#THE MOTH BUTTONS ARE EVERYTHING

[fierceyetflawed]

DAVID TENNANT??????

DAVID TENNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*sighs* david tennant–

[henriiiii-1001old]

help i think im giving puppet too much spider symbolism /pos (aka i have two theme songs for him that both center around spiders. and it works)

EDIT: the two songs are "キラースパイダー" by ピノキオピー and "Spider on the Wall" by GHOST (specifically the remaster w/ yuma it's so fucking good) btw. yes i need to spread more vocaloid propaganda around here /hj

[jjunieworld]

LATHER ˒˒ 최수빈

to help raise money for charity you and your friends make your way over to the rich neighborhood to handwash cars in your best skimpy bathing suits and clothing.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi soobin x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 soyeon from gidle, chaewon from le sserafim, and karina from aespa

genre﹙📄﹚⸝⸝⸝ smut, rich playboy!soobin (like very rich), a lot of sexual innuendos, blonde!soobin

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ unprotected sex + pull-out method (be safe!!), kinda bratty!reader, mean dom!soobin, degradation kink, name calling (slut, whore, good girl), dacryphilia, blowjob, face fucking, cum swallowing, slight overstimulation (f. rec)

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ remember everyone, every body is a bikini body can i get an amen?!!?! :D think of this as the start of my hot girl summer writing era lmaoo（ゝ。∂）this was really pushing my wc of drabbles… lol sorry, what can i say! i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 2.5k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

you huffed loudly as you tried to pull down the smallest shorts you’ve ever worn. when they didn’t budge, you slumped into the chair at the stand you and your friends were currently setting up. at least you weren’t that hot with your bikini top and jean shorts that barely covered your ass in the summer sun. for charity, you thought, it’s all for charity.

“alright, i think everything is good,” soyeon said, as her eyes scanned the stand. you, soyeon, chaewon, and karina were on the sidewalk in some rich neighborhood to handwash cars for this charity program you’re all volunteering for.

karina got up from the grass where she was filling water balloons and placing them in a bucket, “water balloons are done! are we ready to get started?” there was a piece of paper on the bucket that read ‘$20 TO GET THESE GIRLS SOAKED!’ on it. before soyeon could reply, chaewon walked up to you three.

“i already got a couple offers—they’re paying big money to see us drenched and washing their cars,” chaewon said as she sat on the plastic chair next to you. soyeon scoffed a little and rolled her eyes as she looked around to the various large and elaborate houses. there were already some men waiting on their porches or flat out in their yards with a chair and a beer.

one man in particular had his eyes on you this whole time. he was one of the ones sitting in his yard—sunglasses low on his nose bridge as he sipped from whatever beer he had. his blonde hair and white button up shirt made him stand out in contrast to the green grass behind him. you gave him a small and sweet smile while trying to make it seem like you didn’t notice his persistent staring. a smirk grew on his face and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. men are so easy, you thought.

the whole idea to even do this car washing service came from soyeon, surprisingly. in her own words, “let’s take advantage of shitty rich men for charity money!” it wasn’t a bad idea—you even suggested that you continue the car washing service in other neighborhoods too.

soyeon grabbed the megaphone from the table and said into it, “all right, gentlemen! who’s ready to get wet?! starting prices are on the sign above me and remember, it costs extra if you want something special! let’s raise some money for charity!” the rest of you all started whooping and cheering as all the men came up to you four like moths to a flame.

you were in the process of taking a lot of twenty dollar bills and passing out water balloons whenever the man from the yard who had been eying you finally started to approach. you had to tear your eyes away from him when a water balloon hit your chest, soaking your bikini top in the process. turning to the culprit with a shocked screech, chaewon smiled at you.

chaewon was completely drenched and sudsy from the car her and soyeon just washed. she held an open water bottle in her hand and you knew exactly what she was about to do with it. “chaewon!” you laughed as you looked at the water dripping off of you. you peeled some of the green balloon off that stuck to you.

“the guy who’s been eyefucking you is coming over, be ready,” she said lowly as she poured the water over your shoulders. karina smirked at you as she took over handling the water balloons. chaewon walked back to the table and you turned to greet the man.

his eyes trailed up and down your—now soaked—body, especially the red bikini top that covered your boobs. he took a water balloon from karina, pressing the twenty dollars into her open hand, and made his way to you. “need any more help getting wet?” he asked you with a sly grin.

now that he was up close, he was really attractive. he also didn’t look that much older than you, which surprised you slightly. you gave him an innocent smile, he was probably some billionaire’s son. “for charity? of course i am, if you’re offering!” you exclaimed as you held out your arms and prepped yourself to be hit with the water balloon.

instead of throwing the balloon he latched his finger underneath the strap of your bikini top. “what if i want a special offer?” he leaned into you and said lowly near the shell of your ear. your faces were inches away from each other as he looked you in your eyes and awaited your answer. the strap of your bikini top snapped back down onto your shoulder as he let go of it.

you could feel heat spread across your body, especially towards the pit of your belly. now, you weren’t really one for a casual—or not so casual—hookup with a stranger, but you were willing to make an exception for a good cause. besides, he was just so alluring. if you weren’t already so wet, you’d bet your panties would be soaked right now.

you looked at him through hooded lids and said lowly, “you’re gonna have to make a generous donation to charity if you want to fuck me, stranger.” his smirk turned into a slick smile.

“name your price and i’ll double it,” he replied, “and it’s soobin.” you licked your lips in thought and his eyes followed the motion. how much could you squeeze from him before he retracted his offer? just how badly did he want to fuck you? you debated for a moment on the price.

“one million dollars!” you settled on, raising a brow at soobin as you lifted your chin. soobin broke out into a playful laugh and you watched his reaction. he began nodding, like it meant nothing to him.

“two million it is!” he replied and the two of you made your way over to the table where the credit card reader was. soyeon’s eyes nearly fell out as she looked at the amount soobin transferred, and yours almost did too when you leaned over to look at the screen. instead of transferring over two million dollars, he transferred over four million.

soobin turned to you and smiled, “for the pretty girl in front of me.” you thanked him with wide eyes. you turned to soyeon and she mirrored your expression as she mouthed, “four million?!”

you turned back to soobin, “i hope you don’t mind waiting for a few moments. i have to wash this car quickly.” soobin shook his head and crossed his arms. “take all the time you need,” he replied.

smiling, you told him you’d be right back. as you were walking away, you heard soyeon cheekily say, “you can set up a chair and watch her if you so desire.” you helped karina grab the soap and brushes and the two of you made your way over to one of the cars waiting to be washed. when the two of you finished, you were completely drenched from head to toe and lathered in soap.

soobin had taken up soyeon’s offer and watched you the entire time. he came up to you with a towel in his hand that he outstretched towards you. you thanked him and dried yourself off as best as you could and tried to get most of the soap off. soobin trailed the tips of his fingers along your jaw, “ready?”

his fingers lifted up your chin so that you looked at him. suddenly flustered as the reality of what you were about to do hit you, all you could manage to do was nod in reply. soobin smiled and took your hand as he led you back to his house. you looked over your shoulder at karina, who was now standing with chaewon as the two of them made kissy faces at you and laughed at how your cheeks heated further from it.

the inside of his house was just as nice as the outside, but you barely got to look around before lips were pressing kisses to your neck. soobin wasted no time with you as he backed you up towards the living room and pushed you down onto the couch. his eyes were dark and full of lust and it made him look like a completely different person than the one you knew just a few seconds ago.

“take your clothes off,” he demanded as he unbuttoned his shorts. he pulled them down, revealing his bulging erection, as you crossed your legs and leaned forward slightly. “why don’t you take them off for me?” you challenged.

the corner of soobin’s mouth lifted as he took a step towards you. his tall figure hovered over yours as he hooked his fingers under your bikini straps and pulled them down. goosebumps raised along your skin where he touched and a shiver ran up your spin when he started to untie your bikini top at your back. once it was untied, he tossed it to the side onto the couch.

you shivered slightly as a cool chill swept over your now exposed breasts, making your nipples perk up. soobin rubbed his thumbs over them as he grabbed your breasts. “so beautiful…” he muttered to himself. his fingers trailed down your stomach and stopped just above the hem of your jean shorts. he looked up at you briefly, darkly, and you hooked your thumbs onto the fabric and pulled it down along with your panties until you were now completely naked under him.

soobin’s eyes raised to connect with yours, “now, are you gonna suck my cock or do i have pay more money, you fucking whore?” you reached for the band of his boxers but he slapped your hands away.

soobin swiped his thumb across your lips, “open.” you did as you were told, mouth open wide with your tongue hanging out as you waited.

“good girl,” soobin smiled. he pulled down his boxers, hard cock slapping against his stomach. you faltered, closing your mouth as you saw just how big he was. soobin pumped himself a couple times before looking at you with a raised brow.

you shook your head a little, ready to speak about how you definitely weren’t fitting him in your mouth before soobin roughly grabbed your chin. “didn’t i say open?” he asked you before pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips. you whimpered into the brief kiss before he pulled away and brought your lips to the tip of his cock.

your mouth opened wider willingly for soobin as you began to swallow him inch by inch. tears pricked in your eyes and you looked up at him when you were about halfway down his cock. soobin’s head was thrown back as small whines left his lips. his hands were entangled in your wet hair, aiding you.

when you stopped, already feeling him at the back of your throat, he looked down at you and moved your head down further. “you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” soobin asked you and you nodded weakly, tears streaming down your cheeks. “so fucking take it,” he added.

soobin began thrusting into your throat, grunting in pleasure as you moved up and down him. soon, his mouth hung open as warm cum spilled down your throat with his release. soobin pulled you off him, thumb catching his cum that spilled out and pushing it back into your mouth. “swallow,” he demanded, “all of it.” your brows furrowed at the salty taste and you swallowed thickly, whimpering at the pain of your bruised throat.

“such a slut…” he trailed when you opened your mouth to show how you swallowed all of his cum. your hips rolled against the couch, needing any bit of friction you can get. “soobin, please…” you whined hoarsely. you needed to feel him inside you. you need to feel how much he stretched out your aching pussy.

“turn around. bend over the top of the couch,” soobin told you. you turned and got up onto the couch, spreading your legs and bending so your ass was in the air for him. his hand smoothed over the curves of your body as he spread you apart.

“already so wet and i haven’t even touched you… you want me to stick my cock inside you, huh, you slut? fill you up?” soobin asked you as he mockingly rubbed his tip against your wet entrance. you bit your bottom lip and nodded, hips pushing back onto him as you stared at him desperately.

“please,” you whined again, “want you to fill me up…” soobin roughly pushed into you and you let out a loud gasp from the suddenness. he pounded into you rigorously, big hands gripping onto your hips as he pulled you towards him to match his pace.

you cried out as your thighs began to tremble. “s-soobin… gonna cum!” you whimpered, biting down hard to try and silence your moans but to no avail.

“yeah? you like that?” soobin hissed between moans as he fucked into you harder, “you like me fucking you like this, whore? you wanna cum around my cock like a good girl?” you nodded desperately and buried your face into your arms as you cried out again from his tip hitting your cervix. the rope in you snapped and your warm cum leaked down soobin’s cock as he continued fucking you, leaving a creamy white ring around his base.

wet sounds filled his living room as you gripped onto the cushion of his couch, “t-too much!” tears wet your cheeks as you looked back at him with furrowed brows.

soobin laughed humorlessly, but it was staggered. he breathed heavily as he pulled you up from the couch, “take it like the slut that you are.” you felt him twitch and he quickly pulled out of you. whining at the sudden loss, soobin flipped you around and cursed lowly before he began pumping his cum covered cock rapidly over your boobs.

his cum shot out onto them, painting them a pretty white as soobin whimpered. he took your chin again and brought his lips to yours roughly as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer as the kiss deepened.

once both of your lungs were on fire, soobin pulled away a little and you could feel the smile on his lips. he pressed another quick kiss to your lips, “i bet your charity will be very pleased with my donation.”

soobin pulled away fully and you shied away from his stare with heated cheeks. the two of you got cleaned up and made your way back out to your charity event. it was dusk now and it seemed like the girls were just about to start wrapping everything up. “the prodigal daughter returns!” soyeon exclaimed, causing the others to laugh.

you hid your face in your hands as you helped them clean up. the four of you ended up raising almost seven million dollars for your charity that day, and your friends made sure to thank “mr. four million.”

hehe wanna read more? click -> here

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @my313 @naomiarai @lunathewritingcat @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @yeonjunsfox @jeonghaniehaee

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ]

[annebaby]

SAFE PLACE

hello everyone! i am back :) i have recently fell down the kate martin hole ( if you couldnt tell already) and decided to write. i have been working super hard in clinics and classes since you last heard from me, so i hope this isn't too rusty! love you guys!

warning: fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), making out, nipple play

i think that's it? let me know!

my divider is from here!

as i sat in my car with tears rolling down my face, i didn’t know who to call. the rain was pouring, a perfect parallel to the emotions flowing through my body. my vision blurred and my tears welled just thinking about it.

i had just been on a date. needless to say, it did not go well. i had been continuously let down by every man i deemed well enough for my attention. i guess i was just bad at picking ‘em out. 

it always ended the same way.

“wanna come to my place?”

“dtf?” 

“ohhh cmon. don’t be a prude.”

i couldn’t even gather my thoughts about the night as i scrolled through my contacts list. i was searching for somebody - anybody- that could provide me with any sort of comfort. however, i knew there was only one person who could make me feel better. 

kate martin. 

as much as i hated to say it, the girl had a comforting aura around her. something about her just drew me in every single time. imagine a bee to a flower or a moth to a flame - that was kate and me. 

our past was patchy, the ups and downs of our so-called “friendship” had blurred the lines for boundaries too easily. whether we’d end up making out, staying over, or doing much worse, each time would end with one of us being heartbroken. 

but i didn’t care right now. 

i needed her scent and her eyes. i needed her hands and i needed her mouth. 

i needed kate. 

my fingertips scrolled relentlessly to the bottom of my text messages, finding the abandoned chat from a month or two ago. 

tears splattered on my phone as i pressed the call button and brought it to my ear. 

it rang once. 

it rang twice. 

it rang three times.

“hello?” kate answers. 

“hey. kate im so sorry for calling you but i-,“ i stopped as tears continued to flow down my face. 

“you know my address. just come on over. it’s just me here.”

god kate, i could kiss you. 

“thank you,” i whispered. 

i hung up the phone and placed my forehead on the steering wheel. thoughts of another night with kate kept creeping into my mind. the good ones and the bad ones. 

nonetheless, i put my car and drive and headed her way. 

every time i thought the tears were done, another pool of them welled in my eyes. every time i thought about my past few dates, my heart felt a pang of sadness. 

i tried to push the tears and thoughts away as i reach kate’s apartment door, but my pathetically light knocking reminded me of how sad i really was. 

i stood in front of her door for a few seconds, trying to keep it together until i was in the comfort of her home. 

i heard the lock clicking and the door opened. kate stood there, worry filling her eyes and her face full of pity. 

i looked up at her, letting the tears fall down my cheeks as she pulled me into her apartment and engulfed me in a hug. her arms squeezed around my waist as mine wrapped around the back of her neck. i cried into her, tears staining her iowa t shirt. 

“im so sorry for calling you,” i sobbed, backing out of her embrace. i wiped my eyes with my hands, trying any attempt to get rid of the nonstop tears. 

“i know we said we’d never do this again. i’m so sorry i just didn’t know who else to call-“ i was cut short as kate held my face and gently kissed me. 

i placed my hands on her waist, my body savoring everything about her. the kiss was soft and sweet, full of love. there was no hunger or sinister desire about it - just pure comfort and affection. 

my eyes fluttered open as she moved back, her thumb wiping a falling tear off my cheek. 

she gently smiled and looked at me with her bright blue eyes. 

“you and i both know that we need each other more than we let on,” she said, sighing. 

i leaned into her hand, my heart finally feeling at ease. she stroked my face with her thumb before pulling me into another hug and kissing me lovingly on my head. 

she led me over to her couch with her hand on the small of my back. 

“before i ask you to be my girlfriend, tell me all about the horrible date you went on.”

i paused, stopping in my tracks. kate turned me to face her, her hands moving to my hips. she smiled at me before speaking again. 

“i know things have been rough between us ; on both ends.” 

her hands move to cup my face as she brings me closer. 

“but i cant seem to get you off my mind. ever.”

now, i seemed to notice how good she looked. her hair was down, her eyes wide as she stared into my own. 

i smiled up at her as tears kept falling from my eyes. she leaned in slowly and kissed me. the kiss was sweet. it was filled with love and care and tenderness, everything she felt in her heart. 

all for me. 

i kissed her back slowly, feeling the despair and sadness in my heart melt away. she was so warm, so comforting. her fingers slid into the back of my jean pockets as she breathed in through her nose. 

my hands hesitantly wrapped around her neck, tangling in the roots of her hair. 

then suddenly, she was everywhere. gripping my ass, attacking my mouth with her tongue and pulling my body impossibly closer to her. 

i broke the kiss quickly, looking at her wide-eyed. was this really something that we should be doing? 

i pushed the thought out of my head hurriedly, the impulsiveness of her actions sending heat straight between my legs. then, she leaned down and began to kiss me again. she gently put her hands on my waist and backed me into her room.

she flipped me around and pressed me against the door-shutting it. her hands were traveling everywhere fast. she was on my waist, my breasts, my ass, etc. you name it and she was there. 

i gasped out quietly as she began to leave sloppy kisses on my neck. i leaned my neck back, allowing her more access. she grinned against my skin.

“no man,-” she panted.

“will ever,-” she said, her fingers tugging on the bottom seam of my shirt. she leans in to continue kissing me.

she pulls my shirt off smoothly, her fingers digging into the exposed skin on my waist,

“make you-“ she kisses me again.

“feel like-“

her hands reach around to the clasps of my bra, her mouth moving to my neck. 

she takes my bra off effortlessly, the material falling to her floor along with my shirt.

‘-this.” 

her eyes travel down to my breasts. 

i reach for her shirt seam as well pulling it over her head, i notice her sports bra and her toned abdomen. my fingertips trace up the sides of her body and swear i felt my mouth watering. 

as if something snapped in me, i push kate’s shoulders until her legs hit her bed and she sits down. i crawl on top of her, sitting in her lap. 

“you’re so pretty, kate,” i whisper.

she smiles and brings her hand to the back of my head, pulling my lips to hers. 

i open my mouth invitedly, her tongue slipping in and fighting for dominance with my own. the fight for control caused kate to moan in my mouth. her hips buck up against mine, the friction causing me to tug on her hair.

“you like that?” she whispers against my lips. our noses touch and i open my eyes, looking straight at her. i nod my head frantically, encouraging her to keep going. her hands grip my hips, holding me down against her thigh. she starts to move my body back and forth, grinding my body against her thigh.

the friction is enough to make me throw my head back, and i feel her grip me tighter. 

“god you’re so perfect,” she whispers. then, she stands up and switches us so she’s on top of me. 

she’s quickly unbuttoning my jeans, wasting no time on teasing. 

“damn, kate. are you excited or what?” i ask, laughing. 

she looks up at me, staring me in my eyes. 

“i haven’t tasted you in months.”

i don’t respond, instead i lift my hips up so she can pull down my jeans and underwear. im completely naked under her, something she’s admitted she likes before.

she crawls up my body, my legs parting and wrapping around her as she leans down to kiss my breasts. she kitten licks one of my nipples, her other hand harshly groping the other breast. my back arches due to the pleasure, a pornographic moan escaping my lips. 

i feel her teeth slightly graze my nipple again before she switches sides. i can practically feel myself pooling between my legs. 

she slowly licks down my torso, stopping to give me kisses on my inner thighs. i can tell she’s leaving hickeys, another thing she likes to do. 

“kate stop it,” i plead. i needed her now. 

my hips bucked upwards, her hands aggressively holding me down as she placed a singular kiss on my pubic bone, then another on the spot where i needed her most. 

i look down at her, her blue eyes already staring into mine. her tongue darted out, hardly grazing me.

i snap my head back, my thighs subconsciously trapping her head. 

then, she moves one of her hands from around my thighs, and she slips a finger into me. 

before i can even make a sound, she begins to eat me out and fuck me with her finger at the same time, adding a second. 

i moaned her name, my face scrunching up with pleasure. 

“kate ohmygod,” i breathed.

she moved her head from side to side, my pleasure increasing tenfold - if that was even possible. 

she took my ankles and set them both on her shoulders, pulling me closer against her in the process. i knew she could tell i was close. she started moving faster and curling her fingers inside of me.

“kate please,” i begged. i didn’t even know what i was asking for. she felt so good. 

i felt her hum against me, completely sending me over the edge. pleasure ripped through me as my stomach twitched as i came down from my high. her hands moved to my hips again, holding me down as she cleaned me up with her mouth. 

i stayed laying flat on her bed as she crawled on top of me. she took her fingers and placed them in my mouth. i sucked on them, tasting myself. 

she smiled wide and licked the mess off her lips.

“you wanna be my girlfriend?"

[santaasi]

moth to a flame

pairing: james potter x black!reader

summary: what could be more forbidden than loving your brother's best friend?

warnings: mdni, 18+, smut with plot (fingering), reader is sirius’s twin sister, james smokes, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i'm alive! and now i have bachelor degree! it was a hard few month but i survived and decided to try smth new. i've never posted smut before… sooo idk if it good or not but bc it was in my drafts for a long time now, and i wanted to post smth for u guys… now it's here. not my best work i think but nevertheless i hope you will like it. have a good time reading <з

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" 

The Gryffindor dorm was a whirlwind of noise and energy, laughter bouncing off the walls. You lay sprawled on your bed, desperately trying to wriggle free from his bear-like grip. You never understood where James got so much power from. He was an animagus deer, not a bear, damn you. You twisted and kicked in every direction, but his nimble fingers danced over your bare skin, tickling mercilessly and making you shriek with laughter. Time seemed to blur as your best friend’s relentless tickling pulled you away from your herbology test preparations. Your stomach muscles ached from laughing, and your cheeks felt sore from the constant smile etched on your face.

“Jamie, please stop. I'm going to die now," you mumbled without stopping laughing. “Sirius will come soon and there'll be hell to pay” 

After these words, James grinned, loosened his grip, and rolled onto the other half of the bed. His warm brown eyes followed your every move, a gentle intensity in his gaze. He left a light kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed, and you breathed deeply, trying to steady your erratic breaths. You watched as James crossed the room in a few swift strides, heading to the desk and opening the window. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you felt the cool wind slide through the chiffon curtains, a refreshing contrast to your heated skin.

James's fingers, which had been caressing your skin moments ago, moved with deliberate slowness as he took a cigarette from the pack. He clamped it between his teeth, the flame from his lighter casting a brief, warm glow as he lit it. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His disheveled curls and rumpled white shirt, with its first few buttons teasingly undone, drew your gaze to his collarbones. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the veins on his forearms, each one accentuated in the dim light. That familiar, mischievous grin played on his lips, making you believe that James Potter did it all on purpose.

That grin shone on his face as if he had already won the Quidditch Cup against Slytherin. It made your breathing falter again, sending a whole crazy swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. You loved that James Potter grin, the playful twinkle in his eyes, and the way he slightly raised his head to exhale cigarette smoke out the window, where the sun was setting. Yeah, you liked everything about James Potter to the point of a stomach ache and an incredibly fast heartbeat in your chest. 

You were the biggest fan of your brother's best friend. Sometimes, it seemed you literally couldn't live without James—without his jokes, his light touches, his gentle whispers in your ear, and those sparkling eyes like two precious stones. However, James probably didn't even know it, thinking of you only as his best friend's little sister.

“Hey you, don't touch my stuff!” you were indignant, watching him run his fingers over the photo that stood on your desk. You saw James roll his eyes, not paying any attention to your words, and take the frame in both hands, studying it carefully.

“It seems you fit in well with our shabby group,” the guy said quietly and looked around. "Everyone likes you, even Mr. Grumpy Peter”

In his hands was a white frame, its edges adorned with delicate gold filigree, cradling a photo captured just a few weeks earlier. In the picture, you and the Marauders are all there, faces lit with joy—Lily’s laughter bright, Marlene’s mischievous grin, and Dorcas’s warm smile. The scene is set in the cozy common room, where you had all gathered around, lost in the delight of silly Muggle games Lily had introduced. The simple pleasure of those games, so different from the usual weight of family troubles, offered a rare warmth and comfort. You hold this photo close, a cherished relic of laughter and friendship, its presence a bittersweet reminder of how much you missed Sirius when he left you and the rest of the family behind. 

You were profoundly grateful to the entire gang for the chance to be reunited with your twin brother. It was a rare gift to once again be enveloped in his care and protection, to bask in his unwavering love. Your bond with Sirius had always been a delicate thread, frayed by circumstance. The divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor had severed your Hogwarts communication, yet at home, he remained your cherished brother. Though he could be infuriating at times, he was always a steadfast presence, an integral part of your very being.

But the rift deepened when his conflicts with your parents escalated, leaving you unwillingly caught in the crossfire. Sirius's bitterness led him to view you and Regulus as traitors, and then, when he departed, the bond between you was irrevocably severed. It felt as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with him, leaving life in the cold, shadowy manor utterly unbearable.

Then Lily’s intervention restored a semblance of normality. Sirius’s familiar gesture—ruffling your hair in the hallway, calling you "pearl," and flashing that familiar, mischievous smile—was a balm to your wounded heart. Even though a part of you grappled with guilt over maintaining your connection with Sirius while feeling disloyal to Regulus, you couldn't bear to be without your twin. And now, life seemed also incomplete without his cheeky Quidditch captain friend, James Potter, who had become an unexpected but welcome fixture in your world.

“What ‘bout you?” 

The words came out of your mouth before you could think them through. You nervously bit your lower lip, your gaze fixated on James as he methodically extinguished his cigarette, leaving the window ajar. His movements were slow and deliberate as he slid his hands into his trouser pockets and made his way towards the bed. Each step seemed to draw him closer to you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he settled next to your feet.

You shifted uneasily, trying to maintain some distance, but James’s presence was undeniable. Your heart raced with every inch he came nearer. When he finally reached out, his hand gently caressed your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The faint, lingering scent of smoke began to weave its way into your senses, adding to the tension that filled the room.

“What ‘bout me, lovely?” He said softly.

His hot breath scorched your neck as James tilted his head slightly to the side. Your eyelashes fluttered and a soft sigh escaped your lips. You could feel the blush rising up your neck and stopping on your cheeks. You've never considered yourself the one who could melt at the sight of a guy… You have always been sure that you are a tough nut to crack and the path to your heart is not easy and thorny. But as soon as James Potter came into your life, sat so close to you and looked at you with his big chocolate eyes, you became a puddle in his hands and there was nothing you could do about it.

It was unbearable to have feelings for James Potter, the school’s shining star, who was constantly surrounded by a throng of admirers vying for his attention. But the situation was even more agonizing knowing that James was your brother's closest friend, the one who had rescued him from the chaos of your family, the brother Sirius had chosen as family.

Despite the unbreakable bond you shared with Sirius, and the way you two were as inseparable as a single machine, you never broached this subject with him. Why? Because you had seen and heard countless stories from friends and acquaintances whose relationships with their siblings’ best friends ended in resentment and discord. You understood the underlying issue all too well: no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire of a breakup between a family member and a closest friend.

For Sirius, the situation would be even more complex. You couldn’t imagine being forced to choose between your twin brother—who was half of you—and your closest friend. It was a choice you knew you could never make, and that realization only deepened the anguish of your feelings for James.

That’s why you remained silent, burying your feelings deep within yourself. Whenever you spent time together, you made a conscious effort to keep your distance from James, but it never seemed to work. With every encounter, your feelings for the Quidditch captain grew stronger, more consuming. Lately, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep everything bottled up. Listening to stories about his snogs was tormenting. Watching him flirt and interact with others was a growing source of anguish. You felt yourself unraveling under the weight of it all.

You licked your dry lips, drawing in a shaky breath, and cast your eyes downward before murmuring, barely audible.

"I-uh... do you like me?"

Your voice trembled, faltering until, by the end, your words dissolved into nothing more than a breathy whisper, a stream of air that barely formed a coherent sentence. And you would have died of shame on the spot if it hadn't been for James's thumb stroking your hot cheek soothingly. His gaze slid over your face, carefully, as if under a microscope, studying every detail that seemed to have already learned everything during these couple of months of your close communication. You were so beautiful with those confused eyes, and halting breathing, and that scar showing above your eyebrow when you frowned. You were divine. 

James, having endured relentless teasing from his friends about his feelings for Lily, believed he was as transparent as an open book. He thought that all his innocent touches, lingering glances, and heartfelt compliments had not gone unnoticed by you, and that you were fully aware of how he felt. He was almost certain of it. But now, as he gazed into your wide, bewildered eyes—eyes that looked at him with a mix of adoration and anxiety—he realized he might not have been as obvious as he’d thought.

You nervously bit your lip and fidgeted with the rings on your fingers, and James couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. His gaze briefly lingered on your lips, and he was consumed by a longing to taste them. When he looked back up, he stared straight into the depths of your soul, searching for the truth that lay hidden within.

“I thought you knew the answer.… Everyone knows…”

You blinked a few times, nervously swallowing the lump that was beginning to tighten in your throat. James Potter was far too close, encroaching on your personal space in a way that made your heart race and your breath catch. You slowly raised your eyes, trying to come up with some clever answer or make a joke of everything, just not to feel this shame and misunderstanding, just to stop this war in your head. But before you could make a sound, you were on your back again. A surprised sigh escaped your lips when you saw James's smiling face looming over you. His palm rested on your waist, gently squeezing the soft flesh exposed under your shirt. 

"Do you want to know the answer, angel?" James asked slowly, bending forward slightly and stretching out each word. His voice was soft and sweet like honey, making goosebumps cover your body. 

"Only if I... like it," you whispered softly to him in response, blinking your eyes in surprise, feeling your eyelashes tickle your cheeks. 

You felt the ghostly brush of his lips against your temple, then your cheekbone, your cheek, and finally the corner of your lips. James Potter's teasing touch was driving you wild. Your hands instinctively clenched the fabric of his shirt in tight fists as you closed your eyes, a soft whimper escaping your lips. His kiss lingered on your chin before trailing down to your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“James...” you exhaled, parting your lips as a shiver of impatience rippled through your body. Your fists tightened on his shirt, pulling him closer, desperately craving the contact you longed for. James's laugh came out in a low, throaty sound, and you pouted, frustrated by his playful teasing. But before you could voice your discontent, his lips met yours, pulling you into a tender, sweet kiss that made all your frustrations melt away.

Kissing James Potter was as enchanting as you’d imagined, if not more so. His lips, softened by your cherry balm, carried a lingering taste of cherries, mingling with hints of cigarettes, fresh herbs, and even chocolate—the same chocolates you’d savored just moments before, before James had playfully wrested the last one from you. Where had it gone now?

Your hands gently released his shirt, moving up to his shoulders, fingers threading through his tousled curls and drawing him nearer. You felt a delightful shiver on your lips as James exhaled a satisfied sigh and nibbled on your lower lip. You giggled softly, your fingers tangling further in his hair, pulling him even closer, savoring every second of the sweet, intoxicating kiss. James squeezed your waist a little tighter before reaching under your shirt. His fingers closed around your chest and you moaned softly into his lips, arching your back to meet him.

James slipped his knee between your legs, and you gently moved your hips, feeling the already wet fabric of your panties slide over the stiff material of his pants. James's lips moved lower, covering your neck with kisses, giving you time to catch your breath.

“Jamie... James... don't,” you whispered breathlessly with pleasure. His lips touched your sweet spot behind your ear and you moaned softly. James Potter will be the end of you. 

“Yeah,” James said confidently in the area of your collarbone, quickly unbuttoning the buttons of your white dress shirt. James looked up at you for a second and you frowned slightly, not understanding what he was talking about. “Yes,” he repeated, looking you straight in the eye. “Yes, I like you, angel. Ever since you blew up our amortentia at potions,” you felt the vibration of his laughter on your neck when he left another kiss. 

“But... but that was in the third year...” you whispered, not believing him. James liked Lily at that time, and probably still does. Sirius and Peter often joke that…

“Hmm...” James mumbled in agreement, moving lower, leaving light kisses on both of your breasts. "I couldn't confess ‘cause Sirius is my friend... you're his lil’ sister... and I was a fuckin’ thirteen-year-old loser who was afraid to even look in your direction." 

You laughed softly, sliding your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching the skin of his head. James's hot breath burned your skin as his lips moved lower and lower down your body. Every new kiss is a new place. The cleavage. The ribs. Belly. Bellybutton. 

"And then Lily brought you to us... and I couldn't just watch anymore... when you were so close... so beautiful... gentle... sweet..." James's lips touched the bottom of your stomach, and his fingers gently slipped under the elastic band of your skirt. But before he could pull it down your trembling legs, you grabbed his face with both hands, lifting it higher, connecting your lips. James Potter could resist anything, but not you. He could never resist you. 

Kissing James Potter was like soaring through the sky, a rush of air that caressed your skin with a tantalizing chill. It was like the first warm summer rain, gently gliding through your hair, or the sun's rays breaking through after a long, cold winter, warming the earth with their tender touch. His kisses were like the living water from fairy tales—revitalizing and magical, making you breathe deeply and revel in the pure joy of the moment.

“As much as I would like to continue, but James...” you kissed his lips again, looking into his frowning eyes. Your hands gently stroked his cheeks, feeling a slight tingle from his growing stubble. "Sirius is coming soon and I... I don't want him to find us in such a-... such a compromising position." You blushed fiercely, your cheeks turning as red as a ripe tomato, and James’s laughter rang out once more. He leaned in to kiss you savoringly on the cheek, his touch both tender and playful.

His hand was gently stroking your stomach, and his knee was still moving slowly between your legs. You exhaled noisily, throwing your head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. Hips involuntarily moved to meet him and you squeezed his biceps with your hand. You whimpered when the pleasure became almost unbearable, when you wanted to feel something more.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much, angel,” James whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck. You felt his hand slip through the elastic of your skirt, barely touching your pelvis. “Who am I to deprive you of this pleasure, pretty girl?”

You squeezed your eyes shut when James's fingers slid into your panties, gently tracing between your folds, smearing your arousal. 

“Merlin... Jamie,” you muttered in a trembling voice, moving your hips towards his hands. You heard James chuckle, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbone. You were one hundred percent sure that his marks would remain in these places. And you would have objected if it weren't for the feelings that made you forget about everything. You moaned when his finger slipped inside your dripping hole. Your eyes opened and you met his brown ones, James left a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, look at me, angel,” James said hoarsely. “I want to see how good I make you feel” 

You meowed and nodded, unable to say anything to him. His finger slowly slid inside your gummy walls, hitting that very spot, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. But you kept looking at him. 

"Jamie... more," you said faintly, and he laughed, adding another finger, twitching an eyebrow, asking, "Is that better?" 

You nodded your head, feeling a surge of euphoria. You've never felt anything like this before. Your fingers have never been so skillful and long to reach the cherished place that they make your whole gut cry with desire. James gradually increased the pace, making you moan softly, clinging to his shirt. You looked into his eyes, feeling them devour and memorize every emotion that slipped across your face. Enjoying your pleasure. His thumb slid over your clit in soft circular movements, and your body arched towards him with pleasure. You could feel the knot of pleasure tightening within you, on the verge of breaking free. Your eyes fluttered rapidly, and your lips parted in silent wonder. You tried to form words, but only soft, breathless moans escaped, betraying the intensity of the sensation.

“I know angel... just let go,” James whispered in your ear, and it snapped the last thread that was holding you back. You closed your eyes, moaning louder than before, feeling like you were coming. James was whispering something in your ear, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm, but you were over the moon with pleasure to attach any importance to it.

And a moment after it you felt empty. Breathing heavily, you turned your closed eyes to the guy who was grinning at you, licking your release off his fingers. You ran your hand tenderly over his cheek, trailing down to his neck, gently guiding him closer. Your body felt almost unresponsive, but your need to kiss him was overwhelming. You wanted to feel him, to lose yourself in the connection. As his lips met yours, you relaxed into the kiss, parting your lips lazily and letting James take the lead, savoring every moment. You could still feel the sweet taste of your juice on his lips and it made your heart flutter faster, giving reality to what was happening. 

Your hand slowly slid from his shoulder lower to his chest, then to his torso and slightly lower, gently touching the buckle of his belt, but before you could even make an attempt to undo it, James grabbed your hands in his and pulled them away, shaking his head. You frowned, not understanding why he doesn't want you to bring him the same pleasure as he gives you. You wanted to please him. You wanted to do it for him. 

“Not today, angel.” He kissed your knuckles, kneeling next to you. You sat up in front of him, your lower lip trembling as his hands began to button your shirt. You sniffed, not understanding what was going on. He wanted it as much as you did, didn't he? 

Seeing your expression, James immediately cupped your cheeks in his hands and shook his head. 

“I want you, beauty. Merlin, lovely... more than anything in this world, I want to take you right here and now.” James laughed hoarsely, shaking his head. “But like you said, I don't want Sirius or anyone else to get in the way, do I?” you were still pouting, blinking your eyes. James kissed you and joined your foreheads, looking into your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you, but later, ‘kay?" 

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching for his lips once more. Having tasted James Potter, you felt an insatiable craving for more. With a playful smile, he pulled you closer, and you shifted to straddle him on the bed. His laughter rang out as he placed his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. Your hands wandered slowly over his chest, savoring the moment.

“So, there will be a next time?” you asked, playfully biting your lip. Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him, cutting off any potential answer.

You didn’t need a reply. In his eyes, you saw the same fiery intensity that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Now, James was the moth flying straight into your blaze. After tonight, there would be no turning back for either of you—both consumed by a fire that would burn without end.

thankx for reading <3

for all my lovelies who are waiting for james fluff i’m currently working on some fluffy stuff, so stay tuned!

and as always, you can share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

[doomedmoth]

Three’s a crowd

Pairing : Poly and bisexual fem!reader | reader x alexandra saint mleux x charles lerclerc

Warnings : use of y/n, polyamory, fluff, very light angst, request, not much more tbh

Synopsis : Request : Could you write a poly fic about Charles, Alexandra and Y/N ? Everyone is celebrating Charles’ brand LEC but since Charles and Alex are the public couple (for Ferrari PR etc), Y/N can’t do anything. She’s starting to feel left out because of it since they’re going out and celebrating without her, they keep leaving her out and forgetting important dates (her birthday or smthg). Happy ending please !

Moth’s prophecy💡: Thank you to the anonymous cryptid for the request, I tweaked it a bit but still kept the main plot, and I hope you and the other poly enjoyers will like it ! Thanks again for the support and great ideas !

“Okay one… two… three… and posted !” You threw yourself in Charles’ arms as he clicked on the button and threw his phone away immediately, catching both you and Alex in a cuddle.

“You did it !” Alexandra pinched at his cheeks and you ruffled his hair, hands trembling with excitement.

Finally his ice-cream brand, Lec, was out, the main announcement posted on Instagram. The end of countless sleepless nights and never ending zoom calls, meetings at the worst time possible, and secrets to keep. Of course, now the promotion would be another handful, but at least the three of you would deal with it together. And you had always been pretty good at supporting your lovers.

You got into a more comfortable position on Charles’ lap, head resting against his, as Alexandra had gotten up and started her, as she called it, “happy dance”, which consisted mostly in jumping in circles screaming until she got dizzy. As you snorted, Alexandra very clearly loosing balance, Charles took your hand in his, softly rubbing it with his fingers.

“Thank you… I know it hasn’t been easy to deal with this on top of the races and everything… You’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” You could not help a smirk from coming up your lips, and thought this was the time to charge again.

“I know how you can repay me…” You straddled him, and as he did his best to appear confident and in charge, his blush betrayed his shyness. Alex had stopped spinning, seemingly much more interested in what was taking place on the couch. “Maybe you could…” You got closer to him, and peppered his neck with kisses until you got to his ear, in which you whispered as seductively as you could. “Maybe you could get me a dog ?”

He immediately rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you away as you laughed at his bright red cheeks. You had dreamt of having your own dog for so long, specifically a longhaired dachshund, and both Alex and Charles had said no multiple times. Charles’ arguments were mainly that he was away too often to properly care for it, and your girlfriend, who called the breed “hairy sausages”, argued she would have to deal with all the responsibilities of it because both yours and Charles’ works took a lot of time. And though she actually found dogs very cute, she did not have an interest big enough for them to manage her schedule around one.

You had pleaded to Lewis to use Roscoe to convince them, managed to go partly remote with your job, and flooded their messages with videos of dogs almost daily. At this point, you were seriously considering getting one in secret just to see how long it would take for them to realize, and then argue it is too late to give it back.

“Sure.” What ? You sat straight up on Charles as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t have heard well. You turned to Alex, who shrugged.

“I can’t deal with seeing you cry over reels anymore, and Mimi’s pretty cute.” She gave you a warm smile. Mimi was your friend’s dog, the one who got you into dachshund in the first place.

“You’re not serious, are you ? You’re just in a good mood. You’re joking.” Charles actually laughed, and you thought your heart wouldn’t be able to handle a prank.

“Promis juré ma princesse. Why not, you want one, you can take care of it, who am I to deny you ? Let’s get you a dog.”

No matter how well isolated was your apartment, you thought you would be lucky if no neighbors came to complain tomorrow. There was a lot to celebrate for one night.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really need you to give Leo back, we’re going to take pictures…” Searching desperately for support in Alex’s eyes, you felt sick when you saw her staring at the ground. You were so shaken you let the event coordinator take the puppy from your arms and give him to Alexandra, who sheepishly turned her back to you and walked towards the press wall.

Charles himself was nowhere and everywhere at once, it was no use trying to get him to advocate for you. Too stressed by the beginning of the racing season combined with the launching events for Lec, he had mindlessly agreed to most of his agent’s suggestions, including playing what the Ferrari PR team had called “happy family”. Following the announcement of Carlos’ replacement, they needed good news to balance, and thought emphasizing Charles’ couple and furry kid would pull at a few heartstrings. But in their good Italian traditional beliefs, there was no place for a third, and since you had always been more busy, and therefore more discreet, than Alexandra, the cut had been made. They were to be the hit couple for a while, in a vain but admittedly successful attempt at calming the fans.

You had had little to no say, Charles having always been your voice in those kinds of businesses, and Alexandra being media trained to perfection. You thought back on your promises, on your dedication to be supportive of them, and decided the best thing to do would be to go get some air. It wasn’t as if you would be missed anyway.

As you stepped on one of the secluded balconies, the cold breeze of the night came to slap your face, and without anyone’s arms or jacket to comfort you, you suddenly felt very lonely. The evening had dragged on enough, you just wanted to go home. Debating between taking a cab or waiting for your lovers, you took out your phone, only to be flooded by notifications from your socials. You barely used them, so had no idea why they would be so active all of a sudden.

Both Instagram and Twitter greeted you with the same pictures taken either by fans or paparazzis. You shopping with Carlos’s girlfriend, Leo trotting happily by your side, as well as another few at a restaurant with friends, where Leo was sleeping on your lap while Charles and Alex were somewhere in the background, probably discussing going dancing after. The usual. But this time, all the comments seemed to agree on one thing. The dog wasn’t yours.

“Did they lend her the dog for the day ?”. “Leo’s godmother.” “Is she gonna be the babysitter while they’re gone ?” “Me when my friends get a baby”.

You three had always been private, but not secret. People made their own opinions anyway, and you did not care much about polishing a public persona. You did not use socials, Alex had private accounts, and Charles’ were managed by his PR team. In the end, even though you had dated Alexandra since high school, and Charles for a bit more than a year, the lack of official pictures or announcement, coupled with Ferrari’s new strategy, only served as validation to those who affirmed the real couple were Alexandra and Charles.

You felt sick, cold, and particularly lonely. Cab it would be.

“Babe what are you doing outside like that, you’ll get a cold !” You felt his jacket fall on your shoulders before you even heard him walk up to you. Ears buzzing, eyes watering, you weren’t sure you were able to face him.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend and your dog if you don’t mind.” When you turned to him, you saw right behind one of the girls in charge of the party holding Leo, and your blood started boiling again. Charles was looking at you all confused, and you felt an itch to slap him.

“What ? What are you on about ? How ‘bout you come back inside, I think Leo misses you.” He chuckled, and you thought a full punch would probably be better than a slap.

“I don’t think your dog misses me.” The words felt like poison in your mouth, but you wanted him to get it. To understand how ridiculous this situation was getting. And why wouldn’t the girl put him down, he was clearly uncomfortable in her arms ? Why was no one taking it seriously ?

“Leo’s your dog, Y/N, I don’t get it…”

“Then give him back to me !” You screamed and the puppy yapped back, before jumping from the assistant’s arms, who shrieked and struggled to get him back. Too late, he had found your arms before she managed to pull the leash. “You should probably talk with your team, Charles.” He frowned at the use of his name, which almost always meant you were pissed. “Goodnight.”

As they finished filling their suitcases, you thought back on this evening, and that you probably should have shut your mouth. Following Lec’s launching party, what you hoped would be a wake up call for your lovers turned into something even worse. Charles was indeed called in for a talk with the PR team. And then Alex too. Your turn never came, and the more the days passed, the more it appeared your relationship was being taken over by management and marketing teams.

The following weeks had been a blur of unspoken tensions and meaningless routines. Breakfast alone, walking Leo only in the areas pre-approved to avoid pictures, going to work without him and coming home to new communication materials published with his face on it, work calls for your boyfriend stretching into the night, and your girlfriend going out so often it seemed her side of the bed was getting colder with each passing day. They both seemed to have undergone a sad transformation, their fiery and protective spirits dampened by forced compromises. Something told you they had been pushed to agree to the new directive, and yet you couldn’t help but stay mad at them. You understood Charles. The pressure he was under, the expectations of the whole team, the weight of his responsibilities. But Alexandra, you had known for too long. She had never been one to bow down and blindly agree to unfair decisions. She had loved you, through good and bad. She had promised you, together forever. And now she kept her hands by her side on the street and you wondered when her clothes had stopped smelling like you.

They kissed you goodbye, promised you mountains of gifts and a magnificent restaurant when they returned, but the door had not even closed when you fell crying to your knees. You had moved to the couch and slept there, your puppy watching over you, when your mother knocked on the door the following morning.

“Happy birthday darling !” She opened her arms and you ran in them, grabbing at your siblings behind her to get them in the hug too.

You had hoped to be out of tears by now, having spent the night reading articles speculating on why you were living with Formula 1 hottest couple -were you a distant relative ? A friend of Alex in need of a place to crash ?-, but the warm embrace of family members you hadn’t seen for months was enough to bring you back to the edge.

“Where are my favorite in-laws ?” She was beaming as she settled her belongings on the kitchen counter. “Oh that’s my baby grandson, come here baby !” She took Leo in her arms and you thought you had more time to breathe, but your younger brother tugged at your sleeve.

“Can Charlie take me on the boat ? I learned how to do a backflip at school and he can film me do it from the boat and then the others are gonna be so jealous and” You put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair softly.

“I’m sorry… Charles isn’t there. Alex too.” Your mother furrowed her brows and gave you a puzzled look. “Race weekend, and they were expected at an event they couldn’t cancel.” Your voice, barely above a whisper, was already shaking. You felt your tears ready to spill over, and gritted your teeth. “Last minute decision.”

Your brother only groaned and ran to the balcony to look at the port, already over it, but your mother came to hold your hand, and you exchanged a look of “we’ll talk about it later”.

Unfortunately, by the time you all came back from your evening out, and the kids were in bed, your mother was faced with the situation without leaving you any time to explain.

“Y/N, dear, come here please…” You sat next to her with two glasses of wine, and looked over her shoulder to her phone, where she had some celebrities gossip website open. “Is that the event they couldn’t cancel for your birthday ?” Her tone was cold, and you took at better look at the pictures.

A sunset movie-worthy, one of those that always brought tears to your eyes. A small table with candles and flowers on the beach, cocktails so colorful you could almost taste them from afar. Holding hands, looking at each other like the world had stopped, your lovers were apparently having the time of their life in a romantic restaurant, on your birthday evening. You took out your own phone. No messages.

The panic attack struck you without warning. Your heart had clenched all at once, and despite your mother’s attempt at laying you on your back, your muscles kept you rolled in a ball. You felt as if every breath was tearing apart your lungs, and could feel your heartbeat from your ears to the tip of your fingers. You could vaguely hear her talking to you, but it was as if a wall was standing between you, yet her touch felt very close, too close, as if her usually soft fingers were now burning your arms. Was it the end ? Was it how your great love story ended, alone on a Saturday night, crying so much you were drooling on the couch ? Your body was aching like never before, were you about to pass out ? To simply die ?

In the end you only managed to fall asleep after your mom calmed you down. You thought before closing your eyes that even your pain was disappointing.

You were helping your siblings pack up their bags when they came home, arms filled with packages. The little ones jumped to them, glad to have at least been able to say hello before leaving, but your mother stayed by your side, not even greeting them. She thanked them coldly for the gifts, and pushing the children towards the door, gave you a sympathetic look. She said she would always be there for you. She said you could come home if needed. But when Leo jumped on the couch and laid next to you, you knew no matter how painful it was, your home was here and there. You just needed time. You would figure it out, together. But not tonight. Tonight you just wanted out.

“Happy belated birthday, princesse.” Charles said tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he gestured to the mountain of gifts piled on the table. Alex sat by your side, but you got up before she could hold your hand.

“I don’t want your gifts. I want an apology. Think well about what you’ve done.” You kissed your puppy’s head and left the apartment immediately.

Almost running in the hallways and stairs, you got to his door panting. You knew he was back, they always made the journey together. So when he opened the door, clearly exhausted and surprised to see you, you broke down once again.

“I’m sorry Max… can I come in ?” He immediately closed the door behind you and called for his girlfriend, while his step daughter Penelope came to hug your legs. You collapsed on their sofa, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to find the words to explain the depth of your pain. Kelly and Penelope tried to soothe you with soft voices and hugs, but Max only managed to pace the room, his jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell happened ?” He had always been so sweet to you, so welcoming in this unfamiliar world. You felt bad for seeking comfort in his home after he had just came back. But the gates were opened, and while you cried, you still managed to make out a few words, enough for the couple to piece out the situation.

Penelope stayed close to you, hugging you with all the warmth a child could muster, while Kelly had been forced to stand in front of the door to prevent your friend from committing murder. They were now arguing silently, and you felt your eyes get heavier by the minute, strangely lulled to sleep by their hushed whispers. You had finally put words on what was happening, and the little girl’s cuddles had managed to calm you down to the point of dozing off.

“I think you should take her home.” Kelly murmured, still worried.

Max nodded in agreement, and he carefully scooped you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your apartment. Charles was standing in the doorway, Alex pacing behind him, and both let him pass, faces etched with concern.

“You two stay right there.” Max’s voice was sharp, commanding not to argue. He laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you and stroking your hair until sleep finally claimed you. When he tried to leave the apartment, your two lovers were still standing by the door, begging to be heard.

“Max, please, what’s going on…” Alexandra tried to get close but he immediately took a step back, and pointed his finger at her.

“You had your chance to make things right by staying this weekend. You blew it up. Take your responsibilities.” He then turned to Charles, and almost spat to his face. “And you… I thought family was supposed to always come first. Maybe I was wrong.” His face was distorted with anger, and his knuckles white on the door handle. “You two have to man up for once in your fucking life. Either you tell Ferrari, and everyone who’s putting their noise in your business, to fuck off, or you loose her.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Charles and Alexandra with the consequences of their actions. They knew they had been fooled. Manipulated. Two nights ago, when the pictures of them had been taken, they were having one of the worst conversation possible. One they wanted to share with you as soon as possible, and in person, and not on your birthday. They were now wondering how they could do so without sounding like liars.

Would you trust them ? Believe Charles, when he would tell you the PR team had said you weren’t cut for fame, that the spotlights were obviously making you stressed, that you would be happier away from it all ? Believe Alex, when she would admit that they had threatened her with your boyfriend’s career, as well as your own, reminding her that she had never needed to work, and that if she loved the both of you, she should let professionals handle the situation ? Believe them, when they would say that’s what they talked about at the restaurant, and that their look of love was captured when they thought of you home, and wished you were with them ?

They weren’t sure. The thought that you could decide to end it all, and you would be smart to do so, frightened them. When they finally went to bed, hands shaking and eyes wet, each one cuddling by your side, hoping this night would not be the last, you did not even wake up.

“Still not forgiven ?” Max pushed Charles’ shoulder softly, half teasing him, half genuinely concerned for his friend, even though he hated to admit it. He had moved away from the group of men having a drink in the shared garden of their building, and had been staring at the moon for too long for someone in a good mood.

“I don’t know… She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clearly not. Even when we told her of our meetings, she was like… she agreed with them ?” Charles turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. “Said they knew what they were talking about, that it was for the best. Keeps walking behind us in the street, encourages us to go out just us two, even refuses to hold Leo when there are fans ! Her own dog, Max !” Charles felt the arm of the taller man lay on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the embrace, sighing.

As he was about to turn for a full hug, he heard Carlos whistle from the table, and Daniel signed at them to get back and away from the hedges.

“Paps.” The Aussie simply said when they got back, pointing a finger at the light of a camera through the bushes. “What a waste of money living here if they still manage to get in.” Max groaned and started to pick up the bottles, inciting everyone to go back inside.

“What a pain those fuckers…” He grumbled, clearly annoyed to not be able to enjoy his evening out with friends without the sound of camera shutters ruining everything. “What fucking interest is there to our lives, go get one of your own or something for god’s sake…” Everyone agreed but still followed him to one of the shared inside spaces, frustration hanging heavy in the air.

As they settled around the pool table, anecdotes about obsessive fans and annoying paparazzis were shared, but Charles’ mind was drifting elsewhere. An idea had begun to take root, a small glimmer of hope for his relationship, to maybe get back his girlfriend, before sadness had taken over most of her. He chugged down the rest of his drink, and called for the attention of his friends.

“What if… what if we used the paps ? What if I said fuck you to Ferrari without dealing with the legal issues ?” A spark appeared in their eyes, and in their last sober decision, they called Alexandra to come down, all agreeing she would be their voice of reason.

Oblivious to it all, you were reading in bed when the gathering happened, and would never know of it.

Only a few days later was the plan put into action. Charles’ idea of using actual paparazzis was turned down by Alex, who reminded the boys of the consequences on their careers if anyone found out who made the call. Despite his drunken arguments of being ready to fuck it all for his girls, soundly supported by his friends, she had found a much safer solution.

When you stepped on the huge balcony, you felt tears come to your eyes, happy ones, for the first time in weeks. Your lovers had crafted a perfect romantic dinner for you, straight out of a movie. The table was laid out for three, candles lit up and rose petals everywhere on the ground. A bottle of expensive champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice, waiting to be popped podium-style, and Leo was waiting by the door with a little bow tie on his collar. You had missed being just the three of you, no waitress, no management, no friends, just a homemade dinner and loving looks.

So when they took you in their arms, wrapping you in love and affection, peppering your skin with kisses and sweet compliments, you simply gave in without a care for anything else. You hugged and kissed until you had no breath left, and let them treat you, for you had deserved it.

Yet the whole time, unbeknownst to you, Daniel and Max had been stationed right under your balcony, hidden from view as they snapped pictures of the intimate scene unfolding. They did their best to capture every shared glance and affectionate touch, every kiss and hug that would make it impossible to deny the love shared between you. They had all warned paparazzis were roaming in the area the night before, which would make the whole thing even more believable for the PR teams. The secret mission was going to perfection, and when you retreated indoors with a seductive wink to your partners, Charles and Alexandra gave a subtle thumbs up to the boys to signal the end of the work for tonight.

As you awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight through the curtains you had not closed well last night, a sense of peace came over you for the first time in a while. Yesterday’s romantic dinner, and night, was still fresh in your mind and body, and you smiled when greeted with your lovers’ sleeping faces when you turned in the bed. Reaching as quietly as possible for your phone, your soft morning suddenly turned to hell as you saw hundreds of notifications and missed calls appear on the lock screen.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrolled them all. Missed calls from Ferrari. Messages from long lost friends. And obviously, dozens and dozens of pictures plastered across every gossip account related to Formula 1. It seemed an anonymous account had taken and posted pictures of your very private dinner during the night, and then disappeared, right after the pictures had been reposted everywhere.

With trembling hands, you turned to look at Charles and Alexandra, still sleeping peacefully by your side. Instead of finding solace in their presence, a wave of dread washed over you, the fear of losing everything you held dear threatening to consume you whole. Would this be the breaking point for them ? Would Ferrari ask you to move out ? Would they all lie, deny completely your existence ?

The sound of Leo’s plaintive cries echoed through the room, snapping your partners from their slumber. They came even closer to you, filled with concern as your breathing got more and more erratic, tears streaming down your face. They took turns kissing away your tears and whispering words of comfort until you managed to give them your phone, as well as theirs. You tried regulating your breathing as they scrolled, and sat down, expecting a tough conversation straight after.

Alex simply threw her phone away after not even two minutes of screen time, coming back to lay her head on your chest and faking purring. Charles sighed, and opened the camera of his phone. Had they asked him to make an apology video ? He turned the camera to Leo, and added his hand to where Alex’s fingers were already intertwined with yours. Snapping a pic of the small dog with your three hands next to him, he immediately posted it on his story on Instagram, which he had apparently gotten back the login details for, with the caption “Family 4️⃣❤️”.

“About time it was out officially, right love ?” Charles stroked your cheek lovingly while your girlfriend hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer to you. “I was thinking your red dress for the event next week, and we could get me a new suit but” He kept rambling on, his phone buzzing non stop on his side table, head in the crook of your neck. Too stunned to speak, you simply laid back in the bed and let him talk your ear off. It wasn’t over then ?

By the time of the next Lec event, you were sure it was far from over. Alex was holding your hand, and you had gotten matching nails the day before. Charles had insisted you were the only one to wear red tonight, and he kept you as close as physically possible, one hand always on your waist. The little pup struggled to find his place in all this affection, but you made sure to keep him in your arms whenever he needed comfort, and otherwise refused to give the leash to anyone else. When Charles’ agent came to warn you there would be trouble, Alex stepped in front of you with the look of defiance you had always loved, and simply told him “With all due respect, fuck off.” Charles shrugged, saying this wasn’t a Ferrari event anyway, and smiled as he took you two away.

You finally stood tall and proud, at peace and at home. The party was quite private, you were mostly surrounded by friends and well-wishers, and one in particular came to greet you with the biggest smile on his face.

“As pretty as ever querida !” Carlos took you in his arms, and gave a small pet to Leo’s head. He congratulated you, and gesturing to the PR team seemingly having a breakdown in the corner of a room, he chuckled. “The only thing I won’t miss at Ferrari is their shitty strategy.” He winked at you before going back to the buffet, not without a last word “It’s clear the only happy family they should advertise is you three, with how they’re looking at you.”

You turned back to meet their eyes. Charles raised his glass to you, and Alex’s smile was brighter than the neon lights. You felt filled with pride, love, a sense of validation like no other. You thought of your mother, of her warm embrace and comforting words. You hoped she would see the pictures of tonight. You hoped she knew you had a home away from home in them. And so you ran to them, and laughed until your cheeks hurt, and danced until the lights went out, and promised to love until the very last star in the sky burnt out.

[toxic-libra]

moth to a flame pt.1 - csb (m)

pairing: soobin x fem!reader word count: 17.5k genre: friends with benefits-ish (he helps her with dating tips and stuff), angst if u squint really hard, smut, fluffy, inspired a bit by moth to a flame - the weeknd warnings: 3rd person pov (as always), mentions of reader in love with another guy (haechan <3), slight fwb dynamic, mature content (fingering, blowjob, deep throat, a tiny suggestion of masturbation, unsurprisingly a mention of big dick!soobin) tagging: @once27, @pageriviera, @gyuzlover, @kookley77-blog, @sendhelpiloveyeonjun

[a/n]: part two here.

Y/N knew from the beginning that being shy would ruin her life. In her defence, she wasn’t a shy kid… Not at all – she had thousands of friends and was ever so bold, leading her close group if they needed that extrovert-hand. Her first teen years still thrived in her social butterfly skills. However, something changed mid to late teens, and she hid inside her shell to never see the light again…

Well, until she met Soobin during college.

They had similar personalities, all drawn to quietness, refined tastes and interests. Y/N still remembered the shock on her face when Soobin said he wasn’t joining their friends at the end-of-the-semester party, simply because he wasn’t in the mood.

Which guy in his early 20s would skip a party and be honest about the reason behind it?!

She decided, then, that he was probably worth of getting over her shyness and befriending.

And now, four years later, they were still going.

Which brought her to the current situation: Lee Donghyuck.

Handsome, extrovert and Soobin’s gamer friend.

They met at a PC Bang, and somehow, clicked. Soobin wasn’t exactly antisocial, but he was shy, reserved and more on the quiet side, so getting close to a loud guy like Donghyuck in such setting was a welcomed surprise. Y/N looked at it as a sign to get out of her shell again, too.

But wanting to do it and doing it were two different things.

[19:06] y/n: where tf r u at

[19:06] binbin🐰: well some of us have stuff to do

jk i just got in

gonna shower and meet u in 15

She couldn’t help but grin, waiting.

The door lock rang with the noise of a password being typed. Seconds later, she heard his shoes being thrown inside the shoe-rack. Then, in a heartbeat, she was met with Soobin’s tall frame. When he saw her, his face broke in a pleased smile, while he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance.

“Now, what the fuck are you doing here?” Soobin took off his jacket, dimples still in full display despite his slightly harsh tone. “Are you that impatient?”

“Beomgyu and Mimi were doing a horror movie session, so we’ll have to do ours here.” She mused uninterested, laying back on the sofa again. “When I got home, they were already there, so…”

“Alright.” He sighed, opening a bit of his button-up. “I’ll wash up and see you in a minute.”

Her attention travelled from his face to his hands, wondering why men normally looked so good undressing themselves. “I’ll be waiting.”

Because, honestly, what else she could do?

Unblocking her phone, she scrolled through TikTok for a while, trying to distract herself. Her girl friends had warned her not to do what she was about to, suggesting she downloaded Tinder and got things over with, but Y/N just preferred to die than to use dating apps… Especially when she had means to try to catch Donghyuck by natural ways.

As soon as Soobin took his seat next to her, hair still damp from the shower and smelling his usual scent of vanilla and warm hugs – if that shit ever made sense –, Y/N felt her heart racing with expectation. It was such a risqué move, but she was desperate.

Somehow, all those years without male attention (in a romantic way) and her unbearable shyness started piling out, and it just got too much.

“Fried chicken and beer.” He mused. “You think of everything, thanks.”

“It’s not me, we’ve decided it yesterday.” She shrugged. “Which one are we watching tonight? We have three options: Kimi no Na wa, good ol’ Inuyasha, and finish that borderline pornographic and weird Kakeguri. Or, and hear me out, or you could finally listen to me once and give Ao Haru Ride a chance.” Y/N tucked her hands in a praying sign.

“I listened to you with Tokyo Ghoul, but only season one was good.”

“It’s because you’re tasteless! And you didn’t even try the manga!”

“You complained about the end in both.” He chuckled.

“B-but it’s because I was there for the gore and Ayato! But Ishida-sensei turned him into a softie…”

“This coming from the girl that only watches shoujo or josei.”

“Well, it’s your loss. Yeonjunnie and I just finished season three of Shingeki no Kyojin, and he’ll assure you I my recommendations are top tier.” She crossed her arms.

“I’ll watch it if you watch Jujutsu with me.”

“Fuck off.” Y/N groaned.

Another chuckle, and his dimples made an appearance. “What’s ‘Kimi no Na wa’ about?”

“Beomgyu said it’s a movie, and it was mind-blowing. Since we have similar tastes, I put it on our list.” She handed him her phone. “But if you’re in the mood, we can always watch Shin-chan.”

Quickly reading the synopses, he shook his head. “I’ll trust you and Beomy again.”

Her smile was enough to make him not care if their choice was good or not.

Y/N had planned to introduce her problem during their anime-party, but as expected, she was so invested in the movie that it escaped her completely. By the end of the animation, she was nestled on her side of the sofa, holding back a sob, teary eyes burning with the need to weep. As the credits appeared on the screen, she looked at her best friend, and her lips quivered.

“Oh God, you too?” Her voice sounded choked.

He had a tear or two rolling down his face, eyes red and glinting. “This was…”

“So beautiful! So tragically beautiful!” She stroked his damp cheek, collecting a teardrop. “Can’t believe you really cried… Beomgyu will holler when he hears about this.”

“So don’t tell him!” He pouted. “Why are you holding back? Your eyes are teary, too.”

“You know I hate crying. However, it’s been a while since I felt so touched by a movie that I almost gave in.” She giggled shakily. “Well, that was amazing.”

“Want something sweet for comfort? I baked Nutella bread.”

“Were you planning on telling me this at some point or…?”

Grinning, Soobin got up and went to the kitchen. “Honestly, I was trying to keep it low, because I don’t want Beomgyu eating them all.” His voice was muffled by the distance. “However, I can make an exception for you.” Since Y/N disliked skinship or anything that made her look weak next to any living thing, throughout years of friendship, Soobin noticed she often used food as comfort.

“When did you bake them?”

“Yesterday.”

“Makes sense.” She chuckled, remembering Beomgyu slept at her apartment, which was on the floor above. “Did his stomping annoy you? He did it on purpose.”

“I barely noticed, I was gaming with the boys.”

Oh.

Her heart skipped a beat, tongue tingling with the unspoken question.

“What did you play? Did you win?”

“Overwatch, and yes, I did. I mean, we did.”

“Who did you play with?” She really hoped her voice was tinged with normal curiosity.

“That you’ve met? Yeonjun and Donghyuck… Beomy was out, as you know.”

“Hmm… Of course, you guys would win, my Yeonjunnie never loses!”

“He almost fucked things up, though.” Coming back with a huge plate, Soobin took his place next to her once again. “Luckily, I had his back. Here, take a bite.” He held the bread in front of her.

Steading his wrist, Y/N did as instructed, biting into the soft dough and being quickly hit by a Nutella explosion. She half-groaned, half-chuckled as the filling stained her chin. Wiping it out with her finger, she sucked the spread and moaned in delight.

“Fuck, Soobin, you get better every time!”

His adorable dimples were on display, and his eyes twinkled with satisfaction. “Right?”

There was a comfortable silence, each eating bread while the credits finished rolling.

Maybe that was the right time to ask him for the favour. Despite her best friends reasoning her not to mix business with pleasure, she just couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to. Also, if he rejected her, then she’d find something else, for sure. But, as for now, this was the best idea she came up with, and if one looked at it seriously, they’d understand it made perfect sense.

“So… I was thinking…” She started, licking her fingers clean.

“Please, don’t. It’s never good when you do!”

“Maybe when Beomgyu and I do it together, I admit, but when I do it alone…”

“And was this alone?” He cut her off, sceptical.

“Why, of course!” Y/N slapped his thigh. “Now, listen, I was thinking… About this guy… I have a crush on him, you know? And it’s been a while since it happened.”

“And?”

“And you’re friends with him... So, maybe if you could help me in this, I’ll be your slave for a week or something?! And by helping, I mean, act like a wingman and also teach me the things he likes, how to flirt with him, what to do when we finally get together, like… Intimate time and… It’d be like, for practice purpose, just so I build up enough confidence to grab his attention and ask him out.” Normally, when she was nervous, she’d start babbling nonsense. But that? That was a whole new level of nonsense. “No hard feelings if you don’t want to or anything. However, I’d really, really appreciate your guidance, because…”

“Stop! Stop!” His big hands waved next to his face, silencing her. “What the fuck are you on?!”

“I beg your pardon?” She frowned.

“Have you any idea of what came out of your mouth just now? Are you completely insane?” His eyes were wide, disbelief dripping in every word. “Y/N, I can’t j-just teach you stuff! This is something you don’t…” He paused, uncomfortable with the mere thought.

“What? If not you, then who? I don’t have a love life, Bin. I haven’t kissed a man in years!”

“I don’t know! Maybe Yeonjun? He’s sure more experienced and... H-he’s your darling dearest!”

“Are you insane?” It was her turn to ogle him as if he was an alien.

“Excuse me?”

“How can you even suggest that?!”

“Suggest what? Yeonjun?” Soobin rose to his full height, restless. “I don’t even know why we’re still on this topic; anyway, yes, he’s your favourite man on Earth, so just…”

“Precisely why he’s not even an option!” She cut him off. “How can you even suggest…!” She was baffled. “Oh my God, that’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard!”

“I don’t know if I should feel offended or relieved by your proposition, then.”

“No, no, no. You’re going about this in the wrong way!” Y/N groaned. “Yeonjun and I are like siblings, kindred spirits. The mere idea of being something other than it makes me feel weird.”

“But the idea of being intimate with me doesn’t? I’m not a kindred spirit to you too?!”

“It’s different.” She huffed, hesitating.

“Different how?”

“W-well, different! Different in a way you’re not a brother to me, but a best friend.” Y/N cringed at the words as they came out, knowing they didn’t sound like a compliment… But they were!

“God, you want me to help you with some guy, but somehow, I’m not even worth kindred spirit category?! You do have a way of making people feel special, Y/N.”

“Ugh, you’re making it sound like it’s a bad thing!”

“It is a bad thing, you lunatic woman!” Soobin shook his head, exasperated. “We’ll be risking our friendship, for fuck sakes! A boy and a girl can’t exactly remain friends after stuff like that.”

“Well, Yeonjunnie and I…”

“You didn’t ask Yeonjun this!”

“Well, if you don’t want to, you can just say it!”

“I just did!” He groaned, ruffling his hair again.

“Ok!” Y/N crossed her arms, pouting.

“Ok!” He mimicked her.

The silence, once comfortable, wasn’t like that anymore. She knew it could come to that result, but she really thought Soobin would say yes. Side-eyeing him, her heart clenched. They used to argue, for she was weirdly similar to Beomgyu in some ways (and he got in Soobin’s nerves often), but Y/N could never stay mad at him for too long.

“I was… It was… It was just an idea.” She relaxed her posture, offering the white flag first. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable… I was just desperate for a direction.”

Resting his head on the upholstered headboard, Soobin sighed, forcing his body to relax too. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.” He said. “Who is him, by the way?”

“D-Donghyuck.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s huge.” And he understood her crazy mind a bit more. “I can tell you what he likes, though.” He still stood firm against getting involved with her, but that much he could help.

“Can you?”

“I can’t promise it will work, but…” He shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter, I’d love to hear it!” She reached for him, tugging at his hand with a hopeful smile. “Any little thing you remember, I want to know them all.” Her thumb stroked his skin.

Upon feeling such unusual caress, Soobin looked from their joined hands to her face, lighted-up with a spark of adoration. How did it pass him that his best friend had a crush?! How could he be blind to such changes? Was he really so nonchalant towards others?

“How long has it been?”

“Pardon?”

“Your crush, how long has it been?”

“Almost two months.” It was the first time she blushed because of a real life guy in front of him, and Soobin found it unexpectedly fascinating. “Why?”

“I was wondering why I didn’t notice it before.”

“Well, I don’t exactly go around telling people about it, nor I’ve met Donghyuck enough times for you to pick up the way I become a mess near him.”

He grinned, finding that absurd. Y/N never became a mess near anyone; in fact, she rarely gave people more than three seconds of honest attention.

“You’re not gonna like this, but his favourite food at the moment is jangeo-gui.” His smile grew at her disgusted face. “Better start appreciating eels if you wanna make him happy.”

She rolled her eyes at his teasing, but urged him to keep going.

A week later

In that boring Thursday night, Beomgyu arrived with yet another huge bowl of sweets – this time, matcha and white chocolate cookies.

“It’s out of hand! Someone has to intervene!” He whined, giving it to Y/N. “It’s your favourite.”

“I’m not really into cookies, though.”

“But you love matcha and white chocolate, so wipe this out of Earth, please. I can’t stand looking at desserts anymore!” He pouted. “Soobin is so annoying! Why is he doing this to me?”

“Pretty sure you’re not his target in anything, Beomy, but go off I guess.” Mimi chuckled.

“Then why is he baking sweets non-stop?! He knows how much I like eating them.”

“Maybe he has a lot on his mind, you know he does that when he’s thinking.” His girlfriend shrugged, eyeing Y/N. “Do you have anything to do with this or is it just a coincidence?”

“Me?” Y/N widened her eyes, faux surprise laced in her tone. “Why would I?!”

“I wonder.” Mimi quipped.

“Beomgyu!” Y/N turned to her friend.

“I can’t help, sorry.” He raised his hands in surrender.

“Yeonjunnie would!”

“Of course, he’s your darling dearest! I don’t even come in second, Soobin is there.”

“That’s not true!” She pouted. “You’re Mimi’s boyfriend, I couldn’t possibly put you in first! Besides, despite obvious reasons, you’re my favourite girl friend.”

“I hate her.” Beomgyu looked at Mimi. “I truly do.”

“How can you say that when we’re literally the same person?!” Y/N’s pout grew bigger. “Well, since I’m not cared for here, I’ll go to someone who-”

“Soobin’s not home. He went out with Yeonjun.” Beomgyu cut her off.

“Where to?”

Mimi raised an eyebrow at Y/N. The fact that she didn’t know Soobin’s schedule was enough for her to suppose the eldest one did ignore everyone’s warnings and went on with her crazy plan. And by Y/N’s intentional gaze on Beomgyu (avoiding hers), Mimi didn’t even need confirmation.

“A PC Bang. Actually, I’m quite late myself.”

“Are you going there too?”

“Nah, I’m staying home.” He stood up. “Got your things, babe?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Wait, you’re leaving too?”

“Yeah, I’ll sleep there.” Mimi agreed. “Enjoy your batch of cookies and stop messing with Soobin’s head. Haera said she’ll drop by to install our cabinet, so pay attention to the doorbell.”

“Ok.” Sighing, Y/N took a cookie. “I’ll be all alone and miserable because my friends either hate me or are too busy to hang out with me.”

Beomgyu’s giggle infuriated her, and she cursed Haena and Felicia for not living in the same building. At least, if Hae really showed up, she’d have company for dinner.

It was past eleven when Y/N’s front door opened. She was tucked on the sofa, the plate with 5 matcha cookies already empty, jokingly wallowing in pity for being left out, throat tight and eyes burning with the need to cry – not for the light-hearted drama she made, but for the anime movie she watched. If she wasn’t so intended in pretending to be mad at Beomgyu, she’d text him and recommend ‘5 Centimetres per Second’. It was always gut-wrenching to deal with open endings, and by reviews, this one wouldn’t be as optimistic as Kimi no Na wa’s. At this point, one would wonder: why did she keep watching sad movies if she didn’t want to cry or feel sad?

Obviously, she wanted to challenge herself and see until when she could take it.

Before the first teardrop could break through her resolve, the electronic door-lock rang, and she sat down, surprised. Pausing the movie, Y/N searched for her phone… Haena hadn’t called, but the seven missed calls from ‘Darling dearest’ and three from ‘Binbin’ warned her beforehand.

“Yeonjunnie?!” Whoever looked at her wide grin now could never guess she was about to cry milliseconds ago. Rushing towards the man, she hugged him tightly.

“Hi, darling.” Yeonjun kissed her head. “Watcha doing? Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I was watching a movie.” Y/N gestured to the living room. “Wanna come in?”

“We’re already in, but I just dropped by to see you for a bit. I’m heading home.”

“I’ll crash here, though.” Soobin stated. “Beomgyu’s sulky because we lost and he’s blaming me… I don’t want to deal with his complaints, so I’ll spend the night. Is it ok?”

“Of course.” She agreed. “Don’t you want to stay too?” Her fingers pinched Yeonjun’s arm slightly, and Soobin wondered why she was always so quick and sure in wrapping herself around their friend, but when it came to him or anyone else, Y/N was distant.

“Nah, then we won’t get an hour of sleep.” He chuckled. “You’ll talk my ears off, and Beomgyu already did it… In screaming fashion.”

She grinned. “Looks like he wanted to piss everyone off today. I’m mad at him too.”

“That’s new. What happened?”

“He said he’s not my first option, so he didn’t defend me when I needed him to.” She shrugged, scrunching her nose a bit. “You would jump down anyone’s throat for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Without hesitating.” Yeonjun agreed. “We both would, actually. And that’s why we’re better than Beomgyu, so don’t sweat it. I’m leaving.” With another kiss on her head, he pinched her cheek and moved to the door, eyeing Soobin with a raised eyebrow. “Bye, bro.”

Soobin waved, sighing. “See ya.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I’d love to have a sleepover with my darling dearest and my Binbin.” She tried one last time.

“Not tonight, darling. I really need some rest.” Yeonjun lied, going out.

Truth be told, Y/N didn’t mind it that much. Her real problem was the white elephant that still lingered in the room when she was alone with Soobin.

He ignored her for the whole week, and she didn’t blame him. Y/N ignored him too. They played safe while he listed what Donghyuck liked or not, but after the topic died, she was annoyingly embarrassed, and soon excused herself home. It was their last conversation up until now. She kept herself busy during the whole weekend, then, thanks to her job, she didn’t have much time to spare until tonight. When Beomgyu told her Soobin was out with Yeonjun, her stomach did flip in relief, for she wouldn’t have to show up in his house out of nowhere, just so their friends wouldn’t notice something definitely wasn’t right with them.

She was never shy near Soobin, and he most definitely wouldn’t pretend she didn’t exist.

But he baked non-stop, leaving her a bit guilty. In a moment of repentance, she opened Instagram and followed Hyuck. Maybe she didn’t need to bring Soobin into her messy though eventless love life. Maybe she could woo Donghyuck without his (or anyone’s) help.

Facing the floor, she took a deep breath and tried to put on her best expression.

“So… Are you hungry?”

“I had dinner at the PC Bang.” He took off his shoes, taking his pair of slippers that were there.

“Oh, I see. Then, what do you wanna do now?”

“Freshen up and skincare, maybe?” Soobin suggested.

“You already know the way.” She gestured towards the rooms. “I’ll clean this up and meet you in a second.” Taking the plate, she wondered if she should tell him about the sweets. However, Soobin was already moving, and silence kept her company.

Turning off the TV, Y/N rushed to the kitchen.

There was an unsettling feeling in her stomach. He couldn’t possibly be there just because his roommate and best friend was annoying – if so, he would’ve slept in her house almost every day. And he wouldn’t most likely show up unannounced, not after what happened to them a week ago.

Which drew her to the only conclusion left: he wanted to talk to her about that.

All the baking, the ghosting, the uneasiness… Soobin had been thinking.

The bathroom had the door opened, and Y/N caught a glimpse of him in his grey sweatpants and white shirt, already changed for bed. She rested against the doorframe, unsure of the silence, but not wanting to push any buttons before reading his mood.

“Are you not joining me?” He asked, bringing her out of her trance.

“Oh, I… Of course.” Stepping in, she took his side, watching themselves in the mirror. Soobin was tall and lean, his black hair was tossed to the back thanks to her hairband. He looked tired, which only added to her guilt. “Did you and Yeonjunnie have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad.”

He didn’t say anything else, and Y/N felt discouraged. After brushing her teeth, she started her routine and he left, saying he’d wait her in the bedroom.

To say she took her time was an understatement. She was afraid of being alone with him and that awful atmosphere around them.

However, she couldn’t spend the night in the bathroom.

Soobin wasn’t lying on the floor like he used to. He was sitting on her desk, doing something on his phone, but as soon as she showed up, he put it down.

“You couldn’t find the mattress?” She wondered.

“I was hoping we would sleep together.”

Y/N froze.

What the actual fuck?!

“I beg your pardon?”

“I meditated about your request… About Hyuck and all,” He looked at her. “and I accept it.”

If there was one thing Choi Soobin never failed to amaze her, was in his straightforwardness. He had a really non-conflict, introspective and introverted personality… But, boy, when he decided to speak his mind… He didn’t play around. When he reached his resolve, that was it.  

“O-oh.” She was flabbergasted.

“So, how is this going to work? We’ll schedule classes?! Go with a more ‘unserious’ approach?”

God, he was…

Overwhelming, sometimes.

“I-I didn’t think much past the need to be helped.” Y/N confessed, feeling her mouth dry. “And you had declined before, so I just… Kind of ignored everything.”

The unsettledness in her stomach was annoying and embarrassing. She knew better than asking him if he was sure – he would never go back to this topic and change his mind if he wasn’t.

“Well, we need a plan, don’t we?”

“Yeah, sure.” Agreeing, her face coloured. “But I’m sorry, Bin, I know I requested it… But I’m not exactly in the mood to… You know… Get intimate tonight.”

“What?” He frowned.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re handsome and all, b-but… I think I need a bit more time to…”

His chuckle announced his dimples. “Wait, did you think I was asking to have sex with you?!”

“Y-you said ‘I was hoping we would sleep together’!” She retorted, defensive. “We never slept in the same bed, so I... Y-you just had agreed with it and I…”

“I wouldn’t be so tactless, Y/N.” He cut her off, that easy smile still on his lips. “Even if it’s not our main purpose here to woo each other, I’d be more romantic about it.”

Y/N gulped, wondering why the perspective now made her feel… Bothered.

“Ok, let’s end this conversation here. I’m turning off the lights.” She reached for the light-switch. “So fucking awkward, oh my God! What did I have in mind?” Her whisper still could be heard.

“You want to back off? I can just play cupid.” He offered.

But there was no use him playing wingman if she would still feel insecure.

“No.”

“Then lay down and try to relax. Donghyuck is pretty touchy, so you have to get used to someone invading your personal space.” Soobin took his side of the bed, staring at the ceiling. “How is that you can’t leave Yeonjun alone, but when it comes to anyone else, you look uncomfortable?”

“I honestly don’t know. As far as I’m concerned, it’s always been like that.” She shrugged. “I also like it when you hug me and stuff, though you don’t do it often.” Y/N was thankful for the dark, ‘cause this way he wouldn’t catch her blushing (again).

“I thought you didn’t like it, so I held back.”

“Well, I do.” Y/N felt his body warm next to her, pulling the covers over them.

Soobin turned around, facing her profile. His hand found her arm, tracing her skin while going up and down. There was something heavily intimate about the way her breath caught, and he felt his chest tighten at the quiet sound. “Is this alright?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me about the movie.” He asked, knowing some distraction would help ease her out.

“It’s an open ending like ‘Kimi no Na wa’, but from what I understood from the reviews, it doesn’t hint at happiness.” She turned to him, too, and his hand slid to her waist. “B-Bin?”

“But what is the plot? Why did you decide to watch it?” His fingers explored from her waist to her back, urging her closer. “C’mere, I wanna hug you.”

Hugging Choi Soobin was one of a mortal’s most preferred activities, she was sure. On the rare occasions they hugged, Y/N almost melted against him. He had the perfect amount of comfort, warmth and strength… And, again, he smelled so good she wanted to truly dissolve into him.

“It’s divided in three parts.” She moved, being caged by his arms. “W-what should I do now?”

“Hug me back, silly.” He chuckled, and her face was pressed against his chest, letting her feel the vibration of that cute sound. “Keep going, don’t get distracted by this.”

“Easy to say, since you like skinship!” Y/N groaned.

“You’re reading too much into it, it’s just a hug. Relax.” His big hands kept moving on her back, scratching it slightly, like her mom used to do when she was younger and had trouble sleeping.

“Fuck, I must look so pathetic right now.” She looked up, meeting his eyes.

It was dark, the city lights doing a poor job of brightening the room a bit, but Y/N could still see the gleam in those soft boba eyes of his. The blush on her face deepened, heart skipping a bit. Could it be that because it had been so long since she was in a man’s arms (that wasn’t Yeonjun), any minor interaction would have her mind running wild?! Because she felt so confused in how to behave there – should she mimic the caress? Should she rest her face next to his neck, or keep it where it was? Should she turn around and be the small spoon?

“No, you don’t.” His voice was slightly hoarse. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, but I didn’t know how you’d react. It was really hard to spend anime nights feet apart.”

The confession took her by surprise. “Why is that people care so much about skinship?”

“I’m not sure, but to me, there’s some kind of next-level comfort in it.”

“You’re just touch starved.” She rolled her eyes, noticing his smile widening. Such a pity the dark shadowed his dimples! “However, I’ll admit it’s quite nice.”

“Better than Yeonjun’s?”

“Oh, know your limits.”

Now he laughed, and his body shook a little, grip tightening in reflex. Y/N swallowed the truth: hugging him had absolutely nothing to do with hugging her darling dearest… And it was scaring.

Three days later

Donghyuck offered her a beer and winked. She felt her heart clenching, forcing a smile back.

It was the fourth time she met Hyuck out of a PC Bang. Sometimes she’d join Soobin there, not to play any games he liked, but just to be out of the house a bit. Tonight, she wasn’t feeling like staying home, but didn’t want the noisy mess of the PC Bang… So, her amazing friend suggested they met for chimek after he finished his hours there.

Therefore, here she was, sat between his tall body and Yeonjun’s comforting presence, staring at the guy in front of her with heart-eyes and rosy cheeks… Thankfully, she could blame the alcohol.

“Oh, thank you.” She hoped her voice was steady.

“I saw your Stories yesterday about the Flying Yoga class.” Hyuck grinned. “Soobin aced it.”

“He did, didn’t he?!” Her face relaxed into a more natural smile.

“I still feel my crotch burning and my leg circulation being cut out.” Yeonjun laughed.

“If I was there, I’d be like Beomgyu and scream the whole time.” Donghyuck commented. “I still can’t believe he agreed to it.” The grin on his heart-shaped mouth was enough to make her gulp.

God, she wanted to kiss that man so fucking bad it was embarrassing.

“The instructor didn’t appreciate it, but it made the pain bearable because I got distracted laughing at him.” Y/N replied, not wanting to waist a second without engaging with him.

“I might’ve been the MVP, but Y/N has the best flexibility.” Soobin said, letting his hand rest on her thigh and giving her knee a pinch. “She does Pilates, you know?”

Donghyuck looked at her, interested. “Oh.”

“Do you play any sports, Hyuck?”

“A bit of football, badminton… But nothing too extreme.” He shrugged. “I invited Soobin once to join my football team, but he said he preferred not moving an inch from his bed.”

“He’s a homebody, unfortunately. I had to almost cry in order to drag him to the class.” She chuckled. “I bring him to the gym two to three times a week, but he whines all the time.”

“I might try Pilates with you if you want, sounds quieter and easier.” Soobin offered.

“Tsk, he got so cocky after the Flying Yoga episode.” She playfully rolled her eyes.

Before they could comment on anything else, the waiter brough their fried chicken. As always, a variety of flavours were ordered, so they could indulge without restriction.

Something shifted between them.

Soobin noticed it during dinner – not when Y/N begged him to ‘teach her’ to flirt and all that. His lingering touches might’ve just cracked open something inside her, or a switch had been flipped and she was now a different person… Not that he was gonna complain. He absolutely melted when he took his hand off her thigh, and not a second later, she reached out for him again, linking their arms. And throughout the rest of the night, she just wouldn’t leave him alone.

Walking back home, she remained glued to him.

“Maybe we could’ve g0ne to the club with them…”

“You want to? I can take you there.” Soobin typed his password.

“Do you?”

“Nah.”

“Then I don’t, either.”

He chuckled, letting her inside first. “You’re funny.”

“If you think about it, it’s better this way. I wouldn’t know what to do if Donghyuck flirted with someone, and I’m not exactly ready to be on his radar yet.” She took off her shoes, sighing.

“What is it that you’re so afraid off?”

“I don’t know… It’s been so long and I feel like an insecure teenage girl.”

He hummed. “Well, lucky for you I exist.”

“I swear people assume you’re shy and introverted, but are not aware of your conceited ass.”

“The fact that I prefer being left alone doesn’t mean I’m ugly.” He shrugged, smirking. “You know, these dimples made a bunch of girls cry in high school and college.”

“So I’ve been told.” Y/N pretended to be unphased. “Are you gonna game now?”

“Nope. I think we should finally decide on our plan, no?” Soobin had to hold back another chuckle, for he found it funny that she was avoiding this talk when she was the one to request his help.

“Right now?”

“I don’t see a better time. C’mon Y/N, do you want Donghyuck or not?!”

“I do, but it’s embarrassing to be this inexperienced at my age and let people know about it!”

“Don’t think like that, there’s not a right time for this… People experience love when they have to.”

Her smile was shy, but she felt so glad Soobin was in her life. Not even once he made fun of her insecurities, he was respecting her boundaries and trying to get her off her shell slowly, so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed. Yeah, he did call her a lunatic before, but she could understand where he came from – if he was the one asking such favour, she’d react the same.

That’s why he was so right for the role.

“Thank you.”

His dimples broke in for the nth time, but it was different. This time, she felt the impulse.

“What?” Soobin frowned slightly, noticing her weird expression.

“N-nothing.” Y/N cleared her throat. “Just trying to remember if I brought back my clean pyjamas from home… Or else I’ll have to go upstairs to fetch one.”

“You did, I put it in my stuff. Let’s go, then.”

She gathered her thoughts, trying to reason with them. It made sense, albeit embarrassing. She spent the evening with Hyuck, and Soobin being the chosen one for helping her, it was only natural she’d feel some kind of magnetic force pulling her to him… They were about to discuss strategies that’d take her to Donghyuck. It was obvious she’d fantasise about kissing Soobin.

Because they would kiss each other… At some point.

Ever the gentleman, Soobin let Y/N use the bathroom first. She changed clothes, flossed, brushed her teeth and did her skincare. After that, she laid on his bed while he finished his night routine.

All the time, her mind spiralled between Hyuck’s playful smirk and a way to get it directed at her. He was such a funny guy, his aura pretty welcoming, and if Y/N didn’t spend the whole evening drooling over him, she’d notice how easy it would be to become friends with him – and then, she’d could try being something more. However, she’d just have to get rid of her shyness first. Nothing would work if she kept in her shell, insecure and afraid of letting her true self come out again.

“A penny for your thoughts.” Soobin wondered, slipping in the bed too.

Y/N shuffled to the wall, giving him some room. “How do I stop being shy?”

“Uh… If I knew, I probably wouldn’t be shy myself.” He grinned at her bored face. “But I think you either are born like that, or you get there through trauma.”

“I was born like that… But something happened and I withdraw completely… I can’t remember what, though.” She sighed. “Do you think Hyuck would mind if I’m quieter in the beginning?”

“I think he’d like someone calmer than him, yeah.” Soobin mused. “So, our plan…?”

She groaned, turning to face him. “What do guys like? How does one tickle their interest?”

“Hmm… It’s different for each guy, but normally having a pretty face and a pretty body do the trick.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing she was getting annoyed. “But I know you already know this… So, we can try to find out if he thinks you’re pretty.”

“How?”

“Do you guys follow each other on Instagram?”

“Yeah, I followed him first.”

“It doesn’t matter. Did he like a picture or something?”

“The last posted.”

“Nice.” Then he frowned. “Fuck, Y/N, your last picture posted is from two years ago!”

“Well, yeah, but…” She pouted. “You know I’m not into Instagram!”

“You’re going to have to be more active, though. At least in the start, just so you keep fresh on his mind. Like, every time he opens the app, there you are.” Soobin smiled. “Do you have Tinder?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, maybe if you matched on Tinder, you could crack a joke or something… It can be a good topic. He might like a girl that jokes around like he does.”

She sighed, seeing his point. “But what if he isn’t there? What if–”

“He is there.” Soobin stated. “Now, we just need to know if you’d match. Where’s your phone? Let’s set your profile up right away.”

“You’re enjoying this now, aren’t you?” Y/N gave up resisting, touching the mattress, searching for the device. He giggled cutely when her fingers pinched his waist, and she couldn’t help but smile at him too. “Here, you were laying on it.”

She let him do everything, snuggling closer and breathing his sweet cologne, answering his questions whenever needed. Being this close to him was a whole new state of cosiness, and she was actually living for it. Yes, he was bony and thinner than she actually enjoyed, but Soobin was warm and soothing in a way that didn’t match his body.

He even decided on her profile picture, mumbling quietly that she looked pretty.

“Tomorrow we’ll continue this, ok?” Blocking her phone, he put it on the bedside table. “So, apart from Tinder and Instagram, what else?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one guiding?”

“Not like that, silly. I mean, what else are you insecure about? What do you think you’ll need me?”

“You already told me some of his preferences, so I feel confident enough to start a conversation… Well, if I stop drooling over him whenever he’s near.” She chuckled. “But… Bin, what do people do in a date? I’ve never been to one, you know.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Never ever?”

“Are you deaf?”

“Sorry, I’m just surprised. Why not?! Not even when you were in high school?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly give boys many signs I wanted to be asked in one.” She shrugged.

“Wow… I feel… Weird about this information?” He frowned. “So maybe we should focus on that, no? Like… How about we go on a fake date? I’ll try to find out what type of date Donghyuck usually goes and we mimic them, so it’ll be easier for you.”

“You’re the best, Bin.” Y/N pinched his arm, appreciating the effort.

“I know.”

A week later

A fucking amusement park.

Yeah, she probably should’ve seen it coming.

Not that she was upset by Donghyuck’s/Soobin’s choice… Maybe a first date wasn’t exactly supposed to be romantic at all, for people didn’t know if they’d click or not.

Everland was a good place, there were nice rides, sightseeing in a cute zoo and great food. Keeping it a secret from their friends, so they could come alone, both left home early – also planning to avoid the huge crowd for as long as possible, and to enjoy the day to the fullest.

As soon as they entered, Soobin suggested they bought a souvenir, so they could get into their couple persona. He chose a red panda hat, and she ended up with a normal panda one.

“What do you want to do first? See the animals, go for the rides or eat something?”

“We ate not an hour ago, Bin. Let’s see the animals, then we go for the best part.” She grinned. “I want to ride the Seater Human Sky for Zootopia. Can we?”

“Of course.” He searched for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “I’m sure Hyuck will touch you without hesitating, so I’m trying to behave like he probably will.” Not that he needed to explain himself, but he did anyway. “Let me buy these, and then we’re good to go.”

“Oh, alright.” Y/N gave him her hat. If he wanted to pay, she wouldn’t dodge out of politeness. This was a fake date, ok, but she should act like she would in a real one.

They visited all animals, spending almost the whole morning on it. Lots of pictures were taken, and although Y/N was used to talk a lot, she kept relatively quiet. Sometimes, they would look at each other and laugh, because it was funny to keep asking those first-base questions while already knowing the answers… And every time his dimples showed up or his huge hand touched her, she was reminded that it was her best friend there, not Donghyuck.

And, at some point, she messed up.

Maybe after they finished their tour in American Adventure and went for lunch… Or during the T-Express ride, for rollercoasters always lifted their spirits (and they were still high from the Rolling X-Train experience)… The way he was beaming with satisfaction made her stomach churn.

With the sunset colouring the skies, they left the park with an unsettling feeling.

The trip home was silent, with Soobin falling asleep as soon as the bus took off, and Y/N listening to her playlist, looking at the photos they took throughout the day and erasing those that were blurred or snapped by mistake. She sent one of Fu Bao to Yeonjun, knowing how much he loved the panda. Then, amidst cute animals, she found a video of Soobin’s side profile. He had his dimples on full display, and his… Cocky smile too?

Y/N could hear herself talking behind the camera, but she couldn’t make up the words, too startled by the realisation that he was really handsome. Closing the gallery app, she sighed and tried to get some rest too. There was no point in entertaining such thoughts.

Less than an hour later, they were walking back to their building. Soobin said he’d drop her off, like a gentleman would obviously do, and kept his hand on hers the whole two-blocks distance.

“Will you go up too?” She wondered.

“It’ll be too forward for a first date, won’t it?”

“Well, I don’t know? You do live here, after all.”

“But Donghyuck doesn’t.”

Donghyuck… Yeah, of course.

“Right.” She cleared her throat. “Then, goodbye. I had a lovely and funny time today.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled softly. “We should do it again.”

“I’d love that.” Y/N got on the tip of her feet. “Goodnight, Bin. I m-mean, Hyuck.” She kissed his cheek (more like his jawline) and almost ran towards the building entrance.

Pressing her floor number while trying to conceal her exaggerated and annoying heartbeat, any idea of peace vanished as Soobin’s tall frame occupied the other side of the elevator.

“I do live here, after all.” His voice was light, tinted with mirth.

There it was again, the slightly cocky, patronising smirk.

She looked at the ground, confused by her own reaction. They kept silent except for the usual ‘Goodbye’ when he arrived at his floor first.

Typing her password, Y/N entered her house feeling dizzy.

Something was wrong. Something was really wrong and she only had her celibacy to blame! Taking off her shoes, she sat down on the hall, ruffling her hair and groaning in exasperation. However, before she could give in to a tantrum, the doorbell rang. Confused, she opened it without checking. Her closest friends knew the password, but maybe…

Barely registering the black hair and known warmth, Y/N was pressed against the wall, Soobin towering over her, bringing her jaw up and smashing his mouth against hers.

Her body froze, mind going blank at the unexpected touch.

She remained unresponsive for a second or two, trying to overcome the initial shock. It was enough for him to back off, misunderstanding her lack of reaction. He was still a breath away, though, his nose bumping into hers as he looked her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don-”

She cut the distance, kissing him again. Really doing it now.

Her arms circled around his neck, pulling him closer, moaning at the way his fingers tugged on her hair, tilting her face up. His tongue took advantage of her open mouth, slipping inside and starting its conquest. Y/N felt putty in his embrace, puzzled and consumed by the caress. She thought that those years of being romance-deprived would have turned her into an inexperienced girl once again, but it didn’t look like that.

She knew what to do, and her body seemed to understand it as well.

And even if she didn’t, it was clear Soobin did.

Shivering at the reminding of her kissing her best friend, something burned inside her. She felt bolder, nails scratching his nape and mingling with the soft strands of his hair. He groaned like a defeated warrior, pressing her harder between the wall and his body.

The whole fire made a known path, and Y/N snapped back into reality.

“Bin-?!” She pushed him away, gasping for air at the same time.

He looked at her through heavy lids, the light in the hall being enough to let her see his dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of emotions she also felt. Nevertheless, all that seemed to be swept aside when he blinked, a controlled and neutral expression taking over.

“Donghyuck would kiss you after the first date. I’m sure he would.”

And just like that, Soobin killed the spark.

The first contact after the events of the other night was awkward.

Upon feeling his hands on her, for their usual hug as a greeting, her voice cracked and her heart raced, the heat of embarrassment creeping up her spine. When their eyes met, her breath caught, remembering the way he looked at her seconds before shoving her right back in reality.

‘Donghyuck would kiss you after the first date. I’m sure he would.’

She was mad at herself for being mad at Soobin for saying that. Wasn’t finally being with Hyuck the sole purpose of all that?! Why was she a bit depressed he kissed her with that in mind?!

Was she so affection starved that she would start fantasising about Soobin now?

Pathetic.

“‘Seeing Fu Bao without my darling dearest to assert dominance.’” Yeonjun scoffed, showing her his phone – opened on her IG Story.

“She’s my rival, I had to.” Y/N shrugged. She had just posted one of Fu Bao’s videos from the date, because Soobin requested her to be more active on her social media. She’d added Hyuck on her Close Friends, hoping it would be a good hint of her true intentions.

“Your rival?” Yeonjun frowned.

“You love her a lot… It bothers me.”

“You love Soobin a lot and I don’t consider him my rival.”

“It’s different!”

“Why?”

“I don’t love him like I love you.” Y/N pouted.

“She’s so open about her favouritism.” Haena chuckled. “Sorry, Soobs.”

“I’ve been warned about this before, so I’m kinda numb to the pain.” Soobin jested. “It’s not nice losing to him, but I can manage being second.” He eyed Beomgyu. “At least I’m not third.”

“Well, I have a girlfriend and Y/N respects the fact my girlfriend is my favourite always!” Gyu retorted, a hand on his heart as if he felt offended. “And she can’t make me her favourite, either.”

“But you’re not the second, Bin!” Y/N pleaded, feeling her stomach sink a bit. “You’re…”

“Your best friend, Yeonjun’s your brother. Yeah, I know.” He commented, pouring himself some beer. “You told me that already.” On the day she asked him for that absurd favour… He was glad she seemed a bit ashamed of being biased, at least.

Y/N gulped, going quiet too soon. Normally, she’d argue, trying to make her point. Right now, though, she didn’t have the energy nor the facts to fight him.

Because things have changed.

More than ever, she was so painfully aware that what she felt for Yeonjun had nothing to do with what she felt for Soobin. She couldn’t even fathom doing more than some specific skinship with Yeonjun without feeling like committing incest… Whereas with Soobin, her mind entertained some different thoughts altogether – as outrageous as they should be.

It only took one kiss, and all the platonic, ‘academic research’ notion she had of Soobin crumbled.

She really believed she’d be immune to whatever happened between them, because Donghyuck was exactly what she wanted… However, she didn’t consider the impact of her celibacy. Y/N was painfully starved for attention and intimacy, and Soobin made her aware of that.

The sooner she got a grip of herself, the better.

That’s why she was there, pretending nothing had happened.

The second contact after the events of the other night was slightly better.

Soobin texted her saying he’d game with the boys, and asked if she wanted to join. Twenty minutes later, Y/N was lying on his bed, reading, while he played.

“What are we having for dinner?”

He looked over his shoulder. “I’ve no idea. What do you suggest?” He frowned. “No, not you. I’m talking to Y/N.” Soobin murmured to his headset. “Yeah, she’s here.”

Sitting on his bed, she stared at his computer screen as if he was on a videocall. “Who is it?”

“Hyuck says hi, Yeonjun is apologising for ignoring you on your chat.”

“I see.” She smiled. “Tell him I’m never talking to him again, and tell Hyuck I said hi back.”

“She’s not talking to you ever again, dude. And she said hi, Donghyuck.”

“Anyway, I’m thinking hot pot thoughts… Or sweet and sour pork.” Y/N suggested.

“Why not both?” He chuckled, listening to his friends on the call. “Yeonjun said you can’t spend more than thirty minutes ignoring him, so he’s not feeling exactly threatened.”

She sucked a breath, pretending to be offended. Crawling to the end of the bed, behind his chair, she turned him around and tugged at the headset, bringing the microphone closer to her mouth. “Is this a challenge, Yeonjun? Because I’d love to prove you wrong!”

“Wow, she said ‘Yeonjun’!” Beomgyu hollered, and she could hear his voice from his room.

“I’d feel pretty much threatened right now, bro.” Soobin stared at her, taking in the small distance between them. Their noses were centimetres away, breaths fanning over each other. His eyelids dropped as he tilted his head just a bit, unconsciously giving into her magnetic field.

As if electrified, Y/N stepped back. “B-both, then.” She cleared her throat. “Gonna order it.”

The third time, she met him at the entrance hall, after coming back from the gym. He was getting out of the lift and she was entering it – they collided, her sweaty head bumping into his chest.

“Fuck, sorry.” Y/N petted the moist spot, as if it’d disappear.

“Morning.” He smiled. “It’s ok, it’ll dry in no time.”

“Are you going to work?”

“Nah, going to grab something for breakfast… Wanna join me?”

Y/N wanted to melt on the floor, glad for the atmosphere between them not being awkward anymore. “Of course, if you don’t mind the stink.”

“I don’t.” He took her hand. “Morning.”

It was her time to grin, intertwining their fingers. “Morning, Binbin.”

The first tray of brownies was just out of the oven when Beomgyu walked into the kitchen.

“Am I going to have to eat all of it?” He pointed at the hot tray.

“Uh… No?”

“Why are you freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“Dude, it’s been a week since you went back on your cooking therapy.”

Yeah, and it’d been a little over a week since he kissed Y/N.

It’d been over a week since they seemed to go back and forth on walking in eggshells. And he knew she was having some kind of mental breakdown due to that, ‘cause was he too.

Not that kissing her wasn’t riveting. It had been a while since he kissed a girl, and his body just reacted to that. He was intrigued by his own response. However, he was already regretting giving in to her schemes… Because he could foresee the imminent rupture in their friendship, could taste the awkwardness that was settling between them.

And yeah, maybe Beomgyu was right – he was freaking out.

He was panicking at the mere thought of losing his best friend.

“I just enjoy cooking, what is wrong with that?” Soobin knew he sounded defensive, but he wasn’t able to come up with a better rebut.

“Ok, keep telling yourself that.” Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Is Y/N coming down? ‘Cause I’m coming up, Mimi and I will go to the arcade tonight.”

“Why would she come down?”

“Well, aren’t you guys working on getting her into Hyuck’s pants?”

Soobin froze. “What the f…”

“You really thought you two could keep this a secret from everyone?”

“N-no, but… You could use nicer words.”

Beomgyu tilted his head, pouting. “Aren’t you guys trying to turn her into a Sex Goddess?”

“Oh God, why do I even bother?!” Soobin shook his head, glaring at the ceiling for a brief second.

“I don’t know, either.” He chuckled. “Is she coming or not?”

“No.”

“Give her a piece, at least. I’m gonna get fat at this rate!” Turning around, he waved. “See ya. I’ll probably sleep upstairs, so don’t wait for me.”

Sighing, Soobin waved back. “Alright; have fun. Bye!”

He stared at the oven for a solid minute, contemplating what to do.

Whenever he had an opportunity, he’d mention Y/N to Hyuck. Things like how funny and pretty she was, something cute she did, a tender memory he had of her… And all those times, Hyuck listened with regard. But what use would that be if she still felt insecure?! That’s why he got a grip of himself and opened their chat – they should have another lesson.

[18:43] soobin: r u busy?

Almost a minute later, she replied.

[18:44] y/n: no… why?

[18:44] soobin: i baked two trays of brownie 🥺

[18:44] y/n: choi soobin

u r literally the best thing that has ever happened to me!!!!!

see u in a second

[18:45] soobin: 😋

It was pathetic that she took some time to get ready. Normally, Y/N wouldn’t even bother changing her clothes… However, she decided to drop her old and comfy nightgown for her brand-new pyjama set, an emerald-green satin shorts and button-down shirt. It was one of her favourite colours and Soobin used to say it looked really good on her.

Cringing at the perspective of fishing for compliments, Y/N pinched her cheeks and cleared her throat, walking out of the elevator as if each step didn’t make her confused mind a bigger chaos. Typing the password, she was greeted by the delicious smell of brownies. Heading to the kitchen, she took a second to prepare herself to face him again.

“Binbin?”

He turned around from the sink, opening one of his marvellous smiles. “Hi there.”

“So… Am I getting a whole tray for myself, or will I have to share with Beomgyu?”

“A whole tray for yourself… If you help me out here.” Soobin chuckled.

“Maybe sharing isn’t that bad?” She jested. “It keeps me humble.”

“Humbleness doesn’t suit you, Y/N. You’re made to look down on us, mere mortals.”

“That’s so sweet of you.” She pretended to dry her eyes, grabbing the kitchen towel.

“The only person you think is actually above yourself is Yeonjun, and don’t even try to tell me I’m wrong.” He nudged her with his elbow. “I know you better than I know myself.”

Y/N felt her stomach dropping.

Did he?

Was it possible he knew that whenever those dimples came out, she felt… The impulse again?

And because she was so confused with her own reactions, she decided to bring up the safer topic.

“Donghyuck asked me about the leather workshop class we took, he said he liked your wallet and you told him we went there and did it together.”

“I’m trying to bring you up in any opportunity I get.” Soobin agreed. “And what else happened?”

“Nothing much, we chatted a bit about it and then he said he’d try to book a class.” She sighed. “He didn’t ask for my number, Bin. It was the perfect excuse for it! Or he could’ve just said ‘Do you want to join me on it, again?’” She pouted. “I couldn’t find him on Tinder either!”

“I know it’s frustrating, but… Maybe we’re approaching this the wrong way?!” Finishing washing the last dirty dish, Soobin looked at her. “We need a party.” He declared. “Hyuck likes them, and if he sees you in a different light, with a different mood altogether, I’m sure he’ll get hooked.” By the way she hesitated, he knew exactly what was going on. “You’re insecure about it, aren’t you?”

“What if I mess it up?”

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Y/N stared at him, conflicted between playing it cool or being honest. They were best friends, for fuck sakes! She trusted him and he trusted her back – and getting him to help her was their main purpose, as he had pointed out.

“What do you have in mind, then?” She sounded so vulnerable Soobin’s heart melted.

But before he could say anything else, he needed to get some things straight. He wouldn’t survive going another week with that weird and distant vibe between them. This next lesson would be different from any other, and he needed to know she was ready to go through it.

That their friendship was ready to take the blow and don’t die from it.

“What did you feel when I kissed you?”

She froze. “I beg your pardon?”

“That day when we went on a date… When I kissed you like Donghyuck would, what did you feel after?” His eyes searched for hers, but she shied away, staring at the towel on her hand.

“I… Well… I noticed that I’m really desperate.” Y/N cleared her throat, hating the way she felt so small and embarrassed at her own neediness.

“Desperate for what?”

“Intimacy. Anything a man can give me.” The words came out rushed. “And it’s so annoying.”

He frowned at her confession. He expected her to say something along the lines like ‘desperate for Donghyuck’, but she didn’t. “Why is it annoying, though? It’s normal to want to be wanted.”

“Yes, I know, but… I feel like I missed my timing. It’s weird to never have dated at my age; and what if Donghyuck thinks there’s something wrong with me?!”

“Only stupid men think stuff like these, Y/N. Normal and nice boys know everyone has their own time to blossom and don’t rush nor judge others.”

She looked up, finding him already staring at her. His soft boba eyes shone with tenderness and resolve, as if what he said was the absolutely truth.

“You’re really a different brand of man, Choi Soobin.” She gave him a small smile. “And really one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”

“You flatter me.” He chuckled. “But I asked that because I think the best way for you to feel more confident is knowing that you can entice even when being ‘inexperienced’. ‘Cause, honestly, I didn’t even remember you hadn’t kissed a man in ages when we were kissing.” He confessed. “It just downed me later on, because things were awkward between us, and I got pissed off that we let it come to that and you didn’t tell me how you felt. I don’t like us distant.”

“Me neither.” She sighed.

“So let’s promise we won’t be like that again, or else I can’t help you.”

Y/N bit her lip, hesitating again. “But what if I can’t…”

“Then we’ll end everything.” He cut her off. “I don’t read minds, Y/N. If you don’t tell me what’s bothering you, how can I be of help?!”

“Alright. I’ll try.”

“No, darling, you’ll do it.” He shook his head. “I’m not letting our friendship on thin ice anymore.”

“Oh, ok, Bin! I’ll do it.” Rolling her eyes, she stuck her pinkie up.

“Good girl.” Their fingers touched. “So no more awkwardness no matter what we do.”

“And if one feels uneasy, we got to be vocal about it.”

His eyes darkened slightly, wondering (without his own permission) about what else Y/N would be vocal about. Clearing his throat, he pointed to the brownies. “Fancy some before we move on?”

“Yeah, it’ll be good to ease me up.”

“I wanted to put caramel in, but you complained about eating too much candy recently and I know how you love caramel, so I decided to make it plain, so you won’t feel sad if you don’t eat much.”

She smiled, touched by the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Here, take a bite.” He offered a piece.

It wasn’t something unusual, they normally did this… However, this time her eyes spent a little longer analysing his hand – the pretty and veiny forearm, how the brownie looked so small compared to his palm, how close his fingertips were from her mouth… And suddenly, she could see herself in one of those luxury porn movies, where any minor action was made to entice – so, instead of taking a bite, she’d lick on his digits, sucking them as if…

Y/N almost stuffed the whole piece in her mouth, hoping its taste would erase such confusing and horrible thoughts. God, what she needed was professional help!

Soobin had a fond smile, always glad that she liked his food. “Easy there, love. You’ll get a whole batch for yourself.” Some crumbles stuck to her face, gathering on her lower lip and at the side of her mouth while she chewed. “Do you like it that much?! You got dirt all over.”

Y/N remained quiet while he dusted the crumbles off. She felt like melting under his touch and gaze, goosebumps blooming from her spine to her head. The brownie tasted good, obviously, but the sensations didn’t come from its flavour or perfectly gooey texture… Out of habit, he licked the tip of his fingers clean, and that’s when she noticed she’d been too silent.

“Sorry, you know I like sweets.”

“It’s ok. Having you acting like this strokes my ego.” The dimples showed up again as he grinned.

Her heart thumped heavily against her chest, and whatever sane thoughts she had, slipped off her mind when she got on her tiptoes and ended the distance between them.

She kissed him.

She was still kissing him.

And when his arm circled her waist, pulling her up against the kitchen counter, she wished she’d never stop kissing him at all. The hand on her face slid to her nape, fingers threading in her hair and tugging it slightly, pushing her chin up so they could change the angle. As they got closer, his hips came in between her legs, the arm around her waist slipped a bit under her pyjama shirt, and the feeling of his skin against hers was overwhelming.

It was also embarrassing, honestly.

They were still dressed, but she felt so warm, so desperate for more contact, more action…

Then, as if reading her mind, Soobin bit her lower lip while pressing his crotch against hers. That earned him a bittersweet response: she froze, hands gripping his shoulders and eyes widening.

“What happened?” He asked, mouth still on her.

“I-If we keep… We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“But isn’t stuff like this the reason you need my help?”

He was right, of course.

“I’m not sure how to… What should I…?”

“Maybe you could circle me with your legs?” He suggested. “If I was Donghyuck, what would do?”

She gulped, musing. “I’d probably jump his bones.”

“Then jump mine.” He stated. “Pretend I’m him.”

Her eyes clouded, conflicted between obeying or trying to resist. “Here? At the kitchen?”

“We’re alone, relax.” At her intake of breath, he chuckled. “Try to, at least.”

“But won’t it be too uncomfortable?”

His grin grew bigger. “Y/N, you think too much.” He pecked her lips. “Stop thinking, just… Just feel.” His mouth touched her jawline, and she immediately closed her eyes. Soobin nibbled on her skin, leaving love bites on the column of her neck. It was impulsive, not really him wanting to mark his territory, but just… Him reacting to the moment. He quietly undid some buttons of her shirt, but before pushing it off, he needed to know if it was still ok. “Are you ok?”

Y/N was half in heaven, half in hell. “Yes… It’s so warm in here, isn’t it?”

“So can I take this off?” He touched the last button.

“Yes.” Their eyes met, and she hoped he could see the trust in hers.

Tossing the satin on the floor, Soobin’s attention flew to her chest. She was wearing one of her cotton bras, black and plain, but somehow… “You look so pretty in green, but now I realise you look better in black.” He murmured, kissing her cleavage. Her head fell back, a sharp breath that sounded more like a strangled moan coming out of her mouth. Her legs tightened around his body, silently telling him he was doing it right. “Shall I take this off too?” He traced the straps.

“Please.”

It’s been ages since a man had seen her naked, but somehow, the fact that it was Soobin put her at ease. Yes, she might’ve been feeling insecure, however, as they kissed, her neediness surpassed every other emotion… And it was Soobin, for fuck sakes! He was her best friend!

He unfastened her bra and let it loose. Discarding it too, he noticed his mouth watered a bit at the sight of her perk nipples – it was only natural that his big hands groped her boobs, slender and skilled fingers pinching the skin before he dipped his head down, taking one in his mouth.

The moan came out loud and clear, Y/N’s body jolting forward at the sensation. She felt his wet tongue around the beak, licking and sucking on it, his warm touch engulfing her from her waist to her ribs, then to her shoulders, fingertips burning figures everywhere they reached. And it was too much. Pulling at his hair, she brought their lips together once again, needing him, desperate for him. Her hips pressed strongly against his, humping him.

“Bin,” The nickname rolled out with ease, despite the fact she was supposed to imagine Donghyuck there. “Bin, I need more.” Her voice was muffled by open-mouthed kisses. “Please. More.”

And because he was such a gentleman, he couldn’t say no.

He actually didn’t want to.

“More of what? You gotta use your words, love. I want to help you, but I don’t know how.” He lied, touching her boobs again, loving how they felt under his palms.

“Fuck.” She kissed his jawline, legs so tight around his hips that he couldn’t escape her grip. “If we keep doing this, I’ll probably cum.” She tried to reason.

“Do you want to?”

“Desperately.”

His smirk was out of this world. He had that easy, roguish kind of smile, and Y/N felt her insides twirling at the sight. “How?” Although he was supposed to guide her in this, he wanted so bad to hear her desires. Soobin was sure he’d do anything she wanted as long as she kept that flushed expression and cute moans coming out. “Tell me how.” It was almost a plea.

“I-I’m not…” Well, he really was there to help her, so she shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for what she wanted. “I need your fingers.”

His breath hitched slightly, ears buzzing with every word echoing in his mind.

“My fingers? Where, love?” He knew he wasn’t pushing her too far. If she only could step outside her comfort zone a centimetre more…

And when she reached for him, taking one of his hands and sliding it down her belly towards her pussy, Soobin hoped he wouldn’t forget a second of that dizzy, surprising night.

“Here.” Her voice was breathy, laced with wanton and shyness. “Inside me.”

Oh, fuck.

Kissing her again, he rubbed her thighs, prying them open and unlocking them off his waist. He kept his touch pretty close to her crotch, but never coming too close to where she wanted.

“I’ll take off your shorts now, ok?”

She shivered slightly while he rolled the green satin off her hips. When the fabric was discarded, he analysed her, taking in every inch of exposed skin, and Soobin licked his lips, anticipating.

“No panties?”

“I only use them with pyjamas when I’m on my period.” She confessed.

His eyes widened, realisation kicking in. “So whenever we slept together, you were…”

“Pantie-less.” She agreed, blush intensifying.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, dick twitching at the thought. “So cheeky.”

“It’s healthy to let it breath!” She pouted, defensive.

“I’m not judging, though.” Soobin stole a peck. “I’m just surprised because I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“Now I do, yeah.”

Their eyes met, and he couldn’t describe what he saw in hers. However, it was enough to make him react hungrily, latching his mouth on hers once more, a hand slipping between their bodies, resting right on her pretty cunt. She moaned into the kiss as soon as his fingers caressed her, pads gathering some slick before finding purchase on her clit.

It was rather embarrassing, but just the feeling of him there was enough to make her cum.

She felt so overwhelmed and horny she was sure if she stood up, a puddle would be where she sat, but the way Soobin worked her up was so good, she couldn’t help herself. And it’d been so long…

It was impossible to keep her focus, the pleasure so foreign and delicious – thus, she just rested her forehead against his, locking their eyes and basking in those amazing sensations. His hand drove slightly down again, coating in her wetness before plugging a finger inside her without warning. Her breath hitched, lips parting for a whiny moan to escape. His brown orbs, once gentle and patient, now ogled her with hunger and desire. He moved, testing the speed until he got a loud sob from her, hips bucking slightly as he drove in and off.

“Fuck.” She whispered when he quickly pushed a second digit inside her.

“Tell me how you like it,” Soobin ordered. “how to make you cum.”

“Anything,” Y/N closed her eyes, wondering if it would be ultimate humiliation if she drooled any time soon. “anything you do, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

“You’ve got no idea of what I…” He stopped, deciding she wasn’t ready for those words yet.

She gulped as he picked his pace. “Fuck, this feels so good!”

“Look at me.” His dominating aura was new to her.

She stared at those chestnut pools, darkened with a pinch of wildness, curiosity and lust. She’d never seen him like that, demanding, serious but at ease with himself, full of confidence and… So fucking hot. There was also the situation they were in, the unexpectedness of enjoying his touch, the thrill of doing something they probably shouldn’t be doing, the happiness of finally having a man’s attention for her own – she couldn’t control herself, clenching around his fingers.

“Shit,” Y/N threw her head backwards, back arching. “I’m gonna cum?”

“Is this a question?” He chuckled, amused.

“I’m not sure?” Her brows furrowed. “I’m almost…” He inserted a third digit. “There.”

“Already?” His dimples accompanied his smirk, and her heart beat faster. “So desperate, Y/N. You look gorgeous like this.” He cooed. “Keep looking at me and cum, then.”

Obeying was easy. Y/N was so out of herself with wanton it didn’t take more than a minute for her to explode around his fingers, moaning quietly and leaving small scratches on his nape and shoulders. Soobin peppered her neck with love bites while she rode her high, relishing the way she shook on his arms and snugged him close.

She tugged at his hair after calming down, pushing his chin up and getting nose to nose. It could be the post-orgasm haze, but she had the urge to say some crazy and cheesy things. Instead, she bit her lips, wondering what she should do next.

“Do I… S-should… Can I… Can I suck you off?”

And because she sounded vulnerable, he pushed past his own needs and tried to make her feel safe again. “I don’t know. Can you?” His eyes shone with mirth, the joke outdated and a bit annoying.

Her mouth tugged in a small smile. “May I?”

He wanted nothing more, but it seemed too much for her in one day, so he shook his head. “No, love. I think it’s best we go slow.”

“W-wait, why?!” She looked disappointed. “Don’t you… Want me to?”

“I do, love, I really do. But this is not about me.” He sighed. “This is about showing you that you can seduce any guy you want, doesn’t matter if you think yourself unexperienced or not… And judging by my pants now, I’m sure we can say you passed the lesson.”

Mentioning his pants wasn’t his best idea, because her eyes fell to his sweatpants and lingered there, glossy, hungry. He felt something clench around him and realised his fingers were still inside her. Blushing a bit, Soobin took them off, musing if it would be too extreme to lick them. However, he was trying to avoid getting hornier, so maybe…

Before he could react, the oven beeped, warning them that the last tray of brownies was done.

If one year early someone told her she’d dream about her best friend’s dick, Y/N would die of laughter. Now, sweaty and frustrated, she woke up for the second time in two days ten minutes before her alarm set off… Thanks to a wet dream.

With Choi Soobin.

It was upsetting, really. She couldn’t stop thinking about it – couldn’t stop wishing he had let her help him too. Because his kisses and his fingers had made her feel so good, so it was only natural to want to return the kindness… Although, a tiny bit of her was thankful he set boundaries, for she wasn’t sure she could handle what would’ve happened. The way he said she left him with a hard on was enough to make her mouth dry, heart skipping a beat in some sort of… Elation. She felt proud, desired… Feminine. And it had been ages since she last felt such emotions.

It was dangerous.

Choi Soobin was dangerous, and she should thread him carefully.

She went to the gym, wasting her energy on the weights and cardio. Maybe if she got too tired, her body would finally let go of that ridiculous desperation towards her best friend. The mere thought of having his hands on her again, of having her hands on him too… She almost tripped on her feet while leaving the gym. Chuckling at her own embarrassment, she started walking back home.

Then, her phone chimed with a notification.

Breathing slowly, Y/N unblocked it.

[08:12]  🖤 💓 darling dearest 💓 🖤: good morning, darling

wanna grab breakfast?

im near ur house

[o8:12] y/n: good morning, my better half

i literally just left the gym dskflfksdkljsd

and im FAMISHED

as always, u read my mind

[08:12]  🖤 💓 darling dearest 💓 🖤: meet u at that bakery around the corner?

[o8:12] y/n: sureeee

With a satisfied smile, she was glad for finally spending quality time with Yeonjun. Since the whole ‘Trying to date Donghyuck’ thing, Y/N kind of prioritised Soobin’s company…

Now, she had a chance to be herself again.

The bakery they usually went when Yeonjun was with her was quite empty when she arrived. Getting a table near the big windows, she discarded her jacked and sat down, relaxing. Checking her e-mails, she quickly answered two urgent ones – which meant she could come to work a bit late, ‘cause her online meeting at 10am was cancelled.  

Soon, arms circled her neck and she heard the smack on the top of her head.

“Hello, darling.”

“Hello, dearest.” Y/N grinned. “Don’t kiss me when I’m sweaty, it’s gross!”

“I don’t mind it.” He chuckled, sitting in front of her. “Did you order something already?”

“Nah, I was waiting for you. What do you want?”

“Hmm… Coffee and something sweet. You?”

“Tea and something sweet.” She winked. “I’ll need scrambled eggs, though.”

“Milk tea?”

“You know me too well.”

However, instead of smiling back at her, Yeonjun frowned. “What’s this?” He pointed to the side of her neck, then down her collarbones that showed up a bit on her gym clothes.

“What?” Y/N tried to see what grabbed his attention.

“Is… It’s a fucking hickey?!” His mouth opened in pure shock, then stretched in a wide smirk. “Well, darling, you’re keeping secrets now?”

“N-no! It’s not like that!” She shushed him, flushing. “This is nothing.”

“Oh, really? Because all these years we’ve known each other, it’s the first time I’ve seen you with a hickey, so pardon me for not eating up your bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Soobin told me already.”

“Of course he did.” Y/N gritted her teeth.

“I mean, everyone kinda know there’s something going on. You guys aren’t exactly subtle.” Yeonjun chuckled, moving over the table to pinch her cheek. “Cuties.”

“There’s nothing going on! He’s just helping me out with…” Under his soft gaze, she hesitated.

“Is it still that excuse?”

God, she loved Yeonjun with all her heart, but sometimes… Sometimes he just really pissed her off. It was a rare occurrence, but when it happened, Y/N wanted to punch him right in the face.

“What excuse? He’s really helping me with Donghyuck.”

“I see.”

“You don’t believe me.” She pouted.

“I literally said ‘I see’!”

“You used your condescending tone.”

“It’s just because I don’t understand how him giving you hickies is gonna help with Hyuck, but don’t mind me.” He raised his hands in surrender. “So, how’s the conquest going?”

“Uh… Good. I mean, kinda good. We’re gonna try a new approach in a different ambient.” She sighed, not sure if she could voice out what happened two nights ago. “In a party, to be precise.”

“Oh, and why’s that? No, wait, let me order our food and you tell me everything.”

She smiled tenderly at him, the annoyance vanishing quickly. “I love you, you know that, right?”

“I do.” He chuckled, standing up. “As you should.”

“Prick.”

“I love you too, my favourite drama queen.”

“Milk tea and the fudgiest chocolate muffin, please. Don’t forget the scrambled eggs!”

“Noted. I’ll be back in a second.”

Y/N stared at the street, trying not to let Yeonjun’s words worsen her confusion.

Working as a translator gave Y/N the advantage of flexible hours and working from home. What once felt like a benefit, now didn’t. She went about half a chapter before giving up. There was no use, her head just wouldn’t focus enough.

Opening the group chat with only her girl friends, she invited everyone for dinner. She needed some time away from Soobin, and needed some purely feminine company.

It was past eight when Felicia arrived. She was the last one, so they could finally declare that the night officially started – good wine, a huge charcuterie board, cheese and chocolate fondue… And…

Well, Soobin’s brownies.

Y/N made sure not to linger on that thought, not to let the memory of how she got them cloud her senses (again), because it went against the mood she had planned for the night.

And it would’ve worked if said boy could read her mind. Unfortunately, he couldn’t – for her phone vibrated and indicated a text message from him.

[21:12] binbin🐰: so u had breakfast with yeonjun…….

AND invited the girls over WITHOUT us

(gyu and i)

[21:12] y/n: yeah, i did. why?

[21:12] binbin🐰: why do u hate me? 🥺

(us*, gyu is also pouty)

[21:12] y/n: where does this come from????

r u unwell?????

[21:12] binbin🐰: u havent talked to me the whole day

cant i miss my best friend?

[21:12] y/n: ofc u can

but u r never clingy

so i got concerned

[21:12] binbin🐰: well, im clingy now

[21:13] y/n: oh

[21:13] binbin🐰: yeah

[21:13] y/n: id invite u but tonight’s strictly girls night

[21:13] binbin🐰: come over later

[21:13] y/n: cant

[21:13] binbin🐰: 😨

why??????

[21:13] y/n: idk when they’ll leave

[21:13] binbin🐰: idc

come anyway

She blocked her phone, feeling her stomach tightening.

“Well, that’s… Sweet, I guess?” Mimi murmured, staring at her.

“Were you reading everything?!”

“I couldn’t help but read.”

Y/N opened her mouth, torn between being offended or asking Mimi what ‘sweet’ actually meant. Obviously, seeing Soobin that night wasn’t a smart move.

“So, how’s the ‘Donghyuck’s Annihilation’ going?” Felicia questioned, bringing her back to reality.

“What kind of title is this?” She giggled.

“It’s more dramatic, which suits you.” Fel shrugged. “So…?”

“How’s ‘Soobin’s classes’ going, you mean.” Haena quipped.

“I’ll let you know Donghyuck and I sometimes talk to each other through DM’s, and I’ve been more comfortable around him, so it’s going pretty well.” Y/N cleared her throat, feigning indifference.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Felicia smiled. “Feeling comfortable around him is important.”

“Soobin thinks we should meet at a party, ‘cause the change of atmosphere might be good and might make Hyuck look at me differently.”

“Hmm… Makes sense.” Haena agreed. “But what about your shyness? Would you be ok with kissing him and even sleeping together?”

A quick flashback of what happened at Soobin’s kitchen made Y/N blush, but she played it cool. “Yeah, I think I’d be fine. Maybe I’d pass out from nervousness, but I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Haena stared at her for a second or two, sipping her wine. “Then I’m glad you decided not to listen to us and pursue your crazy plan with Soobin’s help.”

“Can we stop talking about this? Yeonjun also interrogated me today and I really wanted to have a night-off.” Y/N pouted. “Why don’t you girls talk about your love lives, for a change?”

“The biggest change here is you getting out of your shell, but ok.” Felicia pointed out, grinning.

“Ya’ll not ready for my girlfriend era.” She chuckled.

Matter of fact, Y/N wasn’t exactly ready for that herself.

Around midnight, she finally laid down, skincare routine done and warm bedsheets. Plugging her phone on the charger, she sighed and opened her chats. It was a new day, so she didn’t need to pretend not to think about Soobin and Donghyuck again.

[00:09] y/n: asleep?

It took her some minutes to get a reply.

[00:12] binbin🐰: im not talking to u

[00:12] y/n: why’s that?

[00:12] binbin🐰: u didnt come

[00:12] y/n: the girls left and i had to clean up the mess

[00:12] binbin🐰: u can come now then 😤

She pondered for a second, but the alcohol made her reckless – or she wanted to believe so.

[00:12] y/n: can i, sir?

how?

Soobin typed and erased a few times before replying.

[00:14] binbin🐰: ???

what the fuck do u mean

r we talking abt the same thing???

[00:14] y/n: probably not

[00:14] binbin🐰: im talking abt u coming downstairs

[00:14] y/n: im talking abt what happened the other night

Another pause.

[00:16] binbin🐰: y/n

[00:16] y/n: soobin

[00:16] binbin🐰: lets keep this convo PG

[00:16] y/n: i dont want to

[00:16] binbin🐰: why not?

[00:16] y/n: ‘cause im slightly tipsy and super frustrated and angry

u didnt let me suck u off and now im one step behind

what if hyuck wants me to suck him off?????

[00:16] binbin🐰: then u suck him off

[00:16] y/n: what if im not good at it?

[00:16] binbin🐰: bullshit

[00:16] y/n: how do u know

[00:17] binbin🐰: i just do

[00:17] y/n: how

[00:17] binbin🐰: u gonna have to trust me in this

[00:17] y/n: nope 😌

[00:17] binbin🐰: would i ever lie to u? no

so stop worrying and go to sleep

[00:17] y/n: im not worrying

im frustrated and angry

ill spend the whole night watching blowjob videos and taking tips

bc u didnt help me like u promised!!!!!

She was sure she crossed a line that wasn’t supposed to be crossed, but it was too late.

[00:18] binbin🐰: stop being a brat for once in ur life

i mean it

[00:18] y/n:  😌 nope 😌

The vibration caught her by surprise. ‘Binbin’ lighted up her screen like some kind of hypnosis.

“Don’t.” His voice cut the silence.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t watch porn, it’s not helpful at all.”

“It might be more helpful than you at the moment.”

He sucked in a breath the same way he did whenever Beomgyu got on his nerves. “How much did you drink? You’re not easily intoxicated, so stop with the attitude.”

“I drank enough to be bold and ask for it… Again.”

There was a tiny silence, then a sigh. “Tomorrow. When you’re fully sober.”

Tomorrow, it was.

When Y/N entered Soobin’s apartment the next night, she brought hot chocolate for them. An apology gift, if she was being honest, for bothering him with her needy rampage. Not that the ashamed feeling was enough to keep her dirty mind at bay.

Nonetheless, it was easier to pretend she was there to learn how to play Overwatch than to learn how to suck dick. Donghyuck wasn’t a League of Legends guy like Soobin, however, Y/N had no interest neither in one game nor the other – she only needed to know the basics so she could try to strike conversation and maybe actually join them in one of their gaming meetings.

Sitting at the chair beside his one, she listened to him explain about the history and purpose of the game. It was always endearing to witness how talkative he became whenever he talked about the things he liked, and so she couldn’t help but fondly let him go on with the monologue.

Some time later, they started playing, but Soobin was too close, his long fingers typing the controls with ease while his attention was glued to the screen. Y/N told herself she was only looking at his hand because it was necessary. She didn’t have any other thoughts on her mind but learning the commands. She didn’t care how good those slender fingers felt inside her.

She couldn’t possibly care less that they curled just right and reached her spot with as much ease as they typed the keyboard. She obviously didn’t mind the fact they weren’t inside her right now.

“Stop! You’re trying to distract me!” Y/N groaned.

“I’m literally playing for you.” He quipped. “How is this…”

“You keep moving in a quick pace, knowing I get distracted easily. I can’t focus!”

Soobin frowned, trying to understand her mood swing. “It’s not my fault we have to be fast!”

“Still.” She pouted, chin up.

In those days following their new agreement, Soobin learnt something about Y/n: she had quite a temper when horny – as if it offended her that she felt any type of emotion, something similar to the way she behaved whenever she was fighting back tears.

And her flushed cheeks could also mean anger, of course. It would make sense. However, her glossy eyes and dry mouth had nothing to do with anger.

How could he be so sure?

Because he felt as restless as her. The moment she showed up in a black satin pyjama set, he realised his mistake. Now he knew that she was pantie-less, and now he also knew what she looked like without any piece of clothing on.

And now he wanted to see her again.

“Why are you so antsy?”

“I’m not!” Her pout grew bigger and he couldn’t help but grin. “Why are you smiling?”

“You’re cute.” He chuckled. “Come, try it instead.” Putting his hands over hers, he guided the mouse through her. “Press this for shooting.” He indicated once again, moving his finger over hers. “Like this. Good.” His voice dropped an octave. “Focus, love.”

He felt the shivers on her skin, and desire shot through him too.

“H-How do I enter there?” Y/N gulped as he pushed some hair off her shoulder.

“Use the mouse.” But instead of moving with her, he let go, lightly tracing her arm from the wrist to her elbow. “Atta girl.”

Fuck.

Any resolve of focusing vanished after those two words. Y/N felt her stomach tightening, heart picking up a beat. “What now?”

The proximity was tempting, and Soobin found himself giving in.

“While gaming… Things can get freaky.” His voice was low and raspy, enticing. “And people can get creative, you know? Maybe cockwarming, just to spice things up. Or a blowjob…”

Was it supposed to make her mouth water like that?

“Would you ask me to?”

Soobin held the impulse of correcting her, of reminding her this wasn’t about him, but Donghyuck. However, since he was the teacher, he told himself it made sense. “Do you want me to?”

Her chest rose with a deep intake of breath, as she tried to find her own voice. “Yes.” His lips found the column of her neck, leaving love bites all over. Y/N moaned, tightening her hold on the mouse. “Bin, I can’t concentrate.”

“Shall we move it to the bed?”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Leaping from her chair, she found some comfort in the mattress. Soobin chuckled, closing the game and following her. Matching her eagerness, he kissed her in an urgent pace, trying to placate whatever hunger grew within him recently – whenever he had his hands on Y/N, to be more precise.

It didn’t take much for their bodies to intertwine. Hips against hips, they moved in synch, chasing some kind of relief. Touching her under the pyjama shirt, he scratched from her lower back to her waist, then rested on her boobs, cupping them.

His touches and the friction made her belly tug, her panting growing more erratic by each second. “Bin, Bin, wait. Wait.” She tried to stop, but her body had a life of its own. “I shouldn’t…”

“What?” Pinching a nipple, he relished on her breathy moan.

“Oh, please, don’t.” Her hands came to his shoulders, ready to push him off, but instead they just clawed against his t-shirt. “I’m supposed to be giving you a blowjob, not humping you like a needy teenage girl.” But it was so good. So, so good. “I can’t come now.”

“What if I want you to?”

Yes. “No, please.” Y/N groaned, the words escaping without control. “If I don’t have your dick in my mouth any time soon, I might honestly go berserk.”

“That bad?” He couldn’t help but chuckle, a small smirk gracing his face.

“That bad.” She agreed. “You don’t understand, I thought about it since…” Well, fuck, she was already in too deep, so she better make the best of it. “Ever since the kitchen episode.”

God, she made it hard for him to resist. “Really?”

“I even had wet dreams about it.” Y/N stole a peck. “Twice.” Another one. “So, you see, this is quite serious. I’ve been frustrated and horny… And now I’m so wet and bothered I might cry if I don’t get to suck you in less than two minutes!” She wasn’t lying, for her eyes turned glossy.

Donghyuck was going to be a fucking lucky bastard.

“Hey, no.” He held her cheek tenderly, pecking her lips too. “No need to cry, I’ll give it to you.”

“Now?”

“Now.” Soobin stole one last kiss. “On your knees for me, love.”

Y/N admitted she never loved such words as much as she did then.

Getting between his legs, she pushed his t-shirt up until his belly button. The outline of his underwear showed, and her mouth watered. Leaning down, she peppered feather kisses on the skin above it, feeling his abs hardening. It made a rush of power and satisfaction wash through her, elated for getting him that way. Tugging at the hem of his trousers, she pushed them down, bringing the underwear too – and she gulped at the sight.

Well…

Oh.

Well, God help her, for that man was handsome in every angle.

His dick sprung free, big, rosy, hard and veiny. And she didn’t waste any more time, welcoming him inside with a smooth, swift move.

Full on her mouth, heavy on her tongue, salty on her taste buds, Choi Soobin was perfect. Y/N wasn’t sure what made her wetter: finally sucking him off, or the way his head was bent backwards, throat exposed as his Adam’s apple bobbed with the moan he let out.

“Fuck, love, it’s so warm.” He rasped. “I’ll tug at your hair now, ok? So I can set a pace. Or do you want to do this alone?” He looked down and she shrugged, quite unsure of what to choose. “Let’s do it together, then. I want you to feel comfortable too.” Threading his fingers on her hair, Soobin pushed her head down a bit. “Open up a bit more, love, let me go deeper.” She obeyed. “Like that, yeah.” He closed his eyes for a second, relishing on the feeling. “Are you alright?” Y/N tried to answer, a muffled ‘mhm’ coming out instead of a ‘yes’. “Good. Do you think you can handle a bit of gagging? If I thrust and it hits your throat, will it be ok?”

He was so gentle with her, it was really sweet… But Y/N didn’t mind roughness. Replacing her lips with her hands, she swallowed a bit of drool. “We can try.”

“Tap my thighs if you feel any discomfort.”

“Don’t mind me, just let me make you cum.”

She lazily sucked his tip, jerking him off as she pondered the best way to take all of him. Relaxing her jaw, she let go with a ‘pop’ and took a deep breath before fully sucking him again. The grip on her hair tightened, forcing her head down with more strength than before. His dick slid easily, as if her mouth was made for him, welcoming his length.

“Fuck, love.” He groaned, borderline insane. “Fuck. Keep going.” Each time she bobbed up and down, she took a bit more of him until the gag came. Tears burned her orbs and her throat closed, making her cough loudly. “You good?”

“Good.” Y/N agreed. “Let me try again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Guide me.”

He moved forward, crowding over her and holding her jaw. “Breathe through your nose and hold it each time you sink. It helps.” He caressed her lower lip. “Here, try with my fingers.” She opened, feeling his thumb first, sucking on it slightly. Then, he took it off and gave her his index, so he could go further. His digit was slender, bony, but she felt the gag anyway. “Don’t breathe as you go down, love. Right, take it easy.” Y/N obeyed, holding her breath. “Like this, yes, perfect.” She reached for his dick again, mimicking what she was doing on his finger. “Fuck.” He let out an amused laugh, raspy and short. “Can I add one more?”

She shook her head, welcoming another one. It was honestly easier that way, but at each stroke of her wrist, she grew restless – she wanted to taste him again, wanted to hear his grunts, and see the way he looked like when he came. So, instead of waiting for him to tell her what to do next, Y/N pushed his hand away and focused on his cock. Soobin remained quiet, letting her do whatever she wanted. She gathered some saliva, spitting on his tip and smudging it with her thumb. He held back a groan, fluttering at the feeling of her caress.

“I wanna do it now.”

“Go on, then.” He barely finished speaking when she started sucking him again. Keeping in mind how and when to breathe, she was able to take him easier than before. Soobin’s eyes darkened, enamoured by the sight. “Like this, go slow. No need to rush.” She looked at him through her lashes, encouraged by his words. Drool pooled on her mouth, making her gag just a tiny bit when she got past half of his shaft. “You’re doing so good.” He praised. “So good for me, love.” It was enough to keep her going, a little more confident than before. He finally hit her throat and she gagged, but instead of stopping, Y/N bobbed her head up and down once again, trying the pace and the whole move. “Fuck, I might need you to suck me off every day now.” He chuckled, reaching for her hair again, not forcing her face, but keeping some kind of pressure there.

Y/N really did her best. Every time he hit her throat, she ignored the discomfort and the tears, because the pretty, quiet moans he let out were too divine for her to care about anything else. However, as his hips started moving on their own, the quicker they got, the harder it was to conceal her breathing… So, she had to stop. She decided to focus on the tip, sucking and licking at it, while her hand pumped his shaft up and down.

“Where?” His voice came out strained. “Where should I come, love?”

She frowned, pondering. Unbuttoning her shirt would take ages, so the most logical place was… her mouth. Well, she couldn’t deep throat yet, but she obviously could swallow. Besides, she knew boys liked stuff like that. Not bothering to answer, Y/N sucked him with renewed disposition.

It was the way she refused to step back, warm palm against his skin, delicious and wet lips on his tip… Soobin had been waiting for that since the kitchen episode. So, when his orgasm washed over him, he wasn’t sure what felt better: the sheer pleasure of finally cumming, or the whole experience. At the moment, it wasn’t his best friend between his legs ‘trying’ a blowjob so she could do it on her future boyfriend. Y/N was a pretty girl with a perfect mouth and an eagerness to please that would make any boy weak on the knees.

And when their eyes met, the lustful haze not as thick as before, Soobin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so satisfied with just a blowjob.

“Sorry I couldn’t take it all.” She broke the silence, disappointed. “I wish I…”

“Don’t worry.” He cut her off, ready to say ‘We can try again next time’, but the words died before reaching his tongue. There wouldn’t be a next time. She was supposed to do it with Donghyuck, not him. However, it wouldn’t be the same. Donghyuck probably didn’t have a big dick like he did. It was such a petty thought, but it was better than acknowledging the pang of jealousy Soobin felt at the perspective of Y/N deep throating his friend. “You were perfect.”

The small smile that graced her lips made his heart clench. “Oh, you don’t have to…”

“Trust me. You never got a blowjob, so trust me.”

She chuckled. “Alright.”

And because he was still in a haze thanks to the pleasure, Soobin pulled her up by the hand. “C’mere, let me take care of you now.”

Y/N went to him like a moth to a flame, without resisting. Their mouths collided as she sat on his lap, melting on the kiss, burning with it. Before he could lay her down and finally get those pyjama’s pants off, someone knocked on the door.

“Yo, bro, what are you doing?” It was Beomgyu’s voice. “You’re marked as ‘away’ on the group chat, but… Oh. Ohhh.” He giggled. “Is Y/N in there?”

Y/N shook her head in fear, signalling a ‘No’. Beomgyu wouldn’t let her live if he knew he interrupted them… And she wasn’t in a good mental state to take the blow.

“No. I was just watching anime.” Soobin thanked God his voice sounded normal.

“Ah, alright. How about LoL?”

“Coming right in.”

“Ok!” They heard his steps vanishing towards his own room, and sighed.

“I better go, then.” Y/N tried to stand up.

“Wait, no. Why?”

“I don’t want to see Beomgyu now, and you gotta focus on your game.” She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. “C’mon, don’t be difficult.”

“Alright.” He sighed again. “Alright.”

Trying to avoid any embarrassment, she reached for the door, pondering what to say.

“Thank you, though. It was… Really nice.” Oh, how cringe!

“The pleasure was mine. Literally.” His eyes got smaller as he grinned.

“I’m glad.” She glanced at him one last time. “Night, Bin.”

“Night, love.”

Y/N’s breath caught, the nickname ringing in a different tune now. Almost bolting out of the room, she took the stairs instead of the lift, desperate to be alone.

She needed to get Soobin out of her system, and the slick mess on her pyjama’s pants had to be addressed by thoughts of tanned skin, adorable moles and a heart-shaped mouth… Although her mind kept recalling a roguish smile and dimples – which was annoying, since they belonged to…

Felicia and Y/N had left the Pilates’ class ready for their Friday brunch. She liked spending time with her friends, she recharged in their presence; however, this time she just wanted to be quiet. She had no idea of what to do with her thoughts, the flashes of last night occupying much of her head and making it so hard to focus on anything else.

“You’re not even listening.” Fel sighed.

“Of course I am!” Y/N retorted.

“So what was I saying?”

She gulped. “You were…” Luckily, her phone vibrated with a new message. Shaky hands, she ignored the tighten on her heart at the name on the screen.

[11:28] binbin🐰: party tomorrow

time to try our new strategy

Tomorrow.

Oh.

“What is it? You look… I don’t know, stunned?!” Felicia frowned.

“Soobin texted. A-apparently I’ll try to seduce Hyuck tomorrow.” She looked at her friend. “I might… I might kiss Donghyuck tomorrow, Fel.”

“And this is good, right?”

“Of course!” She smiled.

It was. Despite de unsettling feeling on her stomach.

Working went as smoothly as she could make it, now with two growing worries haunting her. Mimi noticed she was acting weird and called for help, which came by the form of take-out and Choi Yeonjun. There was nothing her darling dearest couldn’t mend, heal or sort out.

They were in the middle of an ‘Attack on Titans’ episode when she broke the news.

“I’ll try my next step with Hyuck tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Yeonjun turned to her, interested.

“Yeah.”

Something in her expression made his heart clench. “You nervous, darling?” He asked softly.

Eren’s screams while fighting against titans were a great demonstration of how Y/N felt the whole day. She was confused, frustrated and anxious.

“Nervous, yeah.”

“Why?”

“Got a lot on my mind.” Y/N took a deep sigh, cheeks flushing. “With Soobin things are easy. I don’t feel anxious, nor insecure. On the contrary! I feel… Seen. Cared for. Special. It makes sense, right? He’s my best friend.” She shook her head, as if trying to sort her thoughts. “I-I know what you’re thinking: friends don’t… Friends don’t do what we do. But he is just helping me, because I am desperate. I still like Donghyuck. I really do.”

“I know, darling, you don’t have to explain anything.” Yeonjun took her hand, giving it a tender squeeze. “I believe you, and I’m always on your side.”

The thing was… She was starting to doubt herself.

part two out now!

[lxndonorris]

Chocolate- Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, light touching Charles is your best friend and you're joining him in Australia. However, Pierre pranks the two of you with some spicy chocolate x word count: 1930+ taglist: @game-set-canet mentions of Pierre :P requested by anon :) feel free to request in my askbox gif by me

The scorching Australian sun beats down on the bustling Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit, where the roar of Formula 1 engines fills the air. Among the throngs of racing enthusiasts, you stand nervously, your heart pounding with excitement. Charles, your best friend and Ferrari's star driver, invited you to spend the weekend with him at the track, a dream come true for any racing fan.

As you stand inside the Ferrari garage, Charles flashes you a mischievous grin. "Ready to cheer for me?" he asks, his eyes sparkling brightly. 

"Absolutely," you reply, barely able to contain a giggle. "I can't thank you enough for this opportunity, Charles." 

"That's what friends are for, right?" He says, running a hand across his chest to button up his racing suit, getting ready to jump into his race car.

He zooms out of the garage and onto the track, while you watch the screen with a mix of excitement and nervousness. To calm your nerves, you brought yourself some chocolate from Charles' motorhome. He told you he got them from Pierre earlier today, and both of you enjoyed a bar before this training session—it tastes so good.

As you wait for Charles to finish his last training session for the weekend, the anticipation bubbles within you, heightened by the thrill of the fast-paced racing world.

Clad in his Ferrari shirt and cap, you feel a strange sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins, mingling with the nervous excitement that pulses beneath the surface.

When Charles finally emerges from his car, his presence seems to command the entire paddock. His aura is magnetic, drawing you in with an irresistible force. In one swift motion, his helmet and balaclava come off, revealing a face flushed with exhilaration. 

He exchanges a few words with his mechanics, his focus on the training still evident in his demeanor. But then, as if drawn by an invisible force, his gaze finds yours.

His expression softens slightly as he runs a hand across his chest firmly, stroking himself through his racing suit. Charles licks his lips before turning his attention back to the conversation.

A tingling sensation erupts in your belly, sending shivers down your spine when he approaches you. As Charles closes the distance between you, palpable energy seems to radiate from him, his every movement infused with a magnetic charm that is impossible to resist. Time seems to slow down; everything around you is out of focus; just Charles remains the center of attention.

A confident swagger in his step, he exudes waves of effortless allure, seemingly pulling everyone's eyes on him. With casual grace, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, the strands falling back into place with practiced ease.

His touch lingers on his beard, his fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jawline before trailing down to his chest, where they linger for a moment longer.

You can't tear your gaze away, captivated by the sight of him and the way his features seem to be sculpted by the very hands of a divine artist. His confidence is intoxicating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"How was I?" He asks, his words washing over you in a warm embrace. 

"Simply amazing." You smile as your skin heats up rapidly. Your face flushes with color, nearly as bright as your Ferrari shirt.

"Thank you; the car was so good." Charles remarks with a coy smile forming on his lips. "It felt amazing, like it let me do all that I wanted."

Despite your best efforts to concentrate, your attention keeps drifting, drawn inexorably to every nuance of his being. His lips move with fluid grace, forming each word with precision, and you can't help but be mesmerized by their subtle curve.

His beard, perfectly groomed yet with a hint of ruggedness, frames his jawline with an undeniable allure. As his fingers trail along it, you feel a surge of longing wash over you; the desire to reach out and touch the softness bristles alomst overwhelming.

But it is his hands that truly capture your attention—strong and calpable yet gentle in their touch. Every movement is deliberate, and each gesture imbued with a quiet confidence.

And then there are his eyes, pools of endless depth that seem to hold the entire universe within their gaze. They sparkle with warmth and mischief, drawing you in even closer.

Then, however, he leans in to whisper in your ear. "You look so good in that shirt," he breathes, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Almost as good as me out there on track, huh?" 

You chuckle nervously, the air crackling with tension as you struggle to keep your composure. Charles' newfound flirtatiousness is both exhilarating and unnerving, stirring emotions within you that you had never dared to acknowledge.

His hands brush over yours before he separates himself, a knowing smirk forming on his lips as his eyes roam all over you again.

One of his mechanics calls him over, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Charles has been your friend for years now, and you can't deny the attraction you feel to this beautiful man, but this comes out of nowhere.

Later, you make your way back to his motorhome. The atmosphere grows increasingly charged, thick with unspoken desire. With each step, you find yourself drawn to Charles, unable to resist the magnetic pull that draws you closer together.

Inside his quarters, the air was heavy with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your racing hearts. The scent of his cologne is all around you as Charles moves with fluid grace, his movements mesmerizing as he sheds his racing suit.

You watch, transfixed, as he lets the upper half of his suit hang down his waist, exposing his tight fireproofs that hug his form. Like a second skin, its fabric clings to his skin, and you can't help but admire the way they accentuate every contour of his muscular physique. Despite their attempt to conceal his strength, his powerful frame is unmistakable.

With causal ease, he flexes his arms, the fabric stretching taut against the bulging muscles beneath. You gasp silently as he stretches and moves, showing off his beautiful form.

But it is when he runs a hand over himself, stroking firmly along the curves of his chest and abdomen, that you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away. The sight is hypnotic, a tantalizing display of masculinity that leaves you breathless with desire.

Caught in the act of staring, you feel a blush creep into your cheeks as Charles' eyes meet yours. But instead of embarrassment, there is a playful twinkle in his gaze.

"Like what you see?" He winks, a mischievous grin quirking the corners of his lips as he teases you with a knowing look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." You raise your hands slightly, but he doesn't mind you watching him.

"I don't know. I'm so horny right now." He lets out a low moan that gives you goosebumps. 

Unable to suppress the surge of desire that courses through your body, you close the distance to him, your hands trembling as they reach out to touch him.

His body is warm beneath your fingertips, eliciting a soft gasp as your boidies collide in a frenzy of longing. As your hands venture forth, a hesitant yet undeniable curiosity guiding its path, you feel warmth and a tingling sensation run through you. 

Charles stands before you, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath, the fabric of his fireproofs offering little resistance to the exploration that lies ahead.

With a tentative touch, you allow your fingers to trace the contours of his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the thin barrier of fabric. Each ridge and curve elicits a soft gasp from you and an even softer yet guttural moan from him.

Charles breath hitches at the touch, his gaze locked with yours in a slient exchange of longing and desire. Emboldened by his response, you press your hand firmer against him, reveling in the sensation of his warmth seeping through his clothes.

His muscles ripple beneath your touch, a testament to the strength and athleticism that define him as a professional racing driver. And yet, beneath the surface, there is a vulnerability, a rawness, that speaks of the humanity within him.

"It feels so good," he growls, and places his hands on your waist, holding you close.

In the heat of the moment, you lean in, and your lips meet in a hungry kiss, the world around you fading into insignificance. But just as your passion reaches its zenith, a sudden sound shatters the intimacy of the moment.

Startled, you break apart, your gazes locking in shared disbelief as you turn to see Pierre standing behind you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. His laughter echoes through the motorhome, mingling with the stunned silence that envelopes you.

"It looks like someone's been busy," Pierre teases, unable to contain his amusement.

Embarrassment floods through you, your cheeks burning as you struggle to find the words to explain the situation. But Charles simply chuckles, his arms wrapping around your waist in a protective gesture.

"Thanks for the chocolate, Pierre," Charles says with a wry grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like they had quite the effect."

Confused, your gaze shifts between them, trying to make sense of the situation. Then, you notice him brandishing a box of chocolates with an impish grin. 

Pierre's grin widens, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his eyes. "My pleasure," he replies. "I must say, if I weren't taken, I'd be falling for either of you. You both look so good."

You can't help but giggle at his remarks, even though you're still slightly confused, as the warmth of embarrassment creeps into your cheeks.

"Oh, Pierre, you're naughty," Charles chimes in, his laughter joining yours. "But I suppose I can't argue with you there."

Pierre approaches you, the box of chocolates held out in offering. You accept it, and your eyes fall on it right away. 

"Spice up your life with our new aphrodisiac chocolate bars." You read to yourself and pout, "Really, Pierre?"

Pierre's hand lands on Charles' firm chest, a playful pat that elicits a low growl from him.

"Aren't you just the heartthrob of the paddock?" He teases, his hand stroking Charles' chest a few times, before Charles nudges him with his elbow.

"You're unbelievable, Pierre," he says, shaking his head with a shy smile. 

Still feeling the effect of the chocolate coursing through his veins, Charles can't resist the urge to indulge in a bit of self-admiration. With a smirk, he strokes his own chest, his movements mirroring Pierre's teasing gestures.

Sensing the playful energy in the room, you join in on the fun, nudging Pierre playfully as well. 

He giggles in response, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he returns the gesture.

"I think I should leave you to it then." Pierre licks his lips. "You can keep the chocolate." He smirks and shrugs before leaving the motorhome.

As his laughter fades away and you are left alone once more, a comfortable silence settles between Charles and yourself.

Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "You know, it felt good to hold you close like that," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability.

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. "Yeah, it did." You agree, unable to suppress the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

[undead-supernova]

Prologue - Chapter 1

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

plot: you and Mr. Munson are freshman english teachers at south jefferson high school and it seems that some of the kids think he's a better teacher than you. and, yeah, you're a little bit pissed

wc: 3.9k

no cw for this prologue - (lighthearted enemies to lovers)

a fun 2000s idea i had after watching the tv show English Teacher

title reference: We Are Going To Be Friends by The White Stripes

You were a curious moth to a smoldering flame. If anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d tell them they were crazy. And yet, here you were, staring at a piece of lined paper sticking out of a locker. 

It belonged to Dustin Henderson, obvious from the Weird Al sticker stuck next to another of a retro baseball hat that read This is my thinking cap! Yeah, undoubtedly Dustin’s.

You thought about trying to push it back in so he could avoid some stupid bully ripping it. There was no reason for anyone to do that, but Dustin was a freshman and, well, he wasn’t exactly the most popular guy here. 

Fuck it, you thought before taking a step forward.

As you touched the worn corner, you spotted your name poking out from the page. Next to it was…Mr. Munson’s?

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling it out just a little further.

I just think Mr. Munson is better

Huh?

You yanked the paper from the slit, fisting it with both hands as you scanned the page. That was undoubtedly his handwriting, haphazardly written like he was always thinking faster than he wrote. 

So what the hell was Dustin Henderson doing saying that Mr. Munson was a better teacher than you? Dustin was in your class, not his! How the hell would he know?

A sudden flood of panic washed through you, causing you to throw a glance over to Aisha sitting farther up the hallway, scribbling away at something.  She was always here before everyone else, begging you to give her homework early. Most days the answer was no. Most days.

But today, her attention seemed far away. 

You looked back down, noticing a bunch of tally marks in pencil and pen. Even one was made with…an Expo marker? What the fuck?

she’s hot though, someone responded under Dustin’s comment, taunting you in red ink.

dude I’m dating Suzie 

that doesn’t mean you can’t look

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

Why did this feel like betrayal? Why was the word gnawing at your gut? Why was it bringing that bagel you’d scarfed down this morning up to the surface? 

“Find anything good?”

You startled, instinctively jumping backwards and into the chest of the person behind you. Whirling around, you were face-to-face with Mr. Munson himself. 

This was the first time he’d spoken to you. Ever. You’d been here since last spring, subbing for a teacher on maternity leave before she decided to become a stay at home mom. The hiring process was much easier after that. You’d see him at staff meetings and watch him holding the door open for the students after school like he was herding zoo animals off of his arc. 

And now here he was, looking way too put together for a Monday morning. He had a crisp white button down with a noticeably ironed black tie and his long hair skillfully tucked into a low bun. His shaggy bangs were freshly trimmed with little tendrils framing his face. You couldn’t help but think he was the only teacher here without dark circles under his eyes. 

“I…” you trailed, trying to parse through everything that’s just happened. The tally marks. The comments. The other candidate standing in front of you. The sheer amount of tally marks declaring you inferior to said candidate. 

Mr. Munson’s eyes flickered down at the page, eyebrows shooting up. Before you could respond, he plucked it from your fingers. He mouthed the words as he read, scanning intently.

And then he let out a wheeze of laughter.

“Dustin fuc—freaking, excuse me, Henderson. You know, he’s just—” He looked back up at you, grin fading as he noticed your deflated expression. “Woah, hey. Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, hurt your feelings or whatever.”

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine and you hated that it wasn’t fine. 

There was an image that flashed briefly before your eyes, of a note stuck to your locker with gum. A love letter from your crush, the one you held to your chest with a death grip as you floated through the cafeteria to his table. The great swell of hope before the roar of laughter that ensued. Before he high-fived his friends and let you down hard. 

But this wasn’t your hometown. The walls weren’t flecked in vertical lines of blue and gold. The lights didn’t signal a death sentence.

And standing in front of you was your colleague, stuck with you in this limbo between the past and the present.

“Don’t let it get you down or whatever. They’re just kids.”

You could’ve sworn he saw the swirling fog that lingered in your eyes. Was this him letting you down easy? 

Then why does it feel like a jab?

Mr. Munson was acknowledged as the favorite teacher of the freshman class last semester. You’d caught the tail end of this recognition, watching him laugh and roll his eyes as he gave a quick salute and sat back down. Mr. Munson, who already had everything figured out within the first year of teaching here. 

You opened your mouth, pathetically suppressing the urge to ask, How did you do it? What am I doing wrong?

But the wave of students coming through brought you back to the current moment, stifling any admittance of weakness.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you said. “Gotta run, bye.”

You turned.

“Isn’t your classroom that way?”

Wincing, you turned back around, watching a smirk fill Mr. Munson’s stupid face. His eyes flickered toward your classroom three doors down from his before back at you.

“Yep, thanks. I know where my classroom is.”

“Yeah, I bet you sure do.”

“Great.”

That was the last time you would ever speak to Edward Munson.

Two weeks after you two found the list, you’d decided to sit in the empty break room for lunch. Every time you went to the cafeteria, you saw Mr. Munson there, laughing with the music and band teacher, Chelsea Jennings. 

The numerous times you’d tried sitting even slightly near them, you always heard Mr. Munson talking loudly about his Creative Writing elective. He’d rattle on about the short stories he’d assign them as models with authors even you didn’t know. Names that flew past your head, some even being professors from the local university you hadn’t attended. Professors that he still talked to.

You had taken up the Poetry elective, quickly updating the curriculum to include more female poets and sprinkle in some of the moderns. You’d desperately wanted to talk to someone else about it, but insecurity spread the second you realized all of your poets were well-known. But how could you ignore Emily Dickinson, Annie Finch, Pablo Neruda, and Mary Oliver?

Chelsea wasn’t the only one who talked to him so casually. The other teachers would greet him with such warm demeanours that it made you feel sick. George Bedding, the junior geometry teacher and Mathletes coach, ruffled Mr. Munson’s hair and pretended to punch him before sitting next to him. The fucking P.E. teacher and football coach, Shaun Atkins, even clapped a hand on his shoulder while heading towards the line for pizza day.

The few teachers that had been more than welcoming to you were never around for lunch. Angela Bradbury, one of the senior English teachers, was always helping students or hidden away in her room, nibbling on her Wonder Bread sandwiches while reading the latest romance novel. Sarah Stewart, an art teacher, was your closest ally but spent her lunches working on her own projects. 

See? There was no need to be jealous of him. You weren’t stuck on the outs. You fit in just fine.

Or, at least, that’s what you once thought. Now you had no idea how you were being perceived. And if you hadn’t come to the break room today, you would’ve spiraled. Again.

The room was small, coated in depressing beige with flimsy cabinets filled with powdered creamer and Folger’s coffee that expired two months ago. The refrigerator could barely keep anything cold. 

So, yeah, no one really came in here. 

(The other teachers hid a coffee pot in one of the supply closets with the good creamer in a mini-fridge you’d all chipped in for. Rumor has it that even Principal Scott used it.)

You sat down at the folding table, lower back already aching from the lack of support the metal chair gave you. At least you wouldn’t run into Mr. Munson again.

He’d just laughed while you were in the throes of humiliation. You supposed he didn’t have to think much about it because he was the one who was winning. Even if he was just some guy in his mid-thirties who must’ve taken this job as a last resort.

As if you hadn’t done the same.

But that was irrelevant. 

And, yes, you looked at Dustin a bit differently after the incident. Every time he raised his hand, which was a lot, you couldn’t help but see his penciled scrawl. 

Mr. Munson is super fucking cool

You wondered dejectedly if they wrote that during your class. 

Before you could let out a frustrated groan, you noticed Mr. Munson in the doorway with a metal lunchbox covered in band stickers. He paused, wide eyes locking with yours. You couldn’t help but glare. 

Should the opinion of fourteen-year-old boys affect the way you treat another adult? No, probably not.

But you weren’t always known to be a rational person.

It could’ve been minutes. You couldn’t say. The two of you locked in a stare that seemed more like predator and prey than two teachers just trying to make it through another Tuesday. His dumb expression, dark eyes as wide as a deer caught in the fluorescence. You, a mountain lion trying desperately not to devour your sandwich, chips, and Coke in one bite. Including the aluminum can.

What was worse was the longer you stared, the more you noticed how attractive he was. Properly attractive, with lips coated in what seemed to be tinted chapstick. There was no way his lips were that pink, right? And he had to be using some kind of mascara with how dark his eyelashes were. Then there was his hair, seemingly still stuck in the Eighties with the waves. At least he brushed his hair at all, which was more than any of the greasy-haired teenage boys that frequented the halls. Maybe he could be something to aspire to.

Maybe he already was.

Mr. Munson moved silently, only heard as he pulled out the chair across from you, the legs screeching against the dirty linoleum. You surveyed his lunch, an already cooked ramen cup with a Dr. Pepper. He must’ve found a better microwave in Sarah’s closet.

The teachers of South Jefferson High School had a lot of secrets hidden in their closets. 

You finally dug into your sandwich, nearly moaning in relief. The school had implemented some new rule that the kids couldn’t bring snacks or they’d be “confiscated.” This rule applied to the teachers as well which was fucking cruel. You’d said your tearful goodbyes to apple slices with caramel and coughing fits between periods because you’d tried to choke down packets of Cheez-Its.

However, you weren’t prepared to watch Mr. Munson heave noodles into his mouth with a plastic fork, slurping and sucking the entire time. You couldn’t help your grimace, desperately trying to hold back the sound of disgust in the back of your throat.

Until he looked up, stray noodles plopping back into the styrofoam.  

“Uh, what kind of sandwich is that?” 

He only swallowed after he posed his question. Jesus Christ, this was the guy the kids were deeming their favorite? If only they saw him like this.

“Turkey and provolone,” you responded curtly. 

He lifted an eyebrow. “Really? ‘Cause I see other stuff on it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Banana peppers and onion.”

“And lettuce.”

So much for that scared little deer. Now he was some annoying warthog or a fox trying to slither through chicken wire.  

“Why are you interested in my sandwich?”

He shrugged, a hint of a smile growing in the corners of his lips. You hated it. “It, uh, looks good.”

“It’s Jersey Mike’s,” you said bluntly. 

Mr. Munson only shrugged again. “I only have ramen at my apartment.”

“Right.”

“And that fridge is a piece of shit.”

“True.”

“Woah!” he exclaimed, a huff of laughter leaving his lips. “Did we just agree on something?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the feeling of being a teenage girl again. It figures you’d revert after being in this environment for so long, with the stinging scent of cleaning supplies and hormones spreading like diseases. But nothing prepared you for this to transport you back to a time once easily forgotten.

On instinct, your tongue grazed the front of your teeth, laving over the missing braces that hadn’t been there for nearly twenty years. 

“Why do you care?” you snapped. 

Something flickered across his eyes, too quick for you to distinguish. “Oh, I see,” he started, pointing his fork at you. It was then you noticed that it was in fact a spork. “You’re still pissed off about the list.”

You feigned a snort, waving him away as you took the final sip of your Coke. “What? No way.”

Another pearl of laughter flew out of him. “Has anyone told you you suck at lying?”

“Has anyone told you you’re annoying?”

As soon as it flew out of your mouth, you realized just how mean it sounded. You winced.

Mr. Munson let out another laugh but this one didn’t sound the same as the last. “If I had a penny for how many times I’ve been called annoying, I think I’d be, like, the wealthiest guy alive.”

“You’d surpass Bill Gates?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He pretended to think about it before nodding. “Oh, yeah.”

“Wow.”

You couldn’t help the ease you felt when he played along. But the irritation started right back up as he reopened his mouth.

“I know you’re impressed,” he teased. “It’s okay. Go ahead and gawk.”

“Yeah, I’m absolutely starstruck.”

“Don’t worry about the list.” When you rolled your eyes again, he added, “Seriously! Those guys are just bored. I bet you’re a great teacher.”

“Thanks.” You didn’t even pretend to mean it.

After another shovel of noodles, he said, “But, just between us, I am kinda the best English teacher here.”

You couldn’t help a third eye roll. “I sincerely doubt it.”

A smug grin filled his face. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be sponsoring the new book club next semester.”

A flare of anger flooded your veins.

“What?”

“Don’t get too jealous there,” he teased.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sponsoring the book club.”

He let out a hum and tilted his head. “You sure? ‘Cause I didn’t see your name on there.”

You scoffed. “I didn’t see Edward Munson on that list.” You said his name with a certain amount of venom that you knew wasn’t lost on him. His resulting scowl said it all.

He stood up, smoothing out his shirt and fiddling with his tie. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to deal with us being partners then.”

You were at a loss for words, unable to do anything but watch him move towards the door. “Been great talkin’ to you,” he said. He threw his napkin in the trash can before glancing at you over his shoulder. “I’m Edd-ie, by the way. Don’t wear it out.”

He walked away but you couldn’t help but throw a napkin at his fading figure. It made it as far as the end of the table.

That was the first moment you wondered why he’d decided to eat here in the first place.

“There must be some kind of mistake!” you exclaimed.

Principal Scott shook her head for probably the fourth time in two minutes. “I don’t see why you can’t work with Mr. Munson on this. If anything, that makes the club stronger.”

“It’s my chance to try and connect with these kids,” you explained, desperation leaking through your professional demeanor. “Ed—Mr. Munson has been here way longer than I have—”

“Only by a year,” she corrected, but you were far from over.

“ —and he has a leg up on me with them! I want to start making an impact! Kids these days are less interested in reading than ever before. It stopped being cool. What if I could inspire them to care? What if I could get them to read things that change their point of view on the world, to inspire them to think further outside of the little box their environment puts them in?”

Eddie was impressed by your speech, even if he wasn’t supposed to witness it. He’d actually been on the way here to talk to Principal Scott himself to try and keep his spot as the club’s head sponsor. Maybe keep you there but reduce your authority.

But then. Well. He heard you talk like this.

“And that’s great,” Principal Scott continued. “I just don’t see why you and Mr. Munson can’t do that together.”

“The kids like him,” you said before coughing. “At least, that’s how it seems.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “How am I supposed to do this work if he’s taking the spotlight? I’m just supposed to stay sidelined?”

He thought about the first time he saw you, at that first staff meeting you’d attended. You fidgeted a lot, all flustered and nervous like all new teachers were. Even in your fear, he thought you were pretty. Standing there, shifting from one heel to the other like you’d rather go barefoot than stand in the opposite corner.

You’d looked over at him at the same time, caught up in an awkward staring contest where both contestants refused to stop blinking and had no idea when to call it quits. It didn’t help that you seemingly relaxed at the connection. It was kind of adorable.

When he saw you in the halls after that, he found himself pausing to observe you. You were always there to wish the kids a good morning and a good rest of their day with a certain amount of sincerity that he could never muster. If there was a hyperventilating kid in the hallway, you were the first one to huddle them into your room to help them down from whatever ledge their raging hormones put them on that day. 

Once, he’d walked past your room to see you opening a drawer while saying, “Don’t tell anyone about my secret stash, okay?” You pulled out a bowl of candy that even had his mouth watering. The student nodded her head, puffy-eyed but already reaching in. “If you promise to keep it a secret, you can come get candy whenever you want. How does that sound?”

If you were outside directing carpool, the worst of all the roulette wheel of responsibilities South Jefferson had to offer, you always seemed energized. Like it wasn’t a chore whatsoever. 

He knew you cared about these kids. He did.

But you seemed to have absolutely lost it at the mere implication that you weren’t already everyone’s favorite English teacher. You’d developed some personal vendetta against him as if it was his fault that fourteen-year-olds with greasy hair, braces, and cruel acne flares thought better of him. Especially Dustin Henderson and his group of nerds. He meant that with all the love in the world, of course.

The way you spoke to him was more intriguing than infuriating. Amusing, even. But then you said his name with such disdain, such vitriol. It prodded at something deep inside him, a well of nearly forgotten memories that seemed to overflow the second you said his name like that.

So, yeah, maybe he was starting to develop a bit of a vendetta against you.

Eddie had to shift his plans. Clearly you weren’t going to give up easily. Maybe he’d annoy you to the brink of insanity and get you to drop your sponsorship. He’d always had proficiency in that skill. Besides, it wasn’t too mean. What was another push?

“Don’t you think you’ll get better turnout rates if he’s there?” Principal Scott reasoned. “If the kids like him so much, you can use that to your advantage—and his. I know Mr. Munson is a dedicated teacher. He’s given your speech to me dozens of times about things that quite frankly matter less. He’s passionate. Just try to work together. It doesn’t have to be that complicated.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “Fine. I can do that. Thank you for your time, Principal Scott.”

“Call me Carrie.”

“Yes, thank you, Carrie. I’ll see what I can do.”

Eddie thought about walking away. Really, he did.

But there was a part of him that really wanted to see you. Your figure had been obscured by the doorframe and, sure, he’d gotten enough from your words alone.

Nothing prepared him for the sight before him. You were utterly defeated, scratching at your neck as you hunched forward. The cross-strap bag you always carried was slipping off of your shoulder, causing you to groan as you fixed it. 

As your eyes flickered up, he watched the scowl that seemed reserved for him deepen.

“What?” you challenged. “You wanna gloat?”

It was then Eddie realized he’d been grinning. He gestured to his face. “Was I not already gloating?”

“I can’t believe this,” you grumbled, quickly strolling past him.

But Eddie had a hard time knowing when to stop. And maybe, just maybe, he was solidifying his new plan. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it?

“You could take a picture, you know,” he continued. “just so you can keep up with every face I have when I win.”

“Shut up.”

Oh, he could get this done before Christmas break was over. If he challenged himself enough, maybe by the end of next week.

“I can lend you a camera if you’d like.”

You halted with a huff. “I’m trying to get things done for these kids. I’m trying to help them. Do you not get that? Or is this just a mask you wear to make people like you?”

Eddie tried to disguise the quirk of his eyebrow as he considered your words. But judging by the upwards flick of your eyes, he knew he’d been caught.

What was it that you saw in him that hadn’t been uncovered since his youth?

“You think so low of me.”

“I haven’t been given a reason to indicate any other kind of reaction to you and your incessant need to be a pest at any given time of the day.”

Eddie resisted the urge to give you a slow clap. Instead, he settled on “You done?”

You took a deep breath before nodding. “Yes.” Something seemed to shift as you took another deep breath and straightened your posture. “Winter break is coming up next week. We should try to figure out how to make this work. Why don’t we go get coffee or something and hammer out the kinks.”

“I think that is a great idea,” he replied, his tone more mocking than anything. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You opened your mouth, seemingly to say one thing before hesitating and starting over. “Meet me next Tuesday at Java Bean at one p-m.”

Eddie grinned, smugly wondering what your reaction would be when he said his next words. Professionalism be damned.

“It’s a date.”

Your eyes widened, amusing Eddie to no end. Oh, yeah. That hit something. 

“Do you hear yourself?” you asked, nearly scoffing at him.

There were those eyes of yours, searching for something in his. As if you were both trying to find the truth behind your cement walls of defense. But you gave up first, spinning around and trudging down the hallway.

“See you Tuesday!” he called after you, smiling triumphantly when your shoulders locked up.

Oh, yeah. This would be a cake walk.

thank you to @jo-harrington for all the time she took helping me with the writing process and @littlexdeaths for always making the best dividers. i love you both so much it's hard to articulate.

[alexsoenomel]

Through The Amplifier

Summary: Seeing Metallica with Dean for his birthday 🎶

Based on: THIS

Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, actual smut (but cute fluffy smut), mentions of death, Dean and Reader being nerds

Word count: 8k (I like writing backstories sue me)

Song mentioned (The actual setlist btw): Ride the Lightning,  For Whom The Bell Tolls, Lux Æterna, Until It Sleeps, Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, Moth into Flame,  Wherever I May Roam, Inamorata, Blackened, One and Enter Sandman ( Also Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde by Five Finger Death Punch)

Note: This year I saw one of my favorite bands and finally fulfilled my lifelong dream. I went by myself and had an absolute blast so this idea just came to me.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

“Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Sam?” I said as I pressed the buy tickets button. The website loaded for a couple of seconds before my phone went off. 

“Yeah, I'm sure. I don't listen to Metallica,” Sam told me as I checked my email to see two tickets for Metallica in Inglewood, California in six months.

“How can you NOT listen to Metallica?”

“Not my cup of tea, I guess.” 

“You, Charlie?”

“I don’t like old men in leather,” she simply said, making me chuckle.

To say that I was excited would be an understatement. I was overjoyed, ecstatic, and adrenaline-filled, already mentally preparing for the concert. It was indeed destiny. Metallica was performing two days after Dean's birthday in Inglewood, and since we both shared one dream: seeing them live, I saw it as a sign. Videos from their M72 world tour have bombarded my social media ever since it started, and I decided it was now or never. 

“How much are the tickets?” Sam asked.

I bit my lip and mumbled: “14k.”

“For two tickets?!” Charlie’s eyes widened in disbelief. 

“Each,” I simply said. 

" (Y/N)?! " Sam's gaze was on me, and I could feel it burning. I looked at him and smiled awkwardly, and he gave me a silent look of judgment. 

“I can explain!” 

“I'm listening!” He said, voice as sharp as a knife. 

“You know that rich vampire guy I was sleeping with before we met?” 

“The son of the rich vampire?” 

“Yeah, that one. After we killed them I found his laptop where he kept all of his secrets plus his bank account and asked Charlie to transfer everything to me.” 

“How much?”

“Everything,” Charle said proudly. 

“Untraceable and undetectable thanks to her, so technically it’s not our money,” I added.  

“But wasn't that two years ago?” 

“Yeah, he had a lot of money,” Charlie told Sam as he stared at me connecting the dots.

“That explains why the fridge is always full now.” 

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Charlie said.

I chuckled. 

Sleeping with a vampire was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done. I didn’t know he was a vampire until I woke up one morning in his bed drowsy with two small holes on my neck. By then, I had been a hunter for ten years and The Winchesters were not in the picture yet. I’ve only heard stories about them; some hunters told me that they were monsters in human form, savage, causing chaos wherever they went; and others had kinder words in mind, like heroes, good, impossible to not like. After I realized what he was I was shocked, but not surprised. I had been collecting red flags like baseball cards all of my life, but I’ve never slept with an actual monster. I’ve been with narcissists, egomaniacs, momma’s boys, but never with a vampire. That day I made a mental note: “Never trust guys on dating apps. Sleazy pubs are better for finding sex.”

The day I planned to kill him and his old man was the day that I met the brothers and Charlie. I caught them trying to sneak into the property from the back, since the cameras there weren’t working. I saw them because I was trying to do the same so the servants wouldn’t see me. I could smell hunter’s blood from a mile away and they could too. Sam told me bodies were piling up in LA and I had no idea because they would cover their tracks well and I was too busy having sex with one of the perpetrators. Dean on the other hand was rolling his eyes because he couldn’t believe how reckless and stupid I was. We didn’t start on a good foot whatsoever. He thought I was annoying and I thought he was an obnoxious jerk. That was before we killed the vampire family. 

After we finished the job with minor injuries we went to celebrate –drink. It was Charlie’s idea and I still thank her for that. A few beers later I realized the reason why Dean and I didn’t see eye to eye. It was because we were two sides of the same coin. He was a stubborn nerd with alcoholic tendencies and daddy issues and so was I. And the best part was we both liked the same type of music. Sam and Charlie saw right through us and left after two hours and we stayed and talked for hours. A few more beers and a whole lot of bickering and flirting later, we were fucking in his car like it was our last day on this Earth. I collected one more red flag that night and had too many orgasms. Drunk on sex we both went to his motel room where we had even more sex and barely got any sleep. 

The next morning Sam and Charlie were grinning at us while we were trying to wake ourselves up with caffeine. 

“I see you guys had a lot of fun,” Sam said, noticing our dark cycles. Charlie giggled. 

“Yeah, too much fun,” Dean said, trying to keep his eyes open. 

When it was time to say goodbye and exchange numbers, Charlie had yet another brilliant idea. 

“You should come with us,” she said, leaving the brothers speechless, Dean especially. 

“A hunter alone in a world is a terrible thing,” she told them. 

“Did you just quote Maester Aemon?” I asked her. It was nice meeting a fellow Game of Thrones fan.

“You just became even more awesome!” She said and high-fived me. “She is coming with us, guys!” 

I was indeed alone. I started hunting when my parents got killed by a werewolf when I was 19. I had no extended family just one friend and she had no idea what I was doing in my free time.  

Sam and Dean just stared at each other but naturally agreed since Charlie was running the house and therefore I was moving to Lebanon, Kansas. 

For the first time, I had my room and a place I could call home. The bunker was gray and dark and grew on me rather quickly, but things between Dean and I were strange at first. We both thought we were going to fuck each other’s brains out and never see each other again, but the universe (in this case Charlie) had other plans. He was actively avoiding me until I told him to suck it up and talk to me. We didn’t speak, instead, we were memorizing each other’s scars and moles in different positions…over and over again. We even woke up Sam a couple of times while Charlie was clueless since she slept with headphones.

Slowly, we were falling for each other and each kiss became more fatal than the last and since we now lived together, we were spending every waking moment in each other's presence. It wasn’t until one evening we were drinking and a young handsome guy decided to shoot his shot with me and Dean in a drunken jealous rage told him to piss off when he saw his hand on my hip. When the guy refused to leave me alone Dean punched him in the face and we got kicked out of the bar. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! I was about to tell him to fuck off!” I screamed at him and he just stared at me in complete silence. 

“DEAN?”

He came closer and cupped my cheeks with his hands kissing me gently. This time the kiss was different; it wasn’t filled with lust; it was more gentle and vulnerable. His lips were as soft as ever and for the first time I was so painfully aware of them, I wanted him to devour me whole. 

“Why are you such a dick sometimes?” I asked, his face inches away from mine.

“I don’t like when people touch what’s mine,” he said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear. I suddenly became aware of my heartbeat. 

“Since when do I belong to you?” I asked him, trying to keep a cool head even though my body was on fire. We never made it official, but we both knew it was inevitable. 

“Since I belong to you, dickhead,” he said, and from that day on I was his and he was mine. 

***

 I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in love with Dean. We never said the words, maybe because we were too afraid to verbalize our feelings like grownups, but I knew he loved me just as much as I loved him. His eyes would always sparkle whenever we shared eye contact – even when we fought. He fought a lot, but mostly on hunts, because I would never listen to him and he knew better. In the end, we would get the job done and have angry sex to blow some steam. I’d never thought I’d end up dating a male equivalent of me. I could finally say I was happy with my life, even though objectively speaking it was awful 99% of the time. I was thankful for my chosen family and the fact that I got to experience love for the first time. 

***

I had a hard time keeping the secret, but six months later it was time to celebrate his day. Sam, Charlie, and I decided to make everything Metallica-themed. His cake was a classic chocolate cake but the candles were two small guitars one white and one black (one had the number 3 on it and the other one had 6), The frosting was black and had a picture of the band from the 80s when Cliff was still alive. Dean loved Cliff’s bass, so we knew he was going to love the cake. 

“Happy birthday, Dean!” We all said in unison as I was putting the cake on the table in front of him. Dean’s eyes widened, sparkling with delight, as he stared at the cake. His mouth dropped open in a gasp, revealing a grin that spread from ear to ear. His cheeks flushed with a rosy shade, and he could hardly contain the bubbling excitement as his eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It was a moment of pure wonder etched across his face. He blew his candles after we sang Happy Birthday to him and now it was time to open the presents. 

“This is from me,” Sam said and gave him a bag. 

 Dean pulled a black shirt from it. 

It was a beautiful Metallica shirt, a brand new one from their 72 Seasons merch collection with their yellow album cover and Metallica written on the top. 

“Holy crap a Metallica shirt!” Dean said looking at the beautiful design. Sam smiled at him. 

“Thank you, Sam! It’s perfect!” He then added. 

“You’re welcome, Dean,” Sam said and hugged his brother.

“Now it’s my turn!” Charlie exclaimed and gave him her present. 

Dean pulled out a CD and a cassette tape from a small box– their 72 Seasons CD and a limited cassette tape of the same album. 

“Oh my God! Charlie!” Dean was bursting with excitement and my heart was melting. I don’t think I remember the last time I saw him this happy. His inner child was healing mine – he deserved the world.

“One is for your car and the other is for your laptop!” 

Dean immediately jumped from the chair and hugged Charlie as tight as possible. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

“You’re welcome, birthday boy.”

Now it was my turn. While he was licking the frosting with his fingers I sent him his ticket. 

Dean was staring at me as I was smiling back at him. 

“Check your phone, handsome,” I told him, trying to contain my excitement. 

Dean's brow furrowed just a touch, creating a faint line across his forehead as he checked his phone to see that he got an email from me. 

“What is this?” He mumbled under his breath and opened it. 

Dean’s face lit up with pure joy as realization washed over him. His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open in a wide grin, showcasing his astonishment, while a breathless laugh escaped him. He looked at me for a second before staring back at his phone.

“ARE YOU FREAKIN’ SERIOUS?” He then asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, and guess what? We will be right in front of the stage,” I said and showed him my ticket on my phone. 

His cheeks flushed with color, and his eyebrows shot up, giving him a look of sheer exhilaration. He could hardly contain himself, there was an almost childlike glee as he wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, completely swept away by the moment. I squealed as he spinned me around like I was a ballerina. It was a mix of shock and joy, a perfect reflection of his excitement to see his favorite band live. When he kissed me my feet hit the ground. 

I knew he would remember his 36th birthday for the rest of his life.

***

We packed our bags the next day and went to the airport. Our flight was at 6 pm, so we arrived around 3 pm after lunch. Sam and Charlie came with us because Dean didn’t want to leave Baby at the airport parking lot. We said our goodbyes and went to check in. 

“Don’t let him do anything stupid,” Sam told me. 

“Don’t worry I won’t! We will be stupid together,” I grinned and Sam looked concerned. 

*** 

The flight was quick and smooth; we didn't even feel it. Since it wasn't my money (well not really) I decided to splurge and booked us two nights in the four-star hotel next to the YouTube Theater where the concert was scheduled. They had a pool, spa, and breakfast buffet, so naturally, I figured Dean was going to appreciate it. 

“I don't have swim trunks, (Y/N),” Dean told me as we were entering our room. 

“Yeah I know, that's why I bought you a pair a couple of weeks ago,” I said.

The room was an epitome of elegance, bathed in warm light from sheer curtains. A plush king-sized bed, adorned with crisp white linens and a couple of soft pillows was calling our names. A sleek nightstand held a vintage lamp in the corner, while a polished desk offered a coffee maker and a big flat-screen TV handing across the bed was screaming Dean’s name. The en-suite bathroom was heaven, featuring a spacious glass shower, complete with fragrant candles and premium toiletries.

Every detail was screaming luxury and I knew I made the right choice.

We put our bags on the floor and I turned to Dean to see him staring back at me. 

“Happy birthday, handsome!” I said and kissed him gently. He immediately pulled me closer to him, closing the gap between us, deepening the kiss, and making me moan a little. I could feel his stubble on my face, his hands on my hips, slowing moving downwards to cup my ass. 

“Shower?” He asked before moving his lips to my neck. 

“Please,” I managed to say. 

After having a quick shower we went to bed and he made love to me until we eventually fell asleep only knowing the sound of each other's names. I loved that man with all my heart and soul. 

***

The next morning we woke up at around 8 am, which was our usual time, and went to have breakfast. 

The breakfast buffet was a sight to see. There were freshly baked pastries like croissants, danishes, and muffins, all warm and inviting. A big bowl of colorful fruits sat nearby, with strawberries, melons, and pineapple ready to be picked.

In another section, you could find hot dishes: scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and plump sausages. There was also a selection of artisanal breads, with butter and a variety of jams to choose from. The drink station had fresh coffee and juices. Dean and I were salivating. 

“Oh, this bacon looks crisp!” Dean said joyfully as he put a handful of bacon on his plate. 

“If monsters don't kill us, high cholesterol sure will,” I chuckled and put a couple of pieces next to my eggs. 

Breakfast of champions: bacon, eggs, fluffy croissants, coffee and for dessert fluffy American pancakes with maple syrup. No matter where we went we would always eat the same thing for breakfast.

“The pancakes are so good, my God!” I said as I stuffed my face.

“I need more bacon!” Dean said and went to get more. 

After breakfast, we ended up taking an hour-long post-breakfast nap.

***

The concert was at 9 pm. After we woke up Dean wanted to go swimming before lunch so I gave him his new and only pair of swim trunks: blue shorts with yellow ducks all over. 

“Seriously?” Dean said, looking at himself in the mirror next to our bed.

“I look ridiculous.”

I tried so hard not to laugh.

“It was either ducks or small purple dildos.” 

Dean's face went blank as he looked at himself once more.

“Ducks are good.” 

I, on the other hand, bought a black bikini that was perfect for my body. The sleek design highlighted my figure, and the black color added a touch of elegance. I was oozing confidence and sexiness and Dean couldn't get enough of it. His gaze never left my body and it was filled with admiration and affection. His expression was a mix of pride and appreciation. He was on another planet.

“Dean?” 

“Um?” He asked, his eyes still fixed on my figure, his mouth partially opened. 

“Your gun is showing.” 

He looked down and saw what I meant. 

“Crap!”  

“Let me take care of that before we go!” I chuckled and pointed to the bed. 

***

The pool was nice and big. After an hour of fucking like rabbits we went for a swim only to realize we were too exhausted to do anything with our bodies, so we went to the sauna. 

In the sauna, my skin felt like it was being enveloped in a warm embrace. The heat made me aware of every pore, and I could feel the sweat starting to bead up and trickle down. It was both soothing and invigorating; my skin felt alive, flushed with warmth. 

“I can't believe you planned all of this,” Dean said and closed his eyes, enjoying the sweat dripping from his skin.

I wanted to say it. I wanted to say those goddamn words, but I bit my tongue once more. 

“I know, I'm the best,” I said proudly, while in the back of my mind the sentence "Love makes you do crazy things" echoed over and over again. 

***

Lunch time, another post food nap and it was time to get ready. Dean wore his usual: jeans, a new Metallica shirt he got from Sam, a leather jacket, and combat boots. I decided it was time to turn myself into a rock’n’roll bombshell. I was going to wear leather black pants, Dean's old Ride the Lightning shirt I “borrowed” and never gave it back, and my staple: black Dr. Martens. I did my hair all nice and curly, and my makeup was a bit over the top and not something I usually do.

I was standing in front of the mirror as I started with a flawless matte base, then created a smokey eye with deep blacks and a dramatic wing. Thick eyeliner and voluminous false lashes (that I bought just for this occasion) made my eyes pop. I swiped on dark, matte plum lipstick and defined my brows to frame my face.

A touch of contour enhanced my cheekbones, and I added a hint of shimmer to my inner corners. Feeling powerful and sexy I was ready to heal my inner child with the love of my life. 

“How do I look?” I asked Dean as I put on my leather jacket. 

He bit his lower lip and scanned every inch of me in a second.

“Freakin’ gorgeous,” he exclaimed, making me blush. 

He was never shy to give me compliments and show me how attracted he was to me. Even in pajamas, dying from period cramps, and crying because my favorite ice cream was sold out, he would still tell me how amazing and pretty I was. Like I said, I loved that man with all my heart and soul, it was pathetic and beautiful.

I kissed him and we were on our way. 

We came four hours earlier at around 5 pm, a few minutes before they opened the gates and let us in. In an hour Ice Nine Kills was going to perform and after them Five Fingers Death Punch. When we came in, the pit was already filled with people, but it wasn't full yet. We found a spot just a few inches from the stage. My heart was pounding, I couldn't believe I was there, while Dean was squeezing my hand tightly not wanting to let go. 

“Do you want a beer?” Dean asked me. 

“I don't think that's a good idea. If we drink we will have to go and if we have to go we will abandon this perfect spot. A lot of people are already coming in.” 

Dean nodded.

“Water?”

“That will do,” I agreed, considering we would be standing probably until midnight, staying hydrated was important.

He left to buy us two cups and came back after five minutes. The space was already getting crowded and I was growing impatient. 

“I still can't believe we are here,” he told me. He was buzzing with excitement, eyes shining and bouncing on his heels. 

“Do you think they will play Enter Sandman?” I asked him. 

“I hope so. Pops used to play that song all the time in the car when I was a kid. Sam hated it.” 

“My dad used to sing me that song whenever I couldn't fall asleep. I was a lousy sleeper but for some reason, that song would always put me into a coma.”

I told Dean as I remembered how much I missed my old man.

“You're still a lousy sleeper,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 

“Yeah, because now I cannot sleep without you,” I said and kissed his cheek. I always had trouble sleeping, going to bed after 3 am, waking up at 3 pm, tossing and turning, nightmares, and so on… until I started sleeping next to him. I was never a big cuddler, especially since I would always feel uncomfortable whenever someone would try to hold me while I slept, but with him it was different. I would sleep like a baby next to him, he was home to me. His heartbeat was my white noise and his warmth was my safe space. 

He smiled back at me and at that moment the show began. 

Ice Nine Kills was…something else. Dean and I were trying to decide if we liked the music or not, but one thing we agreed on was: that we LOVED the performance. Gore, blood, and chainsaws were all far too familiar, but we especially loved horror references. The music was not bad, but considering we were both classic rock fanatics it wasn't something we would actively listen to. 

“I love the Nightmare on Elm Street reference,” I commented after they finished the first song. 

“Not bad,” Dean agreed as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and pulled me closer. 

We were jamming to songs we'd never heard before. People around us were either utterly confused or dancing and head-banging like it was their last day on Earth. 

“Oh! That's the Texas Chainsaw Massacre!” Dean said in my ear. 

“I know,” I laughed, but I don't think he heard me considering the music was pounding in my ears. 

After a good hour, they were done. The crowd was growing impatient again and so were we. 

“Five Finger Death Punch is next!” I said and took a sip of my almost empty cup of water. 

“I'm kinda excited about that.”

And to be honest I was too. We heard a couple of their songs like Wrong Side of Heaven and Jekyll and Hyde and instantly fell in love with the singer's voice. Dean even said the vocalist sounded a lot like David Draiman of Disturbed and I definitely could hear that. 

We were waiting for what felt like hours and my legs started to hurt. I forgot what it felt like standing for so long; the last time I went to a concert I was 16 and my family was still alive. Dad took me to see Deep Purple, it was an unforgettable day. 

Five Finger Death Punch came at exactly 8 pm. The band made everyone jump and scream. Their energy was unmatched and the vocalist was giving his all. His voice was strong. The guitarist even threw a couple of picks and Dean almost caught one.

“Damn it!” He shouted. 

“Don't worry, maybe you will catch one from Kirk later.” 

We all completely lost it when they closed the show with the iconic song Dean and I both loved: Jekyll and Hyde. I was singing my heart out with my man and the rest of the crowd while the singer was jumping around the stage. This whole band had such a strong presence, and I decided to check their other stuff after the show. 

"Thank you all for being an incredible audience! Your energy means the world to us. I hope you enjoyed the show as much as we loved performing for you. It was an honor to open for one of the greatest bands to ever exist! Enjoy the rest of the show and be safe!” The singer said and the whole stadium screamed and clapped. 

“DAMN RIGHT!” Dean yelled and I smiled. 

Seeing Dean so at peace with life and enjoying the present moment made my heart flutter. That man deserved the world and even though I couldn't give him one where he was truly happy (mainly because that would require him to leave hunting behind and he would never do that) I could still make his world a little bit brighter. 

I turned around and kissed him, leaving a smudge of lipstick on his perfectly full lips. 

“Are you ready?” I asked him whipping the stain from his lips with my thumb. 

Dean grinned widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Abso-freakin’-lutely!” 

People around us were shouting, screaming, and clapping from excitement, and some people went to get more beer, and pee before the show– it was a beautiful chaos around us. 

“My legs are killing me already,” Dean complained, trying to stretch as much as he could in the sea of people. 

“Yeah, mine turned to stone,” I said and checked my phone only to see they were 20 minutes late. Being late was my biggest pet peeve; even the legendary band that was Metallica didn’t have an excuse. I groaned silently and looked at the empty stage again. I was impatient and filled with adrenaline; ready to sing my heart out, but at the same time I was missing the hotel bed. 

Ten minutes later, our favorite chaotic drummer appeared, sending the whole stadium into a state of pure excitement and borderline madness. He waved and then Robert and Kirk appeared with their guitars and big smiles on their faces. The crowd was cheering even louder. 

“Kirk’s hair is fabulous!” I told Dean, while we were clapping. 

“Yeah, Sam should take some notes!”

And finally, there he was, in the flesh, our favorite voice and my favorite silver fox: James. I've had a crush on James ever since I was a little girl and seeing him right in front of me in his black leather pants, black boots, black shirt, and his beautiful gray beard and hair made my heart beat faster. The man had the presence of a God and I was his loyal worshiper. 

“Oh my God! IT'S HAPPENING!” Dean yelled and hugged me from behind. 

As the lights dimmed and the crowd erupted, Dean and I felt a surge of adrenaline once again. The opening chords of Ride the Lightning sliced through the air, and we couldn’t contain ourselves. With a wild grin, Dean threw his fists in the air, the pulse of the music igniting a fire within him. I was too starstruck to sing, my voice too shy to come out as I was standing there with my phone in the air trying to record a video with my shaky hands. It was my dad's favorite song and I wanted to immortalize this very moment.

Meanwhile, Dean was transported into another dimension. He swayed to the heavy riffs, shouting the lyrics as they echoed around him. Each note was a release, a reminder of the thrill of being alive. At that moment, we were just fans—no monsters, no worries—lost in the pure magic of live music.

“GOOD EVENING INGLEWOOD! ARE YOU READY TO HAVE SOME FUN?” James' voice was powerful with a gravelly timbre that conveyed excitement. We all screamed and with that, they started playing the second song. 

“HOLY SHIT!” I yelled when I realized it was indeed For Whom The Bell Tolls.

As the iconic opening riff surged through the venue, Dean’s heart raced. He felt the familiar rush of nostalgia wash over him, memories of late nights with Sam on the road in the Impala echoing in his mind. The deep, heavy chords resonated in his chest, and he instinctively raised his fists, the crowd's energy fueling his excitement. 

With each thundering beat, he found himself singing along. His grin widened, and he couldn’t help but sway with the music, lost in the moment. For Dean, it wasn’t just a song; it was a reminder of everything he fought for—the bond with his brother, the battles they faced, and the moments of joy amidst the chaos. This was rock and roll at its finest, and he was right where he belonged.

 I, on the other hand, was trying so hard not to cry. The haunting melody of For Whom the Bell Tolls wrapped around me, pulling at my heartstrings. I felt a mix of exhilaration and nostalgia, the weight of the moment overwhelming as memories flooded back—times spent with my family, laughter shared, my mom telling my dad to turn the volume down. Oh, how I missed my parents at that very moment! The intensity of the crowd, the energy of the band, and the raw emotion in the music made it hard to hold back tears. It was a cathartic release. Dean was standing behind me pulling me closer with one hand as I was holding onto his index finger. I wiped my tears and sang my heart out for my mom and dad and after they finished the song I was left with a slight pain in my right ear. I might have forgotten to bring earplugs, but the truth was I didn't want to nor cared about protecting my ears from potential damage. To quote Dean: “Metallica is too good for earplugs.” 

After bringing back so many good memories it was time to mix it up and play something from their newest album.

The melody of Lux Æterna hit me like a bolt of electricity. It opened with a powerful, aggressive guitar riff that instantly raised the tension in the air. As the verses rolled in, the haunting yet energetic melody intertwined with a sense of urgency. When the chorus exploded, the vocals soared, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and defiance. I was completely engulfed in the sound, feeling every note resonate deep within me, embodying everything I loved about Metallica as Dean pulled me closer to him while we were jumping in sync. 

“Lux Æternaaaaaaaaa!” We would sing completely out of tune with James. 

As Lux Æterna blared through the speakers, the crowd became a living entity, energy surging with every note. Fans pumped their fists and sang along, their voices rising in a powerful roar. Some swayed with eyes closed, while others jumped, danced, and headbanged, united in exhilaration. 

“You guys are amazing!” James said. He was covered in sweat and I was salivating. The man was a definition of aging like fine wine and my daddy issues were showing. 

I turned to Dean who was hypnotized, his eyes never leaving the stage. 

"Would you give me a hall pass if I cheated on you with James?"

Dean arched an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his face. “James, huh?”

Amusement in his eyes, he added. “If you think I’m letting you run off with a rock star, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Really?” I smirked.

“You’re mine—rock star or not.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at Dean’s reaction. “You think I’d leave you for James Hetfield? Really?” I teased, arching an eyebrow. His playful jealousy was endearing, and it warmed my heart.

Dean smirked, leaning in with that familiar teasing glint in his eyes. “Just making sure you know where my head’s at,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of seriousness.

“Rock star or not, I’m the one who gets to take you home.” He chuckled, and I could see the warmth in his gaze. “It’s you and me against the world, always.” At that moment, I felt a rush of affection, knowing our bond was stronger than any fleeting fantasy.

As the opening notes of Until It Sleeps fill the venue, the crowd erupts into a frenzy, a sea of raised fists. The energy was electric, and I felt the pulse of the music vibrating through me as everyone swayed together, singing along with wild abandon.

Beside me, Dean’s face lit up with pure joy, his excitement infectious. I glanced at him, my heart swelling with happiness, knowing this moment was deepening our connection. Surrounded by the thrumming bass and the roar of the crowd, I realized this night will be one we’ll always treasure. The crowd swayed around us, but at this moment, it was just us. He sang every word with fervor, and I couldn't help but join in.

The set list was out of this world: Whiplash, Too Far Gone? Welcome Home (Sanitarium), No Leaf Clover, The Call of Ktulu, and Moth into Flame are just a few they chose. 

During Wherever I May Roam Dean and I were screaming every word so hard that I knew our vocal cords would hate us later. We would usually listen to that song after every successful hunt. It became a staple, a reminder of why we do what we do, and a beacon of hope. 

“HOLY SHIT!” I shouted at him with a huge grin on my face.

“HOLY SHIT!” Dean shouted back and kissed me.

The band was looking so good.

I loved seeing Robert jamming with the fans with his signature long and beautiful braids while absolutely nailing every note on his base and Kirk just being Kirk and owning the stage in his green leather jacket. Lars was an absolute beast even at 60 years old. 

When they started playing Inamorata, James took his time to walk around the stage while playing his guitar and smiled at us all. I could see his face as clear as day: his blue eyes had that sparkle of happiness; he had been doing this for decades and you could still see how much it made him overjoyed to see people enjoying his band's music, his smile was infectious and captivating and I couldn't believe he was standing right in front of me. 

I turned to see Dean – he was completely mesmerized, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, staring at James as if he were witnessing a miracle. I chuckled softly, knowing he was the happiest man alive. It was beautiful to see this vulnerable side of him, and I couldn’t help but lean closer, sharing in his joy as the music enveloped us.

The next two songs were Blackened and One. To be completely honest I forgot about Blackened. I was so high on adrenaline, oxytocin, and serotonin that I couldn't remember the song and I was too embarrassed to ask Dean about it. I knew it was an old song, a classic, and I knew Dean would give me a death stare so I kept my mouth shut and listened to him sing (yell). 

After the forgotten song James and his bandmates decided to rip our hearts out.

The ominous sounds of distant gunfire and explosions played through the speakers and the crowd fell into a hushed reverence. The chilling audio of war set an intense backdrop for the song that used to make me cry. The moment I recognized the opening notes of  One, a thrill shot through me, and I felt my pulse quicken in anticipation. It was as if the world around me faded away, leaving only the haunting melody that resonated with the depths of my soul. I never thought I would hear this song live. My dad showed me the music video when I was eleven (my mother was furious, and thought it was inappropriate) and I cried my eyes out, but loved the song. I rarely listen to that song though, it was too raw and reflected sorrow and despair in a way I knew far too well. 

Dean took my hand and placed a soft kiss as James started to sing. I pulled him by his shirt and kissed him, wanting this moment to last forever. He cupped my face pulling me closer, ignoring the sound of people around us screaming the lyrics. It was just me and him, always. 

When I broke the kiss I was inches away from his face. 

As the crowd roared and the lights pulsed, I turned to Dean, adrenaline still rushing through me. With One echoing around us, I blurted out, “I love you.”

Time froze as surprise washed over his face, vulnerability breaking through his bravado. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the music. At that moment, amidst the chaos, I saw that beneath his tough exterior, he was just as scared of love as he was of losing it.

His eyes locked onto mine, and a slow smile spread across his face. “You mean that?” he asked, his voice softening amidst the music.

Before I could respond, he pulled me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear.

At that moment, surrounded by the concert’s chaos, everything felt right. 

Throughout the concert, I took a couple of videos and even got a picture of James shredding his guitar for my new phone wallpaper, but nothing could prepare me for the next song.

“ARE YOU STILL ALIVE?” James said as the opening riff of Enter Sandman sliced through the air, the arena exploded into a frenzy of energy. Lights flashed in sync with the relentless beat, illuminating faces filled with exhilaration. The heavy guitar reverberated through my body, a primal force that united the crowd in a shared heartbeat.

“DEAN!” I shouted, jumping up and down in excitement. 

“I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW!” He screamed. 

Everyone was singing, fists pumping, the raw intensity of Metallica's sound creating a charged atmosphere that felt almost electric. It was a moment of pure chaos and exhilaration, where the music enveloped us, and nothing else mattered.

Suddenly giant yellow and black balls began to fall from above, bouncing energetically into the crowd. They bounced and rolled, creating an atmosphere of pure chaos and fun. Fans reached up, trying to catch them, laughter and cheers erupting as the balls added an unexpected burst of excitement to the already electrifying performance. The sight of those bright, playful orbs amidst the intensity of the music created a surreal, unforgettable experience. One fell on us too as we jumped with other people making it fly to our left. I was trying to take a video but my hand was shaking while I couldn't stop jumping next to Dean screaming and feeling my throat slowly tighten. 

Kirk nailed his solo, while his hair stayed fabulous and James was getting himself ready for the big finale. 

“Hush, baby, don't say a word,”

“And never mind that noise you heard,”

“It's just the beasts under your bed,”

“In your closet, in your head!” 

Dean and I were screaming at each other's faces, filled with nothing but love for one another. 

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Grain of sand!”

“Exit light!”

“Enter night!”

“Take my hand!”

“We're off to never-never land, yeah”

James voice was so raw, so strong, I was still trying to figure out how he was 61 years old. 

“Boo!”

“Yeah-yeah!”

“Yo, whoa!” 

The song ended. I was already getting sad because I knew it was the end. I checked my phone and it was almost midnight. 

The song finished and we all cheered and clapped wanting more.

I heard people yell encore, but after 15 songs they were done. Lars threw his drumsticks at us and someone behind us caught it. He said thank you but the crowd was so loud I couldn't hear him. Until he got in front of the microphone and said: “You were amazing tonight! Thank you for coming!” 

We all screamed even louder. Robert came and tossed a couple of picks and people in front of us were fighting to catch it. He threw five picks in total, covering every part of the pit.

“Come on! I want one!” Dean yelled. We were all still clapping. 

“Wait for Kirk! We are close!” I told him. 

He indeed came next and blessed fans with a couple of picks, but Dean was now too close to catch one and it flew right above his head…

“DAMN IT!” 

James, covered in sweat and looking like a God came right in front of us. I was standing there, completely ignoring Dean and trying to remember every corner of that man's face. While I was in Neverland and watching James throw his picks I didn't even register Dean screaming my name. 

“(Y/N)!” 

“Huh?” I snapped back finally and saw him holding a small white pick that had White Fang written on it.

“OH MY GOD!” I yelled. 

“I DID IT!” He yelled back. 

I loved seeing my man truly happy. I loved that band and I loved everything about that day. 

***

Getting out of the venue was a nightmare. The crowd surged around us, bodies jostling and voices blending into a chaotic mix of excitement and exhaustion. I clung to Dean’s arm, grateful for his steady presence as we stepped into the cool night air.

“That was insane,” I said, smiling up at him. He grinned back, eyes still shining with adrenaline. As we navigated through the sea of fans, I felt a rush of happiness, knowing we had shared something truly unforgettable.

“That was incredible!” Dean exclaimed, his voice full of energy. “ Best night ever! Best birthday ever!” His smile widened as he looked at me, clearly still buzzing from the concert. 

My legs were in pain, I was thirsty and sleepy but it was all worth it. 

We were back in our hotel room 10 minutes later, both covered in sweat ready to sleep. 

I took off my clothes right away, feeling like my legs were on fire. 

“I'm in so much pain!” I complained. 

“I cannot feel my legs!” Dean said. 

“I'm gonna shower. Wanna join?” I was in my underwear standing next to him waiting for him to stop staring at my boobs.

“Coming!” He simply said and started taking off his pants while his eyes never left my boobs. I loved the fact he loved my body. I, like any woman in this cruel “man's world” sometimes would look at myself in the mirror and just hate what was staring back at me. His little stares were a strong reassurance that I was bullshitting.

Usually, showers meant fooling around (shower sex was complicated), but we were too tired for anything but kisses. We lazily washed ourselves in silence, kissing each other here and there. 

“So you love me, huh?” He smirked between kisses. I just smiled at him as the warm water was pouring down my back. 

“Yeah, imagine that! You're loveable,” I said as I was shampooing his hair. His eyes were closed but his mouth formed a small o. 

“Well…” 

“Shut up!” I told him. 

After we were all nice and clean it was time to finally get some sleep. I put on a clean pair of underwear and Dean's old Led Zeppelin shirt I also “borrowed” and he put on a clean pair of black boxers. 

We snuggled underneath the blanket, my head resting on his chest, feeling my body slowly relaxing and falling asleep. 

“You really think I'm loveable?” Dean asked, suddenly. I was half asleep, but this question tore my heart a little and now I was wide awake. I knew he thought he was unworthy of love, unlovable, unclean and it made me incredibly sad, especially because he was the definition of a hero with a heart of gold. 

“It’s hard to not fall in love with you, Dean. If you could only see yourself through my eyes, you would understand,” I told him and lifted my head and kissed him, but this time deepening the kiss. I was tired, and my body was in pain, but the urge to be close to him, to love him, was consuming me. He moaned into the kiss and immediately got on top of me. My hands went in his damp hair. 

We kissed for a while, our souls intertwined, our bodies keeping each other warm before his hand went into my now wet panties, his finger entered me making me arch my back, moaning even louder into the kiss. I was still in pain, but Dean's touch was slowly healing me until all I could feel was pleasure and love. His finger suddenly left my panties and I was left needy and desperate, but he wasted no time and took off his boxers, his dick fully hard. “Lift your hips, sweetheart!” He demanded and I did, letting him take off my underwear. 

He kissed me again before he positioned himself between my legs and entered me. I was so wet and desperate that I took him all instantly. 

“You feel so good!” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy, sending shivers down my whole body. I dug my nails into his back as he started to move, light moans escaping my lips.

We were one. One soul, two bodies, always. 

“Dean!” I moaned pathetically over and over again as his pace became more erratic. I was so close, so so close.

“God, I love when you say my name!” He managed to say as his face was buried in my neck. “Say it again!” He said and slammed into me. 

“FUCK, DEAN!” I screamed, digging my nails into his back, even harder. I could feel the orgasm coming like a tidal wave. 

“Oh God!” He moaned into my ear and slammed into me over and over again. 

My toes curled, my whole body stiff as my skin was covered in goosebumps. An intense wave of electricity rushed through me as I came so hard I could see stars. Dean didn't stop until he came into me, filling me up completely. I'll have to worry about potential pregnancy tomorrow since we completely forgot the concept of condoms. 

We were both breathless, covered in sweat, and panting in each other's faces. 

“Best birthday ever?” I asked him.

“Best birthday ever,” he smiled. 

I was not ready to check out tomorrow. I was not ready to board that plane and say goodbye to this hotel room. I was not ready for this to end. 

As I was laying on his chest, slowly drifting away with my thoughts and as my body relaxed and felt heavier with each passing minute, Dean was playing with my hair and before I started dreaming I heard him whisper:

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 

[thru-the-grapevine]

Deep End

Pairing: Choi Soobin x fem!reader

Summary: Soobin thinks you could be the most dangerous thing to ever happen to him, if he let you (or: not even the ambience of a city rooftop can distract Soobin from you).

Word Count: 5.7k

Tags/Warnings: mature content (minors dni), pwfwp (porn with feelings without plot), public sex, established relationship, man is a simp

Author’s Note: the lovely @chanis-banani has allowed me to post the birthday gift I made for her 🥰 I played myself by writing it for her because now I’m kinda nuts about him too. Whoops.

Soobin has never been a particularly possessive or territorial person before, so he’s unprepared for how it feels to see you in his shirt.

He watches you in the reflection of the hotel elevator, mesmerized. The shirt is a button-down, oversized even on Soobin. He’d helped you roll up each sleeve four times just to give your wrists some breathing room, and from how it fits on you, it gives the appearance that it’s the only thing you’re wearing at all. He’s trying very hard not to stare at your bare legs, focusing in on your little painted toenails to try and stay respectful. He’s not sure if it’s working. Nothing feels respectful about the way he looks at you these days.

The two of you are on a weekend trip to the city together, seizing the opportunity for quality time alone during a rare time when neither of you have anything in your schedules. You’d suggested pretending it was a fancy weekend, and Soobin had taken you at your word and sprung for a nicer hotel than usual, particularly because of how your face had lit up at the idea of a rooftop pool.

The two of you are on the way to this pool now, and instead of wearing normal clothes over your swimsuit, you’d insisted on borrowing one of his shirts. He’d agreed without really thinking about it, and once the sleeves were rolled up you’d declared it was perfect.

Soobin can’t disagree, either, because he can’t stop looking at you in it. Something about it being your idea makes it even better. He likes the way you look in it, but in a way he didn’t expect. Some sort of base instinct in his gut is glowing, seeing you in something of his.

Then again, you’ve always fascinated him, even before the two of you began seeing each other. You’ve always lit up every room he sees you in, something about how you carry yourself drawing the klutzy moth of him to you like flame. He’s never wanted to know so much about another person before. He loves learning every little thing that makes you laugh, that makes you chatty, that incites reactions in you.

He can’t believe he convinced you to say yes when he asked you out, amazed you allowed him to keep coming back for more. He feels like a naturalist who got outrageously lucky enough to get close to their favorite beloved wildlife, like he has to drink in and take note of everything he can get of you in case you spook and flee. Like he can puzzle out the mystery of you if he studies you closely enough.

You catch him staring in the reflection and make a silly face. He grins and makes one back, shifting closer to you and watching his reflection drape an arm over your shoulders. He’s realizing recently how often you draw him in, how he’s always looking for reasons to be as close to you as he can. If he really was a moth, he’d be scorched to a crisp by now.

He can feel you practically vibrating with excitement as the two of you step out onto the roof. There’s a huge grin on your face as you gaze around with eyes so big that Soobin knows you wish you had more of them to take it all in.

“Not too shabby, then?” He asks, charmed at the way you flit from place to place, exploring.

“What do you mean, not too shabby? It’s perfect,” you gush, gesturing from thing to thing and bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Look at the view, ugh, it’s so—and the pool? It’s perfect, the water is so pretty, it’s all so pretty here at night, look at all the other buildings lit up, I’m just—!”

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, face still aglow. “Okay. Calming down.”

He grins, making his way to a chaise lounge near the pool and sitting. “That’s the spirit.”

“Why is it so empty up here on a night like this?” You wonder, staring up and around at the nearby buildings and night sky.

A private smile twitches at the corner of Soobin’s mouth. “Yeah, seems way too nice out not to be up here.”

“Definitely nice enough to swim,” you muse, turning to him and batting your eyes once. “You’ll swim with me, right?”

It was never a question that he would, but Soobin feigns uncertainty. “Hmm...”

“Just for a little bit,” you insist, shoulders slumping, and he can’t help laughing.

“’Course, that’s why we came up here.”

You pout at him, making your way over to his chair. “Rude.”

He watches you approach, endeared at the little frown line between your brows when you pout, how it makes your lips even more distracting. “You’re just easy to bother.”

You make a face at him. “Just for that, you can have your shirt back.”

His mouth goes a little dry when your hands go to the top button, fiddling.

“Oh no, please, anything but that,” he tries to deadpan, but his voice rasps.

You roll your eyes, amused, as you pop the first button. “Perv.”

He can’t even refute you. It’s like erotic torture, watching you unbutton the shirt—his shirt; god, that really is doing things to him. The buttons are on the opposite placket than you’re used to, which means you move slower, and Soobin watches in an agony of lust as inch after inch of your skin is revealed.

You shrug the shirt off when it’s finally unbuttoned, tossing it into his lap and wandering to the edge of the pool. He tries to get himself back under control, but your swimsuit leaves so much less to the imagination than anything else he usually sees you wear that it’s impossible.

You look back over your shoulder at him, pausing on the steps descending into the water. “You coming?”

He nods, dazed.

You raise an eyebrow, smirk teasing the corners of your mouth. “You good?”

That depends heavily on what “good” means. He considers saying this, knows you’ll enjoy the philosophical banter, but when he opens his mouth his throat is too dry to speak. He shuts his mouth and clears his throat, giving up. “I...yeah. Great.”

His face feels hot when you wink at him, tip of your tongue between your teeth. Jesus.

He watches you wade down into the pool and tries to think of boring things, like taxes and bylaws and coding instructions, anything but how breathtaking every inch of you is. It doesn’t work, especially when you dip beneath the surface briefly, then come back up, swiping your hair back from your face more flawlessly than any model.

“Water’s fine,” you murmur, and something in your expression makes him think you’re fully aware that he’s wrapped around your little finger.

Maybe the water will clear his head. He grabs the scruff of his shirt and yanks it over his head. “Coming.”

He doesn’t bother with the steps, heads straight for the deep end and hops in. The cool water is a welcome shock to his system, as well as the muted quiet of underwater. He lingers near the bottom, waiting until his lungs ache for air to push back towards the shallow end.

When he resurfaces, you’re floating on your back, gazing up at the night sky. He swipes his hair out of his face and rises to his full height, angling to see you better. You have your mouth pursed in a specific way to keep from inhaling water, and your hair splays out around your head in the water in gentle, undulating waves, Medusa-style. There are little twinkling reflections in your eyes of the world you’re drinking in above you. Bliss in your face.

Oh no, a voice in the back of Soobin’s mind says, and looking at you feels like he’s made of glass and is being shoved off a high ledge. But Soobin can’t bring himself to be frightened, can only concentrate on the pleasant swoop in his stomach as he plummets. He thinks he might enjoy being shattered by you.

You jerk in surprise when you catch him watching you, a thrash of water. “Jesus.”

He feels a grin tugging at his lips. “Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all.

“Why are you just standing there staring, you weirdo?” You move upright again, and your mad scientist hair flattens into a streaming curtain down your back. Pale blue pool light reflects in little waves over your skin, and Soobin would believe someone in this moment if they told him you were a water goddess.

He can’t tear his gaze away from you, still grinning like a fool. “You’re interesting.”

You raise an eyebrow, teasing smile back on your face.

“Interesting, huh.”

“Mhm.” He starts wading your way at that dreamlike pace water always demands. Moth, meet flame.

“Me, or my tits?”

“I—that wasn’t what—” Soobin stammers. “What—I hadn’t even looked at—”

And he hadn’t, truly. Except of course they’re now at the forefront of his mind, now that you’ve mentioned them, and invisible magnetism keeps tempting his gaze down, a losing fight with the thought of them right at the top of his brain, and now he’s noticing your chest, half-submerged, the gleam of soaked skin and droplets in tantalizing places, noticing the wet cling of swimsuit fabric to curving soft skin. He wonders how it might feel to glide his hands over and under and around, whether you would feel cool or warm under his mouth, and his mind hadn’t been on this track two seconds ago, it really hadn’t...

He hears you snort, tears his gaze back to your face, schoolboy guilt bunched in his stomach.

“Mmhmm,” you say, unbelieving. Your pleased little grin eases the shame, a balm on his heart.

“Yah, I really wasn’t,” he protests. “...but now that you mention it...”

Your snicker is cute, everything about you is so cute, and when did this happen, how did this happen, how did you become the most irresistible thing in Soobin’s world without him catching whiff of it before?

You surprise him when you lunge for him when he’s close enough, your arms flinging around his neck, soft mouth covering his. Like kissing him is a relief, like to you he’s something special, something to look forward to. He’s not going to question why, even if his own appeal to you puzzles him, just pulls you closer with his hands on your hips and kisses you back.

You pull back far too quickly, and he frowns, missing you already. He’s immediately distracted, though, at the delicate feeling of your fingertips ruffling in the soggy strands of his hair.

“Thanks for springing for this place,” you murmur, grateful little smile on your face. “I love it.”

“’Course, baby,” he hums, trying not to feel too smug for nailing it. All of it was worth it just for this.

Your gaze follows a droplet of water traveling down his neck and over his chest. One of your hands leaves his hair, tracing the wing of his collarbone gently.

“You’re really hot when you’re all wet,” you admit, floating off your feet and hooking your legs around his waist.

Your positioning immediately stokes his carnal interest. He blinks, dazed grin spreading slowly over his face.

“Only when I’m all wet?” He teases, hands on a slow glide from your hips to cup beneath your thighs, holding you in place.

You tsk at him, fingers still playing in slow, hypnotic patterns through his hair and over his chest. “Fishing for compliments? Don’t tell me you don’t hear them all the time. We know what you look like.”

He loves watching your mouth when you talk. The shape of your lips is something he’s constantly cataloguing for long-term memory, both from looking at and feeling them with his own.

“I only ever want your compliments,” he says absently, thumbs drawing little circles on your thighs, completely mesmerized. “They’re the only ones that count.”

He can see the reflection of the flickering surface of the pool in your eyes. Something thrills in his chest when the edges of your smile turn a little shy.

“Flirt,” you murmur, leaning in closer.

He blinks, drawing the tip of his nose along yours slowly. He can’t remember what he said. He should try to remember, should take it down to use later, but you’re quite literally hanging all over him and you’re all wet in a swimsuit and your mouth is only inches away and he is not God’s strongest soldier, after all.

He leans down and fastens his mouth over yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the world. It’s quickly becoming one of his favorite things to do, finding all the ways your mouths can fit together. He teases the tip of his tongue along your lower lip, heart racing when you sigh into his mouth and open for him. God. The taste of you, mingled with pool water and the lip balm you’d borrowed from him earlier, is enough to turn off all the thoughts in his brain.

Mouth still playing over yours, he wades slowly backward, inching towards the pool steps, crouching as the water gets shallow to keep you both weightless in the water. His heel knocks against the bottom step and he stumbles back, kiss breaking as he sits down hard.

Your little giggle goes straight to his crotch for reasons he can’t decipher. He grins, sheepish, lifts himself up to sit on the next-highest step, reaching for your hips and reeling you back in. You straddle his lap without him even having to ask, more proof to his mind that you’re perfect, and when he tilts his chin up you meet him halfway.

Everything about you in his arms feels right, and Soobin feels something unidentifiable deep within him settling into place. All his senses are honed in on you, on your mouth moving with his, on the gentle chaos of your breath, on the soft suppleness of you relaxing into him as he kisses you with slow, consuming ardor. His hands slide in restless patterns over you, and eventually his mouth parts from yours and drags along the line of your jaw.

“For the record,” he murmurs, pausing to nip softly at your earlobe, “you’re really hot when you’re all wet, too.”

Your laugh is breathless, a bolt of heat to his gut. “Only when I’m all wet?”

“Especially when you’re all wet,” he whispers, nuzzling against the hollow beneath your ear, savoring how you shiver.

Your skin is cool beneath his mouth, and he makes it a personal mission to warm it again, openmouthed kisses gliding smooth and wet and hot along the expanse of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the wing of your collarbone. He feels you hum and relax further into his lap, tension in your muscles melting you closer against him, candle wax near open flame. He marvels innocently at how incredibly silky you are, even over firmer places, how there’s a hint of you behind the chlorine on your skin, and he needs more of it, feels an itch in his brain for more you in his senses.

“Hey,” you protest halfheartedly as he fumbles with the ties of your swimsuit top. “This is a public pool, someone could come up.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, hearing the words purely at a sound level, feeling the ties come loose in his hands with a slithery tickle. He nuzzles into the inside curve of your breast, nudging fabric away from wet skin, mouth slipping along the plush undercurve. Pure fascination wins out as he opens his mouth wider, bites, sucks.

He feels you twitch in surprise at the feeling, soothes his hands along your back in half-apology, laser-focused on the feel, the taste of you in his mouth. You’re sensitive here, not as excruciatingly sensitive as your nipples, but that just means he doesn’t have to be as careful, can let his curiosity at the feeling of you win unrestricted.

He continues nibbling and sucking in that spot, slides a hand around to your front and tugs the now-loose top away, tossing it behind him blindly. He feels your hands tighten on his shoulders when he settles his hand back on you, cupping your other breast. He eases the pad of his thumb in gentle circles over your areola, mesmerized at the way the skin puckers and tightens to a point under the lazy caress. He hears you swallow back a moan, feels one of your hands slide up and weave fingers through his hair, and that base instinct deep in his gut puffs its chest knowing that he affects you like this.

He lifts his mouth from your skin with a crude pop, other hand sliding from your back to brush a thumb over the hickey. He knows you love when he leaves them on your neck, but it still makes him shy to know other people will see them and make assumptions about what your love lives are like. This one, however, on this pillowy curve of skin that only the two of you get to see, is right up his alley. Satisfied with how dark it is already, he nuzzles your breast and settles his mouth over your nipple.

The little noise you make is adorable, and Soobin finds himself smiling against your skin. He traces his tongue over the budding peak, unhurried, takes your other nipple between his fingers and pinches until you gasp. He can’t resist rolling it slowly between his fingers, twisting one way and then the other as he circles the other in lazy circles with his tongue.

He hears a frayed whimper in your throat, the helpless wriggle of your hips against his inflaming him further. He’s never been addicted to a person before, but he’s hooked on you for sure, wants to take inventory of every inch of you, every reaction he can incite, every texture and scent and movement. He drags his mouth to your other breast and kisses your poor abused nipple gently, massages it better with his tongue as his hand takes over the one he left behind.

All of you drowns his senses—the cool slipperiness of your skin, the little whines you sigh out, the way you keep cinching yourself closer to him, burying your face against his hair, agonizing friction in your laps. He can’t stop himself from groping your ass and tucking your hips in tighter against his, fascinated by the feeling of your muscles twitching and contracting with desire.

He makes a noise of surprise when your hand in his hair tightens and yanks, angling his face up to yours. You crush your mouth over his, and his hands are immediately all over you, roaming restless paths over every inch of you he can reach, urging you closer. He wants to drown in you, be consumed by you, devour you with all five senses at once and then more.

It’s not enough. He wrenches his mouth from yours, panting, tapping your hip.

“Up,” he pants.

You hesitate only a second before moving off of his lap. He stands quickly and takes your hand, sloshing his way up the remaining steps and out of the pool with you in tow.

You seem to be on the same wavelength, to an extent, matching his pace as he makes his way over to the chairs with your things on them. He guides you in front of him, a twinge of fondness in his chest at the sight of your arm attempting to cover your chest, as if that doesn’t just make them look especially sumptuous, and he wants his hands back on you, wants to test how squishable—

“Down,” he pants, hand nudging your shoulder until you sit on the chaise, then nudging again until you lie back. His other hand is already untying your swim bottoms, one side and then the other, gaze laser-focused as he leans in and presses a kiss low on your abdomen, parting your legs.

“I—wait, ‘Binnie,” you protest, hand coming to his head. “Stop—we are outside, someone could look out a window and see—”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin, mouth already gliding along the inside of your thigh. The looming buildings nearby, the vague hum of city life stories below, the night sky, the pool, everything is in a foggy haze in Soobin’s mind. His only focus is you, on how downy soft you are, how you shiver as his tongue darts out to catch at water droplets on your skin.

“Easy for you to say, you’re still wearing someth—ah,” you squeak as Soobin yanks your now-completely untied bottoms away, balling them up absently in one hand and hurling them to oblivion. “Wait, I’m serious, Soobinnnnnnngh.”

He groans into the apex of your thighs, mouth open wide and tongue flattened along as much of you as possible. God, yes, this is exactly what he’s after, concentration and essence of you overwhelming his senses. Slowly, he curls the tip of his tongue, dragging his mouth up, the motion gently parting wet layers of inner softness. You slap a hand over your mouth, moaning as the tip of his tongue laves over the sensitive crest at the very peak, and he lingers there for a moment, leaving an openmouthed kiss.

Blindly, he fumbles above him, finding your arm and pulling your hand away from your mouth, anchoring your wrist to the chaise. He feels your other hand tighten hard in his hair as he continues leaving wet, sucking kisses all over the sensitive tucks and pleats of flesh, working you up with ruthless patience.

He daydreams about this more often than he cares to admit, even more so when the two of you are apart, and he’s determined to learn and implement the way you like it best, the way that makes you lose all sense of shame. Admittedly, he gets a little carried away in part because you’ve told him your former partners were merely passable at eating you out. His competitive streak, combined with this growing obsession with you, make him determined to be extra attentive whenever you grant him this opportunity.

It’s difficult to stay focused, though, the hot and wet feel of you on his mouth, the taste of you on his tongue, enough to make him delirious. He easily gets lost in the savoring, mapping every inch of you under his tongue, lingering in places just because it makes you tremble and whine like you’re desperate for him, and he wants you just as desperate for him as he feels about you.

He hums into you, delighted, when your legs close in around his head as he closes his mouth over your clit and sucks. Everything goes muffled, even the little moans of his name you’re trying to bite back, but it hardly matters when he can feel your limbs shaking, feel you hot and throbbing against his mouth. You start trying to buck your hips into his face, and he slides his free arm over your abdomen and pins you down, steadying you both. He tongues over you in wet, languid strokes, feels the clenching flutter of the entrance into your body. Pure fascination drives him again, and he strokes you there again, stiffening his tongue and driving it into you.

Oh, god. The tight, blistering heat of you, the taste, nearly unmans him. He moans into you, guttural, and nearly loses his mind at the way he can feel your inner muscles fluttering and clenching rhythmically on his tongue like a heartbeat.

The overwhelming need to make you come slams into him like a tidal wave. He’s determined now, anchoring you in place and delving his tongue into you in delicately aggressive thrusts, nuzzling into you deeper and deeper. He can hear you whining even with your thighs muffling his ears, the sound increasingly desperate, and he wants to give you anything in the whole world that you want, would roll over and bark if you asked, so he doubles his efforts and slides his mouth back up to suck and tongue at that most sensitive bud, wringing sensation like raw honey from the comb.

He wonders for a brief moment if he could come just like this, completely untouched with his face buried between your legs, moaning into you like your pleasure is his own, and if that makes him a munch then so be it. And then you tense and tighten against him for a full moment and the pleasure uncoils, your whole body arching and shuddering in euphoria. He shoves his tongue back into you and moans, lightheaded at each of the siphoning ripples of fulfillment pulling him in deeper, drunk on the little sobs of pleasure you make.

God. He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to be wrapped up in you right the fuck now. He eases you through the quaking pulses of ecstasy and starts fumbling with the drawstring of his swimsuit, taking care not to touch himself for fear of blowing his load in his pants like a teenager. Raw need claws at his insides like a rabid animal, desire to make sure everything is perfect for you warring against his impatience, his craving to skip over things like a condom and gentleness and—

Condom. Oh. He remembers reminding himself to grab one, remembers seeing the box of them tucked into his bag and knowing one would be needed, and yet here he is, empty-handed. Fuck.

“We have to go back to the room,” he groans, leaning back and mopping his chin with the back of his hand. “Now. I need to be in you more than I need to live another day.”

Through your pleasured exhaustion, a lazy smile forms on your lips. You shake your head, glancing over and gesturing at his dress shirt you’d borrowed.

“Don’t need to go back downstairs,” you breathe, and fuck, your post-orgasm voice is devastatingly sexy. “Get the shirt, I brought a condom.”

He blinks at you, once, twice, not comprehending. “You...”

Color flushes over your skin prettily. “I...I thought it never hurts to be prepared. For anything.”

Soobin is trying to process that you’ve had a plan for being up here that involves a condom. Dazed, he glances over at the neighboring chaise, reaches for the shirt.

“Is there a condom...in the shirt...?”

Your breathless giggle ties his insides into little knots.

“You didn’t notice the weird shape in the breast pocket earlier?” You ask, eyes crinkled in mirth.

Through the haze of oh my god she wants us to fuck, Soobin finds it in him to be indignant again. “I wasn’t looking at—I was trying not to look, you know, at...”

He huffs a sigh as he extracts the condom from the shirt pocket, unable to stay annoyed even as you keep giggling at him.

“Here I was trying to be respectful,” he tsks, smiling even as his ears grow hot.

You snort. “Ah yes, the respectful boyfriend that strips his girlfriend at a public pool and commits sex acts on her where anyone could stumble in on them.”

“No one’s going to stumble in,” Soobin breathes, trying to make his hands dry enough to tear the condom packet open.

“What do you mean?”

“Pool’s closed,” he says, giving up and tearing at the packet with his teeth.

“The pool is closed? Are we going to get in trouble for—”

“It’s not really closed,” he says. “I just paid the front desk to tell the rest of the hotel guests that it’s closed.”

You stare at him for so long in stunned silence that he starts feeling a little antsy. “You bribed the hotel...so you could have sex with me?”

“I would bribe anyone with anything to spend even five platonic minutes alone with you,” he protests, fumbling the condom out of the wrapper.

He stills when you grab his wrist, arresting him with your stare. There’s something at work behind your eyes, something he doesn’t know the name for.

“What?” He whispers.

After a long moment, you swallow. “Nothing. I just...no, nothing. Here, let me.”

You keep eye contact as you slip the condom out of his hand, and he shivers when your other hand brushes down his abdomen. His breath stutters when you take hold of him, and he feels himself twitch in your hand after going so long neglecting himself.

If he doesn’t redirect his attention he may still finish before he can even get inside you. “People might—might still be able to see from windows,” he stammers as you roll the condom on, spreading your legs.

You shrug a shoulder, abashed smile still on your face. “If they see, they see,” you breathe.

Sometimes you make him breathless.

“Remind me not to believe you,” he murmurs, settling himself between your legs, “when you say you’re too shy to do this out in the open.”

You laugh as he drags his tip over you, catching on your entrance. “Don’t push it, this is a special ca—ohh.”

Ohh, indeed. Soobin moans and drops his forehead against your temple, feeling what little remains of his sanity obliterating the further inside he eases into you. You’ve been intimate like this before, but no matter how prepared Soobin thinks he is, every time feels like the first time all over again. Nothing ever truly prepares him for the scalding hot, wet glide into unimaginable tightness, for how even when you’re relaxed, he has to bully himself into you inch by inch. He’s shaking with the effort to be gentle, nudges his hips slowly until bit by bit, all of him is enveloped snugly inside.

“How can you feel this perfect,” he groans, most of the willpower left at his disposal exerted on lasting, good god he needs to last even just to feel you around him like this for longer—

You laugh again, breathless, and the way that feels when you’re connected like this is sinfully good. “I try.”

“No you don’t,” he gasps, rocking his hips gingerly into yours. “You just are.”

You whimper as the angle of his hips drives him into a sensitive place inside of you. He grinds into the spot again, careful, his restraint threadbare but hanging on.

“Please,” you pant, hitching your knees further up, and the adjustment of angle forcing him even deeper.

Soobin nearly chokes on his own tongue. Fuck. He thrusts like he’s afraid of himself, mantra of don’t come don’t come don’t come flooding the forefront of his mind, sheer force of will.

“I won’t break,” you plead, voice so breathy and fucked-out it belongs in high-end porn. Sweet merciful god, he can’t do this.

He feels your mouth drag along his shoulder, and then a flash of sharpness. His body reacts to the bite before his mind can catch up, hips surging hard against yours, strangled noise punching out of his throat. Your legs tighten around him, intimate muscles clenching in that way that means hell yes, and the groan from deep in his chest is inevitable as he snaps his hips again. Fuck.

Yeah, okay, he can do this for you. That base instinct in his gut purrs like a feral dragon at the way you can no longer hide your moans, being fucked like this. His new goal now is to build stamina, he’s determined, needs to be able to do you exactly how you want it for hours without stopping. He thinks he might be moaning too but he can’t hear, so preoccupied with drinking in every clench of your muscles around him, every little pleasured expression on your face, addiction to every part of you wrapped around him like this so intense he feels lightheaded.

He can’t tell if you’re shaking or he is, only knows you’re pulling him in like you aren’t already as close as it is humanly possible to be, like that somehow isn’t enough, like you can meld yourselves into a singular being if you try hard enough. Your fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, your breath stuttering in that way that tells him just what’s coming next, and then you shatter around him.

You become impossibly tighter around him, bearing down with rhythmic spasms luring him deeper inside, as if that’s even possible, like he hasn’t been working himself as deep into you as he can go, purely for selfish reasons. He never wants to leave, would live inside you if he could, and he loves that you get like this with him, loves the way you go soft and pliant when the release begins ebbing, god, he loves—

His release hits him with no warning, no buildup, hard as a bullet train. Fuck. It feels like nothing that’s ever happened to him before, and a stab of panic electrocutes him through the feeling. His ears are ringing, alarm bells tolling danger in his bones, and he feels out of control, completely gone, glass making impact at last and shattering into far-flung pieces, impossible to gather again. It’s all he can do to gasp for breath, clutching at you like handfuls of sand that keep slipping away, hips rocking into you, slow, rhythmic, with a mind of their own.

Your arms slide around his back, warm pressure like an anchor point, and just with that, with your tight embrace and each deep breath you take, you’ve found each piece of him, binding him back together. Only now the essence of you fills in the cracks, the healing balm, each sinew of him now limned with your glow. A moth made of flame.

Soobin tries to take as even breaths as possible, tries to sound calm, rests his face against the chaise next to your face and feels a hot stinging drip from his eyelashes.

He knows what that look in your eyes was earlier, he realizes. The unidentifiable emotion. He knows because it’s clicking for him right now, the knowledge that he feels that way, too.

Admin Ellie’s Masterlist

[fierceyetflawed]

holy shit david never disappoints!!!!

[springtyme]

farleigh start x f!reader

make it based on the party scene where he sniffs the “nose candy” off the girls hand

PLS THE FARLEIGH GIRLS ARE STARVING😫

𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ♡

Thank you for the request ♡ I know you didn’t asked for smut per se, but I got a little carried away. I hope that’s okay, and hopefully can help feed the Farleigh girls a little ♡

Farleigh Start x afab!reader || Masterlist || Farleigh playlist

summary: You can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him. Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Drug use (cocaine). Vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing. Enemies to lovers (kinda?). I had pan4bi in mind when I wrote this, but readers sexually didn’t really end up getting mentioned, but Farleigh is definitely pan/queer like in canon. This whole thing kinda started out as one thing but turned into something completely different, so just to clear any possible confusion. Reader is best friends with Venetia, being childhood friends with her and Felix, and that is how she knows Fairleigh. Reader is enrolled in a university in Cambridge, unlike Fairleigh who is in Oxford. No proofreading.

The dimly lit room is illuminated by a dazzling array of colourful lights, flickering and dancing in sync with the music. The deep reverberations of the bass are sending tremors through your body, a pulsating rhythm thumping within your chest, and even piercing your eardrums, but in the best way possible. 

The scent of spilled drinks and way too expensive perfumes and colognes are hanging in the air, mixing with the distinct smell of sweat that, no matter what, or no matter how rich you are, you’ll never be able to avoid when this many people are in one place, drinking and dancing at once. It’s filling the space with a raw, primal energy, an energy which you can feel resonate within you, right into the very marrow of your bones. 

You find yourself surrendering to the music, letting it guide your every movement as you roll your hips to the beat, grinding against the solid body behind you, enjoying the feeling of big strong hands on your waist. You don’t know his name and you like it that way. You’ve been needing this, it’s finally summer, you’re finally on break and away from Cambridge and you have every intent of enjoying it to the fullest. 

As you let yourself be carried away by the music and the pulsating energy of the room, your eyes wander around the crowd. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, your gaze meets the eyes of someone familiar, someone you had hoped to avoid, despite knowing it wouldn’t be possible. 

As your gaze locks with his, a mix of emotions floods through you. A wave of annoyance washes over you, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. 

Fucking Farleigh, the embodiment of everything you despise, stands across the room, his tall frame towering over the crowd. He’s always been a thorn in your side, pushing your buttons and challenging you at every turn. The tension between you has always been palpable, a constant battle of wits and wills.

The memories of countless arguments and bitter exchanges flood your mind, reminding you of all the reasons why you can’t stand him. Farleigh, with his arrogant smirk, like he always knows something that you don’t know, and his condescending remarks, has always managed to get under your skin. And now, here he is, invading your sanctuary of escape. 

And yet, and this is something you would never admit out loud to anyone, you have always felt strangely drawn to him, a magnetic pull that you’ve never been able to fully understand. A complicated connection, really, filled with both desire and deep annoyance.

You tear your eyes away, trying to regain your composure and ignore the magnetic pull drawing you towards him. You focus your attention back on the music, trying to lose yourself in its enchanting melody and forget about Farleigh’s presence. The pulsating beats and the heat of the body pressing against yours conspire to distract you, urging you to let go and revel in the moment. You move with more intensity, swaying your hips and allowing your body to glide effortlessly with the rhythm.

But despite your attempts to ignore him, Farleigh’s image persists in your mind, and it is as if you can feel his piercing eyes on you, burning your skin. The curiosity battles with your annoyance, leaving you conflicted and uncertain.

As the music reaches a crescendo, you can’t resist the pull any longer. With a mix of defiance and determination, you break away from the stranger behind you, making your way through the crowd in Farleigh’s direction. Not because you want to speak to him, of course not, you just want to find Venetia, Farleigh just happens to stand right next to the door.  

As you approach Farleigh, you can’t help but notice the way his eyes follow your every move. A flicker of amusement dances in his gaze, as if he knows the effect he has on you. Just as you’re about to pass him, Farleigh steps in front of you, a sly smile playing on his lips, the strobe lights flickering across his face, highlighting his features with pink and purple, and you feel how a warm flutter swoops through your stomach. Someone who is that annoying really don’t have any business being that handsome. 

You try to step past him, but he moves with a frustrating grace, blocking your path once more. “What do you want, Farleigh?” you huff, your tone laced with impatience. 

But he doesn’t answer you at first, instead, he just keeps the weird little dance going, with you trying to push past him to get through the door, and him stepping in front of you, blocking your way, until you finally take a step back, glaring up at him and you can’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions as you stand before him like this. 

Part of you wants to turn around and walk away, to avoid the inevitable clash that always seems to occur when the two of you are in the same vicinity. But another part of you, a part that you try to keep buried deep within, is drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it fucking frustarites you.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is a low, velvety whisper that resonates deep within your core. “Long time no see,” he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The scent of his cologne invades your senses, stirring up a confusing mixture of attraction and deep irritation. 

With a deep breath, you muster up all the strength you have and respond, trying to match his nonchalant tone. “I was actually hoping to keep it that way,” you reply, crossing your arms.

Farleigh’s smirk widens slightly, and you can see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Well, that I find a little hard to believe. We are in my house, aren’t we?” he remarks, leaning in closer, his voice dripping with a hint of sarcasm.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that it would only fuel his satisfaction. Instead, you take a moment to study him. His sharp features are highlighted by the colourful lights surrounding you. Despite your frustration with him, there’s no denying that he has a certain magnetism that draws people in. “I wouldn’t exactly say it’s your house.” You retort, raising an eyebrow. “More like uncle’s house, isn’t it?”

Farleigh chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “Touché,” he says, his voice laced with amusement. “But you can’t deny that it’s my domain.”

You scoff, unable to resist a small smirk. “Domain? More like your little playground.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of challenge in his gaze. “Funny, because I always thought you were the one who loved a good game.”

The air between you crackles with tension, the familiar dance of wit and banter that has always characterised your interactions. Despite your annoyance with Farleigh, there’s a part of you that thrives on the exhilaration of this verbal sparring. “Maybe I do, but I have no interest in playing with you.”

Farleigh’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a look of genuine curiosity. “No interest at all?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue. “I find that hard to believe. You’ve always seemed to enjoy our little tête-à-têtes.”

You resist the urge to let your guard down, refusing to let him see how much his words affect you. “Just because I enjoy a challenge doesn’t mean I enjoy dealing with you,” you reply, your tone sharp and dismissive.

Farleigh’s gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours as if trying to uncover a hidden truth. “Is that so?” he says, his voice low and velvety. “Because I have a feeling there’s more to it than that. I think you actually enjoy the tension between us, the push and pull.”

You scoff, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that his words are hitting too close to home. “You think too highly of yourself,” you retort, attempting to sound unaffected by his observation.

Farleigh takes a step closer, his presence seeming to fill the space between you. “Maybe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I also think you’re intrigued by me. Admit it, there’s a part of you that wants to know what it would be like to give in to that pull.”

Your heart races at his words, a mixture of anger and desire swirling within you. “You’re delusional,” you snap, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Farleigh’s expression softens, his eyes searching yours with a newfound tenderness. “Am I?” he murmurs, his voice filled with sincerity. The intensity of his gaze leaves you momentarily speechless, your mind racing to make sense of the conflicting emotions coursing through you. You’ve spent so long trying to resist him, to keep him at a distance, but now, in this moment, it feels impossible to deny the undeniable connection between you.

Farleigh leans in closer, his breath warming your ear as he speaks. “You can pretend all you want, but I see right through you.” His voice is laced with a mixture of confidence and mystery that sends a shiver down your spine. Suddenly, all the people around you disappear, the only thing that matters in that moment is the charged tension between you and Farleigh. It’s as if you’re existing in a world of your own, completely detached from reality.

You can’t resist the pull any longer. “Oh, can you now..?” You murmur, slowly, you reach out your hand to wipe a stray piece of glitter away from under his eye, letting your thumb gently graze his cheek. His eyes darken with a mix of surprise and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as if attempting to say something. But before a single word can escape, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a passionate, desperate kiss. 

Everything around you fades away as the electricity between you ignites, the world falling away as you become enraptured by the intensity of the moment. All the pent-up frustration and desire explode in that single act of surrender and defiance.

In this moment, you can no longer deny the complicated connection that exists between you. The magnetic pull, the mix of desire and annoyance, it all becomes clearer as you lose yourself in the kiss. The room around you becomes a blur, the music and the crowd transformed into mere background noise.

The kiss breaks, leaving you both breathless and gasping for air, but the connection remains. You meet Farleigh’s gaze, a smouldering fire burning in his eyes. And in that silent exchange, the tension and chemistry between you cannot be ignored any longer. 

Farleigh’s lips curl into a satisfied smile, his eyes never leaving yours. “I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he whispers, his voice husky with desire.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and defiance in your expression. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” you retort, trying to regain your composure. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

Farleigh’s smile widens, and he takes a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “Oh, it means something, alright,” he murmurs, his voice filled with a tantalising promise. 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, a rush of anticipation flooding through you. As much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that craves the excitement and intensity that comes with being with Farleigh. You know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges along the way, but you can’t help but be drawn to him.

With a mix of determination and vulnerability, you lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. “Fine, it does mean something,” you whisper, your voice filled with both defiance and longing. As the words escape your lips, you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. The intensity between you and Farleigh has reached its breaking point, and you both know it. Without saying a word, you take Farleigh’s hand and lead him out of the room and through the big, crowded house searching for a place of solitude, finally finding it in the form of an unoccupied bathroom on the second floor. 

The sounds of the party fade into the background as you step inside, the quietness amplifying the intensity of the moment. Farleigh takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, his voice low and filled with a mix of concern and desire.

You meet his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I want to find out.” 

Farleigh’s lips curl into a knowing smile, the fiery desire in his eyes never wavering. He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you, his hand inching up to gently cup your cheek. You can feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.

In that moment, any last doubt or hesitation you might have felt fades away as the intense pull between you becomes undeniable. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in the moment. His thumb caresses your cheek, and his voice, filled with a mixture of longing and assurance, whispers, “I’ll make it worth it.”

A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as Farleigh’s thumb brushes against your lips, tracing their outline with a delicate touch. Without even thinking, your own hand finds its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The air around you is heavy with desire and expectation.

As your lips collide once again, the passion between you ignites, consuming you both in a fiery haze. The bathroom echoes with the rapid beating of your hearts and the soft gasps that escape your lips. Farleigh’s kiss is both tender and intense, his lips moving against yours with a fervour that matches your own. This single act of surrender has unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you craving more. 

You start to walk backwards, until your back gently bumps into the vanity cabinet of the sink, without breaking the kiss even once. You first break the kiss as Farleigh’s hands find your hips, helping you jump up the counter. Your already short dress, hiking even higher up your thigh as you spread your legs to let him step in between them. “You got any nose candy?” you pant, making Farleigh chuckle, his breath warm against your lips as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. 

“I think you already know the answer, don’t you?” he replies, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and desire. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small vial of white powder and setting it on the counter.

He carefully measures out a small amount of the powder, offering it to you on the back of his hand. You take a deep breath, feeling a rush of nerves mixed with excitement. With only a very short flicker of hesitation, you lean in, snorting the powder through your nose. The effects are immediate, a surge of warmth and euphoria washing over you.

Farleigh takes your hand, putting the vial to it to make a line for himself, but you stop him before any of the coke has left the container. “No, here.” You say, placing your hand behind you on the counter and leaning back, exposing your bare collarbone, inviting him to snort the line off your skin. Farleigh’s eyes widen, clearly liking your suggestion, his gaze locked on the vulnerable expanse of your skin before a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, lining up a stripe for himself.   

As he leans in, his breath tickles your skin. His fingers, delicate and precise, trace the line of the cocaine on your collarbone before he leans down, his lips brushing against your skin as he inhales the white powder. A shiver races through your body at the touch of his lips against your sensitive skin, the combination of the drug’s rush and Farleigh’s proximity sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You both linger in this moment, caught between desire and the heightened state induced by the substance. Everything in the bathroom seems to fade away as you focus on the connection between you and Farleigh - the electric current that flows between your bodies, the shared need for a temporary escape. Farleigh pulls back, his eyes dark and heavy with desire as he locks his gaze with yours. 

“Come here,” you all but moan, making him chuckle. The lingering scent of his luxurious cologne fills the air, prompting you to inch closer on the countertop, savouring every breath of him. You reach out, pulling Farleigh closer as you crash your lips together once more, the kiss growing even more passionate and heated than before. And as the kiss deepens even more, Farleigh’s hands start to explore your body, one trailing up your thigh while the other gently cups your cheek. Your own hands roam eagerly over his frame, feeling the heat and power emanating from him.

The bathroom becomes a blur of sensations, the feel of his hands on you, the taste of his lips on yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne surrounding you. Time seems to lose all meaning as you lose yourself in the moment, giving in to the intoxicating combination of pleasure and desire. As he finally breaks the kiss, his lips trail a path down your neck, leaving a trail of sweet kisses in their wake. The heat between you builds with each passing moment, every touch and caress leaving you craving for more.

As Farleigh’s lips find their way to the sensitive curve of your collarbone, you let out a soft gasp, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body, his touch igniting a fire within you. His hands roam over your thigh, inching higher and higher, until he reaches the delicate fabric of your now soaked panties, carefully teasing and brushing against your most sensitive area. Your breath hitches in anticipation as his touch sends a surge of arousal coursing through you.

Unable to contain your desire any longer, you guide his hand to where you need him most, sliding your panties to the side. His fingers waste no time in exploring, gently parting your slick folds and finding your throbbing clit. Soft moans escape your lips as he circles his fingers around your sensitive bud, the pleasure building with every stroke. “Damn, you’re so wet,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with desire. His fingers skillfully dance along your swollen nub, expertly coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. 

The bathroom becomes a sanctuary of pleasure and intimacy as Farleigh expertly works his fingers, gradually increasing the rhythm and pressure. You tilt your head back, surrendering yourself completely to the ecstasy flooding your senses. You arch your back, pressing yourself closer to his hand, eager for more. The need for release consumes you, the overwhelming sensation heightening with each passing second. Farleigh, ever attuned to your desires, gives you exactly what you crave. His fingers quicken their pace, increasing the pressure against your throbbing clit, using his other hand to push, first one, then two, fingers into your craving cunt, pumping into you, while still working your clit. 

Lost in the blissful haze, you feel your walls tighten around his fingers, signalling your imminent release. Every touch becomes electrifying as you chase that elusive peak. And when the wave of pleasure crashes over you, it’s all-consuming. Your body trembles with the force of your orgasm, your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he whispers, his voice raw with desire as he continues to ride out your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure with his skilled fingers. He keeps his touch steady and relentless, expertly drawing out every ounce of bliss from your pulsing core. It’s a relentless dance of pleasure and sensation, leaving you gasping for breath as the ecstasy courses through your veins.

Farleigh withdraws his fingers, the absence of his touch leaves you yearning for more. He brings them to his mouth sucking off your juices. “Fuck… you taste good, I think I need to get a better taste, baby” he smirks. 

“Please, Farleigh,” you hate that you’re begging, but fuck how you need more of him. “N-need more…” you squirm a little in your seat, squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. Farleigh smirks again, unlike you he is clearly very glad to hear how pleading and desperate you are for him. 

He sinks to his knees before you and slowly pulls your soaked panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable before him all the while keeping eye contact with you. Without a word, he leans in, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. His lips brush against your inner thighs, teasingly light and gentle, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. As his mouth moves closer to your throbbing core, you grip the edge of the counter, desperately trying to steady yourself. 

The anticipation is almost unbearable, the teasing kisses and licks making you ache for more. Finally, his lips press against your clit, his tongue immediately finding its rhythm as he expertly swirls and flicks, drawing moans of pleasure from deep within you. Each flick of his tongue sends shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, building the pleasure to dizzying heights. He alternates between delicate licks and sucking motions, knowing exactly how to drive you wild. The sensation is overwhelming, and you lose yourself in a haze of pleasure. 

The sounds of your moans fill the room, your pleasure echoing off the walls. You can feel the pressure building inside you, your climax approaching rapidly. And just when you think you can’t hold on any longer, the dam breaks, and you surrender to the powerful waves of your orgasm. Stars explode behind your closed eyelids as your body convulses with pleasure, your voice reaching heights you didn’t know were possible. 

Farleigh doesn’t let up, continuing to lap at your sensitive clit, prolonging your ecstasy until you’re completely spent. As the waves of pleasure subside, he pulls away, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks up at you, his lips glistening with your essence. You struggle to catch your breath, your entire body still trembling from the intensity of your release as Farleigh gets up from the floor. You close your eyes for a second, as you take in the reality you’re living in now, a reality where you have been eaten out by Farleigh fucking Start, and now in this moment you almost can’t recall why you ever disliked him.  

As your body slowly comes down from the heights of pleasure, you open your eyes again, breathing heavily, to find Farleigh staring at you with hunger in his eyes. His own desire is evident, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. Reaching out, you grab hold of his shirt, pulling him closer. “Your turn,” you say, your voice vibrating with anticipation.

A mischievous smile plays on his lips as he realises what you have in mind. Without a word, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing a toned chest. He shrugs off his shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor as he confidently steps out of his shoes. Every movement he makes is deliberate, a display of raw sensuality that only intensifies your desire for him.

With a mixture of excitement and confidence, you jump down from the counter and step toward Farleigh, your legs feel like jelly, but you don’t let that stop you. Your hands find their way to the waistband of his pants, fingers skillfully unfastening them. As his pants pool at his feet, you run your hands up his muscular thighs, feeling the contours of his body beneath your touch.

Your gaze flickers upward, locking eyes with Farleigh, the intensity in his gaze mirrored in your own. Without breaking eye contact, you drop to your knees, fully engulfed in the moment. You trail kisses along his inner thighs, teasing and taunting him. His breath hitching with every kiss, the anticipation in the room building with each passing moment.

As you reach his hardened cock, you wrap your fingers around him, feeling his heat and the pulsing desire that emanates from him. He is big; girthy, with a nice vein lining the underside of his shaft. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, eliciting a low growl from his throat, before you pool spit in your mouth, letting it fall from your mouth and down his shaft. With a combination of skill and eagerness, your mouth encloses around him, the heat and wetness enveloping him. 

As your lips slide up and down his length, you can feel him growing even harder, his breaths becoming more ragged. You use your hand in synchronisation with your mouth, working him tirelessly, determined to bring him to the brink of release, moaning around his cock while breathy praises leaves his mouth.

The bathroom becomes a symphony of moans and heavy breaths as the pleasure builds between you. Your lips and tongue work magic, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. And when he finally succumbs to the overwhelming ecstasy, he spills himself into your waiting mouth, his moans of pleasure echoing off the bathroom walls.

You take him in, savouring the taste of him as his release warms your mouth as you swallow him up. It’s an act of trust and vulnerability, something you, just an hour ago, could never have imagined to be between the two of you. As he finally catches his breath, his hands gently lift your chin, guiding you back to your feet.

Your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between you. “You know, uh…” you start, Taking in a deep breath. “Venetia asked me to stay for a bit, I’ll be here at Saltburn for the next two weeks.” you whisper, letting the implication of your words hang in the air for a moment.

Farleigh’s eyes widen with surprise, a mixture of excitement and hope flickering in his gaze. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you can see the longing in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” he repeats, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and anticipation. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You smile, a mix of mischief and desire in your gaze. “I’m saying that we have two weeks to explore this... connection between us,” you reply, your voice filled with a tantalising promise. “But let’s make one thing clear, Farleigh. This doesn’t mean that I like you now,” and you hate how it isn’t really true. 

Farleigh’s smile widens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I guess I have two weeks to change that.”

Thank you for reading! If you want, please leave a comment or reblog to let me know what you thought of it ♡

[shotmrmiller]

im ngl i've been driving myself insane with the thought of harboring Ghost in your home. Like in the 09 mission The Hornet's Nest where Roach falls off the one roof?

Yeah, make that Ghost and there's no other choice but for the guys to leave him behind. The LZ is too hot, the enemies are swarming like moths to a flame.

The floor comes to him.

He grits his teeth at the agony, choking back a scream. Ghost just fell off a height that should've broken at least a couple ribs; maybe they did, he doesn't know, there's too much adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He's seeing duplicates, the buildings in front of him blurred. There's buzzing in his head, loud like bees. His chest aches, it burns with the lack of oxygen. His throat feels swollen as he wheezes; each breath feels like shards of glass in his lungs.

The white noise dissipates slowly. His vision realigns, lines and details sharpening. The unseen force that squeezed his throat finally lets go, setting him free from its deadly hold., his chest expanding to the point of discomfort— deep inhale, loud exhale.

Breathe. Focus.

There's radio chatter in his ear— Price snarling at Nikolai to fucking wait, that they can't leave him there in the hornet's nest but even with his vision blurred, Ghost can see that they're getting lit up, and he's not gonna have the entire team blow to bits in the helo over him.

He's just one man, and there's a whole world to save.

There's a searing pain in his arm when he shifts, he can't remember the last time his eyes welled up with tears, but fuckin' hell does it hurt.

His hand trembles violently, and it takes him a couple of tries to finally get his thumb to firmly press down on the button of the radio in the front of his tac vest.

"Leave me! Just go!" he roars.

Price argues back that no man is to be left behind, but Ghost can hear far too many voices in a different language get louder. They'll be killed hovering in the air like that.

"Price! Go!"

The voices in his ear are deafening. He rips off his headset, letting it sit around his neck.

The helicopter above him disappears.

Good.

The avalanche of footsteps gets closer and with a strangled noise that scrapes the back of his throat, he moves. Move to safety, get away from them, hide.

Ghost pushes forward until he stumbles, falling onto one knee— using his injured arm to stabilize. White hot pain licks from the wrist up, flames threatening to consume him whole.

A few stray tears escape the corners of his eyes.

He's too blinded by the throbbing in his body to realize that someone is grabbing his other arm.

"Can you hear me?"

Ghost thinks he might be hallucinating your voice. His agony is transcendent.

"Hey! We don't have much time!"

He turns his head to his left, and there you are. A civilian, by the looks of it. And you're trying to lead him away. Where? Are you leading him to a trap?

"Quickly! They're almost here! I can hide you, but you need to get on your feet!" you piped.

Ghost gets up without a fight, decision-making dulled by everything he's feeling.

"Come on, this way!" Your hand grabs his forearm tightly as you drag him away. He trudges behind you, breathing ragged.

Clarity comes and goes, but then he feels your small palms push him forward, into your tiny home.

His eyes drag as he takes in his surroundings. A tiny television in the living room to his left, and an ugly brown couch placed in front of it. To this right is your kitchen, food still steaming on the stove, and a scratched teak dinner table with just two chairs sits by a dirty window.

Quaint.

"Okay, okay. They shouldn't come in here, but if they do, I want you to go to the bathroom and sit in the tub with the curtain closed. Understand?"

His chin tips forward unbidden.

"Good. Uhm, I saw that your right arm is injured. A makeshift splint will have to do, alright?" You briskly walk away, opening the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink.

Ghost stiffens, swallowing thickly. If you pull anything underhanded, he's going to have to kill you.

The tension melts from his shoulders when he sees that you're simply pulling out a first aid kit, and some other stuff to wrap his most likely broken arm up.

You pull out a chair before opening the kit. "Sit. I'm not standing while I do this."

He huffs but complies. "Yes, ma'am." Unafraid to order a stranger around. How peculiar.

The minutes drag on, each one more agonizing than the last. It's a relentless cycle of pain... until it finally stops. The residual pain makes him dry heave.

"Whoa there, please don't puke."

Ghost gives a pained chuckle. "I'll try."

Your fingers tighten the knot in the fabric. "Can't say it's pristine, but it's better than having your arm dangle uselessly, I think." You stare at your handiwork for a second longer, before rising from your seat.

"I'm not sure who you are, but you look like actual military and not a thug with a gun. Did you have a team?" you quietly ask as you put away the medical supplies.

He cuts his eyes to you and doesn't answer.

"Yeah, I suppose it wouldn't be smart of you to blindly give information I don't need to know."

He shakes his head imperceptibly.

"Right. Well, I'm sure you know that we need to lay low, so unfortunately, that means no tv. Sorry." How cheeky.

Ghost simply hums in response.

He looks down at his injured arm. It's wrapped tightly, enough to keep it from moving but not enough to cut off his blood flow.

Not the work of a regular civilian.

You must've noticed him scrutinizing your work because you speak up. "I've worked in the medical field before. Nothing spectacular, but I can deal with a broken bone or two."

He closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the day creep up on him.

So bloody tired.

Ghost takes a breath and opens his eyes. No rest for the wicked, he thinks.

He puts his headset back on, as well as he can with his one arm.

There's a crackling sound in his ear.

[justaaveragereader]

Addicted

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Smut, Comfort Sex

Warning⛔️: Unprotected Sex (No Glove, No Love), Slight Choking, Cream Pie, Needy And Clingy Hongjoong, Marking, If I Missed Anything Let Me Know👀!

NSFW & Warnings Under Cut - Minors DNI!!! 🔞

————————————————————————

Your smile was enticing, your smell was perpetual, you were addicting. Everything about you was worth being addicted to. That frightened Hongjoong. He wanted, no, needed your presence to weigh down on him. He needed you to back him into a corner and suffocate him. He needed it, he wanted it, he craved it. He was addicted and he didn’t want to stop.

Not only did he have the crushing pressure of the company on his shoulders, he also had the responsibility of producing not only for his own group but also for Xikers. It’s not that he didn’t love what he did, sometimes it just got exhausting. You were a light, and he was a careless moth drawn into you.

You were always good to him, if he called, you came. If he needed you while he was halfway across the globe you tried your best to show up for him. He was convinced you could cure any and everything he went through with just a simple glance. He is a very intense lover, you knew that, and tried your best to match him and the thought of that made his eyes glass over.

Standing in the doorway of his studio, hands full of food amongst other small snacks and drinks. He could smell your perfume clouding the small studio, your eyes ogling over him. Not like he was a chore, not like he was a burden, like he was the only man for you. You jiggle the bag letting him know that the items inside are for him to enjoy.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, so I thought I would stop by and bring you something to eat, and snack on for when you are feeling snacky.” You say while walking towards him placing the bags down, his eyes trailing over you like it’s his very first time seeing you.

“And…I missed you, I wanted to see you. So I thought why not knock two birds with one stone.”

There it was, that tug on his heart, he could physically feel you love him, still at times it didn’t feel like enough. He needed you 7 days a week, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Even if he had you all the time, it still wouldn’t feel like enough to him. He was always longing for you, and the thought of you missing and longing for him always made him just a smidge more addicted to you.

“You missed me?” He breathes out in a raspy voice, heart taking over his mind. Cock slightly growing hard in the thought of you wanting him.

“I always miss you Joong.” You turn your body full towards him, pulling his chair out slightly so you can stand in between his legs. Your eyes looking down at him with love, while he cocks his head back to fully take you in. A true goddess. Your words were enough to take his breath away, feeling his chest squeeze he brings his hands up to your hips. Slightly lifting your shirt so he can run his thumbs over your skin. He needs to feel your skin underneath his fingers tips.

“You miss me?” You say lightly, you know the answer, yet you want to hear him say it. Your fingers comb lightly through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp.

Bringing his face into your clothed stomach, inhaling your scent. He exhales, dopamine filling his inner body. His body always spoke louder than his words ever could.

“Morning, noon, and night.” He says through a muffle voice, face still pressed into your stomach.

“Miss me all the time it sounds like.” You speak quietly, hands now working their way down to run at his tense shoulders, your hands on his body immediately ease him, his shoulders loosening instantaneously.

“I miss you even when you are next to me.” He says pulling back from your stomach, your hands pausing at his shoulders. His hands coming down to undo the button on your jeans. He needed you to feel every word that he was going to say. His mask was slipping off, his true self and feelings were surfacing.

“I don’t think you understand how much I need you.” He whispers out, dragging your jeans down to your ankles, helping you step out of them. His lips place light feather kisses along your lower stomach.

“I love you so fucking much.” His voice slightly cracks at the end, a small smile graces your face. You were always enamored with Hongjoong, his intensity is a key reason why you were drawn to him.

“No matter how much I have you, it never feels like enough.” His wet lips leave a trail of small hickies behind, marking you for the future. So you can look back and see that you are marked by him. He would engrave his name into you if he could.

Standing up he pushes you down upon the small couch in his studio, cock throbbing hard against his pants, gripping his bulge to relieve some of the pressure. He wanted to carve this moment into his head forever, just like all the other moments spent with you. You had to be more than soulmates, you had to be made for him. Your eyes glaze over, a shine in them that even brings the sun to shame.

“You have me Hongjoong, you will always have me, for as long as you want me.” You breathe out. Voice far from sultry, but in his ears you spoke like sex each time.

“I want you forever, I want you now, I want you in the next life.” He breathes out, voice thick with need. His emotions were crashing quickly. His heart taking over as the pilot.

Freeing his cock from his pants, he’s dripping pre cum, the tip a vibrant red, almost as pretty as his lip color. His eyes scream predator yet lover intertwined. You lock eyes with Hongjoong, slowly pulling your panties off of your lower half, wanting to make sure he knows that you are all for him no matter what life time it is. It’ll always be Kim Hongjoong.

Usually he would give you more foreplay but today he couldn’t, he couldn’t bear the thought of being not in you. He needed this, just like he needed you.

Easing himself into you, letting you get used to the stretch. Your head falls back instantly, eyes fluttering shut. Everytime was like the first time. God, he was a love sick man. His hands gripping your hips, fingers more then likely to leave marks. Drawing his hips back, he slams back with a powerful deep thrust, savoring the way your back arches, you instantly cry out.

“I love you so fucking much. I want you all the time, I need you all the time.” He pants out, hips speeding up slightly, drawing his hips back far enough to make sure that you see stars. He was sure to make sure he hit every spot in you. He could be blindfolded, and would still know what spots on you to push.

The way your back arches, the way you are holding his wrist while he’s stroking you to heaven is so much to bear. The emotions are a cracking weight on him. You try your best to look at him through your hooded eyes, pleasure nurturing your body. You wanted him to feel you in this moment, you wanted him to know you were with him within this moment. Your cunt clenches, drawing out a loud moan from him. Trying his best to make sure his eyes remain on you. With each thrust the squelching noises bounce around in the small studio. Even though he was in his studio, the wet noises you were making were music to his ears, a song he could never replicate. His eyes glass over with unshed tears.

“I love you.” He grits out, trying to hold onto his orgasm so you can waltz into bliss first. You grip his wrist tighter to let him know you are there, that you are his.

“I love you even more Joong.” You rasps out through a moan, trying your best to remain coherent but the way he cock is sliding in and out of you it’s nearly impossible.

“I love you so fucking much, I need you all the time.” He grits out, tears now rolling down his face, his hips picking up speed, cock deep in your guts. Your back arches, eyes rolling back into your skull.

“I don’t think you understand how much I truly need you. I can’t breathe if you aren’t next to me. I can’t lead if you aren’t there.” Thrusts getting deeper, you needed to feel him. He was going to make sure you never forgot this moment.

“I can’t survive unless you are with me. I’m so in love with you.” He grips the side of your neck, tossing one of your legs over his forearm, hitting inside of you from a whole different angle. Tilting your head forward, he pushes his forehead against yours, unshed tears spilling onto your skin.

“I’m addicted to you, I don’t think you truly understand how much I’m in love with you. I need you with me just so I can function.” His hand on your neck comes to the sides of your throat, making sure to apply the correct amount of pressure that he knows you like. Your eyes start to water, not sure if it’s from his words or from your orgasm that is quickly approaching. Your toes curl, one leg locking him into place so he couldn’t move, you grab him by the front of his shirt, placing a desperate to his lips before shoving your tongue into his mouth. Pulling back slightly he breathes into you, panting heavily above you, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“I love you so fuc-fucking much.” He stutters out, orgasm crashing down upon him, his stuttering hips push harshly into yours. Making sure that your walls milk him dry. He pulls back slightly, brushing some of the fallen sweat and tears off of your skin. Adjusting you so that he would slip behind you on the small couch.

Turning you over so your noses brushed, your hand coming to push back some of the sweaty hair that had fallen upon his face. Heavy pants are shared between you both, his hand finds its place on your hip again, brushing your skin as if to make sure you don’t fade away, that you aren’t just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m so addicted to you jagiya, and I don’t think I can stop.” He whispers out onto your lips, before running his tongue along your bottom lip. Savoring your taste on his very own.

“Good…I don’t want you to.” You whisper back on his lips. Smile taking over your face before driving back into his lips. Loving you was a addiction he would never beat.

————————————————————————

A/N: I just want to say thank you to @whatudowhennooneseesyou for requesting this, she wrote such a AMAZING piece like this for Bang Chan called Limerence go give it a read! She wanted me to write something like it for a Ateez member, and she chose Hongjoong which made me dizzy😵‍💫 bc why do I feel like it screams Hongjoong. I hope I was able to do you justice babes😚! Honestly while writing this I listen to Just Pretend by Bad Omens on repeat bc I feel like it fits this perfectly👀👀. I hope all you guys enjoy reading this!

DO NOT REPOST.

[eringobragh420]

💜 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 💜 Summary: Damian’s girlfriend is producing a piece on him. He decides to produce a piece of his own. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Roleplay, name-calling, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f receiving), cum. 18+ 💜 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! 💜 Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 💜 Requested By: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. Hope you enjoy! Sorry it took so long 😭😭

“Alright, guys. I’m Damian Priest. Thanks for watching.” He threw up his index and pinky fingers just before his girlfriend pressed the button on the expensive camera to stop it recording.

“Outstanding,” she praised. Kneeling on the soft, white carpet of their home, she sat back on her legs as she played the footage back on the screen to be sure nothing weird was in the frame, and that the sound levels were normal and Damian’s voice came through clearly. WWE had tasked her as a producer (and probably because the two had been dating for a year) to create an intimate look into Damian’s private life. Which hadn’t been much, considering neither of them were in any hurry to show off their personal lives to the entire world. Despite this, she knew she had a good product. “Looks like we got it.”

“Yeah?” Damian asked. “Let me see.” She handed him the camera and busied herself with packing the camera’s accessories into the bag beside her. After a moment, she realized the only sound in the room was coming from the constant hum of the air conditioner. Glancing up at Damian, he held the camera in both hands, eyes on the screen as if he were watching the playback, but she didn’t hear his voice.

“Are you watching it?” she asked. “Is the sound not working?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, distracted. “I’m watching … you know …” He trailed off, eyes narrowing, focused. 

Her own eyes blinked down at the camera’s lens, brows furrowed. “Is that zoom—are you recording?” she exclaimed. Damian grinned behind the camera, shoulders shaking as he chuckled, and he leaned this way and that as if he were some famous director with a particular vision. “Do I really have to tell you that the camera isn’t a toy?” she teased, dropping her hands on her hips.

“Aww, querida, you know that’s not true,” Damian purred, his tone hitting that one level, the special one, the one that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. “Everything’s a toy if you play with it.”

“So, by that logic …” She leaned forward, bringing her hands to the floor, and she started to crawl toward Damian “I’m a toy.”

“My toy,” Damian sneered.

Her mouth quirked. “Your toy,” she corrected. Damian spread his legs wider to accept her between them, and she tucked her own legs under her like she’d been sitting before.

“And right now—” He reached out, able to hold the lightweight camera with one hand, and cupped her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb. “—I wanna make my toy into a pornstar.”

All the oxygen left her lungs in an audible whoosh, her heart kicking up its pace. Before she could give the idea much thought, and before she could process the fact they would be using a WWE-issued camera, she nuzzled into the palm of his hand, pressing a few chaste kisses there before licking the heel, all the way up his thumb where she enveloped the digit in her mouth.

“That’s it,” Damian said, pumping his thumb leisurely in and out of her mouth. “You like that idea, don’t you?” She watched as the twinkling stars always present in Damian Priest’s ochre eyes were devoured by growing black holes, and she’d have given anything to see just beyond his event horizon. “You wanna be a pretty little pornstar?” She nodded, eyes round and clear, mouth still working on his thumb. “Good girl,” he praised, and her heart melted, eyes falling closed. “But you gotta audition first.” Her eyes opened just as slowly as they’d closed, meeting his gaze. “You understand?” He removed his thumb from her mouth, and while she was able to speak now, she couldn’t find the words within her hazy, lust-filled brain, so she simply nodded again. Damian tilted his head, “Now take my cock out and show me why you’re better than all the other girls I’ve met this week.”

She admired—and was a little envious of—how easily he was able to go from her loving, devoted boyfriend to the intimidating, apparently manwhore porn director that now sat before her. How he was able to come up with roleplay ideas off the top of his head and was confident enough to act them out as if the scenario was real-world.

“Corazón,” Damian said, “don’t make me tell you again.”

Her hands reached up to work on his belt and jeans, glancing up at the camera, biting her lip, and all she could see of Damian behind the camera were those black eyes. Reaching inside his jeans, she unleashed his semi-hard cock, a grin working its way across her mouth. She loved the challenge of getting him as hard as possible as quickly as possible and she wondered how much assistance the camera was going to give her in said endeavor. Lifting her gaze back to the camera, she engulfed his entire dick in her mouth, a feat she could only achieve before he was fully erect. She dragged her lips back slowly, cheeks collapsing as her mouth created a vacuum, and Damian let loose a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Damn,” he said, “you just go all in, huh?”

She released him with an indecent pop, licking her lips even more lewdly. “Go big or go home, right?” she purred.

“Back in your mouth,” he ordered.

She obeyed, because she loved to obey him, and because she really, really wanted this fake pornstar job. She sucked him back into her searing mouth, lips now stretching around him, bobbing her head. The distinct sound of the head of his dick poking into the back of her throat—that wet, smacking sound—echoed off the walls of their bedroom. Damian cried out, hand slipping around the back of her head, and he fisted a handful of her hair. She grunted, sending vibrations down his cock and into his balls, allowing him to control the pace, which continuously increased. She squeezed his thighs for stability, looking up at him just as tears fell from both eyes and streaked down her cheeks.

“Fuck yeah,” Damian groaned. Her scalp was going numb and her throat was sore and she was drooling all over herself, all over his cock, and, pornstar or not, she never wanted to lose the role of his toy. “Fucking love this, don’t you?” he breathed. “You’d do it even if you weren’t getting paid, huh?” He impaled her throat, holding her there, moaning and mumbling obscenities every time she coughed or gagged. “Puta de mierda.”

He released her, and she yanked herself back, gulping for air, choking on the excess saliva. She was positive she was an absolute mess right now, and it wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined looking the first time they recorded themselves, but this was them. Rough, hot, dirty, needy, and greedy. Damian jerked his soaked cock as she caught her breath, and after a moment, her mouth was back on him, sucking on the head as he continued to stroke.

“I bet you’re wet as fuck chokin’ on this dick,” he went on.

Matter of fact, she was, and, though her mind was foggy, she thought this might have been the first time she’d even noticed her own arousal. So focused had she been on pleasing Damian and getting the job, she didn’t remember once squeezing her thighs for relief. Flexing one thigh and then the other, she readily felt the slickness between her folds and she whined around Damian’s cock.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought,” he snarled. He pulled his dick from her mouth, slapping her cheek with it. “You know I gotta taste that pussy, right?” Breathless, the producer on her knees at the mercy of the World Heavyweight Champion once more could only nod. “Get up here, on your back.”

Damian stepped out of her way, and she climbed onto the bed, rolling onto her back. She reached up to wipe her face off, not able to get much before her boyfriend shoved the camera into her hands. She was turning it around and about to adjust the screen so she would more easily be able to see what she was recording while holding the camera above her when Damian snatched the waistband of her leggings and wrenched them down her thighs. He then shoved her knees to her chest, legs still trapped in spandex, and she felt him rip aside her thong a millisecond before his tongue delved deep into her folds.

“Jesus Christ,” she cried, crossing one ankle over the other. She still maintained a grip on the camera, but where it was pointed she had no idea, as her eyes snapped shut and she thought for a second she did see Jesus Christ.

“Goddamn,” Damian burst. “Goddamn you taste good.” She whimpered, feeling the pad of his finger slide from the top of her clit to the bottom, and then she heard the very recognizable sound of him sucking his finger clean. He tugged the leggings the rest of the way off, tossing them over his shoulder, and then he crossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands, and smoothly lifted it over his head.

As Damian stood there in all his el campeón glory, his girlfriend fumbled with the camera, barely getting a shot of him before he grabbed her legs, spread them, and dove face first into her pussy. He licked and sucked with reckless abandon, nipped at her clit, and had her a writhing, sobbing mess almost immediately. A few times she struggled to keep her eyes open so she could watch the screen on the camera, watch Damian devour a bare, glistening pussy, watch the sex tape unfold in real time.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she divulged, gripping the sheets with her free hand. “I’m gonna cum …” Damian groaned, somehow digging deeper in her pussy, his long tongue slipping inside her. And just as she was about to tumble over the edge, Damian was gone, her pussy suddenly cold and unstimulated. She lifted her head and moved the camera. 

“What, you think we’re here for you?” Damian snarled, hands on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his chiseled chest to his swollen, weeping cock, and she unknowingly licked her lips. “Roll over,” he nodded at her, fisting his dick. Damian took the camera from her, and she rolled onto her stomach. “Up on your hands and knees.” She complied, body popping up on all fours, knees spreading, and he was on her instantly, slapping his cock on her ass. “I’m comin’ in raw,” he growled, and while she already knew this to be the case, hearing him say it in this scenario utterly flooded her pussy, and she whined. She pressed back against him. Damian chuckled, deep and throaty, much like villains in the superhero movies. He pulled her pink thong to the side, squeezing her ass cheek. “All you bitches are the same. Look at me.” She glimpsed him over her shoulder, sighing, still unable to believe she’d landed such a god among men in the first place. He held the camera at chest level and it was trained on her. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”

“Please fuck me,” she whispered. “I don’t care if you pay me—” He slid his cock back and forth along her dripping slit, coating it in her slick, and then he slipped it between her ass cheeks, continuing the same motion. “I don’t care if I get the job.” Damian’s eyes met hers, and in her peripheral, she saw him adjust the angle of the camera. “I just need you to fuck me. Please?”

Damian grinned, shaking his head, and he sheathed his entire cock inside her, shoving her forward onto her elbows, and she yelped. On any other day, he’d have stretched her to prepare her for his size, but not this Damian. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he roared, pulling almost completely out before shoving himself inside again, repeating the action a few times. He reached over her and placed the camera on the bed in front of her. She twisted the screen to see what was in the frame, and it was her in the foreground, bent over, Damian behind her, the material of her pink thong wrapped around his hand. “Maybe you’ll get the job after all.” He fucked her earnestly now, a steady, pounding pace. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“Please,” she whined.

“Say it,” he said. “I know you want it … I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

“God,” she whimpered, “cum inside me. Please cum inside me.” Damian grunted, his thrusts becoming more powerful, faster. “I need it,” she continued, not sure if she was laying it on so thickly for her boyfriend or the camera. “I don’t need the job, I just need your fucking cum.”

“Fuck!” Damian shouted. One final pump and he was unloading inside of her. 

She laid her head on the mattress and looked at the camera, satisfied and smiling, reveling in the sensation of his cock contracting within her. “Thank you,” she purred.

Damian grabbed the camera, and she looked at him over her shoulder again. She giggled, shivering, as he probed her pussy with his fingers. “Look at that,” he said, and at the moment, she felt his cum seep out of her hole and down her slit. “Good girl.” He stood up, jeans and belt still hanging loosely on his hips. “Now get out. I got more interviews.”

🎀 Querida - Dearest/Beloved, term of endearment  🎀 Corazón - Sweetheart 🎀 Puta de mierda - Fucking slut