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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months ago

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just like heaven

in which flirty!reader finally confesses her feelings to a pining spencer reid after a night out. she's slightly buzzed. it's complicated.

fluff (some angst) warnings/tags: fem!reader, reader drinks alcohol, dirty jokes, so much flirting and banter, some arguing kinda, but spencer is such a gentleman, everyone gets flustered at least once, they really wanna kiss, happy ending a/n: gif :D I hope u like this! not bandages reader but like same vibes. like an AU for my AU

“Emily!”

You drawl the ee sound long, the same way you reach across the table and wiggle your fingers at her half-empty glass. Thin dark brows dart up beneath that glossy sweep of reddish-black hair.

“Oh, wow. That’s unsettling. What?”

It’s been at least an hour since you had a drink of your own, but enough alcohol is still flowing through your veins so as to render her offensive comment inoffensive. You love Emily. You love the Tequila Sunrise sweating onto the sticky table in front of her which she’s not going to finish.

“I think she wants your drink,” JJ assists, cheek balanced tipsily on a propped up fist.

“Uh…”

Emily’s doe-sweet eyes flash uncertainly behind you.

“I’m basically sober,” you insist, laying your head on your outstretched arm and letting your hair cascade as you bat your lashes, offering her your sweetest smile. “Please, Em?”

It does not go according to plan. She scoffs.

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“... Would that work?”

“Oh my god, just… cool it with the fuck-me eyes,” she laughs. “You can have the drink.”

You sit up, turning just barely over your shoulder to address Spencer.

“See? Emily buys me drinks. Basically.”

She slides the drink toward you, with a subtle roll of her eyes that you choose to interpret as affectionate under the dim canned lighting. As you sit back, content and free drink in hand, her eyes slide to Reid in the seat next to you, brows arching.

“Are you sure you can handle her all on your own?”

“Handle me?” You frown deeply as Emily gathers her purse and slides out of the booth, followed shortly thereafter by JJ. “I don’t need handling.”

“Then why do you have a handler?” JJ teases.

You slump against the worn vinyl, stirring what is mostly orange juice.

“He most definitely is not my handler. He’s my science project.”

“I got it,” Spencer assures your friends, with his trademark flattened smile. You can’t help but watch him with a grin of your own, flipping the straw in the drink and nibbling on the end until it’s stained sparkly pink. Goodbyes are issued, and soon it’s just the two of you. Perhaps it’s a tipsy delusion, but you think he seems to relax slightly when you’re alone. His eyes are easy on you. “You know, you’re not actually decreasing the amount of germ transmission by using the other end of the straw.”

“Mm… pretty sure alcohol kills germs, Doctor.”

At that, you giggle.

Doctor.

Soon you’re covering your face and having a full-fledged laugh attack.

“What?” Spencer asks. From between your fingers you can see that he’s smiling guardedly, brows furrowed in a way that reminds you he’s often worried about being the butt of a joke and not knowing it. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing,” you assure him quickly, gathering yourself. “I just… can’t believe you’re a doctor.”

“Why not? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“You’re so young.”

And handsome.

“I’m not that young. I’m older than you,” he defends. Only by a handful of years, but you know he’s defensive about his age after a lifetime of being told he looks young for—well, everything.

“You’re… 32?”

That’s not right—you know as soon as you say it.

“Thirty three.” He very politely captures a hand—your hand—that had at some point ended up a little too close to his eye. You’re not sure what you planned to do once it got there—you don’t recall moving it at all.

“Sorry.” You take your hand back, choosing to instead fiddle with a button on his coat ponderously. “33 is a good age.”

“Yeah?” Spencer laughs, angling his head as if to regard you from a new angle. It warms you all over. Burns in some places, like a shot of liquor down your throat. Makes you just as dizzy, too. “You have a lot of experience being thirty three?”

“No, I just…” your cheeks heat and you wrestle with a timid smile, averting your gaze and dropping your hand for fear his grin this close up might actually kill you. “I like 33 year old you.”

“So… you didn’t like me when I was thirty two?”

“Stop,” you beg, a self-effacing laugh into the cup of your palm. “I can’t banter. I’m not at peak performance.”

The truth of it hits you, and you sigh, folding your arms on the table and resting your cloudy head. Only then, from this new perspective, do you allow yourself to fully admire Spencer Reid. He is smiling at you, and your heart does skip a beat like you’ve got some school girl crush. These days he wears his hair falling over his face, messy on purpose, and always smells so nice. You wonder when he started caring about that stuff. You want to see what products are in his shower, and learn why he chose that cologne, or how he decides to pair his socks. He probably has some sort of algorithm.

“Spencer,” you begin, the serious quality of your voice diminished by the smush of your cheek against your arm. Still, he tries to respect your tone, zipping the smile and answering with a playfully twitching brow.

“Hm?”

You want to push the hair out of his face. Why is he looking down at you like that? Like he likes you?

“You’re a very good handler.”

His eyes narrow as he considers this, but the glimmer in them could still spark a forest fire. You’re probably grinning like an idiot.

“Oh, I couldn’t handle you. You know this.”

You hum thoughtfully.

“I bet you could. Wanna try?”

Spencer shakes his head, huffing a laugh through his nose. To his credit, your bold-face innuendos don’t always send him into a tailspin these days.

Just sometimes.

“You need a ride home, don’t you?”

You sit back up, stretching your arms out.

“You don’t have to. I could get a cab.”

“I know,” he assures you, still a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. Why. Is. He. Looking. At. You. Like. That?

“Will you let me drive?”

“I would. But, you know, my affairs aren’t in order.”

You roll your eyes as he gets out of the booth and offers you a hand.

“I’m not that drunk.”

Spencer just wiggles his fingers.

“If you can recite the alphabet in reverse you can drive my car.”

You roll your eyes again. Obviously he’s fucking with you, because 1. He’d never let you drive even the slightest bit inebriated, and 2. He knows you can’t say your ABC’s backward when you’re dead sober.

The truth is you’re more buzzed than anything. You could get up and walk fine without any assistance, but he’s offering you his hand, so you take it. After you’re standing, you wonder how many excuses could you possibly dream up to get it back in yours. Should you pretend to fall?

No. Not quite worth your self respect.

“You know…” you muse, reveling in the brief brush of him against your back as he holds open the door for you, “it’s a good thing you didn’t become, like… a medical doctor.”

Now walking side by side on the street, he glances over at you, a poorly veiled smile on his perfect face. Like a trap door brushed over with a few leaves. He wants you to see it.

“Why’s that?”

A breeze ruffles your hair. The brisk cold and the walk seem to be making things crisper already. You shrug, bunching your sleeves in your hands against the increasingly frigid night. The skirt and tights you’d chosen were perfect for a stuffy dive bar. Not so much for an early DC spring.

“Nobody wants a hot doctor.”

He looks down at the sidewalk, hands pocketed, but the curve of his lips doesn’t lessen.

“Hm. You’re drunker than I thought.”

“What? No! I’m—barely!” Again he laughs at you, and again you flush, looking down and counting the cracks in the pavement as you journey slowly under the bath of yellow street lights. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you called me hot.” He sounds almost delighted as he grins sheepishly around the final word.

You snort. You’ve said worse things, more graphic things within the past few hours alone—but you suppose they’ve all been more like dirty jokes than compliments.

“Yeah. You think you aren’t?”

Sandy locks fall side to side as he carefully measures a response. His cologne is warm—sort of smoky. It’s very nice. He doesn’t seem like he’d wear cologne. Have you already thought about his cologne tonight? Once was probably enough.

“I just think sober you wouldn’t have said that.”

“But don’t you prefer it when I’m aggressively flirting with you? I mean, I know I do it sober too, but it's not as good, right?”

A silent stretch begins and shortly ends, and you don’t mind it. Right now, everything is a winding path through the woods. You’re willing to follow any fork off the trail if it means spending more time with him.

“I guess I wasn’t aware that was what you were doing.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you laugh, and it echoes through the canyon of a nearby alley, “I’m not subtle, Reid.”

“I don’t know! You—for all I know that’s just how you are! I mean, what did Emily call them earlier, your—your fuck-me eyes?”

Like he does when he’s flustered, he gets shrill and stuttery. It’s nice to be reminded that he’s still a complete dork on the inside—and the outside, too, as pink stains his cheeks like watercolor. You smirk at him in your periphery, watching him against the darkened city backdrop.

“You noticed those, huh?”

“No,” he denies forcefully, but his brow is pinched like he doesn’t quite believe himself, “I mean, yes, I notice when you look at other people like that, but that’s not what I would call them—I wouldn’t call them anything, I’d just call them your eyes, you know? Not that you always look like you’re soliciting… the implication isn’t there, it’s just—I notice when you flirt with other people! With Emily, and Derek, like, not even half an hour ago. You’re lucky Hotch wasn’t there. You’d probably have given him a heart attack.”

“I’m more concerned with yours, to be honest.”

“My heart is fine,” he laughs. “Worry about my dignity.”

“Hm. I was going for both. Guess I’d better try harder.”

You don’t notice you’ve come to a stop until you’re face to face in front of his vintage Volvo. Spencer is standing closer than usual, hands perpetually stuck in that nice wool coat. He’s all windswept and pretty, smiling crookedly and eyes sparkly with humor. A strand of hair sticks to your lip gloss, and you brush it away, tucking it behind your ear and squinting up at him against the chilly breeze. The flush is either from the nip in the air or your brazen flirting.

“Or, you could go easy on me. I’m frail. Like a… sickly Victorian child.”

Again his brow knits and he smiles like he knows what he’s said is ridiculous. But his tone is gentler now. Softer. Invites you to fall in deeper and see what you might find.

“And ruin all my fun? Toughen up, Reid.”

For a long moment, you don’t get a response—only his eyes, soft and thoughtful on you, before you’re distracted by the sweet bow of his lips. If he notices you’re staring, it doesn’t seem to bother him.

But something evidently does, as when he next speaks, it’s troubled. Curiosity straining against a rope that says maybe it’s better if I don’t ask.

“Do… do you actually flirt with me? When you’re sober, I mean.”

He expects to be ridiculed. In his most vulnerable moments, he’s still bracing for rejection—turning his cheek slightly so he’s ready for the stinging blow. It opens a fissure in your chest. You frown, and speak gently.

“Yeah, Spence. More than anyone else. You really don’t notice?”

Sometimes his face is so expressive, in the pull of his brow and tightening of his eyes and the way he wets his lips. But he probably doesn’t know that. And he can’t seem to meet your eyes, instead choosing to study the leather of your heeled boots. Sounds of late-night traffic, of tires on wet asphalt buffer the pauses between sentences.

“I notice… when you talk to Derek and Emily and JJ and Penelope the exact same way you talk to me. I didn’t think…”

Another gap in conversation, filled with the chatter of some group pouring out of a bar somewhere. You realize he’ll need some gentle prompting to bridge it.

“You didn’t think what?”

When his eyes flash back up to meet yours, you have a feeling like he’s shutting the pipes off.

“It’s—uh—” he clears his throat— “it’s not important, we can—we’ll talk about it a different time. We should—”

“Wait.”

He’d been turning away but snaps right back to look at you as if on command, wearing a brand new face that tells you he’d like to wipe the past minute or so completely away.

“Yeah?”

“Spencer. I wanna know what you were going to say.”

“I told you. It’s nothing.”

“You didn’t tell me. You mumbled evasively and walked away. We were in the middle of something and I want to know what you were going to say. Please?”

“Well, you’re drunk,” he finally sighs, and it’s a bit sharp. Stinging.

“I am not drunk,” you defend, and it feels true, with a bitter cold lashing at your cheek and blood heightened from the walk. “You know I’m not too drunk to have a coherent conversation. Why are you being weird?”

“Because I asked you to drop it! We can’t have this conversation right now, all right? I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Your stomach flips, and your breath comes a little heavier. Spencer is clearly frustrated with you. Maybe being on the wrong end of this mild vexation, and so suddenly, should make you feel guilty, or some kind of bad—but all you feel is a sort of buzz in the tips of your fingers and the thrum of your heart, something deeper than excitement pooling in your veins at having inspired this sort of passion. It means he feels something. Something for you.

“I’m sorry,” he tries halfheartedly, unable or more likely unwilling to stay angry at you for very long, “you didn’t—”

“What conversation?”

It’s jarring how quickly this has spun on its head. The very air you’re breathing seems to have changed. The metropolitan soundscape is a rife undercurrent of tension and louder from all the words unsaid.

Finally he swallows.

“There’s no conversation. I’m—it was a poor choice of wording. I just meant we should get you home.”

Before he can make it to the driver’s side door, you’re calling out.

“You think I don’t like you. And I just flirt with you ‘cause I flirt with everyone.”

Spencer stops, and turns to face you once more, sighing and head dropped to one side like you’re doing something incredibly inconsiderate. He’s never looked at you like that before, but you don’t let it shake you.

“That’s what this is about, right?”

He says your name, but you don’t let him get further than that.

“No, I think there is a conversation here, and saying I’m not sober enough to have it isn’t fair and you should have said something before and I think you should just say it now.”

You’re pushing his buttons with a heavy hand, though your own voice shakes. He’s feeling it too—you’ve never been so short with each other. His voice is raised.

“What am I supposed to say?”

It boils over.

“That you like me!”

It rings.

Then it’s silent.

His face is mostly blank. A little sorrowful around his eyes.

It’s cold, jumping into the deep end like this.

“We can’t talk about this right now,” he finally says, glancing to the side as if to suggest a situation the size of the whole city.

“Spencer, I—”

“It’s impossible to have a meaningful discussion until your judgement isn’t impaired, otherwise it’s—”

“I am telling you that I flirt with you because I really like you.”

“I—”

It appears you’ve truly thrown him for a loop. For a moment his jaw works at nothing, a soliloquy of words go unspoken, and then he’s stuttering and fumbling for the right thing to say, looking everywhere but at you.

“I can’t—that’s—regardless of whether or not it’s even true—”

“It is true.”

“Could you—stop?” He pleads. “You can’t tell me that. I mean, the power imbalance when you’ve been drinking and I haven’t—it’s—I mean, it's coercive. Because I brought it up, I asked an inappropriate question—or at least started to ask it, and you—not that it was your fault, I’m the responsible party in this instance, but if tomorrow you realize you never wanted to tell me—so I have to take that with a grain of salt. I’m just—I have to pretend I didn’t hear that, alright? And you can’t say it again.”

He’s ridiculous. You shift your weight onto one foot casually.

“That’s not very nice. I just confessed to having a huge crush on you and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”

There is an undeniable sort of pleasure in the bright of his eyes, and you phrased it that way on purpose, just to see him preen and glow—also to see if you could make him trip all over himself some more. Right now, despite the liminal space your relationship may or may not be occupying, you’re teasing him like you always do. Like he’s a friend, because he is. Before anything else.

He tries to glower, barely.

“Were you listening to me at all?”

“It was hard with all the stammering. I thought you might pass out.”

“I might,” he grumbles, and the admission pleases you greatly. Your lips tug as you admire him for a moment—watch his defenses go down and his features ease into something more inviting.

God, maybe you really had been too hard on him. Maybe he really didn’t expect that you would like him back.

You’re struck with the need to reassure.

A dampened clack emits from your shoe where the heel hits the ground as you step down off the curb.

“You know… I do like you. A lot. I mean it. And I’m glad I told you, because... you like me too, right?”

He raises his brows, like don’t do anything stupid, as you approach unhurriedly. It’s good to see that you haven’t broken his spirit completely.

Less than a foot away, you stop. Close enough to be in his space. Too far for him to have the grounds to step back.

His eyes are careful on you, analytical as always, constantly predicting an infinite number of outcomes to any given scenario. That’s how he keeps his footing in the world. But he’s never very good at predicting you. And it helps that his razor sharp intellect is dulled, some, with affection. Attraction.

It shows in his eyes. He’ll let you push boundaries he knows he shouldn’t. More so if you keep speaking to him this softly. Almost whispering.

“Tell me you like me, Spencer.”

Because he hasn’t yet. All the heavy lifting has been done for him, and that just won’t do.

First, he opens his mouth, and you watch the internal debate, a million things he could say, spinning round in his eyes like pinwheels. Rules, and buts, and caveats.

In the end, he just clears his throat. Speaks in the same secretive tone. Low enough to be intimate.

“I like you.”

Such a simple thing has never made you feel so airy before in your life. You steal another glance at his lips.

“So it’s really not that complicated. We could probably just kiss.”

He tinges pink.

“We definitely can’t.”

“You also said we couldn’t talk about it, and yet…”

“Talking is different. As far as I’m concerned, nothing you say to me tonight is binding. Whatever just transpired happened completely off the record. We can… talk about it tomorrow, but right now, you and I are friends.”

You shrug.

“Friends can kiss.”

“No, they can’t,” he says definitively, though not without a healthy dose of sardonic self-awareness and a dark smile. His hand finds your waist, and it’s glancing, if anything a light push, but you’re delighted nonetheless. Almost as pleased as if he really had kissed you. “It’s cold. I’m ready to leave.”

You’ve pushed him enough for one night. And it is cold. So you shuffle around the car with quick steps to the passenger side door, hooking your fingers under the biting metal handle and waiting for him to unlock the vehicle.

You’re shivering as your thighs press against leather upholstery, only the thinnest layer of synthetic material protecting your legs. Spencer is already starting the car, but the engine is too cold to bother turning the heat on yet.

“I think it’s colder in here than outside. Look at my hand.” You hold it up for him, and it is discolored, waxy, as he mindlessly takes it between his own much warmer ones. “I thought alcohol was supposed to keep you warm. Didn’t that chef on the Titanic survive hours in the ocean because he was hammered?”

“That’s a myth. Not the chef—he did survive, but it was a complete anomaly. Alcohol causes vasodilation in the dermis layer of the skin, so you feel warmer, but it draws blood flow away from your internal organs and significantly raises your likelihood of developing hypothermia.”

Does he notice how he’s holding your hand? Carefully pressing his thumbs to the center of your palm and pushing up through your love and life lines, cupping the fingers, before sandwiching them between his own and generating friction the way a child furiously rolls a play-doh worm?

“I guess I’m really not that drunk, then.”

He’s not expecting it, and maybe he doesn’t know what to make of your exceptionally gentle tone at first. It was a mistake, you think, as he relinquishes his hold on your hand, and you curl it to retain the memory of his warmth. But then he tucks hair behind your ear, like he’s done once or twice before, and smiles in a way you don’t quite understand.

“I know.”

You won’t push him. You won’t ask for anything else, and you won’t demand an explanation. Spencer is special. It can all wait, because you have something good with him already. Something important. Something like holding hands.

It comes as a surprise when he leans across the console, and you lean in a trance to meet him, and another surprise when he gently redirects, pressing his lips to your cheek, close enough to match the corners of your mouths and nothing more.

You’d let him do it a hundred times over, but he draws back after a fraction of a lingering second, and finds your hand to stroke the back of it, forgotten in your lap.

“You said no kissing,” you murmur, as if in a dream. If you had the wherewithal to be embarrassed maybe you wouldn’t be ogling so much.

“Compromise.”

If anything, you should be the cheek-kisser. But there will be time to feel slighted about that later. Time to amend. For now, you look ahead robotically.

“Is there a rule against friendly hand-holding?”

“Probably,” he says.

But he lets you hold his hand in your lap the whole drive to your apartment, anyway.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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dollgxtz · 27 days ago

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Trick or...Temptation?

Word Count: 9.8k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, pet play if u squint, creampie, biting, rough sex, pet names like kitten, sweetie, penetration, cunninlingus, i wanted to make this a vampire!sylus fic so bad but I got nervous lmao but theres slight mentions of him :3

AN: Happy Halloween everyone! I sincerely hope u all enjoy this, it was super fun to write! I rushed to finish this so I could post it exactly on Halloween. Enjoy!

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?” You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”

“Come oooon! It’ll be so much fun!” Tara exclaimed, trailing behind you as you both walked out of work. The day had ended early thanks to the holiday, and while most people had exciting Halloween plans, you had opted for a quiet night in with a scary movie marathon. Of course, your enthusiastic coworker had other ideas for you.

“Tara, as much as I’d love to, it’s really just not my scene, you know? Maybe next year?” you tried, hoping to dodge her invitation once again.

“You always say that!” Tara pouted, her voice pleading as she quickened her pace to walk beside you. “Please? It’ll be fun! Just a few hours, a couple of drinks, a little dancing, and we can leave! Deal? It’s a festival, for crying out loud! I don’t want to go by myself.”

You glanced at Tara, her eyes wide and shimmering with that classic puppy-dog look she always gave you when she really wanted something. You couldn’t deny she had a point. It wasn’t like you had big plans for the night—just a quiet evening with a blanket and some popcorn. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to step out for a few hours, right?

“Fine,” you finally sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling a little. “But only for a few hours, and then I’m out.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, bestie!” Tara squealed, practically bouncing in excitement. “I’ll see you later tonight! You’re going to love it!”

And that was how you found yourself here, standing in front of your mirror, dressed in a skimpy cat costume. You adjusted the white miniskirt and tugged at the black corset top, making sure everything was in place. The cat ears perched on your head and the swishing tail added a playful touch, though the whole ensemble was definitely more revealing than you were used to. You sighed, resigned to your fate.

You didn’t have to stay long, you reminded yourself. Just a few hours, and then you could slip back into your original plan of movie night...hopefully without running into too much trouble.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, typing a quick message to Tara: On my way. Hitting send, you opened your ride-share app. If you were going to be drinking tonight, it was best not to drive yourself. The car arrived faster than you expected, and you slipped into the back seat, watching the city lights blur by as you mentally prepared yourself for the night ahead.

Arriving at the event, you stepped out of the car and immediately took in the scene. The park had been transformed into a Halloween wonderland, bustling with life. String lights cast a soft, warm glow over the area, illuminating clusters of people already well into the party spirit. Bodies bumped together in rhythm with the pulsing beat of the music, and a mix of excited chatter and laughter filled the cool night air. The grass beneath your shoes was damp with evening dew, and the faint scent of autumn leaves and spiced drinks wafted through the crowd.

Everywhere you looked, Halloween-themed decorations adorned the space—carved pumpkins lined the walkways, some with goofy faces, others with intricate, eerie designs. Fake cobwebs clung to the trees, and glowing skeletons and witch hats dangled from makeshift booths. There was an excitement in the air, palpable and contagious, though you still felt a little out of place.

Your eyes wandered toward the bar at the far end of the festival grounds. It was busy, but it was exactly what you needed. Liquid courage, you thought. If you were going to make it through the night, a drink or two would certainly help take the edge off. You made a beeline for it, weaving through the crowd, your thoughts focused on what your first drink would be—something strong, something to help you loosen up.

Just as you were about to make your escape, a high-pitched squeal cut through the music, and you barely had time to turn before you saw her—Tara, dressed in her fairy costume, wings glittering under the lights, barreling toward you at full speed.

“You’re here!!” she cried, wrapping you in an excited hug before you could even react. “Oh my God, I thought for sure you’d bailed or fallen asleep or something!”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. “Yeah, well, you convinced me. I wouldn’t leave you hanging,” you said, shaking your head as you hugged her back, her energy instantly infectious.

Tara pulled back, her wide smile practically glowing. “Thank you soooo much for coming! I’m so excited, I can’t even—” she paused, looking you up and down, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You look amazing! That cat costume is sexy! Definitely a step up from your usual movie marathon at home, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll admit, this is...different,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your miniskirt. The cool night air reminded you just how short it was. But Tara was right—you didn’t do this often. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to try something new tonight.

Tara, completely unfazed by your slight discomfort, grabbed your hand with excitement. “Alright, enough chatting. Let’s get some drinks! We’re here to have fun, and the night is young!”

She pulled you toward the bar, and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. It wasn’t your scene, but with Tara by your side, maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. The thumping bass of the music, the swirl of costumes, and the faint buzz of excitement in the air already had you feeling a little lighter.

The two of you made your way through the crowd and finally approached the bar. It was busy, but not unbearable, with people lined up in various costumes, chatting, laughing, and ordering drinks. As you and Tara waited for your turn, she started rambling about all the new Halloween movies you two could watch later, once the festival was over.

“There’s this one that’s supposed to be so creepy! It’s about these haunted scarecrows that come to life—oh, and don’t even get me started on the one with the possessed doll…” Tara continued, her excitement infectious as she rattled off titles.

You nodded along, half-listening, your mind slightly wandering as you scanned the area. The lights flickered over the bar, casting an eerie glow on the bottles lined up behind the counter. The decorations were elaborate—fake cobwebs stretched across the bar shelves, and jack-o’-lanterns glowed faintly from the corners of the space. You were just starting to get lost in your thoughts when the bartender, a stunning blonde woman dressed in a witch costume, turned to you with a smile.

“Hi, can I get a—” you began, but you were abruptly cut off by a smooth, male voice behind you.

“I’ll get a Gin Fizz and two margaritas for the ladies,” the voice said with casual authority.

You froze for a moment, the sound of that voice sending a jolt down your spine. You spun around, and there he was.

Sylus.

Tall, effortlessly imposing, with his signature white hair catching the dim light and his crimson red eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, knowing glint. He wore a dark, sleek outfit that hugged his frame perfectly, making him stand out even in the crowd of costumes. His smile was just as confident and wicked as you remembered.

“Long time no see, kitten” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with amusement as he looked down at you, eyeing your costume.

Your stomach did a flip. Of all the people you could have run into tonight, Sylus was the last person you expected—or wanted—to see. You hadn’t seen him in a while, and now here he was, appearing out of nowhere like he always did, and immediately making your pulse quicken.

“Sy-I mean Skye?” you stammered, catching yourself as Tara turned around too, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of this tall, striking man. Her bright eyes went wide, and she started clapping her hands excitedly.

“Skye! I haven’t seen you since our team-building outing! How’s the fruit business?” she asked, her voice bright and friendly as she came to stand beside you, completely unaware of your racing heart.

Sylus—no, Skye—didn’t miss a beat. He flashed Tara an easy smile, looking as unruffled as ever. “Ah, the fruit business is...ripe as always,” he replied with a wink towards you, clearly enjoying the nervous look on your face.

The bartender cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. “There’s a line, folks,” she said with a polite but firm smile, nodding toward the queue of people waiting for their drinks. “Take your drinks and let the others through.”

You blinked, suddenly remembering where you were. Nervously, you reached for your margarita and handed Sylus his gin fizz, all while trying to calm the wild beating of your heart. The casual smirk on his face did nothing to help your nerves. With drinks in hand, you and Tara moved toward a quieter, empty spot at the edge of the festival, away from the bar's chaos. Sylus, of course, followed.

As soon as you settled into your spot, Sylus wasted no time, his teasing smirk never fading. His eyes roamed over your outfit—your skimpy black cat costume with the mini skirt, corset top, and cat ears—and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze.

With a predatory gleam in his eye, he sauntered over, his smirk growing more wicked by the second. “You say you don’t want me calling you kitten, and yet here you are,” he drawled, letting his gaze sweep over your costume. “Dressed as one. How cute.”

You glared at him, already feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Zip it...” you warned, rolling your eyes at the sheer irony of it all. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but let a small giggle slip past your lips. It was absurd, really. Of course, of all the costumes you could've picked it just had to be this one.

He just chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He took a sip of his own drink, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are you even doing here?” you finally asked, your voice a little sharper than intended. “I thought you didn’t like crowded places.”

Sylus gave a soft laugh, leaning against a nearby post with his usual air of nonchalance. “I’m not a fan of crowds,” he admitted, his gaze flickering back to the sea of people dancing and drinking. “But I happen to own this little part of Linkon.” He said it so casually, as if it were no big deal. “Figured I’d make an appearance. Keep an eye on things.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. Of course he did. Sylus always had a way of showing up in places you least expected him—places you thought you could escape from him, if only for a night. But owning part of the city? That was new.

But not surprising.

Tara, who had already downed her margarita, was clearly impressed. “Woah, Skye,” she slurred slightly, her eyes wide with admiration. “The fruit vendor business must pay soooo well.”

You shot her a look, silently willing her to stop talking, but she was already giggling, oblivious to the tension between you and Sylus. He, on the other hand, seemed more amused than anything.

“What can I say?” Sylus replied smoothly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fresh fruit is forever in demand.” His eyes met yours again, clearly enjoying the joke that only the two of you understood.

You groaned inwardly, sipping more of your margarita as you glared at Sylus. He was playing along, effortlessly weaving his cover story about being a simple fruit vendor. And yet, there he was, owning half the city and standing in front of you, looking like he could control the whole damn world if he wanted to.

Sylus raised his glass in a mock toast, his crimson eyes never leaving yours. “Happy Halloween?” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered under your breath, knowing full well that this night was gonna be a loooong one.

Tara, always quick to notice things, suddenly glanced at Sylus with a playful frown. “Wait a second, Skye,” she said, squinting at him, “you’re not even in costume!” She giggled, rummaging through her bag, clearly not letting him off the hook. “This is a Halloween festival, after all. You’ve gotta dress the part!”

You internally groaned, already bracing yourself for whatever Tara had up her sleeve. But of course, she wasn’t about to disappoint. With a triumphant grin, she pulled out a small plastic case from her bag and popped it open, revealing a pair of cheap, plastic vampire fangs.

“Here!” she said, holding them out to Sylus with a twinkle in her eye. “These will work perfectly. You’ve already got the whole pale, mysterious look going on. You’d make such a great vampire!”

You couldn’t help but glance at Sylus, your heart skipping a beat as you realized just how well Tara’s suggestion fit. His striking white hair, his sharp features, and those intense, crimson eyes...he really would make a disturbingly convincing vampire.

To your surprise—and mild horror—Sylus flashed a wicked grin, clearly entertained by the whole situation. “A vampire, huh?” he mused, taking the plastic fangs from Tara’s hand and inspecting them. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with that all-too-familiar mischief. “I guess I can pull that off.”

He slid the fake teeth into his mouth with an exaggerated flourish, and somehow, even with cheap plastic fangs, he managed to look both ridiculous and annoyingly attractive at the same time. He bared his new "fangs" with a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“See?” Tara beamed, clapping her hands together. “I told you! You look like you’ve been doing this your whole life!”

Sylus smirked, turning his attention back to you, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone he always used to get under your skin. “I do make a rather convincing vampire, don’t I?” he said, flashing his fake fangs at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “What do you think, kitten?”

You glared at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. “You’re lucky I don’t have garlic,” you muttered, sipping your drink to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

Tara, oblivious to the tension between the two of you, just giggled again and raised her empty glass. “I need another drink after that! I'm gonna go get another round,” she said, already walking back toward the bar.

As soon as Tara was out of earshot, Sylus’s demeanor shifted slightly. The playful grin remained, but now, with just the two of you, there was something darker, more intense in his expression. He stepped closer, his presence suddenly much more imposing.

“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he closed the distance between you, “I think your friend is onto something” His eyes gleamed, locking onto yours with that wicked, teasing look you knew all too well.

Before you could react, he leaned in—so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck. Your heart jumped in your chest, the sudden proximity sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin, teasing, as he lingered just inches from your neck, not touching you but close enough that goosebumps instantly rose along your arms.

You froze, every nerve in your body suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The scent of him, a mix of something dark and enticing, filled your senses. Your pulse quickened, and you couldn’t hide the goosebumps now crawling up your skin.

He let his breath linger for just a moment longer before his lips curled into a smirk near your ear. “You might want to watch out, kitten,” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing growl. “I could get used to this.”

Your breath hitched, and you struggled to keep your composure, your pulse racing wildly. “Sylus…” you warned, trying to sound stern, but your voice betrayed the effect he was having on you.

He chuckled softly, clearly reveling in your reaction. Straightening up slightly, he didn’t step back but remained close, his crimson eyes still locked on yours. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his voice smooth and playful. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You glared at him, trying to mask the fact that your heart was still hammering in your chest. “Don’t start,” you muttered, forcing a glare, even though you could still feel the heat from where his breath had brushed your skin.

Sylus took a slow sip of his drink, his smirk never fading. “I wasn’t starting anything,” he said innocently, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes said otherwise. “Just playing the part.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks and the pounding of your heart betrayed you. “Just don’t bite anyone,” you shot back, trying to reclaim some control over the situation.

“No promises,” Sylus said, his voice soft but dangerous, his gaze lingering on you as if you were his prey.

Tara came bouncing back over to you with two martinis, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hey! Want to dance?” she asked, already swaying to the music.

You barely hesitated, desperate for a way to escape the overwhelming tension with Sylus. “Yeah, sure,” you said, quickly taking the martini from Tara and downing a good portion of it. You could feel Sylus’s eyes on you, and when you glanced his way, he simply gave a slight nod, clearly content with watching you both from afar.

Your skin prickled under his gaze as you and Tara made your way toward the middle of the festival. The music was thumping, bodies swaying together under the dim, flickering lights. You still felt uneasy knowing Sylus was watching you, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. But as the alcohol worked its way through your system, slowly loosening your limbs and dulling the tension, you started to let yourself get lost in the music. Tara twirled around you, laughing and dancing without a care in the world, and soon enough, you found yourself smiling and moving along with her.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the alcohol was settling into your bones, making everything seem a little hazier, a little easier. The bass pulsed through the air, the crowd a blur of costumes and laughter, and for a moment, you forgot about Sylus’s watchful eyes.

But eventually, a different need called your attention—you really had to pee.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you shouted over the music to Tara.

“I’ll come with you!” she offered, but you shook your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. Stay here! I’ll be right back.”

Tara shrugged, happily returning to her dancing as you weaved your way through the crowd, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin as you stepped away from the dance floor. Your steps were a little unsteady, and as you made your way to the row of porta potties set up near the back of the festival grounds, you blinked to clear your vision. Everything seemed a little...fuzzy. The alcohol was really kicking in now, and you swore the ground felt a little wobbly under your feet.

You managed to find an open porta potty, and after handling your business, you stepped out, blinking again as the world swayed in front of you. Shit...am I really this drunk? you thought, steadying yourself against the side of the porta potty for a moment. Your vision was blurry, and everything seemed a little too bright, a little too loud.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. For a second, you thought it was Sylus. The height was wrong, but the dark outline and the way the man moved had you second-guessing yourself. Relief almost flooded through you, but then the figure got closer, and the sour, stale scent hit your nose.

No, this definitely wasn’t Sylus.

The man was much shorter, stockier, and as he came closer, you could smell him—like sweat and cheap cologne, mixed with the stench of too much booze. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as he stepped into your personal space, his breath hot and sour as he leaned in a little too close.

“Hey there,” he slurred, his voice dripping with false charm. “You look a little lost. Why don’t you come to my car? It’s parked just over there.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, and you instinctively stepped back, trying to put some distance between you and him. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, your voice shaky as you tried to move past him. But he stepped into your path, blocking you with an alarming quickness for someone who seemed so drunk.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said, his tone darkening, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. “It’ll be fun. I can show you a good time, little kitty.”

Panic surged through you as you tried to yank your arm away, stumbling slightly as your vision blurred again. The alcohol was making it hard to focus, and you cursed under your breath. “No, leave me alone!” you said, your voice firmer now as you tried to push past him.

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his face twisting with frustration. “I said come with me,” he growled, pulling harder.

Your pulse skyrocketed, fear taking over as you struggled to break free. Just as you were about to shout for help, a shadow loomed behind the man.

“I’d suggest you listen to her.”

That voice—it was low, cold, and unmistakable. You looked up, relief crashing through you like a wave as Sylus appeared, his tall figure practically radiating menace. The shorter man immediately let go of your arm, turning to face Sylus with a sneer, clearly trying to act tough despite the difference in size.

“And who the hell are you? I'm her boyfriend, fuck off” the man spat, puffing out his chest.

Sylus’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice low and deadly. Without another word, a cold red mist began to swirl around him, tendrils of it seeping through the air like something out of a nightmare. The temperature around you seemed to drop, and you could feel the mist growing denser, colder.

The drunken man didn’t seem to realize what was happening until it was too late. The red mist wrapped around him like a snake, tightening and choking him. His eyes bulged as he gasped for air, his grip on your arm loosening as fear took over.

Sylus didn’t stop. His eyes were locked on the man, his fury palpable as the mist constricted tighter.

The man’s face turned a sickly shade of purple as he clawed at the mist around his throat, desperately trying to break free. He gagged, his drunken bravado crumbling into pure terror.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you stepped forward, grabbing Sylus’s arm. “Stop. You’re going to kill him...there's people all around us.”

Sylus’s eyes flicked to you, still cold and angry, but there was a flicker of hesitation. You could see the struggle behind his gaze, his fury barely held in check. But slowly, the mist around the man’s throat began to dissipate. Sylus released him, letting the man fall to the ground, coughing and wheezing as he scrambled to his feet.

The man didn’t waste a second. He stumbled away, terrified, mumbling incoherently as he disappeared into the crowd, wanting nothing more than to escape the nightmare he had just experienced.

Sylus’s shoulders tensed, his body still vibrating with anger as he watched the man retreat. His breathing was heavy, and though the mist had vanished, the chill in the air remained.

You stood there, your heart still racing, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified by what had just happened. As Sylus turned toward you, you could see him trying to calm himself.

“My kitten,” he said softly, though his voice was still rough with residual anger, “is always getting herself into sticky situations.” He took a step closer, his usual smirk returning, though there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Good thing I’m a vampire tonight. I can sniff out when she gets herself in trouble.”

You managed a shaky laugh, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. “You didn’t have to almost kill him,” you muttered, trying to regain your composure.

Sylus shrugged, his eyes softening as he looked you over, checking to make sure you were truly alright. “He deserved worse,” he said, though his tone was lighter now. “But I’ll behave. For you.”

Sylus suddenly glanced down at his watch, his expression hardening almost instantly. Without warning, he turned to you and, in a firm voice, announced, “We’re leaving.”

You blinked, confused. “What? Leaving? Why? What about Tara?”

But Sylus didn’t bother explaining. He grabbed your arm with a sense of urgency, pulling you away from the festival and weaving through the crowd. You tried to dig your feet into the ground, but with the alcohol still lingering in your system, your balance wasn’t on your side. “Hey! What about Tara?” you protested, struggling to keep up with his swift pace.

Sylus barely glanced back at you as he strode toward a sleek, black car parked near the edge of the festival grounds. “Luke and Kieran are taking her home,” he replied coolly, unlocking the car with a flick of his wrist. “Behave, and get inside.”

You planted your feet, halting in your tracks as you shook your head, confused and frustrated. “Wait—what? Why are we leaving so suddenly? I don’t—”

But Sylus wasn’t in the mood for a debate. He turned, his eyes flashing with irritation, and in one swift motion, he pushed the car door open, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he guided you into the passenger seat. You tried to resist, squirming under his firm hold.

“Get in the car,” he sighed, clearly not in the mood to argue. “Please.”

After a bit more struggle—your alcohol-fueled frustration not making it easy—you finally huffed in defeat and let him guide you into the seat. He shut the door behind you with a sharp click before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.

You sulked in silence as he started the engine, the low hum of the car doing little to soothe your frustration. You didn’t understand why Sylus was being so forceful all of a sudden, and the abruptness of it all only added to the confusion swirling in your mind. The alcohol still clouded your thoughts, making it hard to argue, and as the car began to move, the steady rhythm of the ride lulled you into an unexpected calm.

Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite the tension of the night, you found yourself slowly drifting off. The next thing you knew, darkness had settled around you, and your body slipped into a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep.

When you woke, you felt yourself being carried, the world around you shifting. The first thing you noticed was Sylus’s steady, strong grip beneath you, his arms holding you close as he walked. You blinked groggily, your vision clearing slightly as you realized you were no longer at the festival—or in the car.

Sylus was carrying you through the dim, industrial halls of his home in the N109 Zone. The walls were dark and sleek, bathed in a soft glow from the faint lights overhead. The cold, sterile air of the house prickled against your skin, sobering you up a little more as you processed what was happening.

A wave of frustration hit you. With your head clearer now, you reached up and pinched his cheek, your fingers digging in as you muttered, “Asshole.”

Sylus let out a soft grunt of surprise, glancing down at you with a bemused look. “Still feisty, I see,” he murmured, though there was an amused glint in his eyes. “How unfortunate that the nap didn't dull your attitude".

You scowled, still annoyed by the way he had just whisked you away without any explanation. “You dragged me away from the festival without even telling me why,” you muttered, your voice sharper now that you were more awake. “What the hell, Sylus?”

He just chuckled softly, ignoring the sting from your pinch. “You were in no state to argue,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact as he carried you further into his home. “And I had enough of babysitting you the whole night.”

“Well I didn't ask you to watch me,” you grumbled, though your body still felt heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol. You squirmed a little in his arms, trying to free yourself, but his grip on you was steady and unyielding.

“You can complain all you want, kitten,” he said with a smirk, “but you needed to get out of there. Trust me.”

You huffed, more irritated now. “Don’t call me kitten,” you muttered, glaring up at him through half-lidded eyes. It was bad enough that he always teased you with that nickname—tonight, it felt like he was deliberately rubbing salt in the wound.

Sylus glanced down at you, his smirk deepening into a mischievous grin. “Why not?” he asked, his voice soft, teasing, as his eyes traveled over your outfit. “You’re dressed like one tonight. Seems even more fitting than usual, doesn’t it?”

Sylus carried you effortlessly through the halls of his home until he reached his room. He set you down gently on the large, plush bed, its softness immediately pulling you in. The sheets felt cool against your skin as you sank into them, your body still heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol.

You watched as Sylus moved across the room, grabbing a glass of water from a nearby table and bringing it back to the nightstand beside the bed. “Drink this,” he said, his voice less teasing now, more gentle. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Go to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes but obediently took a sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. As you placed the glass back down, you realized that the fog in your mind was starting to lift. You weren’t as drunk as you had been earlier—your head was clearer now, though you were still feeling bold enough to be a little reckless.

Sylus walked across the room, settling into a large leather chair near the window, watching you from a distance. He leaned back, his crimson eyes glinting in the low light, clearly still on edge after the events of the night.

But something stirred inside you—a spark of mischievousness born from the alcohol still lingering in your system. You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking of how he had pulled you away from the festival without warning, how he always teased you, and how you could never seem to one-up him. Maybe now was your chance.

You slid out of bed and onto all fours, quietly crawling toward him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and warning.

You didn’t answer. Instead, when you reached him, you rested your face against his legs and set your head down in his lap, rubbing your cheek against him in a way that could only be described as cat-like.

For a moment, Sylus just stared at you, processing what you were doing. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips, and he leaned forward slightly, looking down at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Not only are you dressed like a cat,” he said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm, “but now you’ve decided to act like one too.”

You smirked to yourself, feeling triumphant in your little act of rebellion. “I’m just embracing the part,” you murmured, your voice teasing as you nuzzled your face slightly against his legs.

Sylus’s hand twitched slightly, and for a moment, you wondered if he would push you away—but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, his gaze sharp and curious, though there was a flicker of something darker beneath his playful expression.

“Careful, kitten,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that always made your pulse race. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, the mischief still swirling inside you. “And what if I am?” you challenged, pushing yourself just a little further, enjoying the way his body tensed beneath you.

Sylus’s crimson eyes darkened, his smirk fading slightly as he studied you more closely. There was something electric in the air between you now, the tension palpable as he weighed his next move.

“You’re bold tonight,” he said, his voice softer now, more serious. “Bolder than usual.”

You just smiled up at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction at having thrown him off balance, even if only slightly. “Maybe it’s the cat costume,” you teased, still resting your head in his lap. “Or maybe it’s just you.”

Sylus’s eyes darkened, his smirk growing more predatory as he leaned down slightly, closing the distance between your faces. He looked at you with a gleam of amusement and hunger, his tone shifting to something deeper, more commanding.

“Since you’re feeling so bold,” he said softly, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge, “you should have no problem mewling a little for me then, hm?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the sudden shift in tone making your pulse race even faster. The way he looked at you, his gaze intense and unwavering, made your skin prickle with nervous anticipation. He wasn’t playing around anymore. The teasing had escalated, and now he was testing you, pushing you to see how far you would go.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of defiance and something else stirring within you. The tension between you two had never been more palpable, and in that moment, it felt like a line was being drawn—a challenge you weren’t sure if you wanted to accept or retreat from.

Sylus leaned back slightly, his expression amused as he watched the gears turn in your head. “What’s the matter?” he teased, though his voice was softer now, coaxing. “Cat got your tongue?"

You smirked at Sylus’s challenge, the mischievous spark in your eyes growing even brighter. Fine, you thought, two can play at that game.

Without hesitation, you leaned into the role he was teasing you about, doubling down on your boldness. You let out a soft, playful meow, pawing at his legs like a mischievous cat. The alcohol still buzzing in your system only made it easier to fully embrace the act, and you were determined to throw him off balance—if only for a moment.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised at how far you were willing to take the game, but his smirk never wavered. If anything, it deepened as he watched you with amusement, his crimson eyes twinkling with intrigue. “Oh, so we’re really doing this?” he murmured, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You meowed again, more dramatically this time, your hands pawing at his pants as you looked up at him with exaggerated innocence. You could see the amusement in his eyes, and you knew you had him—at least for now. Deciding to push the limits, you got even closer, deciding to rub your face against his half hard cock hidden beneath his jeans.

Seems he was more affected than he was letting on.

With a mocking grin, Sylus reached down and ran his hand gently over the top of your head, as if petting you like a real cat. “You must be very drunk,” he teased, his voice light and playful. “Acting like a kitten and now letting me pet you? I need a camera.”

But before he could pull his hand away, you leaned forward and bit him—lightly, but enough to make a point. He barely reacted before withdrawing his hand, his eyes widening with mock surprise as he looked down at you.

“Oh?,” Sylus said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “You even bite too? What an unpredictable little kitten I have”

You grinned up at him, feeling victorious in your rebellion, the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline making you bolder than ever. “I warned you not to underestimate me,” you teased, your eyes still locked on his, enjoying the game far more than you expected.

Sylus’s playful smirk returned, though there was an undeniable glint of something darker in his gaze. “I think you've forgotten something though” he said softly, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping lower.

"I bite back.”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your grin in place, unwilling to back down now. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the playful teasing quickly evolving into something far more intense. You had started this game, and now you were both caught in it.

But for now, you weren’t ready to back down. “I think I can handle it,” you replied, your voice light but laced with challenge.

Sylus’s eyes flickered with amusement, but the edge in his gaze remained. “Is that so?”

Before you could react, Sylus stood up abruptly, his towering presence looming over you. Caught off guard, you stumbled backward, landing on your elbows. Instinctively, you began to scoot back, trying to put some distance between you and his intense gaze, but there was nowhere to go. You felt the cool sheets of the bed press against your back as you found yourself cornered, unable to escape the situation you'd playfully started.

Sylus took a slow step forward, his eyes locked on yours, predatory and amused. He enjoyed how you had pushed him, but now it seemed like the tables had turned. You bit your lip, feeling your heart race in a way that wasn’t just from fear or excitement—it was something more.

“Sylus,” you said, your voice half-teasing, half-nervous, “you’re not really going to—” But the words caught in your throat as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, cutting off any space for escape.

You were about to plead again, but your voice faltered as he lowered himself closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Why so nervous now?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous, echoing your earlier defiance.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the intensity in his gaze rendered you speechless. Instead, all you could do was look at him, your breath catching in your throat as the air around you thickened with anticipation.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the predatory edge was still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded again, almost breathless. “Y-yes,” you whispered.

Without waiting another moment, Sylus’s lips were on yours. The kiss was slow at first, his hand coming up to cradle your face gently, despite the tension hanging in the air. You melted into the kiss, your mind swimming as his lips moved against yours with a mixture of tenderness and hunger. It was as if he was savoring every second.

But then his lips trailed down, leaving a hot path along your jawline, and before you knew it, he was at your neck. You shuddered, the sensation making your pulse quicken, and just as the heat spread through you, you felt a sharp sting—his teeth sinking into your skin.

You gasped, a groan escaping your lips as the bite sent a jolt of pain through your body. Your hands instinctively gripped the sheets beneath you as your body tensed, your head spinning with the mixture of pain and adrenaline. Sylus’s teeth sank in deeper for just a moment, the pressure sharp but somehow electrifying.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. His crimson eyes gleamed as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?”

You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and though the bite had hurt, there was something about his voice, his presence, that made you want to give in. Despite yourself, you found your body relaxing under his touch, your breath steadying as you nodded again, almost instinctively.

Sylus smiled, his lips brushing against your neck once more. “Good girl,” he whispered before trailing soft kisses along your skin, his hands firm but gentle as they held you in place.

Before you could respond, his teeth sank into your skin again, this time in a different spot. The bite was just as sharp, if not sharper, and you gasped, your back arching involuntarily as another jolt of pain shot through you. The sting was immediate, but beneath it, there was a strange thrill, an intensity that made your heart race.

Your hands gripped the sheets even tighter as he bit down harder, holding the pressure for a few seconds longer this time. Warm tears begin to pour down your face. The sensation of his teeth against your skin left you both groaning in pain and caught in something deeper, more electric. Each mark he left felt like a brand, a reminder of just how much control he had over you in this moment.

Sylus didn’t pull back right away; instead, he lingered at your neck, sucking gently at the new mark he’d made, as if savoring the taste of your skin. Your breath hitched in your throat, your body trembling beneath him, torn between the sharp sting of the bite and the warmth that followed in its wake.

When he finally released you, he trailed slow, deliberate kisses over the fresh mark, his tongue grazing your skin in a way that made your head spin. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the possessive way his hands held you in place as if daring you to protest.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was lay there, breathless, as the intensity of it all washed over you.

Sylus looked down at you, his gaze full of smug satisfaction as he admired the new set of marks he’d left on your neck. His thumb grazed over them gently, tracing the outlines of his bites as if claiming you in some silent, unspoken way.

“You wear my marks well,” he said softly, his voice laced with amusement. “Perhaps you should challenge me more often, kitten.”

Unable to respond, you watch as his lips makes contact with yours again, gentle but devastating. Every nerve in your body sings for him at the contact, and you feel more warm tears finally slip from your eyes to drip down between your lips and his. He pulls back to look at you, wiping those tears away and sighing in pleasure at whatever expression he finds on your face. You curl your fingers in his shirt and tug him back to you, wanting to savor this, but also wanting more, so much more.

Your tongue slips past his, and your fingers tangle into the back of his hair of their own accord. He moans, honest to god moans into your mouth at the contact, and any pretense either of you may have had about this being only a kiss simply evaporates. His mouth moves more insistently against yours, hand cradling the entire side of your face, and you finally allow your hips to push forward, finding him fully hard this time.

He suddenly leans back and pulls his shirt over his head one-handed in a smooth, practiced motion. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen. If you didn't know that almost certainly mind-blowing sex is soon to follow, you'd swear that there's nothing better on this earth than watching Sylus strip his own shirt off to bare that sinful chest.

He smirks down at you, resting one hand on your hipbone and snaking the other to the waistband of his pants, but that's more than you can take right now. You hook your legs around the back of his and pull him down, desperate, and you shudder as his clothed erection is finally brought flush against your arousal.

"Sylus, please," you whine, trusting that he knows what you're begging for. His fingers tighten and relax on your hip as if by reflex, and you can barely think straight around your need to have him inside you.

"You're sure?" he huffs, capturing your mouth again, and you'd laugh if you weren't fit to combust from desire.

"God, I'm sure." You don't think you've ever wanted anything more in your life, to be honest.

Sylus's lips pull up into another satisfied smirk against yours, and his fingers dig into your flesh with intent this time as he leans back again. "Maybe we should wait until you're more sober-"

"No!" you interrupt him, probably too quickly, and he quirks an eyebrow again. "Um, I mean...I'm good."

"You're good?" he asks, and fuck, it's so hard to think around this insistent, burning desire. You could sense his small hesitation and become desperate to ease his worries surrounding your state of mind.

"Yeah," you tell him again, as pointedly as you can while impatient with lust. "The nap really helped, I'm okay."

He hesitates a moment longer, and you feel like your about to combust with need.

"Sylus. I want you. All of you." You reach a hand out to cup the length of him through his pants, delighting in the narrowing in his eyes and the shudder that goes through him. A sudden thrill of confidence has you saying the filthiest thing you've ever said before you can stop yourself.

"I want you to cum inside me. Please."

You think the look in his eyes might be a little bit feral as he turns his full attention back to your body, tugging your skirt . He slips his fingers into your panties with no preamble, and he sighs appreciatively at the slick he feels there. "You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?"

He's going to drive you insane, and when you tell him as much, his only response is to tear the garment down your legs, toss it behind him, and press two fingers inside of you. You choke and gasp his name as he grins wickedly down at you.

"Yeah, you have." He presses deeper, thumb brushing your clit, and you can't hold back a desperate cry.

"Sylus, please-"

"Fuck..." His eyes trail down to where his fingers are buried, and you'd be self-conscious if you had even a single brain cell to spare that isn't consumed by pleasure. "Do you know how long I've wanted this, gorgeous? The second I saw you in that costume I wanted to tear it off".

You can only gasp and buck your hips shamelessly as he continues, murmuring encouragement and looking both as smug and as charming as he ever has. This feels so good, so unreal, his slender fingers hitting all the right spots inside you while his thumb continues rubbing lazy circles outside. You can hardly believe that the same fingers your eyes have lingered on as they hold bullets or curl around a trigger - the same hands you've seen kill countless times - are now the gentle architects of your mind-numbing pleasure.

"Come on, that's it," Sylus coos with a particularly delicious quirk of those fingers, pulling you out of hazy memories and back to what you realize is now an imminent orgasm. Your eyes drag from the stark outline of his erection against his pants, up his chest and to his face, where you catch him biting his lip in his concentration.

"Sylus-" Your hips buck against his hand as the tension coils inside you. "I'm-"

"I know. Go head and cum kitten," he says with another devilish grin, and god, he's going to be the end of you.

"Sylus," you gasp again, reduced to this mindless desperation as his talented fingers work you while your release hovers just out of reach. "Please, I'm-"

He finally takes pity on you and ducks his head to seal his mouth over your clit, and fuck, what you wouldn't give for more of that, but after all this build-up, one brush of his tongue is all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge. Both of your hands fist in his hair as you shudder under him, gasping and keening, and you feel him groan against your sensitive flesh.

Eventually, he pulls away, though it takes you several more seconds to come back to earth. When you open your eyes, it's to find him stripped down to nothing, hovering over you again with a self-satisfied expression.

"God," you say, still not recovered, and then, because you can't help it, your eyes drop to his cock. It's as beautiful as the rest of him, rigid and straining for you. Your core throbs again as you realize that getting you off is what got him this worked up. Fuck.

How as that possibly going to fit?

"It'll fit, don't worry" he says, as if able to read your mind. You don't even have to look at him to know that he's grinning.

You groan and throw an arm over your eyes to resist the very real temptation to stare at Sylus's naked body for the rest of your life. You feel him move closer, dropping down onto his palms above you, and you lift your arm to watch him settle between your thighs like he's always belonged there.

"You want to do this?" he asks softly, red eyes searching yours for one last confirmation, and you respond with a few tiny, shaky nods. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip with a quiet sigh. "Let me hear you say it, beautiful."

"Yes, Sylus," you plead, tears burning again at the corners of your eyes, and he hums his pleasure against your lips as he lines himself up. You inhale sharply through your teeth as you feel the first breach of his cock, holding that breath in your lungs as he slowly sinks in to the hilt. Christ, he's big.

"Breathe, kitten" he reminds you, still disarmingly gentle, though you can see the smug satisfaction plainly on his face. He braces himself on his forearms to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw, pulling out to slowly slide back in with a deep groan.

Your hands fist in his hair, and you think you might be onto something with that when his chuckle melts into a moan. He eyes lock onto yours as he buries himself as deep as he can again, and you're taken aback by the open adoration you see on his face - you can only hope your own face is mirroring that for him.

He slides out and in again, again, slowly falling into a steady rhythm that's better than anything you've ever felt in your life. For an endless time, there's nothing else - it's just the two of you, bodies coming together in pleasure, the occasional rougher thrust making you gasp his name as he mouths yours against your skin.

Sylus's hips suddenly still and he drops his head beside yours, heavy breaths hot against your ear. You shift underneath him, relishing the feel of his length still thick inside you but needy for him to move.

"Just need a second," he pants, sounding as wrecked as you feel. "I'm not ready to be done with you yet, sweetie."

And oh, if your heart (and your aethercore) could explode from words alone, those would do it. The most divine human being you've ever known is lying here staving off an orgasm so that he can keep fucking you. And he just called you sweetie.

Yeah, you're totally dead and gone.

You lie there for a few moments, matching your breaths to his and kneading your fingers into the firm planes of his back. An appreciative groan rumbles out of him, and he pulls back to slide out of you, silencing your noise of protest with a finger to your lips and a low chuckle.

"You'll get what you want," he admonishes, grasping one of your hips to give it a slight push. "Patience, kitten"

He leans back, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, hard against the vee of his hips and glistening with your wetness. Fuck. You shift your legs apart, and he's back on you immediately, one hand digging into the flesh of your ass and the other bracing itself next to your shoulder.

"Good girl," Sylus breathes into your ear, and you go boneless as he sheathes himself in your slick heat once more. "Good fucking girl, taking me so well."

You're beyond being able to respond to his filthy praise with anything other than gasps and moans, but he doesn't seem to mind, taking them as encouragement to fuck you even harder and bring your bodies flush together. When his hips snap forward, driving him deep, deeper, you swear you see stars. God, this angle is otherworldly, his cock hitting your most sensitive spot with each perfect thrust. Your hands cling desperately to his biceps, feeling those mouthwatering muscles ripple as he holds you tighter. Sylus's fingers wrap gently around your neck as his teeth nip your ear, and you cry out, feeling a familiar heat and tension begin to build within you.

"So close again?" he growls, each breath harsh as he fucks into you. "Shit...feels so fucking good."

Yeah, you're fucking close, if the steady stream of "yes" and "please" pouring from your lips and the almost painful way you're gripping his cock is anything to go on. You might even be sobbing now, who the fuck knows. His fingers clench against the pulse jumping in your neck, and there it is-

You glance up at him, muscles taut as he thrusts, and it's over for you, even before his eyes flick up to yours as he breathes,

"Cum for me."

Your body shakes against him as another orgasm barrels through you, and you think you might actually scream this time, which is a shame because you're sure Sylus is saying some delectable shit to you right now. He doesn't let up, cock still pounding into you relentlessly, and when you finally come down from your high, it's to find his moans coming out broken and his thrusts rougher than ever. He's close. He's right there. You're not sure what possesses you in that moment, but you reach a hand between your bodies and close your fingers gently around his balls. Your efforts are rewarded with stuttering hips and a glorious, drawn-out groan as Sylus cums hard, his face shoved roughly into your shoulder.

You take a moment as he pants against you, the aftershocks of your own orgasm still thrumming through you, to stare at the ceiling in disbelief that this is real life. You just had sex with Sylus. The leader of Onychinus. You're desperately in love with him and he might just feel the same about you.

When his hips finally still and he stops panting into your skin, you begin guide his face closer to yours, relishing the way he rests his full weight on top of you without thinking, dazed as he is in his own pleasure. He pulls your face toward his to capture your lips in another blistering kiss, this one unexpectedly tender after his ferocity only moments ago, and you moan softly through it at the feel of his cock still solid inside you.

You both catch your breath against the pillows for a few moments before he whispers that he's going to pull out, and you brace yourself for that final slide of his cock. Fuck, that should not feel as good as it does, especially considering that in the same second you have to clench your thighs to keep his release inside of you. Sylus lays on his back beside you with a sigh of contentment, and you turn carefully to lie right alongside him. You slide your hand over to his, not sure why you're feeling shy about this when you just got done being thoroughly fucked by him, but you feel relieved all the same when his fingers intertwine with yours.

Your breaths slow as you both lie quietly in the afterglow, and after a time, he turns to face you.

"I trust it goes without saying that you're welcome to stay as long as you like," he says, brushing your hair back from your face, and all of your emotions come rushing back. You love him. You love him.

"What if I never want to leave?" you whisper, and now it's spoken, now it's out there for him to do with as he will. He studies you for a long moment, and it could just be the light of the room reflecting in those red eyes, but you think you see them glistening.

"I think that could be arranged," he finally says, his voice as full of emotion as you've ever heard it, and you feel as though you're drowning in your love for this man. You swallow past the lump in your throat and throw him as playful a smile as you can manage.

"Well, that's good, because I feel your cum slipping out of me. Might need to put more back in there" you say, emboldened by his now obvious desire for you, but still feeling bashful as you say it. Both of his eyebrows shoot up, and he laughs, a deep, indulgent sound.

"Careful," he purrs, wrapping both arms around you like a vice. "Might get me going again."

"Plenty of time for that later," you tell him, leaning forward to bury yourself in his chest again, hoping your words carry the weight of the three specific ones you're still too embarrassed to say out loud.

"And more," he murmurs in your ear, arms tightening around you, his words sounding an awful lot like an unspoken affirmation to your unspoken vow.

This wasn't such a bad Halloween after all.

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace smut #sylus #sylus x reader smut #lads #l&ds smut #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #love and deep space sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds #sylus qin #lads smut #lads scenarios #sylusposting

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bth3cowboi · 8 months ago

Text

snoop the fondness, cs55 x reader

part 2 part 3 part 4

masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x driver!reader

summary: sometimes family is a boy, a girl and her snoopy plushie. sometimes appendixes and lost cars try to get between that.

format: social meadia au

a/n: the reader’s f1 team is never specified in this! so it is completely open to interpretation.

( instagram )

ynraces 18h

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 1.234.901 others

carlossainz55 18h

liked by landonorris, ynraces and 800.456 others

replies

ynraces

thats my literal baby if u even care

my babyyy my babyyy hes my babyyy say itt to himmm babyyy

carlossainz55

our baby

im his papa

ynraces

papi😈😈

liked 16h ago

ynraces

liked by f1, charles_leclerc and 2.234.655 others

ynraces P5 in Saudi! some great points were gained, super proud of the team this weekend, now onto Australia🇦🇺 😎.

I wish my lover boy raced 🫶💞 but as you can see he had a fight with some appendix guy(? At least he won that one

tagged carlossainz55;

see all comments

user1 omg not the drugged up pics and snoopy😭 shes not serious

user2 haha snoopy was also in carlos post with his dad so no surprised

carlossainz55 Wow I look handsome in that one

ynraces never looked better😘

landonorris Oooooh you had to take the plushie

ynraces yes but i regret it cuz he kept telling the nurses that they NEEDED to meet our baby and then I had to explain that it was actually just snoopy

landonorris I NEED THAT VIDEO HAHAHA

carlossainz55 No no those are lies

charles_leclerc No way I need the video too yn🙏 I bet he was gonna embarrass himself

ynraces check the gc

carlossainz55 You guys are the worst

user3 carlos getting appendicitis wasnt on my bingo card

user4 them having a bet going on wasnt on mine either lol they must be having a field day in that groupchat

( twitter )

( instagram )

ynraces

liked by landonorris, f1 and 1.556.887 others

ynraces in order:

1. Snoopy triying to find my car (is in the sea somewhere idk)

2. Some guy I picked up otw (he only spoke about some surgery he had(? weird)

3. That guy winning his 3rd GP!!! (apparently hes like a driver or something, super cool!! love him and his big brown bambi eyes!!!)

see all comments

carlossainz55 Love you too❤️❤️

liked by ynraces and 6087 others

user1 Did Snoopy find it?

ynraces yes and he sent it to Japan already, baby is efficient

user2 I just let out a scream of relief

user3 omg so glad youre gonna race

landonorris Don’t pick weirdos off the street🤮

ynraces ur just jealous it wasn’t you picking him up u ugly

landonorris 💔💔 Carlos say something

carlossainz55 Ay don’t be too mean to Landito

ynraces whatever you say beautiful🫡

user4 I cant wait for Japan and pray for a podium with Carlos and Yn😞 They deserve it

carlossainz55

liked by scuderiaferrari, ynraces and 1.933.298 others

carlossainz55 P1 and a special thanks to the beautiful Yn, can’t imagine what recovery would have looked like without her inconditional support. I’m gutted she couldn’t race this time, but we’re coming stronger next time. Te amo, mi reina❤️

see all comments

ynraces Te amo mucho🥹❤️

carlossainz55 yo más guapísima

user1 a single post for yn, this is so cuteee

user2 this man doesnt have a contract for next year so he WILL be simping for his rival on main, ferrari be damned

scuderiaferrari 🫶🏽❤️!

user2 oh hi

charles_leclerc Wow not a single comment about Snoopy, so sad, what would Yn think

ynraces didn’t even notice😞 I let the compliments fool me

charles_leclerc You are the worst parents

carlossainz55 Snoppy got his thanks in the hospital, stop inventing!!!!

ynraces HAHAHAHAH

——

a/n: hope you liked this!! I wish I had an explanation for this plot but there is nothing, just vibes and snoopy

#f1 #carlos sainz #cs55 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 imagine #snoopycarlos

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domm1etae · 1 month ago

Text

Anytime, Anywhere

welcome to domm1etae's kinktober

day 3 : FREE USE

yunho x f!reader

Yunho and Y/N are in this wild "free use" agreement where Yunho can basically take her whenever he feels like it, no warnings, no heads-up, just whenever he’s in the mood. Y/N loves it too, and it's all about the thrill of not knowing when he'll make a move

nsfw tags under

m/f, top yunho, bottom reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, free use, dominance, possession, dirty talk, power play, manhandling, hair pulling, begging, praise kink, cnc, orgasm denial, neck kissing, and mooore

Requests OPEN! - let me know through the ask button if you have any requests for this Kinktober

author's note: the more u read this, the better it gets;)

navigation | kinktober masterlist

Y/N stood at the sink, the warm water running over the dishes as she scrubbed away, completely absorbed in her task. The scent of soap mingled with the faint aroma of the dinner they had just shared, a comfortable evening routine that she loved. The familiar clink of dishes resonated in the cozy kitchen, creating a soothing atmosphere. But the peaceful moment was about to be disrupted.

“Y/N,” Yunho called from the living room, his voice playful yet laced with a hint of mischief. “I hope you’re not too busy to play.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she tried to suppress a grin. “What do you think I am, a robot? I can multitask, you know.” She turned to face him, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her heart fluttering at the playful tone in his voice.

“Multitasking? Is that what you call washing dishes while I’m here getting all hot and bothered?” Yunho’s tone was teasing, and she could see the way his eyes sparkled with mischief as he approached the kitchen, his movements languid yet purposeful.

Y/N turned slightly, glancing over her shoulder, and caught a glimpse of Yunho leaning against the doorframe. He looked absolutely irresistible, dressed in a simple black tank top and lounge shorts that hugged his thighs perfectly. The way his muscles rippled as he shifted slightly sent a rush of heat through her. “Maybe you should do the dishes instead then,” she replied with a smirk, trying to hold her ground.

“Or,” he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping an octave, “I could just use you as my distraction.”

Her heart raced at his suggestion, a playful challenge flickering in her mind. “And how exactly would that work? I have important dishes to wash,” she replied, pretending to be serious as she picked up another plate.

“Important? I don’t think so. Look at you, all focused and pretty,” Yunho countered, stepping closer until he was almost flush against her back. The warmth of his body sent shivers down her spine. “Don’t you want to have some fun?”

Y/N turned slightly, catching his gaze and feeling a thrill at the intensity in his eyes. “Fun, huh? I suppose it could be more fun than scrubbing these dishes,” she said, her voice teasing.

“Exactly. Life is too short to spend it washing dishes, don’t you think?” His lips curled into a mischievous smile, and her heart raced in response.

Before she could even finish her sentence, Yunho was upon her, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her back against him. She gasped, the sudden warmth of his body against hers sending her pulse racing. “Y/N, I can’t help it. You’re just so irresistible,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt his warm breath caress her skin. “Yunho—”

But before she could articulate her thoughts, he yanked her shorts down, exposing her to the cool air of the kitchen. She gasped again, this time in shock, the sudden chill sending shivers down her spine. “Keep washing,” he commanded, voice deep and gravelly, as he pushed into her from behind.

Y/N stifled a moan, gripping the counter tightly as the sensation of him filling her sent shockwaves through her body. “Yunho, this is so—”

“Just like that. Keep your hands busy,” Yunho said, his breath hot against her neck, his tone playful yet authoritative.

“Yunho, I—”

“No excuses. Just let me use you.” His thrusts were deliberate and steady, each movement igniting a fire within her that was impossible to ignore. With every push, Yunho’s hands gripped her hips tighter, anchoring her to him as he filled her deeply, his veiny member stretching her in ways that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, blending with the sound of running water.

Y/N could hardly focus on the dishes in front of her, the soapy bubbles slipping through her fingers as she struggled to keep washing. Each thrust pulled a moan from her lips, and she found herself losing the battle against the overwhelming sensations washing over her. Her heart raced, and her breathing quickened, each thrust making it harder to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure surging through her.

“Yunho, this is so—” she gasped, her words trailing off as he spanked her lightly, the sharp sting sending shockwaves of excitement through her.

“Just like that. Keep your hands busy,” Yunho said, his breath hot against her neck, his tone playful yet authoritative, the rhythm of his thrusts becoming more urgent.

Y/N stifled another moan, gripping the counter tightly as the heat coiled tighter within her. She couldn't help but let a small whimper escape as the sensations took hold. “Yunho, I—”

“No excuses. Just let me use you.” His thrusts deepened, the pleasure almost unbearable as he filled her completely, making her feel like she was floating. She was acutely aware of every sensation—the way her body reacted to him, how the pressure built with each thrust, and the delicious ache that settled deep within her core.

“Yunho, I can’t—” she breathed, feeling the heat of her impending climax building with each deliberate stroke.

“You’re so naughty,” she murmured, unable to hold back her moans as he pushed her closer to the edge.

“You love it,” he countered, his grip tightening on her hips as he increased his pace, his movements becoming more fervent. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“Yunho, I—”

“Say it!” he growled, the intensity in his voice making her breath hitch.

“I love it when you use me like this!” Y/N cried out, her voice rising as pleasure coursed through her veins.

“Good girl,” Yunho groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he neared his release. “I’m going to fill you up, okay?”

“Yes, please,” she begged, her voice desperate and breathy.

With one final, deep thrust, Yunho came inside her, filling her full of his load. The sensation left her breathless, her knees trembling as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her. She leaned heavily against the counter, trying to regain her composure, but the remnants of his touch lingered, making it impossible to focus on the dishes in front of her.

Yunho pulled out almost immediately, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watched her struggle to process what had just happened. “See? I told you this would be more fun than washing dishes,” he teased, leaning against the counter beside her.

“Now clean up,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he stepped back, leaving her standing there, wanting more.

“Just like that?” Y/N protested, half-amused and half-annoyed, turning to face him fully, the water still running in the sink. “What about me?”

“Clean up first, and then we can discuss some… arrangements,” he replied, his tone suggestive, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

“What arrangements?” she asked, feigning innocence as she turned off the water and dried her hands on the dish towel.

Yunho stepped closer again, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Free use, Y/N. I want to be able to use you whenever I want, wherever we are.”

Her heart raced at the suggestion, the thrill of it sparking something deep within her. “You really think I’d agree to that?”

He pulled back slightly to meet her gaze, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Oh, I know you will. Just imagine it: anytime, anywhere. You’ll be mine to use. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun, huh?” Y/N mused, biting her lip as she considered it. “And what if I say no?”

Yunho stepped even closer, his body inches from hers, the heat radiating off him. “What if I just make you say yes?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, excitement flooding her. “Is that a challenge?”

He grinned, a devilish glint in his eyes. “It could be. But I’d prefer to think of it as a promise.”

“Alright, you win. Free use it is,” Y/N conceded, her heart racing at the prospect of what was to come.

“Good girl,” Yunho said, his voice low and satisfied as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now, let’s see what else we can do in this kitchen.”

With a newfound energy coursing through her, Y/N smirked back at him, a devilish glint in her eyes. “What are you waiting for? I’m right here.”

Yunho’s gaze darkened, and he stepped closer again, his hands finding her waist as he pressed her back against the counter. “Oh, I plan to make the most of this, believe me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers for just a moment before pulling away, leaving her wanting more.

“Yunho…” she whispered, her heart racing with anticipation.

“Yes?” he asked, feigning innocence as he stepped back, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t tease me,” she warned, a playful frown on her face. “You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, as he stepped closer once again. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You said you wanted to agree to free use, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“Exactly. So, why don’t we start practicing?” he suggested, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Before she could respond, Yunho surged forward, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. Y/N melted against him, her hands instinctively finding their way to his hair as she pulled him closer. Their kiss deepened, and she felt the familiar heat building between them once more.

Yunho broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against hers. “You see? I’m just getting started. You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about this—using you while you’re doing something mundane, making you forget everything else.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at his words, a mix of embarrassment and excitement swirling within her. “You’re unbelievable,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe. But you love it,” he replied, his hands sliding down to her thighs, lifting her slightly to sit on the edge of the counter.

“Yunho, what if someone walks in?” she asked, glancing towards the living room, the thought of being caught sending a thrill through her.

“Then they’ll just have to deal with it,” he said confidently, his hands gripping her waist as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her neck. “Besides, the thrill of being caught just adds to the excitement, don’t you think?”

She gasped at his touch, feeling her body respond instinctively. “You’re something else,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to kiss down her neck.

“Something else? Maybe. But you love every second of it.”

ANOTHER TIME

Y/N was sprawled comfortably on the couch, the soft fabric enveloping her as she absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, a soft smile playing on her lips. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. She was lost in the digital world when the front door swung open, and in walked Yunho, still drenched in sweat from his intense workout.

He paused just inside the door, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it, his hair sticking to his forehead. His tank top clung to his body, showcasing the muscles that had been put to work just moments before. As he caught sight of Y/N lounging on the couch, a smirk broke across his face, and his eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and mischief.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, his voice thick with exhaustion yet laced with an unmistakable hunger.

She glanced up, a teasing grin forming. “Hey, Mr. Fitness. You look like you could use a shower.”

But before she could finish her sentence, Yunho closed the distance between them in a matter of strides, his movements quick and determined. He hovered over her for just a moment, eyes locking onto hers, and in that instant, Y/N felt her heart race. There was no time for witty banter; he had other plans.

With a swift motion, he pushed her legs apart and slid between them, the heat radiating from his body engulfing her. His hands were suddenly on her, fingers deftly tugging at her clothes, brushing them aside with an urgency that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins.

“Yunho—” she started, a mixture of surprise and playful protest in her voice, but it was cut short as he captured her waist, lifting her slightly to settle her against the couch.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin as he leaned in closer. The scent of sweat mingled with the lingering smell of his cologne, intoxicating and raw. Y/N’s body responded instinctively to his closeness, and any words of resistance faded away.

In one fluid motion, he found his way inside her, and Y/N gasped at the sudden fullness. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the intensity of the moment. Yunho didn’t waste time; he began to thrust into her with a primal urgency, each movement deliberate and powerful. Y/N clutched the couch, her fingers digging into the fabric as she surrendered to the sensations washing over her.

“Yunho,” she managed to gasp, but it was more a moan than a coherent thought. He simply continued his relentless pace, losing himself in the rhythm of their bodies. The living room filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the soft squeaks of the couch beneath them, and Y/N's breathy gasps.

Her world narrowed down to the sensation of him moving inside her, the way he filled her completely, taking without asking, just as they both liked it. His hands were firm on her hips, guiding her, controlling the way they moved together.

Y/N couldn’t help but let her body arch towards him, craving more of his heat. The intensity built with every thrust, her breath quickening as pleasure spiraled in the pit of her stomach. Yunho’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression fierce yet focused, completely consumed by the moment.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his voice low and gravelly, but there was no question in his tone—he was claiming her, using her for his pleasure, and it made her feel exhilarated and wanted.

She wanted to respond, to tell him how much she loved this, but all that escaped her lips were whimpers and moans as he drove deeper, his thrusts growing more frantic. The world around them faded into nothingness; there was only this, only them.

As he felt himself nearing the edge, he leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that stole the breath from her lungs. The taste of sweat and desire mingled between them, fueling the fire of their connection.

With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside her and came, a low growl escaping his lips as he filled her, their bodies trembling together. The heat of his release enveloped her, and she could only cling to him, lost in the aftershocks of their passionate encounter.

Yunho pulled back slightly, panting as he looked down at her, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “That’s better than any cooldown routine,” he chuckled, still breathless.

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything else, Yunho was already stepping back, leaving her breathless and wanting more. “Now, I think I’ll take that shower,” he said playfully, winking at her as he turned to head toward the bathroom.

Y/N shook her head, a smile still on her lips, knowing full well this was just the beginning of their new agreement on free use.

ANOTHER DAY

“No, sir.” Y/N’s voice rings with frustration as she types furiously on her keyboard. “Yes, I did submit the report already. I even emailed the final version to you last night around 8 PM.”

Y/N is currently on a video call with her boss, who is located in another country. The camera captures her professional demeanor, a neatly styled blouse enhancing her look while keeping her comfortable in the privacy of her home office. Below the desk, she’s wearing nothing but a pair of lace panties, making it difficult to maintain her focus.

Just as she finishes speaking, she hears the sound of a door creaking open behind her. Her heart skips a beat; she knows exactly who it is.

Yunho enters, his gaze immediately locking onto her. He’s freshly showered, droplets of water still glistening on his skin, a towel draped around his waist. Y/N’s breath hitches as he approaches her, a wicked smile playing on his lips. She quicky turns off her camera and mutes herself.

“Y/N,” he whispers, leaning in close enough for her to feel his warm breath against her neck, “you look so focused. Isn’t it time for a little break?”

Y/N glances at her laptop, her boss still droning on about project details. “I can’t! I have deadlines to meet,” she insists, trying to sound serious even as her body betrays her, yearning for Yunho’s touch.

But Yunho isn’t deterred. He moves closer, brushing his fingers along her shoulder, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, you know you want this. Just a quick moment to remind you how much I love to use you.”

She bites her lip, trying to resist, but he’s already sliding his hand under the desk, fingers brushing against her thigh. The contact sends a jolt of electricity through her, and she fights to stay composed. “Yunho, I really can’t…”

“Your boss doesn’t need to know, does he?” Yunho smirks, and before she can respond, he pulls her panties aside, his mouth moving against her. She should have worn pants, not only her panties, even tho, she is at home.

“Yunho!” she gasps, her voice a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Her body instinctively arches toward him, wanting more. The sounds of her boss's voice fade into the background as she gets lost in the sensations.

He licks and sucks, drawing soft moans from her lips that she desperately tries to stifle. “Mmm, that’s it. Just like that. Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”

“Y/N?” her boss's voice breaks through the haze. “Are you there? You’re muted.”

“I—uh…” Y/N stammers, heart racing, desperate to maintain some semblance of professionalism as Yunho continues his teasing. He’s relentless, his mouth moving expertly against her, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her.

“Everything okay?” her boss asks, a hint of concern in his tone.

“Just… a moment!” she manages to reply, her voice trembling as Yunho intensifies his efforts, sending her spiraling toward ecstasy. “I’m—”

“Perfect,” he murmurs against her, his lips pressing against her skin as he gives one last fervent lick. “Let’s make this quick, then.”

Y/N gasps, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. “Yunho, I—”

“Just let go, Y/N,” he urges, his voice dripping with lust as he continues his ministrations. “You’re my toy, remember? Just let me use you.”

The world around her blurs as she surrenders to the wave of pleasure crashing over her. “Yes, Yunho, please…” she breathes, finally succumbing to the moment.

As her body tenses and she feels herself on the brink of release, Yunho suddenly pulls back, teasing her as he wipes his mouth with a smug grin. “Not yet, baby. You need to keep it together for your boss.”

“Yunho!” she cries out, frustration mixing with the desire that still courses through her. “I can’t—”

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, brushing his fingers against her thigh as he leans back in. “I’ll give you something to think about while you finish your call.”

Y/N’s breath hitches, a mix of anticipation and desperation as she watches him, her mind racing with the thrill of being so exposed. She tries to refocus on her laptop, but Yunho’s presence is overwhelming, his teasing touches setting her on fire.

Her boss’s voice breaks through the haze again. “Y/N? Are you sure everything is alright? You’ve been muted for a while.”

“Y-yes, sir! Everything is fine!” she stutters, barely holding onto her composure as Yunho nips at her thigh, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through her.

“Great,” her boss says, and Y/N knows she should focus on the call, but all she can think about is how Yunho has completely derailed her.

Yunho smirks, clearly enjoying the situation, and leans in closer, whispering, “You’re doing so well, just remember you’re my toy. I can use you whenever I want.”

With that, he stands up, leaving her breathless and eager for more as she tries to compose herself and refocus on the call, the tension thick in the air.

ANOTHER DAY

The warm water cascaded over Y/N as she stood under the showerhead, the steam enveloping her in a comforting haze. She had taken the time to unwind after a long day, enjoying the soothing sensation of the water against her skin. The bathroom was filled with the fresh scent of her favorite body wash, a hint of lavender that mixed with the steam.

Just as she leaned against the tiles, closing her eyes to relish the moment, she heard the bathroom door creak open. She turned, surprised, and found Yunho stepping into the shower, fully clothed and drenched in water.

“Yunho!” she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up in her throat. “What are you doing? You’re disturbing my alone time!”

He stepped closer, the water glistening off his toned body. A playful smirk spread across his face, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. “Alone time? With me around?” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “I think not.”

Before she could protest further, he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the cool, slick tiles of the shower wall. The sudden movement stole the breath from her lungs, but instead of fear, a thrill raced through her. “You belong to me,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.

Y/N’s heart raced as she felt the heat radiating from his body. “And what if I want to be alone?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Yunho chuckled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from her face. “Not a chance,” he whispered before leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

Their mouths moved together hungrily, the kiss igniting a fire within her. He pulled back slightly, his breath mingling with hers, and then he captured her gaze, his eyes smoldering with intensity. “You know the rules, babe. Free use means I can take you whenever I want.”

Y/N bit her lip, a mixture of anticipation and excitement flooding her senses. “You’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without warning, Yunho dipped his head, trailing his lips down her neck and across her collarbone. She gasped, the sensation electrifying as he explored her skin with his mouth. His hands roamed over her body, tracing her curves as he made his way down to her thighs.

“Yunho, we’re in the shower…” she started, but the words fell short as he knelt before her, his fingers teasing the edges of her body.

“I know exactly where we are,” he replied, looking up at her with that cocky grin that always made her weak in the knees. “And I intend to enjoy it.”

With that, he wasted no time, his mouth on her, his tongue skillfully working to bring her to the edge. Y/N's head fell back against the tiles as pleasure coursed through her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him on as he licked and sucked, driving her wild.

“Yunho, please,” she moaned, her legs shaking with the intensity of it all. “I—”

He pulled away just as she felt herself teetering on the edge. “I know what you want, but I’m not done playing yet,” he said, his breath hot against her skin.

“Yunho, you can’t just—” she started, but he silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Just trust me,” he whispered before standing up, his hands still gripping her waist tightly. “Let’s get back to you.”

As he turned the water temperature a little hotter, he took the shampoo bottle and squirted some into his palm. “Now, let me wash your hair.”

He gently massaged the shampoo into her scalp, his fingers working through her hair with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the possessiveness he had just displayed. Y/N leaned into his touch, relishing the softer moments between their heated encounters.

“See? I can be sweet too,” Yunho said with a playful smile as he rinsed her hair.

“Sweet? You didn't even let me finish!” she laughed, feeling blissfully content in this moment.

He laughed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “That was what I wanted, baby.”

“And why is that exactly?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“So that I can fuck you like an animal after this shower.”

ANOTHER DAY

The late afternoon sun filtered through the glass panels of the apartment building as Y/N stepped into the elevator, her heels clicking softly against the floor. She was exhausted from a long day at work, the weight of deadlines and meetings lingering on her mind. The elevator doors slid shut, and she sighed, leaning against the wall as she waited for the familiar descent to her floor.

Just as she turned to press the button, the elevator jolted slightly, and she glanced up to find Yunho stepping in right before the doors closed. His presence filled the small space, an electric energy sparking between them. He flashed her that signature smirk that always sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said casually, leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, his toned physique accentuated by his fitted shirt.

“Hey,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady despite the rush of heat that crept up her neck. “I thought you were still at the gym.”

“Just finished up and figured I’d catch you before you got home,” he said, taking a step closer as the elevator lurched downward. The sudden movement made her heart race, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to be a moment she wouldn’t forget.

Before she could respond, the elevator came to an abrupt halt, and Yunho seized the opportunity. He stepped closer, his breath warm against her skin. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Y/N felt a flutter of nervousness as she shifted slightly, trying to maintain some distance. “Yunho, what are you doing? The doors could open any second.”

He chuckled softly, leaning in even closer, his hand brushing against her waist. “Relax. It’ll be quick,” he assured her, that devilish smirk still playing on his lips.

“Quick? Like how quick?” she stammered, her heart racing with both excitement and anxiety.

“Just trust me,” he said, his fingers trailing down her side, igniting a trail of warmth. The gentle touch sent shivers coursing through her body, and she found herself leaning into him, despite her reservations. “You’re my favorite distraction.”

Before she could protest further, he captured her lips in a searing kiss. The world outside faded away, and for a moment, it was just the two of them, the tension and thrill of being caught up in this stolen moment heightening every sensation. She felt herself melt against him, the kiss deepening as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer.

Y/N gasped as Yunho’s hands slid beneath her blouse, fingers teasingly brushing over her skin, sending jolts of electricity through her. He moved with deliberate slowness, allowing her to feel every touch. His fingers found the hem of her shirt, inching it up until they could access the warm skin of her stomach.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured against her lips, his voice husky with desire as he trailed kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. The sensation of his warm mouth against her skin made her shiver, a mix of pleasure and anticipation building within her.

He pressed his lips against her neck, sucking gently, and she instinctively tilted her head back, giving him better access. The combination of his lips and the soft pressure of his fingers rubbing circles around her waist made her dizzy with need. “Yunho,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as she felt her body responding to his every touch.

His hands roamed further, fingers finding the delicate lace of her bra, teasing the edges before moving higher. With a deft motion, he unhooked it, exposing her to his hungry gaze. She bit her lip to suppress a moan as his fingers found her erect nipple, rubbing slow, tantalizing circles that sent waves of pleasure radiating through her.

Y/N squirmed slightly, both from the exquisite sensation and the very real threat of being caught. “Yunho, what if someone comes?” she managed to gasp, her eyes fluttering shut as he continued to play with her, the tension of the moment making it all the more intoxicating.

“Then we’ll just have to be quick, won’t we?” he said, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Yunho—”

Before she could finish her thought, he captured her mouth again, deepening the kiss as his hands worked their magic. He shifted his attention from her nipple to her inner thigh, fingers trailing up beneath her skirt, teasing her just where she needed it most.

She moaned softly, her body betraying her protests as he caressed her through her lace panties, the friction sending spirals of pleasure coursing through her. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, as he applied just the right amount of pressure.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmured, voice thick with lust. “You’re my favorite little cum toy, and I can use you whenever I want.”

Y/N felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and thrill running through her. “Yunho, we can’t,” she said weakly, though the way her body was responding was betraying her words.

His finger slipped beneath the fabric of her panties, finding her slickness. “See? You’re already ready for me,” he teased, rubbing in slow, teasing circles.

As the elevator remained still, every second felt like an eternity. She could hardly think straight with the way he was touching her, and as the pressure built, she felt herself edging closer to release. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, he suddenly stopped, pulling back with a wicked grin.

“Yunho!” she gasped, frustration mingling with desire as he withdrew his hand, leaving her breathless.

He chuckled, a low, teasing sound that sent a thrill down her spine. “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to play,” he said, casually straightening his clothes, as if nothing had happened.

Y/N could hardly process what just occurred, her heart racing and body still humming with need. The elevator doors suddenly dinged, and she quickly composed herself, smoothing down her skirt as the doors slid open.

“Yunho!” she protested, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.

He stepped out confidently, glancing back at her with that infuriatingly charming smile. “You’ll thank me later,” he said, walking away as if nothing had happened.

ANOTHER TIME

Y/N was busy cleaning up the kitchen after a long week. She hummed softly to herself, wiping down the counters and putting away the last of the dishes. Their friends were set to arrive any minute for a casual hangout, and she wanted everything to be perfect. Little did she know, Yunho had other plans in mind.

As she bent down to grab the last dish from the bottom of the sink, she felt a warm presence behind her. Before she could even turn around, Yunho slipped up close, his body pressing against hers.

“Hey there,” he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice that sent a shiver down her spine. “Looks like you’re busy.”

“Just cleaning,” Y/N replied, trying to focus on her task even as her heart raced. “You know, the usual before our guests arrive.”

“Oh, I don’t think we’ll have time for that,” Yunho said, and before she could protest, he slid his hands down her sides, fingers trailing over her hips and teasingly pushing her skirt up.

“What are you doing?” she asked, half-excited and half-nervous. The thrill of being caught lingered in the back of her mind.

“Just reminding you how much you love being used,” he said, his breath hot against her ear as he positioned himself behind her. She gasped as she felt him press against her, the hard length of him making her pulse quicken.

“Yunho,” she protested weakly, but he simply shushed her with a teasing smile, his hands now gripping her waist firmly.

In one swift motion, he pulled her skirt up over her hips, exposing her bare skin. “Just a quick one, I promise,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he rubbed his cock against her slick entrance.

A soft moan escaped her lips as he pressed against her, teasing her with his veiny dick for just a moment before finally pushing inside. The sudden fullness took her breath away, and she gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles whitening as he filled her completely.

“God, you’re so tight,” Yunho grunted, and Y/N couldn’t help but moan in response. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure coursing through her as he began to thrust slowly, taking his time to let her feel every inch of him.

“What if they hear?” she gasped, the thrill of the moment sending waves of heat throughout her body.

“They won’t,” he assured her, voice dripping with confidence. “Just focus on how good it feels.”

As he picked up the pace, his hands gripped her waist tighter, fingers digging into her soft skin, leaving imprints as he thrust harder. Yunho's fingers slid up her torso, finding her breasts and pinching her hardened nipples roughly, making her gasp.

“Yunho!” she cried, both in pleasure and shock at how possessively he was treating her body. It hurt, but the pain mixed with pleasure only heightened her arousal.

“Keep those pretty sounds coming,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “I want to hear how much you love it.”

His lips trailed down to her neck, sucking and biting, leaving dark marks against her skin. The mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through her, and Y/N felt herself getting lost in the sensations.

Yunho pulled her hair back, exposing her neck even more as he continued to thrust into her. “You like being used like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “You were made for it.”

“Yunho, please,” she whimpered, feeling herself on the edge. “I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Not yet,” he growled, the determination in his voice sending shivers down her spine. He pulled back slightly, only to slam back into her with renewed vigor, making her cry out in pleasure.

“I want to feel you fall apart around me,” he said, his thrusts relentless.

“Shit, I’m so close,” she managed to gasp, her body tightening around him.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Let go for me.”

With a final thrust, Yunho buried himself deep inside her, and she came undone, her body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“Fuck!” he groaned, feeling her clench around him as she reached her peak. The sensation sent him over the edge, and he spilled himself deep inside her, filling her completely.

Y/N leaned against the sink, breathless and panting, a mixture of satisfaction and exhilaration coursing through her. She felt him pull out slowly, and panic surged through her as she realized the mess they had made.

“Yunho, they’re going to be here any minute!” she exclaimed, scrambling to fix her clothes and regain some semblance of composure.

He smirked, casually adjusting his shirt. “Relax. Just act natural,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “They’ll never suspect a thing.”

As the doorbell rang, Y/N quickly wiped the countertop, her heart racing. She couldn’t help but glance over at Yunho, who was already striding confidently toward the door, the look of mischief still dancing in his eyes.

“Best boyfriend award definitely goes to Yunho.” she thought.

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