#but i was just a rebound he lied

[palesoftangel]

you'll meeeeevvaaaaa catch me in that i can fix him era ever again

[honeyhotteoks]

always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date. 

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either. 

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers. 

You just wish you never told Mingyu. 

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid. 

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure. 

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you. 

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it. 

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile. 

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth. 

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought. 

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you. 

You do fast math, panic math. 

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home. 

Your stomach churns. 

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you. 

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain. 

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this. 

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots. 

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call. 

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing. 

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride. 

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box. 

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone. 

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,” 

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?” 

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?” 

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop. 

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys. 

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops. 

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,” 

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” 

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,” 

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming. 

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first. 

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress. 

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care. 

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless. 

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.  

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately. 

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. 

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse. 

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill. 

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air. 

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather. 

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way. 

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?” 

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,” 

He blinks, “y/n,” 

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,” 

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality. 

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you. 

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,” 

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position. 

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.  

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?” 

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red. 

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I know,” 

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.” 

Oh. 

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,” 

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words. 

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,” 

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact. 

“I know,” You sigh. 

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?” 

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,” 

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish. 

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,” 

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.” 

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,” 

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait. 

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory. 

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,” 

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone. 

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,” 

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little. 

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,” 

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road. 

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,” 

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile. 

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,” 

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,” 

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?” 

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,” 

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave. 

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,” 

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in. 

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain. 

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.” 

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?” 

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,” 

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,” 

“I know,” You breathe. 

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?” 

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,” 

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,” 

 “I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,” 

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,” 

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?” 

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.” 

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly. 

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,” 

His hand tightens on yours. 

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,” 

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour. 

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you. 

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,” 

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,” 

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.” 

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,” 

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green. 

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,” 

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty. 

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,” 

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?” 

“Shut up,” He sighs. 

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?” 

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,” 

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,” 

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,” 

He grimaces, “Ugh,” 

“Exactly,” 

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,” 

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal. 

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?” 

“You want to come up?” 

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol. 

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times. 

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,” 

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here. 

“So,” He clears his throat lightly. 

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,” 

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride. 

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding. 

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go. 

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,” 

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands. 

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps. 

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,” 

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,” 

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,” 

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?” 

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,” 

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom. 

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself. 

But then he laughs again. 

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?” 

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf. 

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,” 

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign. 

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile. 

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,” 

He nods, “I remember,” 

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,” 

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,” 

“Mm,” You laugh. 

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee. 

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise. 

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’” 

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,” 

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,” 

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little. 

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,” 

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,” 

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?” 

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,” 

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you. 

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,” 

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back. 

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue. 

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.” 

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,” 

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” 

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee. 

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question. 

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods. 

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”  

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash. 

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,” 

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply. 

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning. 

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it. 

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him. 

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least. 

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” 

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,” 

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,” 

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,” 

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has. 

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours. 

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist. 

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?” 

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird. 

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?” 

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in. 

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,” 

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you. 

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,” 

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,” 

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw. 

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,” 

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already. 

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants. 

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss. 

“God,” He shivers. 

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,” 

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away. 

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,” 

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,” 

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back. 

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,” 

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth. 

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart. 

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms. 

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip. 

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?” 

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small. 

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,” 

“Okay,” 

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?” 

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards. 

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.” 

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,” 

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze. 

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,” 

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?” 

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,” 

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,” 

“Yeah,” 

“And you wanted me?” 

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,” 

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,” 

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,” 

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity. 

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,” 

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out. 

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,” 

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat. 

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,” 

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders. 

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,” 

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,” 

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again. 

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,” 

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,” 

“Baby?” 

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,” 

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley. 

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,” 

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?” 

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,” 

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you. 

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,” 

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?” 

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?” 

“Please,” You whisper. 

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric. 

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess. 

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,” 

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else. 

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,” 

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,” 

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,” 

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises. 

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,” 

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again. 

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction. 

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently. 

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,” 

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,” 

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

  “Can I eat you out?” 

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,” 

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you. 

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you. 

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,” 

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze. 

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,” 

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile. 

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” 

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly. 

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,” 

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly. 

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,” 

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?” 

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam. 

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip. 

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this. 

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.  

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little. 

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,” 

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?” 

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high. 

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?” 

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” You kiss him back. 

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast. 

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,” 

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,” 

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?” 

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,” 

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?” 

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,” 

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,” 

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,” 

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,” 

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth. 

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,” 

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,” 

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. 

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you. 

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,” 

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,” 

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts. 

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap. 

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,” 

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,” 

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder. 

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit. 

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,” 

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,” 

Everything you are is trembling in his hands. 

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,” 

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin. 

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,” 

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open. 

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,” 

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,” 

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,” 

He sighs, “This pussy,” 

“Cheol,” You blush hard. 

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,” 

“Anything?” 

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.” 

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?” 

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,” 

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,” 

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench. 

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen. 

You want him inside you so badly you could cry. 

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his. 

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder. 

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs. 

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,” 

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,” 

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,” 

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?” 

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder. 

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?” 

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand. 

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,” 

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls. 

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper. 

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,” 

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,” 

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

Your muscles clench down around his fingers. 

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?” 

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,” 

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?” 

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again. 

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,” 

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you. 

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz. 

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again. 

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you. 

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams. 

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go. 

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease. 

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms. 

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,” 

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?” 

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,” 

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?” 

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone. 

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,” 

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him. 

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,” 

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock. 

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,” 

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him. 

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,” 

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him. 

He nods, just a little. 

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,” 

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers. 

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this. 

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,” 

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?” 

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,” 

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs. 

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel. 

“y/n,” He pants tightly. 

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down. 

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,” 

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early. 

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,” 

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,” 

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again. 

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips. 

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest. 

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,” 

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,” 

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards. 

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,” 

Your eyes slam shut. 

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,” 

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming. 

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”  

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,” 

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

  “So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss. 

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,” 

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm. 

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,” 

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you. 

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,” 

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together. 

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move. 

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,” 

You laugh against him, “Next time?” 

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,” 

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,” 

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,” 

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly. 

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,” 

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,” 

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,” 

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,” 

“Good,” He sighs. 

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,” 

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,” 

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs. 

Maybe you could rally. 

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,” 

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,” 

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing. 

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed. 

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. 

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine. 

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads. 

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,” 

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest. 

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake. 

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention. 

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,” 

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,” 

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,” 

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,” 

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,” 

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups. 

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,” 

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,” 

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?” 

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest. 

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,” 

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog. 

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel. 

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,” 

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks. 

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,” 

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,” 

“You what,” You blink. 

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,” 

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go. 

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,” 

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side. 

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue. 

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,” 

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you. 

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,” 

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap. 

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,” 

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?” 

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,” 

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand. 

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,” 

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,” 

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch. 

[nadvs]

home before dark (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

After Rafe leaves, you make sure every door and window in your home is shut and locked.

You don’t know if Ty would do something as crazy as break in. But there was a time you’d laugh in disbelief at the thought of him hurling insults at you and that was all he did by the end of your relationship, so you’re not taking any chances.

Beneath the fear he impales you with lies a sense of betrayal. He was so good at pretending to be kind. Only a monster could put on such a convincing act just to break your heart.

When you tell yourself he’ll move on soon, you hate that it feels like false hope.

You text Sarah to let her know you made it home and that you’ll see her at tonight’s beach party. Even though Ty will probably be there, you don’t want him having any more power over you than he already has.

You’re determined to have fun. To have a life. Especially because you have someone protecting you now.

Rafe is unnerved as he stands on the beach under the starry sky that night, surrounded by the guys he parties with all the time.

The crowds and the conversations are all the same, but everything is different now. Because he’s looking out for you and it gives him something he hasn’t had in a long time. Purpose.

It’s disorienting to Rafe, going from avoiding you to keeping his eyes on you so persistently. From afar, he watches you laughing with your friends and now that he has a reason to, he takes you in completely.

He’d be an idiot not to admit that you’re beautiful. But he always knew that, no matter how hard he pretended not to notice you.

You slowly drift further away into the crowd. Rafe continues checking on you, keeping you in his sights.

Later on in the night, you’re in deep conversation with Sarah. Being three years her senior, you were much closer to Rafe when you were kids, but now you’d consider her a good friend.

When her eyes widen at something behind you, your body goes cold, expecting the worst. You turn to see your ex approaching you, a nearly empty beer bottle in his hand.

“Where’s Rafe?” you ask Sarah, hushed.

“Rafe?” she echoes in confusion. While she knows all about your ex, you haven’t had a chance to tell her that her brother is helping you put on a farce. You’re sure she’ll be in disbelief when you catch her up.

“Hey,” Ty says gently, his hand at the small of your back. The sensation you once welcomed makes you sick. “Can we talk? Please? I’m sorry about last night.”

It’s no surprise. You’re used to him yo-yoing between belittling you and putting on his nice guy act.

“No,” you respond, twisting so that his hand slips off of you. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?”

The booze in his system slows him down, but Rafe treads through the sand to you as fast as he can the second he sees Ty talking to you.

Suddenly, Rafe’s broad back is in front of you, a wall separating you from the man who’s tormenting you. When Rafe’s there, you realize Ty doesn’t scare you at all.

“Fuck off,” Rafe mutters.

Ty drunkenly staggers back, creating several feet of distance between you. His face contorts with annoyance.

“You know you’re just a bullshit rebound, right?” Ty calls. You look back at Sarah, who’s watching the exchange in confusion.

“I can’t hear you when you’re running away from me, pussy,” Rafe taunts.

Anger churns inside you at Ty’s words, prompting you to grab Rafe’s hand. You know Rafe couldn’t care less - after all, this relationship is all an act - but Ty calling him a rebound, insinuating that he’s meaningless to you, bothers you.

You pull him away, cupping his fingers with both hands.

Rafe was an inch away from chasing Ty and swinging at him. If it wasn’t for the alcohol blurring his senses, his fist would be aching right now from driving it into Ty’s jaw.

His entire body is stiff with rage, but for once in his life, the tension is dissolving instead of building up onto itself. It’s from the way your hands feel on him.

“What an asshole,” you say. Even though you should probably let go of him, you can’t.

Your touch is so warm. Rafe wants to ask why you reserve kindness for him after he shoved you out of his life. He wishes he could wipe it from his memory, the look on your face after he denied your every effort to talk to him. You grew up, but the disappointment in your stare never changed.

But he doesn’t know how to say all this. He doesn’t talk like that. With anybody. He couldn’t even talk to the therapist his father took him to see after it happened.

Maybe if he had asked him why he couldn’t so much as look at her, Rafe would have told his dad that the therapist’s blonde hair and gentle tone reminded him too much of his mother.

But after she told Ward that Rafe “wasn’t responding to therapy”, all he did was angrily yank his son out of the office, his grasp tight and painful.

Once they made it home, Rafe tearfully rushed to his parents’ bed to try to smell his mother on her pillow even though the sheets had been washed.

He spent most of his childhood pretending he was bigger than he was, eager to grow up. But he remembers nuzzling his head into her pillow that day, hyperventilating and thinking he was too small to know his heart could hurt this bad.

It felt like no time had passed when Rose came into the picture. Rafe knew his parents weren’t in a happy marriage, but he didn’t expect Ward to start seeing another woman so soon.

Rafe angrily confronted his dad, as if a ninety-pound kid could be any sort of threat. It was the first time Ward slapped him. He’s certain that it wasn’t the first time his father wanted to hit him, but his mother had always been his defence. And then in an instant, Rafe didn’t have her anymore.

You reach the shore together, far away enough from the crowd. You pull your hands away from Rafe and cross your arms, gazing at him under the moonlight.

“I wish he’d just stop already,” you say, shaken from Ty’s sudden approach. “Thank you. Again.”

“It’s fine,” Rafe says flatly. But he doesn’t walk away from you. He simply looks out at the dark sea with his hands in his pockets.

The waves crash beside you, the water climbing and retreating over the sand, threatening to wet your shoes.

The last time you stood together looking out at the water like this, you were kids skipping stones over the ocean’s swells. And because he’s not leaving, you take the opportunity to see if he’ll let you in, even just a little bit.

You crouch to pick up a small, smooth stone and try to skip it over the water. It immediately falls straight below the surface. You breathe a short laugh.

“That sucked,” Rafe says. His tone is lighter than what you’re used to.

“It’s been a while,” you retort. “And that rock wasn’t very flat.”

“Sure.” Despite himself, he cracks a smirk.

You can’t remember the last time you saw happiness on his face. He has his mother’s smile.

“You were better at finding the flat ones,” you say.

“I was better at everything.”

“And still so humble about it.” You haven’t joked around with him like this in so long that it feels new. “Prove it, then.”

“What?”

“That you can do better than me,” you say. “Get two skips, at least.”

Rafe keeps his hands in his pockets, looking down at the stones scattered atop the sand. The wind whips around you, threatening rain.

“We’re not kids anymore,” he rasps. If you want to take a walk down memory lane, you can do it alone.

He steps back, inviting the distance that lived between you for years to return. Yet another dismissal.

You step back, too. Your arms are not so much crossed anymore; you’re practically hugging yourself now. You need the comfort and he certainly isn’t going to give it to you.

“Did I do something wrong… before?” you impulsively say. Now that you have his attention, you find a shred of courage to ask him what’s been turning in your mind for years.

Deep down, you’ve always feared it wasn’t just the shock of what happened that made Rafe shut you out. Maybe you did or said something that deemed your friendship not worth keeping. Maybe you were too pushy. Or not pushy enough.

Rafe’s throat tightens. He never planned to have this conversation. He never wanted to.

You see his jaw clench. His silence is loud enough. It’s obvious he’s done speaking.

“Nevermind,” you say dejectedly. You turn, but his deep voice stops you.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his protective instinct kicking in again.

“Back to my friends,” you say.

“He’ll just bother you again,” Rafe states. “Come on.”

He tilts his head towards the side of the beach he was on. Looking at the group of the same rowdy guys you always see him with in the distance makes you frown.

No matter how much you’ve missed him, you know that standing silently next to him while he jokes around with his friends will just be a painful reminder of how he chose them and not you.

“I’ll be fine,” you say.

“It wasn’t a question,” Rafe snaps abruptly.

For the first time since you started speaking again, the compassion you always feel for him is overpowered by anger. You know he’s helping you, but his domineering tone reminds you of how Ty speaks to you.

“I’ll be fine,” you repeat. The cold tide reaches your feet, soaking your shoes.

Irritation pricks Rafe’s skin. For years, you’ve been trying to force conversations with him, and now, when he’s inviting you to stay by his side, you’re shutting him down?

As you walk away, the feeling of rejection screws a hole into his chest. Then he realizes that this is the cold, empty way he’s been making you feel for years.

“I know,” you say when you see Sarah, acknowledging her puzzled expression, linking arms with her.

You’re about to tell her this is all a game of pretend, but the risk of Ty finding out from anyone overhearing or her accidentally mentioning it to someone is too scary.

“What was that?” she says with a disbelieving laugh.

“Rafe and I… started talking again. The other night. And we’re seeing each other now.”

“Wow,” is all she can say. She glances across the beach, as if looking at Rafe will offer any sort of clarity.

You haven’t spoken much about him with Sarah. Years ago, you’d often tell her how much you wished he’d just talk to you again and she’d tell you he doesn’t talk to anyone anymore.

She knows your relationship with him is strained and basically non-existent. You feel bad for lying to her, but your fear of Ty is too big to take any risks.

As the night carries on, your ex stays away from you.

Before heading home, you separate from your friends for just a moment to throw out your cup when you see a figure approaching you.

Goosebumps grow across your skin as Ty passes by behind you, his keys jingling in his hand.

“You planning on hiding behind him forever?” he asks. “What’s gonna happen when he’s not around, huh?”

You stare at him with a scowl, hoping your face isn’t showing just how frightened you are.

To your relief, Ty continues on his way, crossing into the parking lot. You remember him picking you up in the car you watch him sit in now and how he acted like such a gentleman, all the while hiding who he really was.

He succeeded in scaring you. His words left you unsettled, tears pricking your eyes, your breath shallow. The thought of going home and sleeping alone fills you with dread.

Maybe it was just an empty threat. But maybe it wasn’t.

You need someone to stay with you tonight. You rush back onto the sand towards the other side of the beach.

Rafe’s gaze is fixed on one of his friends telling a drunken story. But then you appear, crossing the distance with a fear-struck expression.

“What’d he do?” Rafe mutters, his body tensing. “Where is he?”

“He left,” you respond. Your anxiety pushes you to hold his forearm for some stability.

“What’d he do?” he repeats.

“He… said some stuff,” you say, voice shaking. “Can you-”

“I told you to stay with me,” Rafe interrupts. He’s seething. This could have been prevented if you had just listened to him.

But the way you’re breathing and holding onto him, as if you’re lost at sea and he’s the only thing keeping you afloat, makes him regret snapping.

“And I didn’t listen because you yelled at me just like he does,” you mumble quietly, letting go.

The comparison stings. He shouldn’t blame you. He knows that. And now that the booze has worn off, he’d love a shot at Ty with nothing slowing him down.

Some of his buddies are watching you two in confusion. They’d never seen you together and now you’re clearly in a heated conversation. Just like a couple fighting.

“What were you gonna ask me?” Rafe says, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you.

You’re unsure if you should ask. But even with your home’s security system in place, who knows how long police would take to arrive after a triggered alarm? You need someone already there in case Ty is crazy enough to break in. Someone you know can protect you.

“Can you stay at my house tonight?“ you mumble. “I’m scared of being alone.”

Rafe falters. He agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend, and staying with you is a boyfriend thing to do, but the pressure of being in an empty house together after years of avoiding you makes him uneasy.

Yet, at the same time, the prospect of being completely alone with you gives him a sense of home that only adds to the confusion that’s been clouding in his mind.

“Did you drive here?” he finally says.

You know next to nothing about Rafe these days, but you do know that he does almost everything alone. He never arrives or leaves parties with people. It’s always just him on his motorcycle.

“I came with a friend,” you reply. “But I can wait until you’re ready to leave.”

His muscles lose some of their tension. You’d be willing to stand here and wait for as long as you’d need to just so you don’t have to be on your own. You’re desperate.

Rafe stays out until he’s exhausted. It’s how he makes sure the second he’s in bed, he can take a shot or do a line and fall asleep right away, giving no opportunity to be subjected to his thoughts.

But guilt is a powerful opponent and this is a fight he knows he’ll lose.

“Let’s go,” he sighs.

After you let your friend know you have a ride home, you make your way to Rafe’s motorcycle with him in silence.

He grabs his helmet from the boot, thoughtlessly about to put it on. But then he remembers he’s not alone for once.

He holds the helmet out to you. You hesitate, about to ask him if he has an extra for himself, but why would he?

“You sure?” you ask.

“Take it.”

“You don’t have to,” you say. Rafe sends a groan towards the starry sky.

“Goddamn it, do you have to be so difficult?” he mutters. The edge of his tone is cutting. You’re fed up.

“I know you’re doing me a favor, but could you stop being so rude about it?” you say.

Rafe exhales in frustration. Shit. He’s sure he’s acting just like your asshole ex again.

“Isn’t the whole point of this to keep you safe?” he says, softness in his voice. “Can you just put it on?”

You look up at him through your lashes. His forlorn gaze extinguishes the fire of your irritation and you relent, accepting the helmet, the shell cold and hard in your hands.

Rafe swings his leg over the bike, turning on the engine. He glances back at you as you put the helmet on.

You steady yourself and straddle the sputtering motorcycle. It’s nerve-racking placing your hands on Rafe’s hips.

With his feet on the ground, he drags his big hands over yours and guides them up to his abdomen.

“You have to hold tighter,” he half-shouts over the engine. You obey, your chest pressing against his back, your arms wrapping around his torso.

You wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is pounding. His t-shirt is so thin. His body is firm and warm.

You appreciate that he gave you his helmet, but you wish it wasn’t in the way now so that you could lean on him and press your cheek between his shoulder blades.

Your mind has run away from you. It’s odd craving someone who doesn’t seem to like you all that much. You still don’t even know why he’s helping you.

As Rafe drives out of the lot, slower than he usually would, he hates that he likes the feeling of you wrapped around him this much. He’s been pushing this sort of closeness away for so long. He didn’t know it could feel so good.

As he drives beneath the glowing streetlights, he can’t remember the last time he felt proud of himself like he does now. The relief that washed over your face when he told you he’d stay at your house is replaying in his mind.

While he’s the one protecting you, you’re giving him something, too. You’re pulling him away from the sense of aimlessness he lives in every day.

Rafe goes to his place first, stuffing the things he’ll need to sleep over into a duffle bag and draping it across his chest, before driving to your house.

When you step through the front door together, he watches you quickly enter your code into the security panel, then rush to shut and lock the door.

You’re clearly still so terrified. Rafe needs to know exactly what Ty did to make you act like this.

“What’d he say to you?” he breaks the silence, dropping his bag into his hand. “Tonight. What’d he say?”

You lean against the door, hands tucked behind you as you look up at him. It’s odd, Rafe being in your house. You never thought he’d be here again.

“He asked me if I’m gonna hide behind you forever and what I’ll do when you’re not with me,” you say. It makes Rafe want to kill the idiot with his bare hands.

“I’d call the police,” you continue, “but they don’t help unless he actually does something. Or if there’s proof that he’s planning to. I just hope he gets tired of it so you don’t have to keep doing this.”

Rafe wants to tell you he’ll be here for you for as long as you need him. It’s a shock that his knee-jerk reaction is to make a promise to anyone, let alone to you.

But it’s no surprise that your focus is on how this is affecting him. He still can’t figure out what could possibly make you think he’s worth the consideration.

“Where am I sleeping?” he asks, settling for the easy way out of the conversation.

You lead him upstairs to the guest room a few doors down from your bedroom. Rafe’s eyes travel over the family photos organized in a neat grid on the hallway wall, watching you grow up through every image.

His heart lurches at an image of four people on the beach. It’s you two as kids, surrounded by your smiling mothers. He hasn’t looked at a photo of his mom in years.

You notice the sound of Rafe’s footsteps stop and you look back to see him staring at a photo. You’ve memorized the wall by now, knowing exactly which one he’s looking at.

What can you possibly say? That you miss her, too? You can’t come close to understanding his grief.

His forehead crinkles, his Adam’s apple bobs with a hard swallow, and you swear you see him stop breathing for a moment. Then his gaze darts off of the photo and you silently lead him the rest of the way.

Rafe enters the room you take him to and swings the door behind him without a word.

You get ready for bed and settle under your covers. Knowing you’re not alone helps you doze off within minutes.

You’re in a deep sleep when a loud clang pulls you into consciousness. Immediately, you fear it’s Ty.

But once you hear the tapping on the window, you realize it’s storming outside. A roll of thunder is what woke you up. You check the time to see it’s nearly two a.m.

Thunder rumbles again as you slip out of bed. Your survival instinct is beckoning you to go check on Rafe, to make sure he’s still here in case you need him.

You turn on the hallway light and see that the guest room door is just slightly open. And the bed is empty.

Before you can jump to conclusions, you hear a laugh track spilling out of the television downstairs. He didn’t leave.

You’re pretty sure Rafe doesn’t want you disrupting his solitude. But you need to know why he’s doing all this for you. It’s been tumbling in your mind since he agreed to it. That’s what gives you the push to go downstairs and find him.

(part three)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[moonpascaltoo]

sirius black

MASTERLIST • THE MARAUDERS • 07/23/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

sirius black two

𑣲 heart stamp I @shadowbriar

A good for nothing like him surely deserve no soulmate, Sirius believes, but when the heart is starved of something, someone, the universe throws him into another round of misery.

𑣲 don’t leave I @14thgalerie

𑣲 little lies I @amiableness

James asks Sirius and Y/n to pretend to date after he blurts out they are to Lily.

𑣲 tulips part 2 part 3 I @/amiableness

After finding out Remus Lupin has found himself a girlfriend, a devastated Y/n L/n asks Sirius Black to help her get over him. Except Sirius has feelings for her.

𑣲 come back, be here part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 I @ellecdc

After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. How will Sirius react when he finally gets his love back, but you don't seem to recognize any of them?

𑣲 bartender!sirius I @moonstruckme

𑣲 bet trope I @ddejavvu

𑣲 borrowed sweaters, stolen kisses I @wizardwritings

In a game of Truth or Dare, you’re dared to sneak into the Marauders’ dorm and steal one article of clothing to wear the next day. It just so happens that the jacket you snatched was Sirius’ favorite jumper.

𑣲 lovesick!sirius I @theemporium

𑣲 sirius has a girlfriend I @/theemporium

𑣲 incident with a time turner I @robynlilyblack

When a confrontation with Peter goes wrong, y/n Potter is sent 10 years into the future

𑣲 rain I @/robynlilyblack

Y/n has been in love with James for years, watching painfully from the side-lines as he failed to woo Lily. When they finally get together she finds comfort in her best friend, as time passes she finds herself falling for him but will it end up the same way or will she get her happy ending this time?

𑣲 dulled I @finnwrld

When Arthur couldn’t go to the department of mysteries you had to go instead, knowing you are going to die you use your last amounts of straight to apparate to number 12 Grimmauld Place.

𑣲 puppy I @violetrainbow412-blog

𑣲 dealbreaker I @luveline

you work in a bookstore. sirius keeps finding reasons to need books.

𑣲 chatty!reader I @/luveline

𑣲 the unlikely pair I @daydreams-turned-into-nightmares

a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, both just recently been through breakups, uses each other as rebound dates to the Yule Ball, but the night ended with something a bit more

𑣲 if i tell you I @/daydreams-turned-into-nightmares

you’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you, but he’s too prideful to say anything, and you don’t want to just be another casual flirt. So, neither of you tell the other about your feelings for one another.

𑣲 hypocrisy I @wolfmoonmusic

James doesn’t seem to want anyone other than Lily. So after one point, you decide to stop trying

𑣲 if you love me let me know I @theweasleysredhair

Y/n decides she isn’t going to wait forever for Sirius to make a move... maybe he needs a nudge in the right direction. In which Sirius gets extremely jealous over the prospect of Y/n going on a date with someone other than himself.

𑣲 apparition accident I @mediocre-daydreams

sirius accidentally apparates into your bed instead of his.

𑣲 sweet rubbish I @shadowbriar

Their game of love hate pretend has to put to halt as Sirius gazed into the crystal ball.

𑣲 late night cravings I @bobluvbot

you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it)

𑣲 brothers best friend I @lauryri

In which Sirius Black finds comfort in the person he least expects.

𑣲 worth it I @hemmingsleclerc

where Sirius is completely in love with James's sister, but everytime he wants to ask her on a date somehow ends up doing something embarrassing

[starsinthesky5]

how giddy did joe feel hearing all the songs about him yail? like was he blushing red or was he smirking taking it all in orrr

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

he was all of the above.

blushing red, smirking from the slight ego boost he was getting because of the way she was so beautifully singing about him and their relationship, giggling, burrowing himself into the crook of her neck because he felt shy. it was so freaking adorable. he tried to hide his smile, but god, she was doing something to him. these songs were doing something unspeakable to him. he just couldn't hold himself together as he listened to them. nobody had ever spoke about joe like she did, and nobody could ever come close to her.

some songs made joe go completely silent though, but not from anything bad. but from the realization of how much his mere presence in her life made her happy. made her feel safe. made her feel seen.

"even in my worst times, you could see the best of me. flashback to my mistakes, my rebounds, my earthquakes. even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me,".

"my one and only, my lifeline,".

he looked up at her, his eyes brimming with silent tears from the emotions settling deep within his heart. the way she saw him, the way she spoke about him and sang about him...it was all so surreal. she was so surreal.

he was her lifeline. he saw her, the real version of her through the dark clouds looming around her when they first met. he saw through the lies, he saw that broken girl who had given every ounce of love in her body away, just to receive poison in return.

and now he saw that same broken girl, but this time, she was shining. she was free. she was happy. she was loved.

he saw the hand that once was writing her music with poison ink, writing it with gold now. every note, every word, was laced with warmth instead of sorrow. where there was once hesitation, there was now confidence. where there was once pain, there was now love.

he had been there through it all--through the storms, the heartbreak, the days when she thought she’d never feel whole again. and now, he got to witness her bloom, her heart no longer heavy with the weight of the past.

----

and then there were some songs made him feel all giddy inside. like karma.

"karma is the guy on the screen, coming straight home to me?" joe giggled while pressing a few kisses to her collarbone as they swayed back and forth to the song. "real subtle, babe,".

she chuckled, threading her fingers through his unruly curls, "well, you are my reward, right ? my good karma? you know, since i went through so much and stayed true to myself throughout it all. you were my reward after all that heartbreak, the nasty shit they said about me in the media, and the way the entire universe tested me for basically an entire year. everyone got their karma for what they did to me, and i got mine? you. my good karma,".

a deep laugh rumbled through his chest as he slipped out from her hold, tapped repeat on the screen, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. "yeah?" he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "you really think i’m your good karma?".

she hummed, tilting her head to meet his gaze, her eyes soft and filled with something he could never quite put into words, but she likely could. "i know you are,".

joe grinned, his heart doing that stupid little flip it always did when she said things like this--things that made him feel like more than just a name on a jersey, more than just a guy with a strong arm and a playbook. with her, he was something real. something irreplaceable.

he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before whispering against her skin, "guess that means you’re mine too,". then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he twirled her around and dipped her dramatically, making her laugh as the song nears the bridge.

"karma is the guy on the bengals, coming--,".

joe cut her off with a playful kiss. "ah, i like the sound of that," he murmured, his lips still brushing against hers.

and in that moment, with her in his arms and her music filling the room, joe knew—karma had never been sweeter.

[cyberhughes]

Hi Love! I just found your account and am stalking rn. If you are still doing requests can I have a rum and coke with Quinn or Jack, your choice. Prompt is #13 “don’t worry I got you”… lol I hope I am remembering that right. Thank you!! Congrats on 200!

cyberhughes 200 follower special ⋆ .˚

rum and coke coming up!!

prompt #13: "don't worry, i got you."

warnings: yearning final boss.

thank you so much!! jack will always be my #1 so i decided to write him since like only 2 people requested him<33 also it's the way we reached over 300...and im not even halfway through these reqs oopsies (i love you all so much, and welcome to all my new pookies❣️)

prompt list

jack knew you like the back of his hand, almost better than you knew yourself. and he always knew that one day, you’d be the one to break his heart.

he knew exactly how you liked your coffee, and he made sure to bring you a cup whenever he knew you were running late for class. he could recite your drink order like it was the national anthem, never embarrassed when the barista would stare at him with annoyance as he listed the complex list of add-ons. and of course he'd have to make sure to not take your words to heart as you grabbed the coffee from his hands, "i love you, jack."

he knew how to bring you back down to earth when you would start to panic, listing all the things that you felt behind on. he'd grab your hands, tracing soothing shapes onto the backs of them as he reassured you, "you're doing enough, y/n." and you'd stare at him with those pretty eyes he swore he'd never fall in love with, but he did.

he knew all your little quirks and tells, that you'd scrunch your nose slightly when you were deeply concentrated on your studying or that you'd play with the jewelry on your right ear whenever you were nervous. he knew that you'd fidget with the rings on your fingers whenever you lied to him, but the words fell from your lips with such tenderness, that he could never be upset at you.

he knew that lilies were your favorite flower, watching disappointment flash across your eyes as your boyfriend, if you could even call him that, brought you a bouquet of old, red roses. you'd show jack the already wilting flowers with feigned excitement, never knowing how many times he wished he was able to buy you the ones you adored as he walked past the flower stand at the grocery store.

he knew exactly how to hold you when that same boyfriend cheated on you at a party, shamelessly making out with the girl he had told you not to worry about. he had you cradled in his arms as you cried into his chest, wondering what you had done wrong, what you should have done. he stroked your hair gently as you choked on your sobs, "don't worry, i got you." he kissed the top of your head, lingering longer than he should have. to him, you could never do anything wrong, you could take a dagger straight to his heart and he'd still think you were perfect, but you already did.

he knew that you were only using him as a distraction, a rebound, as you looked up at him with yearning eyes. he knew that as you soft lips molded with his just like how they did in his dreams, that he wasn't the one on your mind. he knew that as your hands slid from his neck down onto his chest, feeling his heart thunder under your fingertips, that it would only beat for you.

and of course jack knew,

that you would never love him the way that he loved you.

[suckunaa]

i once was poison ivy but now i'm your daisy - hockey!kento nanami x popstar!reader

summary - you were supposed to be a distraction. he was supposed to be a rebound. after finding out your now ex-fiance was cheating on you with one of your bridesmaids, you ended your relationship and swore off dating of any kind. after kento nanami's longtime girlfriend ended things because he was ready to get married and she wasn't, he decided he just needed to take some time to focus on himself. you two are just friends, your younger brother takuma on the same hockey team as kento, and as just friends, it's totally completely normal to start sneaking around behind everyone's back, right?

chapter 1 - but I bet we'd have really good bed chem (masterlist) (prev)(next)

word count: 4.4k

contains: nsfw topics, smut, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, foul language, 18+ MDNI (not proofread)

you caught yourself smiling at your conversation with kento, putting your phone down as you collapsed onto the couch in your dressing room. you had roughly twenty minutes alone before your team would barge in to help you get ready for your show. the show had been organized for fans, your team working hard to ensure they were who had gotten their hands on tickets and not scalpers.

you had, of course, also had access to a certain amount of tickets to give to whomever you wanted. some you’d sent to close friends, while you had let your brother have a handful to invite whoever he wanted. you had specifically said “you have six tickets for yourself and whoever you want to bring, like maybe yuji, megumi, kento.” your tone had been casual, scrolling through instagram while you spoke like it had been more of an afterthought than anything.

though it was already more than likely those three would have been included on takuma’s list, you had wanted to be extra sure that kento got an invite. you could have invited him yourself and it probably wouldn’t have raised too many eyebrows is any at all - but you hadn’t wanted to risk it. besides yuki and meimei, no one knew that you and kento had been spending a lot more time together ever since the night takuma had bailed on drinks with the two of you.

it was the last thing you had expected to happen, really. the two of you had always gotten along well, but you didn’t see each other often and it had been nice to catch up. catching up had turned into deeper conversations when it turned out that though he was thoughtful and reserved and you were loud and bubbly you still had a lot of similar interests. after three hours it was clear that while you were both ready to leave the cocktail lounge, neither of you wanted the night to end yet.

and so you had ended up at his place, your favorite reality tv show playing while you two sat awkwardly kind of near each other on the couch. reality tv wasn’t his usual choice of entertainment, but the way you had talked about the show so excitedly had intrigued him, and you were more than willing to rewatch it with him. he found your commentary insightful and funny, while you thought his frank analysis was refreshing and, as it turned out, kento himself was also quite funny.

it had happened slowly, you subconsciously scooting closer to him on the couch while you enthusiastically explained something to him. he had noticed, and at some point when you were completely wrapped up in what was happening on the screen he had slung his arm across your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “this seems a little more comfortable,” he explained when you looked up at him, a grin pulling your lips upward at his quiet confidence before you snuggled into him and returned your attention back to the tv.

you weren’t entirely sure how long you had cuddled up on his couch. you both grew more confident in the situation, his fingers brushing your arm up and down, slow and comforting. your hand rested on his thigh right above his knee, squeezing whenever something made you tense up. on and on it went, little touches exchanged between you two, neither pressing for more but content in the comfort it brought you both. you were sorely disappointed when you realized the time and decided you had to get home, untangling yourself from him with a sad smile.

he had insisted he drive you home even though you lived twenty minutes away and it was very late. “i can just grab an uber,” you had insisted, his head shaking in response. “nonsense, you were my partner in crime tonight, i have to make sure you get delivered home safely.” and you hadn’t fought it, eager to spend as much time with him as possible. and he had insisted on walking you right up to your front door, hesitating for a moment before he had leaned in and kissed you.

you hasn’t kissed anyone since you’d broken up with your ex six months ago, and it was electric. it wasn’t just that you, despite being a very physical person who needed lots of physical attention, hadn’t had a kiss in what felt like ages. no, it was the very obvious chemistry between you two - plus, kento was a damn good kisser.

he’d apologized after he pulled away, and when you asked why he said he wasn’t really ready for a relationship, but had really enjoyed spending time with you. you had assured him you felt the same, no interest in a relationship but that you did want to see more of him. that had been a month ago, and the pair of you had seen each other quite a bit. it was often late nights together, stealing away for the few precious hours of free time you both found in your busy schedules.

you’d never spent the night together, and the most you had ever done was make out. not casual, lazy make outs though. no, it was almost always heated between you two, moans freely escaping you as your tongues met, hips often rutting against each other desperately like you were horny teenagers. god, you wanted to fuck him so bad but you were waiting for him to move things that far. normally you would have been impatient, more assertive to get what you wanted but you didn’t mind not rushing things with kento - you were quite enjoying the build up.

besides, you could take care of yourself. you weren’t ashamed to admit you’d already fantasized about fucking kento a few times, your vibrator getting plenty of use while you imagined him inside you. god, even just thinking about that turned you on and you wondered if you’d have enough time to take care of the -

there was a sudden knock on the door, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present. you sighed, shaking your head as you got up to let your team in so you could start getting ready for the show.

◎・v・●・v･○・v・◎・v・●・v･○・v・◎・v・●・v･○・v・◎

you felt exhilarated. you loved being on stage, performing for an audience that sang your lyrics back at you. the after show high was running through your veins, laughing along with your friends backstage. yuki and mei mei had been waiting in your dressing room by the time you had made it back there, full of grins and a bouquet of flowers for you - entirely unnecessary but your trio of friendship was an affectionate one.

takuma and his friends had made it your way eventually, you doing your very best to not appear over-excited to see nanami. you had both agreed that it would be best to keep things between you two (besides your best friends, of course), neither wanting unnecessary rumors and to be put under a microscope when you two were simply two friends enjoying each others company. there was also a part of you that was nervous about your little brother finding out. he idolized kento, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like you were invading his space too much.

you wanted to spend time with kento though. you gave him a friendly enough hug while you muttered “come over to my place,” in his ear. you flashed him a small smile when you pulled back, the easy smile he gave everyone on his face as he simply said “you were incredible tonight.” a blush crept up onto your cheeks, batting your eyelashes at him in an attempt to distract how much of an effect he had on you. “glad you enjoyed yourself.”

yuji started talking to nanami then, and you took the opportunity to head back to your dressing room to take off all your makeup and change into comfortable clothes. checking your phone after you pulled a pair of sweatpants, you smirked as you saw a text from kento. “i’d love to come over.” you quickly texted him back, telling him you were leaving in ten minutes and coordinating when he’d get there.

he arrived to your place only a few minutes after you did, just as you had hoped he would. “hi…” you greeted him, unable to keep the smile off of your face before you threw your arms around him, pressing your body close against his. he instantly returned the hug, strong arms keeping you against him as he mumbled back a hi of his own. “you really were incredible,” he repeated his earlier sentiment. “it’s almost a little unfair, you’re already the most gorgeous girl and on top of that full of talent? leave some for the rest of us,” he teased.

you laughed, rolling your eyes as you pulled away, your hand dropping down to take his hand and tug him behind you as you moved to your living room. “that’s rich coming from mister face sculpted by the gods who also has god-level talent on the ice.”

he snorts gently behind you, and when you turn your head to look at him you find him smiling at your compliment. “you know it’s trueeee,” you sing-songed at him, pleased when you were rewarded with a laugh. you let go of his hand before you plopped down onto the couch. this had become the two of you’s routine: one of you would come over and you’d watch either a reality show (your choosing) or a documentary (his choosing), depending on which you watched last time. and then, inevitably, you ended up in a makeout session, usually heated but sometimes slow and sleepy.

you grabbed the remote, turning the tv before holding the remote out to him. “it’s a documentary night,” you said, waiting for him to sit down next to you. “mm, you choose tonight, yeah? i’m just gonna go grab some water first.” you arched an eyebrow up, pulling the remote back towards you as you shrugged. “well this could be dangerous…” you joked, flipping through different documentaries. “will you grab me some water too? please?” you called out as an afterthought, not sure he heard you until he came back with two glasses in his large hands.

you accepted the water, taking a long drink before putting your glass down on the coffee table in front of you, turning to him with a pout once he had done the same. “kennn, i can’t choose what if i accidentally pick something boring.” he reached for the remote, taking it from you swiftly and hitting play on something. before you had a chance to look and see what he’d chosen, his hands reached out to you and pulled you into his lap. “i’m sure i can find some other entertainment if this doc turns out to be boring,” he muttered, eyes gazing into yours as you adjusted yourself slightly, straddling his lap while your arms draped around his neck.

“oh yeah? i can’t possibly think of something more entertaining than -“ and before you could finish your sentence, kento had cupped your face with his hands and pulled your lips to his. you could have sworn he let out a sigh of relief as soon as your lips met. or maybe that was you, you weren’t sure because all your thoughts were starting to evaporate and all you could think of was how much you liked kissing kento nanami.

you didn’t wait long to deepen the kiss, tongue finding his as you moaned into the kiss. his hands slowly slid down your sides, landing on your hips where they found a home, latching on to hold you. your hips rolled forward, grinding against him and eliciting a groan from his throat. you pulled away from his lips, kissing down his jawline and making your way to his neck. you peppered his skin with kisses, lightly nipping at a spot that had him squeezing your hips.

“god, you make me so fucking horny, kento,” you whine breathlessly against his neck, grinding against his lap again. you could tell he was getting hard and you decided right then and there you didn’t give a fuck about taking things slow. you didn’t want him to go home in a few hours leaving you with just your imagination as you pressed your vibrator to your clit.

you were surprised when you felt his hands shift from your hips to the hem of your shirt, pulling your shirt up and over your head before tossing it to the side. while he had certainly groped your ass and ran his hands under your top to squeeze your breasts before, this was the first time he had made the move to undress you in any sort of manner, the first time he was looking at you topless with only a thin mesh bra that didn’t leave much to the imagination on.

he stared at your chest with a look of admiration you weren’t sure anyone had ever looked at any part of your body with before. his hands, which had went back to their place on your hips once your top was off, slid up your side, the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin causing a shiver to run down your spine. you imagined this was how he was at museums, studying the curated displays with pure interest. and in that moment, the way he looked at you and the way his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs teasingly brushing over your hard nipples, made you feel like that; like a work of art.

you were so full of need and desperation, but you didn’t dare interrupt him. he leaned forward, pressing slow kisses to the swells of your breast, one of your hands reaching up to run your fingers through his hair on the back his head, small sighs of ecstasy leaving his lips. he caught you off guard with his next move, his lips still working to leave a mark on the top of your breasts when he bucked his hips upward, pressing the bulge in his pants against the sensitive space between your legs.

you let out a sharp gasp, lips forming into a pout as you tugged at his hair a little. “who knew you could be such a tease…” you muttered, earning a small chuckle in response. he gently bit at the skin he had been sucking, pulling away to admire his work on your tits. “let’s get you off then, mmm? gorgeous girl,” he finally replied, fingers playing with the waistband of your sweatpants. “you’ll need these off…” he murmured.

“only if you take your shirt off,” you negotiated, a condition he was only too happy to oblige. you stood up from his lap slowly, eyes just as fixed on him as his were on you. his shirt was gone quickly, though you took a little time to pull your pants completely off, a small payback for his teasing. you could tell he was trying to be patient, watching the way you swayed your hips as you slowly pushed the fabric down.

it turned out even kento nanami, the most thoughtful of gentleman, had a limit to his patience, reaching out to cover your hands with his, forcing your sweatpants off faster. “much better,” he approved, eyes scanning over the lower half of your body, left only in your bra and a matching pair of thin mesh panties. he pat his thigh, indicating for you to sit back down. you did as he wanted, one leg on either side of his thigh as you sat down, cunt throbbing at the sensation of the fabric of your panties being the only barrier between you and the fabric of his pants.

you leaned in at the same time he also leaned in, lips connecting again, your hips rolling every now and again. “needy, gorgeous girl,” he teased against your lips, words which drew out a low moan from you. you could feel his fingers trailing along the waistband of your panties, your hand reaching between the two of you to guide his hand lower, dragging his fingers down to the front.

“do you always get this wet so easily?” he teased, mumbling against your lips as his finger drew small circles over the wet patch on your panties. “shut up,” you replied, hips starting to roll back and forth just a little again. he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips as his hands moved back to your hips. “ride my thigh, pretty,” he mumbled against your lips, using his hands to guide you.

not that you needed much guidance. you were so turned on by now that you needed some relief, and you were more than eager as you started to ride your pussy against his thigh. moans fell from your lips as your head tipped back, eyes closed as you snaked your arms back around his neck. kento didn’t waste anytime, his lips now latching on to your neck. he kissed around, hands still holding on to your hips as you continued to work your hips, building up the friction between your legs.

“how does that feel, darling,” he asked, nipping at your neck as you let out a louder moan. “it feels… so.. fucking good…” you spoke slowly, finding it harder to think of words the more the pleasure built up in your body. he let out a pleased hum at your response, one hand letting go of your hip to push your panties to the side, exposing your bare cunt. kento moaned at the feeling of your slick juices against his finger, your eyes snapping open as your head lolled forward, looking down to watch your pussy grinding against the fabric of his pants.

you could see the dark spot your wet cunt was making on his pants, moving your hips to ride his covered thigh faster. “fuck, i’m… i’m gonna… cum,” you got out between moans, feeling the tension pick up as you got nearer to the edge. “cum, pretty darling, cum all over my thigh,” he cooed, hands on your hips again as he helped you move faster, his thigh lifting up to add more pressure against your pussy. “god… fuck!” you cried out as you felt your orgasm hit, still riding his thigh desperately as waves of pure bliss crashed over you.

eventually, you slowed your movements down, his grip on your hips softening, his fingers now massaging slow circles into your skin. "you're so fucking pretty when you cum," kento spoke, peppering kisses all over your face before finding your lips again. "i made a mess on your pants though..." you mumbled between kisses, your hands cupping his face just to steady yourself. "i don't care," he replied simply, resting his forehead against yours. "you may not care, but i do," you said softly, your hand moving down to start undoing his pants.

"you don't have to do that," he murmured, his nose nudging yours. "tonight was all about you, rewarding you for doing such a good job on stage." though he didn't make any moves to stop you, instead lifting his hips up off the couch to help you once you stood up and repositioned yourself between his legs, pulling his pants down until they were at his ankles. he kicked them away, your hands roaming across the hard muscles of his chest as you kissed his lips repeatedly. "i've been dreaming about having your cock in my mouth," you confessed, earning you a gentle bite on the bottom of your lip from kento.

"that's funny, i've had the same dream," he said playfully, though you saw the way his breath caught in his throat as your hands cupped his cock through the front of his boxers. "well in that case, i think it's only right i make your dreams come true then." you grinned at him a little goofily, kento laughing softly in response. you moved your lips to kiss down his throat, making your way to his bare chest where you kissed what felt like every inch of exposed skin. you could feel his eyes trained on you, knew he was the kind of guy that liked to pay attention to every little detail.

you trailed down lower, tongue darting out to teasingly lick at his skin as you dragged it down, fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers. you didn't waste any time pulling them down, his cock freed from the confines of the fabric. "god, of course you're like the perfect size," you groaned, letting your fingers run lightly along his hard shaft before your tongue poked out again, licking his tip and the bit of precum that was already starting to leak out. his hands reached for your head, guiding you just a little but mostly because he wanted to be touching you in some capacity - he was, after all, a mostly patient man.

you let your tongue drag down his cock, taking your time as you dragged it back up and then repeated the process, over and over again until you had covered him completely with your saliva. kento was groaning out slowly, and you were pleased that he wasn't the type to just sit there silently - you liked knowing you were making him feel good. you finally wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking a little before you moved your head down to take a little more of him. you were taking your time, moving your lips down a little more before pulling back up, almost pulling off before you moved back down again.

you had taken a good amount of him between your lips before you finally started to pick up the pace, your head bobbing up and down at a steady pace as you sloppily sucked him off. your fingers lightly tickled his balls, just for a little bit, just enough to tease him, and you were rewarded with his groans shifting more into moans. your hand moved to wrap around the base of his cock, moving at the same rhythm your head bobbed up and down to jerk him off wherever your mouth wasn't.

"fuck..." he groaned before moaning your name out, gripping your hair a little more as he forced himself to keep watching you work on him, though what he really wanted to do was roll his head back and close his eyes. your mouth felt like absolute heaven around him, even better than he had imagined it would feel, because he hadn't been lying when this was something he had dreamed about - you weren't the only one who had masturbated to the thought of the two of you together.

"i'm not gonna last much longer, gorgeous," he groaned out, warning you so you could pull off if you didn't want to swallow. but you didn't mind, your mouth craving to taste more of him. instead of pulling off, you picked up the pace at which you bobbed your head up and down his hard, veiny length. you were telling him with your movements that you wanted him to cum in your mouth, and it only served to push him closer and closer to his release.

and then suddenly he was holding your head firmly, preventing you from moving as a mixture of curse words and your name left his lips, ropes of his sticky cum now running down your throat. you didn't mind your head being held in place, focusing on your breathing as you swallowed. you hadn't taken all of him in your mouth (you'd work on that later), and so your hand continued to stroke him where your mouth wasn't. the sensation was almost overwhelming to kento, and when he finally let go of your head he couldn't help but collapse back against the couch.

"holy shit..." he muttered, his eyes closed for a few moments while you slowly pulled your lips off of him. you cleaned up any stray bits of cum with your lick, trying to be mindful of his now overly stimulated cock. you stood up, leaning in to kiss him. he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him, possessive and wanting you as close to him as possible. "i like tasting myself on your lips," he mumbled, earning a slight smirk from you. "kento nanami, who knew you were so dirty," you teased, pecking his lips over and over again.

he slid a hand down your back, cupping your panty-clad ass and giving it a firm squeeze. "i think maybe you're just a bad influence on me," he joked, a playful glint in his eyes as your own eyes rolled dramatically. "mmm, well i did manage to get you naked before you got me naked so you may be on to something..." you both laughed, for the first time realizing that while he was completely naked, you were still in your bra and underwear. "i don't mind, you could be covered head to toe and i'd still be insanely turned on by you."

his words brought a genuine smile to your lips, giving him a lingering kiss before you leaned closer in and buried your head in your neck. "you're so sweet ken, i hope you know how much of a good man you truly are." you spoke softly, him humming in response as he stroked your hair gently. the two of you sat like this for a few minutes, completely content to just bask in the silence and be together. well, it was't total silence. the documentary he had started was actually still playing, and you finally turned your head to see what it was.

"what even is this?" you questioned, looking back at him just in time to see him shrug. "no idea, i just hit play when i took the remote from you because i knew we weren't going to be paying any attention." smirks were rare to see on kento, but there one was, displayed casually on his lips. "will you sleep over tonight? i don't want you to leave." you spoke quietly, his head nodding in response. "whatever you want darling, you'll get."

and with that he stood up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you off to your bedroom.

a/n: pls be gentle i haven't written smut in ages. anyway!! i am a diehard nanami (and choso) girlie so i was so excited to write this. we're safe from the angst (for now).

taglist: open

[slamdunkhcs]

THIS IS ANOTHER ONE I THOUGHT OF FOR A WHILE AND I HAD ROTTING IN THE DRAFTS.

deliquency in slam dunk

In Takehiko Inoue’s Slam Dunk, basketball is presented as more than just a game—it’s a lifeline for troubled characters with messy, complicated lives. While critics of the series often point to the delinquent behaviors of Shohoku’s players and their rivals as a flaw, this raw and unpolished aspect of the manga doesn’t detract from the story, but I would argue it actually strengthens it. By presenting characters whose struggles extend far beyond the court, Inoue makes Slam Dunk more than a sports manga. It is also a story about redemption, self-discovery, and the undeniable link between personal imperfection and growth.

As the protagonist of Slam Dunk, Hanamichi Sakuragi is the most obvious example of how delinquency shapes the story. Initially, his brash attitude and quick temper drove many of the manga’s early comedic and chaotic moments. But beneath his tough exterior lies a teenager desperate for recognition and validation. He is a self-proclaimed “genius” of basketball, yet he doesn’t even understand the game’s basic rules when he starts. This gap between his confidence and reality reflects his immaturity, rooted in years of rejection and a desperate need for validation. His initial scuffles with Rukawa, for example, are less about genuine rivalry and more about his inability to handle his emotions. But what sets Sakuragi apart is how basketball forces him to channel his delinquent tendencies into something productive. One turning point occurs when he resolves to work on his rebounds after being humiliated in front of the team. Though his stubbornness remains, it transforms into determination, epitomized in his declaration: “I will make 20 rebounds in the next game!” His growth as a player—and as a person—is tied to this process of refining, not erasing, his rebellious spirit.

His evolution from a reckless delinquent to a player who sacrifices everything for his team isn’t only a basketball success story. It’s a celebration of his personal transformation, one that feels earned because of where he started. Sakuragi’s rebound in the final moments against Sannoh is more than a display of his growth as a player, it’s a display of his journey from selfishness to selflessness, showing how basketball helped him confront and channel his rebellious energy.

Ryota Miyagi, meanwhile, represents a subtle, more subdued delinquency. His mistrust and quick temper stem from grief over his brother’s death and the loneliness that followed. While Sakuragi’s antics are public, Ryota’s pain is private, bubbling under the surface until basketball offers him an outlet. This emotional baggage nearly derails his basketball career when he returns to the team after a year-long hiatus. His initial fight with Sakuragi leads to one of his most vulnerable moments, where he admits: “I wanted to quit basketball… but I couldn’t let it go.” Basketball becomes Ryota’s way of healing, his means of reconnecting with others and reclaiming the confidence he lost. His journey is a more indirect form of redemption, one that emphasizes how delinquency often stems from pain rather than inherent malice. His connection with Ayako and his eventual leadership on the court also shows how the game becomes a way for him to rebuild his confidence and form genuine relationships.

Then there’s Hisashi Mitsui, whose journey is perhaps the most heartbreaking. His fall from middle school MVP to gang member is rooted in a relatable fear: the fear of being forgotten. And Mitsui’s breakdown in front of Coach Anzai, tearfully pleading, “Let me play basketball again,” is one of the manga’s most unforgettable moments because it lays bare the guilt and regret that fuel his delinquency. However, his return to basketball isn’t portrayed as a clean redemption but a slow, painful process of reconciliation—with his teammates, his own guilt, and the game itself. The beauty of Mitsui’s arc lies in its imperfection. He doesn’t instantly become the hero he once was. Instead, he struggles, and that struggle makes his eventual triumph all the more powerful.

We see throughout the series how he battles with his fitness, self-doubt, and the lingering consequences of his past, yet his pivotal three pointers in Shohoku’s games against Kainan and Sannoh prove that his resilience has paid off. Mitsui’s arc further demonstrates how delinquency in Slam Dunk is never glamorized—it’s contextualized as a response to pain, and basketball becomes his way forward.

Even the rival teams reflect this idea of delinquency as a double-edged sword, with both its destructive side and the humanity behind it. Toyotama’s players, with their trash talking and aggressive attitudes, show what happens when this rebellious energy is left unchecked. Minami’s violent foul on Rukawa during their match is reckless and brutal, and it showed how anger and impulsivity can poison the spirit of competition.

But Toyotama’s delinquency isn’t framed as pure villainy. It stems from their desperation to honor their former coach, who had been fired due to not producing “results”. After revealing this, their aggression on the court feels less like malice and more like a raw, unprocessed response to grief. They’re playing to prove something—not just to their opponents but to themselves. This makes their story more tragic than antagonistic, and that when left unchecked or unguided, delinquency can lead to self-destruction. Instead of finding redemption through this behavior, they fall further into chaos, ultimately harming the very legacy they’re trying to protect.

What makes Slam Dunk resonate is how these characters, flawed as they are, feel like people you could know—or even be. Their delinquency isn’t glorified, but rather, it’s contextualized. It’s a response to pain, loss, and insecurity, and basketball becomes the outlet through which they confront these struggles. This mirrors the lives of 1990s NBA players like Allen Iverson or Dennis Rodman, whose turbulent personal lives didn’t overshadow their greatness but instead added layers to their stories. Like Sakuragi or Mitsui, they weren’t perfect, but they didn’t need to be.

By incorporating delinquency into its characters and story, Slam Dunk gives us characters who aren’t just athletes but people—messy, flawed, and striving for something greater. It reminds us that greatness isn’t about being perfect. It’s about finding purpose, even in hardships and chaos. In that way, Slam Dunk doesn’t just tell a story about basketball. It tells a story about life.

[straylightdream]

all for you - ✰

a series of connecting non idol au stories with different members of svt . They can be read in the order below listed but you don’t have to read each on to understand the story. The boys just kinda pop up in each other stories.

My goal is to have a story for each of the boys. So expect more stories.

They’re all stories that contain smut

𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

…ready for it?

↳ In the middle of the night, in my dreams. You should see the things we do, baby. In the middle of the night in my dreams

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

dress

↳ Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, friends with benefits, secret lovers

𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠

delicate

↳ Long night, with your hands up in my hair. Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs. Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship, cam girl reader

𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨

king of my heart

↳ I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own. I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone. We met a few weeks ago. Now you try on callin' me "baby" like tryin' on clothes.

body and soul

↳ after a terrible day at work there is nothing more he wants then to go on a motorcycle ride with you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: soulmates au?

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐥

late night calls

↳ it’s four in the morning and there is only one person he wants to talk to.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends with benefits, idiots to lovers

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐥 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐰𝐞

getaway car

↳ The ties were black, the lies were white. In shades of gray in candlelight. I wanted to leave him. I needed a reason.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: neighbors to lovers, rebound love, soulmate au

𝐰𝐞𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐮𝐢

so it goes…

↳ Getting caught up in a moment. Lipstick on your face, so it goes. I'm yours to keep and I'm yours to lose

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: cam girl reader

𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧

apt. 847b

↳ fucking roommate normally complicates things. What happened when being with him just makes sense?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: cam girl reader, roommates to lovers, soulmates au??

[lxkeee]

Hi! Is it okay if I ask for Lucifer seeing female sinner!reader when she is breaking down, panicking from both insecurity and overthinking (generally having trouble breathing and not being able to stop herself from crying at all) and being there with her in general?

Like, what would he say, how would he react, how would he comfort her, stuff like that!

notes: I was debating whether this should be platonic or romantic lmao.

warnings: panic attack.

edit: I fucked up, it said sinner and I accidentally made reader a fallen angel here lmfao omgg 😭

Lucifer is trying his best, even though he dissociates a lot and doesn't realize how much time has passed, he spends most of his time in his room just making rubber ducks or doing paperworks. After he and Lilith split, he had fallen more into depression and began to slowly lose his will to do his duties, hell would've crumbled apart if it weren't for his closest friend who decided to help him run his kingdom. [Y/n] fell from grace at the same time as him as she was an accomplice, Lucifer begged for her forgiveness years ago—apologizing for bringing her to this mess but the woman just chuckled and told him it was fine, she believed in his intentions and it was her decision to follow him.

Thinking about her, he realizes he barely saw her, let alone he forgot when was the last time he saw her. A couple of months ago? He barely saw her as she took it upon herself to lead as he isn't fit to lead as of lately, she is his right hand man afterall.

On top of that, with her taking on his duties, she also made sure to check up on him occasionally to make sure he is still functioning.

“I really need to show her my appreciation... She's doing so much for me...” Lucifer mutters as he lies on his bed, a few rubber ducks on his mattress. His recent memory of her is when she came back to check up on him and he noticed how tired she looked.

“Luci, how are you doing these days? Do you feel slightly better?” the door in his bedroom opened as she entered his room, he was making a new rubber duck and her voice cut off his concentration. He turned around to face her and gave her a grin, “I have been feeling slightly better, [n/n]! Time off seems to be doing me some good.” he says with a smile but his smile faded a little as he noticed how her eyes looked so... Tired... The usual sparkle gone and her once vibrant orbs now dull. Worry fills his chest as he hesitantly asks her, “Are you okay...?” he spoke softly and her eyes widened before giving him a closed eyed smile and when she opened her eyes again, that sparkle was there once more.

“Of course, don't worry too much about me. You should worry about yourself first.” [y/n] says softly with a smile and he just nodded, deciding not to push her boundaries. “If you say so...” he says softly and the two hanged out that afternoon before she decided to take a rest in her room—as she had a room in the palace as she did help in making it.

Lucifer sighs once more, he's worried for her. She's always working so hard. He grabbed a nearby rubber duck and held it near his face, “Mr. Waddles, I'm such a bad friend... She keeps on checking up on me but I forget to check up on her...” he says softly. He's afraid to admit it out loud, but he always loves her. Sure, he loves Lilith with all his heart but it was [y/n] who's his first love but he was too scared to confess and then he met Lilith and he fell inlove with her. Though, after his separation with Lilith, it feels like his love for [y/n] is returning but he doesn't want to think too much about it and wants it to develop properly. After all, he doesn't want to make her a rebound. That's why he wanted to fix himself first and give himself time.

He sighs to himself once more before eventually getting out of bed, he needs to get a drink. He got out of his room, passing by many rooms. He passes by [y/n]'s room. His body stopped as he heard soft sobs. It was coming from [y/n]'s room.

A few moments ago.

[y/n] angrily storms back into the castle, tears running down her cheeks. She just finished a meeting with Adam at the heaven's embassy building. It was just a meeting about hell's population. The meeting would've been bearable if it weren't for Adam's misogynistic attitude towards her. How she isn't fit to lead and how egoistical she is for putting herself in Lucifer's shoes. The major stabbing words she received is when Adam told her how pathetic she is for doing this to a man who doesn't even bat an eye on her. “You're really doing all of this for a dick you can't suck.” is what Adam said to her condescendingly with a mocking laughter. She doesn't even think of Lucifer in lustful thoughts, she only sees him in romantic scenarios, going on dates, holding hands, being there for each other.

It truly reminded her that Lucifer wouldn't be hers.

She's grateful that she was able to keep it together for the rest of the meeting but when she left, she couldn't hold back anymore and quickly teleported to her room.

She couldn't think properly. Chest heaving up and down irregularly. Barely catching her breath as she covers her mouth with her hands to muffle her cries so that Lucifer won't hear her. Though, a few sobs escaped here and there.

She felt so pathetic, so tired. Voices of other demon's comments on her work are starting to repeat in her head. She was only upset by the comments made by Adam but now, she's crying for everything as all the pain and exhaustion she was bottling up has now exploded.

She curls up in her bed, wanting to be as small as possible. Hair messy, dark circles around her eyes. Dull [e/c] orbs. Shining no more as she was exposed more and more to the cruelty of mankind.

She can only have herself to blame, she wanted to be here with him. A speck of light in darkness, slowly getting dull.

Lucifer hesitantly holds his hand towards the door handle to [y/n]'s room, he knows she's crying in there and each second his heart slowly breaks for her. He is debating whether to leave her alone or go inside and comfort her.

“For fucks sake, I need to go there and be there for her.” he mutters before sighing and then taking a deep breath. Curling up his fingers and then knocked on her door.

“[y/n]? It's me... Can I come in...?” He asked softly and he could hear the hitch of her voice when she heard him.

A brief moment, silence.

“Yes... You can... Come in...” she said behind the door, her voice audibly breaking and Lucifer was close to crying just by hearing how broken she sounded. But this isn't about him, so he composed himself and opened the door.

A truly heartbreaking sight to see, his best friend sitting at the corner of her bed and room, knees pressed against her chest as she tries to look as composed while her breathing is uneven. Eyes red and puffy, dark circles surrounding it. “Oh... [N/n], What's wrong...?” he asked softly and that question alone was enough to make her burst into tears. Lucifer panicked and quickly closed the door and then went to her side. Putting an arm around her. “Sshh... It's okay, I'm here... You can talk to me...” he says softly and [y/n] just sobbed and continues to hyperventilate. He remembers how she used to calm him down when he was in this position. “[y/n]... Look at me...” he says, voice gentle and [y/n] hiccups but hesitantly looked at him. “Can you try to focus on your breathing for me? Follow my breathing... Can you do that...?” he asked softly and she weakly nodded. “Okay... Take a deep breath and inhale...” he says, doing the action and gently urging her to follow. [Y/n] trying her best to match his slow and deep breathing. “Now... Exhale...” he says softly and exhaled, [y/n] following shortly after him. “You're doing great sweetheart. Now inhale...” he says, “Exhale...”

Once Lucifer notices she's beginning to calm down, he needs to move into the next step. “Focus on your breathing sweetheart, can you identify five things you can see for me...?” he asked softly and she nodded weakly, still trying to focus on her breathing while looking at her surroundings.

“The desk...”

“The window...”

“My pillows...”

“The hanged picture of us...”

“You...”

Lucifer smiled, his other hand gently playing with her hair, “You're doing so good sweetheart, now.. Can you tell me four things you can touch for me please?” he asked softly and she nodded.

“Your suit...”

“My blanket...”

“My pillows...”

“Your hand...”

She says softly, her breathing slowly going back to normal and he nodded, proud of her. “Very good, now, can you name me three things you can hear?” he asked softly and she nodded.

“Your heartbeat...”

“Your voice...”

“And your hand rubbing against my arm...”

Lucifer was trying hard not to blush and quickly calmed himself, “You're doing so well, can you tell me two things you can smell...? Can you do it for me?” he asked softly, grabbing a nearby tissue and gently wiped the tears off her cheeks, “Your perfume... And the smell of apples...” she answers.

“Now... Can you answer one more question for me?” he asked her softly and she nodded, “Can you name me one thing you can taste...?” he asked softly and she nodded, “my... Tears...” she answers, letting out a small chuckle... Occasionally hiccuping but she significantly calmed down. “Now there's my girl, are you feeling better now...?” he asked softly and she nodded, feeling exhausted after crying so much. “Do you want to talk about it...?” he asked and she shook her head and he nodded, “Alright, how about we rest for a bit? I am sure you have been very tired.” he says and allows [y/n] to get into a comfortable position to lie down on her bed. He was surprised when she held his hand, looking at him as if asking him to join her. He sighs before smiling softly and decided to take the extra space of her bed and cuddled her with her the little spoon. Both of them could feel their hearts beating erratically but decided to calm down as this isn't the time and this isn't the first time they cuddled in bed. [Y/n] was so tired that after calming herself, she quickly fell asleep on his arms.

Lucifer noticed her to have fallen asleep so quickly and he just smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Sleep well, [y/n]. You deserve it.”

[brucewaynehater101]

So turns out that while Talia and Bruce were on an off stage in their on and off again, why won't you join the evil cult? why won't you leave the evil cult? relationship, Talia happened across an absolutely lovely archaeologist who was looking into local folklore in an effort to find some hint regarding a lost tomb. Talia was intrigued because when she listened to the archaeologist's findings, she realized the archaeologist was veering very close to not a tomb but one of her father's back up pits.

Now, Talia could just kill the archaeologist, destroy the research, and move on. She could sabotage the research and move on.

But the archaeologist was really, really pretty. Talia was feeling a little low and in the mood for a rebound.

So Janet and Talia had a fling. Talia adjusts Janet's research so that rather than leading Janet to a lazarus pit, Janet will be led to the tomb of one of Ra's old enemies that her father respected but also disliked enough that he left the enemy dead. He'd stopped sending ninja to maintain the tomb a few centuries ago so Talia figured it was fair game.

Janet becomes Talia's regular rebound when Talia and Bruce are between dramatic semi relationship. Janet breaks it off after she found out she was pregnant with her husband's child. Talia sulked but respected the break up since fortunately it was at a point when Talia was back on her thing with Bruce. She figured that she could always seduce Janet again later.

The later come but Talia discovers Janet's death. She is incensed. Janet was not her Beloved but Janet was hers. She would decide when one of hers was allowed to die!

So Talia does some casual grave robbing. Some magic may be involved in restoring the body.

And sometime later during the Brucequest, Tim finds his mother, dressed in silks, having been living as Talia's prisoner/girlfriend/head researcher of the LoA for the last few years after Talia brought her back from the dead. His mother is going to need some deprogramming but she's very happy to see her son and annoyed enough at the whole captivity thing, as well as the discovery of the downfall of Drake Industries which it turns out Talia lied to her about and had told her that Jack had been keeping things steady while Tim was studying to take over, to be very willing to help Tim blow things up. Janet is also very much not a fan of Ra's in general.

Okay okay. But now I'm imagining the conversation between Talia and Ra's.

Talia: "Father."

Ra's: "Yes, Talia?"

Talia: "I require LoA resources to bring back my lover."

Ra's: *assumes she's talking about Bruce* "Alright. Here's some tips as well."

Talia: "Thank you, Father."

~~ Later ~~

Talia: "Father."

Ra's: ".... And who's this?"

Talia: "My lover."

Ra's: *blinks rapidly in Janet's direction but won't admit he gave Talia resources under an incorrect assumption* "What about the Detective?"

Talia: *grimaces* "Beloved is... preoccupied."

Ra's: "He's occupied with that cat woman, isn't he?"

Talia: *glares and stalks out of the room with Janet*

Anyways, Talia then spends a lot of time doting on Janet in her own ways. This includes them traveling together (though Janet has no access to outside technology, information, or people to ask for help). Janet probably could've escaped, but Talia reassured her Tim and Jack were fine.

Drake Industries went under, Jack is dead, and Tim is Robin (or now Red Robin). This is not what Janet would describe as fine >:(

[nobodyfamousposts]

Do you think people cling on too much to Adrien's high road advice as a reason to salt on him?

Yes, especially when there are plenty of other reasons to salt him that have previously been ignored. But to that end, it DOES serve as the final straw for people after a SERIES of problems that had previously gone unaddressed.

Much like many aspects of the show, Adrien has displayed problematic behaviors that have been overlooked and waved off in the earlier seasons. This is likely or especially due to the way how in each and every incident, Adrien was narratively shown to be correct. In his stance. In his choices. In his behaviors. He was always right. It doesn't matter if he shouldn't be, because he is.

Now unless you're a hater or anti or salter or whatever negative name people tend to get for not liking a story as it's presented, readers and watchers tend to follow along with the narrative as it presents things and how it presents things. It's a common setup in any story. Protagonist Centered Morality, I feel framed best by Susan in the Discord series:

Susan: ...and then Jack chopped down the beanstalk, adding murder and ecological vandalism to the theft, enticement and trespass charges already mentioned, but he got away with it and lived happily ever after without so much as a guilty twinge about what he had done. Which proves that you can be excused anything if you're a hero, because no one asks inconvenient questions.

Pretty much this. Most people will follow what the narrative says because it's the narrative. If the narrative wants you to focus on Marinette being embarrassed, you're going to focus on how much she's cringe. And if the narrative wants you to view Adrien as a perfect sunshine boy who never does anything wrong, anything he does is going to be framed through that lens and it's difficult to break from that view and call out the times when he is wrong. Not unless he does something particularly severe.

It should be noted that outside of Chameleon, Adrien had, among other things: lied to his partner, caused someone to get akumatized and had his partner take the blame, was messing around during life-threatening and city-threatening situations, did nothing as Chloe tormented people right in front of him, DEFENDED Chloe after she tormented people right in front of him, bailed on an event with friends to set up a date with someone who said she had other plans and then got mad at HER for it, tried to flirt or confess in the middle of an active crisis which took necessary attention away from said crisis, caused himself AND his partner to get hit by akuma powers and needlessly be taken out of commission.

And yet people could mostly overlook these instances. They weren't his fault. Chloe is his friend. Marinette is worse. He's just a kid. He has a tragic backstory. So on and so forth. Easy to overlook. Easy to ignore in favor of the Sunshine Boy setup people were given and want to believe in.

But there were three major instances that really grabbed people's attention and stayed:

His attitude in Frozer. It probably wouldn't have been so bad except this rejection already happened in Glaciator, where he was supposed to have learned a lesson and accepted just being Ladybug's friend and now apparently didn't, despite it happening earlier that very season. Then in response, he decides to date Kagami as a rebound, drags Marinette with him on his date (without realizing how he's asking his friend to be a third wheel on a DATE) and focuses on her when he's supposed to be with Kagami, throws another tantrum in the middle of an akuma fight and refuses to work with his partner when the city is literally frozen, and requires Ladybug to apologize to him for hurting his feelings before he finally working with her. Again. But okay, he's a teenage boy in love. Not used to rejection and got his feelings hurt. Lovesquare is endgame so of course it'll work out anyway, so it's not like this bump in the road is really going to matter long term so we shouldn't hold it against him. Fine. Dumb, but fine. We've forgiven it in other shows and other poorly done teen romances, we can forgive it here.

His behavior in Syren in which he demanded to know secrets from people when the secrets were not theirs to tell him, and went so far as to attempt to blackmail his kwami (which was funny) and threaten to quit and abandon the Ring that the big bad is after while the city is flooded and people were trying to not drown (which was decidedly less humorous). But it was played for wholesome when Plagg reassured him and he got what he wanted by Fu revealed himself even if Adrien did nothing to actually show he earned it, so all's well that ends well, I guess? And people could justify it because "they're partners" and "part of a team" and "she should trust him" and "it's not fair he's the only one left out of the loop" and "he has a right to know" and just general "Fu is an idiot" (which is admittedly hard to argue). So people were disgruntled, but most were willing to overlook it.

His holier than thou lecture to Marinette in Maledictator over everyone being happy Chloe was leaving. When all Marinette was doing at the time was watching everyone else have fun. When Adrien specifically guilted Marinette and not any of the other actual partiers involved who were literally throwing a party over his friend leaving and probably should have warranted a lecture more than the girl just standing there. When the girl in question was also Chloe's main target and out of everyone had valid reasons to be happy that her bully won't be around to bully her anymore. When Adrien himself has historically been present to witness Marinette being targeted including twice he witnessed Chloe attempt to steal from Marinette, once he witnessed her try to blackmail Marinette, and numerous other times when she actively caused harm to Marinette and others. When Adrien then proceeded to sit in a corner and pout rather than do anything else or just leave if the party really bothered him. When Adrien, if he really cared so damn much, could have gone after Chloe himself! Or y'know...have stood up for Chloe earlier when she got upset in the first place. But fine, okay, Chloe is his childhood friend. So maybe he's just being biased and oblivious to the fact that his "friend" is a horrible person. But people can excuse and justify it in that they are friends and friends support each other, and the longer someone is friends with someone else, the harder it is to break from them. And that Marinette was probably just the target of his lecture because she was the one there in the moment (and the only one who would listen without arguing). And her calling Chloe useless was "mean" despite it being quite frankly the least of what she could have said about her in the moment (coughcough theft cough blackmail cough punished the entire school cough TRIED TO CRASH A TRAIN AND NEARLY KILLED HER AND HER PARENTS COUGH-FREAKINGCOUGH). Fine. Childhood friend means Adrien supports her in all her horrible and even deadly actions. Frustrating, but again, able to be explained and you can see where he's coming from.

These are all things that definitely got Adrien some side eye at best and some detractors at worst.

BUT if you really think about it, all of these examples are objectively worse than his lecture to Marinette in Chameleon. Not accepting being told "no" and continuing to chase a girl who isn't that in to him (while leading on another). Putting lives at risk over personal wants that could quite honestly wait until AFTER the crisis is over. Defending someone who is harmful and guilt tripping the victims. Compared to those, telling someone to leave a liar to their lying seems relatively minor.

So why this? Why here? Why is it Chameleon that has people saying enough is enough? Why is it this episode that is causing the sunshine boy to be so tarnished and the subject of salt in fan fiction?

Because this is the time when it couldn't be rationalized. There wasn't even a valid sensible canon-based reason for his stance. The arguments that Adrien "knew confronting her wouldn't work" or that he "handled her like paparazzi" or that he "knew Marinette previously failed when she tried" (even though he wasn't there and didn't know) or that he "didn't think anyone would believe him" don't come from canon. Those were fan arguments made after the fact to justify him after the base was broken and the outcry became too much to ignore.

This case didn't have any of the ties or rationales of the previous incidents. Adrien wasn't defending himself or his place in a partnership. He wasn't fighting for his love or his dream or an outcome he wanted and that we all knew was coming—if anything, he was fighting against her. He wasn't defending a friend like he did with Chloe—I mean, it's pretty evident he doesn't even really know or like Lila at this point, and for all intents and purposes, this is apparently only the second day he actually had any interaction with her. There was no notable reason Adrien really had for why he essentially chose to protect Lila over literally anyone else as she wasn't a friend and it wasn't in his interests to protect her from a consequence that wouldn't hurt her short term as much as it would likely harm everyone else long term.

And yet, he still defended her and her freedom to lie. Over Marinette. Over Ladybug. Over his friends. Over any sense of right and wrong he seems to have no problem throwing around when it comes to Marinette/Ladybug. Which seems like he targets her 9 times out of 10 compared to pretty much anyone else by this point. So it's little wonder then that people who didn't already hate the lovesquare because of the cringe factor from Marinette started to hate it for being incredibly unhealthy given that their relatively limited interactions tend to involve him lecturing her for failing to live up to his double standards that only seem to apply to her in any given situation.

This incident by itself doesn't seem like much, but when looked at as part of the series as a whole, it's when people couldn't keep overlooking this trend. Where he seems to admonish the wrong person. Where he acts like a mouthpiece rather than a person. Talks like he’s wise in a situation he seems to have a childish and one-sided view of. Acts like a brat but is treated as though he has no accountability in the situation he causes. Where he is wrong but no one and certainly not the narrative acknowledges it (not until season five and two seasons too late when it doesn't matter and he's still not the one facing consequences for it).

And it's not like he actually follows the stances he himself promotes. In Chameleon, canon presents him with this idealistic stance that Lila could change if given a chance, except he doesn't give her a chance. He doesn't push her to be a better person. He doesn't support or in any way help her to be the better person he insisted to Marinette she could be. He also doesn't do anything or warn anyone when she keeps lying and actively harms the people he says he cares about. He doesn't do anything one way or the other other than some lackluster encouragement to stop lying and a warning that goes nowhere. It just further gives credit to the argument that Adrien either simply doesn't care about other people, or that he doesn't care for Marinette specifically. Neither is conducive to the lovesquare or the increasingly tarnished view of the "sunshine boy".

And it could have worked. Canonically and intrinsically to his character. His idealism and trust in the wrong person comes back to bite him. He learns and grows from it. Except that, much like with nearly everything he does in canon, Chameleon set it up that Adrien was the writers' mouthpiece and thus was not "wrong". I'll grant that they did have him admit it and apologize to Marinette for it two seasons later, but it is pretty evident that during Chameleon, they intended his lecture to be right, with no foreshadowing and no implication otherwise. And I'm fairly certain they only backtracked and had him do that much because of the amount of fan outrage over the episode.

So yes, I think his lecture in Chameleon was really a final straw since unlike Chloe, Adrien has NO relationship with Lila to justify his defense of her. Especially when the argument is in favor of letting her lie to the people he's supposed to care about. That combined with how jarring it was how most of the class just sided with Lila over the seat issue in the first place, and I think people were less inclined to just ignore the problems in the episode specifically and with the series as a whole as they were compared to the first and second seasons. Not just with Adrien, as we see that Alya also started getting more callout and salt since then as well as more retrospective scrutiny over her behavior in earlier seasons.

But yeah...Chameleon was where things seemed to take a 180, so it's bound to be the deciding episode and deciding incident that sticks out in people's minds with these characters. That's probably why it ends up the go-to for salt and complaints on the characters involved instead of any of the other incidents that would arguably warrant it more.

[moonsaver]

A dance, A death, A dream,

for humanity slumbers for the final rest, and dreams after the final rest.

➸ On the neverending stage of Penacony; there lies a mysterious masquerade that serenades those whose dreams stretch further than the expanse of the night sky. In this masquerade, the marble floor extends infinitely, and the windows are dimly lit by the full moon. Several hands extend to you. Whose do you take?

➸A/n; NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AS TITLE SUGGESTS. my writing's gotten a bit rusty, and this is majorly inspired by the Acheron and Black swan dance. Please read it with a grain of salt. 2.2k words. Yandere themes, gn reader but they're implied to wear heels, so just yassify your self insert. Bad writing because I've been out of it for so long.

—————

A death

Scars, calluses, and a plethora of secrets remain buried on and under the skin of Blade's hand. He gently and firmly guides you out of your seat, and into the centre. The grip of his hand is firm on your waist, and the warmth seeps into your skin.

“I've seen you, many, many times..”

He whispers into your ear, as the music begins. The rasp of it sends chills down your spine, forming a few goosebumps along the way.

“We've scarcely met.” You reply,

“In my dreams.”

You stay silent. He continues,

“The long thread of destiny lingered around you. Our souls were tied.”

He turns you, and pulls you in again, your back pressed to his front. He leans down in an instant and whispers into your ear again,

“You waited for me.”

The clicks of your heels coincide with his agile footwork.

Blade remembers the same dream, played over and over in his mind. The bite on your jugular, the hand over your nape, the red blood staining his teeth like wine.

“You didn't leave.”

Your heart picks up. You close your eyes for a momentary relief that never comes. You feel your body tense, and your lungs slightly constrict.

“I.. didn't mean to.”

His grip only further tightens on you, and he pulls you in closer. The spinning almost leaves you dizzy, or perhaps it's something else?

“You left. Intentions seldom matter.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

He stays quiet. His hands make gentle work, and gracefully guide you through the steps.

“those threads.. all came together and formed a tapestry of us.”

There were a multitude of them, although more monotone in nature. White occasionally graced the vibrant red thread, but was sooner stained with a murky black the further it went, infecting the red with its impurity. The vibrancy dimmed to a dull, dreary maroon.

“Some of them..”, he continues, his rough fingers snake around your wrist, bringing it up to his lips, where he tenderly kisses the inside, “..were tied around your wrist.”

“Around your waist..”

You turn again, your back presses into his chest momentarily,

“Braided into your hair,”

He pulls you in, leaning close into your face, to the point your noses almost touch,

“..wrapped around your throat.”

To you – it's like the dance halts for a moment. Something wrong happens.

His tone is warning, bubbling over the edge,

“You were mine.”

He turns you again, and roughly pulls you in, knocking your breath out of your lungs. Your shocked eyes meet his.

“You are mine.”

Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears. Blade pushes you around, almost mocking the gentleness and grace the dance is supposed to exude, stripping it of it's vulnerability like the harsh snap of a bear trap over the tender leg of a rabbit,

“I've pined, longed and stained you. I've ripped you apart and put you back together. Do you think it matters whether you left intentionally?”

Your lungs struggle to fill completely, you almost stumble from the harsh and swift movements Blade forces you through, and you stutter trying to get any word out, 

“Yingxi–! Wait!”

He pulls you in one last time, your face buried into his chest,

“You can not leave. Not anymore.”

The music halts to a break.

The dance stops.

His breath fans over your neck, the constricted space between you two rebounding the warm air. His teeth graze your jugular.

“Our flesh is tied. Struggle all you want, but we are intertwined further than dried blood over a wound.”

And this is how it is meant to be. Your hand on his weakness. His mouth on your heart.

The music starts again.

—––––––

A dream

Sunday's familiar gloved hand wastes no time wrapping around yours. He flashes you a smile as you give him a look.

“There are far too many spectators present tonight.”

You sigh, and smile.

“Of course. I'll do my best.”

“Thank you. As will I.”

His hand settles on your back, settling into the slight curve, and you straighten up, muscle memory kicking into action.

“Tonight's crowd mumbles and scatters to mystery as a moth akin to a flame. Dreams are not enough to quench their curiosity.”

The dance starts, and you relax after the first few steps, synchronising effortlessly with him,

“However, tonight's realm extends far beyond a dream.”

This was new.

Sunday always answered your questions about Dreams in a shapeless, vague manner. He often said it was to protect you.

This time, it was a warning.

“How so?” You ask. You don't expect him to go beyond surface level.

“Prime System Hours are during Midnight. A beautiful time.” He gently turns you, and brings you in,

“And why is that?”

“At this time, dreams become heavy. The memoria is dense enough to tear the thin membrane between reality and illusions.”

His wings slightly flutter. You feel almost hypnotized.

“The Dream realm and parts of The Reverie merge and collide. It bizarrely stabilises the lavish, shared dreams.”

You blink at him, slightly confused.

“And at this time, it is also easy to awaken from one's dreams, or sleep too deeply.”

You suck in a breath. A vision flashes into your mind.

Sunday stands across the empty ballroom. The candles are blown out. The windows creak with the gentle air of the night. The deathly pale light of the moon illuminates the side of Sunday's face.

Wake up? Sleep? Dream?

You breathe out, almost as if your soul had been snatched out of your body and harshly shoved back in. 

“Guests confuse their dreams and reality. They believe it's time to awaken, when reality seems pleasant, and dreams become bitter. Memories and presence blur together in an incoherent puzzle.”

He swerves you effortlessly, muscle memory keeping you from stumbling. But this time, your mind feels hazy.

“By the time they feel their consciousness return, they've already deeply penetrated into the dream realm.”

You blink again, and you're back at the same place. Except, this time, Sunday is closer. He takes your hand, and pulls you in. The emptiness of the ballroom is almost frightening, especially due to your confused and hazed state,

“As to whether they've woken up or not, relies solely on their ability to distinguish Reverie and the Dreamscape, which blurs more with the effect of the memoria.”

His voice echoes in your head with clarity, but your eyes blur the two figures, the contrast inducing dizziness in you to the point where you're afraid you might even fall,

“As for you..” He continues, golden eyes gently grazing over your confused and hazy expression, a smile stretching out onto his eerily perfect face,

“It's not time to decipher that yet.”

The silhouette of Sunday's fingers snap over the pale backdrop of the moon.

You open your eyes.

Sunday is standing before you with a warm smile. The candelabras are still burning. The crowd applauds you two. You breathe heavily, unsure of what has happened, your body suddenly zapped of energy, exhaustion straining your muscles.

“You seem to have overexerted yourself.”

Sunday's gloved hand trails up your back to your shoulder, guiding you gently back into the crowd, towards an empty table.

“Come now. The dust of this ballroom may be dulling your senses.”

Dust?

You blink for a moment, head slightly hanging as you collect yourself.

Sunday breathes out an ‘o’, and then chuckles softly.

“Do not mind it, dear”,

Sunday eyes the creaking windows. It has been a while since they were repaired. The room may need to be renovated. The dust on the floor is reminiscent of all the people that one witnessed your first dance with Sunday. The lack of it was always a reminder of your time with Sunday, the dust clinging to your heels instead. He stares towards the empty hall, where you dream of an everlasting dance.

“It is my mistake. I was thinking about something else.”

–––––———

A dance

“What makes you think I'd really want to dance with you?”

You ask, almost disgruntled. Rightfully so, too. The blonde man had been continuously pestering you throughout the night, asking you to accompany him. For a dance, a walk through the garden, a visit to the food table. Finally, he'd asked you to strike a bet with him, if it meant you'd at least spend an iota of your time with him and solely him.

“I have my ways, you know?”

His agile fingers flick and swerve a coin between his hands, tossing and turning it skillfully. The tablecloth slightly crinkles under the movement of his arms,

“I'm not betting, by the way.”

You say, pausing for a moment to confirm if he's listening. His eyes are intent on yours. You continue,

“If you have to go so far just to dance with someone, aren't you better off just giving up?”

Your gaze lands on the coin for a moment, and you continue watching it with interest. At some point, you force yourself to look away from the coin he was toying with, and take a sip of your drink. You lean back into your chair.

“Like I said, I have my ways. What I really want from you after all this time.. isn't it tempting? Don't you want to know?”

He tosses the coin into the palm of his other hand, and encloses it, before opening it. The coin vanishes when he opens his hand. Mirroring you, he leans back into his seat, although his body language is much more open than yours.

“making bets is easy, isn't it? But it's more trustworthy than pulling a few strings behind your back, right?”

He gets up, and languidly walks over to you. He leans down slightly, his sunglasses slightly skewing enough so that his vibrant Signoian eyes bore deep into yours.

“And for you.. I've thought about an offer that's taken me a while to cultivate. Join me for a chat on the Balcony?”

You think for a moment, and hesitantly ask,

“..Why not talk here?”

Aventurine only casts a side-glance somewhere in the distance.

“Prying eyes, sweetheart.”

He extends an open hand to you. You slowly place yours in it, with a self-assuring sigh.

-

“Penacony's relationship with the IPC has been quite bitter. Even our reception wasn't ready to welcome us.”

The air of the night sky was cold, forming subtle goosebumps on your skin. Various clinks and muffled conversations could be heard from behind you, the glass door blurring the view of everyone inside. 

“Not even my friends were allowed to enter the dreamscape except me. How lucky, right?”

He says, sarcastically. His eyes continuously gauge your face for any expression and hint as to what you feel.

“You’re a little too quiet.. am I not interesting enough for you?” 

You stay silent for a bit too long. Aventurine knows what you're going to say next.

“Listen, that night..” you start, your voice gradually softening at the remembrance of the memory,

“Don't.” He cuts you off.

Neither of you speak. You open your mouth to, but close it after being unable to decide on what to say.

“I mean, you don't have to remind me.” His languid tone returns, but you don't believe it was the same as before.

“I know everything ended that night.. I didn't think you were so averse to blood.”

You stare at the bubbles in your drink, rise slowly from the bottom of your cup to the surface, and pop. You don't know when, but the background of joyful conversation and ballroom music fades into distant screams, ones that have haunted your dreams ever since then. Aventurine continues,

“It won't hurt to.. act one last time like it used to be, right? Just for one night. It's a masquerade, and everyone hides who they are for a moment's time of detachment. Their past, their decisions, their mistakes. All of it is buried for a single night.”

You hear the shuffle of his stiff jacket as he moves closer to you, hesitantly moving your gaze to him as you steel yourself.

“Just one last time. For old time's sake. As lovers from the past.”

His hand extends out to you. His other hand is behind his back, his grip tightening over a coin.

Heads, or tails?

You take his hand with a sigh,

“Just once. Never again.”

Aventurine smiles. Luck has always been on his side. If it works well, then your expectations will never be honoured. His greed is fatally more important to him than your wishes. It won't be the last time, as far as he's concerned.

The coin shines under his palm, the moonlight creeping through the gaps between his fingers hitting the metal just right, but neither of you catch the glint. Your eyes are trained onto the main floor, and his are trained onto you. The coin decides both of your fates.

And Luck has always been happy to write it in his favour.

—————————

[redclercs]

DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

iv. you and me would be a big conversation

— the one where both of you have big reputations.

warnings: this one got a little long sorry, bashing towards charles and y/n (i love them ok), taylor swift references,2.6k words.

masterlist ✢ next

FROM DATF1GURL ON TIKTOK: "IS Y/N Y/LN AFTER CHARLES LECLERC NOW?"

[female voiceover]: ❝(...) while it is true she has a contract with Elix the new MAJOR sponsor for Ferrari—horrible drink by the way—rumor has it y/n's actual goal is to get the monegasque driver to spare a glance her way... Like, okay girl, but you left a 3-year relationship five minutes ago, chill.❞

IN pure Taylor Swift fashion, y/n y/ln has found her own ‘Getaway Car’ in none other than the 25-year-old Monegasque Formula 1 pilot, Charles Leclerc.

While nothing’s been confirmed, (come on now, what celebrity will just confirm rumors of their own free will in this day and age? Screw you, PR agents) the actress has been seen at two Grand Prix and the Elix contract gives her good camouflage for being constantly photographed with her new beau.

No matter how much sex-appeal these two exude, let’s not forget that we have a victim here: Aidan Kim. How can you leave a three year relationship with the man that gave you everything and not even two months later you’re already with someone else?

Is it a rebound or are we looking at something serious? In your humble writer’s opinion it’s most likely the former. And let’s not forget what Taylor Swift, in her infinite wisdom, said: “Nothing good starts in a getaway car”, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Ferrari.

SEE ALSO:

→ Aidan Kim buys new home in Sherman Oaks.

→ Every celebrity present at the Miami Grand Prix.

→ Is y/n y/ln really done with RomComs?

May 13th, Los Angeles, California.

“ARE you sure this is who you want as your rebound, babe?” Victoria places the magazine down and turns her head to look at you, using the precise force and tilt for her sunglasses to slide down to the tip of her nose.

“Stop reading that garbage,” you warn, not bothering to change your position in the chaise-longue, you don’t even look away from the script in your hands.

The day started pretty well, sunny Los Angeles made you feel hopeful for the first time in a while as you opened the script Mildred sent you when you got back from Miami. A drama about a young widow. You can work with that.

“I just mean—” Vic shifts her whole body in your direction, “—You have options, what about Timothée? I’m pretty sure the Kylie thing is fake. And he wouldn’t say no to you.”

“Stop that, Vic,” this time you do look her way for emphasis, you mean it. “I’m not looking for a rebound, or anything else for that matter. I want a job.”

“Fine,” Vic makes a show of capturing her lip between her teeth to pronounce the “F” and lies back in the chair. “I’m just saying…”

You’re glad to be wearing sunglasses, so she can’t see the way your eyes rollback. To be fair, you’re at Vic’s house so she has every right to occupy the same space as you at any given minute. Which is all the time.

After the breakup you ran to Vic’s Los Angeles home and left the SoHo apartment to Aidan. Vic's house is amazing, with eight rooms, five bathrooms, a black granite kitchen and of course, the pool. But you miss New York, even if you can fit your own room two times in one of Vic's. At least, according to rumors, Aidan is moving out of the apartment so you might be able to return to it soon.

“I think it’s bullshit that they see me breathing near a guy and suddenly we’re dating,” you drop the stack of papers on your legs, startling Vic with the sound. “Bullshit.”

“It’s just tabloids, babe.” Vic goes quiet, knowing she’s annoyed you and now you feel guilty about that too.

“I know,” you sigh, picking the script back up. Suddenly you don’t like it that much anymore.

Of course you know it’s just tabloids. People talk shit just for fun, but you’ve been their main target for a few weeks now and you cannot wait for them to move on. Which seems unlikely.

You've never been more glad about turning down a Yankees game invite.

Following Ferrari’s disappointing Sunday and the respective mandatory Elix pictures, you hung around the Suite a little longer in aims of gathering your thoughts and the will to leave to meet Vic at another after-party.

“Hola y/n! I thought you’d left,” Carlos carried his bag in one hand as he struggled to put his sunglasses with the other.

“I’m about to,” you smiled at him, locking your phone. “You too?”

“Yep, going straight to the airport. See you in Italy?” he asked, running his now free hand through his black hair, all set.

“See you there, Carlos.” you waved him goodbye before leaning back on the couch.

Vic had apologized for the shenanigans she'd pulled the previous night, saying she knew she should have asked you instead of just running with things. So you were looking forward to the after-party, it would be fun to hang out with your best friend after making up.

It wasn’t even five minutes before Charles came out too, hanging up a call in his half-destroyed iPhone.

“Oh hey!” He greeted cheerfully, the bad aftertaste from the race wasn't evident in his demeanor anymore. They had their debrief and Charles was willing to let go of the negativity momentarily.

“Hi Charles,” your not-as-cheerful tone didn’t bother him one bit. “Are you flying back today too?”

You couldn’t picture yourself in an eight hour flight after everything they’d done today, but they’re not really regular humans.

“We’re driving to New York, actually,” his hand hovered over the refreshment table, until he picked one of the leftover Elix. Charles examined the black can he chose before speaking again, “We’re going to a Yankees game tomorrow.”

“That’s very nice, Charles.”

He hates Elix as much as the next person so you can't help but wonder why he drinks them even when the cameras are off. Carlos and you never do.

“Would you like to join us?” He offered, the last word deafened by the click of the can as he opened it.

You took a few seconds to process the question, long enough for Charles to down about half the can in one gulp.

“Thank you, but I’m flying back to L.A. tomorrow.”

Charles' mouth went down in one corner and you were uncertain whether it was your answer or the taste that caused it. He tilted the can making the remaining liquid dance.

“Maybe another time,” he added, downing the rest of the blueberry flavored Elix. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks for asking me, though,” you smiled, grabbing your purse from the couch. You had recovered enough energy already, and you didn't want to miss the DJ set at the party. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thanks y/n,” his mouth was still frozen in that slight wince and you shook your head gently at the sight of the empty Elix. “I'll see you in Italy, right?”

“I’ll be there.” you assured, although you hoped not. But a week didn’t seem like enough time to secure a gig.

YOU land in Italy the day the Grand Prix gets canceled. Which is very much just your luck. It’s for the better, though, safety must always come first.

It makes no sense to run back to America when you have nothing else to do, so you resolve to stay in Rome and catch up with a few friends you have around. Matilde Bassi being the best among them, and she would rather die than let you stay in a hotel instead of her house.

"I said no," she repeats, and her accent—although barely even there— reminds you of Charles for a split second, before your brain lets go of the image. "I've told you a million times to come visit, I won't let you stay in a hotel."

You give up after that because you don't want to annoy her. Matilde has quite the strong character, which is the reason she got to Broadway in the first place. After years of being in New York, where you met her, she decided to move back to Italy. Mati, still pursuing her passion, is currently the European public's favorite Juliet.

The fact that all of this goes down in a phone call gives you time to pick up what little stuff you've gotten out of your suitcase and check-out of the hotel before Matilde gets there to take you to her house.

─────────

"So, how are you doing?" she asks, refilling your wine before moving back to the stove, where she's cooking your favorite Italian meal.

"I'm fine, I've told you," you chuckle, sipping the drink. Her house is beautiful too, and spacious, but it feels homey compared to Vic's. "Taking it easy."

One thing you tend to forget about Matilde is how she is able to see right through your bullshit, and that's exactly what she's doing now.

"You never take it easy, y/n. And I mean how are you really? How do you feel? A lot has changed for you lately." she flips her head back to remove a stray curl of hair out of her eyes, "You can be honest."

"I'm fine, seriously, Mati," you know drinking so fast will make the wine go straight to your head but you'll do anything to avoid really talking about this. Which is unfair, Matilde is being genuine.

"You moved from one coast to the opposite and you're fine? What are you working on right now?"

You sigh, managing to smell your own alcoholic breath. "I'm with Victoria, and I've lived in Los Angeles before, while filming, it's not a big deal. As for work... I'm just– picking some stuff out, seeing the best options."

Matilde nods and turns around to grab two plates from the sky blue cupboards behind her. "Are you planning on going back to New York?"

"Yeah, hopefully," you get up to help her and she gestures for you to take a seat again. "My name was on the lease and Aidan is moving out of the apartment, according to People Magazine, anyway so..."

"Your apartment was amazing," Matilde smiles, reminiscing the girls' nights you spent together while she worked in New York, it was always so much fun to be with Mati. "I hope you can go back. If that makes you happy, that is."

She manages to carry both steaming plates and the bottle of wine to the table, and finally sits down. "Well, enjoy!"

"Thank you, Mati, this smells amazing," you missed Mati's cooking so much because no matter how many Italian restaurants you visit, nothing compares to hers, and you're also glad to have something on your stomach that will make the effects of the wine go away.

Or that's what you hoped for anyway, because you're halfway through another cup of wine, almost done with your food, when you drop the grenade you've left unpinned in your brain for 2 months.

"I don't miss him," you whisper, resting the fork gently on the edge of the plate, between two of the yellow flowers painted on it. "Am I a horrible person because I don't miss him?"

You gave it a lot of thought ever since you took the plane from New York to L.A. the night you said no. You thought—still think—there's something wrong with you because the feeling that something was ripped out of your life and the hole that it left would never be filled never even appeared. There was no hole, it was a scar already, and you picked at it trying to make it bleed. But nothing happened. Nothing ever happens.

"You're not a horrible person, y/n don't say that."

You're glad Mati doesn't let silence fall between you, it would have made you regret everything that left your mouth, but she's already reaching for your hand and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

Mourning the idea of someone is worse than mourning their absence. And you had missed Aidan for a long time, even when he was with you.

"I just feel awful for leaving and not wanting to go back, I hate myself for being okay."

The rejected proposal is something you keep close to you still. You love Mati, and you trust her, but you cannot bring yourself to touch that subject.

Mati squeezes your hand, her food forgotten as well. "I'm glad you're okay. I liked Aidan, too. But you're my friend, and I love you and all I want is for you to be better than okay."

"Thank you Mati," it's her words that actually get the tears flowing, and you wipe them quickly with your free hand. "Sorry for dumping this on you so suddenly." you give a choked laugh before clearing your throat.

"I did tell you you could be honest," she laughs, giving your hand a last squeeze before letting it go. "How about we just go straight to dessert?"

You nod, grateful that she leaves to get the tiramisu you bought on the way home from the fridge so you can pull yourself together.

MONACO welcomes you the Sunday before the Grand Prix. Which you are excited about, for the first time in a while.

Matilde proves to be the best company once again, knowing her way around Monaco like it's her own home. You're glad she's attending the Grand Prix too and you were able to get her into the Ferrari Suite with you, unlike your failed attempt at Miami with Vic.

One thing you find out about Monaco pretty soon, is that they're obsessed with Charles Leclerc. He's in buses and billboards and you can see people waiting to catch a glimpse of him outside grocery stores. It warms you up inside that he's so loved in his own country, not many people can relate.

You don't love, however, that the articles online have brought attention to your presence in Monaco too. And although it’s far less than the one Charles gets for obvious reasons, the heat that comes from it is closer to ire than affection.

Still, you take photos with those who ask on your way back from dinner with Mati and ignore the “you’re here for your boyfriend, huh?” Questions that come from people with their cameras millimeters away from your face. Saying “it’s not like that” isn’t worth the effort because it won’t work.

May 23rd Montecarlo, Monaco.

Mati is introducing you to other celebrities that attended the All-Stars game, when Charles comes back from signing autographs to the part of the stadium where you are. He's messy, dirty and all dimples—again— which you start to find annoying. Although it's mildly sweet how he always smiles at you when your eyes meet, you cannot allow yourself to think of that too often. He's a nice guy, he's being nice.

"Hi y/n, I thought I'd see you until the weekend," he greets you, still drying off the sweat from the back of his neck.

You shrug, making way for a couple of guys who give Charles a bro hug, joke about the several mistakes he made during the match and then leave, acknowledging you in the form of a quick scan.

"Good game," you can't help the small laugh that follows the compliment, but Charles only smiles wider.

"I'm a natural," he replies, but takes his hand to the place he hit when he face planted. "Don't you think?"

"Definitely," you laugh again, raising both eyebrows. "I'm just glad you stick to racing."

"Me too," it's his turn to shrug, and run a hand through his damp hair.

“How was New York?” You look over your shoulder to Mati, who’s holding her own conversation a few steps away. “Did you have fun?”

“It was really fun, noisy, big. It’s a shame you couldn’t come.”

“Thank you again for inviting me. I do miss New York, but i had things to do.” You let the air out of your lungs hoping, albeit stupidly, he can’t see in your face that the things you did was read stuff on the internet about the two of you together.

“Oh you live in New York? That’s wonderful, so you know your way around. Lorenzo and I got lost.”

You chuckle gently. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Ready to go?” Mati puts an arm around you, smiling. “Hello, Charles.”

So it is true everyone knows each other in these circles.

“Hello Matilde,” Charles smiles back at her, “I won’t keep you any longer, y/n.”

“No worries, it was nice seeing you.”

“I’ll see you soon, maybe I can show you a place or two in Monaco.” Charles is very casual, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a heartbeat.

Matilde tilts her head and her ponytail falls into your shoulder, the small hairs tickling your ear.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks Charles.” You shake your head away from Mati’s and wave Charles goodbye as he walks by you.

“My advice,” Mati is still holding you by the shoulder. “If I may be nosy… You don’t want to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Charles Leclerc. You don’t wanna do that, y/n.”

You roll your eyes but Mati is unbothered by the gesture. “I’m not doing anything, Mati. He’s being nice, we see each other every weekend.”

“He is a homie hopper, trust me, run don’t walk.”

You tsk, making her shake her head this time. “If it makes you feel better, I’m not doing that, never, ever.”

And although you intend to keep your promise, the first thing you do once your phone is hooked to the hotel’s wifi, is google Charles and his reputation.

Even if you know better than anyone that the internet is full of lies.

─── team principal radio: ❝hello! i really enjoyed creating this chapter, especially the fake media so i hope you've enjoyed it too. thanks for reading!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

[noightserum89]

with ease

You just got out of six months of relationship and shitty sex, so you're in the mood for something raw tonight--with that special person you always come back to. Inspired by this song Disclaimer : A PWP (Porn without Plot), MDNI Pls Character is owned by infold. CW// Mention of childbirth, death Might be OOC, If you don’t like it, skip it Please be mindful of what you read in the internet Tags : fingerfucking, public raw sex

The night is kinda young but still hums with possibilities. It’s only 8 pm, and you’ve left your apartment earlier than usual — no pregame, no distractions — just the raw hunger coursing through you. Sylus had called this morning, his voice smooth over the phone.

“Welcome back. I booked a sofa in your favorite club. Come by and have fun. I haven’t seen your pretty face in a while, Sweetie.”

You smile at the memory, hearing his voice has done something to your brain.

Of course, he hadn’t seen you, you have been in a relationship these past six months, the kind that looks good on paper, the kind that your mother approves of. She had called your ex-boyfriend “perfect” — a man with a good background and high social standing — a man who could be paraded through your family’s circle without questions.

But to you? He was just good enough to waste time with. He’s a fucking wimp, he’s clueless with his dick, he’s also too vanilla for you. You had finally pulled the trigger yesterday, you told him bluntly that you find him icky, and you need someone who knows what they’re doing — someone who can take control without being told how.

Life is complicated already, you don’t need the hassle of telling someone what to do when he’s fucking you. Just make it right, and be done with it. Your ex? He was just too…soft.

The second your ex left your apartment, you texted the one person who you needed to see ASAP.

Just landed, dinner?

It’s like a code between you two, one that neither of you bother to explain anymore. You remember he teased you about it one time, “You can just say, ‘landed’, so I don’t feel too hurt when you come looking for a rebound in my arms. It will feel like you have just come back from a long trip, Sweetie.”

“Oh please, you don’t do feelings, Sylus. That heart of yours is incapable of feeling hurt.” You replied, half laughing.

He smiled at you and kissed you, “With you, I feel all sorts of feelings, Sweetie.”

Lies.

The man is a maniac, he has no time to think about feelings, he’s too busy running his criminal empire, too ruthless to let love complicate things, and you know that.

Remember the Godfather? Love has no place at all in that world.

Hence why he can’t be your endgame. Your mother would die from a heart attack if she finds out that her only daughter is messing around with a mafia don.

You’re wearing what can only be described as undergarments — a mere satin slip dress that clings to your skin like a second skin, barely qualifies as a piece of clothing, the fabric so thin it might as well not exist, but that’s the fucking point. The red hue is a deliberate choice you made last minute, a nod to Sylus’s favorite color, and you chose it with a singular mission in mind: to get fucked by him until you can barely walk.

Mind you, it’s been half a year without Sylus in your life.

As you drive through the city, memories of Sylus come crashing back — of him taking you anywhere, everywhere, with a feral ferocity that leaves you breathless with everything you think about it. The city lights blur you, the atmosphere is electric, matching the anticipation that already building between your thighs. Your favorite classical piece is playing from your car audio, a stark contrast to the thoughts racing through your head.

There’s nothing classic about what you’re thinking right now.

You know exactly how you want it, you’ll ask him to fuck you right there in the club, hidden in plain sight. Slow and subtle, you have to suppress your moan, or he has to cover your mouth, you know you prefer the latter. You can already feel your pulse between your thighs, your tits hardening, the cool temperature only gets you hornier and hornier, and it’s oh-so-delicious.

You are finally ending a draught, saying goodbye to six months of bad sex.

The high-rise building where the club is situated comes into view, you drive your way into the valet section, stealing a glance at yourself in the rearview mirror, making sure your flawless smoke eyes and long lashes are ready.

Ready as the testament, as a trophy, of what a night with Sylus would be like. You know he loves seeing you messy, and tonight, you’re so ready to let him ruin you. “I love you out of control, messy just for me.” He had said after a successful yet teary deep throat that made your mascara crumbled.

The elevator ride feels endless, ascending to the top floor takes you a while, yet your body is already yearning for Sylus. When the floor indicator ding and opens, your pulse is ringing in your ears, making you almost roll your eyes. Two ushers meet you the moment you step out. “Let us take you to Mr Sylus.” One of them says, and you reply, “Yes, please.”

The club is pretty packed, old-school hip-hop and RnB are blasting through the speakers, some hard-hitting beats and sensual hum lulling your body to move, and you can’t help but agree, your shoulders, neck, and head, move according to the beat, subtle, not too eager. When you look at the dance floor, people are dancing, body rolls, and intimate movements, they’re getting their high by moving flawlessly and expressing themselves.

You finally reach the final step of stairs where Sylus has reserved a balcony for the two of you. He’s sitting elegantly, or rather dangerously, on a red velvety sofa, that gives you a slight boudoir vibe. Donning an all-black ensemble, legs crossed, a glass of whiskey in one hand, and a cigar in the other, he looks like a painting,

“Sylus.” You call his name, and he turns his attention to you.

Sylus is wearing his glasses — your favorite glasses — a frameless glass that barely visible to the normal eyes. To you, he’s like wearing a lingerie covered with an expensive suit. He turns his attention to you, his eyes sharp, his red vivid, something tug within you when he let out a slow smile.

“Sweetie.” Sylus calls out. He gets up from the sofa, and put off both his vices when he finally opens his arms, you are already back to where you belong, safe and nestled in his space.

Your fingers find their own way to latch onto his neck, locking him in your embrace. His hands already back to where they belong, sprawled on the sides of your waist, “You’ve been gone for a while, Sweetie.” He whispers while closing the distance between you and his front.

“Oh..” A little moan, you forget how satisfying it is to you to be manhandled by him. “Sylus…” You look at him and you feel like the world is tipping on its axis. “My dear, Sylus.”

‘He’s everything that I’ve ever wanted…’ You think to yourself. ‘Why did I obey my mother when I can have this man, every fucking day, whenever, wherever?’ You continue to ponder while your thumbs move through his sharp facial feature, feeling the texture of his skin, bridge of his nose, and the curve of his lips.

You know the answer and you have accepted the fact that you and him can never be together long ago, and you will never forgive the world for this. It’s cruel, yet you can’t do anything. He’s a mafia don for god’s sake, you don’t mix yourself in their problem or you will be the one getting gunned down.

“I have missed you so much, my sweet Angel.” He’s towering over you, his face inches away from you, his hot breath is all over you, the musky scent of cigar and whiskey is not your favorite but you can’t help but feel turned on.

Sylus pepper kisses all over your face, from your cheeks, to your chin, your nose, your forehead, the smallest of kisses, yet it makes you hot and bothered.

“Sylus…”

“Tell me what you want.”

“I can’t wait any longer, please.”

“I can’t say no when you beg like that, Sweetie, I’m not a monster…”

“Pleaase, Sylus…I need your cock in me…”

“Good, good girl…”

Sylus pushes you up against the concrete balcony that covers half of your body. You can feel the vibration of the bass from the music downstairs through your stomach, you have a bird’s eye view on the partygoers downstairs, and you think, ‘Nobody knows that I’m going to get railed so good.’ The idea of doing it in open space, with the most dangerous man in the city has successfully create a wet reaction down your string.

His hands move on your body seamlessly, gliding through smoothly, taking both of your hands to the back, arching your back in the process, while he pushes his front to your back, letting you know that he’s already hard and demands to be satisfied.

“Such a bad girl,” Sylus whispers against your ear from behind, “Wearing this poor excuse of a dress…” his hands now reaching the hem of your dress, hiking it up until one of your thigh is exposed to the cool night’s air, “Coming here and wanting to get fucked in front of everyone..”

His finger is now playing with your string, caressing your ass so sensually that you can’t help but moan. “Sh….Syl…Sylus.” Your words are broken at his touch, “Please…” Your heart is pounding, skin tingling, calloused fingers touching you roughly, marking your delicate skin as his.

Without warning, Sylus pull your string to the sides, yanks your dress, bunching it around your waist, and pushes his hand between your thighs, feeling your wetness, how ready you are for him. His fingers slip through your wetness, making intimate contact with your folds.

“Ah…Sylus…” That’s all you manage to let out, needy whimper and uncontrollable moan.

“Tell me..” He growls, “How much do you want me?”

You don’t have to think, “So much…please…more than anything.” You are desperate to be filled by him. “I…I can’t wait anymore, Sylus…”

“Such a good girl…” Sylus pulls back and unbuckle himself, letting his cock free. “Feel this. Feel my desperation for you, Sweetie.” He rubs his hard-as-rock cock on your pussy, making repeated motions up and down, from your clit to your entrance. “I haven’t even fuck you yet and it already feels so…fucking…good…” Sylus whispers in your ear, his other hand cupping your hard peaks behind the balcony, overstimulating you.

“Sshhhh….Sylus…oh…”

“So so good…”

“Mhhyeahh…”

“Please I need you…put it in..”

You can’t think, no coherent thoughts forming in your head other than Sylus filling you in with his big cock and cum.

“I’ll ruin you, Sweetie.” His guttural moan when he enters you with ease, “Oh…” taking you apart, making your pussy pulsates even more. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, you wiggle your hips a little, accepting the thick cock you have missed so much, his hands steadying you, letting you know that you’re not going anywhere.

Sylus starts to push again, a broken moan escapes your lips as he fills you completely, your body stretched tight around him, and when you starts to move, his groan is getting wilder.

“Fuck…” he groans, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. “You’re so tight… it’s like you were made for me.”

You whimper, trying to move, needing more of him, but he holds you steady, controlling the pace. He begins to thrust into you, slow at first, but with each stroke, he drives deeper, with more pressure applied, hitting just the right spot, making you gasp and cling to him for dear life.

The sounds of the club fade into the background as the world narrows to just the two of you — the heat, the rhythm of your bodies moving together, the way he takes you like no one else ever has.

Your moans grow louder, mingling with his grunts of pleasure as he fucks you relentlessly, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. His hand slides down to your thigh, trying to coax your orgasm faster by playing with your clitoris,

“Sylus…” you cry out, barely able to form coherent words. “I’m going to — “

“Come for me,” he orders, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread as he pounds into you harder, faster. “I want to feel you come.”

That’s all it takes. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you clench around him, your nails digging into his arms that hold you. Eyes rolled so hard you can even see stars, and when you're able to open your eyes again, you can feel your tears coming down your face, your orgasm so good that it makes you cry.

He groans, his hips slamming into yours, deliciously slow, as he chases his own release, pushing you both to the edge. With one final thrust, he stills, buried deep inside you, his body tensing as he comes, filling you with his cum. You collapse against the balcony, and he is against you, you breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat.

For a moment, the world stands still, just the sound of your ragged breaths and the distant noises of the club beneath you.

Then, slowly, he pulls out, setting you back on your feet, though your legs are shaky from the intensity of what just happened. Sylus smiles down at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you softly, a stark contrast to the roughness of moments before.

You smile weakly, still catching your breath, your body tingling in the afterglow.

“Messy just for you,” you whisper, echoing his earlier words.

Sylus chuckles, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. “I wanna see you crying on my cock, Sweetie”

“Take me home then, Sylus.”

[ahszoebns]

Not just a one night stand. Colby Brock

Y/n's POV:

I sigh as I look myself over in the mirror of my best friend's, Kat’s, house before I call out to her.

"Kat I don't know about this, I feel stupid..." I confess feeling completely unsure about the costume she got me for her Halloween party that will start any minute now. Unamused that I told her I didn't feel like dressing up she told me she'd buy the perfect costume and if I didn't wear it I would not be allowed to come. Reluctantly I agreed, however, seeing myself in the slightly skimpy fallen angel outfit I wish I would have just stayed home. At least she didn't make me wear the fake blood on my face I guess.

Dressed as Morticia from the Addams family she pokes her head into the doorway and her eyes light up instantly. "What?! Why not it's perfect! You look so hot and you love the color black!"

"It's just a little much for me, Kat," I say, sighing trying not to disappoint her but also not understanding why on earth, besides for my love of the color black and darkness, she'd pick something like this for me.

"Exactly! Try something new, get out there, mingle!" She smiles and winks at me and now I suddenly know what all this is about.

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at her. "Is this about my love life again?" I ask her seriously and knowing she loves to try to set me up with anyone she deems fit the moment the opportunity presents itself as I have horrible luck in the dating world.

"What? No!" She lies trying to cover it with a laugh awkwardly. I glare at her again already knowing the truth. "Ugh, okay yes! But it's different this time I think you two will really hit it off!"

I groan running a hand through my hair. "Katrina girl, I love you, but you have to stop trying to set me up okay? I barely ever even get a first date out of them, I'm not like you, boys just don't fall at my feet."

She rolls her eyes. "Was is that suppose to mean? She asks.

"It means I'm not famous, I'm not talented, I'm not a youtube icon, I don't have a hair and makeup team on call, I'm just me," I say exasperatedly at the fact that Katrina doesn't see how different dating is for the two of us. You may be wondering how in fact we even become friends but that's a long story that includes a horrendously embarrassing spilled coffee episode.

"Yeah but your kind and funny and interesting, and beautiful! There is nothing wrong with being you and I know for a fact this guy will absolutely fall head over heels for you." She says confidently crossing her arms to mirror mine trying to convince me. Sighing in defeat I sit down on the closed toilet that is clad with a slightly tacky but admittedly comfy lavender fuzzy cover. "And if we are so perfect for each other why haven't you introduced us before?"

I ask skeptically.

She comes closer so she can fix the hair I slightly messed up by running my hand through it before explaining. "Well he has been in a relationship until recently plus I haven't seen him in a while but he's finally on the market again!"

I look at her in complete surprise. "Kat! I don't want to be some sad and lonely guy's rebound!" I protest, causing her to purse her lips and glares at me.

"He's not like that!" She insists before going over to the mirror to touch up her make up one more time.

"He's a great guy, you'll love him." She says and I sigh. "Oh and not to mention he's a great kisser." She smirks before winking walking out of the room when the sound of the doorbell rings through the house.

"Wait how do you know he's a great kisser?!" I call out to her as I see her head down the stairs. She just giggles without an answer casually turning on the music. Oh god, what am I in for tonight?

Colby’s POV:

"How do I look?" I ask my best friend Sam as we approach the house of my friend Kat. She is throwing a huge Halloween / costume party tonight but that's not all. After being single for almost two months after my long-term relationship I'm finally ready to get back out there and Katrina said she wanted to set me up with one of her good friends. Although I was a little reluctant at first I agreed and well, here I am.

"Yes dude, don't be so nervous." Sam chuckles, nudging me.

I roll my eyes at him. "I actually want this to go well please excuse me for caring," I say sarcastically as I straighten my black devil costume out. My last relationship ended because it simply wasn't going anywhere. It had lost its spark and just became a game of who was willing to cave first. I'm ready to have something real again and to be with someone I truly care about and who truly cares about me.

"I'm telling you, you don't have to worry, you guys are seriously perfect for each other." He says trying to convince me not to get too worked up.

I nod and we walk inside the house booming with music and the smell of liquor around every corner.

Katrina sure does know how to throw a party. We start making our way to the bar passing a few people we know casually saying hi and waving but I know if I'm going to make it through the night I'm going to need a drink.

"Can I get a beer?" I ask the bartender quickly paying him.

Sam orders a drink too and then starts to look for Kat and whoever this mystery girl is. I down about half of my drink immediately before Sam sighs. "Ugh." He groans. "She said they'd meet us at the bar but I don't see them."

"She probably bailed," I mumble slightly irritated by the situation wishing that they'd just let me do this on my own.

"Stop being so negative, I'll text Kat now," Sam grumbles pulling out his phone as I down half my beer down trying to get loosened up a little. "She's calling me now, hold on."

Sam answers the phone plugging the ear he isn't using to listen to his call so there isn't so much noise to distract him. "Yeah, we're here where are you!?" Sam says smiling as he talks into his phone.

"Okay, okay yeah, see you in a few."

"So?" I ask him curiously as he shoves the phone back into his back pocket.

"Kat wants to meet them outside by the pool, and said people are out there but it's not as loud." Sam shrugs and points towards the back door.

I nod and we start walking in that direction. I look around for any possible signs of Kat and her friend. We went outside and as we turned the corner Kat was standing there waiting for us.

"Hey! So look don't tell her I told you this but she's kind of nervous, she really doesn't do this stuff, and she might be shy but you'll love her I promise." Katrina immediately begins to ramble at us. We give her a hug seeing that she seems a little frazzled by everything happening right now.

"Don't worry Colby asked me if he looked okay like 20 times on the way here, he's just as flustered as she is," Sam says patting me on the back. I glare at him mumbling how it's just because I haven't done this in a while but they both ignore me. "Where is she anyway?"

Kat smiles widely, turns to look behind her and motions over to the table area. "See the cute Y/H/C one in the Fallen Angel costume? That's your girl." A

As my eyes fall on the girl matching the description my jaw slacks, she's absolutely gorgeous. She's sitting at one of the tables with a drink in her hand as she looks around at the people in the pool. I take notice right away of everything from the pink of her lips to the way the fabric of the costume hugs her curves.

"Like what you see buddy?" Sam asks with a laugh snapping me out of my gaze. I nod blushing slightly as I look back at him and Katrina who turns back to us. "I picked out her costume so it would match yours. You both love dark things and I figured it would be a great way to break the ice!"

I nod again trying to form sentences and not have my eyes wander back to her. "W-What's her name?" I ask softly.

"Y/F/N," Kat replies.

Sam groans as he nudges me. "Come on guys, are we just going to stand here gawking at her for the entire night or what?"

"Sam’s right, let's go!" Kat starts to laugh as he grabs my arm and begins pulling me over to the beautiful girl across the yard.

Y/n's POV:

As I look up from the pool I lock eyes with Kat who is heading straight towards me. Behind her are two guys and I instantly recognize them. Sam Golbach and Colby Brock. You have to be joking, it all makes sense now. She's setting me up with Colby who’s one of her and her boyfriends best friends.

She smiles at me and I flash her a look of I can't believe you. Narrowing her eyes she mouths the word "behave" to me like my mother would when I was a kid. I roll my eyes and stand up awkwardly as they get closer and closer.

"Y/n! There you are, I have someone for you to meet!" She says as if our little exchange didn't happen. "This is Sam and Colby, Colby was the one I was telling you about."

My whole face turns red at her last phrase and I look up forcing myself to smile and make eye contact with them. "H-hi." I manage to say.

Colby is looking down at me with a slight blush to his cheeks as well. He can't possibly be nervous to meet me, can he? "Hey, uh nice uh costume." He smiles trying his best to sound put together.

I look down at his costume and finally realizing why Kat choose this for me. Dylan and I match and our characters just happen to be in love.

Coincidence? I think not. I shoot her a look but laugh a little to cover it up. "You too."

"Well, Sam and I are going to leave you two be!

Have a good night you guys!" Katrina claps before grabbing Sam's arm and pulling him away.

Colby and I both instantly turn to our friends calling after them and then awkwardly meeting our eyes back to one another. I look away from him shyly. What was she thinking? I can't do this, I can't talk to him, let alone like he'd have any interest in me.

"Uh, can I get you a drink?" Colby asks me, snapping my attention back up to him.

I raise my hand up with my drink in it. "I uh already have one." I smile a little at him trying to be nice. "But thanks."

He chuckles. "Sorry I just, I haven't done this whole thing in a long time..." He says getting a little redder and reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

"It's okay, I understand, I'm not the best at this either," I say laughing a little and trying to lighten the mood a bit by confessing to him.

He rolls his eyes laughing. "Oh come on, yeah like I'm supposed to believe a beautiful girl like you has such a hard time finding someone to go out with."

His words cause my entire body to heat up. Does he think I'm beautiful? "Oh, I oh..." I giggle a little embarrassed.

He looks at me after taking a sip of his drink. "Oh sorry was that too creepy, fuck see, I'm not good at this!"

"No, no it's okay, it was nice, I'm just not used to being called that," I say immediately not trying to make him feel bad. "Well I think you're gorgeous and whoever says differently need to get their damn eyes checked."

He says recovering from closing up a bit to me.

I giggle taking a sip of my drink before answering.

"Well, you're not too bad yourself," I tell him blushing still. He smirks a little and I guess I helped boosts his confidence. I can't believe he's actually nervous just around me.

"Do wanna sit a while a talk? You know, get to know each other a little more?" He asks a glint of hope in his eyes as he smiles.

The same warm feeling spreads through me again and I nod. "I'd love that."

Colby’s POV:

An hour and a half, as well as three beers later Y/n and I haven't moved from our spot since. It turns out Kat may have been right when she said we have a lot in common. We are both complete tv and movie addicts, we listen to the same kind of music, and we are both super sarcastic.

I swear I could listen to her talk forever.

Occasionally she goes on these little side tangents where she begins to talk faster and her eyebrows move creating the cutest little creases on her forehead.

Oh and that's the other thing. She's probably the downright most beautiful girl I've ever seen. While we've been talking I realized how alluring her eyes are making me never want to look away. The way her hair falls so effortlessly drives me crazy thinking about how soft it must be. And then her smile, god, every time I make her smile my whole body heats up.

Fuck I really like her. I really really like her. I already know she'll be the death of me, that is if she likes me but I think she might. The way she leans a little when she laughs and how over the short amount of time we've spent together, she's already began to loosen up around me. However, that may also have to do with the fact she's on her second mixed drink.

Suddenly she stops talking and I worry that I got lost in my thoughts so much that I missed a question but thankfully she quickly sighs and smiles. "I love this song." She says nodding towards the house where the music is blaring and people are dancing.

I listen closely and chuckle a little. "Me too." She smiles and blushes having to look away from me and then I realize what she's doing. She wants me to ask her to dance. Right? Maybe not I could be miss-reading this but I think that's what's happening. I would really like to dance with her maybe I should just ask. I clear my throat a little.

"D-do you want to uh... dance? With me? I mean like in there... You don't have to but, if you like that song - I like the song - and I like uh, well I feel like we are getting along and-" I say stumbling a tad to find the wording I want.

She looks back up at me, her smile bright and her cheeks rosy as she cuts me off, saving myself from further embarrassment. "Yeah, I'd like that a lot

I smile trying to contain my excitement by biting my bottom lip a little. "Great." We stand up and leave our empty drinks behind as we make our way towards the house. I look down at her without her noticing she begins to look a little nervous. "You okay?" I ask her worried.

Y/n nods a little and looks up at me. "I just, uh, I'm not very good at this." She giggles. "I said yes because I want to but I don't really know what I'm doing. I'm not really a dancer."

I smile at her being shy, similar to how she was when we first met. I look out at the crowd watching people move to the beat and I look back at her. "I could teach you?" I offer.

"Y-you don't have to Colbs we can just go talk more I don't want to embarrass myself or you." She says the blush on her face growing stronger.

When she called me Colbs my heart nearly skipped a beat. "Oh stop, I know you want to, and I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to." I remind her as I slowly brush my hand against her's. "You could never embarrass me." "Okay." She says with a deep breath giving in to me while moving her hand to brush back over mine.

I decide to take a leap of faith and lace my fingers with hers gently. She smiles shyly at me as we give each other's palms a small squeeze. "Let's go." I pull her into the crowd with a spin making her giggle.

We begin to dance together and at first, we keep it friendly and silly always keeping our hands held tight but as one song turns to two, two to three, three to four, and four to five we have pressed up close to each other swaying again one another to the beat. Somehow along the way both of our awkwardness subsided and has now been replaced with undeniable sexual tension. I hold her hips firmly keeping her close to me as she has her on hand on my shoulder and the other slung over my shoulder. Her cheeks are flushed due to the heat of the dance floor and the heat between us. Hell, we are so close together I can feel her heart racing just like mine.

I look at her, looking back at me. I like her more with every passing second and I decide to take a shot in the dark. "I really want to kiss you right now." I mummer softly and breathy hoping my want for her doesn't ruin what we have.

She looks at my lips before her eyes flicker up to mine. "Nothing's stopping you." She whispers and smiles bashfully. Surprised but completely ecstatic I smirk before leaning in and pressing my lips to hers.

Y/N's POV:

Colby crashes his lips on mine as soon as I give him the okay. Somehow he seems to pull me closer to him than we were before. The kiss is long and passionate and I kiss him back. Our lips move together beautifully as he moves one of his hands up to my face cupping it and keeping my lips close.

I run my fingers through the hair on the back of his head in response.

After a few more moments we pull away. I let out a small gasp for air, my head feeling slightly dizzy from the intense kiss.

"I'm so fucking glad I met you..." Colby breaths out, his hot breath fanning across my face.

I blush and nod. "Agreed," I said giggling a little trying to make myself less nervous about this whole situation and how fast we seem to be moving.

He smiles and tucks some hair behind my ear. "I'm glad you think so too because I'd really love to take you out sometime... that is if you'd let me?" He asks again mirroring my nerves with his own uncertainty.

"I'd love that," I say softly and decided to be brave by going on my tippy toes to kiss him once again.

Colby smiles against my lips and kisses me back. When we pull back, movement catches my eye from behind him. Confused, I look over to see Kat waving her arms spastically. When we lock eyes she motions me over quickly.

"Everything okay?" Colby asks his grip loosening on my sides and looking over his shoulder at

Kat who tries to trick him into thinking she's calm and collected.

I roll my eyes and giggle a bit. "Yeah, I think Kat needs me for a moment," I say casually before his face falls into worry. Quickly I place a hand on his arm. "I'll be back."

He smiles again and nods happily. "I'll be here."

Smiling, I turn and walk over to Colby quickly and excitedly.

"Did I really just see what I think I saw?!" She asks with a huge smile plastered on her face.

I blush and nod as she squeals excitedly. "Kat!

Shhhhh!" I say turning and trying to make sure Colby isn't watching us. He's talking to some guy I don't know and I sigh thankfully.

"Oh my god! You like him so much!" She says not caring if he hears or not.

I laugh and pull her off to the side a little more.

"Yes, okay I like him," I admit to her and myself. "I like him a lot actually.." I can't help but smile at the thought of how our lips fit together like perfect puzzle pieces, and how much we had in common, and how overall he's just honestly blown me away.

"Awwww!" She smiles. "See I told you! And don't be mad but I've been keeping my eyes on you tonight, things are getting pretty heated out there, what are you going to do?" She asks me and I already know what she's referring to.

I sigh and scratch at my arm a tad anxiously. "I don't know Kat...."

She rolls her eyes at me crossing her arms firmly.

"Y/n I can see it in your eyes that you want him, and trust me girlie, he wants you. For once don't overthink this babe."

"What if he thinks I'm being easy and then nothing actually happens between us. As much as I hate to admit it, you were right, and now I really want things to work out with him. I never do things this quickly in a relationship." I explain conflicted on whether to give him to my desire or do guard my heart.

"I told you, he's not a one night stand kind of guy.

She tries to reason with me. Again I steal a quick look at him over my shoulder. I must have caught his eye because he smiles at me with a little wave.

"And look he obviously likes you too." I give him a small wave back before looking at her again without an answer. "Fine so don't fuck him right away, but at least get out of here. Go back to your place, have some wine, put in a movie, and see what happens?"

I decide she's right. I need to live a little more, try new things, and take some risks. I like Colby a lot, and well Kat does know about this stuff more than I do. "Fine." I sigh.

"Yes! Oh my god, go get 'em girlie!" She squeals again forcefully grabbing my shoulders and turning me towards the direction I came in and pushing me away.

I laugh at her and she winks at me before I disappear out of her sight to go catch up with Colby.

Walking back over him he grins widely once he sees me. "Everything okay?" He asks thoughtfully making my heart jump a little.

"Yeah everything is perfect," I say smiling. I think about what Kat said, and how right now here this seemingly perfect guy is standing here in front of me just waiting for me to say something else. I take a subtle deep breath. "D-do you maybe want to go somewhere?" I ask.

"Like where?" He asks chuckling a little bit.

I blush realizing I should have clarified more. "Well I didn't know if you wanted to go back to my place, maybe watch The Kissing Booth?" I ask him knowing we talked about the movie trailer and that he has been dying to see it.

His smile grows and he nods. "I'd love to, that sounds great."

My heart flutters at his words and the fact that I thankfully didn't just make a fool out of myself. We then head out of the house and Colby orders an uber considering we've both already had a few drinks.

On the drive over we make small talk about the party but he slowly moves his hand over to mine and laces our fingers back together. We keep them together as we get to my apartment building.

I unlock my door and let us into my apartment.

"Welcome to my humble abode," I say flicking the lights on and closing the door behind us.

We share a chuckle and Colby looks around, surveying the area. "Why thank you, madame." He teases me, making me blush for some reason.

"The movie is on the rack, do you want some wine or something?" I ask him as we walk further into the living room and I point over to my rack of movies.

He walks over to the rack pursuing it carefully. "Wine would be great." He says.

"Coming right up, make yourself at home," I say quickly before going into my kitchen to get us both a drink.

When I come back into the room Colby is sitting on the couch reading the back of the DVD case. I smile and set the wine glasses down on my coffee table.

"Here ya go, I'll put that in," I say as he hands me the DVD.

"Thank you." He says happily taking a sip from his glass. "Wow, good wine."

I laugh a little. "Thanks, honestly I just got was on sale last time I was at the store."

He chuckles and shrugs as I come to sit down next to him. "Well, I like it." I giggle back taking a sip myself.

The movie starts and we mutter remarks about the actors and plot and so on and as the sweet liquid starts to disappear from our glasses we subtly move closer and closer on the couch.

At one point as he scoots a little closer he looks down at me and smiles. "W-would it be okay if I put my arm around you?" He asks a little softly as he blushes.

I nod and blush back at him. "Sure..." I say turning back to the screen to hide the fact that I find myself nervously biting at my bottom lip.

I feel his arm move upwards and then gently wrap around my shoulder. Moving a little closer to him to make the position more comfortable I sigh a bit feeling surprisingly relaxed in his arms.

A while passes and the scene where Elle and Noah have their first kiss comes on. As finally, their lips touch a slight tension fills the air.

Colby clears his throat a little and to my surprise, he breaks the silence. "You know I bet they dated in real life.."

I look up at him slightly confused. "What makes you say that?" I ask him.

He shrugs a little looking down at me. "Well it's hard to fake something like that."

Well, how can you tell they just didn't fake it really well?" I ask with a small smirk playfully egging him on a little.

Smiling he shrugs again. "You can't fake something like that, you can't fake that kind of... of passion..." He looks me in the eyes and with the movie, and our proximity, and him just being him, I find myself wanting to kiss him again.

"Passion huh?" I giggle a little trying to cover up the fact that my heart is picking up a little speed as we now seem to be leaning in closer together.

He chuckles briefly and then looks at me for a moment. "What something wrong with a little passion?" He asks me softly while seemingly studying my eyes.

"Not at all, just seems like I don't come by it a lot these days," I say quietly as our faces have become so close that our noses are almost brushing.

"Me neither....'

." He whispers. "B-but I... I think I

felt it tonight... with you."

That smooth bastard, I swear it's like he knows exactly how to make me melt. "I think I did to..." I respond looking at his lips and then back up at his eyes.

He smiles and closes the gap between us. We share a long passionate kiss, just like at Kat’s, but then suddenly it's like a switch flips inside us both and it turns a little more electric. Colby's hand that was wrapped around my shoulder moves down to my waist, pulling me in closer to him. I move slightly to be able to face him more before moving one of my hands to the side of his head and rests the other on his chest.

The kiss intensifies even as Colby runs his one hand through my hair and I pull him closer by his shirt that my hand is now gripping. He licks my bottom lip asking for entrance, which I immediately allow. He then slowly slips his tongue into my mouth exploring it excitedly. I do the same to him and we find ourselves in a slight battle for dominance. I give into him willingly, letting him set the pace.

He moves away from my mouth and kisses my cheek, my jaw, and to my neck where he whispers softly. "I-I really like you, and I really really like this, but I don't want to push you too far or too fast."

I pull away to look at him for a moment my heart overflowing with happiness of how sweet he's being. "D-do you think we're moving too fast?" I ask gently.

He smiles shyly. "Well, I usually don't even kiss on the first date, but this feels right to me.."

"I usually don't either... I think so too." I nod kissing him soft and sweet. "And for the record, I really like you too." I giggle a bit.

He chuckles and kisses me before answering. "God, you are so amazing." I roll my eyes at him playfully before kissing him once again.

His lips quickly find my neck again. He leaves open-mouthed kissing all along my neck before biting into my sensitive spot making me gasp as he sucks a mark onto my skin. "Cole..." I sigh in lust. "I love it when you call me that baby." He mumbles leaving my skin.

I don't really respond, although when he called me baby I about exploded. Instead, I just pull him back up to my lips kissing him desperately. He smiles against my lips before tightening his grip on my sides to pull me onto his lap.

Colby pulls me against him as I grip the hair on the back of his head and give it a tug. He groans under his breath and I feel his one hand move under my shirt setting my skin on fire. Slowly I move my hips grinding against him. We both breathe out subtle moans at the feeling of being that close together.

"Bedroom?" I ask pulling away breathlessly. He opens his eyes and nods with a huge grin coming over his face. I giggle a little at his reaction before climbing off of him and pulling him by his hand down the hallway.

I open the door and pull him in quickly but before I get the chance to do anything else he pushes me up against the door, shutting it in the process. He kisses me immediately taking me by surprise at first but then I fall right back under his spell.

Deciding to take things a step further I reach for his shirt and begin to tug it upwards. He takes the hint and moves only to take it off and throw it to the side but before I can do anything else he grabs my shirt pulling it off my body. Then he finally returns to my lips allowing us to pull each other close again. trail my hands down his chest and abdomen admiring the tattoos, ripples, and divets as I go while he moves his hands down to undo my pants. They fall to the ground and I kick them off before he decides to swing me around and push us back onto my bed.

We share a few more increasingly sloppy kisses before I move to kiss at his birthmark on his jaw. He moves his hands down to his pants to start getting them off of himself as I move down to his neck.

Once they're off he kicks them somewhere and flips us over so that I'm straddling him once again.

He begins to kiss at my shoulder as I focus on his neck but as he moves his hands to remove my bra he adds another mark to my collarbone. Between his lips and his hands now cupping both my bare breasts, Ilet out a moan. My moan causes him to jerk his hips a little and grind against me. I can feel how hard he is against my core and moan again.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful baby, I want to see the rest of you, okay?" Colby whispers huskily. I nod running my fingers through his hair.

Colby carefully begins to kiss down my body. All over my skin from the valley of my breasts to the dips of my pelvis occasionally nibbling as he goes.

"That feels so good," I mumble through a sigh.

He chuckles a little and after pressing a kiss to one of my hips he smiles up at me. I blush slightly embarrassed but he begins to pull down my panties. "Don't be embarrassed, I've got you." I nod again sitting up on my elbows to see him better. When he gets my panties off he licks his lips before moving my thighs apart and kissing up them. With each inch, my heartbeat increases and my body gets hotter and hotter. "May I?" He asks allowing his breath to fan over my throbbing center.

"Please Cole," I whine slightly tugging at his hair again and biting my bottom lip. Slowly he leans in and gently begins to tease me with his tongue. "Oh, fuck." I let out instantly.

"You taste fucking amazing baby." He mumbles continuing his movements that are beginning to make me moan.

Colby grips the top of my thighs with his hands keeping them apart and down for them as he feels me slightly squirm under his touch. And the more and more he teases me the more and more desperate I become for him. "C-colby, please, it feels so good but I need you, I can't wait anymore.

He pulls up from me and smirks. "No problem baby." He says sitting up and pulling down his boxers. His hard cock slaps against his skin and he groans at the feeling of his restrains finally being gone. "Do you have a condom?" He asks suddenly snapping me from the daze of staring at his impressive size.

"Yeah, one second," I say rolling over to get one from the bedside drawer. Once I've got it I rip it open and sit up on my knees. Blushing I look up at down at him. "D-do you want me to put it on?" I ask him shyly.

"Definitely, but only if you want to." he smiles caressing the curve of my hip gently. I lean forward and tenderly pick up his hard cock by its base.

"Fuck..." He mutters under his breath, obviously suppressing a moan.

Carefully I roll the rubber sleeve down over him making sure it's on properly. "That okay?" I ask to make sure.

He sits up on his knees as well, so that he can kiss me passionately and pull me close once again.

"Perfect..." He smiles pulling back just enough to speak. "A-and you're sure about this?"

I nod kissing him again before speaking. "I'm sure, are you?"

"A million percent sure." He chuckles before leaning down to sweep me up and throw be on my back so that he can hover over me.

We kiss passionately and desperately, our lips and occasionally our teeth crashing together. I tangle my hands in his hair as he grabs my hip with one hand and his cock with the other. He then begins to line up with me, the sensation of his tip slightly poking at my entrance causing me to shiver with anticipation.

"Colby, please don't tease." I whimper against his

lips. He smiles and whispers back. "I'm sorry." And with that, he carefully pushes into me. I gasp and he groans as he bottoms out inside me. His hand that was guiding him gripping my other hip. I swear he's holding me so tight bruises will be in the place of his fingertips in the morning. "T-tell me when you're ready princess." He stutters out probably trying his best not to just begin fucking the living hell out of me.

I quickly adjust to the way he fills me up and how it makes me have prolonged butterflies in my lower stomach. "Go ahead, you don't have to be careful," I whisper.

He smirks again as he moves his hips. It doesn't take long for him to pick up speed and begin pounding in and out of me.

"You feel so fucking good." He groans pressing his forehead against mine.

I moan, squeezing my eyes shut at the feeling of the blissful pleasure. "Fuck, Cole! More please, I need you." I gasp letting a moan follow.

He grunts focusing on thrusting inside of respond as well as moving his one hand to rub at my clit.

Another moan rips through me making me buck my hips up to him making him groan and grunt again.

Every little move he makes sends waves of pleasure all throughout my body as the sound of my slapping skin and desperate noises fill the room.

Then with one particularly hard thrust, he begins to hit a spot deep inside me that makes my pleasure spike and my inner walls clench around him.

"Shit I'm so close," I whine to him moving one of my hands to grip his shoulder.

"Just let go for me, Cum for me, I'm close too, just let go." He rambles pressing a sloppy and quick kiss against my lips. "But open those pretty eyes princess, I want to look in your eyes."

Through the pleasure and edging closer and closer to my peak, I force my eyes open to look up at him.

His eyes are dark with lust, his cheeks are flushed, his forehead has these wrinkles in the skin from his facial expression, and there is a thin layer of sweat forming all over him. Something about seeing him this way and feeling him absolutely wrecks me in the best possible way makes me spiral into my orgasm. My mind goes into a hot white state, blocking everything out except what's happening right now in front (well inside) of me.

I moan out for him loudly, my thighs shaking, my fingers raking down his back, and my body clenching around him. His hips stutter in there pace before he twitches inside me before he lets out a disgruntled moan. I then feel him fill up the condom and experience his own high.

After we both come down we work on regaining our breath's as he pulls out of me. Colby rolls off of me immediately waddling to the trashcan to dispose of the condom. He then uses a tissue to make sure he's clean before laying back on the bed with me.

"That was so fucking good." He chuckles tiredly before pulling me into his grasp.

"I very much agree." I giggle allowing myself to cuddle into him.

I let out a large yawn as he presses his lips to my forehead. "Get some rest babe.." He whispers. The tiredness takes over me and I nod in return before allowing myself to cuddle into his grasp and drift asleep.

Softly shifting in the warmth of the covers I begin to suddenly awaken from my sleep. I smile to myself as the memories of last night flood into my mind immediately. Last night was the best night I've had in a long time, and one of the best night I've in general. Colby was amazing just as a person and in bed.

I take a deep breath allowing my eyes to flutter open as I rollover. I give my eyes a moment to adjust to the light coming through the curtains but when they do my heart breaks. Colby's gone.

Sitting up I push away the tears. I can't believe I actually thought this would work.

Echoes of him telling me how much he liked me and Kat assuring me this would be different echo in my head. I'm not mad at her, I kind of want to be but I know I can't be. She was just trying to help and for a brief moment last night she did.

With Colby, I was the happiest I've been in a long time. He really got to me with that whole nice guy act, god I feel so stupid.

I wipe my eyes pathetically as I go over to my closet tripping over some of my clothes on the way. I don't even bother to pick them up, I don't know if I can take any more reminders of last night. Pulling a long shirt over my head I grab some underwear to slip on and decide to go make some coffee.

When I go over and open my bedroom door the light blinds me for a moment. I rub my eyes and when I open them again I stop dead in my tracks.

"Hey gorgeous, did I wake you? I'm so sorry, I was going to bring it to you.

There standing in front of me is Colby, smiling brightly at me as he flips the pancake that he has in a pan on my stove. My heart jumps to life in shock and happiness. "Y-you're here?" I ask with a gasp and a smile coming over my face.

He gives me a confused look before it sinks in. "Oh, did you think I-?" He cuts himself as I nod a little embarrassed. He immediately turns off the stove and comes over to me. "No, no, no, I'd never! I'm so sorry." He says grabbing my hands. I sniffle a little and let out a small laugh. "Do be sorry! I- I just really like you and I thought you left... you know..."

He smiles. "I meant everything I said last night

Y/n. I really like you, I really liked what happened last night, and I really want to take you out sometime."

Happiness fills up my entire body and I grab him kissing him. "I really like you, I really liked what happened last night, and I'd really like that Colbs."

He smiles picking me up and spinning me around giving me kisses all over my face. I giggle kissing him tenderly as he puts me down. "Remind me to thank Kat later." He chuckles.

"Ditto," I reply as he kisses once again and then returns to breakfast before spending the rest of the morning cuddled up on the couch, fantasizing about what's the come.