#and for all the feedback you give each chapter

[orchidyoonkook]

Diving back into your glory with the second response! Kiki you once again absolutely spoil me. I had the biggest damn smile and the giggles reading through this <3

okay so the first thing that caught my eye was the warning yoon why????? a whole jk and ady warning i can't i don't think i can make it through them fucking 😩😩😩

I'm a big believer in not shying away from writing things that may make people uncomfortable. Especially if I find it to be crucial for the plot, like it is here. It's a very important back and forth, metnal conversation, sen reactions and visual scene and it. is. important!! THEREFORE! you get a warning that it is going to happen to prep yourself! I know folks dont really side pairings a lot of the time when the sex is included with them, but in this case I needed it to show an important contrast so I kept it in.

also! Because I can. :)

(this is also why i will fight to the death for all my horror, yandere, boundary pushing writers. Just because their work makes YOU (general use) uncomfortable or upset, doesnt make them wrong for writing it)

like oc and nel i can handle but jk and ady ugh nooooooo our boy our prince not her please anyone else i can take but not her (i just realized the hate train towards ady is strong damn my loyalty to oc ain't cracking) so i am just going to power through that part and take the angst that comes with it (which I welcome)

I hope you were able to see why it was needed!! (let me know if you wanna!) and I appreciate your dedication so much. I know it's tough when it's obvious to you as the reader why something probably shouldnt happen and ngl that makes it wayyyyyyyy more fun to write.

i did notice that subtle hint at of using someone and the fantasies uhmmmmm ok that must be the upside...

noooooooooooooooooo comment 😈

I honestly wonder why oc isn't mentioning her friendship with jk I honestly love it it's giving me little tingles,

She went over her reasoning in chapter three!! ☺ but that was a while ago so I cant blame you there. In a terribly summary she essentially wants to stay out of the public eye, keep the prince happy because she does emjoy his company, and not cause any drama with friends and family.

That being said! I love it too

i don't think i mentioned it but uhm this slow burn is everything its freaking burning and i think oc is definitely feeling it now that jk is with someone, the little encounter at the cafe and the texting they are just adorable and fluffy my face hurts from the smiles...

This is one of my favourite parts of the story. The banter, the subtle jabs, the build up upon build up, the realising of things and denying them, just all of it. Slow burns are my bread and butter, i can devour them always, and apparently I can somewhat write them too. Which is pretty cool

I just love how they have these opinions about each other's partners like the red flags they each see but they are all about each other's happiness, oc held back with ady but oooh jk isn't 😂 you go boy you tell her gosh i love his character in that scene....

This is another contrast!! It's intentional!! I love that you noticed because I try to be subtle about it. They both have their issues and deal with it in their own ways. OC very much deals with it in a small town girl way, whereas the freaking prince is, shockingly (not) very confrontational. I love that theyre opposites in this way.

oc and nel's scene had me pausing cause i literally went why the heck is she thinking about jk at a time like this and then she said it too it was epic oh oc you give me the giggles😂

AHA i LOVE this. I also love the fact their yours and her lines of thinking lined up. That's actually really nice feedback in a way because it means I was able to write OC in a way that actually mimics real life thought patterns when in certain situations and thats REALLY COOL to hear as the writer from the reader.

Also! Happy to make you giggle! Humor is another thing I struggle with writing wise, so I'm glad I can make you crack a smile now and then with mine.

wait what she didn't finish?!?!??!?!?! THIS IS MY ACTUAL REACTION IT'S LIKE OC IS IN MY HEAD ANSWERING ALL MY QUESTIONS OC BABYGIRL NO DIDN'T YOU LITERALLY GIVE YURI ADVICE ABOUT HER DATE AND NOW THIS 😩😩😩

The best advice often comes from those who have experience with things one way or another.

Ex: I never dated in highschool and yet I was the person ALLLLLLL of my friends came too for their relationship advice.

So, my darling OC was just looking out for her bestie in that regard imo, as someone who has trouble in that aspect of her life.

and we jump straight into jk's horror I can't help it this back to back is amazing, not me shouting no through out his entire scene why jk why, here's oc is having trouble and ady on her fourth whyyyyyyyy he better have oc on his mind

YOU DID SEE HOW THE BACK TO BACK WAS IMPORTANT!!!! YAYAYAYAYAY!!

oh I'm so happy, literally this was the "let me know if you wanna" from earlier. This is what I was hoping for!!

JK is allowed to make bad decisions every now and then unfortunately as no one is perfect and no one has perfect coping mechanisms the first time they encounter new problems. He's human, and therefore is prone to making poor human mistakes.

as for the orgasm ratio....noooo comment :)

i love how jungkook says nels name in full i can literally picture the disgust and the face he would pull (cue oc eye roll) italics and all..

AHA I love this. This is probably my fave part im sorry becaue I wrote this in intentionally as sort of a joke that turns into a habit and it's just.....so him. And i adore it because its SO. PETTY. and I live for it.

i am writing this as i read so everything scene/sentence i go to write something on my notepad so i hope it all makes sense

it does!!

and let's just say when he shut her up the scene was better to read

As the writer, I'm cackling. As a reader, FACTS.

ugh jungkook likes oc he likes her fuck can they get together already i am dying here this chapter was perfect (even if ady was in it) like the build up and their thoughts both being on each other oh that tension is building i love the progression between them and the next chapter is gone be golden ahhhhhh lemme run over

Literally the only response I can think to give is just a bunch of these guys: 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 and then a giant THANKYOU!

yoon you beautiful genius you have my heart this fic is everything and it's getting more and more captivating as it goes along i can't wait to see what more you do in this series seriously yoon with every update i go back and re-read everything again and I am in awe every single time and your talent, like this should be printed like i want a physical copy when it's done you are brilliant and such a star for coming up with this ily yoon i hope you know that 🥹🖤

SOBBING IN THE CLUB KIKI. THERES A SPOTLIGHT ON ME, IM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CROWD OF DANCING PEOPLE AND IM SOBBING.

And funfact! I can actually bind this when I'm done with it as I am slowly gathering all the materials I need in order to do so. So maybe one day it will have a physcial copy (or two)!

Once again I feel nothing but warmth and love and light and kindness from your beautiful words. As much as I enjoy writing, it's words like yours and lovely folks like you that make me want to keep writing.

Thankyou. Truly, truly.

Xo, Yoon.

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 6 | M

Title: Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel's here for the week and you couldn't be more excited!! Jungkook's another story though...

Warnings: M, fluff, smut, swearing, drinking, pining, angsstt, slight boundary pushing (not sexual), unwanted/ unneeded overprotectiveness, jealousy, lying, [reader eats bacon and eggs but it's not specified what kind or where it's from, just bacon and eggs, so whether that means veggie, vegan or normal is up to you], intentional pissing off of Nel, a little spat between major characters, sex as a plot device.

Mature warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 6,945

Release Date: April 20, 2:00PM

A/N 1: 6 months later and we have chapter 6! slow updates, but they will be written and they will be posted. I have no plans to abandon this, I just, very unfortunately, have a bit of an outernet life now. So not a lot of free time to be creative which I hate. But it's here!!

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Mature Warnings: Consensual sex x 2, both reader with Nel and JK with Ady -> sorry not sorry cuz it's plot sex. We got us some: kissing, protected sex (as we should), missionary, fingering, oral (f. rec), tiny bit of groping (consenual), multiple orgasms, loud sex, like annoyingly, sex as a terrible coping mechanism (imo), fantasizing.

Bouncing lightly from foot to foot, you’re buzzing after finally receiving the text you were waiting on a few minutes ago.

Nelly <3 [10:10pm]: Landed. See you soon 😘

He’s almost here. He’s almost here!

Just a few more seconds until—

The gates slide open. A flood of people in a mixture of sweats and business casual wear with luggage of all sizes and neck pillows walk through. You hold up the sign above your head with both hands, a smile that could outshine the sun plastered on your face, and search.

Where is he? Where is he, where is he, where is he, you think as you scour the bodies filing out of the automatic doors. You can’t see him. He’s none of the nameless faces that pass you by as they find their family, friends or rides. 

Is this even the right group of people? What if his luggage got lost and he won’t be out with this group. What if he got taken aside for some reason, and now he’s being held in some dusty room being asked a bunch of stupid questions he doesn’t know how to answer? What if he’s fig—

But then there’s a gap in the crowd, and the boy you’ve spent the last half decade of your life with comes into perfect, crystalline view. His lips pulled taught, teeth beautifully bared as he sets his sights on your sign high in the air, then down to you.

And you're running. 

You’re running and dodging and swerving until you’re jumping into Nels arms as he abandons his suitcase in favour of keeping you both up right. He buries his face into your neck, holding you so tightly you think he’ll never let go. And that’s just fine with you as you hold on just as tight, taking in a big breath of him too. 

He smells like airplane and coastal breeze and most importantly, home. 

Nel smells like home.

A muffled, “Ohhhhhhh, I missed you,” greets your ears, and you melt into him even more if that's even possible.

“I missed you too,” you say, pulling back and kissing him. You don’t really care if there’s an audience or not right now. Not when Nel’s here, and he’s in your arms, and he’s yours for a whole 9 days and life is as it should be once again.

He releases his hold slightly, but your arms don’t leave his shoulders. The sign still clutched, now crushed and crinkled, in one hand. 

“Car?” he asks, a kiss to your nose.

“This way,” you lead, releasing your hold.

Luckily, his suitcase is small, so he forgoes rolling it, instead gripping the handle at the top and carrying it in one hand. Your own reaching for his other and not letting go. He’s going to have to peel you off him if he wants space right now. 

Nel’s wearing his usual fall attire; a dark green school sweater that has ‘ECAD’ written over the chest in a large, academic looking mustard yellow font, regular old blue jeans, and dark brown lace up boots. His short, dirty blond hair's covered by a hat you’d gotten him as a highschool graduation present, and his ocean blue eyes remain as gorgeous as they were the day you met. 

Passing through doors to the outside and back to lot J, you hop in the car as he puts his bag in the trunk.

“How have you been? What’s new? What’s not? Tell me everything,” he asks as he climbs in and sits beside you, hand finding yours again. 

Never gone for too long. You relish in the comfort and happiness that alone brings you. 

He’s finally here. You finally have him back.

“I’m great. Yuri’s still Yuri, classes are only a little more challenging this year, but I’m still at the top of them,” Nel slips in a ‘not surprised’ and you smile brighter as you continue. “They’re already telling us to start brainstorming ideas for our thesis show next year,” you have no idea what you’re going to do, but you’re working on it. “Campus is the same, dorms are the same, the cafe’s the same. Though, they have the egg tarts I like in more, which is awesome for my taste buds and terrible for my bank account.” 

Vivian stayed true to her word, and now they had the tarts in every week. 

“I can only imagine,” Nel jokes.

“Uhhmm, what else…” a thought pops up, and you guess you can tell him. It doesn’t reveal anything the whole world doesn’t already know. “The prince is dating Adaline Dupree.”

His eyebrows raise, remembering, “Oh yeah, that’s right, the prince goes to your school now.”

“Yep.”

“Have you met him?”

Is he seriously not completely shocked at the prince dating Adaline? You only bitched about her to him all the time.

“Uhhh… yep, once or twice, I guess.” 

You hate it. You hate lying, especially to Nel. You hate it so much, but it’s for the greater good. It’s to keep the peace. But that doesn’t stop the burning feeling in your chest nor the roil in your belly.

“The day he arrived Yuri dragged me down to see him speak. She made us sit front row because Yuri,” Nel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. “He had everyone assemble to hear why he was at school and tell us not to treat him like a prince. He wants to be able to study without his title getting in the way.”

You hit your blinker, making a one handed left turn. 

“Makes sense. Is he nice at least?” Nel doesn’t sound at all suspicious, and why should he? You’ve never given him reason to not believe you at your word before. Never lied to him before.

Fuck you hate this so much. It was so much easier when he was 5000 miles away. But now that he's right beside you? This week may end up being more difficult than you thought.

“He was very princely. Tried to kiss my hand like he did like every other girl there, but I made it a handshake instead. Figured if he wants to be treated like everyone else, I would liste—Oh!” you laugh before you can even get the words out.

“What?” he asks, intrigued but confused.

You can barely speak coherently. “You should have seen Yuri’s face when I called him Jungkook and not Prince or Your Highness...her eyes nearly fell out of her head,” tears are starting to form from laughing so hard. “It was great.”

“He didn’t mind?” Nel asks and you shake your head. Yuri’s face that day will forever be seared into your brain for whenever you need a pick-me-up. 

“No, he was grateful actually. I was the first person that had addressed him like that, the way he’d asked to be.” Stopping at a red light, you're finally regaining yourself.

“Well,” he squeezes your hand, “you always were good at first impressions,” and looks at you so softly you can’t help but smile into the kiss you give him. 

He remembers that school art fair just as fondly as you do. 

Nel pulls away first with a thought. “Is Yuri with us this time?” 

Yuri hadn’t been able to go home last year, her parents too busy on a work trip, so she stayed back and kicked it with you two, but also gave you your space when needed.

Lots and lots of space.

“Nope! Parents welcomed her with open arms this afternoon, I’m sure. They’re all on some tropical island down south. She’s bringing me an ocean bottle though, so I’m excited for that. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to add a new one.”

Everytime you travelled somewhere with a beach you got a glass bottle and filled it with half sand, half water, added in some shells or rocks and labelled it. Instead of towels, keychains, or magnets, you did ocean bottles. They lined a shelf in your room back home. 

You probably have at least fifteen of them by now. Your mum likes to travel and make sure you experience the world around you, not just your little corner of it.

“Oh that’s great babe! I know how much you love those.”

“Yeah, it is.” You lean your head on his shoulder, basking in his presence for as long as the light remains red. 

He’s here. He’s yours. 

You only have to do this for a couple more years and then you’ll be together all the time. God you can’t wait. But you are nothing if not disciplined. 

And it’s going to be so worth it in the end.

The rest of the ride to your dorm goes by quickly. 

Some more red lights, some more kisses. You point out the same things you always do on the way back, and Nel acts like it’s the first time he’s seen them, just like he always does.

His hand never leaves yours over the center console. 

Soon enough, you find yourselves flopping down on your bed. Bags, jackets and shoes, scattered. Nel pulls you into him, his head on your pillow, yours lying on his chest. True peace settling in for the first time in months.

“I can't wait until we’re done school and I have more than four and a half months with you a year,” he sighs.  “It’s not enough. I want more. Need more.”

“Me too. But good things come to those who wait.”

“Yeah…I’m just really sick of waiting.” 

“Me too,” you repeat in a yawn. 

Nel’s breathing slowly evens out as you lie there, content to be in your arms again. And you look up to see his eyes closed, warm exhales brushing over your face from his nose. 

You can’t blame him for being so tired. He’d had an early morning exam before flying out, even brought his suitcase to it so he could leave the second he was done. Then, the flight alone was ten hours, plus travel times to and from the airports was about an hour each way, and the wait time before boarding was another two. 

Shit, he’s probably been awake for around eighteen hours straight at this point because he’s also the type that can’t sleep on planes no matter what he tries. 

Oh, Nel...Of course he’s exhausted.

Giving him a squeeze before getting up, you take off his socks and jeans carefully, then tuck him into bed as much as you can. You’d try the sweater, but it involved too many working parts and you didn’t want to wake him, so you figure it’s best to have the window open tonight instead. 

Grabbing your phone, you tiptoe to the bathroom and do your night time routine. It’s not an overly complicated one, just brushing your teeth, washing your face and a simple 3 step skincare routine of cleanser, toner and moisturizer. Short and sweet, but it does the job. 

Halfway through brushing, you do your friend due diligence and send Yuri a ‘back safe’ text, just like she’d sent you her own ‘here safe’ when she’d landed.

You spit and rinse, moving onto washing your face and applying cleanser.

Teeth clean and face moisturized, you sneak into your room again. Nel's still out cold. 

You sneak out of habit—your mom wakes at the sound of a pin dropping. But absolutely nothing could wake Nel now outside of his mother’s voice and his morning alarm. It’s a talent of his you’ve always been jealous of.  

Removing today's clothes and tossing them in your overflowing hamper—reminder to self: do laundry—you slide on your pjs and climb into bed beside him, plugging in your phone and setting it down. 

A thought pops into your head and you pick it back up, shooting a quick text before you can think twice. 

You [11:26pm]: home safe

It pings not seconds later.

PJK [11:26pm]: Thanks Picasso  PJK [11:27pm]: glad ur home safe

Your heart beats a little louder at the nickname, and you chalk it up to the excitement still in you at having Nel here and being tired. 

But you sleep better that night than you have in a long time. 

A short, repetitive, rhythmic vibration. 

Picasso [11:26pm]: home safe

Jungkook is still standing in the same corner by the wall, Adaline somewhere in the crowd in front of him dancing with her friends. She asked him to join her, but he declined. He doesn’t need to see himself more than half drunk and dancing on the cover of tomorrow’s news cycles. Not to mention his security team would shut the party down the second a camera flashed.

His guards are carefully stationed throughout the house, all dressed down in casual wear, a few with empty cups in their hands. One is watching some sort of beer pong like game in the corner, another is mingling with some guys over in the kitchen. Three he can’t immediately see. And he knows his head guard is outside in a black car ready to get him out at a moment's notice.

Nobody can tell they aren’t here for the party, not unless they’re sober enough to notice watchful eyes continually making their way over the crowd as the night goes on. 

Your text woke him from the stillness he’s adapted from standing so long, trying hard not to draw attention to himself. 

You were home safe. Home safe from the airport. Home safe from picking up Cornelius. 

Your boyfriend. 

Cornelius, your boyfriend. 

He doesn’t acknowledge his teeth grinding.

You were home from picking up your beau but even then, you’d texted him to let him know you were back on campus safely. To let him know you were okay. 

It’s the first thing that makes him smile all night.

So he sends back, a bit to quickly: 

Me [11:26pm]: Thanks Picasso Me [11:26pm]: glad ur home safe

Because it means something to him that you deem him close enough to send a ‘home safe’ text too. 

That you want him to know you’re back.  

Want him to know you’re safe.

Whether you know it or not, your safety means a lot to Jungkook, so that little two word text makes his heart lurch. 

He needs to leave. 

He needs to get out of this fucking house and back to his dorm. He came, he drank, he observed, he fulfilled his boyfriend duty.

That’s enough for him. 

He shoots Adaline a text that says he isn’t feeling well and gets out as fast as he possibly can, dodging bodies left and right and doing his best to hide his face. 

Once he’s out, security team in tow, the cooling midnight air does him some good. 

“Someone make sure she gets back to her dorm safe,” he says in their general direction, brain too muddled to be polite in this exact moment, but it’s nothing they haven’t seen before. 

This is going to be such a long week.

He can’t wait till it’s over. Till he doesn’t have to share anymore. 

He was never very good at it anyway. 

The smell of bacon wakes you. 

And toast, and…

Eggs? 

You think, at least. Since when do you have bacon? Or eggs? Toast is a given, it’s part of your life’s blood.

Opening your eyes, you blindly reach for your phone, successfully unplugging it and bringing it to your face.

The screen is too bright but you suffer through it, squinting.

9:27am. 

9:27? 

You slept for ten hours!?

You can’t remember the last time you slept more than 6 consecutively, aside from recovery nights, and even then it was fitful.

Nel comes in with two plates, his full with a very Eastern breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon. Yours with two pieces of toast, lots of bacon, a bit of eggs and some fruit. Where did he—?

He smiles at your confusion, “You have a cafeteria that sells breakfast food, you know.”

You know that.

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because the look on your face says otherwise.”

You flop back down and pull the pillow over your head, mumbling incoherent nonsense. You rarely used the dorm cafeteria for breakfast. Much preferring the greenhouse cafe or simple toast and juice that you can make in your dorm.

He chuckles. “Two breakfasts for me then, okay, if you insist,” Nel moves to leave but you screech, uncovering your face.

“Noo! I want it. Please, sweet nutrition,” he hands the plate over when you sit up, arms out stretched, and you dig in. 

After a piece of bacon, you ask, “How long have you been up?”

Nel’s sitting with his legs crossed at the end of your bed, munching away, “Long enough to get changed, grab my wallet, get food and come back.”

The bacon is really good. You’ve never been so glad he knew you so well as you grab another piece from the dwindling pile.

“You slept well then, too? That’s good, I’m glad. You needed the rest.”

“Having you around always makes it easier to fall asleep,” he nudges your knee with his elbow.

Even after five years he can still make you blush.

“I know the feeling.”

You two fall into step, starting your weeks in advance prepared plans, the rest of your day passing quickly. 

Too quickly. 

And so does the next day, and the next, and the next. 

All of your activities are going great. The zoo, picnics, study dates, restaurant dates, historical, artistic and architectural museum tours. Even a swim at the school’s indoor pool, and there’s plenty more to come. 

Things slip back into being easy, just as they always have been with Nel, ever since that first day back in tenth grade. 

He knows you like the back of his hand and predicts your moves before you make them, just like you do for him. 

You know his favourite foods, and where he prefers to park when driving—always avoiding open curbs—you know his dream travel destinations, and who his favourite musicians are. You know his favourite pencils to design with and his favourite pencils to shade with, that he always put on his right sock first, then right shoe, then left sock and left shoe. You know that his drink order is an iced coffee with two cream and two sugar, that he prefers loose shirts over fitted ones, and that his favourite colour is orange.

It’s a pretty orange too, not just any orange. You wonder if it’s anything like Jungkook's–

Wait. 

You search your memory for the information, going through favourite foods, drinks, music—all discussed previously, because you know their answers. But colour?

Nothing.

How have you never asked what Jungkook’s favourite colour is?

Isn’t that usually one of the first things people ask when they’re trying to get to know one another? Funny. Guess you’ll have to inquire the next time you see him. 

Anyways, just like you know everything there is to know about Nel, he knows everything about you too, including your routines. 

Which is why at twelve noon every day, he starts getting ready to go to the greenhouse for your afternoon study session.

Including today.  

Your week’s already half over and you hate it. Time always moves far to fast when all you want it to do is slow the fuck down. 

You only have five days left. Five days.

You’re lucky the greenhouse cafe is open during break, some places on campus are required to stay open for the students who can’t make it home, but greenhouse chooses to. 

As you and Nel turn the corner you see a familiar figure sitting in his old spot at the back of the patio. The same hat, mask and hoodie, now paired with a leather jacket on top due to the weather starting to cool down.

You can tell Jungkook wasn’t expecting to see you by the way he stiffens before those all too familiar brown eyes of his meet your own. Which is fair, your schedule shifts a bit when you’re on break, he isn’t used to you being here at twelve on Wednesdays. 

But as quickly as he sees you, his gaze is back on his laptop, like he never saw you in the first place. 

Like you asked him to do. 

And a sharp pain stings inside your chest.

When you and Nel get to your table, he sits in the seat opposite to where you always do, leaving where Jungkook usually sits beside you, empty. 

A part of you is grateful for that, though you can’t figure out why and table that self discussion for a later date. 

Setting down your things, you ask Nel if he wants coffee. He answers yes, like always, and after a quick visit with Viv, you're pulling out your chair and setting down your cups. Your back faces Jungkook. It’s a small mercy you can’t see him. Maybe you can forget he’s here and actually focus on your work. 

But it’s also exactly because of your position, that you can’t see as Jungkook subtly watches you over the rim of his laptop while you and Nel talk quietly and study. 

Nel can though. 

It feels weird to ignore him. To pretend you don’t know one another when for the better part of the last seven weeks all you’ve done is talk, hang out, study or a mixture of the three, every day. 

When having him sit behind you and not beside you feels so wrong and so foreign. 

But this is your own doing, you caused this. So you need to suck it up and get used to it. 

This is exactly what you asked for all those weeks ago. The perfect solution to your problem. 

No one can know. 

Not Nel. 

Not anyone. 

But fuck, if it didn’t absolutely suck in practice. 

Setting some of your books out around you and on the table Jungkook usually uses, you dig into your business homework. Having a major and a minor are great for job prospects, on paper, and in practice after you’ve completed them.

But getting them? It takes years of hard work and dedication with no distractions. 

None.  

You spend almost every free moment you have doing homework or practicing, trying to get ahead, trying to stay on top.

…Trying to beat Adaline. 

But you just use that as fuel for your drive to be better. To be the best. 

Competition is healthy. Especially when you’re winning against the rich brat who’s used to getting what she wants. 

Not that you're petty.

Ehh…You are. But only a little bit. At least you can admit it.

Nel gets to work as well, the sunlight from his spot is great for drawing. He’s working on a rough version of his thesis project that’s due at the end of the year. He has to have multiple completed renderings as well as a scale model, and he’s been brainstorming since last year about what he wants to do.

Currently, he’s drawing up an airport, trying to design so that it’s not confusing and complicated for first time users. 

However, his occasional swearing and muttering to himself makes you think he’s having a tough time with it. 

You try not to laugh, but a small giggle slips out. 

“What,” Nel asks, a little distracted.

“Nothing.”

“No really, what’s up? I could use a laugh right now,” he insists, eyes on you at first. But then something behind you steals their attention every few seconds. 

Someone. 

“You just…you still make funny sounds when you're frustrated with a drawing. It’s endearing.” You reach to place your hand on his knee, trying to gain back his full attention. 

Ignore him, Nel. Please ignore him. 

“Yeah...” he exhales. “I guess airports are out,” his hand covers yours quickly and you hear a faint chair screech from behind you. Nel doesn’t miss it as he says. “But I do have a much bigger appreciation and understanding for all those who came before me,” pupils now unmoving from their target behind you. 

Fine. 

You’ll acknowledge it. 

“Is everything okay? You keep looking at something? Is there an animal or…” You know what he’s looking at, but go so far as to turn anyway, playing up the ‘confused girlfriend’ role. But Nel squeezes your hand, stopping you. 

He leans in, placing a fake mask of serene on and lowers his voice. “That guy keeps looking at us, moreso you. And he looks pissed off.”

Fuck, think of something.

Anything. Anythi—Oh!

You lean in too, so close your noses almost touch. “He’s probably just upset we’re talking. The greenhouse cafe is usually a quiet place to work,” good enough, you think. That’s believable, right?. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just ignore him and get back to work.”

You place a quick kiss on his lips but Nel isn’t letting up on his unnecessary vigilance. But then again, he doesn’t know that Jungkook is the opposite of a threat to you. So you reassure him, in your own way.  

“Babe, seriously. If you’re going to be all protective or whatever, don’t. I come here everyday when you're not here and I’m still alive and unharmed. Go get a sandwich or a refill to get your head off of it and say hi to Viv. She’s still here, and I’m betting she remembers you. You’re kinda hard to forget.” 

You can tell Nel’s about to reject the idea when you insist. “I’ll be fine, Nel. Promise. Three years and not a scratch on me.” 

He sighs through his nose, but relents. 

Placing his drawing pad on the table, he gets up, but not before placing another kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “Scream ‘cumquat’ if you’re in danger and I’ll come running, okay?” 

You laugh outright at that. “Will do.”

You watch him as he goes, and the second he’s inside, you’re racing for your phone, typing at an astounding speed.

You [1:45pm]: Didn’t your royal upbringing teach you not to stare so blatantly!??? Nel caught you

You hear a quiet ping from behind you followed by a small exhale that sounds more like a disguised chuckle. 

PJK [1:45pm]: Yes.  

You [1:45pm]: So you intentionally got caught?

PJK [1:45pm]: Maybe

You [1:45pm]: Shithead

PJK [1:46pm]: Rude

You [1:46pm]: You deserve it

PJK [1:46pm]: I know. I’m just making sure he’s treating you right.  PJK [1:47pm]: and trying to see if he acts differently when he knows he’s being watched. He’s very protective you know 

Jungkook saw the second Nel noticed he was watching you. 

His posture changed from easy going to on alert. His hand went so quickly to yours on his knee and his public displays of affection increased significantly. 

It was pathetic, really. It went above a normal amount of protection. Nel was claiming his ‘property’, making sure Jungkook knew not to touch. 

And the nasty look Nel gave him as he entered the cafe—gratefully still unrecognizable in his disguise—was another silent way to say back off, stay away, and don’t try anything or you’ll regret it. 

It was a red flag in Jungkook's mind. A small one, but it’s still there because his efforts are completely unneeded. After five years together, Nel should know that you can handle yourself. 

Hell, Jungkook knows that and it’s only been two months. 

You [1:47pm]: yes I know he is, and I already told you he treats me well because he always. Does. Not just in public or under watchful eyes  You [1:48pm]: and since when does my boyfriend of half a decade need your ~princely~ seal approval?

He ignores the small jab. You only ever brought up his title when you were mocking or upset with him. And he knows that in this case it's the latter.

PJK [1:48pm]: Since now PJK [1:49pm]: And it’s not that I don’t trust you at your word, but I usually like to decide for myself

That has you reeling. 

Where does he get the audacity to think he has any say in or about your relationship? Your very solidly built, five years strong, healthy, happy relationship?

Because he’s the Prince? You’re pretty sure you established on day one that you didn’t and still don’t give a fuck about his birthright. 

If he thinks he gets an opinion on any of this he’s got another thing coming the second he asks you anything about Adaline again. 

You’re in the middle of typing out a paragraph explaining all of this when another text comes in.  

PJK [1:49pm]: Because I’ve seen far too many women in love who are blind to certain things PJK [1:50pm]: And far too many hurt in the end because of it. 

You pause. Fingers frozen mid swipe.

Blind to what?

How many women did he know that were in love but missing something about their partner? Surely there couldn't be that many. Right? 

But this was Jungkook you were talking to, he’s lived numerous lifetimes already. That fancy birthright of his you don’t care about having given him far too many life experiences to have at his age. And they’re only going to increase from here.

So instead of hitting send and cursing him out quite spectacularly, you stop and think for a moment. 

What did he see that they didn’t? 

That you might… not?

You’re a decent judge of character if your record tracks. And it does. 

So your curiosity gets the better of you as you delete your rage paragraph and settle for a simple two word question instead. 

You [1:50pm]: Like what?

You can see that he’s typing out a response but the bell on the cafe door rings and you put your phone down. It buzzes with his response a few seconds after. 

You’ll check it later.

Nel takes his seat again, and you notice he has his sandwich, but also that he’s moved his chair and starts sketching from the new position giving him a direct eye line with Jungkook. 

You internally scoff at that. 

Nel has always been protective. But he was raised that way and you don’t mind too much. You don’t expect him to change his core values for you, just like he never expects you to change yours for him, even when a couple of his are just the slightest bit overbearing. 

But that’s part of a relationship. Give and take and compromise. No one person is going to be perfect for another. It’s healthy to have differences. 

That being said, Nel doesn’t change positions for the rest of the hour. Even as Jungkook packs up and leaves, Nel eyeballs him until he’s out of sight. 

That night while Nel is brushing his teeth and you're lying in bed, you check the text from Jungkook. 

PJK [1:51pm]: Like if they’re getting treated the way they should be or if they’re settling for the best they think they can get or for the first guy that showed interest. The one who hasn’t grown up even though time has passed. The one who’s holding her back by not setting her free

You stare at your phone. At the text. At his words. 

And dismiss it. 

You aren’t one of those women. 

You know yourself. 

You know what you deserve and how you should be treated. You didn’t settle, you just happened to find your love at a young age. That’s something special and rare and should be protected. And Nel has most certainly grown up as time passed. 

Jungkook is being ridiculous for absolutely no reason. Surely he’ll have seen that today. Seen how Nel loves you, treats you how you deserve to be treated, holds you up. Supports you. 

You’re confident he’ll be eating his words soon enough.

Finished brushing, Nel comes back to the bedroom and snuggles up behind you and you put down your phone. 

He cuddles you for a minute before placing a kiss at your neck. Then another. And another before he’s mouthing up your neck, and sliding a hand up your thigh and to your waist. It pauses on your stomach with teasing caresses, before dipping lower and lower, beneath the fabric of your sleep shorts, and under the elastic of your underwear. 

A small moan sounds in your throat at the touch. His fingers meeting your folds and the sensitive bundle of nerves at their apex.

You wanted this. 

Need it. 

He’s grown, you think; as a finger slips in you and you gasp at the stretch, legs opening wider for him. A second finger plunges in and you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every thrust. Just like you can feel a bulge forming behind you. 

You know what you deserve; as he uses them to scissor you open, making sure you’re ready. You roll over, now on your back with Nel over you as he pulls your shorts and underwear down to get better access, your own hands removing your shirt.

You’re not settling; as Nel moves down, tongue making a couple swipes at your entrance and you hiss in pleasure before he’s reaching over, grabbing a condom from the nightstand drawer and sliding it on, length hard and dripping at the sight of you bared before him. 

Nel wasn’t the first guy who’d shown interest, just the first you’d said yes to; and he slides in. Both of you moaning at the snug fit.

“Fuck...” he says and you nod, agreeing, before pulling him down into a deep kiss.

He eases into a slow, steady rhythm that has you breathy and his abs tensing. 

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need to erase these past two months without him, and take enough to last for the next two. It’s never enough, but you try. 

“Faster baby,” you beg, “Please…faster.”

Nel isn’t holding you back. Jungkook doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. 

Nel picks up the pace and you start moaning, louder like you know he likes. Likes to hear he’s doing a good job. He’s grabbing your breast and sucking in a nipple, tongue swirling and you're bringing your hips to meet his with every thrust. 

It feels good. It always feels good with Nel. 

He was your first everything. First kiss, first intimate touch, first love. 

Only love.

And he makes you feel good with that love. That touch. His kiss.

He makes you feel safe, inside and out. 

Jungkook can go eat grass. He doesn’t know your relationship. Doesn’t know the first thing about it. 

“There, right there!” you whine as Nel hits your sweet spot once and you arch. He tries again but misses, continuing faster, his peak coming quickly. 

Jungkook can never understand what you two have. What you two have built in these five years. The understanding and security that comes with it. 

He’s being an unrightfully opinionated ass on something he knows nothing about and— 

Fuck! Why are you thinking about Jungkook? You’re having sex with Nel. You shouldn’t be thinking about anything or anyone other than that. 

Than him. 

So why can’t you get what Jungkook said out of your fucking head?

“Ahhh… oh fuck. I’m cumming.” Nel’s hips stutter, his face contorting in pleasure as he releases, filling the condom.

You kiss him passionately to rid yourself of your princely plagued thoughts, the ones filling you with unwanted and unnecessary doubt. You want them gone, gone, gone. Nothing but Nel in their place. 

And you slip an, “I love you,” in between kisses for good measure. 

Jungkook could never understand. 

Nel kisses you back just as hard, dramatically slowing his thrusts, drawing out his high for as long as possible. 

“I love you too.”

Jungkook doesn’t know anything. 

Nel groans into your lips when it becomes too much and pulls out. 

Removing and tying off the condom, Nel goes to the washroom to throw it out and starts the shower he knows you’ll be joining him for when you're done. 

A routine you’re all too familiar with. 

One you created. 

He knows you need a few minutes to get yourself off. 

You’ve never been able to cum from sex with a partner. No matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did. 

Most would think Nel wasn’t a good lover or wasn’t trying enough, but it was through years of constantly trying anything and everything that you learned you just…couldn’t. 

No amount of fingering or oral or penetration from your partner could make you orgasm. 

So Nel knows to wait for you in the shower as you finish yourself off, your own fingers making quick work of it, because you always could for some reason. 

It isn’t your ideal situation, and it isn’t anyone’s fault. But it works. You both get the intimacy you crave and you accepted a long time ago that you were just one of the unlucky few. 

Screams fill Jungkook’s ears as a hand finds his hair and nails rake against his scalp. 

Adaline isn’t a quiet receiver. 

“Ohmygod!” She shouts for the twentieth time. “Yes! There…so goo-oohhhh,” the last syllable turning into a loud moan. 

He’s holding her downwith a forearm by her pelvis, mouth full as he brings out her third orgasm of the night, juices flooding his tongue. 

He’s working out earlier frustrations and proving a point to himself in this fucked up version of self therapy. 

He shouldn’t be. 

But he does.

Has to.

Seeing you today with Cornelius spurred feelings within him that he didn’t know he had. Sure, there were bits and pieces of something stirring he refused to name, but today? 

They were in a whole different ballpark. Different than anything else he’s ever felt before, brewing inside him, bubbling up to the surface even though he’s been trying his best to pop them and shove them down.

Anger? 

Feelings he doesn’t want to have. 

Jealousy? 

Does have. 

Wanting you to look at him the way you look at Nel?

Can’t have. 

Not for… 

He admits he provoked Nel because he could. Dick move, but it was because Jungkook knew just by looking at him that giving you any form of attention would piss him off.  He seemed the type. 

Overly possessive, overprotective. 

Overbearingly so. 

Suffocatingly so. 

Because Nel knows how lucky he is. That you chose him. That you still choose him. 

He knows he has to keep others away. 

Knows he isn’t good enough for you, holds you back. But keeps you anyway.

The selfish prick. 

So Jungkook eyed you up and down, leisurely, and for as long as he wanted. Purely out of the need to prove to himself he was right about his little assessment of your boyfriend. At least that’s what he told himself. 

Was it childish and unnecessary? 

Yes. 

But he was right. And that felt good. 

He could see in your posture and your hushed words you didn’t want Nel’s protection, didn’t need it, and that Nel ignored that wish of yours. Did what he wanted to instead of respecting your ability to make decisions for yourself. Bulldozed your opinions. 

It pissed Jungkook off. 

He’d left a little while after sending you that text to read, but you never did. At least not since the last time he checked. And so he’d made plans with Adaline the second he was out of your earshot. Calling her up and setting a time for what’s currently taking up his primary focus. 

Because even though it was Adaline underneath him, for the very first time, that’s not who he imagined it was. 

Not who he just dragged a fourth orgasm out of with his fingers because he could. 

Because he would. He would be so much better. Give so much more. If only… 

Fuck.

Jungkook stands and drags his cock over Adaline’s entrance, whacking it against her clit a couple times before running the tip through her folds and pushing in. He hisses at the feeling. At who he was sinking into in his head, splayed out in front of him. Skin glistening with sweat mixed with arousal. Mouth open, slack jawed in pleasure. 

Adaline moans loudly and it dissolves his visual. 

His tattooed hand moves to hold her hands above her head, the other silences her mouth. 

“Quiet now,” he whispers, low and deep. A bead of sweat dripping off his brow, hair sticking to his neck and temple.

He intends it to be sexy for her, but in reality, he’s just sick of hearing her. It’s ruining his mental image. Not that she’ll ever know that though. 

To Adaline, this session is all about her and making her feel good. 

But constant screams and loud, pornographic moans aren’t appealing to him in the slightest. They're taking him out of the mood. Making him soft. 

Once or twice when it’s genuine? Sure. But the constant assault she loves to give his eardrums? Not even a little bit.

He sets a fast, rough pace, and Adaline’s eyes roll back in pleasure, screams finally subsiding in white hot bliss, replaced by bitten lips and smothered whimpers.

He is going to prove this point to himself over and over again. All night if he has to. 

And he has to.  

To get whatever it is he’s feeling for you out of his system.

To keep his sanity. 

To forget. 

And while it’s Adaline’s name is on his lips when he cums. 

It’s not the name he repeats in his head like a prayer. 

Chapter Seven: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

A/N 2: Thanks for waiting for this chapter. I'll try my best to have 7 out as soon as I can get it. I promise.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[sunsetchicane]

Postcards - Part 3 [LN4]

lando norris x [travel] journalist fem!reader

find the series here

word count: 5.2k

summary: The one where you're in Paris and you can't stop thinking about him and you find yourself giving him a call.

warnings: angsts again (sorry! I swear it's turning around), swearing, innuendo, unedited!

author's note: hey...sorry this took so long??? college is crazy guys. but anyways, I'm a little rusty so be gentle lmao. please enjoy and I'll see you guys SOON!! feedback, comments, likes whatever you feel like is so much appreciated. Lots of love [xoxo elle]

Lando

Nov. 2022

The lights of Abu Dhabi blind Lando as he stands next to his car and removes his helmet from his head. Ending P6 was respectable, a good end to a mediocre at best season. His head swims with the noise that swallows the track and the flashing lights that light up the night race. Another season was officially in the books. There’s always a bittersweet feeling that hits all the drivers as they jump out of their cars for the last race of the season, letting the months past become another chapter of history. An excitement for the break ahead and the promise of a new season buoys their spirits, but it’s a hard goodbye nonetheless. 

Lando absentmindedly walks around to congratulate everyone, shaking hands and sharing smiles. Though, his heart isn’t in it. His focus splintered the second he left the car. Thoughts drift towards you. They always do. There’s never a day that passes that you aren’t on his mind, on his heart.

Flashing cameras surround him, capturing this moment. He thinks of you.

Journalists with microphones tucked into their hands yell words into a camera lens. He thinks of you.

Faces flashing in and out of sight, bodies swarming around him as his eyes search the crowd. He’s looking for you.

But you aren’t there. There was no reason for you to be there. The last time you spoke, the London night surrounded you and held you together. To this day, when he closes his eyes, he can still feel your lips on his. Somedays, he makes it through with just this memory alone spurring him on. He promised to see you in Monaco, but every time he called your office, you were gone. Every time he showed up at your cubicle, it was deserted. A layer of dust collected over everything. 

A thin layer of dust covering a framed picture of Big Ben lit from behind by the setting sun.

After so many futile attempts of trying to find you, to connect again, he slowly stopped trying. There was an obvious truth behind the estrangement of your paths: you were avoiding him. 

At first, he rejected the idea, claiming to only himself that you wouldn’t do that. He was convinced that you felt the same way that he did. There was something between the two of you that was beyond anything he had ever felt. Your passion inspired him. Your humor warmed him. Your presence set him at ease in such a way that the whole world could be burning and he would be perfectly content to just hold you in his arms. 

He’d never felt that way about anyone. Not even close.

So for a long time, longer than he would ever admit, he clutched onto hope. 

But with each passing week with not a single word from you, faith began to slip. With every message that went unanswered and phone call that went straight to the voicemail of your office phone, his grip on you loosened. 

He’d be the first to admit his lack of maturity. He wasn’t ashamed of still being a kid. Instead, he wore it like a badge of honor, making it part of his personal brand. If it wasn’t for you, he would never have thought twice about growing up to be the man that you deserved. But now that you’re gone, slipping into memory, he’s found himself back in his comfortable corner of immaturity. 

So, after hurrying through all of his post-race interviews and duties with the team, he finds himself taking solace in the night life of Abu Dhabi.

Alcohol had never really been his thing, but recently the appeal has been becoming more and more obvious to him. Round after round is poured down his throat, burning every memory of you away for the night. Intoxication holds you at bay, at least for a while. 

“Slow down, mate.” Max laughs into his ear while Lando tosses back yet another shot of something. He’s had enough that everything tastes the same now.

“I’m celebrating!” Lando slurs, shoving Max square in the chest. They stumble together, laughing as they nearly fall over. The world is a haze of flickering neon lights. Music and voices blend into a loud hum, everything becoming one to drunk ears.

Lando collapses haphazardly onto the couch in the club, quickly followed by Max. With hooded eyes, they watch the dance floor in front of them. The mass of the crowd seems to move as one, enchanting Lando’s drunk mind. The night coalesces and crests like a wave, ebbing and flowing as one singular, living thing. Everything seems interconnected and endless. If he could, Lando would stay in this feeling forever. Nothing hurts, nothing is joyful, everything is completely numb.

“I miss her.” He says, but the usual pain that accompanies those words is nowhere to be found.

“I know,” Max says, his head falling back while he closes his eyes.

“I hate her.” Lando says emotionlessly. Max doesn’t respond. It isn’t true. They both know that it isn’t. But for tonight, they can pretend. 

Lando can pretend that it doesn’t matter that he pushes himself off the couch when he catches the eye of a girl that looks somewhat like you. He can pretend that he doesn’t think about you as he dances behind her, his hands gripping her hips to hold her close. He can pretend that he doesn’t wish it was your neck that his lips trail up towards her jaw. He has to pretend when he finds himself asking her to leave with him. 

And when he finds himself that night, tangled up with a girl who’s name he doesn’t bother to remember, he gives up pretending and thinks only of you. Of your lips, of your body, of the way it would feel to have you around him. Your voice calling out his name in the quiet hours of the morning. 

He hates you.

He hates not having you.

This isn’t the first time that he’s tried to heal his sorrow with momentary pleasure. No, in fact, he’s done this a handful of times and each time he tries he hopes that this will be the girl to erase you from his life. But she never is. He’s a fool for trying the same thing over and over again expecting a miracle.

“Stay,” she mumbles into her pillow, a delicate hand draping across his chest. It’s cold against his hot skin. He turns his face away from her so she can’t see him cringe. Gently, Lando slides her hand away and returns it to her side. 

“Can’t,” He says while sliding to the edge of the bed and away from her. For a few moments while he rubs the sleepiness from his eyes, he listens to her groan and complain. He’s so tired. With a huff, he stands and collects his clothes that are strewn about the luxurious room. 

As he pulls his clothes on, he listens to the soft rustling of silk sheets and the steady in and out of sleeping breaths. But everything seems a thousand miles away, so cold and distant. In the slight hours of the morning, nothing feels real. He’s numb and tired. He’s cold and exhausted of feeling the same pain from the moment he wakes up to the time he finally is graced by merciful sleep. 

Spiraling thoughts plague Lando’s mind as he wanders the slips into the back of an uber. Glossy eyes scan the world as it streams by him in the back window of some random car. How many times has he lived this night? Every car ride back to his apartment or hotel room feels the same, blending into one continuous stream of dull memory. 

Stumbling into his hotel room, he heads straight to his bed without a second thought. Discarding his clothes onto the floor for the second time tonight, he can’t help but wish he’d been here sooner. There isn’t solace for him in someone else’s bed, and when he’s alone he doesn’t have to pretend there is. He’s sick of playing pretend and putting a mask on for himself, for his friends, for his team, and the millions of people watching him under a microscope. The truth and the pressure of that truth has weighed on him for months.

He’s heartbroken. He’s suffering. And there’s nothing to be done about it. He hasn’t had the chance to heal and he doesn’t know when he will–if he will. Because when he thinks of you, it’s like a knife of what could have been to the chest; and when he blocks you from his mind he feels guilty and hopelessly alone. 

A spinning ceiling and tears in his eyes coax him to sleep.

He dreams of you, of course. Even sleep can’t free him of you.

You

The City of Love and Lights has been a whirlwind for you over the last few days. This new piece on an up and coming grunge artist hailing from the infamous streets of Paris has become larger than you originally thought. Night and day, you’ve been chained to your laptop, cranking out a story worthy of its subject matter. 

Tonight, you’ve decided to dive into your work at some random cafe down the street from where you’re staying. Headphones on and phone turned off, you’ve been plugged in for hours. Countless cappuccinos have been downed since you came in which could be three days or minutes ago, you wouldn’t know. Only when the noise at the bar grows from a quiet, sporadic chatter to a distracting, constant hum of voices, do you look up from your work. 

The sun has set, giving the streets a chance to live up to the name “City of Lights.” People and cars whiz past you, everyone on their way somewhere. The crowd at the cafe has gone from a few coffee sippers to a mass of people huddled around the bar ordering drinks for them and their friends. 

Realizing you’ve lost yourself in your work, you rub the heels of your hands against your tired eyes. With a sigh, you fold up your notes and tuck them away into your bag along with your laptop. You gather up your empty dishes and mugs, placing them in the bin above the trash.

Just as you turn towards the exit, ready to slip to your bed and sleep for hours and hours, cheering rises up around you. A name you take care to avoid ripples through the crowd. A small group of people are huddled around the bar, chests pressed to backs, heads leaned in, trying to get a glimpse at something.

Biting hard on your bottom lip, you fight yourself. Your eyes flicker out to the darkened streets of Paris and then back to the group of people who must be watching the season’s final race. As much as you hated yourself for it, of course you kept up with the Formula One season. It was the only connection you had to Lando. Distant, impersonal, and safe. You could keep your eye on him, see his face every once in a while, but not fall in again. At least that’s what you told yourself every time you went out of your way to stream a race, no matter where you were. 

It had been ages since you saw him in London. Some days it feels like a lifetime ago, and most times it feels as fresh as yesterday. You wake up with the feeling of his lips on yours, his arms wrapped around you. 

And maybe it’s the romantic in you that you’ve tried to kill and bury your whole life, but the thing you miss most about him is his stupid smile. There’s such complete joy behind that smile. It lights you up in your darkest moments, lifting you up and warming you. There isn’t anything that you wouldn’t give to be able to see that smile just one more time.

But you can’t. So, you turn your back on the crowd of Formula fans and walk out onto the street. 

As you walk, you try to distract yourself by taking in the scenery or by thinking of your story. But of course every train of thought leads back to him. You know Lando would love Paris. He wouldn’t admit it, of course. He would rather die than let anyone know how much of a romantic he is. The two of you are similar in that way.

At least you think so. So much time has passed, you can’t really say that you know him at all. Sure, you’ve spent a little time together, but life is constantly changing. You don’t know who he is today, what he hates today, what he loves. All you’ve ever gotten of each other is fleeting moments. And you’re to blame.

Countless times you’ve gone over it in your head. Playing every single scenario out over and over, trying to find the one where it could work between you two. But every time, you come to the same conclusion: it never will.

Even if you could convince yourself not to run at the first chance, which you always will, your lives are too different. His job would be pulling him one way while yours would be pulling you to the opposite corner of the world. Constantly in motion, but never intersecting. No matter how much you want it to, his and your futures won’t bend to fit. It tears you apart.

When you’re not traveling or writing for work, you find yourself filling pages with his name and the pain that comes with it. Your messy, ink blotted notebooks are filled cover to cover with insane ramblings of a broken heart. You can’t bring yourself to think of anyone else that way. When you try, it falls short and you do what you do best: you run.

The walk back to your hotel is blessedly quick. Being alone with your thoughts right now is torture, especially with idle hands. Everything seems a little bit easier when there’s a pen held in your fingers. 

Walking through the lobby, you try to keep your head down, not wanting anyone to bother you tonight. Bee-lining for the elevator, you wish you were already in your room. But, as the button lights up under your finger and the numbers above the doors make their descent, you can’t help but wonder what solace a lonely hotel room would bring you. Trapped in a shoebox of a room with nothing but an empty bed and a full mind. A premonition of staring at the ceiling for the next few hours, slowly driving yourself insane flashes in your mind’s eye.

Glancing over your shoulder, you look at the small bar off to the side of the lobby. It’s blessedly empty, only a few randoms sitting quietly here and there. Abandoning the elevator, you walk over to the bar. 

Drinking at a hotel bar isn’t an unfamiliar low for you. It might be sad and slightly pathetic, but it’s better than any other option you have right now. Actually, drowning your sorrows in Paris doesn’t really sound half bad, right? It could be an interesting anecdote in the long, melodramatic tale of your life post-Lando that you could tell Bobbi. She would laugh and commiserate with you over shitty frozen pizza that her son loved and a sweet wine that she loved.

With that thought, you order three vodka shots and a Diet Coke. Dropping your bag and coat in the seat next to you, you haul out the book you’ve been trying to chip away at when you have enough focus to read. Then you crack open your Coke and take two of your shots. Tossing your head back, you relish the burn of the liquid as it slides down your throat, but quickly chase it with your Coke to ease the pain.

Leaning forward onto the bar, you pry your book open and try to focus on the words inked onto the pages. 

Within minutes, your fingertips are buzzing and your face feels flushed. The words in front of your swirl and sway. Pausing your “reading,” you toss back your last shot, grimacing at the taste. Still, you tap the bartop with your fingers, signalling the bartender that you’re in need of his services.

The bartender is quick to place a new shot in front of you. Reaching out, you play with the small glass between your fingers while you continue to read. You don’t know how long you sit like that, your head battling between the effects of the alcohol and your desperation to focus on your book. 

Suddenly, a rhythmic buzzing pulls your already splintered attention away from the stupid book. You rummage through your bag, looking for your phone. When you find it and turn it over, you're met with a blank screen. There are a few random notifications from earlier that day, mostly work emails you hadn’t been bothered to respond to yet. 

“Salut,” The bartender says as he presses his phone to his ear. You watch as he turns away from the bar and mumbles into the receiver of his cellphone. Shamelessly, you watch the hushed conversation of the young, brunette bartender play out. He’s splashed in the soft orange light that filters through the rows of bottles against the wall of the bar. He laughs quietly while leaning his hip against the counter. The white button up of his uniform, his dark hair, and tanned skin are reminiscent of someone you’ve been trying to avoid thinking about all night. It’s surprising you’ve just noticed now. 

You don’t have to speak perfect French to know what he was talking about on the call, or who was on the other end. He was swaying and smiling, his fingers brushing across his lips while his eyes lit up with the fireworks you could practically hear going off in his chest.

A sharp pang of loneliness erupts in your chest.

You take another shot and wait. Abandoning your book, you trace the grain of the wood bartop with featherlight fingers. Time slows and your vision goes a little bit hazy. A sweet peace crashes over your consciousness. Your thoughts begin to slide together so you can’t identify where one thought starts and where a feeling ends. Everything feels delightfully airy and heavy at the same time, making your reality feel a little less real.

“Can I buy a bottle?” You ask suddenly. You weren’t really sure if you said it outloud or not, but when the bartender walks over to you with a bottle of vodka he’d been giving you shots from and tells you the price, you don’t even hesitate as you toss a few bills on the counter, covering everything. He bids you a goodnight as you snatch up the bottle along with your other belongings and make your way back to the elevator. 

The walk feels much easier the second time. You feel so much lighter, so much better. Your thoughts are far away, not plaguing you like they were earlier. Laying on your empty bed and losing yourself in an overly expensive pay-per-view movie sounds far more appealing than it did an hour ago as well.

You take the elevator to your floor, stumbling to your door. Fumbling with your key, you open the door, toss your stuff on the ground, and flop onto the bed, bottle in hand. Almost instantaneously, you turn on the television and peruse the movies. You buy The Proposal and lean back into your pillows while the title sequence plays. 

As you take another burning pull from the bottle in your hand, you think distantly that you should be ashamed of yourself. Drowning your sorrows alone in a hotel room in Paris. The word pathetic echoes around your head. You try to kill the thought with yet another swallow of alcohol. 

With a hazy mind, you watch as a badass, albeit definitely bitchy, Sandra Bullock string along a charismatic and endlessly sarcastic Ryan Renolds. 

“She’s not that bad,” You say into an empty room as she tears her jerk employee a new one. “She’s just career oriented.”

Projecting much? Your subconscious whispers to you.

You tip the bottle back.

And that sequence continues to happen as you watch the movie. Every time something touches a little too close to home, you drink. It’s like some sad drinking game that you’ve forced yourself to participate in.

By the time the credits roll, you’re plastered. Eyes trained to the ceiling, you try to sling together a single coherent thought. But you can’t. Everything in your mind seems to pop up quickly and then slip away before you can grab a hold on it.

Everything except one thought, one name. Lando.

Your drunken mind whispers his name. You want him right now, right next to you. The thought of his big hands in your hair, against your skin, between your legs, is nearly enough to be drunk on alone. And nothing is stopping you now, not even yourself. Intoxication has given you the freedom to do whatever you damn well please. 

Fumbling for your phone, you don’t even really think about what you’re going to say. Instead, you open up your contacts and press on his contact for the first time since you made it. He’d called your work phone months ago and left his number. You’d debated even saving his contact, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Though, you’d never messaged him, never gave him a call. Until now.

Clicking on the call button, you don’t flinch as it begins to ring. It rings…and rings…and rings. His voicemail message sounds like heaven to your wary ears. 

“Landooo, it's…uh…it's me. I’m in Paris on assignment. I bought you a postcard, don’t worry. Listen, I don’t really know why I’m calling. Actually, that’s not true. We both know exactly why I’m calling.” A hiccup breaks up your monologue before you continue. 

“Give me a shout whenever you have the chance, alright? Wanna hear your voice, babe. Good nigh–oh! Good job this season, by the way. Ok, good night, Lan.” You slur into the receiver. There are a million things you want to say, but you know you can’t. Not tonight.

Sleep takes you just as you end the message.

–

“Holy shit.” Fear seizes your chest as you pick up your burning hot phone. It’s nearly dead, but alive enough to show you just exactly what horrible decision you made last night. Lando Norris’ name in red is at the top of your recently called list. You called him last night, which is a horrible grievance in and of itself. What’s worse is that you have zero recollection of what you said. And you don’t trust drunk you to keep her cool. 

“Shit, fuck…shit, shit, shit!” You cry as you dig the heels of your hands into your aching eyes. Your mind races with the million and one things that you’ve wanted to say to Lando in the last months, ranking them from most to least pathetic. You can only hope that you were too drunk to make any sense and he’ll disregard the strange phone call from a number he doesn’t know. He must get dozens of phone calls a week, so there’s no chance that he’ll end up listening to your message. Right?

With a hangover made worse by your intense worrying, you crawl out of bed. You’re unsurprised to find you’re still dressed in your clothes from the day before. Not sparing a glance in the mirror, you strip bare and take a steaming hot shower. Unfortunately, the sting of the water does nothing to burn your spiraling thoughts away. 

As you get dressed, you glance at your phone laying face down on the bedside table. You’d plugged it in before getting in the shower, but hadn’t turned it all the way off. Something kept you from ignoring the damn thing. Curiosity killed the cat and it’s well on its way to killing you too. A twisted, borderline masochistic part of you hopes that he finds your message, no matter how humiliating it is. The truth is that you do miss him and maybe it takes a little bit of liquid courage (foolish courage) to do something about it. 

Questions go unanswered as you do everything to avoid opening your phone. Notifications are still silenced, so you would be none the wiser if it was ringing off the hook or completely bone dry. Instead, you fiddle with a coffee machine, do your makeup, iron out your schedule for the day, and send a few emails from your laptop (which you don’t have your number connected to for the sake of a nonexistent work-life balance).

By the time you’re done, a solid couple of hours have passed. It’s time that you check your phone. You’ve been avoiding the inevitable for too long. Plus, you’ve undoubtedly missed a message or ten about work-related happenings. 

Standing up, you push the desk chair you’ve been perched in back with your legs. A slow breath fills your lungs as you flex your hands by your sides and then shake them out. Nerves prickle down your neck, spilling into a shiver that runs the length of your spine. You’ve always been balls to the wall and nothing so trivial should force you to quiver in a corner with your proverbial tail between your legs. A string of affirmations flood your mind as you turn on your heel and trudge over to the bed. 

The affirmations break down into a waterfall of nervous swears as you take your phone in your hands, pulling it off the charger. It feels oddly delicate in your hands, as if you’re deactivating a bomb. Holding your breath, you slide the control center down and turn your notifications back on. When you return to your home screen, you’re bombarded with a constant stream of notifications from a variety of apps. Your mind goes blank as you skim over everything, looking for the green icon of a message or phone call. Everytime you see one, your heart jumps so far up your throat you think you might vomit. But everytime, it’s just a colleague or your manager or an acquaintance you’ve made while traveling.

Not a single message from Lando. Not a voicemail, not a missed call, not even a short text telling you (rightly) to fuck off. 

Your heart drops into your stomach and the nausea you’d warded off this morning comes back at full force. Managing expectations hadn’t worked. All your worrying had been for nothing. And you’d been a fool to hope. With everything you’ve done to him, effectively ghosting him until just now, months after you’d promised to see him, you’re in no position to be upset that he couldn’t be bothered to respond to you. Let alone the fact that he’s a world famous driver that probably doesn't blink twice at a number he doesn’t know before deleting and blocking it. 

You know you should be relieved that he didn’t listen to your message. Though, some undeniably masochistic part of you wished deeply that he had. Was it unfair of you to force him into the battle that you’ve been waging with yourself over the last year. One day you were willing to give everything up just to see him, then the next you assured yourself that you’d made the right decision by staying away. You were a loose cannon and you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you hurt one of the only people you cared so much about.

And maybe you did. Maybe he got your message and he chose to ignore it because he was in pain over you.

Or worse, he didn’t care to respond anymore.

Your mind reels and spins and a pain grows in your chest so severe you think you might have a heart attack. Tears prick at your eyes, blurring your vision of your stupid hotel room that holds everything too close. Memories suffocate you as you hold a phone filled with every notification you don’t want to see and lacking the one that you need.

After a few minutes of much needed cathartic sobbing, you stand up and begin cleaning up your room. Packing is what you’re best at. You’ve perfected it over the years. Everything you own could be stuffed into a few suitcases at a moment's notice. Even your apartment back in Monaco was sparsely decorated and home to only a few dishes and necessary furniture. Traveling from place to place for your job was no different. Rarely did you switch up what you packed into your favorite suitcase. Everything had its spot within. Everything knew where it was supposed to be and where you could find it. It was one of the only constant things in your life. No matter how much you needed constant change, you had this one consistency to keep you grounded. 

It’s worked for your entire life. But now, as you pack everything into its place, it seems slightly duller, more futile. 

Once everything is packed away and your room has been scoured corner to corner for anything you might have forgotten (which you know you hadn’t), you sit on your bed with your suitcase and stare absentmindedly at your laptop screen.

You wonder how many dozen times this exact scene has played out in your life. Something comes up that scares you or you can’t handle, you pack a bag, you sit at the edge of whatever you’d been sleeping on recently, and you wonder where exactly it is you plan on going next.

It’s always been exciting to you, adventurous and whimsical. But now it feels hollow and pathetic. You feel hollow and pathetic and all you want to do is go home.

But where’s home? You’ve made sure that you don’t have anywhere to call home because it’s always been exactly where your feet are. 

So, you decide to go to the next best place.

With a few swift clicks, you buy yourself a train ticket to Nice, Italy. You’re going back to Monaco.

Lando

With his headphones over his ears, he sits in the back of the jet while everyone else sleeps. For what seems like the thousandth time, he presses play on your message again. You’re drunk, he can tell. The voicemail is all slurred words and hiccups, but he can’t find it in himself to care. 

When it ends, he’s angry. Angry at you for calling out of blue because it wasn’t fair. Angry at himself for not picking up. Angry that he isn’t there to make sure you’re alright. Angry because he shouldn’t care this much.

But when he plays the message once more, his anger melts away. Relief floods in at hearing your voice for the first time in months.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t responded yet, or why he didn’t immediately return your call. Instead, he’s decided to play it safe and protect himself for a little bit longer. His plan is already in motion, it has been since before he got on the plane back to Monaco.

He’s going to find you if it’s the last thing he does. He’s going to get real, concrete, honest answers out of you. The game is ending on his terms. 

-

taglist: @sarx164 @f1fantasys

[allyheart707]

just read chapter 15 so here’s my thoughts

SO MANY EMOTIONS!!!! CASEY JR SKJBCDSJINCJISDNCDJSICNJICDSNCSDJN ;-; <3 <3 <3

I LOVE HOW WE SAW EVERYONES THOUGHTS ON WHATS GOING ON!!!! SO COOL SO HYPE!!!

I LOVED SEEING MIKEY SO EXCITED IT FELT SO REAL!! Also the fact Donnie calculated the time Leo would contact them is so funny to me he knows his twin well! XD

OVERALL AMAZING CHAPTER!!!! I can’t wait for the next ones! But take your time!! :D

Wait no longer, my dear friend! For I have delivered! >:D

also... I am sorry in advance for the pain this chapter may cause you.

[jaylaxies]

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).

WORD COUNT: 17.4k words

SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

Chapter 1. The café. 

The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes. 

It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case. 

You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing. 

“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face. 

Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh. 

You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face. 

“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly. 

“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way. 

“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself. 

“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added. 

“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief. 

“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug. 

You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all. 

Almost as if he was enjoying it. 

“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment. 

You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung. 

“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?” 

A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama. 

You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong. 

“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth. 

“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever. 

“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?” 

Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body. 

“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos. 

“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces. 

“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back. 

“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance. 

“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp. 

“Yeah?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Fine, then live with me for a week.”

“What?”

“Wait, what?”

“Huh?” 

You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses. 

“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked. 

“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly. 

“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background. 

“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze. 

“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner. 

“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more. 

“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away. 

“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained. 

Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—

“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap. 

You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever. 

“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore. 

“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes. 

“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second. 

Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose. 

“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face. 

“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled. 

“Yeah. Yes, they are.”

Chapter 2. The humble abode. 

Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back. 

It wasn’t easy. 

Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come. 

Heeseung was going to be your roommate. 

The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.

Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment. 

And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home. 

“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you. 

“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled. 

“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had. 

“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically. 

“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”

“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment. 

“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization. 

He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”

And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends. 

“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you. 

On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’

“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch. 

“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date. 

“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly. 

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled. 

Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart. 

As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight. 

“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him. 

“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process. 

“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. 

Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:

“What did I do?” 

Chapter 3. Not so humble. 

Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place. 

It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while. 

It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days. 

It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days. 

It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate. 

His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind. 

“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked. 

“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top. 

“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way. 

“Hah, as if.”

“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked. 

You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?” 

You gave him a look before retreating back to your room. 

“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?” 

“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door. 

“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”

“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”

“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever. 

“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath. 

“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.”

Chapter 4. Not your driver. 

“Toothbrush?”

“Check.”

“Laptop?”

“Check.”

“Charger?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing. 

“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.

“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed. 

The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”

You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”

“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled. 

You stared at him, expressionless. 

You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face. 

“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction. 

You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”

“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening. 

“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked. 

“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

“Yes!”

“No!”

You and Heeseung exchanged glances. 

“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment. 

You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way. 

It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness. 

Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus. 

“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung. 

“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror. 

“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both. 

However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?” 

“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice. 

“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”

“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything. 

You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you. 

“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky. 

“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”

“I can do it—”

“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up. 

His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again. 

“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was. 

“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.  

Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze. 

“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.  

He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”

You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving. 

You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus. 

“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out. 

You blamed his scent. 

It was all because of his scent. 

Chapter 5. Home Alone. 

It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked. 

Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy. 

Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one. 

That’s what you have to deal with now. 

With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”

Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot. 

Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled. 

You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned. 

“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away. 

The action which caused him to moan.

You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again. 

“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again. 

“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him. 

“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules. 

Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3

1. No touching each other. 2. No stealing food.  3. No loud music and video games.  4. No bringing guests without prior notice. 

“No guests?” 

“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked. 

He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.  

“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere. 

Way too sincere for your own liking. 

“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow. 

“Since you asked nicely.”

5. Chores will be divided equally.  6. One hour bonding time each day. 7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung. 

“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway. 

“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him. 

“We can just ignore each other.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”

“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.

Arguing with him was pointless. 

“Okay, fine.”

9. Maintain cleanliness.

That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away. 

You didn’t wanna hurt yourself. 

You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better. 

With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him. 

“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung. 

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed. 

“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”

“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.

“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face. 

You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid. 

“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face. 

With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines. 

You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it. 

“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice. 

“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm. 

“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.” 

“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.” 

You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating. 

Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.  

“Can’t move?” He teased. 

“I’m just tired, move.”

“Or, you’re just weak.”

“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.  

“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger. 

“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move. 

“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.  

Messing with you was one thing. 

Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing. 

But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war. 

“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him. 

He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back. 

“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you. 

You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that. 

“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered. 

“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.  

Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you. 

Chapter 6. A proof? 

In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things. 

First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless. 

Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook. 

And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind. 

Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face. 

It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him. 

But then, he did what he had to. 

He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself. 

Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it. 

“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment. 

There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone. 

It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound. 

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer. 

The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside. 

The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face. 

He was naked. 

He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background. 

“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were. 

And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so. 

You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down. 

That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it. 

He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it. 

He indeed had a big fucking cock. 

And he knew exactly how to use it. 

Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close? 

You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him. 

“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration. 

You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind. 

“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland. 

Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation. 

Overthinking was going to be your demise. 

If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts. 

You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated. 

Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind. 

“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”

You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means. 

However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late. 

It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today. 

“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it. 

“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second. 

“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again. 

At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment. 

You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place. 

And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No. 

You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised. 

Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay. 

Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer. 

A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more. 

Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text. 

“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening. 

“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes. 

At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right? 

“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon. 

Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated. 

Right? 

You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you. 

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes. 

“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room. 

“Away from you,” you mumbled. 

He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done. 

“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower. 

Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out. 

You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.” 

“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled. 

You had officially lost your mind. 

“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him. 

“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall. 

“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours. 

You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip. 

“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave. 

“Shut up,” you breathed out. 

“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage. 

“No,” you mumbled. 

He smirked, “no?” 

“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice. 

You hated him. 

And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“I—”

“You?” 

“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself. 

“Please what, my love?” 

You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud. 

“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip. 

“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face. 

His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva. 

You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.  

That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses. 

You had just kissed Heeseung. 

And you liked it. 

Well, fuck!

You had to run, you had to leave. 

That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away. 

It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips. 

“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned. 

Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth. 

“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after. 

“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties. 

The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet. 

All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again. 

Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles. 

Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved. 

Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand. 

“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny. 

Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop. 

You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.

Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw. 

Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation. 

You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window. 

That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized. 

You wanted Lee Heeseung. 

 Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages? 

It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this. 

You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now? 

He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you? 

You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back. 

Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone. 

He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again. 

Did he go too far this time? 

He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips. 

However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake. 

The thought of him hating you kept you awake. 

And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over. 

You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning. 

However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room. 

“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed. 

There was no answer, which only irritated you more. 

It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away. 

Were you making a big thing out of this? 

You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again. 

You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect. 

26 missed calls from Heeseung. 

Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it? 

You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside. 

Gyu 🐰: I’m here!! 

Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing? 

Fuck. 

You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door. 

“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring. 

The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other. 

“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully. 

Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you. 

Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say. 

That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face. 

“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed. 

“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face. 

“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?” 

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung. 

“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated. 

“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him. 

He only blinked, once and then twice. 

“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath. 

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”

“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.  

“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”

“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again. 

“Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something. 

“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed. 

That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice. 

But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out. 

You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics. 

It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining. 

However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people. 

He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset. 

Heeseung felt like his life was ruined. 

Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you. 

You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.

It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life. 

It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung. 

It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.

Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this. 

He had to do something. 

Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love. 

It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again. 

You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this. 

However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself. 

So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork. 

“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more. 

“Hee—” you gulped. 

“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”

You still couldn’t look in his eyes. 

He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it. 

You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did. 

Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time. 

You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again. 

“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions. 

“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held. 

“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him. 

It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse. 

“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”

“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”

“—don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”

Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now. 

You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”

“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours. 

“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”

“What?” You were taken aback. 

“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper. 

The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected. 

There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words. 

He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—

“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours. 

His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen. 

“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you. 

He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush. 

He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung. 

He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more. 

“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.” 

“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath. 

With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably. 

“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”

He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.” 

You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps. 

“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you. 

He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut. 

“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?” 

“What?” 

“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly. 

You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease. 

Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum. 

“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck. 

You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy. 

“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more. 

“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body. 

“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.

“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function. 

“Want you,” you finally spoke up. 

“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react. 

You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches. 

“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing. 

However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.” 

You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”

He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go. 

“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well. 

Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps. 

The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you. 

Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now. 

You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead. 

His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease. 

Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight. 

“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.

“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room. 

You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says. 

He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you. 

“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched. 

You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long. 

He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended. 

Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier. 

He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks. 

His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath. 

“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care. 

You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.  

“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most. 

“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.” 

“Please,” you begged feebly. 

“Please what, love?” 

You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.  

Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds. 

“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”

His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit. 

Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same. 

With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you. 

Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again. 

You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe. 

The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again. 

Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear. 

He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations. 

The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open. 

Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him. 

“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt. 

You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure. 

Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go. 

You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed. 

“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over. 

“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper. 

“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth. 

You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped. 

With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure. 

He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth. 

He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop. 

“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently. 

You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum. 

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened. 

“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke. 

“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”

“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm. 

“Shh, you can take it, right?”

His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. 

“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy. 

“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours. 

His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt. 

You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him. 

“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?” 

“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back. 

“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. 

He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself. 

Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud. 

Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression. 

“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled. 

“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”

“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say. 

Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.  

You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you. 

“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better. 

“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully. 

Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. 

“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him. 

“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up. 

You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over. 

You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster. 

The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out. 

And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name. 

You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out. 

“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered. 

His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop. 

With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder. 

“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt. 

Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead. 

A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you. 

He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you. 

You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so. 

It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed. 

You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.

That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation. 

“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining. 

“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”

“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice. 

You were never the one to confront. 

“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way. 

“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation. 

“Me?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember?”

“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong. 

You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”

Heeseung looked lost as ever.  

“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong. 

“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled. 

What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back? 

“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”

Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips. 

“You know what you said?”

“I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”

There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point. 

Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her. 

In front of everyone at that. 

“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him. 

“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.”

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement. 

“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”

“Like pranking and bothering me?”

“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed. 

“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?

A misunderstanding. 

You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding. 

“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression. 

“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended. 

“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times. 

“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again. 

“Yeah, princess?” He whispered. 

“So, about what happened—”

“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly. 

If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung. 

“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”

Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name. 

“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out. 

“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”

“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”

He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile. 

“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way. 

“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his. 

“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. 

At that moment, you truly felt happy. 

And that’s all that mattered. 

Chapter 10: I saw it coming. 

It’s baffling. 

Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more. 

Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there. 

It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses. 

You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before. 

He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile. 

Especially when he was the one who made you smile. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled. 

“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly. 

However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today. 

Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off. 

Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal. 

Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[capricorn-0mnikorn]

I have ~Thoughts~ on the Harry Potter Phenomenon that was

(Courtesy of memories prompted by this Tumblr Poll)

Back when I was a senior in college (back in the mid-to-late 1980s), I actually wrote a fantasy novel for kids aged ~8 - ~11 (in a self-designed course for a single credit, under the guidance of my Literature advisor), inspired by a series of dreams and recurring characters that showed up in them.

My advisor encouraged me to try and get it published. And so, I arranged with teachers from my old school to have a class of 30 or so 10 year-olds beta read it, and give me feedback for revisions. The kids also encouraged me to try and publish it.

So I did.

Now, back then, there was no "Self Publishing." The closest thing was "Vanity Publishing," where you would pay 100% of the publishing cost of your book, which would be printed in hard copy, for the benefit of having 500 -1,000 books shipped to your personal address, which you were then responsible for storing and selling out of the trunk of your car in a parking lot, somewhere. And if word got out that you were trying to claim credit for being a "published author" because of a Vanity Press book, actual publishers wouldn't touch you with a 40-foot pole.

If you wanted to get published, you had to buy that year's copy of Writer's Market: a listing of magazine and book publishers, and agents, with a brief description of what material they published, and what they wouldn't touch.

Guess what genre no agent or publisher was interested in handling?

That's right, Gentle Readers: Fantasy for children aged 8 - 11. I would have happily sent out a dozen queries for each story I wrote, if there were publishers and agents willing to look at them. But for three to four years of trying, in directories of two-columns of tiny print, and several [hundred]* pages long, I'd be lucky to find two or three outlets even willing to look at fantasy for kids.

The general consensus, across the publishing business, was that fantasy was a dead and obsolete genre. If it was for kids old enough to read chapter books and novels, it must also be firmly grounded in realism and actual history, because everyone knows the only people buying books for kids that age were teachers, who wanted stories with practical applications in the classroom.

***

After 3 - 4 years of trying, while I was in grad school, I finally got a rejection from the one agent who agreed to read my novel. A few days later, I received news that my mother had died from the breast cancer she'd been fighting, and my heart just went out of the project altogether.

A few years later, the first Harry Potter book was published. And it became a worldwide phenomenon. And it was the kids, themselves, who were driving the sales.

See, I think the real reason the books were such a success, even though they were never really very well written, was because they were in a genre the audience was hungry for -- a genre they'd been denied access to for all of their young lives.

Someone who is starving will think even moldy bread is delicious.

*Gosh, what a word to leave out via typo; the Writers Market rivaled the Manhattan Yellow Pages in length.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (45/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started - part two.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, slight jealousy

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

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A/N: happy two-chapter-week! I miss F1 already and I'm in denial that we have to wait so long. feedback is appreciated!

You have never seen so many buttons in your life. 

Levers, switches, buttons and knobs, all of which certainly have different meanings, but as you stand next to Martin on the stage, you can't imagine what each one of them is for. 

The DJ taps you on the shoulder and takes one earcup of his headphones off his ears before pointing to the DJ booth. “When I give you the sign, press this one, okay?”

You pull the headphones down before looking a little confused from him to the button in question. ”This one?” 

Without hesitation, Martin grabs your hand and guides it to the button you are about to press. Unlike Charles's skin on yours, his feels somehow wrong. You suppress the urge to pull your hand away. 

You gently place your finger on the button and wait for his signal. Through the DJ booth, you feel the vibration of the music in your body, the bass in your bones, and as you look out over the crowd, you see your friends in front of you on the dance floor. Kika smiles at you and holds out her cocktail glass as if to toast with you. 

When you look at Charles, you see that his eyes are fixed on Martin. Without blinking, he looks at him before noticing your gaze and smiling at you briefly and coldly before leaving the group and disappearing towards the bar. Pierre looks up at you briefly before following his buddy. 

“Are you ready?” Martin smiles at you, and when you put your headphones back on, you give him a thumbs up. He counts down the seconds with his fingers before pointing at you, and when you press the button in front of you, the bass drops and the crowd cheers. Hidden cannons shoot confetti into the air, silver and black paper shreds fly through the room and stick to the sweaty bodies of the party guests, while Martin – with your help – gets the party pumped up. 

With pure talent and impressive precision, Martin pushes levers up and down, turns volume controls and boosts the bass so that you can literally feel the music vibrating in your bones. 

And it feels fantastic.

With your headphones on and your cocktail glass in hand, you dance next to him on the podium, enjoying the music and the atmosphere, but when you open your eyes, you can't help but scan the room for Charles. 

There are a lot of people at the bar and you think you see Pierre's head somewhere in between, but when you think you feel Charles's gaze on you and meet his eyes, the feeling disappears again. You stretch and yank, but the only thing you can see are dancing and laughing people having the time of their lives. 

Someone nudges you from the side and when you turn around, Kika and Elena are standing next to you. The Portuguese woman grabs your headphones before putting them on and then sticks her thumb up – even though she's definitely too drunk to notice a difference. 

You lean a little towards Elena. “How much has she had to drink?” you grin, nodding at your best friend, who is now staring at the DJ booth with as much concentration as possible, repeatedly reaching out to press one of the buttons, but Martin keeps slapping her hand lightly to stop her from ruining his gig. 

“Since you came up here – two cocktails and a shot, I think,” Elena replies, looking past you towards Kika. ”I told Pierre to get her a glass of water from the bar. But I don't know if he'll actually do it.”

You purse your lips. “I think Lando would knock the glass of water out of his hand.” Confused, you look around. “Where is he, anyway?”

Elena shrugs. “He wanted to make a quick phone call or something. He just got a call and immediately disappeared outside. He even left his glass behind,” she explains and puts Lando's drink down next to Martin's desk before taking a pull on her own straw, earning a dirty look from the DJ. Apparently, he's afraid that Lando's glass will tip over and break his expensive equipment. “Apparently, it was very important. Anyway, he jumped up as if he'd been stung by a tarantula.”

You try to hide your curiosity, but the alcohol in your blood thwarts your plans. “Do you know who called?” you ask her loudly enough for her but not for anyone else to hear. 

“I just glanced at the screen when it was on the table and then it lit up,” she replies, taking another sip of her drink. ”I think it was one of his Formula 1 buddies. But I couldn't see it clearly.”

You are about to say something when Kika throws her arms around your neck and almost spills her cocktail on your beautiful dress. One of her arms is around your shoulders and pulls you so close to her that you can feel her warm breath on your skin. You gently kiss her on the temple. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

The young woman nods and grins at you. “Are you having fun?” she asks, leaning against you so that you have to support her. 

“I am,” you reply and reach for her glass to take it from her. You take a sip of her cocktail. ‘Do you want some water?’ you ask her, but Kika shakes her head vehemently. You have to laugh. ”Water isn't poisonous. And I don't think a glass would hurt you.”

“Boooooooo,” Kika utters, trying to take her glass back, but you successfully keep it out of her reach. ”All right. One glass of water. But only because otherwise I'll get in trouble with Pierre tomorrow when I complain about a heavy hangover.”

You nod and lovingly hand her over to Elena, who smiles at you. “I'll take care of her. She won't destroy Martin's setup.‘ She glances at the DJ before turning back to you. "I think he'd kill us all if we poured Piña Colada over his mixer.”

You glance past her. Martin seems completely absorbed and focused on his music. When he glances in your direction, he smiles at you and points to his desk, as if to ask you to join him again. But you shake your head slightly and raise your hand to your mouth, thumb and pinkie extended. Then you leave the podium. 

Although the club is not too big and the distance from your friends to the bar is not too far, you feel like the few steps are taking forever. With your shoulders hunched, you push through the crowd, squeezing between sweaty, dancing people, until the crowd thins out and you can take a deep breath. You quickly run your fingers through your hair, which is stuck to the back of your neck, and then approach the bar. 

“Four glasses of water, please,” you order from the attractive bartender, drumming your fingers on the marble slab in front of you until someone leans against your left side.

“I hope one of the glasses is for Kika,” Pierre smiles at you and takes two of the glasses from the bartender. ”Sometimes she forgets that she's human and will have a bad hangover if she doesn't drink water from time to time.”

You nod gratefully at the woman behind the bar and reach for the water too. “Then it's a good thing that two of the glasses are for your girlfriend then,” you reply. You look around. “Where is Charles? I thought you went to the bar together.”

The Frenchman nods. “We did. After we both had two shots, he wanted to go out for a bit of fresh air. Take a deep breath and all that,” he explains. As you are about to take a step forward, he raises his arm to gently hold you back. 

You look at him, confused. “Are you okay?”

“He likes you,” Pierre says. When you look at him confused, he smiles at you and gently puts an arm around your shoulders, careful not to spill the water on your dress. "I've never seen Charles so happy. And never so... open?" He leans his head against yours briefly.

A little unsure, you smile at him. “What exactly do you mean?”

Pierre purses his lips. 'With Annika, he was so stiff and somehow the relationship never seemed real, although I think he really liked her. And from the outside, everything always seemed perfect. They always had perfect photos for Instagram, totally staged, and if you knew Charles personally, you knew that something was wrong. And in the end, it was.”

While the two of you make your way back through the crowd to your friends, you can't help but continue to investigate. “How – well – did you like her? Annika, I mean?”

Pierre pushes you past two girls who are jumping up and down wildly. ”I guess you mean before she cheated on Charles?”

“Um – yes.”

Kika's boyfriend shakes his head. “I just had a bad feeling about her. Until they broke up, nothing ever happened that would have justified that lousy feeling. She was always friendly and easy to talk to. But – well. It seems my feeling wasn't wrong.”

You smile at him. “Apparently you have a good sense of people. Charles is lucky to have someone like you by his side.”

“That's for sure,“ he grins. ”But I think he still likes you best by his side. Anyway, you can see how happy he is since you've been with him. And he's genuinely happy. Not that fake, put-on happiness.” He lets you go ahead as you both climb the stairs to the platform. 

Once at the top, you wait for him. ”Do you think so?”

“Anyone who sees it differently is either stupid or blind. The whole time we were getting the pizza and he was looking for a dress for you, he couldn't stop talking about you. If I didn't like you both so much, I would have told him to shut up,” Pierre laughs. 

“Who should shut up?” Kika and Elena join you. The Portuguese woman leans with her whole body against her boyfriend, who holds the water glass to her lips so that she can drink from it. She empties it within seconds.

“Nobody should shut up,” you reply and take a sip of water as well, passing one to Elena, who accepts it with a smile. 

Pierre rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. "I just told her that Charles can't stop talking about her and that it would be annoying if the two weren't our friends,’ he explains, kissing his girlfriend on the temple. 

“That's not annoying,” Kika grins before looking at you. However, her words are directed at Pierre. ‘If only they would talk to each other as much as they talk to us about each other, then we wouldn't be the only couple in this group of friends.”

With wide-open eyes, you stare at her in outrage. ’Kika!”

“I'm sorry!” she apologizes, but she definitely doesn't mean it. She breaks away from the Frenchman and gives you a big hug. ‘I just want what's best for you. And I'm sure that Charles is what's best for you. And if you need time to find each other, then that's that,’ she smiles at you and kisses you on the cheek. “And when the time comes, I'll pop the champagne corks and be the flower girl at your wedding.”

You laugh and throw your head back. Even if you tried, you could never stay mad at Kika for long. “Flower girl? I thought you'd be my maid of honor, no?”

She grins at you like a little kid who has just been given permission to raid a candy store. “That's even better!” She throws herself completely into your arms, almost making you drop your water glass. “I'll be the best maid of honor ever! This is going to be so cool!”

“Cherié, I think you're forgetting that she's not even engaged yet, let alone in a committed relationship,” Pierre reminds the pretty Portuguese woman. "It's going to be a while before she actually gets married.”

She turns her head to her boyfriend with a nasty look. ’And even if it takes a thousand years – I'll. be. the. maid. of. honor.”

You look at her pursing your lips. “I hope it doesn't actually take a thousand years for me to get married.”

“Should I tell Charles to hurry up with the proposal?” Pierre grins, and you give him the middle finger, grinning. 

“What should I hurry with?” As you turn around, Charles is standing in front of you. In his hands, he is holding a tray with a few shot glasses filled with red or green liquid. All heads turn to him, but no one says anything. The Monegasque raises his eyebrows. "What should I hurry with?", he repeats, visibly confused. 

“With the drinks!” Elena breaks the silence of the group and walks smiling to him to free him from the tray. Without spilling a single glass, she takes it out of his hand and walks around it so that everyone can take one. When she stops in front of Kika and you, she grins and pushes her water glass into your best friend's hand. ”This drink is especially for you.”

Kika sniffs at the glass with shining eyes. “What is it?”

“Skinny Bitch. Vodka with soda,” explains Elena, holding out the tray so you can take a shot glass of it. She leans forward a little towards you and out of the corner of your eye you can see Kika looking suspiciously at the drink in her hand. “Just without the vodka.”

Martin, who was just standing at the DJ booth, rejoins you and stands next to you, one arm around your shoulders, and grabs one of the small glasses as well. You don't need to look in Charles' direction to know that his gaze darkens a shade. “Have any of you seen Lando? He was about to go to the DJ booth too.”

“I'm here!” The young guy from Britain is jogging up the steps to the podium and stops next to Charles. His cheeks are red and the shirt, which was just tucked into his trousers, is now hanging off his shoulders with another two buttons undone. ‘Have I missed something?’ He looks briefly from Charles to you and Martin before running his hand through his curly hair. “All right, party poopers.” He also takes a glass from Elena's tray. ”Let's get this party started!”

After the group has downed their shots – and Kika, her not-so-skinny-bitch – Martin pulls you back to the DJ booth with Lando in tow. You glance over your shoulder and see your roommate clenching his jaw as Pierre grabs him by the shoulder and starts a conversation with him. 

“Are you okay?” Lando asks you as you take your seats next to Martin. He grabs the abandoned headphones and hands one to you. 

You put it on your head. “Um – yes, I think so.” You suppress the urge to turn back to the rest of your group of friends. “Where were you?” you counter with a question of your own to change the subject. 

Your friend can't suppress the smile that creeps across his face. “I was just on the phone,” he replies, avoiding eye contact with you, but the tips of his ears turn red – and it's definitely not because of the alcohol or the warmth in the club. 

You bite your lip. “On the phone? With whom?”

“Not important.” He takes a deep breath before looking at you. "And what about you? Have you danced with Charles yet?" You open your mouth to answer, but no sound comes out. The Brit has to laugh. “The man buys you a beautiful dress in which you look incredibly stunning, and he puts on a complementary shirt so that you both show up here in matching outfits – yes, I noticed – and then you don't dance with each other? Do I have to force you to do that or –”

“I can't dance with him if I'm constantly being pulled away by my friends to either get drinks at the bar or to press buttons that I don't even know what they do.” You raise an eyebrow and nod in the direction of Martin, who is absorbed in the music again. 

“Shall I show you which button does what?“ your buddy asks you, but you shake your head. 

“I'm fine. I think I'm more of a listener than a composer,” you smile, leaning against Lando as he puts his arm around your shoulder. 

“You seem to be pushing Charles' buttons, that's for sure. He keeps staring at you like he wants to either eat you up right away or take you home.” His eyes flicker past your face towards Charles, but somehow you don't dare to follow his gaze. 

“Lando...”

“You know I'm right. Even if you're afraid of it,” he smiles at you and nudges you in the side. ‘Why are you hesitating? It's obvious that you both want each other.”

You shrug your shoulders and look at your shoes. ’He's my best friend. And I don't want to lose him.”

“Do you really think you would lose him if you told him how you feel?”

“To be honest – I don't want to risk it,” you admit. ”He's the most important person in my life. And if friendship – or whatever it is between us – is all I get from him, then that's it. I've already come to terms with that.”

He purses his lips. “That's the saddest thing I've ever heard.” He leans his head against yours, but pulls it away immediately when Charles joins you. “Speak of the devil,” he says just for you to hear, and steps closer to Martin to give you some privacy. 

Charles stands next to you and puts his arm around your waist. His cheeks are red and warm and a few brown strands of hair are stuck to his forehead. Beautiful. “Hi.”

You smile at him. ”Hi back.”

“Are you okay? I feel like I've barely seen you since we entered the club.” He gently pulls you closer so you can rest your head on his shoulder. ”I missed you.”

His words make your heart beat faster. “I'm sorry about that,” you reply. “I was just dragged along and had to play DJ even though I have no idea how to.”

Your roommate smiles at you. “We haven't even danced together.” His other hand also rests on your hip, positioning himself behind you. His chin rests on your shoulder and you feel his breath on your skin. “You're only here with Martin all the time.”

You giggle slightly as his beard brushes your neck. ”Are you jealous?” 

He presses a fleeting kiss on the hollow between your neck and shoulder. “Me, jealous? Never.”

Just as you want to remind him that he was recently jealous of the friendship between you and Lando and even admitted it under purple skies, Lando waves you both over to him. Hesitantly, you separate from each other and join them, but like magnets you find each other again; Charles' chest against your back and his hand on your hip. 

“Do you have a song request?” Lando asks, pointing to the mixing desk. ‘Martin's letting me use it and I thought I might be able to do you both a favor,’ he grins, and when his eyes flicker over to you, you would like to pour Kika's not-so-skinny-bitch into his face. 

You're about to shake your head when Charles breaks away from you to express his wish to Lando. His hand remains on your hip as Martin makes room for Lando and moves to your other side. 

He smiles at you and then points from you to Charles. “You two seem to get along very well.” You nod in agreement. “But you're not together.”

You shake your head. “Like Charles already said – we are best friends,” you repeat the words of the Monegasque, who suddenly turns his head jerkily in your direction. 

The warm smile has suddenly vanished from his face and he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, which you can't place. His hand on your hip tightens a little. 

“Well, I wanted to ask you if you...“ the DJ begins his sentence, but before he can finish it, Charles pulls you back to him. 

“I think we're going home now,” your roommate announces and says goodbye to his friends without further ado. However, he doesn't give a reasonable reason. 

Lando looks at you both with confusion, but his expression quickly changes to a grin when he realizes why Charles wants to go home. “Have a safe trip home.” He puts on his headphones and changes the song to Charles' request. 

Your roommate pulls you towards the exit so quickly that you just barely have time to wish Kika, Pierre and Elena a pleasant evening – thanks to the water, Kika is on her way to a headache-free morning – before Charles grabs you and pushes you forward like a man possessed. 

“Charles, what?”

“Best friend,” he repeats your words with a murmur. ”I'll show you what a best friend I can be.”

It's only when you reach the exit that you notice that Talking Body by Tove Lo is playing.

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.1

Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another. Author's Note: This is the second story of my series, "It All Started..." As I was writing, the story evolved into something much bigger than I initially imagined, so I decided to divide it into three parts to give it the attention and depth it deserves. To everyone who has supported my series so far, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your encouragement and feedback have been a driving force behind my writing, and I can’t wait to hear your thoughts on this part of the story. Stay tuned, because there’s so much more to come, and I promise the journey will only get more exciting from here. Thank you for being part of this adventure with me—I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed creating it! Part one _ Part two _ Part three

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

Mingyu wasn’t sure what prompted him to accept the role this time. At first, it seemed like any other offer—another chance to showcase a different side of himself. But something about the script resonated with him on a deeper level. The character's struggle to balance vulnerability and strength mirrored his own challenges in navigating fame. He felt an unspoken connection to the story, as if it was calling him to confront parts of himself, he had kept hidden. Perhaps that’s why, despite his initial doubts, he agreed to take the leap. Maybe it was the persistent urging of his members, maybe it was his own curiosity, or maybe, just maybe, it was the script that had managed to tug at something deep within him. Either way, he found himself on the set of "Between Us," his first lead role in a drama, both nervous and excited.

The buzz around the project had been immediate, not just because of Mingyu but because of his co-star. Y/N, a senior idol, had been cast as the female lead. She was a name that carried weight in the industry—the leader of her group, a revered idol with an aura of mystery. Known for her icy demeanor and guarded nature, she seemed to embody mystery and restraint, creating an intriguing contrast to Mingyu’s radiant, extroverted charm. While her reserved nature drew admiration, it also set the stage for a fascinating interplay with Mingyu’s infectious energy, sparking curiosity about how their opposite temperaments might evolve together. It was a pairing that intrigued fans and critics alike.

When they met for the first table read, Mingyu was struck by how composed she was. She greeted him with a polite nod, her expression unreadable. Mingyu, ever the extrovert, tried to break the ice with a joke.

“Looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” he said, his signature grin in place. “I hope you’re ready for my bad jokes.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I’ll brace myself,” she replied coolly before turning her attention to the script.

From that moment on, their interactions were polite but distant. On set, Mingyu would try to engage her in conversation, but Y/N kept her responses short. It wasn’t that she was rude; she just seemed... guarded. Mingyu couldn’t help but be intrigued. What was she hiding behind that composed facade?

As the weeks went by, they began filming scenes that required emotional depth and vulnerability. The plot of "Between Us" revolved around two people who initially clashed but slowly fell in love as they unraveled each other’s secrets. The parallels between the characters and their real-life dynamics didn’t escape Mingyu.

One evening, after a particularly intense scene, Mingyu found Y/N sitting alone by the set, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the scene.

“Hey,” Mingyu said, approaching cautiously. “You okay?”

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening slightly. “I’m fine. Just... thinking.”

Mingyu sat down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them. “You were amazing in that scene,” he said sincerely. “I felt like I was watching your character come to life.”

She looked at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. “Thank you. You did well too.”

It was the first time she’d offered him a genuine compliment, and Mingyu felt a small thrill of accomplishment. They sat in silence for a while, watching the sky change colors.

“Do you ever get tired?” Y/N asked suddenly. “Of being... this?”

Mingyu frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Of always being expected to be perfect. To smile, to perform, to never let your guard down,” she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu thought for a moment before replying. “Sometimes. But I think it’s okay to not be perfect. People connect with us because of our flaws, not despite them.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression unreadable once more. But something shifted that day. She began to open up, little by little. Mingyu learned that behind her icy exterior was someone who cared deeply about her members, someone who carried the weight of leadership with grace but also with a heavy heart.

The rest of the cast and crew began to notice the change in their dynamic. During breaks, they often saw Mingyu and Y/N sharing quiet conversations or laughing at inside jokes. One day, a crew member walked in on Mingyu patiently teaching Y/N a card game to pass the time, his enthusiasm contagious as Y/N, known for her reserved nature, playfully accused him of cheating.

“Cheating? Me?” Mingyu feigned shock, placing a hand on his chest. “I’m wounded, Y/N. Truly.”

“Wounded or not, you’re still losing,” Y/N shot back with a rare grin.

Another time, during a particularly chilly outdoor shoot, a makeup artist caught Mingyu draping his jacket over Y/N’s shoulders without a word, brushing off her protests with a casual, “You’ll catch a cold.”

The director, amused by their growing rapport, once joked, “If you two don’t win Best Couple at the year-end awards, I’ll be writing to the network myself.”

Even the extras started to notice their synergy, with one commenting during lunch, “Their chemistry isn’t just acting—it’s real.” Mingyu’s consistent warmth and Y/N’s subtle but significant thawing became a favorite topic of conversation among the crew, adding a special layer of excitement to the production. The once distant co-stars were now sharing inside jokes, supporting each other through difficult scenes, and even eating meals together during breaks. Mingyu’s patience and warmth had managed to crack Y/N’s walls, and she, in turn, became a grounding presence for him.

The turning point came during a particularly grueling shoot. It was a night scene set in the rain, with both leads expected to deliver emotionally charged performances. As Y/N sprinted down the wet pavement for a pivotal chase sequence, her ankle twisted, sending her collapsing onto the ground mid-scene. The crew froze, and for a moment, the only sound was the rain hammering down. Mingyu, standing nearby, dropped his prop and sprinted to her side.

“Cut!” the director shouted, but Mingyu was already kneeling beside Y/N, his voice tinged with panic. “Are you okay? Does it hurt a lot?”

Y/N tried to sit up, brushing off the mud on her hands. “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth, though the pain was evident in her eyes.

“No, you’re not,” Mingyu said firmly, his worry overriding his usual easygoing demeanor. He gestured for the on-set medic, his brows furrowed in concern. “You need to rest. This isn’t something to push through.”

Despite her protests, Mingyu carefully helped her to a nearby chair, his hand steady on her arm. His genuine concern was clear, and the crew exchanged knowing glances, murmuring about how protective he had become of her. In that moment, something shifted—not just between their characters, but in their real relationship as well.

The injury had forced Y/N to take it slow, and Mingyu took it upon himself to help her. He’d show up to set early to make sure the path was clear for her crutches, brought her snacks during breaks, and even offered to rehearse lines with her to save her unnecessary movement.

“You’re going to spoil me,” Y/N said one day, watching as Mingyu carefully adjusted her chair.

“Maybe,” Mingyu replied with a grin. “But I don’t mind.”

As “Between us” progressed, the romantic tension between Mingyu and Y/N on-screen began to mirror their growing connection off-screen. Their characters, who started out as strangers, gradually developed a deep emotional bond, with Mingyu’s warmth gradually melting Y/N’s cool exterior.

One evening, during a late-night shoot, the scene called for a quiet, intimate moment at the café. Mingyu’s character, Jae-min, had just confessed his feelings to Y/N’s character, Seo-yeon. The air was thick with tension as their eyes met, both characters hesitant yet longing.

“Are you sure you want this?” Jae-min asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as he reached out to gently touch Seo-yeon’s hand.

Y/N, as Seo-yeon, looked at him, her expression unreadable, before slowly nodding. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to try.”

In the next moment, Jae-min leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, a gentle but tender kiss filled with the promise of something new. The director yelled “Cut!” immediately after the kiss, but both actors were left momentarily frozen, caught in the vulnerability of the moment.

Mingyu quickly stepped back, awkwardly scratching his head. “Uh, sorry, was that too much?”

Y/N, for the first time in a while, let out a soft laugh, something that startled Mingyu. “No, it was good,” she said quietly, her cheeks flushed. “You just… surprised me, I guess.”

That night, as they wrapped up filming, Mingyu couldn’t stop thinking about how natural the kiss had felt—how it wasn’t just an act but something real that he had experienced with her. Y/N, despite her usually cool demeanor, had shown a glimmer of warmth, and it left Mingyu wondering if the lines between their characters were blurring.

The next scene that stood out was a pivotal moment in the drama, where Jae-min (Mingyu’s character) confesses his love for Seo-yeon (Y/N’s character) during a stormy night. They were supposed to be alone in the café, the rain tapping against the window as Jae-min, drenched from the downpour, walked in to find Seo-yeon sitting by the window, gazing out at the rain.

“Seo-yeon,” Jae-min said, his voice shaking with emotion. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You’re the only one who sees me for who I really am.”

Seo-yeon turned to him, her eyes softening but still guarded. “But you know I’m not the person you think I am, right?”

The tension in the room was palpable as Jae-min walked toward her, his every step determined. “I don’t care,” he whispered, his face inches from hers. “I love you.”

The kiss that followed was more passionate, a moment of release for both characters. The scene was so intense that even the crew stayed silent as they filmed. When the director yelled “Cut,” both Mingyu and Y/N stood frozen in their positions, the chemistry between them undeniable.

During a break, Y/N walked off to the side, away from the set, clearly trying to collect herself after the emotional intensity of the kiss. Mingyu, sensing her discomfort, followed her quietly.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked softly, standing a few feet away.

Y/N paused, looking at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, just… it’s a lot sometimes, you know?” She shrugged. “This role is… difficult for me.”

Mingyu gave her a gentle smile. “You’re doing amazing. I can tell. I know acting can be hard, but you make it look effortless.”

Y/N looked at him, her walls slowly starting to crack. “Thanks, Mingyu,” she said quietly, her tone sincere.

As she turned back to the set, Mingyu watched her, his heart unexpectedly racing. They might have started out as strangers, but something was beginning to stir between them, something neither of them had anticipated.

One of the final scenes in the drama was another intimate moment between Jae-min and Seo-yeon. The two characters had gone through their fair share of struggles, and in this scene, they finally gave in to their feelings for one another. The script called for a tender, lingering kiss under the moonlight, where Jae-min pulls Seo-yeon into his arms as they both acknowledge their deep connection.

As the cameras rolled, the chemistry between Mingyu and Y/N was undeniable. The kiss was gentle at first, with both characters hesitant, but as the scene progressed, their passion deepened. Their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss that was both vulnerable and full of longing, capturing the emotional weight of everything their characters had been through.

When the director finally called “Cut,” the entire set seemed to hold its breath. Y/N, who had usually kept a distance from Mingyu, seemed to soften in his arms, the connection between them palpable even off-camera.

During the next break, Mingyu found himself sitting next to Y/N, who had become noticeably more relaxed around him since their first interactions. They were both exhausted from the intense filming, but the mood between them was no longer cold.

“I didn’t know acting could be like this,” Mingyu admitted, his voice low. “It’s… more than just saying lines. It feels real.”

Y/N looked at him thoughtfully. “Yeah, it’s like… you let yourself be vulnerable for a moment.” She paused, then added, “You’re a good actor, Mingyu.”

Her words caught him off guard. He smiled, not able to hide his feelings anymore. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

There was a comfortable silence between them, and for the first time, Mingyu felt a genuine sense of connection to Y/N—not just as his co-star, but as someone who understood the depth of their roles and the emotions they had shared through their characters.

One memorable day, they filmed a scene where their characters shared their first kiss under a canopy of stars. The setup was breathtaking—fairy lights hanging from the trees, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and the soft strumming of a guitar playing in the background.

Between takes, Mingyu leaned over with a grin. “They really went all out for this, huh?”

Y/N glanced around, her lips twitching into a rare smile. “It’s beautiful. Almost makes you forget we’ve been here for hours.”

The scene required them to hold hands, exchange lingering gazes, and lean into a kiss that felt as natural as breathing. When the director finally called, “Cut!” he looked up from the monitor and clapped. “That was perfect! The chemistry was off the charts.”

Another day, they filmed a playful sequence where their characters spent an afternoon at a seaside carnival. From riding the Ferris wheel to playing ring toss, the scenes were filled with laughter and lighthearted moments. While filming a shot where Mingyu’s character won a giant stuffed bear for Y/N’s character, he jokingly handed it to her and said, “This is the closest you’ll get to me spoiling you in real life.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I’ll cherish it forever,” she quipped, hugging the bear dramatically.

The most challenging yet rewarding scene to film came toward the end of the drama, where their characters finally confessed their feelings after a heated argument. The emotions ran high, and even the crew found themselves holding their breath as Mingyu and Y/N brought the raw vulnerability of their characters to life. By the time the director called cut, there was a moment of stunned silence before the set erupted into applause.

“You really outdid yourselves,” the director said, visibly moved. “This is the kind of performance that stays with people.”

Through these scenes, their bond grew stronger. Whether it was the stolen glances that felt too real or the way they naturally gravitated toward each other during breaks, it was clear to everyone that something special was blooming between them.

[chrollogy]

NO NUT NOVEMBER ‘24 | 𝓟𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓤𝓹!

sebastian michaelis, neuvillette, lucifer, sylus x f!reader (all separate)

DETAILS: This series follows four men, four scenarios centered around No Nut November, and four ways to let carnal desire take over—pick your poison. Welcome to the world of Pent Up! where we’re all about chasing pleasure.

GENRE: Explicit Smut, Mature Themes

DURATION: 4 episodes

CONTENT ADVISORY: nsfw, mdni, unprotected sex, porn without plot, edging (sebastian michaelis), aphrodisiacs (neuvillette), demon fucking (lucifer), bondage (sylus). each chapter will be tagged specifically.

EPISODES:

Episode 1 — One Hell Of A Plan

No Nut November only has one rule—to abstain oneself from an orgasm or ‘nutting’ during the whole month of November—that means no rule is broken if Sebastian fucks you without cumming, right?

Featuring Sebastian Michaelis. Release date: November 4th 2024.

Episode 2 — Chocolate Gone Wrong

Neuvillette finds himself itching to break the sacred rule of No Nut November after naïvely indulging in aphrodisiac-laced chocolates gifted by Sigewinne—a popular craze among young Fontanian adults.

Featuring Neuvillette. Release date: November 11th 2024.

Episode 3 — The Clock Strikes Midnight

A month of sexual abstinence, nothing Lucifer cannot do but once the grandfather clock sings on midnight—bidding goodbye to the eleventh month—he starts his carnal hunt.

Featuring Lucifer. Release date: November 18th 2024.

Episode 4 — Temptress

Sylus prides himself in his unwavering resolve but he soon starts doubting that fact after your brazen attempts of getting him to lose No Nut November—by practically offering yourself on a silver platter before the Onychinus leader. Who is he to deny himself of a feast? You want to be devoured? He’ll give that to you.

Featuring Sylus. Release date: November 25th 2024.

SUBSCRIBE to be notified ! (taglist)

DIRECTOR’S NOTE: divider: cafekitsune. eeep my very first NNN event hehe enjoy. thoughts and feedbacks are much appreciated!

—

© chrollogy 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my video

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Showering with Bang Chan ‗ ❍

Pairing : Bang Chan x f reader

Summary : chapter one of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, nudity and suggestive themes involved but no smut fluff, literally ONE angst word, domestic!, channie best boyfriend idc

Word count : 500

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Imagine showering with Chan. It could either go very chill or very *exciting*. Usually starts with the first and follows with the second BUT- just in general it would be such an intimate time. The possibilities are endless to be honest.

You came to a certain point in your relationship in which you were a hundred percent comfortable with each other. And most importantly loved doing things for each other!

"Can you massage in the conditioner for me?" "Of course baby"

You'd both help the other, moving your hands up and down each other's bodies, often giving small massages and relaxing the tense muscles. Chan especially just melts whenever you touch him, two of his favorite spots bing his neck and shoulders.

"Oh my Gosh that hurts so good" he whines as your fingers work his aching neck, basically turned marble from being bent over a laptop all day.

"It hurts or it's nice, which one is it?" you tease him, chuckling. He groans slightly, almost too gone to even answer.

"Shush. Mmh, both. I don't know, just keep going" his head first leaning forward then back, almost touching your shoulder.

You'd relax together, getting all soapy and wet under the hot water. Sometimes just lazily hugging and making out, losing track of time.

"We should get out, it's getting so hot I think I may pass out" you murmur against his swollen lips. He starts kissing your neck instead, humming.

"You flatter me too much" it takes you a second to let sink in what he just said, but when it did, you lightly slapped his naked shoulder, snorting a laugh.

"Stupid" he smiled, chuckling cheekily, and you could literally feel it on your skin.

Sometimes it was a matter of saving time instead of having fun, though. Maybe one morning you were both running late so while he was shaving you were also shaving, or washing your hair. Or vice versa honestly.

And other times again you even had small arguments while showering. Nothing really major because it wasn't exactly appropriate to pour out your feelings while being literally naked and wet, but a few times it did happen.

It usually either ended up being interrupted and finishing once you were both dry and ready to go at each other, or literally be the calming moment you needed to clear things up.

"I'm sorry if i was an asshole earlier" he rests his forehead on the nape of your neck, wrapping his arms around you. You sigh, placing your hands on his jointed ones.

"I know you're very stressed" you start, turning your head to the side searching for his, "But thanks for the apology nonetheless"

"I love you", he nuzzled his nose on your cheek.

"I love you too" you pecked him on the lips as a confirmation you forgave him.

Anyways lots of cuddles and massages and kisses and stuff!! Chan king of caring for his partner 100% <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[chvoswxtch]

revelation

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: billy's questioning leads to more than one epiphany you weren't ready for.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, lots of angst, billy being the shithead he is

word count: 4.2k

a/n: I know y'all were big mad at me last update. I don't know if this one makes up for it or not. but...enjoy. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [ next chapter] | [series masterlist]

Flickers of flesh colored light began to flash in your brain. It was as if each of your senses were rebooting one by one, your body slowly clawing its way out of the darkened abyss you’d been lost in. Murmurs of conversation and clinks of metal crept into your eardrums. While that sickly sweet artificial chemical taste lingered on your tongue, a dull throbbing was emanating from the back of your head. Trying to inhale a deep breath, a familiar strong cologne seemed to flip the switch of consciousness. 

“Ah, there she is.”

As your eyes fluttered open, you fought through the haze of disorientation, forcing your vision to clear. A blur of green approached slowly, and after blinking a few times, the fuzzy silhouette came into focus. Billy knelt down in front of you, a serpentine smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. 

Your bones felt like they were made of stone, but when you tried to move, you realized it wasn’t just a mental restriction, but also a physical one. Glancing downwards, you saw that your wrists and legs had been bound to the chair you were in with black leather straps. White hot rage struck through your nervous system like a bolt of lightning. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“You tell me.”

“I'm the one tied to a chair here, asshole.”

Billy let out an amused chuckle at your sharp snap, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Just a precaution, darlin’. I've seen you in action, and I like my face the way it is.”

Narrowing your eyes in resentment, your lips were set in a tight line as you clenched your jaw while simultaneously clenching your fists. Billy’s eyes flickered down to your hands before returning to your heated glare, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose. Standing up fully, he grabbed a wooden crate to his left and dragged it over towards you. After sitting down on the edge of it and folding his arms over his chest, he gave a faint nod of his head in your direction.

“I need to know what you know.”

“About what?”

“Frank and Madani.”

Pure annoyance laced with confusion quickly creased between your brows, and your exasperation was evident in your tone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy. That’s what this is about? I told you I don't know anything. Okay, whatever you and Madani have Frank working on-”

Billy suddenly cut you off, snapping his fingers before pointing his index finger in your direction.

“Ah, see, that right there. Madani and I don't work together. We never have. Anvil has a contract with Homeland, but my business is with them, not her.”

Billy paused for a moment, letting those words linger in the air. He searched your face for any flicker of recognition that would give you away, but all he could see in your expression was perplexity. And that you were royally pissed off. Either you had one hell of a poker face, or you truly didn’t know anything. He was determined to find out.

“And I haven't assigned anything to Frank in almost two months, because he told me he needed some personal time to take care of somethin’. So imagine my surprise when you tell me that he’s got some business goin’ on with me and Madani.”

Every word that left Billy’s lips left you feeling confused. It was like he was single handedly ripping up the pieces of what you thought you knew regarding this entire situation with Frank. The ferocity of your anger dulled slightly, becoming overshadowed by disillusionment. 

“I…I don't understand.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

In an instant, your brain began to replay every single conversation with Frank over the last two months, trying to figure out what you were missing. You could feel in your gut that the answer was right in front of your face, but you were struggling to figure it out, and it left you feeling immensely frustrated. Dropping your gaze to the concrete floor beneath your feet, your eyes darted back and forth, like you were reading some invisible text written in the cracks.

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 

It’s personal.

Those were the key phrases that kept popping up in your head. They were the ones sticking out from the rest, and your foggy brain was relentlessly trying to figure out why. Closing your eyes, you tried to shift your mindset. You had to treat this like a story. You had to walk through what you knew, sort through the pieces Frank had given you, and connect the red string on the mental evidence board in your brain.

Thinking back to the conversation where you’d confronted Frank at his apartment about his strange behavior, you willed your brain to focus on what he’d said, and how he said it.

“He…he said he had a new assignment.”

Billy had been watching you closely, paying attention to the flash of varying emotions crossing your face. He could see that you were trying to figure something out in your head, and your words made him sit up straighter. 

“What did he say the assignment was?”

You remembered Frank looking remorseful as he sat on his couch, trying to explain the situation, but he had also looked…guarded. He didn’t maintain eye contact with you the entire time, which was strange, and when he did look at you, there had been something in his eyes besides guilt. It was a flicker of something you couldn’t decipher, because he was hiding it from you. Whatever it was, he didn’t want you to see it.

“He didn’t. He just said it was personal. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”

“What did he tell you?”

That feeling of frustration you’d felt during that initial conversation bubbled up once again, and you let out an irritated exhale through your nose as you opened your eyes and tilted your head back to look upwards. Wherever Billy had you, it appeared to be underground. There weren’t any windows, and the fluorescent overhead lights were harsh, aggravating your sensitive eyes. You swiftly shut them again to block out the light, trying hard to conjure that memory of Frank once more.

But all you could see was your mother. The unpleasant glare above brought you back to a sterile hospital room, and instead of Frank’s deep voice, you heard the daunting beeping on the machines that had controlled her fate with their wires, and the struggle of her labored breathing. Her body had turned against her, stolen her time, but it hadn’t been able to take her feisty spirit. 

Clenching your fists, you tried desperately to escape the memory, but your mother had always been as stubborn as you were. The phantom feeling of the chilled flesh that barely covered the bones of her hand touching your skin felt so real and vivid, you didn’t know if Billy had knocked you out again or not.

Her familiar voice from one of her last good moments, exhausted with illness, but still melodic with whimsy, played in your ears.

“Can you force the tide to come back to the shore?”

A furrow of confusion had settled between your brows at her interjection, and you’d refocused your attention from the book in your hands towards her.

“Did they up your meds?”

“Ha ha ha, smartass.”

Setting down the book you’d been reading her, you smiled at ever present sarcasm, and you’d rolled your eyes playfully.

“No mom, I can’t force the tide to come back to the shore.”

“And why is that?”

There had been a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes, even though they were slightly sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. You had resisted the urge to answer literally about gravity and the moon, and instead let her continue with whatever point she was trying to make.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

She’d reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, and her skin had been so cool to the touch, felt so fragile, it had made your heart constrict in your chest.

“Because it comes on its own. You just have to be patient, and let it come to you.”

Patience had never been your strong suit, especially when it came to putting things together, or trying to figure something out. If something didn’t click fast enough, you would get frustrated and try to coerce it, to make it make sense, which usually never worked in your favor. It wasn’t until you stopped trying so hard and took a step back that you had your biggest breakthroughs. Clearly, it was a lesson you were still trying to learn.

“Y/N. What did Frank say-”

“Can you shut the hell up? I’m trying to think.”

Billy narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips when you snapped at him through your gritted teeth, but he obliged. Letting out a quiet shaky breath, you resisted the urge to give into the emotions building up behind your eyelids from that memory. You slowly unclenched your fists and relaxed your jaw. 

Quit trying to force fragments together. Focus. Let it come to you.

Instead of rushing through the memories and waiting for the answers to pop out, you replayed them slowly, carefully analyzing over every frame, dissecting every word. Frank had been very cautious with his phrasing, but that wasn’t a coincidence. 

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 

Madani gave me some intel. 

Madani needed someone she could trust.

“He said that he was helping Madani-”

Madani. Frank said he was helping Madani. Not once had Frank mentioned Billy. He had only ever said Dinah’s name. 

Opening your eyes, you slowly lowered your head, looking straight forward at Billy. He arched one of his dark brows, an expectant look on his face.

“Said he was helpin’ Madani with what?”

For a moment you stared at Billy in complete silence. Something wasn’t right. As soon as you had let it slip in your office that Frank was working with Madani, Billy had physically reacted. There was something that had flashed in his eyes, darkening them to momentary blackness. His voice was cold when he’d questioned you about it, almost…angry. You’d initially thought it was because he thought you knew something you weren’t supposed to about Frank’s “assignment”. 

But now you realized it was because he didn’t know about it.

“Why didn’t Frank tell you?”

There was unmistakable suspicion in your voice, and it visibly caught Billy off guard. He narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you.

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.”

Frank hadn’t mentioned anything about what he was doing with Madani to Billy, his best friend. The man he served side by side with for years, had formed a brotherhood with, who he had considered part of his family. That made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a dreadful chill straightened your spine. He hadn’t been able to tell you exactly what was going on, but he’d at least given you something. 

Frank had mentioned owing Madani a debt, but he was loyal to a fault, and the fact that he hadn’t told Billy set off warning bells in your head. But Billy’s extreme reaction to being purposefully left in the dark was what set your nervous system ablaze with unease. 

The idea of Frank working with Madani without his knowledge seemed to set Billy off, triggering a volatile chain of events. He’d drugged you, kidnapped you from Curtis’ apartment, was essentially holding you hostage, and now he was interrogating you to figure out what you knew. 

One of Frank’s cryptic explanations abruptly parted through the lingering clouds of fogginess in your brain, shedding a blinding light on the most important piece that had been hidden in the shadows of your subconscious. 

“Oh my God.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and shrouded in disbelief.

It’s connected to someone I know.

You remembered how Frank had stiffened when he’d said that, how his face had hardened to stone. His voice had been quiet, layered with an ominous undertone and barely concealed vitriol. He’d nearly morphed into a man you didn’t recognize right in front of your eyes, and it had made you shiver with discomfort.

And suddenly it clicked. Betrayal. That cold flicker in his eyes he tried to hide was betrayal.

“It’s you.”

Billy watched as the canvas of your face morphed into a portrait of realization and horror.

He visibly stiffened at those words, his lips pressing into a firm line, emphasizing the sharpness of his jaw. 

Billy. All of this was because of Billy. Whatever Madani had found, it was connected to him. That’s why she brought it to Frank. Little moments started to stand out in your head that made you wonder just how long ago Madani had planted the seed of doubt in Frank’s mind. Looking back, he’d acted strangely when you’d mentioned Billy’s name recently, but it was so subtle that you hadn’t even picked up on it.

But him being adamant about leaving you with Curtis, someone you’d never even heard about or met until yesterday, should've been a huge clue.

Knowing that what was causing the divide between you and Frank was none other than the man currently standing in front of you and whatever he had done, you were swiftly filled with an anger that turned your blood molten. Your disbelief and horror slowly hardened into a wall of ice, but your eyes were aflame with resentment.

“What did you do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation, and the way you grit it through your teeth demanded an answer. Billy’s eyes showed no hint of remorse, and he made no attempt to correct whatever conclusions you were drawing in your head in regards to his character. He rose to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over you, staring down into the flames of rancor blazing in your eyes with a steely gaze of his own. 

“I made something of myself.”

His voice was crisp and clear. There was no layer of apology, no waver of regret. Whatever he’d done, Billy felt justified in it. 

His arrogance had always pissed you off.

Slowly tilting your head to the side, you stared up at him in clear challenge, your tone razor sharp and dripping with venom.

“Yeah? What did it cost?”

The edge of his mouth twitched at your taunt. Grabbing your wrists that were strapped down to the arms of the chair, he leaned forward, getting right in your face as he spoke in an aggravated tone.

“I wasn't handed nothin’. I had to earn everything I got. I had to make some tough decisions along the way, maybe did a few things I'm not so proud of. Empires aren’t built without sacrifice.”

One of the last things Billy had said to you that day in your office when you’d mentioned Frank working with Madani was that some secrets were better left buried. That choice of phrasing left you with a gut feeling that it wasn’t what Billy had left buried, but who. 

“But you didn’t sacrifice anything, did you Billy? No…you sacrificed someone, and it’s come back to haunt you. So who was it? Someone important to Dinah? Or to Frank?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Billy snapped, suddenly getting defensive. His dark brown eyes had eclipsed into pools of disdain, and his lips were twisted into a faint snarl.

“I’m not lettin’ that bitch destroy everything I built.”

Rising to his full height once again, Billy’s expression shifted back into a passive and more controlled one as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna send Frankie an invite to do a little trade, you for whatever he’s got.”

Letting out a dry scoff, you shook your head as you stared up at him.

“You’re really more concerned about losing your wealth than your best friend?”

“If he digs too deep, he’s gonna find somethin’ he ain’t gonna like, and the war he waged on New York is gonna look like a fuckin’ daydream compared the nightmare he’s gonna bring to my doorstep.”

Billy’s words seemed to pour over you like a bucket of ice, your fiery rage fizzling into frozen perplexity.

“War on New York? What are you talking about?”

Billy’s eyes flickered up from the phone in his hand, meeting your confused gaze. He arched one of his dark brows, looking at you curiously. 

“Oh c’mon, you haven’t figured it out yet? You’re a clever girl. You didn’t put together the pieces I gave you?”

“What pieces?”

“The gift I left on your desk.”

The file. The one that had Frank’s name on it. You’d had a sneaking suspicion Billy was the one that left it, but you never asked him about it, or paid it any attention after your argument with Frank. A furrow of annoyance settled between your brows.

“I never read it.”

Billy seemed genuinely surprised by that, and also confused.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t my business, and Frank found it anyway and took it.”

He eyed you silently for a moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket and sitting back down on the edge of the crate. Billy cocked his head to the side slightly.

“He tell you how his family died?”

Immediately, you went rigid. A wave of emotions crested within you. The recollection of Frank’s vulnerability in opening up about his tragic loss was fresh. It wasn’t something you’d forget anytime soon, or ever. Hearing the grief in his voice, seeing the pain in his eyes; the worst day of Frank’s life was seared into your memory as deeply as the memory of your own. Billy bringing it up so casually incensed you all over again.

“Why does that matter?”

Billy let out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose at your defensive tone. 

“Did he tell you how they died?”

He repeated his words in a more firm voice, holding your heated gaze.

“Yes, you dick. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Instead of being angry at your insult, a smirk curled at the edge of Billy’s mouth. There was a wicked gleam in his eye, and it filled you with a sickening feeling of foreboding. 

“Pop quiz, sweetheart. Who were the three gangs the Punisher took out?”

Bewilderment wiped any lingering emotion from your face. Billy’s question seemed to send a shock through your brainwaves, causing a delay between it and your mouth.

“What?”

“C’mon, this is an easy one. You wrote an article about the guy. Who were they?”

Billy’s eyes twinkled with amusement under the harsh fluorescents, clearly enjoying knowing something you didn’t. He was taunting you, and despite knowing better than to give into his little game, your curiosity got the better of you.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel.”

Billy’s lips spread into a pleased smirk at your reluctant answer, and he gave you a faint not of his head.

“Good girl. Now, you had a uh, mentor, at the Bulletin. Ben, right?” 

The mention of Ben’s name sent a pang through you, but Billy’s sudden switch in topics from the Punisher’s victims to Ben gave you mental whiplash. He didn’t give you more than a second to react before he continued.

“He wrote an article a few years ago about a little shootout, ended in a massacre. Remind me, where was that?”

Anxiety shot through you, making every single hair on your body stand to attention. 

“Central Park.”

“And there was one survivor. What was his name?”

The apprehension you felt was evident in the way you lightly gripped onto the arms of the chair. You hadn’t known that answer when Ben originally worked on that article, but you knew it now. Trying to keep up the strong front you were putting on, you attempted to keep your voice even.

“His name was never released.”

“No, it wasn’t. But when he woke up from that coma and found out his entire family had been killed in that shootout, he sure as hell made sure that New York would never forget the one they gave him.”

Billy watched the way your expression transitioned from translucent coolness, to perplexity, and finally wary hesitance. Keeping his eyes locked on you, he slowly rose from the crate, stalking towards you, but instead of coming to a stop in front of you like he had earlier, he began to circle you like a predator. 

“Tell me sweetheart, who was there that day?”

“Why does that-”

“Just answer the question.”

Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, you began to rattle off the details you remembered from the article.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the-”

Immediately, you froze. Billy came to a stop behind you, and you could almost feel the way he was staring at the back of your head intensely.

“And?”

His voice was calm, but you could detect a hint of amusement. He was enjoying this, forcing you to solve his little riddle. But this time, you didn’t want to put the pieces together. You didn’t want to solve this puzzle. You wanted to run away from it. 

“The Mexican Cartel.”

The words were barely a decibel above a whisper when they left your lips, but in the silence of the space, they seemed to roar in your ears. Your hands were now gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that your knuckles had gone stark white, the flesh stretched taut over the bone. 

Feeling Billy’s hands settle on your shoulders, you flinched, and he squeezed them roughly in response. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he bent down to speak directly into your ear.

“What’s his name?”

Billy was a master manipulator. He was toying with you, trying to get a rise out of you by messing with your head. That’s all this was. It was a cruel trick, trying to make you think that the man who had single handedly wiped out the three largest gangs in New York City was the John Doe from the hospital. The he was-

“C’mon, you’re a smart girl. I can see the gears turning in your head. You know his name. Tell me who the Punisher-”

“The Punisher is dead.”

The sharpness and volume of your voice seemed to echo around the space you were currently trapped in. 

“Dead, huh?”

Billy gave your shoulders another firm squeeze before letting go and appearing in front of you again. He looked down at you, taking in the way your eyes were wide open, your breathing had become ragged, and your nails nearly bled from digging them into the wood of the chair so hard. He knelt down in front of you, brushing your hair away from your face, causing you to flinch at his touch, which seemed to annoy him.

He ran his hand through the strands of his raven hair, pushing it back into its perfectly gelled style as he let out a deep exhale through his nose and glanced around absentmindedly.

“He should be. Shoulda died a long time ago. Hell, that bullet to the head shoulda put him down for good. But that stubborn son of a bitch just refuses to die.”

Shutting your eyes, you could see Frank in the cabin. The golden sunlight coming through the window, shining on his tan skin. His warm brown eyes locked on yours, making you feel like he could see right into your soul. The roughness of his calloused palms stroking your cheek while tucking your hair behind your ear. The velvet baritone of his voice echoing in your ears.

We uh…we were at Central Park. We had this uh…this tradition, ya’know. Every time I came home from a tour, we’d pack a picnic and go, make a whole day of it. 

I don’t uh…I don’t remember when the shootin’ started.

I…made peace with it, ya’know…laid it to rest in my own way. 

It was there. It was right there. Frank had inadvertently told you the truth that day, and you hadn’t even realized.

Billy could see the revelation you’d had when you opened your eyes. He could see the evidence of the truth shining along your bottom lash line. You were so thunderstruck by your epiphany, you didn’t budge this time when Billy reached out to brush a stray tear away from your face.

“Nah, he ain’t dead sweetheart. He's been right by your side this whole time. And when he finds out I've got you, he’s gonna come for you.”

It didn’t matter what Frank had found on Billy. As soon as he found out what Billy had done to you, he was coming. But it wasn’t Frank who was coming.

It was the Punisher.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[brynn-lear]

WHODRANKIT [H:SR Yandere Otome Game] Demo 1.1

!!! INCLUDES AVENTURINE AND SUNDAY ROUTE CHAPTER 1 !!!

✧ content warnings/tags: yandere themes, mentions of racial/"species" discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), slight visual blood, cult-like behavior, gender neutral player (uses they/them), the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC, Mac, android, AND online play on any devices for free.)

Please consider donating to my kofi here! I can't afford college at the moment due to financial problems and I'd appreciate any donation to continue my studies 🙏🙏🙏. I'd also appreciate feedback through asks and other mediums such as gameplay and post reviews! It would be fun to read your theories ^^

You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...

☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular that loves to nag you?

☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two?

☕ Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?

☕ that jerk Sunday, who seem insistent on becoming your ally despite his intrusive and controlling actions?

☕ or maybe Argenti, the new friend you made who has some obsession over capturing beauty across the universe?

... so: WHODRANKIT?

WHAT'S AVAILABLE IN VERSION 1.1?

The full version of the Common Route, therefore including a finalized version of the route splits. [Sunday's Route is accessible by agreeing to his terms.]

1 Bad Ending for both Aventurine and Sunday

New CGs and additional characters [aka we finally get Robin]

Just. Pain.

CREDITS

SOURCE FOR CHARACTERS, UI, ASSETS: Hoyoverse. Sourced from the-astral-express-archive

BACKGROUND IMAGES: Pexels, Unsplashed, and tumblr users leftdestiny-posts​ and mixed-kester

CODE CREDITS:

PHONE SCREEN ASSETS AND CODE Elckarow​ (these are so useful huhu)

CODE FOR FUN TEXT EFFECTS SoDaRa

MUSIC CREDITS:

Every Day Every Day (Night) Version I Love  I Love (you) naraven​ on tumblr

Cooking by Alex-Productions https://onsound.eu/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Colorful Flowers by Tokyo Music Walker https://soundcloud.com/user-356546060 Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

The Calling Exzel Music Publishing (freemusicpublicdomain.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

The Nymphaeum Part III Exzel Music Publishing (freemusicpublicdomain.com) Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Missing You by Purrple Cat https://purrplecat.com/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

The Cannery by Kevin MacLeod https://incompetech.com/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

Mellow Cafe Vibe John Bartmann Music: https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/

I'd like to give an extra shout out to @a-dose-of-phitre, @estellxli, @naraven, and @harmonysanreads for being part of the brainstorming crew for this game. Ya'll are real Gs <3

[notjustjavierpena]

Applied Physics

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Long awaited smutty piece with a planned sequel. I hope you enjoy, ya filthy animal ��🎀💖

Summary: It’s the 60s, you’re three weeks behind on a deadline, and your professor, Doctor Reed Richards, makes you face the consequences. 

Pairing: Reed Richards x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: College student/teacher relationship, science talk, Reed has powers, dub con, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, implied dacryphilia, dirty talking, sub drop, aftercare, stern Reed 🥵

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62948440/chapters/161199763

Applied Physics

Dr. Reed N. Richards always wears a tweed jacket with elbow patches that show off his broad shoulders and give him an irresistible swagger. He teaches physics at your college part-time - when he is not out saving the world - and he is equally terrifying as he is warm, a combination of traits that you have learned can actually coexist but only after meeting him. 

You have been wanting him since he walked into the classroom that morning many months ago, carrying a black leather binder seemingly filled with little to nothing since everything appears to be stored in his brain. 

He has standards, you find, and traditional ways of doing things that somehow emphasize his love for the delicacy of science. For instance, he only grades papers with a fountain pen and therefore expects every assignment to be handwritten instead of done on a typewriter which is tedious and difficult for those who don’t possess a steady hand. The scary part of him comes out when he says he simply won’t grade the papers that aren’t turned in as he wants them to be. The warm part shows itself when he later makes a self-deprecating joke about knocking over whiskey during his grading. 

The idea of the paper smelling like his cologne or even, if you are lucky, has a stain of his favorite liquor, makes you hand in each assignment whilst the ink is still drying on the paper. Perhaps you will be the first one to receive notes and feedback from him if you turn in your work before its deadline.

You imagine him hunched over a desk, pen barely able to fit in his rough hand. He wears something casual, maybe even has taken off that jacket, scratching his beard and sipping his drink whilst smiling to himself as he reads words that come from your mind. Your mind makes him smile to himself, makes him single you out from the rest of your class because you are special and he knows this. It’s the image you imagine the first time you come whilst thinking about him, shower head between your thighs and legs against the tiled wall in the shared bathroom at the boarding house you reside in. 

When you do finally get your first essay back from him, you read all the comments in the margins during your lunch. You lick a drop of juice from an apple away from your lower lip as your eyes skim over a scribbled good or well done, trying to find an excuse to read more into the way he looks at you when you talk during class. You made him laugh once, that must mean something, right? He clearly has your sense of humor, the same ways of applying theory and reasoning. 

You know that it is hardly rational what you are doing, projecting all these things onto him when, in reality, you only know of him what you have seen during his lectures and office hours. Yet you have found yourself noticing the way he smiles faintly when you correct one of your fellow students during group work, and it has spurred you on to become even more insufferable to your classmates only to get his attention. His approval too, if you are lucky. 

Yet despite all this, here you are with an assignment running three weeks late, your procrastination having reached its limits and your excuses to your professor wearing thin. It’s a challenging state to be in when you’re so used to ranking your popularity with Dr. Richards higher than everyone else on this course. Sure, his attention is nice when it is rooted in praise but you don’t know if the kind that will follow this lecture, the deadline you’d agreed upon for your paper being yesterday, is the kind that will satisfy something in you like the small smiles have. 

You keep bouncing your leg beneath your desk as you wait for Dr. Richards to enter the lecture hall with that cool aura about him and let the fast-paced lecture begin. If anyone sees you, they will recognize it as an itching to suck up to him once more but in reality, it is the first time you’ve been in the room with a nervous tic. 

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he greets as he finally arrives and you find yourself jolting with nerves at the fact that he is finally here and inevitable doom is just around the corner. It doesn’t make it better that his brown eyes sweep over the crowd in a hurry until he spots you, his gaze full of concentration until he gains eye contact with you for less than a second. You sit up straighter at the way he measures you and the subconscious movement of your leg stills completely. Frustratingly, the man keeps talking as if nothing happened. 

After several attempts to regain your composure, you realize that you have completely missed his introduction to today’s lecture and while trying to ignore the thrill that is simmering beneath your anxiety, you scramble to start taking notes. It’s not to show him that you can go back to being his favorite student but rather a necessity to keep yourself from being three weeks further behind.

You power through the lecture even with your fuzzy mind, scribbling things down and making sure to appreciate the privilege it is to be taught by one of the greatest minds to ever live. This is even if he, multiple times, falls into the usual pattern of diving headfirst into multi-layered explanations of different phenomena and concepts, droning on as if none of you and the rest of your classmates exist to him anymore. 

You pretend to keep up when he does this but even you must admit that he loses you. However, you know for a fact that it is not out of disinterest that you stop listening but rather your mind focusing on something else when his words become too difficult to follow. Instead, you end up mapping out the length of his gorgeous neck, the beauty spot where his collar ends. It is enough to leave your mouth dry, but not enough to drag your mind off the scolding you’ll get soon.

When the lecture comes to an end, you have psyched yourself enough to stupidly get up and try to follow the rest of the students out. They trickle out hurriedly though and you find yourself at the back of the school of people heading for the door. 

“Hold it right there,” Reed’s voice travels through the room and hits you right in the back, making you falter in your step. Your last name rolls off his tongue with the same kind of confidence and composure that you’d tried to conjure up just an hour ago. 

“Sir, I was just—“ you rest your hand on the doorknob to signal that you are leaving but you know already that you have lost the fight to exit the room. 

You hear it before you see it; the faint and strange rustling of fabric as something wooshes closer. Suddenly, your teacher’s stretched-out arm moves past you like you have seen it do on television and then his hand attached to said arm splays flat on the door. He closes it with a soft click while you hold your breath. 

Slowly, it retracts back to normal and you follow it with your eyes by glancing over your shoulder. Time stands still for a moment at the sight because while Reed Richards has stretched his body multiple times in the past, without much thought behind it and much to his students' shock, he never puts anyone in the position to experience it firsthand. 

“Sir, I—“

“Come here,” he says quietly. 

You grab the strap of your bag tightly and make your way to the desk where he sits. You decide to beat him to his reprimand, talking even if your voice shakes at his disapproving stare, “I’m sorry I missed this week’s deadline.”

“This week? Try the last three,” he calmly corrects you, “You have done your research on force, impact, and energy transfer in non-elastic collisions, have you not?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And you’ve still not turned anything in? Why?”

“I've been overwhelmed with coursework and–” You trail off when he raises a brow. He is still sitting down but even so, you feel like you are shrinking underneath his authority. You find it hard to believe that anything out your mouth right now will be taken seriously when you have let him down three times already but you try to reassure him anyway, “It won’t happen again, I promise,”

“No, it won’t,” he agrees as he pushes himself to stand. He drags the chair away from the table as if he thinks it is in his way, “You’re brighter than most, so I don’t believe I need to remind you what happens if you keep slacking.”

“No, sir, I’m aware.”

“I mean, we’ve already moved way past force dynamics and energy exchange on this year’s curriculum, so you’re wasting my time,” he goes on with an annoyed sigh that tells you he has better things to do, “What am I supposed to do with you?”

“I don’t know, sir,” you stare at the flooring.

“Come closer,” he orders calmly. He lets his gaze flick down to your hand clutching your bag of books, “Take out your book on core concepts.”

You follow his eyes and pull out the right book before gently letting the strap of your bag slide off your shoulder until the bag hits the floor with a soft thud. Something tells you that you’re not leaving anytime soon.

“Place it on the desk and find the pages on Newton’s Laws,” he continues and your heart slams against your ribs at the thought of an impromptu pop quiz instead of a handed-in paper. Yes, you know these pages but in the presence of him, you’re not so sure. 

Behind you, Reed has shrugged off his jacket while you were flipping through the book. He folds it neatly and hangs it over the back of the chair he was displeased with a moment ago, making sure not to crease the fabric. Then he reaches for the sleeves of the white shirt that he is wearing and rolls them up to his elbows, revealing the slightly visible veins of his forearms. Your head swims and you subtly press your thighs together, images of what you’d like him to do to you flooding your mind.

“Bend over,” he says suddenly, murmuring it almost as if he knows he shouldn’t have said it. 

Your eyes widen and you glance in the door’s direction. There are so many people on the outside of this room right now but the chances of someone walking in are slim since lectures are rarely started at this hour of the afternoon, “I don’t understand?”

“You don’t have to understand anything. I want you to put your palms on either side of the book and bend over,” he elaborates and clearly notices your hesitation, the direction of your eyes. His arm stretches out in front of you again, snaking its way past the rows of chairs until it reaches the door once more. He locks it, the soft click of it mixing with your unsteady breathing, and then he pulls down the curtain in the window at the top. 

When the arm smoothly retracts once more, you naturally think it will stop at his side but instead, you feel his palm on the back of your neck. His other hand joins to lay on the small of your back and then he pushes down gently to maneuver you into the position that he wants. 

You exhale shakily as you place your hands on the desk, feeling the smooth wood underneath your fingertips as a way to ground yourself in a moment so electric. Your body is way ahead of you, reacting to the anticipation of his next move by making a dull ache settle right between your legs. Your clit throbs, your walls flutter. 

“Your paper was supposed to use Newton’s Laws as a foundation, let me make sure you know them properly,” Reed says simply while removing his hand from your lower back. His other hand, the one on the back of your neck, slips down your spine to take the previous one’s spot, leaving fire in its wake, “Recite them.”

You swallow thickly, “Newton’s First Law states that a body at rest—”

Smack. 

A loud gasp leaves you at the surprise of Reed’s free hand coming down on your backside, heat spreading out underneath the fabric of your skirt where it has struck you. Your head whips around to stare at him in disbelief at what he has just done, your mouth hanging open in shock.

“Eyes on the book,” he commands sternly, curling his fingers slightly into the hem of your shirt, “Go on. Newton’s First Law.”

You count three whole breaths before you will yourself to face forward again, looking down at the text in front of you and trying to regain your ability to read. You swallow the lump in your throat, the letters jumbled on the page, “Uhh…”

“Concentrate,” he adds and gives you another blow, one that makes you jolt forward on the desk and send the book almost over the edge. You frantically reach for it, noticing the way your heart leaps into your throat when you consider what would have happened if it had fallen off. 

You drag the book back down and try to act cool but your voice tells on you as you start to read out loud, “A-a body at rest stays at rest, and a body in motion stays in motion—”

He spanks you again and elicits another gasp but you seem to have expected it since you don’t go flying forward. This is even if his palm leaves behind a much more painful sting this time and makes your toes curl in your shoes. 

“Until…” He sounds impatient. 

You act immediately like a dog who is learning about action and consequences, “Until acted upon by an external force.”

“Good girl,” he praises and you don’t know why the softness of his voice makes you tear up. His broad palm traces over the spot that is warming up already and you make a show out of sighing with content. 

However, the soothing touch is short-lived and you start struggling just slightly as Reed’s hand descends until he can grab the hem of your pencil skirt and roughly tug it up. He settles it just above the plumpness of your ass, swatting you to make you focus and stop squirming. 

“I’m not going to fuck you so stop moving around,” he scolds and surprises you with yet another smack. It feels different now that each slap is skin-on-skin contact, sounds different too as the noise echoes through the empty lecture hall. You whine in slight disappointment, even if you have inappropriately imagined his cock in you during circumstances so different so many times. 

“Second Law,” he murmurs, occupied briefly by the bruise forming on your cheek and scraping his nails across it. 

“W-what?” You let out a whimper, your thighs pressing together to soothe your pulsing clit. In theory, you know what he has said but it just isn’t registering since your mind is occupied by you knowing exactly what you will be doing back home if he won’t touch you. In fact, a thrill goes through you at the thought of another blow to recall in your bed with your hand stuffed into your underwear.

“Newton’s Second Law,” he repeats with a smaller swat following. You suck in a breath to calm yourself. 

“Newton’s Second Law states that the net force on an object is equal to its mass times its acceleration,” you say somewhat confidently, a sense of calm settling over you as you finally feel like you are getting a handle on the situation. 

“Apply it to the situation you’re in right now,” he tests you. You feel your face grow hot and hesitation seizes you for a second. It takes a moment too long for him and a much sharper smack lands right on the jiggliest part of your ass, the sharpness of the pain making you moan for the first time and the noise of the blow bouncing off the walls. You almost even swear in your professor’s presence, and you would have if it weren’t for the way tears in your eyes take off the edge.

“You’ll get one more if you don’t open your mouth soon,” he adds. You’re just about to speak, about to follow orders, when he takes a step closer and presses his cock into your hip. You freeze at the size of him, a sound that can only be described as pathetic leaving you. Reed huffs out a chuckle and smacks you once more albeit slightly less maliciously.

“Y–you’re applying a force to me. Your hand is the mass and the acceleration is essentially the swing of your arm. The shorter the time and the greater the velocity of the impact, the bigger the force I feel,” you try not to hiccup through the whole explanation but the words take a longer time to come to you and your backside is hypersensitive, warm, and sore. Your pulse rings in your ears too, and you swear you can almost taste the adrenaline in your mouth from how it is coursing through your body. It might just be salt from your tears though which you realize will simply give you an excuse as to why you stayed behind after class. If you really try, you might be able to conjure up an act of a student who got some terrible feedback.

“Still with me?” You hear him ask, feel him soothe your burning flesh. You wonder if his palm is imprinted on your cheek.

“Yes, sir,” you mumble with a sniffle, your palms sticking to the desk from how clammy they have become. 

“Speak up,” he corrects you and his palm leaves you long enough for you to start anticipating another strike. No hands on your body makes it harder to abstain from feeling his hard cock resting against your hip, the heaviness of it making you even wetter and oh God, aching to be filled.

“Yes, sir,” you enunciate without coming off as bratty. The next strike doesn’t come and relief washes over you, allowing you to relish in the cool air brushing your tingling and bruised skin.

“Last but not least. Newton’s Third Law?” 

“F-for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction,” you say and rest your forehead on the book that has absorbed a few teardrops, He doesn't give you praise or a soothing touch. It bewilders you, makes you question if your scatterbrained state has accidentally made you say something that is wrong. You go quiet except for your rapid breathing as you go over your answer in your head but nothing comes to mi–

The sudden smack instantly makes you realize where you went wrong, landing across the exact spot that’s already stinging and causing you to hiss and whine through your teeth. Quickly, you scramble to relate Newton to what Reed is doing to you, “If… if you strike me, my body exerts a force back on your hand.”

“Mhm, good,” he hums while your head swims, “And I bet you’re feeling that force right now.”

“It hurts,” you whimper feebly and turn your head to the side. Yes, it’s the truth but your body can’t tell if it’s supposed to register this as pain or pleasure, the sensations overlapping intensely.

“That’s part of the lesson,” Reed’s hand returns in a gentle touch, his large palm settling carefully over the same spot he has just mercilessly spanked, “Why does it hurt?”

You wish he’d move his hand down between your legs and make you come when he realizes how soaked-through your panties are, “B-because when you spank me your hand transfers kinetic energy into my skin. The force and the friction cause heat to build. The tissues and blood vessels react, and it—”

“Gives you that glow. Precisely,” he finishes your sentence and curls his hand around your hip firmly. He sounds enthralled by his work, “And I respond with arousal, meaning it makes me so goddamn hard. Now, hold still. These last three are for the three missed deadlines.”

You know he means business when his finger slips underneath the waistband of your panties. He pulls them down just enough to settle them underneath the globes of your ass without exposing your needy cunt, the elastic of them digging slightly into sore skin. His other hand lifts and you brace yourself even if you know that any human can suffer through even uncontrollable pain if they know there’s an end to it. 

The first of three strikes lands right on the curve of your backside, harder than any of the several ones before it and making your entire body seize up. He isn’t playing around this time, your skin immediately blooming with newfound heat and fiery pain. It makes you moan out loud and squeeze your eyes shut until fireworks go off behind your eyelids.

“Count,” he says calmly. 

“O-one,” you manage to say in a voice that makes it sound like an apology instead. 

The second one makes it feel like there’s a clap of thunder going through your bones. You jolt forward on the desk enough to finally send the damn book flying off the edge to the floor. Reed tightens his grip on your hip to steady you, dragging you back to him again as if to remind you that despite everything he’s got you. 

“Two,” you say shakily, “I’m sorry, Professor Richards.”

He rubs the spot to soothe your burning flesh and by now, a part of you wants to crawl into his lap and be held. He coos softly at you and gently squeezes the roundness of your ass, making you bite down on your bottom lip and exhale a needy whine through your nose. 

“No need to bring me apologies,” he tells you, “We’ll see if you’ve learned your lesson. Last one.”

He lets you wait for the final smack, but when his hand lands on your skin, a sharp cry rips from your throat. Tears start flowing freely from your eyes now - even if you’re still not fully crying as emotions have not caught up with you yet - but it’s not solely from the pain, but also from the swirl of adrenaline and arousal that tightens below your belly button. You wonder if you should reach up to wipe your eyes but you can’t make yourself let go of the desk underneath you, clutching it in an iron grip because of how wobbly your legs are.

“Three,” you hiccup as Reed loosens his grip on you. You feel the ache of your behind with every heartbeat and want to sob now that it is over. You’re hyper-aware of what is happening in your body which is the adrenaline starting to crash, and the emotions, coming in like a wave, are just about to overwhelm you when—

“Sit up on the desk for me,” Reed says gently. 

“But the book,” you glance toward the textbook that you sent flying not long ago. It is a silly thing to cling onto but there’s an emotional wavering in your voice as you say it which Reed seems to catch onto. 

“Leave it,” he murmurs, an order but not like the previous ones, “Sit. I need to make sure you’re alright.”

The task seems impossible. You barely manage to push yourself fully upright, your shaking legs nearly not able to hold you up, and when you turn around to lift yourself onto the desk, you feel the edge dig into your sore behind in a way that forces a hiss out of you. A tear that you have no control over rolls slowly down your cheek.

“Easy,” Reed is beside you, catching onto your motive when you get ready to jump up onto the surface in a hurry due to his earlier lack of patience. He has previously had a hovering hand nearby but now, he grabs a hold of you to still you, “Do it carefully.”

When you’re finally perched on the desk, you’re not sure if the calming cool sensation of the wood beneath your thighs outweighs the pressure against your smarting skin. What you are sure of though is the storm of emotions inside your chest, a raging one made up of an overwhelming mix of new pain, embarrassment, and vulnerability, all of which makes your heart feel too big for your rib cage. 

“I’m okay,” you lie but you hear yourself and know it isn’t very convincing. He gives you a raised eyebrow. 

“Seems like you’re experiencing what is known as a drop. Come on, deep breaths,” he guides you gently when he spots the way your bottom lip wobbles, “If you have to cry, let it out. No one’s going to see you.”

From his words, you realize that your breathing has become unsteady and hitched in very little time. Your shoulders shake and your chest has a ball of unleashed feelings in it that nearly makes you feel sick. It unravels when the tears that you hoped would subside resurface at the permission to let them flow. You feel them brimming at the corners of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing,” you say shakily when they finally spill over even if the tension in your torso slowly ebbs away as you let go. 

“You’re alright. Just breathe for me,” he says softly. He brings his hands to your thighs and rubs them in an attempt to soothe and ground you, “Slow and steady in through the nose and out the mouth. Right now, you don’t have to do anything but calm down, and then I can take a look at you.”

The room around you seems distant as you try to breathe more steadily but you’re lightheaded, feeling almost as if you’re wrapped in a woolen, fuzzy blanket that blocks everything out besides him. You aren’t sure if it is the adrenaline crash anymore or the way that your whole body is so tightly wound for pleasure that won’t come but you crave his touch, crave him taking care of you.

“You’re okay,” he says over and over, drowning out the static in your ears, “No more crying, sweet angel. I’d rather not see you leave here like this.”

The nickname makes you snap out of it. Angel? Did he just call you an angel? Your tears go on hold when you continuously blink up at him from your seat on the desk, pawing at his chest without knowing what to do with all your longing. He makes you feel all the things you have felt since you met him all at once now, a dizzying flurry of thoughts and feelings. 

“That’s better,” he smiles genuinely for the first time and you melt right then and there. He looks so damn handsome when he does it that you go ridiculously doe-eyed at the sight. 

“Thank you,” you mumble while playing with the buttons on his white shirt. The butterflies in your belly have nearly made the pulsing ache of your backside disappear. 

“Stand up,” he says and removes your hands from his chest which you probably make a much bigger deal out of than him, “I need to take a look at you.” 

You stand on wobbly legs. Slowly and carefully, he skims his fingers over the inflamed skin and notes out loud that it is warm. It’s not a soothing caress for the sake of tenderness, but rather a deliberate check-in to take note of how much damage he’s done. He works methodically, like a man who daily works with scientific research and experiments, going over each part of you while humming at his discoveries. 

“Right. Cool compress when you get home for the swelling, ten-fifteen minutes on and off. Frozen peas will do,” he instructs in the exact same tone as when he gives out science homework, “The skin is still intact but you’ll be sore if you don’t treat yourself with a little kindness. Lotion if it is too much to bear and loose clothing. Not a pencil skirt like this one, we clear?” 

You nod with the hint of a pout.

“And,” he adds and grabs lightly at your chin, his tone suddenly playful, “Try not to miss any more deadlines.”

It’s a joke, you realize, something to lighten the atmosphere in the lecture hall and you barely register it from the way his fingers hold your head in place. Despite your watery eyes and racing heartbeat, you huff out a little laugh.

“There we go,” he coos at the sound of your chuckle, “Not so gloomy anymore.”

With gentle hands, he reaches just below your hips to pull your underwear up over the curve of your ass again, careful not to let the waistband tug at the sensitive skin. He does the same with your skirt, tugging the hem down over your thighs until you look decent once more. 

Your lips part slightly as your eyes slide up to look at his face, feeling dumbstruck by his brown intelligent eyes and his aquiline nose straight out of the statues from Ancient Rome. You admire the column of his neck, the mentioned beauty mark just above his collar, and the dip that you want to kiss. 

After a moment, you realize that you have gone quiet and when you look back at his eyes, you are dizzyingly meeting his suddenly intense gaze. It is as if he has calculated that you are back with him, lingering with desire albeit still a little shaken by your tears. His eyes are burning into yours and you can feel the restraint behind them. It is as if you can sense the electricity in the air, the warmth that prickles in your cheeks, and the heat that radiates from him. 

Without a word, he reaches to tuck your shirt into your skirt until it hugs your figure tightly, a fashion choice different from how you had arrived in his classroom earlier. The dominance of styling your clothes as he prefers it makes you press your thighs together, the dull ache returning between your legs. 

“I’ve noticed, seen it all. That’s why I did it,” he says cryptically as he stuffs your shirt down at the back, fingertips brushing the dip of your spine until heat racks up it. 

“Noticed what?” You ask foolishly but had you stopped to think, you would have figured it out already. 

“All the energy you’ve put into getting me to notice you and getting my undivided attention. Congratulations, you’ve finally got it,” he clarifies and lets both his hands rest on the small of your back for the briefest of moments. When he lets go of you, you follow his touch by leaning in to close the distance with a kiss. 

He places a hand on your chest, holding you back just when you are pressing the ghost of a kiss to his lips. He has given you so much by now. Why not this? A ball of frustration settles in your chest and comes out as a little whine of impatience, “Why can’t we?”

He doesn’t pull away, simply speaks less than an inch from your face so you can feel his breath on your mouth, “Because you need to learn restraint, sweet angel. I can’t have you missing your deadlines three weeks in a row - or at all really - due to some little crush.”

You want to defend yourself, say that it has nothing to do with him but deep down, you know it would be a lie straight to his face. So instead, you swallow thickly, “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I saw you.”

“And you will have me,” he kisses you so softly that you want to sink to your knees, “Just not until I say so, and certainly not before you’ve been a good girl and turned in that paper.”

“Sir,” you try one last time.

“I’ll teach you to be patient, to have restraint,” he tells you and makes you realize your attempt was to no avail, “Whether you like it or not.”

You give in, buzzing with the need for more, “I can turn my paper in on Monday. Would that suffice?” 

“I’ll hold you to that, but no late nights and last-minute scrambling. If I find you’ve rushed through it…” he lets the sentence drift off, letting your imagination figure out the consequence, “And it best be your best work yet.”

“Yes, sir,” you reluctantly pull back when nothing seems to work, “Whatever you want.”

“Hand it to me during office hours before class,” he instructs to which you nod.

“But what now?” You ask with a tiny impatient noise, letting him know just how much you’ve got against his reluctance to touch you. 

His hand flexes by his side, “Now you go home. You lock your door and you touch that pretty thing between your thighs just how you like it most. I want you to come for me until you’re hoarse. Three times for three weeks but no more than that, not until we see each other again.”

It is Wednesday and you won’t see him until Monday. How on Earth are you going to survive on only three orgasms after this? Your mind races with protests but you don’t get to voice your concern about the limit he has set because he has already stepped back to pick up his jacket from his desk chair. 

You decide to circle the table to pick up your book and stuff it into your bag. Behind you, Reed’s eyes are definitely on you as you lean forward with a hand on the desk. He is fixing the cuffs of his sleeves and putting on his tweed jacket, trying to come off as if letting you have a private moment to compose yourself.

“Monday,” he reminds you when you stand upright again. His arm stretches out between the rows of chairs and tables once more so he can unlock the door for you. 

“Yes, sir,” you answer obediently. 

You swing your bag over your shoulder and then you leave.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[iamsebastiansstan]

like one of your girls - NAC x fem!reader

summary - “Finally getting a taste of this gorgeous cunt, been thinking about it,” he murmurs against her mound, looks right at her as he says, “Gonna kiss you where I’m gonna fuck you, my sweet,” before he dives right in.

wc - 6k - MINORS DNI !

warnings - lots of dirty talk as always, crying during sex, unprotected p in v, oral (m and f), creampie, aftercare 🥹

A/N - I dedicate this chapter to @hoffmansgirl because he's literally doing it rn girl like literally !!! anyways, this update was fast but I probably won't be writing much for the next few weeks, I GOTTA STUDY lmao come tell me what you thought of this, any and all feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

taglist - @blackynsupremacy / @lalavenderangel / @nicholaschavezbby /

PART 1

Waking up next to him is like a dream she never wants to wake up from. She’s watching him as his eyelids flutter open, his nose scrunches up, as he stretches his strong arms above his head and groans adorably while looking at her through squinted eyes. 

“You been awake long?” he asks her, and she shakes her head no. 

He’d spooned her last night, she remembers, they both needed that closeness without crossing too many lines, and already she’s feeling withdrawals, missing having his body heat along her back. It isn’t awkward now, but the tension can definitely be felt in the air.

“Good. When do you need to get back to New York?”

She thinks about it for a minute, heart beating fast. Is he asking to be polite or is he asking so they can make plans to see each other? She hopes to God it’s the latter.

“On Wednesday. I made plans with some friends to hang out while I’m still here.”

He hums, scratches the back of his shoulder. 

“Wanna give me your number? I’d quite like to see you again.”

Trying hard to keep her screaming internal, she reaches over to the bedside table and hands him her phone, watching as his nimble fingers type in his digits before pressing the call button. 

“Think my phone’s dead but the call should’ve gone through. Now we can text each other.”

She smiles warmly. “I’d like that.” 

They don’t keep their eyes off each other as they get dressed, him slipping into last night’s clothes and her into some fresh ones, and she can feel the want for him pool deep in her stomach, bitter at everything they didn’t get to experience yesterday, glad about what they did get to do.

“Hey, just one second, (Y/N),” he stops her as she’s about to leave the room and she turns, looks up at him when he steps close. “I’m gonna take the advice you gave me yesterday, but I don’t want you to feel like you’re a second option, a rebound, anything like that. I enjoyed yesterday immensely.” 

Her heart flutters at his consideration, but she only smiles and puts a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin softly. 

“I’m not here to make your life more complicated than it needs to be, Nicholas,” she assures and means it. “I enjoyed it too, and I’d love to see you again if possible. If not, then no hard feelings. We can be honest with each other. Friends get to do that, no?”

His nod is slow, the relief basically radiating off of him as he grabs her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles before opening the door for her, following her out.

Nicholas doesn’t stay for breakfast, but he kisses Cooper’s cheek and thanks him, hugs her with a quiet promise to text her, and soon enough she’s perched on a bar stool at Cooper’s kitchen island, spooning cereal into her mouth and doing her best to dodge his suspicious looks.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says through a mouthful.

“Not looking at you like anything.” 

She levels him with a look, unimpressed.

“Ask what you want to ask or shut up entirely, Coop.” 

A slow smile spreads across his face, seemingly shy but his blazing eyes betray him as he asks, “Did you fuck him?”

She expected this, so she answers calmly. 

“No.”

“Did you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

The question makes her stop for a moment, unsure how much she’s allowed to say.

“I think you know why. Are you mad?” 

He rolls his eyes, takes her hand in his.

“No, of course not. I’d be happy for both of you. But I know that you’re both,” he shoots her a meaningful look that she expertly ignores, “in a rough place in life right now, and I’d hate to see you take it out on each other.” 

She nods, understanding where he’s coming from.

“Is Nick going to get the same speech?” she asks, only half joking.

“A much stricter one, I can tell ya that!” 

She laughs as she gets up along with him to clean the mess from their breakfast up before she goes to meet with her aforementioned friends, heart fluttering the entire time at the prospect of Nick messaging her. 

*** 

She’s sitting in the park and sipping on her smoothie when she feels her phone vibrate in her pocket. Tuning out her friends’ laughter for a minute, she takes it out to see that it’s from Nick, making excitement bubble up in her chest. She opens it immediately, not expecting anything, when suddenly the words make her want to choke on her own spit.

not to be too forward but I just made myself come to the thought of how tight your throat would be around me. I’ll be thinking about that for a long while.

Two seconds later:

hope you’re having a wonderful day. 

Trying not to seem like the mess he’s turned her into within seconds, she does her best to fight off the mental image his message is creating in her mind and reply somewhat coherently. 

You’re a fucking dickhead, do you know that? I’m out and about and now I’m dripping. Thanks for nothing.

His reply doesn’t take long, has her taste blood from where she’s gnawing her bottom lip open. 

that’s how I want you baby, all the time. see you soon. 

She’s distracted for the rest of the day but when her friends ask her about it, she chalks it up to her stressful college courses and tight deadlines. Despite the butterflies dancing in her belly, she’s had a nice time, and when she walks into Cooper’s house later, she’s got a beaming smile on her face. 

“Honey, I’m home!” she shouts, taking off her shoes and hanging up her handbag by the door. 

“Honeys, please!” comes Stuart’s voice from the living room and she grins as she walks in, presses a kiss to the tops of their heads. 

“Missed ya at the party yesterday,” she says and plops down on the loveseat across from where they’re cuddled up on the couch. 

Friends is on. She hates that show.

“Yeah, I was sad I couldn’t make it, but Cooper is throwing a pool party tomorrow, so I’ll still get some fun in.” 

She’s surprised at hearing about yet another event, but she’s not complaining. 

“And drinks,” Cooper reminds him helpfully. “Lots of drinks as well.” 

They chat a little, watch a small part of some movie that’s on when Stuart switches the channel, stay up until it’s hard for her to suppress the yawning. Bidding them goodnight, she stands up to go into the guest room when Cooper calls out her name.

“He’ll be there tomorrow,” he lets her know, a kind little smile on his face, and she nods gratefully before ascending the stairs, ready for sleep.

The next morning, she doesn’t overthink it, mainly because she refuses to give up so much power so soon.

It’s just her usual routine; the shaving, the skincare, the comfy bikini, a midi dress over it. No make-up, just her necklace, she refuses to get dolled up for a pool party. From what she knows, it’ll be a much smaller affair than Friday’s party was, and she’s looking forward to it.

“I’ll handle the BBQ, could you just make the salad dressing and carry these out to the patio, (Y/N)?” Cooper asks her, and she obliges gladly.  

They set everything up rather quickly, the guests start arriving soon, and she tries her hardest not to stop in her tracks when she sees Nicholas walk out through the glass doors of the living room, hugging everyone he knows before he spots her. The way he rakes his eyes over her body before settling on her face makes heat creep up her neck, and she knows that it’s got nothing to do with today’s temperature. 

“Hey, stranger,” he greets her, wraps his arms around her to give her a good squeeze.

“Hey, you,” she smiles, inhales his fresh scent, enjoys having him in her arms again. “How have you been?” 

The breath he exhales as he pulls away is deep, it lets her know that things have gone down, but the private smile he gives her makes the oncoming worry in her mind disappear. 

“I’ve been alright so far, I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

She nods, cheeks warming. “Okay. Come find me.”

She allows herself to be open, truthful in her wants, and he chuckles at that, squeezes her shoulder.

“Always.” 

They don’t sit next to each other during lunch, but they keep glancing over the table and finding each other’s eyes, and every single time it happens, it makes the heat coil tighter in her stomach. He looks fucking good today, ruffled hair and a loose button-down that he keeps open, muscular chest flashing at every turn. At some point he puts his sunglasses on and turns his head straight in her direction, but she can’t tell if she’s being stared at or not, faltering during the conversation she’s trying to have with one of the girls at the party. 

When they’re all full and satiated, they go and find their own things to do: some go to swim a few laps or just cool off in the pool, some go to lounge by the grass and read, some stay at the table and keep drinking and chatting. She decides to walk over to the big tree at the back of the garden, finding a comfortable spot on the outdoor sofa under it and laying down, head comfortably resting on a small pillow. It’s not like she’s hoping he’ll find her there; she knows he is going to come and join her eventually. She just needs a little breather yet again, getting easily overwhelmed in big groups of people.

“And here you are, sneaking off again,” she hears his voice after Lord knows how much time has passed, and she can’t help the slow smile that spreads across her face. 

“My social battery empties quickly,” she starts to explain as she watches him sit down at the end of the outdoor couch, but what she doesn’t expect is for him to grab her legs and drape them over his lap, rubbing up and down one foot lightly.

“D’you mind?” he asks, eyebrow raised. 

“No, ‘s comfortable.” 

They sit in silence like that for a little, just looking at each other, and she can feel a lump grow in her throat. Never has she wanted somebody as badly as him, and the restraint she has to show is otherworldly at this point. 

“What happened, Nicholas?” she dives straight in, direct as always, watches him exhale deeply.

“Well,” he laughs, no humor behind it. “I had that conversation with her yesterday.” 

“Yeah? How’d it go?” she asks, heart in her throat. 

She thinks back on what he told her, that he’s scared to give in to his ex, that he might let her convince him to try one more time, one more moment, one more fuck, and she feels pathetic for how scared she is that he’ll tell her that this is it, it’s over between them before it even started. 

“She took it well. I hate hurting her, I really struggled, but she… she didn’t put up a fight,” he explains, and a wave of relief mixed with guilt washes over her, has her breathe easier. “She knows, I think. We both do.” 

“You still love her, though, don’t you?” she presses, winces when he grabs her foot and digs in, massages at a sore spot.

His smirk tells her he isn’t sorry.

“Yeah, I do. But she isn’t mine to have anymore, and I am so okay with that.” 

“Do you feel bad about Friday night?”

He scoffs, pulls her foot up to his mouth and presses a kiss against it, has her gut clenching from the motion, so intimate, so familiar. 

“There’s nothing I’ve felt better about in a while, I’ll be honest.” 

She nods, at a loss for words. Wanting to jump him right here, but cautious considering their surroundings. Wanting to have him but wanting to keep building the tension to see what happens when he snaps. 

It’s hard having a filter in his presence, so she blurts out, “How many more times have you thought about me having you down my throat since you texted me yesterday?” 

“Jesus Christ,” Nicholas chokes and throws his head back, eyes shut as if it’s hurting him to think about it.

“I need to know, Nick.” 

“Last night again… then this morning, as I was getting ready to come here.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Last night before or after you went to see her?” 

His brown eyes are wide when she looks into them, they’re honest and sincere, which is why it hits so much harder when he tells her, “Both.”

“Fuck,” she breathes, sits up and pulls her legs to her chest, needing to collect herself. “You’re a bastard, Nicholas.” 

“I can’t help it,” he smirks, reaches out to lay a hand on her knee but not moving closer. “What about you? Did you have to help yourself out at all?”

She nods dumbly, unable to look away from his face.

“Last night, as well. Three times. I couldn’t sleep without it.” 

A bite to his lips tells her he’s imagining it, thinking about it.

“Did you give yourself any fingers? Or did you only play with your clit?”

“M-my clit, didn’t put anything inside of me.” 

She feels the increase of her pulse, feels the tingle in her core at the way he looks at her, devours her with his gaze.

“Why not, little girl?”

“I want the next thing to fill me to be you, Nicholas,” she confesses, lays herself bare and relishes in the devastation her words cause him, the way his jaw drops, his brows raise. 

It’s safe, she reminds herself, he’s safe. She can be vulnerable with him, can let him throw her against the wall and trust that he’ll pick up the shattered pieces to put her back together. 

“You’re killing me, do you know that? The things I wanna do to you…” he trails off, stares into the distance for a moment. “I’ve never wanted to do them to another person. I don’t even fucking know you.”

“No, but you see me. And I don’t need to know what those things are, Nicholas. I feel them. And I want them, too.” 

A harsh puff of air leaves his nose before he’s leaning back, gazing at her, face resolute.

“Go to the room upstairs and wait for me there, will you?” 

She nods, mind and heart racing, does as she’s told as she gets up on shaky legs, knees nearly buckling. Making sure her walk isn’t too fast as not to rouse suspicion but fast enough to show him that she wants this, so he can see- and he certainly is watching her ass as she’s leaving- that she’s on board with what he’s trying to do.

She meant what she said: she doesn’t need to know, she feels it. 

Arriving in the guest room, she doesn’t know what to do with herself, nerves getting the best of her and leaving her nearly dizzy. She splashes some cold water on her face before cupping her hands and letting the water from the tap fill them, bringing them to her mouth and swallowing mouthfuls before she turns it off. The image that greets her in the mirror is one she hasn’t seen often: a woman delirious with lust, eyes glazed over and cheeks blotchy. 

A sound from the outside makes her dry her face off quickly before stepping out, seeing Nicholas shut and lock the door, eyes dark.

They say nothing as he stands across from her and puts a hand on her cheek, runs his thumb across her lips, smiles when she takes the very tip of it between her teeth and bites down gently.

“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” he asks, and she nods as he pushes his finger deeper into her mouth, presses down on her tongue and leaves it there. Her hands find his torso, his chiseled muscles to hold on to lest she loses balance, and she sucks his digit into her mouth deeply, hollows her cheeks as they keep staring at each other. “You’re a good cocksucker as well, though, hm?”

She shrugs cheekily, smiles around his finger when he chuckles. She pulls away, then, kisses the tip of his thumb. 

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?” 

The way he rolls his eyes playfully is so sexy, takes away some of the suffocating seriousness that has crept into their dynamic without breaking the tension, without diminishing the spark they have. 

Large palms frame her face as he looks at her deeply, anticipation forcing her mouth to open in a gasp, and that’s when he takes his chance, claims her mouth in a kiss so sensual that it has her moaning into his lips. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find hers and he licks at her muscle, lets her in and deepens the kiss, makes it dirty but so full of lust and devotion that she can’t help but stand on her tippy toes to chase after that sensation. 

His hand finds her throat, grips it lightly yet makes her feel breathless, a dirty chuckle against her lips breaking their moment.

“You’ll let me in there, won’t you, baby?” he rasps, drives his finger down the front of her throat. “All the way inside?” 

She nods, stupid with want. “Yes, please let me. I need to taste you, Nicholas, fuck.” 

He kisses her again, then, toying with her mouth as his hands unzip her dress, pull it off her body, leaving her in only her bikini.

“Kneel in front of the bed, with your back facing it,” he instructs, burying his head in her neck and nibbling lightly, grinning at her gasp.

She does as she’s told, has little control over it, kneels obediently and looks up at him with a wet pout on her lips. Remembering what he told her last time, that no woman could ever take his cock down here throat, believing him. Despite its length, what probably causes trouble is the veiny thickness of it, the very thing that makes cunts drip for him being the reason for locked jaws and hurting lips.

The walk over to her is deliberately slow, he’s letting her stew in her desire for him, but she can’t even complain, not when she gets to observe even his most miniscule movements uninterrupted. The first thing she does when he’s right there is fall forward and bury her face in his crotch, over the material of his linen shorts, inhaling deeply. His clothes smell clean but there’s a musky undertone, something so distinctly man that it has her mouth watering.

“Shhh, there you go, get your fill,” he whispers, drives his hands through her hair and she’s so grateful he’s letting her express her desperation how she needs to. 

The balance of her body barely allows her to get up on her knees, but she manages, presses open mouthed kisses along his torso, as far up as she can reach. She licks into his navel, kisses down his happy trail, moans as she traces her tongue along the waistband of his briefs.

“Fuck, I’m so hungry for it,” she breathes, “please give it to me, I need it so bad.” 

Nicholas chuckles, a sound that hits her right in the chest, and untangles the strings of his pants. She’s glad he’s decided to take his shorts off completely, wrapping her hands around his thighs as soon as he’s stepped out of them and mouthing at his hard cock through his briefs, tongue tasting a salty wet spot and groaning into it.

“Jesus, (Y/N), you’re like a woman possessed,” he growls, all pride and no disgust, and it spurs her on to reach up and pull his cock out, get his underwear out of the way so she can really revel in everything his manhood has to give.

He discards his shirt as well, then, and there he is: her personal Greek God in all his glory, naked flesh for her to devour. 

A tear makes its way down her cheek and she’s done with waiting, needs for him to own her. 

“Please,” she breathes and smiles wickedly as he grabs his cock, pumps it once, twice before holding it by the base and- 

And slapping it across her face, the hit harder than she anticipated, making her cry out with nasty hunger.

“Again,” she begs, and he obeys with a wide-eyed stare, slaps her one more time, two more times before hooking his thumb in her mouth and pulling it open, praising her when she automatically sticks her tongue out.

Nick traces the leaking head of his cock over her tongue, and she could cry when the salt hits her tastebuds, the warmth of his flesh mixing with the wetness on her muscle.

“This is what you were made for, baby,” he says, praises her, talks as if he’s far away. “You’re so fucking beautiful, just waiting for me to ruin you, huh?” She nods her head before shaking it, making sure his precome coats all of her tongue, moans when he orders, “Suck this cock, sweetheart.” 

Not needing to be told twice, she engulfs the thick tip in her mouth, sucks on it as she moves her tongue down to coat his length in spit, to ease the way, to make it easier for him to claim the depths of her throat.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he curses above her, hands not ceasing their movement in her hair, and she sees it as motivation to keep going. The louder he is, the louder she wants him.

Some men like a mix between a willing mouth and two skilled hands, she knows, but today she wants to show him just how hungry she’s been for his cock since she met him, so she works her lips around him, determined to not need her hands for this. She sinks deeper and deeper, lets the accumulated spit from her mouth coat him, doesn’t mind the strings of it escaping and dripping down her chin, makes sure she keeps her eyes wide and on him as he’s struggling not to squeeze his shut.

“Halfway there, baby, you’re so fucking good f’me,” he moans, “Messy little girl, just like that.”

She lays her tongue out and takes a deep breath before pushing down stubbornly, eyes screwing up as he goes deeper and deeper, watching his slack jaw and wide eyes marveling at something he’s always wished to experience but never could, not with the women he’d been with before. Relaxing her throat and feeling him push through that last bit of resistance as she fights against her gag reflex, fights to keep it deep within her chest, fights through the pain it brings her not to openly cough at the intrusion in her body. She can’t stand it, not for long, and she has to pull away with a chest-wracking cough, trying to collect herself but delirious with the need to prove her devotion to him.

“Baby, that was amazing, just-“

“Fuck my throat, Nicholas,” she rasps through the tears, gets in position again and takes his cock in hand this time, jerks him a little until she gets herself under control again.

“(Y/N), are you sure? Once I start, I won’t be stopping until you give me a signal, no matter how much you cry, okay?”

Jesus Christ. She nods, determined. 

“I’ll tap your thigh twice if I need you to really stop, okay?” 

He bends down and kisses her deeply, wipes at the tears on her cheeks.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers before straightening back up, gripping her by the hair and growling, “now open that fuckin’ throat for me.”

It’s animalistic, the way he takes her mouth, pushes his cock deep and keeps snapping his hips up, moaning loudly as she chokes, as she holds onto her own thighs just to have something to grip while he uses her. Inch by inch he fucks himself deep, groans her name, “My good girl, that’s right, show ‘em how it’s done,” knowing exactly how to spur her on, how to give her the strength to fight through her body’s struggles.

She’s gargling out spit, face wet and messy, when he finally, fucking finally manages to bottom out, bury her nose in his trimmed pubic hair, almost doubling over when she then sticks her tongue out until the back of her throat starts burning to lap at his balls with the tip of it, just to show him that there’s nothing stopping her from satisfying the hunger she has for him. 

“Ho- oh my fucking- ugh,” he moans, the tightness of her sending him into overdrive, the way her choking and swallowing around his cock stimulates his sensitive head making tears spring to his eyes. 

He grabs her by the hair and rips her back roughly, letting her breathe heavy for a minute before diving down to claim her lips in a bruising kiss, in awe at this woman kneeling in front of him.

“Fuck, that felt good,” she laughs manically against his mouth, tears and snot dripping from her face, but they don’t care, they’re reveling in the way they can mess each other up.

“You okay, baby? Your voice is fucked,” he smiles as she nods eagerly, clearing her throat.

“More, please, fuck my face just a little more,” she begs, watching his eyes widen at her request, but she doesn’t care. Now that she’s gotten a taste, she wants more. 

One hand in her hair and the other one on her jaw, he pushes between her lips again, keeps pushing until he’s in all the way and pulls her off again, watching her splutter and cough for a second before reeling her in again. Nicholas seems to enjoy that, watching her struggle with her throat full, struggle to catch her breath after, but whenever her eyes meet his in a silent plea, she sees the fire in his gaze burn that much brighter before he goes in to fuck her face again.

“No more,” he pants, grabs her by the arms and pulls her into a standing position, steadying her as her legs give out from having knelt for so long. “Fuck, I almost came down your throat.”

“Why didn’t you?” she pouts, face a total mess but causing him to smile at her warmly regardless.

“Don’ wanna, wanna shoot my load inside of you,” he mutters, makes her cheeks heat up.

“Next time, though?”

He laughs, kisses her swollen mouth.

“Promise, baby.”

Nick makes quick work of her bikini and gets her naked and sprawled across the bed in record time, writhing under his heated gaze as he just stands here, cock hard and dripping with her spit, watching her.

“Spread your legs for me,” he instructs, eyes raking over her form, and with a shy bite to her lip she obliges, parts her legs and lets him look at where she’s sloppy wet for him. 

“Need you so bad, I’m all swollen,” she whines, watches as he positions himself between her legs, kisses along her stomach up to her tits.

The first nipple he takes into his hot mouth gets a quick bite shortly after, making her hiss, before he moves over to the second, giving it attention while she rakes her hands through his hair, lost in sensation.

It’s all she’s ever wanted and more, the fucked-out state of arousal that has her mind feeling honey sticky and slow, completely out of her own body. She focuses on his weight on top of her, the way his spit on her nipples paired with the cool air in the room gives her gooseflesh, and soon enough she’s whimpering as he trails his kisses in the direction of her center.

“Finally getting a taste of this gorgeous cunt, been thinking about it,” he murmurs against her mound, looks right at her as he says, “Gonna kiss you where I’m gonna fuck you, my sweet,” before he dives right in, licks her in broad stripes and has her throwing her head back in ecstasy.

All the blood rushes to her center and despite not even having been touched properly, the tension burns, makes her clit tingle where it’s being loved on by his clever tongue, and she can’t help but bury her hands in his hair and push her hips up into his awaiting mouth. Nicholas eats pussy like it’s the most decadent thing he’s ever had, like it melts on his tongue, the way he pushes between her inner lips and slurps at the very source of her arousal. By now he knows how much she loves the attention on her little nub, so he sucks it into his mouth, taps his tongue against it until she’s arching off the bed, only being held down by his bulging arms. 

“N-Nick, fuck, fuck no-,“ she’s trying to push him off, the buildup of her climax making every limb tingle, but he holds on, holds her steady until she’s crying, begging, “please, let me come for you, please, please, pl- fuck-“

A hum of confirmation, the vibration of it hitting her core, is all it takes before she’s coming hard, pulling his head closer and trying to bat him away at the same time, and the minute her high decreases and her muscles relax he’s on her, kissing her lax mouth, pushing his tongue deep and letting her taste her pussy on his sinful lips. 

“Y’taste sweeter than I could’ve imagined,” he’s breathing hard against her mouth, “sweetest pussy just for me to take, ain’t it? Fuck, I need to be inside of you.”

The “Please,” punches out of her, already wrapping her legs around his torso so he’d slip in easier, giving him all the access and shouting into his shoulder as he slides his cock into her in one go, fills her up until she can feel him in her lungs. She pushes at his chest so he’d pull away, look at her, grabs him by the face and hisses “What the fuck are you, who the fuck- what are you doing t- to me?”

Nicholas’ laugh is amazed, top lip curled over his perfect teeth as he focuses on drilling into her hard, watching her lose her mind under him, watching her give herself over to him without a care in the world. He angles his hips just so, pelvic bone brushing against her clit with every thrust, making her see stars.

“You’ll come for me like this,” he promises, voice shot, “you’re so gorgeous, fuck. Look at you, can’t believe you’ll come for me again, I’ve got you-“

“Nick, please,” she cries, terrified of what her mind is making her body do, “I can’t-“

“You can and you will,” he snaps, grabs her by the face and pulls her close, kisses her pouting mouth. “Come for me, (Y/N), I wanna see you lose it.” 

She doesn’t pass out this time but she kind of wishes she did, because the groans and moans and pathetic whimpers that rip out of deep within her are sounds she’s never going to unhear now. If it were with anyone else, she’d be mortified, but he just talks her through it with pride in his voice as if she were his girl, his to coach and use and fuck and lo-

But isn’t she? She sure feels like it. 

“Atta fuckin’ girl, that’s right, oh I’m gonna come, baby-“

“Fill me up,” she whispers, lax now, letting herself be used and moved like a rag doll, “I wanna feel you dripping out of my pussy for days.”

“Oh shit, (Y/N)-“ and that does it for him, apparently, as he pushes in impossibly deep and spills inside of her, moaning into her neck and holding her close, filling her body and mind and heart, and dear God, she’s a fucking goner. 

The room smells like their sex, like musk, heady and dazed, makes her head spin where she’s laying under him and wondering what the actual fuck just happened. Nicholas’ breathing is labored but he’s still pressing lazy kisses against her temple, arms still around her spent body.

After a moment, he peers down at her. 

“You okay, baby?” he whispers, like the atmosphere is something fragile.

She doesn’t trust her voice, so she just nods.

“Was it too much? Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head no.

He chuckles deeply, leans down to kiss her mouth and she can’t do much more than to let herself be kissed, can’t reciprocate.

“Talk to me, love, c’mon,” he requests gently, and when she hears that little nickname, hears the care in his voice, her lip starts wobbling and her tears start running freely down her cheeks. “Oh, baby,” he soothes, lets her cry in his arms, holds her through it.

She’s heard of people crying after sex, especially after intense sex, but it has never happened to her. Laying here, though, on these ruined sheets, face and body and her fucking insides sticky with him, after having been used so mercilessly and still having him hold her like she’s something precious, talk to her like she’s something to be cherished? She can’t take it, the turmoil of the last few days, the last few weeks, paired with the experience of his mere existence sending her into overdrive. 

“Let it out, I’m here f’you,” he whispers, shushes her, kisses her head, and soon enough she runs out of tears, only sniffles where she’s hiding in his neck. 

Nicholas pulls away, props himself up on one elbow as his other hand keeps stroking her hair, her face, anything he can reach. He’s got a small smile playing on his full lips as he looks at her, and she smiles back, exhausted but satiated.

“’m sorry for this,” she croaks, voice barely there.

Before she can say anything else, he interrupts her, shushes her with his thumb on her lips. “Please don’t,” he says, eyes kind, “I’m so honored that you trust me enough to fall apart like this. Seriously, (Y/N), this is not a small deal.” 

She clicks her tongue, eyes welling up with tears again.

“I know,” she whimpers, takes his hand in hers and kisses it. “I know it isn’t, and I don’t know what the fuck to do with this. I- Nicholas… What the fuck?” 

He brings her to his chest, holds her close, kisses the crown of her head.

“None of that now, baby,” he whispers, “Now I gotta give you some good aftercare and then we’ll clean up, okay? We can talk later, when we’re both in our right minds. That sound good?”

She nods, says, “I don’t wanna go back to the party,” but it’s muffled against his full chest. 

He hears her anyways.

“We don’t have to; we’ll just stay here." 

Cleaning up is a quiet affair, they keep each other close at all times, standing under the shower together and just washing each other, hands trailing across the other with no intent to take it further. It’s intimate, it’s connecting, and it’s exactly what she needs to come down from the rollercoaster he’s put her through. Nicholas rummages through the closets on that floor until he finds clean sheets and changes them while she stands next to the bed, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, watching with a small smile as he wrestles with the fitted sheet.

“Too many workouts today,” he grumbles as he pulls it over the corners of the bed, “I haven’t consumed enough calories today for this level of exercise.” 

She giggles at his silliness before she lets herself fall onto the bed, holding her arms open for him to crawl in, settling his head on her boobs.

“Naked cuddling is my favorite,” she whispers to him conspiratorially and he nods eagerly, agreeing.

“Same, don’t nearly do it often enough.”

She’s ready for a nap, she realizes as she lets her eyes fall shut, and soon enough she’s slipping away softly, clutching him tightly.  

Unsure if she's dreaming or not, she hears a soft, "I've got you, my sweet. Always got you."

[pullupinarari]

The Secret of Us [LH]

II. The Flame of Us

summary: a 5 chapter miniseries in which Lewis chooses you to coordinate one of his new projects, but the instant spark flicking between the two of you makes the professional lines grow a little blurry. do the both of you feel the same?

author’s note: the very much awaited chapter two is finally here! i'm not allowed to have any more horny hours after this one istg 😭 thank you girls for all the support you showed me on the first chapter of this plot that I love so much! hope you enjoy this 🩷

warnings: yall this is a big ass smut with very little plot ngl 😭 MINORS DNI!! p in v, protected AND unprotected sex cause i'm crazy, some hair pulling and a lot of filthiness. let me know if i'm missing something!

• masterlist

wc: 10 171 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

After Lewis’ invitation, you are left confused, divided between a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, your hands softly trembling as your brain tries to process his words. 

Standing in the middle of your office, with your desk working as a wall between your bodies, your eyes are connected to his, while you’re both trying to read each other. 

Lewis’ hand is tightening around the arm rest of your chair, an attempt to hold himself up so his knees won’t buckle at the suspense you’re creating, the silence diving in between your bodies being enough for his blood to rush with anxiety. 

Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me here like this. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I need an answer. 

It’s like the four walls surrounding you are getting smaller and tighter as the minutes go by, making it harder for you to breathe while you continue thinking about his offer. A dinner out, with your company’s most important client, behind your boss’ back? It seems like the perfect plan to get you fired, honestly - and you’re not in the mood to lose your job, right now. 

Your brain keeps telling you to decline his invitation, to please say no, for yours and everyone else’s sake. Don’t create a problem where everything is peaceful and nice. You like your job, your boss isn’t that bad, you have a good position at the company, and if nothing is going wrong, why would you actively try to find a fire to burn yourself in? 

On the other hand, your heart - that stubborn little organ that always likes to play hard to get, but that somehow, has softened up so much at the sight of Lewis and the little moments you’ve shared - it’s the responsible one for all the doubts clouding in your mind, for the warmth erupting through your chest every time his name pops on your phone screen. And it’s the one telling you to accept it, to have dinner with the man in front of you, to enjoy some more alone time with him out of the cage that your office currently represents when you’re together. 

Each emotion has a different weight on your shoulders, making you feel almost incapable of making a decision. You have given your all to this company, during the years that you’ve been working here - you have worked many extra hours, more than you were supposed to, even taking a series of work projects home, to finish in the middle of the night, losing all sleep so you could change projects overnight, just because the clients decided so. 

And still, having met so many different people, no one has ever made you feel the way that Lewis does. No matter how wrong this might look, it definitely doesn’t feel wrong inside of you whenever he gets close to you, whenever you hug, when he leans over your chair so you can notice his perfume. And maybe you need to put yourself first for once, instead of continuously giving your all to your work and career. Where does your love life stand in the middle of all this, in the end?

Taking a deep breath, you finally decide to break the uncomfortable silence that felt enough to drown your bodies. 

Fuck it. He’s right, it’s been time already. Give yourself a try, Y/N. - you think to yourself.

- I guess you win, Lewis. And I really do like Italian food. - a smile is attached to your words, feeling the weight of your choice already, scared of what can happen, but still confident about your decision. 

Suddenly, the world stopped for Lewis, feeling that the most subtle glimpse of happiness has spread across his entire body, lifting away all the worries and anxious thoughts that were consuming him lately.

You said yes. You accepted his invitation, he is officially going to take you on a date. The man can’t even believe the words that just left your mouth, letting the widest of smiles finally show up in his face, as he leaves his place from behind your desk, walking over to meet your figure again. 

- Are you being serious? - he whispers, almost afraid of breaking the bright bubble that you got him into, right now. His fingers are careful when reaching for your face, gently caressing your cheek, making you blush while you nod your head ‘yes’ at him.  - Yeah? - he confirms again, earning another nod from you, laced with a loving giggle escaping your lips as he keeps insisting.

- Italian it is, then. Saturday night? I’ll pick you up - Lewis tells you, his chocolate eyes melting into yours as he continuously gets lost in them, leaving him to fight the urge to taste your lips while he’s still caressing your skin.  - I guess we got ourselves a deal, Hamilton - you smile at him, defying the tone by calling him by his last name instead of the first, as you usually did. And somehow, the way you refer to him always makes his eyes darken a little more, his heart feeling hot in his chest, making him gulp, desperate to restrain himself from showing you how badly he wants you. 

Instead, he just nods at you, with a different sparkle covering his eyes now, a fulfilled smile on the man’s features - already wishing for time to pass by faster, eager to see you outside the four walls of your office. 

Inside of your minds, it feels like Saturday takes a while to arrive. Both yearning for the day to finally be here so you could go out together, getting to know the versions of the other that are forced to be kept away when you’re surrounded by a professional environment. 

The weekend finally comes, and while some shy rays of sun are trying to wake you up, the ping on your phone, indicating that you just received a new message, it’s what really pulls you out of your slumber. 

Lewis’ name pops on the screen, and there’s a tingling feeling growing in your belly already, a blush spreading on your cheeks, as if it’s the first time that he texts you. 

‘Good morning, Y/N. I know we’re out of office hours, but I had to email you some important info from the suppliers, about the new pieces we were planning on doing. Please take a look if you can. By the way, wear something fancy tonight. I can’t wait to see you - I already know you’ll look stunning.’ - the text reads, and it amazes you how this man has the ability to make your face burn, stealing a giggle from you even with just a message. 

Sighing softly, you reply back with a simple ‘got it. I’ll check the email asap’ - ignoring his compliment, not wanting to give into his ego that much already. Working on some tasks you had to get done for work, time passed by a little faster, until it’s almost time to get ready for your date with Lewis. 

It’s almost impossible not to feel nervous, and that goes to the both of you. While your heart is racing in your chest, your hands softly trembling when you zip the dress you had chosen for tonight, Lewis is still diving inside his closet. The man who is constantly seen in public events, always causing different reactions with his outfits, is now feeling the pressure to look his absolute best, just for your eyes to see - the most important ones for him.

At 8 pm sharp, your doorbell rings - just as you had agreed. Applying some perfume, you gather your jacket and purse, taking a deep breath before opening the front door of your house. 

Once you do, your eyes fall on Lewis - sharing an anxious smile with you, while slowly eyeing your figure from top to bottom, his gaze burning you already, as he needs to refrain from biting his lip at the sight in front of him. 

If he could have it his way, he would forget all about the dinner reservation that he prepared for the two of you, dying to just dive into your lips, tasting your flavour, finally allowing his hands to freely roam through your silhouette. 

But tonight is about more than just that, it’s about the opportunity to get to know more of you, the secret sides of your personality that you can’t show him during office hours, so the man forces himself to take a deep breath, regaining his senses and trying not to drool at the sight of you - something that he has been forced to do in every single meeting with you, as well. 

- Absolutely stunning, as always, Miss Y/N - the man finally speaks, reaching for your hand to kiss your knuckles like a true gentleman. 

His silliness always makes a smile appear in your features, mentally cursing yourself as you feel your cheeks growing red already. Oh boy, you already know this is going to be a long night. 

- You don’t look too bad yourself, Sir Hamilton - there you go again, playing with his mind with the damn ‘Sir’ title, that always seems to fall from your lips in the most sultry way that Lewis has ever heard.

Both of your insides are already catching fire just at the strong presence of your auras colliding, trying to meet once and for all, only to be interrupted by your will to keep your composures, not letting the little devils on your shoulders to win just yet. 

Opening his arm just a little so you can intertwine your arm with his, the man shows you a wink.

- Ready to go? The restaurant awaits for your gracious presence - both of you laugh in unison at Lewis’ words, who’s slowly feeling some of the anxiety leaving his body for good, growing confident and comfortable the more he makes you laugh with his jokes. 

You knew that the man would bring his up game tonight, but you never expected to have an entire balcony just for yourselves, allowing your eyes to admire the best view of the entire city, while having dinner at one of the most prestigious Italian restaurants in London. 

Your job allows you to live a comfortable life, to travel around the world, to eat at some of the best restaurants there are, but that’s not the most important part of life for you. And tonight, it’s like you don’t even know how to act. 

Sitting at your table, you look around, noticing every detail of your surroundings. The small, romantic candles that are strategically positioned on the table and throughout the entire space you’re staying in.

Lewis sees your eyes wandering around the balcony, admiring the place he booked for the two of you. However, he feels like he’s losing you, craving your attention already, wanting to feel your eyes on him again. So, his fingers gently travel through the table, meeting yours in a soft, deliberate movement. 

Grounding you for a second, bringing you back to reality, to the person in front of you, he finally catches your gaze, giving you a soft smile as his fingers keep touching yours, a small gesture that you are soon to reciprocate, feeling how warm his skin feels when compared to yours, how the night seems to grow quiet while you’re focused in the other’s touch. 

- Hey, you - Lewis says, his tone low and soft, almost slow, as if his brain is trying to decipher the best way to kick off this evening.  - Hey - you giggle softly, feeling shy when compared to the magnitude of the space surrounding you. - There was no need for all this, Lewis. I would’ve been just as happy to have McDonald’s inside your car, parked somewhere where we could see the sunset. - you say, truthfully, feeling slightly out of place at all the fanciness surrounding you. 

You are a simple girl, above all. And Lewis knows it. Throughout these last weeks, he learned how you don’t really care about fame, power, and fancy restaurants. He learned that you would rather have breakfast at your favorite small bakery, next to your house, instead of having a breakfast typical of five star hotels. How the scones he would bring you, would absolutely make your entire day when you were stressed, desperate to go home and find one of your books, cooking your favorite meal just to make you feel a bit more sane. 

He knows that you would be fine with a nice pasta or even just a pizza, better even if you would ask for it in takeaway, eating it with your pajamas on, while watching your favorite show in his company. And that’s one of the infinite things that he loves about you already. But tonight is a special night for the two of you, so he decided to do something different - realizing that you really deserve something as special as you are, in his eyes. 

- I know - he giggles at your idea. - Maybe we can do that on our next date, how about that? 

The tips of your fingers are still intertwining, moving to caress the other’s skin from time to time, even when the waiter puts the dishes in front of you two. It’s a comfortable, small touch, that carries all the meaning of how badly you don’t want to let go of one another. 

- Already thinking about a second date, Hamilton? You don’t even know if you’ll survive this one, yet - you joke, an eyebrow raised at him in a provocative tone, smirking at the way he loses his composure at your wittiness. 

You might be joking, but Lewis knows that you’re right. He feels himself on the verge of losing his sanity just by the way your hands are connected, he needs to force his brain to stay in this moment, and refusing to picture where this night might take you two, feeling like he could run out of air if he gets to feel more than just your hand in his. 

- You’re right, Miss. But I plan on making it out alive, I plan on both of us enjoying tonight as much as possible without killing each other in the process. And maybe we can repeat these sorts of events, no? Amongst other things… - he cracks a bit, feeling his cheeks growing a bit warmer as well, trying to disguise it with a sip on his cup of wine. 

You might repeat it, if tonight feels worth the second part to everything that’s playing in your mind so far. It’s like your fingers are tingling to get Lewis out of the jacket that’s safely covering his tattoos, his toned chest, the strong arms that you just picture wrapped around you, while his plump lips are attached to your neck - making a devilish grin appear in your face the more you pay attention to your thoughts while looking at the man in front of you.

The way you two get along so well, as if you’ve been friends for years, amazes you. How the conversation seems to flow so effortlessly, laughs, giggles and blushing cheeks erupting between your figures, making the night seem warmer, cozier, away from all the pressure that once was felt in the pit of your stomachs.

It’s like the world outside doesn’t exist. As if you don’t have to worry about your work duties, about you and Lewis being business partners, your brain not even thinking about your boss and how he would completely lose his mind if he found out that you and Lewis Hamilton are out on a date, on this Saturday night. Tonight, none of that matters to you.

As time passes by, the touches between your frames start longing for more, the tips of your digits touching, slowly become completely intertwined fingers, trying to feed yourselves off the small crumbs of warmth you can get from the other, when the table insists on distancing your bodies.

Once you two had finished your dishes, Lewis decides to get up, stretching his hand for you to take, carefully welcoming your body closer to his, finally savouring your proximity without a table in between your figures.

There’s not an ounce of shyness pooling in your body anymore, not after feeling so comfortable around the man in front of you - so, you take the first step, gluing your shape to his, until he is wrapping his arms around you, your hands gently caressing his chest through his buttoned up shirt. 

Your eyes don’t leave each other’s features, even with the most breathtaking view of London in front of you - Lewis is everything you want to look at, engraving all his details in you, in the same way he keeps focusing all his attention in you, an enamoured smile splattered all over his face, his hands softly rubbing your back, as if you are the most precious thing he has ever touched. 

- This view is gorgeous - he says, smiling even wider when the sparkle in your gaze matches his.  - It sure is - you agree, making the man lose it a bit more as he feels the intensity growing between your shadows, to the point of becoming absolutely unbearable. 

There they are: the butterflies, flying from your stomach into the air, surrounding you and Lewis, creating an invisible string that just seems to pull your bodies together more and more, as if that was possible - wishing you could melt your skin into his, at this point.

One of the man’s hands leaves your back, finding its place on your cheek, putting a strand of hair behind your ear, giving him more access to your details, carefully touching you, seeing the way you’re suppressing a smile out of embarrassment. 

Burning in desire for each other, you both reach for the other’s lips, almost at the same time, finally giving in to all the building tension on your bodies, that just continued growing for weeks on end. 

With Lewis’ hand safely cupping your face, one of your hands reaches for the man’s neck, both of you holding the other as close as humanly possible, your lips finally savouring each other - getting to taste the sweet cherry that both of you have been craving for so long, dreaming of it to the point of almost driving you insane. 

And now, it’s definitely driving you wild. Your tongues finally meet, clashing together as you explore the other’s mouth, the adventure feeling so new yet so familiar, as if you had known each other’s body for so long, from daydreaming about this moment so much. 

The world completely stopped now. Everything went silent, and it’s just you and Lewis living this fiery moment between your souls, sharing all the emotions and sensations travelling through your bodies with one another. 

Neither of you wants to break the kiss, insisting on remaining connected, even if you’re running out of breath - searching for oxygen in the other, breathing each other’s warmth and passion. 

But once you’re forced to distance your mouths, desperate to catch some air, your lips still long on his skin, caressing his cheek lovingly, as your foreheads remain glued, your noses touching, maintaining the typical eye contact that you two are used to already. 

There’s a moment of silence, but neither of you needs to say anything: your bodies, your connection speaks for yourselves, and the infatuated smiles on both your faces aligns with the soft eyes, caring touches as you try to come even closer to each other, Lewis reaching out to hold you safely in his arms again. 

It definitely doesn’t feel real. After dreaming about it for so many weeks, it finally happened - your lips finally met, in an ardent, burning reunion that held all the desperation travelling between your bodies since the first time you saw each other, after all the times where your mouths threatened to kiss on their own will. 

Lewis is in awe, completely in love with you, without a doubt that you are everything that he wants, everything he needs, giving him all the feelings he wants to keep close to his heart, sensing the way they make his heart beat faster, the type of adrenaline that he only finds when he’s near you. 

Without enough words to describe this moment, the man reaches to catch your lips in his again, giving you another long kiss, showing you how badly he wanted this to happen, how many times he pictured this moment, and how perfect it is in reality, way better than any dream he could have while being alone in between the sheets of his cold bed. 

- Your lips are sweeter than any scone we could have at your office - he jokes, after pecking your lips a few more times. 

This is the type of intimacy that you never had with anyone else in your life - the type of connection that you can feel in your soul, reaching the darkest corners of your insides, not leaving one single part of you unnoticed, seeing you in your entirety. 

Breaking the tension between your bodies, you feel yourself relaxing as you wrap your arms around his neck now, allowing a chuckle to escape your lips as you roll your eyes playfully at his words. 

- You’re such a prick - you complement his inside joke, seeing the way he feels comfortable to laugh out loud now, feeling his shoulders shake under your touch, his giggles being enough to make flowers erupt inside of you, leading to new butterflies to appear.  - Yeah, but you seem to like it quite a lot - he whispers teasingly, capturing your lips in his again, in a sloppy yet hungry kiss, trying his best to hold all the impatience running through him at the anticipation of having more of you. 

But he can only do so much, so Lewis’ hands slowly travel down your waist, testing the waters at the way you react when he reaches for your bum, gently rubbing it while you are one who looks for his mouth now, growing needier for him just as much. He smirks into the kiss, hearing the almost unnoticeable little hums that you let out as his hands continue touching your backside, grabbing your ass hungrily as he deepens the kiss again - showing you how he can’t wait to get out of here. 

However, he still has some remarks to make. Admiring the figure in front of him, his eyes land on the navy blue dress that you carefully choose for tonight, one that hugs your body perfectly, leaving very little to his imagination, but one that desperately leaves him wanting more and more from this date.

- You look divine in this dress, darlin’ - he says sweetly, with a hint of seductiveness in his tone, while his hands are still dedicated to your ass, through the fabric of your outfit. 

You know, that’s why you picked it for this date. You were sure that it would drive Lewis mad, and you can’t control the knowing smirk that shows up on your features when he compliments you. And finally, you decide to play your last card:

- What if I told you that I only chose it so you could take it off? - you seductively whisper in his ear, reaching to bite his ear lobe, chanting victory in your head as you notice the way he physically reacts to your words: gulping, his hands tighten the hold on your bum, unable to hold himself back from landing a cheeky little slap on your left ass cheek, before growing serious and asking you “what are we waiting for, then?”

With fire in your eyes, you leave the restaurant, hand in hand with the man whose perfume keeps igniting a burning desire inside of you, making it almost impossible for you to keep track of everything that’s happening around you.

The atmosphere between you two could set everything ablaze inside the car, as you steal glances at each other’s features, silly smiles showing from time to time, mixed with soft, teasing giggles that can be heard from time to time - while you notice the way Lewis is gripping the steering wheel harder, the more your hand insists on travelling through his leg, your lips ghosting on the skin of his neck, making him desperately loosen up the tie that was keeping his outfit and composure all together.

It feels like the car ride back to his place is taking forever, especially in his mind, having you teasing him during the entire time, exploding with anticipation as he finally gets to park his car inside the garage.

The sync you two share could be felt from miles away, so you are both fast to leave the car, your bodies meeting again as Lewis holds you closer to him one more time, your lips hungry for the other’s, almost as if you can’t breathe without the air he brings to your lungs, anymore. 

When his hand snakes around your neck, bringing your face closer so he can deepen the kiss, it’s like everything else stops, existing in this moment just the two of you, in a deserted world that’s just inhabited by the two hungry souls inside of your bodies. 

Sloppily walking to the door, the man can barely pick the right key, struggling to leave your lips untouched, untasted by his own, longing to be close to you as soon as he needs to break the kiss, even for just a second. 

Closing the door behind you, it’s like both of you can feel the weight of all the invisible ties that were once holding you down, leaving your figures. Finally, in between four safe walls that allow the two of you to do everything you want, without any pressure, masks, disguises, having the freedom to be honest with yourselves, with your dreams, needs and desires. 

With your back pressed against the door, your mouths connect again, the passion emanating from your lips, so strongly that it can be felt through each goosebump showing in your skin, your touch making electricity running in Lewis’ veins.

Growing impatient, the man picks you up, his toned arms holding your shape like it’s nothing, his mouth exploring down the skin of your neck while you’re sighing lightly, biting your own lip when realizing how lucky you got tonight. 

His jacket falls to the floor just before he starts carrying you to his room, your fingers playing with the tie that’s still loosely hanging around his neck, smirking at him, both anticipating the following moments. 

Once your feet feel the floor again, you pull him by the tie, connecting your bodies as your fingers start to untie the buttons of his shirt, reading him between the fire mirroring his gaze on you.

He’s enticed by you, by your touch, by the way you seem to make the most powerful wave crash in his body, soul, while seeming to calm him down at the same time, your soft skin soothing all his nerves, wanting to feel more of you, delving himself in the depths of everything you are, everything that you mean to him. 

Once his upper body is in full display for you, your eyes take a second to admire the sight, your hand shamelessly reaching to feel his muscles, to travel between every crevice of his abs, holding yourself to his biceps as if you are on the verge of losing your balance, due to his presence. 

Reaching for you, his hands land on your hips, taking a moment to appreciate you, your beauty, your intensity, the fact that you are, finally, here with him. The tip of his nose nudges yours gently, making a smile appear in both of your faces, and the sparkle in his eyes is noticeable as he shares a loving gaze with you. 

Connecting your lips once more, he quickly distances your mouth, dedicating himself to the skin of your neck, using all his endless time on you, not wanting to rush this moment, wanting to properly taste you, savour the sweetness of your skin, warming himself through you, sharing the connection that’s bonding you together. 

You lean your head back slowly, silently giving him more access to your skin, humming and whining quietly when he finds your sweet spot - your soft sounds giving him the hint, that he happily takes, committing some more minutes to the places that make your back arch, the warmth of his tongue being enough to make you spiral just by feeling him licking the favourite places of your skin. 

His left hand is carefully cupping your face, moving your neck gently as he switches the places he wants to focus on, while his right one is still safely holding your hip, keeping you in place so he can explore your collarbone, landing open mouth, wet yet soft, sweet kisses everywhere he can reach - your shoulder, the part of your chest that your cleavage allows his lips to reach. 

Your hands softly touch his muscles, noticing how they seem to tense the more he grows desperate to get you out of your dress, ready to destroy the barrier that the fabric keeps representing between your bodies, craving to see you in your entirety, anxious to show you just how badly he wants you, needs you. 

Finally, his hands roam your back, reaching for the zip of your dress, slowly undoing it in a matter of seconds - looking at the excited expression in your face that you can’t seem to hide.

Tonight is all about you, for him. He wants to make the most of it, for both of you, hoping he will be able to show you everything you make him feel, how you hold the power to make his heart pump blood faster into his veins, making him weak at the knees everything your hand touches his.

As his hands slowly slide the dress down your body, his lips follow the movement, landing countless amounts of the softest kisses he possibly can give to the bits of skin that he’s slowly unveiling for his eyes, his fingers feeling every curve of your shape that soon comes into full display for the man. 

You feel the warmth of his mouth in between your breasts, down your stomach, one of your hands reaching for his braids, caressing his scalp as he continues dedicated to your skin, to the point of getting on his knees once the dress completely falls to the floor. 

He looks up at you, his big, chocolate, sweet eyes focused on your face, trading glances as he continues to land kisses on your upper thigh, your hip, his fingers caressing your legs, feeling addicted to how soft you feel to the touch, how your perfume seems to make him feel even more obsessed with you. 

Getting up and undoing his pants, letting them fall to the floor as well, he finally meets your body without barriers, your figures gluing to each other again as soon as your mouths touch again, your hands diving in the other’s shape, discovering every corner of the body that you both have been dreaming about incessantly. 

His touch is absolutely lethal. Neck kisser, hips grabber, travelling through your body with just a one way ticket - not planning on coming back after touching heaven with his bare hands.

No heels, no dress, you’re just in your skin, just like Lewis, having the thin fabric of your underwear separating your cores, but feeling how ready he is for you when he finally lays you on the bed, softly grazing his bulge on your center, groaning in between the fight that your tongues keep enduring - opening your legs wider for the man that’s still trying to refrain from moving too much, wanting to enjoy each second of having you all to himself.

Still, you probably feel even more impatient than him, eager to finally get what you came here for, so your nails softly graze the skin on his back, reaching for the band of his boxers, letting him know how badly you want to feel him.

- Eager, aren’t we? - he jokes lightly, his teeth biting your bottom lip gently, hearing the needy whines erupting from your body as you give him puppy eyes. - As if you don’t want me just as much, Sir - fuck, maybe you should stop playing with his head. But maybe you are way too determined to end this night with a victory, desperate to feel him, all the details of his body, wanting to forget about life and all the problems clouding your mind for a moment, while he is making you moan out of pleasure. 

He chuckles slightly at your provocation, ready to completely lose control, so he can finally show you how you have been playing with fire all this time - more than prepared for his flames to connect with yours, burning you two together as you allow your figures to be consumed by the insatiable blaze of pleasure erupting between you. 

But if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Lewis wants to give you everything you ask him for, willing to run around the entire world to grant all your wishes - just so he can reciprocate the immense feelings and sensations that you create on his body and mind.

And if he was feeling a bit nervous in the early evening, right before dinner, now the heat running through his veins makes him feel like he’s being completely electrified by your silhouette, your gaze, your touch - and oh girl, you have no idea what you’re in for, tonight. 

His hand lazily travels down your body, reaching for your panties, his fingers teasingly playing with the band, while his lips finally wrap around one of your nipples, his tongue caressing it until goosebumps are dressing your skin again. 

Your sounds are soft, sweet - traveling to Lewis’ mind, making him feel even weaker than he already is, wanting nothing more than to continue to listen to your moans and whines throughout the entire night. 

Ignoring the band of your underwear, he decides to give in to your pleas - but just a little bit, as his digits slowly start to rub you through the fabric that’s still covering your core. And still, you feel your entire body being set on fire, by the pressure that he strategically applies when reaching your bundle of nerves, his lips still sucking on your right nipple as if the man’s life depends on it. 

His fingers feel how wet you are by now, how ready you are to take him - all of him, wanting his body to possess yours, to cloud your mind until you even forget about your own name. The thoughts travelling through his mind, mixed with the sensations of your wetness, your fingers slightly pulling on his braids, your whines, begging him to touch you more, to give you more, to finally give his all to you, are enough to drive him absolutely wild. 

  Lewis is naturally a dominant man, so the more you open your legs for him, your own fingers trying to grab the band of your panties, desperate to get rid of them, he is the one holding your wrists gently, taking your breath away with another kiss to your lips - while his hands finally reach for your underwear, ripping the fabric apart so you don’t even have to worry about sliding them down your legs.

His action makes a smirk appear in your face, wrapping your lips around his tongue, sucking it lightly as your hand pulls his face even closer to yours - silently letting him know how you like it rough, how you had waited long enough for this moment, how you’re done with the teasing, your fingers reaching for the shape of his hard dick in his boxers, reminding him how he needs to get rid of those, as well. 

Grunting in your mouth, he gets the hint, using all his strength to abandon your figure on the mattress, feeling his skin growing colder as he finally gets up, moving to grab a condom from the bedside table, sharing a teasing, intense gaze with you as his own underwear leaves his body, now. 

His dick looks painfully hard, making drool form in your mouth at the sight, seeing how his hand safely wraps around his member, hissing as he touches himself lightly. Biting his lip, his eyes never leave yours, both losing your minds at a distance, showing just how needy you two are feeling for your bodies to finally merge together. 

Putting on the condom, Lewis meets you on the bed again with a different side of him showing, now. He wants you, all of you, and he wants to give you everything you wish for this moment, forgetting about the hours, the fact that tomorrow will arrive either way - focusing only on this night with you, putting to the side all the different thoughts about an entire life with you, for once. 

He collects some of your wetness with his tip for some seconds, your foreheads touching as your eyes speak for yourselves, your lips savouring the other’s as he gently pushed himself inside of you. 

Both breathing out the air that you were holding in out of anticipation, Lewis’ arms wrap around your figure, bear hugging you so he can feel you closer, while you’re wrapping your legs tighter around the man’s waist.

Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, his lips are quick to adorn your entire face with kisses, wanting to make it as pleasurable and easy for you as possible, in need to feel your body melting with his, so you can feel as carefree as you can. 

With your lips meeting again, the makeout session between your bodies grows hotter and needier, letting him know that he can move, that he desperately needs to move, as your arms snake around his neck, touching his hair, nails grazing on the skin of his shoulders. 

Feeling your warmth and sliding into your wetness is enough for Lewis to let out the hungry man inside of him escape. Starting off slow, he really wants to take his time with you, but the more you groan in his ear, pulling on his braids, the more he feels you are growing needier for more action, more friction, encouraging him to move until sparks are flying from your frames. 

Focusing on the feeling of his hard dick pressing your walls, to the point of making you see stars, you beg him for more, definitely not wanting him to take it slow with you, not wanting to feel like you are making love in this night that reeks of desperate sex, made to solutionate the heat erupting from the both of you, nothing else. 

The more Lewis picks up his pace, the more your sounds grow audible, echoing through the four walls surrounding your bodies, his mouth attached to the sweetest spot on your neck - licking it, sucking on it until purple bruises are showing up on your skin, making him smirk to himself at the sight, the closest he will ever be to mark you as his. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucks you rougher, feeling the way his cock keeps hitting your favourite spot, your moans mixing with the sound of your skin clapping, your hips meeting as you try to move your waist, taking him the best you can. 

Pumping pleasure into your veins, Lewis can’t hold back his own whines and groans, feeling your nails scratching their way down his back, your walls wrapping around him tightly, driving the man absolutely insane as he hides his face in the crook of your neck - only for you to pull him by the braids, connecting your lips in a hot kiss again, your tongues playing with each other until saliva is dripping down your chins. 

It’s hot, sensual, needy, loud, rough, and you don’t know how much more you can take, feeling a bubble slowly growing in the pit of your stomach, as he keeps hitting your g-spot effortlessly, making sure you won’t forget about tonight.

In the middle of his rough, accelerated thrusts, he still takes some time to kiss your cheeks softly, to compliment you, letting you know how good you feel, how you are taking him so well - words that you don’t pay enough attention to reply to. 

You feel yourself on the verge of hitting your climax, growing desperate at the way he keeps moving inside of you - fast, rough, desperate, almost writing his name on your skin, as his lips keep sucking bruises on your chest, his hands travelling through your figure sensually. 

Even if your mind is turning blank already, your pussy throbbing and clenching around his dick, you still try to use all your strength to cut it off, to distance his body from yours, noticing how Lewis immediately stops his movements once he feels your hands on his chest, slightly pushing him away - leaving him with furrowed eyebrows, a confused look on his face. 

- Did I do something wrong? - he immediately asks, only to be shushed with your index finger touching his lips. 

A sultry smirk is covering your features, taking control of the situation now, as you roll Lewis’ body over, so he can lay on his back. Kissing his entire chest, that’s moving up and down as the man tries to catch his breath, you soon find the path back to his mouth, licking his lips softly, only to be met with his hunger once again - his tongue meeting yours halfway. 

He’s enticed by your actions, curious to see what move you’ll put out now, and your movements definitely surprise him. 

Your hand reaches for his dick, wiggling your eyebrows at him once you slowly start to remove the condom from his member - seeing how his eyes widen, his voice calling your name softly yet sternly, trying to catch your attention, so you won’t do it. 

Shushing his troubled mind with another kiss, you let him know that it’s okay, that you have everything under control - winking at the man in front of you, your fingers working to finally release his cock from the condom wrapped around it. 

Now, you are in control, and you feel the most powerful ever when you move to straddle Lewis - only to see him biting his lip again at the view, his hands travelling up and down your sides, stopping at your boobs so he can pay some attention to them, massaging them until he feels you melting at his touch again.

But the melting doesn’t last long. You were so close to your orgasm, but this isn’t how you want tonight to end - in a bear hug, kissing Lewis as you reach your highs, acting like a couple all along. You. Are. Not. Making. Love. 

Turning your back to him, you work your magic, moving so you can slowly connect with him again, sinking down on his dick in a reverse cowgirl moment. You can’t see it, but Lewis is biting his lip again at the sight of your ass in full display for him, feeling his hands touching your ass cheeks before you start moving. 

But this isn’t your first rodeo, and Lewis needs to understand that. Leaning your body so you can hold yourself to his ankles, you start moving your hips up and down, in a seesaw movement that has the man whimpering under your figure in minutes. 

Feeling each other raw only makes your bodies feel hotter, his member diving in your ocean, feeling each inch of your wetness dripping down his shaft the more you bounce on him, sensing how incredibly warm and tight you are for him - leaving him to hold your hips strongly as he admires your silhouette getting all the pleasure from his body, as the man meets your movements, thrusting up inside your needy cunt, harder and faster by the minute. 

On the other hand, you don’t know how you are keeping it together, being left completely speechless at the way Lewis manages to fuck you so good from this new angle you just found, making stars cloud your brain, not being able to say anything besides the filthy, loud moans leaving your throat right now, as you feel every vein of his hard dick moving in your walls, so fast and rough that you know that he is engraving every detail of his dick inside of your pussy, at this point. 

But this is what you wanted all along, and you can’t hide the victorious smile on your face - that you are happy that Lewis can’t see, right now. Your brain keeps cheering at the way you seem to have him wrapped around your finger, having him doing everything you want, allowing you to use him for your pleasure - something that you plan on keeping up.

For you, this isn’t making love, for Lewis, it’s exactly the opposite: if love is fire, you definitely have a lot of flame - especially to set him alight. And that’s how, minutes later, you are whining at the way the tip of his dick purposely hits your g-spot again, feeling so full of his cock that you never want him to stop, this sensation to end, feeding all your dreams and wildest fantasies with him, now. 

You beg him not to stop, and the man’s hand travels up your spine, making you shiver, only for his fingers to intertwine with your hair, making you arch your back in his direction, his other hand on your hip, almost trying to hold you in place as you continuously sink on his cock, drenching him with your juices as you feel the bubble in your stomach almost bursting.

- Touch yourself, baby girl. You wanted me to be rough? Here you go. Now do as I say - his thick, hoarse voice says, entering your ears and travelling through your veins almost with immediate control over your movements, hearing him moan as he notices your hand snaking between your legs.

Your fingers feel your wetness as soon as you reach for your clit, touching yourself in a way that you know so well now, feeling so familiar yet so new as you try to focus on your movements while Lewis’ dick is still buried deep inside of you, not letting you stop for a second. 

Still, you circle your fingers around your pearl, rubbing the juices that are dripping out of your cunt on it, your digits almost escaping your favourite spot to touch at how wet you are, now. 

Your loud moans suddenly disappear, leaving you with just small, needy whimpers to escape from time to time as you focus on your pleasure, on touching yourself as your body starts clenching again, your muscles growing stiff as you can see your release so close already, chasing it the more you rub your clit, as if your life depends on it. 

With a final, deep thrust coming from him, you final hit your high, hearing Lewis moaning behind you as he continues buried inside of your pulsing cunt, emptying inside of you - just how you wanted, exactly how you begged him to do some seconds ago, feeling his cock twitching in between your walls, the more he milks his seed inside of you. 

Regaining your breaths, soon you’re leaving your place on top of him, realizing how his arms are already open, waiting for you to join him. The sight makes a genuine smile appear in your face, lying your head in his chest as you both sigh, your body focusing on the way his arms immediately wrap around your figure, his lips kissing your sweaty forehead, his gentle eyes looking at you as if you are the purest thing he has ever seen - even after all the filthiness that filled this room for the last hour or so. 

The space surrounding you two is comfortable, almost as if it was meant to be, leaving very little space for words, both of you focusing on the other’s gentle touch instead, and the way you just made each other feel. And the soft warmth erupting from his shape is enough to put you to sleep in minutes, especially after feeling your body so tired and sore from the latest activities that took place in today’s agenda. 

Waking up to soft kisses landing on your forehead, some fingers gently playing with your hair, you open your eyes to an adorable Lewis, who's looking down at you with a loving smile plastered all over his face, whispering a soft ‘morning, darlin’ to you.

Last night exceeded all his expectations. To him, it was way more than just sex - it was the common share of the connection that makes your bodies merge into one, taking each other to heaven and back in a matter of minutes, leaving him to feel some butterflies tingling in his stomach just as he reminds himself of how it feels to kiss your sweet lips, how his hands seem to belong glued to your silhouette, travelling through your body during sex, and rubbing your back softly, playing with your hair right after, so he can make you feel loved and desired.

He has been awake for a while now, admiring your peaceful figure while his mind came up with ideas to surprise you. The man wanted to get up, go to your favourite bakery to grab the infamous scones you always share, and maybe even pick some flowers on the way home, so he could see your shy smile on your sleepy features, like he has been dreaming about for so long. 

But, the way you looked so beautiful, so safe and protected to rest on his chest, made him give in to his plans, forgetting about pastries and flowers, acting selfish one more time so he could enjoy every second of having you nestled in him, feeling you so close to the point of even thinking about tattooing your moles in his veins.

Smiling back at him, your lips connect for the first time this morning, making sparkles appear one more time - something that you would pray it wouldn’t happen again. But, shrugging it off, your hand caresses his cheek softly, as you take a deep breath before lying further more into his chest, wanting to feel him closer too. 

Last night was incredible - of course it was. Lewis touched you in ways that no other guy ever did, changing your perspective of desire, neediness, showing how a man acts if he really wants you. 

You know you are not the one for him, you could never be. To be honest, you just wanted to be one of his girls, even for one night, so you could kill the fire erupting between your bodies, finally getting a taste of each other. 

But, as you wake up, the feeling of cuddling him, of being safely wrapped in his eyes, makes your heart shift a little more.

- Never thought you were the cuddle type - you break the silence, a curious smile on your face as you notice his eyebrows furrowing almost in a comical manner. - Oh, baby girl, there’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me yet - he chuckles, kissing your temple as his words make you stare at the horizon for a second.  - Yet? - you can’t stop your mouth, the question escaping your lips before you could even process it.

But instead of considering your reaction weird, he just gives you an honest smile before replying.

- Uhum. I plan on seeing you again, and again, and again - he states confidently, landing a soft kiss on your lips in between each repeated word, sealing his promise. 

Leaving your lips, his mouth is slowly starting to travel down your body again, his eyes shining as he looks up at you while he kisses your chest, moving to the skin of your stomach in seconds.

As much as you want this, there’s a bitter voice in the back of your head, taking you out of the transe that Lewis’ touch always gets you in, forcing you to interrupt his loving actions. 

- You know we shouldn’t do this - you say insecurely, your voice small when compared to the way he makes you feel so powerful and important to him.

He is fast to stop his actions, moving his body to be by your side again, noticing how your eyes look big and even somewhat scared in your face. He knows what’s in your mind: if your boss finds out about any of this, your job will be on the line, and you don’t want to flush your career down the drain because of a man. 

Still, he tries to lighten up the mood, nudging the tip of his nose with yours gently, until he sees a small smile threatening to appear on the corners of your lips.

- Shouldn’t we? This feels pretty right to me - he says, kissing your lips with a light aura surrounding him, almost as if he can send some of that tranquility to you.  - But we are business partners, Lewis… - you try to argue, only to be met with a rejecting look on his face, shaking his head ‘no’ at what you’re trying to imply. - Stop. - I’m not doing anything - you try to reason with him, only for him to wrap his arms tighter around your figure, nestling you in his chest again. - You’re trying to find excuses for what we did. Stop. Nobody cares if we’re business partners, please stop thinking about how your boss won’t be happy if he finds out about us. This happened because we both want each other - he says, in between sultry kisses to your lips.

And just like that, he shushes away all your fears, wrapping you in a soft, easy bubble of love. Soon enough, his arms are picking you up from the bed in bridal style, walking over to the bathroom so you two can have a shower.

It’s weird, but soothing - the way he makes you feel, how you two are so comfortable around each other, even while being naked without having sex, seeing how he hugs you from behind as the water dripping on your skins warms both of your bodies.

- Thank god it’s sunday and I get to have you all to myself - he says in your ear, kissing your shoulder softly, never wanting to let go of you.

Yeah, thank god for the F1 breaks and weekends without work, that help you relax in the comfort of Lewis’ arms, almost making you believe that you could get used to this on a daily basis. 

The shower is filled with laughs, gentle touches, loving kisses, lots of music playing in the background, making you forget about how this man almost drove you to insanity due to the way he touched your body last night - definitely leaving marks on your figure that will forbid you from forgetting about him for some days. 

Still, his touch is as soft as ever when he’s rubbing your back, your belly, your legs, insisting on kissing your features nonstop, voicing out loud how you’re the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, making you blush while you try to cover your pink cheeks from him. 

- I’m going to go get dressed, baby. Take your time, okay? I don’t want you to rush - Lewis informs you, pecking your lips once more before leaving the shower, with a different plan in mind. 

You stay there for a bit more, hoping the warm water can help you soothe the sore sensation in between your legs - and also leaving you with some time alone to think about everything that happened, and how the pet name he just used made a tingling sensation erupt through your entire body. Maybe you like this, maybe you could really get used to this, to see him more, to have more soft moments by his side, besides the sex scenes that you still envision to have with him. 

Putting on a tracksuit, Lewis leaves his house for some minutes, trying to make his plan work now. Rushing, the man goes to the closest bakery, buying some scones, cookies, croissants and a bit of everything that he can see on display, really - not knowing if you are craving something different for breakfast today. 

The man wanted to stick to his initial plan, but the line at the bakery was longer than he expected, and he starts growing scared that you might have left the shower already. So, on the way back home, he picks a small flower from one of his neighbours’ neatly kept vase. 

Stepping out of the shower, you call Lewis’ name, only to be met with silence. Walking around the house, you find it weird that it’s empty, you being the only soul inside of the space right now. There’s a hint of disappointment hitting your heart right now, you can’t lie. You don’t know why he left, why he would leave you alone at his own place, but maybe this is just a sign that you can’t get used to this on a daily basis. 

“It was a fun night, and that’s all it was” - you think to yourself, moving to put your dress from last night back on, a frown on your face as you gather your belongings, getting ready to leave this house as well. 

As you are searching for your purse in the living room, not knowing where you put it in the middle of all the events that took place last night, the front door swings open, startling you as you are met with Lewis’ figure again.

His eyes grow a bit when he sees you in your dress again, his eyebrows furrowing before speaking.

- Are you leaving, love? - he asks quietly, almost as if the thought of spending the day away from you is making him sad already.  - Well, you left as well, so I thought it was a hint for me to go - you try to explain, stuttering a bit at how nervous his presence is making you feel again, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Surprised by your words, he walks over to you.

- A hint? Baby, I went to get us breakfast! - he shows you the bag from the bakery. - Got us scones, of course, some croissants, cookies, and a bunch of other things because I didn’t know what you wanted - now it’s his turn to give you a nervous smile, handing you the small purple flower that he picked for you. - And this is for you. 

How does he have this incessant power in himself to soften up your stone cold heart so much? To the point of almost feeling small tears tingling in your eyes, forcing you to push them away as you take the flower from his hand, smiling like a teenager, feeling the damn crimson painting your cheeks one more time. 

His fingers caress your cheek lovingly, almost afraid of seeing you run away if he gets too close. But still, he lets his feelings show, doing what his heart keeps begging him to do.

- Please don’t go, baby. We don’t have much time just to ourselves outside your office, and today it’s sunday… Unless you don’t want to spend the day with me and you really want to leave, of course - he is rambling, his eyes looking into yours, reading you as another smile erupts from your face, taking action to kiss his lips. - I was really craving a croissant and a coffee - you joke, noticing the relieved sigh that escapes his body, sharing another enamoured smile with you. - Choose a t-shirt from my closet, love. I’ll set the table.

It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice, carefree, light sunday, feeling safe enough to be wrapped in someone’s arms as you share scones and kisses, cuddling up on the sofa while watching silly movies and sharing funny life stories in the middle of it. 

And in between all the worries that show up from time to time, there’s still something that erupts inside of you - something stronger than all the intrusive thoughts that might try to ruin your moments with Lewis. Something that shows you how much you enjoy the time spent by his side, in a way that you never thought you would. 

It even leaves you to believe that, in a parallel world, if things maintain this level of intensity between you two, you might even allow yourself to open up a little more to the man that’s right in front of you - cooking dinner as he shamelessly dances and sings to his playlist, making the most genuines smiles erupt from your figure, ones that you definitely hadn’t seen in a long, long time. 

[essiemclaren]

watch me win

in which lando was paid to fake date y/n!

pairing: mean!lando x reader

tw: super mean/rude lando and ofc angst

day 2

lando's text with the bros

lando's text with the reader

Life is unpredictable, but for Lando Norris, there was always a backup plan. He didn’t need to waste time stressing over what could go wrong; his mind was always three steps ahead. Quick moves, sharp thinking—that’s how he kept control. So, when he asked her out for Saturday, it wasn’t because he liked her. Far from it. He didn’t even find her interesting enough to care. She wasn’t some elusive beauty that had him tongue-tied. No, Lando asked her out because he was helping a buddy out, someone too spineless to handle their own situation. She was a tool, a temporary convenience to get what he needed.

Right after their day 1 of meeting, Lando... Oh, Lando instantly knew the way she clung to every word he said, the desperate way she hung on to each fleeting moment of attention—Lando could practically see it. She was that type, the one who’d find validation in any scrap of it, always eager to be the center of someone’s universe. It wasn’t even a challenge; she was a walking cliché, all wide eyes and innocent smiles, pretending she was so much more than the attention-seeker she really was. And Lando? He was just playing along, a momentary distraction, a little fun to help out his friend.

Nothing personal.

She wasn’t anything special—just someone who’d fall for the smallest gestures, starved for a taste of something that made her feel wanted. Lando didn’t mind giving her that. He knew she'd eat it up, desperate for it, clinging to the idea that this meaningless gesture somehow meant something more.

And for day 2? Since he asked her out for Saturday, he’d get a brand new motorbike—a sleek, custom bike, the kind that screamed luxury and power. Because why not take advantage of the situation, turning a simple play into something even more valuable than her fleeting attention?

Saturday

lando's text with the reader

lando's text with the bros

lando's post on x/twitter

After the whole thing was over, Lando leaned back, a smirk tugging at his lips as he replayed the night in his head. Did he regret it? Not for a second. She missed her precious dinner party, but that wasn’t his problem. He couldn’t care less. Her disappointment was just a footnote in his evening, barely worth a second thought. What mattered was the new ride waiting for him—shiny, powerful, and all his. He’d played the game, entertained her for a bit, and now he had what he wanted.

He didn’t regret a thing. Not for a second.

--

a/n: Hey everyone! I’m sorry this chapter is shorter than usual – I’ve been super busy, but I hope you understand! I really enjoyed writing this part and I hope you did too. I hope you’re all having a wonderful holiday break! Please let me know what you think about this chapter – your feedback means a lot. Again, happy holidays, take care, and I’ll be back soon! xx

-essie the elf 🎄

taglist: @5sospenguinqueen @bluethperson @mayusaatma @mountvesuvu @styl1shl1v @hotgirlslikemax @creamsteam3 @kravitswhore @issi-loves-dynamic @llando4norris @sunlithearts @osclerc @hurtblossom @miiaex @somerandomf1fan @nataliambc @saachiep81 @ironmaiden1313 @s-awturn @c4tc0re @dannyleclerc @lexiecampos @loloekie @idontknowanythingsblog @grovelingmen @cchewhaz @linneaguriii

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Pieces of Her - Chapter One

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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(I know... I know, I should NOT be starting another story but, this idea just won't leave my mind)

“Fuck baby” Jon moaned out, as he gripped Kenya’s hips. Kenya threw her head back in pleasure and she started bouncing on his dick. “Shit” he dragged out.  “Just like that.” Jon's fingers dug into the curve of Kenya’s waist, pulling her closer to him with every bounce. She leaned forward, kissing him deeply, their tongues entwining in a heated exchange. 

“You boutta cum for me, Daddy?” Kenya whispered against his lips and Jon nodded, his hips bucking up to meet her every thrust. Kenya leaned down so that their chests were pressed against each other. The sound of her ass slapping against his thighs triggered his orgasm. 

“Shit! I’m boutta nut!” Hearing him say that made her start to bounce on his dick harder and faster. 

“Go ‘head Daddy, nut in your pussy.” 

“Fuck!” He moaned out, closing his eyes in ecstasy  as her walls tightened around him 

“Trin..” He moaned out and both he and Kenya froze. 

‘Bitch, did you just…” She trailed off, moving off of him and rushing into the bathroom to clean herself up. Jon winced when she slammed the bathroom door shut. 

“Baby! I’m sorry man, I-I” He stuttered trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he said his ex-girlfriend's name as he came inside of his current fiance. He groaned and got off the bed, pulling his briefs back on, and walked over to the bathroom door, frowning when he found it locked. 

“Kenya, I’m sorry. Open the door please.” He jumped as the bathroom door opened and Kenya walked out, now dressed in her pink Louis Vuitton robe. 

“Move out my way.” She said glaring at him. Jon watched with wide eyes as she walked into their closet and came back out with her duffel bag and dressed in a grey hoodie and black leggings. 

“No baby, wait lemme -“ Jon wrapped one of his hands around her forearm trying to stop her but Kenya snatched her arm out of his grasp. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” She said, looking at him in disgust. “I knew something was up when y’all followed each other back on Instagram. You got me fucked up Fatu.” She said, throwing clothes and some essentials in her duffle bag. 

“No, just let me explain.” Jon tried to grab her arm again but the glare she sent his way stopped him. 

“ I knew this was too good to be true.” Kenya started, motioning her hand between the two of them. “I heard the way your mom and brothers talked about our relationship. How shocked they were when you told them you proposed. You’re mom couldn’t even pretend to be happy Jonathan.” 

Jon felt his heart sink as Kenya's words hit him. He knew she was right. His family had been skeptical of their relationship from the start, always comparing Kenya to Trinity.

Since his mom had met Kenya, she would always try to compare the two. And she would point out all of Kenya's flaws. 

��“Trinity always made sure his clothes were clean before he went on the road.” 

“Trinity always had a warm meal ready for Jon” 

“Trinity was used to life on the road… How are you going to cope with him being gone most of the time?” 

“I was never gonna be good enough, no matter how hard I tried. We we never going to last”  Jon watched helplessly as Kenya finished packing up what she could. She zipped the bag up and placed it on her shoulder. “I’ll try to come back for the rest of my stuff.” 

“Kenya.. Please.” He whispered, his voice cracking as he watched her with teary eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go.”  

Kenya scoffed quietly as she made it to their his bedroom door. “Do you know what hurts the most? I always knew that you weren’t over her, like in the back of my mind I knew, but when she left the company I just… I dunno I was hoping you would get over her, but I guess that was silly of me to assume.” 

“Baby... I-I am over her.”

Kenya scoffed again as she noticed his slight hesitation. She let out a sad sigh as she looked around the room she had decorated for their anniversary. Kenya's eyes lingered on the photos she had taped to the strings, their smiling faces mocked her now, a painful reminder of what she thought they had. She blinked back tears and turned her gaze back to him. 

“You’re not and I can’t keep pretending that you are.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her tears now falling freely down her cheeks. “I deserve better than to be someone’s second choice.” 

She opened the door and walked out of the room, she heard Jon’s footsteps close behind her. “I love you!” He called out after her. “I don’t know why I said her name! I haven’t talked to her in months! I swear baby, It didn’t mean anything!” 

Kenya stopped walking and whirled around to face Jon. “How could you say that? What if I moaned out my ex’s name while you were inside me huh? Would you just be okay with it?” 

Jon fell silent, unable to answer. He knew he'd be devastated if the roles were reversed. Kenya shook her head, disappointed but not surprised by his lack of response.

“Exactly.” She said as she shook her head and opened the front door, walking out and towards her car. She unlocked the doors with the fob and threw her bag into the backseat. She hurriedly hopped into the driver's seat as she noticed Jon rushing towards her, still only dressed in his briefs. 

“Kenya, Please. I’m fucking begging. Just come back inside so we can talk.” Jon said, pulling on the door handle but she had locked it. Kenya stared straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as Jon pleaded outside her window. She couldn't bear to look at him, knowing if she did, her resolve might crumble. With a deep breath, she started the engine. “No! Kenya!” Jon called out hitting his hand against the window as she pulled off from in front of their home. 

Kenya had wound up driving to her studio and sleeping on the couch there. She woke up the next morning to about 50 missed phone calls from Jon and about 20 from his twin brother Josh. 

Josh Fatu: Sis, can u jus let me know you safe. Bro in here spazzing out cause u turned ur location off. 

To Josh Fatu: I’m okay 

Just as she sat up and stretched her phone started ringing. Kenya sighed as Jon’s contact stared back at her. She waited for it to stop ringing before unlocking her phone and blocking his number. She let out a deep sigh as she pushed herself off the couch, walked into the kitchen area and started a pot of coffee. 

She was in deep thought as she leaned against the counter, absentmindedly stroking the engagement ring she was still wearing. Kenya's fingers lingered on the diamond ring, memories flooding her mind. The day Jon proposed, the way his eyes lit up when she said yes, the plans they'd made for their future together. It all felt like a distant dream now. 

Its been about a month since she’s last talked to Jon. Even though he was blocked from her phone he had shown up to the studio multiple times to try to get her to talk to him, she just couldn’t she was embarrassed. She had bever had a guy moan out another girls name while she was with them. 

“Yo shawty, you good?” Kenya broke out of her daydream and look up from the soundboard. 

Brent well Christopher was staring back at her, holding the joint out to her to which she politely declined. 

“Yeah sorry, just thinking.” She said as she cleared her throat. “You ready.” 

He took anothe rhit of the joint before setting it aside. “Whenever you are.”  

Kenya took a deep breath and nodded before standing up and walking into the booth. She normally let other artist perform her lyrics but this one was personal.. She needed to be the one on the tract. 

Brent gave her a thumbs up and Kenya closed her eyes as the music begans to flow from the headphones, she took a deep breath before her voice filled the studio as she began to sing. 

🎶Go figure You were the trigger You brought me to an obstructed view When you knew the picture was bigger Who am I kiddin'? Knew from the beginnin' You'd ruin everything, you do it every time You are my enemy, you are no friend of mine, muhfucker, uh 🎵

BrentFaiyaz

liked by JustKenya, and 514,700 others

BrentFaiyaz: thank you @JustKenya for trusting me 🎼

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chrisbrownofficial: oh shit! we getting new music!

hermusicofficial: she's finally getting in the booth! Time to show the world your talent baby girl ❤️

JustKenya: ❤️❤️

Authors Note: WHY DO I WRITE JON AS THIS PIECE OF SHIT OMG!! but here's my new story! (well one of them.) Tell me what y'all think! 😬

(edit, sorry.. this is the song Kenya "wrote")

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