#but I think it's the best I could do for the prompt right now

[sugarwarachan]

pairing: shigaraki x afab!reader

based on this prompt list: ²⁾ “you’re telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here today?”

cws: FLUFF THIS IS SO FLUFFY WHO AM I, shigaraki is a pining mess, no quirks au, I know nothing about actual corporate offices except that I hate them lol

wc: 600 (a wee babe)

Shigaraki Tomura is not doing well.

For starters, he’s staring down the barrel at a year-long, cry-into-your-pillow-every-night kind of crush, and the object of his affection is literally standing outside of his house in the rain, asking to come in.

On Valentine’s Day.

He’s pretty sure his brain is visibly leaking out of his ears.

“Tomu, are you all right?”

You’d think after months of working in an office together, he’d have a handle on being normal around you, but apparently that’s not the case today. The nickname makes his heart hammer so loudly he can barely hear himself answer.

“You’re telling me you have nowhere better to be today than here?”

Thunder claps overhead. Rain starts pouring down in earnest, pounding the pavement behind you. He ushers you into the entryway, trying to keep his cool when you steady yourself on his forearm to toe off your shoes. Your shirt clings to the curve of your waist in a way he does not trust himself to look at too closely.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I like hanging out with you.”

You can’t be serious. It's you. The last person in the world he expected to be alone on today.

"You know what day it is."

You level him a look. "I do, actually. I have this thing called a calendar. I think you also have one installed on your phone?"

"Ha ha, marketing monkey."

You poke your tongue out at him. "Whatever, creepy IT guy."

He’s happy to sink into this routine, actually. It’s familiar. Touya calls it flirting; Tomura tries not to call it anything.

"I did get you something, though," you say. "For Valentine’s Day."

You hand him a simple red box tied off with a silver bow.

"Don’t laugh too hard at it, okay? I tried."

You’re never uncertain. He noticed that about you right away, assumed you’d be standoffish and rude because of it just like all of his other coworkers.

But you hadn’t been. You’d been kind in the way that made his teeth hurt.

He opens the box slowly, almost reverently. Inside are small, homemade chocolates, all molded in a somewhat clumsy likeness of his dog Mon.

Fuck.

He stares into the box, dumbfounded.

Sure, you play League with him on the weekends, and yes, he’s gone over the days you have coffee with him so many times they're seared into his brain, but that doesn’t mean you like him.

Except—

This is a lovely, hand-crafted gift that makes him feel so wanted he could actually drown in the feeling. It has to mean something. Right?

“Tomu?”

He snaps himself out of it.

"This is, umm." Shit, he actually has no idea what to say. He looks at you, which is a bad idea, because now all he can think about is how fucking pretty you look in his house, next to his things, bending down to greet Mon as he flies from downstairs to greet you.

"That bad, huh?" You pretend to joke, ruffling Mon's ears.

"No!" he all but shouts, wincing mentally before crouching down beside you. Mon rolls over to show off his belly.

"It's the best gift I've ever gotten," he tells you. "No one's ever made me something like this."

And because no one has ever made him something like this, Tomura takes a chance.

"Do you want to stay? You can run a bath while I grab some food and we can make a day of it?"

You grab his hand and thread your fingers through his, beaming.

"I'd love nothing more."

[mrspiastri]

10. “You do realize you’re completely stealing my heart right now, don’t you?” with Lando Norris and maybe sibling's best friend? Thank you 😊

lando norris x reader

prompt 10. “You do realize you’re completely stealing my heart right now, don’t you?”

💌💌💌

Lando had always known Y/N was off-limits.

She was his sister’s best friend—the girl who had spent more time in their house than some of their actual family members, the one who had been there for every birthday, every stupid family trip, every late-night conversation when his sister needed her most.

She was supposed to be untouchable.

But somewhere between childhood and now, Lando had stopped seeing her as just his “sister’s best friend”.

He wasn’t sure when it had started. Maybe it was the summer she had come back from university, all sun-kissed skin and easy smiles, sliding back into their lives like she had never left. Or maybe it was when she started calling him late at night just to talk, her voice soft with exhaustion but filled with things she could only tell him.

Or maybe—just maybe—it had been forever, and he had only just started to realize it.

The weight of it all had been pressing down on him for weeks.

It was in the way his heart raced whenever she laughed at one of his stupid jokes, the way his hands burned whenever they accidentally brushed against hers, the way she looked at him sometimes—like maybe she was thinking the same thing but didn’t know if she was allowed to.

And then there were the times when she wasn’t looking at him, and he found himself staring at her anyway.

Like tonight.

She was curled up in a chair on the patio of the Norris house, the soft glow of the string lights casting a golden hue over her skin. The party inside had mostly died down, leaving only a few lingering voices and the distant hum of music. His sister had gone to bed hours ago, assuming Y/N would do what she always did—crash in the guest room like she had a hundred times before.

But this time, she hadn’t.

Instead, she had stayed out here. With him.

And Lando? Lando was losing his mind over it.

He sat beside her, stretching his legs out, watching as she played absentmindedly with the rings on her fingers. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy —charged with something unsaid, something inevitable.

Finally, she broke it.

“Lando,” she murmured, not looking at him.

His heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, fingers tightening around one of her rings. “Do you ever feel like… things have changed between us?”

Lando inhaled sharply. He had not been prepared for that.

He turned to face her fully, studying the way her brows furrowed, the way her bottom lip was caught between her teeth like she was trying to stop herself from saying too much.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I do.”

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and for a second, neither of them spoke.

It would be so easy to brush it off. To make a joke, to change the subject, to go back to pretending that they weren’t slowly unraveling every time they were near each other.

But Lando was tired of pretending.

He let out a breath, dragging a hand through his curls. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “I know.”

“But I want to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She exhaled shakily, shaking her head. “God, Lando. You have no idea how much I want to.”

His chest tightened. “Then why don’t we?”

She looked at him then, something raw flickering in her eyes. “Because your sister would hate me.”

And yeah. That was the problem.

Lando’s sister loved Y/N like she was family. Their friendship was everything to her. If this went wrong, if it ended badly, Y/N wouldn’t just lose him. She’d lose her best friend too.

Lando should care about that more.

He did care.

But not enough to let her go.

Not when she was sitting there, so close, looking at him like she was trying to convince herself that walking away was the right thing to do.

“Y/N,” he murmured, leaning in just slightly. “You do realize you’re completely stealing my heart right now, don’t you?”

Her breath hitched.

And for a second, he thought she might push him away. That she might laugh and shake her head and pretend like none of this was happening.

But then— finally —she whispered, “You stole mine first.”

Lando’s heart slammed against his ribs.

“Then let’s stop pretending,” he said, voice rough with something between desperation and relief.

She hesitated, and for a terrifying moment, he thought she was going to say no.

But then, ever so slowly, she reached for his hand, fingers threading through his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Fuck it,” she breathed.

And that was all the permission he needed.

Lando surged forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt like every stolen glance, every unspoken word, every suppressed feeling finally being set free.

She melted into him instantly, her hands fisting in his hoodie as if she had been waiting for this just as long as he had.

When they finally broke apart, willing their hearts to stop beating so fast, Lando let out a breathless laugh. “That was a terrible idea.”

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing absent patterns against his chest. “Yeah.”

“You still wanna do this?” he asked, searching her face for any sign of doubt.

She looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I do.”

And just like that, they crossed the line they had been dancing around for far too long.

Whatever happened next—whatever fallout came from this—they would figure it out.

Together.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

OKAY this was initially meant to be for the wolfstarmicrofic prompt unrequited (10th Feb), but then I got too into it, it's well over 1,000 words, and I gave it a day to figure out how to end it. It's now a oneshot that doesn't currently have a name (bear with I'll figure out what to call it haha)

Remus is in love with Sirius.

Everybody knows it. His friends, most of the students, the teachers, even Sirius himself. After one drunken confession that involved a lot of him crying and apologising, and Sirius pulling him into a hug to assure him over and over that it doesn't change anything between them, Remus has reached a pretty solid conclusion.

Sirius doesn't love him.

In all honesty, it's exactly what he had expected, and why he'd kept it a secret for as long as he had. Thankfully, Sirius wasn't lying when he said it wouldn't change anything. If anything, Remus has felt a hell of a lot lighter since everything happened. Sure, all of his friends know that he's hopelessly head over heels for his best friend, and that it's embarrassingly one sided, but none of them are judging him for it. They're all being really nice about everything. It's gotten to the point that Remus can make jokes about it and have his friends laughing, rather than halfheartedly trying to conceal their pity. It's a welcome relief, even if he still spends an unhealthy amount of time crying with his curtains closed around his bed.

Still, peaks and valleys.

Everything feels a little lighter than it did before and, hey, at least he knows where everybody stands now.

Well, he thought he did.

As it turns out, all it takes is a poorly timed joke to flip Remus' world on its head.

He's just chatting with Mary, walking back from class. In all honesty, he'd thought that his friendship with them would be ruined after they found out that he's in love with their ex, but honestly? It feels like they've gotten much closer since the whole thing came to light.

As the two of them get into the common room, it's as though Sirius just... appears in front of them. He makes Remus jump a mile, much to Mary's amusement.

"Hi. Hey. Could I, er... could I talk to you about something?" Remus watches Sirius' brow furrow in that way of his, and he knows that he's going to say yes. The ominous implications of needing to talk make him feel a little bit sick, really, but he's not going to say no to Sirius. He can't bring himself to do it. Especially not when he seems so... nervous.

"'Course." He turns to Mary. "See you around?" They nod, before turning to Sirius.

"Meadowes." Sirius nods at them.

"Black. Listen, hurt his feelings and I'll do something Azkaban worthy." They jab a finger at his chest, and everyone knows that they're not joking.

"Got it," he says, quickly raising his hands. They release him, then, shooting Remus a kind smile before disappearing upstairs. Sirius turns to Remus, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Remus says, shrugging sheepishly. "They're still in the whole... feeling sorry for me phase."

"Ah. Right." The two of them start to walk up to the dorm together.

"It'll pass," Remus says gently, not missing Sirius' sudden uncertainty. "Everyone was like that at first, remember?"

"Yeah," Sirius nods. "Merlin, it was a sad few weeks, wasn't it?"

"Well, unrequited love is terribly depressing," Remus quips, hoping to draw a smile out of Sirius. Instead, Sirius gets into the dorm with clenched fists. He stops in his tracks, unclenching his hands and pressing the heel of his palm to his eye. He isn't facing Remus but, based on the shaking of his shoulders, Remus can tell that he's fighting tears. "Hey, what's...?" Sirius crumbles, burying his head in his hands and outright refusing to turn around. "Sirius... hey, c'mere."

He quickly moves in front of Sirius and pulls him into a hug without really thinking, hoping that he can hold him through whatever crisis is going on in his head. Thankfully, Sirius relaxes into the hug, tension leaving his body as he cries into Remus' shoulder.

"I'm- I'm so sorry," Sirius gets out, slightly muffled in Remus' shoulder.

"Sorry for what?" Remus asks softly, confused. "Last time I checked, you haven't done anything wrong."

"I- Moony, I'm- awful, I'm so awful." He holds Remus a little tighter, as Remus tries his level best to figure out what's going on.

"You're not awful," he says simply, firmly, hoping that it's enough to at least slightly dispel the panic that seems to be gripping at Sirius.

"I am. Fuck, I really am. I- I don't want to- I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Remus answers, even more confused than he was before. Sirius untangles himself from the hug, quickly wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath. "What's going on?"

"Remus, I- I don't know how to say it."

"Whatever it is," Remus starts slowly, carefully, "I promise I won't be pissed off."

"...You will be," Sirius says quietly. Remus practically wants to shake him, tell him that there's literally nothing that he could do that would anger him.

"I promise you," he says again, as Sirius looks up and meets his eyes. "I won't be." Sirius nods, taking a deep breath.

"I... well, Remus, I- I'm..." He stops himself, screwing his eyes shut. "I'm in love with you," he exhales in a rush, and-

What?

Remus' eyes widen, as Sirius chances a glance at him. For a second, Remus can't actually think. Every thought seems to have run out of his brain, his voice dying out, anything other than shock bolting from his system.

"I- I think I have been for a while, I just... I don't know, I was so scared. Hell, I still am pretty scared," he says with an empty laugh. "I just... I'd been pushing down this part of me for so long, I don't think I was thinking about how I actually felt when you... I was more thinking about making sure you knew that I didn't want to stop being around you. I mean... it took me until a few weeks back to even start thinking about what I want, which... it isn't fair on you, Rem, and-"

"You love me?"

"...yeah."

"You're in love with me."

"Yeah."

"This isn't a joke, is it?" He asks suddenly.

"What? No! No, it's not a joke."

"Because it's not funny."

"No, it's not funny. It's not a joke."

For a second, they just look at each other, both boys desperate to find something to say.

The issue is, no words are coming to Remus' head.

He needs to do something, though. He can't just leave Sirius standing here after that. Honestly, a big part of him feels like this is all just a dream, one that he's about to wake up from and mourn for a long time. There's no way that Sirius...

Fuck.

Sirius loves him.

This whole time, Sirius has loved him. He feels like he should be somewhat frustrated, after all of the time spent heartbroken, but he can't bring himself to be. Not at Sirius.

Eventually, Remus reaches his limit with the silence. He can't take just standing here with what he knows now. Words clearly aren't an option anymore, so Remus opts for the easiest option.

He pulls Sirius in by the jacket and kisses him.

After the initial surprise, Sirius positively melts. His hands reach out and cup Remus' face, as Remus winds his free arm around Sirius' waist and tries to tell himself that he isn't dreaming. This is real. Sirius right in front of him and tangible. Sirius kissing him like he's more important than oxygen.

Sirius kissing him.

After what feels all too short, both of them break apart, interrupted by the need to breathe. Remus wouldn't be able to fight the smile rapidly spreading across his face even if he wanted to. Thankfully, Sirius has a very similar smile infecting him.

"I love you," Remus says, watching Sirius blush more than he'd ever seen him blush before.

"I love you," he says back, and Remus gets the strongest urge to kiss him again.

Sirius beats him to it.

[hamburgerndsprite]

Sprite's Favourite Fics {Bangtan Fics} Part 12

Note: Hey everyone! Just a quick heads up: in the last seven parts of my fic recs, I included stories featuring all the members. For the next few parts, though, I have more fics that focus on just a few of them. So, I'm going to make separate lists to finish up those fics, mostly highlighting the Maknae line, Yoongi, and OT7 stories. I've already made OT7, Yoongi's, Jimin's and Taehyung's separate fic recs list in Parts 8, 9, 10, and 11. This is the last part and will be all about Jeon Jungkook's fics!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11 (completed)

[JEON JUNGKOOK]

{ONESHOT}

➺ Daybreak by bbangtans

pairing: rockstar!ex!jk x f!reader genre/tropes: angst, fluff, exes to ???, right person wrong time/second chances, jungkook is so romance film lead coded – charismatic and well-spoken and genuine and ughhhhh i be fawning frrrr, this takes place where both jk and reader are 28ish, jk is a lead singer in a band with tae-jimin-yoongi, and y/n is a working professional wordcount: 10.1k Summary: One of your favorite things to do when you were in your early 20s was stay up late where reflective conversations eventually blurred into nonsense as the sun rose alongside someone you thought you would spend the rest of your days with… Now you’re stuck in New York City for one night due to a delayed flight with that very person standing there in his leather jacket and guitar case in hand across from you at the airport gate. See, fate is a funny thing and Jeon Jungkook could always find the humor in anything.

➺ Lucky Number 7 by smoljimjim

>Pairing: husbandJK x wifeOC named Siri >Genre: slight angst, satisfying ending >Word count:  ~7500 >Warnings: swear words, JK's a cheater, the world works in mysterious ways. >Description: The seven-year itch has hit Jungkook. It hit him so bad, he did the unthinkable to his wife, Siri. How will Siri handle it?

➺ The Things He Did by smoljimjim

>Pairings: past bully!JJK x OC named Siri // ex-bf!PJM x Siri >Genre: slight angst, small bits of fluff >Word count:  ~8900 >Description: Siri thought she did well avoiding her highschool bully, Jungkook, during her university life. Unfortunately for her, her roommate starts dating Jungkook's best friend. Now, Siri sees Jungkook more than she'd like. But is that really so bad? Has he grown up? Is he a better man? Can she forgive him for the things he did?

➺ Red by borathae

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader Genre: married life!AU, Comfort Fluff, slight Smut in the beginning Wordcount: 1.7k Summary: "Jungkook knows that he can always use his safeword with you. Even during your most passionate of roleplays."

➺ The Boy with Galaxies in his eyes by oddinary4bts

☆pairing: Jeon Jungkook x female tattoo artist reader ☆rating: 18+ ☆genre: fwb to lovers, idol!au, angst (a lot), smut (a whole lot too), fluff ☆word count: 52.9k  ☆summary: you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

➺ Love Wins All by cheeseceli

Pairing: Jungkook × Gn! reader Genre: fluff, comfort, late 40s au, drabble, (established relationship) wc: (<1k words). Prompt: "However big, however small, let me be part of it all. You may be right, you may be wrong, but say you'll bring me along." Warnings: Both y/n and Jungkook struggle financially, they are married.

➺ Mistaken Very Much by 1uvtae

★pairing: jungkook x reader ★word count: 7.4k words!! ★genre: university romance, fluff, crack, tennis au ★summary/snippet: you don't think staring at his butt cuts straight to the conclusion that you, y/n y/l/n, have a crush on him....but whatever. it's not like you actually have a crush on him...right?

➺ Pink Sapphire by jiminrings

pairing: jungkook x reader wordcount: 11k genre: angst, arranged marriage au, fluff glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him. alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

➺ Letting Off Steam by wnderkoo

pairing: f1 driver! jungkook x sunshine gf genre: pure fluff word count: 1.3k summary: a bad day on track has jungkook storming off and disappearing. where else would one find him but in the comforting arms of his loving girlfriend?

➺ Picture Perfect by happy-meo

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff summary: a fluffy oneshot of when reader met jungkook for the first time. [Part of First Meeting Series]

➺ It was always you by hueseok

pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 13.2k content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader Description: for as long as you remember, you��ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, Jeon Jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it's course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years. so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor. or at least, that’s what you think.

➺ Never Sway by jksarchives

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader ➪ GENRE; hurt/comfort, established relationship, very domestic, jk yells at oc but is actually sweet, husband/wife, fluff, brief angst, one-shot ➪ WORDCOUNT; 2.7k ➪ SUMMARY; No matter the situation, Jungkook has never raised his voice at you, choosing patience and understanding instead. He loves you and cares about you too much to see you cry because of him. But his patience is put to a test when a situation arises.

➺ Mind and Music by jeonggukieverse

Pairing: Composer Jungkook x Academic Female Reader Genre: Established relationship, Absolutely Filthy Smut, Fluff, Angsty Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up babes), mentions impregnation Word count: 10k+ Summary: You would always smile and say it's okay whenever Jk misses out on important things in your life, and the boys would constantly hint that he should give you more time. Jungkook gets super sad once he realizes that he might not be making you happy anymore.

➺ Meraki by taegularities

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut ➳ word count: 26.6k ➳ summary: Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

➺ Navigating Tides by jjungkookislife

♡ pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader ♡ genre: exes to lovers, angst, fluff, smut [18+] ♡ wc: 18.9k ♡ summary: A cruise is the last place you expect to see your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook. You broke up six months ago, and your best friends Jimin and Yoongi assured you your ex wouldn't even remember this cruise that you booked a year in advance. However, on your first night on board, you discover your ex isn't only on the cruise ship, but there are no rooms available for him to stay in other than yours.

➺ Cool with You by kooktrash

➣ pairing: afab!reader [she/her] x neighbor!jk ➣ genre/au: strangers to friends to lovers. smut. ➣ wc: 14.6k words ➣ summary: your break up from kim taehyung sent you spiraling into what felt like a midlife crisis of tear stained cheeks and tubs of half eaten ice cream with a broken heart. after finding out that your neighbor, jeon jungkook, was eavesdropping on your meltdowns and came to find out that your ex was his old friend, he found himself wanting to comfort you. he knew the kind of guy Taehyung was and he didn’t want to see you beat yourself up over a guy who wasn’t worth it so in the end he helped you through it and was unable to ignore the growing attraction you felt toward each other.

➺ Mean by bonny-kookoo

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader Genre: Mafia!AU, Single Parent AU!, Angst, fluff, Smut Summary: Jeon Jungkook was kinda cute, you had to admit that- but he was also a massive douchebag with his head up his ass. And a cute kid.

➺ Caged Bird by borathae

Pairing: Bandit!Jungkook x Queen!Reader Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut, Romance Wordcount: 20k Summary: “Jungkook was sent by the Ravens of the Black Forest to kill the Queen of the Night Queendom. He hadn’t expected to find love when he climbed the high walls of the Queen’s castle and pressed a sharp blade against her throat.” 

➺ Choked by borathae

Pairing: Bandit!Jungkook x Queen!Reader Genre: Fantasy, Smut, sugar mommy queen & cute spoiled prince vibes Wordcount: 7.4k [ Caged Bird Drabble ]

➺ Slipping Through My Fingers by thvhoe

PAIRING: BOXER!Jungkook x Ballerina!Reader SYNOPSIS: Jungkook is frustrated, and you're the only one who can calm him down WARNINGS: Disgusting amounts of fluff, Jungkook tired tk be a badboy, lowkey succeeds, lowkey doesnt, fighting, mentions of blood and bruises, long hair jk, sentimental stuff, Christmas trauma?, oc is super joyful, she makes him talk about his feelings, small argument scene, cringe nicknames, polar opposites, KISSING

➺ Third Time's the Charm by jjungkookislife

pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x ex-gilfriend!reader genre: crack, exes to lovers summary: Jungkook will do whatever it takes to get you back. wc: 727 warnings: funeral, some cursing, some hitting

➺ Requested Drabble by minniepetals

Genre: Neighbor au Synopsis: "Why are you in your underwear?"

➺ Drabble by onlyswan

summary: in which jungkook doesn’t understand you sometimes. > fluff, suggestive / wc: 2.8k > warnings: making out, oc likes calling him baby boy okayyyy

{SERIES}

➺ You're on Jeon by smoljimjim

>Pairing: FuckboyJK x FuckgirlOC named Siri >Genre: enemies/idiots to lovers, angst, funny shit, fluff, sort of slowburn, happy ending >Parts: 38/38 >Overall story Warnings: OC is bisexual, she’s 3 years older than JK, she sleeps with a lot of girls at the start (no details), JK+OC are both hoes at the start- they're just having fun. Betting and revenge, small slut shaming, OC has family drama: a mean dad, an evil sister and a cheating ex-bf, but she has the best mum! JK is immature but grows to be a loyal golden retriever. >Description: You’ve heard the typical story where the college fuckboy does a bet to get the girl – well what if that girl happens to be a fuckgirl? And what if she’s the one making bets with him?

➺ The Cocktail Triology by borathae

Summary: “It takes a trilogy to tell this story. It is a story of love, friendship, the hardships of being young and unexpected encounters. Experience the tingling butterflies of a summer’s love unexpected, witness the significance one little mistake can have on the lives of others and feel the exciting sparks of a love so strong it could move mountains. Find out what it means to grow up, what it takes to find yourself and how to make the best out of your granted time on earth.” 1. Tequila Sunrise 2. Purple Rain 3. Orange Ginger Tea

Tequila Sunrise by borathae

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader Genre: s2l!AU, Diner!AU, Biker Gang!AU, Smut, Romance Chapters: 5/5 Summary: “You always thought of your life as nothing exciting. Small town, stable job at the local diner, a roof over your head and nice friends. It didn’t take much to make you happy. But that all changes with the arrival of Jeon Jungkook, mysterious biker with dark hair, inked skin and a preference for leather jackets. It doesn’t take long for you to realise that life has so much more in store for you and Jungkook is happy to show you all of it…”

2. Purple Rain by borathae

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader, Yoongi x Jimin Genre: Biker Gang!AU, Road Trip!AU, Smut, Romance, Hurt and Comfort Chapters: 29/29 Summary: “Two months on the road with Jungkook and his friends and you couldn’t be happier about your life. You spend your days laughing, dancing and rolling around the sheets with the boy of your dreams, all whilst visiting beautiful places. But your idyllic life soon changes, when Taehyungs past catches up with him, putting not only him, but your entire gang in danger. Can the group get through his betrayal and if so can you outrun the danger before it is too late?”

3. Orange Ginger Chai by borathae

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader, occasional Taehyung x f.Reader & Taehyung x Jungkook Genre: Smut, Fluff, slice of life!AU, established relationship!AU, domestic!AU, tattoo artist!Jungkook, restaurant owner!OC Chapters: 54/54 Summary: “Snippets out of the adventure, you and Jungkook call “your life together”. This is a collection of drabbles all in the name of The Cocktail Trilogy couple. They all play after the events of the main story.”

➺ Young One by bts-reveries

pairings: photographer, dad!jungkook x hostess, mom!reader genre: family, fluff, angst parts: 29/29 summary: Being the youngest, Jungkook had his fair share of parties, drinking, and wild nights. He didn’t think that this would have a different meaning to him so soon. Parties included two and three year olds, drinking was exclusively banana milk, and wild nights was when his son refused to sleep. He didn’t mind the change, having a son was a dream of his and wouldn’t change it for the world. But what happens when an old friend shows up, bringing Jungkook back to when life was easier and he had no responsibilities? Did Jungkook grow up too fast? 

➺ Ungodly Hour by explicit-tae

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Fluff, Smut, Jimin and reader are frenemies Parts: 9/9 + Drabbles Synopsis: That time you - a broke college student - were willing to do just about anything for a hulu account after your brother kicks you off of his - (and Jungkook would do anything to have you)

➺ The Love Prognosis by awrkive

pairing: surgeon!jk x surgeon! (fem)reader ft. corporate lawyer! mingyu genre: medical!au, rommates!au, f2l, fluff, smut, angst word count: 90.9k words (main story, excl. drabbles) summary: for as long as you can remember, you've always been a hopeless romantic. the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: random word prompts with subaru, haku, zenji, edward, rui, lyca, yuri, and jiro!

WARNINGS: in haku's part there is a wardrobe malfunction because of an anomaly. haku handles it but its there if that makes you uncomfy.

COMMENTS: the last installment!! all of these together was like 3k words whew

Subaru - Fall

How does someone trust another to the point that they can fall in love with them? Subaru doesn’t know the answer to that question. He worries he never will.

Every time he sees your face, it seems ridiculous to deny how much he cares for you. Your presence soothes him, it makes him happier. He loves eating lunch with you even though he has to beat back the thoughts of you two looking like a couple.

You reach over, amidst his thoughts, and wipe some sauce off of the corner of his lips.

And he nearly falls off the bench from the shock.

Haku - Emergency

When he said he was always down for helping you get undressed, this is not exactly what he meant.

Your school sanctioned blazer is in tatters and your school shirt is only a tad bit better. You’re trying to cover yourself as best as you can, looking utterly humiliated at how badly the anomaly scratched you up.

“Hey,” Haku breathes, dropping his jacket over your shoulders, “Let’s get you back to campus, okay?”

You cling to the jacket, wrapping it tightly around yourself as you nod.

Zenji - Percent

Zenji’s translucent hand hangs in the air, his fingers slightly separated. His palm is trembling, fingers somewhat bent. You take a deep breath and bring your hand up to his.

For a moment, your fingertips touch.

It doesn’t feel like being doused in cold water. It feels like a soft spring breeze that smells of flowers. That brief moment is lost when the rest of your palm drifts right through his.

It’s progress.

“You’re a little bit more solid now.” you conclude, and Zenji absolutely lights up.

Edward - Shock

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” you shriek.

Edward’s upper half has popped out of the floor right at your feet, a goofy smirk on his face. For someone who was genuinely impressive during your last mission, you find yourself realizing why Rui considers him a true pain in the ass.

“Good morning,” Edward rests his head on his palm, “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“You are unbelievable.” you scoot around him, shaking your head as you walk away.

“You look even more lovely!” he croons after you.

You fight your smile.

Rui - Steam

You wish you could touch him.

It’s unfair that this is the most you can do for him—drawing him a bath with candles and essential oils and the works. It’s so unfair that you can’t wash his back or lather the shampoo in his hair.

“I wish you could relax more.” you lament.

I wish I could touch you.

Rui, to his credit, just smiles at you.

“You’ve done more than enough for little old me,” he says, “You always do.”

You want to hug him but you stay where you are. Instead, you smile in return.

Lyca - Listen

It’s lovely watching him talk. He goes on and on about the things he’s excited about, using his hands to explain the things he doesn’t quite understand. He gets frustrated when he can’t get an idea across but lets it go when you place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Subaru watches on with a soft smile as you bond with Lyca. It really is lovely to see two of his friends getting along so well.

It’s even lovelier when you laugh, throwing your head back and beaming. Lyca looks so happy when he makes you do that, leaning closer to absorb every inch of your joyous face.

It’s beautiful, to witness affection bloom like that.

Yuri - Gold

Sunlight makes his hair look like ocean waves. You can’t help but stare, even when he calls you out for doing so with a blush on his face. It’s not your fault he looks so pretty, dressed in his casual wear.

It’s not your fault he looks so good in green.

Your eyes fall to his ring finger, imagining a golden wedding band wrapped around it. Yuri blushes and tucks his palm closer to his body, mostly likely thinking that you’d like to hold his hand.

It’s alright. You know better than to grab without asking. And besides, that’s not exactly the reason you were staring in the first place.

Jiro - Stress

“I made you something.” he murmurs.

You turn around in your chair as Jiro lumbers over to you, a small box clasped in his hands. He sets it down on your desk, staring down at your work with a blank expression.

“You’re working hard,” he says.

“Thank you for the gift,” you say in return.

Jiro grunts in acknowledgement before turning away, leaving you to your assignments once again.

[lsunstreakerl]

lewis and nico having to come pick up max after hes been railed by daniel

more extreme catboy proofing measures are needed

the people have spoken... more catboy max! this isn't technically a kink prompt fill since it's more like the aftermath than anything else, and I might write a small lil follow up of what exactly the new catboy proofing measures are, but for now I give you 1.2k words!

it's not really explicit but it might as well be.

pairings: implied daniel ricciardo/max verstappen

relevant heads up: people/animal hybrids as pets, implied marathon sex, max-shaming

Lewis tucks his phone back into his back pocket, shoulders slumping in relief. Nico looks at him from where he's been pacing a hole into their living room floor.

"He got into Carlos's apartment."

"Oh thank God-"

It really is one of the best options- Max hadn't wandered very far at all, and he's not lost or hurt or kidnapped somewhere in Monte-Carlo. Lewis had been thinking about it nonstop since they realized Max wasn't home and found the open balcony window- the idea of him being cold and alone on the street making him sick with worry.

Max doesn't have an ounce of self-preservation in his body. Lewis and Nico have joked about how he possibly survived as a stray before the shelter- he's too spoiled, too needy, too attached to bedtime cuddles.

Lewis pauses, because something Carlos had said is nagging at him- an apology about Daniel's behavior.

"He did apologize for Daniel though."

Nico raises an eyebrow as he slides his shoes on.

"Why is he apologizing for Danny? He's a sweetheart."

Lewis shrugs, snagging his keys as they both leave the flat, journeying downstairs to Carlos's place.

He's still mulling it over as he knocks, and Carlos answers the door with a slightly sheepish expression, Daniel perking up from the couch. He's as bright eyed as always, tail a blurry mess as he bounds over.

"Danny, couch. You're in enough trouble already."

Daniel slinks back to the couch, curling up. Carlos swings the door wider.

"Please, come in- I really am sorry, I was not home today or I would have prevented it."

Now Lewis is a bit worried. Daniel's not violent, but Max is- he's bratty on a good day, might have accidentally antagonized Daniel.

"He's not hurt, is he?"

Nico sounds equally worried, eyes scanning over the room to try and spot Max.

Carlos shakes his head.

"I don't think so? I mean, he was very lethargic by the time I got home, so I do not know how he is normally. I have not had a cat before."

Lethargic? Lewis is thinking, trying to put things together- Max got out, Max visited Daniel, Max was missing for several hours before Carlos got home, and now he's lethargic and Carlos is apologizing.

Carlos makes a slight face.

"Is he spayed?"

Oh.

Lewis smacks his palm into his face, and Nico groans behind him.

"Oh my God."

Lewis feels the same.

"Yes, he's spayed. Shelter policy."

Carlos looks relieved, running a hand through his hair.

"Okay, that is good, because- I would have been slightly concerned otherwise."

Lewis scrubs his palm down his face, feeling fondly exasperated. Of course.

Dumb cat- he's probably cum drunk out of his mind right now, no wonder Carlos called him lethargic. Max goes stupid as soon as he's got something inside of him, and Daniel has a lot of energy.

Carlos lets them into his home office, easing open the door.

"Sorry about putting him up, I just did not want to risk anything, and Danny is not very good about being shut in."

Max is curled in a ball on the couch, blanket carefully tucked in around him.

His tail peeks out of the edge, but he doesn't give any indication that he's noticed they're there- he's wiped out.

Nico makes a soft cooing noise, crouching near his head. He's a softie.

"Oh, Maxy. Did you bite off more than you could chew?"

He's running his fingers gently over Max's ears, and they start twitching under his hand as Max cracks his eyes open, making an absolutely pathetic whimper when he realizes it's Nico. He shoves his head further into Nico's hand.

Lewis sighs, crouching next to him. The way Max's pupils dilate when he sees them both is sweeter than he'd like to admit, but still-

"You're ridiculous, Max."

Nico snorts softly next to him as Lewis continues, tone fond but still reprimanding.

"Do you know how worried we were? I thought you were out on the street, and instead you're three floors down, because you decided you wanted to be a fucktoy for the neighbors dog instead of staying inside."

Max just blinks at him.

And then he starts purring, shifting towards Lewis, and he knows he's not going to get anywhere. He sighs again, but it's more so to make a point as he cards a hand through Max's hair, scratching gently behind his ears.

Carlos clears his throat quietly.

"I did not know how you both wanted to handle it, or how you felt about it, so I have not- I did not give him a bath or anything. But you might want to."

Nico rolls his eyes as he lightly flicks the edge of Max's ear.

"We'll get right on that. Lewis, you're lifting him."

"Why is it always me?"

Lewis complains but he doesn't really care, folding Max tighter in the blanket before lifting him, keeping him close to his chest.

Max whines as the movement jostles him, and Carlos reaches over to gently pet at him.

"Sorry again about Daniel- you can keep the blanket."

"No worries man, it's practically self-inflicted. Hopefully he's learned his lesson."

Lewis is hoping that's the case, but he's not exactly optimistic. Max is both extremely intelligent and also the dumbest creature Lewis has ever met.

They walk back out through the living room, and Daniel perks up as Lewis walks past, but Max lets out the loudest, most annoyed meow Lewis has ever heard from him.

Nico bursts into laughter ahead of him, turning back around to look at Max in Lewis's arms. Lewis is fighting his own giggles, because he hasn't seen Max look this fed up ever.

"What, you don't want to stay with Danny and Carlos?"

Another meow. Max is usually vocal, but he's not usually loud, and Lewis drops a kiss between his ears as he laughs.

Max is giving him an affronted look, and Lewis tucks his face into his hair, giggling as he's walking them towards the door.

"Sorry sweetheart- but it's kind of your own fault."

Carlos waves at them, and Nico shouts a halfhearted goodbye before the door shuts.

Max stays quiet in Lewis's arms for the trip back upstairs, nose pressed into the curve as his neck as he softly purrs.

Nico holds the door open for them both back into the flat before disappearing into the bathroom, and Lewis hears the water start up, filling the tub.

Max makes another noise into his neck, ears flattening. He's not a huge fan of baths- doesn't mind them once he's in, but the process of getting there is always a bit of a nightmare.

Lewis huffs.

"Maxwell Hamilton-Rosberg, you are getting a bath. I don't care how you feel about it, you've been outside."

Nico pops his head out of the bathroom door.

"Also, you're full of cum, in case you've already forgotten today's adventures."

Lewis rolls his eyes as he walks them into the bathroom, and Nico starts unwrapping Max from the blanket.

"Oh, you are a mess. Good grief, did you get any breaks?"

Max makes another pitiful noise, clinging to Lewis. He's deliberately not looking at the tub.

Lewis sighs. He has designer pants on, but Max has no concept of that, so he's going to have to get them wet and water stained.

He'll send their dry cleaner a tip.

He steps carefully into the tub, ignoring the way Nico snickers at his face as he feels his pant leg get wet.

Max clings tighter to Lewis, nails gripping into his shoulders. It's the beginning of the end- a telltale sign he's about to be difficult.

"Max."

Nico laughs, because he's evil and unhelpful.

"I've got a phone call to make, now that I think about it..."

"Don't you dare."

[artstennisracket]

i neeeeed artrick dom/sub dynamic in my life. art and pat own each other in such a unique way and i feel like that translates over to intimacy as well. not necessarily in a way where one is always in charge, i think it kinda goes both ways. i’m not articulating this well but still

i trust you to get the vision.

i’m picking up what ur putting down anon😉, I hope you likeeeee :)

cw: dom/sub undertones but now that im really looking at it idek if i did this prompt correctly😭 and there’s no smut in this

*just realized this prompt literally states intimacy im so sorry anon I will work on a part 2

Patrick and Art have a been a package deal since they started the academy. After they became roommates that fateful day, they’ve been inseparable.

Most people would describe their relationship as…honestly pretty gay tbh. But Art and Patrick didn’t have to explain themselves to anyone. Sure they cuddled to go to sleep sometimes, and maybe there were like two times (ten times) they’ve masturbated together. Other than that they consider themselves your stereotypical best friends.

But there was certain dynamics in play. Of course they were subliminal, never outspoken. Art and Patrick had a very unique understanding of each other that transcended verbal communication.

There was a time when Art was being really indecisive of what shirt he wanted to wear to go see his girlfriend later. He was wearing his tiny little briefs, damp curls sticking to his forehead. He felt like he had gone through every single shirt he owned but none of them felt good enough.

Patrick walked out the bathroom, observing the mess Art had made with his clothes everywhere. Patrick smirked as he walked over to their bed picking up a blue polo and holding it up for Art.

“wear this one,” Patrick tilts his head to the side like he’s trying to envision Art wearing the shirt, “brings out your eyes.”

Now what the fuck does Patrick know about fashion. Art scoffs, “yeah sure, whatever,” as he pulls the polo on over his head.

Art can be really indecisive at times, his mind running 10 miles a minute. Now every time he starts to spiral, overthinking about what he should wear, Patrick will just pick his clothes out for him. Even though Art would always make a dismissive remark about how he can pick his own clothes, he did really appreciate Patrick doing it for him. Sometimes he really just needed someone to make a decision for him but he’d never say that out loud. Especially when they had to pick places to go out to eat it was like pulling teeth.

“i don’t know where i wanna go man, i’m good with whatever.” Art shrugs.

Patrick groans, “that doesn’t fucking help, there’s a million places we could go and i know if I suggest something you don’t like you’re just going to complain.”

Art lets out an exasperated sigh falling back onto their bed, “can you please just pick something for me?”

Now that was a first. Art never usually just says he wants Patrick to choose. Maybe it’s because they just shared a joint. Since he was nice enough to ask, Patrick indulges and drives them to get subs at the nearest sandwich shop.

Patrick picked up on how indecisive Art actually is years ago and sometimes he’ll tease Art about it, but he always ends up giving in and making the decision when he knows Art can’t. That means that almost anytime they go out to eat Patrick has to choose. Even when they eat in the cafeteria and Art can’t decide between a chicken sandwich and pizza, Patrick chooses for him. And in return Art would order extra of whatever he’s eating so that Patrick could have some too.

Patrick was like a black hole. He could eat an entire box of pizza if it came down to it. Art didn’t really care because he doesn’t always finish his own food so he’d give the rest to Patrick. That way there’s no waste. Or when Art takes the pickles off his burger, Patrick would be right there ready to eat them up.

So even though Art never expresses appreciation verbally, Patrick knew deep down Art did appreciate it and would go with whatever decision Patrick would make.

There were also times when Patrick needed Art too though.

Patrick wasn’t the best at time management. Between practice and school, sometimes he would forgot to study or do his homework on time. But if his grades fall below a B he won’t be able to do tennis anymore, so Art made sure that wouldn’t happen.

They had a system where Art wouldn’t speak to Patrick until all his work was finished (unless he needed help with it). It was hard at first.

“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” Patrick asks, dropping his backpack onto the floor.

Art nods from where he’s sitting on their bed reading a book.

Patrick scoffs before he toes off his shoes. He climbs onto their bed snatching Art’s book from him. “c’mon its just homework blondie, i promise i can get it done without the silent treatment”

Art looks at him, raising one eyebrow before he shakes his head no, crossing his arms over his chest.

Patrick smirks pointing to himself, “really? you’re gonna say no to this face?”

Art scoffs laughing and nods again as he messes up Patrick’s hair and pushes his head away.

Patrick groans getting off the bed to make his way to his desk and setting up his homework.

It wasn’t ideal but it was the only way Art could get him to actually do his homework. If Patrick can’t get distracted talking a mile a minute, then he could focus on homework. No video games, no TV, no leaving, just Patrick and his homework.

It took Patrick so long to adjust to but eventually it started working like a charm. Patrick would be done with his homework within the hour and everything could go back to normal.

Going home for break was always rough for them since being apart was difficult. But it was particularly rough for Patrick because going home meant being in the same place as his father.

Patrick had been fighting with his father for as long as he can remember. Always standing up for himself since nobody else would. He wasn’t sure why his dad always hated him without reason but after Patrick’s sister had outed him to their parents after he confided in her in confidence, his dad had made it his personal mission to make Patrick very aware how he feels about Patrick’s “lifestyle choices”.

So going home was hell, especially when Art couldn’t come home with him. Art’s grandma’s birthday was coming up and Art’s parents wanted to go visit her so Art had decided to go home for break instead of going with Patrick.

Art was no stranger to receiving calls from Patrick about his dad, it happened every single time they went home for any type of break during school. Most times it was Patrick being very angry and Art would calm him down so Patrick wouldn’t doing anything rash. Other times it was Patrick on the brink of tears over something disrespectful his dad said to him.

Over the course of break, Patrick would get into multiple screaming matches his dad and every single time he would find himself on the phone with Art shortly after. Confiding in Art so he wouldn’t have a breakdown every time. But there was a particular fight that put Patrick over the edge.

ring ring

“hey man, what’s up?” Art asks.

Patrick goes to start his sentence but can feel himself on the brink of tears. He didn’t want to cry right now. He takes a deep breath, his voice wavering, “i can’t stay here anymore.”

Art can hear the hurt in Patrick’s voice and his face visibly softens. His takes a beat before he says, “what did he do?”

Patrick looks up to his ceiling, blinking back the tears that threaten to escape, “i cant—,” his voice cracks, “i don’t want to stay where im not wanted. you didn’t see the way—” and that’s all it really take for the flood gates to open. Patrick is crying full force now because all he can think about is how much his dad actually hates him.

Before it was more subtle but now it was outright. In their last fight his dad had ended it by saying, and if you think i’m going to ever publicly support having a faggot son you got another thing coming. as a matter of fact, i don’t even have a son at all anymore. get out of my sight.

It wasn’t even the words that broke Patrick, it was the way his dad looked at him. A lot of emotions were written across his face like anger and disgust, but his eyes? It was as if he was looking through Patrick, like Patrick didn’t exist. Like he didn’t care if Patrick lived or died. Like he was nothing.

“art i cant— i just cant stay here.” Patrick chokes out between sobs.

“hey, hey, its okay. do you want me to come? you can stay with us for the rest of break.” Art responds softly. Luckily they only live about 4 hours away from each other. But Art has already started driving speeding from the second Patrick called him so there’s maybe about 3 and a half hours left to go.

Patrick nods forgetting Art cant see him. He sniffles, “please.”

“m’ already on my way but we can stay on the phone until i get there. but now im gonna need you to do something for me. can you take some deep breaths for me?”

Patrick nods again, using his hands to wipe the tears from his face. They take a few deep breaths together, Art coaching Patrick through it and counting out loud.

“you did a really good job, now i want you to drink some water and pack your stuff okay?”

Patrick packed his bag and they stayed on the phone until Art came and picked him up. Art would listen to Patrick rant about his dad a thousand times over if it meant Patrick would actually feel even the tiniest bit better afterwards. But he would always be there for Patrick no matter what. He would walk though hell and back if it meant Patrick would be okay.

When they got back to Art’s house Art made sure to do everything he could to turn Patrick’s brain off so he wouldn’t think about his dad anymore. They played video games, watched movies, and ordered food.

That night they cuddled in Art’s bed. Patrick’s head rested on Art’s chest while Art mindlessly played with Patrick’s curls until he fell asleep.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

First off let me start with. I am so happy that I found your blog. The writing you do is so amazing the details that you put in stories really make me feel like I’m there. You are such an amazing writer. ❤️❤️❤️ Can you please bring my thought to life. Sebastian sallow x reader. They have been friends for since 5th year. The reader has fallen in love with him over the years and it the last day of the 7th year the reader and Sebastian are laying in out by the black lake just talking about different things and reminiscing about different memories over the years then they are quiet just looking at each other in a peaceful state and Sebastian slowly start moving closer like a magnet is pulling him in. He kisses the reader and pulls away quickly and starts apologizing profusely but the reader just shuts him up by pulling him back in to the kiss

Memory Lane | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Thank you so, so much for your support and for such a lovely compliment, I'm just... AH I'm so flattered ;.;

This prompt really inspired me, and I really enjoyed expanding this out. Like this is just... ah, SO many feels! Like I felt so wistful and nostalgic writing this, but then it was so fluffy and sweet, and then there is of course, a happy ending just like you asked!

thank you for the wonderful idea and for trusting me with it!!!

Words: ~3,500

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Fluff, Fluff Again, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Coming of Age

The sun hung low over the Black Lake, casting everything in hues of gold, the water reflecting back a shimmering version of the sky. A warm breeze rolled across the grass, stirring the trees at the water’s edge, and carrying with it the promise of change.

Sebastian stretched out on the grass, hands tucked behind his head, staring up at the sky. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you had been out here. An hour? Maybe two? Time moved differently today—slipping between his fingers even as he tried to hold onto it.

He turned his head slightly to glance at you, to trace the way the late afternoon sunlight kissed your skin, turning you golden at the edges. You had pulled your legs up slightly, bare feet grazing the grass, one hand resting lightly against your stomach, the other mindlessly toying with blades of grass.

You were wearing that pretty blue sundress—the one you had worn a handful of times over the years, usually on Hogsmeade weekends when the weather was nice. It clung to you in the way it always had. But for once, Sebastian wasn’t thinking about how it framed the plush curves of your body, how the neckline dipped just enough to make him forget himself. No—right now, all he could think about was what it meant.

Your wand was nowhere in sight. No uniform, either. No more robes, no more house colors, no more tie knotted at your throat. Because there was no need for them anymore.

It was such a simple thing, and yet his stomach twisted.

It’s over.

This place, these moments—the quiet stretches between classes, the familiar scrape of chairs in the Great Hall, the Undercroft filled with whispered plans and spells flickering in the dark—it was all slipping away, vanishing like smoke curling from a snuffed-out flame.

And you—Merlin, you—would walk out of the castle tomorrow, just like he would, and he had no idea what happened after that.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured.

Sebastian exhaled a laugh through his nose, trying to shove the feeling down. “That’s twice today you’ve pointed that out.”

You hummed, amused but unconvinced. “It’s rare.”

He felt you shift, propping yourself up on your elbows. When he glanced over, your were studying him the way you always did—curious, observant, like you could see straight through him to the things he wasn’t saying.

Sebastian rolled onto his side. “Alright,” he said, forcing some levity into his voice. “What’s your best memory of the last three years?”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s a hard question.”

“I’ll allow a top three, if you’re struggling.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Generous of you.”

“I try.”

You glanced up at the sky, thinking, as your fingers tapped against your stomach, the warm breeze teasing strands of your hair across your face. “Alright… let's see…" you hummed thoughtfully, a smile pulling on your lips. "Well, I'll never forget that night at the Three Broomsticks last year."

Sebastian’s brows lifted, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh, that night?”

You hummed, amused. “You know exactly which one I mean.”

He did.

He could still see the dim candlelight, smell the rich scent of butterbeer mingling with firewhiskey, hear the warmth of your laughter cutting through the noisy hum of the crowded tavern.

It had started off as a Saturday spent in Hogsmeade, nothing particularly special about it at first. Just the usual browsing through shops and eating too much candy. That night, the two of you snuck off to the Three Broomsticks long after curfew, claiming your usual booth near the back where you could talk in peace.

But that night had spiraled into something else entirely.

Sebastian could still see the flush on your cheeks, hear the unrestrained laughter spilling from your lips after he, five drinks in, had stood on his chair and, with absolutely no shame, started belting out a horribly off-key rendition of Odo the Hero.

The entire tavern had turned to watch. Patrons had been egging him on, slamming their fists against the table in time with the beat. And you?

You had tried—really tried—to keep a straight face, but the moment Sebastian dramatically grabbed a butterbeer bottle as a makeshift microphone and turned to you, winking mid-chorus, you had completely lost it, howling with laughter, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, Sebastian had thought, this is it. This was the moment he wanted to live in forever. Just this. You, beside him, always.

Of course, the moment had ended rather abruptly when the bartender had finally had enough, marching over and dragging him off the chair by the collar of his robe.

Now, lying beside you in the grass, Sebastian stared at your profile, watching the way you smiled softly at the memory.

"Certainly one of my best vocal performances, wouldn't you say?" he mused.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Sebastian, you forgot half the lyrics and improvised the rest.”

“I made it better.”

“You rhymed ‘hero’ with ‘butterbeer-o.’”

“Creative license.”

You laughed, and Sebastian swore he felt the sound of it in his ribs. Light and warm and real.

"One of mine," he said after a beat, "is when we when we snuck out to the Astronomy Tower in sixth year."

Your lips twitched, eyes still fixed on the sky. “You mean when we stole a telescope."

Sebastian huffed a laugh, propping himself up on his elbow. “Borrowed a telescope. With every intention of returning it.”

You turned to him, amusement dancing in your gaze despite your dry tone. “It’s still in the Undercroft.”

“Is it?” He feigned surprise, lips quirking. “How irresponsible of us.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I still can’t believe we didn’t get caught that night.”

Sebastian couldn't either.

He had always been good at slipping past prefects, at charming his way out of trouble when necessary. But that night had been different.

That night, you had pulled him by the hand through the castle, your laughter echoing in the empty corridors, and for once, he hadn’t been thinking about getting caught.

He had been thinking about you.

About the way your fingers had laced through his so easily, the way your smile had glowed under the moonlight when you finally reached the top of the tower.

He remembered the way you had sat cross-legged beside him, chin resting in your palm as you peered through the pilfered telescope, murmuring about constellations in that soft, content way you always did when it was just you and him.

But Sebastian had barely looked through the telescope that night. Couldn’t have cared less about the stars. Because, for him, the moment hadn’t been about what was in the sky. It had been about the way you had leaned against him, absentmindedly close. The way the night had felt endless, the two of you murmuring about everything and nothing, the warmth of your shoulder pressed into his. The way he had wanted to kiss you then—so badly, it had hurt.

And yet, he hadn’t.

Because he hadn’t been sure. Hadn’t been sure if what he wanted was something you wanted, too.

Now, looking at you, a year later, the last golden light of the evening painting you in soft warmth, he wondered if he had been an idiot.

No—he knew he had been an idiot.

"We probably should bring it back," you continued, letting out a sigh. "You know, before we leave and nobody even knows the Undercroft exists."

"Or," he said with a smirk, "we could leave it there. A relic for some unsuspecting student to stumble upon in a hundred years. Let them wonder why a perfectly good telescope was abandoned in a hidden room beneath the castle."

You snorted. "They'll probably assume it's cursed."

Sebastian smirked. "Even better."

That earned him a soft laugh, and he closed his eyes, letting the sound of it settle into his chest.

Then, after a moment—

"Alright," he murmured, voice quieter now. "Your next memory?"

You hesitated for a moment before answering, your voice dipping into something softer, something thoughtful.

"The day we met," you said finally. "Fifth year. My first Defense Against the Dark Arts class."

Sebastian huffed a quiet laugh; he’d never forget that day.

He had noticed you the second you stepped into the classroom—new, unfamiliar, carrying yourself with a quiet confidence that masked the careful way you took in the room. Assessing. Measuring. Cautious, but not uncertain. And gorgeous.

Everyone had been curious about you—the new student arriving in the middle of their education, something that almost never happened at Hogwarts. The murmurs had started before Hecat even entered the room, speculation thick in the air.

Sebastian had been curious, too. Not that he would have admitted it.

And then, you were paired off for a duel. With him.

Sebastian had smirked, rolling his shoulders as he stepped onto the platform, self-assured as ever. He had never lost a duel before.

And then—within seconds—everything changed.

Because you weren’t just skilled.

You were dangerous.

You met every spell he cast with effortless precision, deflecting with ease, dodging before he had even finished casting. And when you struck back, it was fast—calculated, efficient. He barely had time to block before you broke through his defenses.

And then, with one perfectly timed sidestep and a flick of your wand, his own was ripped from his grip.

It clattered to the floor. Silence filled the room. Sebastian had just stared. Stunned. Disarmed.

Beaten.

And after that? He had spent years trying to reclaim that loss.

It had become a ritual—Sebastian versus you, in class, at Crossed Wands, in secret training sessions that stretched long into the night.

And yet, after all that time, after dueling exams and real combat experience, he had never managed to best you.

Not once. Not even now, when he was the one becoming an Auror.

"You know," Sebastian muttered playfully, "I will get you back for that first duel."

You turned your head toward him, amusement flickering in your gaze. "Oh? Still holding onto that loss, are we?"

Sebastian smirked, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. "I’ve just been biding my time. Waiting for the perfect moment to take my revenge."

You let out a soft hum, lips twitching. "So what I’m hearing is that you’ve spent the last three years failing to beat me and now you need a dramatically timed rematch to soothe your ego?"

Sebastian scoffed, squinting up at you. "It’s not ego—it’s justice. Balance. The universe can’t just allow you to get away with this forever."

You grinned, shifting so you were mirroring his position, laying beside him. "And tell me, oh-Auror-to-be, when exactly do you plan to reclaim your honor?"

Sebastian opened his mouth, ready to quip back, but something about the way you were looking at him made the words catch in his throat.

The waning golden light clung to you, soft and warm, making the edges of you glow. Your expression still held traces of amusement, but beneath it, there was something quieter, something weightier—like you were trying to memorize the moment, like you knew it was slipping away too fast. Just like he knew it was slipping away too fast.

Sebastian felt it like a stone in his chest, heavy and sinking.

His smirk faltered.

"Tomorrow," he said. "We can have our rematch then."

And he needed you to agree. Because tomorrow, you wouldn’t be here. Tomorrow, you would walk out of these castle gates, out into the world, and after that—after that, he had no idea what would happen.

Sure, you’d promised each other a million times that nothing would change. That you’d write, that you’d visit, that you’d always make time.

But promises were easy. Promises were words spoken in stolen moments when the future still felt distant, when the weight of goodbye hadn’t yet settled into your bones.

And Sebastian knew—he knew—that the world had a way of pulling people apart, no matter how much they swore it wouldn’t.

That was what he was afraid of.

Because after tomorrow, there was no routine. No house tables in the Great Hall. No sitting beside you in class, no sneaking into the Undercroft, no excuse to find you. After tomorrow, the only thing tethering you to each other would be choice.

Would you choose him? Would you make time for him? Or would the days slip by, growing longer and longer between the times he saw you, until one day you were nothing more than a distant memory, a name on a letter, a familiar voice fading into something far away?

You turned your head toward him, your gaze steady, unreadable at first. And then—slowly, softly—you smiled.

"Alright," you murmured. "Tomorrow."

Sebastian’s chest tightened.

His throat felt thick, too tight, like if he tried to say anything, the words would catch and betray everything he wasn’t ready to admit. So instead, he forced himself to look away, dragging his gaze from the warmth of your expression and back to the sky above—the same sky that had once been brilliantly blue was now dimming into twilight.

Time was slipping.

The sun had set. The stars were taking its place. And tomorrow was one step closer.

Sebastian had spent years running toward the future—chasing after it, desperate to shape it into something he could control. Always planning, always scheming, always moving forward.

But now, he wanted to stop. He wanted to hold onto tonight, stretch it out indefinitely, keep you here beside him just a little longer.

Sebastian swallowed against the ache in his throat. "Alright," he said, voice quieter now. "Your last one. Your best memory."

You hesitated, just for a second, and then—

"This."

Sebastian turned his head sharply, meeting your gaze.

Your face was close, too close, your eyes warm but certain, no hesitation in them. You said it as if it were obvious, as if there were no other answer you could have possibly given even though this wasn’t nostalgia. This wasn’t a distant memory you could reminisce about years from now.

This was now.

Sebastian blinked.

"What... but— but that's not how this works."

"Why not?"

"Because—" He gestured vaguely between the two of you, grasping for words, for something solid to hold onto. "You’re supposed to pick something that already happened, not—" He broke off, exhaling sharply, because you were still looking at him like that.

Like you were waiting for him to understand. Like he was being dense.

"Sebastian," you murmured, and your voice was softer now, patient, like you were leading him toward something he should have seen all along. "I could have picked any number of things. Our duels. Quidditch matches. Sneaking through the castle after curfew. Or even that time you nearly got us eaten by a very territorial hippogriff—"

"That was not my fault—"

"But the thing is," you cut in, smiling, "those memories don’t stand out just because they were exciting, or dangerous, or something we weren’t supposed to be doing." Your smile softened. "They stand out because of you."

Sebastian blinked, caught off guard.

"It doesn’t matter if it was something thrilling, or reckless, or quiet—like right now," you continued. "It’s not about what we were doing. It’s about who I was with."

His throat went dry.

You held his gaze, unwavering. "Because as long as it’s with you, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. It’s always going to be my favorite memory."

Sebastian felt something shift inside him, like the air had been knocked from his lungs. Because he knew, knew, you weren’t just talking about the past.

You were talking about tomorrow. And every day after. You were telling him—without a single doubt in your voice—that you weren’t going anywhere. That you had already chosen him.

The silence stretched, and he stared. Openly. Unapologetically. In a way he never had before—never let himself before.

Because suddenly, all of it—all the stress, all the gnawing uncertainty, all the weight of tomorrow that had been pressing down on his chest for weeks—just... lifted.

Like the world had let him breathe again. Like the twilight wasn’t a countdown anymore, wasn’t a time bomb ticking away the last moments of something he couldn’t bear to lose.

It was something else now.

It was the eve of something new. Something just beginning. With you.

And Merlin, wasn’t that all he had ever wanted?

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized—

He had been leaning in.

Slowly, unconsciously, like something inevitable had already set itself in motion.

Merlin, you were closer now, and Sebastian's fingers twitched against the grass. He should say something. Should tell you everything he’s always felt.

But words felt useless, pointless when your lips were so close to his, when he could feel your breaths mingling with his own, and before he could second-guess himself, before he could hesitate—

He closed the distance.

His lips met yours.

And everything else ceased to exist.

Because God, the way you felt—

Soft and warm, lips pliant beneath his, tasting faintly of honeyed cream, still sweet from the slice of cake you’d shared earlier in the Great Hall.

And fuck, he wanted more.

More of this, more of you—more of the way your lips parted ever so slightly beneath his, more of the way his heart was slamming against his ribs like it had been waiting for this moment all along.

But then—

What the hell was he doing?

His eyes snapped open. His breath caught in his throat. His fingers twitched against your cheek, and then, before he could think, before he could stop himself—

He jerked back.

His breath came fast, chest rising and falling as though he had just run across the entire castle. His hands were still hovering midair, like they had just now realized they no longer had anything to hold onto.

His mind was blank. Then racing. Then blank again.

"Shit."

His stomach dropped, panic clawing up his throat.

"I—Merlin, I’m sorry," he blurted out, voice higher, breathless. "I shouldn’t have—bloody hell, I didn’t mean to—"

You blinked at him, still dazed, lips parted, breath unsteady.

And Sebastian was spiraling.

Shit. Shit.

What had he just done?

He had kissed you.

You.

"That was—" He exhaled sharply, raking both hands down his face. "That was out of order—I wasn’t thinking, I—"

"Sebastian."

"I just—I don’t know what I was—" He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "I mean, I do know, but I wasn’t thinking, and now—now it’s—"

"Sebastian."

You were sitting up now, eyes locked onto him, but he was still spiraling, still freaking out because—

"I—bloody hell, I’m sorry, I—"

You grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him back in.

Sebastian barely had time to register what was happening before your lips crashed into his, firm, unwavering, silencing every frantic thought in his head in an instant.

He made a startled noise in the back of his throat, but then—then he melted.

Because there was no hesitation now. No doubt.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

And fuck, did he want you too.

His hands shot to your waist, gripping the fabric of your dress, pulling you closer, desperate to make up for the lost seconds he had spent panicking.

The kiss was deeper this time, hungrier, something that tasted like relief. Like finally.

Your hands fisted in the front of his shirt, anchoring yourself against him, and Merlin, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he had ever felt in his life. The need, the want in it—like you couldn’t bear the thought of letting go either.

And when you finally pulled back for air, just enough for your forehead to rest against his, your lips still brushing his, you smiled.

"I lied," you whispered, voice warm, steady. "I think this might be the best memory."

Sebastian let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh, his grip on you tightening.

"You," he started, voice hoarse, eyes flickering down to your lips, "are going to be the death of me."

"I don’t mind being your final act," you murmured, teasing but with something real beneath it.

And that—fuck, that—

Sebastian didn’t stand a chance.

[queenmuzz]

Zea Ingellvar’s Codex

Based off this prompt. I will attempt to put one out each day

5 . A conversation overheard between Rook and a companion

“Hey Davrin, I’ve got a hypothetical question for you.”

‘Uh, okay, what’s on your mind, Rook?’

“Let’s say someone you care about is about to attempt something that if it goes wrong, it may kill them, but even if successful, will change them permanently.  Do you openly support them?  Stay quiet?  Try to change their mind?”

‘By ‘someone you care about’, do we mean a family member?  Friend?’

“Uh… friend… close friend”

‘Uh-huuuh, sure.  So, does this friend know the risks?’

“Oh, yes, he-I mean, THEY have been well aware of the consequences, but they’ve been working towards this for over half their life.”

‘But you disagree.’

“No, not disagree.  Honestly, what they’re going for.  I know they’ll be great at it, that of all the people in the world, I think they are the best at it. It’s just-“

‘That whole ‘they could die’ thing’

“Yeah, that is something I’m terrified about.”

‘I get you, Wardens have something quite similar, not that I am at liberty to talk about it, but yeah, I could understand why you’d be hesitant to let them do it. If I knew close friend was about to attempt it, I'd be hesitant on supporting them, knowing what I do now.’

“Honestly, I think they’ve prepared enough that the chance of dying is almost impossible, but my main worry is actually very… selfish.”

‘Huh?’

“It’s what happens to them afterwards.  The way they’ve described it, it’ll change their perception of well… everything.  Life. Death. Spirits.  Time itself.  The flow and ebb of magic that even an accomplished mage couldn’t sense. I want them to accomplish this, it’s been their dream, and I know they are probably the best person in all of Thedas to put that power to good use but… what does that make me?  Does that make what we have seem… insignificant?  Will they even care about me after they change?”

‘Rook… You want my honest opinion?’

“Of course, that’s why I asked you specifically, you don’t mince words.  That’s why I appreciate you and Taash”

‘I think… you’re getting worried over nothing.  If he cares for you right now, no amount of mystical ritual or opening up his senses would change that.  It’s built into him, and taking that away would mean he’s become a completely different person.  And the way you describe it, who he is isn’t going to change with this, he’s just going to be able to feel more.  

Uh… hypothetically speaking’

“Yes…  hypothetically.  Thank you, Davrin.”

‘No problem… wait, is that Manfred… eavesdropping on us?’

[hayatheauthor]

20 Flirty Remarks to Build Romantic Tension Without Being Overbearing

Feeling stuck trying to give your characters a good flirty one-liner that doesn't sound cringe/overdone? Here are 20 ideas/dialogue prompts for you (that I may or may not have stolen from my own books): 

“I must warn you: you have a dangerous effect on my heart rate.” / "You have no idea what you're doing to my heart right now."

"If I said I wasn’t thinking about you, I’d be lying. And I’m a terrible liar."

"You know, I could get lost in those eyes, but I'd probably trip over my words trying to find my way back." (could also double as description/inner monologue).

“I can’t tell if you’re really charming or if I’m just easily charmed.”

“You have a knack for making me forget what I was going to say. It’s kind of impressive/infuriating.”

“I think you owe me a drink. When I saw you, I dropped mine.”

“I’ve been trying to find the perfect excuse to hang out, but I keep forgetting everything when I’m around you.”

“I bet you get away with a lot of trouble with that smile.”

“You must be a magician because every time you walk in, everyone else disappears.” (The right character could pull it off I swear)

"I’ve been trying to think of something clever to say, but all my brain can come up with is how much I want to (kiss) you."

"I saw that little glance—you’re not as sneaky as you think."

"How do you manage to make even the most mundane things sound exciting?"

"You do this cute thing with your hands when you’re nervous, you know?"

“One more word, and I might just have to kiss you.”

"Finally, there's that pretty smile of yours. I've been waiting for it all day."

"You keep staring—should I be flattered?" / "Keep looking at me like that and I might start thinking you have a crush on me."

"Do you have any idea how fun it is to watch you try to keep a straight face?"

"I’m pretty sure you could charm the socks off anyone, but I’d like to keep mine on for now."

"If laughter is the best medicine, then I’m pretty sure you’re my favorite doctor."

"Is it bad that I kind of like the way you’re trying to mess with me?"

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Check out the rest of Quillology with Haya; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! Instagram Tiktok

[heegyukeluv]

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

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

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

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

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

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

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

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

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

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he never really committed to anyone.

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

So, the question felt out of place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted Heeseung.

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

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

Every. Single. Second. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he loved you with his whole soul. 

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

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

Even so, you kept a straight face. 

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you flirt, then?”

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

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dangerously close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

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

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

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

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

No. 

He needed you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That you want me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed, closing your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

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

“I need you, Heeseung.”

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

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

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

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

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

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

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

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

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what is it, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

“Alright…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

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

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

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

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

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I loved it, Hee.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

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

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

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

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

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

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

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Where You Belong

Prompt: you're caught in the middle of a tornado, tyler's there in the aftermath.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: angst, blood mention

A/N: surprise surprise, & not what i usually write, but twisters has recently been consuming my entire life. so here's an angsty lil imagine of hurt reader being comforted by the wrangler himself.

You made it about fifteen minutes down the road before you realized that you’d forgotten your phone… Again. 

After patting down your pockets and digging through your tote bag the best you could without crashing the car– you straightened yourself in the driver’s seat and sighed defeatedly. 

Stupid, you thought. Although you weren’t really that surprised by your mistake. You’d never been particularly attached to your phone, and this certainly wasn’t the first time you’d left it behind. 

But you’d been trying to be more mindful about remembering it. And just like that, Tyler’s voice popped into your head– no doubt scolding you for your carelessness. ‘What if something happened and I had to get a hold of ya?’ 

Thanks to another wild storm system brewing all over the midwest, Tyler was out chasing again today. And although you’d checked in on him earlier in the day, you knew there was always the possibility that things changed. Storms shifted– gained power, sometimes his team (although rarely) got things wrong. A pang of guilt spread through your chest at the thought– what if something happened to him out there and he needed to reach you? 

You could turn back and get your phone, of course. But you were already so close to town. And all you needed was a bottle of shampoo and a birthday cake for Tyler. You could be in and out of Lawton in less than half an hour if you were quick– home before he even knew you’d left your phone behind again.

What could really go wrong?

…

“Talk to me, Dani– what do you see?” Tyler asked into the walkie. They’d been tracking a handful of storms for the past few hours– Tyler watching the clouds, and Dani studying the radar. Right now, there were two that had peaked his interest– One was formulating south, the other to the northeast. 

“The storm south has higher wind speeds, but I think it’ll fade if it shifts. The other one has a weaker wind shear, but higher pressure. Either one has the chance to form or go, so I say trust your gut,” they answered.  

Tyler shifted his grip on the steering wheel, studying the dark, circling motion in the distance. 

“What’re you thinkin’, T?” Boone asked, camera trained on Tyler. 

He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip– trying to focus.

“Less moisture, less potential for an updraft, but way higher winds if we go south. Northeast though… she’s already got the motion and momentum, she just needs the winds to shift...” 

Boone stayed quiet– he knew that when Tyler talked out loud, it was generally rhetorical. 

Tyler took his eyes off the sky to study the world around him for a moment. 

“No pressure, T,” Dani said through the walkie. 

“Yeah,” Lilly chimed in. “We just spent all damn day chasing these things–”

“South,” he said suddenly. “I say let’s chase south.”

…

Less than thirty minutes later, Tyler was standing in the middle of a wheat field with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. 

The storm had fizzled with the shifting winds, leaving them with nothing but a few scattered showers that mixed in with the sweat already pooling on his skin. 

“S’alright, T,” Boone said encouragingly with a shrug. He clapped him on the back. “We can’t catch ‘em all.”

Tyler sighed before joining Dani where they sat on the edge of the truck, scanning for other potential storms in the area. 

“What’s that there?” Tyler asked, pointing to what appeared to be a storm system heading west. 

Dani frowned. “What the hell… I think that’s the storm from earlier– the one moving northeast.”

“So it shifted?” 

“Shifted?” Boone said, lowering his camera for a moment to glance towards Tyler. “Where to? Can we make it in time?”

Tyler frowned, studying the movement. 

“That’s strange,” Dani mumbled under their breath. With a few clicks, they expanded the screen, showing a wider radius.

“What’s strange?” Boone asked.

Ignoring him, Tyler scanned the system, trying to trace the path without actually calculating it. “You don’t think–” 

Dani glanced his way. “Holy shit–”

“Hello?” Boone said. “Y’all gonna share with the rest of the class?” 

“I think she’s headin’ for Lawton,” Dani finally whispered. 

And although he’d been thinking it, all the color drained from his face when it was actually spoken out loud.

“Lawton?” Dexter asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Oh shit-” Lilly whispered.  

Lawton was the closest city to where the two of you lived– if it hit there, thousands of people could be in danger. And if it shifted again, even the slightest bit– it could head right for your small town instead.  

Despite the humidity, everything inside of Tyler went cold as he imagined you at home– puttering around the garden, blissfully unaware of what might be coming. 

“Will you uh, pass me– pass me my phone, Boone?” Tyler stammered, standing up from the truck bed. 

Boone reached into the backpack scattered near his feet and handed over Tyler’s cell phone, placing it in his outstretched hand. Tyler muttered a quick thank you before walking a few strides away as he pulled up your contact information.  

The call rang five times before making it to voicemail– your sweet voice asking him to leave a message and you’d get back to him. 

“Hey, baby– it’s me. Call me back as soon as you can. Alright, love ya.”

He clicked the phone off before immediately trying again. 

“C’mon,” he muttered as the line continued to ring. “C’mon, baby, c’mon,” he hummed nervously, kicking the grass with his boots when he heard your voicemail. “Hey– me again. Listen, I’m not trying to scare ya, but there might be a storm comin’ and I just wanna make sure you’re safe. Give me a call please.”

He paced back towards the group, sending you a quick text just for good measure as he did. 

“Alright, what’s the plan here?” Dexter asked. 

But Tyler wasn’t paying much attention as he obsessively dialed you for a third time. 

“What’s wrong, T?” Boone wondered. 

Without looking up from his phone, Tyler exhaled a frustrated breath. “She’s never got her damn phone on her– that’s what’s wrong.” The second he heard your voicemail for a fourth time, he chucked his phone towards his bag. “Damnit!” 

Boone swallowed thickly. “I’m sure she’s fine–”

Tyler hung his head. After a moment, he nodded, although he wasn’t entirely convinced that would remain the case if he didn’t get in touch with you fast. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to breathe– 

You were fine, he told himself. You were home, you’d hear the alerts if they were necessary, you knew to get into the basement. 

Tyler took a long, steadying breath. “Dani, what’s the speed of this thing?” 

“Uh, it’s moving– thirty-five miles per hour directly west. I think she’s gaining speed, though.”

“Alright, she’s fast,” Tyler remarked. “We have to be faster. Let’s head home, ladies and gents, we can take cover at my place once I know everyone’s safe.”

“You got it, T,” Lilly said. 

“Stay safe everyone,” Dani replied as they all dispersed to their respective vehicles. 

Tyler and Boone climbed back into the truck, tires screeching as they sped west towards Lawton, and home towards you. 

…

You were inside the bakery on Lowell Street– Tyler’s favorite place for any and all pastries, when you heard the thunder. 

Although thunder in Oklahoma wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, it was enough to make you turn your attention outside, just to see what kind of storm you might be up against on the drive home. 

“It’s gettin’ dark out there,” Gloria, the owner, said. She glanced at you over the counter and blew a strand of graying hair out of her face. 

You nodded in agreement, jumping slightly when another crack of thunder rang through the air. “Sounds like it’s getting closer,” you noticed. 

“I still can’t believe that boyfriend of yours goes out of his way to chase these storms. And his friends, too.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, me either. Bunch of adrenaline junkies.”

“Not me,” Gloria smirked. “We get enough chaos in this life, I don’t need to be chasin’ it.”

You returned her smile, recognizing that you might have more in common with the sixty-something year old baker in town than you did your own boyfriend. But you supposed that your differences were what drew you to Tyler. He was brave and thrilling and so alive. Although what he did scared the absolute shit out of you, there was nothing better than watching him exude excitement and just pure joy after he got home from a particularly powerful storm. 

“Was he and his crew trackin’ anything out here?” Gloria asked, using the tube of blue icing to write the birthday message you’d requested on top of Tyler’s cake. 

“Not here,” you replied. “He was south of OKC last I checked in.”

Which, you realized, had been far longer than you anticipated thanks to not having your phone. You mentally kicked yourself again for leaving it behind. If you’d brought it with you, you could have just given him a call now. Because unless he was smack dab in the middle of a goddamn tornado, he always answered your calls. Just a few reassurances from him could’ve calmed your fears about the storm brewing outside– told you that it was just a thunderstorm passing through. 

Not every thunderstorm means a tornado, he had said, you didn’t even know how many times by now. And each time allowed you to relax a little. Because unlike your boyfriend, you didn’t enjoy weather in quite the same way. In fact, after an EF4 had ripped through your home when you were just a child, you did your best to stay as far from tornadoes as Oklahoma allowed. 

“I’m sure it’s just thunder,” you began. 

But before you could finish your sentence, you heard the sudden pitter patter of hail beginning outside. Gloria lowered the icing tube while you took another step closer to the window to peer out. 

Dark, gloomy clouds swirled through the sky. 

That was when you heard the sirens. Loud and clear, they echoed through your ears in a terrifying, grim warning. 

…

As the storm tracked faster and faster the closer they got, Tyler’s first stop was your shared home just outside of Lawton. 

He didn’t even bother turning the truck off before he was hurling himself across the lawn, towards the front door. But before he even looked inside, his stomach dropped when he noticed your SUV wasn’t parked in its typical spot. 

Regardless, he practically ripped open the front door before running into the house, calling your name loudly into each room he searched, hoping that maybe you’d lent your car to your mom again– or magically parked it in the garage that was stuffed full of his gear. 

But it was no use– you weren’t there. 

He knew that for good as soon as he flung open the door to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, pillows arranged perfectly– and your phone sitting on the nightstand table, plugged in and clearly far away from you. 

“Damnit!” he yelled, kicking the door frame frustratedly. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. Frustration and anger brewed inside of him, but he knew that underneath all of that was fear– for you and your safety. All he wanted was to have you in his sights again– although preferably wrapped up in his embrace, the only spot he could ensure you were safe... Where you belonged.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Tyler made his way across the room and picked your phone up from the nightstand. Your background– a picture of you and him taken during your trip to Texas last year, lit up the screen. Accompanying it were the slew of notifications you’d missed– the first was the severe weather alert, the next few were all the missed calls from him. But at the very bottom of your screen was a reminder notification– one that allowed him to finally exhale the breath he’d been holding since he burst into the house. 

Get Tyler a bday cake. 

Sliding your phone into his back pocket, he raced back down the stairs to find Boone standing on the front lawn. 

“She’s in town,” he said, rushing towards his truck. 

Boone followed close behind. “How do you know?”

“If nothing else,” Tyler said, climbing into his truck, “she follows her schedule.”

…

“Gloria, you gotta listen to me–” you pleaded, hurrying around the counter to grab her hand. “If the sirens are goin’ off, it means we don’t have much time. Does the bakery have a basement, or– or a shelter?”

Gloria’s watery eyes met yours. Your heart sank the moment she shook her head dreadfully. 

“Okay,” you said shakily, trying not to panic. What would Tyler do? You looked around the bakery– with its old walls and sagging roof, you knew it wasn’t safe to stay here. 

“Gloria, we gotta go,” you said urgently. “We gotta find somewhere safe to be.”

With that, you tugged her towards the exit. 

As soon as you were outside, you felt the fierce wind whip your face, along with a few staggering pieces of hail. There was debris– leaves and sticks flying around in every which way, making it hard to see past what was right in front of you. 

Although you were trying to be vigilant, you didn’t even see the scrap of metal fly by your face.  “Shit!” you exclaimed, feeling it graze your cheek. Ripped skin was quickly followed by the feeling of warm blood trickling across your skin. 

“Are you alright?” Gloria asked, grabbing your arm. 

You used your free hand to press against your cheek before nodding. “We gotta get out of here,” you said. 

But just as you turned to try and gauge your surroundings, hoping to come up with a shred of a plan, you froze at what was looming in the distance. 

Winds whipped rapidly, the sky boomed, and a dark, wide funnel had formed– it’s tip already touching down on the ground. And it was coming straight for you. 

“Gloria, we gotta go–” you cried. “Now!” 

…

Tyler drove as fast as he could– foot nearly pressed down on the ground. He drove like his life depended on it. Because yours did– 

The truth was– he’d never given much thought to losing you. He was generally too preoccupied with wondering what you’d do if you lost him. He was the one putting himself in danger all the time, he was the one forcing his way in the middle of these storms. 

He didn’t know what he’d do without you– except be a shell of who he was now. 

“Holy shit–” he heard Boone say from the passenger seat. 

Tyler refocused his attention ahead, his eyes widening the second he saw what Boone was fixated on. 

It was hard to miss the giant, fucking tornado barreling right for Lawton’s array of buildings. 

“We’re too late–” Tyler croaked. “We’re too fucking late–”

“She’s smart,” Boone assured Tyler. “She knows where to go and what to do.”

Tyler’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator and drove faster. 

…

In retrospect, the laundromat probably wasn’t the best place for you to be. But there were few windows and the back room was lined with secure piping, all which jetted deeply into the ground, creating a solid anchoring point. 

There were a few other people huddled in the same room, already low on the ground and clutching onto one another. 

“Hold on to that!” you cried, practically pushing Gloria towards the corner of the room. She wound her frail arms around the piping before crouching down. You were right beside her, arms locked tightly on the piping as you felt the building start to shake. 

The storm outside was deafening. Winds whistled and boomed. You were pretty sure the woman beside you was screaming– but you couldn’t hear her above the noise of everything else. You tried to be brave– the way you knew Tyler would be if he were here. 

Once, about three years ago, an EF3 hit his parent’s ranch while the two of you were staying there for a long weekend. You remembered the way he stayed so calm, so collected through it all. After ushering everyone into the storm shelter, he wrapped his strong arms around you, anchoring you to him. The ranch didn’t shake like this though… And even though you’d been scared that night, it paled in comparison to what you felt now. 

This building was weak– the structure was unsound. You had no idea how close the tornado actually was, but you knew this thing wasn’t going to stay put. It was just a matter of if the pipes went deep enough into the ground and if you could hold on to them. Because you didn’t have Tyler holding on for you this time. 

You hoped he was somewhere safe– maybe tracking the storm that was about to kill you from a reasonable distance. 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” you told Gloria, sweaty palms making your grip slip. “Just hold on–” 

The building began to shake harder– the very foundation rocking beneath you. Shortly after, pieces of the roof began tearing off, exposing the thunderous storm raging above. 

“I don’t–” Gloria cried. “I don’t think I can hold on!”

You tried loosening your own grip– hoping you could wrap your arms around her like Tyler had done for you before, or do something to help. But then you heard another ear splitting roar, and suddenly, the entire roof was being ripped off from the building. There was nothing you could do. You weren’t strong enough– 

“Hold on!” you screamed, tucking your head into your elbow and squeezing your eyes shut. “Just a little longer!” 

But as the words left your lips, even you didn’t believe them. 

…

By the time they finally reached town, the tornado had already moved on. 

Part of the reason why Tyler loved tornados so much was their power and speed. In his eyes– it was nothing short of an act of God to see what damage a simple funnel of wind could do in just a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds. 

Until he was faced with the inevitable tragedy of it all. 

Because it was one thing to see trees uprooted, or tractors rolled over. It was another to see an entire town had succumbed to a pile of debris– vehicles thrown this way and that– metal and siding and bricks scattered over every inch of the flat land– To know that people, his friends, his neighbors, you could be buried underneath piles of rubble– bodies broken and bleeding and hurt if they were lucky enough to be alive at all.

Tyler brought his truck to a screeching halt, not even hesitating before he was ripping off his seatbelt and hurling himself out of his seat. The second his boots hit the mud, he screamed your name as loud as he could. 

Eyes whipping around, he tried to process the scene before him. But it was hard to gauge where anything used to be– there was practically nothing left. 

“Tyler!” he heard someone scream in the distance. Head whipping to the side, he saw Lilly, waving her arms frantically. 

For a moment, Tyler let himself get his hopes up. He raced across the distance between them as fast as he could, despite all the obstacles in his way. But when he finally reached her, he was devastated to see that you weren’t there at all. Instead, Lilly was staring at a vehicle, flipped over and crunched like it’d been hit head-on by an 18-wheeler. 

And although it was damaged beyond repair, Tyler recognized it as yours immediately. 

He felt his chest tighten. “Christ–” he stammered, unable to fight back the tears burning behind his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair before hunching over, hoping the motion would allow him to finally catch his breath.

“Oh God,” he panted. “God, no– please, no–”

“She might not have been in it,” Lilly said quickly. 

But Tyler barely heard her. He was too fixated on the pounding in his ears–  

A wave of hopelessness washed over him, flooding his insides. He was too late– he couldn’t save you– he was too fucking late. 

“We’re gonna find her, T,” Boone’s voice was suddenly peaking through the fog. 

“Yeah, we won’t stop until we do,” Dani added. 

Tyler forced himself to take a few, steadying breaths. When he could, he straightened his back and glanced around. 

His whole team hadn’t given up on you. 

Neither could he. 

…

When you finally gained the courage to open your eyes, you were met by a fierce brightness. You coughed– lungs heaving as you struggled to breathe. 

“Gloria?” you tried to speak. “Are you okay?” 

You were met by an eerie silence– the calm after the storm. Blinking harshly a few times, you tried to gather up enough strength to sit up. But as soon as you did, you had a chance to look around… And boy, do you wish you hadn’t. 

There was nothing left– the entire town was gone… destroyed, buried in rubble and debris. 

“Gloria?” you called, groaning as you pushed the thick layer of roofing off from your legs. You grimaced once you saw the deep gash down the side of your thigh, oozing blood. 

Breath shuddering, you continued to scan the area– trying to wrack your brain for what the hell you were supposed to do next. The second you moved to turn your head, you winced, vision blurring. Slowly, you grazed along your forehead with your fingertips. When you pulled them away, you grimaced to see them coated in crimson liquid. 

You stared at it for far too long– unsure what else to do. You were hurt– probably worse than it felt, too if adrenaline had anything to say about it. You didn’t know if you could walk on your leg, or if you’d pass out the second you tried to stand up. 

You felt hopeless– completely and utterly alone. 

Until you faintly heard the sound of your name being called in the distance. 

It was enough to make you snap out of your trance, head whipping around to see Boone throwing aside a piece of siding. He called out a second time before turning and locking eyes with you from across the way. 

“Boone,” you said under your breath, like you couldn’t quite believe he was real. Because if Boone was here– calling out for you, that meant Tyler couldn’t be far behind. 

Boone yelled your name again before turning. “I found her!” he screamed, waving his arms. “Over here!” 

You fought back the guilt you felt for still not finding Gloria and moved to stand on shaky legs. 

“I’ll come back for you,” you promised her. 

Wobbly and weak, you limped towards him, trying your best not to fall in the cracks and crevices beneath the debris. You looked down, intending to watch your step, but instead you caught a glimpse of your leg and all the blood now coating your entire thigh and calf. Just the sight of it made you lose your balance. 

“Shit,” you gasped, as you landed harshly on the ground. You looked back up and saw Boone heading your way– only fifty yards or so from you. But then– right behind Boone, was a sight that made everything else melt away. 

“Tyler,” you exhaled, like it was a prayer tumbling from your lips. 

His long legs moved fast– practically running despite everything in his way. 

He’d make it to you– he’d get you. But if you got up and kept moving… he’d get there sooner. So, with whatever you had left inside of you, you pushed yourself up. Ignoring the pounding in your head and the throbbing in your leg, you limped forward. 

“Tyler,” you said again– not loud enough for anyone else to hear. It was like you just needed a reminder that really was right there. “Tyler–” this time, when his name tumbled from your lips, it came out as a sob– every emotion inside of you bubbling to the surface of your skin. Tears slipped down your cheeks, your vision blurred. 

He was so close now– you could hear the rubble shift as he stepped on it. 

He called your name… and God, if his voice wasn’t the sweetest sound you’d ever heard. 

“Tyler–” you cried again, throat choked from dust and tears. 

And then, just like that, his body was colliding with yours. Arms winding tightly around your shoulders, a familiar scent enveloping you, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, anchoring you to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle, face buried in his button down shirt. 

“Oh, God,” he whispered above you, lips grazing the side of your head. “I got you,” he said. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out– only a guttural, uncontrollable sob that made him hold you tighter. 

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he whispered into your hair. 

“Tyler–” was all you managed to choke out. 

His thumb trailed up and down your hair, matted with mud and your own blood. “I’m here. I’m right here. I got you.” 

He held you tight, steadying your shaky frame. It was like he was the one thing keeping you from completely falling apart. Which was why your body almost recoiled when he finally pulled away. You needed him wrapped around you like that forever. 

You tried to resist, to pull him back, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. All you could do was stand there weakly while his wild, concerned eyes scanned the length of you. 

“I’m fine–” you tried to say. 

But he shook his head instantly. “You’re not fine. You’re hurt, we gotta get you out of here. Get an ambulance!” he yelled to Boone, who was lingering nearby, looking like he didn’t quite know how to help. Boone nodded instantly before hurrying off. 

“Tyler–” 

“Okay, I see the leg– what else?” he asked. “What else hurts?”

“My head,” you whimpered. “And my ribs–” you admitted, although you hadn’t quite managed to look at those yet. “But Tyler–” 

Before you could finish, Tyler’s hand gripped the hem of your tank top, pulling it up slightly. You winced as the fabric brushed over your ribs. But when Tyler pressed a hand on the bare skin, you almost screamed out in pain. “Sorry,” he said gently. “I gotta look though, baby. I gotta check it.”

You nodded, fingers squeezing the fabric of his shirt as he did. The pain was excruciating– enough to make your already-dizzy head start to spin. 

“I think they’re broken– at least a couple. Can’t say for certain.”

“Tyler,” you tried to repeat, tears still streaming steadily down your face. 

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” he said once he saw the shift on your face. 

“It’s Gloria,” you finally spit out. “She’s out here somewhere, Tyler. We have to find her–”

Tyler’s gaze softened at your words. He pulled his eyes away from you long enough to quickly scan the scene. 

“Did you see her? Or know where she went?”

You shook your head, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “No–” you cried. “No, I don’t know where she went. Tyler, I have to find her–”

“Easy,” he soothed, winding an arm around your middle so that he could brace the majority of your weight. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. We gotta get you checked out.”

“I can’t leave her–” you protested. 

“Listen to me,” he said, voice gentle but stern. “You bleeding out on a pile of rubble isn’t going to help her, okay? Let me get you somewhere safe, Boone and Dexter can search for Gloria, alright?” 

After a moment, you nodded solemnly. “You promise?”

“I promise, baby. Now c’mon.”

Before you could protest, you felt Tyler’s arm swoop around the backs of your legs, while the other supported your back. In an instant, your feet are lifted off from the ground. You didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay your head against his chest. 

“There we go,” he soothed. “I got you.”

His thumb trailed along your back gently as he began navigating the pile of rubble around you. 

You felt safe nestled against him– and for the first time since you’d emerged from the rubble, you felt safe enough to allow your eyes to fall shut. 

“Hey, stay awake now, okay? We’re just a short walk to the ambulances– keep lookin’ at me.”

You tried– honestly you did. You opened them up, despite everything inside of you that screamed to close them. And then you fought like hell to keep them trained on Tyler– to study the lining of his jaw and the tan shade of his skin. But Tyler’s embrace was so warm, and his voice was just so soft. And you were so, so tired. There was nothing you could do when they fell shut again. 

Tyler pleaded for you, but unconsciousness got there first. 

… 

Even after the doctors assured him you’d be okay– that it was just exhaustion and blood loss from the trauma you’d endured keeping you out for so long, he couldn’t settle down. 

You looked so goddamn frail– so broken in that hospital bed. He couldn’t stand it. 

It was nearly ten at night before the rest of his team packed up to head back home, making him promise to call them as soon as you woke up. 

“We can stay if you want,” Lilly offered. There was no hint of sarcasm or malice in her tone. She was being genuine. Which was how Tyler knew he must have been an absolute mess. 

“That’s alright,” he croaked, speaking for the first time in nearly an hour. Even he could hear the pain in his voice. 

Boone clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Love you, man.”

“Call us if you need anything,” Dani said. 

Tyler nodded, promised he would. But the only thing he needed was for you to wake up. 

…

His watch read midnight when you finally stirred. 

Tyler was sitting in a chair, pulled all the way up to your bedside, and was clutching your hand with both of his. He had his forehead resting against the hospital bed, but the second he felt movement, he shot up quickly, all the exhaustion fading instantly. 

Your face contorted into a frown as you squeezed your eyes shut once, twice, three times before they fluttered open. 

Scooting forward in his chair, he studied you as you glanced around– clearly trying to take in your surroundings and place where you were. The second you started to shift– like you were sitting up in bed in a panic, he squeezed your hand. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” he said. “You’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”

Your head turned towards him, confusion and fear plastered all over your cut up, bruised face. Just the sight made his chest ache. 

“You’re safe.”

You fell back against the pillow and nodded slowly. 

“Tyler–” you began shakily, he could already hear the sob lodged in your throat. “I– I’m…”

“You’re okay, baby,” he assured you. 

“No– I’m- I’m so sorry–”

He froze, brow furrowing in confusion. “Hey, what’s this? Stop- you got nothing to be sorry for, baby.” 

“I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t hear the alert until it was too late. It was stupid– I just–” your face crumpled as you struggled to find words. “You always tell me not to forget it and I forgot it.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I just– I wanted to get you a birthday cake– I should have gotten it sooner, but I forgot– and…” your voice continued to crack and break with each breath you took. “I know you don’t love birthdays, but I love your birthday–” Tyler leaned forward in his seat, releasing your hand so that he could cup your cheek. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before his fingers traced your jawline delicately. 

“I think your cake got destroyed.”

He couldn’t help the soft smirk that spread across his face. “I’d say that’s probably a fair assumption.”

“I’m sorry–”

“Hey,” he soothed. “Fuck birthday cakes– I didn’t want one anyway. I was thinkin’ we could get a nice pie this year. What do ya think? Blueberry? Peach cobbler?”

“But Gloria made it–” 

Suddenly, your face fell and you were back to sitting up eagerly. “Oh my God, Tyler. Gloria– she–”

“She’s safe,” Tyler interjected quickly. “Thanks to you. Boone found her not far from where you wound up, clutching to some pipes. She had a few scratches, but that was it. She said the pipes were your idea.”

A rush of pride flowed through him as he beamed at you. His girl– getting people to safety in the middle of a tornado, despite how scared you must have been. 

Your watery eyes met his, lip quivering as you tried to speak. “Tyler– I didn’t think…” he could hear the tears in your throat before you even let them out. “I didn’t think we were going to make it. God, I don’t know how we made it.”

Your voice broke on the last word, a sob escaping your lips as you doubled over. Instantly, Tyler was out of his chair and sliding into the tiny, hospital bed beside you carefully avoiding your cracked ribs and stitched up thigh. 

Without even hesitating, you curled into his side, fingers grasping as his shirt like your life depended on it. 

“Shh,” he soothed, hand rubbing up and down your arm. “You did make it. You and Gloria both. You made it because you thought on your feet– I’m so proud of you,” he hummed, pressing his lips to the side of your head. 

He had no idea if you believed him or not– no idea if his words were sinking in at all. You clutched his shirt and cried against his chest– frame shaking with each breath you took. Tyler felt so helpless in that moment. All he could do was whisper reassuring comments and words of affirmation in your ear and hold you tightly against him. 

After a while, your breathing started to return to normal. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you let out a sigh. “You came to get me,” you said quietly, voice sounding so tired– like it was moments away from drifting off. 

Tyler pressed his lips to your hair, eyes squeezing shut. “I’ll always come to get you,” he promised. 

You nodded. “I know.” 

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm a few more times soothingly. “The laundry mat was a good idea– especially with the pipes,” he murmured into your hair. 

With what little energy you had left, you pulled away from him to glance up. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Does that mean I can be a tornado wrangler now?” 

He smirked playfully. “That depends, do you want to be?”

You bit your lip, like you were really thinking about it. After a moment, you scrunched your nose up. “And face one of those things nearly everyday? Not a chance.”

Tyler smiled, pulling you gently against his chest– right where you belonged. “There’s my girl,” he said lovingly. 

[indecisivemuch]

Apples

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: You tossed an apple to Luke without knowing the meaning of it in Greek Mythology (fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)

Note: Just wanted to write something lighthearted and funny. Since I saw somewhere that apparently throwing an apple at someone means something in Greek Mythology, thought I should use it as a prompt.

Word count: 3.1k

You have been at Camp Half-Blood for a year. Within that time, you’ve been claimed by your Godly parent, learned so many things about Greek mythology, and, best of all, made friends who understood exactly what you were going through and all whom you loved dearly. 

One of them was Luke Castellan. You two were relatively close friends, though you swore he treated you differently than he would with others at camp. But you didn’t want to be foolish and assumed it was something. That didn’t mean you don’t treat him differently than you would with other campers though. You have always had a soft spot for Luke in your heart. You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but you found yourself thinking about him too often.

“Anyway, Percy. Don’t worry too much, honestly. We all have been through what you’re currently going through. You’ll fit right in, yeah?” the younger boy offered you a lope-sided smile as you patted his back and stood up. 

“Alright, boys, I have to go now, but I’ll see you later,” you said before grabbing your plate, which would have been empty if it wasn’t for the apple you hadn’t eaten. The rest of the table - which included Chris, Luke, and Percy - said their goodbyes before chattering again as you walked away. However, you halted as you changed your mind about wasting the apple.

You turned back to look at the group before calling out, “Hey, Castellan.” However, you were slightly caught off guard to see Luke already having his eyes on you.

Luke swore that you have always had him mesmerized. If he even heard a whisper of your voice, his head would immediately try to locate you. To make matters worse, Chris even started calling Luke a “lost puppy” when he realized how your departure would always leave Luke like one. 

“Catch,” you tossed your apple at Luke. 

Multiple heads turned in your direction as the red apple hurled through the air before landing neatly in Luke’s hands. The Hermes cabin counselor had his eyes glued onto the fruit that was in his palms. You almost halted in your steps from his and other camper’s reactions. Some started whispering to their friends, pointing at you. You even heard one gasp. But you ignored them, finding it strange that people cared so much about such a small interaction.

“You can have it. I don’t think I’ll have time to eat it,” with that, you vanished from the scene, leaving at least half of the camp agape, including Luke and your friends. 

Then, the strangest of things happened for the next few days. It started with Luke already stationed outside when you exited your cabin the morning after. He cheekily presented you with one singular flower in his hand, and you took it with playful words, “Ooh, what did I do to deserve this special treatment today?”

“Nothing, just thought I should show how much I appreciate you,” Luke put his arm over your shoulder as the two of you made your way to the dining pavilion. You could feel your cheeks flushing at his action. He has never done this before. With his arms around you, the sides of your bodies brushed as the two of you walked. You noticed almost immediately how every other person would have their eyes on the two of you. But you ignored the attention and focused on Luke instead.

The sweet actions didn’t stop at flowers or more physical touches. For the next three days, Luke was stuck to your hip. So it was quite strange that you have not spotted the Hermes cabin counselor in the last two hours. Hence why you were spending some time with Clarisse, another close friend of yours. However, you felt an arm swinging around your shoulders, and you instantly recognized who it was from the familiar touch.

“Hey, Clarisse, can I borrow Y/N real quick?” Luke asked, quickly muttering a “thank you” when your friend nodded. “So, I have something to give you…” your face must have shown how surprised you were because he chuckled at your reaction. However, when the boy pulled his gift out from his cargo pocket, your mouth fell slightly agape at the reveal. 

Luke must have misinterpreted your reaction because he started nervously rambling, his voice a few octaves higher, “It’s not much, but honestly, this is all I can do with my arts and crafts skills. I’m just not really good with that y-”

“It’s perfect, Luke. Thank you so much!” you gave him a brief hug, but it was enough to stun him for a second. Luke felt this urgent sense of craving from how your bodies fit for a second. It’s as if he was made to hold you. He almost pulled you back into another hug but had to force himself to regain composure. Nevertheless, that didn’t last long because his eyes softened again at the sight of you trying on the bracelet he made. The beads in your favorite color, crafted with care, wrapped around your wrist perfectly, and you wonder how he knew just the right size to make it.

The truth was Luke had to ask Clarisse to steal one of your bracelets just so he could make a bracelet of the correct size. But you didn't need to know that, though - according to him.

The next night, there was a social gathering near the campfire. Luke reapproached the location with a hoodie in hand. Earlier, Luke excused himself to fetch the clothing item that was now in his hand that was meant for you. However, his brows scrunched as he spotted another figure next to you, sitting in the spot that he previously occupied. You were laughing at something they said. The way your laugh echoed in his head usually sounded like a lullaby or the enchanting voice of a siren. But right now, the idea that someone else elicited the same laugh made him want to hurl behind the bush he was standing next to.

Little did he know you were zoning out from whatever the other boy was speaking about, thus the fake laugh to not blow your cover. You were distracted just thinking about Luke and everything he has done so far - offering his portion of dessert to you because he knew it was your favorite; him winning Capture the Flag and ignoring everybody else to go hug you first, then having his eyes on you and only you afterwards; sneaking out of camp to go buy the items you mentioned once that you wish you had at camp and so on. 

Your mind quickly reminded you that the boy sitting next to you was still talking to you. However, when you snapped out of your thoughts again, you realized now he was looking at you expectantly and you scrambled your mind for a reply.

Thank Gods Luke plopped down on your other side, saving you from having to admit to the other boy that you were not listening to him. “Hey, you’re back,” you commented. Luke’s arm automatically threw itself around your shoulder and tugged you to him slightly. Your body leaned on the Hermes cabin counselor ever so naturally at this before you turned to him. Luke quickly set his clothing on your lap, and you stared at it questioningly.

“You’re cold, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” your cheeks flushed again at how he knew without you telling him. You shivered maybe once or twice earlier due to the night air lowering the temperature, but it was so brief you were sure nobody had noticed. As you put on the hoodie, Luke averted his gaze from you to the guy on your other side. 

The Hermes cabin counselor arched one of his eyebrows in a challenging manner. Almost immediately, his ‘opponent’ slightly raised both of his hands. Luke internally snickered at the quick motion of surrender. 

“My bad, man,” you heard the other boy say as you managed to put your head through the clothing item and pull it down. Luke was physically preening at the other boy’s words and departure. Meanwhile, you were distracted by how you were engulfed by the smell of Luke from his hoodie. Your height difference also meant you were swimming in it, but it felt so comfortable.

“What was that?” you asked once the other boy was gone. 

“Nothing…” even the most oblivious person could see that Luke was lying. But, once again, you did not question his actions and carried on with the gathering. You could also feel other campers staring at the two of you, but you ignored that as well. 

That night - like every other night since four days ago - he walked you back to your cabin. You were honestly completely smitten by the attention he has given you, not that you would admit that to him. You were still not sure what caused the change, but you were still elated about it. Maybe he did return your feelings? Either way, everything felt perfect lately, and you went to sleep that night feeling like the stars aligned for you.

“I guess congratulations are in order?” Percy spoke up as you lined up for food the following day. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, taking the plate of food. Today’s meal consisted of mac n’ cheese, steak, and an apple. 

“You’re engaged?” you almost dropped your plate at that and gave the son of Poseidon a questioning look. “You proposed to Luke like a week ago?”

“What? When?”

“When you threw him the apple? That is considered a marriage proposal.”

“Since when?”

“Uh, in Ancient Greek culture, it’s considered a marriage proposal if a man throws an apple at a lady. But, I mean, it’s the 21st century, so I guess it can work both ways.” Percy finally took a plate of food for himself. “And if the recipient catches it, it’s considered an acceptance.”

“You saw this and knew this whole time without telling me?!?” 

“I thought you knew! And you two seem so smitten already, so I thought you did it on purpose.”

“Percy, no! Is this a well-known thing? Do you think other people who saw it too thought I proposed to Luke as well?” Seeing Percy’s look and how he was fumbling with his words, you quickly requested, “Actually, no, don’t answer that.” 

The two of you walked over to Luke and Chris with plates in hand. You picked up the apple on your plate and placed it on the table. 

“Luke, we need to talk,” You deliberately placed the fruit there, hoping the boy would get a hint about the topic you wanted to discuss. Luke’s eyes flicked from the fruit to you. Though the hint of amusement in his eyes and a sheepish grin made you realize he knew all along. Luke stood up and followed you out of sight and hearing distance from other campers whose eyes were trailing after the two of you.

“You knew what it meant, and you didn’t tell me?” You broke the silence as soon as you two were far away enough. 

“Listen, I appreciate your proposal. But, it’s a little bit fast, don’t you think?” Luke teased, and you instantly hit his arm at that, causing the boy to flinch slightly, but the smile on his face told you he was anything but mad at your action.

“But you caught it. So, technically, you said yes,” you rebutted, sighing as you rubbed your face, “My Gods, does everybody at camp think we’re engaged? Wait, is this a substitute for an engagement ring? Did you give this to me because of that?” you pointed to the bracelet Luke gave you, your mind now understanding Clarisse’s teasing and her implications. You could see the way Luke was stifling a laugh. He settled with saying something else when he saw the pure panic on your face.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” the nickname successfully silenced you. You hated how it made you feel, but you would not mind hearing that daily. “No, it’s not an engagement ring.”

“Oh, so were you doing all of these romantic gestures and gifts on purpose to make fun of me and the situation?” you asked, though it was more with a lighthearted tone than one of temper. However, something shifted because the expression on Luke’s face changed from one of humor to earnestness.

“No, I didn’t do all this to make fun of the situation or you…” Luke’s voice fell off as tried to find the right words to say next. In that split second, Luke took a deep breath, and you could see how nervous he suddenly became, though he still kept a light tone. “I did it because I took it as a chance to maybe…win you over, and it also gives me an advantage because it fended off many other guys.” 

Undoubtedly, you were frozen in place, unable to register the words he was saying and the implications they bear. Neither did the boy in front of you act like the Luke you usually know - somebody who was usually confident, outgoing, always having his way with words. No, the person in front of you could not even hold eye contact, the pink hue on his cheeks now spreading to the tip of his ears as he shifted left and right. Luke broke the silence first, giving away the nerves that were gnawing him away from your lack of response.

“How about this? I’ll say ‘no’ to your mind-blowing marriage proposal for now,” you lightheartedly hit him again, rolling your eyes playfully. Seeing a positive reaction from you, Luke let out a small breath of relief, but the nerves quickly overtook again as he mustered up all the courage to utter his counter proposal: “But maybe we could start with something slower like going on a date? — Or I’ll even settle with you allowing me to try and ‘woo’ you.” Luke added the last bit as insurance, in case you didn’t want to take up on the date. Part of his mind wanted to scowl at himself for seeming so desperate - but Gods, he has always been a desperate man when it comes to you. 

“You’re such a dork.”

“Yet you still proposed to me.”

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” Luke only shook his head in response. Once again, you haven’t responded to his offer. Luke could see that you were in deep thought, the cogs turning in your head as you digested what he just said.

“You mean it? That you wanna go on a date? That you wanna “woo” me and sweep me off my feet?” you questioned. Despite the humor in your voice, there was also a hint of vulnerability and cautiousness. “Does this mean what you’ve been doing for the past few days…they are all genuine?”

“Is it that hard to believe that I like you? I don’t think you even fully understand the feelings I have for you. I’ve had my eyes on you for a year now, which is the entire time I know you, and I’m afraid I can’t see that changing any time soon.” Luke had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from saying more because he was sure he would never stop talking about you if he could. Maybe those unspoken words ought to be things Luke would disclose in the future. If you give him the chance, he will ensure you hear everything he adored about you.

“Well, that’s good then, ‘cause I happen to like you too,” your words made Luke’s eyes snap to yours, almost in disbelief. 

Luke felt as if his heart was blocking his airway by the way it was thumping so hard in his chest to the point he could feel the vibration in his neck. He held his breath over your confession and the way you were looking at him. Oh, Luke was convinced he was utterly doomed because how could he be so affected by one single look. He was suddenly unsure whether he would be able to handle your affections or ever live without it if it was taken from him. He’d spend the rest of eternity like a deprived man.

“Aw, look who is nervous now,” you teased, deciding to somewhat torture him and get him back for teasing you earlier. “I did not think I had this kind of effect on you, Castellan,” you approached him slowly, keeping eye contact with his now dilated pupils. 

“I mean…all I did was say a couple of words and you’re all tongue tied. What would happen to you if I do this?” you swiftly grabbed Luke’s camp beads and pulled him down, eliminating a significant amount of space between your faces, though not completely. To steady himself during your action, Luke’s hands steadied on your hips and stumbled slightly, though you did not mind the touch.

You never knew it was possible for his face to flush even more, but it did. Luke gulped and your eyes casted down on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he did so. The way he reacted to you only intoxicated you with power even more. You glanced upwards a bit, eyes observing his lips for a split second before looking back up at his eyes. You smirked when you caught his eyes flickering back to yours from your lips as well. 

Just as you were about to close the distance, Luke pulled back just a bit, finally able to speak, though his words were heavy warnings, “If this happens—” Luke stopped, unsure he should let you know. Luke shook his head lightly as his eyes traced over your features before continuing, “If we kiss, there is no going back for me. I don’t think I could just…forget about it. So, please, just be sure before you do it.” Your eyes softened at his words.

“I promise, Luke. I am sure,” you muttered, though Luke knew you meant the words by heart from the way you were looking at him. 

You finally pulled the boy down again using his camp necklace. 

As your lips touched Luke’s, he let out a content sigh. His hands clung onto your hips, pulling you flush against his own body while you caressed both sides of his face in your hands. Luke felt like the world was swallowing him whole. The boy now knew what your lips tasted like, and it felt like an addiction. He could feel his heart waving white flags at that moment, completely surrendering to you. He was right before. There was no going back from this. 

But oh, if Luke knew an apple was all it took, he would have tossed one to you himself.

----------------------

masterlist

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[nightprompts]

&. 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 (𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬?) ����𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  dialogue  prompts  to  send  to  your  worst  enemy  (affectionate).  feel  free  to  change  how  you  seem  fit.  )

❛ oh great, it's you again. ❜

❛ you? kill me? that's funny. ❜

❛ for being someone you hate, i'm sure on your mind a lot. ❜

❛ you're the last person i wanted to see, actually. ❜

❛ do us both a favor. stay away from me. ❜

❛ you really are an asshole, you know that? ❜

❛ i'm the asshole? what does that make you then? ❜

❛ sometimes i think you must hate me. ❜

❛ i thought you said you never wanted to see me again. ❜

❛ if you want me to go, then you have to tell me to leave. ❜

❛ well, someone's cranky today. ❜

❛ well, someone needs to shut the fuck up. ❜

❛ just stay out of my way. ❜

❛ of all the idiots in the world, i'm stuck with you. ❜

❛ what is it you want this time? ❜

❛ sometimes i wonder if you're in love with me. ❜

❛ do you honestly think this is easy for me? ❜

❛ why would i ever want to be friends with you? ❜

❛ can we please just talk? ❜

❛ there is nothing for us to talk about. ❜

❛ you can yell at me later. just let me help you. ❜

❛ touch me, and you're dead. ❜

❛ oh, so now you care? ❜

❛ there is something deeply wrong with you. ❜

❛ i know i'm the last person you probably want to see, but... ❜

❛ you don't think we could be friends, do you? ❜

❛ i'm tired of fighting against you. ❜

❛ don't pretend you give a shit about me. ❜

❛ you're an idiot, but... i trust you. ❜

❛ oh, don't be cute. ❜

❛ wait, did you just say that i'm cute? ❜

❛ we're not good for each other. ❜

❛ if i say yes, will you shut up? ❜

❛ don't you have to be stupid somewhere else? ❜

❛ maybe we should kiss just to break the tension. ❜

❛ i'm sorry i can't turn off my feelings as easily as you. ❜

❛ maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends. ❜

❛ how can you be so smart yet so dumb at the same time? ❜

❛ don't think this changes anything between us. ❜

❛ you look ridiculous in that outfit, by the way. ❜

❛ if you die, i'll kill you. ❜

❛ is that a challenge? ❜

❛ ah, so you're not heartless after all. ❜

❛ i don't think i've ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ you never cared about me, so why now? ❜

❛ why didn't you kill me when you had the chance? ❜

❛ i don't even remember why we started fighting. ❜

❛ i don't have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you're not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

[miniimight]

I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!

hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3

PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)

sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.

his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."

"you got there okay?" you asked.

"mhm."

"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."

"mhm."

"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"

"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."

he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.

your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."

"..." he looked down at his bike.

"ryo, baby?" you hummed.

"hm?"

"you did take the car, right?"

"..."

his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!

"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.

"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"

"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."

"..."

the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.

"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,

"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."

he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(

"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"

"yes... unfortunately."

he nodded. "we'll be home soon."

"in one piece?"

he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."

"hm." you huffed and hung up.

he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.

she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"

"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"

"for mama."

"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.

she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.

"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.

sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?

he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."

she turned up her nose. "stinky."

his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"

she looked at him as if it were obvious.

"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.

the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.

she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.

"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.

that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.

you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.

"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.

"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.

sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."

you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.

he sighed.

after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3