#and his mind is still trying to catch up to his body

[moonlightwritingf1]

The Monaco Experience | LN4

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando, newly in a relationship, and Lando finally invites Y/N to Monaco to stay at his apartment.

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ word count ━━━━━━━ 2.9k

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

The first thing Y/n noticed as she stirred awake was the warmth. There was a steady, comforting heat radiating against her back, and something heavy draped over her waist. It took her foggy brain a moment to piece together where she was—and who she was with. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. She shifted slightly, only to feel the arm around her tighten ever so slightly, pulling her closer.

Lando.

Her heart skipped a beat as the memories of last night came flooding back. The teasing, the flirtation, the way his lips had brushed against her hair before they both drifted off. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his arms, but now that she was here, she couldn’t bring herself to move. His chest rose and fell steadily behind her, his breath warm against the back of her neck. She could feel every inch of him pressed against her, his body fitting perfectly against hers like they were made to be this close.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile tugging at her mouth. This is dangerous, she thought. Dangerous because she could get used to this far too easily. Dangerous because it felt so right, even though she’d spent so long convincing herself it wasn’t.

Carefully, she turned her head just enough to glance over her shoulder. Lando was still asleep, his face relaxed, his dark lashes fanning out against his cheeks. He looked softer like this, younger, without the usual smirk or playful glint in his eyes. She studied the curve of his jaw, the faint stubble shadowing his skin, and felt a strange ache in her chest. How does he manage to look this good even when he’s sleeping?

As if sensing her gaze, Lando stirred, his arm tightening around her again as he let out a low, sleepy murmur. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.

Y/n froze for a moment, then quickly turned her face back to the pillow, hoping he wouldn’t notice how closely she’d been watching him. “Morning,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and then she felt him shift behind her, his hand sliding up her side until it rested just below her ribs. His palm was warm against her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “Sleep well?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was something else there—something deeper, more intimate.

She nodded, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “Yeah. You?”

“Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” he admitted, his lips brushing against the back of her neck as he spoke. She sucked in a sharp breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Was he doing that on purpose? Or was it just an accident?

Either way, it was driving her crazy.

“You know,” she started, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady, “you don’t have to stay. If you need to go… or whatever.”

Lando chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through her body. “Are you trying to kick me out already?”

“No!” she said quickly, then winced at how desperate she sounded. “I just mean… I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything. I know you’re busy, and—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted gently, his hand moving to her hip and turning her to face him. She blinked up at him, her breath catching as their eyes met. His gaze was soft, almost tender, and it made her stomach flip. “I’m exactly where I want to be. Trust me.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. Trust him. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She wanted to trust him, more than anything, but letting someone in—letting herself be vulnerable—was terrifying. And yet, lying here in his arms, feeling the way he looked at her… it was getting harder and harder to keep those walls up.

“Okay,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

He smiled, his thumb brushing against her cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good.” He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she found herself tilting her head up, her lips parting slightly in anticipation.

The kiss was soft at first, almost hesitant, as if they were both testing the waters. But then his hand slid into her hair, holding her gently as he deepened the kiss, and any thoughts of hesitation evaporated. She melted into him, her hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed her—like she was the only thing that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together. “Wow,” she breathed, her voice shaky.

Lando grinned, his nose brushing against hers. “Wow indeed.”

She laughed, the sound bubbling up from deep inside her. “You’re such a dork.”

“Hey, I’m your dork,” he shot back, his tone teasing, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made her heart skip another beat.

“Is that so?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded, his expression softening. “If you’ll have me.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking. But all she saw was sincerity—and something else, something that made her chest ache in the best possible way. Slowly, she reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I think I could live with that,” she said quietly.

His smile widened, and then he was kissing her again, his hands roaming over her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. It was overwhelming, the way he made her feel—like she was falling and flying all at once.

Eventually, they broke apart, both of them panting, their foreheads resting together once more. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Lando murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

She felt her face flush, her heart swelling at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood before it got too serious.

He chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Good to know,” she replied, grinning up at him.

But before either of them could say anything else, his phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, shattering the peaceful moment. Lando groaned, reluctantly pulling away to grab it. “Sorry,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. “It’s work. I have to take this.”

She nodded, trying to ignore the pang of disappointment in her chest. “Of course. Go ahead.”

He gave her an apologetic smile before answering the call, his voice dropping into a more professional tone. Y/n took the opportunity to slip out of bed, grabbing one of his discarded shirts from the floor and pulling it on. It hung loosely on her frame, the fabric still carrying his scent, and she couldn’t help but smile as she padded toward the kitchen.

As she started making coffee, she couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had felt on her skin, the way his lips had tasted. What are you doing, Y/n? she scolded herself silently. You’re supposed to be keeping your distance.

But deep down, she knew it was too late for that. She was already in too deep, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Lando appeared a few minutes later, his phone tucked back into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” he said, leaning against the counter as he watched her pour two cups of coffee. “Duty calls.”

She handed him a mug, their fingers brushing briefly as he took it. “No worries. I get it.”

He sipped his coffee, his eyes never leaving hers. “So… what now?”

She hesitated, her grip tightening on her own mug. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He set his cup down and stepped closer, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “Where do we go from here?”

Her breath caught, her mind racing as she tried to come up with an answer. But before she could respond, he was kissing her again, slow and sweet, and all rational thought went out the window.

When they finally pulled apart, she looked up at him, her heart pounding. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “But… I want to figure it out. With you.”

His smile was brighter than the morning sun streaming through her windows. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

--

Lando’s fingers traced lazily along the rim of his coffee cup, his eyes never leaving Y/n’s as they sat across from each other in her cozy London flat. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on her face, and he couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly beautiful she looked, even with her hair slightly tousled from sleep.

“So,” he began, his voice casual but laced with something more—something that made her stomach flutter. “I’ve been thinking… you’ve never been to Monaco, have you?”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “Are you asking me to come visit you, Lando?”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his confidence radiating through every movement. “Maybe. What if I told you I wanted to show you around? Give you the full Monaco experience. You know, the beaches, the yachts, the glamour…” He paused, his grin turning mischievous. “And, of course, me.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

“But you like it,” he countered, his tone dropping slightly, that teasing edge softening into something warmer, more sincere.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her coffee, trying to hide the way his words made her heart race. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s a big trip. And we’ve only just—” She hesitated, gesturing vaguely between them. “This is still so new.”

Lando reached across the table, his hand covering hers, his touch firm yet gentle. “New doesn’t mean it’s not worth exploring. Come on, Y/n. Let me show you my world. Just for a weekend. What do you say?”

There was something about the way he said it—the earnestness in his voice, the way his thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles—that melted her reservations. She bit her lip, looking up at him, and found herself nodding before she could overthink it.

“Okay,” she said softly. “A weekend in Monaco.”

His face lit up, and he squeezed her hand. “You won’t regret it. I promise.”

---

Three days later, Y/n stepped off the plane onto the tarmac of Nice Côte d’Azur Airport, squinting against the bright Mediterranean sun. She hadn’t even made it to baggage claim when she saw him, leaning casually against a sleek black car, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking every bit the F1 driver he was.

“Took you long enough,” he teased as she approached, pulling her into a tight hug. His scent—clean and masculine, with a hint of cologne—flooded her senses, and she felt a rush of warmth spread through her chest.

“Traffic on the M25,” she quipped, pulling back to look at him. “You wouldn’t believe how bad it gets.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” He took her suitcase from her, loading it into the trunk before opening the passenger door with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, m’lady.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at her lips as she slid into the seat. The car smelled like him, and the leather was cool against her skin. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This was Monaco. And she was spending it with him.

The drive along the coast was breathtaking, the sea glistening under the afternoon sun. They chatted easily, the conversation flowing as naturally as it always did between them. But there was something different this time—a tension that simmered beneath the surface, unspoken yet palpable.

When they finally pulled up to his apartment building, Y/n couldn’t help but gasp. It was everything she imagined—modern, luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering stunning views of the harbor.

“Welcome to Casa de Norris,” he said with a grin, grabbing her suitcase and leading her inside.

---

That evening, after a leisurely dinner at a seaside restaurant, they returned to his apartment. The city lights twinkled outside, and the air was warm, carrying the faint scent of salt and flowers. Lando poured them each a glass of wine, and they settled on the couch, the soft hum of music playing in the background.

Y/n sipped her wine, feeling the alcohol warming her veins. She glanced over at Lando, who was watching her with that same intense gaze that always seemed to see straight through her.

“What?” she asked, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

He shook his head slowly, setting his glass down. “Nothing. I just… I like seeing you like this. Relaxed. Happy.”

Her cheeks heated, and she looked down at her wine glass. “It’s hard not to be happy here. It’s… magical.”

“It’s not the place,” he said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “It’s you.”

Her breath caught, and she looked up at him, her heart pounding. There was something in his eyes—something serious, vulnerable—that made her stomach flip.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Tell me what you want, Y/n,” he murmured, his hand cupping her cheek. “Right now. Tell me.”

She swallowed hard, her mind racing. But then, in that moment, all she could think about was how much she wanted him—how much she’d always wanted him.

“You,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, filled with pent-up longing. She melted into him, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that left her dizzy.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, she looked up at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

She nodded, her heart hammering in her chest. “Yes.”

Without another word, he stood, pulling her to her feet and leading her toward the bedroom. The room was bathed in soft light, the bed impossibly large and inviting. He turned to her, his hands coming to rest on her waist as he kissed her again, tasting of wine and need.

Slowly, deliberately, he undressed her, his movements careful, reverent, as though she were something precious. When he pulled back to look at her, his gaze dark and hungry, she felt a shiver run down her spine.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. “So fucking beautiful.”

She reached for him then, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until it fell open, revealing the toned planes of his chest. Her fingers splayed over his skin, and he groaned, low and deep, pressing her back onto the bed.

As he kissed his way down her body, his lips trailing fire, she arched into him, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Every touch, every caress, was electric, lighting her up from the inside out. His lips were everywhere, leaving a trail of fire across her skin. He started at her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below her ear, eliciting a soft moan from her. His hands roamed over her body, cupping her breasts as his mouth moved lower, teasing her nipples with his tongue until she was arching into him, desperate for more.

“Lando,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to worship her body with his mouth. He didn’t stop, his kisses growing hungrier as he moved down her stomach, his hands gripping her hips to keep her still. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his breath hot against her most sensitive skin.

“You taste so good,” he murmured before his tongue flicked out, teasing her clit in slow, deliberate strokes. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as he worked her with his mouth, his fingers slipping inside her to match the rhythm of his tongue. The pleasure built quickly, coiling tight in her belly, and she was on the edge, so close to shattering—

But then he stopped, pulling away just as she was about to fall over the edge. She whimpered, her body trembling with need, but he didn’t give her time to protest. In one swift motion, he positioned himself between her legs, his cock pressing against her entrance.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice rough with desire. Her eyes met his, dark and intense, as he thrust into her in one smooth motion, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move, each stroke driving her closer to the edge again.

He kissed her deeply, swallowing her moans as their bodies moved together, the tension building until it was unbearable. And when she finally came, her body convulsing around him, he followed her over the edge, his release spilling deep inside her. They clung to each other, their breaths mingling, as the world outside faded away.

[witherby]

hello! great work so far :-) im getting into batfam myself and been loving the platonic/familial works you do w littlest wayne! was wondering if you'd ever do an teen y/n or just an older one? I'd love to see you tackle the idea of a robin y/n or jaybe just some angsty kid stuff,,,,,, hope you had a good new years!

-- :33Anon

I love angst with my whole heart and soul, and I'm happy to write it with a slightly older Reader. Hope you don't mind I've commandeered your prompt to showcase the ability you guys voted on.

This one's a long read so I'm splitting it up. This part is roughly 2400+ words.

The Littlest Wayne: Uncertain Home

(Part 1/2)

Masterlist is Here!

Uncle J'onn is looking at you curiously.

He's been doing that a lot, lately. When Daddy brings you to the Watchtower to be babysat so he can go save the world, one of his co-workers that they can afford to spare gets put in charge of keeping an eye on you. Usually it's Uncle Hal, but this time it's J'onn and he's in his natural form, which you don't mind. Green is your favorite color, and his whole body is green! He's nice and calm, and tells you lots of stories and plays any game you want, even if it's hard for him not to cheat and read your mind. He says it's instinct. You don't hold it against him because you still have fun.

Lately, though, when he talks to you, he tilts his head a bit. He usually does that when he can't understand something.

You wipe your face, checking for cookie crumbs. All clean. You search your shirt for any weird marks or stains. All clean. You scrunch your nose and puff out your cheeks, pouting.

"What's wrong, uncle J'onny?" You ask him. Daddy says the way to get honest answers from someone is just to be forthcoming (Dicky told you what forthcoming meant when you asked him later), so you are. "Did I do something wrong?"

That seems to snap his train of thought. J'onn shakes his head and goes back to sorting out the jigsaw puzzle pieces for you. You're good enough at this to do 100-piece puzzles, now, and when you get really stuck you don't even cry anymore!

"Nothing is wrong, Flittermouse," he says, watching you start putting the edges together first like Dami taught you. "You are simply...changing. Differences are not inherently wrong."

"What's inherably mean?"

"Inherently. It means instinctively, or something that is "set in stone." A rule that does not change. I am stating that change is not something that is always wrong. It's not a firm rule."

You pout and try to process all of that in your brain. It was a partial answer. Daddy says that means people might want to hide something from you.

"What's changing?" You ask him. "I got older a week ago. Is that what you mean? I'm four, now. Grandpappy says I'm getting so big and growed up. He says to not do that so fast. I dunno how, though. He's silly."

J'onn hums. His eyes look away from you as he considers what to say. You put one whole edge together before he speaks again.

"You know that I am not a human, correct?"

"Yeah, I know," you say. "I don't care. I love you. And auntie Diana. And uncle Clark. And uncle Barry. And —"

"Thank you," J'onn gently interrupts. "Do you also know that, sometimes, humans are born not entirely human? That sometimes they get special abilities?"

"Yeah, I know that," you repeat.

"I suspect that —" he cuts himself off, hesitates, then starts again. "Little one. You are showing signs of being one of those humans with special abilities."

"I am?" You ask. You perk up. "Can I fly?!"

You immediately abandon the puzzle and climb onto your chair, about to jump off of it to try and fly around, but J'onn catches you by the back of your shirt before you can hit the ground.

"You cannot."

"Aww...then I don't wanna be a megahuman," you complain, stomping your foot.

"Metahuman."

"Whatever."

"I am sorry," J'onn says, "I did not mean to upset you. I do think you are developing powers, however."

"Not fly powers?" You frown.

"No, not flight powers."

"Boring," you say, blowing raspberries. J'onn cracks a smile at your antics and you giggle. "Help me do the puzzle, please!"

"Alright," he relents, sorting more pieces for you. You're both quiet for a while, and you get the whole frame done before he speaks again.

"Little one. Do you know your father's rule about metahumans?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning, because you're a great listener. You pitch your voice down and make it scratchy. It's adorable in your four-year-old tone. "No metas in Gotham. I am Nighttime. Raaahhh."

J'onn huffs in amusement. "Right. He usually means what he says, does he not?"

"Yeah," you agree, "daddy is a bad liar. He lied and said he didn't eated the last cookie once, but he did eated it. Alfie was mad, 'cause it was for Dami, but Dami didn't care. He likes brownies more than cookies. I like brownies, too."

"I figured," J'onn says. He's not looking at you again. This time he's frowning.

"Do you want brownies?" You ask, figuring that was the issue. "I don't have any. I can ask for some when Daddy comes back. I'm good at sharing, 'cause I'm a good noodle, like Jay says."

"No, but thank you for offering to share. Jason is right, you are a good noodle."

You preen. "I know!"

J'onn drops the subject again and helps you complete the puzzle. You squint at every piece in concentration and politely ask him if he can dim the lights so you can work better. He complies, and after another hour and a half, you have a completed image on the table.

"Yay! We did it!"

The sounds of chatter and footsteps appear down the hall moments later, and you spring to your feet in delight.

"Hello!!!" You shout.

A chorus of "hello!" greets you in return from multiple heroes, and the rest of the Justice League files into the room one by one. They don't look too roughed up, so the mission wasn't very dangerous. That's good. You stand by the door and offer them hugs. Everyone complies, to your endless delight.

"Daddy!" You cheer when you see him, running and hugging Batman's legs. He scoops you into his arms and you grin and point at the table. "Uncle J'onny and I dided a whole puzzle! I didn't give up!"

"Good job, Mouse," Bruce says, reaching out to adjust the light. "You did it in the dark?"

"Yeah," you grin, kicking your feet. "Did you punch bad guys?"

"I did."

"Did you win?"

"Yes."

"Can we have ice cream?"

"Maybe after dinner." He carries you down the hall and towards his temporary quarters, the place he'll stay after a particularly tough mission when he can't make it home right away, and deposits you gently on the bed. "I have to debrief with everyone, and then we can pack up and go home."

"Okay, daddy," you say, already digging through the nightstand for a toy to play with. "I stay right here!"

"Good job," he says again, kissing the top of your head, and leaves you alone with a small wave.

--

The next time you need to be at the Watchtower, it's with Uncle Clark and Auntie Diana. The mission wasn't a super dangerous one, so they both got to stay behind and entertain you.

Today, you're a cashier at your world-famous grocery store. You have the best ingredients all over the world.

"Welcome to the groshy store, what do you want stranger?" You demand, getting into character. Clark looks mildly offended.

"Whoa, hello. That's a lot of 'tude for a paying customer," he says.

"You didn't buy nothing yet! Whataya want!"

"Uh. Some carrots please."

"All out."

Clark narrows his eyes at you. "Can you check in the back?"

You turn around. You turn back.

"All out. Whataya want!"

"You barely looked!" He insists.

"FRESH OUTTA CARROTS, BUB. WHATAYA WANT."

"Oh my goodness, now there's yelling. I think I need to speak to a manager."

"Okay!" You shuffle across the room and grab Diana's hand, leading her back to Clark. "This is the manager. Auntie, tell him all the carrots are gone. He can't have any."

Diana covers her mouth to stifle her laughter. "You heard them, stranger. There are no carrots here."

"Well, aside from the blatant nepotism, auntie, I think you're hiding the carrots from me," Clark huffs, crossing his arms. "I need them for my soup. Guess I'll go to the grocery store across town. I hear they're nicer."

"No," you gasp, "wait. Okay maybe I have one secret carrot. I go get it."

You leave their giggling forms and run over to the toy box that was set up for you on the watch tower, thrusting your hands inside to dig around. You squint your eyes, but all the bright colors are hard to distinguish properly. In the dark spaces, deeper into the box, is where you cast your focus. Instinctively, you follow the trail and close your hand around a plastic carrot. You lift your hand triumphantly.

"Okay, got it!" You cry, only to startle when you find both Clark and Diana kneeling beside your toy chest. Diana picks you up around the waist and takes several steps back, and Clark's eyes turn that funny shade of blue they do when he's using x-ray vision. "Umm, I gotted the carrot already. It's in my hand."

"Are you injured?" Diana asks you, expression deadly serious. You frown and shake your head. "You're certain? I could sense something in that box with you."

"No, I'm fine," you promise. Clark stands up and his eyes go back to normal. He shrugs, brows furrowed.

"There's nothing in there but toys."

"Yeah," you nod, "toys and dark spots."

Both heroes look at you. You squirm in Diana's hold shyly.

"Um, want to pay for the carrot?" You ask, holding it up. "It's only ten dollars. Orrr one lollipop." You whisper conspiratorially. "I can be bribed."

Diana and Clark exchange glances. Clark gingerly takes the carrot from you and puts it back in the toy box.

"Sold. Let's go to the kitchen and pick out which flavor you want."

You grin, forgetting about the game, and Diana puts you on the ground so you can follow excitedly after them. With a couple "pretty please's" and your lethal puppy dog eyes, you even manage to get two lollipops. You ask to be hoisted onto the counter so you can swing your feet as you enjoy the candy, and both heroes perch on either side of you.

It's quiet for a while. It feels like that weird, anticipatory quiet you felt with Uncle J'onny, but you don't know what for, so you wait for one of them to speak. You finish off one whole sucker and open the second one when it happens.

"Mouse?" Clark eventually asks, "can you explain what you meant about your toys? That there are dark spots in there?"

"Yeah," you say, "shadows. Dark spots. Light not touching."

"And you can...feel shadows?"

You hum, thinking it over. "Um...yes. Kind of."

Clark and Diana look at each other again. They're frowning. You frown.

"Can you tell us what you mean by that?" She asks.

"Um. I wanted the carrot, for uncle Clark," you say, "so he can buy it at my groshy store. And the dark spots showed me where it was, and I grabbed it."

"Did they also help you complete the jigsaw puzzle, when you were with J'onn?" Diana asks. "It was quite dark when we got back." You nod.

"Yeah. Easier to do in the dark. It's not cheating!" You blurt. "I didn't cheated!"

"Okay, ya' didn't cheat," Clark agrees, gently patting your back. There's a slight drawl in his words which usually shows up when he's stressed out. "We're just curious, is all, darlin'. Seems you've got a... A special talent, we can call it."

"It's a power. They're a metahuman, Kal," Diana says simply, "and you know Bruce's rule."

The rule? Which one? Always brushing your teeth before bedtime? Or maybe no sweets until you finish your dinner? Hmm, but you haven't had dinner yet. That doesn't make sense.

"No metas in Gotham. I'm very aware, Diana."

"Then you see the problem."

Oh. Now you think you know why uncle J'onny was upset that day.

"Now wait a minute," Clark says. He looks genuinely angry, which confuses you. Did they not like that you could ask the dark for help? They had superpowers, too. You figured they would be happy. "They're his kid."

You are. You're Daddy's little Flittermouse, scampering around and bringing joy. That's what everyone tells you. They love you.

"You've seen how hard he works to keep us out of Gotham," Diana says. "We can be trusted to babysit, but we can't enter the city? What does that tell you?"

"That's different. He's territorial, we all know that. He's not a monster, Diana. He would never hurt them —"

"I'm not saying he is. I'm not saying he would. But I am saying that he doesn't bend his own rules. He does not make exceptions."

Oh.

You sit almost numbly on the counter and watch Clark and Diana start to argue over your place in Gotham. Over your place at home.

You think about Daddy's rule about no metas in Gotham. You think about your new ability to interact with shadows.

Oh.

The lollipop tastes like ash on your tongue and the tips of your fingers feel like tv static. When you blink, your eyes sting as they well up with tears. You've been so good about not throwing fits, about not being a crybaby, about being as strong as your super cool daddy and brothers and grandpa.

But you can't call them that anymore, can you? They don't want metas in Gotham, and that's what you are, now. You can't live with your family anymore.

Large, fat tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You whimper and both Diana and Clark whip their heads around to look at you in shock.

"No, oh no, don't cry," Diana coos, "you don't need to worry. Your father isn't —"

You bat her hands away when she reaches for you and jump off the counter, running underneath Clark's cape. They don't catch on to what you're doing in time.

Clark practically rips it off and fans it on the floor, floating above it with wide eyes. Diana kneels next to the fabric and frantically pats it, searching for you.

But there's nothing. You've fled into the shadow Clark's body cast and allowed the darkness to swallow you.

[missarchive]

ok ok ok!! what about spencer getting head from reader for the first time, and it's her first time doing it, so she's nervous and he teaches her and he has to try sooo hard not to cum immediately because he is just GONE for the innocence with which she does it/tries things out 🤭 you choose what season spence!!

Decided to do one more for tonight!! (I’m feeling generous)

thank you for the request!! im always writing munch!spencer but it's nice to write things the other way round for once

cw; +18 minors dni, inexperienced!reader, tiny bit of dom!spencer if you squint, oral (m. receiving), cum swallowing

When you first kneel before him, his breath catches in his throat, and he’s certain he might lose himself right then and there. The sight of you—so eager, so nervous—renders him utterly helpless. Your hands reach for his belt with a mixture of determination and trepidation, your cheeks flushed a rosy hue that makes you look impossibly innocent yet utterly intoxicating. His jaw slackens as he watches you, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum.

Your wide eyes flicker up to meet his, glinting with excitement and a touch of uncertainty. He’s been dreaming of this moment for what feels like forever, and now that it’s unfolding, every muscle in his body tenses, locked in an unbearable anticipation.

Your fingers fumble with his belt, the clumsy motions endearing rather than frustrating. He doesn’t mind the delay; in fact, it only heightens his awareness of you—of how genuine, how completely you this moment is. He knows this is your first time. Not just with him, but ever. You’d told him, shyly, how you’d researched, how you’d prepared for this, even asking friends for advice. Still, the vulnerability of trying it now, with him, makes his chest tighten.

His hands find their way to your hair, almost of their own volition. The silky strands slip through his fingers like water, grounding him. You haven’t protested, haven’t pulled back, and the faint smile on your lips reassures him that you’re okay with this—more than okay. You glance up at him again, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, and the sight makes his heart stutter.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice rough with emotion. He needs you to be comfortable, to know that he’ll stop the moment you ask.

You pause, your hands stilling, and you smile at him, a gentle curve of your lips that speaks volumes. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

Finally, you manage to undo his pants, your small hand brushing against his erection as you pull down the zipper. He groans at the brief contact, the sound guttural and raw. When your fingers wrap hesitantly around him, his breath hitches, and he can’t stop the way his hips shift forward, seeking more of your touch.

“God,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Your touch is tentative, exploratory, and it sends jolts of pleasure straight to his core.

You look up at him, startled by the intensity of his reaction. “Is that... okay?” you ask, your voice laced with innocence and curiosity.

“It’s more than okay,” he rasps, his hands moving to your shoulders, needing something to hold onto, to anchor himself. “You’re perfect.”

Encouraged, you start to stroke him, your hand sliding up and down his shaft in slow, deliberate movements. He watches you, his gaze locked on the way your small hand moves over him. The sight alone is almost too much.

When your tongue darts out to wet your lips, he groans deeply, his head falling back for a moment as he imagines that mouth on him. The vividness of the fantasy sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through him.

“Baby,” he says, his voice strained, “I’m not going to last much longer like this.”

Your eyes widen slightly, disbelief flickering across your features. He chuckles softly despite himself, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he confesses, his voice heavy with sincerity.

“I just... I’ve never done this before,” you admit shyly, your cheeks flushing deeper. “I don’t want to mess it up.”

“Baby, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he assures you, his hands moving to cradle your face. The warmth of your skin beneath his palms soothes and excites him all at once. “Can I show you?”

You nod, your expression curious, and he takes a steadying breath, his restraint hanging by a thread. Gently, he guides your hand away, needing a moment to compose himself before he completely unravels.

“Like this?” you ask, your voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. The innocent question makes his chest tighten with affection and desire.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Just like that. Only with your mouth.”

His hand moves to the back of your head, not to push or force but to guide. He’s desperate for this but careful, wanting you to feel safe, to enjoy it as much as he knows he will.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he urges, his voice gentle but firm.

“Okay,” you reply, nodding.

When your lips part and touch the tip of his cock, he shudders violently, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat. The wet heat of your mouth surrounds him, and it’s so much better than he ever imagined.

“Fuck,” he whispers, his head falling back as you take him deeper, your tongue flicking against him experimentally. His hands clutch the sheets, desperate for something to hold as his hips jerk involuntarily.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes. “Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” he groans, his voice thick with need. “You’re incredible.”

Bolstered by his praise, you take him in again, this time with more confidence. Your mouth moves over him slowly, tentatively, and the sensation is almost overwhelming.

“God,” he groans, his voice ragged. “I’m going to come.”

His hand returns to your hair, fingers threading through it as he fights the urge to thrust deeper into your mouth. He doesn’t want to push too far, to take too much.

When he finally lets go, the release is overwhelming, a rush of pleasure so intense it leaves him trembling. You stay with him through it, warm spurts of cum painting the back of your throat.

As you pull back, you wipe your mouth with a shy smile, and he reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his heart still racing as he holds you close.

“Was it... good?” you ask, your voice small and uncertain.

“It was amazing,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “You were amazing.”

Your giggle lights up the room, and his chest swells with affection. “I thought I did it wrong at first,” you admit, laughing softly.

“You were perfect,” he assures you, kissing you again. “Better than I ever imagined.”

[heegyukeluv]

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: “How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”  It was Heeseung’s question to you, and you were left with no option other than to show how you do it.

my's note: this is from an old prompt i had. nothing much, just some fluff and highkey desperate (and long) smut... and bestfriends to lovers 🤭i feel like i lost the plot while i was writing it, but yeah! hope y'all enjoy it

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, kinda miscomunication?, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), desperate hee (in many ways lol), hee is sensitive and edges himself, very slooooow and unnecessarily detailed smut, reader is not a virgin but it's her second time!! / lmk if i missed something!

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”

The question lingered in the air longer than Heeseung expected, but he wouldn’t blame you at all.

It was a quiet, calm Saturday afternoon. None of you had work to do or studies to draw your energy. While your back lazily rested on your couch’s armrest with your legs propped up in a triangle, Heeseung was laid on the ground after blaming the couch’s fabric for being too heated for his skin, his head opposite to yours. 

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression. 

“Huh?” You murmured with a frown, trying to figure out if you heard it correctly before diverting your attention from your phone to catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s plain eyes looking up at the ceiling. 

He had shifted his position to a relaxed one with a hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, the quiet motion of up and down following his gentle breathing. It could easily soothe your nerves to watch him serenely exist like that in the world, an opposite to his normally chaotic and teasing demeanor. 

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” Heeseung repeated his question once again, and you were sure now you had heard it right. It didn’t make you less puzzled though. “Like, I think I struggle to recognize what’s just a normal interaction and what’s a flirt.”

Your eyebrows were sky high as you skeptically eyed Heeseung, not believing a single word coming out of his mouth as your body stiffed a little. 

Growing up together as friends was just a quarter of your story with Heeseung.

Your moms were the typical best friends that surprisingly gave birth around the same time, resulting in you and Heeseung becoming as close as siblings due to your families proximity, although the thought of being Heeseung’s sister haunted the depths of your mind terribly nowadays.

Of course you wouldn’t mind being considered in that position when you were younger; Heeseung annoying ass bothering you all the time with the subtle hair pulls under the excuse of trying to grab your attention, or poking your sides to start a little fight that he always won, or the times he simply feigned to go for a whisper as in telling you a secret just to blow air in your ear and elicit a scream from you, were a huge behaviors proof he had somewhat sibling energy.

Your constant smacks on his shoulders and chest, along with your not-so-gentle bites on his arms, and your giggles whenever you pranked him by tossing flour at his direction when cooking together worked well to establish a strong base to that idea.

However, as you both started to grow up, things changed accordingly to your ages.

You were expectedly very comfortable around each other, and the touches once aiming to bother, switched to casual, caring ones, still having a faint of that light-hearted taunt.

Heeseung would often be seen removing an eyelash from your cheek, his fingertips brushing against your skin softly as you kept talking normally.

Or intertwining your hands when going back from school, so you wouldn’t fall whenever you tripped – and you did quite regularly.

Or, when you sat together, Heeseung would make sure to have your thighs resting on his lap so he could settle his warm hands on top of it, casually caressing your skin while watching whatever you choose to. 

It was great and heartwarming to have him like that, taking care of you even with the slightest teasing alongside genuine intentions – Heeseung struggled to demonstrate his feelings openly, so giving you princess-like treatment with a hint of his usual playful banter was his way to show how much he loved you.

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard. 

The little kid who used to follow you around just to annoy had become the taller, handsome, and effortlessly cool teenager, surrounded by friends and making girls squeal over even the slightest interaction with him, leaving you to wonder when everything had changed that much.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to keep being friends with you the way he was before as time passed, but surprisingly he would often be choosing you over the others, such as hanging out during lunch time with you, doing his schoolworks only with you, spending a part of his pocket money with sweets for you and taking you home everyday – you lived near to each other, nonetheless he would always guide you to your door’s porch before kissing your forehead and saying his farewell. 

At some point you realized your body was reacting similarly to how girls who had a crush on Heeseung would describe when he was around; an urge to scream and giggle just because he smiled, heart pounding hard in your chest after watching him slicking back his sweaty hair while playing basketball with the boys, hands trembling with the thought of being alone for too long with him in your room.

You were starting to act awkward, your hormones messing with your head enough to leave you scared as shit, questioning what you and Heeseung were, because the definition of friendship wasn’t making any sense, seemed lacking, insufficient for what you truly, wholeheartedly wanted from Heeseung.

So your most sane decision at the time was to push him towards other girls randomly, sharing how much in love a friend of yours was with him and how worthy, pretty and intelligent she was. Or how the cheerleader’s leader would fit him perfectly and they would become the school’s model couple.

The sting in your heart was tough to deal with when he started to pick up some of your ideas and openly flirt with the said girls, sharing each step with you how friends constantly did, but you would one hundred percent rather to handle the pain of never having Heeseung as your boyfriend than the hurtful thought of losing him for good.

Then Heeseung started dating, and the girl was extremely jealous of your friendship. 

Though you swore she had nothing to worry about, Heeseung, once again, chose you, dumping the girl just a few weeks after because she said bad things about you, added to the fact that she had a list of reasons why he should end the friendship, something Heeseung would never, ever think about doing.

Despite your mind playing tricks after hearing that people could misinterpret the way Heeseung behaved with you – apparently he would be playing with your hair and giving you headpats quite too oftenly, barely keeping his hands away from you –, you tried to maintain things safely where they should be, focusing on getting over your foolish crush on Heeseung and moving on.

Eventually, little by little the so cherished friendship started to teeter the edge that crossed the line of just friends, and the casual moments started to hold a special place inside your chest.

Heeseung made no effort to help you as well, offering big and gorgeous smiles whenever he saw you as if you were everything he wanted. Laughing graciously when you hugged him so you could hear and feel his chest vibrating with it. Doing his silly little dances to cheer you up in the middle of your living room and, mostly, singing songs with his angelical voice for you to sleep during late phone calls. 

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

Was it really that deep?, you would question yourself when your head rested on your pillow at night, the phantom of Heeseung’s presence permeating your room after a game day together, the shared chuckles and teasing prolonging your fast heartbeats as a sweet reminder of your feelings, feelings that you never really managed to bury somewhere else other than on the tip of your tongue, craving for the release you never gave.

The friendship continued the same through the years, or, at least, you both tried to. The emotional bond that tied you two together worked almost perfectly, if you got to keep your voice silenced, if you got to keep the real feelings inside your chest, away from the possible reality.

Heeseung would be eager to share his adventures with you, from the everyday moments, like when he made a shot with his back turned to the hoop and scored, to the more secretive and sexual escapades, the ones you would rather not hear about but had to in order to support your friend spot.

It felt like a punch to the gut when Heeseung talked about his first kiss and the others that followed, each revelation stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't quite shake off, not when you wanted him to be your first kiss as well.

When you both entered college last year, once more things shifted a little.

Heeseung and you began to frequent very different places. While you gravitate towards the quiet spots, such as the library, the coffee shop, or the shade of a tree on campus to read a book in your silent, mellow atmosphere, Heeseung was willing to attend every single party he got to know about, having girls constantly kissing him in front of everyone, caring little to nothing about the talks or if the night would end up in his room.

But he never really committed to anyone.

You wondered what was the reason that held him back, considering the amount of good opportunities he had; the offers were abundant, and the line of admires long to make a curve down the square. Surely he would find the love of his life among that many options, and you had convinced yourself you were far faded from the running.

So, the question felt out of place.

“Are you really gonna try to make me believe that you don’t know when a girl is flirting with you?” You propped yourself on the couch to full face Heeseung, arching an eyebrow. “You? Of all people?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a sigh and a smirk, pushing himself up to sit with crossed his legs, fully aware of what you were referring to. “Don’t even start with this shit.”

You chuckled dryly, struggling to contain the bitter taste dissolving in the depths of your throat, the knot was extremely hard to swallow, to know he had fucked who knows how many girls through his life and you, on the other hand, barely had a boyfriend.

It might sound like envy, but you were just frustrated for not being any of those girls.

“What shit? The ‘last weekend I slept with three girls’ shit?” You faked a deep voice to mimic Heeseung, together with his usual cocky smile before deadpanning into a feigned teasing expression.

The episode happened a few days ago, right when you accidentally eavesdropped on him and his friends chatting while playing video games in your shared living room.

It was the typical boys’ talk that you had no intention of listening to, but unfortunately you had just reached the door’s knot to open it, then each word that came out of Heeseung’s mouth traveled straight into your ears, making your stomach drop in an unexpected pain. 

You rushed to your room, cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes, on the verge of breaking down after hearing what he had said.

Of course you knew Heeseung was sexually active. His room was right next to yours, and though he tried to keep it quiet, the girl he once led in after mistakenly thinking you weren’t home hadn’t bothered to be discreet.

You were fully aware of his private life, the quarter that had you screaming, crying, nearly pulling out your hair and breaking some of your belongings in jealousy because it wasn’t you. 

“Y/N,” Heeseung called out seriously, accidentally bringing you back from your spiral thoughts. “You, more than anyone, know I was joking,” he averted his eyes from you, the prominent area of his cheeks heating as he added. “I literally lost my virginity not even six months ago.”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes, because yes, Heeseung did in fact lose his virginity on that said date, but he never stopped having sex ever since and it annoyed you so fucking much. While you struggled to even kiss a boy, Heeseung was out there living the best of life. Without you.

For years, you thought you hated his behavior because you couldn’t be like him, nonchalant about your crushes as if they were nothing much. You had to literally force your body not to shake when kissing someone, had to hide your sweaty palms and how all your instincts yelled for you to run away when sharing intimacy with someone.

But the actual reality was simpler. You weren’t envious of him. You didn’t want to be like Heeseung.

You wanted Heeseung.

“Whatever you say,” you muttered with a dry chuckle and dropped back on the couch, grabbing your phone to keep scrolling on tiktok, ignoring how hot your face felt after.

Heeseung grunted, his eyes darting towards your face as you absentmindedly watched videos. The boy was oblivious to the real whirlwind happening inside your chest, especially because on his side of the story, he was fighting so fucking hard to contain himself.

Every. Single. Second. 

You were the prettiest girl he ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, with the bestest personality that complemented his own just right, with the most melodic voice and laughter that made his whole world slow down in order to make his breathing ability harder. And he really wished it actually slowed down, to allow him to enjoy and appreciate every passing moment with you even deeper.

Fuck, Heeseung was unable to tell when the butterflies in his stomach started to dance along the beat of your constant presence, but the day you asked if your lipgloss was cute definitely played a big role on it.

Heeseung had a vivid memory of how gorgeous you looked wearing your brand new dress for your fifteenth birthday party, styling your strands with a hair bow and prepping your face with makeup that only accentuated your already beautiful features.

And then you turned on your heels, cheeks painted with a faint blush, big, wide, innocent eyes colored with a soft shade of brown, and your lips, oh, your fucking plump lips with a  shade of a light pink gloss adorning it, screaming for his own mouth to be pressed there.

‘Do I look cute? Does my gloss look cute?’

The question was simple and very common. Heeseung always answered yes to them, because he would always think you were pretty, even when waking up with your puffy face and half-lidded open eyes squinting because of daylight.

But there you were, making Heeseung focus intentionally more on your, now, kissable lips, on your sweet, tempting, fucking gorgeous lips.

Ever since that day Heeseung had to keep you closer to drift his nasty thoughts away.

It was controversial and maybe hypocritical. He should have done the opposite, to avoid you, to keep you as far as possible, but he simply couldn’t, because in that very moment he found himself addicted to you, addicted to the idea of tasting what he had come to crave as his main life goal. 

Having you near meant not dealing with the thought of other guys that had experienced what he longed the most, because with you, everything that filled Heeseung’s mind was the present; your presence, your cheeky smiles, your clingy hugs, your scent, you, as a whole.

It was so fucking tough and hurtful to hear about your little crushes, it fumed his chest with angry flames that spread rapidly, with no sign to have a firefighter strong enough to put the fire out.

You weren’t like him, or at least the part you allowed him to have access didn’t compare to even one percent of what he lived, but Heeseung strongly envied those who had the chance to be the reason behind your shy giggles and blushed cheeks.

Along the chat about flattering boys that stole your heart, you would also ask him why he didn’t date anyone, your curious gaze making him stutter in place. To internally scream and squirm to prevent the words from escaping his mouth – words that would form the sentence that, without a doubt, would change the trajectory of your relationship – was the only suitable option.

It’s your fault, idiot. It’s because none of them are you.

Heeseung always opted to laugh away and give an open answer; ”didn’t find the right one” was his favorite.

In fact, watching you grow up was harder than dealing with some of the questions you threw at him. One moment, you were just the little girl he loved to tease, someone he considered his best friend, and even like the little sister he never had

Heeseung would watch you laugh at his jokes, chase you around scaring you, and protect you from the world when necessary. But then, out of nowhere, you started to change.

You were suddenly a full-grown woman, carrying yourself in a way that left him speechless, not knowing how to react, with boobs and shit.

Ok, that was not exactly what made his life around you harder, nonetheless, it was inevitable the way you physically evolved began to hold a distinct place in Heeseung's mind, blurring his cohesive thoughts with a frightening ease.

Being a teenager while having a hot friend was difficult, no one ever taught him about it.

He felt nasty every time he dared to touch himself while thinking about your body; how your mildly exposed chest, when wearing tight shirts, hinted at what was beneath it. How the soft curves of your belly and hips drew his attention in a way that got his fingertips tingling in craving to hug it, to have it under his touch.

Whenever he achieved his climax, your cute name falling from his lips in a quiet whisper, the following regret flooded his chest within a wave of remorse that he couldn’t control at all. For good minutes he even considered saying sorry to you within a text, without giving a proper explanation, but he would always choose to keep that hidden truth away from your acknowledgment in every instance possible.

Besides his strong, flaming desire, Heeseung loved you with all he had.

You were his best friend, the one and only, the girl who knew his deepest secrets and welcomed them without judgment, that laughed at his stupid jokes and held him closer when he needed comfort.

You knew that when he was a child, he would wet the bed because he had nightmares about clowns. You knew he would eat ramen in the middle of the night, hiding it from his parents and blaming his older brother. You knew that, despite him bragging about his skills, he was terrible at candy crush – and you loved to tease him about it, because who the hell is bad at candy crush?

You didn’t seem to care about his flaws, like the aggressive way he treated things around him when the accumulated stress snapped – never at you, though. Or the fact that he would procrastinate as much as possible to clean his room, to do laundry or wash the dishes. Or that he would always eat while watching TV at maximum volume, and scream loudly while playing league of legends even when late at night.

Heeseung loved you, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep him safely quiet, relentlessly making his body ache for you. What started as the warmth of a deep connection slowly blossomed into something more – more intense, more real, and yet, somehow, delicate, like a fragile flower that could easily be shattered.

Heeseung would treat you like a queen because he thought you deserved to be one, and in the valleys of his heart, he wished for you to let his presence be part of your happiness, to share all the intimate moments, to become a part of your world in a way that was more than just a friend.

So that was the reason Heeseung started this whole thing of asking you about flirting. He was patient, however the urge to be yours and have you completely was swelling not-so-slowly, and he found an unexpected way to maybe drift you both through that invisible boundary line he wished to cross for so long.

There was no actual curiosity behind his question, it was pure and genuine longing and quiet hope for you to, perhaps, reciprocate those confused feelings that only led his heart to decide that he loved you.

And he loved you with his whole soul. 

“Come on,” Heeseung groaned after zoning out, now pushing his body to stand up before taking the seat next to you by scooching your legs away. 

You looked at him over your phone, frowning, your heart still pounding hard in your chest after going thoughtfully over the topic he just brought, pretending to spend your time on the screen when, actually, your head was filled with anxious and fearful thoughts.

Even so, you kept a straight face. 

“What?”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping in something close to defeat and you took your time to move and sit on one of your legs, the other on the ground, casually hanging as you bounced it in order to expel your nervousness.

You didn’t notice your friend had tracked the motion for a quiet second, immediately understanding you had shifted your demeanor in a way he couldn't pinpoint yet, but he had a hunch about it. A suspicion that got his heartbeats notably increasing.

But you saw the exact moment he switched as he gathered the best of his decency to lock eyes with you, guiding the plan forward with excellency.

“Could you, please, for everything we have been through, for our beautiful friendship, and because you love me so, so much, answer my question?”

The drama in Heeseung’s voice was blatant and got you fighting back a grin that threatened to break free. His big-doe eyes flashing you an innocence you wittily figured out as coaxing, added to how he slowly batted his eyelashes, tilting his head only enough to look extra adorable, even curving his bottom lip to pull into a slight pout that had your attention lingering longer than you wanted. 

Once Heeseung learned that his charming eyes were one of your greatest weaknesses, he wasted no time to take advantage of it, oftenly catching you off guard by using his secret weapon to achieve certain goals, offering a soft, yet penetrating gaze that got your knees faltering in place.

He didn’t know with precision what made you so easy to pursue whenever he used that trick, nonetheless it was a big benefit either for simpler favors or big other things, like using your credit card to buy a collector figurine he didn’t have the money to buy during that time.

In that moment, however, Heeseung just wished for you not to catch the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, or the barely contained excitement that danced behind the facade of calmness and fake purity, because he didn’t aim to get something expensive or use your bathroom just to explore your good amount of skincare. 

His only objective was to cross that friendship line, to ruin it, and, if he was lucky enough, have you enjoying it as you both do so.

You pursed your eyelids and then cocked your head to the side, incredulous. “Seriously?” A chuckle echoed from your parted lips, softening your expression to endearing amusement since it pretty much worked all the time, even after you became fully aware of his tactic. “Using bambi-eyes and shit?”

Heeseung nodded with admirable speed, his entire behavior was almost infantile, resembling a shameless child about to get a pricey toy after playing the good kid for his parents, although he definitely did no good. He had a smirk on the very corner of his mouth, and his eyes glossed with complete feigned innocence. 

You damned yourself for being such a sucker for that boy, for allowing him to have that much power over your whole existence. 

And with that, you accepted your fate, your defiance. You had no idea of what was going to happen, let alone what the hell Heeseung wanted to know exactly. Yeah, girls flirting, but in which way? And why?

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, placing your phone away on the side table. Heeseung smiled brightly and shifted on his seat, his whole body now facing you, expectantly. You flashed a hesitant look, cheeks already flaming hot in a strange anticipation, not even bothering to chase for his gaze properly. “What do you wanna know?”

“Ok!” Heeseung nearly buzzed, his body jolting slightly as if electricity ran through it, revealing his excitement. “I’ll repeat the question so it won’t get weird, alright?” 

You allowed your throat to let out a small hum, nodding and eventually daring to glance up for a little, meeting the view of Heeseung's eyes beaming with something close to thrilling and mischievous.

A cold, yet silent shiver ran through your torso and you had to control yourself not to tremble when he glazed his gaze with yours, in a magnetic manner that left you with nothing but the necessity to oblige.

Though you had heard them quite a lot from the past few minutes, the following words didn’t ease your heart to weigh less; the amount of times wasn’t enough to get used to how they sounded to you.

“How do I know a girl is flirting with me?”

The air felt extremely thick, rarefied even, as if you were up on the clouds, out from any equipment of protection as you body travelled near to get out from the atmosphere, heavy in your lungs. 

Heeseung struggled to read your reaction at first. Silence. Pure lack of sounds, only a blank and slightly confused expression facing him.

It wasn’t like he was fully expecting you to partake in his idea, even though he planned to account for every possible outcome variant to achieve at least a fraction of his goal.

And yet, he didn’t have a clear objective. Perhaps he simply wanted to plant a seed of hope, mixed with a ‘what if?’, hoping you would realize his feelings ran far deeper than just friendship. And, if luck was on his side, that you might reciprocate – or at least begin to entertain the possibility.

He wanted to ruin that friendship, because he believed you could – no, should – be lovers instead.

You gulped down the lump forming in your neck, praying for some god to help you to release your nerves as soon as possible, otherwise the possibility of having a heart attack wouldn’t just be a fantasy; it would be a reality.

Although every cell in your body seemed to resonate with joy to step onto that untraveled road of your friendship, you couldn’t help the urge to run, to escape, to get away from that topic and move on with your life. 

For sure you both had conversations about similar concepts, but nothing close to personal-sexual subjects. Nothing similar to Heeseung asking you directly how flirting happens. 

“I think…” You sighed, fidgeting with the rings in your fingers. “It depends on the person…”

That reply was more open than Heeseung wanted, however, he didn’t press. 

Your tone was thoughtful, your gaze drifting to a random spot on the wall behind Heeseung and then you frowned, trying to recall how your other girl friends behaved whenever their crushes were nearby to give him a proper answer.

Heeseung studied your beautiful features intently, momentarily losing sight of his original purpose; his focus hovered longer on your lips, the same ones that taunted his self-control every single day, the same ones he dreamed about having attached to his own, the same ones he nearly said ‘fuck it’ and kissed.

Instead, keeping the natural and respectful approach and also using your words, he rephrased his question, bold and curious to explore furthermore.

“How do you flirt, then?”

You blinked your blurred, distant eyes back to Heeseung, widening them once you noticed not a single hint of hesitation within his speech, not even a drop of wavering as he held eye contact. Your furrowed eyebrows showed deep uncertainty, and Heeseung added, struggling a bit to sound firm, gesticulating with his nervous hands.

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

It hadn’t clarified anything. In fact, it only made everything more doubtable and chaotic, eliciting a tilt of your head and an even deeper frown.

What on earth was he talking about? Out of nowhere? With no precise context whatsoever? You hadn’t bought into his questioning from the start, especially because of how charming that guy in front of you could easily be, no shame at all. And now this – completely sudden and utterly unsubtle.

Heeseung hadn’t laid the groundwork before dropping this delicate bombshell in your lap.

“How do I flirt?” You retorted, emphasizing and pointing to yourself, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like,” he shrugged, as if it was just a normal question to make to your best friend. “How do you normally flirt with your crushes?” 

You shook your head, your hands freezing in the air, your spinning head barely catching the mocking tone when Heeseung said crushes.  “No, like, I got that part,” you clutched your fists, narrowing your eyes, lips suddenly drying. “But…”

The tension clung in the silence and you could feel your heart ringing in your ears, almost ripping out from your rib cage. Your hands slowly dropped to your lap, resting there as you tried to find a recompose path out of that situation.

“But…?” Heeseung prodded, leaning ever so slightly closer, his curiosity palpable as much as his boldness.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” You blurted out, struggling to understand the whole picture, a blend of dread and excitement swirling in your stomach that you failed to contain.

Heeseung’s breath rigged, apprehension heavy in his voice, afterall, that simple interaction had the strength, the weight of changing things between you two for good – and he was painfully aware of it. 

“It’s not like, flirt flirt,” he attempted to clarify himself, though it was clear he was growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. “I just wanna see how girls do it. And you’re a girl, as far as I know.” 

Heeseung was trying to sound nonchalant, to ease the tense air with his remarkable teasing smirk, as casual as ever, but the atmosphere had noticeably shifted and you weren’t sure about your thought process during that moment. 

You grabbed one of the couch’s pillows behind you and threw over him, both of you sharing a laugh that seemed a bit too forced to be real.

A rush of heat crept up your neck as you silently fumbled for the right words when the playful banter settled, leaving room for the reality of Heeseung requesting you to purposely flirt with him.

You also grasped with caution the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your figure, how it followed the movement of your teeth pressing on your bottom lip, how he mirrored your decision to wet the area with the tip of your tongue as well, drawing your attention towards his own attractive lips, planting, in your mind, a dangerous seed that had you considering a deeper, promiscuous touch. 

The whole moment felt like walking a tightrope in high heels and you were terrified of what might happen if you stumbled. Your friendship was too precious for you to lose it over a stupid mistake. But, God, why did it feel so tempting to surrender to it?

Heeseung looked at you with adoration and eagerness, his body surprisingly relaxed, or at least you read it like that, as if the scenery was as simple as one plus one, as though he had everything under control.

Little did you know he was extremely, ridiculously, intensely anxious of what cost he would have to be paying in order to not destroy everything. If you paid close attention, you would probably see his gray shirt moving to the strong beats of his heart, loud enough to make him wonder if he was going to survive the outcome.

Another sigh trailed off your mouth as you scratched the back of your neck, clearly torn between the open choices in front of you. You could easily opt to ignore that and shove Heeseung away with some joke, or perhaps answer his question without thinking too intensely about it; you could fake it, hiding your real feelings in a dialogue made up from your head. 

Or you could let your friendship fade into the depths of your lustful desire of having Heeseung for yourself as a whole man, shameless flirting with him the way you always wanted to. 

And then, it clicked. He was offering you the perfect opportunity, the perfect project to subtly guide your decisions, all while pushing you towards the inevitable conclusion: you were about to ruin that friendship.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath to yourself, and right after your sharp, determined gaze met his, leaving no chance for any possible retort. “I think we need to fantasize a scenario, then.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the shift in tone but too intrigued to ask questions. “Why?” he smirked, leaning in slightly. “Does the scenario where you flirt with your best friend in your living room not quite match the vibe?”

You forced an exaggerated look of disgust, but it was more for show than anything else. Neither of you was fooled by your performance. “No, it doesn’t.”

Heeseung chuckled, the tension slowly melting between you two. But even as the laughter filled the air, the uncertainty of what was coming next buzzed in the back of your mind, tempting you to run. Yet, your heart, much to a surprise, was urging you to stay, to follow this dangerous path wherever it might lead.

“Ok. So let's just picture we're in a club–” Heeseung started, straightening his posture. 

“I don't go to clubs.” You quickly deadpanned, eliciting a small “oh” from him.

“Right.” He agreed, frowning while trying to think of another situation. “So…”

You sighed in defeat, biting your lip briefly before saying. 

“I'm your classmate and I have a huge crush on you…?” You blurted out in one breath, yet hesitant, feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment.

Especially because the said scenario had already played out before, making it easier to go along with – or worse, making it feel way too realistic.

“Nice! That's a good one.” Heeseung replied, his voice carrying a cheerful tone that had you scrunching your nose at his obliviousness, though it wasn’t entirely his fault that you were harboring bottled-up feelings for him. “So what would you do?”

You toyed with your bottom lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth as you tried to quell your nerves, all while struggling to ignore the way your friend sounded urgent, excited, and unmistakably eager. It was as if the entire script had been meticulously crafted long ago. As if he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to flirt with him and walk past the friends line.

Dangerously close.

Before you voiced out, you cleared your throat not to waver on your words. “So, since we're classmates, we'd probably see each other everyday...”

Heeseung nodded, his bambi-eyes following your every movement as you shifted on your seat slightly. “Yeah.”

“As a girl with a crush on you, I'd try my best to stand out somehow and grab your attention first. And the most common way is…” You paused, casting a wary glance towards Heeseung, as though your next words carried a weight too immense to risk uttering lightly. “Eye contact?”

After some time, locking eyes with Heeseung became an increasingly challenging task because it meant having the opportunity to take in every detail of his impossibly attractive face.

The faint mole on his forehead and the ones near his nose were like tiny stars adorning a beautiful sky; that very nose that made you want to squeal from how adorable and rounded its tip was, all while provoking thoughts far too indecent to entertain.

His constant parted lips carried an unique charm, naturally inviting with their slightly reddish hue. At times, they took on a deeper tone, whether from the way Heeseung pressed them together whenever he entered the deep concentration state or nibbled at them to suppress a laugh after teasing you.

If you dared let your gaze wander further, you would notice the sharp point of his chin and, just below it, his prominent Adam’s apple – a mesmerizing detail you never imagined could have such an effect on you. The subtle movement of it bobbing up and down held your focus captive as though it had the power to dictate your every subsequent action.

A sigh slipped from your lips before you even realized the silence that had overtaken you, nor the way Heeseung, with his warm brown eyes, oozed affection and attentiveness your way.

“You’re not making eye contact…” Despite his observation, there wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his tone. It was soft, like a summer breeze brushing against your skin, gentle yet impactful enough to make your eyes widen as you leaned back in surprise.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you had unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Sorry,” you muttered after clearing your throat, redirecting your gaze to a random spot in Heeseung’s lap. Yet, contrary to what you expected, he shifted forward, closing the distance further, his knees nearly brushing against yours.

You looked up at him, confusion and apprehension flickering in your expression, ready to ask why he was coming so close, but he left no room for your question.

“Does the proximity of the girl interfere with flirting?”

His tone was low, soft even, each word drawn out with deliberate care. It carried a designed tenderness that nudged the borders of unexplored intimacy between the two of you, crafted perfectly to unbalance your soul.

Breathing became difficult as your heart raced, your body begging you to flee.

“N–normally, it’s not this close.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but how could you not? How could you remain composed when Heeseung’s voice carried an intimacy you had never heard before? You had never seen this side of him, never had him like this.

Your gaze latched onto the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each deliberate blink, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the way his breath mingled with yours as he leaned impossibly closer.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips in a silent, daring plea to let actions replace words. “Then why are you this close?”

You desperately tried to come up with a coherent response, perhaps to point out that it was he who had closed the gap. But your mind had abandoned rationality, leaving you to stumble over a weak, “B–Because you sat there, you idiot.”

You broke eye contact abruptly, reality crashing over you like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of the moment urged you to shift away, to reclaim your space and calm the chaos in your chest.

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

With surprising swiftness, he shifted his body upright and gently pulled your arm so you could get onto his lap, his hands holding you firmly yet carefully in place.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head softly as his voice dropped an octave, steady and soothing, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “I want to know how girls flirt when they’re this close.”

You found yourself awkwardly sitting sideways on his lap, blinking in confusion, hesitation etched into every line of your expression. All you could manage was a whispered “What?” that answered or replied nothing at all, it simply materialized into words something that reflected your genuine state.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung leaned in even closer, the heat of his body melding with yours like he was a powerful devil coming from the gates of Hell. His gaze, now tinged with something more potent that torn in between desire, yearning and  an unspoken question, stirred something wild within you.

And for a fleeting moment he hesitated, the weight of the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper making him pause and analyze his possibilities, the small shift on his gaze betraying him. But as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his resolve solidified.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words as soft as the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, leaving you breathless, lips parted, and trembling. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” he added, his voice feather-light, his warm breath caressing your skin. “But I couldn’t think of another way to put us in this exact moment.”

Your body froze, your mind unable to fully process what was happening. One moment, Heeseung was your charming best friend who eventually became your lifelong crush, the next you were on his lap, in a compromising position and with your faces inches apart.

You were suffocating in the heavy atmosphere, unsure of how to respond to the rush of emotions crashing over you; it left you in a state of emotional overload, in shock, utterly overwhelmed.

And then, with a softness that cracked the air between you, that broke your tensed nerves and fluttered your chest, you saw his eyes falter, waiting for a sign, a proper answer for his following question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining space yourself, your lips meeting in a collision of longing, and, so far, unspoken feelings that were buried deep in both of your souls, now lingering in the atmosphere as a quiet, yet delectable high voltage cursing over your body that you struggled deliciously to drift through. 

Torn in a conflict of decisions and a mutual desire, you had finally tasted what had been tempting you for so long. The softness, the warmth, the way Heeseung’s lips fit so perfectly against yours, tailored to match you as if they were meant to be.

Crossed everything you had imagined, now buzzing like a soft echo of reminiscences from when kissing Heeseung equated to a fever dream, to impossible, unattainable. 

Your body seemed to float in contact to soft clouds that gently embraced you; and then you realized that it was Heeseung holding you tenderly, kindly tracing the curves of your waist in a position that, now, was anything but comfortable.

Even so, the world outside felt like it didn't exist anymore. There was only the two of you, kissing with your breaths mingling intimately, with quiet sounds of contentment slipping out between that touch, one you had longed for far too long to waste the seconds that followed.

You deepened it, seeking Heeseung's tongue with yours almost desperately. The shock of the encounter of the two warm muscles was intoxicating, leaving you completely weak, and had you not been sitting, you would have easily fallen to the ground.

Kissing Heeseung at that moment felt like a relief. Relief in knowing that you were both on the same page when it came to the shared connection. Relief in realizing that his mouth desired you as much as yours craved his.

It was comforting to acknowledge how your body fit into his, in every possible way.

And it was then that you became aware of how your hands had automatically found their way into the soft strands of Heeseung's hair, pulling him just enough to draw the small grunts he released each time you did.

Your heart skipped a beat when Heeseung pulled away, tugging your lower lip with a soft bite. You opened your eyes slightly to search for an answer, fearing that regret had hit him like a powerful, striking bolt, but the truth was: he just needed to breathe in order to stay grounded and aware of what had just happened.

Shit. He was completely fucked, because now he knew how incredible it was to hear your breath hitch, to feel your fingers glide across his goosebumped skin with a tender, tempting touch, almost filthy, as your mouths melded together in an unprecedented rhythm.

He knew what it was like to have you intimately, and losing that feeling started to be his most intense fear.

Heeseung hadn't noticed, but there was a faint frown on his forehead that stirred conflicting emotions in you. He breathed heavily, almost panting while searching for air in his lungs. His eyes lowered, hypnotized by your parted lips, which willingly offered themselves to him.

It felt like a sweet indulgence, completely exposed, like someone on a strict diet, almost forbidden from indulging in the delicious taste of your mouth.

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder. “What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

Your hooded eyes tried to pull an explanation for why he had stopped so suddenly.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound deep enough to make you shiver inside, sending a strange energy straight to between your thighs that made you unconsciously clench your legs, as your panties started to damp.

Heeseung’s hand, resting there, immediately noticed, making him smirk and lift his gaze. “You,” he sealed his lips with yours, “are unreal,” followed by another small kiss and, once again, a pause to admire you.

Heeseung looked at you with passion and tenderness, but mostly with desire. He wanted you.

No. 

He needed you.

You swallowed hard as you met his piercing gaze before he stood up, making you rise with him. Standing, he grabbed you by the waist and, still smiling, kissed the corner of your lips without any proper explanation. 

Your hands felt awkwardly frozen in mid-air, near Heeseung’s chest, as if you forgot how to function as a human being. To ease your visible tension and also taking some advantage of the moment, Heeseung lowered his mouth and planted a sweet trail of small, wet kisses down to your neck.

Your head immediately tilted to the side, almost as if he had typed the right password to gain free access to explore your body,  his large hands cupping your ass with just the right balance of respect and desire. While you allowed him this closeness, he was careful not to overstep, not when you both had only just begun to unravel that delicate part of your... friendship?

Gradually, you let yourself go, questioning less and following the flow deliberately; your hands now resting on Heeseung’s broad shoulders while he continued his project of driving you insane with his kisses.

“Hee…” You sighed softly when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, too sensitive to keep you quiet, weak enough to make your knees nearly give way involuntarily.

“Don’t call me like that, baby…” Heeseung murmured softly against your skin, the vibration of his voice aligning with the tremor in your core, the endearment compelling you to clutch your eyes closed. Before you could even think of apologizing, he continued. “Or else I’ll get harder. And this fucking boner is already annoying me.”

For a brief, considerable second, you couldn’t comprehend his statement, your eyes opening in pure confusion as you stared at him, silently asking for an explanation. But Heeseung remained hidden in your neck, and you could even feel the ghost of his mischievous smile tracing your skin, rendering your mind incapable of thinking about anything other than his inebriating presence.

Then, he thrusted forward, just enough to press his hips against your body while gripping your waist to prevent you from stumbling back, and you felt it.

The layers of fabric between you two did nothing to mask the clarity of his intentions, not when he subtly, but unmistakably, demonstrated what he was referring to – a bulge sufficiently big to elicit a jolt of a quiver through your being, firm and clearly starting to grow painfully hard as Heeseung began to repeat that move.

So you had that effect on him? You turned him on? That was an unexpected delight. The warmth of it made you squirm in sudden discomfort, wishing you could feel it in a different way – one with fewer clothes.

Heeseung’s lascivious kisses on your neck switched to sloppy-messy ones, merging with the subtle grind of his hips against yours as he seeked for the smallest release to his thirst. The sensation made you let out a soft, almost teasing moan, provoking his restraint to the brim.

“Fuck…” he groaned, faltering by the way you were letting him grind shamelessly like a dog in heat, still fully clothed. “Tell me to stop, please..." His voice was ragged, like an aching, shaky plea that made his movements halt, since his focus turned inward in order to find some self-control.

But didn’t give such a command. Instead, you opened the door, not-so-silently inviting Heeseung deeper into the moment, into you. You couldn’t care less about your friendship, not when you craved to have your said best friend touching you intimately, to have his length twitching inside you while fucking your senses out of you as if his life depended on it.

You shook your head, a sly smile curving your lips when you whispered right in his ear. 

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

His desperation thickened as he surrendered to the overwhelming warmth between you two, a vocal groan cursing through his throat when he maneuvered easily your body by grabbing your thighs, inciting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he busied his mouth in yours, messily guiding both of you to the your room. 

You found support on his shoulders and giggled in between the sloppy kiss, but you couldn’t quite enjoy the feeling of his strong grip surrounding your body with precision for too long, as your back quickly reached the soft mattress of your bed.

Heeseung's big figure towered over you, scooching up as a way to help you both find a comfortable position until your head was touching one of your pillows, lips still attached to each other in pure hunger.

You wondered if putting your feelings into words would add to the moment, but nothing truly needed to be said. The unspoken tension you shared with Heeseung had carried your relationship this far – this wasn’t the time to disrupt it with confessions of the obvious. Not when you had him kissing you so intensely, so voraciously, as though he were utterly parched and you were his only source of relief.

It felt exhilarating to have Heeseung this needy, his body reacting to every subtle motion of yours. You rolled your hips gently against his, seeking mutual friction in a desperate bid for release.

Your fingers wandered through his disheveled hair, occasionally trailing down his subtly muscular arms – the very arms that had always been your weakness.

Heeseung wasn’t bulky or overly built, but he had a lean, breathtaking frame, with just the right amount of definition in certain places. Supporting his weight on the bed, you could feel the tension in his arms under your touch, muscles tightening even more each time your hands dared to drift lower, grazing his back, your nails lightly scratching.

The slight scrape drew delicious sighs from him, each one lost in the fervor of your kiss.

Heeseung’s free hand explored wherever it could reach, teasingly brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, as though waiting for your silent permission to go further. And you took your cue right away.

“Hee…” you broke the intense, breath-stealing kiss to murmur his name, your voice soft, your eyes barely open as the world around you seemed heavier, hotter.

He reacted instantly to the familiar nickname, though now it carried a filthy weight that would linger with him forever. His hips pressed against yours in a motion that sent a shockwave through your core, the direct contact of his pelvis with yours setting you alight.

Lifting his gaze to meet yours, he found pure, unrestrained lust staring back at him. The words that followed made him falter, disbelief flashing across his features at the reality of what he had craved for so long finally coming true.

“I want you,” you whispered, eyes tenderly, yet oozing with desire looking at his brown orbs.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his expression shifting to something taut, focused. He studied you with care, searching for hesitation, for any trace of doubt in your plea. But he found none, only mutual desire, raw and unfiltered.

A breath of laughter escaped him, quiet and disbelieving, as his lips, swollen and glistening with your shared kisses, curved into a cheeky, yet content and relieved, smile.

“Don’t laugh…” You whined, squirming beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape his teasing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his voice low, gravelly, making you shiver. “It’s just… This feels like a dream.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you failed to hold back a smile. “So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Every single day, Y/N,” Heeseung admitted, his eyes dropping to your lips once again, heavy with yearning, with need. 

He looked intoxicated, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, he felt as though his body had transcended reality itself. Because even in his dreams, he never imagined having you like this – so real, so wholly his.

“Tell me that again…” A delicate plea. “Please,” a desperate beg.

“What?” You whispered back in confusion, your eyelids feeling heavy with the proximity of the moment, making it difficult to keep admiring the tempting view of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

“That you want me.”

Heeseung’s perfume had taken over you, invading your senses completely like a flood, and you were the one feeling drunk right now, as a deep goosebump ran through your spine hearing – understanding – his request.

“I want you,” you repeated, your voice trembling with the weight of confessing something so intrinsic. 

Heeseung's breath mingled with yours, shaky, weak; the warmth of it ghosting over your lips as he hovered above you was making you dizzy. His gaze burned into yours, holding a quarter of darkness and contrastingly tenderness that matched his impossibly gentle touch on your waist. 

He moved deliberately, savoring the anticipation building up quite fast, stirring an ache that got your stomach bubbling with expectation and a weird anxiety. You tightened your grip on his hair when the tip of his cute nose brushed against yours and his reddened lips grazed over your mouth.

“Again, please,” he murmured in a husky whisper; due to the closeness, the movement tickled the skin of your lips and spurred you to lick the area, your tongue caressing both your swollen lips.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

You could feel your core pulsing in need, your skin prickling due to the insufferable tension that grew stronger, ticker, teetering the unbearable within each second, making you wonder how longer you would be able to hold yourself back. 

The magnetic tension surrounding you two made every breath feel like a desperate beg, igniting a hunger within you so fierce it consumed you.

Felt like the last thing you would ever crave in your life was right before you. But apparently, Heeseung longed to hear you speak a little more before taking any action.

“I want you, Hee,” you said again, quieter this time, though your tone was no less intense – it was even more raw.

Heeseung’s lashes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing the confession like it was his lifeline. He repeated the motion of rubbing his nose on yours, now tilting his head to the side and groaning. That couldn't be real. You couldn’t be real.

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

“One more, please…” he pleaded, the words slipping out between deep, controlled breaths that did nothing to mask the tremor of desperation in his tone.

“I need you, Heeseung.”

His forehead pressed lightly against yours as he exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of restraint. The charged air between you seemed to thicken, wrapping you both in an intoxicating haze.

Despite the tenderness of the moment, the desire simmering beneath the surface was undeniable – present in the way his hands traced delicate patterns along your waist, in the way his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of yours, in the way his lips hovered, so close yet so agonizingly distant.

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

Followed by a passionate kiss, one he tried to take his time to appreciate your taste, he also held the waistband of your shorts and, after your silent nod amidst the clash of your mouths when he hesitated, he began to move it down to your thighs, revealing the softness of your bare skin to his curious hands. 

Thick fingers brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the thin barrier of your panties doing little to dull the sensation. The whimper that followed barely met the real world, swallowed whole by Heeseung’s eager mouth as he drank in your expressive, delicate reactions, savoring every trembling note like a melody meant only for him.

“So wet.” Heeseung stated the obvious after feeling your arousal sticking across the fabric, playfully tapping just to tease and feel its viscosity.

If the room was quiet enough, he would be able to hear the wet sound of his pats. 

He dived into your neck since he couldn’t keep up with the pace of the shared kiss, not when you were letting out such beautiful noises as he pressed his fingers on your entrance over your clothing piece, taunting that release that seemed far to reach.

“Hee–” You whined in frustration, swinging your hips towards Heeseung’s fleeting touches as well as tightening your grasp on his locks.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, deep and low. You pouted when he flashed you a charming smirk, matching perfectly with his amused, yet playful eyes. “Let me take care of you, mhm?”

And with that, Heeseung made quick work of removing the rest of your clothing, still caught around your thighs, panties included. He bit his lip, a soft sigh escaping alongside a subtle furrow of his brow in delight as he took in the full view of your pussy, glistening with your wetness – all caused by him. 

You wanted to close your legs and hide, but he held you open and exposed to his sight. Heeseung could feel his stomach fluttering, tightening with sparkling expectation. 

Beneath the teasing slowness of his movements, there was a Heeseung teetering dangerously close to the edge of insanity, warring to find some self-control. And it was entirely your fault.

The effect you had on Heeseung was nothing short of surreal. Even the simple act of your consent, given with every piece of fabric he slid away from your body, only served to fuel the fire within his desire, leaving his body, mind, soul, everything he had drunk on the sheer anticipation of what was to come.

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

The compliment was common – Heeseung always praised your good looks. But the endearment slipped past his lips with extra ease, as if calling you baby – his baby – was as natural as a heartbeat, as expected as blossoming flowers during spring. 

By the way your cheeks warmed, you could tell your entire face was betraying your shyness, especially when Heeseung offered you a genuine, content smile, as if he were expressly happy that you had allowed him to see you in this form.

He still hadn’t unclasped your bra and had only removed his own shirt, dragging out painfully the moment of leaving you both naked.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help the small flicker of worry, a strong fear of disappointing Heeseung.

You had only had sex once in your life, with an ex-boyfriend you had trusted enough to take that step, believing that being in a relationship would make it less hurtful and more enjoyable. You were wrong.

Not only had you suffered physically from his lack of care, but you hadn’t even come close to reaching your own orgasm.

Heeseung knew the rough outline of that story. He was aware that you weren’t a virgin anymore but hadn’t asked for too many details. Partly because he hated the thought of someone else being the one to take that from you.

A pang of jealousy lingered, even though, at the time – just a few months ago – he hadn’t seriously considered taking such a step with you.

It was only after your breakup, and the frustration that radiated off you, that Heeseung decided to act. He couldn’t stand the idea of you putting yourself down, settling for men who gave you less than the bare minimum, when he was right there, longing to give you the world.

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

Your soft request came accompanied by a gentle caress over Heeseung’s slightly flustered cheeks, his lovingly expression hiding the inner battle he was fighting to keep himself composed.

He gave a small nod, standing up from the bed to remove the last of his clothes, granting you the sinful sight of his body, a thin sheen of sweat accentuating the bronzed tone of his skin. Your gaze dropped slowly towards his erection, standing stiff, flushed, with the tip in a darker shade, glistening with leaking precum. 

“Hot,” you murmured quietly, the word barely leaving your lips. But in the stillness of the room, Heeseung heard it.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, shy and uncharacteristic – a glimpse of the awkward, reserved side of your friend that you loved teasing, the side that wasn’t used to receiving compliments and always got adorably flustered when they came.

You giggled, beckoning him with a curl of your finger. “Come here, hmm?”

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

In an instant, he reclaimed his place over your body, his mouth finding its way to the smoothness of your chest, lips grazing and tasting your skin. His hands slid behind your back, intent on finally removing the last piece of fabric that kept you hidden from him, and it took less than seconds for you to whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you felt Heeseung gently nip at your nipple.

“Hurry up,” you muttered within a squirm. “Please, Hee. I need you inside me."

You were quick and precise in expressing your desire, your contorted expression of pleasure blended with frustration making it clear that you didn’t want any more delays, especially since he had already dragged things out too much, and you were about to crawl the walls around you to feel him properly.

“Condom?” He murmured against your skin, smiling slightly at your desperation, though he was just as bad, if not worse.

“I don’t have it,” you moaned as he bit your stomach while lowering his hot, wet kisses. Your hands tried to find support in anything – the sheets, his hair, his shoulders – in order to ground yourself, while Heeseung seemed too calm for his own good. “But we don’t need it.”

Immediately, Heeseung froze. He stopped and lifted his gaze, scanning your face for any trace of teasing or hesitation in your words, half-expecting you to be joking or playing around, but instead, all he found was the raw, unfiltered desire of your soul exposed before him.

“I trust you,” you whispered in between your heavy breaths, a soft smile tugging at your lips that countered any remnant doubt resting inside Heeseung. You gently caressed his cheek, pulling him back to you, your eyes locking in a quiet promise that only you two knew the meaning. “I trust you, Hee.”

That was the tipping point. You, who had been wondering how Heeseung maintained such control, watched as his tender nearly relaxed gaze vanished entirely, swallowed by a wave of desire, as if pure lust had consumed his state completely.

“Don’t say that, love,” a murmur. His voice trembled, just as his arms struggled to hold himself still. He then kissed you intensely, shutting down any possibility of you retorting the pet name, barely giving you time to recognize how your heart skipped a beat.

Heeseung’s hips shifted in the precise motion to bring you closer, to claim you. You shivered.

“I’m going insane, you have no fucking idea.”

Though the choice of words said behind gritted teeth, it was clear Heeseung gravitated towards vulnerability rather than anything harsh; he sounded unsteady, but not in a worrying way. It seemed as if he had surrendered completely to your existence, almost like a personal devotion.

His soft, now familiar lips found home on yours again, pulling you into a singular kiss filled with unspoken emotions, while one of Heeseung's hands gently caressed your waist to keep you still, beginning to position his hardness against your aching hole.

Feeling the distinct pressure in that area generated an unconscious and uncontrollable tension in you, your shoulders stiffening, your hands gripping Heeseung's arms immediately and your mouth stopping properly working as the fear of the pain that would follow from that simple action started to creep up your spine.

“What's wrong, love?” Heeseung asked kindly, pausing his movements as he noticed the sudden rigidity in your body; he had only inserted the tip, and you had become completely tense.

“N–Nothing…” You shook your head, your eyes clenched closed as you tried to regulate your heartbeat and breaths. So far, there was no burning sensation where Heeseung had placed himself, but still, you were afraid.

By any means he was big, you had gotten a beautiful view of him just a few minutes ago, and although your mouth watered to have him fully inside you, there was a lingering feeling that held your soothness back.

“Baby…” Heeseung murmured softly, his voice carrying a subtle insistence as he sensed the clear discomfort and the blatant lie in your response, his concerned eyes searching for any hint of truth in your contorted expression.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted, refusing to open your eyes, the weight of vulnerability overwhelming you.

“For what?” He asked, a small trace of confusion in his voice, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he offered you the choice to end it without guilt or hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurted, snapping your eyes open, your pupils wide and searching his face. Your head shook vehemently, your hands gripping his shoulders in a reflexive act of urgency as well as your legs, wrapping around his waist to keep him in place.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Heeseung adjusted his body slightly, his movements deliberate and tender, ensuring he wouldn’t press into you too forcefully. He kept his tip brushing against your folds, the sensation teasingly close but never quite crossing the threshold. He silently made the decision not to push you further unless you signaled otherwise.

“It’s just…” You exhaled shakily, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “I’ve never– I mean, I did have sex once, but it was so painful, and it hurt so much, and I didn’t even… Y’know…”

You spoke in a flurry, your words tumbling out in a nervous rush, and through it, Heeseung caught the part of the story you had kept hidden and he never dared to ask about. His heart clenched, it became clear that this was a truth that now needed care.

“He wasn’t even that big, but it hurt because he didn’t care about me, and–”

“My love.” Heeseung interrupted, his voice breaking through with a soft, comforting tone. You stopped speaking instantly, blinking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that held so much unspoken trust. He smiled warmly, a reassuring tenderness in his touch. “I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice firm with sincerity. “And I’d never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, needy, desperate even. “I’m just… afraid.”

“We can take it slow, love,” he said, his words a mutual understanding between you both, the promise of patience in his voice.

He slowly began to press his tip into you again, the sensation soft but insistent, giving you time to adjust. You swallowed thickly, your breath hitching as you tried to calm the anxiety racing through you.

There were sounds threatening to escape your throat that you couldn't properly control, so you just let them out.

“Relax, alright? It’s me. I’m your best friend. I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop whenever you want.”

Through reassuring phrases and tender kisses planted over your face – and mainly on your parted lips –, Heeseung deliberately entered you whole, until his dick was being hugged by your clenching walls and his pelvis fully met your body.

You took a deep breath several times. The sensation was uncomfortable, strange; there was an intruder inside you, and you couldn't quite enjoy the so-called pleasure during sex due to it, but as the long seconds passed and your body relaxed, you began to adjust to the weight of Heeseung's length inside you.

And finally you noticed that Heeseung himself had buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing as heavy as you, completely frozen in place.

“Hee?” You called and gave a soft stroke to his hair. 

“Give me a minute,” the words came rapidly and slurred, like an incomprehensible mumble.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to find his face to read whatever was happening.

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung groaned. “Yes. It’s just…” He gulped, clutching his eyes closed and grunting a curse, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Fuck—You feel amazing, baby.” His breath hitched as his body tensed, muscles flexing under the strain of trying to hold back. “I need a minute.”

“Alright…” 

Although you couldn’t understand why, you just… Waited. But he made sure to add.

“So fucking tight–” Something about how desperate and lost he sounded close to your ear had your walls clenching even more. “I can’t– I don’t wanna cum right now.”

There was no plausible explanation for the flutter in your chest, let alone the heat that spread across every inch of your skin, hitting your core in a way that was almost overwhelming after hearing his confession.

Knowing that Heeseung was physically unable to move, simply because his release was so close – practically edging himself – made you feel more thrilled than you would ever admit out loud.

As the best of friends – after all, you hadn’t defined your relationship yet –, you chose the path of teasing, letting out a light giggle and giving a playful tap on his back as you said, “Take your time, big boy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Heeseung chuckled, though the sound was tinged with frustration and craving, the weight of his restraint still palpable.

Throughout the heated makeout moment, he was already far too affected – though he wouldn’t admit it now, having your lips against his had been more than enough to leave him ridiculously hard. The shameless grinding had teased his sensitivity with just the right intensity, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Now, finally experiencing the tightness of your pussy enveloping around his cock, it was a unique kind of downfall that made his control slip past his fingers, his entire body shivering as trying to contain himself. 

“I wanna– I wanna last longer for you,” a breathy, shaky moan escaped when he tried to move, pulling back just a little to shove back again. “Fuck baby…”

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

He couldn’t find the right explanation to how good your wet, warm interior welcomed him in an addictive sensation of fulfillment, as if he had found the exact place he needed and wanted to be.

However, as he began to set a slow, tantalizing rhythm, not only to himself but for you not to feel any pain, your soft, breathy noises became the driving force behind his every move.

Each sound you made was like music to his ears, embedding itself deeply in his mind and shaping his every decision; they spurred him on, a motivator to remain as steady and deliberate as possible, even as his own restraint threatened to crumble.

Heeseung was vividly avoiding to fall into the depths of his true needs of egoisticaly fucking you hard and fast.

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

A guttural groan was Heeseung’s immediate response, primal and unrestrained, as if your request alone had sent him reeling like a starving hunter finally closing in on its prey.

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of your words settle between the thick air and then shifted the pace, growing more intense, aiming for a sharper, purposeful motion.

Heeseung straightened slightly, lifting his torso enough to pull his face from the haven of your neck and give himself a clear view of your beautiful pleasured face. His gaze met yours briefly before going downward, to the mesmerizing connection of your bodies moving together – your hips chasing his pounds like your life depended on it. 

Your hazed sight saw his brows furrowing as well as his pursed lips that reflected his immense concentration. Sweat clung to his skin, a few damp strands of hair got stuck to his forehead while the rest, equally damp, fell forward and lightly brushed your face with every thrust.

That sight was a sinful privilege; watching him completely undone yet intensely focused was enough to leave you breathless. And still, your slightly high-pitched whimpers harmonized with each precise thrust.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and instinctively, you mirrored that grip in your hands, clutching Heeseung’s hair as you pulled him into a messy kiss. Tongues moved sloppily, chasing each other and swallowing his deep groans along with your incoherent pleas for him not to stop.

A mutual desire began to creep, one that neither of you wanted to escape, a longing as deep as two bodies yearning, painfully, to occupy the same space and merge together. It became evident in the way you clung to him, your arms wrapping around Heeseung's warm, sweaty body, pressing him down, not even caring about the slight pain in your sensitive boobs as you did so.

“I think I’m close,” you managed to announce amidst the intoxicating chaos of your senses.

There was a thick veil of lust enveloping you both, leaving you utterly dazed; the sensation was surreal, overwhelmingly good, and for the first time you truly understood what people meant when they talked about sex.

Heeseung had heard your voice distant and muffled, since his mind had drifted away, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the aching pain of edging his orgasm; his leaking precum started to blend with your sticky arousal as both of you reached over the edge.

Your eyes rolled when Heeseung started to pound into a specific spot in you, stirring your mouth to fall open with soft cries slipping past your throat, while your nails dug into the flesh of his back, scratching strong enough to leave marks. 

Heeseung barely registered it at first, though he would wear those marks proudly once he did. Still, it stung, a faint burn that somehow awakened his primal need to let go. Added to it, your pussy started to pulse and clench tightly against his painfully sensitive shaft. And so, he begged.

“Please, cum for me,” a small pause to breathe. “Please, I need you to– Please…” 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you trembled. Listening to Heeseung’s broken voice asking you for something you couldn’t quite control bordered the inexplicable and finally it snapped. 

You arched your back and went silent immediately, as if the entire world around you disappeared. You could hear and feel the weight of your heartbeats echoing through you, feel the vibrations of your body, hear the faint, distant noises of Heeseung’s moans and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding.

The intensity of your climax had you gasping for air right after you managed to regain a small portion of your consciousness, your legs squirming as the pleasure took over. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung barely pulled out in time, ensuring he had guided you through your high enough to leave you satisfied.

He would blame himself later for not giving you his absolute best. For now, his focus was on relieving the unbearable, painful tightness in his balls and dick. And so he did, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul before spilling out into a delicious sound.

The wave that coursed through his body was devastatingly intense, leaving him trembling and unsteady to the point where his arms briefly faltered in holding him up.

You parted your tired eyes just enough to watch as he came all over your stomach – so much of it that it trickled down onto the sheets beneath you, leaving you completely sticky.

Both of you fought for air, desperately panting as your bodies surrendered, sinking into an overwhelming state of relaxation. A genuine urge to drift into sleep washed over you, your arms falling limply at your sides as your heavy-lidded eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment. 

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering. 

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had  mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet. 

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

[jo-speaks]

CROSSING PATHS

— right place, right time AU

summary: quinn meets an unlikely friend, and its owner.

warnings: none! wc: 1.6k

note: hope you guys enjoy this and the concept of this au :)

The captain was feeling incredibly overwhelmed- trying to find out why his team just couldn’t pull through in the end, no matter the amount of work and effort they put in at practice. It took a toll on him the hardest, his confidence going down the drain with every sound of the buzzer that announced their loss to the whole arena. 

While others would congratulate him regardless, giving him the whole, “You’re doing great.” spiel, he- for one- didn’t believe it, and two, he didn’t care for great. He wanted perfection. 

“Hun, get out of your apartment, forget about hockey for a minute.” His mother said over the phone after he had called her after a particularly tough OT loss, “It might clear your head a bit.”

Quinn groaned, his mother saying the impossible, “I don’t need a walk, Ma. We just need to win.”

Ellen’s laughter echoed throughout the apartment, “Q, you’ve got to unwind. I’m scared you’re going to blow up that head of yours.”

On some level, Quinn knew she was right. I mean, it was visibly obvious when his mind was running a million miles per hour. He hesitated before saying, “Fine. But if all I get from this is frostbite, you’re taking care of me.” 

“When am I not?”

Quinn let out a lighthearted laugh, saying his goodbyes before going to put his sneakers on and grab a warmer hoodie than the one he had on. He looked at himself in the mirror when he passed it in his hall, his hair disheveled and the exhaustion becoming more and more prominent every day. 

As he grabbed his door keys to walk out of the apartment, he briefly debated grabbing his hockey bag that sat next to his doorway and going to the rink instead. He quickly talked himself out of that idea, ultimately deciding that it would be counterintuitive to forget about hockey for a bit, whilst playing hockey.

~~~

Quinn made his way to the park nearby, settling on just walking wherever his feet took him instead of following an instructed trail. It was chilly, the Vancouver air surprisingly warmer than it had been in previous winters, but still cold enough to send a sharp shiver through his body. 

His eyes wandered as he let his senses become filled with the sounds of nature and the conversations of people passing by. Everyone looked so relaxed and carefree, giving Quinn a sliver of hope that he, too, would feel that way after a few hours here. 

He had become so entranced by his surroundings that his brain barely registered a voice quickly approaching that yelled, “Watch out!”

Quinn turned around, a sudden pressure coming down onto his lower stomach as a medium-sized golden retriever jumped on him with enough force to have him stumbling a bit, but not enough to knock him down completely. The animal’s tail wagged rapidly, its panting breaths reaching Quinn’s nose as it looked up at him. 

“Hey, bud.” Quinn cooed, petting its head, making the dog even more excited. 

You came up to him, leash around your waist as you panted, catching your breath before speaking up, “I am so sorry, she doesn’t normally do this.” He looked up, his jaw dropping slightly as he took you in. He noticed your hair had fallen out of your updo, now messily draped across your shoulders and back, your mascara running the slightest bit under your eyes due to sweat, but still keeping your lashes up and curled. But most of all, he noticed that gleam in your eyes that was a mix of joy and relaxation. 

The dog had now put her paws down fully on the concrete, beginning to circle around Quinn’s legs and even trying to go in between them before a snap of your fingers brought her back to those simple circles. 

“It’s okay,” Quinn muttered, trying to keep his composure as his heart thrummed rapidly in his chest. “Cute dog.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, noticing her tail not slowing down in the slightest in his presence. “She seems to really like you, she’s not normally like this with strangers.”

Your words seemed to relax him a little bit, a grin appearing on his face as he squatted down, putting himself on level with the pup and rubbing her head, “What’s her name?” 

“Chilli.” You answered. 

Quinn gave you a look of confusion, “I was actually talking to her."

It took you a minute to realize what he had meant, but when it clicked, you let out a bubbly laugh that had Quinn’s head reeling, “Smooth. I’m Y/N.”

He gave Chilli one last pat before standing up, sticking his hand out like you were some lady in the office, “Quinn.” 

You shook his hand, laughing quietly at the formality before meeting his gaze fully this time, your brain registering his admirable features, which were all of them. 

The curve of his nose, his long lashes, and those eyes that reflected a look of relief. You caught yourself staring a little longer than you intended to, clearing your throat with a smile before looking down at Chilli. You hooked the link of the leash to her harness, ensuring she wouldn’t try this stunt again with another person. 

“Well, Quinn, if you’re not too busy, would you like to join us on the rest of our walk?” You proposed, growing enough courage to ask.

Quinn was sure his heart exploded. 

“Yeah. I’d like that.” He said as smoothly as possible.

The toothy smile that appeared on your face after he agreed had a matching one on his face immediately after. The two of you started walking, letting Chilli lead the way as she walked ahead of you, sniffing the ground as she went.

It was a comfortable silence that fell between you and Quinn, but he wanted to know more about the mystery girl and her dog that walked beside him.

“So,” He began, “Why the harness instead of a collar?”

You turned your head to face him, “I’m not a fan of collars. I know I wouldn’t like it if someone was tugging at my neck. Plus, this gives me a little more control of her without having to pull at her.” Quinn hummed, “Do you work with animals?”

“When I have time, I volunteer with this local animal shelter a few minutes from here.” Your words registered in his mind, the conversation flowing smoothly. Before he could ask you something else, you chimed in first. “What about you? What do you do?”

He hesitated. He knew he couldn’t just say, “I’m actually a professional hockey player.” Unfortunately for him, he did say it out loud instead of keeping it in his head like he had intended. 

When he caught the words spewing out of him before he could stop them, he braced himself, ready for you to grill him about his career, and income, or even pull out your phone to google him to find out yourself. So what you said next shocked him a little bit. 

“Oh, that’s fun. Do you like it?” You asked calmly, keeping your gaze straight ahead.

He let out a breath of relief, “Uh, yeah. I mean, not a whole lot right now.” You tilted your head, facing him again, “What’s that mean?”

“My team’s in a bit of a slump right now and we can’t seem to win anything.” He explained vaguely, not wanting to let himself fall into a deep conversation about hockey with someone he just met.

Luckily for him, you didn’t press. You simply hummed and switched topics that had more to do with him rather than his job. 

The two of you walked and talked about anything and everything, and by the time you returned back to where you had started, Quinn felt as if he’d known you for ten years instead of just two hours. 

And by the end of it, he wasn’t thinking about hockey at all.

“Thanks for joining us, Quinn.” You announced.

Quinn smiled, “Thanks for asking. I really needed that.” 

You stood there a bit awkwardly as Chilli licked at his shoes, her way of saying goodbye before you verbalized it and said, “I’ll see you around.” turning to walk away from him and back to your apartment.

Before you could, Quinn stopped you, walking to your side again so you would stop and face him. He stared at you for a minute before snapping himself out of his daze, pulling out his phone, and asking, “Do you think I could get your number? Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

His pupils nearly shaped hearts when you flashed him another smile, a small giggle coming from your throat as you took his unlocked phone from his hands and typed in your number and name into it. 

“Thanks.” He cheesed, “I’ll text you.” 

You bit your lip innocently, “Can’t wait.’”

He bid you goodbye, relishing in the way you turned around to look at him when you were a good distance away. He smiled to himself before making his way back to the apartment. On his way, he went to his call logs and facetimed his mom yet again. 

“You okay?” She picked up with a look of confusion on her face.

Quinn nodded, the smile on his face indescribably giddy, “Thank you for making me come out here.” 

“You look a lot better now, what happened?” She teased, but there was a hint of relief in her voice as he looked… lighter. 

“I met someone.”

[elryuse]

ANTHEM pt.3

MULTIPLE FEMALE IDOLS X MALE READER

TAGS : MULTIPLE FEMALE LOVE INTEREST, HAREM, KISSING

WORDS : 3,981 Words

This is Part 3 of The Anthem Series. For The Other Anthem Series, Please Kindly Check over Here.

Y/n stretched lazily in his bed, the cold morning air nipping at his exposed skin. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater struggling to keep up with the winter chill. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, turning his head slightly to find Wonyoung nestled close beside him, her face peaceful and serene. She was wearing her signature oversized black t-shirt, the fabric pooling around her delicate frame. Her dark hair fanned out across the pillow, catching the faint light streaming through the curtains.

She looks like a princess, Y/n thought, his heart softening as he watched her. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he knew they couldn’t stay like this forever. Carefully, he shifted the blanket that covered them both, lifting it slowly so as not to wake her.

But Wonyoung stirred almost immediately, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked up at him, her lips forming a pout before she even fully registered what was happening. “Why are you leaving me?” she complained, her voice thick with sleep but tinged with mock indignation.

Y/n chuckled softly, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Good morning to you too,” he said, earning a small groan from her as she swatted his hand away half-heartedly.

“Don’t mess up my hair,” she grumbled, though her pout softened into a smile. She rolled onto her back, stretching her arms above her head, the hem of her shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of smooth skin. Y/n’s eyes lingered a moment too long, and when Wonyoung caught him staring, her grin turned mischievous.

“What’s wrong, oppa? Never seen a girl wake up before?” she teased, propping herself up on one elbow. Her voice was light, playful, but there was something underneath it—something that made Y/n’s stomach tighten.

He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “You should head back to your room. Yujin’s probably wondering where you are.”

Wonyoung shook her head, her expression stubborn. “No. I like it here. Your bed is warmer than mine.” She scooted closer to him, her body heat radiating against his side. “And you’re warmer too,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Y/n sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Wonyoung, you know we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted, tilting her head innocently. “It’s not like anyone will notice. Everyone’s still asleep.”

Yeji’s probably already awake, Y/n thought but didn’t say. He didn’t want to argue with her, especially not when she was looking at him like that—her big doe eyes filled with a mix of innocence and something far more dangerous.

“Fine,” he conceded, leaning back against the pillows. “But only for a little while.”

Wonyoung smiled triumphantly, settling back down beside him. She tucked her head against his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck. For a moment, they lay there in silence, the rhythm of their breathing syncing naturally. But then Wonyoung shifted slightly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest through his thin t-shirt.

“Oppa,” she murmured after a while, her voice barely audible. “Do you ever think about… us?”

Y/n froze, his heart skipping a beat. “Us?” he repeated, his voice cautious.

Wonyoung pulled back slightly to look at him, her expression serious now. “Yeah. You know… how we spend so much time together. How I always end up in your bed. Don’t you think that means something?”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Y/n opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Wonyoung leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “I think you like having me here,” she whispered, her breath sending shivers down his spine. “Maybe even more than you want to admit.”

Y/n swallowed hard, his mind racing. He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was just imagining things. But the truth was, he did like having her there. More than he should. And the way she was looking at him now, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite name, made it impossible to think clearly.

“Wonyoung…” he began, but she cut him off again, this time by pressing her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. His brain short-circuited, his hands moving instinctively to her waist as he kissed her back. It was brief, chaste even, but it left his heart pounding.

When she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, but her smile was triumphant. “See?” she said, her voice smug. “You do like me.”

Y/n groaned, running a hand over his face. “This is such a bad idea,” he muttered, though he made no move to push her away.

Wonyoung giggled, her fingers trailing down his arm. “Since when have we ever had good ideas?” she countered, her tone light but her gaze intense. “Besides, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Not even Yujin.”

The mention of Yujin made Y/n’s stomach twist. He knew he was playing with fire, but the way Wonyoung was looking at him—like he was the only thing that mattered—made it impossible to care.

Before he could stop himself, he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss her again.

This time, there was nothing soft or tentative about it. Wonyoung responded eagerly, her hands tangling in his hair as she deepened the kiss. Y/n’s grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Every rational thought fled his mind, replaced by the overwhelming need to touch her, to feel her, to lose himself in her.

Their kisses grew more desperate, more urgent, until Wonyoung finally pulled back, panting slightly. Her eyes were dark with desire, her lips swollen and glistening. “Oppa,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I want you.”

The words sent a jolt of electricity through him, his resolve crumbling completely. He didn’t speak, didn’t trust himself to form coherent thoughts anymore. Instead, he leaned in again, capturing her lips in another searing kiss as his hands roamed lower, exploring every inch of her soft, warm skin.

Wonyoung gasped, arching into his touch. “Y/n,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice breaking on his name. “Please…”

He didn’t need to be told twice. With a low growl, he flipped them over, pinning her beneath him as his kisses trailed down her neck to the collar of her oversized shirt. Wonyoung let out a soft moan, her nails digging into his shoulders as he tugged the fabric aside, exposing more of her bare skin.

But just as his lips brushed against her collarbone, a sharp knock on the door shattered the moment. They froze, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“Y/n?” Yujin’s voice called from the other side of the door, sounding way too cheerful for the situation. “Are you awake? We need to talk about practice today!”

Y/n swore under his breath, pulling away from Wonyoung reluctantly. “One second!” he called back, his voice strained.

Wonyoung bit her lip, trying to stifle a laugh as she sat up, fixing her shirt. “Well, that’s unfortunate timing,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/n shot her a glare, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the flush staining his cheeks. “You need to hide,” he hissed, gesturing toward the closet.

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but complied, slipping out of bed and padding silently across the room. She paused at the closet door, glancing back at him with a smirk. “We’re not done, oppa,” she said softly before disappearing inside.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before opening the door. Yujin stood there, grinning broadly, completely oblivious to what she’d just interrupted.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” she chirped, stepping past him into the room. “I brought coffee. Thought you might need it after last night.”

As she set the tray down on his desk, Y/n glanced nervously at the closet, wondering how long Wonyoung would be able to stay hidden—and what fresh chaos was waiting to unfold.

Yujin’s cheerful expression faltered as she stepped further into the room, her nose wrinkling slightly. She tilted her head, sniffing the air like a curious kitten. “Hmm… what’s that smell?” she mused, her voice light but carrying an edge of suspicion. Her gaze flicked around the room before landing on Y/n, who was standing stiffly by the door, trying to act natural.

“What smell?” Y/n asked, his voice a little too high-pitched. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms casually over his chest, though his heart was pounding. She couldn’t possibly know, he thought, even as beads of sweat threatened to form at his temples.

Yujin wandered closer to him, her eyes narrowing playfully but with a hint of something sharper beneath the surface. She leaned in, sniffing dramatically near his shoulder. “It smells like… Wonyoung’s perfume. The one she always wears.” She straightened up, hands on her hips, and fixed him with a knowing look. “Strawberries and vanilla. Very distinctive.”

Y/n froze, his mind racing for an excuse. Think, think, think. Before he could respond, the closet door creaked ever so slightly, drawing Yujin’s attention. Her head snapped toward it, and she took a step forward. “Is someone in there?” she asked, her tone shifting from playful to accusatory.

“No!” Y/n said quickly, stepping between her and the closet. “I mean… probably just the wind or something. Old building, you know? Drafty.” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Sweat was definitely forming now.

Yujin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she studied him. “Y/n-oppa,” she began, her voice sweet but laced with mischief, “are you hiding something from me?”

Before he could answer, the closet door burst open, and Wonyoung stepped out, her hair slightly disheveled but her expression defiant. “Yes, he is,” she declared, folding her arms over her chest. “And before you get all worked up, Yujin-unnie, it’s not what you think.”

Yujin’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening as she looked between Wonyoung and Y/n. “Excuse me? Not what I think?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You were in his closet, smelling like his bedsheets, and—”

“Enough!” Y/n interrupted, raising both hands to silence them. His voice carried a firmness that surprised even himself, and both girls stopped mid-sentence, staring at him. He took a deep breath, lowering his voice. “Look, this isn’t helping anyone. We’re a team, right? So let’s not turn this into some dramatic scene.”

Wonyoung pouted, her lower lip jutting out as she glanced at Yujin. “She started it,” she muttered under her breath.

Yujin scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I started it? You’re the one who—”

“Stop,” Y/n said again, softer this time but no less commanding. He stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Listen. I… I care about both of you. A lot. And if we’re going to make this work, we need to be honest with each other. No secrets, no jealousy. Just… trust.”

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the sound of their breathing. Then, Yujin let out a small huff, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Fine,” she said, though her eyes still flashed with a hint of challenge. “But you owe me coffee after this.”

Wonyoung rolled her eyes but nodded. “And me too,” she added, smirking at Y/n. “Maybe even breakfast.”

Y/n let out a relieved laugh, feeling some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Deal,” he said, grinning despite himself. If only it could always be this easy, he thought, though he knew better than to hope for smooth sailing.

Later that afternoon, the group gathered in the practice room for another grueling session. Winter had been unusually quiet throughout the day, her sharp eyes watching Y/n with an intensity that made him uneasy. She sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone, but every so often, her gaze would flicker up to meet his, holding it for just a second too long before she looked away.

Karina clapped her hands, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, let’s run through the choreography one more time. Focus on the transitions—they’re still a bit messy.”

The music started, and Y/n threw himself into the routine, trying to ignore the way Winter’s eyes seemed to burn into his back. By the time they finished, his muscles were screaming in protest, and his shirt clung to his skin with sweat. He collapsed onto the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall as he caught his breath.

Just as he closed his eyes, he felt a presence beside him. He opened them to find Wonyoung crouching down, her face glowing with exertion but her smile bright. “Oppa,” she said, her voice soft, “will you come shopping with me later? I need to pick up some clothes for everyone, and I could use your opinion.”

Y/n hesitated, glancing around the room. Karina was deep in conversation with Chaewon, and Yujin was stretching nearby, her eyes darting toward them periodically. Winter was still watching him, her expression unreadable. “Sure,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “Let me just clean up first.”

As he stood, he caught Yujin’s eye. She gave him a small nod, though her lips were pressed into a thin line. He could tell she wasn’t happy about it, but she didn’t say anything. One problem at a time, he told himself.

An hour later, Y/n found himself in Wonyoung’s room, sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed as she rummaged through her closet. “So, what do you think of this?” she asked, holding up a vibrant pink dress that shimmered under the light.

“It’s… um, nice,” Y/n said, unsure of how else to respond. “Very… eye-catching.”

Wonyoung giggled, setting the dress aside and turning to face him. Her expression softened, her eyes locking onto his. “You’re really cute when you’re nervous,” she said, taking a step closer.

Before he could react, she was straddling him, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed her lips to his. Y/n’s brain short-circuited, his body instinctively responding as her tongue slipped into his mouth. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair as she deepened the kiss, her nails digging into his skin.

“W-Wonyoung,” he gasped when she broke away to trail kisses down his neck, her teeth grazing his collarbone. “We shouldn’t—”

“Shh,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it aside. His breath hitched as she ran her fingers over his chest, her touch sending sparks through his body. She leaned down, nipping at his skin before licking away the sting, her movements deliberate and slow.

“Wonyoung,” he moaned, his hands gripping her waist as she shifted above him. She smirked, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall to the floor before grabbing his hands and placing them on her bare skin. “Touch me,” she breathed, grinding against him.

He obeyed, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips before sliding up to cup her breasts. She let out a breathy sigh, arching into his touch as she rolled her hips against his growing hardness. “You’re mine right now,” she murmured, her voice dripping with possessiveness as she leaned down to claim his lips once more.

Her fingers fumbled with the button of his pants, yanking them down along with his boxers. She pulled back just enough to kick off her own shorts and panties, her eyes dark with hunger as she positioned herself above him. “Ready?” she teased, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Y/n nodded, his breath coming in shallow gasps as she lowered herself onto him, her tight warmth engulfing him completely. She let out a low moan, her nails raking down his chest as she began to move, her pace slow and deliberate at first, then increasingly frantic. Her head fell back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she rode him, her cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

“Faster,” she begged, her voice breaking as she gripped his shoulders for leverage. Y/n obliged, thrusting upward to meet her movements, their rhythm falling into sync as the heat between them built to a fever pitch. Wonyoung’s moans grew louder, more desperate, until she shuddered above him, her body tightening as waves of pleasure overtook her.

Y/n followed soon after, his release spilling inside her as she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, they lay there, tangled together and soaked in sweat, the world outside forgotten.

“Well,” Wonyoung said after a while, her voice teasing as she propped herself up to look at him, “that was fun.”

Y/n blinked up at her, his mind still reeling. “Yeah,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “Fun.”

Wonyoung’s lips curved into a sly smile as she leaned down, her breath warm against his ear. “You think we’re done?” she whispered, her voice dripping with mischief. Her fingers traced lazy circles on his chest, sending shivers down his spine. “I’m just getting started.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, but before he could respond, Wonyoung shifted her weight, straddling him again. Her hands slid down his torso, nails lightly scratching his skin, and he hissed at the sensation. She laughed softly, her voice low and sultry. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Y/n. I thought you had more stamina than this.”

His body tensed under her teasing, a mix of exhaustion and desire warring within him. But the way she looked at him—her dark eyes glinting with playful challenge—was enough to reignite the fire in his veins. He reached up, tangling his fingers in her hair, and pulled her closer until their lips were almost touching. “Careful what you wish for,” he murmured, his voice rough.

Wonyoung smirked, clearly enjoying the game. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” she purred before capturing his mouth in another deep kiss. Her hips rolled against his, and he groaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist tightly. The heat between them was undeniable, their bodies moving together with a rhythm that felt both natural and desperate.

Their second round was slower but no less intense, each touch and movement deliberate. Wonyoung’s moans were softer now, more intimate, as if she was savoring every moment. Y/n’s hands explored every inch of her, memorizing the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and yet not enough. They clung to each other, chasing the high of their connection, unwilling to let go.

When they finally collapsed onto the bed, breathless and sweaty, Wonyoung let out a contented sigh. “Okay,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

Y/n chuckled, though it came out more like a groan. “Glad to hear it.”

They lay there for a while, catching their breath, until Wonyoung sat up, stretching languidly. “We should probably get dressed,” she said, glancing around the room. “Before someone else decides to barge in unannounced.”

Y/n nodded, reluctantly sitting up as well. They gathered their clothes, the air between them still charged with the remnants of what had just happened. As they dressed, Wonyoung shot him a mischievous grin. “Just so you know, this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop teasing you.”

He raised an eyebrow, half amused, half wary. “Noted.”

By the time they emerged from her room, the rest of the group was bustling about, preparing for the day ahead. Karina was the first to notice them, her sharp eyes flickering between Y/n and Wonyoung as they approached. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it, instead offering a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Thanks for helping Wonyoung with… whatever it was you two were doing,” Winter chimed in, her tone light but her gaze piercing. She stepped closer to Y/n, her hand brushing against his cheek in a gesture that felt far too familiar. “You’re always so… accommodating.”

Y/n stiffened, acutely aware of Karina watching them. But before he could respond, Wonyoung cut in, her voice sweet but laced with subtle warning. “Isn’t he just? We’re lucky to have him.”

Winter smirked, clearly enjoying the tension she was creating. “Indeed.”

The conversation shifted to mundane topics after that, but the underlying unease lingered. Y/n felt Karina’s eyes on him throughout, her gaze soft yet tinged with something deeper—something he couldn’t quite place. When she finally approached him, her touch was tentative as she took his arm, her fingers gently caressing his bicep.

“Thank you, Y/n,” she said quietly, her voice filled with warmth. Her eyes met his, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. “For everything.”

Her words were simple, but the emotion behind them was anything but. Y/n’s heart ached with guilt and longing, but he forced himself to smile. “Of course. You don’t have to thank me.”

Karina hesitated, as if she wanted to say more, but then she seemed to catch herself. She coughed lightly, stepping back and breaking the spell. “Right. Well, we should all get ready. There’s still a lot to do today.”

The others nodded, exchanging glances that hinted at things left unsaid. Winter lingered for a moment longer, her fingers trailing along Y/n’s jawline before she finally turned away. “See you later,” she called over her shoulder, her tone dripping with promise.

As the group dispersed, Y/n exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of their collective attention pressing down on him. He needed a moment to breathe, to clear his head. A shower sounded perfect—just the thing to wash away the sweat and tension clinging to his skin.

He made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as soon as the door closed behind him. The water was hot, almost scalding, but it felt good against his skin. He stood under the spray, letting it wash away the lingering echoes of the morning’s events.

But just as he began to relax, he heard it—a soft, melodic humming coming from outside the bathroom door. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist. “Hello?” he called out, his voice hesitant.

The humming stopped, replaced by the sound of the doorknob turning. Before he could react, the door swung open, and Yujin stepped inside, her eyes widening in shock as she took in the sight of him—dripping wet, bare-chested, and very much naked from the waist down aside from the hastily wrapped towel.

“Y/n?!” she squeaked, her face turning bright red as she immediately spun around, covering her eyes with her hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t—”

Y/n froze, his mind racing as he tried to process what had just happened. “Yujin, wait—”

But she was already backing out of the bathroom, stumbling over her own feet in her haste to escape. “I-I’ll just—uh—”

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Y/n standing there, stunned and utterly exposed. He stared at the closed door, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of the situation sank in. This was not how he expected his day to go.

From the other side of the door, he could hear Yujin’s muffled voice, though her words were too faint to make out. Y/n groaned, running a hand through his wet hair. What was he supposed to do now?

The silence stretched on, thick and uncomfortable, until Y/n finally mustered the courage to call out, “Yujin?”

There was no response. He waited a few moments, then sighed. “I’m really sorry about that,” he said, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was apologizing to—her or himself.

[cythena]

COMPLIMENTARY

ꨄ synopsis . on his flight back home, geto expects peace and quiet. he can't wait to relax and get away from his busy idol life for a moment. his plans are disrupted by the charming flight attendant who gives him first class treatment.

warnings . strangers fucking, flight attendant!reader, idol!geto (ig), not proofread and was written for san so if something doesn't make sense that's way, airplane sex, semi public sex, PnV, PwP, fingering, reader wears lipstick idk

word count . 2k

notes . this was san. i love san. he's my man. muah. happy new year.

Suguru is grateful, to say the least, to get onto his flight without trouble. No fan spots him walking through the airport, and he isn’t “randomly” selected at any security checkpoints. Now he can enjoy his first-class flight with his manager sleeping beside him. The flight attendants hustle around him as standard procedure. He relaxes into his seat, ignoring them and letting his body sink into the plush cushioning.

Suguru closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. It’s rare to have this kind of peace during travel, and he plans to savor it. As the flight attendants continue their rounds, he catches glimpses of them moving through the cabin. One in particular catches his eye—you.

Your hair is neatly out of your face, letting him admire your features clearly from across the cabin. Your eyebrows are neatly trimmed, and your eyeshadow is a neutral shade with a sharp wing extending from the corner of your eyes. And is that glitter? Then his eyes fall on your lips—that red lip. It’s outlined by a dark lip liner that he hasn’t noticed on any of the other attendants.

There’s also a brighter smile on your face as you speak to the mother-son duo. It’s not just a customer service smile either; it looks genuine, even when you walk away. His coworkers tend to lose a majority of the charm once they walk away.

You move with an ease that captivates the attention of everyone in the cabin, even though you remain focused on your work.

When you reach his row, you pause and offer a polite smile, your eyes briefly meeting his. "Good evening, sir. Can I get you something to drink?"

Suguru smiles back, feeling a flutter in his chest. "Just some water, please," he gulps, his voice calm but carrying a hint of curiosity. He watches as you move away, feeling an unexpected intrigue. It’s been a long time since he’s been captivated by someone in such a simple, unassuming way.

“Really?” you hum. Your response surprises him as you fill a short glass with ice cubes. “Nothing special?”

He manages to snap back into the conversation when you pour water into the glass and set it on his tray. Shaking his head, “No. Maybe later.” A natural smile falls onto his lips as he looks at you.

“Well, it’s a 13-hour flight,” you say while leaning on your cart. “Call me when you need me.” You let out a harmonious giggle that Suguru swears replays in his ears. You offer him a final wave as you push to the row behind him. He glances at his manager who is still knocked out peacefully.

Suguru shifts in his seat, trying to focus on the in-flight entertainment, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Every so often, he hears your voice as you interact with passengers, that same cheerful tone making him smile to himself. It’s rare for anyone to catch his attention like this, let alone during something as routine as a flight.

Hours pass, and the cabin begins to settle. Most of the passengers are either asleep or engrossed in their screens. Suguru glances around, noticing the row beside him is still empty. Just as he’s about to recline and close his eyes, you appear again, this time without your cart.

You pause next to him, flashing him that same bright smile. “Looks like my break lines up perfectly with your row being empty,” you tease lightly. “Mind if I sit for a bit? It’s not every day I get a flight so easy.”

Suguru blinks in surprise but quickly recovers, nodding. “Not at all. Be my guest- if that won’t get you in trouble.”

You wave his concern off while you slide into the seat beside him, smoothing out your uniform as you settle in. “Hospitality is very important, especially with such a special passenger. So,” you begin, leaning slightly toward him, “what brings you on this flight? Work or play?”

Suguru chuckles softly, running a hand through his hair. “A little bit of both, I guess. Mostly work, though.” He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “What about you? What made you wanna be a flight attendant?”

You laugh softly, resting your chin in your hand. “It’s a little silly. Don’t laugh.”

He nods, unsure of what tale could result in your career choices.

“I wanted to be a singer.” Suguru quirks a brow which urges you to continue with your explanation. “Well, a performer, more so. One night, I was chatting with a friend who said something that really had me thinking. Anyone can be a performer, singers have their stages, and me—I have this as mine.” You pat the leather armrest you lean on.

Suguru listens intently, a small smile tugging at his lips. “That’s not silly at all,” he says softly. “In fact, I think it’s... poetic.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Poetic? That’s one way to put it. But I like to think it’s true. Every day, I get to meet people from all over the world, and for a few hours, I’m part of their journey. No matter what. That’s special, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Suguru agrees, his gaze softening. “You get to create memories for people, even if it’s just through small moments.”

You glance at him, slightly surprised by his thoughtful response. “Exactly,” you reply, your voice tinged with admiration. “Most people don’t get it, but you do.”

Suguru shrugs modestly. “Maybe because I know a thing or two about being on a stage.”

Your eyes narrow playfully. “Oh, so you’re a performer, too? What kind of stage are we talking about?”

Suguru hesitates for a moment, debating whether to tell you the truth. “Something like that,” he says vaguely, a small smirk playing on his lips. You tilt your head, sensing there’s more to his story, but decide not to push. Instead, you smile and lean back, enjoying the unexpected ease between the two of you.

He chuckles softly, his smirk deepening as he watches your curiosity linger in your eyes. “What about you? You ever dream of being on a stage again, even for a moment?” he asks, his voice dipping lower.

Your breath catches for a beat, the question catching you off guard. You glance around the dim cabin, ensuring no one is listening, before leaning in slightly. “Sometimes,” you admit, your voice just above a whisper. “But I think I’m better at making people feel special in little ways. It’s more... intimate.”

Suguru’s gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest moment, a movement so subtle it’s almost imperceptible. But you catch it, and your heart skips a beat.

“Intimate, huh?” he murmurs, his voice soft, yet carrying an undeniable edge. “I can see that.”

You shift in your seat, your fingers brushing near the corner of your lips and make a small smudge in the red. You continue eyeing him with a dangerous glint in your eyes. It doesn’t match the sweet smile playing on your lips and the delicate sound of your voice. As his eyes dart across your face and seem to linger on the bit of red against your skin, he feels the need to adjust his pants.

He curses himself, knowing he’s not being subtle about this at all. But before you can take a glance he clears his throat. “Sorry…but you don’t think I could get another water.” He almost wheezes out the last word.

“You know,” you begin, your voice light but laced with risk, “I could show you where we flight attendants really work behind the scenes, as I get you this water.” You add the last part with light-hearted sarcasm.

Suguru raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued but he soon catches onto what you mean. “Behind the scenes?”

You nod, biting your lip as a mischievous glint lights your eyes. “Follow me,” you say, standing up and motioning subtly toward the aisle.

Suguru hesitates only for a second before rising, his heart pounding in a way that has nothing to do with turbulence. As he trails behind you, the dim glow of the cabin lights seems to heighten the tension, every step feeling more deliberate, more charged. He passes by passengers focused on their screens and just hopes they don’t feel like looking up.

You lead him to the back of the plane with little to no passengers all spread around the last few rows. Another coworker of yours sits idly on her phone with one of your complementary cookies in her hand. With one glance at you and your guest, she gets up with a knowing smirk which leads Suguru to believe he’s not the first lucky passenger of yours.

The crew lavatory is a bit more spacious than the economy one but smaller than the first class. It gives him enough space to sit you up on the sink and let you wrap your legs around his slim waist. He steadies his hands on your hips while your hands sink into his soft locs.

You think he’s going in for a kiss when he leans closer but defers towards your ear. His lips brush against you as he softly murmurs, “Hospitality is important, right?” You nod. “Then you’ll make your guest feel special?”

He smashes his lips onto yours with a passion you’ve never seen before. He kisses you like you’re the last bit of oxygen on Earth. His hands work quickly at your uniform, opening your blazer and undoing the buttons to your white blouse. Then he tugs your pencil skirt up over your hips.

Once he pulls away from your lips, he peers at the slight smudge of your lipstick. It’s far from his liking but his eyes are quickly pulled lower to your matching set underneath your clothes. He lips his pink lips while rubbing his thumbs over your plush thighs.

“Is this part of your uniform? Or did you wear it just for me?” he hisses. You reply with a crooked smile that’s wiped when he hauls your hips closer to the edge of the counter.

He glances down between your thighs and slides two fingers between your folds to test. He lifts them into the cool bright lighting of the bathroom. A shimmer reflects on the strand between his fingers. You don’t get a good look before he wraps his lips around his fingers. You moan at the sight yourself.

He sets a quick pace with his digits. His fingers move in and out of you, slick gathering around your cunt, and dripping onto the counter and down his wrist. You squeeze his shoulders while your head falls back against the wall. Your jaw hangs open while your eyes shut from the pleasure.

Suguru uses the hand holding onto your, he snakes it up your spine and grips the back of your head. Your eyes snap open as he slots his lips against yours again. He’s less precise with the way his lips move against yours. He doesn’t let up with the way he kisses you, taking every opportunity to swirl his tongue around yours.

You pull away. “Oh f…fuck,” you hiss. “I’m gonna…”

“You wanna cum?”

You nod.

“Okay. Cum for me. You can do it.” He whispers as his fingers continue their pace. He forces you to hold yourself up while his other hand rubs your clit.

You feel your mind go blank once he adds his second hand. Your moans start to crack while your pussy clenches around his fingers. He blocks your body’s natural reaction to clench your thighs. The sound you make when he pulls away has him holding in a whimper himself. He quickly pops his fingers in his mouth for a taste.

You don’t get time to acknowledge it before you feel his tip prodding at your clit. Jolts of electricity shock through your body.

He lets his head fall onto your neck and his cheek rubs against your necktie. He lets out a shaky curse followed by a dry chuckle and can barely lift his head. “Fuck me…You’re gonna kill me.”

“Sorry,” you pull his head back up so you can look at him. Your tongue swipes over your lips and sends Suguru into a spiral. He sinks the rest of his length into you at lightning speed. You’re stuffed before you can even blink. Your manicure scratches him through his shirt.

“Heh…mhm…gonna let me fuck you? Make you feel real good, baby?�� he asked, nodding like he was answering for you. “That’s right.” He pulls out halfway but quickly pushes himself back in like he’s cold without your warmth around him.

Your hands sneak underneath his shirt to push it up. You were curious about what he was hiding underneath his black t-shirt – a masterpiece handcrafted by God, clearly. He seems proud of it, you assume, by the cocky smirk on his face as he wraps both arms around your back.

You wrap your legs around him as he thrusts. He settles on how hard he wants to fuck you and it’s hard.

Your hands grab at nothing as he fucks into you. He fills you up completely and leaves you empty for less than a second. His thick cock hits that spongey spot every single time.

You’re not sure if you love the way he’s wrecking your insides or the butterflies he’s giving them more. He continues pressing kisses across your face. He cushions your head from the hard wall and mumbles sweet words.

“God. You’re so pretty…Feel so good, too…Do you feel good? I wanna make you feel good – lemme make you feel so good,” he babbles. You can clearly make out his pussydrunk words and all they do make is make you wetter and your cunt louder.

He adjusts your hips and completely changes the angle you’ve felt his cock at. This new angle has you screaming and creaming all over him.

“Please please please,” you whine pathetically.

“Yeah. Cum for me, you’re so pretty when you cum.”

You whine again, even louder this time. Your back arches into him and you let yourself go. Your eyes cross from the pleasure while your brain forgets how to function momentarily. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath.

“Such a greedy girl, cumming for me twice,” he mocks. His teasing is short-lived and his high is rushing. “Where do you want it?” His voice is almost a whisper.

“Inside?” you ask so politely it has him shooting without another thought. He pulls you close to his chest. His head hangs by your ear again, you hear every shaky breath and curse. He buries his head in your neck again.

“Think I just fell in love,” he confesses playfully when he pulls away.

You can’t resist the grin on your face as you come down from your high. He continues to hold you as he helps you redress and straighten your clothes. He buttoned your blouse up and pulled your skirt back down. He even readjusted your necktie again.

You look so pretty, he thinks to himself. It almost bothers him.

He smiles at you. His gaze locks onto your lips, a flicker of mischief crossing his features. Without a word, his thumb grazing your bottom lip presses firmly enough to smear your lipstick. Your mouth widens in a gasp which helps him even more.

He pats your cheek and leaves you with one more kiss. He lets you fix yourself up and returns to his seat.

It’s only a few minutes before he sees you again. You stop by his seat and set two things on his tray table: a glass of whiskey neat and a small business card. He glances up at you and notices something that’s got his pants in a tent again.

Your lipstick was still smeared.

He doesn’t get to comment on it. “Complimentary,” you say before continuing down the aisle.

He takes a look at the pretty card. There’s a red kiss mark on it with his name and seat number. On the other side: “Call me when you land! XXX-XXX-XXXX ♡”

He had a few days off when he returned.

[clrasecretdiary]

You're just a little bit too much like me | Spencer Reid x Reader

Enemies to lovers | angsty fluff

Word count: 1755

Warnings: Normal criminal minds type of violence, mention of guns and gunshots, age gap (Reader is about 25, and Spencer is in his late 30s)

Content: Spencer being an asshole because he doesn't know how to deal with his feelings and how you remind him of his older self, past Spencer trauma (implied but not directly mentioned), self-doubt, Post prison! Spence

It was a difficult situation, only your second week on the job and the first time you had to make that kind of decision. You went alone to a location where the suspect might have been at, all of your teammates were further away so, as reckless as you now recognize it was, you went there alone, instead of waiting like Spencer and Emily asked you too. You didn't want to lose your chance, there were more than 3 days on the field at stake here, you did not want to disappoint your colleagues and just stand there waiting like a dumb newbie, so you made the decision.

“I'm going in” You warn your teammates in the radio, not waiting for a response before storming into the unsubs house.

You bust the door open with your feet, storming into the house. As you look inside, you find the unsub taking his gun from a drawer. Thinking you had an advantage as his back was facing you, you rush to try and immobilize him, but somehow he managed to turn around and shoot you.

You growled in pain as your body dropped to the ground, just before you passed out completely you heard the sound of rushed footsteps. You heard two voices, one you recognized as Emily's going after the unsub, and the other as Reid's talking to you.

“Please don’t go to sleep, we need you awake” His voice was soothing, far different from the tone he always used with you ever since you joined the team this year, but he sounded so worried, and you really did try to stay awake for him, for your team, to show that you were okay and that they needed to go after what's important, the unsub, but you couldn't. The last thing you heard as your vision got black was him yelling at his radio, “Medical, we need medical right now”. And then, everything went black.

You are now back at your first day on the job. Still at your house, confused as to what outfit you should use, so anxious about being so young at the top team of profilers, even thought it was a last year internship you hoped to impress them enough that they would hire you officially for the team, so your anxiety was through the roof wondering whether you really deserved to be there (goddamn that impostor syndrome). But most of your worries went away when you met the team, you would never imagine that the best profilers in the FBI and maybe in the world would be such good, kind and even funny people. They all welcomed you, seeming excited to be able to work with you, except from one of them.

Doctor Spencer Reid, you had read about him and his genius mind, you even went to a couple of his lectures on forensic psychology, honestly? You were a fan, and you were so excited to meet and work with someone you looked up to. Unfortunately, he didn't seem as eager to meet his new coworker. He just stood there in the back, staring at you while you introduced yourself to the team, the most he did was mutter a “morning” when you sat next to him in the briefing room.

Never meet your heroes, they say.

Now, you're back at… Where are you again?

Your eyes begin to open, you're completely adrift until you finally begin to recognize the awful white light, and the coldness of the room. You're at the hospital, no idea as to how much time has passed.

Jennifer comes into your line of vision, holding your hand, “Hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is calm, as she watches you sit up in the hospital bed.

“I'm fine, I think... I didn't even realize what happened back then. Oh shit, did you guys catch him?” You abruptly try to sit up, remembering how you couldn't get the unsub when you got shot, guilt washing over you as you started to piece together what happened

“Hey slow down, Emily went after him and made the arrest, the victim was rescued. He shot you, but it just grazed you. You did lose a lot of blood, that's why you passed out, but the doctors say you'll be fine to leave today. Don't worry.” She says as the doctor comes in to do his final checking.

You just agree with your head, lost in your own thoughts. You knew it wasn't your fault that you got shot, but still you felt so stupid. The hurt of not being able to catch the unsub might've been even bigger than the one from your wound, all of them had been in even more difficult situations than you and made it out without so much as a scratch, and you couldn't even catch an unsub that was alone?

After a few hours, you were back on the jet, finally heading home. The guilty was still bothering you, and you even apologized for the mistake. Hotch just asked you to be more careful and follow instructions next time, but overall, the team seemed genuinely happy you were fine. Except, of course, for Spencer, who ever since you got in the jet was staring daggers at you.

Later, the jet finally landed, and you were eager to get home. You quickly went to the office to get a few of your things, Unfortunately, you and Spencer were now all alone in an uncomfortable silence waiting for the elevator.

“That was reckless” Spencer mutters under his breath

“I'm sorry, what?” You turn in your heels to face him, had you heard that right? Is that the first thing he's going to tell you after you just got shot?

“What you did on the case, was reckless and naive. You should've followed our instructions, you can't just do what you feel like doing” he's looking in your eye now, his voice coming out angry but with a hint of… worry?

“I'm sorry ok? I tried to do something, I just did not want to just stay there waiting while he could be doing god knows what inside that house” Your voice comes out more shaky than you wanted it to, the weight of the guilt pressing into your chest

“Still, it was reckless and stupid, you should never just storm into, alone, a place where an unsub might be, you never know what he might do to you, what might be waiting inside.” His gaze is cold, almost as if he's not actually here talking to you, but somewhere inside his head and his memories.

“Trust me, I know that. I regret my decision, but I wasn't doing what I felt like, I tried my best, Reid.” You turn to look directly in his eye. Yes you did something wrong, but you wouldn't let him out of all people talk like that to you “I might be the youngest on the team, the one with less experience but trust me… I'm not dumb, I earned my place here.” Your voice shaky when you said that last sentence, the insecurity you felt showing through your words.

Something in his gaze shifted after that, his expression became softer, almost sympathetic. “Listen, I'm not saying you're not qualified, I'm sorry if it came off like that, just be careful… That could have ended a lot worse, trust me I know”

“ I will” The air between you two less intimidating now but still heavy with tension, you two step in the elevator, the whole way to the garage an awkward silence until you two finally reach the bullpen's garage.  

Even thought you felt like now maybe he didn't absolutely want you gone from the team, you were still curious as to why he is so cold to you

“Sorry, I need to ask… Why do you hate me?” You turn to him, after finally gathering the courage to ask this question

“What do you mean, don't hate you”

“Yes you do, I mean you're not obligated to like me but since I joined, you didn't even meet me yet and just gave this cold look”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed your words, clearly taken aback by your directness. He sighed, a hint of regret in his eyes, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "It's not about you personally," he finally admitted, his voice softer than before.

“What is it about, then?”

He takes a deep breath before starting to talk “You're only 3 years older than me when I joined this team, I know what it does you, to your mind. I guess I just saw way too much of me, of who I used to be, in you, and it terrified me to be honest” His cold facade disappeared completely now, in its place a soft and genuine expression.

“So you were, and I'm sorry for the words, an asshole to me because you were worried?” You almost can't wrap your head around it, all this time you felt like one of your biggest references in the BAU hated you, but instead he was caring for you.

“Yes, I see how it comes out as “asshole” behavior, but my brain just went full shutdown when i saw you” His face turns slightly red when he notices what he just said – Freudian slip or just a bad choice of words? He doesn't's know for sure – His hand goes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck “I mean… for the resemblance, of how I acted when I had just joined, of course”

You give him a small smile, and just like that your side that has been a fan and read all of this man's articles comes back to life “Of course. Thank you for worrying but maybe instead of hating me you could… I don't know, if it's not too much of a bother of course, help me? I value your worries Doc, maybe you could help me not make the same mistakes you did”

He nodded, a hint of relief washing over his features. "I'd be happy to help," he said, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "I might not have all the answers, but I can definitely share what I've learned along the way."

“I'm happy to hear that, thanks, Doc. Reid” You wave at him as you begin walking over to your car.

“Hey, just call me Spencer” He smiles warmly at you

“See you tomorrow Spencer”

[woozinhos]

i am obsessed w ur writing lol!!! could you do woozi phone sex ? pls <3

Ooo I’ve never tried this concept hope you enjoy it :D

Woozi is sitting in his studio, surrounded by music sheets and equipment. He's been working on a new track for hours, and he's feeling a bit restless. He glances at his phone, seeing that you've sent him a text. He smiles to himself as he picks up the phone, wondering what you want.

"Hey babe," he says, answering the call. "What's up?"

He can hear the sound of your voice on the other end of the line, and he feels a pang of longing.

"I miss you," you say, and Woozi can't help but smile at your words.

"I miss you too," he replies, his voice soft. "But I have to finish this track."

You pout on the other end of the line, and Woozi chuckles at your response.

"Don't give me that look," he teases. "You know I have to work."

But even as he says the words, he can feel his resolve weakening. He misses you, and the thought of you alone at home is making him restless.

"But I'm lonely," you whine, and Woozi can hear the hint of mischief in your voice.

He knows exactly what you're trying to do, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire.

"Don't start with that," he says, his voice a low growl. "You know I can't resist you when you're like this."

You giggle on the other end of the line, and Woozi can practically see the smirk on your face.

"Oh, I know," you reply, your voice sultry. "I just miss you so much, baby. I need you."

Woozi groans, his mind filling with images of you.

"You're going to be the death of me," he mutters, his hand clenching into a fist.

"I know," you say, your voice dropping to a whisper. "But you love it, don't you? You love the way I make you feel."

Woozi can feel his self-control slipping away, his body responding to your words.

"Yes," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I do. But I need to focus on this track."

You pout again, and Woozi can almost see the adorable expression on your face.

"But what if I want to focus on something else?" you say, your voice dropping even lower.

Woozi takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he warns, his grip on the phone tightening. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Oh, I can finish it," you say, your voice filled with confidence. "I just need to get you worked up first."

Woozi lets out a strangled moan, his body responding to your words despite his best efforts to resist.

"You're a menace," he mutters, his hand wandering down to his pants.

"I know," you say, your voice smug. "But you love it. You love when I make you feel good."

Woozi can't deny it. His hand is now rubbing himself through his pants, his mind filled with images of you.

"Fuck," he mutters, his breath coming in short gasps. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Good," you say, your voice dripping with satisfaction. "I want you to think of me. I want you to think of me touching you, making you come."

Woozi groans, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines your hands on him.

"You're evil," he gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand.

You can hear the sound of his labored breathing over the phone, and you know he's close to the edge.

"That's it," you say, your voice filled with encouragement. "Come for me, baby. Let me hear you."

Woozi's body tenses as he nears his climax, his hand moving faster and faster.

"Fuck," he groans, his voice hoarse. "I'm gonna come."

And then he's coming, his body arching off the chair as he lets out a long, loud moan. He collapses back in the chair, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

"Damn," he mutters, his voice still ragged. "You're incredible."

You laugh softly on the other end of the line, satisfied with the effect you've had on him.

"I know," you say smugly. "You're not so bad yourself, you know."

Woozi chuckles weakly, still trying to recover from his intense orgasm.

"I don't think I'll be able to focus on this track now," he admits, a smile playing on his lips.

You giggle, clearly pleased with yourself.

"Good," you say, your voice playful. "I think you need a break anyway."

Woozi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"I suppose you're right," he admits. "But now I'm just going to be thinking about you the whole time."

"That's the point," you say, your voice low and sultry. "I want you to think about me all the time. I want you to miss me and crave me, even when we're apart."

[enchantedflameandflower]

Billy x you ❤️ 18+

this is what happens when I try to take a 20 minute nap. NSFW, more of the same 🫠 piv, oral f!receiving, soft!dom Butcher, cock warming, creampie

Billy’s been edging you for at least an hour. You’re a gasping, babbling mess, and fuck it’s so good. He has you spread out naked across his bed, his rough hands pressing your thighs apart as far as they can go, or maybe just a little farther. But the stretch only adds to your pleasure and he knows it. 

Your fingers comb through his messy dark hair as he plays with your clit using the tip of his tongue and the flat of it, using his full lips and sometimes his nose when he shoves his tongue inside you. You whimper and moan and cry, and he just rumbles or gives a low lazy chuckle. 

Finally, he glances up at you then pushes three thick fingers deep into your cunt. When he laps at your throbbing clit again and thrusts against that perfect spot inside, you come so hard your vision goes fuzzy and you almost black out, weeping and mewling unintelligible sounds. 

Billy groans and flips you onto your tummy even while you’re still gasping and trembling from the orgasm he just gave you. He tugs on your hips, pulling you to your knees and slides his cock all the way in with one deep thrust. You moan again as your cunt flutters around his thickness, only feeling the pleasure immediately start to build again. 

Grabbing onto the pillow under your cheek, you try to hold on, try to catch your breath but Billy is unrelenting when he has a goal in mind. “Such a good girl f’me,” he husks when you obey so willingly. 

Pushing your hair over your shoulder, he leans down to nuzzle the nape of your neck and let you feel his chest against your skin, but when he straightens again, he has your wrist in his grip and he pins it to the small of your back, leaving you off balance and weak. He knows what it does to you when he takes control, letting you just feel. 

You try to say his name, though to ask him to slow down or fuck you harder you’re not sure, but once again you’re left just whimpering nonsense. 

It doesn’t much matter because in the next moment you’re coming again, your cunt squeezing tight around his cock and spurring his own orgasm. His groan is rough and deep and you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. If you could think. 

Your shaking legs make you collapse to the bed and he sinks down mostly on top of you, his weight a comforting heat, for now. Your head is empty, all you can feel is him and his come leaking onto your thighs and you know nothing and no one could ever make you feel better. 

Eventually he grunts and slaps your ass, helping you sit up so you can go into the bathroom. When you’re done you curl up under his blanket while he disappears. But he’s back a minute later and you feel him sliding in bed behind you. 

His cock is still hard, pressing against your ass and you’re immediately wet and ready for him again even though you’re almost asleep. 

“Billy…” you purr, your voice raspy from overuse. 

“Needy little thing, ain’t ya,” he grumbles, but you can hear the affection there. 

He pushes into you easily and starts a rhythm of slow, lazy thrusts. You try to squirm to get more friction but his big hand clamps down on your hip, holding you still. A little huff escapes you and then you start to slide your fingers between your legs, but he rumbles a warning. 

A deft movement from him and suddenly your arms are above your head and he’s holding both of your wrists tight with one hand. 

“I’m thinkin’ this is more fair innit?” he murmurs in a low voice against the shell of your ear as he continues to thrust. “You ‘lready ‘ad two, didn’t ya pet. Now daddy gets one more and we’re even, yeah?”

All you can do is whimper, which only prompts another deep chuckle from him. 

He knows your body. He knows all the ways to make you come so he knows how to make you not come as well. And that seems to be his plan. 

“My girl needs her rest,” he murmurs, biting and sucking at the curve of your neck. “Can’t give ‘er more than she can handle.”

“I can,” you beg in a soft voice. “…can handle…” But it sounds weak even to you. 

His answer is to continue his lazy thrusts, never quite hitting that spot that you need. After a minute he starts to thrust just a littler harder and then you feel his cock pulsing, filling you up as he groans against the curve of your neck. You can feel his seed hot inside you.

Another little whimper escapes you but it’s no use. His hand slides around to your stomach and he nestles you closer back against him, still thick and deep inside of you. You feel his breath begin to slow and he nuzzles against your shoulder. 

“Get some sleep,” he commands and you bite your lip.

“But…”

His cock twitches inside you and you huff a little breath. You can’t deny how good he feels and now that he isn’t moving your body is beginning to calm just a little. 

You take a breath but before you can say anything else, he’s rubbing his hand over your tummy, caressing your hip and relaxing you further. “Tha’s my girl,” he says in a low voice. “I’ll always give ya what ya need, an’ right now ya need sleep, love.”

You take a deep breath and finally nod, already feeling your mind starting to slip away. And he’s right. You can’t think of anything better than falling asleep with him still deep inside. You snuggle back into his warm body and think you’ve never been more grateful for the day Billy Butcher strode into your life.

@kus-babygirl @jynx15 @cassiopeia-grimm @karlurbanism @chocolategiverzombie

@smallsadjellyfish @weallhaveadestiny @butchers-girl @bobabilbil @dustie-faerie

(just let me know if you want a tag when I post fic! if I didn’t tag you and you wanted me to I am so disorganized and I’m so so sorry! I’m working on it just let me know!)

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Where You Belong

Fem!Reader When you move into a house with 8 men for six months, one seems to be do everything he can to make you stay. <pt3 pt4 pt5>

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

You felt the heat of his breath against your skin, the sensation grounding you in a moment that felt almost too vivid to be real. His hands, warm and steady and calloused, cradled your face with a gentleness that made your heart ache.

The closeness was suffocating in the best way- the way his lips brushed yours, hesitant but deliberate, made you forget about everything else. The way he made you feel was undeniable. It was safe and exhilarating all at once.

The way he touched you felt reverent- like every movement, every graze of his fingertips along your jawline, was a confession. His thumb lingered on the edge of your lower lip, and your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. The world around you faded further into obscurity, leaving only the press of his body against yours and the overwhelming heat between you.

When his lips claimed yours again, it was deeper this time- slow, exploratory, and unhurried, his teeth grazing into your bottom lip gently and leisurely, as if he was savoring every second. Your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the damp strands as you pulled him impossibly closer. There was no rush, no urgency, just a steady, all-consuming connection that left you breathless and yearning. His other hand trailed down your side, grounding you, sending a jolt through your veins.

His voice, low and gravelly, murmured your name like a secret meant only for you. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, afraid that if you let go, the moment would shatter. The haze around you made it all the more tantalizing, and you wanted to say his name, but it was stuck in your throat. Refusing to crawl its way past the same lips interlocked with his. Then just as it started to form-

BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP-

You were in your room, tangled in your sheets, the early morning light peeking through the curtains. Your alarm was beeping and you felt dizzy.

What was that dream?

Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath. It was just a dream, you reminded yourself, though the phantom sensation of whoever you were kissing's touch lingered, trailing goosebumps along your skin.

Pressing a hand to your flushed cheek, you tried to shake the vividness of it from your mind. It was so real… too real. But who was it?

It wasn't my ex...deep down I know...but who else...

The thought followed you as you stumbled out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen, still trying to piece together the fragments of the dream. You barely had time to orient yourself before you were bombarded.

“Y/N! Morning!” Jisung practically tackled you with a hug, his bright grin melting away the remnants of your sleepy haze.

“Ji, I just woke up,” you groaned, though you couldn’t suppress the small laugh bubbling up as he clung to you like an overexcited puppy, and you leaned in, his embrace becoming something you had quickly gotten familiar with the past month.

“Doesn’t matter! Morning hugs are mandatory!” he declared, finally letting you go. "We made you breakfast since its your late day."

You couldn't help but smile as you sat down at the kitchen island next to Jeongin who for some odd reason looked guilty. 

You rose and eyebrown and sniffed the air. 

"Jeongin..."

He didn't answer.

"Innie." 

Still no answer.

You sighed. 

"Yah, Oppa." 

The fox eye boy turned to you. "Yes."

"Did you use my shampoo again?"

"Why would you think that?" He asked with a serious face.

"Because it smells like green apples."

"Are you sure you aren't smelling the apple slices on your plate? You eat them so much you could become a green apple."

You stood up to sniff his hair. Not noticing the onslaught of eyes on you.

"Yah, is our baby bread finally making moves?" Chris teased but before he could answer you smacked Jeongin's arm.

"You dingbat! You smell like green apples- that shampoo set cost me fifty dollars! It's hair care repair!" You exclaimed emphasizing each word with a smack.

"Ah! I said I didn't- is that anyway to speak to your elder- AH HYUNG SHE'S CHOKEHOLDING ME-"

You didn't notice as a pair of quiet eyes zoned in on your interaction with the youngest man, as you interacted with anyone in the house.

They’d all welcomed you like family, with the exception of some awkward moments, but soon it just felt like a household of siblings, you being the baby and the girl. And moments like this did nothing but prove that dynamic.

But the adjustment wasn’t without its bumps. On both sides. Some bumps hidden, some more prominent.

Like balancing your own job while trying to navigate their chaotic schedules had left you stretched thin.

Still, moments like these made it worth it.

Felix’s pancakes, Jisung’s endless jokes, the way Hyunjin would teach you to paint on your off time like he was Bob Ross, the way Seungmin would tease you in his quiet, sharp-witted way, and Chris and Changbin treated you as if you were their sister- even the still tense moments you had with Minho it all felt like home in a way you hadn’t expected.

Even if you wish the moments with the latter would become eased. 

You overall enjoyed eveerything, from the busy mornings, to the late nights hearing the boys in their makeshift studio, even if it meant you got a few less hours of sleep. 

Overall it made you feel like you were getting your life back on track, to be fully on your feet in the next five months. 

But things had been going too well for too long, and that afternoon your world began to crumble before it could even truly begin to mend.

The conversation from your boss had been curt, impersonal:

"We’ve decided to move in a different direction. Effective by the end of today, your position has been terminated."

You rreplayed it over and over, hoping you’d misunderstood, but the words didn’t change.

The job you’d fought so hard to keep, the stability you’d clung to, was gone in an instant. 

Just like you had lost everything with your boyfriend in an instant, this was like a moment of Deja Vu. Yet somehow the feeling felt even worse than it had when your relationship of years went down the drain.

By the time you got back to the apartment, head filled with negative thoughts as you walked home from the bus stop in drizzling rain, tears were streaming down your face. You’d tried to hold it together, but the weight of it all was too much.

You stood at the doorstep of the front porch, letting it out, not wanting anyone to see you like this. You started to wipe your face, reaching for your key.

You didn’t even realize someone was there until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Chan, his expression soft with concern.

“Hey, what happened?” he asked gently, crouching slightly to meet your eyes, and setting his umbrella on the porch.

You shook your head, trying to wipe your tears away. But he reached his arms out pulling you into them.

"Its okay. You'll be okay."

The dam broke then, and you poured out everything. How you lost your job today and how it was making you feel. How it made you worried and how you were regretting everything. How you’d been feeling overwhelmed, and now burdened; how you weren’t sure what to do next. Chan listened intently, his presence solid and unwavering as he rubbed your back.

When you finally finished, he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got you,” he said firmly. “Actually, I was going to bring this up soon anyway, but now’s as good a time as any. We could really use someone to help manage our schedules and handle some of the day-to-day stuff. If you’re interested, the job’s yours. No hesitation.”

You blinked at him, the offer catching you completely off guard. “I...”

“Don't even think about saying no. Matter of fact...you start tonight."

"Chris..."

"You’re already part of the family, Y/N-ah. This just makes it official,” he said with a grin, petting your head real quick. 

You began to cry again and he pulled you back into his arms until you heard a voice from behind.

"Hyung-ah..." You turned to see Minho and Jisung looking at Chan. They'd visibly just come back from shopping, green apples and your favorite protein powder that Changbin had used up sticking out from the bag Minho was holding. 

Chris smiled and went to go help with the bags and you looked at Minho, something unrecognizable flashing through his eyes. Jisung quickly ran up to you, asking about some anime you two were planning on binging later, drawing your attention away from him.

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

Later that evening, after dinner, you found yourself sitting at the dining table, looking through a stack of potential venues for the next show the guys were planning. Chan had explained all that you needed to do for now and you were focused on doing your best to not disappoint.

The evening had settled into a calm silence after everyone ate and the boys had scattered around, some relaxing in the living room, others scrolling through their phones. It was easier to focus with the quiet; papers spread out in front of you.

The gig locations were a bit overwhelming, and despite your best efforts to focus, you felt a twinge of uncertainty. But you didn't feel uncertain enough to ask any questions just yet.

Minho approached you quietly, like a cat, his footsteps soft as he stood behind you. His gaze lingered on the papers for a moment, and then he pointed to one with a quick, no-nonsense motion.

He leaned over you and you tensed slightly.

“This one,” he said, his voice low. “It’s small. Good acoustics.”

You looked at the location he indicated, nodding slowly. It made sense now that you thought about it. More of an intimate environment, better for fan interaction. You wanted to ask if there was anything else to take into consideration, but before you could, Minho was already stepping away.

Without another word, he moved towards the kitchen. The sound of dishes clinking softly filled the space as he started cleaning up. It was a simple, quiet moment, but it felt...oddly intimate. You watching him do something so simple. You shook your head and turned back on your work, but your attention kept drifting towards him against your will.

Minho moved around the kitchen with ease, his broad shoulders and strong arms flexing as he scrubbed plates. The way he concentrated, the quiet focus in his actions, made you momentarily forget everything else. He was chewing on a piece of gum as he worked to tidy up, and the movement caught you eye more than anything.

Focus Y/N. You lucked out with this you need to focus...

Then, a soft sound caught your attention, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him setting a plate in front of you. On it, a series of apple slices, carefully cut into small, delicate rabbit shapes.

The green apples shimmered under the dim light, their crisp freshness promising a much-needed break.

“You seemed anxious at dinner,” Minho said, his voice almost absent, as though he hadn’t meant to break the silence at all. He turned back toward the kitchen, not looking at you.

You stared at the apples for a moment, feeling the quiet stillness of the room pressing in on you. You picked up a slice, biting into it, the tang of the green apple sharp and sweet.

As you chewed, your eyes lingered on Minho. He was still in the kitchen, but now he was moving with a certain rhythm- something soothing in the way he worked, purpose with every movement. The clink of the dishes, the hum of his focused energy, filled the space between you. Now did it not only feel oddly intimate but oddly comforting.

But at the same time, you noticed the tension in his posture, the subtle furrow of his brow as he wiped down the counter. He seemed lost in thought. There was something in his expression, a flicker of discomfort that you couldn’t quite place.

In the silence, you found yourself wondering what was going on in his mind. What was he thinking?

Minho’s hands paused on the counter for a second, his gaze drifting out the window, his brow still furrowed. You couldn’t read him, but there was something unmistakable in the way he seemed conflicted.

His mind was racing, and he knew it. He couldn’t quite place the odd feeling swirling inside of him.

Part of him was glad you were here, sharing space with him and the others. You were friendly, easygoing, and yet, there was something about you that got under his skin and irked him.

Was he jealous that you were becoming so close to the guys?

Was that it?

Or maybe it was just the awkwardness that had lingered from the first time he’d met you? He wasn’t sure.

But then, something shifted. It was a thought so fleeting, so strange, that it stopped him in his tracks.

When he had seen the apples at the store, he’d thought of you.

And for some reason, that thought unsettled him more than anything else.

“Maybe I’m just being a dick,” he muttered to himself, the words slipping out quietly. He was still scrubbing the countertop, but his mind was somewhere else, tangled in a mess of feelings he couldn’t untangle.

He was distant around you, so much so you seemed to be a little wary around him. But he was only distant because of this odd feeling. He had never been around girls all that much. Moving in with the guys at a rather early age. And he had much rather be in solitude than interact with others.

“Maybe I'm just not used to being around girls,” he thought, but it didn’t sit right. He knew that wasn’t entirely true. It couldn’t that simple.

And then the feeling hit him again- the odd tension, the confusion.

He wanted you around, he realized. He liked having you in the house, even though it irked him.

Maybe it was just the mess of new dynamics.

Maybe it was jealousy because it seemed to spike whenever you were hanging out with one of the guys. They had been his friends first.

So that was the most plausible solution, wasn't it?

Or maybe it was something else. He just couldn’t pinpoint it.

All he knew was there was something about you. Something that made him think about you when he sliced saw green apples, of all things.

Something that made him want to cut those apples into little rabbits, because he had seen you barely touch your plate.

Minho took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. There was no denying that whatever it was, he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Not now, not with the way you were sitting there, quietly eating the apples he’d prepared for you, as you scribbled something down, quietly bouncing one of your legs.

Is she always that anxious?

He let out a quiet exhale and turned back to the sink.

“I’m definitely overthinking this,” he muttered under his breath.

But...he wasn't exactly opposed to the thought of you being in his head.

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

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[leftoverghosts]

(challengers)tennisplayer!rafe x manipulativeprotégé!reader

warnings: nsfw!! cunnilingus, rafe f*cks reader in the v*gina with a tennis racket, curse words, obsessive rafe. probably others, so consume at your own discretion!!!! no y/n. not beta read.

nori says: i know that i kept promising this was on the top of my list, but here we finally are!!!! i am going to seek mental help. as always tell me if you like it! xoxoxo

word count: ~2,050?

The afterparty was a blur of lights, laughter, and champagne. You floated through it all, basking in the glow of your victory, the women’s US Open trophy still fresh in your mind. Art, your head coach, had been beaming, his pride unmistakable as he stood on stage and introduced you as “the epitome of tennis.”

Rafe had been there too, of course.

His brooding figure stood in the corner, nursing a drink, and his presence pressed down on you even from across the room.

You noticed him, as you always did, but chalked up his silence to his second-place finish in the men’s division—a tough pill to swallow for someone as fiercely competitive as him.

When you both retreated to your hotel suite, the atmosphere did not lighten.

Rafe's body leaned against the doorframe, arms tightly crossed over his chest as his gaze followed your every move. You could feel a dark energy pulsating off of him, unrelenting and dangerous.

“You’ve been quiet all night,” you said lightly, trying to cut through the tension. “Come on, baby, second place at the US Open? That’s huge.”

He scoffed, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Don’t patronize me.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not—”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he cut in, his voice sharp as a knife. “Jumping into Art’s arms like a goddamn bitch in heat. Do you have any idea how that looked?”

His words sliced through the glow of your win. “Rafe, I was excited. You know how hard coach and I have worked for this. It wasn’t about—”

“Not about me?” he interrupted, his tone bitter. “It’s never about me, is it? Not with Art breathing down my neck, not with Tashi looking at me like I’m some charity case, and definitely not with you parading around like any-fucking-body can just touch you.”

His voice dripped with bitterness, leaving you momentarily speechless. "That's not fair," you responded, your tone softer now. "We’ve all been by your side this whole time—especially me." It was true; you were a media darling, and Tashi had strategically sacrificed some of that adoration to clean up after Rafe and his wild, drug-induced behavior on multiple occasions.

“Have you?” he challenged, stepping closer until the space between you felt suffocating. “Because it sure as hell didn’t feel that way when you ran past me to hug Art after your win—like I was nothing. Just another loser in your storybook ending.”

“Rafe, stop,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered. “You’re twisting a simple hug into something it’s not.”

He didn’t stop. Instead, he closed the distance, his eyes locking onto yours with an ferocity that made your pulse quicken. “You don’t get it, do you?” he murmured, his voice dropping to something darker, quieter.

Before you could react, he moved. His hands gripped your waist, and in one swift motion, he pushed you onto the bed.

The world tilted as your back hit the mattress, the bounce jarring you. You barely had time to catch your breath before he loomed over you, his jaw clenched, his stormy eyes drilling into yours.

“You really didn’t think, did you?” he was simmering with anger.

“Rafe—” you started, but he cut you off, his hand pressing into the bed beside you, caging you in.

“Don’t,” he snapped, his face so close you could feel the heat of his breath. “Don’t say my name like that. Like you didn’t spend the whole night pretending I don’t exist.”

“That’s not what I was doing,” you said quickly, your chest tightening. “I see you, Rafe. More than you realize.”

“Then why the fuck do you make me feel like this?” he demanded, his voice raw and breaking.

He pulled back slightly, his hand brushing over your waist as if searching for control. “You let Art touch you,” he muttered, his voice trembling with restrained fury. “You let him claim you in front of everyone.”

Your stomach soured. “Art is my coach, Rafe. He’s like a father to me.”

“I don’t care,” he snapped, his voice cracking. “He looks at you like you belong to him. And you let him.”

You stared up at him, trying to keep irritation from bleeding into your tone. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” he shot back, his eyes blazing. “Because I want to kill him for touching what’s mine.”

The intensity of his words sent a shiver down your spine. You weren’t naive, nor were you the ‘good girl’ Art Donaldson thought you were. You’d been recruited onto his team by Tashi, who saw you for who you really were—her protégé. You, your little skirt and your overwhelming talent, were as much there to breathe life into Art Donaldson’s ego as you were for Tashi to watch you play some damn good tennis.

What’s more, you knew how Art felt about you.

Rafe wasn’t crazy—at least not about this. But you couldn’t let him have control. You couldn’t let Tashi, the reason you’d even picked up this sport in the first place, and her preaching about men being tools to wield, down. So, as much as Rafe’s emotions and obsession weighed on you, a strange joy stirred inside you from knowing you held the power to provoke his protective nature.

“Let me make it up to you,” you said softly, your voice smooth and placating. You were frustrated that he hadn’t brought home a trophy today, but with a little encouragement, he might still find his way. He might not land a career Grand Slam, but Tashi had once told you that, in the long run, if he were your husband, it was better for him to be a champion than not. “Let me make you feel good. I’m yours, Rafe. No one else can claim that.”

He froze, his gaze mellowing just slightly before the anger surged again. “Prove it,” he murmured, stepping back to gather the things he was going to use to torment you.

Terror and arousal coiled together in your stomach as you waited, your pulse thundering in your ears.

"Close your eyes," he commanded, and you snapped them shut, hearing him approach.

With expert hands, Rafe pulled you by the legs towards the edge of the bed and hiked up your cocktail dress. His fingers, adorned with his signature rings, trailed along your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine as goosebumps rose on your heated skin. He parted your legs and settled between them, his broad shoulders forcing them open even wider.

His fingers brushed over your lace panties, the delicate material already damp with your arousal. He traced the lacy edge, teasing, before hooking a finger under and pulling the flimsy barrier aside. Cool air kissed your exposed flesh and you whimpered, squirming against the rumpled sheets.

"Stay still," Rafe commanded.

You froze, breath catching as he explored your body, gliding through the evidence of your desire. Slowly and torturously, he circled your entrance with a thick digit, teasing and drawing out the aching need within you before finally pushing deep inside. His mouth descended on you, tongue swirling around your sensitive bud as he sucked it between his lips.

Your back arched off the bed as he hummed low in his throat, sending vibrations rippling through you.

A second finger joined the first, stretching you deliciously as his tongue continued to flick relentlessly over your clit, grazing it lightly with his teeth before circling it with the tip of his tongue in electrifying patterns that had you gasping and writhing.

"Rafe," you moaned, hips bucking against his face. In response, his other hand gripped your thigh, holding you still, open and exposed to his hungry mouth.

He worked you mercilessly, fingers pumping, twisting in just the right way to make your thighs quake. His tongue swirled and flicked, alternating between feather-light brushes and firm, focused pressure that had you seeing stars.

The pressure built tighter and tighter in your stomach.

"Oh God, Rafe," you whimpered, hands fisting the bedspread. The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth working you over filled the room.

He released your clitoris with a lewd pop. "That's it, baby. Let me hear you, I want the whole fucking hotel to know who's making you feel this good."

You were startled by the sudden sound of a condom being ripped open, and your heart thumped even faster with anticipation. Then, you felt something hard and sleek against your entrance. Bewildered, you opened your eyes and reached out to grab the object—your beloved tennis racket handle covered in a condom.

“Didn’t I explicitly instruct you to stay still?" He pushed your hand away with a swat. "You thought you could manipulate me with your sweet words and I would give in, didn't you?” He spat on your entrance for extra lubrication, shaking his head at you. "You're going to take this."

After a moment, you nodded your consent, but the sensations were unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

Rafe took his time, gently working the makeshift dildo in and out. He started slowly, letting you adjust to the unique shape and size, before gradually increasing his speed.

Your body quivered with delight as he angled the handle to stimulate your most sensitive areas. The condom covering the racket provided a smooth glide, allowing Rafe to thrust powerfully while still being careful. His other hand roamed your curves, leaving trails of tingling heat behind each touch

The stretch and fullness was divine. Soft moans escaped your lips with each plunge of the handle. Rafe groaned appreciatively at the erotic sight of the improvised toy disappearing into your depths again and again.

Rafe worked the racket handle further and faster, the ribbed grip plunging in and out of your dripping center, the friction bordering on overwhelming. You gasped and arched your back at the intense stimulation, hands gripping the bedsheets.

"That's it, take it all," he laughed. "Art could never fuck you like this, could he? I bet he fantasizes about pounding your tight little pussy with his wrinkled cock."

You could only moan in response, the vulgar words sending a twisted thrill through you as he violated you with the very tool of your trade. It felt so wrong but so incredibly good at the same time.

He chuckled darkly. "Old man probably can't even get it up anymore."

You shook your head, lost in the forcefulness of the sensations consuming your body. Art was the furthest thing from your mind right now.

"And what about Tashi, huh? You let her touch you like this? She’d love to shove her fingers in your greedy hole, make you her little bitch."

"N-no, only you Rafe," you choked out between moans, the crude language still heightening your arousal.

"Damn right. This pussy belongs to me." To punctuate his point, he bullied the handle in hard, burying it to the hilt.

Filthy wet sounds filled the room as Rafe set a ruthless pace, fucking your tender flesh with brutal thrusts. Your inner walls fluttered and clenched around the hard shaft, drawing it impossibly deeper.

"Shit, look at you, I bet you wish the cameras were here now. Let everyone see the women's champion getting off on her own racket like a desperate whore."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing unforgiving circles as the handle slammed into you.

"Art and Tashi can praise you all they want," he said lowly, possessively. "But never forget that I'm the only one who can wreck you like this."

With a few more well-timed prods, your body was overcome with ecstasy. Tears streamed down your face as you called out Rafe's name, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to work the tennis racket in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm for his own amusement.

As the aftershocks subsided, you collapsed. Rafe delicately discarded the handle and repositioned you so your head dangled over the edge. The sound of his pants unzipping echoed through the room as he freed himself.

He stroked, once, twice, then tapped his erection on your tear-streaked cheek to get your attention.

You struggled to focus on his expression— that maddening smirk.

"Open up, slut."

[sturnstarrz]

fwb!chris makes sure you stay quiet while you're in his dorm room...

the fading light from the late afternoon shines through the window, the sky outside a yellowish orange color from the beginnings of a sunset. music plays softly from the old stereo on the dresser, but it doesn't quite drown out the sound of your desperate whines underneath chris's hand as he covers your mouth.

he's making deep, short thrusts from behind you as you lay on your side. the blanket covers your bodies but the fear and embarrassment of getting caught lingers at the forefront of your mind. you can still hear the shower running, confirming that chris's roommate is still preoccupied, however you can't help the way your heart races with the thrill of him stepping out any minute and catching you two in the act. and it especially didn't help that chris's roommate was his brother.

still, chris didn't care. he hadn't seen you for the past two weeks, since you left campus during winter break to visit your family for the holidays. he couldn't stop himself from taking advantage of the first moment you two were "alone" in a while. the second matt closed the restroom door, his hands were all over your body, his lips on your neck, desperate and rushed.

"need you." he pleaded as he pulled your shorts and panties down just enough so he could slip inside you. "need you so bad, please."

and how could you protest? you wanted this as much as he did.

he was inside you in seconds, filling you up, the stretch stinging just a little from the time you were away. you almost forgot how big he was.

“you can take it can’t you baby? i know you can…”

his pace picks up, his hips bucking into you faster and reaching a spot deeper inside you. it feels so good that you let out a loud moan, immediately regretting it when his movements suddenly stop. "thought i told you to be quiet. d'ya wanna get caught?" he warned, removing his hand from your mouth and squeezing the side of your hip harshly.

"i-i'm sorry- don't stop." you plead, wriggling your ass against him, desperate to feel friction again.

he breathes hard onto your neck, letting you grind against him pathetically. "chris, please." you beg, and he still doesn't respond, allowing a few tortuous moments to pass by before moving again. this time, he places his large hand around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly. he thrusts into you harder then before, making you clench around him. you struggle to stay quiet, but you do, your sounds of pleasure coming out as hushed gasps. chris grits his teeth, his lips against the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you can be quiet for me just a little longer, sweetheart. i can already feel you getting close."

his words come out shaky as he feels himself nearing the edge as well, but his grip around your throat doesn't falter. you move your hips back to meet his thrusts, causing his head to spin and he leans down, sucking and biting into the soft skin of your neck. "aren't you? you gonna cum for me already?" he rasps and you nod frantically before you feel yourself come undone in his arms. he quietly coaxes you through your high and before you two have time to catch your breath, the bathroom door opens and matt steps out in a cloud of steam, walking past chris's bed to his own across the room.

"next time, do me a favor and try to contain your urges till I'm not in the room yeah?" he says with annoyance and your face flushes with embarrassment while chris laughs beside you.

read more here <3

[gf2bellamy]

worries — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you get hurt while catching an unsub and spencer is worried content warnings: multiple mentions of being held at gunpoint , cut on the cheek bleeding, an ambulance arriving

Your chest heaved as you leaned against the cool brick wall outside the building, trying to catch your breath. The world around you felt muffled, like everything had been wrapped in cotton. The distant hum of sirens, and the occasional crackle of a police radio faded in and out, none of it penetrating the haze in your mind. 

Your hands trembled as you wiped them down your thighs, but the movement did little to stop the shaking.

It had been barely five minutes since the unsub had been standing in front of you, gun raised and finger on the trigger. Five minutes since you’d stared death in the face. 

If it hadn’t been for Emily—her quick thinking, her precise aim—you wouldn’t be standing here now. The thought sent a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through your body, your heart racing all over again. You pressed your back harder against the wall, hoping the solid surface would ground you, give you something tangible to hold onto. 

A few minutes passed, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you stood rooted to the spot. The distant wail of approaching sirens grew louder, signaling the arrival of the ambulance.

The sound of a door creaking open caught your attention, and you turned to see Emily stepping out of the house. The moment her eyes landed on you, her expression softened. 

“You okay?” she asked, her voice low but filled with genuine concern. She placed a steadying hand on your back.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure if it was true. “Yeah, I think so,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. 

Emily’s sharp eyes scanned your face, and then she frowned, her brows knitting together. “You’re bleeding,” she said, gesturing to your cheek. 

Your hand instinctively flew up to your face, fingers brushing against a stinging sensation you hadn’t noticed until now. When you pulled your hand back, your fingertips were smeared with blood. 

“I didn’t even realize…” you murmured, your voice trailing off as you tried to recall when or how you’d gotten the cut. The events of the past hour blurred together in a chaotic whirlwind, making it impossible to pinpoint. 

“It looks deep,” Emily said, her tone firm but laced with concern. “You should get that checked out.” 

“I’m okay,” you replied, offering her a small, reassuring smile. 

Emily raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your attempt to downplay the injury. “Uh-huh,” she said dryly. “And I’m the queen of England.” 

Before you could protest, she gently but firmly took hold of your arm, guiding you toward the ambulance that had just pulled up. “Come on,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. 

“Emily, it’s just a scratch,” you tried, but she shot you a pointed look that silenced any further objections. 

As you reached the paramedics, Emily waved one of them over. “She’s got a deep cut on her cheek,” she explained, her hand still resting on your arm as if she thought you might bolt at any second. 

The paramedic nodded, motioning for you to sit on the edge of the ambulance. You relented, sighing as you felt the cool touch of antiseptic on your skin. 

Emily stood nearby, her arms crossed as she watched the paramedic work.

“Thanks, Emily,” you said softly, glancing up at her once the bleeding had been stopped and the cut bandaged. 

As you sat on the edge of the ambulance, watching the paramedic clean up their supplies, another car pulled into the scene.

The dark sedan came to a halt, and you immediately recognized Rossi stepping out.

Emily was the first to approach him, gesturing toward the house as she gave a rundown of the situation.

Rossi nodded, his expression serious but calm, while Spencer stood just a step behind them, listening intently. His arms were crossed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed every word. 

Then, out of nowhere, Spencer’s head snapped up, his gaze darting straight to the ambulance. His eyes locked on you, and something in his expression shifted.

Concern etched itself into every line of his face as he suddenly stepped away from the conversation, cutting off whatever Rossi had been saying mid-sentence. 

You watched him approach, his pace quickening with every step, and you instinctively stood up, even though your legs still felt a little shaky. 

“Spence, I’m okay,” you started, raising your hands as if to stop him. But the words barely left your mouth before he was standing in front of you, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to reassure himself you were really there. 

“Emily told me…” he began, his voice low and slightly unsteady. He swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides as he visibly tried to collect himself. “Emily told me you were held at gunpoint.” 

The worry in his tone hit you like a wave, and you felt a pang of guilt for being the source of his distress. “Spencer, I’m fine,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “It was scary, yeah, but I’m okay. Emily—Emily saved me.” 

For a moment, he just stood there, his lips pressed into a thin line, like he was wrestling with some invisible force. 

Then, without warning, Spencer leaned down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. 

The gesture caught you completely off guard. Spencer wasn’t usually one for physical contact, let alone spontaneous hugs.

And yet here he was, holding you tightly, his face buried in your hair as he whispered, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

You froze for a second, startled by the unexpected intimacy, before the warmth of his embrace began to sink in. Slowly, you lifted your arms, wrapping them around him as you hugged him back. 

His grip didn’t loosen right away—if anything, it tightened slightly, like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go too soon. His breath was warm against your hair, and you could feel the faint tremble in his hands as they pressed against your back. 

“I mean it,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” He trailed off, not finishing the thought, but the weight of his words hung heavy in the air. 

You hesitated, unsure of what to say that could possibly ease his worry. Instead, you tightened your hold, resting your cheek against his chest as you whispered, “I’m here, Spence. I’m okay.” 

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. His face was flushed, his usual awkwardness beginning to creep back in, but he didn’t let go entirely. “Sorry,” he said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.  

You shook your head, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Don't be sorry,” you said softly. “That was… nice.” 

Spencer let out a quiet, relieved laugh, finally stepping back but keeping his gaze locked on you. 

You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest that had nothing to do with the danger you’d just faced.

[asherraccoon]

Loud- Radioapple- Abused!Lucifer- hurt/comfort, fluff - Warnings: Past abuse, panic attack, fluff so fluffy that I gave myself butterflies so bad that it made me nauseous while writing

(Lilith was abusive to Lucifer in this au)

Lucifer was a pretty quiet person. He didn't speak unless he was spoken to first. Even then, his voice was very quiet. He was very anxious about talking to people and would avoid eye contact when speaking with someone.

One day Angel decided to ask Charlie about it.

“Why's your dad so quiet?” Angel asked, leaning on the wall with all four arms crossed.

Charlie hesitated for a moment. “It really isn't my place to tell…” she said quietly.

Angel watched as Lucifer quietly sat on the floor behind one of the couches in the lobby, a notepad and pencil in hand. Angel turned back to Charlie. “His behavior just… isn't what I'd expect from the king of Hell.” 

Charlie looked at her dad. “You should really stay out of other people's business, Angel,” she said to him, her voice a bit stern. “You don't need to know every detail about everyone. Especially not my father.” With that, Charlie walked away.

Alastor's ear twitched as he eavesdropped on the conversation. He looked at Lucifer, who was doodling on his notepad, and hummed. He teleported to the kitchen.

-------------------

Lucifer looked up at the cabinet the mugs were in. He huffed, annoyed by the height. He found a step stool and grabbed it, carrying it over to the cabinet. He set it down and stepped up onto it. “Stupid shelf… stupid height… stupid tall demons…” he mumbled to himself as he reached up for a mug. He grabbed his favorite one; A white ceramic mug with the words “Duck you” and a picture of a cartoon duck on it. He stepped off the stool.

Alastor appeared behind him. “Hello, there!” He said rather loudly.

Lucifer shrieked, dropping his mug.

The mug shattered, making a loud noise.

Lucifer yelped and held his hands over his ears, his tail and horns popping out. His body began to tremble, his tail wrapping itself around his leg. His ears were ringing from all the noise.

Alastor flinched at Lucifer's reaction. He hadn't expected that reaction. “My, how dramatic,” he teased. “I wasn't that scary.” He chuckled.

Lucifer was still trembling, hands still over his ears. He looked down at the shattered mug. His eyes widened and his breathing picked up. He mumbled something under his breath.

Alastor's ear twitched. “What was that, dear?”

“M sor…” Lucifer whispered out.

“Didn't quite catch that.” 

“I’m sorry!” Lucifer spat out. 

Alastor flinched. “And you are sorry for what?”

“I-I broke it…” Lucifer managed out. He looked at the broken mug on the floor. He slowly lowered his hands from his ears. His tail tightened around his leg. His body was still shaking uncontrollably. “I-I’m sorry…”

Alastor looked at the shattered ceramic. He hummed. “That should be cleaned up before someone steps on it,” He said. He used his shadow magic to clean it up. 

Lucifer hugged himself, his hands tightly grabbing at his arms, his claws nearly drawing blood from his skin. “I-I broke i-it… I m-made a m-mess… I’m bad… I-I…” Tears started to fall from his eyes.

Alastor’s ears twitched. “Lucifer.” His voice was quieter. It sounded a bit firm. He was trying to get Lucifer to listen to him. “Look at me.”

The firm tone only made Lucifer’s panic worse. Alastor was mad at him for breaking the mug and making a mess. Now he was going to get punished for it. That's what his mind was telling him anyway. He quietly turned to face Alastor, his head kept low, too scared to make eye contact.

Alastor crouched in front of Lucifer, sensing the angel’s fear. Perhaps appearing smaller would make him seem less intimidating. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Lucifer opened his mouth but no words came out. He took a shaking inhale, but that only made it worse. He let out a sob. He covered his mouth as another sob escaped. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Alastor instinctively reached out and caught him before he could seriously harm himself from falling on the tile floor.

Lucifer yelped as he felt Alastor grab him, his sobbing, breathing, and shaking only getting worse. Right now the only thing on his mind was that he was in trouble and going to be punished for it. Associating every touch with harm. 

Alastor made sure Lucifer was sitting safely on the floor before letting go of him. He sat down in front of him, his legs criss-crossed. “Lucifer, dear,” His voice was soft. A tone he didn’t use often. When Lucifer was failing to communicate with him, he sighed softly. “Perhaps somewhere safer is better,” He murmured. He gently placed a hand on Lucifer’s arm and teleported the two of them to Lucifer’s hotel room.

Lucifer whimpered. He didn’t really react much other than that. He was mostly dissociating. He wasn’t really here right now. He didn’t want to be here right now. He didn’t want to be here to feel the pain that he knew was coming.

“Lu,” Alastor said softly, waving a hand in front of Lucifer’s face. “Come back to me, darling,” He coaxed softly. 

It took a minute, but eventually Alastor managed to gently pull Lucifer out of his head and back into reality.

“There we go,” Alastor said softly, a gentle smile on his face. “I lost you there for a moment.”

Lucifer whimpered softly. He hugged his knees tightly, trying to hide his face in them. “P-Please…” He mumbled.

“Hm?” Alastor’s ears twitched. “Please what?”

“Please…” Lucifer struggled to get his words out. “N-No hurting…” he managed to whisper. 

Alastor’s ears lowered. “Why would I hurt you right now, dear?”

“I-I-” Lucifer tried to force himself to speak. “I…” When he couldn’t get his words to work, he just started crying even more.

Alastor hummed. “That’s okay. You don’t need to talk to me when you’re not ready,” He assured softly. 

Lucifer looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. His vision was blurry. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes. He stayed quiet. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Alastor wasn’t yelling at him or hurting him in any way. It wasn’t what he expected to happen. After a few minutes of silence, Lucifer spoke up. “W-Why a-are you… Not mad..?” He asked shakily.

“Why would I be?” Alastor asked. “All you did was break a mug. We have plenty of other ones and they can always be replaced.” He shrugged.

Lucifer was having trouble understanding. “B-But I-I did s-something wrong… Something bad…”

“You aren’t in trouble, Lucifer. No one is mad at you,” Alastor said. “It was an accident. It was mostly my fault, anyway. I apologize for scaring you.”

Now Lucifer was really confused. He wasn’t in trouble? And Alastor was blaming himself? And apologizing? He was struggling to understand all of this. He was getting overwhelmed and stressed out trying to understand and figure it all out.

Alastor could sense this. “Darling.” He took Lucifer’s hands into his, his grip being very loose and easy to get out of if wanted. “You’re safe,” he said. His voice was soft and soothing.

Lucifer felt like he was going to break at any moment after hearing those words. He was… safe..? Safe… Safe from Lilith. Safe from harm. Safe from abuse. “Safe..?” He whispered.

Alastor nodded. “Yes, Lucifer. You are safe here.” He gently squeezed Lucifer’s hands to reassure him. “Whatever it is that’s scaring you… it can’t get you here.” 

Lilith can’t get him here. He’s safe from her. She can’t touch him. 

Lucifer couldn’t help but start crying again. He was so overwhelmed with emotions and confusion.

Alastor let go of Lucifer’s hands. He offered a hug to the blonde.

Lucifer leaned forward, silently accepting the offer but not sure how exactly to respond.

Alastor gently pulled Lucifer close, holding the trembling angel on his lap. “You’re okay, dearest. Nothing can hurt you.” He whispered comfort to the poor thing, his touches delicate and comforting.

Alastor was surprisingly good at helping Lucifer calm down and relax. The blonde’s trembling had died down and his breathing had slowed. He wasn’t crying anymore either.

“Feeling better, mon amour?” The deer asked softly. He looked down at the little angel in his lap.

Lucifer was too tired to respond verbally. He gave a small nod, gazing up at Alastor with eyes filled with trust and admiration. He never felt so safe before. The softness of Alastor’s tone was incredibly soothing to him. The touches that felt so delicate and yet so protective at the same time made him feel cherished almost. 

Alastor gently ran a thumb across one of Lucifer’s tear-stained cheeks. He smiled sweetly. The blonde looked so exhausted. Poor thing had probably tuckered himself out from panicking and crying so much.

Lucifer felt his eyes get heavy and begin to drift shut. He whimpered softly, trying to keep his eyes open.

The deer demon chuckled quietly. “It's alright, darling. Get some rest. I won’t let anything hurt you,” He reassured Lucifer. 

Lucifer hummed. He trusted Alastor on this. He let his eyes close. He sighed contently as he leaned into Alastor, snuggling a bit closer. 

Alastor ran a hand through Lucifer’s hair soothingly. “Sleep well, mon cher.”

[yanderedollie]

he’s the only one i could call

“fuck.” i groaned, leaning my head back against the headrest.

i lightly slammed my hands down on the steering wheel and lowered my music.

my car had broken down a few cities over from my own.

i picked up my phone to check the time.

3am… of course it is. nobody i know is gonna be up right now to save me.

“this is what i get for neglecting the check battery light” i think to myself. my car stalled a few more pathetic attempts to start as i realized i didn’t have the money for a tow service right now either.

i glanced around and picked up my phone to check maps. maybe there’s a 24 hour diner, or somewhere i can stay till it’s a reasonable hour.

nothing. i wanna throw my phone after i check how far i actually am from my apartment.

as i try one last attempt to move around the map and find a savior my heart drops to my stomach, and leaps back into my throat once i realize just exactly where i am.

two neighborhoods over is his house.

i giggle to myself as an idea flashes in my mind.

before i continue i’ll give context.

the whole reason i’m even cities over from my own was because i took a drive to clear my head. to try and forget him.

i had been trying everything i could but he was always gnawing at my brain. always. and i had been trying to control my obsessive tendencies after our fall out.

i had been doing good but, stuck in a neighborhood so close to his house made my body ache.

my fingertips tingled in anticipation as they hovered over my phone screen.

i wondered if he was even awake. he never really had a great sleep schedule. i checked the time again… 3:05.. i hope he’s not with her.

i nibbled at the inside of my cheek before i threw all reason out the window…

it rang a few times before a familiar, sleepy voice, answered

“[name]?”

my breath caught in my throat before i answered

“hey… hey i’m sorry i know it’s late- were you sleeping?”

“yeah but it’s fine.. are you okay? why are you calling?”

i smiled to myself. he still cares.

“i’m fine! i’m okay! swear. it’s just my car broke down really close to you. everyone i know is asleep…”

i trailed off. i probably sounded so desperate. it dripped off of me.

“[name].. i’m with my girlfriend.. cant- cant you call a tow service?”

i bit the inside of my cheek again. hard. i don’t care about his girlfriend. i’ll kill her.

i shook my head and nervously played with a loose thread at the end of my dress

“i.. uh.. dont have that kind of money right now.”

i sound genuinely pathetic

“i see… uh.. okay um i can come help you. just send me your location… and [name]?”

“hm?”

i practically whined at the idea of him coming to rescue me

“i’m just going to jump start your car and leave okay? please don’t make this a.. a thing”

that stung. i swallowed hard and nodded like he could see me

“yeah. it- it wont be.”

my phone beeped indicating he ended the call. i squirmed in my seat as i sent him a pin of my location.

make it a thing? what the fuck?

i wanted to rip out his throat.

shifting uncomfortably i waited outside in the cold. i leaned up against the drivers side window, shivering and pathetic.

when his cars headlights pulled onto the street i was on i felt my heartbeat quicken and my body tingle.

i was starving.

“hey..”

he said, walking up to my car with cables in his hand

“hi…i’m sorry again about this.”

i smiled softly at him. he always liked when i smiled at him that way… i hoped he felt something. anything.

he smiled back and i swear i could see his eyes linger over my body for a little too long

i felt like pouncing on him like a predator catching its prey.

“no worries. i told my girlfriend i’d be quick so, lets do this”

i felt rage flicker in my gut. stop fucking talking about her.

“right..”

i clearly sounded upset but i didn’t care.

my bones ached as i watched him attempt to jump start my car. he looked as gorgeous as ever.

it started pretty much instantly and i panicked. he couldn’t leave yet. no, no, no, not yet.

“w-wait!”

i practically yelled at him

he stopped abruptly, clearly taken aback by my sudden outburst

“what?!”

he was visibly concerned. never mad. he never really could get mad at me.

i felt tears well up in my eyes

“don’t leave…please.. i’m-i’m sorry. it’s been so long since i've seen you. i had to see you. i can’t stop thinking about you. please please don’t go…”

i felt so many emotions bubble inside of me, i felt like i was going to burst

he stared at me for a long time… then.. he smiled.

“cute.”

i swallowed and looked down at my feet

“stop. i’m sorry. that was really stupid.”

i didn’t look up but i heard him take a step towards me

“[name]….”

i looked up. he was right in front of me, closer to me than he had been in months.

i clenched my jaw. i could smell his cologne and my knees nearly buckled.

“stop it!”

i stepped back. i wanted him so bad but i knew it was wrong. i wanted to kill his girlfriend and rip out his throat, but i was trying so hard to be better. i was really trying

he let out a soft laugh and reached for my hand

“i guess i’m the one making it a thing…”

he held my hand in his so gently i felt myself melt.

“no. we can’t…”

i sounded small, pathetic, desperate. i clearly didn’t mean a word.

“hmm”

he hummed gently, moving his hand up to brush some loose hair behind my shoulder and trace my neck

“why not?”

i didn’t answer, i just held his gaze. it was so intense i nearly looked away.

i knew i could eventually get him where i wanted him…but.. i didn’t think it'd be this easy.

i shivered at his touch and something flickered in his eyes

“you look as beautiful as ever. i like this dress on you..”

he sounded starving now.

“it’s new”

i squeaked.

“mm very pretty, doll”

i let a whimper escape my lips at the nickname and he grinned

“come here.. let me warm you. it’s so cold out here…”

i stepped closer to him without a second thought. anything he wanted i would do it. anything at all.

he wrapped his arms around me and i couldn’t contain myself anymore.

i tangled my fingers into his hair and pressed my body against his, whimpering in the process.

i needed him bad. primal. animalistic

his hands roamed my body, grabbing and groping every part of me.

my breathing quickened as i melted into his touch.

“please..please”

was all i could manage to moan out.

he was barely touching me but i felt my pussy throb and dampen at every grab and tug from his hands

“you’re so pathetic. it’s adorable”

he cooed into my ear before nibbling it a little

we were still outside leaning against my car, his hand travelling up my dress and teasing the waist band of my panties

“[name]… please..”

i couldn’t control myself around him. he was so warm. so sweet. so perfect.

all of a sudden he pulled away tugging my body towards his car. fast.

i barely had time to register what was going on before i was in the backseat and he was looming over me.

i could see glimpses of him in the moonlight. he looked so disgustingly perverted and hungry for me. i fucking loved it.

“you’re such a fucking tease in this little dress. begging me to come save you, to rescue your pathetic ass…”

he said in breathy whispers as he groped my tits and pinched my nipples through the fabric of my dress

i moaned loudly and squirmed underneath him, feeling his hard cock pressed against my thigh

“i can’t believe you [name]. i can’t believe what you do to me”

he quickly slipped the dress off of me and his mouth was on my naked body in an instant. digging his nails into my waist and leaving sloppy, uncoordinated kisses, over my chest and stomach

“mmm… fuck… [name]… please just use me however you want”

i whimpered pathetically each time he moved his mouth or hands

“oh i will.”

i could barely stay conscious between his hands wrapped around my throat and him rubbing his thick cock against the fabric of my panties

it all felt so good i nearly came just from that alone

he ripped my panties off and shoved his cock into my dripping pussy with one swift motion, i saw stars

i coughed and sputtered from the pressure on my neck as he rammed into my cunt

“oh my god.. fuck.. [name] you feel incredible”

he released his grip on my neck to move a hand down to my aching pussy

he gently rubbed my clit as he pumped in and out of me and i could’ve sworn i saw god.

i whined like a pathetic dog as he violated me in ways i had never experienced from him before.

i knew our past sex was good but holy shit

“[name].. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry”

he apologized profusely as he struck me across the face and rammed into me harder

“you’re just so pathetic, i can’t help myself…”

all i could get out was pathetic whines as i looked up at him with desperation.

i wanted more. i wanted everything he could give me. whatever he wanted to do i would take it and i would love it.

“fuck. fuck. fuck. [name] you’re so tight”

he groaned loudly as he rubbed my clit faster

i clenched around his cock as i felt him release a huge load of hot cum inside my womb

i came at the same time, my pussy spasming on his cock as we both let out animalistic groans and pants, clinging to each other like this would be the last time

it was never the last time.

“oh my god..”

was all he could manage into my ear as he collapsed on top of me

i could feel our heartbeats colliding into one, pounding against both of our chests

i laid there staring up at interior of his car, catching my breath

i had asked him to come rescue me in hopes that maybe he’d feel something for me when he saw me

i asked him to save me because i needed to see him

come to find out…. he felt the exact same way

i smiled to myself as he played with my hair, still laying on top of me and softly breathing into my neck

we hadn’t spoken a word to each other yet but, i knew.

i knew he felt the same way i did

all this time i thought he had moved on

but we were just as desperate and perverted for each other as we had been back then

i really need to kill his stupid girlfriend. then he’ll be mine forever.

so much for “getting better”

i never will as long as he’s breathing. i never wanted to in the first place.

“i love you [name]”

he sighed softly, placing a gentle kiss on my neck

“i love you too”

i will never let my darling go… ever. again.