#and after what happened with Ebony

[fbwzoo]

Thoughts and Prayers for my care credit card please. In the next few weeks we have:

annual exams & vaccines for Addy, Phoebe, & Shilo

6 month tooth check for Spring

Sedated exam & vaccines for Emma

Exam & tooth check for Spoon

And a rat euthanasia/cremation, though that's not scheduled yet. But Sauce's tumor is the size of an egg now :/

[worstloki]

[loki being tortured between thor1 and avengers] Thanos, terrified, with arms shaking as he points the sceptre at Loki: have you had enough yet? Loki: Meow meow meow nyah nyah nya mew mew meow meow meow meow ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[shy9-29]

Faking It ♡ l.hs [m]

⋆ pairing: lee heeseung x reader

⋆ wc: 12.5k

⋆ synopsis: You had never liked Heeseung, and he had never liked you either. Over the three years, both you and Heeseung had become the most popular student in the university. You barely spoke to each other, just exchanged the occasional spiteful look in the hallways. You had sworn never to speak to Heeseung again—until one day, he unexpectedly asked you to be his fake girlfriend.

⋆ warning: not proof read, vomiting, public humiliation, fingering, p in v, pet names, unprotected sex, nipple play, bullying, teasing, name calling, fake dating, kissing, harsh language, swearing, spitting, choking, crying, lmk if I missed anything!

18+ mdni | masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You had never liked Heeseung, and he had never liked you either. It all began when you were both freshmen in university and were invited to a spring break party at a frat house. After consuming almost 6 shots of alcohol, you felt dizzy and rushed to the bathroom to vomit. Unintentionally, you left the door slightly open, and Heeseung, recording the entire incident, uploaded it to his social media account, which nearly all of your school followed.

"excuse me, what?!” you exclaimed in disbelief. As a new school year started, it marked your third year in university. You were on your way to your lockers to grab your belongings when Heeseung suddenly appeared, nonchalantly leaning against the lockers, resembling the stereotypical high school crush.

He simply folded his arms against his chest and repeated the question bluntly, “Be my fake girlfriend for the entire semester.” No ‘please’ or anything, just a short and direct order. Even you had to admit he was extremely hot—black hair, sharp and distinct features, muscular figure—but you definitely hated that attractive face of his due to the incident.

You crossed your arms and gave Heeseung a once-over, adopting a contemplative expression. "Why do you need a fake girlfriend?" you repeated, your tone laced with skepticism.

“Simple.” He simply shrugged as he pushed himself off from the locker and took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance between you two. He leaned down slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours, “I’m sick and tired of my parents asking if I have a girlfriend. It’s exhausting lying to them all the time so I need someone to pretend to be my girlfriend for a few months, and they just happen to fall for you.” He spoke with as if you were nothing more than a mere tool.

"Why not tell them you're too busy with your studies?" you quipped, followed by a sarcastic chuckle. "Oh wait, I nearly forgot—you've been suspended twice! Who would believe you're too swamped with academics?”

He rolled his eyes at your comment and continued talking, his voice laced with annoyance, “My parents don’t care about my education. They only care about my reputation and what others think of me because they’re so damn arrogant and stuck-up. In their eyes, a good reputation requires a girlfriend, and that’s all they care about when it comes to me.” He was starting to sound frustrated, but not because of you, just his parents.

You scoffed at his response, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Do you honestly think I'm going to agree to be your fake girlfriend after that humiliating video you recorded and posted of me?"

“Ah, yes. That.” He let out a short, cynical chuckle as he ran a hand through his ebony hair. “I completely forgot about that.” Bullshit, you thought. “Listen, all I’m asking for is that you be my fake girlfriend. It’s not like I’m asking you to really date me. It’ll literally just be a few months.”

You gestured towards a group of girls nearby, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "Why not ask one of those girls over there? I'm certain a bunch of them would be absolutely thrilled to have you merely glance in their direction."

He glanced over to the group of girls that you were gesturing to, and in all honesty, you were probably right. They always swooned over him whenever he passed them. Any of them would be dying to be Heeseung’s girlfriend, fake or not. But he looked back at you, a hint of annoyance in his eyes, “There’s a reason I asked you and not them.”

“I have a type and none of them matches it.” Heeseung stepped even closer to you so your bodies were almost touching. He tilted his head as scanned you up and down while speaking, “You’re pretty, smart enough. And no offense, you’re not the most popular girl here, but you’re certainly not unpopular.”

"So, you're saying you have a crush on me?" you teased, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

He rolled his eyes once again, “No, don’t flatter yourself, y/n. As I said, you’re just my type.” His hot, breath was now fanning over your neck and he was close enough that you could smell the scent of his cologne, a mix of musk and sandalwood, surrounding the air.

“No”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no”

Now, it was his turn to roll his eyes. He scoffed in disbelief, “You’re rejecting me? You honestly think you’re in the position to reject me?”

You feigned fear, mockingly exclaiming, "Stop, im shaking!" Then, you added with a scoff, "Oh, wait, let me guess—no one has ever turned you down, right?"

You were spot on. No one has ever rejected Heeseung before, nor do people ever dare to. Girls are always chasing after him, and boys are either jealous of him or intimidated by him. He’s never heard the word ‘no’ before, but hearing it now from your mouth was quite intriguing and somewhat entertaining.

“Not a single one.” He responded with a small smirk, his eyes flickering to your lips. He was now extremely close to you, the distance between you was only a couple inches away now. “No one’s ever rejected me before, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything, huh?” he teased.

"Just leave me alone, Heeseung," you mutter, slamming your locker shut and stalking away, your irritation evident.

He easily caught up to you and placed his hand on your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. “What? The great y/n is already giving up?” He leaned in closer. “I thought you’d put up more of a fight.” His grip on your shoulder tightened, but not enough to hurt you.

“I won’t ask again,” He began whispering in your ear, “Be my fake girlfriend for a semester, and I’ll never bother you again for the rest of our lives.” He was now pressed against you slightly, pinning you against the lockers and trapping you.

"What's in it for me?" you countered, locking eyes with him. "And don't say 'I'll never bother you for the rest of our lives.' That doesn't interest me."

A hint of amusement flashed in his eyes at your reply and he chuckled, “Always the smartass, aren’t you?” He leaned down, his breath fanning over your face, and he tilted your chin up so you were looking at him directly. “Name your terms then.”

You pretended to ponder, tapping your finger against your chin, and then declared, "A shiny new MacBook Pro would be pretty nice."

He raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, he didn’t expect you to ask for an item so quickly. He had thought you'd ask for money. “A MacBook?” he questioned before a small smirk spread across his face, “That’s all you want?”

"Oh, and a brand-new car would be great. A Tesla, maybe?"

A look of utter disbelief briefly crossed his face, “Are you just naming out expensive things in hopes that I’ll give in?”

"I mean, you're loaded, aren't you, Lee Heeseung?" you pointed out.

He had to admit you weren’t wrong. The Lee family was extremely wealthy—a huge estate worth millions with a large family business that brought in thousands a day, all passed down from generation to generation. “True. But don’t you think you’re aiming a bit too high here?”

You folded your arms across your chest and chimed in a sing-song tone, "Well, looks like you won't be getting a fake girlfriend after all~"

He let out a sigh, feeling slightly aggravated. Part of him had to admit, he liked your stubbornness. It didn’t come as a surprise though, you had always been the one person who wasn’t afraid of him. He had to take you seriously now though. “Okay. I’ll buy you a new MacBook pro and a Tesla. In return, you have to be my fake girlfriend for the whole semester. Deal?”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by his unexpected acceptance. "W-Wait, are you serious?"

“Does a deal mean I’m not serious?” he said, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. “Yes, I’m serious.” his intense gaze met yours once again, “It’s a yes or no you dumb fuck.”

"Deal!" you responded enthusiastically, extending an open hand towards him for a handshake.

He chuckled, finding your eagerness amusing. He took your outstretched hand and gave it a firm shake, sealing the deal with a smirk on his face. "Then it's official, you're now my fake girlfriend."

—

The following day, while at school, you received a text from Heeseung, asking to meet at the library after classes to discuss the details of this agreement. You readily agreed, tucking your phone away and making your way to class. Sure, enduring time with Heeseung, let alone pretending to love him would annoy the living fuck out of you, but hey, you were at least getting something out of the arrangement.

He was already in the library by the time you arrived, sitting in a secluded corner away from the rest of students. He glanced up as soon as you approached the table he was sitting at. "Sit." he commanded, gesturing to the chair across from him.

He leaned back in his chair, one arm resting on the back of the chair and the other on his knee. He studied you closely, taking in your every trait. “I have a few rules for this fake dating thing.” he finally spoke, his tone authoritative.

You let out an exaggerated eye roll and placed your arms on the table, leaning forward. "Do tell?”

“First rule: we have to do everything any real couple does in public. Holding hands, going on dates in public, the whole thing.” he spoke, his voice firm, “You’re my fake girlfriend now, so you can’t just sit there with that shitty look on your face when I’m around you. No one can suspect a thing. Understood?”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow and questioned pointedly, "I thought this fake girlfriend deal is just about appeasing your parents. Why do we have to act like we’re together outside of your house too? Won’t they think it’s odd we’re suddenly together? I’m pretty sure the whole school knows we hate each other by now.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” Heeseung replied, shooting you an irritated look. “Parents who’re too stuck-up and obsessed with their reputation like mine love seeing couples acting affectionate. Plus, we need the whole school to start seeing us as a real couple, not just my parents. It’ll be more believable that way.”

You tilted your head in bewilderment and inquired, "And what are you going to say when people approach us, curious about our 'relationship'?"

“We’ll just tell them the truth. That we started talking to each other at some point and found out that we weren’t as different from each other as we'd thought.” he spoke with a nonchalant tone. “But of course, I’ll have to make up a story of how I confessed and how we got together, but other than that, it’s pretty much believable.”

You hesitantly continued, your gaze shifting to his fiddling hands and the pen. "And... what about things like kissing, pet names, and all those things... how are we going to handle those?" You spoke in a sheepish tone, a hint of excitement and nervousness evident in your voice.

He smirked slightly at your flustered expression and leaned back in his chair again, one arm placed back on the back of his chair. “I don’t care what kind of pet names you call me, but I don’t want you to call me my actual name. And for kissing…” he spoke quietly, “if I have to kiss you to make all this believable, so be it.”

You let out a sigh, mentally preparing to navigate the next three months with a fake boyfriend. This was going to be... interesting, to say the least.

“There’s one more rule.” he spoke, his gaze now flickering to yours again. “During the three months of this deal, you belong to me. Meaning: no dating, no relationships, no going on dates with someone else. You’re mine now, you got that?”

His words struck a chord within you, causing your heart to skip a beat. Yet, you quickly reminded yourself, *No, y/n, snap out of it. You despise him, and he feels the same about you*. You reluctantly agreed, albeit with a protesting groan, and sunk into the couch.

He suppressed a smug smirk upon seeing your reaction to his words. Despite your protests and eye-rolls, he could see the way you tensed up when he spoke those words. He wasn’t an idiot, he could tell, the effect he had on you, whether you were willing to admit it or not.

—

You had just walked into the school building and instantly, you heard the whispers and murmurs among the students as you made your way to your locker. It was like time had slowed down and every eye in the hallway was on you.

“Is that y/n?” one boy whispered to his friend.

“Damn, she looks pretty today.”

“But why does it look like she’s in a bad mood?” another boy spoke quietly.

Meanwhile, Heeseung was leaning against the lockers at the end of the hall, flanked by his two best friends, Jake and Sunghoon. They were having a conversation when Sunghoon’s eyes suddenly fixated on you, as you walked towards your locker. He nudged Heeseung's arm with his elbow, pointing at you.

“Hey, look,” Sunghoon whispered. “Isn’t that y/n?”

Heeseung’s eyes flickered over to the direction Sunghoon was looking at and he nodded. “Yeah, it’s her. She looks pretty today, huh?” a small smirk spread across his face as he watched from afar.

“What are you guys looking at?” Jake spoke up, craning his neck to see what had grabbed Heeseung and Sunghoon’s attention.

Sunghoon tilted his head towards you. “Just our little y/n over there, trying to play it cool but she looks pretty annoyed.”

Jake let out a small chuckle. “She always looks annoyed these days.”

“I mean, can you blame her?” Sunghoon asked, “She always looks like she wants to murder someone.”

Jake chuckled and nodded. “Agreed. She’s just naturally bitchy, I guess.”

Heeseung, however, was still quietly watching you. His eyes never left your figure as you continued on to your locker and began to open it.

“She's hot though.” Jake commented. “I'd ask her out if it didn't seem like she'd tear my head off.”

Sunghoon laughed. “She's out of your league anyways, man.” he teased.

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want,” he replied, jokingly punching Sunghoon’s arm. “I know she’s out of *both* our leagues.”

“Is there even any guy that she likes?” Sunghoon wondered aloud. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen her hanging out with a guy.”

Heeseung's gaze flicked over to Sunghoon at the question, a small knowing smirk playing at his lips.

Jake looked over at Heeseung. “What about you?”

Heeseung’s smirk grew slightly at the question and he shrugged nonchalantly. “What about me?” he replied, his tone nonchalant.

Jake’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you like her.” he said in disbelief.

“I never said I did,” replied Heeseung, still maintaining his casual demeanor.

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You didn’t deny it either though…” he pointed out, giving Heeseung a look.

“You know me better than that, don’t you?” Heeseung said, shooting Sunghoon a mocking look and rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, she’s got a nice body and she’s pretty, but she’s got the personality of a cactus. I’m not *that* masochistic.”

Sunghoon and Jake both chuckled at his response.

“Damn, man, that was a good one.” Sunghoon commented, lightly slapping Heeseung’s shoulder. “You’re right though, she’s probably not worth the headache.”

Heeseung pushed himself off of the locker he was leaning against and took a step forward, still keeping his eyes on you. “You know, there’s actually something I wanted to tell you two.” he spoke casually.

Sunghoon and Jake exchanged a curious glance before looking back at Heeseung. “What is it?” Sunghoon inquired.

Heeseung shifted his stance, his hands now in the pockets of his pants. “Well, I’ve been seeing y/n.” he replied, a small smirk dancing on his lips.

Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what?” he exclaimed, clearly not expecting that answer.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, let out a scoff of disbelief. “You’re joking, right? There’s no way you and her are a thing. She hates your guts!”

Heeseung chuckled at Sunghoon's reaction. “I’m dead serious, though.”

Jake still looked like he was processing the information. “But..how is that even possible? You guys have hated each other for three years now!”

“Things change, I guess…” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “We actually started talking a few weeks back and… well, started spending more time together. She’s not as bitchy as I thought she’d be.” he added, a smirk on his face.

Out of the blue, the question left Jake's lips, curiosity getting the better of him. "Have you guys... you know, fucked?"

Sunghoon burst out laughing and playfully slapped Jake on the back of the head. “Don’t ask him that, man!”

Heeseung rolled his eyes at Jake’s question, but a small smirk tugged at his lips nonetheless. “What, you want details?” he teased.

Jake’s expression turned sheepish. “No, no, I was just wondering.” he quickly retorted, his cheeks turning a hint of pink. “It’s just…I never thought something like that would actually happen between you two.”

“Yeah well, it did...” Heeseung replied, his smirk growing into a full-on grin. “And just wait until you see how different she is when it’s just the two of us.” he added, the hint of pride evident in his tone.

Heeseung fished out his phone from his pocket and typed a quick message to you, sending it off.

*‘Meet me in the janitor’s closet on the third floor during lunch. I need to talk to you.’*

As he put his phone back in his pocket, Sunghoon noticed the screen and raised an eyebrow. “Texting y/n?” he asked, with a mocking tone.

Heeseung rolled his eyes again. “You’re damn observant, aren’t you?” he retorted sarcastically. “Yeah, just asked her to meet me later during lunch.”

Jake, never one to back down from teasing his friend, proposed, "Why don't you bring her to eat with us? We want to get to know your 'girlfriend' better, at least that's what you're telling us... But let's be real, no one truly believes that you two are actually together." Sunghoon, equally skeptical as Jake, nodded in agreement.

Everyone was well aware of the animosity between the two popular students, Heeseung and y/n. Jake's and Sunghoon's doubts about their supposed relationship echoed what many others had assumed.

Heeseung rolled his eyes at both of their teasing comments. “Alright, alright, settle down.” he replied, a small smirk on his face. “I’ll ask her, but I can’t promise what her reaction will be.”

You responded firmly, steadfast in your refusal. "Absolutely not," you shook your head vehemently, your expression reflecting your firm rejection. "I'm already enduring the farce of pretending to like you, and there's no chance I'm subjecting myself to lunch with you, let alone two others who are practically copy and pastes of you!"

Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh, feigning disappointment. “Aww, come on, you’re no fun.” he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You’re gonna have to meet them eventually, so you may as well do it sooner rather than later.”

Heeseung watched as you began to protest and couldn’t help but smile to himself at your stubbornness. “Come on, it’s just lunch. I’m sure you can handle it.” he persuaded, taking a step closer to you.

You internally grappled with the idea. It's just three more months, you told yourself. Can I really endure him? With a reluctant sigh, you finally relented, "Fine, I suppose it won’t be too bad."

Heeseung hid a triumphant smirk as he heard you finally cave. “That’s my girl.” he teased, stepping forward again and gently lifting your chin with his index finger.

Your body involuntarily tensed up as the sound of his voice echoed in your mind. "That's my girl…" The phrase played on a loop, causing a ripple of unease to ripple through you as you trailed alongside Heeseung towards the table where his friends awaited.

Jake and Sunghoon, who were still sitting at the table, looked up as the two of you approached. Jake’s eyes widened with surprise as he actually saw you walking next to Heeseung, while Sunghoon simply raised an eyebrow skeptically, silently questioning if the sight was real.

Heeseung placed his hand on the small of your back as you approached the table, a smirk on his face. “y/n, meet Sunghoon and Jake. Sunghoon, Jake, y/n.” he said casually, pulling out a chair for you to sit.

Sunghoon and Jake could only stare up at you, still trying to process the fact that Heeseung’s supposed ‘girlfriend’ was actually here and sitting right in front of them. Jake’s mouth was hung open slightly and Sunghoon just silently studied your features.

Heeseung noticed the boys’ awestruck expressions and let out a low chuckle, pushing your chair in as you sat. “Boys, quit staring like that. You’re making her uncomfortable.” he teased, taking a seat next to you.

Heeseung's attempt at making it seem like he cared fell flat, met with your sharp retort. "It's alright, Heeseung," you bit back, irritation lacing your words. "Save your pity, I don't need it." The tension between you two was palpable, and it was undeniable to anyone observing the situation.

Heeseung let out a scoff at the sharpness in your tone, an annoyed smile on his face. He reached beneath the table and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly, a silent warning for you to keep up the act.

Sunghoon and Jake noticed the subtle interaction between the two of you and exchanged a glance. Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed as he watched Heeseung’s hand rest on your thigh, while a smirk tugged at Jake’s lips.

“Are you sure this isn’t just some elaborate prank?” Sunghoon finally spoke up, his eyes still fixed on Heeseung’s hand on your thigh.

Heeseung chuckled in response, his hand squeezing your thigh once more in warning. “I can assure you, this is real.” he replied, his eyes challenging Sunghoon to question him further.

Jake’s smirk grew wider at Heeseung’s response and he leaned forward slightly. “But the real question is, how’d you manage to pull *her* of all people?” he asked, referring to you with a nod of his head.

"I'm not some toy you can toss around." Your words were sharp and biting, a steely edge to your voice as you fixed a defiant glare on Jake. "I have my own mind, my own thoughts and feelings. I'm not some plaything for you to manipulate."

Heeseung’s grip on your thigh tightened slightly in warning, but his smile never wavered. “Damn, you’re feisty. I like it.” he commented casually, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You internally seethed, feeling the weight of the situation settling upon you. Could you truly maintain this act for three months, with everyone watching? Yes, you'd harbored a secret crush on Heeseung before the whole fiasco with the vomiting video, and seeing him present a facade of affection towards you now only made you feel like gagging.

Sunghoon noticed the tension between the two of you yet again and chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head. “I still don’t believe it.” he commented, the skepticism obvious in his tone.

Heeseung rolled his eyes in response to Sunghoon, his hand still resting on your thigh. “I already told you, it’s real. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” he replied, his gaze challenging Sunghoon to dispute his words.

“Sit here y/n,” Heeseung said, a commanding gesture. Heeseung patted his lap and motioned for you to take a seat on it. Seemingly unfazed by the fact that it was in the middle of the school day and they had an audience in the form of his friends.

Your eyes widened slightly at his direct instruction, your mind racing with thoughts of how ridiculous the situation was. Did he really expect you to just sit on his lap like it was normal?

Sunghoon and Jake, on the other hand, watched eagerly, expecting you to refuse the demeaning act.

Heeseung’s smirk grew wider as he saw your eyes widen, a silent challenge in them as he patted his lap once more. “Come on, it’s not that difficult. Just sit like the good girl you are.” he urged casually, as if it was completely normal for someone like you to sit in his lap.

Jake and Sunghoon couldn’t hold back their laughter any longer and broke into a fit of chuckles. “Yeah, come on, good girl.” Jake mocked, clearly enjoying seeing you squirm under Heeseung’s command.

You reluctantly rose to your feet, shooting Jake a withering glare before complying. You perched yourself awkwardly on Heeseung's lap, your expression a mixture of resignation and annoyance, silently praying that this moment would pass quickly.

Heeseung, however, didn't miss the silent pleading in your eyes. As soon as you sat down, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer, his grip just a little tighter than was necessary.

Jake's chuckle turned into a genuine laugh as he saw the way Heeseung manhandled you into sitting on his lap. "Damn, she really is your good girl, huh?" he teased.

Heeseung shot Jake a warning glare, not appreciating his taunting tone. "Shut it." he replied, his voice stern. But a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he pulled you even closer, his hand resting on your hip.

Sunghoon, who had been quietly observant during the whole scene, rolled his eyes at Heeseung's display. "Possessive, much?" he muttered under his breath, but not quietly enough for you to miss the comment.

Heeseung's eyes narrowed at Sunghoon's snide remark, but he didn't respond. Instead, he slid his hand slightly higher up your thigh, his touch deliberate and possessive.

Before you could stand up, Heeseung's firm grip on your waist halted your movements. He issued a direct statement, "Let's skip class." Your eyes widened in disbelief, the words ringing in your ears. "Skip class?" you echoed, shocked at the audacity of his suggestion.

Heeseung just smirked in response, his demeanor unapologetic. "Yeah, skip class. I want to spend some time alone with my *girlfriend*." he retorted arrogantly, the word 'girlfriend' dripping with sarcasm.

Heeseung, surprised, suggested skipping class, and you admitted, "I've never done that before." The thought of ditching school alarmed you, as it was a departure from your usual disciplined routine.

Heeseung chuckled at your confession, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Never? Really?" he teased, his hand still resting on your thigh. "You're missing out, it's freeing. Come on, live a little."

With a sarcastic tone, you retorted, "And yet you act like a high school dropout," before reluctantly agreeing to skip class for the remainder of the day.

Heeseung rolled his eyes at your sarcastic remark but didn’t deny it. “Damn, you’re a smartass.” he chuckled, amused by your attitude. “I can’t wait to have you to myself for the rest of the day.”

He glanced over to Sunghoon and Jake, who were watching the interaction intently. "We're skipping the rest of the day. Don't try to stop us." he informed them, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jake smirked and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Damn, you’re really getting serious. Go have your alone time with her.” he jeered, clearly enjoying seeing Heeseung so possessive over you.

Sunghoon just rolled his eyes, but wisely didn't comment on the situation. He just observed silently, his eyes flickering between you and Heeseung, studying your every move.

Heeseung just chuckled in response to Jake’s comment before turning his attention back to you. "Let's go." he said, gently squeezing your thigh before patting it, signaling for you to stand up.

You reluctantly obeyed, standing up from his lap and silently vowing to stay as far away from him as possible. Heeseung rose from his seat, grabbing his bag in the process, and made his way over to you. Without warning, he slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side.

Jake and Sunghoon chuckled again at his possessive gesture, clearly enjoying the show. “You two lovebirds have fun.” Jake called out with a smirk.

Heeseung just rolled his eyes at Jake’s comment and led you towards the exit, his arm still firmly around your shoulders. As you both left the cafeteria, he pulled you a little closer and whispered in your ear, “Don’t you dare try to run off on me.”

You gritted your teeth at his warning but didn’t respond, knowing that it would only lead to more trouble. You allowed him to guide you out of the school building, your thoughts racing with a million different escape plans.

Once you both were outside, Heeseung turned to you, a smirk on his face. “Now, I have a proposal for you. We have several options for how to spend the rest of the day, but I’ll let you choose.”

He paused for a moment, studying you silently, before continuing. “We can go get some food, maybe do a little shopping, or…” he trailed off, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “We can do whatever you want. But on one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently bracing yourself for whatever condition he was about to set. “What is it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

He chuckled at your cautious tone before stepping closer, his hand moving to rest on your hip. “All I want is your undivided attention. No trying to run away or ignoring me. You’ll have to stick with me for the rest of the day and do whatever I say.” he replied, his voice dripping with authority.

You agreed, albeit hesitantly, with a slow nod. "Alright, I suppose I can do that..." you murmured, before changing the subject. "Speaking of which, when are we supposed to meet your parents? This whole fake dating charade is meant to convince them that you're in a relationship, right?"

Heeseung chuckled and nodded at your question. "Yeah, you're right. We'll have to convince my parents at some point. But don’t worry, we have some time before that. They’re away on a business trip right now, so we don’t need to worry about them just yet."

Surprise washed over you at Heeseung's revelation. "Business trip?!" you exclaimed. "Then why are we going through the motions of being all lovey-dovey if your parents are out of town for business?"

Heeseung smirked at your outburst before answering your question. "Because, my dear fake girlfriend, it's better to start early." he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We can’t just suddenly be all lovey-dovey once they come back. We need to make it believable."

Internalized frustration simmered within you as you emitted a sigh of resignation. "I just want to go home," you confessed, your weariness evident in your exhausted tone.

Heeseung chuckled, clearly amused by your predicament. "Ah-ah, no going home. You agreed to spend the rest of the day with me, remember?" he reminded you, his hand gripping your hip a little tighter.

A mumbled invitation escaped your lips, "You can come over, I suppose..." Though your words were delivered indifferently, a hint of reluctance crept into your tone.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow at the half-hearted invitation, a smirk plastered on his face. "Oh? You're actually letting me come over? I almost feel special." he teased, a hint of mockery in his voice.

He took a small step closer to you, his grip on your hip still firm. "But I get to decide what we do at your place, got it? No arguments, no complaints. You'll be a good girl and do as I say." he told you, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Heeseung’s smirk only grew wider as he saw the resignation etched on your face. He knew you didn’t want him anywhere near your home, but you didn’t have a choice. "Great, then it’s decided. We’re going to your place." he stated before grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

As you guys walked to your home, Heeseung occasionally glanced over at you. Your expression was a mixture of resignation and annoyance, and he couldn’t help but find it amusing. He found it hilariously ironic that the person he had always hated was now stuck with him for the rest of the day.

Once they arrived at your house, Heeseung immediately made himself at home. He kicked off his shoes and made his way to the living room, flopping down on the couch with a sense of entitlement. He patted the spot next to him, signaling for you to join him.

Annoyance flickered across your face as you observed his lackadaisical approach to removing his shoes. Irritated, you placed his shoes neatly by the entrance before proceeding to take off your own.

Heeseung had been watching you as you took off your shoes, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your particularity. “Ever the neat freak, huh?” he teased, a smirk on his face.

He patted the spot next to him again, his smirk never faltering. “Come on, sit down. I don’t bite.” he quipped, clearly enjoying seeing you out of your comfort zone.

You hesitantly made your way towards the couch and sat down next to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance. Heeseung just chuckled at your attempt to maintain space and grabbed your arm, pulling you closer until you were flush against his side.

"Ah-ah, no escaping from me now." he teased, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, trapping you against him. He leaned back against the couch, clearly satisfied with your discomfort.

"Now, since we have a few hours to kill, I have a few ideas on how we can spend our time." he said, his hand idly stroking your shoulder.

Frustration crept into your voice as you snapped at him, your cheeks tinged with red. "Enough, already!" you exclaimed. "There's no one around; you don't need to keep up the act."

Heeseung just chuckled at your outburst, his smirk growing wider. "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he taunted, his hand moving up to gently caress your cheek. "Besides, I like seeing you all flustered and uncomfortable."

He leaned closer, his breath fanning against your ear. "And who knows, maybe I just enjoy having you this close to me." he teased, his tone low and sultry.

His hand moved from your cheek to your hair, gently twirling a strand between his fingers. "You know, you're actually quite cute when you're all annoyed like this." he whispered, his voice laced with amusement.

He sat back against the couch, pulling you with him so you were practically laying on his chest. "But don't worry, we have the whole day to spend together. We'll have plenty of opportunities for me to drive you crazy."

Heeseung's hand continued to caress your hair, his touch strangely soothing. For a moment, he seemed almost gentle, his arrogance temporarily replaced by this unexpected tenderness.

But the moment was short-lived as his smirk returned, his voice dripping with arrogance again. "So, how about we watch a movie or something? I’m sure there's something on TV that'll keep us entertained for a bit."

He reached for the remote and flicked through the channels, eventually landing on a romantic comedy. He glanced down at you with a smirk. "King the land sounds good huh?."

As the movie played, Heeseung's hand never left your hair. He continued to absently toy with the strands, his attention half on the movie and half on teasing you.

Every now and then, he would drop a sarcastic comment about the movie, or make a snide remark about how the couple on screen reminded him of you and him. His touch remained light and almost comforting, a stark contrast to his usual obnoxious demeanor.

A mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of Heeseung's lips as he observed a scene playing out on the TV. "You know," he remarked, a hint of humor in his voice, "that actress kinda looks like you."

He glanced down at you, his hand still lazily caressing your hair. "Don’t worry, you're much cuter than her." he teased, a smirk still playing on his lips.

The situation was becoming unbearable. You reached your limit; you couldn't continue pretending to love him and enduring his touch. Frustration boiled over, and you abruptly stood up, your emotions taking control.

Heeseung's smirk faltered for a moment as you suddenly stood up. He hadn't expected such a sudden outburst from you. He leaned back on the couch, his head tilted to the side as he regarded you with intrigue.

The words erupted from you, a mix of anger and resignation. "I can't do this anymore!" you exclaimed, your hands clenching into tight fists as frustration surged through you. "The deal's off. It's over."

Heeseung's amused expression faded, replaced by a brief flicker of surprise. He had not expected you to concede so easily. He sat up on the couch, his eyes never leaving your face as he studied you silently.

Heeseung's surprise quickly turned into a smug grin, his arrogance fully returning. He stood up from the couch, casually making his way towards you. "Oh, come on now. You’re just giving up so easily? Where's the fight in you?”

Your true feelings finally burst forth, the pent-up emotions overflowing. "I just can't keep up this act anymore!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration. "Spending the entire day pretending that I don't loathe every second of being around you... it's too much!"

Heeseung chuckled, his arms now crossed lazily across his chest as he leaned back on the couch. "Loathe every second, huh?" he remarked, his voice dripping with smugness. "I can't say I'm surprised, considering how much you've always hated me."

A sarcastic scoff escaped your lips as you crossed your arms, a defiant look in your eyes. "Please, enlighten me, Heeseung," you retorted, your voice laced with irritation. "Why do you think I despise you so deeply?"

Heeseung's smirk widened as he reveled in your irritation. He chuckled softly before responding, his voice dripping with nonchalance. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because I uploaded that embarrassing video of you puking your brains out at that frat party back in our freshman year."

"That's exactly what I want to know!" you shot back, your anger and hurt seething beneath the surface. "What made you humiliate me that day? What prompted you to upload that video for everyone to see?"

Heeseung shrugged, his expression unrepentant. "It was just a silly prank, that’s all." he replied nonchalantly. "I didn’t think you’d take it so personally."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, and you stepped back, creating a physical distance between you and him. "Wow," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. "You really are a heartless jerk."

Heeseung’s smirk didn’t waver, and he took a step closer to you. "Oh c’mon, it’s not like it was the end of the world." he taunted. "Besides, it was pretty funny to see you all green-faced and puking your guts out.

A firm demand left your lips as you gestured towards the front door. "Get out," you directed, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Heeseung’s smirk faltered for a moment, his eyes narrowing at your firmness. He paused for a moment, his gaze locked on you, before a taunting smirk returned to his lips. "And what if I don’t want to?" he challenged, taking another step towards you.

“Then I'll call the cops and accuse you of harassing me!" Your eyes narrowed, your anger and determination evident.

Heeseung chuckled, his arms still crossed, not intimidated in the slightest. "And what makes you think anyone would believe you?" he countered, a hint of smugness in his voice.

Frustration and exhaustion consumed you, pushing you to the edge. "I'm done," you murmured, your voice filled with weariness as you retreated to your bedroom.

Heeseung's smirk faded as you retreated to your bedroom, leaving him standing alone in the living room. He watched the door close behind you, a flicker of something inexplicable crossing his face before he quickly masked it with his usual arrogance.

He stood there for a few moments, the silence deafening. He didn't know what to do next. He had expected you to cave in, to give him what he wanted. But he hadn't expected you to stand up to him, to outright kick him out. The look in your eyes had been different, more vulnerable, almost... hurt.

He gritted his teeth, his mind whirling with a mix of irritation and something else he couldn’t quite identify. He was not used to people not giving him what he wanted, and he hated that you had just stood up to him like that.

He considered knocking on your bedroom door, to go in there and confront you, to demand an explanation for your behavior. But something held him back. Maybe it was the memory of the hurt look in your eyes, or maybe it was his own ego refusing to stoop down to that level.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the inexplicable turmoil within him. He glanced around the living room for a moment, realizing that there wasn't anything else for him to do here. After a few moments of internal debate, he reluctantly made his way to the front door and let himself out.

—

The next few days were tense and awkward, as both of you avoided each other in the hallways and classes. The only interactions you had were brief glances filled with silent anger and resentment.

Heeseung's usual air of arrogance was even more pronounced, and he made no effort to hide his irritation whenever you happened to be in proximity to each other

Heeseung, leaning against a locker with a scowl on his face, is approached by Sunghoon and Jake as they walk up to him.

"Hey, what’s with the sour face?" Jake asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

Heeseung just grumbled and rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood to talk.

“Did you and y/n break up or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at you talk to a couple of your friends from far away.

Heeseung’s scowl deepened as he watched you interacting with your friends.

"Yeah, something like that," he muttered, his tone laced with irritation.

Sunghoon and Jake exchanged surprised glances after hearing Heeseung's words. They hadn’t expected that.

"Wait, seriously? You and y/n?" Sunghoon questioned, sounding skeptical.

Heeseung's jaw tightened as he remembered the incident that had started all of this. It was that stupid party three years ago that had caused him to upload that stupid video, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

"Yeah, we were supposed to be fake dating, but she just called it off."

Jake and Sunghoon looked surprised again, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Why did she call it off?" Jake inquired, curiosity piqued.

Heeseung grunted, his irritation resurfacing. "She said she couldn’t keep up the act any longer and that she despised me too much."

Sunghoon and Jake exchange surprised glances again.

"Damn," Sunghoon muttered. "I didn't know she hated you *that* much."

Jake chimed in, his tone serious. "I think you should apologize, dude," he stated bluntly. "What you did to her was messed up."

Heeseung rolled his eyes, his usual cockiness returning. "Why the hell would I apologize? She should be thanking me; her popularity skyrocketed after that whole puking incident blew up on social media."

"Are you kidding?" Jake retorted, his tone laced with disbelief. "You uploaded a video of her puking her guts out for the whole school to see, and you think she should thank you? Seriously?"

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, his expression unrepentant. "Hey, it’s not my fault if she can’t handle a little embarrassment. Besides, we were both drunk that night. She was drinking just as much as I was, if not more."

Sunghoon shook his head, disappointment evident in his eyes. "Man, you’ve really got some messed up ideas about what constitutes a ‘prank.’ You humiliated her, Heeseung. That’s not something you do to someone you care about, even if it’s fake dating. You need to apologize to her and make things right."

Heeseung let out an exasperated sigh, his irritation building. "First of all, I don’t care about her one bit. And second, why do I have to apologize when it was her own stupidity that got her into that situation in the first place? She’s the one who downed all those shots and ended up puking. Not my fault she can’t handle her alcohol.”

"Dude, that's completely irrelevant," Jake interjected, his voice firm. "It doesn’t matter how much she drank or how she ended up puking. What matters is that you deliberately chose to film her and upload it online, without her consent or knowledge, for hundreds of people to see. That’s a shitty thing to do, no matter how you spin it."

Heeseung let out another annoyed sigh as he looked at the disapproving faces of Sunghoon and Jake. He knew they were right, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Fine," he grumbled, his tone reluctant. "I’ll apologize. But I’m not going to enjoy it, and I’m not going to mean it."

Sunghoon and Jake nodded, but their expressions remained skeptical. They knew better than to get their hopes up.

"Good luck," Jake said, a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Heeseung shot him a glare but didn’t respond. He grumbled under his breath and walked away, making his way towards where he knew you would be.

He found you with a small group of friends, chatting and laughing. You hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, and for a moment, he paused, watching you from a distance. There was something about the way you smiled and laughed that tugged at some unknown part of him, but he quickly shook it off, reminding himself that he didn’t care about you.

He took a deep breath, mustering up his usual arrogant facade, and took a step forward, making his presence known. He cleared his throat, catching your attention.

You and your friends turned to look at him, your expression immediately turning cold the moment you saw him. You tried to suppress the anger and hurt that bubbled up inside you every time you laid eyes on him.

Heeseung’s heart clenched at the look on your face, but he quickly masked it with his usual cocky smirk. He stepped forward, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Hey, can we talk,” he began, his tone nonchalant, betraying none of the conflict within him.

You and your friends exchanged wary glances. It was unusual for Heeseung to ask to talk to you, especially in front of an audience. You felt an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach, but you couldn’t deny your curiosity. You nodded, reluctantly stepping away from your friends to talk to him.

Once you were a few steps away from your friends, far enough for them not to overhear the conversation, Heeseung spoke again. His voice had a hint of strain in it, as if he was forcing himself to speak.

"I need to talk to you about something," he said, his tone serious for once.

There was no room for discussion as you made your stance clear. "If you think you can just waltz up and apologize, forget it," you stated firmly. "I don't want to hear it."

Heeseung’s expression faltered for a moment, momentarily taken aback by your firmness. He hadn’t expected you to be this adamant, but he quickly recovered and masked his surprise with his usual haughty demeanor.

"Oh really," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You’re just going to reject my apology without even hearing me out?"

Your eyes rolled in annoyance. "You've got thirty seconds. That's all you get," you conceded, reluctantly granting him a brief opportunity to speak.

Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly at your ultimatum. He didn’t expect you to give him a chance to speak, but he wasn’t going to waste it. He took a step closer to you, his face suddenly serious as he looked into your eyes.

Without warning, Heeseung reached forward and grabbed your face, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips firmly against yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss.

Your eyes widened in surprise as he kissed you, the suddenness of his actions catching you off guard. Your body tensed involuntarily, the shock of the kiss coursing through your body. But as much as you despised him and his arrogance, your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat at the feel of his lips against yours.

A few students around them let out soft gasps and coos as they noticed the unexpected kiss. It was quite the sight to behold, especially considering the tension between the two of you that had been simmering for years.

Heeseung ignored the reactions of the people around them, his focus solely on you. When he finally pulled away, his eyes searched your face, trying to gauge your reaction.

You were still in shocked state and speechless, your mind still reeling from the unexpected kiss. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, your gaze firmly fixed on his face.

"Heeseung," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell was that?"

Heeseung let out a sigh, his hands dropping from your cheeks. He took a step back, giving you some space.

"It was my way of apologizing," he replied, his voice low. His gaze flicked over your face, watching your expression carefully. "And my way of making you listen to me for more than 30 seconds."

Your brows furrowed, your shock quickly turning into irritation. "Is that your idea of an apology?" you questioned, your voice laced with disbelief. "Kissing me without any warning or consent?"

Heeseung noticed the slight flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitched briefly during the kiss. Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by him, and a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You seemed to have enjoyed it, and you didn’t pull back,” he pointed out, a slight edge in his voice.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed that he had noticed your slight response to his unexpected kiss. You quickly composed yourself, trying to maintain a stern expression.

"That doesn’t matter," you retorted, your tone firm. "You can’t just kiss someone without their consent and call it an apology."

Heeseung watched as you tried to mask your reaction to the kiss, amused by your obvious effort. He took a step closer to you, his gaze locking onto yours.

"Oh really? Well then, should I give you another one?" he teased, his voice low and slightly seductive.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you found yourself unable to resist as you whispered a soft, almost reluctant, “Yes.”

A sly smirk tugged at Heeseung’s lips at your response, and he didn’t hesitate to step closer to you. His hands came up to cup your face again, his palms warm and firm against your skin.

Without another word, he leaned in and captured your lips in another kiss. Despite the initial surprise, your body responded instantly, and after a moment’s hesitation, you melted into the kiss, your lips moving against his in a surprising display of reluctant want.

“Ew-“ Jake and Sunghoon watched with a mix of shock and confusion as you abruptly ended the kiss as they appeared out of nowhere. "I thought you were supposed to apologize, not make out!" Jake exclaimed incredulously.

Heeseung pulled back, his expression a mixture of irritation and slight embarrassment at being caught by Jake and Sunghoon. He shot them a glare, annoyed at their interruption.

"We were in the middle of something," he retorted, his tone sharp.

Jake chuckled, a smirk on his face. "Yeah, we could see that," he commented, clearly amused by the situation.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, looked between you and Heeseung with a slight frown. "So, did he apologize or not?" he asked.

Heeseung let out an exasperated sigh, his irritation resurfacing. "I was trying to," he grumbled. "And then the situation got a bit... distracted."

Jake let out a snort of laughter as he glanced at you, your cheeks still tinged with color from the unexpected kiss.

Heeseung leaned down, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke in a low tone, ensuring his words were for your ears only.

"We’re not done yet," he murmured, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

Your face flushed with embarrassment as the new nickname slipped from your lips, a mix of surprise and reluctant endearment. "Stop it, Hee..." you protested, shoving him away gently.

Heeseung chuckled lowly at your reaction, his smirk only widening as he saw the blush on your cheeks. The nickname slipped out so naturally from your lips, and he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

"Nope, not a chance," he replied, his tone filled with amusement. "I like the sound of it. You’re stuck with it now."

—

Over the next few days, the school was abuzz with the talk of you and Heeseung's unexpected public display of affection. The kiss he had given you in front of everyone was the talk of the school, and his friends constantly teased him about it.

One evening, Heeseung couldn’t shake the feeling that you were avoiding him. After not seeing you in the halls after classes, he decided to look for you.

He searched the school and finally found you sitting by yourself in a secluded rooftop area, looking out into the darkening sky. Heeseung approached, footsteps soft against the gravel, and stood a few feet away from you.

"You’ve been avoiding me," he stated, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. He leaned against the fence, crossing his arms as he observed you from the corner of his eye.

You turned your head to look at him, your expression neutral. "So what if I have been?" you replied, your voice cool and even.

You turned your head to look at him, your expression neutral. "So what if I have been?" you replied, your voice cool and even.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened slightly at your nonchalant response. He hadn’t expected such an indifferent reaction from you, and it irritated him even more. He pushed off the fence and took a few steps towards you.

"Why are you avoiding me? Because of what I did?" he asked, his voice sharp. He was standing only a few feet away from you now, his eyes locked onto your face, trying to decipher your expression.

Frustration and hurt bubbled up within you, your voice tinged with pain. "After that kiss," you spoke, your words thick with emotion, "I actually believed that you might have feelings for me. But I see now that it's just another game to you, isn't it?"

Heeseung’s jaw tensed as you spoke, your raw emotional response catching him slightly off guard. He hadn’t expected you to believe that he had feelings for you, especially after all the years of animosity between you.

"It’s not a game," he managed to grind out, his voice laced with a hint of defensiveness.

He took a step closer to you, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "The kiss was genuine," he admitted, his gaze fixed on your face. "I didn’t do it just for fun or as part of some game."

He took another step closer, the gap between you now small. He reached out, his hand gently lifting your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

"It just happened," he said, his voice softer now. "I wasn’t planning on it, but I couldn’t help myself."

He studied your face, looking for any sign of your reaction. He was struggling to understand why he had acted so impulsively, why he'd wanted to kiss you so badly.

"You just... you looked so captivating in that moment," he mumbled, his voice low.

His hand was still under your chin, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. He realized how close he was to you now, his heart racing for some inexplicable reason.

"I just did it, without thinking," he murmured, his eyes intently fixed on yours. "And I don’t regret it."

Your voice trembled with vulnerability as you sought confirmation. "You don't...?” You whispered, desperate for reassurance, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Heeseung’s grip on your chin tightened slightly as he responded, his voice firm and unwavering.

"No," he said, his tone resolute. "I don’t regret it at all. It felt right."

He took another step closer, his body almost touching yours now. His eyes searched your face, his gaze intent.

"It felt right," he repeated, his voice softer now. His hand slowly slid from your chin down to your cheek, and he cupped your face gently, as if he was afraid you’d pull away.

Heeseung’s gaze held a hint of something—an emotion that you couldn’t quite place as he looked at you. He was still holding your face tenderly in his hand.

"Do you have plans tonight?" he asked, his voice soft. "I have some studying to do. Want to join me?"

A laugh threatened to slip from your lips at the surprising invitation. "You, studying? That's a first," you teased, your words filled with disbelief.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, a small smirk playing on his lips. He knew that he wasn’t exactly known for his diligent study habits, but he had some studying he needed to catch up on.

"Oh, shut up. I do study sometimes." he retorted, his tone light.

Heeseung's smirk widened as he picked up on your entendre, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He took a step closer, his body now nearly pressed against yours.

"Trust me, you'll enjoy this kind of studying," he murmured, his voice low.

With that, Heeseung leaned closer, his lips hovering only inches from yours. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and his pulse quickened.

He didn’t know what had gotten into him, but all he knew was that he wanted to be close to you, to feel your touch, to hear your voice. And right now, studying seemed like the perfect excuse to get what he wanted.

The nickname slipped from your lips once again, your voice tinted with unexpected familiarity. "Not right now, Hee," you echoed, the term of endearment rolling off your tongue almost effortlessly.

Heeseung's chest tightened at the sound of the nickname on your lips. It was just a slip up, a moment of weakness, but it sent a wave of something through him that he couldn’t explain.

He pushed closer, his body pressed against yours now. His hand moved from your face to your waist, holding you firmly against him.

"I think we should skip the studying," he murmured, his voice low. "I have something else in mind."

Heeseung pulled out his phone and typed something quickly into it before looking back up at you.

"Texted you my address," he said, his voice cool and casual. He took another step back before giving you a brief smirk. "Don’t be late."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing a little faster than before.

You stood there momentarily surprised, watching as Heeseung sauntered away. Your mind was still spinning from his sudden invitation, the unexpected nickname still lingering on your lips.

Without hesitating any longer, you fished out your phone from your pocket and saw the notification from Heeseung—his address. A part of you knew what he had in mind, and you couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you at the thought.

As you rode the bus to Heeseung’s place, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. It still felt unreal, the fact that you were on your way to your sworn enemy's home with who knows what kind of intentions.

The butterflies in your stomach were becoming more prominent, and you took deep breaths to still your heart. It was only a study session, nothing more. At least, it’s what you told yourself.

After a few more minutes, the bus came to a stop and you stepped off, looking around to make sure you were in the right place. You spotted Heeseung’s apartment building up ahead, and quickened your steps.

As you approached the door to his unit, you hesitated for a split second before knocking. The seconds ticked by, your heart rate increasing with each passing moment. Finally, the door opened, revealing Heeseung in a casual hoodie and sweatpants.

His gaze was intense, his eyes roaming over your figure in a way that made you feel even more flustered. He stepped aside wordlessly to let you in, and you walked past him into the apartment.

The air felt thick with tension, and you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves as you stood in his space, wondering what the night would bring.

His gaze sharpened as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering on your figure with an intensity that made your heart race.

“You're here,” he said as he closed the door behind you and locks it, the sound echoing in the silence of the mansion.

As soon as the door was locked, Heeseung turned to face you, his eyes dark with a fierce hunger. Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to grab the back of your neck and pulled you in for a forceful kiss.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer as he deepened the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips to claim your mouth entirely. He walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, pinning you there with his body.

"Fucking yell y/n,” he muttered, hooking his fingers in your waistband, tearing your pants down roughly as he kicked them aside along with your shoes.

He stepped back briefly to take in your half-naked form, his chest heaving. He then reached up to remove his own hoodie, revealing his chiseled torso.

His heart was pounding in his chest, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. The sight of you standing there, nearly naked, drove him wild. He closes the distance again, his calloused hands running rough against your skin.

“Heeseung, I-“ His movements suddenly still as your words reach his ears.

His eyes met yours intensely, a mix of emotion crossing his features - desire, possessiveness, and something more tender he didn’t want to acknowledge.

"Shut up," he whispered against your ear, his breath hot and heavy "Just..."

He hooked his arms under your thighs and lifts you up against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. He stepped out of his sweatpants, kicking them aside, leaving him in just his boxers.

Heeseung then pinned you against the wall, his hips pressing against yours intimately. You could feel his hard member poking at your thigh. "Tell me to stop," he whispered against your neck, his teeth nipping at your sensitive skin. "Say the words..." His hands trailed up your sides, his thumbs brushing against your breasts, making you let out a quiet gasp.

His breath catches at the sound of your desperate whimpers, feeling your nails digging into his back.

"Please..." you moaned, arching against him. "Heeseung... I can't..." His self-control is barely hanging by a thread as he listened to your pleading.

His control finally snapped at your pleading, and he captured your mouth in a brutal kiss, one hand tangling in your hair while the other slides between your legs. "Is this what you want?" he growled against your lips, touching you intimately through your underwear.

He broke away from your mouth just long enough to pull down your bra, exposing your breasts. His head dipped down, capturing one taut nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand continued its steady rhythm between your legs.

"Mmh, so good... Heeseung, please... more... " You gasped out, your head falling back against the wall as he sucked on your sensitive nipple, your hips bucking against his hand. "Inside... I need you inside..."

His chuckled is dark and husky as he hooked his fingers in your underwear, slowly dragging it down your legs. He kneeled down, spreading your thighs over his shoulders. "Lift up," he ordered, his breath hot against your most intimate area. “Wanna taste you princess..."

Heeseung pulled your hips closer, his tongue finding your center. He licked slowly, deliberately, savoring your sweet taste. "You're so wet for me..." he groaned, adding pressure, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. "Tell me... tell me how much you want it..."

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, maintaining eye contact as he continued his teasing movements with his tongue "Tell me..." he says, his voice is low and commanding "Tell me how bad you need my cock..."

He pushed one finger inside you, then another "This what you want?"

"Please... Heeseung, yes... I need you... your cock..." You whimpered, your hips involuntarily pressing against his fingers "I'm so close... please..." You're completely lost in pleasure, no longer caring about anything but his touch "Touch me..."

He removed his fingers, standing up and quickly unbuckling his belt. "Shut up and spread your legs." He demanded, pulling out his hard, thick cock. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight."

He positioned himself between your spread thighs, rubbing his thick head against your soaked folds teasingly "Heeseung... Please… want you to fill me up!”

He growled at the sound of his name falling from your lips in desperation, finally thrusting inside you without warning.

He filled you completely, stretching you out as he buried himself inside you. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs up against his chest as he pounded into you, hitting deep spots that made you scream and claw at his arms "Heeseung! To- to big!"

Shut up,” he hissed, his face a mask of concentration as he continued to pound into you, his hips slapping loudly against yours.

He wrapped his arms around your legs, pulling them over his shoulders, getting impossibly deeper as he continued to stretch you out.

He paused his thrusts, his face twisted in a cruel grin as he reached down and forced your mouth open.

"Take it." He spat into your mouth, the bitter taste of saliva mixing with his own saliva as he held your head in place, making sure you swallowed it. He groaned at the sight, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

You nodded your head in response, bucking your hips up, but he doesn’t move. “You didn’t answer my question princess.”

“I-I’m a good girl for you..” you muttered embarrassingly as Heeseung chuckled at your flustered expression.

He wiped his thumb across your lips, smearing his saliva mixed with yours "Taste good? Now open your legs wider. I'm not done with you yet,” He let out a low groan, thrusting deeper and harder, his body slapping against yours with force "You feel that?"

"Hnnngh... f-fuck... it's so deep..." You whined, your voice strained and high-pitched as he hits your deepest spots with every thrust. Your legs shook from the intensity, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and slight pain.

He smirked darkly at your whimpers, continuing to pound into you mercilessly "You're shaking already? I haven't even gotten started yet..." he teased, reaching up and pinches one of your nipples, twisting it slightly.

His free hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly as he continued to thrust into you. "You like it rough, don't you?" He hummed, his face inches from yours. His grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your air supply as he fucks you harder and deeper.

"Heeseung... mmph..!" you responded, too cock hungry to think straight. His hand tightened around your throat, cutting off most of your air as he continues to pound into you forcefully. "You're almost there, aren't you? Those pretty eyes are rolling back..." his voice dropped to a threatening whisper.

His free hand reached down between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it viciously as he continues to choke you. He looks into your bulging eyes, enjoying the sight of you struggling to breathe. "Look at me while I strangle you. You so good under me y/n…”

"Look at me... yeah... that's it...” he groaned, rubbing your clit faster while maintaining his grip on your throat, making sure your orgasm builds quickly "Cum for me... let me feel you squeeze my cock..." He groaned, his voice both demanding and seductive.

Aghh... c-can't... breathe..." You managed to choke out between gasps, your vision starting to blur at the edges. His fingers on your clit were driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge even as he cuts off your air supply. "Hnngh..."

Heeseung smirked at your breathless whimpers "Just give up... let go..." he said, his voice turning husky. "Cum all over my cock while I choke you... show me how much you want it..." His fingers sped up on your clit, putting more pressure.

His hand on your throat tightened even more, his fingers digging into your neck as he continued to rub your swollen, sensitive bud furiously. "You're getting close, aren't you?” he chuckled, your legs shaking as your nails dig into his back.

He finally relents, releasing his grip on your throat and letting you gasped for air as his other hand keeps rubbing your clit at a frantic pace. He leaned down to press his lips against yours, muffling your screams as he forced his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your cries of ecstasy.

Finally, he broke the kiss just in time to watch your face contort in pleasure as you hit your climax, his fingers still working your clit. "There we go... cum all over my cock like a good girl..." He praised deeply, continuing his thrusts as your inner walls clamped down on him.

Youd body shook uncontrollably as waves of pleasure washed over you, your eyes rolling back as you let out a silent scream. "Heeseung! Feels so good...!" You clawed at his back desperately, your nails digging deep into his skin as you rode out your intense orgasm.

He chuckled darkly, his fingers slowly pulling out of your hair and stroking your cheek tenderly as he continued to thrust in and out of you, drawing out your pleasure. "Shh, baby. You're gushing all over my lap. Look at me." He demanded softly.

You managed to open your eyes and look up at Heeseung, your face flushed and covered in sweat as you panted heavily, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Hee-seung..." You whispered his name, your voice hoarse from screaming.

After pulling out, he coated his fingers with your mixed fluids and brought them to your lips. "Taste how good you feel wrapped around my cock..." He commanded softly, but firmly.

"Take it all..." He maintained eye contact as you obeyed, slowly sliding his fingers into your mouth.

"Such a good girl..." He praised softly, watching as you dutifully cleaned his fingers. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss before pulling back. "So pretty..."

Heeseung studied your face closely, his expression unreadable. He was still coming down from the high of your encounter and was struggling to keep a poker face.

"Hey," he said finally, his voice low. "You're unusually quiet. Are you alright?"

You took in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I'm fine," you replied, but you still found yourself unable to meet his gaze. The aftermath of what had just happened had caught up to you, and you were struggling to process all the emotions coursing through you. But you were not ready to deal with that just yet.

"Just tired," you mumbled, shifting to sit up to put your clothes on, your legs wobbly from earlier.

Heeseung watched as you attempted to stand on shaky legs, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "You sure you don't need a hand there, princess?" he teased, pushing himself off the wall and heading over to you.

He grabbed your shirt that lay discarded on the ground and knelt down in front of you. He gently lifted your arms and slipped the shirt over your head, his touch surprisingly gentle. His hands lingered on your hips as he helped you pull the fabric down over your body.

Heeseung's unexpected act of pulling you into a tight embrace caught you off guard. "What are you doing, Hee?" you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.

He spoke softly, his head buried in the crook of your neck. "I realized I never gave you a proper apology," he murmured.

"I'm sorry, y/n." The genuineness in his voice was undeniable, his remorse palpable.

He pulled away slightly, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face. His eyes met yours and there was something different about his gaze, a vulnerability you'd never seen before. "I'm really sorry," he repeated, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

You were taken aback by the earnestness in his eyes, and for the first time, you felt as though he was laying himself bare before you.

"I..." You didn't know how to respond. You had never expected to hear anything like this from Heeseung, let alone this level of vulnerability. "I... I accept your apology," you mumbled softly, still processing everything.

Heeseung's shoulders seemed to drop in relief at your accepting his apology. His hands slid down from your face to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him again.

"That's a start," he said, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He leaned in, his forehead touching yours. "We've got a long way to go, you and I."

masterlist

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[hauntedhokage]

𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

summary: after getting ambushed while Dante was less than 100%, the solution to getting him strong enough to get you both out isn’t what you expected but you’re also not complaining

word count: 2.1k

warnings: unprotected sex, incorrect use of the term “heat” (Dante is still an idiot), I’m taking liberties with Dante’s anatomical capabilities and devil trigger, monsterfucking (basically?), size kink, devil trigger sex

read on ao3 | requests are open

You were trapped. 

The room had three windowless walls, and a fourth containing a heavy metal door that you’re sure was locked tightly. You’d check, but you were heeding Dante’s warning to keep your distance from it. Your only sources of light was a single wall sconce holding a candle and the moonlight that came through the skylight of the high glass ceiling. The glass ceiling that could’ve been your escape, but you’re not confident in just how high Dante could jump. That being said, you had seen him do plenty of weird superhuman shit so maybe there was a chance. 

“This is your fault,” you comment, looking around the room once more in what you know is a futile attempt. This really was Dante’s fault. 

Your usually overconfident lover had promised to protect you and keep you out of trouble, and did his best to do so, but the end result was you being locked in this room with him. There was the question of what had happened to him that he couldn’t fight back? He had some unreal superhuman strength that had come in clutch many times in the past, but he wasn’t able to. He definitely tried to fight back, but he’d been less than successful and your chances were diffidently lower. 

You weren’t a demon hunter; with no real combat training that made you useless with that massive sword Dante kept on him. Ebony and Ivory were a somewhat different story, since he’d been attentive enough to the target he’d put on your back to teach you how to shoot — just one though, not both at the same time. But your aim was garbage when your hand couldn’t stop shaking so you weren’t much help. 

Thus the small room that you can’t stop pacing while Dante sat slumped in the corner. 

“Why aren’t you—“

“I can’t.”

“Why can’t you—“ 

“The door is cursed,” he starts, finally raising his head to look at you. “We’re not getting out until that curse is lifted and I’m trying to figure out how to do it.”

When you got out of here you were going to need a more in-depth lesson on what the fuck it was Dante did for a living. Curses were not included in the original “I shoot demons and look hot doing it” crash course you’d gotten a couple months ago. You’d ask now, but he looked exhausted, eyelids heavy while he struggled to hold his head up to maintain your eye contact, and you were sure the additional distraction wouldn’t be helpful. 

“This is my fault, and I will make this up to you.”

“Can’t you use that fancy power you have and just punch the door? Or the ceiling?”

A weary sigh leaves him, his head falling back against the wall as you sidestep the large hand shaped figure that reached out for you when you got within four feet of the door. His warning to stop teasing the curse has you begrudgingly sliding down the wall to sit beside him, your head resting against his shoulder while his feet tap against the hardwood. 

He seemed…anxious, which was not normal for Dante. The usual confidence and strength was gone, replaced by an anxious energy that you didn’t know how to combat, and that scared you more than the situation you’d found yourself in. 

“Fancy power is out of commission for a few days, darlin’.”

“How so?” 

He shifts, prompting you to sit up so you could watch him wiggle out of his jacket. It’s then that you truly notice his current state; flushed cheeks accompanying the bags under his eyes and his shirt damp around the collar and sticking to his skin in a way you know can’t be comfortable. He looked sick, but still offered you the spot tucked into his side that you have to deny for his sake. 

“Dante what’s wrong?”

“I’m basically in heat.”

Demons did that? Even annoying half demons? 

“I don’t know what it’s actually called. I just know my body is hot and my cock is hard but if I tap into the demon powers I’Il likely lose control. Kinda like animals, I think?”

He's wrong, but this wasn’t the time to educate him on animal reproduction (that you weren’t an expert on either). 

“Do you have control when you use the fancy stuff?”

“Mostly run on instinct rather than a plan, but it never truly feels like my natural instinct — more like someone else has the controller.”

This information is a lot to process in your current situation, but the true processing could wait until you were out of this room. More important was getting out, and taking care of Dante however he needed to be able to help you get out of here.

“Why a few days?”

“Kinda like a cycle. I don’t get it, but I know I usually get myself off way more when I feel like this.”

“You use the fancy stuff to jerk off?”

“Sometimes it just happens.” He has the audacity to shrug. “Dick’s a little bigger and a bit more sensitive in that form.”

He did have a habit of being insatiable every few weeks, desperate to keep you close and keep himself inside you for as long as you could stand it. You’d assumed at first that it was somehow related to his work, made a close call in a fight or maybe someone who had gotten hurt (or worse) looked a bit too much like you for his comfort. After learning about the death of his mother and brother your assumption shifted to him perhaps being afraid of losing you every so often. To learn that the answer was that his biology made him that way was not what you were expecting but something you could deal with. 

Likely also something you could help with right now. 

“Let’s get your pants off then.”

“Huh?”

“We need to get out of here and you are the primary muscle. If I have to fuck some self control into you to get us out of here, then I’ll do it.”

His mouth hangs open as he stares at you, in disbelief at what you were offering. You’re sure you’d let him fuck you in worse locations, at least this room had no windows or gave outsiders a way of truly watching what you were doing — unlike the back corner of a bar, the alley behind the convenience store, the middle of his empty business, or any other semi-public area you’d let Dante have his way. But despite his disbelief he’s palming himself through his pants and you know he’s going to go along with your plan. 

“You’d do it for free.”

“I do you for free at least three times a week,” you remind, your hands unclasping his belt and then unfastening his jeans. “High stakes sex has a price though.”

“Saving your life should call us even.”

“If you hadn’t gotten us into this situation then maybe.”

“Touche, baby.” He chuckles, hissing when your hand makes contact with his erection but still managing a smirk in your direction. “Touche.”

You want to ask how much bigger he could possibly get, considering the girth standing at attention in your palm that twitches when your spit makes contact with the sensitive head. But you remember that he said his fancy power — his “Devil Trigger” — made him at least two feet taller among other modifications, so the question dies on the tip of your tongue before you voice it. You also know Dante wouldn’t give you a straight answer, either over exaggerating to make himself feel cooler or underplaying the size to make you feel better, so it was in your best interest not to ask and just experience it instead. 

“Gotta be inside you, baby,” he whispers, carefully pushing you onto your back and pushing at the skirt you wore. He wastes no time, pulling your panties to the side and dragging the tip between your slick folds. You were already so wet, the sticky sound echoing through the empty room. “I didn’t even get to touch you, baby. You like my cock that much?”

“S-shut up,” you whine, gently punching at his shoulder as he pushes the tip into your waiting cunt. 

But he was bigger than you were used to. 

It feels like you’re being torn open, something that you’d experienced the first time you’d had sex with Dante but never again since. The lack of preparation was manageable when he wasn’t fighting off this more demonic form but in this state you needed more. Your eyes shut tight, nails digging into his forearms with your tight grip. 

“D-Dante. Please, I-I need—“

“I’m almost in baby, takin’ me so well.” His whisper dances across your cheeks in hot breaths, wet lips kissing away the tears that bubbled along the seam of your eyelids as he thrusts the rest of his length in to the hilt.

Your body is immobilized beneath him, pinned to the ground by his larger frame. In any other setting you’d feel safe to have him caging you in like this, but instead you feel trapped. Your voice is gone, the breath knocked out of your lungs by the feeling of his cock rearranging your internal organs and lodging itself in the base of your esophagus. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re heaven,” he groans, forehead coming to rest against yours as he starts to move. The slow drag of his cock along your walls is torture, the veins much more prominent and threatening to pull your insides out if he wasn’t careful. 

“Gonna kill me.” Your whimper is met with his denial, a light “nonono” mumbled into your cheek as he sets a slow pace for fucking you. “Dante.”

“Gonna take care of you.” He’s still thrusting, still fucking, but kissing at your hot cheek and licking away the tears that stained your skin as he mumbles his promises. “Promise, baby, I promise. Need you to look at me.”

It’s a struggle to force your eyes open, but when you meet his gaze you’re captivated by what you see. Dante’s usually vibrant blue eyes had darkened, pupils blown but with a light that pierced through and into the depths of your own soul. It was inhuman, which was on brand given the way he was stretching you open around him and pinning you to the hard cement as he took what he needed from you. His forehead pressed to yours, his own eyes struggling to stay open amidst the pleasure you’re sure he’s feeling courtesy of the vice your pussy had created for his cock. 

The gradual comfort with adjusting to his size that you’d expected never comes; it actually feels like his cock is still growing, continuing to stretch you from within in ways you’d never thought possible. A punctuated thrust from your lover forces a strangled sound of discomfort from your throat, prompting soft cooing from him as he continues to fuck into you. 

“I know baby, I know. Takin’ me so well, like you were made for me.”

More like he’d carved a space for himself inside you, but this wasn’t the time to argue with him. Not when a pair of rough fingertips are circling your clit so gently and he’s cooing praise at you about how good you were and how much he loved you. The word “soulmate” is used, but you miss the whole context of the statement since it was difficult to hear him over your own wailing at the stimulation. His moans are less intelligible as he tries to hold out through your orgasm, you barely make out your name among a string of curses until he finally stills as warmth floods your core. One small thrust followed by a second push his seed deeper into you, the press of his lips kissing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You feel so full it’s overwhelming, and Dante continues to fuck his cum into you as your body relaxes into the concrete. 

He’s careful as he pulls out, moving inch by agonizing inch until finally he’s out and your body feels empty without him there. 

“You okay?”

“More than just ‘a bit bigger’, asshole,” you scold, finally forcing your eyes open to meet his gaze only to be met with an unfamiliar figure. The creature before you is still Dante, just larger. With stonier features and wings that cast a shadow over you. If this wasn’t your goofball boyfriend, you’d probably be scared. But it’s still Dante that’s pulling you into his massive frame, holding you tight to his chest as he stands. 

“But are you okay?” You nod into his chest,  “I’ll get us out of here, princess.”

“Y’know how to use those things?”

“A few self-taught crash courses and one or two crash landings so I’m basically a pro.” He’s holding you tighter, but you trust in him and his strength as his feet finally leave the ground. “Watch your head.”

[mylovingkiss]

. ݁ ˖ ⌗ 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 . . .ᐟ ´-

♯ . 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𓆩 ᰔᩚ 𓆪

# 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 : 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇-𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏

𝜗𝜚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : hi! first post yay. i haven’t written anything in like years so hopefully this isn’t terrible.

【 𝐒𝐅𝐖. ⊹₊⋆ ✉️ ྀི 】

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ he flirts like it’s game.

early on, it’s all one-liners and teasing grins. it’s part of dante—says it’s just his charm. but the second you turn his words back on him? that same smile falters. he pretends to shrug it off. but they’ll be in his mind for hours.

⤷ gets annoyingly competitive over everything.

“you blinked first.” “i killed more demons.” “okay? but i like you more.” he’s doing anything and everything but actually focusing.

⤷ tends to do your voice when he’s upset.

“‘dante, don’t touch that, it might explode,’” he mimics, then presses it anyway. if it does explode, he admits he might let you talk him out of dumb decisions in the future.

⤷ tries to teach you how to use ebony & ivory.

but gets distracted half-way only to show off. “like this—watch—cool, right?” leading to him firing six times into the air and missing the point entirely.

⤷ also tries to look (even more) cool mid-fight just because you’re watching.

does an unnecessary backflip off a wall. makes eye contact. pulls out a vogue of different combos. slices a demon in half. was there a purpose? well, no. but he did say people like this kind of stuff.

⤷ absolutely bullshits instructions when you ask for help.

“put the glowy thing there.”

“that one?”

“no, the other glowy one.”

if something breaks, he’ll blame the puzzle.

⤷ loves making bets you can’t win.

“if i beat him first, you owe me 20.”

“and if i win?”

“doubt it. i still get 20.”

⤷ hides behind furniture to jump-scare you.

most of the time it backfires since he doesn’t plan ahead. he either ends up getting hurt or cussed out. but he swears it was worth it.

⤷ quiets down after every patch-up.

he stares at your hands like they worked miracles he’s not used to—i mean, he always shrugs off wounds. they heal up fast so why waste your time on them?

he thinks the little bandaids on his already-healed skin are useless, but that doesn’t really stop the warm feeling from creeping in his heart.

⤷ pretends not to care what music you like.

“what the hell even is this?” he says while nodding along. and the next hour, you’ll catch him humming the perfect tune under his breath.

⤷ always wants to show you something.

a shortcut. a secret door. a demon skull that looks kinda funky. “come, look at this,” he says like a kid dragging you across his dreamland.

⤷ gets distracted watching you talk.

dante misses half the story. nods along like he’s listening. if you catch it and scold him about it. he just rolls his eyes and reciprocates you to continue. “i stopped listening when you opened your mouth. but go on.”

⤷ acts unimpressed by compliments but gets weirdly clingy after.

“you’re seriously calling me handsome? tell me something i don’t know.” he says. but five minutes later, he’s glued beside you—hoping you’d let him hear another one.

⤷ gifts you… ‘things’ like it’s romantic.

“found this bone shard. it glows. thought you’d like it.” he says, holding it out like a bouquet. and smiles when you actually take it.

⤷ …sometimes he isn’t sure how to deal with certain things.

so he pretends it doesn’t affect him.

you catch him looking at the amulet daily or so. and he pockets it fast, like it burned him. he cleans his blades. lubricates his guns. and doesn’t necessarily tell you what happened with vergil that day.

but if you get lucky, you’ll hear him mention his brother every now and then. subtle things like, “man, vergil would’ve liked this.” without bringing much attention to it.

⤷ he does a lot to fill the silence.

mostly nonsense, and white noise. humming random tunes, rambling about a fight that happened weeks ago. to him it’s less about what he’s saying, and more about what he’s trying not to think.

⤷ lets you win arguments just to hear you talk—again.

you think you’ve outsmarted him. following up with more words laced with a sweet tone of victory.

he thinks it’s cute, everybody wins. hooray.

⤷ shows you how to use the jukebox.

“you gotta finesse it,” he claims, smacking the side way harder than necessary. and somehow the music starts? “see? works every time.”

⤷ swears sharing his favorite meals with you is the apogee of romance.

you say you’re not craving a strawberry sundae. he buys you one anyway. and watches you eat it like it’s the most important part of his day.

⤷ starts carrying twice the amount of things—one for him, one for you.

you never asked him for it. one day he just tossed you a spare ammo clip, bandages, and a pocketed drink. “don’t say i never give you anything.”

⤷ asks for a bite of your food then nearly eats the entire thing.

“that wasn’t just a bite,” you retort. “oh, so a guy can’t be hungry anymore.” he mumbles.

⤷ he starts saying ‘we’ more.

“we should stop by the shop.” “we could grab dinner after.” “we’ll figure it out.” you don’t even notice it until it finally clicks. “we should open the place soon, no?”

the sweetest part, is that he doesn’t realize he does that.

⤷ tries to cook you breakfast some days.

there’s a chance you wake up with him setting off the smoke alarms. but others, you arrive to the kitchen with a pretty appetizing plate—which makes you question how much hours and how many utensils had to be sacrificed for it.

⤷ names the shop’s mouse after you.

you ask why. and he simply responds with, “little fella’s loud. stubborn. kinda cute. and won’t leave me alone.” he grins. “remind you of anyone?”

⤷ draws you two on the shop’s walls with permanent marker.

it’s so unbelievably childish.

just two fugly stick figures holding hands. one’s significantly taller and more detailed just to feed his ego. but he does it because he knows it’ll shy a laugh out of you. and if you tell him to stop? dante simply hands you a marker. “i own this place. you want in or not?”

⤷ gets genuinely offended if you don’t laugh at his jokes.

“wow. tough crowd. see, if i was really loved, you would’ve laughed.“

⤷ keeps fixing things in the shop and blaming you for them being broken.

“why was the fridge making that sound?” “it was fine until you leaned on it. weird.”

⤷ doesn’t let you give out compliments just because.

kind words to someone else? he’ll just slide between you two. no biggie. “wow, i look great today too, by the way.”

⤷ sometimes, late at night, he starts to say something and stops halfway.

you know it’s just his struggles holding him back from comfort. but you like nudge his leg with yours. and in a way, it kind of encourages him to continue. to let out some of the softest words that have ever graced his lips.

⤷ never calls it ‘dating.’

just says, “you and me? we’re a thing. a moment. kind of a situation—but not together.” because he doesn’t want to curse it.

losing you? he might as well let hell break loose. even though he’s too scared to admit it. you know why he does it. and your patience means the universe to him.

⤷ he still doesn’t say ‘i love you’ at all. but when he insinuates it? it melts you.

every time you leave the shop, he walks you to the door, kisses your temple, and says some sappy a remark between, “i don’t know what i’d do without you, so try to come back.”

⤷ just know when a special day for you two comes. he’ll pretend to forget.

birthdays, anniversaries, holidays. it’s a weird guilty pleasure of his.

seeing you so sad but trying to play it off like you aren’t really bothered by him forgetting.

you’ll take him out to his favorite place, buy him deserts, and sugary drinks. slay demons together (it’s the peak of romance), but he still wouldn’t get the clue. or that’s what he wants you to believe.

just know though, that later in the day, half-way through your nap, you will be surrounded by all of your favorite things. a bag of take-out. little gifts and tokens of his gratitude. and a roaming rain of praises and kisses the minute he sees your eyes flutter wake from the slumber.

“hey, sweet thing. don’t tell me you thought i forgot—what? okay, ouch.“

“no, no. see—all of this, it’s for you. money out of my pocket by the way. don’t worry, take the rest of today off. i’ll take care of the calls—just, no. i’ll find a way to pay the bills later.”

it’s so cheesy, he probably saw it on one of those romance movies you forced him to watch. but he really tries to be a good boyfriend. you’re the first he’s ever really trusted. might as well struggle with his firsts everything with the one person that hasn’t scarred him with any judgement.

⤷ one thing about dante though, is that he would never make a promise he can’t keep.

he meant it. the day he told you no matter how much destiny would try to shake him off you. he wouldn’t leave. regardless of how messy the job, how far the trip, how long the silence. he shows up. every time. coming back to hold you in his arms like you might be the most precious thing of his life.

【 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖. ⊹₊⋆ ✉️ ྀི 】

° his touch starts loose.

dante likes to think he knows what he’s doing. he lives in the blur between pretending and becoming.

his fingers trace the inside of your thigh, caressing your skin so tenderly, all while he’s talking about something else entirely.

it’s not to tease you, or pretend this doesn’t affect him. it does.

but because he can’t control a single muscle in his body when it comes to you, he needs to keep a distraction for him to be able to be the one giving and not receiving.

° everything flusters dante the second it’s about him.

call him yours, praise him, tell him how good he makes you feel.

kiss his neck, straddle his waist, lock his fingers between yours. and he’ll twitch like you lit a fuse. it’s a bit embarrassing for him to see himself act like this. chest rising with each breath and hips stuttering with any endearment. but he’s too stubborn to tell you he liked it.

° he rushes the first time.

dante is trying to learn. he won’t admit he’s inexperienced. his pride wouldn’t take that hit.

but it’s obvious. give him one kiss and he’s already pulling on the string of your panties.

he’s careless, greedy, clumsy. yet never forces anything.

if he feels you pull away he might tease, but he would give you all the space to breathe and clear your mind. you’re important—this moment too. and he wouldn’t dare mess it up.

° tries to hold back noise.

his jaw tightens. lips parted like he’s about to pry—but it never comes. he’s stubborn like that. he won’t moan unless you pull it out of him. won’t even breathe heavy unless your hips grind up first.

but when it slips out? it’s ragged. like he’s ashamed he even felt that much.

° favorites when you’re on top.

seated pretty in his lap, panty lace pushed aside, his length haloed by a thin layer of release.

he’ll pretend he’s handing you control. says things like, “set the pace this time.”

but the way his hands cup your waist, or how he presses into your skin like he’s anchoring himself to you… it gives him away. he loves having you handle him.

° says things without meaning to.

it’s not planned. sometimes awkward. definitely not suave for a smooth-talker. it slips when his hips stutter inside.

things like—“fuck, you feel good,” or worse—“don’t stop.”

he never remembers saying it. gods—he swears you’re making things up. but he takes note of it and maybe will try to be more vocal in the future.

° foreplay!

dante is a bitch. he never just slips in. what’s the fun in that? he ruts. let’s his head wet with your slick. drags down along your nerves. pressing closer to taunt your entrance.

he’s mean when he knows he has the upper hand. and he gets cocky.

cocky until it’s warm, and sweet, and right there. then it’s just instinct.

° he thinks about it often.

he feels ashamed, so ashamed actually. seeing you do casual acts that near innocence, but not being able to clear his own mind from the sins that lure it.

a cloudy gaze after a kiss, licking whipped cream off of your lips, or crouching down to pick something up.

he gets hard just remembering it.

° might have a thing for dry humping.

not as prepping. as a thing.

he’s lazy. if he’s feeling moody though, it’s what he settles with. and it eventually just became a preference.

his hips rolling into yours while both of you are still fully veiled, cherry kisses and praises.

the way you grind back and catch his gasps between your lips, one hand fisting the sheets like he’s going to come just from the friction alone. he lives for it.

° get’s so turned on when you cover his mouth.

you don’t even get to scold him. just gently pressuring your palm over his lips when he’s getting too loud.

he kisses your hand while it’s there—just quick, ludicrous kisses. he knows you get shy, you love shutting him up, and that only makes him crave it more.

⤷ “i love you.”

he won’t say it. not out loud.

but the way he looks at you while he’s still inside. every bit of hectic lust fading away. threading his fingers through the soft curves of your body he already knows by memory.

it shows everything he refuses to voice.

he’ll brush your hair back, lean down to kiss your forehead before resting it against his own. dante has never felt this close to someone before. he tends to lose them before he can.

but there is not a corner in earth he wouldn’t exorcize from hell’s grasp just to keep you safe.

⎯ׅ⎯⎯⎯⎯۪⎯⎯⎯ׅ⎯⎯ׂ⎯⎯ׅ⎯⎯⎯⎯ׅ⎯⎯⎯⎯ׅ⎯ׂ⎯⎯ׅ⎯⎯

© mylovingkiss. 2025 | feel free to request! but please don’t steal or translate any of my works! thank you ༝༚༝༚

[chvoswxtch]

let's play

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid

summary: sharing is caring, afterall.

warnings: once again, every single one of them. swearing, spencer whimpering, daddy hotch, derek morgan's blinding charming ass smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: the highly requested and anticipated sequel to slumber party has arrived. once again, there is no plot, bc none of you came here for that. you don't have to read part one to understand this installment, but it is highly encouraged. please enjoy this lil valentine's treat from me to you. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Before Hotch or Derek even had a chance to step foot into Spencer’s hotel room, Spencer had kicked it shut behind himself after ushering you inside. The two men exchanged looks of confusion, glancing between each other and the closed door in front of them. Derek held his bag by the handles over his shoulder in one hand, and when he went to twist the knob on the door, it was locked. He raised his fist to lightly knock against the door.

“Hey Reid-”

“Come back in an hour.”

Derek’s ebony brows instantly pinched together, and he tossed Hotch an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“What’d he just say?”

Hotch’s permanent scowl abruptly returned to his sharp features as he stepped forward, raising his fist to pound harshly against the door.

“Reid, open this door, now.”

“In an hour.”

Derek let out a scoff, dropping his bag onto the floor with a loud thud.

“What happened to sharing, pretty boy?”

“We will, in fifty-nine minutes.”

Spencer’s voice was somewhat muffled through the thickness of the door, and it sounded far away, like he was deeper inside the room. Before either of them could say another word, a loud moan suddenly sounded from inside that clearly belonged to you. Hotch clenched his jaw while Derek stepped forward with an expression of pure irritation.

“Reid, either you open this door, or I’m kicking it down so help me-”

Hotch placed his palm against Derek’s chest and gave a slight shake of his head. Without another word, Hotch reached into his pocket and produced a room key, and in one swipe, a click followed by a flashing green light signaled that the door was unlocked. Hotch twisted the knob and pushed the door open, stepping into the room with Derek hot on his heels. 

Spencer’s head perked up from between your thighs at the abrupt intrusion, his lips and chin already glistening with your arousal, and a concoction of puzzlement and vexation knit his brows together.

“How-”

Hotch held up his right hand with the key card nestled between his index and middle finger, arching one of his thick brows in a pointed expression.

“You think I don’t have a master key to each of my agent’s rooms for emergency purposes?”

While on his knees in front of the bed with his hands clamped firmly around your soft thighs, Spencer stared at the key in Hotch’s hand as if it had personally wronged him. He hadn’t planned for that. He had planned on having you all to himself for an hour before he had to share.

“Son of a bitch.”

Derek’s mouth instantly parted into an amused tooth bearing grin at Spencer’s outburst of realization, and he chuckled while crossing his arms over his chest, causing his light gray t-shirt to stretch over his firm chest and large biceps.

“Nothing like a pretty girl to slice that genius IQ right in half. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Raising up on your elbows on the bed, you glanced over at Derek with a faint smirk as you arched one of your brows in a teasing gesture.

“I don’t know what you’re getting cocky about. He’s the one with the eidetic memory of the female anatomy and what I like.”

“Oh it’s like that, huh? Do I need to remind you who in this room has the most practice with female anatomy? Cause I seem to remember you feeling pretty satisfied on the jet earlier.”

Slipping your hand down into the mess of light brown curls on top of Spencer’s head, you gave his hair a gentle tug to guide his mouth back to where you wanted it, a silent command he happily obliged. Feeling the warmth of Spencer’s wet tongue starting to glide slowly over your clit again, you laid back against the mattress once more and closed your eyes while a soft sigh emitted from your parted lips.

“A little refresher course never hurt anyone. Take a seat, boys. Dr. Reid is giving an oral presentation.”

Whatever argument Hotch or Derek had quickly died on their tongues as they became entranced watching Spencer sensually and slowly eat your pussy from his spot on his knees at the edge of the bed. The four of you had spent the past twelve hours since the jet landed making your rounds at the police station, visiting the scene of the crime, and the medical examiner’s office before Hotch finally decided it was time to check into the hotel. All of you were beyond exhausted, but none of you could stop thinking about what was going to happen the second the four of you were finally alone together.

There had been a buzzing energy surrounding the four of you since you stepped off the jet with the promise of more in the back of everyone’s minds.

As much as their hands were itching to touch you, Hotch and Derek couldn’t tear their eyes away from the enticing show taking place in front of them. The way your body writhed gently against the mattress, the rhythm of your hips rolling back and forth against Spencer’s face like a delicate ocean tide, the soft and hedonistic noises of pleasure that rose in volume and pitch as Spencer devoured you like a man on death row savoring his last meal.

“At least we found a way to shut him up.”

Hotch softly grinned at Derek’s quiet quip while reaching up to loosen the knot on his tie completely, slipping it from around his neck. 

“Silver lining. Help her get more comfortable, would you?”

Derek grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it carelessly behind himself. As soon as his belt was unbuckled, he kicked off his shoes and pushed his jeans down to his ankles to step out of them, leaving him in a white pair of briefs that were already bulging from his half hard cock.

“Way ahead of you.”

Taking a few steps over towards the large bed, Derek moved to sit on his knees right behind your head and leaned forward to grab the bottom of your dress that was bunched up around your hips. He pulled it upwards to slip it off of you, leaving you completely exposed. The cool temperature in the room quickly had your nipples rising to stiff peaks, and you shivered when Derek’s large and warm hands began to squeeze your breasts firmly. Letting your eyes flutter open, you stared up into Derek’s deep and warm chocolate brown eyes as he flashed you that charming grin that never failed to make you weak in the knees.

“Reid putting his mouth to good use?”

Sinking your top teeth into your bottom lip, you arched your back slightly off the mattress and moaned in response as Spencer trapped your clit between his soft lips and began to suck fervently. In return, you gave his hair a rough tug which had a moan of his own vibrating against your soaked cunt. The vibrations echoed throughout your trembling thighs, and your stomach felt tight with anticipation for what was coming, and what would follow afterwards.

Derek toyed with your sensitive nipples, alternating between flicking his thumbs over them, rolling them between his thumb and index finger, and pinching gently. He leaned over you, teasingly gliding his tongue in a languid circle around your hardened nub before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently, causing you to tug harder at Spencer’s unruly roots. The combination of the stimulation from Derek and Spencer was almost too much, and it had you barreling towards euphoria quickly.

Opening your eyes, you were immediately drawn to the sight of Hotch sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, watching intently while a haze of lust darkened his eyes to the deepest shade you had ever seen them. He was still fully dressed in his suit, but he held his tie tightly in his right hand, and a jolt of excitement rushed through your nervous system.

“Who’s that for?”

Hotch lifted his gaze from Spencer’s head between your thighs to meet your eyes, and a wicked smirk tugged at the edge of his mouth.

“Now if I told you, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

Oh.

Hotch was in the mood to play. 

The more comfortable the four of you got with your little arrangement, the more everyone started to see the real version of one another in the bedroom. Out of the three men, Hotch was by far the most dominant, and enjoyed being in complete control, which wasn’t really a surprise to anyone. But the fetishes that lurked beneath the surface did catch you off guard from time to time. 

Derek wasn’t too keen on being tied up, unless you talked him into it on rare occasions, so you and Spencer were usually the object of Hotch’s bondage fantasies. You didn’t realize you would enjoy being completely at someone else’s mercy so much, but with Hotch, you found it incredibly erotic. Everything he did was to maximize your pleasure. He may have liked being in control, but out of the three of them, he definitely took the cake for being a giver.

The second Spencer gently grazed his teeth over your sensitive clit, your orgasm unexpectedly crashed over you without warning, and your body seized up while repetitive cries of pleasure tore through your chest. Gripping the sheets so hard in your fists your knuckles turned stark white, you tried to weakly pull away from Spencer’s delectable assault on your overstimulated clit, but Derek held your hips down firmly so that Spencer could continue to ravenously collect every drop you had to offer. 

The line between pleasure and pain was beginning to blur, and relief only came when Hotch grabbed Spencer by his hair and tugged his head backwards before pulling him up to his feet. Spencer’s pupils were completely blown open with lust, and his lips were somewhat swollen as they glistened with the burst of gratification he had wrung from you. He was lightly panting trying to catch his own breath.

“That’s enough.”

“But I-”

“You get to fuck her when I say you can. Understood?”

Spencer’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, one of his physical tells that he was aroused and trying to contain himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded his head in silent obedience. The deep and calm tone of Hotch’s voice was laced with a delicate warning, letting all three of you know that there was no room for debate regarding who was in control tonight.

You didn’t call him “Daddy of the BAU” for nothing.

“Yes sir.”

Releasing his grip on Spencer’s hair, Hotch grabbed onto the back of his neck instead and pulled him in to kiss him deeply, swiping his tongue along Spencer’s bottom lip and biting it roughly while humming in appreciation at the taste of you that lingered. A low growl sounded from deep within Hotch’s chest as he let go of Spencer.

“Good boy. Get undressed and switch places with Morgan.”

While Derek and Spencer swapped places, you moved to sit up on wobbly knees, and Hotch stepped forward to capture your jaw in his large hand, his ring and pinky finger resting along your neck against your pulse point to feel the thrum of your pounding heartbeat. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip lightly, and a flash of pure lust eclipsed over his darkened eyes when you wrapped your lips around it and pressed your tongue firmly against the pad of his thumb. He bent down to where your noses were just barely an inch apart.

“Do you think you could handle two of us at once, sweetheart?”

Your eyes instantly lit up at the question. Normally they all took turns with you, or one fucked you while you sucked another off. You had only taken two of them at once twice before, and while it caused a lingering ache for the following days after, it was absolutely worth it. Nodding your head eagerly, Hotch let out a dark chuckle as a crooked grin split across his lips.

“Good girl.”

Tearing his gaze away, Hotch looked at Derek and tossed him the tie that was in his hand, gesturing with his head towards Spencer’s direction.

“I want his hands tied to the bed.”

Derek turned to look down at Spencer with an amused smirk, taking a step closer towards the edge of the bed as he straightened out the tie in his hands.

“You heard ‘em, pretty boy. Lemme see those hands.”

Spencer let out a whine of protest, turning his head to look at Hotch with a pleading expression, but Hotch gave a firm shake of his head while slipping his jacket off of his broad shoulders and down his arms. 

“You follow the rules, you get what you want. You act like a brat, you get treated like one. Next time, you open the door when I tell you to. Give Morgan your hands.”

While Derek slipped the fabric around Spencer’s wrists in an intricate labyrinth to bind them together and tied them to the headboard with Hotch’s tie, Hotch took his time unbuttoning his dress shirt. You watched over your shoulder as Derek expertly weaved the tie around Spencer’s wrists with a soft pout on your lips.

“Don’t think I forgot about you.”

Before you had a moment to process the sound of Hotch unbuckling his belt, he grabbed your hips and twisted your body around to face Spencer, and just as quickly pulled your arms behind your back. Grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands, Hotch slipped the leather of his belt around them to secure your wrists together tightly. Your lips parted in surprise while you gazed down at Spencer below you. His arms were raised above his head, wrists crossed one over the other and bound to the headboard by Hotch’s black tie, the pupils of his eyes blown so wide they nearly obscured the hazel ring of his irises.

Your eyes fell to the sight of his hard cock, fully erect and standing proud to attention, the swollen tip a deep shade of rose and glossed over with weeping arousal. You could see the muscles in his lower abdomen tighten as you noticed him very tenuously flexing his hips upwards against nothing in search of friction. 

“He looks pretty like this, doesn’t he?”

Hotch whispered lowly in your ear, the warmth of his breath against your delicate skin causing you to shudder in response and arch your back subtly. 

“Yes.”

“Tell him.”

Staring down directly into Spencer’s eyes, a soft whimper caught in your throat while a fresh tide of arousal leaked between your thighs.

“You look so pretty like this, Spence.”

Hotch’s rough hands firmly gripped onto your hips as he pressed his bare chest flush against your back. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your lower back, and you instinctively pushed your ass back against him which caused him to dig his blunt nails into your soft flesh.

“Behave.”

Hotch quietly hissed between clenched teeth. Brushing your hair off your bare shoulder, he nuzzled his nose against the column of your neck and took your earlobe between his teeth, biting down roughly before gliding his tongue along the shell of your ear. A quiet shuddering breath slipped past your lips, and you could feel Hotch grin against your neck.

“Now, listen closely. I want you to ride Spencer while I fuck you from behind, and I want you to open that pretty mouth nice and wide to take Derek’s cock. Understood?”

Derek reached out to cradle your jaw in his large hand, gently tugging your bottom lip down with his thumb as he leaned in and pressed a teasing kiss right beneath your ear, whispering in a sultry voice.

“Think you can handle that, baby girl?”

“She can handle it. She’s a good girl.”

Despite being bound to the bed, Spencer’s voice had a rough and somewhat dominant cadence to it as he spoke matter of factly. All three men shared a knowing look between each other before Hotch smacked his palm against your ass, drawing your attention back to the present with a soft gasp tearing from your lips, reminding you that he expected an answer. Swallowing thickly, you nodded eagerly in a breathless voice.

“Yes.”

Derek arched one of his onyx brows as he slipped his hand down from your jaw down to your throat, giving it a faint squeeze.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir.”

Derek’s lips parted into a dazzling proud grin. He slipped his hand down between your thighs, his index and middle finger experimentally slipping inside your soaked cunt while his thumb teasingly brushed over your sensitive clit. A sharp moan tore from your chest while you clamped your thighs around Derek’s hand, and his dark brown eyes flickered over your shoulder to give Hotch a slight nod of his head.

“Oh she’s more than ready.”

A whimper escaped your lips when Derek retracted his hand and lifted his fingers to his lips to lick them clean. Hotch lifted you up slightly to move you forward, causing you to straddle Spencer’s hips. Both of you let out a piercing whine as the head of his throbbing cock brushed against your pulsing clit, and as a deep chuckle rumbled in Hotch’s chest, you felt it vibrating against your back.

“Good. Then let’s play.”

Reaching down between you and Spencer, Derek wrapped his hands around the base of Spencer’s hard cock, which had Spencer hissing softly and lightly shifting his hips upwards. As Hotch gripped onto your hips and guided you forward, Derek assisted in aligning your body to help you slowly sink down on Spencer’s cock. Spencer had been watching earnestly, but as soon as your welcoming heat enveloped him completely and he bottomed out inside of you, his head fell back against the pillows as he let out a strangled moan, his jaw going slack and his eyes screwed shut. 

“Oh f-fuck…”

Spencer was by far the most vocal out of the three of them, and it always filled you with a rush of excitement being able to tear such alluring noises from his pretty mouth.

Giving you only a few seconds to adjust, Hotch placed his palm between your shoulder blades and pushed you forwards, causing you to lean over Spencer completely while Derek moved your hair away from your face. The only reason you hadn’t fallen over was because Hotch had a tight hold on the belt that was bound around your wrists, keeping you suspended in the exact position he wanted you in. Spitting into his palm, Hotch used his saliva as a lubricant to coat the length of his cock as he positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips slightly to make you arch your back and align your ass further up into the air.

“Take a deep breath for me, baby.”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, you dug your nails deeply into the skin of your palms in anticipation. Hotch reached around your body to strum his index and middle finger in quick circles over your clit, ripping a surprised moan from deep within your chest. Thanks to the orgasm Spencer had given you, your body was more relaxed, and your pussy was still slick with your release which made it easier for Hotch to join Spencer inside you. When you felt the blunt head of Hotch’s cock nudging against Spencer’s and slowly stretching you out inch by divine inch, your jaw became fully unhinged and your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head.

“Ohmygod-”

The voice that echoed from your throat didn’t even sound like it belonged to you. It was depleted of oxygen and came out in such a rush that your own ears had trouble unscrambling the words. The sound of Hotch letting out a guttural moan behind you sounded like thunder booming right in your ears. The serrated sting between your thighs was impossible to ignore as your spongy walls were stretched to accommodate them both, but the discomfort paled in comparison to the succulent fullness that you felt. Hotch continued to stimulate jolts of pleasure by strumming your clit with his index and middle fingers, trying to help your body to relax and adjust to the new and overwhelming intrusion. 

“Shh…there you go. Just breathe, baby girl.”

Derek was lovingly stroking his fingers through your hair while reminding you to perform such a basic subconscious action. As you struggled to suck in deep breaths, Spencer was impatiently thrusting his hips upwards in a slow rhythm, his biceps flexing while he tugged at the restraints on his wrist. Hotch gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you from falling on top of Spencer, his blunt nails leaving crescent shaped indentations on your soft hips. Once he felt the tension evaporate and your muscles loosening, he started to flex his hips forward to match Spencer’s delicate rhythm.

The composition of their conduction had your body swaying to the idle tempo they had silently established. Spencer and Hotch held you securely between their thighs, gliding back and forth over your delicate strings, coaxing legato notes of pleasure from your lips. 

Once Derek could see that you were completely relaxed and ready for more, he moved in closer and brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, a silent signal you instantly obeyed by parting your lips eagerly. A deep sigh of appreciation sounded from Derek’s chest when he slowly slipped his cock past your lips, and he gently traced his thumb along your cheekbone while you moaned at the feeling of his velvet weight caressing your tongue. 

This was the first time you had ever taken all three of them at once like this, and it was almost entirely too overwhelming. Every single one of your senses was overstimulated. 

Despite the three of them wearing starkly unique colognes, it was impossible to discern which smell belonged to who. Each of their scents perfectly mixed in with your own, creating one indistinguishable fragrance that enveloped you entirely and left you feeling intoxicated and light headed. Your skin was overheated already from the intensity of the moment, but also from the warmth that radiated naturally from each one of them; Hotch’s chest flush against your back, Derek’s palms caressing your cheeks, and Spencer’s thighs lightly smacking against your own. 

Even though your heart was pounding in your ears to the point of being deafening, you could hear the heavenly noises escaping each of them. Spencer was whimpering beneath you, begging for you to ride him harder. Derek was panting breathlessly above you, whispering softly how good you felt. Hotch was letting out deep growls and grunts as he moved behind you, demanding lowly in your ear that you take everything he was giving you.

The salty tang of Derek’s leaking arousal coated your tongue, but you could also still taste the roasted blonde espresso from Spencer’s lips and the fresh wintergreen mint that lingered on Hotch’s tongue. The pleasure was getting to be too much, and you couldn’t hardly keep your eyes open. You weren’t even on the brink of another orgasm yet, but there was already a firework show happening behind your eyelids. 

Something about this moment was so incredibly perfect, like this was where you all belonged. 

Together.

This wasn’t just about sex. It never had been. A piece of you had always belonged to each of them, and vice versa, ever since that first night in Vegas. There was just something about the four of you together that couldn’t be explained, but you all felt it every time you were with each other like this.

A single reaction from one of you set off a chain reaction for the rest of you. Hotch started to snap his hips in more powerful and precise thrusts, causing you to grind down harder on Spencer’s cock, and the vibrations of you moaning around Derek’s cock caused his own rhythm to become sloppy and falter when he began to fuck your face. 

The air in the hotel room was thick with heat and sweat like a sauna, and a cacophony of intermingled moans and grunts of satisfaction grew louder and louder the closer you all got to reaching a peak as grand as Everest. The second one of you jumped off the top to free fall, the rest of you would follow.

Spencer was the first to break. He was so far gone he couldn’t even get a warning out, but the second he released inside of you with a loud shout of your name, his spasming hips caused his pubic bone to bump against your clit repeatedly just right to set off your own orgasm. Hotch was fucking you relentlessly from behind as he chased his own high, and the contraction of your walls combined with the flood of yours and Spencer’s release made him double over as he grunted loudly, resting his forehead against your middle back while pumping his seed deeper and deeper within you. Derek was the last to fall apart. He let his head fall back while closing his eyes, his beautiful features twisted up in pure ecstasy as he let out a sensual moan while spilling down your throat.

The four of you were stuck together in a sweaty pile on the bed and no one wanted to move. Derek slowly slipped his softened cock from your lips so you could gasp for air, and he gently ran his fingers through your hair to help you calm down. Hotch did his best to carefully pull out, but the sudden movement had you crying out and tensing up. Hotch peppered gentle kisses along your shoulder blades, shushing you quietly while removing the leather restraint of his belt from your wrists and massaging them gently. Without him holding you up by your hips, you collapsed face first into Spencer’s chest.

When Derek freed Spencer’s wrists from the headboard, Spencer immediately wrapped his arms securely around your trembling frame and cradled your head against his chest. He didn’t dare move, letting himself soften inside of you as he held you there, pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss and delicately carding his fingers through your hair.

Each one of you were panting hard, trying to regain your bearings from such an intense experience, but they had catapulted you so far up into the clouds, you weren’t sure you could ever make it down. It felt as if you had stuck your finger into an outlet, sending an intense shock throughout your entire body, the lingering electricity still crackling with the faintest jolts of motion. Their voices were distant and muffled, like your head was underwater, and you couldn’t focus on anything except the blackness that pulled over the entire horizon behind your eyelids.

Moments later, something cold and wet was pressed against the back of your neck, causing a shiver to spread throughout your body. When your eyes lazily fluttered open, you were met with the dim light of the hotel room, and as you slowly lifted your head, Spencer began to come into focus in front of you. He was laying back against the pillows watching you, holding a washcloth soaked in cold water against the back of your neck while still slipping his fingers through your hair with his other hand. He gently wiped the washcloth over both of your heated cheeks and flashed you a dopey grin.

“Welcome back to Earth, pretty girl.”

A faint blush tinted your cheeks as you looked at him with a tired smile, humming softly while nuzzling into the warmth of his body as you hugged him. “Hi.”

Hearing the sweet and sleepy mumble from your lips, Spencer leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Hotch and Morgan went to grab us some dinner. They’ll be back in a bit. How are you feeling?”

“Sticky.”

Spencer erupted in laughter at the adorable pout on your lips, nodding as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face.

“There were a lot of bodily fluids being exchanged.”

“Okay, it sounds gross when you say it like that.”

“Is ‘you did have three guys come inside you at once’ better?”

Scrunching up your nose, you weakly lifted your hand to press your index finger against Spencer’s soft lips with a quiet laugh.

“Please shut up.”

Spencer chuckled as he pressed a soft kiss to your finger, tossing the wet washcloth onto the nightstand by the bed.

“Fine. How about a shower?”

“Too much standing.”

“A bath?”

Pretending to think it over, you eventually let out a soft exhale while gazing into Spencer’s hazel eyes with a teasing grin.

“Spencer Reid, you’re a genius.”

The edge of Spencer’s lips tugged upwards into a playful smirk, and he rolled his eyes at your lame joke. He moved to sit up, slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and his other around your waist so he could lift you up into his embrace to carry you towards the bathroom.

“So I’ve been told.”

tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejloveb0t @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @viscade @starsm00n @kenseverything @storiesofsvu @sabage101 @spiritofthewriter  @geeksareunique @urlocalgeek @avencol

[bittergoldeneyes]

-Life’s Sweetness-

Asaba Harumasa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Just fluff. A Valentines at the office. (Lol, and I’m 2 days, almost 3, late to the party)

Word Count: 3.5K

Valentine’s Day, a day where people showed their affections for others through chocolates, flowers, or other obnoxious gifts. It was a holiday to poach money from people to persuade them if they didn’t somehow buy a gift for their lovers, their significant other didn’t care as much. A random act of kindness was much sweeter than any chocolate given on Valentine’s Day due to tradition or obligation.

But… you weren’t completely immune to falling into the scheme of buying gifts for the people you care for. Something small, but meaningful. Eacpsilly for a certain ebony haired man that just so happened to be your deskmate and partner.

Your sneakers made barely any noise as you stepped lightly through the H.S.O. Headquarters. A small fabric bag full of gifts slung on your shoulder and applying pressure to the muscles of your back from how heavy it was. Stepping around a corner, you noticed most of the desks in the office were already full of gifts already. Numerous bundles of flowers, plushies, and sugary sweets.

A small smile etched across your lips, and you walked into the quiet office before coming around to observe your desk. The white surface was bare, not a single gift or sickly sweet in sight. It shouldn’t affect you much, you were probably the most unpopular out of Section 6. Many people, especially Harumasa’s fans, disliked the idea of you being a part of Section 6. It was as if the public viewed you as an average among elites. You were still a rookie after all, but you always seemed to work best with Harumasa, which is why you were paired as partners a little while after your transfer.

Ignoring the bareness of your desk, you stepped over to Harumasa’s desk, which was -as you had predicted- the fullest of any other members. His fans were… what we like to called “unhinged.” There were numerous letters, some of which you could see had numbers in them, some with pictures, and even some with paragraphs upon paragraphs, likely pouring their heart out in hopes to ignite some parasocial relationship with him that was never going to happen. Hell, there were even plushies and fan drawings of him in some of this pile!

With a shake of your head, you dig around in your fabric bag, finally finding the bottle you were searching for. You placed a bitter gourd juice on his desk and a small bar of 99% cocoa dark chocolate. It was a far shot getting a chocolate bar, but you only hoped he would at least try it, seeing as it was one of the most bitter chocolates out there. A warmth blossomed on your cheeks seeing your gift differing so dramatically from others, surely he’d get suspicious. He was observant like that after all.

You couldn’t spend much time reminiscing, or else you would take back your gifts out of utter embarrassment and fear of getting found out. Before anyone else arrived, you went around to the other members desks, placing personalized gifts on their desks, pausing at Yanagi’s which was just as similar as yours, almost completely empty save for a few cards or sweets that splotched the space of her desk.

Once Yanagi arrived, you had already started on everyone’s coffee. A cup already made specifically for her ready with her name written prettily on the thick plastic holder with sharpie.

“Oh, (Y/N). Good morning.” She gives you a small smile, a stack of papers and a folder neatly pressed against her chest in her arms. “You’re here early?”

“Oh, good morning, Yanagi. I decided to come early to make everyone’s coffee. Thought it would be a nice start to the day.” Your expression remained cool and neutral, not giving away that you had come early to give everyone gifts. You handed her the coffee, watching her take a satisfied sip before sighing in bliss.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” She says and places a gloved hand over your shoulder as a kind gesture of appreciation. Her glasses gleaming off the light of the lights above.

The other members of Section 6 filed in shortly after. Miyabi was practically drooling over the melon left on her desk, her eyes ignoring anything other than the voluptuous fruit. She wasted no time cutting into the juicy sphere and placing a slice into her watering mouth. Her ears shuddered in happiness, her eyes closing in bliss. Soukaku just devoured any snacks that sat on her desk, but especially enjoying the spicy snacks you had left her.

And last but not least, fashionably late as always, Asaba Harumasa. His slender frame walked through the entrance, his hands already crossed behind his head with a small yawn already leaving his mouth. Drowsiness blinked from his eyes as the glimmering gold of his eyes focused on the mountain of gifts and accessories laid practically covering his desk space.

“Oh? What��s all the fuss about? You shouldn’t have guys~” His lips tugged into a teasing grin, his frame shadowing behind you before he came to investigate the objects occupying his space. “Didn’t know I was so popular. It’s about ten or twenty gifts more than I got last year.”

Was he… seriously bragging right now?

“Well, ‘Mr. Popular’ your coffee is in the pot over there. Still warm.” You interject, pointing your finger over to the coffee machine, pure black coffee brewed to perfection from an intelligent machine sitting in the pot simmering.

“Awe~ just for me? I knew you liked me somewhere deep down!” His hands clasped together dramatically, bringing them to press against one of his cheeks while his mouth upturned into a wide appreciative smile. “You don’t seem as popular. Want some of my gifts? I’m not going to touch most of this just from a quick glance.”

“I want it!” Soukaku raised her hand wildly, sitting up from her desk.

“Hey! I was offering them to (Y/N) first!” Harumasa argued back, pouting as you beckoned Soukaku over without a seconds hesitation. “You know, now I’m starting to think you actually hate me…”

“Oh don’t be dramatic, Harumasa.” You scold lightly, rolling your eyes at his dramatics as you let Soukaku pick and choose what she wanted from Harumasa’s mountain of sweets and snacks. “I would much rather Soukaku enjoy them than me. I can always buy my own valentines stuff. I’ve done it before.”

Harumasa was oddly quiet after your comment, but you didn’t think too much about it.

Once Soukaku went back to her desk with a newfound spark of happiness with her newly acquired food, you sat back down with a sigh before looking at your thick stack of paperwork. Your fingers held your favorite pen loosely, wrist fluidly gliding over the wooden desk as you signed off and detailed your boring reports.

Every now and then, you would glance over at Harumasa. Of course, he wasn’t doing any paperwork whatsoever, and the due dates had long since past. His eyes were instead skimming through some of the obnoxious valentines gifts hoarding his space. A plethora of colorful expressions crossed his face, ranging from horror, disgust, and light hearted smiles. There was even one point he practically slammed a card closed with a red blush on his cheeks, obviously something he didn’t want to have seen or read.

After some time passed, Harumasa was shredding almost every card or picture he’d gotten. His fans really were unhinged. The only few he kept were either from kids or genuine words of appreciation and admiration from fans. Sugary sweet candies and chocolates were tossed in the trash, plushies given to Soukaku or if there was one of himself, offered to you with a flirtatiously teasing wink and a mischievous smile.

It was almost as if he had saved your gift especially for last. His gloved hands picked up the bitter chocolate you’d gotten him, inspecting it curiously before flipping it to the back to read more of the nutrition facts and ingredients. Curiosity got the better of him, and he decided to open the bar and break off a small piece of from the corner. The piece disappeared behind his soft plush pink lips, jaw moving slowly, savoring the bitter richness of the chocolate. A second piece was then broken off and slotted between his lips once more, his eyes closing in concentration.

And the ever clever mind of Asaba Harumasa was just that, clever.

He never really opened up much about himself, especially to the press or any fans or social media posts. He kept his personal life locked behind iron bars only few had the privilege of glimpsing inside. Section 6 was one of those privileged few, as well as the siblings that ran Random Play. It narrowed down his suspicions on who sent these gifts.

The letter gave you away.

‘May the bitter tastes and flavors make life feel sweeter. Your life deserves the sweetest things.’

How cheesy. Only you would think of something that cheesy and heartfelt to write in a card accompanied by gifts he would enjoy. The letter was signed by a straight line, precise and strict, almost as if you were drawing a line you didn’t dare want to cross no matter how much you or him edged it.

Harumasa didn’t acknowledge you for the gifts you’d gotten him, much more interested to see what you would do next. Would you admit you were the one who placed them there in the wee hours of dawn? Would you remain anonymous, treating him the same as always, but locking your heart tightly away in fears of having him slip through your fingers too soon as he eventually would.

The next day came similarly to the last. Gifts appeared on the desks of Section 6, all except for yours. Yanagi got an expensive bottle of her favorite hair product and a new sleeping mask for small breaks in the office. Miyabi got a multitude of new brushes for her woven scrolls and another melon, this time bigger and flavored a bit differently. Soukaku got some new art supplies for her doodles in the office and some stickers.

Lastly, Harumasa got a new choker, an ink stamp of his signature (ahem, for his lazy nature to help with paperwork), and an expensive leather archery glove, much better than his current one that looked worn and tattered at the edges. The choker was a smooth and crisp leather, narrowed slightly where his Adam’s apple would press flush against the material. A yellow gem sparkled under the light, shimmering a similar shade to his smoldering golden eyes.

“Oh, that looks nice, Asaba.” Yanagi comments, papers hugged to her chest per usual as she adjusted her glasses and looked over the gifts he’d gotten. “Someone clearly admires you strongly.”

“It seems that way.” Harumasa comments, looking over the gifts with a strangely conflicted yet heartfelt expression. His deft fingers toyed with the choker in his hands, running a smooth thumb over the expanse of the light leather inked black. “Did you get some too, Tsukishiro?”

“I did.” She answers swiftly. “Everyone’s gotten very unique gifts these past two days. I suspect it’s someone from the agency. They’re all very carefully selected for each of us.” Her glasses shine off the light as her dark pink eyes shifted to your empty desk. “The only one who hasn’t gotten one of these gifts is (Y/N). She has been arriving early these past few days.”

Harumasa shifted his gaze to your desk, clean and empty albeit a neatly stacked pile of papers and a picture sat diagonally to your computer of you, him, and the rest of Section 6. Your chair sat vacant, as it had for hours as you helped out a different section with their reports and management of files.

A frown etched onto his pale pink lips, dark ebony brows furrowing as he thought to himself. Now that he had confirmed to himself that it was you giving him and everyone else these personal gifts, he needed to get you something right? His conscious (and heart) wouldn’t let your kindness go unpaid. After all, the gifts you got weren’t cheap by any means.

You were too kind for your own good sometimes. Always taking care of his gruesome paperwork when he was on sick leave or just too tired or lazy to do it. Making his coffee in the morning along with any other member that hadn’t been there at the office yet. Giving away any of your food or medical supplies to Soukaku or him in hollows when you yourself needed those things too. And even now, helping another section get out of whatever mess they’ve caused themselves with their files.

The day before valentines was no different than the last two, gifts once more on everyone’s desks. Except there was one thing different. There were flowers on your desk. A small vase full of tulips, roses, carnations, and hydrangeas. It was something you weren’t expecting at all, but it wasn’t something unpleasant you didn’t welcome. The card attached to the thin transparent plastic piece read ‘Thanks for helping Section 4, I owe you one. Let me know what you want ;).’ The note had the second in command of Section 4’s phone number signed with a winking face and his name on it, very clearly implying he had taken an interest in courting you somehow.

Your cheeks blossomed with warmth after reading the small letter card attached to the bouquet. It was at this time, Harumasa walked in, earlier than normal he might add. His eyes were immediately drawn to the decently sized object obscuring your desk. Naturally, his sharp golden gaze didn’t miss the tint of pink coloring your cheeks, a foreign feeling twisting in his gut.

“Oh? Who’s this from? You got a secret admirer or somethin’?” Harumasa inquires, a faux smile on his face as he leaned over you to snatch up the card from the thin plastic stick. Despite your protest, he turned himself around from you to keep your arms at bay from snatching it back before he finished investigating. “The guy from Section 4? Heh, how cute, he even left you his number. Such a gentleman!”

His tone was bitter, almost as bitter as the medicine he pocketed in his mouth on a regular basis. The expression he was making didn’t match the intensity his eyes shown. A teasing grin pulled taut over his mouth, but his brows creased and twitching ever so slightly, golden irises having a darker glint in them than their normal mischievous shine. It didn’t help his stomach was knotting up more and more and his heart was beating firmer against his ribcage.

“Don’t be mean, Harumasa!” You finally pulled the card out of his strong gloved hands and fitted the card back between the thin flimsy plastic in the vase of flowers. “I don’t need him to owe me anything. I was just doing my job. I am appreciative of the gesture.”

“In that case, want me to walk down and tell him you won’t be calling him then? I’d be more than happy to do that for my wonderfully kind partner!” His attitude perked up, gloved hands coming to rub together evilly, eager to shoot down a man’s flirtatious gesture towards you. He did have a knack for pissing people off.

“That… won’t be necessary, thank you.” You replied wearily, confused by his sudden change in behavior. “Oh!” Your eyes flickered to his throat, a new choker adorning his slender neck. The yellow gem gleamed in the light, brightening up his already pale skin and accentuating the features of his neck. “That new choker looks really good on you, Harumasa.”

“You think so?” The way he smiles makes you regret even saying anything. He raises his right hand, his new archers glove wrapped snuggly around. His fingers trailed suggestively down his Adam’s apple, down to flick the small gem before trailing his fingers down to the edge of his buttoned shirt. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow his pretty fingers, and he seemed to know that. “It does doesn’t it? An admirer of mine got it for me~ I’m so lucky~”

“That you are, Harumasa.” Your smile faltered slightly, your cheeks flushing as you finally tore your gaze away from his neck and half exposed clavicle “it’s nice to be admired from time to time.” Your fingers reached out to gently run the pads of your fingers over the petals of some of the roses that sat in a small corner of your desk. “Lets you know that someone cares enough to show it to you through small acts of service. Or words of praise and appreciation. Or even gifts. Though I much prefer something like that on a random non-special day than a holiday or occasion.”

Harumasa listened to your words intently, liquid gold eyes watching your fingers tenderly touch the flowers another man had gotten you. The first gift you’d gotten for the upcoming Valentine’s day. His cheeks puffed into a pout, strong yet thin arms coming to cross over his tone chest.

When Valentine’s Day officially arrived, Harumasa came into the office on time, frankly a little early. An incredibly large and obnoxious bouquet of flowers in tow as he sat it on your desk loudly, startling you out of your focused daze of paperwork. It startled the other members of Secruon 6 too, especially Harumasa arriving early! The flowers took up practically the entire space in front of your desk! You didn’t even believe they made bouquets that big!

“H-Harumasa what is this?” You ask bewildered, eyeing all the pretty flowers perfectly arranged to accentuate all the species of flora in their own aspects. Roses were the most common among them, varying in color and size. “I-it’s so big!”

“Well, I couldn’t just let someone show me up in getting my partner a gift can I?” He replies proudly, triumphantly picking up the bouquet of flowers you received yesterday. “There’s no need for these anymore right? I’ll help you clear them out!”

Without giving you any time to protest he dropped the other flowers into the garbage can, a sly and victorious smile plastered over his face. It was then you noticed a small red ribbon clipped to his inky bangs, sparkly with a little cat pendant in the middle. His hands placed on his hips proudly, holding his nose high.

“Besides! Your best gift is right in front of you.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest, slender digits splaying over the expanse of his chest. “Having me as your ever so trustworthy, hardworking, dashing partner!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden change in behavior. He was acting like a child, exaggerating himself for your praise and favor. “H-Hey! I’m trying to be serious here!”

You adored the way a gentle pink dusted his pale cheeks, his arms instead coming to cross over his chest with his lips puckered in a kiddish pout. His gaze was averted, ebony locks slightly obscuring the visage of his golden eyes. A warm hand came into contact with the exposed flesh of his arm, making him jump, but soon relax once he realized that warmth was coming from you and your tender touch.

“Harumasa.” You say his name gently, sweetly, almost as if you were addressing him as your lover. You squeezed against his forearm lightly, a genuine and incredibly warm smile painting over your lips. “Thank you. I’m very lucky, to have a partner like you. I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Harumasa’s eyes widened, face exploding in blossoms of red that rivaled the roses on your desk. He pulled away from your touch quickly, coughing lightly before covering his mouth with a gloved hand, his other hand coming up to put some distance between the two of you.

“Ahem! Uh, it’s hot in here isn’t it? I’m going to grab some fresh air for maybe an hour or so, maybe I won’t even come back now that I think about it.” He turned on his heel, footsteps quick as he approached the entrance. His ears peeked out from beneath his dark hair, flushed just as red if not redder than his face. “Anyways! You guys got this without me, right? See ya!”

And just like that, Harumasa was gone. The office was quiet, everyone having witnessed the exchange between the two of you due to his boisterous entrance. Yanagi didn’t even try to stop him when he decided he was going to leave. You couldn’t help but think about what an odd, yet wonderful devoted companion he was. You truly were lucky to have him.

Your gaze suddenly caught the sight of a card nestled between some of the stems of the flowers, small and barely noticeable. Carefully extracting the card, you flipped it open carefully, Harumasa’s surprisingly neat and beautiful penmanship decorating the white paper. Your eyes widened slightly, a blush dusting over your cheeks before they closed with a shake of your head. You pocketed the card, a reminder to yourself to thank him. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach as you replayed the words written on the paper to yourself again.

‘Life is already sweet enough with you by my side. -Harumasa, your ever devoted partner ;3

“Done reading? Why don’t you take a break! Relax~ I’ll still be here when you come back.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 167 }

peaches.

husband!jinwoo sung x wife!fem.reader

{ i get the feeling, so i'm sure | hand in my hand because i'm yours | i can't, i can't pretend, i can't ignore you're right for me | don't think you wanna know just where i’ve been, oh… }

when you first married your husband all those years ago, you didn’t think that your life would turn into something extraordinary-

almost too extraordinary.

of course, jinwoo sung had always been the sweetest, most kindest man alive. upon meeting you in college, he had stolen your heart with that mysterious smile and strange, glowing eyes of his. the way his soft ebony locks of hair fell across his features along with the way his full lips was turned up in a sheepish grin was enough to steal your heart instantly.

when the man began courting you was when you realized that your lover could do things that many normal people couldn’t do.

for starters, he had a strange, dark aura that constantly surrounded him. those wispy shadows would catch your attention, and before your gaze could follow them for too long, jinwoo would grab your chin and distract you with a kiss-

(which unfortunately for you, worked every time.)

the more you spent your time with him, the more you began to realize that those same wisps that exuded from his form would ultimately surround you as well. you recall the first night you had seen them after working a late shift at the diner that was your job during that time. once you had clocked out and stepped into the cold, night air, you swore you saw something shift within your shadow. curious as to what it was, you step closer to one of the streetlights, hoping that it would further accentuate your shadow-

only to nearly scream when you saw what looked like five pairs of glowing, purple eyes looking back at you. after the realization, you gasped and took a step back, suddenly finding yourself in someone’s arms, jinwoo’s happy voice whispering within your ear.

“hello, my beloved treasure. are you ready to go home?”

your head was spinning, looking at him, then back at your shadow to see it return back to its slender shape, glowing eyes all gone as your head began to spin. swallowing thickly, you turn around to hide your face within his chest.

“hm, what’s wrong, sarang?”

“it’s nothing.”

maybe you were just tired, that’s all. you didn’t want to worry jinwoo and tell him how you saw glowing, purple eyes staring back at you.

perhaps you should take his advice and stop working such late shifts after all?

instead, you ignored those feelings of suspicion, simply cuddling closer to jinwoo as he walked back with you to your shared apartment (completely missing his sigh of relief when you didn’t bring up his soldiers seen in your shadow.)

you didn’t know why you ignored all the strangeness surrounding your beloved boyfriend, but perhaps it was due to the fact that he was such a walking green flag that you truly didn’t care nor mind.

ultimately, he was the best thing that ever happened to you, and who were you to give him up so easily?

after years spent dating, jinwoo finally proposes to you at the ripe age of 27, with you accepting his proposal within seconds. you recall basking in his sweet kisses before proceeding to make love with him the night of his proposal, further cementing your promises of forever with him.

after your marriage, you didn’t think of such weirdness ever again… choosing to simply ignore the shadowy wisps as you correctly guessed that they were meant to protect you-

however, it all reached a boiling point when your son, suho, reached his first birthday and began floating across the dining room table. your eyes go wide, seeing him glowing as the shadowy wisps surrounded your baby boy. he had gotten upset when you didn’t let him eat his birthday cake. one moment you were telling suho to wait for his papa, and the next he was floating above you with pieces of his cake clutched tightly within his tiny grasps.

jinwoo told you he had some work to do at the station, but you were too panicked to wait for him to come home tonight. in your anxious state, you called him right away, feeling grateful that he answers on the second ring.

“hello love-“

“jinwoo…! suho is… he’s floating and the shadows are trying to help him down… but he’s not coming down!”

you follow your child in hopes of catching him if he ever decided to come down, hearing jinwoo shift around a bit on the other line.

“don’t worry, sarang… i told you that i know how to fly, too, right?” amusement was heard in his voice, and you felt a sense of pure annoyance flooding your veins.

“you most certainly have not told me such things! and i expect a full explanation when you come home!”

“wait, my love-“

“and i mean everything, jinwoo sung!”

you hang up the call quickly, watching as suho took a nose dive back into your arms. filled with a sense of relief, you felt your son smear his cake all over your blouse and take a step back-

only to detect the faint scent of your husband’s cologne as his powerful arms were felt wrapped around you.

“how do you manage to do that?” you hiss at him, eyes weakly glaring at him when he holds you even tighter to his chest. again, he had appeared when you needed him the most.

“later, my love… i’ll tell you later… first, let’s celebrate our suho’s precious birthday.”

“bah!!!” suho’s eager cries for his father makes your heart melt, easing your anger just the tiniest bit. you pout while transferring suho into jinwoo’s arms, snickering when your son manages to smear even more bits of frosting and cake against his turtleneck sweater.

the next few hours were spent with you finishing up dinner and celebrating suho’s first birthday with his lopsided cake. never wishing to remain too far away from you or suho, jinwoo settles your form on his lap while you held on to suho, cleaning the crumbs of his cake off of his mouth as your husband cuddled close to you and your son.

when nightfall came and jinwoo helped put suho to bed in his crib, you stayed close by with your arms crossed over your chest. when he shuts suho’s door, his solemn, grey eyes meet with your gaze. you gesture at him to follow you out into the balcony, and he does so while wrapping a hand around your waist.

you slide open the glass door and close it, speaking in hushed tones so as to not disturb your neighbors. “i turned a blind eye to many things when it comes to you jinwoo… solely because i love you so damn much.”

he hums, holding you tightly in his embrace while momentarily looking at the skies.

“from shadows that seem to surround me to your strange glowing eyes-“

“we have a history together, my love.” jinwoo interrupts you, not looking away from the sky.

his words make you look up at him. “obviously, we do. we’ve been together since the start of college.”

“no… before that. way before that.”

taking advantage of his strength, he turns you around so that you were now facing him. his eyes glow that same, startling hue as his hands gripped at your shoulders tightly. “if you wish to know the truth, the whole truth, then say the word. i’m no longer the coward i once was… i’m certain i can keep you by my side regardless of what happens.”

you let out a shaky breath before giving him a nod as your final answer.

he brings you closer to him now, surrounding you within his powerful embrace as he kisses you fully on the lips. the shadows dance around you once more, as you saw a faint glow surrounding your form from beneath your closed eyelids-

and that single action alone was enough to pull the curtain away from your very memories.

there were gates and hunters… monarchs and monsters that threatened to destroy all of humanity…

and there was you and jinwoo…

a hunter with his healer…

all at once, you felt your vivid memories returning back to you, the onslaught of visions being too much to bear that you had a hard time discerning all of them. you end up falling against jinwoo, his arms being wrapped around you in a comforting manner as he prevented you from slumping against the ground.

your head was pounding, yet despite the pain, you manage to look up at him, seeing jinwoo with his eyes clenched shut as tears streamed down his face.

“i’ve been so alone- i’ve kept this burden of mine a secret for so long, and this may be selfish of me, but- i’m truly so happy that you know.”

you shake your head and push through the pain, leaning up to kiss him deeply as he delves his fingers into your hair. as the full moon shone brightly against your entangled forms, you knew that jinwoo had always been your soulmate from the start.

as you spend the following years in marital bliss, you gave suho a little sister named sera, a precious little girl who held both yours and jinwoo’s features while having your eyes. even at such a young age, suho swore to protect his little sister while allowing jinwoo’s shadow soldiers to surround both of them.

yet there was a growing concern between you and jinwoo when it came to your children. after all, jinwoo wanted both suho and sera to live a relatively normal and peaceful life, forcing him to lock away their memories pertaining to the powerful nature of their father (a power that they were sure to inherit someday.)

after jinwoo had erased your children’s memories, you spent the night in your children’s room comforting them, with beru crying while clutching on tightly to suho’s drawing depicting beru holding hands with both him and sera. as the former ant king leaves the room, you whisper to jinwoo.

“will you leave them in the dark forever?”

he shakes his head, bringing you into his embrace while pressing a kiss against your hair. “no, not forever. they’re both still too young… and i’d like to give the fruits of our love some happiness… after all, being children of the shadow monarch is no easy burden to bear…”

you hum in agreement, moving your head so that you could meet his lips in a searing kiss. regardless of what the future would bring, you swore to always remain by jinwoo’s side, all while protecting and raising your children…

“mom, if you keep cutting the cucumbers too much, it’ll be like baby food.”

you snap out of your reveries just then, looking down to see a 10-year old sera looking up at you with an innocent expression. you giggle and pick up the slender girl, allowing her to sit on the counter as you placed the cut cucumbers into a bowl for tonight’s kimchi.

“thank you for helping your mama.” you smile and brush your lips against your daughter’s forehead, earning a giggle from her.

“mama, where’s oppa…? it’s getting late.”

you purse your lips, looking up at the clock to see that it was 6:45pm… sera was right. usually suho would come home from school at around 3pm with your husband joining later around 8 to 9pm.

“my queen, do not fret, for your husband and young monarch are here…” tusk whispers in your ear, making your eyes widen in response.

as if on cue, the door was heard opening, with jinwoo carrying an unconscious suho in his arms.

“oppa!” sera calls out to her brother, jumping off the counter to meet with her father, “papa, is he okay? is oppa hurt?!”

jinwoo chuckles, ruffling his daughter’s hair with a fondness. “your oppa is fine, he just has a little headache. how about you keep him company until he feels better?”

sera gives him a determined nod, following jinwoo into suho’s room when you decide to put all of the ingredients for tonight’s dinner back into the fridge.

after all, jinwoo had a lot of explaining to do.

while waiting for jinwoo’s return, you poured him an ice cold glass of lemonade, filling it to the brim and offering it to him when you felt his arms suddenly encircle around your waist a couple of minutes later.

“thanks, honey…”

you face him, watching him drain the entire glass within seconds.

“where’s sera?”

“staying by her brother’s side until he wakes up. i told her to keep a close watch on him, he should feel better when dinner’s ready.”

you nod and lean against the kitchen sink. “and… just what did you do?”

you take a moment to admire him, feeling a sense of womanly pride filling you at the fact that he was your husband. despite how it was clear that jinwoo had aged, with slight wrinkles against the corner of his eyes and corner of his lips, he still looked as handsome as the day you first met him-

perhaps even handsomer than before.

settling the empty glass to the side, he wraps his arms around your back. “i was testing him, to see if he was ready to fully inherit my abilities. i even made a system for him to help level up as well.”

you hum and sway back and forth in his arms. “and…?”

jinwoo scoffs, “he is far from ready… filled with overconfidence and a cockiness that’s seen in all teenagers his age. suho has been too spoiled, never once facing the dangers or the fear of death… and such inexperience could lead to his downfall.”

your husband’s words manage to earn a laugh from you. “weren’t you just as cocky back then, too?”

jinwoo rolls his eyes, playfully taking your hand before gently biting down against your fingertip. “there’s a difference between fighting to protect what matters and when to stop when victory cannot be achieved. suho has yet to learn that."

he sighs when he sees the concerned look in your eyes, bringing you closer to him as he presses a lingering kiss against your forehead. “i just want him to be able to protect himself and sera if anything were to happen to us… and at the moment, he’s not ready to receive the full gift of my powers just yet.”

you let out a hum and rest your head against his chest. “our babies are growing up so fast… it’s crazy how far our family has come. i trust you and your judgement, jinwoo. because regardless… i’m so happy that i was able to be the mother of your children.”

“and you have no idea how happy i am to be the father of your children.”

after spending a few extra moments sharing kisses, jinwoo smiles down at you while framing at your face with his two hands.

“how about we order some fried chicken with all of our children’s favorite side dishes… as a treat and an apology for scaring our son?”

you giggle and roll your eyes at your husband and his playful smile, feeling your heart become alight with pure love for him-

praying that such bliss with him and your precious kids will last for forever and a day…

{ done being distracted | the one i need is right in my arms | your kisses taste the sweetest with mine | and i’ll be right here with you 'til end of time. }

a.n. - i was so desperate to write for hubby!jinwoo, and i’m so happy at how this turned out 🥹 i apologize for any errors, since i wish to get this posted asap!

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[athenaluciscaelum]

dante meeting another f!reader demon hunter and falling in love with her

Note: You know the rules, if you do not specify any Dante, I pick my favourite Dante. All Dante is my favourite Dante.

Hunter and Prey

!!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Pairing: DMC5 Dante x Fem! Reader

Rated: Mature

Words: 2542 words

Warning: Explicit language, male masturbation

Disclaimer:

Feel free to leave comments, but remember to be nice and civil.

Dante was getting old. Or that's what he thought as he put down Rebellion on the scabbard and pulled out Ebony and Ivory from his holster and placed them back in the drawer of his hardwood desk.

He glanced at the picture of his mother and popped his neck muscle – left, right and rotation. He sank in his chair, his face in his hands. He sighed. He was killing demons on his mission, nothing new, with some new one claiming to be the strongest demon, ready to be the contender for Demon King, and Dante happily sends them back with just Ebony and Ivory; using Rebellion or going DT was not needed.

Was getting into the earth some criteria to be the next Demon King of the Underworld? Who knows?

It was such a rinse and repeat; Dante was getting bored and annoyed. Heck, he was playing dumb on the mission, just to give those demons some opening to pose him a challenge, but none.

Dante stood up on his feet, taking off his coat and setting it on his chair. He walked up to the bathroom. The mirror shattered. After all, he hated looking at his handsome face because he shared it with someone he loved but killed. Or so he believed.

Dante removed his gloves and unwrapped his wrist bandages. His hands were bloodied; he sighed, pulling up his henley and discarding it. His hands unbuckled his belt and popped open the pants button... to discard his leather pants. His body was a work of art; he ages like a fine wine. Sadly nothing marks his beautiful body – no scars, no marks, only fleeting memories, regret and pain in his mind.

Dante felt old and tired. Or was it just boredom? Dante stepped into the shower; he ran his hand from his neck to his shoulder under water. To soothe the muscle, he felt tired...really tired. He massaged his muscles a bit as he was under a cold shower.

His mind reeling in the memories...unable to suppress what all he was feeling. There were a few different feelings now of surprise, interest, and something else. He remembered the first time he saw you. One way to describe you: Fire. Fire dancing so elegantly.

You were young, younger than him. He first saw you on the field, your hair up in a bun, your sweet complexion, and the way your eyes looked determined. He mistook you for a civilian. He was slicing through the demon, impaling their heart and sliding rebellion down to their intestine to gut them. When he saw you standing there as a demon lunged at you. He was about to save you. But you pulled out your beautiful dagger and easily ducked to get behind the Empusa. You stabbed the dagger through its head, pulling it out to shoot a few bullets in its heart and guts. Empusa fell down dead; Dante saw it all happen in slow motion. The way you elegantly twirled to defend against the pounces and attacks of demons, ducking up and down, your beautiful long coat twirling while stabbing and shooting with such precision and ease.

Your fighting was like a dance; you were efficient and elegant. If Dante's fighting was style, yours was poise. Dante was captivated. He couldn't even blink. He kept staring as you were out of breath, strands of hair framing your sweet face, and you looked at him. You shouted, "Behind you!"

Dante was about to kill the demon who pounced at him, but you threw your dagger right into its head. It was the last Empusa anyway. You walked up to Dante. He was impressed.

You were new in the industry and didn't know who he was. You knew of Legendary Devil Hunter but did not know if he was anything more than legend. Dante smirked, "Nice one, babe." You already faced lots of sexism in this industry and frowned, "And you were incompetent!"

Dante smirked; he wanted to laugh. He understood you mistook him as just some lacking demon hunter. He held up his hand and nodded, "Hey, I have my bad days..." You rolled your eyes, thinking he was trying to put you down. You pulled out the dagger from Empusa's head and walked away.

In Dante's book, a strong woman who met him but didn't stab, slap or hit him with a bike was a nice change of pace.

Then, there were a few other missions where you two met. Each time he got to know you better. He was no stranger to female demon hunters, yet the way you fought was different. You liked to label it as 'fighting like a woman' or your 'violent femininity' – you were patient and elegant, defending your stance as you waited for the best opening to attack. You knew how to harass your weakness and strength.

Whenever you two were together, he really didn't fight. He will join if things go south for you. But for the most part, he just looked at the way you fought. It was like a most beautiful dance that pulled him in trance. The way you were small but ran up to a demon, jumped up to use the demon's neck as a pole and spun to its back, stabbing your dagger in its nape. It screeched as you pulled it all the way down to slice off its spine and shot both of its popliteal fossae. Before it could reach you, you shot it in his head from behind, everything happening in seconds. You ducked to dodge a slash of Skeletor's scythe; you quickly shot it in its head, making it howl as it evaporated. You backflipped as two beast-like demons attacked you. They both crashed into each other, making it easier for you to just throw a grenade at them.

Dante couldn't lie; you left him intrigued and invested. He liked to see you...why? He can't tell. It was your fighting style, right? His demon agreed, 'Soft human has strong fighting style.' He hummed, 'soft human', wait, what!?

You were out of breath as Dante watched. You smiled; you two came along. You understood he was just admiring this side of you, and you could appreciate it. You wiped your forehead as you put back your weapons. You giggled as he kept looking, "What!? Is there blood on my face?" Dante shook his head. He grinned, "Naah, babe, just watching your great skills." You smiled, twirling your gun, "I can teach you." Dante just grinned.

You two were walking from the corner of the world you were in, mindlessly in the forest. You decided to camp at a spot. You knew how to kindle a fire, and you sat across from Dante. Dante spoke, "So what made you become a demon hunter? What demon took from you?" You shrugged, "Nothing... everything is fine. But was never...always wanted to join the army to not live...but that couldn't happen, so this was the second-best option, and I enjoyed it."

Dante understood depression and the form it could take quite well: "So you have your own kind of demon to fight." You shrugged, felt heard and appreciated his recognition for the scar you bore, a scar that left no visible marks like his. "Yeah.... Thank you for listening."

Dante nodded and wrapped his arms around your shoulders; he didn't know what to say. But he knew human warmth and touch; it helps. Though he suspected if he could give you human warmth. But when he felt your head lean against his shoulder and your soft snoring...maybe he wasn't so bad. Soft and strong human....

Dante snapped, "No...must keep distance..." His demon was not amused by his constant rejection, especially when a suitable mate was so difficult to find. You woke up in the morning; Dante didn't say much about last night, and you both parted your ways. Dante made sure to keep his distance.

One day, you were in the bar with your agent; you waved at Dante. Your agent, Enrique, looked at you, a lanky tan man. He was surprised as he spoke, "You know the legendary devil hunter!?" You blinked as you were caught off guard. "Who!? Dante?" Enrique nodded, "Yes! Legendary Devil Hunter Dante! I'm trying so hard to be his agent, but he only ever deals with Morrison! C'mon, introduce us!"

You were puzzled as you walked up to Dante. You crossed your arm across your chest; Dante was sitting on the side of the bar, sipping his coke with whisky. He smiled, "Ohho...Hi Y/N!" You sighed and looked unamused, "Ohho....Hy! Legendary Devil Hunter Dante...never cared to introduce yourself properly."

Enrique pushed you on the side and took Dante's hand to shake it; he blurted, "Ohho... Hi! Mister Dante, I've heard a lot about you.... I heard your business isn't doing quite well... May I offer to handle your gigs and be your agent?" Dante simply shook his hand. "No...Morrison is already taking care of it...one lychee at a time."

You were pissed and turned to leave. Dante sighed and followed you out. It was a dark road, and he shouted carefreely, "Are you mad?" You turned and frowned, "Why will I be!? You just left out a very important part: your identity!" Dante acted nonchalant, "C'mon! Babe! It's common in our line!" You looked at him hurt, "I thought we were friends..." Dante showed a moment of vulnerability and again masked it with his cocky smile, "Now why will you think that?"

You felt like an idiot and wanted to cry. You berate yourself internally for opening your heart to anyone; you took a deep breath, clenched your fist and left. Dante didn't know what to do. But he knew one thing – driving you away was the best course of action. He can pursue.

Unfortunately, his demon side was not happy. Not so after a month of no contact and amidst his heat cycle. He tried to take mission after mission, keeping himself occupied.

Now he was here in a cold shower trying to calm his nerves and not think about you. But his hand moved south. It was quite unbearable since his demon side had a face and body in mind for an intended mate. Dante cursed himself as he held his heavy cock in one hand and started to give it long strokes from base to tip. He squeezed at the base, pulling down a bit to press on his balls; he grunted... his head against the glass of the shower. His other hand flat on the glass. He started to jerk himself faster to the thought of you, your smile, the way you moved, the way you danced with your prey, and the way your scent made him dizzy. It was all too much; he came hard, making a mess.

He sighed, cleaning himself up and tying a towel around his waist. He puts on his grey sweatpants and walks out in the office. Before he even opened the bathroom door, your scent hit him. His hand morphing into a black, scaly claw, he stays in and calms himself.

He acts carefree and walks out shirtless... "Y/N," his voice deep and cold. You looked sad and a bit angry, but you mean business. "There is a mission legendary demon hunter; it's-" Dante held up his hand, "A demon king trying to open a gate to our world...?" You nodded, "I cannot do this...." Dante understood, "I will take care of it...you can leave."

His coldness and callousness squeezed your heart in a tight grip. You looked down, summoning all courage, "Dante! Whatever you may be, respect!" Dante was frustrated. "Maybe you should stop taking it so personally..." You opened your mouth to speak, but he continues, "You're strong! You do not need to prove yourself to anyone. The way you fight! It's like a dance on an icy lake...it's a work of art..."

You blinked, your mouth open, "Thank you..." Dante sighed, running his hand through his white hair. "Just go....I will take care of this new demon that popped up!" You shrugged, "They keep popping up because you keep creating a vacuum." Dante frowned, "What!?" You explained, "Yeah, you kill every new one, so there is also a vacuum to seize power... If you don't kill them but just send them back to the pits of hell...it might not be so regular."

Dante thought to himself and frowned, "Huh..." You giggled, "Right!" You tickled his brain in the most tantalising way, especially given your sweet scent and voice. That giggle made his heart flutter and his demon purr. He was himself smiling like an idiot; he stopped. No! Dante looked at you. "And?" You looked at the condition of his office – pizza boxes, liquor bottles, and books littered around his office. There were not many functional appliances in the office; even a few lights were flickering.

You looked at him, "Are you okay?" Dante acted unfazed. "Yeah...Y/N...good night." You understood that you had overstayed your welcome and nodded, "Yeah ...good night."

Dante looked as you walked away. He could barely hide anymore how hard he was. He cursed himself under his breath, another problem to take care of.

Trish was the first one to get a whiff of Dante's more grumpy and agitated exterior. Trish always did her research and spoke nonchalantly, "You heard about this new female Devil Hunter, Y/N?" Dante's ears perked up, and he kept looking in his magazine, acting cool, "What about her?" Trish looked into your profile provided to her by Morrison, "Is she really this good?" Dante nodded, "Yeah..."

Trish pulled away his magazine. "How do you know?" Dante frowned and sighed, "I worked with her on a few missions." He tried to pull back her magazine, but Trish pulled back. "Denial?" Dante rolled his eyes, "Your girlfriend is gay..." Trish groaned, "Your pathetic humour."

Dante couldn't stop himself; he had to see you. Though he cannot meet you, he always made sure through agents and intel that you were okay and doing fine. It was his way to love and cherish you. To make sure you are okay but keep you away.

Though the ache in his heart and loins only grew. Frustrating. He thought as he was in bed naked with a girl he picked at a bar to let it out and be done with. But now he can see how dumb of an idea it was, and it didn't help a bit.

He was ignoring you for weeks and months and was just waiting for the day. You will move away or just forget him. But anytime you saw him anywhere, you gave him that beautiful smile. He didn't deserve it.

His hands ached as he yearned to touch you, hold you close, feel you, and make you feel things that will make you scream his name. But he couldn't, so he resorted to the next best thing: killing demons.

He sighed as he looked at the whisky glass on his desk, ice melting. Will he ever be able to tell you? Would he ever be able to take away your smile? He didn't know, but for now he will just sleep.

[beneathashadytree]

DOWNTOWN - XAVIER SHEN X READER

Warnings : explicit descriptions of messy oral sex, biting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, implied masochism from Xavier, thigh worshipping, underwear is pushed to the side, male masturbation, cumming untouched, powerful orgasm, cum eating, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut (but they’re lovesick I promise🫶🏽)

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : I’ve yet to spoil myself Xavier’s full date because I still intend to pull for him, but from what I’ve already watched this is basically what happened, trust 🙏🏽

Tip jar!

Masterlist

How long had they been lying there, limbs feeling like jelly and their mouth filled with cotton wool, unable to discern the fantasy from reality, and unable to tell the time of day it was? How long had Xavier lied there, nestled comfortably between their thighs like it was his favorite place in the world? How many times had they already been brought to the edge by the work of his tongue?

They didn’t know. All they knew they could focus on was the sheer intensity of the blazing lust in his eyes, trained on theirs and rendering them unable to look away, not even for one second. They could feel his firm grip on them, fingers digging into their plush thighs as he pinned them down to the mattress with more than just his gaze.

As they trembled after yet another impossible high he’d brought them to, he soothed the gentle ache inside them with his lips. Soft, feather-light kisses, trailing up the insides of their thighs…. suckling against them and tenderly licking the beads of perspiration that dotted their skin.

And if he happened to lap at the slick that trickled down their legs from their countless orgasms, groaning at the back of his throat at their taste, then who were they to refuse the unholy sight of him enraptured by them?

“You… mmm, how…?” they tried to gasp out, only to have him shake his head, the soft strands of his hair tickling them and causing them to jump a little at their hypersensitivity.

“No need to talk, honey,” he cooed at them, his voice like a soothing balm to their frayed nerves. One of his hands reached up to guide their own, unclenching them from the mattress to the back of his head. Almost on autopilot, their fingers dug into his blonde locks, tangling them and tugging in the way he absolutely adored. “That’s it. Show me where you want me, my love.”

As they faltered for a few moments, his teeth sank a little into their thighs, earning a sharp hiss that he couldn’t help but smile into their skin at. Almost rhythmically, Xavier’s mouth worshipped every exposed inch, adorning their perfect skin with gorgeous blooming marks in the prettiest shades of red.

Like clockwork, their hands tugged tighter at the soft curling hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer to their core. Xavier wasted no time in pushing aside their ruined panties with deft fingers, letting them snap wetly against their skin. He latched onto their most sensitive spot, tongue lapping up the drops of arousal that escaped them the instant his mouth was on them.

It was devilishly heavenly and yet purely sinful; the sight of him servicing them in all the ways he knew with slicked fingers and a practiced tongue was one that they could never tear their gaze from. A turbulent night sky of unspoken desires burned in his eyes, blue nearly fading to ebony as his longing for their taste overpowered all other senses.

“Too much, ‘m sensitive,” they cried out, head whipping back on the pillow. “Can’t think… Xavier!” He hummed in understanding and half-pity, but didn’t let up. How could he, when their fingers dug deeper into his hair, forcing him in place right where he wanted to be?

And Gods above, did he know how to drag the unholiest moans from them; the most pitiful whines of his name as he kissed his way down to their dripping hole, sore in the best way possible. “I’ve got you, sweet thing,” he murmured, all the gentleness in the world laced in his words, though his grip almost became bruising on their thighs, and his tongue slipped inside of them with ease.

Every experimental lick, every harsh thrust, and every sloppy kiss against their warmth was a new kind of torture that Xavier reveled in. It burned in only the warmest of ways, like an inferno only he could kindle inside them, and only he could douse with dizzying pleasure. It was too much and yet not enough.

He devoured them whole, ate them out with an unparalleled fervor; like they were his last meal on earth and he’d die if he wasn’t buried between their legs for every night he stayed alive. His muffled, wet moans and his hips canting against the mattress as he sought out some friction made it clear that he found this just as arousing—if not more—as they did. “Love you, love you so much,” Xavier breathed out, drunk on all of them.

Spread out underneath him like that, it was an assault on all the senses: the smell of his vanilla shampoo and the distinct scent of sex, the feeling of his fingers caressing their marked up thighs, the sounds of him filthily lapping at them and sloppily making out with their cum-slicked entrance, and the unadulterated desire coursing through their veins at him so quickly chasing yet another high of theirs.

“Shit, mmm… love you more, inside, need more,” they whispered, trying to string together a sentence that wasn’t half-babbled nonsense in this haze.

They hadn’t even noticed the way their nails had dug into his scalp, pulling a dragged out moan from the back of his throat as he enjoyed that familiar twinge of pain, mixing with the taste of them on his tongue. It was instinctual to keep him close, to pin him in place; every strangled groan of his vibrating onto them and sending them crashing.

With a desperate cry of his name, a white-hot flash of mind-numbing pleasure burned them alive, their hips bucking up into his awaiting mouth, taking in every flutter of their walls around his tongue and every quiver of their thighs against his head. Dots swam in their vision in their post-orgasmic bliss, their whole body feeling like it was floating on a cloud miles away, unable to notice how he’d sighed their name out before shamelessly spilling into his own underwear.

Only when the weight of him was removed as he got up did they blink back to awareness. Mortification washed over them as they saw his face emerging, their release having made a mess of him. Xavier, however, seemed to feel no embarrassment whatsoever as his thumb swiped at the corner of his mouth, then licked it clean with an appreciative hum.

“Always so sweet for me,” he huffed out a half-laugh, adoration tinged in his every word and the tilt of his head as he climbed back up the length of their body.

Between pants of heavy breathing, they managed to say, “You’re insatiable.” There was no admonition in their voice, though, and he knew that it wasn’t a complaint.

With a shake of his head, he slowly pulled them into his side, their pliant body perfectly slotting against his. It felt too good. Maybe cleaning themselves up from the stickiness and drenched underwear could be postponed for a bit, as long as they could lie together like this. “And you like it.”

Taglist: @verynormalsstuff @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @riinari-sa @reika-desu @tikitsune @roll-of-royces @lemonsupernova @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @fromdeepspace-withlove @granddearduck @skriblobz @nadinefromwhere @imhere2dosomething @saerotonins @cantescapethevoid @teewritessmth @lovra974 @straykidz143 @reishuus @xinnn6 @vyntagei @bakahimesama @rafayels-procrastinator @scentisterror (more in replies!)

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[imagine-darksiders]

Strife x Reader drabble.

Strife coming back to your house after a long, difficult mission, and when you open the door, you nearly buckle under the weight of a gargantuan Horseman teetering towards you.

"Hey, Hon'," he slurs in a daze, wrapping his arms around you whilst you struggle to keep both you and a half-tonne Nephilim upright.

Not that you aren't delighted to see him but... "Strife!" you gasp, grimacing at the stench of old blood that had better not be his own, "Eugh! Oh my god, you stink like Death!"

"Ha... yeah," he mumbles as he buries the sharp nose of his mask into your hair, drawing in a long, shameless whiff of the shampoo you'd applied just a few hours ago, "And you smell good enough to...."

Trailing off to nonsense, he nuzzles firmly at the top of your head and heaves a contented sigh.

Exasperated, you plant your hands against his solid chest and shove, hard. The Horseman sways backwards, unfurling his arms and blinking unevenly down at you, head cocked to one side and a petulant whine tumbling out from under his helm. Sometimes you have to sternly remind yourself that he's a born and bred killing machine.

"Come on, let's get you inside," you grunt, holding him at arm's length as you start to move backwards into your home. Dutifully, Strife drags his feet along the carpet after you, following your footfalls until you reach the end of the hall.

The entire way, he watches you with a hooded gaze, which is quick to grow slightly wider when you prop him against the doorframe and skirt around him, moving back down the hallway towards your front door.

The Horseman's hand snags your wrist before you can make it two feet.

"Where're ya goin?" he asks, urgent if still a bit muddled.

You nearly shoot him a glare before his wide, amber gaze gives you pause. Suddenly, he doesn't look dazed. The moment you moved away from him, his expression opened to something rigid, tense and focused. He's looks.... Scared isn't the right word. Not for a Horseman.

Concerned, then.

"I'm just going to close the front door," you tell him, your own expression softening. Despite the size of his fist around your arm, his grip has stayed gentle. He's learned from last time.

The Horseman blinks slowly. And at last, his fingers go slack, letting you pull your wrist from his hand.

It flops back to his side with a dull, metallic 'clank.'

"Oh," he hums, "A'right..."

Perturbed by his... unusually muzzy behaviour, you hurry to close and lock the door, returning to your friend's side in just a few moments.

"Bathroom," you say firmly when you reach him, taking his elbow and trying to herd him further into your home, towards the little wooden door attached to your living room. "And you can tell me what the Hell happened to you."

"Nuthin' happened," he snorts, as if you're the one being silly, "Just overdid it, s'all. Had to let Anarchy out for.... w-haay~ longer than usual."

"Ah." You click your tongue shortly. "That explains it."

You've 'met' Anarchy a few times now, only ever during the most dire of circumstances, when things are quickly going south in a battle and Strife was overwhelmed by enemies.

You've also seen the aftermath, how Strife would always take a few minutes to regain his composure after Anarchy recedes back to wherever it exists in his psyche.

With gentle coaxing and a lot of reassurances that you aren't leaving him, you manage to sponge most of the grime and viscera from Strife's armour. He sits on the floor, too heavy for the toilet seat, whilst you tend to him. When you offer to wash his hair over the tub, he almost purrs in delight.

Your fingernails scrape gently across his scalp, lifting dirt and old, dried blood from the tough, ebony tussocks, massaging clumps of the stuff all the way to the spiked tips before flicking them into the bathtub to be rinsed away by warm water.

It's a battle to get him to let you stop, and only the promise that you'll join him on the bed gets him to move.

He slumps like a dead-weight, armour and all, onto your mattress, and you wince as the springs screech in protest, but before you can move to turn off the light or pull on a dry pair of pyjamas, the Horseman's arm has snuck around your waist and hoisted you bodily onto the bed alongside him.

"Strife," you scold fondly as he rolls you over to face him and takes your wrist in his hand, moving your arm up until your palm lands on the back of his skull. The eyes behind his mask have grown impossibly wide, the white pupils hovering within big and round as he stares at you, just inches from your face, an unasked question hanging thickly in the air.

"... Fine," you sigh, resigned, dragging your fingertips tenderly through his damp tresses. "At least you doesn't stink anymore..."

[yandere-wishes]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨⋆White Roses Black Doves⋆୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

⭒⌒★ Yandere!Sleep Token x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓷 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 ♡ ｡ ゜  

｡ ₊°༺Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2 AM ༻°₊ ｡

⋆｡˚ᶻ ᶻ 𝗓 ᶻ 𐰁˚｡⋆ Vessel

There's an ache behind his eyes, a potent decay from within. Vessel blinks trying to subside the pain, the biological furor of reason. The celestial glare of the vending machine doesn't help, then again it's hard to feel anything but pain when you've foregone sleep for just a little over two weeks. The kaleidoscopic of options lobotomizes his brain, Monster or Red Bull? Carrion or cruor? He's about to claw at the keypad when he hears the familiar thing approaching. He can't help but be reminded of supernovae when he sees you, diaphanous little star killing herself from within, burning, and molting until there's nothing left to neither hurt nor hold.

Vessel loves watching as you bleed fatigue, bloodshot doe eyes pried open by phantoms, and yet he can still taste the innocence reflected in your cornea. "Same as always?" he asks, already stepping aside as you press tenderly on the decrepit eight. You eat KitKats like you're smoking a cigarette. Vessel finds it a tad too hilarious, a morbid joke. He'll be long dead from the poisonous vapor he inhales like oxygen and you'll be standing over his grave smoking sugar and coco beans. He licks his lips as he stares at your fingers, slender, shaky. He wonders what the marrow would taste like erupting between his teeth. "Rough day?" he mutters as he sinks down beside you. You only ever look at him, too shy to speak. That's fine, he thinks, he'll coax out that pretty voice someday. Behind you, the vending machine stirs a light mechanical hum like a choir hymn. You hand him the last piece before disappearing into the night. Vessel's eyes follow you until you're engulfed by the darkness, he'll see you here again like clockwork. Prayers of gratitude spill from his lips as he waits for morrow night.

♡꩜♡꩜♡ II

He's seen this scene before. Enshrined it in fact. Watched you until your essence engraved itself behind his eyes. He's memorized the ice cream you like, which foot you use to cross the threshold. The gentle jolt of your body as you slide open the freezer door. The clock strikes midnight and Cinderella appears with dark bags under her eyes to match the ebony paint he wears like an oath. ii watches as you lean over the freezer, face greeting the hoar.

His fingers twitch longing to sink into the plush of your hips, to entwine through your silky hair as they push you further into the frost. He'll trail kisses across your neck as you suffocate. Bite your jawline playfully and mar the gossamer flesh. Body pressed to yours, impaling your stomach on the freezer's edge. He'll say he loves you, because he thinks he does, or maybe there isn't quite a word to describe this emotion. This enthralling all-encompassing obsession etched deep within his bones. You're frozen in his thoughts, the little princess that roams the convenience store he likes to haunt. What do you call it when someone is imprinted upon your soul? When their essence is more familiar to you than your own? ii reaches for the same ice cream, letting the frost sink in like a kiss. When your fingers grace his, he interweaves them like a vice.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ- III

There's something endearing about the emptiness, the void.

How the space continues to function even when the crowds have gone home. The lights, the pop songs, the machines, they all continue to dance even when the crowds have gone home. iii weaves between the games looking for something to pass the time. It's rejuvenating, he thinks, breathing without the panoptic. When you live in the limelight -no matter how hard you try to remain anonymous- you still leave all your pieces amongst the public. Forgetting how to fill your whole husk when the spotlight wears off.

The first time iii sees you he's nothing short of annoyed. He'd thought he'd get the place to himself. No screaming teens or crying kids, but your presence proves a complication even if you've yet to register the man behind you. He peers at your reflection smeared across the glass, sees you trying to ensnare a rabbit within the claws, your eyes closing for milliseconds in between only to reopen to the rabbit having plummeted once more. "Here let me help you" he offers. And truly at first he had meant it, an innocent act brought on upon both wanting to win the game and wanting to be rid of you. But the way your body slacks against his as he pushes against your back. The way your tiny hand fits so perfectly in his as he helps you navigate the joystick. You're perfume wafts over him, floral, dainty, like walking through flower fields at midnight. It takes three more tires before he wins you your rabbit.

But he doesn't stop there. iii drags you to the other games, enjoying how malleable you are within his hands. He notices how you can't help falling asleep no matter what you're doing. He wonders why you're here, amongst the neon lights and prizes instead of tucked away in your bed. By the time the sun has risen, iii's won you one too many prizes that you struggle to carry in your arms. He follows you back home, making sure to keep to the alleys and walls. It's so you don't get hurt he assures himself, but deep down he knows he just can't let you go. He's always had trouble with parting, wishing to keep everything locked away with this ribcage. Safe and sound. You've started to find plush animals outside your apartment door. Always with a morbidly painted guitar pick strung around their necks. You used to take them straight to your bed, giggling at your secret admirer. You'd give them names while inspecting the pick, wondering who you knew who played guitar. But recently you've started to notice crimson specks across the dolls. People have been missing, people you know and love. The crimson spots only keep growing…

˙✧˖° ⋆｡˚ IV

He feels you like a marble balancing on his tongue. Cold until it's corrupted by his heat. Your eyes are always open, but they never seem to see. IV wraps his arms around you pulling you closer as the movie screen flashes with some creature feature. He's found that you're happiest when he lets you out of the house. When his presence is lost amongst the outside world. Still, IV is ever cautious he knows how easy it would be for you to slip away. He's taken every precaution taking you outside only at night and usually to the cinema, usually, the ones that run old movies till the brink of dawn.

IV's mask nuzzles into your side, you only let out a low groan. It's always so hard for him to tell if you're awake or not, your brain seems to be perpetually elsewhere. IV grabs your chin, forcing your attention on him. "Darlin" he hisses, all warning and toxin. "Yes," you mutter like your mouth is filled with medicine you refuse to swallow. He pushes his mask above his lips, before sealing you in a kiss. All teeth and tongue like he's trying to devour you. You push on his shoulders at first, trying to break free, but when futility settles in, you give up, letting him take over. IV's fingers squish into your cheeks, his kiss deepens, ravenous, hungry for his stubborn little girl. You feel like you're drowning, letting the sea monsters devour you. Funny how the only place you'll ever be free of him is when his dear deity Sleep takes you away.

The screen overhead gleams in black and white, the monster has captured the girl, and the hero is nowhere in sight.

🎀Taglist: @blvckmvgicwoman @pastlivesxpastlie @enchantingarcadecreation @bloodmoon-bites

[gothamite-rambler]

Wally tossed the prop gun filled with blanks in his hand like a ball after finishing a mission with Dick, Roy, and Jason, who were debating what to do with a leftover weapon.

Wally (throwing it): Jason, catch!

He tossed the gun to Jason without a second thought.

Jason (confused, then alarmed): What are you passing— Oh shit!

Jason dodged just in time, and the gun landed on the ground with a thud.

Jason (shouting angry): Bitch, what is wrong with you?!

Wally (shrugging): What? It only has blanks in it.

Jason (taking a few steps back): Blanks can still cause damage and kill you, jackass! You did that on purpose!

Wally: No, it was an accident. Plus it's not like blanks can actually do anything bad.

Jason (hitting Roy on the arm): Handle him!

Roy: What? I’m checked out and just want to get home. Wally, don’t toss any loaded guns. It usually doesn’t end well.

Wally: Oh… no, wait… blanks can’t kill you… right?

Dick: If you aim it close to your body and pull the trigger, it can. That’s how that soap opera actor died.

Wally: Which actor?

Dick: Jon-Erik Hexum. He aimed it at his temple and died. There's a few cases of death by blank bullets or not completely cleared gun chambers.

Roy (annoyed, as Jason grips his arms, hiding behind him): Brandon Lee also died from a gun mishap. Blanks or not, don’t mishandle a gun! Jason, would you quit using me as a shield?

Jason (stepping away): Sorry, I don’t hang out with the Flash's nephew, so I don’t know what he’s like. You’re my personal redhead.

Roy (appreciating the compliment): I am? You know what, I’ll take it.

Wally walked over at a regular pace, picked up the gun, and examined it. He remembered that he could heal quickly, so bullets weren't a huge worry for him… most of the time.

Wally: Sorry, I heal fast when I get shot, depending on the spot. The safety’s on anyway; we’d be fine—

Wally accidentally pulled the trigger because the safety wasn't on. The blank bullet shot out of the chamber, flying through the air and nearly hitting Roy in the shoulder, but he ducked just in time.

Roy (dryly): This isn’t the craziest thing to happen to me this week, and that concerns me.

Jason swiped the gun out of Wally's hand and punched him sharply in the arm, making the speedster wince for a few seconds.

Jason: Heal from that, you dunce! Dick, control your redhead!

Jason walked off to his car, with Roy following him. Dick shook his head with a tired sigh, then walked over to a sheepish Wally as he rubbed his arm.

Dick (crossing his arms): Haven’t been getting a lot of sleep?

Wally (rubbing his tired eyes): Yeah, how do you guys do it?

Dick: Decades of practice. Jason will warm up to you eventually.

Wally: Oh please, I’ve got my ebony hair already. By the way, are you and Star—

Dick (interrupting): I told you, not yet.

Wally: Come on, Linda said she’s on board for another one.

Dick (walking off): No.

[blue-jisungs]

PLAYLIST

author's note. sorry for the slight delay!!! i hopeu all enjoy it tho<3 thank u so sooo mcuh @slytherinshua for the banner (again)<3333333333

summary. jihoon is curious about you, especially your music taste and this... somehow leads to your first kiss with him

word count. 1233

genre. music major!jihoon (and also undercover artist, woozi) x psychology major!yn

jihoon felt like a fool.

a complete, love struck fool.

he didn’t know what you did to him but – how did wonwoo phrase it? he was down bad for you – he was whipped.

ever since bumping into you in the library, which was quite embarrassing by the way, he just couldn’t get his mind off you. luckily for him, he gained some courage to talk to you and exchange socials.

you were in a talking stage, getting to know each other. like, for example your name, sign, major – so on, so forth. he was completely smitten to find out that you’re a psychology student but then again, you seemed amazed when he told you he’s majoring in music.

despite all this knowledge he still yearned to know more. your music taste, favorite drink, the name of your first hamster that you had in childhood– despite how creepy it sounded, it was the effect you had on him.

naturally, you wanted to know more about him too.

hence you’re here now, in his studio.

“do you want something to drink? vodka? tequilla? i mean, other drinks are okay too. ice with water?” jihoon asked, opening his mini fridge and trying to ignore the feeling of blood rushing to his ears. he’s such an idiot. ice with water? really, jihoon?

“water is fine” you grinned, looking around the room.

you were curious about the studio, it’s where the magic happens after all. apparently he didn’t let people in… except his friends. even with them he made some exceptions – like soonyoung, who once snuck in while he was drunk and made a song about a tiger…? you remember this story, he told you it on one of your first meetings (dates?).

“it all looks so expensive” you sighed, scared to even touch anything. jihoon must have noticed it because he broke a smile.

“well… music equipment usually is quite pricey. but feel free to try something, i’ll guide you. guitar, keyboard, saxophone… even the mixing board” he hummed and handed you the glass of water.

“oh really? i always wanted to try the silly machine” you pointed at the sound mixer, recalling a video you saw on tiktok how the grey keys lit up upon touching.

“here you go, then” jihoon grinned and pulled your chair closer to it, causing you to giggle. then, he pulled another chair for him and sat down.

he turned it on and put you glass away, ebony irises looking at you with excitement.

“so do i just…?” you asked and shyly tapped one of the tiles, it making a sound and lighting up with a pink light.

jihoon watched you good around with it, creating a silly melody and being rather amused by the colors than the music itself. his heart was thumping against his chest, weirdly liking it. he was anxious that he’d feel somehow stressed and somehow angry upon seeing you touch his instruments. he always did when someone came over. but with you… why was he so carefree?

“i have no idea how you do it, that just sounded like cocomelon intro” a laugh escaped your lips and jihoon joined you. oh, he loved the sound of your laughter.

“let me play some music, wait” jihoon stood up and grabbed his phone from the pocket of his sweats.

you admired him, observing his silhouette. he really fitted perfectly into this space, you could see he’s feeling himself because he’s surrounded by things he loves.

and he let you in that safe space of his.

this caused your heart to skip, trying to convince yourself it’s nothing. that he takes every girl here sooner or later, lets her play his instruments–

“everytime you look at me like that i wonder if you’re having flashbacks of your psychology textbooks, you know? and then you’re like… ‘ah yeah, he fits that description perfectly’” he giggled and you scoffed, shaking your head.

“you know, sometimes i can’t help but consider all the… small signs… but i don’t diagnose you!” you joked but saw his eyes widen. oh.

“small signs?” he asked, a bit of panic in his voice. great, now you freaked him out.

“like… you’re a workaholic but that’s no surprise, right?” you tried to ease the situation and it seemed that it worked.

“yeah, yeah” he nodded, a small smile blooming on his lips.

once again you looked around the room, eyes taking in every detail.

“wait, actually… do you want to play some music? i’m curious what you listen to” he asked and handed you the aux with a boyish smile.

“don’t judge me though… i’m already feeling kinda stupid” you laughed and scrolled through your playlist, jihoon looking over your arm.

you decided to play one of your cozy mixes on shuffle and turned around to peek at him.

“you… um, you know woozi?” jihoon asked, a tiny of nervousness in his voice.

“oh, yeah! jun recommend him to me! he’s so good, honestly. i kinda wish he had more music because i feel like i know every song by heart right now” you giggled and saw his eyes widen “what? you don’t like him?”

“wha… i… actually…” jihoon stuttered, mind racing like a wild horse galloping through the fields. why did jun tell you? no… he knew the answer to that – jun knew jihoon has a crush on you. what an asshole.

but… what to do now? how didn’t you figure out that woozi is him? should he confess? or should he thank you? or… maybe he should deny that he doesn’t know him.

“you kinda sound like him now that i think about it” you hummed, scanning his face.

“are you playing some psychological games with me right now?” jihoon asked, cracking a smile and finally sitting down next to you.

“no, why would i?” a frown appeared on your features. jihoon took it as a sign that you’re really clueless. taking a deep sigh, he pointed at one of the diplomas (or what you thought they were).

“i’m… woozi”

your mouth fell agape as you scanned the paper on the wall, secured safely in a ruby frame.

“and i’ll admit, you have a nice taste in music” he added, observing you. why was he kind of… excited by your reaction? the fact that you liked his music was another thing, making his heart go crazy.

“are you serious?” you asked in disbelief and your eyes shifted to meet his ebony ones.

“i’m in your playlist. come at me, gir” jihoon laughed and opened his arms in a cocky manner.

“so… woah. that’s crazy. i have a question though” you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at him. woozi’s mischievous spark in the eye told you to be straightforward “about who is ‘ruby’ about?”

no words were exchanged but the look he gave you was like an electric spark between you two. maybe hence the next thing he did, powered by an impulse, was standing up.

“can i kiss you?” he asked and you nodded vigorously, shame flying out of the window.

if it wasn’t said, the kiss definitely translated it into words: ‘ruby’ was about you. everything was about you, including his feelings.

his plush lips felt heavenly against yours, soft music playing in the background as his warm hands cupped your cheeks.

who knew that revealing your playlist to him would lead to your first kiss.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Random thought:

You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.

Zombie

Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...

Title: Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.

That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly. 

A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.

It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.

But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.” 

August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.

“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.

When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors. 

You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.

Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.

Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!

From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”

“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”

“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”

The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.

“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.

August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”

You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.

Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.

With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.

“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.

“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.

With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close. 

He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.

Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely. 

But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.

He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.

“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”

When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.

Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”

“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.

You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.

“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”

You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.

Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.

The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.

He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.

You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.

Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint. 

“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.

Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.

“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.

“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.

“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”

You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.

“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.

The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.” 

You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.

August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.

His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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