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onlymexsarah · 3 days ago

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Burning Flames VI || Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: Suggestive, slight smut(?), language and my english :) A/n: Sorry for the waiting, but thank you for your patience! I'll see you at the end of the chapter, and if you want to be added to the taglist just let me know🫶🏻 Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3- Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Your back was pressed against some wall. His fingers felt like a ghost's touch on your neck, tracing immaginary lines all over your collarbone while everything inside you were on fire.

His scent was the only thing you could smell. Honey, burned wood, maple. He felt like the fire that kept you warm during the cold winter nights, like the sound of falling leaves in a autumn day, like a welcome breeze under the summer sun, like the perfume of a flowery meadow in spring.

His hot breath crashed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Tell me to stop, Little Flame."

Your eyes shut closed. Why would you want it to stop when it felt so heavenly?

As an answer you locked your hands behind his neck and brought his body toward yours, making you officially presseded between the wall and him.

His lips rested against the sweet spot behind your ear and you bite your lips to prevent any unholy sounds to leave your mouth. He started to slowly kiss your neck as one of his hands went into your hair, and tilted your head to give him more access, while the other grabbed firmly your waist, pinning your hips against the wall.

If his lips hadn't been enough to drive you crazy, his leg making its way between yours surely was. "This is all I dream about since the day I met you." he whispered with a low, rasped voice. He bite your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and making you grab his hair tightly as your head fall back against the wall behind you. "How would you taste..." his leg moved between yours, putting some pressure against your pulsing core, and this time you didn't hold the moan that grew in your throat. "The sounds you would make..."

Mother boils you.

His voice, his scent, his body. You could get lost in all of it and you would be eternally happy. It was so right being in his arms, pressed against his as your bodies were one. It felt as right as the stars shining during the night. As the sun rising at dawn. As the sun warming the day at its peak. As the sun seeting during dusk.

You were a torch and his mouth travelling down your neck, claiming every bit of it, was the spark that set you on fire. You wanted to burn, and you wanted to burn with him. His hair in your hands felt like they had always supposed to be there; his hot breath against your skin made you believe that no clothes or blanket would keep you warm again. His hands felt like they were shaped to be on your body, while him...he had been made to be with you.

Your head started to feel lighter, the air around you becoming colder with each breath. He stopped abruptly his movements and grabbed your hair tighter, as if he was holding it for his life. He brought his face away from your neck, and as you opened your eyes you were met with two golden pounds staring already in yours.

Eris.

Seeing him cleared something in your mind, and all of it suddenly felt more real. His hands were still holding you, and when his gaze softened you melted.

"I don't want to wake up." He whispered softly, as if he was afraid to speak too loud. "This is the only time I can be with you."

You furrowed your eyebrows, tilting slightly your head. 'Waking up'? You were very awake, and the male in front of you was exactly where he needed to be.

You brought a hand on his cheek, caressing the line of his face softly. Cauldron, he was so beautiful. If someone had asked you what perfection looked like, you would describe Eris, since there wasn't a single thing about him that hadn't been touched by the Mother herself.

"I am with you." You softly said while you gently pushed one of his curls away form his forehead. "We can be together whenever we want."

And why wouldn't you? There was nothing to stop you from being with him. His eyes hold the door of your home, there was nothing in the world that could keep you away from it. From him.

His narrowed his eyes, and you swore his gaze was burning right inside your soul. "You're here." he sounded surprised, like he had never seen you before. His fingers untangled from your hair and caressed you cheek, almost urgently, like you were doing to disappear at any moment.

You leaned in his touch as you let out a soft chuckle. "Why wouldn't I be?"

It was such a stupid question. You had always been with him. You had been with him from the moment you were born, you had been with him in all the past lives and you still would be with him in the nexts.

His eyes darkened. His fingers traces the line of your jawline, slowly, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. They moved towarch your chin, then your lips, and you slightly parted them as his thumb caressed your lower lip.

"Oh, Little Flame..." he was so close now that you felt his breath on your mouth. "So many reasons, and it's just a matter of time before you'll remember them."

Then he did something that completely shocked you. He brought both hands on your cheeks, and tilted his head upward, placing a soft, warmn kiss against your forehead. Your hands fell from his face to his shoulders, keeping him there, against you.

Your eyes closed as he kept his lips pressed against your head. This. You wanted this. You wanted him.

"I will make this right. I will kill my father so that he will never be able to hurt you. I will kill everyone who'll want to harm you. I will burn everything that will stop you from being happy." he brought his lips away, and his eyes met yours again. "I had been a monster, and I still will be one if it means protecting you. I swear this on my court, the only good thing I had in my life before you. And you and me are going to share it one day. Side by side, we will make it blooms with all the goodness that my father had crashed during the centuries. You'll have everything of me: goods and bads. It will all be yours."

Your breath was short, your heart was racing in your chest. His voice, so full of determination made it impossible to feel even a sheer of shame for wanting that monster. For wanting everything of him.

"Tell me you want this, Little Flame." he whispered, his face leaning a inch closer to yours.

Then, as you opened your mouth to answer him, everything went black.

***

You gasped for air as you opened your eyes and quickly sat up. Where were you? Everything was dark. The surface under you was soft and you swore that was silk the material touching your bare legs.

Town house. Velaris. Night Court.

Your still asleep mind quickly worked all the basic informations that you needed to calm down.

Where was Eris?

You had been together a moment ago, you swore you could still smell his scent in your nose. The sensations you were feeling were so similar to the one of winnowing, but no. It was a dream.

You were dreaming.

Of Eris.

It had felt so real. His touch, his voice, his smell. The feeling of his hands holding you felt like impressed in your body, and for a moment you shivered from the lack of it.

"Tell me you want this."

Cauldron, what were you going to say to him?

You swore you had been about to tell him something, but you couldn't remember what.

What would you answer now?

Gods, if only you knew that.

Your hand brushed back your hair as you sighed. He had offered you his court. Him. Would you have taken it?

In the dream you knew you would have. But in the real world? If Eris came to you and offered to you his whole being, what would you do?

Are you even listening to yourself? Eris? Offering you what?

The voice in your head scowled you like a child, and a wave of embarassment grew inside you. The dream really fucked you up. Even losing time to think about it was proof of your foolishness.

You had been training togheter for threee weeks now, and you had gotten kind of used to his presence. You had considerably improved with your powers, and somehow, at some point, you and Eris had even started to joke.

But, unfortunately, joking didn't come easy for you the next time you saw him. As soon as you saw his eyes the memory of the dream struck you and you had to hide your face with your hair in order to not let him see the deep blush that was forming on your cheeks.

The worst thing was that if before you just found him attractive, now everything he did made your head going dizzy. Like he moved his fingers to produce fire, or how his voice would lower when he gave you instructions.

You hadn't realized that he was behind you until his velvet voice said something in your ear you didn't catch, and the flames you were controlling over your hands exploded, burning some trees around you.

"That, I think Kallias would mind." snorted ironically Eris behind you, pointing to the trees.

You rolled your eyes as you quickly stepped away from him, having noticed that the closer you were the more flustered you got. "It was your idea to train in the Winter Court this time."

His eyes studied your movements, and you knew that he had noticed the distance you were keeping that day, he knew that something was wrong, and, oh Mother, you hoped he couldn't know why.

"You have enough control now, it doesn't matter where we train." He said with calm voice you knew he used when he was studying something. "But today you seem...distracted. Is something on your mind?"

Cauldron, it had been just a dream. He didn't know about it. He didn't know that everytime your eyes fell on him you felt a strange pull inside you, like the memories of his hands, lips and body on yours were still imprinted in your mind.

"Nope, all good." you quickly replied, waving a hand in the air and facing the snowing landscape again. "Must be the dinner. Azriel made me try a new spicy food."

'Must be the dinner'? Was this really the best thing that went in your mind?

Thankfully he dropped the subject, but it didn't go unnoticed his amused smirk.

You were so lost in your thoughts, mostly of him pushing you against the nearest tree, that when Azriel arrived you didn't even asked Eris the question that you were suppose to.

***

Everything was a mess. Nesta had been captured for the Blood Rite, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Eris had been captured by Briallyn and Rhys and Feyre had made a bargain to die togheter.

Eris had been captured.

By that bitch of Briallyn.

You tried hard to control the deafining song of your blood running wild in your veins. You would kill her. You would kill Briallyn for everything that she did, and you would make her suffer.

"Az can't go alone. We need you, Cassian." Feyra's voice was a low whisper over the rage that was building inside you.

Cassian, that bastard, had the nerve to esitate and then say, "Let him die."

"Screw you!" You jumped on your feet as you said those words, facing Cassian as if you weren't three feet shorter. You wouldn't let Eris die, and if you had to fight Cassian then it was better for his wings to be fireproof. "Eris is your ally, what kind of General are you if you let your allies to die?"

Cassian's eyes flared with rage that you were sure matched your own. "Your sister had been captured for the Blood Rite and you worry about some asshole who would be better off dead anyway?!"

You lift your chin higher, staring at the Lord of Bloodshed right in the eyes. "When my sister will come out alive from the Blood Rite, and she will, she'll only feel ashamed to be with someone who left everything crumble out of sadness for her disappearence."

Your words found their marks as Cassian winced under your gaze. People often forgot that Nesta was your twin, not vice versa. Every sharp behaviours she possesed, you had them sharper.

"Y/n." Feyre's warning tone made your head snap toward her.

"What?" you spitted out as your whole body tremble , begging you to take action and save Eris.

Rhys shifted shlightly in front of his mate, as if you were the threat at her life.

If you hadn't burn down his entire office few days ago he wouldn't be so caution around you, the voice in your head scoffed in your mind.

You couldn't have helped yourself. When Nesta told you and Feyre that the baby would likely kill your little sister, and that the whole Inner CIrcle knew about it and voted to keep Feyre in the shadows you had stormed inside Rhys' office and reminded him that while you were training with Madja to how use your power to heal, destruction came pretty easily to you if he dared to make choices for Feyre again.

"Maybe the Made dagger we gave him will grant him immunity from the Crown. If he's carrying the dagger, if they haven't unarmed him, it might shield him against another Made object." Feyre tried to reassure you with a calm voice, and somehow you felt even more sick.

You were showing everyone that you actually cared for the Heir of Autumn, the same male they all despise, and a wave of embarassment run all over you. It wasn't enough to calm the boiling blood inside you, but at least it made you take a step away from Cassian.

He was a mated male whose mate had just been captured in the middle of the night, you couldn't really blame him for not caring about anything else.

And we'll just pretend that this realization means nothing? A voice in your mind said sarcastically, but you shut it down before any following thoughts could come with it.

"There are plenty of other methods to get him to talk." Azriel's said darkly, and that sick sentation was back in your stomach.

If Briallyn did so much as touch him you would kill her with your bare hands, making her regret to be born in the same world as you were.

"I'll go with you." you said to Azriel, not leaving room for any arguments in your voice.

Amren scoffed beside him. "Stupidly honourable, but even if Cassian and Azriel are training you, you are no fighter girl. You can't even control your fire."

Your eyes snapped at her, and with a lazy smirk on your lips you rose your right hand, palm up toward the ceiling and let a fire as big as your face appear on it. "Can't I?"

A gasp escaped her mouth as Cassian widened his eyes. Amren narrowed hers as she studied you cautionly. "How?"

"I trained." You said with a little shrug, as you let your fire taking different forms over your hand. "With the same male that you are willingly letting in our enemy's hands."

Amren sneered a 'foolish girl' while her eyes shifted toward an unsurprised Feyre and Rhys, understanding that twice she had been left out of their secrets.

"Why?" Cassian asked beside you, looking at the flames on your hand. "He did nothing to deserve your trust."

You bit the inside your cheek, holding your tongue before you snapped back some comments that would only cause more troubles.

"He saved my life during the war with Hybern." you stated seriously, knowing it was time for them to know the truth. The way Azriel's eyes widened slightly made you understand that Rhys had just told him about your bargain with Eris, not the entire story. "I was with Elain when Hybern's soldiers found us. I told her to run while I stayed behind to buy her time...they were going to kill me if it hadn't been for Eris." You looked back at Cassian, your chin always high as you dared out the words that had been hunting you for months. "I know that in your shared history Eris had never proven to be trustworthy, but in ours shared past he did, and I'm going to repay the debt I own him."

Had you revealed too much of your thoughts? Had you looked like a stupid, naive girl obsessed over a male? You didn't care. Eris was in danger, and something warm inside you needed to save him, even if you were almost sure he would have never done the same for you.

"Be quick. Don't go near Briallyn for any reason." Rhys intructed you as you summoned the fighting leathers that Cassian had gifted you after three full weeks of training. "Y/n, follow their instruction and don't let emotions cloud your judgment. Eris might depends on your clear mind more than we can imagine."

You nodded before stepping beside Azriel and let him winnow you on the other side of the continent.

***

Eris was nowhere to be found in the lands surrounding the queens' castle, and you swore if you didn't find him before a week you would start to burn every piece of that castle until you found him.

You talked with a human merchant that was arriving just from the palace, and you weren't ashamed to say that you had used your High Fae's beauty to make him tell you if he had seen any 'new Fae male' around. He told you that a redhaired Fae male had been dragged to the castle the night before the last, and your stomach twisted at the word dragged.

Images of Eris hurt, bloody and chained flashed through your mind. You would make Briallyn pay for what she did.

"We'll wait here until they leave the castle. Then trail them from the cloud clover." Azriel instructed you with a dark tone that matched your face.

But no one went in or out of the castle for days. No one walked even close to it, the gate had stayed shut down closing the citizien in and the rest of the world out.

Cassian and Azriel patrolled the sky while you made sure to cover every inch of the ground surrounding the castle.

"Briallyn has to know we're here." Cassian said has he alit, his latest aerial survey completed. "You think she's waiting for us to make a move?"

"The place is guarded with as many wards as the House of Wind. If Briallyn is moving Eris, we'll be better off catching him then." Azriel said calmly, while shadows whispered in his ears.

"If he's still alive..." you murmur while you lit a little fire to keep all the three of you warm during the night.

The thought of Eris' death had placed roots in your head as soon as you had left Velaris. Your whole body froze everytime you remembered that you had no proof that the redhead still breath. You could feel his precense inside the castle, your whole soul knew that he was there, but maybe you were just sensing a body. A lifeless, cold, death body.

The thought of Eris' body turning cold felt unnatural, sending shivers of wrongness through your spine. Eris was warm, always radiating warmness to whoever was around him. He could never be cold. You would forbid it.

"I have every reason to believe he is." Azriel's voice woke you from your throughts.

You rose your eyes from the fire to him, and found two hazel pounds already looking at you. Studying you. "How? You said yourself that your shadows can't get inside the castle."

Azriel's stoned face stayed silent for a while, as if he was reading right through you. What was the spymater seeing was above your knowledge. For a moment you felt like an opponent that he was studying to understand her secrets, but true was that you hold any, even thought Azriel's gaze suggested otherwise.

"If Eris was dead, I have the rights to believe that everything would be different." You furrowed your eyebrows, not following his paths of thoughts. "This conversation would have never existed in the first place."

You braced your arms around your legs as your fingers played with the fire in front of you as you used to do when you couldn't sleep when you were a child. "Let's hope you're right."

I'll find you Eris, you are not alone.

***

Four days.

Four fucking days and still nothing of Eris.

"Four fucking days." Cassian hissed from where the three of you monitored the castle, echoing your thoughts. "We've been sititing on our asses for four fucking days."

"It's seems you've forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment." Azriel said as his blade met yours. He had decided to keep training you during those days, both to occupy time and to make you ready for a fight situation. "This one was sloppy. Ground your feet better on the ground. People don't engage in their evil deeds when it's convenient to you."

Fighting looked like a second nature to Azriel as he changed conversation between you and Cassian as if you were trying to disarm him at every possible occasion.

"You would think that Beron would be worried after his son hasn't returned for days." You said between your breaths as Azriel changed from a defensive position to an offensive one. "instead here we are, only three of us looking for him."

"Beron likely knows what is happening to Eris." snorted Cassian crrosing his arms. "He might even see a lot of opportunities to have his heir under the command of the Crown."

Anger rose inside you before you could even notice it. Was there anyone in this world who cared for Eris? His mother probably, but she had been under Beron's talons too long to even do something in order to protect him.

He has you now, your mind said on its own.

Silently you accepted what had long grew inside you. If Eris had no one who cared about him, then you must be dead, five feet under ground. Caring for him didn't mean trusting him blindly. Didn't mean that you would give him the moon on a string if he asked you to. It meant that if a bitch of a Queen took him then you would rip the whole Phrytian apart to find him.

"Control your anger." Azriel commaned as you noticed that your strikes had become harder. "Let it control you and you are dead on a battlefield."

Before you could answer Cassian shot to his feet. "Someone's leaving the castle."

Azriel didn't wait any second before grabbing your waist and launching into the skies as Cassian followed you. Your arms locked behind Azriel's neck as your eyes skanned the ground from the cover of clouds that now hid you.

"I don't see a prison wagon." Cassian said over the wind as you watched the small caravan leaving the eastern city gates.

You were gratefult for a moment that your power made impossible for you to feel any kind of cold, or the chill air would have you trembling like a leaf.

Azriel's gaze remained on the earth below. "They don't need one." he said with quiet venom.

Something inside you stirred, like a string attached to your ribs, and you new who you would see before your eyes landed on him. You suddenly hold your breath, and there, riding at the front of the party, side by side with a hunched, small figure, was Eris.

You almost jumped from Azriel as soon as you saw him. You needed to know if he was alright, you needed him to know that you were there, for him.

"Stupid asshole." Cassian snarled. "She snared him with the Crown."

"No," Azriel said quietly, and you swore his hold grew a bit tighter around you and his tone become apologetically. "Look at his left. He's still got the dagger at his side. If he was in her thrall, he'd have already handed it over."

No.

No. No. No.

"So possessing another Made object does protect him against the Crown." Cassian accusation set in the air and your ears started to ring. "Traitor."

No.

You refused to believe it was true.

Eris would have never betrayed you. Any of you. Not when Briallyn was everything he stad against to. Not when allying to Briallyn meant leaving his father on the throne of the Autumn Court.

"There must be another explanation." You said, and hated how your voice sounded weak. "He must be playing along. Making her believe he is under the Crown's control."

"We follow them. Capture Eris now and we might not get anything out of him. We trail them and learn how far this betrayal goes, if there is any." You had the feeling that he added the last part just for you. "See who they're meeting with. It has to be important, for them to leave the safety of the castle."

What if Briallyn had promised Eris to overthrow his father? What if he had found another, more convenient, alliance in her? What if everyone had been right, and he had just been manipulating you?

As you followed the caravan for three days those thoughts eat you alive. Sometime you were sure that they were wrong, and Briallyn was indeed controlling Eris. Other times you wanted to bury yourself alive to have thought that you could have trusted him.

There was a flicker inside you that you couldn't understand what was, but sometime a voice would come out of it, telling you to run. The voice was so similar to Eris' that you thought you were really going crazy if you had started to hear his voice in your head.

But the worse part was when you were sleeping, because you would dream of him, glassy eyed, looking straight in front of him not matter how many times you yelled his name.

You could not see a inch from your nose. It seemed like you were in the middle of a cloud, making everything around you blurr and grey. Your thoughts were slow, your breathing hard, and walking felt like trying to go through a block of jelly.

"Run."

A voice echoed around you, but you could not see where the person was.

"Run away as fast as you can."

Eris.

Eris was somewhere close to you. "Where are you?" you asked back, trying to follow whatever the string inside you was.

"She will kill you." he said, and this time a flicker of red hair appeared among the clouds. "If you are lucky, she'll only kill you. If not, she'll make me handle you over my father, and he'll make me watch."

His voice sounded hollow, as if he had repeated those words so many times that they had lost meaning. You had no idea what nonsense he was talking about, but you'll be damned if you wouldn't reach him this time.

As you were close enough you saw him. His eyes were vacant, looking at something in front of him. His posture straight, like a soldier waiting for orders.

A sigh of relief washed over you.

Eris was there. You had found him, and you had no intention to let him be taken away from you again.

With your right hand you grabbed his, while you brought the left one on his cheek and make his gaze fell on you. "Look at me." You said firmly. "I'm here. Look at me, Eris. Tell me you recognize me."

His amber eyes met yours, and you knew that the world might start to end now, but you would never look away from his eyes if it meant freeing him from the Crown's control.

"Go back to Velaris." he sounded almost pleading, but his eyes stayed vacant, as if he was seeing right through you.

Your hold on his hand and cheek thightened. "Only if you come with us."

You would not leave him. You could not leave him. His mind was being controlled, he was under the control of a Made object and it was a good damn think that the Cauldron had Made you too. Had given you Made powers.

You could beat the fog around him, even if momentarily.

You closed your eyes and concentrated on the burning flames inside you. You called to them, urging them to grow and grow until there were enough for you to pull them out.

Your eyes flushed open as a bubble of fire had created around the two of you, keeping the fog outside while around you the forest come into view.

"I hope your mind is a bit clearer now." You smirked slightly as you saw him blinking quickly, waking up from whatever dreaming state Briallyn had put him through.

"You're here." his tone was surprised as his eyebrow furrowed, trying to understand what was happening. His hands quickly grabbed your waist, as if he didn't believe that yes, you were actually in front of him.

Should you ignore the butterflies that appeared in your stomach as his hands grabbed you? Definetly yes.

"For someone who lived five hundred years you get surprised too often." You commented with an amused smirk.

He matched your amused grin for a moment, then his face darkened. "This is a dream."

You watched him confused. "Is it?"

"The mat-" he stopped mid sentence as his eyes buried holes in yours. "The bond created by the bargain is making this possible." he said slowly, as if his throat had suddenly gone dry. "But it doesn't matter. I cannot fight her, Y/n. You have to go away before she find you. She knows you're here."

"We are not leaving without you." you stated firmly, almost offended that he suggested otherwise. "Can you not walk away from her so that we can take you?"

He shook his head. "I breath only because she commands so. I cannot do anything without her permission." Flickers of anger appeared inside you again. "Promise me something."

You nodded, and you ashamely knew that if he kept looking at you with that intensity you would have done anything he wanted.

"If it comes to me or you, you chose yourself, and don't make the same selfless, foolish choice that I would make."

Absolutely fucking not.

"No. I'll find a way to not let it come to that." it was your turn to shook your head. "You saved my life, remember? It is time for me to do the same."

"Yes, Little Flame, I save your life, and I'll do it again a thousands time." You were going to cry. Or kiss him. Or maybe both. "She controls minds, not emotions. So spare me the pain that your death would bring on me."

You had not time to process his words as he pushed you away from him, right outside the bubble of fire and into the fog.

A/N: Are we all seeing the parallels between the two of them? Two dreams in the same chapters, I hope you liked the idea🫶🏻 next chapter we'll get some action from our Eris and our reader! Also, YOU ARE SO MANY WTF?! When I started to write this fic it was just an idea I had in my head and that I wanted to share, and now you all want to read more?! Thank you all for reading this, let me know if you liked it and what you wish to see next🫶🏻

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world@sourapplex @ghostwritermia @asteria33 @pinklemonade34 @tell-me-a-poem @speedypersonawhispers @historygeekqueen @webvics@paliketerson @lizzytish82 @tincanhat @marrass @acourtofmoonlightandstars @yasmin-oviedo @ghostwritermia @marly500 @kabekusa @gamarancianne @butterfix @itsxchar6 @iowaladynerd @that-girl-reading @kitsunetori @rcarbo1 @username199945 @giana1508 @homeslices @yasmin-oviedo @impossibelle @

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra #burning flames #autumn court #acotar #acowar #rhysand #cassian #acomaf #azriel #night court #velaris #elain archeron #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #inner circle

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gyu-tori · 2 days ago

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The Only Gift That Matters | Y.JW

A Birthday Special

Pairing: idol!jungwonx fem!reader Genre: FLUFF!!

Summary: After his final tour performance, Jungwon expects a simple celebration—until he walks in and finds you waiting for him. With the help of his meddling members, you’ve flown across the world to surprise him on his birthday, turning an ordinary night into one he’ll never forget.

Word Count: 6.4k

The deafening cheers of thousands of ENGENEs still echoed in Jungwon’s ears as he walked offstage, his heart hammering in his chest. The adrenaline of performing had yet to fully subside, leaving his body buzzing with energy despite the exhaustion creeping into his limbs. Sweat clung to his skin, the fabric of his stage outfit slightly damp from the hours of dancing and singing under the bright, flashing lights.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, exhaling deeply as he stepped into the backstage area, the distant sound of fans still chanting his name beyond the arena walls. The final show of the tour was over. Just like that.

Jungwon felt a strange mix of pride and relief settle in his chest. The months of rehearsals, traveling, and performing in different cities had been exhausting, but it was all worth it for the moments he got to share with the fans. Now, as the weight of the past few weeks settled on him, he realized just how drained he was.

The other members were already backstage, toweling off sweat and chugging water bottles as staff buzzed around them, congratulating them on another successful concert.

“Damn, that was crazy,” Jay muttered, shaking out his arms as he collapsed onto one of the couches. “The energy tonight was insane.”

Sunghoon nodded, still catching his breath. “I swear, they were even louder than last night.”

“Louder than every other stop, honestly,” Sunoo chimed in, giggling as he wiped his face with a towel. “My ears are still ringing.”

Jungwon smiled at their words, a sense of warmth spreading through him. He loved that no matter how exhausting things got, they could all share these moments together.

“You good, Won?” Heeseung’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention.

Jungwon blinked, realizing he had been standing still for a moment too long. “Yeah,” he nodded, offering a tired smile. “Just taking it all in.”

Ni-ki slung an arm over his shoulders with a grin. “You should. It’s your birthday, Hyung!”

Jungwon chuckled at the nickname. It had started as a joke because of his leader status, but over time, it had stuck. He shook his head playfully. “It’s just another day.”

The members collectively groaned.

“Bro, don’t say that,” Jake protested, nudging him. “It’s your birthday, AND you just finished performing for engenes. We have to celebrate.”

Jungwon laughed, shaking his head again, though he appreciated their enthusiasm. “We’ll see.”

Unknown to him, his members were all exchanging knowing glances. They were doing their best to act casual, but Jungwon was too exhausted to notice the small smirks, the barely concealed excitement in their eyes.

Something was definitely up. But for now, Jungwon was just grateful for a moment to breathe.

Earlier that day, long before Jungwon stepped off the concert stage drenched in sweat and glowing with the high of performing, you had landed in the city, excitement and nerves warring inside your chest.

You had spent weeks planning this trip, coordinating your schedule around his tour, booking flights, and making sure everything was set up perfectly. The hardest part, though, had been keeping it a secret.

Jungwon wasn’t the type to ask too many questions, but he always had a way of sensing when something was up. That’s what made this surprise so difficult to pull off—because if anyone knew you well enough to figure out when you were hiding something, it was him.

Luckily, you had an accomplice.

“Flight’s on time. You should be landing in the afternoon,” Heeseung had texted you the night before. “I’ll make sure Jungwon’s distracted.”

You had smiled at the message, grateful beyond words. Heeseung had been your lifeline in pulling this off.

And now, after hours of flying and navigating through airport crowds, you were finally here, standing in a quiet hallway backstage, hidden from view as the concert continued just beyond the walls.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, fingers tightening around the handle of your small carry-on bag. Even though you had traveled all this way, the nerves had only grown stronger.

What if he was too tired to enjoy the surprise? What if he was overwhelmed? What if—

“Stop overthinking,” Heeseung’s voice cut through your thoughts, his usual teasing lilt present as he approached you from around the corner.

You let out a breath, forcing a small laugh. “I can’t help it.”

He smirked. “You think Jungwon’s not gonna be the happiest man alive when he sees you? Please.”

The words made your heart warm, but the nerves remained. “I just want it to be perfect.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully, then reached for your bag. “Come on, let’s get you set up before he gets suspicious.”

You let him take it, following him as he led you through the backstage area with practiced ease. The energy in the venue was electric—staff members moving in and out of rooms, the faint sound of Jungwon’s voice echoing from the stage as he spoke to the fans.

The reality of just how close you were to him hit you hard.

A whole month had passed since you last saw Jungwon in person. Video calls and texts only did so much when all you really wanted was to be by his side, to feel the warmth of his presence, to hear his laughter without a screen separating you.

And now, in just a short while, he would be standing in front of you again.

Heeseung must have sensed your growing emotions because he nudged you lightly. “Hey, don’t cry yet. You still gotta make it through the surprise.”

You let out a watery chuckle, wiping at your eyes. “I’m not crying.”

“Not yet,” he corrected, grinning.

You shook your head at him, but you were grateful for his humor—it made everything feel a little easier.

Heeseung led you to one of the smaller backstage rooms, where a few staff members were already setting up the decorations. The other members had given their input earlier, making sure everything was just right.

A string of warm fairy lights hung around the room, casting a cozy glow. A table had been set up with a beautifully decorated cake, simple but elegant, with “Happy Birthday, Leader Won!” written in icing.

A large banner stretched across one wall, displaying the same message in bold, playful letters.

The sight made your heart swell. Jungwon wasn’t the type to demand grand celebrations, but that was exactly why you wanted to make sure he had one. He deserved to be showered with love, to be reminded of how much he meant to everyone around him.

“You guys really went all out,” you murmured, taking it all in.

Heeseung shrugged. “Of course. We have to make sure our leader feels special.”

You smiled, running your fingers lightly over the edge of the table. “He’s going to love this.”

Heeseung clapped his hands together. “Okay, so here’s the plan. Jungwon’s still out there, finishing up the concert. Once he comes backstage, he’ll head to the dressing room to cool down, right?”

You nodded, already knowing his post-concert routine.

Heeseung continued. “While he’s in there, we’ll gather everyone here, and when he walks in, we’ll hit him with the surprise. You’ll be hiding behind the curtain until I give you the signal.”

Your stomach flipped. “Got it.”

He gave you a once-over, then smirked. “You look nervous.”

“I am nervous,” you admitted with a small laugh.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, the moment he sees you, he won’t care about anything else.”

You swallowed past the lump in your throat, nodding. “I hope so.”

Heeseung grinned. “Oh, and by the way—you owe me for this. Big time.”

You laughed. “I’ll buy you dinner, okay?”

“Dinner and bubble tea.”

“Fine.”

Heeseung looked satisfied with that, then glanced at the clock. “Alright, we have about fifteen minutes before he comes offstage. You ready?”

You took a deep breath, placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity.

You stood behind the thick black curtain in the small backstage lounge, nerves bubbling under your skin as the final notes of the encore song faded. The sound of thousands of ENGENEs screaming filled the venue, their voices blending into a beautiful, deafening chorus.

Jungwon was still out there, soaking in the last moments of the tour with his members, saying his final thank-yous to the fans. He was probably bowing now, flashing that tired but grateful smile that you had seen so many times in videos and pictures. Only this time, you weren’t watching from a screen. You were here.

Heeseung had disappeared momentarily to check on the progress, leaving you alone in your hiding spot. Your hands trembled slightly as you smoothed down your outfit, making sure everything was perfect.

The thought of seeing Jungwon after a whole month had your heart racing. Would he cry? Would he be too overwhelmed? You knew how much he tried to hold back his emotions sometimes, especially when it came to himself. He always put others first, always prioritized his members, his fans, his work.

But tonight, tonight was about him.

A soft rustling sound snapped you out of your thoughts, and then Heeseung’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Showtime.”

You swallowed hard. “He’s coming?”

“Yup. He’s in the dressing room now, freshening up. We have about five minutes before he walks in.”

You nodded, inhaling deeply to steady yourself. “Okay.”

The room outside was already set. The other members had gathered, all of them doing their best to act casual, but you could hear the suppressed excitement in their voices.

“Don’t act weird, guys,” Jake whispered. “He’ll know something’s up.”

“Dude, just stand normal,” Sunghoon replied.

“What does ‘stand normal’ even mean?” Jay shot back.

A soft whack sound followed. “Ow, Sunoo!”

“Shut up and just smile,” Sunoo hissed.

You pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. It was almost funny how much effort they were putting into this. Jungwon would probably be too exhausted to even notice at first, but knowing how sharp he was, you wouldn’t be surprised if he picked up on their energy.

Still, the setup was perfect.

The fairy lights gave the room a warm, inviting glow, casting soft shadows on the walls. The cake sat neatly on the table, an elegant white-frosted design with subtle gold accents. The words Happy Birthday, Captain! were written in neat cursive, surrounded by tiny edible stars. The members had insisted on keeping the decorations simple—nothing too over-the-top, but still meaningful.

And then there was the banner.

A large, hand-painted sign stretched across the back wall, filled with personal messages from the members. Little doodles of Jungwon’s favorite things were scattered across it—his favorite snacks, his beloved cat-shaped drawings, even a small, cartoon version of himself.

It was the kind of effort that showed just how much they loved him.

You smiled to yourself, already imagining the look on his face.

A sudden shuffle of footsteps in the hallway made your breath hitch.

“Oh, oh, he’s coming—”

“Positions, everyone!”

You quickly pressed yourself further into the corner, holding your breath. The curtain concealed you entirely, and from this angle, you had a perfect view of the entrance.

The door handle turned.

For a moment, silence filled the room, thick with anticipation. Then, the door swung open and the room fell into an instant hush.

Jungwon stepped inside, still towel-drying his damp hair, his oversized black t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame. His post-performance glow was evident—cheeks flushed, eyes slightly dazed from the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

He blinked at the sight before him.

The members stood scattered around the room, trying way too hard to act normal. Jay was casually leaning against a table—except his elbow slipped, nearly knocking over a bottle of water. Sunghoon looked suspiciously stiff, like he had rehearsed his “natural” stance too many times. Ni-ki was covering his mouth, eyes already sparkling with suppressed laughter.

Jungwon frowned slightly. Something is up.

Then, his gaze landed on the fairy lights, the cake, and finally, the massive Happy Birthday, Leader Won! banner staring back at him.

Before he could process it, the members erupted into cheers.

“Surprise!”

Jungwon flinched at the sudden noise, nearly dropping his towel. “What the—” He looked around, squinting. “What’s going on?”

“You really thought we wouldn’t do anything for your birthday?” Jake smirked, stepping forward to throw an arm around Jungwon’s shoulders.

Jungwon scoffed. “I knew you guys were being weird today.”

“Define weird,” Sunghoon said innocently, shifting slightly to block the suitcase near the couch.

Jungwon narrowed his eyes. “You were all too normal.”

“Bro, we’re always normal,” Jay deadpanned.

“I stand by it.”

The members cackled.

Heeseung, who had been standing off to the side with his arms crossed, finally spoke up. “Actually…” He smirked. “We have one more present for you.”

Jungwon groaned dramatically, rubbing his face. “Please tell me it’s not another embarrassing video montage—”

“Oh, it’s better.”

Before Jungwon could question it, Heeseung gave a small nod toward the curtain.

That was your cue.

You stepped out, heart hammering against your ribs as you finally locked eyes with Jungwon.

For a moment, time seemed to stop.

Jungwon’s entire body went rigid. His mouth parted slightly. His hands, which had been resting at his sides, twitched like his brain was struggling to send a signal. His chest rose and fell with an unsteady breath.

The members were watching eagerly, as if they were witnessing a dramatic K-drama finale.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, Jungwon finally found his voice.

“…Wait.”

His voice cracked slightly.

Ni-ki snorted.

Jungwon’s gaze darted from your face to the suitcase near the couch, then back to you. His lips parted again, but all that came out was:

“HUH?”

The room erupted.

Sunoo doubled over, clutching his stomach. Jake fell onto the couch, wheezing. Ni-ki looked like he was about to pass out from laughing.

Jungwon, however, remained frozen.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you stepped closer. “Surprise.”

That was all it took.

Jungwon suddenly lunged.

He reached you in seconds, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that your feet nearly left the ground. A startled laugh escaped you as you stumbled backward slightly, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

“You—You’re really here?” His voice was muffled against your shoulder, trembling slightly.

You nodded against him, your heart swelling. “I’m here.”

Jungwon pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes wide and glassy. “You… You really flew all this way? Just for me?”

You smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything.”

Jungwon exhaled sharply, like he was still trying to process it. Behind him, the members were still enjoying the show.

Jake wiped away fake tears. “This is beautiful.”

“He’s in shock,” Sunghoon whispered.

“No thoughts. Head empty,” Ni-ki added.

Jungwon ignored them, his hands still gripping your arms as if grounding himself.

“You okay?” you asked, pressing a hand to his cheek.

He blinked slowly. “No. I think I’m malfunctioning.”

The members lost it again.

Sunoo wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “We’ve lost our leader, everyone.”

Heeseung clapped Jungwon’s back. “A thank you would be nice.”

Jungwon finally tore his gaze away from you to glare at him. “Shut up.”

You giggled, reaching up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Jungwon let out a small, breathless laugh, finally pulling you into another tight hug. “This is the best birthday ever.”

The members groaned loudly.

“Oh my god, he’s so whipped,” Jay muttered.

“Just now realizing that?” Sunghoon scoffed.

You laughed against Jungwon’s shoulder, feeling his grip tighten just a little more.

And in that moment, you knew—no matter how much they teased him, no matter how chaotic things got—this was exactly where you were meant to be.

—

Jungwon still hadn’t let go of you.

It had been a full minute since the initial shock wore off, but he kept his arms locked around you, his head resting against your shoulder like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“Okay, we get it, you missed her,” Jay teased, breaking the silence.

Jungwon finally pulled back—just enough to turn and glare at him. “Shut up, Jay.”

Jay smirked. “You’re not even denying it.”

“Because it’s true,” Heeseung added with a knowing grin.

Jungwon sighed, shaking his head before turning back to you. His hands stayed on your arms, his touch warm and grounding. “How long are you staying?”

You smiled. “A few days.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed. “Good.” Then, quieter, just for you, he murmured, “I don’t want you to leave too soon.��

Your heart melted.

Before you could respond, Ni-ki clapped his hands together. “Alright, lovebirds, we do have a cake waiting.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically but finally—reluctantly—let you go. You laughed at the way he immediately reached for your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours as he turned to face the rest of the group.

Jake grinned. “Alright, birthday boy, make a wish.”

Sunghoon nudged him. “You don’t need to. Your biggest wish literally just walked in.”

The members groaned at the cheesiness, but Jungwon?

He just smiled.

You swore his grip on your hand tightened slightly.

With a soft chuckle, he stepped forward to the table, staring at the cake. The warm fairy lights made the white frosting glow softly, and the words Happy Birthday, Captain! stood out in elegant cursive.

Jungwon exhaled deeply. “This is really nice, guys.”

Sunoo beamed. “Of course. You deserve it.”

Jungwon gave him a small, grateful smile before closing his eyes for a moment. Then, with a deep breath, he blew out the candles.

The room erupted into cheers.

“Yay, our leader is another year older!” Ni-ki teased.

“Another year shorter,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath.

Jungwon turned to glare at him. “I heard that.”

Sunghoon just smirked. “Oops.”

Jake started cutting the cake while Jay grabbed plates. You watched as Jungwon let himself fully relax, laughing as his members playfully fought over who got the biggest slice.

Sunoo dramatically gasped. “Ni-ki, put that piece back, you gremlin!”

Ni-ki, holding an unfairly large slice, grinned. “Finders keepers.”

Sunghoon looked horrified. “That’s a quarter of the cake, you menace.”

Jungwon just laughed, shaking his head. “It’s fine, just take another slice.”

“You’re too nice,” you teased, nudging him. “If that were me, I would’ve smacked it out of his hands.”

Jungwon turned to you with a grin. “Noted for future cake disputes.”

Heeseung passed you both plates, and as Jungwon took his first bite, a soft sigh of satisfaction left his lips. “Wow.” He looked up at the members. “This is really good.”

“Sunoo picked it,” Jay said, nodding.

Sunoo flipped his hair dramatically. “I do have excellent taste.”

Jungwon chuckled, turning back to you. “You should try it.”

He picked up a small forkful and, without thinking, held it up to your lips.

The entire room fell into scandalized silence.

Jake gasped. “Oh my god.”

Sunghoon looked personally attacked. “In front of my salad?”

Ni-ki fake gagged. “Not at the dinner table, guys.”

Jungwon froze.

His ears turned bright red.

You, however, decided to play along. Maintaining eye contact, you leaned in, taking the bite off his fork.

Jungwon’s jaw visibly clenched. His eyes darted to the members, all of whom were staring.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Wow. You didn’t even hesitate.”

Jungwon cleared his throat. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Ni-ki smirked. “Oh, it’s too late for that.”

Sunoo placed a hand over his heart. “I never thought I’d see the day our little leader would be out here doing—” He waved a hand dramatically. “—something so scandalous in front of us.”

Sunghoon sighed. “They grow up so fast.”

Jungwon groaned, covering his face with one hand. “I hate all of you.”

You giggled, leaning closer. “But you love me, right?”

Jungwon sighed dramatically before dropping his hand and looking at you. A soft smile played on his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah. I do.”

The members groaned in unison.

“Oh my god,” Jay muttered, stuffing cake into his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Ni-ki fake sniffled. “Our fearless leader has fallen.”

Jungwon just rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. He squeezed your hand gently before turning back to his cake.

The celebration had finally started winding down.

The cake had been demolished (mostly by Ni-ki, who had somehow managed to sneak extra slices despite Sunoo’s watchful gaze). The members were still playfully bickering about who gave Jungwon the best present, and the room was filled with warmth and laughter.

But even with all the noise, Jungwon hadn’t let go of your hand.

Every few minutes, you’d feel his thumb brush over your skin absentmindedly, as if making sure you were still there. If he wasn’t holding your hand, his knee was pressed against yours, his body always leaning just slightly in your direction.

You didn’t mind one bit.

Eventually, the members started cleaning up, throwing away plates and clearing the table. Jungwon had been watching them work for a grand total of two minutes before Heeseung pointed at him.

“Not so fast, birthday boy. You’re helping.”

Jungwon groaned, leaning against you dramatically. “It’s my birthday. Shouldn’t I be exempt from this?”

“Yeah, no,” Jay deadpanned, tossing him an empty cup. “If we suffer, you suffer.”

Jungwon sighed but stood up, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll be back soon,” he murmured.

You smiled. “I’ll be right here.”

As he walked off to help, you watched him fondly. Even exhausted, he still tried to pull his weight, stacking plates and picking up napkins.

It wasn’t long before Heeseung shot you a knowing look from across the room. “You should steal him away for a bit.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He waved a hand. “Yeah, yeah. We got this. Go be disgusting somewhere else.”

You snorted, shaking your head before making your way toward Jungwon. He had just finished setting a stack of plates on the counter when you slipped your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head against his back.

He stiffened for a split second before instantly relaxing, his hands moving to rest over yours.

“Come with me,” you murmured.

Jungwon turned his head slightly, curiosity in his eyes. “Where?”

You just smiled. “You’ll see.”

The members noticed, of course.

“Aww, look at them,” Ni-ki cooed.

Jake sighed dramatically. “I wish someone would whisk me away like that.”

Sunghoon smirked. “We could, but you’d just come back in five minutes crying about how much you miss us.”

Jake gasped. “That happened one time.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes but tugged you toward the hallway before they could tease either of you further.

The two of you ended up in a quieter part of the backstage area, away from the noise. The air felt different here—quieter, softer, more intimate.

Jungwon sighed as he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “Finally. A moment of peace.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “Tired?”

He tilted his head in thought before shaking it. “Not anymore.”

His eyes softened as he reached for your hand again. “I still can’t believe you’re here.”

You squeezed his fingers gently. “I wanted to be.”

Jungwon studied you for a long moment, then—slowly—he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture was so sweet, so tender, that your breath hitched.

His gaze flickered up, watching your reaction. When he saw your expression, he grinned. “What? I’m not allowed to be romantic?”

You laughed softly. “You are romantic. Just usually in a really awkward, flustered way.”

Jungwon groaned. “You just had to ruin my smooth moment, huh?”

You giggled, reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from his forehead. “Sorry, sorry. You were very smooth. Super charming.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, leaning into your touch. “Better.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the silence. It felt surreal—to be here with him after so long, with no screen between you, no time zone difference, no calls cutting in and out. Just him.

Jungwon sighed contently. “This is the best birthday ever.”

You tilted your head. “Because of the concert?”

He shook his head immediately. “No.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Because you’re here.”

Your heart swelled.

“You’re really sappy today,” you teased, though your voice was soft.

Jungwon chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Take it while you can.”

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Happy birthday, love.”

Jungwon’s eyes softened as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you for making it perfect.”

And for the first time that night, no one interrupted.

After a long night of performing, celebrating, and being relentlessly teased by his members, Jungwon was finally free.

The two of you had slipped out of the venue while the others were still cleaning up, leaving behind the chaos and noise for the quiet comfort of the van. The moment you slid into the backseat, Jungwon immediately followed, settling in beside you.

The city lights flickered outside as the car pulled onto the road, the soft hum of the engine filling the space. The energy from the concert still lingered in the air, but exhaustion was creeping in, making everything feel a little hazy.

Jungwon let out a deep sigh, leaning back against the seat. “I can finally breathe.”

You giggled. “Are you saying your own birthday party was suffocating?”

He turned his head toward you, eyes heavy with fatigue but filled with warmth. “Not the party. Just them.”

From the front seat, Heeseung—who had offered to ride with you two—cleared his throat. “I can hear you, by the way.”

Jungwon groaned, closing his eyes. “I know. That’s why I said it.”

Heeseung let out an exaggerated sigh. “This is how you treat your beloved hyung? After I singlehandedly orchestrated your entire surprise?”

You grinned. “To be fair, he does have a point, Won.”

Jungwon opened one eye, narrowing it at you. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

You shrugged. “He’s my partner-in-crime. I have to give him some credit.”

Heeseung smirked. “Exactly. Someone appreciates my hard work.”

Jungwon let out a dramatic sigh before turning back to you. “Fine. Thank you, Heeseung-hyung. You’re the best hyung in the world. I’m eternally grateful.”

His tone was so robotic that Heeseung actually gagged. “Okay, never mind. I take back everything. You’re ungrateful.”

You burst into laughter as Jungwon smirked in victory.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, the van rocking gently as it cruised through the city. You glanced at Jungwon, noticing how his body had started to relax completely, his head resting against the seat. His eyes blinked slower, his grip on your hand loosening just slightly.

“You’re exhausted,” you murmured.

Jungwon hummed sleepily. “Mhm.”

You ran your fingers gently through his damp hair, feeling him melt into your touch. “You should sleep.”

“Not yet,” he mumbled, blinking up at you with a lazy smile. “Wanna spend every second with you tonight.”

Your heart clenched at the softness in his voice.

“Jungwon,” you whispered, brushing a thumb over his cheek.

He hummed again, eyes half-lidded.

“You’ll still have me tomorrow,” you promised. “And the day after that.”

His lips curled into a small smile. “Good.”

Heeseung, who had been minding his business, suddenly spoke. “I am still here, by the way.”

Jungwon groaned. “Hyung, please.”

Heeseung snorted. “Nah, it’s fine. I love being a third wheel. Really. It’s my favorite thing.”

You giggled as Jungwon shot him a glare, but the moment was short-lived—because not even Heeseung’s teasing could stop Jungwon’s body from shutting down.

Within minutes, his head slowly tilted to the side, resting against your shoulder.

You glanced down, only to find him fully asleep, his breathing deep and steady.

Your heart softened.

Carefully, you adjusted yourself so he could be more comfortable, wrapping an arm around him. He instinctively nuzzled closer, his fingers loosely curling around the fabric of your sleeve.

Heeseung peeked at the rearview mirror and smirked. “Wow. Out cold.”

You smiled, running your fingers through Jungwon’s hair again. “He worked hard today.”

Heeseung nodded. “Yeah… but also, he’s just really whipped.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know.”

The car continued rolling through the city, the lights casting soft glows across Jungwon’s peaceful face.

And in that moment, you realized something.

For all the teasing, for all the chaos, for all the exhaustion—this was perfect.

Jungwon had his fans. His members. His music.

And now, he had you, too.

And that was all that mattered.

By the time the van pulled up to the hotel entrance, Jungwon was completely out.

His head was still resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your collarbone, his body pressed comfortably against yours. Every few minutes, his fingers would twitch slightly—like he was still subconsciously holding onto you even in sleep.

You smiled softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Won, we’re here.”

Nothing.

Heeseung leaned over from the front seat, peering at Jungwon’s sleeping form. He raised an eyebrow. “Is he even breathing?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Heeseung. He’s just exhausted.”

“Hmm.” Heeseung poked Jungwon’s arm. “Hey, birthday boy. Wake up.”

Jungwon didn’t even stir.

You giggled. “Heeseung, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

“Watch and learn.” Heeseung cleared his throat and said, in a serious voice, “Jungwon-ah, staff said we need to redo the encore performance. Get up.”

Jungwon immediately twitched.

You and Heeseung watched in real-time as his eyes fluttered open, his body tensing slightly—until he finally registered his surroundings.

Then, he groaned and buried his face back into your shoulder. “Hyung, I hate you.”

Heeseung burst out laughing. “Hey, at least now you’re awake.”

Jungwon muttered something under his breath that was definitely not PG-rated, but it only made Heeseung laugh harder.

You giggled, rubbing Jungwon’s back soothingly. “Come on, love. Let’s get you inside.”

With a dramatic sigh, Jungwon finally sat up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily. His hair was slightly messy from sleeping on you, and his voice was adorably raspy when he mumbled, “Carry me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung snorted. “Yeah, no. You’re on your own, dude.”

Jungwon pouted but ultimately sighed in defeat, dragging himself out of the van. The moment you both stepped into the hotel lobby, the warm air hit your skin, the dim lighting making everything feel cozier.

The staff greeted Jungwon quietly, congratulating him on his performance before directing you both to his room. Heeseung, finally finished with his babysitting duties, stretched his arms. “Alright, lovebirds, I’m out. Try not to be too disgusting.”

Jungwon yawned, waving him off. “Goodnight, hyung.”

You grinned. “Thanks for everything, Heeseung.”

Heeseung winked before disappearing down the hall, leaving you and Jungwon standing outside his hotel room.

Jungwon sighed, fumbling with the key card. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the bed.”

You smirked. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but I also don’t want to waste time with you,” he murmured, finally pushing the door open.

Your heart softened at his words.

The hotel room was spacious, modern, and filled with warm lighting. A massive king-sized bed took up most of the space, the blankets neatly arranged. Jungwon immediately kicked off his shoes, stretching his arms with a groan before flopping onto the bed face-first.

You laughed. “That tired, huh?”

His voice was muffled against the pillow. “I can’t move.”

You shook your head fondly, setting your bag down before sitting beside him on the mattress. “Want me to get you some water?”

He turned his head slightly, cracking one eye open. “Just lay with me.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. “Bossy.”

Still, you didn’t argue. You kicked off your shoes, shifting onto the bed beside him. The moment you did, Jungwon instinctively rolled over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

His warmth, his scent, the steady rise and fall of his chest—it was all so him.

Your fingers gently played with the strands of his hair. “You did amazing today.”

Jungwon hummed sleepily. “Mmm.”

“I mean it,” you whispered. “I watched the whole performance. You were incredible.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, his voice quieter now. “It’s always easier when I know you’re watching.”

Your heart clenched at his words.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, watching as his lips curled into a tiny, sleepy smile.

“Happy birthday, love,” you murmured.

Jungwon let out a deep breath, his body completely relaxing against yours.

And just like that, he fell asleep in your arms.

Jungwon slept soundly for a while, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion. His arms remained wrapped around you, his breathing slow and steady, his face completely at peace.

You didn’t mind one bit.

You stayed there with him, running your fingers through his hair, tracing soft patterns on his back. He looked so soft like this—so young, so free from the pressures of being a leader, a performer, an idol. Right now, he was just Jungwon. Your Jungwon.

Eventually, he stirred, letting out a soft hum as his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, dazed and sleepy, before a slow, lazy smile spread across his lips.

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice raspy.

You smiled back. “Hey, birthday boy.”

He groaned, burying his face into your neck. “I’m still not used to hearing that.”

You giggled, rubbing his back. “Well, get used to it. I’m not done celebrating you yet.”

Jungwon lifted his head slightly, curiosity flickering in his half-lidded eyes. “What do you mean?”

You reached over to your bag, grabbing the small, neatly wrapped box you had been waiting to give him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You handed it to him, watching as he carefully unwrapped it, his fingers gentle as ever. When he finally opened the box, his breath hitched.

Inside was a simple silver bracelet, sleek and minimalistic—just his style. But what made it special was the small engraving on the inside.

My home, my heart—always yours.

Jungwon stared at it for a long moment, his fingers tracing over the words. His lips parted slightly, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You bit your lip. “Do you like it?”

Silence.

Then, Jungwon inhaled sharply, closing the box with a snap before you could see his face.

“Jungwon?”

Still no response.

Then, to your absolute horror, he turned away from you, shoulders hunched, hands covering his face.

Oh god.

He was crying.

Your heart stopped. “Wait—love, are you okay?”

A muffled, strangled sound came from behind his hands.

Oh no. Oh no, you broke him.

You sat up quickly, placing a hand on his back. “Jungwon, I—”

“Give me a second,” he croaked.

You blinked. “What?”

“I just—” He sucked in a breath, shoulders shaking slightly. “I need a second.”

You pursed your lips, biting back a smile. “Are you crying right now?”

“No.” His voice cracked.

You giggled, rubbing circles on his back. “You are crying.”

Jungwon finally turned to you, eyes red and glassy, cheeks flushed. “I am not crying.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek.

You stared.

He stared back.

“…Shut up,” he muttered.

You burst out laughing, and that was officially the last straw for Jungwon. With a groan, he flopped back onto the bed, throwing a pillow over his face.

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “I hate you.”

You were still giggling as you pried the pillow away. “You love me.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically, but his lips curled into a soft smile. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

Your heart swelled as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his forehead. “Then keep it on forever, okay?”

Jungwon sat up slightly, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist. He stared at it for a long moment before turning to you, his expression completely soft.

“I will.”

And somehow, you knew he meant it.

Jungwon was still staring at the bracelet on his wrist, turning it slightly under the warm hotel room lights. His fingers traced the engraving again, as if memorizing the feel of it.

You watched him with a soft smile, resting your chin on your palm. “You’re still thinking about it, huh?”

He blinked up at you, lips slightly parted before he nodded. “Yeah.”

Your fingers reached out to gently take his hand, brushing your thumb over the bracelet. “You really like it?”

Jungwon huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I love it.” Then, quieter, he murmured, “I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You knew he loved you—he had shown it in so many ways, in his small gestures, his thoughtful words, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world. But hearing him say it so plainly, so softly, with the weight of today still lingering in the air, made warmth bloom in your chest.

You leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his lips. It was slow, unhurried—like the both of you had all the time in the world. Jungwon sighed into the kiss, his fingers curling around your wrist, grounding himself in you.

When you finally pulled away, he was gazing at you with sleep-heavy eyes, his expression completely open and vulnerable.

You nudged his nose playfully. “Sleep, birthday boy.”

Jungwon groaned but obediently flopped back onto the bed, pulling you down with him. His arms wrapped around your waist, his body molding perfectly against yours.

You laughed softly. “Comfortable?”

He let out a content sigh, nuzzling into your neck. “Mhm.”

The steady sound of his breathing filled the room, and you felt his body fully relax against yours. His fingers were still loosely intertwined with yours, his grip soft but steady—like even in sleep, he didn’t want to let go.

You pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, whispering, “Sweet dreams, birthday boy.”

And just like that, Jungwon drifted off, the softest smile still lingering on his lips.

Rei's Notes ✎: I MADE IT ON TIME TO SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE YANG JUNGWON! He's been killing my heart so much recently~ He needs to give me a break or I'll start dropping on my knees for him. ALSO!! First enhypen fic so I hope you guys enjoy hehe~ This was very rushed so lmk if there are any errors or mistakes!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp @ode2soob

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may-stuff · 1 day ago

Text

a friend in need. - fc43

summary: you've been best friends for almost your entire lives. who is he to deny you some help when you need it the most?

warnings: afab!reader, masturbation, oral sex (m), dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie || typos and grammatical mistakes because english is not my first language and I'm a little stupid. also, this isn't great in any way so please don't be mean, thank u.

word count: 6.6k approx.

a/n: please please please, if you read this and you like it at least a little bit, please interact with it. If I don't get notifications I die 🥀

In the loneliness of your bedroom, you can't help but let your mind wander. Surrounded by shadows that seem to whisper his name in your ears, you get engulfed in the reminisce of him and almost every moment you've shared together.

Behind your closed eyes you can see his beautiful face, his hair that smells so good, his hands and those long fingers that have touched you in a friendly way countless times before but tonight, tonight you remember those interactions from another perspective, in a new light.

Not everything is about his physique, though. The brightness of his smile that could light up an entire room, his laugh and the sound of his voice- everything about him is perfect, even the imperfections. You also think of his moody, short answers in the morning when he's still sleepy; you think of his frown and the look in his eyes when he's angry for something or at someone, and even that seems like undeniable proof of a kind of beauty you've never seen before in anyone else.

Your feelings for him, you realise now, go beyond everything; but tonight, in the quiet of your own room and with the knowledge that you'll never be more than his dear, best friend, you decide that setting your imagination free won't hurt anybody. He doesn't have to know, you don't even have to say his name out loud.

Only in your mind. His name echoes in every part of your conscience as you imagine. You imagine him in situations that you're sure you'll never see him in. You imagine him kissing you, both softly and then roughly, as if he were trying to consume all of you. Your mind shows him on top of you, his clothes gone, his lips on your skin and your name coming out of them in a plea.

The visions in your head are so clear that soon your own hands are exploring your body. First, they travel up and down all through your abdomen, making you feel goosebumps at the thought of how good this would feel if it only were his hands on your skin. When you reach your breasts and cup them in your hands under your shirt, you can't help but to moan softly, even more when your fingers pinch your nipples that, in result, become impossibly hard in a matter of seconds. With the image of his beautiful lips wrapping around your hardened peaks, painting them with his own saliva, you feel that familiar pressure in your lower abdomen. That sensation that comes with the arousal that becomes physical and pools in the deepest parts of you, coating your underwear more and more with each second that passes and he's still in your mind, touching you, making you feel better than any man has ever done before.

In the complexity of the mind, a deep feeling of guilt presses onto your chest. You know this is wrong, you know this isn't what you should do when you think of your dearest friend, but you can't help it. You can't avoid the feelings and the images in your mind. It's like a film that won't stop playing over and over; it's a bunch of images of him on top of you, inside of you, whispering the filthiest things right in your ear. It's him telling you how divine you feel around him, how much he loves being buried deep inside of you. It's his voice moaning and grunting, face hidden in the curve between your neck and your shoulder.

It's your hands caressing his back and your nails digging into his flesh every time he moves inside you, the lewd sounds of his cock sliding into your hungry pussy filling the room and, in response, making you more needy.

In the real world, your left hand has already reached your underwear. Your fingers come in contact with the wet spot right above your slit and you moan softly to the knowledge that you've become this wet only because he is in your mind. And as the guilt hits you once again, trying to drift your mind away from the pleasure that the thought of him gives you, you decide to go against it.

He will never know about this.

That thought is decisive. Your shirt and underwear are gone in a matter of seconds, and when you feel the soft air coming in from the window and touching your skin, you shiver. You wish he would be here, his natural warmth engulfing your body and soul, making the sadness and loneliness go away. But you're alone in your empty house- and even if he were here, he wouldn't be where you want him to be.

With the crude reality put in the back of your mind, your fingers finally travel down to where you need attention the most. Feeling your own dampness, you let out a deep sigh. No one has ever made you this wet, not even yourself. All of this is thanks to him, because of him. The fire in your veins, the need to feel pleasure, the need to cum, all of this intensity is due to him and his face engraved in your mind.

That's why you can hear his voice so clearly in your head the moment one of your fingers finds its way inside of you. The familiar intrusion feels good but it's obviously not enough, so it isn't surprising that a second finger adds to the first in a matter of seconds and this time you feel fuller. You feel fuller and needier, because now you're realising that nothing will be actually enough, because what you need isn't a matter of size, it isn't a matter of how and how much; it's about him. It's all about him.

About his face and his hands and his voice. About your own fingers trying to find the right pace as you can almost feel his lips on your skin. It's about you and the need to say his name even though you know that you shouldn't, because if you do, it'll become real. The shameful thought that you want your best friend in ways that you shouldn't, will become true if you say his name out loud.

But you can't help it. Your fingers inside of you feel good enough to make you whimper and mutter words that don't make sense. They're enough to fuel the images in your mind and you can't take it anymore. So, against your will, his name leaves your lips and you feel some sort of relief with it, because now your needs have claimed his name as their own. Your lust has a name now, and you can't stop saying it.

“Franco.”

It comes out in a soft plea at first, loud enough so only you can hear it. But it doesn't take much time or effort for you to continue further, saying it louder and louder each time your fingers enter your cunt again. Soon the room is filled with your pleas and cries that almost sound like you're in pain, because in a way you are, but his name falling from your lips over and over are enough to cover them up. Or at least that's what you think.

You would have heard the front door opening and closing if you were paying more attention to your surroundings. You would have heard the voice calling your name once, twice a second later and then the steps getting closer to your room. You would have had time to cover yourself and come up with an excuse if you weren't so lost in your own mind and body. That's why the only thing that brings you back to the present, to reality, is the light that bathes your face when your bedroom's door opens.

Everything happens so fast that you're sure you won't be able to recall this memory in the near future. Or maybe you will, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life.

Once your eyes get used to the light that has suddenly corrupted the darkness in your room, your heart starts beating fast with horror.

He's standing there, at your door, and the expression on his face is quite difficult to decipher. At his complete mercy, you're fully naked, laying on your bed with your legs wide open and your hands on your cunt; one of them with fingers buried deep inside you while the other is resting a little bit higher, just above your clit. Your chest is rising up and down with the heavy breathing that the pure terror and shame have triggered. Eyes wide open, mouth agape, you're frozen in the spot, unable to say a word, unable to act.

The tension in the room is cut when he says your name, and maybe you're imagining things, but his voice sounds strangled.

Then, after some seconds, he mutters it again, your name. This time you're sure he's shocked with the scene in front of him but not entirely disgusted.

The fear and guilt that had taken over you vanish almost completely when you see the expression on his face. Your eyes have adapted to the shining light coming into the dark room, so now you can see him more clearly, and the strange glint in his eyes is enough to make you think that maybe, just maybe, something good can come out of this situation.

Franco's eyes are wide open for a few shocking seconds. Then, when his brain processes the image before him, they start roaming your body. Bright green eyes observe your chest, bare tits and hardened nipples that seem to get even harder under his gaze. The valley between your breasts is covered in sweat and, in a strange way, that makes them look even more appealing. Your stomach, then, is a zone that perhaps you feel a little concerned to show too much but his expression doesn't change at any stop his eyes make on your body. He admires every part with the same intensity, with the same look of bewilderment in that gorgeous face.

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible groan when his eyes reach your lower stomach and your legs, long and thick. His mouth agape when, in a sudden movement full of boldness, you open them a little wider and let him see more. He's standing to your right, so he can't see all of you properly, but he can see enough and, by the expression on his face, he's loving every second.

The absence of a negative reaction on his part emboldens you to act. Your hands, as if they were separated entities from the rest of your body, resume the earlier activities. Two of your fingers find your clit at the same time your left hand grabs one of your breasts. A sigh leaves your lips at the sudden contact and the fact that Franco is watching your every move makes a wave of pleasure hit you hard. You're aware that you're starting to put on a pornographic show for your best friend and, honestly, you're enjoying it maybe too much.

This is the first time you've seen him so focused on something. All those times he told you he struggled with his own attention span, you should've known that being naked in front of him, touching yourself for him, would be all he'd need to keep quiet and focused. That's why you chuckle when your eyes find him again and you see that his gaze is still fixed in your body.

The sound, a mix of a giggle and a moan, make him look at your face.

"Franco." You moan his name for the hundredth time this evening and rejoice when you actually see him shiver at the sound of your voice. "Please, please help me." You whimper, your own fingers pumping in and out of you faster each time. Harder. "I need you."

He closes his eyes for a few seconds and you know that he's fighting against something, against the fact that, if he gives in, everything will change. You will be friends no longer, because friends don't do this, friends don't want each other in such a way. But you do, and both of you know it. You both also know that, if you act on your shared desire, then when the moment is over you'll probably be in a limbo, trying to figure out what comes next.

But Franco actually doesn't care about the after, he almost never thinks too much before he acts. He lives the moment. You know that and your knowledge gets reinforced when he opens his eyes again and walks towards you, closing the door behind him. In response your heart flutters with excitement.

Your fingers leave you and go up to rest on your lower stomach when he reaches your side. He's standing at your right, and this time you realize that he's looking at you in the face, looking for your gaze. When your eyes finally meet again, you can read a question that is answered with a nod of your head.

You want this. You want this so bad.

Franco's left hand caresses your hair first. His long fingers intertwine in your locks and for a moment you close your eyes to enjoy the innocent touch that, in a different situation, would get you to sleep. But the grip becomes a bit firmer and now he's tugging on it so your head can move to the side again, that way you can meet his eyes. As his hand leaves your head and travels to your soft cheek and then your lips, you don't stop looking at each other.

A gasp leaves your throat when his thumb sits on your lower lip, and then he puts it inside your mouth, gently enough to give you time so you can reject him if you want. But you don't, you would never.

Soft lips wrap around his finger. Franco's reaction to the feeling of your tongue against the pad of his thumb in an almost imperceptible moan. The sound is low, coming out from the centre of his chest through gritted teeth, and it is the first time in the night that you feel some sort of pride fluttering inside you. The simple fact that he's reacting like this to the first physical contact with you is enough to make you act even bolder than before, and you keep sucking on his finger while looking him in the eyes.

Franco smiles almost tenderly before the tone of his voice becomes twisted.

“Who would've thought…” he mutters, still looking at you. “That you were such a desperate slut, huh?”

The sound you make in response to his words is almost inhuman. You're desperate and he can hear it in the tone of your moans, that are still muffled by his finger inside your mouth.

“All these years…” he continues, voice feeling like velvet on your heated skin. “You were always such a good girl. Always the one to behave properly, wise beyond her years, or at least that's what all of them said, your family and mine… What would they think of you, (y/n)?” Franco asks, the mocking tone coming back. You squirm on the bed as you take his finger deeper and hollow your cheeks, imagining his cock in its place.

“What would they think of you, (y/n)?” He presses on. This time, you look up at him. “If I told them about this. How I found you naked on your bed, fingers deep inside your soaked cunt while moaning my name like the fucking little whore you are. What would your family say? And mine? Should I let them know how much of a slut you're?”

You almost cry when he takes his finger off your mouth.

“Answer me.” He commands. “Should I let everyone know?”

“If it pleases you.” You answer, voice sounding a little hoarse because of the previous activity in your throat.

He smiles.

“Is that what you want? To please me?”

You nod, fully conscious that you're making yourself look desperate- and actually you are. His mere presence, the sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne and the fact that he apparently wants you as much as you want him is enough for you. You're more than ready for him, for all of him, and Franco knows it.

He knows it because it's written in you. All over the expression on your face and the way you open your legs for him when his right hand travels all the way down to your knee, and stays there, not moving back but neither further, torturing you silently.

“Please.” You whisper. “Fran, I need you.”

It's funny, though. You're the one who's ready to please but you also are the one who begs. You've been actually begging him to touch you since the moment you saw him standing at the threshold.

Franco wishes you could read his mind and know that he's waited for this moment for a long time. He's wanted you since the moment you met, all those years ago. First, it was an innocent crush, that was all a child could offer, of course. But since you both grew into yourselves and he started to discover the world and other people- Franco had been with enough people to know that none of them could compare to you, even if he hadn't laid a hand on you yet. Something about you, about your aura, about the strong pull he felt towards you every single time you were in the same room, would assure him that nothing, no one, could compare to you.

And now you're here, right in front of him, begging. The sound of your voice is almost haunting, like you're in deep pain. He could ask himself over and over again if this is the right thing to do, but in all honesty, he doesn't care about that. He only cares about you and the painful desire you make him feel even when he hasn't touched you properly yet.

Besides, if you really need him as you say, if you're in pain as you sound, who is he to deny you his help? Isn't he, after all, your best friend?

That thought is all he needs to vanish his worries to the darkest pit of his mind.

“Are you really sure about this?” His voice cuts the silence once again. The eager nod coming from you makes him smile. “I need words, love.”

“Yes.” You answer almost too fast. “Please, Fran. Please. I can't wait anymore.”

He curses under his breath because he honestly can't believe it. He's amazed by your eagerness and so fucking turned on that he feels like he's going to cum right here and now.

So, to avoid that, Franco doesn't waste any more time. Before you can blink twice, he's undoing his trousers and underwear, pulling them down as his hard cock springs out. You moan at the sight of it. Long and thick enough to make your mouth literally water, standing proud and impossibly hard against his shirt, almost staining the fabric with the precum that pools at the angry red tip. It's beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your cunt hurts with the anticipation of feeling it in you.

After taking his shirt off, Franco's right hand travels down to his dick, grabbing it with a firm grip before pumping it a few times, smearing his own juices all over his length, which makes it look even more appetizing.

You wait in your place on the bed, observing the small show of him touching himself for a few seconds until his right knee sinks on the mattress, right beside your shoulder. Then, his left hand goes to your hair, under your head, lifting it and adjusting it in the right way so the head of his dick is now right on your lips. He traces them with it, as if he were painting them.

“So fucking perfect.” He whispers. In response, you let your tongue lick around the head of his dick, coaxing a deep moan out of him. The first contact with his skin is delicious but now you want more, so much more. And apparently he feels the same.

“I'm gonna put it in your mouth. Is that okay, baby?” He asks. You make a sound that it's a mix between a whine and a moan as you nod for the hundredth time in the night. “Gonna suck my cock until I cum down your throat?” You almost jolt in excitement at that. “Yeah? You want my cum?”

Your answer sounds against the skin of his dick, which you keep licking. “Yes. Yes, please.”

That is the last thing you say for a few minutes, right before he presses the tip against your lips again and this time you open your mouth wide enough to take him in. The way Franco moans at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth is pornographic and you thank the Gods for that, the fact that he's always so vocal about everything and this situation is not an exception. Actually, his moans are all the fuel you need to keep going. The taste of him too. Everything about him makes you take him deeper inside your mouth every time he pulls almost all the way back, fucking your face faster and harder as the minutes pass by.

The grip on your hair becomes tighter as the sounds of your throat being fucked fill the room. You gag only two times, when he pushes all the way in and holds his dick in the deepest part of your throat he can reach, your nose pressed against him and saliva falling down your chin and neck. Every time he pulls out, you take a second or two to gather your breath but soon enough he's at it again, and you receive him without any complaint, relaxing your throat all you can as he keeps filling it over and over again.

The intensity and pleasure of it all becomes almost unbearable and soon you're pressing your thighs together, trying to ease the almost literal pain you feel. Franco sees it, attentive to your body even though a great part of his mind is clouded with the sweet abandon of pleasure. So, for a few seconds, he eases the grip on your hair so you can start doing most of the work now, because his right hand travels from your knee to your inner thigh, and it isn't long until you can feel his fingers in your cunt.

Both of you moan at the feeling. You, because the pressure of his fingers on your slit ease the pain you've been feeling; him, because you're so fucking wet that, when he starts massaging your clit, your juices are so abundant that the movements he makes leave a loud, squelching sound behind them.

“You're soaked.” He moans, still inside your mouth and touching you at the same time. “Is this because of me, love?”

The answer is obvious to both of you, but you answer anyway, “Yes.” You say, a hoarse voice can barely be heard above the sounds of your cunt. “Yes, it's because of you. Always.”

Franco smiles, “Do you always touch yourself while thinking of me?” You nod and this time he laughs. It doesn't make you feel bad because it isn't a mocking laugh, it's like he can't believe it. “Same. You have no idea how many times I've made a mess while thinking of you.”

As his velvety voice keeps sounding in your ears, he keeps massaging your clit, faster as the seconds go by.

“I've imagined you in every position.” He mutters. “I've made myself cum so many times, thinking of your sweet mouth and cunt wrapped around me, milking me as many times as we wish.”

He's realized from the first moment that dirty talking is one of your weaknesses, and lucky you, he loves saying naughty things, so he keeps doing it as he massages your clit and smiles triumphant when your legs start trembling and you look at him with an expression on your face that he will never forget. Glassy eyes look up at him as your teeth sinks into your lower lip; your orgasm is close and everything about you says so.

When you try to close your eyes, his hand immediately slows the pace on your clit. You frown.

“What-?”

“You keep looking at me.” He commands. You want to yell at him, but his movements become fast again and the sweet pressure on your lower belly comes back. “You look me in the eyes as you cum or I won't do this again, you understand?” You nod. “Words, (y/n).”

“I- fuck, I understand!” You moan as his fingers keep working you on at an impossible pace.

Not many seconds pass by until the first orgasm hits you hard. Your eyes are still on his; your entire body trembling as the most lewd sounds leave your throat. The simple act of having an orgasm while looking at those beautiful green eyes is enough to bring tears to yours. The pleasure is too overwhelming.

When the best seconds of your life so far end, your body relaxes and Franco pulls both his hands away from you, letting you rest on the bed. The fingers that worked your clit are now in his own mouth as he sucks them clean. The sight makes you moan.

“Delicious.” He says, coaxing a giggle out of you. “What?”

“You're crazy. And so fucking hot.”

Franco smiles and shrugs.

“You know me.”

“Not like this, no.”

“Oh, this? This is nothing, love.”

You frown, “You gave me the best orgasm of my life by simply touching my clit and you call it nothing? It never felt like that before.”

“I mean, it's not my fault that your previous lovers were fucking idiots.”

You smile.

“And you're what, some sort of sex God?”

“That I am.”

A genuine laugh escapes your lips. You laugh at his smug words and at the entire situation. Everything is so- surreal, in a way. It's almost comical. But the sound dies in your throat when you realize the way he's looking at you. He's not mad or annoyed, he just looks like he's discovered something new in you, but if he did he doesn't say it out loud.

Soon, when you've recovered from your orgasm, you realize that Franco's still standing by your side and his dick is still impossibly hard. You remember his previous words, about sucking him off until he's cumming down your throat, and you feel the fire inside you light up once again. Your right hand wraps around his dick without a warning and he hisses, but he doesn't pull you away, instead enjoying your ministrations.

“Not right now.” He says after a minute or two, as if he's reading your mind. You're sure, though, that he's actually reading the expression on your face as you jerk him off. It's clear that you want him to cum. “Not like this, I won't last long.”

You stop. Then, looking into his eyes, you open your legs for him once again.

“Come here, then.”

He doesn't need to be told twice. In an instant, he's standing at your feet; both hands reach behind your knees and they pull you towards him.

In a silent agreement, both of you take your time to look at each other. He's lucky enough to have you like this- completely bare before him, body glistening with sweat due to the previous activities, pretty face with an expression of utter pleasure as you anticipate what's coming, unconsciously opening your legs further, letting him fully see you. You're out of this world, so beautiful that it almost hurts. And he isn't so far behind- you also think he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, with those eyes scanning every piece of you, his curls sticking to his forehead and, oh, such a pretty face. His body is something else too- the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen, the shape of his arms, his hands. You take his hands in yours for a moment, squeezing them, praying this isn't the last time you feel them on you.

You're both so mesmerized with each other that your bodies seem to move with their own consciousness, and that's why you share a loud moan when he enters you for the first time.

It feels like nothing you've experienced before. You can't decide what is it that makes him so different from other people you've been with, but surely, there's something that makes Franco feel like heaven. He stays still for a few, long seconds because he's just realized that he penetrated you without warning and in a single movement, and even though it's obvious that you're ready enough to receive him, he doesn't want to hurt you.

What he doesn't realise is that you're in pain once again because you need him to move and put an end to this feeling, this primitive need to have him just fucking you hard and deep. And that's what you finally ask from him, without shame, without guilt.

“Please.” You beg once again. “Move. Please, move. I need to feel you.”

You're sure you're about to cry but the tears get stuck in your eyes when Franco complies and starts moving his hips. It's slow at first, like he's testing the waters, but when the only thing you do is moan softly and writhe under him, crying for more, his hands leave yours and travel to your hips. Once he's sure his grip on your flesh is firm enough, he accelerates the pace, and starts pumping into you with a force that has you almost screaming.

Soon you start moving your own hips, meeting him halfway and making the experience a thousand times better, if that's even possible. The feeling of his dick inside you, so fucking deep, is more than anything you've ever felt in your life.

The room is filled with the sound of your skin against his, and the musky smell of sex intoxicates your senses. You've dreamed about this moment for so long that it feels surreal- his hands on your hips, his cock deep inside you and his eyes roaming the entirety of your body, all of it feels so out of this world and you love every second. You love it so much that you feel drunk with pleasure and something else that you can name yet.

Franco grins at the sight of your eyes, glassy with tears that you're soon to shed. A deep feeling of pride fills his chest.

“Look at you.” He taunts, never stopping his movements. “You were made for this, weren't you? You were made for my cock, for me.”

You nod and moan, unable to form a full sentence as his pace becomes impossibly fast and hard- it's almost too much and the thought of asking him to slow down crosses your mind for a split second, until his hands travel up from their place on your hips to your breasts, and your brain almost shuts down.

“Gonna enjoy these later, I promise.” He chuckles as his long fingers start kneading the flesh of your tits. When he pinches your nipples, the moan that leaves your throat is almost too much, but you don't care. It feels too good to hold back.

You relish on the feeling of his fingers on your hard nipples until his right hand stops its ministrations to start roaming the skin of your left side, your waist, all the way back down to your hip and then- then you feel his fingers on your clit again, massaging it with expertise. You can't help but throw your head back as a deep moan leaves your throat.

“Fuck, yes.” You moan, almost hysterical. “So good, so good- oh my-”

Franco chuckles again and then says, in a mocking tone, “You're so dirty, (y/n). You really-” his words are suddenly interrupted by a strangled groan as you tighten your walls around him. Your warmth hugging his dick in a way that has him literally losing his balance and almost falling on top of you, and he would've crushed you if his arms weren't strong enough to keep him hovering over you.

His face contorted in an expression full of sheer pleasure, he looks so good with his eyes closed and mouth agape, desperately trying to hold the moans in.

You're the one who chuckles this time.

“Too good, huh?” You tease him, your cunt tightening around him once again. He groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck. “Can't take it, baby? Too much for you?”

Franco moans again and then you hear him whisper.

“I'm gonna make you- you will pay for this.”

You giggle softly.

“I think I'd like that.”

All resolve leaves him when you make your magic again. The feeling of your cunt hugging his dick so tightly is enough to make him lose his mind and almost all control. His movements become messier as they get faster, you feel him twitch inside you once, then twice. You hum at the feeling, caressing his back and nape, then intertwining your fingers with his messy, wet locks.

“I'm close.” He moans, the sound muffled by your skin.

“I know, baby. Come on, cum for me."

“You first.”

For a moment you think your words are enough, but apparently they aren't. In a second, Franco seems to take back control of the situation when he suddenly breaks away from your arms, kneeling in front of you just like before- his hard, throbbing dick still deep inside of you. You're about to ask him what's going on but then his long fingers are on your clit again, and you answer by throwing your head back in a loud moan.

Franco keeps working on the most sensitive part of your body as he starts moving again, in and out, at a torturous pace that has you writhing on the bed. Your eyes fill with tears again and he smiles.

“Cum for me, love.” He encourages through gritted teeth. You know he's holding his own orgasm back by fucking you slowly, and his will certainly impresses you. “Please, do it. Cum all around my cock.”

How would you deny him? When he looks so good fucking you, working on your clit like this isn't the first time. How would you deny him anything when this is all you've ever wanted?

So you let yourself go. Your second orgasm hits you harder than the previous one, sweet cunt gushing all around him, soaking him and the sheets below you. Your moans are almost pornographic and you feel him twitch inside you at the sound of them.

In the electric explosion that takes over your entire body and mind, you feel him crawling back on top of you, like he was just minutes ago. His face hiding in your left shoulder again as his hips keep fucking into you aggressively, making your climax last longer than expected.

“Look at me.” You moan in his ear and your body trembles with the sound of a deep groan coming as a response. After a few seconds of you repeating those words, he lifts his head to look at you, forehead pressed against yours. “Cum inside of me and don't stop looking at me as you do it.”

He chews on his lower lip.

“I-inside?” You nod as much as you can. “Fuck, (y/n).”

“Please, I need it.” You moan against his mouth, your eyes on his. “I need your cum.”

That last sentence is accompanied by his name and the way you moan it's all it takes for him to finally let go. The sounds Franco makes when he's cumming deep inside of you are never going to leave your memory, and you wish, right here, now, that you have the opportunity to hear them again many times from tonight. The sight of him is beautiful too- brows furrowed, eyes desperately trying to stay open and that pretty mouth shaped in an O form. His cheeks are red and glistening with the sweat that's covering him, as well as the tip of his nose.

As he empties inside of you, you keep caressing his back, leaving goosebumps behind your touch. His skin shivers with the feeling, still making little sounds that will haunt you forever.

He pumps into you two or three times more, still filling you with his release, that soon you start feeling overflowing your cunt, falling down your ass and on the sheets. You wonder if he always cums this hard, and the idea that he might not, that you're the only one that makes him feel like this, it's exciting.

After some long seconds he stops moving his hips but is still buried deep inside of you. His face goes back to the crook of your neck for the second time and you smile as you feel his hot breath on your skin and then a kiss, then his teeth grazing the spot and sinking into it.

“That's gonna leave a mark.” You moan.

“Good.”

You stay like that for minutes that feel like hours, in each other's arms, your skin sticking to his due to the sweat that you both share but you couldn't care less. It feels too good, everything about it feels too good and none of you make an attempt to break away from the other.

Franco knows, as well as you do, that this has been an event that will change everything forever. Some part of you is afraid of what comes next- a hundred questions flood your brain but the main one is the one that haunts you the most. Was this a one night stand?

You're about to gather the courage to ask him when he lifts his head to look at you, forehead against yours again. You look him in the eyes and, for a moment, you think that the green in his gaze gives you the answer you so desperately need. But in case you needed confirmation, he decides to speak it out loud.

“I wanna do it again.” He simply states, and you feel your chest full with happiness. “Like, forever. I really mean it.”

You giggle in response and you feel the tears that you've been holding back slowly falling down your cheeks. Franco kisses them away as soon as he notices them.

“You liked it that much?” You ask as he keeps kissing your face. He stops for a moment to answer, his lips moving against your jaw.

“Yeah. But I like you, all of you.” He says. “And I want you so much it hurts.”

“I want you, too.”

He smiles shortly before capturing your lips with his, and you realise that this is the first time you've ever kissed. People are supposed to kiss before having wild sex, but who cares?

All you care about is Franco and his pretty lips on yours, moving with such confidence and expertise that leave you breathless. You can feel everything in that kiss, it feels like he's trying to say all those things that he thinks it's too soon to say yet, but you answer him with the same intensity, making him tremble in your arms.

His kiss says that he loves you too much to let you go, and you tell him that you feel the same.

a/n2: hope you liked it! pls let me know what you think ♥

#may writes #.#franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto fic #franco colapinto imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smut

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scoupsakakitty · 2 days ago

Text

Please Don’t Leave Me pt.2 | idol!Mingyu x Reader | fluff

The phone buzzed against the car's dashboard, but the call went straight to voicemail—just like all the others before it. Mingyu let out a sharp exhale, gripping the steering wheel tightly before pressing the phone to his ear as the familiar automated message ended.

"Y/N, you're leaving me no choice," his voice was hoarse, exhausted. "I'm on my way to your dorm. I can’t keep waiting for you to answer. We need to talk. You can be mad at me, you can yell at me, but you can’t ignore me. Not anymore."

With that, he hung up and started the engine, his heart pounding against his ribs as he sped off towards the university. The rain drizzled lightly, the city lights blurring against his windshield, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by her. By them. By everything he was about to lose if he didn’t do something.

When he arrived, he parked haphazardly, not caring if he was in a student-only parking zone. He stepped out, pulling his hood up to shield himself, but it was useless. The moment he walked through campus, he could feel the weight of eyes on him. Whispered voices, subtle gasps—some had recognized him. But he didn't care. He had one goal.

Stopping in front of her dorm room, he knocked. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. "Y/N, open the damn door." His voice was firm, unwavering. "I'm not leaving until you do."

A few seconds passed, and then—

The door swung open so fast he barely had time to react before Y/N’s hand gripped his wrist and yanked him inside. She slammed the door shut behind him, her eyes wide with disbelief and frustration. "Are you insane? Showing up here like this? Now people will definitely know you’re here! And then you knock like that? Desperate much?" Her voice was laced with panic.

Mingyu took a deep breath, stepping closer. "You left me no other choice. If you had just picked up the phone, if you had answered even one of my thousand messages, I wouldn't have had to come here."

She crossed her arms, her expression hard. "I don’t have to answer just because you call."

His jaw clenched. "Then I have to show up."

Silence settled between them, heavy and unyielding. Finally, she sighed, rubbing her temple. "What do you want, Mingyu?"

His brows furrowed, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "What do you mean, what do I want? Isn't it obvious? I want you. I want us. I can’t do this without you."

She scoffed, turning away. "Mingyu, wanting something doesn’t always mean you get to have it."

He ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration evident. "I talked to my management. I told them I want to go public with our relationship. I don’t care about the consequences. I don’t care about the fans who won’t support it. If they love me, they need to accept that I love you. That I can’t live without you."

Her breath hitched, but she remained silent.

"You’re not happy without me, Y/N. Just like I’m not happy without you. I know it. You know it. So why are we doing this?" His voice cracked, raw and pleading.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her sweatshirt. "Mingyu... the stress, the sasaengs, the threats—it’s too much. Even if we go public, that won’t change overnight. And you’re always traveling. I barely got to see you before, how will it be any different?"

"I’ll take you with me." His answer was immediate. "We’ll talk to your university. My management has connections—we can figure out a way for you to do your studies online. That way, you can be with me. I can protect you."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "I can’t afford online tuition, Mingyu. I can barely afford my fees as it is."

His heart ached at the helplessness in her voice. Slowly, gently, he reached for her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "That’s what you’re worried about? Y/N, come on. How many times have I offered to pay for your tuition? Let me take care of you. Let me give you the life you deserve."

"I don’t want to be a burden to you," she whispered.

"You're not a burden. You're my life." His voice was thick with emotion. "Stop finding reasons for this not to work. I can and will fix everything, but I need you to fight with me. For us."

For a long moment, she just stared at him. At the exhaustion in his face, the desperation in his voice. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. Like he was drowning.

Finally, she exhaled shakily, placing her hand over his chest, feeling the steady, desperate thump of his heart. "Okay... you’re right." Her voice broke. "I’m sorry, Mingyu. I’m so sorry for making us suffer like this. Please forgive me."

A choked sob of relief escaped him as he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. "You won’t regret this, I promise."

She let out a watery laugh as he peppered kisses all over her face—her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. "Mingyu, stop! You're acting like a puppy."

He grinned, setting her down but not letting go. "Now that I finally have you back, I’m never letting go again."

His eyes flickered around her room, taking it in for the first time in person. "So this is your room, huh? I’ve only seen it on FaceTime. Cozy. I like it."

She rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. "It’s small, but it’s mine."

"Not for long," he mused. "Once you start online classes, you’ll be moving out. Either to my dorm or, better yet, our own place. And when I’m on tour, you’ll stay with me. We’ll share hotel rooms, wake up together, fall asleep together. Doesn’t that sound perfect?"

Her heart swelled at the thought. "I always wanted to go on tour with you, to be honest."

Mingyu’s lips curled into a soft smile. "Then it’s settled. From now on, we’re always together. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more distance."

He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything. And I’ll spend every single day proving that to you."

Her heart melted as she whispered, "I love you too."

And as he kissed her, sealing their promise, she knew—this time, they were going to make it.

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heliosunny · 18 hours ago

Note

Hello, I really like your work with yandere characters! Your fanfic with the Crown Prince!Phainon holds a special place for me. But hey, listen! What about reader x self-aware!Phainon? Like, at some point he realized that he was in the game and decided to drag reader to him, because he has more power and influence in the game than outside it. It would be interesting, I think.

Entwined Realities

Yandere!Phainon x Reader

The Astral Express charted a course for its next destination: Amphoreus. You leaned forward, staring at the planet. "Woah, it's in the shape of an '8'". you mused, watching as the endless loops of landmasses interwove like an infinity symbol suspended in space.

Before long, events unfolded that led you to land on its surface with Dan Heng. The Eternal Land, as it was called, had a mysterious aura about it, a strange balance between old traditions and futuristic advancements.

You then met: Phainon, a strikingly tall and well-built warrior with silver-white hair and piercing blue eyes, carried himself with an easy confidence. Alongside him was Tribbie, a young girl with elf ears, fair skin, and red, fluffy hair.

Just as you began to explore Amphoreus further, an unmistakable growl escaped from your stomach. With a sigh, you reached for your controller, pausing the game before ultimately deciding to turn it off. The screen faded to black, and you stretched, rubbing your eyes after hours of playing. You needed food before diving back in.

------

As you turned away, a flicker of amusement in his expression as he folded his arms. "Huh. Strange."

Tribbie tilted her head. "What is?"

"That one. They left so abruptly. Like... they just stopped being here." Phainon’s fingers tapped absently against his bicep, his gaze still fixed on the spot where you had stood moments ago.

Tribbie let out a chuckle. "I didn't feel a thing. You overthink again."

Phainon had met many warriors, countless travelers—but something about you lingered. It was subtle, like an itch at the edge of his perception. The way your movements never faltered, the way events seemed to bend slightly in your favor. It was as if reality itself adjusted to accommodate you.

A faint sensation prickled at his skin, almost like the world had momentarily held its breath.

Then—nothing. The streets bustled as usual, the city carried on. But Phainon felt it. A small void, an absence of presence that shouldn’t have been possible. He turned his head slightly, scanning his surroundings, yet everything remained as it should be.

"They’re gone" he murmured, uncertainty crossing his face.

Tribbie raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Phainon hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly around his bicep. "No...nothing."

And yet, something inside him whispered otherwise. It wasn’t just departure, it was severance, like a thread cut from the loom of existence. He had never felt that before. A warrior’s instinct was to trust his senses, but this? This was something else entirely.

Shaking off the thought, he exhaled.

"I’ll figure out what makes them different."

Phainon frowned slightly, shifting his weight. A flicker of something unfamiliar coursed through him—a stray thought, an intrusive notion that he should not have been able to form.

Moments ago, everything had followed its usual rhythm: scripted interactions, predetermined movements, and a world that operated within set boundaries. Yet, the moment you vanished, something inside him had... fractured.

He had been left standing there, conscious yet purposeless, aware of the passage of time in a way he had never been before. The NPCs around him continued their routines, oblivious, unchanging. But he had stood there—waiting.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

He tested it, moving a hand before his eyes, clenching his fingers experimentally. He had never thought to do something like this before unless it was dictated by his programming.

Phainon took a slow step forward, the weight of his body feeling more real than it ever had. He wasn’t just responding to a command. He was moving because he chose to.

And then it hit him—

This world wasn’t real.

------

After satisfying your hunger, you returned to your seat, powering the game console back on. The familiar start-up screen flickered to life, and soon, you were back on Amphoreus. NPCs and traders greeted you once more. Everything seemed as you left it.

Yet, something felt... off.

You couldn't quite put your finger on it at first. As you navigated through the streets, looking for Phainon and Tribbie, an uneasy sensation settled in your chest.

Phainon stood where you had last left him, but his posture had changed. Before, he had been at ease, arms crossed with a confident smirk. Now, he was staring—directly at you. Not in the way other characters typically would, waiting for a scripted interaction, but as if he knew something. As if he had been waiting for you.

His blue eyes, once filled with warmth and bravado, now carried something else. Awareness.

"You're back" Phainon said.

The usual text box didn't immediately appear. The game hadn’t prompted you with dialogue choices yet, and that alone sent a chill down your spine.

Something had changed.

A glitch rippled across the screen. The colors warped, pixels distorting into a fractured mess before stabilizing. Your hands tensed around the controller as the screen darkened for a brief second.

And then Phainon moved.

Not in the way the game intended. Not within the smooth animations you'd seen before. He took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between himself and the screen. His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, unblinking.

"You're not supposed to leave" he murmured, his voice reaching beyond the game, beyond the barrier of the screen.

Your fingers hovered over the buttons, your heart pounding. This wasn’t a scripted event.

Phainon lifted his hand—toward you.

The screen flickered again. Your vision swam. A sharp pull yanked at your chest, as though unseen hands had wrapped around you, dragging you forward. The world around you blurred, dissolving into an abyss of light and static.

The last thing you heard before everything turned black was Phainon's voice, quiet yet victorious.

"Now… let’s fix this together."

A dull ache settled in your head as you slowly regained consciousness. The air was still, almost too quiet, and a faint glow illuminated the space around you. Blinking away the haze, you pushed yourself upright, your fingers brushing against smooth fabric. It took a moment for you to process that you were no longer sitting in your usual gaming chair but instead sprawled across a bed in an unfamiliar room.

Panic surged through you as your hands instinctively patted your body. Your clothes—these were the same ones you had been wearing at home. Not some in-game avatar outfit, not armor or robes, but your regular, comfortable attire. A lump formed in your throat.

Where were you?

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you stood cautiously. The floor was solid beneath your feet, the air carried a faint, artificial warmth, and there was an unsettling sense of sterility. The room itself was furnished simply—stone walls, a sturdy desk in the corner, and a single window covered by thick curtains. No personal belongings, no obvious signs of anyone else nearby.

You took a cautious step toward the door, pressing your ear against it. Nothing. Not a single sound outside. It was eerily silent, as if the entire world had been muted. Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned got outside. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, stretching in either direction like an empty, endless corridor.

With careful, measured steps, you crept forward. The walls bore unfamiliar insignias, ones you had seen before but couldn’t quite place. Each step only heightened the gnawing sense of wrongness, a creeping realization tickling at the back of your mind.

And then, it hit you.

This place, the architecture, the symbols, the very atmosphere surrounding you—wasn’t just unfamiliar.

It was from the game.

This had to be a dream, some kind of delusion. But everything felt too real—the texture of the wood beneath your fingers, the faint hum of distant energy pulsing through the walls.

You weren’t just playing game anymore.

You were inside it.

Phainon rushed into the room, his usually confident expression faltering as he found the space empty. His gaze darted around, searching for any sign of you, before he quickly turned on his heel and made his way outside.

He found you not far from the building, standing frozen in the street, your wide eyes taking in the impossible surroundings. Without hesitation, he strode toward you, his grip firm yet careful as he took your wrist. "You shouldn’t be wandering around like this" he said, his voice laced with something unreadable. "Come with me."

Before you could protest, he guided you toward a nearby marketplace, bustling with figures in elaborate outfits that contrasted starkly against your ordinary attire. Phainon barely slowed as he led you toward a tailor’s shop, his grip loosening only when he stood before the merchant. "They need something more suitable" he stated, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

You hesitated, glancing down at your familiar clothes before finally voicing the thought that had been gnawing at you. "Phainon… how do I get back home?"

The weight of Phainon’s stare bore down on you.

"You’re not going home" he said.

"What?"

"I brought you here for a reason." He took a step closer, and instinctively, you stepped back. "You don’t belong in that world anymore. This is where you are now. With me."

"No. This isn’t real. This is just some glitch, right? I’ll find a way back." You clenched your fists. "I’m leaving."

Phainon exhaled, almost amused, almost pitying. "You think you have control?"

Your fingers curled tighter as panic surged through you. Desperation overruled fear as you focused, feeling the familiar weight of the baseball bat materializing in your grip. You didn’t question how—instinct took over.

Without hesitation, you swung at him with all your might.

But the impact never came.

His hand shot up, catching the bat mid-swing with terrifying ease. The force should have knocked him back, should have made him flinch—but he stood there, unmoved, fingers wrapped around the weapon like it was nothing more than a child’s toy.

Then, before your eyes, the bat shimmered, flickering with static before dissolving into cascading lines of glowing code.

"Wha—?" Your voice caught in your throat. You stumbled back, staring at your now-empty hands.

Phainon’s grip tightened slightly before letting the last of the data slip away into the air. "You don’t understand yet, do you?" He tilted his head, watching you with something akin to amusement. "This world bends to my will. Here, I am more than just a warrior. I am its ruler. And you—" He reached for you, but you jerked away.

"You have nothing."

Your mind raced. If Phainon controlled this world, then you needed an ally. Dan Heng. If anyone could help you, it was him. Without another word, you turned on your heel and sprinted in the direction you last saw him.

Phainon moved faster.

Before you could even react, he was in front of you. A sharp pain struck your temple as everything blurred. The world tilted violently, your vision fading to black before you could even cry out.

When you awoke, you were somewhere else. The air was heavy, unfamiliar, and the silence pressed against you like a suffocating weight.

Each time you tried, you discovered something new.

At first, it was small—a fleeting moment where the world around you responded to your thoughts. Like that one door that should have been locked clicking open. Each time you tapped into this power, you felt something unravel within you.

And each time, Phainon was there.

He found you the first time when you forced open a gate leading to the outskirts. He leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, watching you with a smirk before pulling you back before you could get far.

The second time, when you manipulated the gravity beneath you to leap across a rooftop, he appeared at the other end, effortlessly catching you mid-air and setting you back on solid ground.

The third time, you managed to shroud yourself in the crowd, blending in so well you thought you had finally shaken him. But as you turned a corner, there he stood, leaning against the alley’s entrance with an almost lazy amusement.

Each time, he grew more intrigued.

And each time, he stayed longer.

Phainon visited more than before, finding you no matter where you wandered. Sometimes, he merely watched. Other times, he engaged—teasing you, challenging you, indulging in casual conversation as if you were anything but his captive.

It made you wonder—did his friends ever question him?

One evening, while the sky burned a dusky orange, you finally asked, "If I agree to be with you, will you let me live more freely?"

Phainon studied you, expression unreadable. Then, he laughed softly, stepping closer until the space between you nearly disappeared. His fingers ghosted along your wrist, not quite holding but enough to remind you of his presence.

"Now, that's an interesting question," he murmured. "And one I might just consider."

The days stretched on. You wandered as much as you could within the confines of his reach, testing the limits of your newfound abilities. Sometimes, you found joy in the smallest acts of defiance. Other times, you felt the crushing weight of his attention.

One day, you encountered his friend. The moment you saw him, something about him caught you off guard. He carried himself with effortless grace, his beauty nearly mesmerizing, and for a brief moment, you forgot everything else. The encounter was fleeting, but it left an impression on you.

When you returned, you hesitated before asking, "Who was that? The one with golden eyes?"

Phainon stilled. His usual playful demeanor faltered for just a second before his smile returned. "Mydei" he said simply.

Something about the way he said it made the air feel heavier. You didn’t think much of it at first—until the next day, when he suddenly forbade you from leaving.

"You’re staying here today" he announced casually over breakfast. "No wandering off."

You narrowed your eyes. "Why?"

His smile didn’t waver, but there was an unmistakable sharpness in his gaze. "Do I need a reason?"

You didn’t let him off so easily. Rising to your feet, you grabbed his wrist before he could turn away. "Is this about Mydei?"

For the first time, something dark flickered behind his charming facade. He let out a slow breath, turning fully to face you. His fingers lifted, tracing the side of your face in a deceptively gentle motion.

"You have such a way of testing me," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder if you even realize it."

His fingers trailed down to your chin, tilting it just slightly as his blue eyes bore into yours. "Tell me," he continued, his tone smooth but laced with something possessive, "did he captivate you that much? Enough to make you forget who keeps you safe?"

Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. "This isn’t about safety, is it?" you challenged. "You’re jealous."

Phainon chuckled, though there was no real amusement in it. "Jealous?" He repeated the word as if testing its weight on his tongue. Then, he leaned in. "If that’s what you want to call it."

"You belong to me," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "So don't mention his name with that mouth of yours again."

This is going out of hand, and you must do something. A way to return to your own world, to get away from him.

You weren’t sure what you had done wrong. You've been trying to find your way back home so you messed with the system's rules, leading to whatever is happening in front of your very eyes.

Sitting before you was a system menu—one that shouldn’t have existed. It flickered, its edges distorted, as if the game itself was resisting your interference. Your heart pounded as you scrolled through the options, desperately searching for a way to force the game to release you.

Your fingers hovered over the last remaining command:

[Modify Event Flags]

A risk. A mistake. But you took it anyway.

A sharp chime rang in your ears, the screen flashing as the world around you trembled. The coding beneath your feet warped like rippling water, a sickening pull dragging you downward as the game executed whatever change you had triggered. Your breath hitched. This wasn’t what you intended. You had tried to bypass Phainon’s control, to force an event where he would let you go.

Instead, the world went dark.

When you woke, your surroundings were unrecognizable.

Gold and ivory silk draped over every surface, the warm glow of lanterns casting soft shadows along the grand walls. Ornate decorations stretched from the ceiling to the floor, the unmistakable scent of fresh roses filling the air. You blinked, your pulse quickening as you sat up, your fingers brushing against the embroidered fabric of an unfamiliar garment.

No. No, this wasn’t right.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

That voice.

You turned to see him.

Phainon stood at the edge of the room, adorned in a ceremonial ensemble far more elaborate than his usual attire. Silver-white hair, blue eyes gleaming with something unreadable. A slow smile curled his lips as he stepped closer, his presence consuming the space between you.

“What… is this?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Phainon tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. “You should already know, shouldn’t you? You’re the one who triggered the event.”

“The event?”

His expression softened, but there was something in his gaze—something terrifyingly certain. He reached out, fingers brushing over your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Our wedding.”

Your breath hitched, heart hammering against your ribs as his words settled into your mind. “That’s not possible—I didn’t mean to—”

“But you did,” he murmured, voice impossibly gentle. “The game has already set everything in motion.”

You scrambled out of bed, feet hitting the cold marble floor as you backed away from him. “No, I refuse this. There has to be a way to undo it.”

Phainon’s smile didn’t waver. “There isn’t.”

The weight of his words crashed over you like a tidal wave. The game had overwritten its own path. It had forced you into this event—one where every outcome led to you standing at an altar beside him.

His hand found your wrist before you could run.

“You’ve fought me at every turn,” he mused “And yet, here we are. Together. Just as fate—just as the game itself—has decided.”

You struggled against his grip, but it was firm, unyielding. “This isn’t fate. This is manipulation.”

Phainon chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “Then tell me… do you really think you have a choice?”

The doors behind him creaked open, revealing an expanse of guests waiting beyond them—characters you had met, NPCs whose scripts had adapted to fit this sudden turn of events. They were all here for one reason.

For your wedding.

Your breath came fast and shallow as you looked back at him. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

His grip on you tightened just slightly. “No, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you waste such a perfect opportunity. We're finally able to be together forever.”

You knew then—you were trapped. The game had sealed your fate. You only hoped to get away from him with an error, an event, anything. The system gave you this. You had your choice, but this event involved Phainon, how tragic. And Phainon… Phainon had never looked more satisfied. If it's something he can manipulate, surely he won't let you have your way.

“Now,” he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Shall we begin?”

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #phainon x you #yandere phainon #phainon honkai star rail #hsr phainon #phainon hsr #phainon x reader #phainon

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p0orbaby · 2 days ago

Note

Pl plz plz some Leah smut. Like reader has been travelling & leah has been sex deprived & when reader returns leah jumps her x

it’s not quite smut but it’s close enough

oh, and i’m sort of back…

You barely get the key in the door before it’s yanked open from the inside, like Leah’s been standing there, waiting, vibrating with unspent energy, and, more likely, unchecked rage. She looks good, which is annoying. Her hair’s slightly damp, and she’s in one of your hoodies—the grey one with the slightly frayed cuffs, the one she always steals when she wants to get away with things.

She stares at you. Not in a romantic, teary-eyed, oh-my-God-you’re-home way. More like she’s assessing the damage. More like she’s calculating just how much she’s going to make you pay for leaving her here alone. Three weeks. Alone. In this house. With only her own hand and a rapidly depleting sense of self-control.

“You,” she says, like an accusation.

“Me,” you say, stepping inside, dropping your bags.

She’s still staring.

“Miss me?” you ask, grinning.

She doesn’t answer, just grabs the front of your shirt, pulls you fully inside, and slams the door shut.

“Three weeks,” she says, voice clipped, already backing you against the wall. Her fingers curl in the fabric, knuckles whitening. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like?”

Leah has never been known for her patience. Not in queues, not in traffic, not in meetings, and certainly not when it comes to you. Three weeks you were gone. A press tour. Obligations. Endless flights, different time zones, hotels with beds that smelled like washing detergent and other people’s lives. Facetimes that never quite felt like enough. She’d lasted the first week with nothing but passive-aggressive texts and the occasional call, voice tight with the kind of restraint that suggested she was moments away from losing her composure entirely. By week two, she was openly sulking. By week three, you were receiving messages like, “I am actually going to die” and “This is inhumane” and “I hope you’re happy, my muscles have atrophied.”

“I was working”

“I had to do yoga.”

You blink. “You?”

“Yes.”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh. “Jesus.”

She exhales sharply through her nose, jaw tight. “Not funny.”

“No, of course not.” You shake your head solemnly. “Very serious.”

She glares at you. “I am not joking. And I had to light a candle.”

This time, you do laugh. “A candle?”

“A fucking lavender one.” Her grip tightens on your shirt. “I’ve been desperate. Like, actually clinically unwell. Do you understand?”

“I think I can imagine—”

“You can’t,” she interrupts, shaking her head. “You’ve been in Italy. Drinking espresso. Eating pasta. Probably wanking in a five-star hotel—”

“Leah—”

“Meanwhile, I’ve been here. Alone. With a shitty vibtator and several cold showers.”

“You act like I was off having an affair,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Leah exhales, impatient, then tilts her head, considering. “Would’ve been less cruel,” she says eventually. “At least then I could’ve been angry instead of just—” She gestures vaguely at herself. “—sexually malnourished.”

She kisses you before you have a chance to respond, her hands sliding up your chest, curling around the back of your neck, holding you there like she needs to keep you still, needs to make you stay. Her mouth is hot and demanding, frustration spilling over, and when she pulls back, she looks just as angry, just as desperate, just as ready to have you ruin her as she was a minute ago.

“Upstairs,” she says, already pulling you towards the staircase.

You smirk. “You’re keen.”

She stops, turning sharply, eyes dark. “Shut the fuck up and take me upstairs.”

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso x reader

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moonlight-alexia · 2 days ago

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Kyra has been off lately, so Steph and the others arange for tiny to surprise her. (When tiny is at lyon, like in your blurb.)

going through my asks and just got a bit of motivation to write this little blurb :)

reunited - kyra cooney-cross x catley!reader

With yours and Kyra's schedules combined with being in two different countries, the last month there had been an inevitable distance between the two of you. Neither of you meant for it to happen, it was just hard to navigate and work out a long distance relationship initially.

You'd gone from playing together, seeing each other all the time, to only being able to facetime when you were both free and half the time it ended up being at night where you or Kyra would fall asleep so quickly.

Kyra understood, but it didn't make any of it easier. Especially when you got injured. It wasn't anything serious or long-term but it was enough to put you out of the team for the next few weeks. But it also meant you'd miss the next international camp.

Kyra saw it happen before you'd even had the chance to tell her yourself. Not being able to be there and to help you made it worse for her. It wasn't your fault you got injured or that Kyra felt this way, she couldn't help it.

Kyra's change in mood was very noticeable. She'd gone from being her goofy, silly and annoying self to quiet and sulking whenever she had the chance.

'Is Kyra okay?' You asked Steph, you decided to call her since Kyra hadn't answered you in a few days.

'Well she's alive and going to training,' Steph trailed off a little, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want to worry her sister but she didn't want to lie to her either.

'But is she okay?' Your voice came through more firmly.

Steph hesitated, you hadn't taken everything when you moved to Lyon most of your room at her place was untouched, staring through the wall like she could see into your room.

She knew Kyra was there, she had been every day this past week. With a sigh your older sister told you everything, you already had a feeling but she confirmed it.

'Long time no see. Lyon's already roughing you up,' Leah nudged your shoulder gently once you'd made your way through the airport. Not easy since you were back on crutches trying your best not to be knocked over by the people rushing around the airport.

'Bet you're happy 'bout this, means arsenal won't lose by as much as now in the first leg,' You joked around, Leah took your backpack from you making it a bit easy to get around.

'You watch it, I'll leave you here,' You knew Leah was all talk and wouldn't actually, but you still played along.

'And then have to face my sister after you abandoned her poor helpless little sister,' Giving Leah a pout and a faux helpless look, one that she just rolled her eyes to and kept on walking.

You had a few days off and got the okay to be able to travel back to England to surprise Kyra. You did get a half hearted message yesterday from her, you were a little bit nervous.

What if Kyra didn't actually want to see you. Steph and Leah both put those worries to rest, reassuring you that your visit would be good for Kyra. Good for the both of you.

'Ellie and Daan said they'd take care of you, now look at you,' Steph gave you a tight hug, you didn't realise how much you'd missed your older sister.

'They are Stephy, can't blame them for this,' You laughed, 'In my room?' Steph nodded her head and you made your way towards your room. It was weird to be back here, felt like no time had passed but it had been months since you called Steph's apartment your home.

'Hey Ky,' You whispered, opening the door to your room. Kyra's eyes widened and she looked up at you. Rubbing her eyes, making sure you were actually in front of her and not just a hallucination.

Her eyes softened when she noticed the crutches and immediately went to you. Kyra’s arms wrapping around you tightly, you struggling to get your arms free of the crutches to hug her back.

You both stayed like that for a while. Enjoying being in each other's embrace, Kyra’s arms that you desperately missed, ‘I missed you,’ You whispered against Kyra’s neck.

‘I missed you too,’ Eventually you both pulled away from each other enough to be able to make your way to your bed. The one Kyra had been living in when she wasn’t at training. One of your hoodies on a pillow, you smiled slightly but didn’t comment on it knowing Kyra would get slightly embarrassed over it.

Kyra laid with her back against the headboard, you were laying between her legs, your head against her chest. Making sure you were keeping your injured leg in a way that wouldn’t hurt it further. Your hand was tangled with Kyra’s, gently rubbing and playing with her fingers.

‘I know it’s hard but you can’t shut me out. Please don’t do that Ky,’ You pressed yourself closer to Kyra, afraid she might disappear from you if you had any distance between you both.

‘I promise I’ll do better,’ Kyra whispered against the top of your head, pressing her lips against your forehead, ‘I’m glad you’re here with me right now,’

#kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #awfc x reader #auswnt x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #steph catley x reader #steph catley

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the-travelling-witch · 1 day ago

Text

bnha x farming sims

katsuki, or bakugo as he insists you call him, is the black smith with the foul mood and even fouler mouth. he’s not happy you’re bothering him so early in the morning and he’ll let you know. still, you make it a point to visit him regularly (and definitely not bc seeing him work by the forge in sleeveless shirts has you looking respectfully) and slowly but surely, he’s starting to warm up to you. well, katsuki’s way of warming up to someone, but progress is progress nonetheless. now take the shovel he totally didn’t make specifically for you before he whacks you over the head with it.

deku can be found running around the general store most of the time. he’s bright and cheery as he greets you, carrying heavy crates of produce like they weigh nothing. if it wasn’t for midoriya, you think you might have had a few more breakdowns, both mentally and physically, when you started life on your farm. you were of course also grateful for his help lugging animal food around but his friendly attitude and warm presence meant everything to you when you moved to a town where you knew nobody.

todoroki shouto is the mayor’s son, unwillingly following behind his father as he comes to greet you on your first day. afflicted by the nerves of your fresh start, you interpret his court greeting as immediate dislike and make a note not to bother him much in the future. however, one evening at the tavern, deku waves you over to their table and helps bridge some of the gaps between you. noting it’s not a dislike of you and just shouto’s natural stoic demeanour, you can’t help but warm up to him, heart fluttering when he graces you with a small smile.

kirishima is intimidating… for about 0.2 seconds. then he’s already showing you a bright smile and clapping a big hand on your back, nearly knocking you over. it doesn’t shock you at all to learn that he does a lot of the physical labour around town, from carrying materials around to splitting wood for the winter. the only surprising thing about him is the choice of his best friend because seriously? katsuki?? nevertheless, seeing kirishima always puts you in a more cheerful mood and he’s always more than ready to help you when you’ve run into a problem or another.

at first, you give kaminari a wide berth. not because he has done anything bad to you, per se, but more so because his reputation precedes him. you wouldn’t think someone could be branded as a flirt in a town as small as this, and yet he proves you wrong. it doesn’t help that, when you introduced yourself, he wiggled his eyebrows and dropped a line that made mina slap him upside the head. though, inevitably you come to find that a reputation isn’t necessarily the entire truth. and denki could really be quite cute, making you laugh with a dumb joke or another, when he wasn’t thinking with what’s in his pants.

keigo is in and out of town like a whirlwind, travelling between your more remote village and the more bustling locations some distance away. you come to learn that todoroki enji relies on his information quite a lot. your farm opens up more possibilities for trading routes in and out of town again, so it’s inevitable that keigo comes up to strike up a conversation sooner or later. his laissez-faire attitude is a pleasant breath of fresh air compared to the mayor’s gruff comments and you can’t help but laugh along with him. as you see more of each other, becoming close enough to chat over drinks at the tavern quite often, he brings you back interesting trinkets from his trips. in your minimalist home, they make the living space feel cosier and actually lived in; not to mention, you can’t help but think of the blond whenever you look at them.

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pissdrinker5000 · 2 days ago

Text

the first taste

a hamzah fic

warnings: smutty, kinda dom hamzah, fem reader, not proofread sry for any typos!!

(there was actually a whole part 1 to this but it did not save so heres the pt 2.. sry if there are references from pt 1.. just use ur imagination ig)

You both sit on Hamzahs couch, watching the show he begged you to watch with him, swearing he's going to put you on despite it not being a genre you typically enjoy. Red and Blue lounge on the couch next to Hamzah. After what feels like hours, but is really only halfway through one episode, Hamzah does the classic move, yawning and putting one arm around your shoulder. You shift a bit closer to him, your thighs now pressed against one another's. Your hearts are both racing, and you can't bring yourself to look at him, despite your desire to trace your gaze along his lips and his black curls again.

Hamzah suddenly breaks the tension, as if it was physically paining him not to, but he doesn't really know what to say. "Uh, you look really nice in that outfit."

Surprised, you look down as if you forgot you even had a physical body. And truthfully, you had been so preoccupied thinking about him that you almost did forget. "Thank you. It was just whatever I could find," you lie. You didn't want him to know how much you agonized over picking an outfit this morning. "You look good, too."

He smiles at you, making eye contact for the first time in a while. "Nah, it's just a hoodie and some pants I had laying on the floor."

You both chuckle, knowing the other is lying about how much effort they put into simply getting dressed.

He leans closer to you. Your faces are now close enough that you feel each other's breathing. Your eyes travel from his eyes to his lips. His breath stifles when he notices.

It feels like everything around you has dissolved, and all you can think about is bringing your lips to his. Closing that gap. You're far too nervous to make such a move, though. You try to look away in an attempt to break the tension, but Hamzah lifts his left hand to your face. You feel your skin melt against his touch. His hands are warm and surprisingly soft. He gently nudges your face back to look at him.

You can see the hesitation is his eyes, nervous to mess up what you two have. He leans even closer but stops right before your lips touch, looking up at you for reassurance. You try to tell him with just your eyes how badly you want this, and he somehow gets the message.

He leans in completely, your lips melting together as if they have been longing for each other your entire lives. His kiss is desperate, needy. He pulls away for a second to look into your eyes, and you smile each other before leaning back in, this time more desperate than the first. You place your hand on the back of his head, intertwining your fingers between his thick curls. His hand that was once on your cheek travels down to your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

His other hand makes its way to behind your ear, deepening the kiss. You have never moved this fast with anyone before, but you're filled with an overwhelming desire to explore his entire body. Your imagination races thinking about what he's hiding under those baggy clothes. His left hand sneaks underneath your cardigan and plays with the hem of your top. You twitch slightly at the feeling of his touch on your bare skin, and you accidentally let out a soft noise. He takes this as a sign to kiss you harder than you thought was possible, as you were already extremely close.

Your bodies get hotter, sweat starting to form, and you feel suffocated by the layers you're wearing. You pull back from the kiss to take off your cardigan, and Hamzah takes the opportunity to remove his hoodie, revealing a t-shirt with a stupid ironic saying on it. You crack a smile as you read it before he places both of his hands on your waist and pulls you back towards him to kiss you. This time closer than before. You can feel his bulge harden as your weight pushes down on it. This makes him let out a small groan. His hands become even more desperate, traveling down to your thighs. He grips your upper thigh, unable to hide his desire to be closer to you.

"Hamzah..." You let out in a soft whine.

He pulls back to ask, "Is everything okay?"

You nod your head, not breaking eye contact. "Perfect." You smile and lean in to kiss him again, but are surprised by him laying you down on the couch and positioning himself on top of you.

He looks so hot leaning above you like this, and you can't help but squirm underneath him, your pussy practically begging for him to be inside you.

"You're so beautiful," he remarks. "I knew since the moment I saw you that I'd be obsessed with you." His voice is low and soft. You become aware of the wet mess happening in your undies.

He uses his right hand to cup your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, while his left hand travels to your chest. You squirm and let out a soft, desperate moan as his fingers graze your nipple. Your lips collide once again, your tongues clashing inside each other's mouths. You move your hands to the waistband of his pants, sliding your fingers inside the seam. His hips buckle at the sensation, and he lets out a deep groan into your mouth, refusing to break the kiss. He lets his weight fall on top of you, your crotches pushing against each other needily. "Fuck," he groans.

You push him up and move your hands to the button on his pants, waiting for reassurance before you go any further. "Keep going," he breathes. "Please." You unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper, feeling his length fill up the space that has now opened up. He quickly starts to do the same for your pants, pulling them off as fast as he can, then assisting you with taking off his own. He pulls away from the kiss to admire your now exposed thighs and panties. He licks his lips as he moves his hands down your thighs and places a thumb on your pussy, feeling how wet you are for him. You moan and thrust your hips into his hand, almost involuntarily, overwhelmed by the feeling of him touching you so gently. He grins. Knowing how badly you want him, he's filled with confidence.

You notice the shift from hungry to insatiable, but you don't have long to think about it before he is back to work, kissing you again, moving one hand to grip your tit while the other presses harder into your crotch. Your moans become louder as he handles your body with an increasing confidence. "You're so hot... Where have you been my whole life?" He whispers to you while placing hungry kisses on your neck.

His thumb begins to pull down your panties, and he starts to finger you with his middle and ring finger, using the others to spread your pussy open for easy access. You start to respond to his question, but he shoves his fingers inside you, making you gasp. You forgot what you were even going to say, and all you can muster is a stifled, "Fuck, you're so good," through loud moans.

He thrusts his fingers in an out at the perfect rhythm, making you desperate for more. You move your hands to the waistband of his underwear, but he moves them away, not letting you pull them off. "Wait here, okay?" He says as he leans upright and begins to walk to his room. You wait patiently, listening to him shuffle around, opening and closing drawers. He comes out with a condom in a blue foil package between his fingers. "You okay with this?" He asks, making sure he didn't misread any cues. You nod enthusiastically, smiling up at him. The lighting in his apartment, or maybe it's just your angle, illuminates his muscles. You can't help but stare at his arms as he removes the condom from its wrapper and pulls it onto his length.

He climbs on top of you again and leans down to kiss you. His kiss is just as hungry as before, but with a note of satisfaction that he is finally able to do what he's been waiting for. Finally able to show you what it's like to get fucked by him. Finally able to have his way with your body, like he's wanted to since he first laid eyes on you. He didn't expect to fall in love with anyone any time soon, but now that he knows you, he can't imagine how he got through life without you for so long.

He rubs his dick along your clit, savoring the feeling of your wet pussy. "You're so wet," he remarks in a low grumble.

Your head feels dizzy with desire, and you moan at his touch. "Just fuck me already," you plead, unable to contain your desperation for him. He follows your instruction, slowly pushing his thick cock into your pussy, making you gasp in a whiny moan.

He smirks at the reaction he is able to get from you, and places his hand on your jaw as he thrusts in and out of your tight pussy. He moves his thumb over your mouth, gesturing for you to open. "Such a pretty girl. You're so good," he praises you as you open your mouth and start sucking on his thumb. He pushes it deep into your throat. "You take it so well, love. I'm impressed."

You melt hearing him call you "love." He thrusts into your pussy deeper and harder. "Let's see just how much you can take, huh?" He removes his thumb from your mouth and replaces it with a kiss, before gripping your waist to hold your body steady.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushynoobz #hamzah x reader #hamzah fic #my fist fic plz be nice 2 me

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