#from below the opposite of light

[shadow-of-the-eclipse]

on my death note crusade, tried to tone their colours and reverse the lighting but it turns out lighting is hard

[o-ceti]

<- king of not thinking through the implications of my color palettes until it’s already finished and too late

[whateveriwant]

The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back 

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours 

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake! 

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have  anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him 

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Cold Jealousy

I am back once again with more Silco brain rot. Feeding all of you who need the content as well as myself.

Summary: Who knew jealousy was all it took for to have your first kiss with Silco?

He hates the coiling in his stomach that arises whenever you laugh at something a patron says. It sickens him, seeing you lean in so close to another man, your lips moving as you say something and then smile, causing the table to burst into laughter. He knows you're simply close friends with them, after all they are your childhood friends, people who grew up with you, so of course you'd act overly familiar with them but he can't stop his chest from tightening, his fingers twitching.

The nib of his pen pierces through the page he was writing on and he scowls angrily at the mess, trying to drown out your voice but it's intoxicating, a melody that snatches his attention away from the numbers in his notebook. Your laughter is like a drug, leaving him wanting more every time he hears it, and the thought that it's someone else eliciting it drives him insane.

"You alright there?" Vander slides him a glass of scotch, worry clear gentle grey eyes.

"I'm fine," Silco spits back, a little harsher than intended. Of course Vander would notice something was off, Vander knew him way too well. He turns back to his notebook, trying to suppress the whispers that begin to cloud his mind and stares at the numbers, willing them into his brain.

"You know they only have eyes for you right? They don't look at anyone the same way they look at you." Vander glances over at the table where you're currently playing a game of cards, and from the looks of it, losing.

"I know," Silco scowls, stabbing the page with his pen. Vander simply huffs and turns to attend to the customer who just pulled up at the counter. Silco rolls his eyes and closes the notebook, he's done for the night. There's no way he can continue concentrating when you laugh like that, when butterflies flutter in his chest and turn to stone as he remembers you're not laughing at something he said or did.

"I'm going to get some air," he grunts, slipping out the back door.

Out of habit, he makes his way to the rooftop, sitting at his usual spot and looks out at the sprawling underground city beneath. Neon lights flash from various stores like stars, illuminating figures as people walk past but the silhouettes disappear just as quickly, fading back into obscurity. It's the same pattern every night, he's memorised some of the figures already, knows the habits of certain individuals, and has noted the important ones. He spots the lady with twin brown hair buns who frequents the brothel opposite, the two enforcers who always sneak into the nearby drug store during their nightly patrol and nearly misses the sound of your footsteps.

"Hey." You take your seat next to him.

"Y/N." He barely spares you a glance before looking back at the city below. The night wind whistles through the air, sending shivers through his body and he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest. Dammit, he forgot his coat. The air here is chillier at this time of the year, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city's nightlife, but it brings a sense of peace that he treasures, especially when it's with you. Tonight, it just feels cold, probably from his lack of a coat, but there's a numbness he can't explain.

The clink of glass snaps him out of his thoughts and he glances up to see you produce a bottle of wine as well as two glasses.

"Sorry, I couldn't swipe a bottle of scotch so I grabbed the next best thing before anyone could catch me," you smile at him and pop the bottle open. The red liquid sloshes in the glass as you fill it up and hand it to him, "peace offering?"

He wrinkles his nose but takes the glass anyways, mumbling a thank you before letting the liquid slide down his throat. It doesn't have the same burn as scotch does, but there's still a pool of warmth that sits in his belly, although it does little to alleviate the chill he feels.

You smile and pour a glass for yourself, taking a sip, following the direction of his eyes. Silco swirls the red liquid around in his glass, biting his lip. The silence is awkward, but he won't be the first to break it, his pride won't let him. Fortunately, you shift closer to him and shrug your jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Don't catch a cold on me."

He snorts in response, tugging your jacket tighter around himself. It smells nice, smells like you with a hint of his cigar's smoke. He can pick out the scent of wine, the smell of the soap you use to wash the jacket, the remnants of Piltover's smell from your afternoon stint and a small smile makes its way onto his face as he remembers the way you threw yourself at him, clutching a bag of freshly baked bread, laughing as you yelled at him to run for his life. The pool of warmth resting in his belly spreads to the rest of his body, sending tingles up his spine as he buries his face into the jacket's fabric. The fabric is worn but still maintains a certain level of softness, and it feels as nice as it smells.

He watches as you finish your glass and exchange it for the bottle, remembering his own unfinished glass and takes another sip. Scotch was still the best drink, a shame you didn't manage to filch a bottle of it. You down half the bottle in one go, sighing in satisfaction and gesture at his glass.

"You don't have to force yourself to finish it, you know?"

He scowls, and finishes the rest of his wine, all the while staring right at you. "As if I'll let you have any of mine."

You laugh, and he finds that your laughter sounds better when it's because of something he said than when it's because of something someone else said, besides, there's the added bonus of giddiness that fills him. He smiles, for the first time tonight and sets the glass down next to yours. The awkwardness has been broken, much to his relief and he feels as though he can breathe easier.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" You gesture towards the myriad of lights. "Piltover's lights can't compare to this."

"That's because most of their lights are the same colour," he snorts, "but yes…it is beautiful."

You beam, taking another swig from the bottle and set the bottle down, leaning back on your hands. The night breeze ruffles through your hair, playing with its strands and Silco watches as a couple of strands fall between your eyes, causing you to huff and puff at it until it falls off your face. The next gust of wind is stronger and you shiver, shifting closer to him. He shakes his head and throws the left half of your jacket over your shoulders so it covers the both of you.

"Don't you catch a cold on me either."

"Thank you for sharing my jacket." You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. He nudges you back, the back and forth going on for a while until the jacket slips off your shoulder and he leans over to pull it back on. Electricity crackles from where his skin brushes against yours and he feels his heart leap into his throat when he looks up at you, realising how close the two of you are.

Sure, the both of you know how the other feels, knows the unspoken truth but continue to dance around each other, fearful of what acknowledging the feeling would bring, but tonight just feels right. He feels your hand intertwine with his and he leans in, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. You lean in as well and your lips meet for the first time.

The feeling is addicting, Silco quickly learns. The way your lips lock with his perfectly, the way you lean in as his fingers run through your hair, the way your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him closer, all of this makes him wish this moment will never end. Unfortunately, the both of you need to breathe and so he reluctantly parts from you, pressing his forehead against yours. It feels natural, to feel your warmth, to hold you underneath your jacket, and from the way you're looking at him with such adoration in your eyes, you feel the same way.

It doesn't need to be said, nothing needs to be said, the only thing he needs to do is close the gap once more and taste the wine on your lips, savouring the sweetness of it all. This is the one time he will admit that wine tastes good, but he still prefers scotch.

Your hand gently cups his cheek and he finds himself leaning into the touch. Your thumb runs over his skin, brushing along his cheekbone and he sighs, surrendering to your warmth. A small smile graces your lips and he can't help but smile back, although his smile is rather lazy.

"We should head back before Vander has to come and haul us away," you murmur and Silco reluctantly extracts himself from your touch.

"And before he closes the bar up so that we don't have to wash the glasses." He picks said glasses up, nudging the empty bottle towards you. "You are still going to throw the bottle away, I'm not touching that."

"Why? You were so eager to touch my saliva just moments ago," you tease, mirth decorating your features.

"I'm not about to deny you your responsibilities." He ducks out of the way as you try to shove the empty bottle into his arms, quickly making his way back into the bar before you can succeed in making your problem his. He hears your annoyed shouts behind him and laughs, sliding into the bar's counter.

Vander raises an eyebrow as Silco places the glasses in the sink and darts off, then shakes his head as you come barreling in, demanding that Silco help you as payment for the wine he drank. He grabs the both of you by your collars and drops you both at the sink. "I believe washing everything in the sink will suffice as payment for the bottle of wine."

You groan when you see the amount of empty cups in the sink and Silco laughs, turning on the water tap. At least you're trapped in this with him, the washing should go by faster.

As the both of you hunch over the sink, you give him a little nudge with your elbow. "Next time, if you're jealous, just step in. I'll leave with you, I promise."

"Jealous?" He splutters. "I wasn't jealous!"

"Sure you weren't, Mr 'angrily stabs an innocent piece of paper with his pen'. Keep trying."

He huffs, turning his attention back to the glass he's currently wiping dry. "I wasn't jealous."

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I doubt that changes facts though."

"Nobody said that was a fact."

You lightly punch him in the shoulder with your damp fist and he mock glares at you, smacking your arm with the drying cloth but can't stop the smile that's forming on his face.

"Don't ever doubt yourself," you say softly. "You mean everything to me."

And you mean everything to me too.

[gyubakeries]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | j.ww

a/n: so ! don't question where this came from LMAO. serena ( @gotta-winwin ) please accept this as an apology for the wonwoo angst u read before this and the one you will read afterwards. i love you i promise 💗 also this is just really badly written smut i apologise i just went with the vibes. shoutout to june ( @junkissed ) for helping me find pics for the banner!

word count: 1.6k contents: NSFW content , wonwoo x afab!reader , established relationship , morning cuddles , nsfw warnings below the cut!

nsfw warnings: mdni! 18+ , unprotected sex , thigh riding , breast play , creampie , cockwarming , nicknames (f. princess, baby)

one thing you can say about yourself is that you are a morning person. you’ve always enjoyed waking up to see the first rays of light streaking across the dark sky. the sounds of birds chirping, the cool breeze, and the soft glow of the sun in the early hours of the dawn always manages to put you in a good mood for the rest of the day.

you can’t say the same about your boyfriend.

wonwoo, a self-declared ‘anti-morning person,’ is the complete opposite. he sleeps at an ungodly hour of the night and doesn’t leave bed till noon. thankfully, his work schedule allows him the leeway to sleep in that late, or else he'd be having some serious issues with his boss.

so, here lies the issue.

it’s 6:15 in the morning. the sun is barely out, but you’re already awake. it wasn’t your alarm that woke you up, but the restless feeling in your stomach. at first, you woke up thinking that maybe last night’s ramen didn’t digest well, but when you turned to look at your boyfriend sleeping next to you, hair messy and torso bare, you recognized the feeling in your stomach all too well.

you’re horny. at 6:15 in the morning. the sun is barely out.

“what the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, trying to close your eyes and force your brain to shut down, but it seems like all the energy in your body has been diverted to your core. 

the visual of wonwoo in front of you doesn’t do too much to help your situation. neither does his morning wood, which is currently pressed against your hip.

“fuck me,” you whisper to yourself, lamenting this stupid situation you’ve gotten yourself into, when you get the scare of your life.

“this early in the morning?” a groggy voice chuckles, and it takes you a few moments to realize that it was wonwoo speaking.

wait, wonwoo?

“how are you awake this early?” you gasp, mortified that your boyfriend has woken up six hours too early and heard you spiraling into a horny mess.

“i was asleep, but i woke up because i could feel how needy you’re being now,” wonwoo explains, voice still raspy from just waking up.

you’re about to argue and tell wonwoo that it’s his arousal that you can feel very clearly, but wonwoo seems to predict your next move, because he decides to throw you off with his next words.

“you’re dripping with need, baby,” he mutters. “you’ve soaked through your panties. i could feel it on my leg.”

you belatedly realize that at some point during the night, wonwoo’s thigh got wedged between both your legs, which explains how your arousal seeped into his sweatpants, leaving a dark patch on the grey fabric.

“oh god,” you wince, embarrassment coloring your cheeks red. “wonwoo, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen. you can go back to sleep, yeah? i’ll take care of it-”

“why do it yourself when you have me?” wonwoo cuts you off. “you really think your own fingers are enough to make you cum?”

you know that wonwoo already knows the answer to that question. ever since you started dating wonwoo four years ago, you’ve been unable to give yourself an orgasm with just your own fingers or toys. only wonwoo’s touch helps you reach that climax, and he often calls you his ‘spoiled princess’ for it.

“no,” you mutter. “need your help, wons.”

“i’ve got you, baby,” wonwoo smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing your hips and pulling your body closer, his thigh still wedged between your legs.

“i want you to ride my thigh first,” wonwoo whispers in your ear, his hands slowly guiding your hips in a back and forth motion. “i want you to show me just how desperate you are for me. can you do that, love?”

you nod immediately. the friction that his muscled thigh is creating against your clit has already rendered you speechless, and soon, you’re rocking your hips against wonwoo’s thigh without his hands needing to guide you. you bring your hands up to clutch at his shoulders as you quicken the pace, chasing your release.

wonwoo helps by slipping his cold hands under your shirt, gently squeezing your breasts. the action makes you moan, and you arch your chest into his touch. “more, wonwoo, please,” you request, your voice strangled with pleasure.

“i’ve got you, baby,” wonwoo complies. he’s quick in tugging your shirt off all together, groaning slightly as he gets a full view of your bare chest. one hand goes to the back of your neck to pull you into a dizzying kiss, while the other massages your breast, squeezing harshly than before. he tugs and pinches at your nipples too, making you whine into his mouth.

“wons, it’s not enough,” you cry against his lips. “need your cock in me, please.”

and who is he to refuse you?

“turn over to your other side for me, princess,” wonwoo says, his voice deep and raspy. with the way the bulge in his sweatpants has grown bigger, you can tell he’s just as affected as you are. while wonwoo is taking his sweatpants off, you quickly flip onto your other side, your back coming in contact with wonwoo’s chest.

it’s like your usual spooning position, except for wonwoo lifting your leg and hooking it around his hip. the feeling of his tip nudging against your aching core is enough to make you go crazy, and you rut your hips onto his length, craving for more.

“aren’t you impatient today?” wonwoo chuckles into your ear. one hand is splayed across your abdomen, while the other nudges the fabric of your ruined panties to the side to finally slide his cock into you. as he slowly fills you up completely, the both of you let out similar groans of pleasure.

“fuck, feel so full,” you gasp. “wonwoo, move now, please. i can take it.”

wonwoo doesn’t need much more of a signal to start finally thrusting into you. you know that he’s just as desperate for release as you are because of the relentless pace he’s picked. you feel the breath get knocked out of your lungs as wonwoo snaps his hips into in fast and hard movements.

“you’re so tight around me, princess,” wonwoo rasps, his hand moving from your stomach to your breast, cupping and kneading the soft flesh. “can you feel how tight you’re clenching around me right now?”

“‘m close, so close,” you pant. “faster, wons, please.” you don’t pay any mind to how desperate your pleading sounds, not when all rational thoughts have completely left your mind with how good wonwoo is fucking into you as he leaves bruises on your neck and shoulder with his teeth.

the pressure in your core is rising rapidly, and somewhere between wonwoo’s fingers rubbing at your clit and his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, your climax hits you out of nowhere. you feel your walls gripping onto him as you’re finally pushed off the edge. wonwoo’s release follows soon after, his cum painting your insides white.

when you’ve both caught your breath, wonwoo releases the hold he has on your leg, and you wince at the soreness in your lower back. his hands go back to being wrapped around your waist, and he nuzzles his cold nose into the back of your neck, the action lodging him deeper inside you.

“do you wanna go shower now?” wonwoo whispers, and you shake your head.

“can we stay like this for a while?” you ask, basking in wonwoo’s warmth. “it feels really nice like this.”

“don’t have to tell me twice,” wonwoo agrees with no hesitation, and you laugh. in retaliation, he playfully pinches your hip. “hey, you were the one who woke me up six hours before i actually wake up.”

“at least this way you’ll see the sunrise for once,” you bite back, and wonwoo looks outside the window, his face lighting up when he sees the streaks of orange in the sky.

“it’s really pretty,” he admits, and you rest your hands on top of his, loosely lacing your fingers together. “but i’m still really sleepy. can i go back to sleeping now? you kinda interrupted my really awesome dream.”

you can’t help but snort at how groggy his voice sounds from the lack of sleep. “what was the dream about? one of your video games?”

even though you’re not facing him now, you can tell he’s smiling from the way his lips press into your skin. “nope, i was having an epic dream in which you and i save the world from jelly monsters.”

“that’s too bizarre for me to even analyze,” you sigh. “just go back to sleep, baby. i’ll wake you up in a bit.”

just as you make a move to slowly slip out of bed, wonwoo’s arms around you tighten. “no,” he mutters, now sounding even sleepier. “sleep in today, i know you don’t have any work.”

“just say you need your personal heater next to you,” you roll your eyes affectionately but don’t protest any further. you snuggle back into wonwoo’s chest, and the comfortable heat the closeness of your bodies brings you is enough to lull you back to sleep.

wonwoo stays awake for a little longer, memorizing how the emerging sun slowly covers you with its golden glow.

as he falls asleep, he finds that he wasn’t too upset about being woken up early in the morning, because mornings are the best when they’re spent with you.

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[reidalert]

IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY | spencer.reid

| spencer reid & fem!reader 3.1k words

| content: a case has you feeling helpless and guilty, and no matter who consoles you, nothing helps. maybe all you need is to take a break, but what if the break is being risky with dr. reid?

| warnings: mentions of death/kidnapping, flashback to the case, reader feeling vulnerable

| author’s note: i haven’t written in a longgg time and boy does it feel good to finally get these words out of my head. it feels like a privilege to get my writing spark back & i can’t wait to share all my ideas with you. i hope you enjoy reading <3

| masterlist

feedback and comments are highly appreciated!

You have thick skin.

Well, that’s what you say to anyone who asks if you’re okay.

But after today? After this case? You’re not sure if that’s true anymore. You don’t get affected easily, not when it comes to blood and gore. You’ve homed in on keeping your reactions and feelings at bay when it comes to that… but what happened out there? It’s made you feel helpless.

You knew from the minute JJ briefed you back at the BAU that this case was something you hadn’t dealt with before. Even Agent Hotchner had asked if you wanted to sit this one out.

But you said no. You wanted to get more experience to become a better profiler and a better agent. And it came at a cost.

You feel like an outsider. Like you’re watching yourself from an outside perspective as you go through airport security. The endless whir of machines and planes landing and taking off in the background do nothing for the thoughts racing in your mind.

You’re the last to be cleared and you know the others are watching you. Their eyes burning through your skin and doing what they do best. Profiling.

You don’t meet their gaze. You know as soon as you make eye contact with one of them, they’ll be asking you questions and it’ll make you torture yourself about whether you’re fit for this job. So, you make your way through the long and endless corridors until you’re at the gate for the jet.

The dull whirring of the jet engines helps you zone out. The leather seats are a cool comfort to your heated self.

Logically, it would make sense to let them know you’re not doing okay and that you need some time to yourself. But who are you kidding? You’re a thick skinned woman who can do anything… so you’ve made them believe.

You’re sitting on the farthest seat in the jet, right in the corner away from everyone else. You can’t deal with the questions you know they’re going to ask you.

But apparently, that doesn’t stop Agent Hotchner from taking the seat opposite you.

“I know what you’re gonna say.” You break the silence but continue staring out the oval window. The city lights below turn smaller and smaller as you progress through the flight.

“And what’s that?” Agent Hotchner asks. You’re not happy he’s here, invading your little self-pity bubble, but you do appreciate the way he keeps his voice quiet.

You shrug. “That something has upset me. Or that I’m too in my head about this case. Along those lines, anyway.”

Agent Hotchner regards you for a moment. You can feel his eyes staring at the side of your face as you purposefully stay looking out the window.

Because you know the second you make eye contact with him, he’ll see what’s going through your head. And he can’t.

“I gathered something was wrong.” His voice is low, a nice baritone that doesn't annoy you. “I know when someone in my team is different. And you’re different.”

You fight back the scoff that’s threatening to spill. “And what is that supposed to mean, Agent Hotchner?”

“Just…” he sighs. You’re very similar to Spencer Reid; in a way that you both struggle to admit when you need help. “If something is bothering you, I am here to listen.”

“Who says something is bothering me?” You kind of regret asking that question as you know damn well he’s about to go into an explanation of how he can see you’re upset.

He sits up a little straighter, hands clasped over his crossed knees. “You’re avoiding eye contact with me, your knuckles have turned white from how hard you’re gripping the arm rests—”

“That’s nothing—”

“You’re interrupting me. You don’t like being analysed as it makes you vulnerable. You haven’t eaten anything in the past,” Agent Hotchner checks his watch. “Six hours. Your stomach is warring against your emotions and you don’t like that. You’re sitting in a corner trying to push yourself away from other people.”

“Okay.” You bite out, now finally giving in to looking him dead in the eyes. “You’re a great profiler. No need to showboat.”

“I’m not showboating.”

You roll your eyes, “Sure seems like it.”

A minute or two pass in silence. Agent Hotchner is still staring at you and you feel incredibly small under his gaze. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything.” He fixes his shirt cuffs, acting so nonchalant as if he didn’t just profile one of his team members.

You grit your teeth. “Fine. Today messed with my head. That case was… it was wrong. So wrong that I can’t stop thinking about how I could have helped that family.”

Agent Hotchner leans forward, gently placing his hand upon your own on the arm rest. You feel your grip loosen and you fight back a grimace at how cold his hand feels against your warm one. “It’s not your fault. We all know we could have done something different out there, but sometimes the unsub takes a surprise route. Things like this happen and it’s unfortunate, but don’t blame yourself.”

You shrug again, avoiding eye contact once again. “Yeah.”

He stands, pulling his suit jacket to fit more comfortably. “If you need to talk to someone, come to my office.”

You only offer a silent nod in answer.

“Oh, and Agent L/N? Stop calling me Agent Hotchner, Hotch is just fine.” He offers a small smile and you shake your head, going back to staring out the window until your eyes feel too heavy to keep open.

“Why is there so much paperwork?” Your voice comes out all agitated as you rifle through a stupid amount of folders and loose paper.

Emily peeks over the cubicle dividing and raises an eyebrow. “You okay there?”

You sigh, slumping down onto your desk chair, spinning until you’re facing her side of the cubicle. “Do I sound okay to you? Who in their right mind decided to give me the goddamn paperwork for that goddamned case?” You glance around the wide room, trying to find JJ; this has to be her doing.

Emily purses her lips, “Doing paperwork isn’t that bad, Y/N. I mean, I guess there’s a lot but it’ll make the day go by quicker.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff, feeling yourself grow more annoyed by the minute. You know you need to get yourself in check, but the past 24 hours have ridden you like the Grim Reaper is taking jockey lessons in Hell.

“What’s got Little Miss Thick Skin so angry today?” Derek Morgan walks up to your desk, a hot mug of coffee in his hand. A brief thought had you biting your lip— it’d be wrong to spill it on him.

“Don’t start, please.” You rest your elbows on your desk, hands holding either side of your face as you stare at the paperwork. The names of the family you couldn’t save stare right back at you. Your stomach drops and you’re not sure how long you can stay in this office.

“Hey,” Derek places his mug on your desk before crouching down to your eye level. “What’s wrong, girl? If you don’t want to do the paperwork, I can take it off your hands. No big deal.”

You shake your head, “Don’t bother. I’m fine.”

Derek watches your face and you turn your head to look at him. “If you start profiling me, Morgan, I swear to God that coffee mug will end up in a place you really don’t want it.”

Derek chuckles and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, girl. Just tryna help ya out.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need help. I’m fine.” You scoot your desk chair closer and grab the closest pen, tapping it against the top of your desk to distract you from the fact you have to relive this case just a day later.

You don’t catch it, but Derek and Emily share a knowing look. They’ve seen this before. It’s not hard to notice someone you spend days on end with is struggling.

Derek grabs his mug and pats you on the shoulder. Emily sinks back into her cubicle and makes sure to keep an eye on during the day. If she finds you with smoke coming out of your ears, she’ll go get the fire extinguisher.

Your hand cramps as you write your final notes. The computer screen has turned too bright for your eyes and a headache begins to form behind your eyes. It’s been a long day.

Clicking the pen closed, you lean back against your chair with a deep sigh. You close your eyes just to rest them for a brief moment and scenes from yesterday plague you.

It’s like you can’t escape.

Your heart rate picks up speed. You’re not sure how it turned into a game of cat and mouse, but you’re adamant on putting a stop to it.

“What does he think he’s doing?” You’re standing with your palms pressed against a conference table in a police station in Washington. The projector casts a live shot of the news— a helicopter is chasing after the unsub in a car. The family you’re trying to protect is with him.

“He’s trying to flee.” Agent Rossi says, so matter of factly that it has you turning your attention to him instead.

You squint at him. “You saw this coming, didn’t you?”

He gestures to the screen. “You didn’t?”

“No, I did not.” You grit your teeth, moving so you’re now standing up straight. “I predicted he’d do something out of the blue. We all did. But we didn’t know he was going to kidnap them. That wasn’t part of his game.”

Rossi shrugs, “I’ve been in this job longer than you have, kiddo. It takes experience to know something like this. Don’t blame yourself.”

“What?” You let out a disbelieving scoff. “Listen here old man—”

“That’s enough.” Agent Hotchner cuts through your words, ending your little spat with Rossi. “We’re all here to do a job. So let’s do it.”

Faint footsteps sound behind you. You’re not sure who’s still in the office, but considering how late it is, there’s only a few people that come to mind.

“Hey, what are you doing here so late?” That all too recognisable voice makes your heart swoop. Spencer appears in your line of vision, his man-bag crossed over his torso. He looks ready to leave. “It’s nearly 7PM.”

“Oh.” You glance at the clock mounted on the wall. You didn’t realise that you were doing the paperwork for the Washington case for nearly 10 hours. “Guess I lost track of time.”

Spencer regards you for a minute. “Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You offer a weak smile, not trying to be bitchy to him like you were to the others earlier. You make a mental note to apologise to them tomorrow.

“It’s just— nevermind.” He shakes his head.

Your brows furrow, “No, what is it?”

“Ever since we got on that plane yesterday, you’ve been hostile.” Spencer rocks back and forth on his heels. “I know you don’t like to be profiled, I don’t either, but I know something is wrong.”

You twist in your chair, facing your computer screen with your hands hovering over the keyboard. You don’t want to talk about it, you just want to figure it out on your own.

“Y/N?” Spencer says your name and you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes all sparkly, his cheeks smooth, his lips… perfect.

You blink slowly. Your head isn’t in the right place, but your heart (and hormones) are.

You internally say fuck it and reach for the strap of his man-bag to pull him down to your level. Your breaths mingle and your eyes dart in a triangle from one eye to his lips to his other eye. And lo and behold, the triangle method actually works because Spencer leans in and you feel his lips ghost over your own.

And nothing.

He just stays in that position. Hunched down in your grip, lips mere millimetres away from your own and he doesn’t finish the job.

You breathe in a deep sigh, your senses being filled with his scent. “Why aren’t you kissing me?”

“I— I think it’s because I know you’re not yourself. It feels wrong.” Spencer's breath is minty as it fans over your cheeks and neck. You want to say something snarky, but you know he’s right. “I do want to kiss you, though. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now.”

You lean back a little, your eyes staring into his pretty brown ones. You don’t see a sign of a lie and your heart skips a beat. “Would it help if I admitted what’s going on? Would you kiss me then?” God, are you really that desperate to get kissed by Spencer Reid? Yes. Yes you are.

Spencer lowers into a crouch, one hand grips the armrest of your desk chair, whilst the other splays across your knee with a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’ll help me. Talk to me. Let me inside your pretty head.”

You reach out for his tie, fiddling with it to help your nerves. “You know I don’t like talking about how I feel, but this is something I can’t keep to myself anymore.”

Spencer nods, his hand on your knee giving you another squeeze. But this time in a reassuring way. That’s your go ahead sign to lay it all down.

“That case we did. The family where we couldn’t save them, where I couldn’t save them, keeps replaying in my head and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” You take a breath, your fingers still playing with his tie. “If we got there sooner, I know we could have stopped him from hurting them. From killing them. I feel like if I did or said something right or helpful, I could’ve saved them. I hate feeling like this because I know it isn’t my fault, but I just can’t help but feel guilty.”

Spencer stays quiet, letting your words sink in. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault.”

You sigh, dropping his tie and moving your attention to his face. To his lips.

“I wish I could go back in time and help.” You admit, feeling a small weight lift from your shoulders.

“I wish for that, too.” Spencer admits as well. Both of you find comfort in knowing you feel the same. It makes feeling like this just the little bit easier to deal with. “Thank you for sharing how you feel.”

You let out a small laugh. “Thank you for not dismissing me.”

“I could never dismiss you.” Spencer’s voice is soft and warm. His fingers slowly trail up and down your calf, sending a shiver through your body. “Would you like that kiss now?” The smirk on his lips has your stomach flipping and you want nothing more than for his lips to be on yours.

“I would very much like that kiss now.” You smile at him, leaning in and already feeling your body succumb to him. When your lips meet, you sigh. You’ve missed being able to be physical with him; it’s hard trying to stay colleagues when all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms.

Spencer lets his hands travel— up your thighs, round your back, cheekily up the hem of your dress. You moan lightly into his mouth and he swallows it.

Your hands grab for his collar to deepen the kiss. “More.” You mumble against his lips and he complies. Spencer bites your bottom lip to elicit a gasp from you so he can dive his tongue down your throat with ease.

You feel yourself involuntarily squeezing your thighs to quell the ache forming between your legs. God, you’d do anything to take him home with you right now.

Before you get a chance to start undoing his tie, a loud and clear cough comes from your right.

You stop moving but Spencer keeps going. Trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, you now get a perfect view of Hotch standing outside his office with his arms crossed. You can’t make out what his face is portraying.

“Spence.” You tug on his collar, but he thinks you want him to go further. You feel his tongue lick a stripe up the column of your neck and you have to fight back a whimper.

You’d die on the spot if you let Aaron Hotchner hear you moaning.

“No. Spencer.” This time you push at his shoulders and the look he gives you makes you feel bad. But if you let him carry on, both of you would never be able to be in Hotch’s presence. Ever.

“Are you okay?” Spencer brushes a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

You shake your head, your fingers quickly straightening out Spencer's tie. “I loved it. You were good, but, um…” your eyes drift off to where Hotch is still standing.

It’s as if Spencer was zapped by lightning. He shoots back away from you, and somehow manages to hit every piece of furniture around him. You want to laugh but this situation doesn’t call for laughing. You’ve been caught by your boss making out in the middle of the BAU.

“Reid, L/N. Care to explain?” Hotch moves slowly down the stairs, his aura too strong for you to look him in the eyes right now.

You twiddle your thumbs. “He was just helping me finish this file report from the case yesterday.”

Hotch looks at Spencer, knowing that he’ll blab the truth. “She was upset about not being able to save them and I wanted to help ease her pain and—”

“That’s enough.” Hotch raises a hand. “Since it’s past working hours, I’ll make a one time allowance for this behaviour.”

You have a big sigh of relief and Spencer lets out an audible groan of embarrassment. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t.” Hotch checks his watch and frowns. “I’m late for something. Finish that report and I’ll see you both tomorrow. Behaving correctly.”

You nod your head and Spencer keeps his head down staring at the floor. You watch Hotch leave the office and you finally let out your cringing grimace. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know he was here. I thought he left already.”

“I can’t be mad. I got to kiss the prettiest girl in here.”

“Shut up.”

Copyright credit to @reidalert as of 2024-present.

[blackynsupremacy]

NICHOLAS BEING

OBSESSED WITH YOUR

BOOBS HEADCANONS

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: nicholas can’t enough of your boobs.

contains: sfw and nsfw (18+) so minors dni! established relationship, nicholas being a simp, nicholas being a pervert, making out, mention of smut, ambiguous unprotected/protected (it’s up to the reader), oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), riding, major love to your titties, nipple sucking/biting, food play, ice play, slight breeding kink, praise kink, mention of sending nudes, cuddling, aftercare.

taglist: @stereotypicalbarbie @sabrinasopposite @afrogirl3005 @rosiestalez @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @hnch33rios @tryingtograspctrl @gxuxhdjdu @simply-the-best23 @jkr820 @ellethespaceunicorn @camiesully

• your boyfriend nicholas loves everything about you.

• your mind, your soul, your heart.

• and of course, your body.

• one of his favorite parts: your boobs.

• the biggest simp to them thangs.

• it all started when he came over to your place for a dinner and movie night.

• ya’ll were gonna cook together, eat, and watch a movie. just kicking with each other, basically.

•when you opened the door, he peeped your usual lounge wear consisted of sweats and a white, ribbed tank.

• what he also peeped was that you didn’t wear a bra. you were a little confused on why he was blushing when he stepped inside.

• “because well, you know, you’re not wearing a…yeah.” he awkwardly gestured towards your figure and tried his best to avert his eyes.

• of course he believed you were this breathtakingly stunning woman who was indeed sexy as hell, but he didn’t want you to see him as a creep by any means.

• he respects you—a lot!

• when he told you why, you couldn’t help but laugh.

• “wait. what am i not wear—oh. ooohh!”

•you weren’t thinking of it that much because this was your house and you felt that comfortable around nicholas to walk braless around him. you reassured him this was just how you relax at home.

•you’d sometimes walk around shirtless, but that’s a story for later.

• from that day on, nicholas gained a bit of confidence regarding his love for your chest.

• it started out with you guys cuddling on the couch. his big wholesome self was laying on top of you with arms wrapped around you like a koala. his head rested on your torso, just a little below your chest.

• you didn’t mind. that’s your lil’ bookie butt!

•you and nicholas were laying in a comfortable silence. one hand massaging his hair, while the other was scrolling through your tiktok.

• “hmm…y/n.” he murmurs, nuzzling his head up closer. you spaced out a little and he called your name again a little louder.

• “yeah, nicholas?” you respond still paying attention to your scrolling.

• “there’s something i wanna try. would you be okay with that?”

• “yeah, sure, go ‘head.”

• nicholas took that green light to slide his large hands up under your shirt to softly caress the skin of your stomach, just taking his time and easing his way in.

• he was gonna make sure you’d stop scrolling once and for all and give him some attention.

•you thought he was just giving you an innocent body massage as you felt him move your shirt up your stomach.

•you giggled a bit when he sprinkled some sweet kisses along your navel.

• now you were starting to get confused. was he about to go down on you, right now?

•it was the complete opposite, nicholas was lifting that little ass shirt of yours higher and higher until your breasts were fully exposed to him.

•the girls were sitting pretty and looked ready to be taken care of.

• with both hands, he grasps onto them. with a dark, focused vision, his fingers take time to knead, roll, and play around.

• “nick, baby, what are you—ah, shit.” your sentence was cut short when pressed his tongue flat against your nipple, giving it a deliberate lick before his lips surrounds it to give it a good sucking.

• nicholas felt smug as fuck when he heard the thud of your phone hit the floor. now both of your hands were caressing his head as you brought him in closer.

• he’s a cheeky little perv when it comes to your boobs.

• he sees your nipples as little hershey kisses.

• ya’ll could just be standing there and he’d just grab a titty with no logical reason.

•he likes to playfully bury his face in your chest.

• gives you a motorboat every once in a while.

• he loves when you cuddle right on top of him, so your chests would be pressed together.

• he’s a sucker for you when hug him from behind.

• bonus for when you hug him from behind and you’re both shirtless.

• your plush, soft chest pressing and rubbing against the hard, toned muscles of his back are an intoxicating sensation.

• besides those itty bitty tanks you wear, it drives him crazy when you wear bikinis, corset tops, and low cut dresses.

• girl, he’d be ready to give it to you if you wear any of that with one of his necklaces.

• especially his gold cross chain. he’d be ready to literally fold you.

• you’d sometimes send him pics of you covering bare chest with his necklace on to tease him.

• for your instagram post on halloween, you and him recreated the iconic, yet scandalous album cover from janet jackson’s 1993 self-titled album.

• it’s the one with your hands on your head and he’s concealed behind you with his hands covering your breasts.

• ya’ll went so viral that queen janet herself gave you a like, comment, and a follow.

•nicholas thought you were so cute while you were having a fan girling moment.

• ya’ll didn’t give two shits about whatever backlash ya’ll received.

• you just got followed by janet jackson, so nothing else mattered.

• he loves to see them thangs jump and jiggle.

• one time you jogged up to him to tell him something and this man kept staring at your chest like he’d been hypnotized after seeing them move like that.

• you’d have to be the one to bring him back down to earth.

• “nicholas, i’m trying to tell you something important. my eyes are up here, baby boy.”

• he’d nervously laugh and apologize, he felt so embarrassed. he swears up and down that he has better self-control.

• you reassured him that you were going to let him see them soon.

• when you guys work out together. he would notice the bounce of your boobs when you were running on the treadmill.

• or when you sweat, it leaves your brown skin glistening in that area.

• his nasty self don’t give a fuck, he wants to lick it.

• obviously gropes onto your breasts while you guys makeout.

• he loves when you whimper in his mouth as his grip gets more intense.

• you were playing him in pool. it was hot as hell, so of course you wore a fucking corset top.

• nicholas just watched attentively each time you bent over to hit the balls with your pool cue.

• his eyes couldn’t pull away as your breasts pressed flush against the table.

• you didn’t notice because of your competitiveness. you just wanted to kick nicholas’ ass in this game.

•well, you did.

• man was in such a titty tizzy, he fumbled the game.

• you couldn’t help, but to gloat and he was still happy for your win.

• plus, he got to see your boobs, so did he really lose?

• he sings your praises each time you expose yourself before sex.

• “fuck, my girl is so fucking beautiful.”

• “don’t you see what you do to me, y/n?”

• “please, let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

•when he goes down south, one hand is intertwined with yours while the other is playing around with your nipple as his tongue brings you to euphoria.

• they’re one his favorite places to release on after you’ve given him the world’s best head.

• he goes fucking crazy when he sees it dripping down your nipples.

• loves to alternate between each boob. he wants to make sure the girls get equal tlc.

• pull on his hair harder, his nibbles turn to bites.

• to spice things up, he’ll have you decorate your boobs with whip cream, chocolate sauce, or icing for him to lap it clean.

• his personal favorite is circling an ice cube around your nipples to get them cold and erected before placing his hot tongue on each.

• he’s mesmerized by the way the girls bounce whether you’re riding him or you’re beneath him in missionary.

• if it’s in reverse cowgirl, he’d hold on to your boobs for dear life.

• if he’s taking you from the side, one hand is on your leg to angle it up while the other gripping onto your chest.

• sometimes he’d just sit back and watch. he’d enjoy the show with his hands behind his head.

• or if he’s in a sentimental mood, he’d hold you by the waist and bring your chests as close as possible until you both become undone.

• afterwards, he’d run you both a bath to soothe your worn out bodies.

• he gently massages your boobs with soapy hands while whispering about how good you make him feel and not just in a sexual sense.

• he’d want to get you pregnant to see your boobs grow even bigger.

• he’d dress you in a sheer, satin nightgown that he bought you.

• he you got seven of them in different colors.

• when you cuddle in bed, he loves to be the big spoon, so that he can slide his hand under your top to caress your erect nipple.

• boobs aside, he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

thinking about LOGAN HOWLETT – 18+

mdni, fem!reader // wc: 506

With Logan, sex is either one of two ways. It’s either quick and rough and hateful, or it’s the polar opposite: slow and gentle and loving. It all just depends on how self-loathing he feels. How much he’s had to drink.

Today, it was the latter. 

He hovers above, caging you to the mattress, one arm bent beside your head, supporting his weight – the other extended down to one of your thighs, thick fingers pawing at the chub, keeping your legs open. 

His cock is heavy as he rocks into you, the slow, unrushed pace letting you feel all of him. Letting you satiate your every need. The deep, irregular pumping of his dick leaves you gasping for air – leaves you grasping at the skin on his back. The sheer thickness of cock hazing and blurring any cohesive thoughts in your mind.

The hand on your thigh moves to the side of your face, large, hairy hand clasped to your cheek – keeping you there. His palm is warm over your jaw, loose hold tilting your head back, making you look him in the eye as he fucks into you with that same mind-altering, leisure rhythm.

Strokes are slack, unrushed, the full length of him consuming you in a way so intoxicating, so fulfilling. The grinding into your cunt knocking broken, choked-out noises from you.

His thumb hovers over your bottom lip, the pad skimming over the plump of it – the act itself dominant and assertive. His gaze remains locked on you below, eyes following the movement over your lips, watching those tiny microexpression-like reactions splay across your face.

But during those moments when he looks away, they’d be on some other part of you, on another part of your body – eyes taking in the lewd image of you underneath him. Gaze darting over your chest, taking note of the soft bounce of your tits – his steady thrusts knocking them in gentle circles.

Though, he can’t help but touch them, the hand on your jaw moving to the swell of one of your breasts, large palm rolling over it – thumb teasing at the nipple, swirling the mound with featherlight touch.

And when that time comes when you both meet your end, only then would he make some more noise – deep grunts and groans muffling between the close distance as he cums into you, the guttural sounds making up for the previous irregular moments of quiet. 

While he eases himself from you, he brushes over your cheek – the act soft and sweet as he leaves the warmth of you, the comfort of you. Sliding on his jeans, he makes his way over to the dresser – pouring himself a drink and lighting a cigar. His eyes focused on you from across the room, not shying away from your glances. 

You couldn’t help but stare, especially now when he exudes nothing but sheer manliness: his v line prominent above his low hanging jeans, happy trail beaded with sweat, and most importantly, the best sight of all: his glistening toned chest.

okay cool got that outta my system, totally normal now. also kinda hate this? but was the first thing I wrote properly in over two weeks so yay

[yieldtotemptation]

DEALS ft. Miyeon

... is this thing on?

written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.

miyeon x male reader smut

2k words

"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."

The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.

"Okay."

"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"

"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."

"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.

Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.

That was until now.

Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.

It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.

"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.

"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."

It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.

She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.

Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.

"Look at me."

Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.

Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.

"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"

You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.

She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.

"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.

It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.

That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.

"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."

A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.

Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.

Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.

She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.

And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.

"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.

You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.

It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."

But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.

She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.

"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."

"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.

"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."

She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.

It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.

You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.

It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.

Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.

Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.

You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.

"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."

You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.

It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.

And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.

"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."

"Fuck, Miyeon."

But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."

And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.

“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”

You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.

Because why wouldn't you?

That was your deal.

---

A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.

[misaerabl]

Glitters And Cigarettes

CONTENT: wc...6.9k ✦ neighbor ellie, loser ellie, hyperfemme reader, smoking, oral sex (e!receiving), fingering (r! receiving) SUMMARY: Ellie was a bit of a mess—a mismatched, cigarette-smoking loner who lived in the shadow of her dazzling neighbor. You were her opposite in every way: confident, kind, and wrapped in glittery, pink perfection that seemed to light up the world around you. Ellie admired you quietly, watching from a distance, captivated by the way you carried yourself as though life were your stage. You were everything she wasn’t and everything she longed for, a supernova she could only dream of reaching but never dared to touch.

Ellie leaned against the cracked railing of her apartment balcony, the stub of a cigarette dangling from her fingers. The neighborhood buzzed faintly below her—a car alarm, the hum of a distant radio, and the occasional bark of a stray dog. She wasn’t really paying attention, though. Her eyes were fixed on the apartment beside hers, on you.

You stood on your balcony, elbows resting on the pink-painted railing as you stared up at the stars. Ellie didn’t even realize she’d been holding her breath until you shifted, the sequins of your skirt catching the faint glow of a streetlamp.

You looked like a daydream, all soft curves and shimmering light, and Ellie—well, Ellie was the kind of girl who watched from the sidelines. Always had been. She scratched the back of her neck, letting out a sharp breath through her teeth.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, flicking ash into the dark. But she didn’t look away. Couldn’t.

It was always like this. Seeing you was a daily ritual she couldn’t break, even if she wanted to. And tonight? Tonight was no different. You turned slightly, leaning over the railing, and Ellie caught sight of the small smile tugging at your lips. It wasn’t meant for her—it never was—but she liked to pretend it was anyway.

You waved suddenly, and Ellie froze.

“You okay over there, neighbor?” Your voice carried across the narrow gap between your balconies, soft and teasing.

Ellie almost choked. She hadn’t expected you to notice her lurking, let alone talk to her. She fumbled with her cigarette, nearly dropping it as she straightened. “Uh—yeah, I’m good. You?”

“I’m great,” you said, your grin widening. “You look like you’re having an existential crisis over there.”

Ellie rubbed the back of her neck, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” you teased. You rested your chin in your hand, your gaze locking on hers. “What are you thinking about?”

Ellie blinked. You. That’s what she wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. She shrugged instead, stuffing her free hand into her hoodie pocket. “Nothing important.”

“Well,” you said, leaning a little closer, “let me know if you figure it out. I’d love to know what keeps you up at night.”

Ellie laughed, a quiet, awkward sound, and you smiled at her like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like you hadn’t just turned her insides upside down.

“Goodnight, Ellie,” you called, slipping back into your apartment with a little wave.

Ellie stood there for a long time after, cigarette forgotten, heart pounding against her ribs. You knew her name.

The day Ellie’s life shifted was like any other. She’d slept through her alarm, thrown on the first clothes she could find—a wrinkled band tee and some paint-streaked jeans—and stumbled out her door with her skateboard under one arm and her bag slung over her shoulder.

You were in the hallway, standing in front of your door with your phone in one hand and a drink in the other. Ellie almost tripped over her own feet when she saw you, your pink crop top catching the light as if it had been designed to blind her specifically.

“Hey, Ellie!” you called out, bright and casual, as if it wasn’t the first time you’d said her name.

Her brain short-circuited for a second. You know my name?

“Oh, uh, hey,” she managed, her voice cracking slightly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “What’s up?”

You tilted your head, giving her that curious smile that always made her chest ache. “Not much. My coffee machine broke again, so I’m heading to that café down the street. Wanna come with?”

Ellie blinked. She glanced around, certain you must’ve been talking to someone else, but it was just the two of you in the hallway.

“Uh…” Her mouth opened and closed uselessly for a moment. “You’re asking me?”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and effortless. “Yeah, why not? You like coffee, right? Or tea? Or... whatever they have?”

Ellie scrambled to think of a reason to say no, but she couldn’t come up with one. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I was totally gonna grab coffee anyway.” Lie, she thought. But you didn’t seem to notice.

“Great!” you said, your grin widening. “Let me grab my bag, and we can go.”

As you ducked back into your apartment, Ellie leaned against the wall, clutching her skateboard like a lifeline. This had to be some kind of prank, right? People like you didn’t just... invite people like her out for coffee.

And yet, here you were, reemerging with your sparkly purse slung over your shoulder and a soft hum in your throat as you locked your door.

“Ready?” you asked.

Ellie nodded, pushing herself off the wall. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

As the two of you walked down the hallway together, Ellie tried to focus on anything but the way your perfume lingered in the air between you. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t just admiring you from a distance. She was in your orbit now, close enough to feel the warmth of your star.

And Ellie wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

The café was buzzing when you and Ellie arrived, but you didn’t seem to mind. You breezed past the crowded tables and long line like you owned the place, flashing Ellie a quick grin over your shoulder. She followed you hesitantly, her skateboard tucked awkwardly under her arm as she glanced around, suddenly aware of how out of place she felt.

You ordered first, something colorful and sweet, of course, and when Ellie stepped up to the counter, she hesitated. She didn’t have the cash for anything fancy, and she wasn’t about to embarrass herself by asking.

“Just a black coffee,” she mumbled, glancing down at her sneakers.

The barista nodded, but before they could punch it in, you cut in with a soft laugh. “Oh, come on, Ellie. Live a little.”

Ellie’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Get something fun,” you insisted, your voice light but insistent. You leaned against the counter, close enough that Ellie caught the faint scent of your perfume again, and smiled at her like it was the easiest thing in the world. “It’s on me.”

“Oh, no, I can’t—”

“Ellie,” you interrupted gently, tilting your head. “It’s coffee. Let me do something nice for you, okay?”

She swallowed, her throat dry. Your voice was soft, your tone casual, but there was something about the way you said her name that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Uh… sure,” she said finally, glancing back at the menu. “I’ll, uh, have whatever you’re having.”

The barista nodded and rang it up, and you handed over your card without a second thought. Ellie felt like her brain had short-circuited. Was this what hanging out with you was like? Effortless generosity, like it was just a natural part of who you were?

You grabbed the drinks when they were ready and led Ellie to a small table near the back, sliding into the seat across from her.

“So,” you said, your smile as warm as the coffee in your hand. “What’s the deal with you, Ellie?”

“The deal?”

“Yeah. You’re always so quiet. Mysterious.” You leaned in slightly, your elbows resting on the table. “It’s kind of cute, actually.”

Ellie froze. The word cute hung in the air between you, and she swore her heart was trying to claw its way out of her chest.

“Uh, I’m not that mysterious,” she said finally, trying to downplay the warmth rising in her cheeks.

“Oh, really?” you teased, taking a slow sip of your drink. “Then what’s your deal, neighbor? What do you do for fun? What do you think about when you’re smoking on your balcony late at night?”

Ellie nearly choked on her coffee. You’d noticed that?

“Nothing interesting,” she said quickly, rubbing the back of her neck.

You gave her a knowing look, your lips curving into a small smirk. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The conversation flowed after that, and before Ellie realized it, an hour had passed. The café had emptied out a bit, the background noise fading into a quiet hum, and you leaned back in your chair, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” you said suddenly, your tone light. “You want to come over? I was thinking of putting on a movie. Could use the company.”

Ellie’s heart stopped. You were inviting her over. To your place. Where you lived. But it was still morning, right? No, wait—whatever, it didn't matter.

“Uh—yeah,” she said, trying to sound casual despite the way her voice cracked. “Yeah, sure. Sounds cool.”

You grinned, standing up and grabbing your cup. “Great. Let’s go.”

Ellie followed you out of the café, her mind spinning. This wasn’t just a neighborly gesture, was it? No one invited their neighbor over for a movie unless…

She swallowed hard. No, she was reading into it. You were just being nice. That was all.

Right?

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. You filled the silence with little comments about the neighborhood and the café, and Ellie nodded along, her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets to keep them from fidgeting.

Her mind was a mess of half-formed thoughts and spiraling possibilities. She’d spent months watching you from afar, and now you were casually inviting her into your world like it was nothing.

When you reached your door, you unlocked it with an easy flick of your wrist and pushed it open, stepping aside to let Ellie in first.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you said with a laugh, motioning toward the small but cozy living room. The walls were dotted with fairy lights, and the coffee table was cluttered with magazines, books, and a bowl of half-melted candles. It looked exactly like Ellie imagined it would—soft, warm, and completely you.

She stepped inside cautiously, her skateboard still clutched tightly under one arm.

“You can leave that by the door,” you said, motioning toward her skateboard. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Ellie nodded and set it down, her fingers brushing nervously against her jeans. She sat awkwardly on the edge of your couch, her back ramrod straight.

You disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses of water. You handed one to Ellie, then plopped down beside her, your legs tucked up under you as you took a sip.

“So,” you said, turning slightly to face her. “What kind of movies are you into?”

Ellie blinked, gripping her glass like a lifeline. “Uh, I don’t know. I’m not picky.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Come on, everyone has a favorite.”

“Okay, fine,” she muttered, glancing down at her glass. “I like action stuff. Or, like, those cheesy ‘90s sci-fi movies.”

Your eyes lit up, and you laughed softly. “Cheesy sci-fi? I didn’t peg you for the nostalgic type.”

Ellie shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “I guess I like stuff that doesn’t take itself too seriously.”

You smiled at that, your gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “I like that,” you said softly, leaning just a little closer.

Ellie’s breath hitched.

“So, tell me,” you continued, your tone light but teasing. “Is this the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while? Or do you have a secret life I don’t know about?”

Ellie smirked, grateful for the chance to deflect. “Oh, yeah. Totally. My life’s a non-stop thrill ride.”

You laughed, and the sound sent a warm, electric buzz through Ellie’s chest.

“Well,” you said, setting your glass on the table, “I’m glad I could add a little excitement to your day.”

Ellie’s gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in your eyes—something that made her stomach flip.

“Me too,” she admitted, her voice quieter than she intended.

Your smile softened, and you tilted your head slightly. “You’re fun to talk to, Ellie. I’m glad we did this.”

Ellie swallowed hard, her grip tightening on her glass. She was sure you could hear her heart hammering in her chest, but you didn’t seem to notice—or maybe you did, and you just didn’t care.

“Want to pick the movie?” you asked, breaking the tension with an easy grin.

“Uh, sure,” Ellie mumbled, grateful for the distraction.

As you handed her the remote, your fingers brushed hers briefly, and Ellie’s pulse skyrocketed. She glanced at you, but you were already leaning back against the couch, your expression unreadable but relaxed.

Maybe this was all just casual for you. But for Ellie, it felt like standing on the edge of something she didn’t fully understand, her heart caught somewhere between hope and terror.

Ellie scrolled through the options on your streaming platform, pretending to be engrossed in picking a movie. In reality, her thoughts were racing. Sitting here next to you, in your soft, glowing space, felt surreal. You sipped your water slowly, completely at ease, while Ellie fought to keep her hands steady.

"How about this one?" Ellie asked, settling on some over-the-top alien invasion movie from the ‘90s.

“Perfect choice,” you said, scooting closer to grab a blanket from the armrest. You tossed it over both your laps, and Ellie tensed for half a second before forcing herself to relax.

The movie played, but Ellie barely noticed. She was too aware of you—how close you were, how your perfume seemed stronger here, how you laughed at the ridiculous dialogue.

At one point, you nudged her lightly with your elbow. “You’re awfully quiet. Are you actually watching, or did I bore you to death already?”

Ellie glanced at you, startled by the proximity. “What? No, I’m watching. It’s… cool.”

Your lips quirked up in a teasing smile. “Sure you are.”

She tried to focus after that, but the movie eventually ended, and the reality of being in your apartment settled back over her like a weight. You stretched your arms above your head as the credits rolled, the hem of your top lifting slightly, exposing a sliver of skin. Ellie glanced away so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

“Well,” you said, standing and collecting the empty glasses. “That was fun. You’ve got great taste in movies, Ellie.”

“Uh, thanks,” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck.

When you returned from the kitchen, you lingered near the couch, a thoughtful look on your face. “Hey,” you said suddenly, your voice casual but carrying an undercurrent of excitement. “What are you doing tonight?”

Ellie blinked up at you. “Tonight?”

“Yeah.” You shifted your weight, your smile turning playful. “A few of my friends and I are going out to this club downtown. You should come with us.”

Ellie stared, her brain short-circuiting. “I don’t think… I mean, I’m not really a club person.”

“Oh, come on.” You flopped back onto the couch beside her, close enough that your knee brushed hers. “You don’t have to dance or anything if you don’t want to. Just hang out, meet some new people. I think my friends are really going to like you.”

Her stomach flipped. “You… you do?”

“Of course,” you said, tilting your head to study her. “You’re fun, Ellie. And besides…” Your smile turned sly. “I think it’s about time you had a little more excitement in your life. Don’t you?”

Ellie hesitated, torn between her natural instinct to retreat and the magnetic pull of your invitation. You wanted her to come. You thought your friends would like her. And as terrifying as the idea was, there was also a thrill buried deep in her chest—a tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could belong in your world, even for a night.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ll go.”

Your grin lit up the room. “Great! It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Ellie nodded, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. For once, she wasn’t just watching from the sidelines. She was stepping into your orbit, even if it was only for one night.

The sun had long set by the time Ellie knocked on your door, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain you’d hear it. She had debated what to wear for what felt like hours, finally settling on her usual casual look—fitted black jeans, a vintage band tee, and her trusty beat-up sneakers. She tugged nervously at her jacket, wondering if she’d dressed too plain.

Then you opened the door.

Ellie froze.

You stood there, a vision of confidence and sparkle, dressed in pink from head to toe. Your rhinestone-studded pencil skirt caught the hallway light, glittering with every tiny shift of your body. The fur tube top hugged your figure, while the cropped jacket added a playful touch. And the gogo boots? Ellie thought she might combust on the spot.

“Well?” you asked, striking a playful pose. “What do you think?”

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed uselessly before she managed to blurt out, “You look… wow.”

You laughed, a sound that felt like warm honey in her ears. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You definitely should,” Ellie said, her voice quieter this time. She couldn’t take her eyes off you.

You grabbed a small clutch from the table by the door and gestured for her to follow. “Come on, my friends are probably already at the club. But first, we’re taking a selfie—can’t let this outfit go undocumented.”

Before Ellie could protest, you pulled out your phone and leaned in close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Your perfume was intoxicating, and Ellie barely managed to smile as you snapped the photo.

“There,” you said, inspecting the picture. “Perfect.”

Ellie wasn’t sure she’d ever looked as good as she did standing next to you.

The club was loud, packed with people, and bathed in neon lights that shifted between deep purples and electric blues. Ellie stayed close to you, her senses overwhelmed by the thrum of bass and the press of bodies.

Your friends greeted you with a chorus of cheers, pulling you into hugs and complimenting your outfit. Ellie hovered awkwardly at the edge of the group, feeling distinctly out of place.

“And who’s this?” one of your friends asked, her gaze sliding to Ellie with a curious smile.

“This,” you said, wrapping an arm around Ellie’s shoulders again, “is Ellie. My super cool neighbor.”

Ellie gave a small wave, muttering, “Hey,” under her breath.

“She’s adorable,” another friend said, and Ellie’s cheeks flushed crimson.

“Right?” you agreed, grinning at her. “I told you you’d like her.”

Ellie felt her heart stutter at your words.

You led her to the bar, ordering drinks for both of you before leaning close to speak over the music. “You okay?”

Ellie nodded, though her hands were clenched tightly around her glass. “Yeah. This is just… a lot.”

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You’re doing great. Just stick with me.”

Ellie stared at you, captivated by how effortlessly you seemed to belong in this space. She felt clumsy and out of place, but somehow, when you looked at her like that, it didn’t seem to matter as much.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the dance floor. “One song. Humor me.”

Ellie’s protests were swallowed by the music as you led her into the throng of moving bodies. The heat, the lights, the closeness of you—it was overwhelming, but it was you, and that made it okay.

You danced with an easy grace, your skirt shimmering under the lights. Ellie swayed awkwardly at first, but then your hands found hers, tugging her closer, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” you said, your voice barely audible over the music. “You’re not half bad.”

Ellie laughed, a sound that felt foreign and freeing all at once. Maybe, just for tonight, she could be part of your world.

The night outside the club was warm, the city alive with sounds of distant laughter and honking taxis. You stood with Ellie as your friends piled into a cab, their energy still buzzing from the night. You leaned into the car window, giving them a dramatic wave goodbye.

“Text me when you get home!” you called, your words slightly slurred from the cocktails you’d had earlier.

They shouted their farewells, and the cab pulled away, leaving you and Ellie standing on the curb. You turned to her, still riding the high of the night, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright.

“That was fun, huh?” you said, swaying slightly on your heels.

Ellie gave you a small smile, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad.”

You laughed. “Not bad? You were dancing like nobody’s business back there.”

She ducked her head, her cheeks reddening. “Only because you made me.”

“Well, you were good at it,” you teased. “Better than you give yourself credit for.”

Ellie mumbled something under her breath, her grin barely hidden.

“Anyway,” you said, stretching your arms above your head, “we should probably head back too. It’s late, and—”

“Hey there,” a voice interrupted.

You turned to see a tall girl approaching, her confidence palpable. She had long, layered curls that framed her face, a casual smirk playing on her lips. Her dark eyes scanned you up and down, lingering just a bit too long.

“You were killing it in there,” the girl said, her gaze locking onto yours.

“Had to come out and say hi before you disappeared into the night.”

Ellie stiffened beside you, her shoulders straightening as she watched the exchange.

“Oh, thanks,” you said, your voice light, though you could feel Ellie’s eyes burning into the side of your face.

“I’m Mia,” the girl said, leaning in slightly. “And you are?”

“Taken,” you said, without missing a beat, looping your arm through Ellie’s.

Ellie nearly choked, her wide eyes darting to you in shock. She opened her mouth to say something but quickly shut it when you glanced at her with a knowing smile.

Mia blinked, her smirk faltering for a split second before she stepped back. “Oh, uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No harm done,” you said breezily. “But yeah, this one”—you gave Ellie’s arm a gentle squeeze—“is all mine.”

Mia nodded, clearly caught off guard. “Got it. Well, have a good night, then.”

She walked away, and the air felt suddenly lighter. You turned to Ellie, who was staring at you like you’d just grown a second head.

“What?” you asked, grinning.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Ellie stammered. “You just… told her I was… we were—”

“I felt like it,” you said, shrugging as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Ellie gawked at you. “You felt like it?”

“Yeah,” you said, stepping closer to her. “She wasn’t really my type anyway.”

Ellie swallowed, her mind spinning. “And… what is your type?”

You tilted your head, your grin softening. “Hmm. I don’t know. Maybe someone cute.”

Ellie blinked, her heart skipping several beats as you leaned in just slightly.

“Someone like you, maybe,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, you turned on your heel, calling over your shoulder, “Come on, let’s go before the cabs are all taken!”

Ellie stood frozen for a moment, her brain scrambling to catch up. Then, shaking herself out of it, she hurried after you, her face red and her thoughts louder than the city noise around her.

The elevator ride up to your apartment was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old machinery. Ellie stood beside you, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets, her mind still reeling from what you’d said outside the club. Every time she glanced at you—your confident stance, the lingering flush on your cheeks, the way your skirt caught the dim lighting—her heart thudded harder in her chest.

When the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, you stepped out with a playful spring in your step, glancing back at her with a grin. “You coming?”

Ellie blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

She followed you down the hallway, her stomach knotting when you stopped in front of your door. She fully expected you to wave her off and head inside, but instead, you unlocked it and held it open, tilting your head at her.

“Wanna come in for a bit?” you asked casually, like it wasn’t sending her brain into overdrive. “I’m not ready to call it a night yet.”

Ellie hesitated. “I mean… don’t you wanna, like, wind down or something? I don’t wanna bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you said with a shrug, stepping inside. “Come on, Ellie. Or are you afraid of hanging out alone with me?”

That last line hit her like a sucker punch, and she flushed, quickly stepping inside to avoid your teasing smirk.

Your apartment smelled faintly of vanilla and something floral—your perfume, maybe. It was cozy and warm, with soft lighting and little touches of pink scattered around, just like you. Ellie shoved her hands back into her pockets, unsure of where to stand or what to do with herself.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, slipping off your cropped jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. The movement made your fur tube top shift slightly, and Ellie looked away quickly, her cheeks burning.

She hovered awkwardly near the couch until you sat down and patted the cushion beside you. “Don’t just stand there like a statue. Sit.”

Ellie obeyed, sinking into the plush couch and fiddling with the hem of her shirt. You turned to her, tucking one leg beneath you as you leaned closer.

“So, did you have fun tonight?” you asked, your voice softer now.

Ellie nodded, still avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not much of a club person, but it was fun… with you.”

Your smile widened at that, and you nudged her arm. “See? I told you my friends would like you. You’re not as much of a loner as you think.”

She let out a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Maybe.”

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, talking about the night, the music, the people. Ellie found herself opening up more than she expected, her usual guardedness slipping away in your presence. You were magnetic, pulling her in without even trying.

At some point, your hand rested on her knee, a casual touch that sent electricity through her entire body. She froze, her mind spiraling as you leaned closer, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You know,” you said, your voice dropping just slightly, “you’re cute as hell when you’re all flustered like this.”

Ellie’s breath hitched, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure you could hear it. “I—uh…”

You didn’t wait for her to finish whatever garbled excuse she was trying to come up with. Instead, you closed the small gap between you, your lips brushing against hers.

Ellie stiffened for a fraction of a second before melting into the kiss, her hands hesitantly finding their way to your waist. She could taste the faint sweetness of your lip gloss, feel the warmth of your skin under her fingertips.

When you finally pulled back, your faces still inches apart, you smiled. “Told you,” you whispered, “cute as hell.”

Ellie stared at you, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “I… you—”

You grinned, pressing a finger to her lips to shush her. “You don’t have to say anything. Just stay a little longer, okay?”

Ellie nodded, her mind still spinning but her heart full, as you leaned into her again.

The air between you and Ellie was thick with an unspoken tension, the kind that had been building since the moment you invited her inside. The kiss had sparked something, something neither of you could ignore.

You leaned in again, but this time your movements were more deliberate, your hands gently cupping her face as you kissed her slowly, deeply. Ellie's hands were still tentative, unsure of where to touch, but she let them trail down your side, feeling the softness of your skin beneath your shirt.

You pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, the corner of your lips curling into a teasing smile. "You're not as shy as I thought," you said, your voice low, the words laced with an edge of playfulness.

Ellie flushed, but the way she looked at you, the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, told you everything you needed to know. She was drawn to you, pulled in by your warmth, by the way you made her feel alive in a way she'd never felt before.

"I'm not," Ellie said, voice barely above a whisper, her hands now resting on your hips, her fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of your skirt. "But you're making me feel... a little crazy."

You chuckled, running your thumb over her bottom lip, feeling it tremble slightly under your touch. "I like that," you murmured. "I like making you feel crazy."

You leaned in again, this time more forcefully, more insistent, and Ellie met you halfway. She kissed you back, her hands now gripping your waist, pulling you closer. You let her, your bodies aligning in a way that felt so natural, so right.

You broke the kiss to trail your lips down her neck, nipping at the delicate skin there, and Ellie gasped, her fingers tightening around you as she tilted her head back, giving you more access. She was melting beneath your touch, and it drove you wild.

"Ellie," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this." You watched her cheeks flush even deeper, her eyes darkening with desire.

She didn't say anything at first. Instead, she reached for your hand, guiding it down to her thigh, her touch soft but firm, urging you to move further. "I think I have an idea," she whispered, her breath shallow, her body pressed against yours.

You could feel her pulse under your fingertips, feel how close she was to breaking. You smiled against her skin, the heat between you building again as you kissed her, this time more urgently, more greedily. Ellie responded in kind, her hands roaming, her fingers tugging at your clothes as if she couldn't get enough of you.

And for once, neither of you cared about the consequences. All that mattered was the moment the two of you, together, lost in the feeling of something more than just attraction. Something deeper. Something that, for the first time in a long while, felt real.

When you finally pulled away, you grinned, breathless. "So, how do you feel now?" you asked, your voice a teasing whisper, your hands still holding her close.

Ellie smiled, her lips swollen, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Like I'm about to make a very bad decision," she said with a laugh, though there was no doubt in her voice that she didn't want to stop.

"Good," you whispered. "Because I'm not letting you go anytime soon."

And in that moment, Ellie knew she wouldn't want to escape if she could.

There you were, your face between her legs as you kissed her thighs gently. You looked up at her giving her a warm smile that made her melt even more. Oh, she was about to fucking lose it.

It was literally just yesterday night when you’d first spoken to her, and now here you were, between her legs, looking as beautiful as ever. To Ellie, you were nothing short of a goddess, an angel sent straight from heaven—except, maybe, one dipped in a soft, pink glow, shimmering with an almost otherworldly light.

You looked at her one last time, seeking permission, and she nodded softly, her hand gently resting on your head to give you a reassuring pat. 

Without hesitation, you leaned in, your lips brushing against her skin before you slowly let your tongue trace along her, savoring every moment. Both of you were lost in the moment, floating on cloud nine. You savored every inch of her as she arched her back, her hands hesitant at first but then gripping your hair gently. It was a sensation unlike any other, pure and intoxicating.

You tasted Ellie like she was the sweetest indulgence, each moment deliberate, each movement electrified. Your eyes remained fixed on her, captivated by the way her pleasure unfolded—a delicate mix of surrender and ecstasy, written in every arch of her back, every gasp that escaped her lips. It was mesmerizing, the kind of beauty that felt crafted just for you. The realization sent a spark through you, heat pooling low in your stomach as you pressed closer, craving more of her in every way.

Your tongue worked in an unhurried rhythm, alternating between delicate flicks and firm, insistent pulls that had Ellie arching against your touch. Her clit throbbed beneath your mouth, her taste rich and addictive, leaving a sheen on your lips that felt like a mark of devotion. She was intoxicating, each sound she made sinking into your skin, her body responding to you like it was meant for this. And later, when the moment passed and words found their way back, you’d tell her the truth—nothing else had ever felt this right.

Slowly, you pushed her shirt up, and she caught the edge between her teeth, baring her stomach to you with a quiet vulnerability that made your heart race. Her green eyes, shimmering with an unspoken intensity, locked onto yours, her gaze a blend of wonder and desire. She looked utterly breathtaking, a vision of raw beauty that left you spellbound. As your hands ventured higher, fingertips grazing the softness beneath her chest, her breath hitched, her body reacting to your touch like it had never known tenderness before. The way her eyes glistened—filled with trust, passion, and something deeper—made you feel like you were discovering the sacred.

Her mouth fell open, a loud, unrestrained moan spilling from her lips as her body tensed, the sound reverberating through you like a melody. Her shirt slipped back down, settling into place as she came undone, leaving her breathless and utterly radiant in the aftermath.

"God… you're so beautiful like this," you murmured, your voice soft but weighted with awe. Ellie’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson, her breath hitching at the unexpected compliment. She wasn’t used to being called beautiful—pretty, even less so. But coming from you, someone she secretly believed was the embodiment of perfection, the words struck her deeper than she could have ever imagined. She ducked her head slightly, her lips twitching into a shy smile as she tried to process the overwhelming warmth blooming in her chest.

"Do you want me to...?" she asked, her voice hesitant, laced with a mix of uncertainty and desire. Her gaze flickered to yours, searching for an answer.

You shook your head with a soft smile, your voice steady and warm. "I'm fine, Ellie. I just want to make you feel good."

But Ellie wasn’t fine with that. Not entirely. She wanted more than to just take; she wanted to show you, to give back, to make you feel the way you made her feel—wanted, cherished, undone.

Ellie shifted, sitting up on your couch with a newfound determination in her eyes. She reached out, her fingers curling slightly as she gestured for you to come closer. You moved toward her, and she let her hands trail along your sides, her touch reverent, as though she were memorizing every curve of you.

Her gaze lingered, soaking in every detail, and for a moment, she simply stared, awestruck. Then, with deliberate tenderness, she reached for the hem of your top, her fingers brushing against your skin as she began to lift it, her breath hitching like she was unwrapping something magical.

You smiled softly, a flicker of confidence dancing in your eyes as Ellie’s gaze lingered on your bare skin. Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching as though she were looking at something she could scarcely believe was real. You knew you looked good—better than good—and the way she was staring only confirmed it.

Her hands hovered for a moment, uncertain but yearning, and you reached out, gently guiding her touch to you. “It’s okay,” you murmured, your smile deepening. “I’m all yours.”

Something inside her broke free the moment the words left your lips: I’m yours. Ellie surged forward, her lips crashing into yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter. Her hands roamed over your chest, not shy, not hesitant—just desperate to feel, to claim.

She pushed you back, guiding you onto the couch as she hovered over you, her weight grounding you in the moment. Breaking the kiss, her lips found the curve of your neck, her breath warm and unsteady against your skin. She inhaled deeply, her nose brushing against your collarbone as though she could memorize your very essence.

“You’re perfect,” she whispered, the words muffled but heavy with conviction. To Ellie, everything about you—your touch, your scent, the way you looked at her like she was the only one who mattered—was nothing short of magic. And right now, this moment, with you beneath her and the world forgotten, felt utterly sacred.

"Can I go faster?" she asked, her voice laced with care. You nodded in response, a smile tugging at your lips as you felt her attention on you. You couldn’t help but appreciate how she made you feel so at ease. She was everything you’d ever hoped for—gentle, loving, but undeniably skilled in ways that took your breath away.

Her fingers pumped faster, curling and stretching you in ways that had you seeing stars. The couch beneath you shook as she picked up the pace, her movements becoming more frantic. “You're so perfect…” She panted, her breath hot against your ear.

Her free hand reached up to entwine with yours, removing them from her neck, and pinning it above your head as she continued to fill you with her touch. Her fingers moved faster, hitting spots inside you that made you arch your back and cry out. She could feel your nails digging into her arm, holding on for dear life. 

She smiled at your reaction, enjoying the way your body responded to every motion of her fingers. You were just perfect. That’s all she could describe you and this shared moment. You're making the most beautiful noises, her feather-light kisses along your neck… Her next movement pressed against your g-spot, making you shudder.

She found that spot inside you again, rubbing slowly as she curled her fingers upwards. You let out a guttural moan, your body tensing beneath hers as you tried to pull her hand closer. She chuckled softly, the vibrations against your sensitive flesh making you whimper.

Her smile widened mischievously as she heard your whimper. "Look at those pretty eyes rolling back..." She picked up the pace as she sought out that spot again. You thrashed beneath her, your nails raking across her tatted arm. You had always admired her tattooed arm from a distance, but now, being this close, you couldn’t help but notice the way the marks you left on her skin seemed to intertwine with the art on her arm. It was like a piece of her, forever etched in both ink and touch. You wished you could savor this moment forever.

Ellie grinned as she felt your body trembling beneath her, pushing you closer to the edge with each skilled stroke. "Almost there baby?" She whispered, her thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles.

Your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of her fingers inside you and her thumb on your clit. You felt like you were going to explode, your vision blurring as you screamed out in ecstasy. Your pussy clenched around her fingers, milking them for all they're worth as your orgasm crashes over you.

She purred, continuing to stroke through your release, drawing out your pleasure. You were a mess beneath her, your legs shaking and your nails having shredded her arm to ribbons. She smiled, pulling her hand out and admiring the way your essence coated her fingers.

"You okay?" she whispered, her voice soft like the caress of the night wind. She pulled you gently into her lap, your head resting on her chest, your hair tangling in her fingers.

"Never better, Ellie," you whispered back, a smile curving on your lips, the warmth of her touch wrapping around you like a blanket. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the rhythm of her heartbeat and the quiet, steady pulse of the moment.

In her arms, everything felt right. Her presence was a melody, calming your restless thoughts, making you feel like you belonged exactly where you were. The world, in that fleeting moment, was nothing but the two of you, suspended in time, untouched by anything but the softness of each other’s breath.

"You're perfect," she murmured, the words drifting between you like a secret, and you let them linger in the air, a promise that needed no reply.

For a while, there was only silence—beautiful and infinite, woven together by the bond you shared. And in that quiet, you realized you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[sturnioz]

☆ . . . matt is enthralled with the way you're rutting back against him and repeatedly moaning his name, watching as your greedy pussy suctions around his cock.

he's never witnessed you this needy before, and its all because of the beard he's been growing out recently. he knows you like it when he doesn't shave his facial hair — but he never realised that you like it this much.

matt was unsure how to react when your hands fisted the front of his shirt and pleaded him to fuck you when he first walked into your room, and you rubbed your face against the stubbled hairs on his face like a bitch in heat.

he let you undress him first, watching with hooded lids as you ripped off his clothes eagerly before undressing yourself and getting into position, your back facing him as you sunk down on his cock with a whine. his bottom lip catches between his teeth as he watches you bounce, listening to the way you moan and beg for him — humping his lap so vigorously that the bed shakes beneath you both.

matt's tongue prods at his cheek with how you're acting, and he quickly manhandles you into a new position; you on all fours in front of him and him on his knees behind you, rubbing and grabbing at your hips. you're mewling at any skin to skin contact he gives you, drooling on the bed sheets below.

"you're so fuckin' needy today — its pathetic," he scoffs as he shakes his head, and you whine loudly at the insult, slamming your ass back against his hips. "whats up with you? huh?"

"for you, s'all for you!" you wail, sniffling as your lashes clump up with tears.

"for me?" matt hums as he runs his hands up and down your spine before he grabs a fistful of your hair to yank you upwards, your back now flush against his chest and you yelp in surprise, your hands coming around to rest at his hips. hes growling in you ear as he spits, "look at you, kid. look how much of a fuckin' needy slut you are f'me."

you know exactly what he's talking about — your eyes darting towards the mirror opposite your bed, salivating as you watch yourself get fucked in the reflection. your appearance is a wreck; your skin is sweaty and clammy, your makeup is smudged with mascara streaks running down your cheeks, and your hair is ruined.

you really do look pathetic but you love it, and your pussy clamps around matt's cock as he ploughs into you from behind.

"you like this?" matt whispers. "you like bein' desperate?"

"s'all for you.." you repeat, crying out at a particularly rough thrust from matt which almost sends you back down to the bed if it wasn't for the tight grip he has on your hair.

the sounds of skin hitting skin and your pussy squelching with each thrust of his hips is like heaven to your ears, and your fingernails dig into his skin as you try to move back against him but he forces you still, wanting to take control.

a low buzz blends in with the sinful noises and you search for the sound, gaze flitting back to your reflections in the mirror and seeing matt holding one of your vibrators in his hand.

you're a mess now — spluttering out begs and pleads for him to press the head of the vibrator to your neglected clit, wanting him to ruin you completely and he's more than happy to give you what you need without a second thought, the vibrations sending your body in a fit of uncontrollable trembles as he fucks into you while overstimulating your clit.

"ah! fu—ck!" you cry out through hiccups and sniffles, the pleasurable shrill zapping through your body as you arch back against him, the tears spilling down your cheeks.

"there we go, sweetheart — that's it..." matt hums, pressing light kisses to the shell of your ear, his stubble scratching against the skin which makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. "my needy fuckin' girl."

© sturnioz

[arkieve]

Sign | @jegulus-microfic | wc: 1183

Regulus finds him in the storage room sitting on a plastic chair wedged into the narrow space, earbuds in, chuckling at something on his phone. To say Regulus is annoyed is an understatement.

The sudden influx of bright light has him unplugging one ear and peering up at Regulus with an easy smile, which only grates on him further.

“Reg.” Not Reg, Regulus. “You have to look at this!” He angles his screen toward Regulus, who takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Harold.”

“Reginald,” he reciprocates easily.

“That’s not my name.”

“And my name is not Harold. Glad we got that established.” He has the audacity to put his earbud back in, and Regulus, whose patience for him has been dwindling all evening, walks over and grabs his phone, ignoring the indignant “Hey!” he gets in response.

“What are you doing here? I sent you to get sugar 30 minutes ago.”

Harry shrugs, tilting back in his chair. “I got a little sidetracked, you know how it is.”

No, Regulus does not know how it is, because he’s an adult who takes his job seriously, and Harry is a little twerp who cheated his way into employment.

Regulus takes advantage of their height difference, looking down at him, aiming for authority and a smidge of intimidation as he says, “You’re at work. Act like it!”

Harry stands up to his full height, immediately dwarfing Regulus, and Regulus has to hold back the string of curses threatening to spill out of him as he stands his ground. Harry leans forward, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Why you hired this imbecile, I’ll never know,” he huffs indignantly when he comes back out, Harry trailing after him.

“His dad is hot,” Dorcas says from the counter, bills in hand.

Harry groans in disgust from where he’s crouched, grabbing cleaning supplies. “Never say that around me again.”

“Agreed,” Regulus supplies. “Besides, you’re a lesbian.”

“Goes to show you how hot he is. Hey, Harry, he’s picking you up today, right?”

Harry makes a noise of disgust and refuses to answer.

Regulus rolls his eyes, pulling himself up onto the counter and leaning back against his hands. Harry emerges with a rag over his shoulder and a frown etched into his eyebrows. “You’re not helping with cleaning?”

“Please, I’ve practically been working your shift for you. Clean-up is all yours, buddy.” When Harry doesn’t move, he waves him away. “Shoo, off you go, Harold.”

Harry tsks and leaves, grumbling about something to himself.

“Be nice to him,” Dorcas says while handling the register. “He has a crush on you.”

“Gross. He’s like five and the most annoying person I know.”

“He’s fifteen!” Harry calls from where he’s wiping tables. “And he can hear you.”

“He should shut up and get back to work.”

That seems to have the opposite effect on Harry, who stops wiping and leans against the table, arms crossed. “C’mon, Reg, what do you say? Me and you, what’s eight years?”

Regulus opts to ignore him, turning his attention back to Dorcas. “Besides,” he speaks in a considerably lower voice, “I have a–”

“Man,” Dorcas intercepts, making a face. “I know. Everyone knows.”

Regulus smiles stupidly, the heels of his feet tapping the cabinet below as he starts dangling his legs in giddiness. “Do they?”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t really have him, not yet at least. We’ve only been on, like, three dates, but soon. I’m locking him down, Dorcas, just you wait.”

“What’re you gonna do? Baby-trap him?”

Regulus hums, then shakes his head. “No, but did you know he’s a single father? He’s so present in his son’s life, it’s…” Regulus trails off, a glazed look in his eyes.

“Careful, your daddy issues are showing,” she says, whacking Regulus’ thigh in chastisement. “How old is this guy anyway?” 

“He’s thirty.” When Dorcas raises an eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. “What’s seven years?” The moment the words leave his mouth, his face contorts in disgust. 

Dorcas throws her head back laughing. 

When Harry takes his sweet time with the clean-up, Regulus joins in and helps mop the floor. Before long, they’re done, and Dorcas and Harry head out back to get dressed to go home, while Regulus does some minor dusting.

The door should be locked at this time; even so, the “Closed” sign should be enough to deter potential customers. As it is, the door is open, and the person who enters apparently cannot read because the bell above the door chimes and in comes– James?

Regulus is confused, but he hugs James all the same, and James reciprocates, holding Regulus close. They stay close even after parting.

“What are you doing here?” Regulus asks, cradling James’ stubbled cheek. James’ hand comes up to hold his.

A mixture of confusion and amusement crosses James’ face as he asks, “What are you doing here?”

Now Regulus is even more confused. He takes a step back and gestures to the apron around his waist with the logo on it, and it seems to dawn on James then.

“You... work here.” He’s making a face, one Regulus doesn’t understand.

“Yeah,” he says, suddenly feeling insecure. He knows James has a fancy office job, pretty settled with his life in general, while Regulus is in between things, not sure, really, where he’s going in life. It didn’t really hit him that it was going to be an issue until now. He must be making a face, because James quickly recovers and moves toward him.

“Hey, no, I–”

“Dad!” Harry rounds the counter, outerwear on and bag slung over his shoulder, and Regulus’ brain glitches, overheats, crashes, and reboots.

Dad.

Dad.

Dad.

Harry must’ve picked up on the vibes because he stops a few steps short of them and eyes them warily, gaze shifting back and forth between them questioningly. “What’s going on…?”

“Dad,” Regulus’ malfunctioning brain manages. 

“I told you about my son, remember?” James sounds stilted, mechanical, like the whole ordeal is as mortifying to him as it is to Regulus.

“Uhh… what?” Comes Harry’s response, which goes ignored. “What is this?”

“You told me about your baby.”

“Yes,” James nods, color returning to his face.

“No…” Harry looks increasingly distraught, shaking his head. “Dad, you did not!” He rounds on his… father. 

Regulus is going to be sick.

“James,” Regulus manages steadily. “That is not a baby.”

Harry is making wounded noises and gagging in the background.

“I’m his father, he’ll always be my baby.”

Regulus shakes his head, pointing to his annoying co-worker, who has now taken to throwing himself to the floor in a dramatic flurry and crying out, Someone has to kill me. I refuse to live another day!

“That is a grown man.” Despite what his current antics suggest.

James smiles sheepishly, poking Harry with his shoe, urging him to get up.

Dorcas comes out then, scarf in hand, and takes one look at Harry on the floor, dry-heaving on the tiles, and the mortifying looks on Regulus’ and James’ faces, and everything clicks immediately. 

“Oh, this is gold!”

[kirby-derb]

The sound of boots pounding against concrete echoed in the night as you and Simon sprinted across the rooftop. The city lights glowed dimly beneath the thick fog, casting long shadows across your path. The group of assassins chasing you wasn’t far behind, their voices barking orders through the air like hunting dogs closing in on their prey.

Simon glanced back, his face set in a grim mask. "Keep moving!" he barked, his deep voice cutting through your growing fatigue.

Ahead, a gap between the buildings yawned wide, an alleyway that seemed impossibly vast. Simon didn’t hesitate. With a powerful leap, he cleared the chasm, landing solidly on the opposite roof. He rolled to absorb the impact, then scrambled to his feet, immediately turning back to you.

“Come on!” he shouted, holding out a hand.

Your chest heaved, every muscle in your legs screaming from exertion. You pushed yourself harder, barreling toward the edge. But as you launched yourself into the air, Simon’s eyes widened. You weren’t going to make it.

“Damn it.” he growled. Without hesitation, he grabbed the rope he’d secured moments earlier to a vent pipe and dove back toward the gap, swinging down to meet you mid-air.

Your stomach flipped as you realized he wasn’t on solid ground anymore, his arms reaching out like a lifeline. Gravity yanked you downward, but then his hands caught your wrist, iron-strong and unyielding.

“I’ve got you!” he grunted, his muscles straining as the rope swung the two of you into the side of the building.

Your breath hitched as you dangled, the city spinning below. “Simon!”

“Don’t look down!” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. His grip tightened as he wrapped the rope around his other arm, bracing himself.

The pipe groaned above, the weight of you both testing its limits. Simon's face was inches from yours, his dark eyes blazing with determination. “You’re not slipping out of this,” he said, his voice low and steady despite the tension in the air.

With a grunt, he began pulling you up, every movement controlled and deliberate. It felt like an eternity before he finally hoisted you up onto his chest, anchoring you with one arm as he maneuvered the rope.

“Hold on to me,” he ordered.

You clung to him as he climbed back up, his strength almost superhuman as he dragged the two of you onto the roof. When you were finally on solid ground, he collapsed beside you, both of you gasping for breath.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the adrenaline crashing hard. Then Simon turned his head toward you, his mask partially askew, revealing the sharp line of his jaw.

“You ever scare me like that again,” he rasped, no daring to sit up just yet, “and I’ll kill you myself.”

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “Noted.”

His gaze softened as he reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I mean it,” he murmured, quieter now.

“I didn’t plan on it,” you replied, your voice trembling.

He nodded once, then helped you to your feet. “Good,” he said, his tone gruff but his actions gentle. “Now let’s get out of here.”

(THIS FUCKING SCENE THIS THIS THING??? IN MY BRAIN FOR WEEKS.) Anyway, any feedback or anything like that you got I would be super duper thankful for. I'm not new to Tumblr but I am to the writing and posting part, so truly, feedback means sooooo much! BYEEEE

[writers-potion]

Let's Scare Your Readers!

Combine the techniques below with the techniques for building suspense to give your readers a palm-sweating sensation!

Darkness

If absolute darkness doesn't make sense in your story, aim for semi-darkness: dusk, a single lantern/candle, heavily curtained windows, a thick canopy of trees, etc. Flickering lights that create confusing shadows can also be effective.

Let the darkness pool gradually around your MC. Show the night or fog rolling in, the camp-fire subsiding, or the candles burn down one by one.

Examples:

The candle sputtered. The light wavered.

The lamp cast its smoky light on the brick walls.

The night was silent, but for the dry rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.

Sound

Of all the senses, the sense of hearing serves best to create excitement and fear.

the clacking of the villain's boots on the floor tiles, the ticking of the wall clock, a dog barking outside, the roaring of a distant motor, a door slamming somewhere in the house, water dripping from the ceiling, the chair squeaking, the whine of the dentist's drill, the scraping of the knife on a whetstone, a faraway siren wailing the heroine's own heartbeat thudding in her ears.

When the surroundings are dark, your MC will grow to be more aware of the surrounding noise, even if it's not relevant to the plot.

Chill

Make it uncomfortably cold for the MC, and your readers will shiver with them.

powercut cutting off the heating, nightfall naturally bringing in lower temperatures.

winter, evening, a cool breeze that chills everything, survivors running our of fuel, the ceiling fan is over-active, stone builindg/caves/sbuterranean chambers tend to be cold.

Describe how the cold pinpricks the MC's skin, stunting their thinking and making them shiver.

The opposite can also be effective: turn up the temperature using a stove, an overheated motor, or the sweltering sun to make the MC sweat.

Isolation

This is a common technique: let the MC face the monster alone with no external help. It's also easier to limit the resources and escape routes available for the MC.

an abandoned factory, remote mountaintop, the depth of an unexplored cave.

It can also be more everyday locations: a construction site, the sewer, a malfunctioning bathroom.

Meet the Monster

When describing the threat, spread out your descriptions so that (1) the scene has constant action (2) you have material to build up later.

Good details to show:

hands, fingers, nails, talons, claws

the sound of the voice, growl, roar

the smile, teeth

the texture of skin, fur, scales.

Get Visceral

Never tell your readers that the MC is scared. Describe the fright using these physical effects:

the skin crawling, breath stalling, scalp pricking, clenching of the chest, stomach curling, heart thudding, sweat tricking down, clogged throat, pulse in the ears, cold sweat, chills up/down the spine, stomach knotting, breathless, etc.

The Gory Bits

Instead of describing everything, limit yourself to particular details, keeping overall description short. Non-stop gore doesn't shock - its bores.

Create a contrast: the child's mutilated corpse still clutches the doll. The brains from the baby's plt skull spill across the fluffy pink blanket.

Use similes, comparing gruesome buts to something from ordinary life. The intestines look like spaghetti in tomato sauce. The blood spilling from the mouth looks like lipstick.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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[kooyabooya]

INTERLUDE

m reader x haewon // 9k words

You’ll give credit where it’s due.

If not for her, you wouldn’t be here - and if not for you, she would have quit the logistical side of the show business a long, long time ago. 

She's written her own sweet, tragic, but beautiful tale of madness; willing to stay amidst the whirlwinds of shit she’s put herself through, and you can somewhat see as to why. 

It’s when she’s let herself into the space of your apartment, hours past of the usual and typical workday. Most of the reasons in this case have their own tales and periods of reflection the next morning - though, a common thread of events that you’ve been accustomed to is the trail of her heels leading a path to the couch, her handbag tossed off to the opposite end, sinking into the cushions. She’s tired, and very unbothered. 

You’re doing your own pat down not far from her. A jacket’s tossed onto the nearby chair of your dining table; the usual essentials of your phone, wallet, and one of many pairs of glasses also find their place away from your reach. 

“Since when the hell did you snag my keys from me?” You ask, patting down the quartet of pockets to realize the sudden item wasn’t part of the things you rummaged off your body. 

“It’s called sleight of hand, dear.” Haewon says, a phone spinning in the air and to a nearby pillow, “That’s what happens when you leave a key with me after our last outing. Have someone to blame? Let that be yourself.” 

“I was wondering why you were taking longer getting out of the car.” 

“Girls like to take their sweet time.” 

“Your point being?” 

“My point?” She sits up and leans forward, diverting her attention towards one of the gacha items that you got as a gift from one of her clients - a token of gratitude, for being wonderful with me - you recall the memory for a split second, and Haewon keeps on flipping it around between her fingers. “Don’t get too pressed now. It’s not like you would be locked out of your house for that long. Besides, your landlord’s seen me with you more times than he can count. If I were to ask him for the master key, he’d probably say yes.” 

“Speculation,” you breathe, “Honestly, you can try, and I think you could be on his good side for all I know.” 

A few wisps of her hair fall far off the side, and she pulls it back with a single finger. Even in the dimmest of lightings, you can still see the small twinge of her nose pulling back, flaring her nostrils. Then she flicks her eyes back toward you, hooking. “You’ve always let me lead the way, and you’re following not far behind.” 

You’re tending to the cuffs of your shirt, rolling them up just below the elbows. “I do a whole lot more than just my job.” 

“Tch,” Haewon’s got the tip of her tongue on her upper teeth. “You know well enough that it cuts both ways.” 

Almost as if this was practiced on cue, these sliding strides you make as Haewon picks herself up from her seat, it’s like two characters taking center stage. The lighting’s barely peeking through for you to see where everything’s leveled. Doesn’t matter how much effort you put into it, Haewon’s frame is the only thing you see, the weight on your shoulders start to droop from the imaginary weight on them. You can probably settle with how the luminating radiance of the night sky showers her porcelain skin or the way her silhouette molds itself in the meshing colors of this cozy dark blue pooling through behind her. There’s also the fleeting realization that this is your space that she’s nestling in. But you can’t ignore the sudden occasional chill that sweeps through every time she walks in - even when it’s after hours, the effect is still in play. 

Haewon’s treating another few strands of her hair behind her ear before looking down at the small toy on your table top. “Not a bad idea for you to start a collection going.” 

You glance over her shoulder and pull a firm grin across your face. “You know, I was a bit perplexed in why she gave that to me in the first place - after I politely refused so many times.” A shake of your head and a sigh follows instantly after. “But the more I look at it, it’s pretty cute to have. Brings a whole lot of variety in the place right off the bat.” 

Haewon dips her head down, hiding a subtle smirk when touches the tips of her socks on the floor. “I know that you fancy your books and everything but, I was happy that you took her gift in the end.” 

“Expecting me to just say no?” 

“Blind boxes are a life lesson too. People expect one thing and when they don’t get what they want, they’re pretty torn to whether to be happy or not with what they pulled. Now that I think about it, the same lesson can be seen in Forrest Gump when he’s sitting on the bench with the old lady.” 

“A lot of people can resonate with Forrest in that moment. Probably because almost everybody’s got something that they didn’t want in the first place, and I’ll take your word for it.” You slide your hands into your pockets, rolling your shoulders back. “Makes people appreciate the many things they have.” 

Haewon cocks her head towards her left, bringing it back upright once her body’s facing yours. You’re holding your breath here for a second, swallowing a lump of nervousness down your throat. She’s got it all: the intellect, the beauty, the poise. Each and every single one of those thoughts crosses both ways in your mind, it’s been like that since you got paired with her. The authenticity of her presence doubles down what’s written on paper. Like any fool in this scenario, you carry on, thinking about all of the things you’d never thought you’d do with her - the way she tries to hide the growing blush on her face when your arms hold her, how her eyelids lower their guard when you’re closing the proximity to mere inches, how she sighs with a finger pressed to her temple before whipping some of her hair back - adorable, and perfect. There’s really no other way to describe it, or her; even if she’s not very adamant into accepting the meaningful compliments. 

“Maybe you’re right.” Her small frame nestles itself easily at your front and she’s happily dancing her fingers at the pointe end of your necktie, fiddling along with the button beneath it. You’re deluding yourself at the imaginary tug she has on you and she’s barely laid a finger. “Scratch that, I wholeheartedly agree.” 

You’d wish that you could make a quick snapshot back to the very time you first unraveled her in your home, on an evening whim just like this. The proposition of pulling up a mental calendar and ripping off the pages backwards to a full two years of working with her. Though, you’re able to automatically deduce the fact of the time you and her actually spent working together - a good portion of those cases in the sheets which is worth considering - but despite all that, there’s a good report to draw up in your head where the times flowed in fluctuations, much like in a spectrogram. Some of the days with her peaked higher than the rest, and others were on the opposite end of the spectrum. That’s just how this rapport- this relationship was. 

Haewon never really dabbled with the idea of putting a label on this ‘thing’ you have with her. 

It could be a relationship, or maybe it couldn’t. She would always immediately shut down that thought circling around your brain. 

A tried and true method in getting your hopes up. And each and every time she shot your heart down. It would send you in limbo for what feels like an endless string of days, the firm tone with her delivery very clear and straight to the point. You can’t help yourself in waiting for something to change; heck, it’s possibly everything you ever wanted with her. 

It also didn’t help when the people in your inner circle were already in their own walks of life, blooming into something beautiful with their significant others; while you’re sitting off to the side, watching them from a distance as it feels like with every passing day, you’re falling further and further behind. There isn’t enough space in your journal, let alone the selection of drinks to choose from after being downed, but the feeling remains all the same - it’s a harrowing want to fill that depression oh-so desperately. 

“Whatever happened to ‘keeping things professional’?” Dipping your head down as the tip of your nose hovers right above her head, catching the first few whiffs of that oceanic scent used in her shampoo. “Wasn’t it your words exclusively that we would stop what we’re doing now? At this moment?” 

This time, you were the one to raise that wall up, hoping that it’ll stick after being broken down so many times. 

“Mine?” Haewon blurts out once her hands finally reach to the lines of your shoulders, palms sliding along the fabric of your shirt. “What about it? Don’t try to flip this back on me when we were just talking outside in the staircase and then you decided to push me against the door, perch my chin up and-” 

“Haewon.” 

“One night. That one night. You-” 

“Haewon.” You know that she’s primarily the one who likes to repeat herself at times to get her point across, but not tonight.

She sighs, head falling forward in your chest. “Alright, I’ll bite. Yes, those were my words, and I stand by them. She’s trying her hardest to ignore your overwhelming stature, because she knows your truth; she knows, and knows, and knows.“But that doesn’t mean that what I tell you is enough to sway your mind, nor your choice.”

Her words tell you one thing, but her body welled up against yours tells you another. 

“Haewon,” you repeat again, blinking it through. Your voice slightly chokes up when her thumb skates up the line of your jaw, letting her pull get the best of you, breath canvassing the slope where your chin and neck meet. “You’re not helping yourself here.” 

“It’s been a long day,” she admits, kissing you foolishly, her fingers slither to the back of your head. Your hands have a mind of their own while it tries to scrounge up what’s left of her melting figure, humming gently into your skin. “You could’ve like- taken me home, or something. Rather than bring me here, because we both know how this story goes.” 

“Don’t get all sensical with me now,” you say to her, hand quick to her wrist in an attempt to stop her, but she’s seen that card played before. “You were the one to tell me to get the hell out of the office as fast as we could, and here we are.” 

Haewon flashes her eyes at you, narrowing her expression with the simple tilt of her head. “I guess you’re right. Either I call a cab home or have you as my personal driver. Looks like the second option was the best one to pick between the two.” 

“You did look tired.” 

“Because I am.” Her eyebrows ruffle against each other when you drop the blunt response as she returns to the slacked neck along with her wrists. “After the shitstorm with Bae, and then with Sullyoon? God, don’t even get me started. You were there when everything went down.” 

“In fact I was.” 

She scowls with a much more dragged out tone with her voice, the stress pressing down on her lips returning to their familiar parted place. “I’m trying so hard to not think about it, but it’s just- ugh.” 

“A problem to be dealt with tomorrow,” you tell her, hands bringing her closer to your waist. “Just don’t think.” 

“Easy for you to say.” Haewon deadpans, her face shifting flat with dead eyes. “And it’s easier for it to be said than done.” 

“Why not do it, then?” 

“Huh?” 

“I’m asking you to not focus on work for once, genius.” 

“This is me not focusing on work,” she says, pouting, “you’re the one who’s not letting me go in the first place.” 

You manage to look away for a quick second, closing your eyes to fight back the growing cringe rising on your face. “Says the one who waltzed into my house and arms right now.” 

Haewon lets out another dry laugh, resting the side of her face below your collar, pulling down on the slightly untied knot. “Well, I guess I can let you have that over me. I’ll admit that.” 

A deep inhale puffs up your chest as you’re carding your fingers into those coffee brown locks of her hair, massaging her temple. 

“Consider that to be one of your few wins against my arguments. Why bother tell you my personal thoughts about the details we talked about in the meetings earlier, or even in the office.” She sighs again deeply, burrowing herself into your embrace. “What I would do to give that pretty dumbass a-” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve already said that to her earlier, by the way.” 

Haewon looks up again, recalling for a quick second, closing her lips before sounding a simple hum. “Right, I guess I did.” 

“You don’t have to handle this all by yourself, you know.” 

“What if I want to, hm?” She beams. The flip in her mood is always an anomaly in the way that she’s brushing herself up closer to you. “You know my business - my affairs, but I didn’t tell you all of them.” 

You’re well familiar with the playing field she’s setting up here. It’s a battleground that’s seen it all between the two of you, the losses outweighing the victories (and by an overwhelming margin on her end too). She’s always the one to initiate, to set up, your thoughts already getting ahead with the same downward tilt of your head, hands caressing the fabric of her skirt, finding a familiar hold of her hips like one would always do at the start of every slow dance. 

Of course you stay silent, blinking. “Well- Haewon, I’ve got no other choice but to hear you ramble all about them, since it’s my job.” 

“You know most of them.” 

“Like you said: most.” 

Haewon rests herself into you, the lines of tape gradually coming undone. The scent of her shampoo hits your nose a little bit harder this time, her palms sliding up across your chest again. She innocently tilts her head up, parting her lips; tiny, rosy, and dangerously inviting. You have no other thought filling your mind but to lift her up and capture her all to yourself. 

Her lips are like putty - easy to form and mold into the shape that you like. But you pull yourself back, a last line of defense before her eyes and hands have their own say. “Could you say that this is a choice too?” 

“Hm.” She tilts herself upwards into the line of your neck, each quick kiss sending both your heart and mind into echelons higher than cloud nine, melting with every touch until she has your head in between her palms, holding you gently. The blinks she gives are slow, and her breath hitting your face leaves you to your own devices. “What you do with me is always a choice.” 

You retreat for a moment, pulling yourself far away where you can, Haewon’s body still within reach in your arms, forming a wall of air between the space of your chest and hers. “I feel like what we do is already risky as it seems, no? Sure, we see each other on a regular basis, deal with what needs to be done with the day, talking to clients, making sure things are right for the events, going back and forth with no definite pause in between.” Didn’t matter if she was out of the country or mere inches away from you, she’s always about work it seems - like that was the only mode programmed in her mind. “More often than not, I’m treating what damage is done which usually ends up with a few bottles of beer and don’t even get me started on how bad of a lightweight you are-” 

“Uh, rude.” Haewon pays no attention to you. Her thumb grazes your cheek again, and you can’t help the way that you’re leaning into her touch, once realizing that what you said might be too much. You feel your head being reeled in lower and lower, until you feel the tip of her nose hit the cuff of your ear. “But you’re not wrong, and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me that way.” 

Nodding was something that you always used to acknowledge her opinions or thoughts, and it isn’t any different here. 

However, your hands are playing a different role: traversing their way into the two small divots below the small of her back, resting just right above her ass. She’s getting herself more and more comfortable, undoing the first three buttons of her shirt, inviting you to dive into the new opening. You keep on gazing into her slightly swollen lips, studying at how quickly her tongue wets the bottom part, and you draw another swift inhale past your teeth before answering, “There’s no need for you to apologize, especially to me.”

Haewon keeps on pulling the undone tie, the knot basically nonexistent the more she pulls down, eventually sliding it out of your collar and onto the floor. She gives it a quick glance when it pools over her feet and yours, and her lapin eyes land on yours again, bottom lip captured between her teeth. “I just feel bad, you know? And part of me thinks that it’s only a matter of time until you’ve had enough and want to-” 

You shut her up before she keeps up the self-lament, meshing her lips against yours, wanting her to be persuaded in a different manner - one with less words and more actions. 

Drawing back, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And even if I ever had the chance to, I’d straight up say no.” 

“Look at you, so easygoing.”

“I-” 

“At some point,” she breathes, ghosting her face over yours, tugging on that want for you to chase after. “I’d thought you’d give up on forgiving me.” 

“For?” 

“Anything, really.” Haewon answers admittedly. “Whether it’s here or in the office, you have that same look in your eyes, the one filled with sorrow. It hurt me a bit.” 

Maybe right now would be the time to remind her that what she’s thinking is nothing but complete bullshit. 

So you lean down again, and pull her close. Another snapshot taken in the back of your mind. 

Two years is a long time. Two years of the same routine over and over, of working with her, unwinding after the long hours hidden away from everyone else, watching her work herself down to the bone, doing all of these things as if she’s going to die in the next five seconds if she doesn’t keep going. She’s rising to every occasion that she can, moving so fast that you can’t even bear to keep up with her. You’d admire from a distance, in awe, all while you’re at her right-hand side, unwilling to say anything to her. Obviously when she needed to get her mind off of something, or everything for that matter, she wasn’t the kind of person to be upfront about what she wants and let you read into the signs. Luckily, you’ve always noticed at a glance, and even if she isn’t the one to puff out her lips and kiss you first. No. Never. That’s a luxury that’s reserved for you and only you. Because all it takes is one look into your eyes, and the way she’s broken you down like this, she’s very aware of what your downfall is: her. 

All of this is a continuation of a growing culmination, her own personal anthology sprouted from her brain, one which you’ve caught wind of gradually. 

When you’re kissing into her again, hard, you start to feel everything around you collapse. It’s in the way that she smiles against your lips, matching every curve you give her - it’s amazing, and you could write poems of all the good things about Haewon - you’re reminded again and again how out of all the moments in the high achieving days and miserable nights, these instances feel just right. She’s drawing air into her nose, grazing your cheek, never wanting to pull each other away; until you’re sucking the oxygen out of each other’s mouths that leaves the both of you suffocating a bit. It’s all foolish, maybe just a bit, and to hell with the consequences awaiting you at the end of the bridge, because she knows that she’ll be in a safe place as long as it’s with you. 

The arch in her back rises, and you’re clinging tighter into her smaller frame, shoulder bunching up next to her neck, making it easier for you to hold. You can tell her breaths and hums are getting desperate, her own little mess up the more she melts into you. 

You’re not helping her in this situation, and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve done this to her. She’s hooking her arm well around your neck, the only line of support while you’re taking care of the rest, letting her wrists fall slack as you keep on your loving siege on her lips. 

She’s had a rough one this week. A red eye flight back from a fashion week, an entire day of going to ten different locations with one of her top clients, then there’s the whole incident with Bae and Sullyoon back to back. Amongst all of those things, you’d wish that you’d sweep her away for just a second and take her mind off from all the pressures and stress (and you definitely wished you didn’t wait until now to finally do it). 

“Mmmm,” Haewon lets her voice rumble in her throat, tightening her grip in the back of your collar, signaling you to pull away. When you do, her eyes pool into yours, shimmering pupils working overtime to map out the lines of your face. You could feel the heat from her cheeks grow warmer. Her eyes cross for a second. She lets her head go crestfallen, pulling this one smile, her simplest smile, the rarest one she could ever have that not a lot of people have had the pleasure of seeing. The gentlest and most genuine one that she could have, it sells the whole thing to you. Despite her tough shell, you realize that she’s one of the rare few that sends your heart flipping, every time she’s got your guard lowered - exactly in the way like this - it’s impossible to ignore the outshining tempts when all of your inhibitions are at their lowest. 

Her head goes one side, and then the opposite, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this.” 

Today’s been one of those days. You’re tired, even beyond tired. If she didn’t come with you, the bed would’ve been full by now. Two years of the on and off and the off and on, it’s draining. You don’t say anything, as always. Instead, you swoop down beneath her thighs and carry her, taking her lips all to yourself. 

She hums this heavenly noise when you press her against the wall, her legs hooking to a familiar spot where it hasn’t been in a while. Some of the buttons in her shirt come more undone not to your knowledge, but you play the counterpart when tending to the clip and zipper of her skirt. Luckily your body can work in two places at once, returning your focus to Haewon’s face, a sweep of her tongue over your bottom lip. 

The pressure to her waist is not too little nor too much, but just the right amount of press when your leg plays this momentary support underneath her legs, helping her slip out of her shirt while she does the same to you. Almost like you’re opening the pages of a book you finished reading, but flipping through to a certain part like the untouched skin of her chest with her simple black bra playing as the final back line of garments waiting to be discarded. She does that part all by herself, indulging on the breadth of her collarbone, forcing her to bite down a soft moan. 

Haewon here isn't one to play nice. There’s a bit of a tug-of-war going on with your mouths until you gnaw on her lips a bit too hard, wanting you to do that again the way her face is chasing after yours. But her eyes find their place in line again, gaze softening - you’re cursing at yourself because of how beautiful she looks like this. She’s always been one to have a heart of steel, create that dam covering her fragile trust, her arms wrap you in her embrace, eyes hinting at a sign of concern. The flame in your heart has gone cold, but she’s always been the one fanning the fire back to life. 

When you let her down gently, back sliding against the smooth drywall, her arms shift over her head - opening up the area of her midriff to see, to feel. Your palms have never felt anything smoother until they’re slipping the skirt off from her hips, curling over the waistband of her underwear and she fills the open space between your mouths, “fix me up baby, please.” 

Most of her solid-colored panties get caught between your knuckles, skating down her thigh - you’re hunting, searching, till you reach that empowering heat between her thighs. You could feel the top part of her forearm press firmly on the nape of your neck while one of her shoulder blades drags itself against the wall behind her. 

A drag up, then down across her folds, and she rasps. 

You get a finger in, maybe two just to test, feeling her body tense and grasp and hook onto anything within her reach. Little by little, piece by piece, Haewon’s gradually reduced to these mere meeked noises and hums the more your hands and lips begin their grand assault across the fine canvas of her body. The wetness consumes your fingers, and your mouth increasingly gets greedy as you’re nibbling away at the firm mound of her now exposed breasts, her bra gone in one swift move, mind focusing on too many feelings all at once. 

Her head lolls up and over, opening up the left side of her neck for you to take, gasping. She can’t stop squirming in place, and you’ll deal with that soon enough. “I love your hands,” she sighs. “God, you sure know how to satisfy a woman.” 

Your brain is working on the clock, finding all of the niche places and spots on her body to get her needy for more, and she’s playing spectator, the pad of your tongue swipes upward at the midline of her chest, capturing the hard bud of her nipple between your thumb and index, twisting without a care of her quick pain. 

Haewon gets both of her hands around your head, pulling you up from drowning beneath her neck, showering your face with kisses, forehead pressing against yours, “Happy with your reward?” 

You’ll give credit where it’s due. You hate how intoxicating she is with the snarky remarks and fast banter, but you love how simple she is to break down - send her mind into a downward spiral. She could let you ruin her life, and it would be the same for you. 

It takes a moment too long to consider, your brain is running through the playbook of all the moves and positions you could have her in, which spot in your house would be the most ideal place to simply just bend her over and tear her insides apart until she won’t be able to walk or think straight. A woman like her: clothes pooled and scattered everywhere at her feet, swollen lips and tattered skin just waiting to be ruined. 

Haewon knows you well, where all she has to do is say something to snap your attention back to her: “How do you want me?” 

She’s selfish, there’s no denying that. Though, she doesn’t really care what you think when she’s kissing you shamelessly once more, smushing and smacking her lips across your face, letting her have her way and to sink into her body again. But here is where she forgets, another callback of the few other times she got too ahead of the curve too soon- 

“I think I find you to be prettier when you’re like this,” you tell her, quickly sinking down to your knees moving her thighs over your shoulders; get your face close to that warm, delightful fountain between her thighs when you lift her up from the floor, holding her there. 

-to realize that you too, are also selfish in your own accord; at some point, there’s a time to prove who has what between the two of you, and the sigh of acknowledgment slipping out of her lips gives just enough that you’re doing something right. 

It all could’ve gone wrong for Haewon at any given point in the time you’ve been working with her. All it took was a few mishaps both in and out of her control and she would’ve snapped. In those dire times of need, she had you. Whether it’d be your mouth or your fingers, the way you settle into these well-practiced strokes of your tongue and cock, and she loves to travel down the little rite of passage when you shut her up with a palm on her mouth or a hand to her throat. She knows that you have your limits, and it’s all in her cards for when she’s able to unshackle you from your common sensibilities. A hand is raked into your hair as you’re shifting your head closer and closer, until your breath starts to blanket her leaking entrance, awaiting for your arrival. 

There’s a few mumbles spilling out of her lips when you gently kiss her folds, brush your nose right up against her clit, to where her head bucks forward, giving an unintentional style of wispy bangs the more your mouth starts to scoop up the mess that you’ve created. Her hips buck and jerk, pressing your head deeper into her quivering pussy lips, wanting to get that ache so much faster than intended. 

“God, yes baby- right there,” is all she says, and she can barely manage to prop her head upright when you look up from below. 

A chuckle leaves your nose, arming a coy smile before you carry on your attention onto her swollen clit, sucking and teasing on it shamelessly until you start to feel the insides of her thighs shake against your ears, digging her nails deep into your scalp. 

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, feeling the pressure of Haewon’s legs crushing your skull from within. “Looks like you’ve been pent up for a while now, no?” 

Haewon digs a heel into your back, making you secure the tops of her thighs with your fingers, hitting her head back on the wall. “Among other things.” 

“Really.” You reply flatly, giving her another swift lick of your tongue into her aching cunt, her slick pooling across the wet pad. “Because judging how your body’s reacting, you’ve been wanting me badly since the last time.” 

“Sounds perfectly right.” 

She loses that hefty persona pretty damn quickly when you’re diving into her pussy again, stifling a moan, grinding  her hips into your head, wanting you to keep on licking until she’s had enough (spoiler alert: she hasn’t.) “Do tell me more,” you’re telling her, smacking your lips to the heat, “if you’re able to, of course.” 

“Seriously. Fuck you.” 

“Says the one who’s technically my boss.” 

“Not when it’s after hours I’m not.” 

“What are you implying?” 

Haewon’s eyes squint a bit, trying to keep focus, doubling down on the indulgence of your tongue over her folds. Her face is in a rosy shade of pink, similar to when she’s usually drunk - but this shade however, you’d prefer to see her more in. “Stop pretending to play dumb. I know you can read between the lines here.” 

“And what if I want to be oblivious for once? Like in every situation that we’re in while at work?” 

“You’re not, ah-” 

You’re not giving her any chance to breathe here. She doesn’t deserve it. And when you lather her pussy up in your spit, it’s less than an act of mercy, helplessly whining at the harshful gnawing you’re doing to her poor cunt - it’s what she wants, and she has no one to blame for making you like this but herself. 

“If you’re not my boss during these hours, then what are you?” You inquire.

“I’ll be anything but your boss. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

That’s all the confirmation that you needed, forcefully plummeting her down to her inevitable demise. You feel the muscles in her thighs clench in shock from the unexpected anticipation, biting down her shriek the more you dive into the endless depths of her entrance, satisfying that want that you and her so desperately wanted. 

“Oh,” Haewon sighs out as some epiphany. But the moment of relief washes over her in no time, her layers folding. Collapsing. Her entire body wiggles in this circular motion. “Oh.” 

The heavenly chorus of her mewls fill your ears when you’re cementing your pace, wreaking havoc between her thighs. She’s still got her hand gripping the back of your head, the other flat on the wall. Her stomach bucks and folds at the weight of your tongue, moving your head around in different directions to make sure that you’re hitting every spot with the right approach. The pleasure is building in all of the right places, and you can feel the curl of her toes on your back, ensuring that you’re doing the exact job as her personal toy. “Fuck. Right there, right there.”��

It only increases the flood by tenfold. She’s spilling more and more you kiss, swirl, nibble, and tease - doing everything you can to make sure she reaches that unimaginable peak first. “You’re so good. You’re so so good. Baby- don’t stop, oh my god-” 

Haewon can’t help herself here, leaning her back deeper into the wall and dragging her hips outward, keeping both legs on your shoulders to the best that she can, unable to let up with the bucks and jolts her hips are making into your face. Every quick rush of air past her teeth only holds so much until she starts to feel her stomach bunch up in knots. 

“T-tongue, dear. Oh jesus, you’re so good at- fuck!” she yelps, the tailends of her breaths tattered in these hushed moans, picking up in volume the more you slurp up her pussy to your heart’s content. “Almost, almost.” 

You’re well aware of the fact that Haewon is one of the main catalysts when it comes to operating her job. She’s second to none. The standard. The spearhead. She’s got one of the most sizable clientele’s for a reason. But the jaws of work can consume anybody in this climate, no matter how on top or perfect they can be. It would only be a matter of time for the fatigue to get to her - and with the recent events happening around the office, it did just that. Everyone needs a break from time to time, and she’s no different here. A tongue laps up one spot past the clit, there’s a nibble of her swollen folds between your teeth, and here is where you step up to the role of ensuring that Haewon gets her much deserved intermission here. 

“Right there, I’m gonna-ah! -umming,” Haewon wails, failing to let up with the oral assault on her quivering cunt, her cries filling up your ears, the muscles of her legs locking your back in place, fingers tugging the roots of your hair. “Cumming. I’m fucking cumming.”

These puppy eyes you do to look up, she gazes down, bottom lip still stuck to her teeth as her expression tears, coming down from her needed stress relief. You stay the course in holding her steady, taking account of the lingering twitches and tensions of muscle her body does. 

And not long after, you finally let her down from the wall. Her arms slither around the familiar profiles of your back, lazily planting her lips onto your skin again - Haewon wants another taste of you. It’s also kind of cute how her toes stack up on top of your feet, prompting you to lead the way into the bedroom while she’s closely tethered to you. 

“Love it. Love it so much.” Haewon sighs out, half-lidded eyes caught in your vision. “Love it when you make me cum like that.” 

It’s one of the few moments where she doesn’t expect a response from you, because it’s already true. 

Above everything, you carry on with your steps as Haewon’s lips continue to spell out these hushed curses - all the things that she wants you to do to her - her fantasies, the praises, what she likes you doing and what she wants to do to you with the intent of returning the favor. Her figure is so light in your hands and on your feet, limbs loose enough to bend and twist, a marked up canvas ready for another brush-to-paper moment. 

Gravity here does it’s own thing when she falls backward onto the mattress of your room, her arms doing this natural reflex of going above her head, carving up these unbelievable curves in real time to where her back is off the comforters and her left foot is inching up against her inner right thigh. This image alone was enough for you to mindlessly slip out of your pants and underwear, eyes fixed on Haewon rolling her body: belly facing down, back up, her knees dig deep into the sheets, the upper half stretching a bit while her lower half rises up past your thighs, rounding out her hips. 

Her knees spread wider across the sheets and her back dips, you think - just a bit, and the look she does over her shoulder is the right amount of lethality. You don’t even flinch when she manages to get her fingers onto the length of your cock, telling you the only thing she wants you to do: 

“Take this cock and fuck me.” 

You’d follow her words no matter what. 

Like a siren’s call out in the sea, the sound of Haewon’s voice comes off as this daring risk where the mind starts to slowly reduce itself around her hand, languidly pumping you to the point where the urge to rip the fun out of her is impossible to ignore. 

“I’ve always wondered,” she starts to say. 

You lean down to shower a few kisses to her neck, fingers sliding up to her waist, pressing for a firm hold while an airy giggle passes her lips. 

“How long have you dealt with me? Being like this? 

“Where would I even start?” You hunch over with a trail of kisses down her lower back, cupping the swell of her ass while noting that most of her slick has spread past the underside and to the back of her thighs. “I don’t even remember who made the first move back then.” 

Haewon reaches out for one of your pillows, setting it between her arms and chest, “I’m sure it was you, or maybe it was me. Maybe-” 

A wistful gasp stops her from talking when you slowly press your cock into her leaking pussy, lips slicked up and inviting between those lovely thighs of hers. You drink in the sight of the grip she has around your length as you continue to ease yourself into her, keeping it together poorly before the heat and her pulse gets to your head. 

“Maybe what?” you tell her, attempting to bring back her train of thought from fleeing away. 

This girl who’s backside is arched so high up in the air and stomach buried deep into the sheets looks over her shoulder again, eyes filled with tension - a fire blazing beneath the irises. “Maybe- you were just oblivious about the signals I was sending you, but now that we’re here, I guess you can say that you made the curve.” 

“I won’t deny anything here-” Everything about this is the reality, anyway. You drag and push yourself into the fluttering heat of her second pair of lips. Her body is so responsive in the wants and needs just from the wetness alone, but she knows that you’re not easy to take. “That was an argument I lost a while ago.” 

Your hips flush with Haewon’s and she whines, shoving her face into the pillow set in front of her as she relaxes into the stable pace. A simple yank of her waist back to your thighs serves the only preamble, the quick groan ripped out of your chest, that rush of wanting this tightness and addicting feeling more and more. 

“Right?” You’re asking again, meshing her hips with yours, leaning forward and down to the nape of her neck. Sighs joining together in an impromptu chorus, “I’m not denying you winning me over.” 

Haewon’s hands here go a bit haywire, shooting up and out. One of them comes to grips with the comforter beneath her. You watch her body move, ass rippling through every pump back into her cunt. “Yeah, but you-” 

Her head then dips down into the pillow again, writhing in the twists left and right. You catch yourself hobbling over her upper body once more, lip trapped to your teeth. “You said ‘yeah’. Let’s keep it that way.” 

A gradual rhythm gets developed here, taking in every wonderful inch of Haewon’s dripping cunt, shaft picking up more and more slick with ease in every passing stroke. She’s so wonderfully tight around your length, molding to your cock like it’s the missing piece that makes her feel complete, and whole. There’s an attempt to level herself parallel to the mattress, but you don’t give her any kind of luxury whatsoever, pushing down on the small of her back that deepens the arch, nudging your cockhead down further past the threshold of her calefaction. 

You’re blinking, you’re believing, and you’re pretty much swearing to the heavens above at the thought out realization that Haewon was meant to be yours - like she was made for only you. She’s in the right position, taking you at just the right angle, all sensibilities hanging on a singular thread. Every hit spills out a quick phrase of pants, watch her struggle in keeping her head upright, a slacking neck in response with the consistent slaps of your hips into hers. 

Her slick creates these scattered strings across the skin - not only to the tops of your thighs, but to her ass as well, the sound of her moans bouncing off the walls once they start to rise up a bit in volume. 

“Fucking-” and it’s right at this moment, where she sounds relieved, it all comes down with a firm grind of her teeth, “fuck.” 

“Yeah?” You hum. 

“It’s so-” the blowback of your cock into her cunt becomes a little too much to bear, “it’s so fucking good.” 

You’re holding her in place, right at the hips, the unbelievable form of her ass rocking back and forth with every shift of motion caused by you. The low light of your humidifier works its hours on the nightstand, illuminating the comfy and watered colors onto her skin. She’s drenched in this soft honey shade, laying ruin of the pale sheets on her knees and elbows - face gazing to the window, proffering up these listless praises to fill up your head. 

The thing is: this isn’t the first time that you and her were like this. There’s an absolute certainty that someone living in either the floors above or below your room has heard everything that’s happened within these walls. Surely someone minding their own business walking along the sidewalk outside has seen Haewon’s gorgeous tits pressed up against the glass, her face full of rapture and pleasure - not having any sense of respect or decency to keep it in the room. You remember railing her poor pussy out on the balcony one time; and that was an issue for the landlord to bring up the following day, but neither you nor her really cared. 

What really mattered here, was fucking her brains out. Easy as that. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god-” 

Every word that’s punctuated out of her lips starts to collapse on top of each other, the impact of your thrusts siphoning the last bits of air trapped in her lungs. She isn’t making her condition any better, suffocating herself deep into the pillow, hoping to drown out the wet noises of her cunt slipping your cock in with refined precision. This choking grip is more dangerous than her hands, her hitched breaths are in no comparison to your labored huffs, slowing your movements with one forceful drive in, a massage of her asscheeks here, another drag and thrust back into her tight cunt, and a playful slap to her ass, tainting the slick skin in red. 

“Baby, your fucking cunt,” you hiss. “Jesus christ.” 

A whiny ‘mhm-” is all you manage to get out of Haewon, breaking underneath your weight. Her ass is still facing up, face shoved into the pillow, nicking her neck up for air, fucking her down the curve of her spine. “Oh my goodness. You got it so deep. Hit me hard. Please, and I swear to fuck - ngh-” 

You’re groaning, increasing the sway of your hips into hers, “So fucking tight.” Haewon’s hands manage to find yours, holding the swell of her ass together, moving her body the opposite direction away from you, meeting the impact down the middle which sends your balls lightly tapping the nub of her clit. She knows that you’ve been working a bit too much for your own sake, so she goes on ahead and has her own fun, fucking herself back onto your cock, the recoil alone enough for you to just freeze on your knees and take it. 

“S’that feel good?” she asks innocently.

Spilling out another expletive, you angle your hips up as her ass comes crashing down. 

“You’re so hard for me,” Haewon continues, looking over with her body still pressed against the sheets, the left side of her face smiling at the sight of you trying to hold it together. “This cock fits so well inside- jesus, ah- had to let yourself go for a bit, didn’t you?” 

“If you keep your hips moving with my hands tied, I’m gonna fucking lose it.” 

The plot was already lost from the first dirty thought you had with her. 

Her ass keeps your lower half in check, unknowingly moving through muscle memory while the walls of your room continue to reverberate the stuttering breaths and quick curses slipping out of both of your lips. Your hands hold still in tandem with her fingers and start to claw into your palms, pleasure spiking everywhere in her body, skin hot to the touch as the claps start to increase in tempo - the rate shifting to something more desperate, erratic. 

“My fucking god, shit!” She wails, her hands shooting down to her ass, spreading herself wider while you lock your eyes at the sight of your cock buried into her cunt becomes a whole lot more clearer now, “Right there baby, holy fuck- this cock is just-” Haewon’s demeanor is diminishing by the second, words and sighs tumbling over in loops, but the pitch in her whines hit a familiar key or tone, gradually crescendoing when she gives up in squirming between your fingers. 

“Pound my ass- yes, fuck- this dick is amazing.” Her head swivels up before ducking below into the open cavity of her chest and arms, sucking in her stomach with whatever strength she has left, “Give me more,” she’s panting, head spinning and spinning like a ceiling fan, “Give it to me. I need more-” 

There’s not much left for you to take other than the stray tit that’s captured into your hand when you hunch yourself over her again, lift the upper half of her body upwards so that she’s in line with yours, entrapping that heat away from the cool air, trembling. Your mouth is back to her ear again, eyes half-lidded, fingers moving around your neck while the warmth of her cunt starts to burn across your length - the new lane created where your cock slides into her that creates this sequence of events of her convulsing, shuddering, pulling her hips back with a sole purpose to just ruin her. You’re hearing a slight wheeze out of her, maybe a sob too, the head of your cock’s hit a spot past her threshold where it literally makes her go stupid; mind and body into putty, exactly the way you like it. 

Her fingers continue to hold tight, cunt clenching around your thick shaft when you’ve finally got her past that edge. There’s a bit of a moment of pause when you and her are stacked on top of each other, exhaustion finally breaking through, coaxing her second orgasm as you’re keeping your cock warm inside of her, feeling her hips spaz out of control while you endure in fucking her poor, spent, pretty pussy. Both heels of her feet bend towards the backside of your thighs, pressing her waist into the mattress, sliding yourself out the tightness before teasing her with the half of your shaft. 

“There we go, Haewon. I’ve got you,” you’re telling her. The tone of your voice drowned out by the keening shattering through. “You’re perfect. Cum over this cock, baby. You deserved it.” 

She keeps on sighing when she comes down from her second high, summoning this lazy grin while you’re peppering her face with kisses, an indication for a job well done. But she taps the top of your hand twice, resting at the crease of her hips - and the shimmy of her hips still embedded with your cock tells you only one thing: 

“I wanna make you cum.” 

The insanity this woman has. It does something to you. 

So you waste no time at all. It’s enormously more than just a mess with how fucked up she is. 

When you give her what she needs: flipping on her back was the way to go, yanking her hips back into yours until you see her eyes go wide at the sudden stroke before rolling up behind her head and past her eyelids - everything starts to fall into place with the way the back of her ankles hold your waist, which only leaves you with the sole choice of pounding her so fucking hard that you’d have to hook yourself into the arch of her back where she’ll have no where to go - it’s a position well practiced, your ol’ reliable: firing your cock on all cylinders at a pace so inhuman until she’s able to look you in the eyes and cast a spell for you to finish on her pretty face and leave her there with the damage when it’s all said and done - the assurance that you’ll give her what she wants and have you craving for more - kissing you shamelessly like she’ll be stoned to a rock come the next day, and when you’re feeling the pit of your stomach open more and more, the muscles in your hips and legs moving and tensing in the midst of this sex-filled frenzy, there was only one instinct in your mind where it didn’t take much to pump and dump your load inside her. 

You can feel yourself getting close, head dizzying. “Haewon-” 

“I know, handsome boy,” she praises, pulling you so that your forehead touches hers, “can feel you throbbing down there.” 

She lets out this airy laugh when you wince a bit, hands reined at the small of her back and bringing her waist in, the impact of your cock rebounds her body once the pace starts to decrease. 

“Fill me up, like you always do,” Haewon husks, voice barely a whisper in contrast to your hoarseness, “Put a baby in me.” 

There’s this sort of tension in the air along with your body, driving your cock deep into her, burying your cum into the crevices of her pulsing hotness. Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, telling you to keep cumming inside of her, feeling every hot thread of your release coating her slopped walls. 

You can feel yourself get light-headed - the warmth alone, not to mention how wet and tight her pussy is still, a place where everything feels right - but the lust filled in your head starts to fade, blackened vision returning to normal; and before you know it, you’re coming back to earth. 

Neither of you move a muscle. Instead, you lay there for a bit, taking in the dwindling time of exploring each other’s bodies, holding yourselves together while your lips are conducting one final battle for that last dominance, the stench of sex and sweat still fresh and out to the open air. 

Haewon manages to wrap both of her arms around your neck, kissing the slope of her neck and collarbone, scratching the back of your head, looking up to the ceiling with a lazy smile, one plastered with satisfaction. She taps your shoulder to grab your attention, but all you could come up with was a simple hum, which seemed to be enough for her. 

“Go get me some lemons and water. I owe you a special something and a ride.” 

–

Morning rolls around not long after, and assessing the lay of the land of your living space with one eye open. Everything seems to be in their place, tv remotes, work bag next to the neighboring desk, and the singular cup on the counter next to the fridge. Another thing to note, Haewon already got a jump start to the day. 

You’re sliding across the floor with said singular cup being put into the kitchen sink, but with the other eye open now, you notice something at the corner of the kitchen island: a small box left open. 

“I wonder what she has for me this time,” you say to yourself, examining the box which turned out to be a contraceptive tablet. A note also slips out with a card attached. 

“Take today off. I’ll be coming over later. By the way, I hope you won’t get mad at me for snatching your little gift from Jiwoo. It was too cute for you to have sitting on your nightstand or coffee table, so I took it for myself. 

p.s 

Don’t worry about last night so much. I had everything thought out since our little ‘accident’ the first time. Can’t really say the same thing with what I said, but you can choose to ignore it…or not ;’)

- Haewon

xo <3” 

The attached card flipped over showed the name of the gacha toy gifted to you. A justified reaction of sighing with rolled eyes and the shake of your head was pretty much the start of some days; but hey, at least the breaks are enjoyable. 

“Sleight of hand my ass,” you mutter, thumbing the small slip of paper in your fingers, “she stole that from me.” 

-

a/n: sending my special flowers to @majorblinks (i love you foreverrr <3), @passingnotions (for happily agreeing to poke around wherever in the draft), and @yieldtotemptation (to opening the floodgates with ur bae fic).

thank you for reading and wemo check. :3

[mxnhoo]

dangerous (l. hs)

✎ lee heeseung x reader genre kissing, blowing vape air into one's mouth, experienced boy x unexperienced girl trope, strawberry flavoued air, first kiss, reader has like 0 experience at all, not poofread cos a girlie just wants to write - get the idea off her head - sleep warnings ALMOST smut, vaping, nicotine (duh), hee wants to corrupt her lowk word count 905 cly's note i think this is different from what i usually write but i saw a tiktok with this idea and i couldn't stop thinking about it even during work. HENCE i am staying up to actually write it so i can get it OUF MY HEAD. i hate the thought of smoking/vaping but isn't this so hot omg. plus i've been so inactive i'm so sorry, so here's a proper fic i've written in a while (though it is short)

now playing heaven and back - chase atlantic

You breathed heavily, your eyelids heavy as you continued to stare at Heeseung, who layed below you. The room was dimly lit, the only light source coming from the lamp on your study table. You can't even explain how you got into this situation with Heeseung, your best friend — how you were sitting on Heeseung's lap, him being shirtless and just vaping in front of you. Though you've always known that he was quite literally the opposite of you, you and him remained as close friends regardless, and today you were seeing him in a different way.

Your chest moved rapidly, a new gush of unfamiliar feelings taking over you as you observed him taking another puff from his vape device. He exhaled and blew the air away from you, hitting the back of his head against the headboard afterwards, staring at you.

A strong strawberry scent took over the room, the sweetness making you want to melt into him. Despite the fact that he was the only one that was shirtless and that you were hovering over him, you still felt vulnerable, feeling unsure as to what to do next and anxious that you might fuck things up somehow.

He smirked seeing the state you were in, clearly enjoying the view of you. He was aware about how you were so naive and pure — you haven't kissed, smoked, vaped, or even fucked — and Heeseung just wanted to be there to open the new world to you. He wanted to check off every single thing off from the list, since he knew best how untouched you were. He wouldn't admit it, but he wanted to corrupt you.

He blew air up to his forehead, lifting the bangs away and he threw his head back, making himself more comfortable and showing his featuers off even more, especially his prominent Adam's apple and collarbone.

You couldn't explain it, but everything about him just felt so.. hot at the moment. You've never felt this way for anyone, but the way he was looking at you with such predator gaze, the way his exposed chest was moving up and down, the way he held his vape with his thumb and middle finger, his collarbone and neck, and even more.

"Say, you haven't fucked around nicotone like at all, right?" Heeseung questioned, his voice raspy after taking a huff of his strawberry-flavoured vape.

You shook your head and bit your lip, almost feeling humiliated that you haven't tried anything at all, and that for your entire life, you've stayed away from these things. You looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze, overthinking that he probably thought you were a loser.

He lifted your chin up with his finger, interlocking eyes with yours once again and he smirked, "Wanna take a step into my world?".

Your heart immediately skipped a beat, feeling thrilled at the thought of doing something you've always strayed away from. You stuttered, "O-okay".

He turned his neck downwards to look at you properly before flicking his middle and ring finger, gesturing for you to lean closer to him. You were already sitting on his lap as he layed down, and the closeness and warmth was driving you wild. You'd never experienced something like this before, only simple hand-holding and cheek kisses.

"I won't bite," he reassured, his voice still sounding dark, but you finally started to lean closer to him. Your hands inevitably rested on his bare chest, his chest muscles and abs feeling hard and the way he hitched his breath when you touched him didn't go unnoticed.

You were finally leaning closer to him, your hair falling forward as he nodded in approval, "Want a taste of my vape? Strawberry flavour, you'll like it". You nodded and he chuckled, bringing the vape to his mouth and taking another huff, making you slightly confused. Was he not going to hand the vape over to you?

You wanted to ask until you confirmed that he wasn't. He grabbed the front of your shirt to pull you even closer, his eyelids halfway open as he started to blow the air into your mouth. You immediately inhaled the air, tasting the sweetness of the air and suddenly feeling hot as your heart rate starts to increase.

You only stared at his lips as he blowed the vape air into your mouth, only wishing it was on yours, and he immediately noticed, immediately closing the gap between both of your mouths and smirking as he could feel you immediately snap back to reality from the sudden kiss.

He immediately pulled back, his thoughts feeling hazy as he is met with your half-fucked up face, chuckling that you were already half-spent when you did practically nothing other than share a huff and kiss for a second. "Did I take your first kiss?" he genuinely questioned, observing as you recovered from the kiss and puff.

"You did," you remained quiet before continuing, "I expect you to take my second, third and more".

"Is that a challenge?" he raised his eyebrows, clearly liking your boldness and the idea of kissing you as many times as he wanted.

"Maybe it is? Maybe it isn't?" you shrugged.

His face immediately darkened, the smirk on his face growing deeper, "I never back down a challenge". He put his hand behind your head to push you closer to him, causing your lips to clash once again.

watch out we pop out~ let's fill up some dopamine~ (if u understand ily)