#it took me way too long to figure out what outfit I even wanted

[arackoondraws]

redson but with a Pinterest outfit

Sketch-

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights. 

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what���I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being. 

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option. 

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime. 

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal. 

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.” 

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place. 

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes. 

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest. 

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context. 

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third. 

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn���t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that. 

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold. 

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?” 

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there. 

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside. 

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course. 

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over. 

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all. 

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out. 

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always. 

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after. 

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so. 

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty. 

“I scare you?” 

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed. 

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it. 

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy. 

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill. 

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible. 

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems. 

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it. 

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one. 

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob. 

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why. 

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator. 

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then. 

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms. 

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes. 

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans. 

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something. 

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you. 

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

[1lovewony]

Escape the Spotlight (Hanni of Newjeans)

Hanni x Male Reader (Y/N) Word Count: 1841 words Summary: Y/N fucks Hanni after her birthday, oh also this is canon so sum issues about them rn.

The soft hum of the city filtered through the dorm’s open window, carried by the cool evening breeze. Hanni had left it cracked just enough for the noise to feel distant, like a reminder of the world outside, one she was eager to escape from tonight. She leaned against the desk in her small, cozy dorm, her phone loosely grasped in her hand as she reread the last message she sent.

“Hey, come over. I need a distraction.”

Simple, direct, and maybe a little too forward, but she was tired of holding back. Her birthday was supposed to be a time to celebrate, but all it had been was a whirlwind of interviews, scheduled social media posts, and the pressures that came with being under the spotlight as an idol. For once, she wanted to forget about the cameras and scripts and just be herself.

The only person who could assist her in doing that was Y/N.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but the minutes dragged as she waited. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation creeping up her spine. It wasn’t often that she invited someone into her private space like this, but Y/N was different. There was something about him that made her feel... safe. She didn’t need to put up her walls or play a part when he was around.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. His message was brief:

“On my way. Be there soon.”

Hanni exhaled, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She pushed herself away from the desk, pacing a bit to calm her nerves. She had no idea what tonight would lead to, but she knew she wanted it to be far from the reality she lived in every day. No cameras, no judgment, just her and Y/N.

As she moved around the room, she glanced at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection showed a different side of her—Hanni Pham, the idol, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was just Hanni, in a simple oversized hoodie and comfortable shorts, her dark hair tied up messily. She was free from the usual layers of makeup and the high-maintenance outfits, and for once, she liked it. It was the real her. She wished more people would see, but they didn’t.

She rubbed her arms absentmindedly, feeling the familiar anxiety settle in. Being an idol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The expectations, the scrutiny, the never-ending demand to be perfect—it was exhausting. And as much as she loved her fans, sometimes she just needed a break.

Tonight, she hoped Y/N would be that break.

The knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She moved quickly, her pulse quickening. Pulling the door open, she was met with the sight of Y/N standing there, looking a bit out of breath but with that familiar smile that always made her feel at ease.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and slightly teasing. “Didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I? ”

Hanni shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “No, you’re just in time.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was an awkward pause as they stood there. The tension between them was subtle but palpable. They’d known each other for a while, but tonight felt different. Something was hanging in the air, something unspoken, and neither of them seemed ready to address it—at least not yet.

Y/N took in the room, noticing the faint scent of lavender that lingered, the warm glow of the dim light she’d set up, and the slight mess that hinted at her life outside of the polished image people saw on stage. It was intimate and personal.

“You look... comfortable,” he remarked, his eyes tracing over her figure, not in a way that made her self-conscious but in a way that made her feel seen. Really seen.

She smiled, playing with the hem of her hoodie. “It’s my birthday. I wanted to be comfortable.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to spend it... with me? ”

She shrugged, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

That admission hung in the air, and Y/N seemed to understand. Without saying a word, he stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding her. He wasn’t there to judge or to expect anything from her. He was just... there. And that was what she needed most.

They moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the foot of her bed. The conversation flowed easily at first—catching up, joking around, talking about things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But as the minutes passed, Hanni found herself opening up more, telling him about the things she didn’t usually share with others.

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole idol thing... it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

Y/N listened intently, his gaze never leaving her face. He nodded, not interrupting, just letting her speak.

“I just... I want to be myself, you know? ”She laughed bitterly. “But sometimes, I don’t even know who that is anymore.”

There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. Y/N reached out, gently taking her hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re Hanni,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “That’s enough.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was such a simple statement, but it meant everything to her at that moment. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. She could just be... her.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant, as if she were testing the waters. But when Y/N kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, something inside her clicked.

This was what she’d been missing. This connection, this intimacy. The world outside didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was him and the way he made her feel like she was enough, just as she was.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as the tension between them finally broke. Hanni’s hands slid up his chest, pulling him closer as their breaths mingled, the room around them fading into the background. All of her worries, her stress, her insecurities—they melted away in his embrace.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Hanni rested her forehead against his, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “For being here.”

Y/N smiled, his hand resting on her waist, grounding her. “Always." Y/N removes his shirt with a quick motion, leaving Hanni with a desired look. Hanni instantly kisses Y/N with more passion, as if she were dehydrated for lust. Both of them moan as their mouths explore each other. After an intense makeover, Hanni grabbed her shorts and tossed them to the side. Y/N then put his hands over her thighs; Hanni’s already wet from the sloppy kisses they had. Y/N rubbed his hands on her pants, making circles on Hanni’s clitoral area. Instinctively Hanni moans under his mouth. “Ugh, yes, make me cum Y/N.Hannah is reaching her limit; she holds on with the kiss and moans louder and louder with every hand movement of Y/N. “I am going to cum, Y/N, I am going to cu... ughh.” She reached her orgasm, slowly fading to Y/N's body as she loses her energy. They looked at each other with a smile. “I want you on me, Y/N.” Without wasting any time, Y/N removed his pants, greeting Hanni with a bulge in his boxers. Hanni’s face was flustered by the view. She was smiling and grinning. “Wow.” leaves from her mouth. Instantly she moves onto his boxers and removes slowly while looking at Y/N eyes. Y/N cock flew from his boxer and hit Hanni’s face. Both laughed, but then Hanni swallowed the rod in her face. “Oh Hanni.”

She bobbed her head up and down, swallowing inch by inch of Y/N cock. She is making slurping sounds, moaning while taking what’s her. She continued the blowjob, occasionally changing the pace. “I am getting close.” When she hears this, she increases the pace like she's racing a deadline. She speeds her bobbing, galloping every inch of Y/N cock, and after a minute Y/N shoots his hot semen in her mouth. She swallows all of his cum, even licking the ones that overflow from her mouth. Hanni then stands over Y/N, removing her hoodie, showing her cute boobs to him, and playing with her nipples—that’s already hard.

Hanni slowly lowers her body to Y/N, aligning her opening to him. She kept eye contact with him, having conversations with their eyes and being playful with it. His cock entered the heavens when Hanni finally let him come in, breaking the silence with a moan from both of them. She adjusted as the tip was entering. It is not their first time, yet she's still tight as ever. Y/N groaned from the feeling of his cock entering Hanni’s pussy. As she lowered her body more, it also adjusted with Y/N's size; after all,  7 inches isn’t that easy to penetrate.

Hanni gives up and lowers her entire body to him, leaving her to lose control of her body and slams to Y/N, but luckily he catches her and at the same time kisses her on the lips, creating another makeup session. She slowly moves her hips and starts her ride. “Oh, god, your cock feels so good on me,” she blurts from her mouth.

Just like the blowjob, she also increases her pace slowly. She truly wants to make it all the time and to experience another world far from her idol image. They parted lips as the pace started getting faster. Hanni then let Y/N do more of the work; he's now the one driving the pace as he fucks her hard, leaving Hanni with moans and pleasure.

“Fuck!! ,” she screamed as she  coughed. Y/N followed with his seed shooting inside her. ‘Oh sh*t, I cummed inside fuck my bad,” he said to her.

Oh yes, cum inside me. I am on pills, you dumbo.” With her approving of him to cum inside of her. Y/N carried Hanni and changed into a dogstyle position and kept fucking her.

This goes throughout the night; time passes, lives change, and a new world is ahead.

Hanni kisses Y/N, “Thanks for coming; I had fun.” “Me, too. I am always here when you need me. Goodnight.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks for reading!!

A/N: Hanni smut?, Hanni smut, Hanni smut!, HANNI SMUT!??!!!

[enemiestolovershoe]

Best Birthday Ever

Chris Sturniolo x bsf!reader

Summary: Y/N and Chris deepen their friendship turning his 21st birthday into an unforgettable night.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, use of y/n, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), friends to lovers, virgin!chris, loosing virginity

Words: 3.8k

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The very first day of high school felt like an overwhelming blur of unfamiliar faces and nerves. But one thing stood out crystal clear—being assigned to sit next to Chris Sturniolo. It was almost comical how fast you hit it off. Within minutes, your shared sarcastic jokes and mutual confusion about the teacher's seating chart made it seem like you’d known each other for years. That was the beginning of everything.

Soon after, Chris introduced you to his brothers, Matt and Nick, who were his triplets. Meeting them felt like being absorbed into an entirely new world—a chaotic, hilarious, and ridiculously fun one. From that point on, the four of you became inseparable. You were a unit, a team. Movie nights, impromptu late-night drives, junk food binges—you name it, you did it together.

But something shifted when you were around 19. Out of nowhere, your feelings for Chris transformed. What used to be simple friendship became something deeper, something that scared the hell out of you. It hit you like a brick, sudden and unrelenting. Yet, you did your best to suppress it. There was no way you’d risk your friendship for feelings he likely didn’t share. What you didn’t know, though, was that Chris felt the exact same way. He’d been quietly falling for you but chose to hide it, too terrified of losing what you two had.

Then you got a boyfriend. It wasn’t anything serious at first, but things escalated quickly, and before long, you’d lost your virginity to him. Chris’s reaction was colder than you expected, especially when it came to your boyfriend. He was distant, sharp even, whenever the subject came up, though he never fully explained why. Things unraveled when you caught your boyfriend cheating. Devastated, you went straight to the Sturniolo house. Chris was the one who stayed up with you all night, listening to your sobs and holding you as you cried. He never let you go until you felt whole again. Even now, years later, he was still there for you.

After that heartbreak, you never dated again. And now, two years later, everything felt like it had gone full circle. You and the Sturniolos were as close as ever.

At 21, you were the oldest of the group, since the triplets were still 20—though their 21st birthday was only hours away. That’s why you were currently at their house, getting ready for a celebration with their closest friends.

Arriving a bit earlier than the others, you’d decided to get ready with Nick. He always had the best taste in fashion, and you trusted him more than anyone else when it came to looking your best.

“Y/N!” Matt shouted from the doorway, wrapping you in a bear-crushing hug the second you stepped inside. Nick quickly followed suit, pulling you into his arms with a grin. But it was Chris who hugged you the tightest. You noticed how his hands lingered for just a second too long before he finally let you go.

“Geez, Chris, you trying to crush her ribs or something?” Matt teased, smirking knowingly at his brother. Chris shot him a glare, cheeks tinged pink, and mumbled something about “just saying hi.”

Upstairs, you and Nick dove into picking an outfit. “No offense, but that top screams ‘I gave up,’” Nick said, holding up a much more stylish option.

“Excuse me? This top is a classic,” you argued, though you ultimately took his advice.

As you were finishing up your makeup, the door to Nick’s room burst open. Chris stood there, holding a can of Pepsi, his expression caught between nerves and awe. “Uh... I figured you might want something to drink,” he stammered, extending the soda to you.

You couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he seemed. “Thanks, Chris.”

Nick’s jaw practically dropped. “Wait, hold up—did Chris just willingly share one of his Pepsis? Are we in an alternate universe?”

Chris rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. “It’s just a drink, Nick. Relax.”

“Sure, just a drink,” Nick teased, winking at you. Chris muttered something under his breath before making a quick exit.

When you finally made your way downstairs, the party was already in full swing. The living room was packed with friends, music thumped through the speakers, and the smell of pizza filled the air. Everyone was laughing, chatting, and enjoying themselves.

It wasn’t long before someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The group eagerly circled up, the energy buzzing with anticipation. At first, the questions were lighthearted—“What’s your most embarrassing moment?” or “I dare you to shotgun a beer.” But as the night went on, things took a more daring turn.

One girl turned to you with a mischievous grin. “Y/N, have you ever faked an orgasm?”

The room went silent, all eyes on you. You felt your body tense, memories of your ex flashing through your mind. Chris, who had been leaning against the wall next to you, straightened up, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly, forcing a small smile. “I have.”

The group laughed, some people making jokes, but you could feel Chris’s eyes on you. His gaze wasn’t teasing or curious—it was protective, concerned.

Your turn came, and you directed a question at one of the guests, trying to shift the attention off yourself. After a few more rounds, the attention shifted to Chris.

“Truth or dare, Chris?” one of the guys asked.

Chris hesitated. “Uh... truth.”

The guy smirked, clearly looking to stir up some drama. “When was the last time you got laid?”

The question hung in the air, heavier than any of the others. Chris froze, the usual playful energy in his demeanor completely gone. His brothers exchanged glances, clearly taken aback, and you noticed how he clenched his fists at his sides.

“You okay, Chris?” you asked softly, leaning in just enough so only he could hear.

He swallowed hard, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah... I’m fine.” But his voice betrayed him—it was shaky, uncertain.

Chris hesitated, the silence in the room stretching unbearably before he finally answered, forcing a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve never gotten laid. Next question.”

The room fell completely silent. A ripple of shock passed through the circle, and even his brothers exchanged surprised glances. Chris’s gaze flickered to the floor, his usual confidence stripped away in an instant.

Without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand gently on his arm, offering silent reassurance. When he glanced at you, your sweet, supportive smile met his uncertain eyes. Slowly, his tense shoulders relaxed, and he managed to return the faintest smile, gratitude shining through his vulnerability.

The moment passed, and the group awkwardly shifted back to drinking, chatting, and carrying on as if nothing had happened. You stuck around for a while, laughing with Matt and Nick as the party carried on, but your eyes kept darting around the room. Chris had vanished.

After a few minutes of scanning the crowd and not spotting him, you excused yourself. “I’ll be right back,” you said to Matt and Nick, who were too deep in conversation to notice the concern lacing your tone.

You made your way upstairs, stopping in front of Chris’s door. Knocking softly, you called out, “It’s me. Are you in there, Chris?”

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing Chris standing there with red, puffy eyes. His usual playful energy was completely gone. He looked vulnerable, broken.

“Chris…” you said softly, your heart sinking at the sight of him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you. He took a deep, shaky breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts, but the moment he spoke, it all came tumbling out.

“I’m so fucking embarrassed, Y/N,” he blurted, his voice cracking. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room as he continued. “Everybody knows now. They know I’m a virgin. It’s so fucking humiliating. I wanted to lie, I really did, but I just couldn’t. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t.”

Your chest ached at the raw frustration and shame in his voice. Without hesitation, you crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His hands hovered awkwardly for a moment before he melted into your embrace, clinging to you like a lifeline.

“Chris, listen to me,” you said gently, your voice firm yet comforting. “There is nothing—absolutely nothing—you need to be embarrassed about. You haven’t had sex yet. So what? That doesn’t change who you are. Anyone who thinks differently can shut the fuck up, because they don’t know you the way I do.”

He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly fading. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands coming up to cup his face. Your thumbs brushed away the lingering tears on his cheeks as you smiled softly at him.

“You’re still you, Chris,” you continued. “Whether you’ve had sex or not doesn’t change that.”

Chris let out a shaky laugh, though the sadness in his eyes hadn’t completely disappeared. “I just feel like… I don’t know, like I’m behind everyone else. I’m 21, for God’s sake.”

“Not yet,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve still got, what? Half an hour?”

That earned a real laugh from him, though it was tinged with melancholy. “Doesn’t make a difference,” he muttered. “It’s not like I’m going to lose it in the next hour.”

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “What if you do?”

Chris’s brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes locking onto yours. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. “What if I take your virginity?”

Chris blinked, stunned into silence. He searched your face, trying to figure out if you were joking. “Y/N, stop joking, please. This is serious.”

“I’m not joking, Chris,” you said softly, your voice steady.

His breath hitched. “You—you would do that for me?”

“I’d do anything for you, Chris,” you said, a soft smile spreading across your lips.

For a moment, he just stared at you, his emotions flickering across his face—confusion, disbelief, and something deeper. Then, slowly, as if testing the waters, he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative and soft.

It was the first time Chris had ever kissed you, and it was everything.

The kiss started soft, like a gentle spark igniting between the two of you, but it quickly grew more heated. Chris’s hands found your waist as you leaned into him, his grip tightening with every passing second. You pushed him back with a playful nudge, and he stumbled onto his bed, his laughter mixing with the sound of the mattress creaking beneath him. Before he could say a word, you climbed onto him, straddling his lap and pulling him up into another deep kiss.

His breath hitched as your core pressed against him, and you could feel him hardening beneath you. The slight friction caused a soft whimper to escape both of you, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You began moving your hips in slow, deliberate motions, eliciting quiet moans from Chris as he tilted his head back, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice breathy, almost pleading. You pulled back just enough to look at him, his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes wide and filled with nervous excitement.

“Relax,” you murmured, your lips brushing against his. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt, tugging at it slightly. “This needs to come off.”

Chris blinked, his nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, okay,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he lifted his arms to help you pull his shirt off. The second his chest was bare, you couldn’t help but run your fingers down his torso, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch.

“You’re beautiful, Chris,” you said softly, the sincerity in your voice making him blush even harder.

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You can’t just say stuff like that, Y/N. I’m trying to keep it together here.”

You grinned and leaned down, your lips brushing against his jawline. “Who said I want you to keep it together?”

His breath hitched again as your words sank in, and you guided his hands to the hem of your shirt. “You can undress me too, Chris. No need to be shy.”

His eyes met yours, wide with both excitement and hesitation. After a moment, he nodded, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifted your shirt over your head. The way his breath hitched again when he saw the black lace bra you were wearing made you smile.

“Wow…” he muttered under his breath, his eyes glued to you.

You chuckled, reaching for one of his hands. “You can touch me, Chris. It’s okay.”

He looked at you as if asking for reassurance, and when you nodded, he let you guide his hand to your chest. His fingers flexed hesitantly at first, but as he began kneading your breast through the fabric, his confidence grew. His other hand quickly joined, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he touched you.

“Does this… feel good?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Better than good,” you replied, leaning down to kiss his neck. Your lips left a trail of soft, open-mouthed kisses along his skin, and his whimpers were like music to your ears.

When his hands faltered slightly, you pulled back just enough to look at him. “You’re doing perfect, Chris.”

He smiled, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re… perfect.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you didn’t linger on them for long. Instead, you climbed off his lap, earning a small, disappointed sound from him, and began sliding your skirt down your legs. Now, standing before him in just your matching black lace underwear, you noticed how his eyes roamed over you, filled with awe and adoration.

“You’re staring,” you teased, though his gaze only made you feel more confident.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, though his eyes didn’t leave you. “I just… you’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

You stepped closer, kneeling between his legs as your hands reached for his belt. “You don’t have to be nervous, you know. It’s just me.”

“I’m not nervous,” he insisted, though the way his hands fidgeted gave him away.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Liar.”

He laughed softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Maybe a little.”

You leaned into his touch, your voice soft. “We’ll take it slow, Chris. I promise.”

With that, you focused on unbuckling his belt, taking your time to open the button of his jeans and slide them down his legs. When you glanced up at him, his expression was one of pure anticipation.

“You sure you wanna do this, Chris?” you asked, your tone serious now. “It’s your first time, and I don’t want to make you feel pressured or… repeat the same mistakes I did.”

His hand reached for yours, squeezing it gently. “I’m 100% sure, Y/N. This will never be a mistake to me.”

The conviction in his voice made your chest tighten, and you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.”

You slid his boxers down next, leaving him completely bare before you. Chris’s cheeks turned crimson, but he didn’t try to hide himself. Instead, he watched you with bated breath as you wrapped your hand around him, your touch gentle as you spread the precum along his length.

“Is this okay?” you asked, wanting to make sure he was comfortable.

“Yeah,” he breathed, his head falling back against the headboard. “It’s more than okay.”

You pumped him slowly at first, watching his reactions carefully. The way his chest rose and fell, the quiet moans spilling from his lips, it all made you want to give him more.

Leaning forward, you swirled your tongue around his tip, savoring the way his hips jerked slightly at the sensation. “Y/N…” he gasped, his hand finding its way into your hair as you began to take more of him into your mouth.

You worked him with a mix of your hand and mouth, listening to the sweet sounds he made. He was a mess beneath you, his moans growing louder and more desperate with every passing second.

“Y/N, I—” His voice broke as he tried to warn you he was close, but just as he was about to reach his peak, you pulled off him, leaving him breathless and whimpering.

Chris’s chest was heaving, his breath ragged as he lay beneath you, trying to compose himself. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. “Why did you stop?” he asked, his voice breathless and laced with desperation.

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear as you whispered, “Because I don’t want you to cum yet. I want you to cum with me, pretty boy.”

Chris let out a strangled moan, his head falling back against the pillows as his eyes rolled back. “Fuck…” he groaned, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

You smirked, loving how completely undone he was beneath you. Slowly, you stood up from your position, your movements deliberate and teasing. His dazed eyes followed you as you straightened, and you held his gaze while hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

Chris swallowed hard as you stripped them down your legs, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. His breathing grew even shakier as you stepped out of them and stood there, completely bare before him.

“God damn, you’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice reverent. His words were so sincere, so filled with awe, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you, Chris,” you replied softly, your lips curving into a playful smile. You pointed toward the headboard. “Now, scoot over to the headboard for me.”

Chris blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly obeyed. “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a shy smile, moving back until his head was resting against the headboard, his long legs stretched out before him. His hands fidgeted in his lap, a mix of anticipation and nervous energy.

You crawled toward him, your movements slow and deliberate, and his wide-eyed gaze never left yours. As you settled back into his lap, straddling him once more, you placed your hands on his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your palm.

Chris still couldn’t believe this was happening. The fact that you—his best friend, the girl he had been secretly in love with for years—were about to take his virginity felt almost surreal. He looked up at you, his eyes full of adoration and vulnerability.

“You okay?” you asked softly, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead.

“Yeah… I just…” He paused, his lips twitching into a small smile. “I still can’t believe this is real.”

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “It’s real, Chris. And it’s just us. Nobody else, nothing else matters right now.”

He nodded, his hands finding your hips again as you reached between your bodies, lining him up at your entrance. “Are you ready, Chris?” you asked, your voice gentle but filled with anticipation.

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes locking with yours. “More than ready.”

With that, you sank down onto him slowly, letting him fill you inch by inch. A loud, unrestrained moan tore from Chris’s throat, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he tried to steady himself. You let out a shaky moan of your own, the feeling of him stretching you almost overwhelming.

“Chris,” you gasped, your voice trembling, “you’re so big…”

“Fuck,” Chris groaned, his head falling back against the headboard. “Don’t say that—I don’t want to cum yet.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning forward to kiss him again. “You’re doing so good,” you whispered against his lips, your voice soft and reassuring. “Just breathe, okay?”

He nodded, his hands roaming up and down your sides as he tried to keep himself from completely losing control. You began to move, lifting your hips before sinking back down onto him, setting a slow and steady rhythm.

The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, soft moans and gasps escaping both of you. Chris’s eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze full of so much love and admiration that it made your heart ache.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice shaking. “I… I don’t even have words for this.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek as you leaned in to kiss him again. “Just let yourself feel it, Chris. Don’t think—just feel.”

He let out a low groan, his hands moving to grip your waist as you began to pick up the pace. “Fuck, I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled, his words barely audible but unmistakable.

For a moment, you thought it might just be his pussy drunk mind talking, but the way he looked at you told you he meant every word. Your heart swelled, and without hesitation, you whispered back, “I love you too, Chris.”

His eyes widened for a split second before they softened, a beautiful smile spreading across his face despite the tension in his body.

“I’m so close, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice desperate.

“Me too,” you gasped, your movements becoming more erratic as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening.

The moment your climax hit, you cried out his name, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. The feeling of you tightening around him was too much for Chris to handle, and with a loud moan, he followed you over the edge, spilling inside you as his entire body shuddered.

You both collapsed against each other, your foreheads touching as you tried to catch your breath. Chris’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion.

“You don’t need to thank me,” you replied, brushing your fingers through his damp hair.

“I do,” he insisted, his eyes meeting yours. “And I meant what I said. I love you—I have for a while now.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you smiled. “I love you too, Chris. I always have.”

You leaned in, kissing him deeply, the moment filled with nothing but love and tenderness.

Suddenly, a loud banging on Chris’s door shattered the quiet.

“Wrap it up, Chris!” Matt’s voice boomed from the other side. “You missed the birthday countdown—we’re officially legal!”

You and Chris both froze before bursting into laughter, the tension from the moment dissolving into pure joy.

“Happy birthday, baby,” you said between giggles, leaning in to kiss him again.

Chris grinned, his cheeks still flushed. “Best birthday ever.”

Taglist: @sophand4n4 @courta13

[kentogetsmewetter]

Pookies Requiem

⋆｡°✩Genre: ony x black reader smut with plot

⋆｡°✩Synopsis: inspired by the song pookies requiem by salorr in which three months after you guys broke up you see ony with a new girl and she looks and moves similarly to you. You feel like he's being disrespectful to you showing her off kissing her in front of you, and it all boils over from there.

⋆｡°✩Contents: oral(fem reciving), fingering, sex(p n v ), overstimulation, pet names, praise, they r lowk toxic, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasams

You haven't seen onyankopon in a little over three months since you guys had your breakup. It was a somewhat mutual breakup. You felt like you had to because you just weren't in the right mental space to be in a relationship at that point, and he felt like he had to, to give you that space to clear your head. He really didn't want to breakup he did it cause he cared for you is what he said but you didn't forget how he would never want to show you off in public dropping your hand when you went into stores never posting you, so you were just done with that whole thing.

So when the first time you see him in three months, you see him sitting across from you with his "girl" on his lap. You were extremely confused and felt disrespected. He sat across from you, leaning back onto the couch, His legs were spread wide, in his right hand, he held a half-burned blunt, the faint curl of smoke rising between his fingers. His other arm was wrapped possessively around her waist, his fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. She leaned into him, her gaze flickering between his face and the room, her lips curving into a soft smile you wanted to rip off her face.

She was pretty, you couldn't lie, her deep brown skin glowing under the dim lighting, Long bohemian braids flowing down her back, reaching all the way to her waist. She wore a snug, cropped baby tee that clung to her figure, revealing just a hint of toned midriff paired with a sleek black mini skirt that hightled her long legs. The fit was completed with knee-high boots that hugged her calves, their glossy finish reflecting the ambient light.

What caught your attention most, though, was her face it was uncanny. Her features eerily mirrored your own, almost as if it was on purpose. The sharp arch of her brows, the perfectly blended makeup that highlighted her almond-shaped eyes, and even the gloss coating her full lips all felt strangely familiar.

Her style, too, seemed like a deliberate copy of your own, she was clearly biting off your look, from the way her braids framed her face to the outfit she had on the way her makeup was styled the face piercings, and even the bleached brows. You've seen this chick before and you know damn well she didn't have this look a year ago. It literally looked like he was wit a mini version of you to cope, you couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your homegirl came back having a drink in her hand she placed it on the table in front of you her grin wide. "Girl this better have more juice than alcohol,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at her. She let out a playful chuckle tilting her head to the pair sitting across from you." please I know you need it."

Onyankopon's hand moved with slowness trailing up and down the curves of her thigh. Their lips were locked in a heated desperate kiss with their bodies leaning into each other. It was the kinda kiss that made them feel as if they were the only two in the room. Her fingers found the way to the back of his neck tracing slow patterns with her long acrylic nails.

You sighed, already regretting whatever concoction she’d handed you. But she wasn’t wrong. Your fingers tightened around the glass as you took a sip. The burn of the liquor hit the back of your throat sharply. "God damn girl, this shit is like straight alcohol." She just chuckled, unbothered. “You’ll thank me later" She sent you a small wink.

You chuckled but you felt disrespected as hell, your anger only growing a small scowl pulled at your lips and your features even though you tried not to show you were upset. Finally, the two of them broke apart, as your gaze drifted back to Onyankopon. You didn't wanna look at him. You really didn’t, but it felt impossible not to.

He sat there, cool and looking unbothered as he slowly brought the blunt to his lips the ember glowed faintly as he took a slow drag, his eyes half-lidded and slightly red as he threw his head back blowing out a cloud of smoke. He looked good too good it only made you angrier. The compression shirt he wore clung to him like a second skin, highlighting the defined muscles of his arms and each curve of his biceps. Around his neck, an icy Cuban chain glinted under the dim lighting, every diamond refracting in the light in tiny flashes that matched the diamond grillz on his teeth when he laughed.

And he was laughing deep and rich, his attention seemingly glued to her. It made you tighten your grip on your drink. But your gaze lingered a second longer than you should've cause like he’d been waiting for you to look. His sharp eyes met yours, his lips curving into a smirk, slow, deliberate, and arrogant. It wasn’t just a smile, it was a challenge he knew what he was doing and to twist the knife just a little deeper, he sent you a small wink while you raised your middle finger to him.

"Yo, chica," Connie’s voice called pulling your attention away from the scene you’d been trying and failing not to fixate on. His tone was light but teasing. "You gon’ stare at 'em all night, or you gon’ actually say something?"Your eyes sharply snapped to Connie's before rolling them with exaggerated annoyance. "Man, shut up," you muttered under your breath, but his smirk only widened.

"Ion got shit to say to his fuck ass," you said louder this time Ony's eyes landing on you. With a small huff you pushed yourself up from the couch, the words and movement just abrupt enough to draw a few more eyes in your direction. "I'm going to the bathroom." Not waiting for his reply you walk away hearing "Alright, chica." but while you are walking away you feel the strong gaze of ony searing into your back while you leave.

The tension between you and Onyankopon was impossible to ignore. It lingered heavy in the air pulling the energy in the room into an uncomfortable stillness. No one wanted to say it out loud, but everyone could feel it the charged energy between you and Onyankopon. This was the first time anyone had been around his new girl, and it was clear no one had expected her to show up. Her presence lowkey threw everything off. She sat close to him, her body angled in a way that claimed him without needing to say a word. She looked relaxed, her smile soft and unfazed, laughing at whatever joke he murmured to her. Onyankopon seemed just as unbothered, leaning back in his seat with the same casual demeanor acting like nothing was wrong.

But the vibe was off. Everyone could feel it, and it was lowkey fucking with the flow of the night. The music playing in the background felt quieter somehow even the usual banter that kept the group lively seemed muted. It was clear the vibe had shifted but neither Onyankopon nor his girl seemed to care.

"Annoying ass nigga," you mumbled under your breath, carefully reapplying your lip liner in the mirror. The soft hum of music playing in the background did little to ease your irritation. You leaned closer, perfecting the sharp edges when a sudden knock at the door made you pause. Assuming it was one of your friends checking in on you, you called out casually, "Come in." Your tone shifted instantly when the door opened to reveal the last person you wanted to see. "Get the fuck out," you snapped.

Instead of doing what the fuck you told him to do he smirked and stepped inside, the low click of the door lock echoing in the small space. "Why I gotta leave, ma?", his voice carrying that familiar, cocky tone that always got under your skin.

You crossed your arms, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "Where yo lil girlfriend at?" The sourness in your voice was impossible to miss, but he just chuckled, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you." Why you worried about her?" he asked, his tone teasing, A smirk played on his lips as he bit down lightly on his bottom lip while his eyes roamed over you in a way that made your skin heat up.

"Trust me, I ain’t never worried bout ha" you spoke with a shrug your tone indifferent as you were downplaying the irritation inside you. "really?" he chuckled"So why was you so pressed when I had her on my lap n' shit?" He leaned closer into you as he spoke, with his knowing tone setting you on the edge. It was that one tone that made you feel so exposed like he just knew everything.

"Nigga, cause you disrespectful as fuck." you snapped stepping closer to him jabbing your long perfectly manicured nail into his chest. "Doing all that shit right in front of my face. really? " Your words came out sharply but the slight tremor in your voice showcased your true hurt feelings.

For a split second, he didn’t respond, just watched you with that look in his eyes, you also took the time to observe him. before you knew it, he had you cornered your back pressed against the cool wall, the space between you close to close, overwhelming so his sent a mix of your favorite cologne he wore and smoke was filling your nostrils like a trap, you were trapped. His body towered over yours, in a way that made it impossible to ignore that feeling you had for him deep down.

You tried to keep your composure, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You felt as if his eyes were piercing into your skin making you feel small your eyes skimming over his chest, the wall to your left, the floor anywhere but him. His lip curved into that same aggravating smirk you'd seen all throughout the night you felt it without even looking at him. He knew he had you and you hated that he was right.

"Yea?" he said softly, his smooth and low almost a whisper. His fingers, tipped with clear polish, slipped under your chin with a gentle yet firm touch, you swoalled hard your pulse quickening while his hand tilted your head upward forcing you to meet his eyes. "You’re not even looking me in my eyes right now, mama." his voice soft but weighted every word hitting you like a punch. His thumb lightly brushed your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. "You only do that when you’re mad..."

His other hand, tattooed and warm slid down to your waist with an ease that felt too natural. His fingers pressed against your skin, warm and firm as they started tracing slow, soothing circles. The touch was soothing, almost comforting, but the effect it had on you was anything but calm.

"Nervous," he continued his lips curving into that signature smirk as he leaned in closer his breath brushing against your neck. "Jealous..." he added, dragging the word out, making you heart skip a beat. "You called me a fuck-ass nigga," he said with a quiet chuckle, his smirk deepening."Been rude to me all night. But…" He leaned in just slightly, his face close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His gaze traveled over your face studying every mood you tried to suppress." With how hard you tryna act right now," he said, his voice dipping even lower. "Ion think you’re mad."

"Trust me, I definitely ain’t jealous," you shot back, you pushed against his chest your palms flat against the hard surface the hard muscle beneath his shirt. You tried pushing him away from you but he wouldn't budge, too strong for that. Frustrated you gave up turning your head to face the wall beside you again refusing to meet his eyes.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and deep, like he found your resistance amusing."You act like I don’t know you," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, familiar tone that always made your stomach twist. before you could respond, his hand slipped beneath your shirt. His palm was warm against your bare skin, his touch deliberate as his fingers spread across your waist, cupping you with a familiarity that made your breath hitch.

"How your body reacts to me," he murmured each word with a slow tease. " And only me." His thumb brushed lazy circles against your skin the subtle movement filling your body with heat finding it hard to keep your composure. Your jaw tightened, as you swallowed hard you felt his gaze burning into the side of your face as you kept your eyes elsewhere trying to keep your composure, but he noticed everything the way your breathing spead, the slight tension in your shoulders, the heat creeping up your neck. He knew you all too well.

"How you can get so wet from the smallest touches," his voice deep it felt so intoxicating he gripped the side of your neck firmly, tilting your head slightly his lips brushing against the curve of your neck, placing slow, lingering kisses trailing from the base of your neck to that sensitive spot just behind your ear.

He was a little more right than you wanted to admit heat was pooling between your thighs, your body was responding to him in ways you couldn’t control."How easy it is for me to get you to cum," he whispered his words like a challenge and promise all at once, his hand sliding down lower the short skirt you were wearing giving him all the access he needed, his fingers easily found the hem of your panties tugging lightly testing how far he could push you.

"All you gotta do is say please, baby," his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke his fingers toying with the delicate fabric.You hated this, you hated how easy it was for your body to give into him, how every word, every touch had your body being so reactive to him. The worst part is he knew no matter how much you tried to fight it he always knew. " And if I don't?" you shot back quriking a brow challenging him trying to hold onto the last bit of control you had left.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his smirk still in place but softened with something that felt almost playful. "I’ll stop," he said simply, his voice calm giving you just enough space to breathe, the absence of his warmth leaving you feeling a bit cooler. His eyes locked onto your reading every emotion on your face." Do you want me to stop?" his voice becoming softer your throat felt dry, your chest tight, and for a moment, the room felt smaller like the walls were closing in around you. His words lingered but you knew you couldn't give him what he wanted, what you wanted, he disrespected you kissed and rubbed all over her in front of you, he probably got that other bitch outside waiting for him.

"Yea, in fact, I do," you snapped, your tone sharp and cutting. "Actually, go back to that other bitch. Bet you were thinking about me the whole time you were with her, loser-ass nigga."You stood tall your arms crossed over your chest as your chin was tilted in defiance you glared at him, daring him to respond.

You saw his jaw tense slightly for a second, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at you, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. For a moment, you thought he might fire back, match your energy, and escalate things further. Instead, he gave you that madding smirk the one that always got under your skin, that was deliberate and full of arrogance, like he had already won whatever battle you thought you were fighting.

Onyankopon took a step back his movements smooth and calculated "Bet" he said, his voice calm and confident, his smirk deepening as he turned away, leaving you standing there with your emotions tangled and your chest tight." what the fuck.."

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection. The dim light highlighted the frustration etched across your features, your brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You were upset but more than anything, you were disappointed in yourself. You hated how close you’d come to giving in to him, how his touch and his words had nearly had you.

"I gotta get outta here," you muttered under your breath, gripping the edge of the sink you wish you could erase the memory of his aggravating yet sexy smirk, the way his voice lingered in your mind, the way you still felt his hot teasing touches on your skin. After a few more moments of pacing in the cramped space, you gathered yourself, stepping outside the bathroom ready to tell everyone your goodbyes.

"Ahh, Chica! There you are!" Connie’s voice boomed as soon as he spotted you. His mischievous grin spread wide as he leaned back in his chair, a blunt in one hand. "What, were you takin’ a shit or somethin’?" You couldn’t help but chuckle shaking your head at his audacity "Boy no." you shot back, rolling your eyes, but the corner of your lips tugging upward in a reluctant smile.

"Good! Now we can finally play the game," he spoke, clapping his hands together. Your face quickly scrunched up at his words "What game?" "You ain’t hear?" Connie teased, his grin widening as he leaned forward like he was about to share some big secret." We finna play truth or dare."

Truth or dare? Yea no that was a recipe for disaster. You were already shaking your head, backing up a step. "Nah, I’m not playin’ no truth or dare," you said firmly. "I gotta go."

"Booo, you're no fun. Just stay for one round, please?" Connie whined dramatically, tugging slightly on your arm like a little kid. "Yeah, just one," your homegirl chimed in, You glanced between the two of them, their over-the-top expressions making it hard to say no. You sighed reluctantly rolling your eyes. "Fine. Just one round." The pair erupted into cheers like they’d just won the lottery." oh my god" You shook your head lightly with a smile and before you knew it, you were being dragged back to the group.

The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the different scents of smoke and laughter as you all sat in a loose circle on the living room floor. It was you, your friend, Connie, Armin, Eren, Sasha, Onyankopon, and ole girl that he was still allowing to sit in his lap. Drinks were scattered across the coffee table, the faint smell of weed hung in the air, and the music playing in the background set the perfect vibe.

It didn’t take long for the game to take a turn. Of course, you weren't there for one round only. Truths became messier, dares became bolder, and the energy in the room shifted into something unpredictable, somehow you ended up with a blunt in hand, the warm paper crackling faintly as you brought it up to your lips. Your inhale was smooth, the smoke filling your lungs before you released it in a slow steady stream. For a brief moment, you felt the weight of the room fading but of course that didn't last long, you could feel Onyankopon's gaze drilling holes into the side of your head.

The others were laughing and shouting as Armin fumbled through a dare, but their voices felt distant in your mind. You refused to look his way keeping your attention on Armin in front of you. Your focus was on keeping your composure and pretending like Onyankopon’s presence didn’t affect you, even though it did. Instead of looking his way you exhaled again, letting the thick haze surround you while the game played on with rising tension and unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

"Okay, y/n, it’s your turn!" Sasha chirped, her smile a little too wide as if she was desperate to keep things light. You glanced at her, still feeling the weight of Onyankopon’s gaze lingering on you from earlier. His presence felt like a magnet, pulling at you no matter how hard you tried to ignore him. "Truth or dare?" Sasha pressed, her voice cutting through your thoughts. You sighed, leaning back into the couch. "Truth," you answered wanting to keep your peace for now. "What’s one of your biggest regrets?"

Sasha looked at you with an apologetic shrug, clearly realizing a second too late that her choice of question might’ve been a bit much.You inhaled deeply, the blunt in your hand burning idly as you took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling with measured calm. "My biggest regret?" you echoed, You could feel everyone’s anticipation, their quiet curiosity mixed with a little nervousness. Finally, you set the blunt down, brushing off the ash as you spoke. "Probably wasting my time on people who didn’t deserve it," you said simply, your words carrying a sharpness through the air

Sasha let out a nervous laugh, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Well, uh, that was... honest!" she stammered, trying to recover from the tension she’d just unleashed. Onyankopon didn’t say anything, but the way his gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line for a split second, told you everything you needed to know. You’d hit a nerve, and he wasn’t about to let it go unnoticed.

"Alright, Eren, your turn," Connie finally said, breaking the silence and steering the game forward, though the lingering tension was impossible to ignore. You took another drag from your blunt, pretending not to notice the way Onyankopon’s eyes stayed locked on you, the air between you still humming with unspoken words.

But of course, Armin being the instigator he is couldn't resist stirring the pot. He leaned forward, a sly grin spreading across his face as the energy in the room shifted. It was Eren’s turn, and for this round, he decided to play it safe."Truth," Eren said with a casual shrug. "Alright, here’s a good one," Armin had been waiting for this moment no hesitation in his voice when he said. " Do you think y/n and Onyankopon still have feelings for each other?"

The room went dead silent, the kind of quiet where even the music in the background felt muted. You froze the blunt halfway up to your lips, and all eyes darted between you and Onyankopon. The playful energy of the room shifted into something far more uncomfortable. Eren, visibly caught off guard, leaned back. " Bruh," Eren muttered, running a hand down his face as he regretted picking truth at that moment.

Onyankopon on the other hand didn't bother hiding his reaction, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the muscle ticking in his cheek. His usual calm, unbothered demeanor cracked just slightly, and for a moment, you could feel the heat of his irritation radiating off him. He shifted in his spot, his broad shoulders tensing as he glanced at you briefly before locking eyes with Armin. Armin was unfazed and enjoying every second of the chaos he leaned back on his hands, his grin only growing wider.

"Answer the question," Sasha teased, breaking the silence and nudging Eren with her elbow. You finally took a drag of the blunt, inhaling deeply like it was the only thing keeping you from snapping. Smoke curled from your lips as you exhaled slowly, refusing to meet Onyankopon’s gaze even though you could feel it boring into you. Eren hesitated, looking between you and Onyankopon like he was trying to navigate between making the air tenser

"Don’t even answer that dumbass shit," Onyankopon cut in, his voice low and sharp. His eyes remained fixed on Armin, daring him to push further. "Oh, come on, it’s just a game," Armin quipped, raising his hands in innocence. "Besides, we’re all thinking it, right?" You rolled your eyes, leaning back and blowing out another puff of smoke. "Y’all are so damn childish," you muttered. " And besides y'all disrespecting the lady I got on my lap right here."

"So now you worried bout disrespect? Got it, " you mumbled under your breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. But of course, someone heard, Onyankopon heard. His sharp gaze shifted to you instantly, his lips curving upwards. "Yea, I am," he said, his voice low but pointed like he knew exactly how his words would land. "What, you got something to say, ma?"

Your head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing as you met his eyes for the first time all night."Nah," you said coolly, though your tone betrayed the irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "Just funny how respect only comes up when it suits you."

The group sat frozen, their eyes darting between the two of you as if they were front-row spectators of the hottest new movie in theaters, Sasha raised her eyebrows, biting her lip to suppress a laugh, while Connie leaned forward, his grin wide as he whispered, "Oh, this about to get good." Armin's instigating ass sat back with a satisfied smirk proud of the little scene he was causing while Eren, who usually stayed detached, looked genuinely intrigued, his arms crossed as he watched the tension escalate. The air between you felt charged, heavy, as Onyankopon tilted his head slightly, that smirk deepening like he was enjoying this way too much. "Funny how you always got somethin' ta say when it’s about me,"

You straightened your back slightly, refusing to let Onyankopon’s words rattle you, but the heat in your chest only grew. "And what’s that supposed to mean?" you shot back, your voice sharp, Onyankopon let out a low chuckle and he leaned forward slightly, "You know exactly what it means, mama," he said, his eyes boring into yours. "You talk the loudest when you tryin' to convince yourself of somethin’."

The rest of the room was utterly silent now, every eye locked on the two of you. Connie muttered a quiet "Oh, shit," under his breath, leaning forward to catch every word, while Sasha’s wide eyes darted between you and Onyankopon, as though she were bracing herself for whatever came next.

You scoffed, your eyes narrowing as you stared at him with a sharp glare," And what am I trying to convince myself of?" Rising outta the soft sofa chair you tilted your chin upwards, refusing to back down. The challenge in your stance was clear, daring him to say something. Onyankopon mirrored your movement effortlessly, standing tall and matching your energy with an intensity that made the air between you crackle. His gaze locked onto yours. "That you don’t care," he said simply, his tone calm, almost too calm, as if he already had you figured out.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes even as the tension between you thickened. "Boy, please no one is worried about you and what you're doing." "Yea?," he said, his voice dropping lower a teasing edge dipping in. "You tryin’ so hard to act like I don’t get under your skin like you ain’t been feelin’ some type of way since you walked in and saw me."Your lips parted to respond, but no words came out, your mind racing for a comeback that wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He tilted his head, watching you intently.

"You talk the loudest when you tryin’ to convince yourself of somethin'," he continued, his tone laced with a confidence that made your chest tighten. "And right now? You tryin’ to convince yourself that I ain’t still in your head, that you don’t care what I do or who I’m with. But we both know that’s a lie."

He had you, and he knew it—knew you like the back of his hand, every button to push, every weakness to exploit. It infuriated you how easily he could get under your skin, how effortlessly he could unravel you with just a few words."Yea, your right cause you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself,"You jabbed your finger hard into his chest, the force of it making him take a half-step back, but his eyes never wavered from yours. Your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay composed. The frustration, the anger, the hurt all of it bubbled to the surface, threatening to spill over.

"You don’t give a shit about me or ole girl you brought here tonight." you spat, The tears you’d been holding back glistened in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. His smirk faltered, just slightly, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he quickly masked it. "That's what you think?" he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "That I don’t care?"

“I know you don’t care,” you vented, your voice trembling, whether from the anger you were feeling or the tears that would soon be running down your face, you weren't sure." cause if you did care you wouldn't have even brought this bitch here!"

You felt the knot in your throat getting tighter, the weight of everything, the anger, betrayal, the pain was so strong you felt like you could hardly breathe. You couldn’t let him see you like this vulnerable and feeling exposed.

Turning on your heel, you spat the words that had been burning on the tip of your tongue. “Fuck you, nigga. You’re a piece of shit.” Your voice cracked slightly, but the nastiness in your tone wouldn't go unnoticed. The words hung heavy in the air as you stormed off, your footsteps echoing in the sudden silence. Behind you, you could feel his gaze, a mix of shock and something else you couldn’t or wouldn’t decipher. But you didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

The ride home was a blur of headlights and streetlights blurred from your tear-filled eyes, your playlist filled with the saddest songs you could find each lyric pulling more tears from you, making the ache in your heart much heavier. With one hand on the smooth leather steering wheel, you used the other to wipe your checks even though it felt pointless.

You were finally letting the emotions of the night out, you were upset, angry really but not just at him. The situation kept playing over and over in your head, you thinking of different scenarios you should've done instead. That stupid fucking smirk on his face, his words, the way your feelings got completely disregarded. It wasn't just the fact that he disrespected you showing off that girl in front of you doing the things he would never do to you. It was also the fact that throughout the whole night, he acted as if nothing you said or did faze him like he was just enjoying playing a game.

But what stung worst of all is how badly you still wanted him. The memory of his touch lingered on your smooth skin still, every sensation burned into your mind, the way his fingers brushed against your skin so casually but left you wanting, needing more.

When you finally pulled into your driveway your body felt heavy and weighed down by exhaustion and frustration. You turned off the engine and with a shaky sigh, you made your way inside. tossing your bag onto the couch as you kicked off your shoes. Without thinking you grabbed the blunt you were smoking before and you sparked it, watching as the tip burned a bright red, the smoke curling into the air in your dimly lit living room. You inhaled deeply he warmth of it started to work its way through you, dulling your emotions just enough to breathe easier.

But even as you exhaled, the haze beginning the cloud the area around you, his face lingered in your mind, his voice, his touch, the way he had looked at you tonight like he knew exactly how to undo you. You took another hit hoping the weed would just do its job and calm you down.

After about fifteen minutes, the tension in your body had eased, The blunt doing its job leaving you feeling much more relaxed and calm, you did a small stretch feeling ready to take a shower and get some sleep.

But then, three loud knocks shattered that quietness, The sound made you jump slightly, your heart skipping a beat as you froze for a moment. You frowned, annoyed and unsure who would be knocking at this hour. You didn’t feel like dealing with anyone, thinking it was one of your friends checking up on you but curiosity got the better of you.

Huffing in annoyance you walked over to the window pulling the curtain aside just enough to peek out carefully to stay outta sight. And there he was Onyankopon, standing on your porch his hands shoved into his pockets his tall frame illuminated by the soft glow of the porch light.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. Of course, it was him. You should’ve known. The audacity of him showing up here after everything tonight is crazy. He caught your gaze through the window, and you didn’t bother to hide your disdain you raised your middle finger flipping him off mouthing a silent" fuck you."

His expression didn’t change much just that same irritatingly calm look, with the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his lips. You didn’t wait to see if he had anything to say. You let the curtain fall back into place and turned heading straight for the couch. Let him stand out there. You weren’t in the mood for whatever game he thought he yall were about to play.

That was until you heard the faint, click of the door unlocking. Your head whipped in the direction of the door heart sinking." “Oh, hell no,” you grumbled, realization hitting you that You’d completely forgotten about the spare key, the spare key that he damn well knew about you quickly scrambled toward the door, but before you could reach it, it was already swinging open. And there he was stepping inside like this was his house his calm, unbothered demeanor only fueling your anger. “C’mon, baby, let’s talk like adults,” he said smoothly, his deep voice filling the room as he shut the door behind him.

You stood rooted on to the spot your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowing into a scowl that could've easily burned holes through him. The audacity of this man to just walk in after everything tonight left you speechless it was almost impressive in a sick way. “Get the fuck out!” you screamed your voice cracking with all your built-up frustration. You were done, done with his games, his arrogance, his complete disregard for your boundaries. "You're a piece of shit, Fuck you. Deadass." you pointed at him in frustration

But he didn’t flinch, didn’t even move a muscle. Onyankopon just stood there his tall frame leaning slightly against the doorframe, his body relaxed in a way that only made your blood boil more. His dark eyes stayed locked onto yours, unwavering, like he was trying to read every emotion spilling from you. He didn't interrupt, didn't defend himself, just listened calmly. “I know, I know,” he finally spoke up his voice low. “Let’s talk about why I’m a piece of shit.”

That was it. Your body reacted before your mind could, you balled up one of your hands slamming it repeatability in the palm of your hand, the force and intensity echoing in the room as you spoke. “Ouu, nigga,” you muttered your voice trembling a mix of anger and other emotions you were trying so hard to suppress. Your vision blurred slightly, your chest tightening as a familiar sting formed in your eyes. You blinked rapidly, refusing to let the tears spill, but it was useless. The emotions were too strong anger, hurt, humiliation and they were all threatening to overwhelm you.

Onyankopon’s head tilted just slightly as he noticed, his brows furrowing for a brief second before smoothing out again. He didn’t say anything, didn’t make a move to comfort or provoke you further. Instead, his body remained still, except for his fingers, which lightly tapped against his forearm as if he were waiting for you to let it all out. The calmness in his posture only made you angrier. His steady breathing, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, was a stark contrast to the way your body shook with bottled-up rage and sadness. You could feel the tension radiating off him, though an energy that was barely contained beneath his cool exterior.

You stormed up to him, closing the space between you two until there were mere inches separating you. your voice came out sharp and controlled as you spat. “Nigga, I already said it you disrespectful as hell." Your hand shot up, jabbing your finger at his face, each point emphasizing your words.

Onyankopon didn’t flinch, but his jaw tensed, the muscles flexing visibly beneath his skin. His hands, previously crossed over his chest, fell to his sides as he let out a low, tired sigh. Slowly, he ran his fingers over his face, his palm dragging down from his forehead to his chin, as if trying to wipe away the tension.

“I understand,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. His eyes flickered back to yours, dark and serious. “And I apologize.” For a moment, you just stared at him, stunned by the words that came out his mouth. Then, out of nowhere, a sharp laugh escaped your lips, dry and humorless. You tilted your head back slightly as the bitter sound filled the room, your body radiating disbelief. "You're really sorry but you kept doing it?" you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, " and then you kept doing it, rubbing that shit in my face and standing up for her. You shook your head, a short, sharp movement as if trying to shake off the absurdity of his words.

“You done?” he asked quietly, upset that you laughed at his apology when he really meant it. His head tilted ever so slightly, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something more serious. You let out another laugh cause no you weren't done not even close. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” you snapped, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. You leaned forward slightly, glaring up at him. “You think you can just say ‘sorry’ and everything’s cool? Nah, Ony. You don’t get to play with my feelings and then act like it’s not a big deal.”

His gaze flicked down to where your arms were crossed, his eyes lingering on the way your body was tense, practically vibrating with anger. He took a slow, deep breath, his chest rising and falling in a measured way, as if trying to steady himself.“I ain’t playin’ with your feelings, though ma,” he said, his voice softer but with a hint of frustration. His hand moved to rub the back of his neck.“You think I don’t care about you? That’s crazy. You know better than that.”

“Do I?” you shot back, uncrossing your arms and stepping even closer to him your index finger pressing into his chest. His skin was warm under your touch.“Cause everything you’ve done tonight says otherwise.”Ony looked down at your finger, then back at you, his jaw tightening again. He let out a low chuckle, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You really think I don’t care?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave. He stepped forward, and suddenly, you were the one taking a step back.

“Say it,” his eyes locking onto yours, unblinking and intense. “Say I don’t care about you, and mean it.” You straightened your shoulders, tilting your chin up defiantly Your eyes locked onto his, “You don’t,” you said firmly, your voice steady and unwavering. There wasn’t a crack, not a hint of doubt

His smirk returned, but this time it was different, there was no amusement in the way he looked just frustration and slight confusion. “That’s cute,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned even closer, his face now inches from yours.“You can say it all you want,” Onyankopon continued, his voice deep and steady, “but we both know that ain’t the truth.” His eyes searched yours, looking for any change in emotions but you didn't give him one. “You’re mad, and you’ve got every right to be. But don’t act like you don’t know where I stand.”

You stayed silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even as your body tensed under the weight of his words. The air between you felt suffocating, heavy with unspoken emotions, but you held your ground, your eyes locked on his, daring him to push further. “You not gonna say anything, huh?”, his voice low and rough, like he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “That’s fine. I’ll talk. You think I don’t care? You think all that shit tonight was me just playin’? Nah. I know I fucked up, but don’t stand here and act like you don’t know what it is between us.”

Your jaw tightened, your hands balling into fists at your sides as you fought to maintain your composure. “What it is between us Ony?” you questioned, not feeling anything. “Ohhh, you mean the disrespect? The mind games? The way you show up, do whatever the hell you want, and think ‘sorry’ is enough to fix it?” Your voice was laced with scarsam tired of his shit.

His grip on his rings that he was playing with grew tighter,his lips pressing into a hard line as he absorbed your words. “I ain’t perfect,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “But don’t act like I don’t care about you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”You laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “Care about me?” you echoed, your voice rising. “If you cared, you wouldn’t have brought her here. If you cared, you wouldn’t have put me in that situation, making me look stupid while you sit there acting like it’s nothing.”

Ony’s eyes flickered with something guilt, maybe, or frustration but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned in even closer, your foreheads almost touching“You don’t look stupid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You could never look stupid. I look stupid. And yeah, I messed up. I know that. That shit was childish of me." He looked into your eyes for a sign of hope a sign that you would forgive him for the bullshit he did tonight but there was nothing, your face was still stone cold.

"Whatever,"You didn’t even spare him another glance as you turned around determined to put an end to this exhausting exchange. "Go get your girl," you spat outta bitterness. But before you could take another step, you felt his hand wrap firmly around your waist." That's what I'm trying to do." The grip wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. Heat radiated from his touch, rising up the thin fabric of your shirt.

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me,” you hissed, your footsteps halting abruptly. "Na, we not done talking," he shot back, his voice steady as his grip on your hip stayed the same. He now had your body pressed against the door frame. His body leaned forward slightly, closing the already small distance between you. “Words don’t mean shit, Ony,” you tried pushing him away from you but he couldn't budge. “Actions do. And your actions? Your actions are telling me everything I need to know.”

He exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the weight of it, his eyes scanned your face as if he were trying to remember every detail to memory. His gaze lingered on your eyes, your furrowed brows, the tight set of your lips each feature showing your frustration and anger.“Then let me show you,” he said, his voice low, steady, and laced with determination. There was no hesitation in his tone, no room for doubt he fully meant what he was saying right now.

His grip on your waist shifted slightly, his fingers pressing into the curve of your hips with just enough firmness to hold you in place. His thumbs moved in slow, soothing circles it was deliberate and purposeful trying to use his touch as a reminder. Your breath hitched, and his dark eyes caught a slight falter, the flicker of something other than anger breaking through your defenses. He noticed everything, and it annoyed you how easily he read you.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured, his voice dropping into a softer tone. “but I know you feel it, too.” His thumbs continued their slow path, soothing his gentle pressure drawing your attention back to him, back to the moment. Your hands hovered near your sides, unsure whether to push him away or hold him there He tilted his head slightly, his gaze searching yours for something unspoken, something he was determined to find.“Just... let me show you,” he repeated, his words even softer this time.

The two of you stood there with locked eyes the air between you thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. This one moment felt like an eternity, though it was only a matter of seconds your mind raaced with questions, your chest tightened as you tried to decipher his true intent. Could you trust him? Did he even deserve it? Meanwhile, his eyes softened slightly, but the intensity remained. It was as if he was silently pleading with you the rare vulnerability, hoping, praying you'd let down your guard once more just enough to let him in.

Then, before you could think to move or speak, Onyankopon made his decision. What he was about to do could either end with a stinging slap across his face or... something entirely different. Slowly he raised his fingers, giving you every chance to pull away if you desired. They slid underneath your chin his touch delicate, somewhat scared that you might pull away at any moment. He tilted your head upward, just slightly forcing you to look directly at him. His gaze felt so intense it made your knees feel wobbly.

Then before you could think or react, he leaned in his lips brushing against yours soft yet firm. The kiss was slow, tantalizing filled with an intensity that left you breathless. This kiss was deliberate as if he'd been waiting for this moment forever savoring every second of it.

The two of you slowly pulled away from the kiss, your breaths mingling as you lingered close, foreheads almost touching. His lips pecked against yours one last time softly, "You’re so annoying," a small laugh escaping as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your face. Onyankopon’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, his hand still resting on your waist, his thumb gripping the fabric of your shirt. "I know, mama," he replied, his voice low and teasing, with just the slightest edge of affection. "I know."

The two of you made your way upstairs to your bedroom, the tension increasing with every second he couldn't keep his hands off you. Once inside, Onyankopon gently laid you down on the bed, your body sinking into the soft embrace of the mattress. He hovered over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light from the room. His body settled between your legs, the heat radiating off him and seeping into you. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer, your ankles locking behind him. His hands gripped the sides of your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

Lowering himself, he leaned in and placed a series of light kisses along your neck, his lips moving slowly, each one more purposeful than the last. He adjusted his grip on your thighs, sliding his hands up toward your hips before gripping firmly again. His lips parted, and you felt his lips sucking your skin. You let out a quiet hum at the action he lingered your neck in small kisses until he got to that one spot behind your ear that drove you crazy. "I'm sorry baby, I really am." His hands went underneath the shirt you had on gripping your breast, his fingers squeezing and tugging at your nipples.

"Ony, pleaseee," you whined, impatiently as your lips curved into a small pout. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you in frustration, your body tense and eager. You were tired of all the teasing, the deliberate slowness of his movements. After what he did to you tonight he shouldn't have been moving this slow. His hands were firm yet gentle as they trailed up your thighs, just barely hovering over that spot you wanted him to touch so badly,"You forgive me?" his thumbs were brushing your sensitive skin with ease.

Your jaw clenched slightly at his question, the audacity of it clear in the slight raise of your brow. Absolutely not, you thought, but instead of saying anything, you pressed your lips together and stayed silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. He smirked at your lack of response, leaning back slightly. His hands moved to the waistband of your skirt, his fingers hooking under the fabric." damn it's like that?" He smirked at your lack of response, leaning back slightly. His hands moved to the waistband of your skirt, his fingers hooking under the fabric. Without breaking eye contact, he began to tug them down, his movements slow and agonizingly deliberate. The soft fabric dragged over your hips, the friction against your skin making your breath hitch.

He paused for a moment, his hands still gripping the material just above your knees, his eyes flicking back up to your face gauging your reaction. His lips curved into a subtle grin when he noticed the way your chest rose and fell, your body betraying the calm expression you tried to maintain. Ony continued pulling, the skirt slipping down your legs inch by inch, his fingertips grazing your skin as he went. Every movement felt intentional and slowed the air around you thick with tension. When he finally slid the fabric past your ankles, he tossed them aside without a second thought.

Onyankopon's large hands gripped your thighs firmly, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin as he moved upward with agonizing slowness. His fingers hovered just over the damp fabric of your panties, his touch light but deliberate, sending a jolt of pleasure through you as he pressed down ever so slightly onto your clit. “Gotchu real quiet now,”His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched your body react to him. A soft moan escaped your lips, betraying how much his touch affected you, and you arched your hips instinctively, seeking more pressure. Onyankopon chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he leaned in, placing a gentle kiss just below your belly button.

His lips trailed downward, planting slow, deliberate kisses from the center of your stomach to the edge of your panties, just above your clit. After every kiss mumbling some incoherent nonsense you didn't care about. “Ony, stop teasinggg,” you dragged out, your voice carrying both frustration and need.

He got on his knees his hands tightened slightly on your thighs, holding you in place as his lips hovered over the damp fabric, his warm breath fanning against you. “Stop teasing?” he repeated mockingly, raising an eyebrow as his lips brushed lightly over the cloth. " maybe if you say you forgive me I will." You bit your lip, your frustration growing as his fingers traced the outline of your panties, just barely touching you. His lips pressed softly against the fabric again, adding to the building tension. "I can't, not yet."

His lips brushed against the damp fabric again, this time more intentionally, lingering just a little longer, the sensation sending a pulse of need throughout your body. Your body twitched waiting for him to hurry up.He glanced up at you through hooded eyes, watching every twitch, every shift in your expression. “You’re stubborn as hell, you know that?” as his fingers finally slid just beneath the edge of the fabric. The slight shift of his touch against your skin made your hips jerk involuntarily, but he held you steady, smirking at your reaction

His other hand slid up, fingers laying across your lower stomach to hold you in place as his thumb lazily traced circles over the edge of your thigh. The friction was just enough to make you desperate for more but not nearly enough to satisfy.

.“You’re not gonna make this easy for me, are you, mama?” he teased, his lips curving into that same smug smile that always made your blood boil—and your body betray you.He pressed another kiss, this time just below the fabric, his breath hot and tantalizing. "You can keep playing hard to get, but we both know where this is going."

"Your such a egotistical bas-" You tried to hard to tell him to fuck off but the way he's hands and mouth were working in tandem had your words caught in your throat as he took a long stripe from the bottom of your panties to the top of your clit

"Still not ready to forgive me?" he asked softly, his voice dripping with mock innocence. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as if they’d somehow ground you. Your body was betraying you, reacting to every deliberate touch, every teasing flick of his tongue, every warm breath he exhaled against you."Not yet." you let out an airy breath, your voice barely audible but firm.

Onyankopon  chuckled again, this time lower, more satisfied."I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder then,"His grip on your thighs tightened again, pulling you just slightly closer to the edge of the bed, aligning himself perfectly between your legs. His lips pressed firmly against the center of the fabric this time, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp, your hips bucking slightly against his hold.

"Careful," he said, smirking as he held you firmly in place. "Wouldn’t want you to give yourself away."Your breathing was uneven, your chest rising and falling with every teasing motion he made. His tongue darted out, pressing against the damp spot, adding to the already unbearable heat pooling in your stomach. You bit your lip hard, refusing to let the moan threatening to escape win.

"Still not forgiving me?" he asked, his tone smug and confident. He kissed the fabric again, this time harder, the pressure sending a jolt through your body. "Guess I’ll have to keep apologizing then."

You were about to give in soon you don't think he should be forgiven just yet but you just wanted to cum and he barely even touched you. Your fingers gripped the sheets tighter as Onyankopon's actions continued, his lips and tongue tormenting you through the thin fabric of your panties. He seemed to take his time, savoring every reaction he pulled from you, every slight shift of your body, and every ragged breath you couldn’t contain. His hands held your thighs firmly, thumbs kneading gently against your skin like he was trying to keep you grounded.

When you didn’t respond to his last taunt, he chuckled, low and husky, the sound reverberating against you. "Silent treatment now?" he teased, sliding his fingers along the waistband of your panties again. He tugged on them just enough to make you squirm, his lips brushing the exposed skin right above them.

"You're only making this harder for yourself, mama," he murmured against your skin, his voice smooth. Your body betrayed you again, a soft whimper slipping out despite your best efforts to stay composed. He caught it, of course, his smirk widening as he looked up at you, his dark eyes glittering with satisfaction. "There she is."

Without breaking eye contact, he slowly began to pull your panties down, his movements unhurried, deliberate, as if he wanted to draw out every second of your anticipation. His lips followed the path of the fabric, planting soft kisses along your thighs as he worked the material lower.

By the time your panties were halfway down, his hands returned to your thighs, spreading them just slightly wider. He tilted his head, his lips pressing another kiss against your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make you gasp.

“Say the words, and I’ll stop,” he said, his voice quieter now, softer, as if daring you to push him away. But the way his hands moved, the way his lips lingered on your skin, it was clear he wasn’t in a rush for you to decide.

You gave up the act, the walls you had built crumbling under the weight of his persistence and your own longing. It was useless to keep fighting a battle you were never going to win, he had you cornered emotionally and physically, and deep down, you knew you couldn’t hold out any longer. Your breath hitched as the tension in the room seemed to thicken, the silence growing heavier by the second. Finally, reluctantly you said what he'd been waiting to hear." I forgive you Ony."

It was as if a switch flipped inside him. The change was instant, his entire demeanor shifting from restrained patience to hunger. He didn’t waste a single moment. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his wet warm tongue gliding against your slit. The sensation was overwhelming your brain already feeling scrambled, but what really caught you off guard was the unexpected pressure of metal. You’d completely forgotten about his tongue piercing. It hadn’t been in earlier tonight, you were sure of it, and you had no idea when he’d decided to put it back in.

Your mouth parted, a soft moan escaping before you could stop it. The metal ball traced slow, tantalizing circles around your clit, the contrast between the cool steel and the heat of his tongue making your body tremble. " Fuckkk~" the sensations so overwhelming you felt your eyes shut tightly and your fist ball up.

“Say it one more time,” he demanded, his voice deep and commanding, But before you even got a chance to respond he quickly slid his pointer finger into you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “Ahh~” The sound escaped your lips as your back arched involuntarily up off the bed, the sounds of nothing but your wetness filling the air.

Your legs instinctively tried to close around his face, an attempt to contain the overwhelming sensation, but he wasn’t having it. His free hand moved with quick speed, gripping your thigh firmly and forcing your legs apart again. “Don't that shit,” The dominance in his deep voice only made the heat pooling in your core intensify.

The way he handled you, the way he spoke it was impossible to resist. Your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breathing, but it was no use. The way his finger curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot, and the intensity of all these things were driving you insane.

“Please, baby,” he said, his voice softening unexpectedly going from demanding to pleading he lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening with evidence of his work. “Say it again.” His fingers worked you with deliberate precision, his thumb brushing over your most sensitive spot in a way that made your toes curl. His lips hovered just above your skin, his breath warm and teasing as he waited for the words he so desperately wanted to hear." I forgive you Ony fuck." You had tears forming in the corner of your eyes from the pleasurable sensations.

His fingers thrust in and out of you with a steady rhythm, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He could feel your walls clamping down around him “So fucking wet,” he muffled into your cunt and your breath hitched, your voice shaky as you moaned. The sensation of his pierced tongue pressing firmly against your clit was driving you insane.

“It’s too muchhh~,” you cooed, your voice trembling as your body began to tense up under the relentless assault of his mouth and fingers. His tongue swirled around your clit the cool metal of the barbell rubbing and teasing your most sensitive spot in ways that left you breathless. Your back arched off the bed, your hips lifting trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, but there was no relief to be found—not that you wanted any. He was everywhere, his fingers plunging deeper as he added another, the stretch intensifying the pleasure to a point that made your toes curl.

The tingling spread throughout your body your nerves alight with sensation as you gripped the sheets beneath you. “Onyyy,” you whined, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. The combination of his fingers curling inside you and his tongue sucking gently on your clit was too much yet you began grinding against his face wanting to feel more He didn’t stop his hands only holding you steady as his mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony. You were so close that tight coil in your stomach could snap at any moment. "You're doing so good for me mama."

Your thighs trembled uncontrollably as the sensations built, the pressure in your core growing unbearable. Every thrust of his fingers, every flick and suck of his tongue sent waves of pleasure rippling through you. The cool metal of his tongue piercing seemed to amplify everything, its smooth surface gliding over your clit with a precision that left you gasping for air.

“Onyyy, please,” you whimpered, your voice breaking as you struggled to form coherent words. Your hands flew to his head, fingers tangling in his hair in a futile attempt to ground yourself. But even as you tugged gently, your body betrayed your need, rolling your hips against his face with increasing desperation.

He groaned low in his throat, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure straight to your core."Breathe baby." he murmured between licks his deep voice rumbling against your sensitive flesh. Your body was on fire, every nerve in your body growing sensitive, Your back arched higher, your chest rising as a broken moan tore from your lips. “I-I can’t” you gasped, the words catching in your throat as the tingling sensation spread through your entire body, consuming you.

“You can,” As if to prove his point, his fingers sped up slightly, curling with even more precision, while his tongue flicked faster over your clit. The combination sent you spiraling, your body tightening as the pressure reached its peak, your eyes rolled back, toes curled, fist bawled up. With a loud cry, your body gave in, shuddering violently as the release hit you. " Fuckkk~" you gasped for air but even as you came undone beneath him, he didn’t stop, his movements slowing but never faltering.

Your body was still trembling from the first release, you soon realized he wasn’t stopping. Onyankopon’s fingers kept their relentless pace, pumping in and out of you with precision, his tongue never leaving your clit. The overstimulation hit you immediately, pulling a broken whimper from your lips. “Onyyy, wait, I—ahh!” Your plea was cut off as his piercing dragged over your clit again, the metal cool against your overheated skin. Your thighs twitched, your hips trying to pull away, but his hands gripped you firmly, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

"Stop tryna run," he groaned The sound sent a shiver through your already over-sensitive body, and you felt your walls fluttering around his fingers. “Please,” you whimpered, though you weren’t sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going. He chuckled darkly against you, the vibration against your clit making your body jolt. " Just give me one more." His fingers curled inside you, pressing against that perfect spot that made your back arch off the bed again. His tongue worked in tandem, flicking and sucking swirling around your clit, he was driving you insane you didn't know much more you could take.

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps, your body writhing beneath him. The overstimulation blurred into another wave of pleasure, the intensity doubling as your body began to climb toward another peak.“Onyyy,” you cried out, your voice shaky and high-pitched, your hands gripping the sheets tightly You could feel the intense pressure building again faster and stronger than before the pressure in your core coiling tighter and tighter.

He didn’t let up for a second determined to pull you over the edge again. “Let go,” he murmured against you, his voice a deep rumble that sent a shiver through you. His words were all it took. Your second climax washed over you harder and stronger than the first your body convulsing as you let out a loud, broken moan. Your vision blurred, your mind going blank as the overwhelming pleasure consumed you completely. He groaned in satisfaction, holding you steady as your body trembled uncontrollably beneath him. Even as the aftershocks coursed through you, his tongue slowed but didn’t stop, lazily drawing out every last bit of sensation making sure to not leave any small drop anywhere but his mouth. You were completely worn out already, your chest wavering as you tried to catch your breath, your body limp and trembling in his hands.

"You're evil," your voice shaky and hoarse as you tried to regain your breath. Onyankopon let out a breathy chuckle, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and need, His lips were slightly swollen, and his skin glistened in the dim lighting with sweat and your release. He looked utterly wrecked, yet still completely in control, a man who knew exactly what he was doing to you. “You can handle it,” he stated simply.

Before you could catch even a moment's breath the metallic click of his belt buckle echoed in the air, Your eyes widened as you watched him, every movement slow and calculated, giving you just enough time to anticipate what was coming. He pulled the belt free, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud, his hands already working to free himself. “Ony, wait,” you started to say, but your words faltered as he leaned forward, his hands gripping your hips with a firm but gentle hold.

Your body was still trembling, sensitive and overstimulated, but that didn’t seem to faze him. He stroked his length once, twice, and your breath hitched as you took in the sight of him. The raw intensity in his gaze made your stomach flip, heat pooling low in your abdomen despite your exhaustion." I know you can take it, baby."

He pressed the swollen head of his length against your entrance, the warmth of him making you gasp. Your body was still slick, your sensitivity making every sensation sharper, more overwhelming. He didn’t rush, though. Instead, he moved with deliberate slowness sliding the tip of his head up and down your slick slit, the friction igniting every nerve throughout your body. "onyyyy" The smooth glide of his skin against yours had your body reacting in ways you couldn’t control—your hips twitching, your thighs trembling, your breath hitching with every deliberate motion.

"what baby?" He asked his voice so carefree as if he wasn't torturing you right now. The weight of his gaze on you was almost as intense as the sensations he was creating. He kept his movements slow, dragging the head of his cock over your clit in a way that made your back arch off the bed. The swollen tip pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves just long enough to have you gasping before he slid it back down, teasing your entrance but never fully pushing in.

"Put it in, please." Your thighs quivered, and your hips moved on their own trying to angle yourself to take him in, but he held you in place, his grip firm as his hands rested on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin in a way that grounded you. "Patience." He continued his torturous teasing, the head of his length sliding just barely inside before pulling back out, leaving you aching and desperate.

Your hands flew to his forearms, nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself, the teasing becoming too much. Your breaths came in short, shallow pants, your chest rising and falling as he dragged the tip of his cock over your entrance one last time before finally pausing, the heat of him pressed firmly against you.

He finally pushed into you his thick length pressing into your entrance at a slow agonizing pace, his cock stretched you out immediately, your walls squeezing against him as he sank deeper inch, by inch filling you up completely. "ahh" a choked gasp escaped your lips, your body tensing at the overwhelming sensations of his stretching you out. "Relax mama" ony mumbled against your skin, his lips brushed against your collarbone, placing soft kisses against your neck as he continued to ease himself into you.

His large hands gripped your waist firmly his thumb stroking small circles around your skin to try to relax you, A deep, soft groan rumbled from his chest, the sound vibrating through you, making your body quiver in response. His head dipped lower, and his forehead came to rest against your shoulder " You know I love you right?" Something about the way he said it raw made your stomach flip. It wasn’t just the words, though. It was the way he looked at you, his gaze, the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go. You could tell he was about to go ham on your insides.

“Ony,” you said flatly, your voice deadpan as you tried to maintain composure. You turned your head just enough to look at him, catching the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours, and he repeated himself, his voice softer this time. “You know I love you, right?” You replied, your tone a mix of anticipation"Yea."

Without hesitation, Onyankopon hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs to hold you firmly in place. The shift in position lifted your hips slightly off the bed, angling your body just enough for him to delve even deeper. The stretch was immediate and intense, making your breath hitch as the new angle allowed him to hit spots that had you seeing stars.

He wasted no time, thrusting into you with relentless precision, each stroke was so deep. His hips snapped forward with a steady rhythm, his cock dragging along your walls with a mix of pleasure and pressure that left you gasping. each one hitting a spot inside you that made your toes curl. The force of his thrusts had your body shifting up the bed. The slick sound of your body meeting filled the room, “Fuck,” his voice hoarse, his grip tightening as he picked up his pace. “You’re taking me so well, mama.”

“Ahh—Ony!” you cried out, your voice shaky and high-pitched as you felt the intensity of his pace. Your walls clenched around him tightly, desperate to hold onto him, Your head pressed back into the pillows, your hands clawing at the sheets as you tried to hold on, but the intensity was too much. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the room, mixed with your moans and his low grunts. Your hands flew to his arms, clutching onto his biceps as you tried to steady yourself, but the overwhelming pleasure made it impossible to hold still. “Hah—o-please!” you whimpered, your voice breaking as his cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you.

“Please what, baby?” he rasped, His eyes never left your face, watching every expression, every gasp, every moan that spilled from your lips. His thumb traced over your skin briefly before he grabbed your hips harder, pulling you down onto him with each thrust. Your entire body trembled, your legs quivering over his shoulders as he leaned in slightly, pressing you further into the mattress. The new depth made you cry out, your hands gripping at his arms desperately as your body writhed beneath him. “Onyyy—I can’t!” you managed to choke out, though your body betrayed you, hips bucking up to meet his every thrust.

And as if the overwhelming sensations weren’t enough, Onyankopon’s thumb dropped down to your swollen clit pressing firmly against the swollen bud rubbing slow, deliberate circles your whole body jerked. A pornographic moan tore from your lips, the combination of his relentless thrusts and the added stimulation pushing you to the brink. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers clutching at the sheets “Oh—Onyyy!” you wailed, your voice trembling as your hips bucked involuntarily, trying to escape the intensity.

"Don't fucking do that shit." he didn’t slow down, his thumb continuing its maddening rhythm, rubbing over your clit with just the right amount of pressure to have your toes curling. Your thighs trembled against his shoulders, your body completely at his mercy as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “Onyyy—I c-can’t!” you stammered, your voice breaking as your walls clenched down on him tightly, trying to pull him even deeper.“You can take it,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding, his thumb applying just a little more pressure as he sped up the circles on your clit. he watched every twitch, every gasp, every helpless moan that spilled from your lips. “You’re gonna take it, mama. All of it.”

The intensity was unbearable, your back arched off the bed every nerve in your body was on fire as his cock continued to hit that perfect spot inside you, and his thumb worked your clit with precision. Your body shook uncontrollably as the sensations built higher and higher, your vision blurred, your breaths coming in ragged pants as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your abdomen, ready to snap at any second.

"I'm close so ony" you whimpered, your voice trembling as your walls fluttered and clenched around him tightly. He groaned low in his throat, the sensation almost enough to break his own self-control. The way you gripped him was insane pulling him deeper, tighter but nonetheless, he was always gonna make you cum before him. “C’mon, mama. Let it go for me.” His hips kept their steady, deliberate rhythm, plunging into you with precision, each thrust dragging against that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a string of broken moans spilling from your lips as the pressure built higher and higher. The way his cock dragged against your walls, the firm strokes of his thumb, the weight of his body pressed against yours—it was all too much, the pleasure mounting to an unbearable peak. “I’m not stopping until you give it to me.” The sound of his voice, the commanding yet tender tone, pushed you over the edge. Your back arched violently off the bed, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body clenched around him, trembling as you rode out the intense high, every nerve ending alight with sensation. "That's it, baby. Good job."

Onyankopon didn’t stop, his relentless thrusts driving you further into the mattress as he chased his own release. The air around you was heavy with the sound of his heavy breathing, your cries of pleasure, and the wet, slap of skin against skin. His movements became slightly erratic, sloppy even as he was teetering on the edge of his climax, yet he still maintained enough control to make sure you felt every stroke. “Where you want it, mama?” his voice sounded strained even though he tired not to.

You were completely undone, your body trembling beneath him, your mind fogged with pleasure. Despite how fucked out you felt, you managed to muster enough strength to respond. “In me, please,” you gasped, your voice breaking into a desperate cry. “Fuck,” he groaned, his hips snapping harder against yours as his restraint began to unravel. He shifted slightly, angling his hips just right so that every thrust hit that sensitive spot deep inside you, making you shudder and cling to him even tighter.

“You sure, baby?” he asked, his tone softer now as if giving you one last chance to change your mind. Your legs locked around him pulling him in even closer. “Please, Ony,” you whimpered That was all he needed. His grip on your hips tightened, his pace quickening as he chased his high. Each thrust was deliberate, powerful, driving into you with a force that left you breathless. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes squeezing shut as he finally let go, spilling into you with a deep, throaty groan." fuck baby." a quiet moan slipped outta his mouth making you wanna cum right there.

You felt the warmth of him fill you, the sensation pushing you to the edge one more time. Your body clenched around him instinctively, milking him for everything he had as you cried out, your own release blending with his. He collapsed onto you, his weight comforting rather than overwhelming as his breaths came out ragged and uneven.

Ony’s strong hand wrapped firmly around your neck bringing you closer until your lips met his in a heated kiss. You tasted your fluids that lingered on his lips His pierced tongue traced a slow, teasing line across your lips, the cool metal adding a tantalizing contrast to the warmth of his touch. As your mouth parted and his tongue pressed against yours, his fingers squeezed your neck slightly his head tilting slightly to deepen the kiss before he pulled away. “You forgive me for real mama?” he murmured against your lips, his voice having genuine sincerity in them, as he held you close.

" Yes Ony I forgive you for real."

[i2sunric]

LOVE IS (NOT) EASY (l.hs)

summary: there was nothing you hated more than the smell of cigarettes and smokers. always acting as if they were above anything else. but just like persephone learnt how to love hades, then why couldn’t you learn how to love heeseung?

warnings: fingering, rough sex, chocking, gagging, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), blowjob, squirting, heeseung is toxic, heeseung smokes, reader hates cigarettes, situationship with benefits?, doggy, missionary, dirty talk, pet names (babe, baby, slut), lmk if more. (strangely) proofread.

published: 9th May 2024

wc: 3.5k

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns (one shot) @slut4hee @ineedsomezzz @deobitifull @smisworld @mitmit01 @the-poetic-side-of-me @cha0thicpisces @heeseungsbitvh

Blasting music, almost at a deafening volume, blinding lights and the mixed smell of sweat and alcohol. That was how your birthday party was going on, all your friends and friends of friends filling the room, making the air heavy.

You kept smiling and greeting people you hadn’t even invited, accepting kind birthday wishes. You were in desperate need of fresh air but you were also trying to find Lee Heeseung.

Your relationship was rather complicated, if you had to be honest. You weren’t a couple, because Heeseung made it clear from the first day you met that he couldn’t afford love. But you also weren’t just nothing.

Whatever it was, he was supposed to show up at your birthday party— well, he actually did, he greeted you with the most false smile you could’ve ever see and then disappeared in thin air.

You knew he hated social gatherings, especially if it was with people outside his corrupted and not so safe group of friends, but you thought he’d at least celebrate with you.

You stumbled on your heels, making your way through the crowd until you finally reached the entrance of the room you rented and went outside.

The cold air hit your barely covered skin, the thin and tight dress you chose as an outfit doing nothing to cover you from the chilly weather.

It was when you focused on your surroundings that you noticed a pair of familiar broad shoulders covered in utterly familiar leather jacket.

You walked beside him and frowned when you noticed he was yet again smoking a cigarette, the bitter smell of it tickling your nostrils “Seriously?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes and took another long drag from his cigarette, "You look good tonight, babe."

You let out a small sigh, looking at him with a sharp stare. Heeseung wasn’t one to do things out of kindness, he was selfish and only did what he could to take advantage himself. You just hoped he’d listen to you once— But again, hope was not on your side. when it came to him.

“You promised you wouldn’t smoke today.” You stated, reminding him of your previous conversation.

He let out a groan, "You're impossible to make happy." He put out the cigarette and threw it on the ground, stepping on it, "There. You happy now?" He raised an eyebrow.

It wasn’t very nice to just throw the cigarette on the ground and leave it there, but you weren’t going to complain since his lungs would have less smoke in them.

“Come on, Hee.” You stepped in front of him, your height difference was clear that way “It’s my birthday, you said it was my gift.”

Heeseung let out another groan, "Don't pull that card on me. it doesn't work anymore." He mumbled and pulled you closer by the waist, "I didn't want to be here in the first place. We could have celebrated it alone and had a lot more fun together."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your figures melting together “But I wanted to celebrate it with my friends too.”

"Well, I am better than them—“ He raised a brow, “They can’t satisfy you the way I do.”

Heeseung leaned down to kiss you, his tongue licking your bottom lip. He pulled away, "Don't forget it" He whispered on your lips but it came off as threatening.

“Oh, so now you’re better than them?” You asked, teasing him as you pulled your face away from his.

He pulled you back, his hand gripping onto your chin tightly, "I’ve always been. Who else would put up with your attitude?" He said with a cocky smirk.

You sighed, shaking your head “What attitude?” You mumbled, slightly offended.

Heeseung pulled harder on your chin so you looked up at him, "Look at you right now, always trying to make me mad." His voice was husky, sending shivers down your spine.

“But you like it?” You asked, your quiet voice going straight to his cock— however he couldn’t just steal you away from your party, could he?

Heeseung had a thing for toying with you, confusing you, leaving you just to claim you all over again. Cause no matter how much you acted like you hated him, you knew there was no going back from his game.

His fingers trailed down from your chin to your neck, squeezing the sides slightly, "You don’t know a damn thing abou what I like." He mumbled and leaned down to kiss you again.

He pulled away before you had the chance to respond, "Go inside. I’ll join you in a minute" He demanded.

You pointed a finger at his chest, wanting to sound threatening “No more cigs.”

Heeseung grabbed your hand and kissed it, "You know I can't make promises I don't intend to keep" He squeezed your hand.

"I'll see you inside" he smirked and walked away before you could give him another response.

“Heeseung!” You shouted, watching as he walked away. He didn’t even turn around, he just waved one of his hands and disappeared in the middle of the night; just like he always did.

You groaned, frustrated with him, but most of all with yourself, for always letting him lead you on. You just went back to your birthday party, now feeling ever worse than you were before.

You took a deep breath before entering the room, the smell of alcohol replacing the bitter one of cigarettes and Heeseung’s wood cologne.

You tried to enjoy your night but you couldn’t really, your mind always drifting to the bane of your existence who wore an under-washed leather jacket and always had a cigarette between his lips.

⟡

So called devil had the audacity to show his face again when you were already at home, after fixing all the mess your guests had made— which was huge and took you the whole night. Birds chirped outside, signalling it was already early morning and you couldn’t wait to just fall asleep in your bed.

You heard the overly familiar sound of your bedroom window opening and closing right away, signalling the presence of a new person inside your apartment.

You had just removed your heels and stood in the middle of the room, in front of Heeseung’s tall figure. His demeanour was a little more dishevelled and messy than it had been a few hours before; but you could still smell the odour of cigarettes on him. He saw the unamused look on your face and smirked before walking closer to you.

Heeseung grabbed your waist and kissed you, "Stop sulking." He mumbled against your lips.

You pushed his chest, obviously not doing any damage to him “Let go.” You said sternly.

He pushed you slightly against the wall, trapping you and leaning closer, "Stop acting like this. You're mad at me all the time. I’m sick and tired of coming home to a pissed off Y/N." He said and kissed you again, more roughly.

You kissed him back with the same passion, your lips crashing together, tongues intertwining.

“Stop making me mad, then.” You mumbled, your fingers grasping his dark hair.

"Everything I do makes you mad." Heeseung murmured and kissed all over your neck, biting down occasionally to leave marks, claiming you, “You’re never satisfied.”

You blindly removed his jacket and let it fall on the ground with a small thud. You clumsily tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, “Cause you never listen.”

Heeseung pushed off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, "Stop picking fights with me, then." He mumbled, his lips trailing down from your neck to your chest as your palms wandered around his bare torso.

You let out head fall back on the wall, the rough touch of his lips on your skin sending butterflies in your stomach “Can’t.” You answered.

He gripped onto your thighs and lifted you up, making you straddle him. He moved your face to look at him, "Look at me."

You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself from falling and looked into his eyes as he demanded.

His pupils were dilated from the tobacco and probably some other things you were too afraid to ask; still, they were beautiful.

Heeseung leaned forward to kiss you again, biting down on your bottom lip, both of you moaning when you tasted blood "Say my name." He mumbled against your lips.

“Heeseung,” You breathed out, moving your hips on the evident bulge you felt underneath your clothed core.

Heeseung carried you to the bed, laying you down underneath him, his lips still on yours, "Tell who you belong to.” His voice became almost commanding.

His figure hovered on yours, like a shadow covering all the light from your life— you were almost hypnotised by his deadly beauty “You, Hee.”

Heeseung lifted up your dress over your hips and looked up at you with a smirk, "That’s what I thought." He mumbled and left kisses along the lace of your underwear.

You let out a soft hum as his plump lips trailed kisses on your sensitive and burning skin. Your hand went against to grasp the back of his head, “I’m still m-mad at you.”

Your voice intended to sound threatening but it only came out as shaky and weak.

Heeseung pulled off your underwear and tossed it to the side, going back to leaving bite marks on your inner thighs, "Show me how mad you are, baby.” He mumbled against your skin, sending vibrations through your whole body.

He left a few bites in the same spots, marking them as his before he reached up and held your jaw, "Don’t pull me away." He said and leaned down to kiss you once again.

As easy as said if it wasn’t for his fingers that snuck to inside of you without you even realising until he started curling them to brush against your sensitive spot.

You gasped for air, but when you did he stopped moving his fingers. You knew he wanted to tease, drive you insane and make you beg— But who were you to disobey?

Heeseung held your chin in his grasp “Don’t fucking pull away.” He demanded again and pulled you into a make out session.

His fingers brushed against your gummy walls, at full speed without even leaving you time to adjust to the new intrusion.

Your mouth fell agape at the funny sensation building inside you and Heeseung took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, moaning lowly when it met yours.

He reached down to unzip his jeans, "Can’t wait to make you forget all of the things I did." He mumbled against your lips.

Heeseung was quick to discard his jeans on the floor, somewhere unknown.

He leaned back, sitting on his knees. He grabbed your waist and positioned you in front of him, "You look so pretty like this, Y/N" He mumbled, staring down at you in only your bra and dress on top of your thighs.

You glanced back at him, your eyes hooded and full of lust. He removed his fingers from inside of you and he smirked at the sight of your face,

"You can't hide how bad you want me…” His hand trailing up your thighs and over your hips before reaching up to undo your bra.

He wrapped your underwear around your mouth, forcing you to keep silent and allowing him to use you the way he wanted.

Heeseung leaned down and looked at you, "Be quiet and pretty like you were made for.”

You let out a hum that felt more like a whimper, your slick pooling your thighs. Heeseung smirked satisfactorily and put two fingers back inside of you, rubbing your g-spot that he knew so well, making you muffle moan.

You tried to grip his arm when you felt the same funny sensation building inside your stomach but Heeseung never haltered his movements until you squirted all over the sheets and his abdomen.

Your body shook with overstimulation when his fingers kept thrusting inside your pussy, Heeseung cooed “Already? We haven’t even started.”

You shook your head, your eyes squeezing, whimpers leaving your mouths as if to beg him to stop.

Heeseung took your chin in his hands, his fingers digging inside your cheeks. He raised a brow and removed your bra from your mouth, throwing it to the side “Need that warm mouth around my cock, mh?”

With you still laying underneath him, he crawled until his clothed bulge was hovering on your face. You quickly complied and lowered his boxers, palming his hard tip, already leaking precum.

Heeseung wasted no time and fisted your hair, taking control of your head “Open your mouth.” He demanded and again, you gave him what he wanted.

As soon as you opened your mouth he bucked his hips, making you gag on his thick length.

Your gags only made him want to hear more, so he kept thrusting his hips, hitting the back of your throat “Fuck, feels so good.”

The warmth of your mouth hugging his cock and the drool dripping down your chin almost made him cum right away, so he had to slow down, making slow but deep thrusts.

You held his hips and started bobbing your head, hooling your cheeks, Heeseung chuckled at your devotion “Such a good girl for me, trained you to please me so well.”

You hummed, his cock vibrating in your mouth, making his head fall back.

He let go of your hair and thrusted a few more times, just enough to make you gag again before pulling out. You let out a deep breath, your whole chin and chest coated with drool.

He glanced down at you, looking just like the erotic dreams he had when he was a teenager, all messed up by him.

Heeseung bent down to kiss you, pulling you into a quick make out session. He then quickly discarded his boxers as well and moved back between your legs, spreading your thighs apart.

The cold air hitting your pussy made you clench around nothing “Oh baby, I’ll ruin you so bad.” He mumbled, licking a long strip from your wet pussy.

“Heeseung,” You gasped out, “Please.”

He shook his head “What did we say about words? You need to use them, come on, be a good girl and say what you want.”

“Please Hee…” You whined when his fingers brushed against your clit “Fuck me, Fuck me hard.”

Heeseung bit down his bottom lip and let out a mocking scowl “This slut can’t think without a cock to stretch her out?” He caressed your cheek, ever so tenderly before grasping your face, “You remember the safe word?”

Even in your hazy state you managed to nod, Heeseung’s eyes were dead serious. Despite his twisted desires, he would never accidentally hurt you during sex, or worse.

“Good, because I won’t hold back.” And with that, he wetted his shaft with your juices, pumping it a few times before entering you with a deep thrust.

You swallowed him whole as he bottomed out already, grasping the sheets underneath you at the sudden stretch, so good yet so painful.

You let out a small whimper, “Shh,” He cooed, fisting your hair to raise your head, making you look at where your bodies connected “Watch me stretch this pussy out.”

His thick length moved back and forth, appearing just to disappear back into you, the shadow of his bulge showing on your stomach, making both of you moan.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me.” Heeseung breathed out, letting go of your hair to cup your breasts, squeezing them.

His fingers played with your nipples, making you clench around him, your walls squeezing back around his cock.

“So sensitive?” He scowled, bending down to lick your tits as his thrusts reached a delicious rhythm, not too slow but not also too hard.

His scent mixing with sweat and your own sheets’ one was enough to drive you insane, your thoughts getting cloudy and you dropped your head back on the mattress.

Heeseung raised himself up and looked at your body, laid down so pretty underneath him. His gaze went to the dress still around your hips, “Wearing that dress at a party, you knew you’d make me mad, right?”

You shook your head, not even having the slightest energy to speak with the way his cock kept hitting your cervix, his movements becoming even more intense “All those men at the party were eye fucking you,” He groaned at his own statement, his eyes so dark, “Wanted to claim you, take you right there on the fucking gift table,” He slapped your breast “Showing them who you belong to.”

Your eyes were half lidded as you tried to open them “Only w-want you.” You replied, another moan escaping you with one particular deep thrust.

“You better,” His fingers trailed your jawline, his touch tender unlike what you were doing “Only I can fuck you like you want, treat you right, mh?”

You nodded again at his words, your hands grasping his shoulders to keep yourself steady “And you don’t want to know what’d happen if you ever let another man look in your direction.”

He tilted his head back gritting his teeth with a hiss. Your gaze was now on him as he stared back down at you with lustful satisfaction “You’re mine.”

The same sweet feeling built inside your stomach, making your eyes squeeze “Heeseung,” You breathed out.

“Want to cum?” He tsked, one hand going down to your clit to rub it as the other held your leg on his shoulder, “Cum, yes.” You managed to mumble.

Heeseung’s thrusts got deeper, faster, almost maniacally as you fell apart under him, your cum coating his dick.

You’d think he would at least slow his movements, helping you ride out of your orgasm but it was Heeseung you were talking about, and he kept rutting inside you, gripping your hips to help himself.

You tried to make him stop, weakly pushing his chest away. He took your wrists, yanking them away from his chest and holding them on the mattress, pinning you down “Fucking take what I give you.”

You were a whimpering mess, overstimulation making your body quiver underneath him, if it wasn’t for his strong grip you’d be all around the bed “Hee…” You managed to breathe out.

“Sh,” Heseeung ordered, letting go of your wrists to wrap one hand around your neck, squeezing it. The loss of oxygen made your eyes roll back, laying there for him to use, to own.

After a while, he got bored of missionary so he let go of your neck and turned you around, your ass up.

He spanked it, making you moan out at the pain. He inserted himself inside you again and gripped your hips, rutting his cock.

“T-too much.” You cried out, biting down the sheets, the pleasure being too much for your body.

“It’s not.” Heeseung said back, spanking your ass again before reaching for your head, holding it down on the mattress. The position was uncomfortable and you’d surely wake up with a sore neck the next day, but the thought of Heeseung using you for his own pleasure, fucking you like a flesh light.

“Take my fucking dick, baby.” You knew he was close when his breath got heavier, sweat dripping down from his neck to your back “You’re squeezing it so tight.”

He let go of your head and held you up, supporting your body weight so that your back was pressed against his chest, one hand grasping your tit as the other circled your sensitive bud.

You were a moaning mess, tears staining your cheeks and ruining the mascara you had put on.

Heeseung gave one final deep thrust before cumming inside you, his length twitching, load filling you up and at the same time the knot in your stomach snapped, making you cum for the second time of the night.

Heeseung kept pounding, slowly and deeply, fucking his cum back into you, kissing the neck he had marked before.

Both your breaths were heavy, and as he pulled out, you fell on the mattress right away, all your forces leaving your body.

You turned around, laying on your back. You felt the mix of your cum dripping down on your thighs and mattress but you didn’t even care— not at that moment.

Your eyes were so heavy, both from the lack of sleep and the draining sensation coming after sex.

Heeseung placed one pillow under your head and caressed your cheek with his thumb.

You thought you heard a faint “Happy birthday, love.” With a featherlight kiss on your forehead, but you weren’t sure if it was a dream or reality. What you were sure, though, was that when you opened your eyes again the only thing left of Heeseung was the smell of cigarettes and wood.

[biteyoubiteme]

I'll be quick

huening kai x fem!reader

synopsis: dress shopping with your boyfriend.

warnings: 🔞!!! slight exhibitionism, chubby reader implied, no protection, creampie mention, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.9k

an: thank you so much for requesting hp! im so nervous for you to read this lol I hope you like it if you don’t just put me down nicely :)) <3333

[m.list] [1kevent m.list]

“How about this one?” you ask, smoothing your hands down the front of the silk dress you wore. It was the kind of material that should not be worn with this type of underwear; your pantie line clearly visible. Your hands went sliding down over your ass as if that would make the buckled fabric disappear. “Ignore the fact I'm wearing the wrong panties,” 

You give a slow spin in the fluorescent lights, the semicircle of mirrors reflecting every angle of your dress-clad figure at you. But all you can see is the damned line from your underwear. “Actually don't answer that, I hate it,” 

“I love it,” Kai speaks up from his spot opposite the mirrors. He's leaning back with your purse in his lap, eyes tracing up and down your body as he watches the way the material clings to you. He can imagine the way it would feel under his fingers, sliding over the expanse of your thighs. 

“You always say that,” you mutter, turning your cheek to look at the dress from the back. You can see Huening watching, eyes tacked right to the outline of your underwear. “Kai,” 

“What?” he blinks up at you like he was caught. Cheeks flushed as he pulled your bag closer to his lap.

“Is it that bad?” It was late in the day, and your usual trip to the mall was fun. Both of you could spend hours going from shop to shop, no need to buy anything but to spend time together looking at all the new things in store. It was one of your favorite things to do. 

Kai would follow you around like a little puppy, letting you pick out things for him to try on. Pulling him into dressing rooms so that he could get something new to wear. Spending too much time at the sunglasses wrack, spinning the display around and around, trying on each pair, first on you then on him, giggling over the silly reflective wraparound pairs. He loved when you picked out the different things for him to put on, especially jeans, your hands sliding into the back pockets to check their depth was always his favorite part. 

You had your favorite spots at the food court, always picking the same little table every time you sat down, knees bumping as you picked over each other's meals. Kai would carry your drink while you tried on shoes, hold your bag when you tried on clothes. And most of the time having him along with you made shopping less overstimulating, you could have fun without rushing to just get the shopping over with. 

Only now that you needed a dress for an event it felt like everything was crashing down at that very moment. Nothing felt right, every dress you tried on made it feel like you wouldn't find the one. The lights now make everything look too oversaturated, the dressing room is now cold enough to make goosebumps rise along your arms, and now the stupid panty line. 

You didn't even know why you were so focused on finding the right outfit, it was a last minute decision to even go to the little dinner your friends were hosting. you didn't need something new but you wanted something new. 

“Just take them off,” Kai suggests, sweet face glowing in the lights, every little mole dotting his skin easily seen. 

The fitting rooms were in the back of the store, the long hallway sectioned off with several doors before ending right at the little platform with the mirrors you stood now. Although a few people milled around in the shop just past the corner no one was in the other changing rooms. He was suggesting an easy fix to the only problem you were having with the dress and so you took it. Even though the door to the room where you kept all your other clothes was open and waiting for you to go back inside, you just bent right there hands going up under your dress and hooking in the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down and off without lifting the dress to expose yourself. 

Kai feels all the blood rush to his face, the prickling heat slinking through his bones. It was enough to already be thinking about undressing you, but now seeing you do most of the work for him, at his suggestion, was taking him out. You tossed the fabric into the dressing room, aiming for your pile of clothes but missing, the corner of the fabric still seen from where Kai's sitting. 

“That's so much better,” you're back to sliding your hands down the silky fabric, flattening out any bumps to make sure it's lying right. You love the way it hugs your thighs, outlines the shape of your hips, the curves of your stomach, and lays against the swell of your chest. “Okay now just imagine it without a bra, I'll have to find something without straps,” 

“It's uh- it's really nice,” you look over at him in his hesitation to find that he wasn't saying it just to appease you but was finding it hard to swallow back what he really wanted to say. He was doing exactly what you asked, picturing you naked under all that silk, he could see it falling to the floor, how easy it would be to slip right off of you.  He pushed your purse closer to his growing bulge, cheeks flushing deeper when you asked, “Huening, are you blushing?” 

He loved it when you used that slightly teasing tone on him, it was as if your fingers were brushing up his neck with each word. “I think that's the one,” he was avoiding directly drawing attention to your question, not needing to think about exactly why he’s red so that he can try and wish away his erection before you guys walk out of here. 

“Okay, perfect.  I don't think I want to even try on anymore ,anyways,” you step down from the little platform, “oh, do you think we could stop at the little candy store on the corner and get the gummies we shared last time?” 

“Umhum,” he gives his usual hum in response as you close the door behind you. 

It's only then that you realize that you can't undo the zipper by yourself, he had helped you do up the back with no problem and there was no way for you to reach up to grab the zipper on your own. “Kai? Could you help me take this off?” 

It's the last thing he should be doing, he knows it as soon as he's in the dressing room with you, hand placed on your hip as he steadies you. You're just as soft as he expected, his free hand not even making it to the zipper. You watch him in the mirror in front of you, his eyes following his fingers as they make their way down gripping the outside of your thighs.“God, I love your body,” he groans, his head falling to your shoulder, lips dusting over your shoulder when you finally feel how hard he is. “You really like the dress huh?” 

“No I just love you and need you, please I'll be quick,” he whines right at the back of your ear. 

“Anyone could hear-” 

“I'll be quiet, I promise, please,” and your slight nod is all he needs to push up the back of your dress, his hand pushing between your thighs, dragging his fingers through your fold, swirling over your clit to build up your arousal. You fall forward, hands bracing yourself on the mirror, kai readjusts so that one hand is splayed across your tummy, silk spilling through his fingers. 

He’s quick to free himself from his jeans, pushing them down just enough so that he can line himself up with you, dragging his tip through your folds, catching at your entrance. You know yourself well enough to cover your mouth when he pushes in, the overwhelming stretch of him always making you whine. He's no better, his pretty face reflecting at you as his mouth opens in a silent moan when he fully seats himself inside you. His head falls into your shoulder so that he can muffle any sound that wants to escape, your back arching as his hold on your plushie hip tightens, fingers digging into the soft skin of your tummy. 

Kais intoxicatingly deep inside you, his first thrust pulls a throaty whimper for you that you can't hold back. “This was a bad idea-” you try to whisper, cutting yourself off by clamping your hand back on your mouth when he slams his hips against your ass. His breath fanning over your ear when he whispers, “You feel fucking amazing,” his trapped whimpers rumbling his chest, all the vibrations pressed to your back. He peeks in the mirror, biting his lip when he watches the way your tits bounce, hanging perfectly in view for him, “fuck- look at you,” 

His cock slides so effortlessly in and out of your needy cunt, warm fluttering walls drawing him in until he's forgetting he needs to be silent, that he shouldn't be pounding this hard, changing his orgasm so intensely that someone might hear him. 

It's the soft clapping of skin that reminds you where you are, “slow down kai- we could- we could-,” but it's then that he uses the hand on your hip to slide under the bunched fabric of your dress, to draw circles on your clit. It was an instant shock that had your knees shaking. 

“Who cares,” he's muttering, head shaking as he picks up his pace, “If anyone saw you dressed like this they would want to be right where I am, fuck, but they could never fuck you like I can, never,” his last word caught on the end of a whimper drawn out and pulled from him as he came. 

It's the look on his face, brows tightening, eyes squeezing shut as he falls apart, mixed with his steady pressure on your clit that has you tumbling over the edge after him. Your whole body flexes as he pulls you in tight to him, hand leaving your stomach to clamp over your mouth. 

Both of you are struggling to catch your breath in the now stuffy room, mirror fogged up from your hands, skin once chilled now inflamed with your post-sex afterglow. His cock still jerked even when he pulled out of you, his hand moving to try and stop the spill of your combined release. Your thighs try to close around the feeling of him brushing your sensitive clit while he leans down to pick up your discarded underwear, using them to clean you up. 

He peppers kisses all along your cheeks bunching up the soiled fabric in his hand before unzipping your dress. “I really do love this dress on you,” 

“Oh really? I couldn't tell,” you giggle, and he helps you get dressed, carrying your bags out after you, panties shoved into his back pocket. 

When you leave the store you wrap an arm around his center, going underneath his jacket to feel all his warmth. He slinks his arms around your shoulder, tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Didn't I hear you say something about getting gummies?” 

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you to @thetxtdevil @hmusunoo @hyukascampfire and @prince-jjae for proofreading/beta reading this for me ily all sm okay my little sweet baby angels I hope you get everything youve ever wanted in life and more

[ateezscupid]

Idol Yeosang x reader smut Takes place after a fan meet where she has a tear in her clothing

─── 𝗡𝗗𝗔.

warnings ✩ FLUFF&SMUT, EVENTUAL SMUT!! fem!reader, soft dom!yeosang, sub!reader, idol au, there is a SHIT TON of sexual tension before anything actually happens, virgin!reader, fingering (f receiving), oral (f), unprotected sex, praise, light choking, relationship not established, idol x fan basically, YOU'LL GET A WARNING BEFORE THE SMUT HAPPENS.

word count ✩ 6,52k (i know i'm so sorry)

tags ✩ @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

NOTE !! Much longer than I had planned for it to be, but don't worry, there is smut. This has been in my drafts for well over a year. had to get it out the way, LOL.

After what felt like forever, you finally got the chance to meet Ateez at a fan-meet. You've seen so many videos of Atiny's reactions to seeing them in person, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. The moment you saw them, your heart skipped a beat, and your palms grew sticky with excitement. You had rehearsed what you'd say a hundred times in the mirror, but now, face-to-face with your favorite member, Yeosang, your mind had gone utterly blank.

You wanted to look pretty. You had picked out the perfect outfit weeks ago—a long-sleeve, off-white crop top, a short black pleated skirt, black sheer tights, black heels, and a small red shoulder bag as an accessory. You didn't think it was too much. It was a simple outfit! But as soon as you saw Yeosang standing there, his eyes scanning the room, you felt like you were dressed for a wedding, not a meet and greet.

As they went back to their seats and lines started forming, you held your little photocard book in your hands, eyes switching between the members. Your gaze was mostly spent on Yeosang. You felt like you were in a trance. Your heart was racing, but you had to snap out of it.

You took your time with each member, making friendly conversation and sharing brief but meaningful moments, yet Yeosang remained a blurry figure in the corner of your mind. The anticipation grew as the line inched closer to where he sat. His gentle smile and soft laughter from the interactions before yours echoed in your ears, fueling your nerves.

And finally, you were here. You sat across from him and smiled, sitting the book on the table. Yeosang looked up, and his eyes met yours, and for a split second, it felt like the entire room had stopped spinning. He was even more breathtaking in person. His smile grew wider as he took your book into his hands. The gentle way his fingers grazed the pages made your cheeks burn.

"H-Hi," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Yeosang looked up from the book, his eyes meeting yours again, and you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body. He had the most mesmerizing smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine warmth.

"Your outfit looks great," he said, his voice as smooth as honey. It took you a second to realize he was referring to your outfit, and the compliment left you feeling flustered.

"Thank you! Um, I-I wanted--um,"

"Are those your photocards?" Yeosang asked, nodding at the book. You nodded, feeling your cheeks grow hotter. "You have quite a collection," he said with admiration, flipping through the pages. Your eyes followed his every move, watching as his thumb traced over the images of the members, pausing briefly at his own.

Some photocards had signatures from the other members. All but Yeosang's. Without being asked, he grabs the pen beside him and signs the empty card. You watched as the ink danced across the card, his signature neat and confident.

"Thank you." you smiled, trying to compose yourself. Yeosang's eyes looked up from the book, meeting yours again. There was something in his gaze that made you feel seen, like he was really looking at you, not just at a fan in line.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I noticed you've been eyeing me all night. Is there something you want to say?"

"I-I have-? I'm so sorry, this is like -- my first time going to one of these things so I just…I-I'm nervous. I didn't mean to stare," you stuttered, feeling your cheeks blaze with embarrassment. Yeosang chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It's okay," he assured you, his voice still soft. "I don't mind. In fact, I'm flattered. But, tell me, which member is your favorite?"

"You," you blurted out without thinking, your eyes widening in horror. The words hung in the air for a beat too long before you could scramble to recover. "I mean, I like all of Ateez, but if I had to pick, I guess I've always had a soft spot for… you." Yeosang's smile grew into a full-blown grin, his eyes gleaming with delight.

He leaned in closer, and for a second, you thought he was going to tease you about it, but instead, he said, "You know, you're the first one to answer that question so honestly." His words sent a warm wave through you, and you couldn't help but blush even more.

You made a weird, stuttering noise, your face feeling hotter than a sunburn. "Re-really?"

Yeosang nodded, still smiling. "Really. Most fans are shy about it, but I like your honesty." He leaned back in his chair, giving you a moment to collect your thoughts. The silence grew heavier, and you felt your palms start to sweat.

You shudder, pushing your hair behind your ear. "T-That's--thank you. Or--you're welcome-? I-I don't know w-what to say."

Yeosang's grin softens, his eyes looking into yours. "No need to be nervous," he says gently. "I'm just as human as you are."

You nod. "Can I say something that's--I don't know, it may be corny.." you sniffle. "I always thought that if I went to these, the idol would get this big crush on me and they'd want me to meet them after to sign an NDA or something." You chuckle a bit after saying it and then pause.

Why. Why would you say that-?! Now he's going to think you're one of those crazy, obsessive fans! Panic starts to set in, but before you can apologize, Yeosang laughs. It's a light, airy sound that makes you feel less like you're about to hyperventilate.

"Where'd you get that from?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes. You shrug, trying to play it off.

"Just, you know, fan fantasies, fansites," you reply with a forced chuckle. "I-Is it not true-?"

He narrows his eyes, still grinning. "I can't say. It's an NDA after all." The mischief in his tone made you laugh, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. You felt a bit more at ease, the nervousness giving way to a genuine connection.

"Why do you ask? You had to have brought it up for a reason." he chuckled. "Did you want one? An NDA?"

You truly couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "N-No!" You blurt out, your heart racing. "It was just a random thought. I-I don't expect anything like that, I just--"

"Did you?" He teases, raising an eyebrow playfully. His eyes sparkle with humor, and for a moment, you forget where you are.

"I-I mean-" you glance around. Other people were getting up. Your time was ending quickly. "It was just a joke. A bad one."

Yeosang narrowed his eyes once more before tilting his head. "You're gonna be around here for a while, right? Maybe we can talk more after the fan-meet ends?" His question hung in the air, hopeful and casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Your eyes widened. "R-Really?" You stuttered, trying to keep your voice from squeaking. He nodded, his smile never wavering. "H-How do I find you, I-"

"My number is on the back of the photocard." Yeosang said, handing the book back to you. You took it, your hands trembling slightly. He had actually given you his number? This had to be a dream.

But it wasn't. The fan-meet was real, and so was the warmth in his eyes as he spoke to you. You nodded, trying to keep your cool, even though your insides were doing somersaults. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice a bit steadier.

It had been a few hours after the fan meet. You had been staring at his contact for the entire time. Should you text him? Was it really his number? You bit your lip, contemplating your options. You had his autograph and a promise of a conversation, but was it too much to hope for more? You decided to wait. The excitement of the fan meet was still buzzing through your veins, and you didn't want to ruin it with a potentially embarrassing text.

Then, your phone buzzed. You opened your messages and saw a text. From…Yeosang's number. "Hey. This is the girl from the fan-meet right?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly typed back, "Yes, it's me!" You couldn't believe it. He had actually reached out.

"I hope you're not too tired," Yeosang's message read. "But if you're still up for it, would you like to grab some ice cream?"

Your heart raced as you read the message. Yeosang was asking you out?! You reread the text, making sure it wasn't a typo or a prank. But as you looked at the screen, you saw the message was still there.

"Yes, I'd love to," you replied, trying to keep your excitement in check. You didn't want to come off too eager, but the thrill of his invitation was almost too much to handle.

"Great! There's a café not far from here that has amazing ice cream. Do you know where it is?" Yeosang's text was prompt as if he had been waiting for your response.

"No, but I can totally find it," you replied, feeling the butterflies in your stomach take flight. You quickly Googled the café's name and location, your fingers trembling with excitement. "I'll be there in 10 minutes!"

And in ten minutes, you had arrived. The cafe was empty besides for Yeosang and the barista. The walls were plastered with polaroids of past customers and a chalkboard menu that listed exotic flavors like matcha mint and honey lavender. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but your heart was too busy doing somersaults to notice.

Yeosang sat at a corner booth, sipping from a cup, his eyes scanning over the room. When they met yours, he stood up with a smile, waving you over. "Hi," he said, his voice softer than you remembered. You couldn't believe that the same person who had been performing on stage earlier was now standing in front of you, in a simple white t-shirt and black jeans.

You took a deep breath, trying to play it cool, and slid into the booth across from him. "Hi," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. He laughed, a sound that made your heart flutter.

"You don't have to be so nervous," he said, setting down his coffee cup. "I'm just a person who likes ice cream."

You nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. "I know, I just…" You paused, searching for the right words. "This is all so surreal."

Yeosang leaned in slightly, his eyes holding yours. "I get it. But we're just two people sharing a sweet treat, okay?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. The tension in your shoulders eased a bit. You ordered your ice cream, going for the Homerun Ball—his favorite, you remembered from a past interview. Yeosang's eyes lit up when he saw your choice.

"Good call," he said, his smile widening. "It's my go-to when I'm stressed."

The barista brought over two dishes of ice cream. Yeosang's was the same as yours. You had chosen a more modest amount of chocolate filling, but the sight of his treat made you reconsider your choice. He noticed your gaze and chuckled.

"You can always ask for more later," he said, twirling a spoonful of ice cream in your direction. "You know, for research."

You laugh, feeling the nervousness dissipate. As you both dig into your Homerun Balls, the conversation starts to flow more naturally. Yeosang tells you about his favorite childhood memories with ice cream, and you share stories of your first Ateez concert, the thrill of the lights and the music, and how you felt when you saw them live for the first time. His eyes light up as he listens, and you feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

The café's soft jazz music plays in the background, and the occasional clinking of spoons against bowls fills the air. You take a moment to appreciate the quiet, intimate setting. The world outside seems to melt away, leaving only the two of you in this cozy little bubble.

"So, tell me more about your favorite member," Yeosang says, his spoon hovering over his ice cream. You feel a blush creep up your neck as you realize he's referring to himself.

"Well, he's really sweet. And kind. And talented," you start, your voice growing more confident as you speak. Yeosang nods, his eyes never leaving yours, making you feel as if you were the only person in the room. "But it's more than that. It's how he looks at the crowd when he performs, like he sees every single person, really sees them. It's like he's singing just for me."

You pause. That sounded a bit…sasaengy. "B-But, y'know, thousands of people. He's not only singing for me! Just, like, a metaphor or something." You laugh nervously, hoping he didn't think you were too crazy.

Yeosang nods, his eyes still on yours. "I know what you mean. That's why we do what we do. To make everyone in the crowd feel seen." He smiles warmly. "But, it's nice to hear that you feel connected."

"Yeah." you chuckle a bit. "He's also cute. No, I mean, you're all cute. It's just--it's your voice, Yeosang. It's soothing, and when you dance, it's like watching poetry in motion." You blush deeper, realizing you've probably said too much. But Yeosang just smiles, looking genuinely touched by your words.

"Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "That means a lot to me."

You nod, taking a bite of your ice cream to hide your blushing cheeks. The sweetness of the chocolate is a welcome distraction from the heat in your face. As you savor the taste, Yeosang watches you, his gaze curious.

"Did you wanna ask more questions?" you giggle. "You're staring at me as if you wanted to ask me something else."

Yeosang's cheeks tinge pink. "Well, I was wondering if you had any questions about, you know, the industry or anything."

"Not really…" you say, trying to play it cool despite the excitement bubbling inside you. "But if it's okay, I've always wondered…what's the most challenging part of being an idol?"

Yeosang pauses for a moment, considering your question. He takes a bite of his ice cream, and you can see his mind working behind those beautiful eyes. "Hmm," he says, "I guess it's the constant pressure to be perfect. To perform, to look good, to make everyone happy. It's a lot to handle sometimes."

You nod, feeling a pang of empathy. You had never thought of it that way before. You had always seen idols as these untouchable beings who lived glamorous lives, but here he was, opening up about the challenges that came with it.

"Yeah, I can imagine that must be really tough," you say, your voice gentle. Yeosang nods, his eyes searching yours as if looking for understanding. "But you guys are all so amazing at what you do. It's easy to forget that you're human too."

He looks down at his ice cream for a moment before looking up and smiling. "Thanks for that," he says, his eyes warm. "It's nice to be reminded every once in a while."

"Of course." You reply, your eyes never leaving his. "I mean, it's just… I've been a fan for so long, and I've seen how hard you all work."

He just…smiles, his eyes examining your features, looking you up and down. "I don't mean to throw us off-topic, but you're very beautiful."

Your heart stops, and your spoon clatters against your bowl. Did he just…? "Yeosang," you whisper, trying to keep your cool. "I-I'm just a fan. I'm not--"

He holds up a hand to stop you. "You're not just a fan to me right now," he says, his voice earnest. "You're a person I've been enjoying getting to know."

If you weren't so paranoid of him being weirded out by you, you would've jumped across the table and pounced on him. But you managed to keep your cool, mostly. You felt your cheeks burning up like a furnace as you looked away, trying to compose yourself. "Really?" you murmured, feeling the heat of his gaze.

"Yes, really," he said, his voice a gentle caress. "You have this…glow about you. It's hard to ignore."

"A-And--you think--I'm beautiful-?" You had to repeat it to believe it. You felt like you were going to pass out.

"I do," Yeosang said, his voice firm but still gentle. "You're really attractive."

"Oh my god," you exhaled softly. The noise sounded too much like a moan, but you were so blanked out to even notice. You felt your cheeks burning up and your heart racing faster than ever. Was this really happening? Yeosang thinks you're beautiful?

"Thanks," you murmur, your eyes flickering up to meet his before darting away again. The room felt so much warmer, the air thick with unspoken tension. You took a bite of your ice cream to distract yourself, the coldness soothing your burning cheeks. The chocolate filled your mouth, but the sweetness was lost in the rush of your thoughts.

He was still looking at you and you fought with everything in you not to jump across the table and pounce on him. "I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice shaking.

"It's fine." He turned around, grabbing a bag that you didn't notice before. He was reaching for something but you couldn't tell what it was. "I know it's a lot to take in. But I just wanted to tell you. You seem like someone special." He finally pulled out a piece of paper. He slid it toward you. It was face down.

No way this was what you thought it was.

Yeosang slid the paper closer to you, and you took it with trembling fingers. You couldn't believe what was happening. You looked up at him, and his expression was earnest, his eyes searching yours. "What's this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't say anything. He only smiled. You flipped it around and read it. It was an NDA.

An NDA.

A literal Non-Disclosure Agreement.

You stared at it blankly, your jaw hung. Was he serious? Your eyes shot up to meet his, and his expression didn't waver. The corners of his mouth twitched with a hint of mischief.

"If you don't want to, you don't have t-"

"OF COURSE I ACCEPT!?" You squealed before you could stop yourself. Yeosang's grin grew wider, the mischief in his eyes glittering like stars. He leaned back in his seat, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him. "But why me?" you managed to ask, trying to keep the excitement from your voice.

"Like I said: you're really fucking pretty. You sat here and treated me like a human and not like some sort of object. And at the fan meet I thought you were really pretty. Plus, your sense of humor is…surprising." Yeosang said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "But let's keep this between us, okay?" He nodded towards the NDA.

"Uh huh, yeah," you nod, already digging through your bag trying to find a pen. You found one and signed the NDA as fast as you possibly could, your heart racing. Yeosang watched you with amusement, his smile never leaving his face.

"W-What now? I-I've never signed one of these before-"

"You go home with me." Yeosang said, his voice still low. You stared at him, the words echoing in your ears. He couldn't be serious, could he?

"Yeosang. I can't express how excited I am right now." You whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. He nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He stands and grabs his bag, leaving money on the table and holding his hand out for you to grab.

You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch, and allowed him to lead you out of the café into the cool evening air. The street outside was quieter than you had expected, with only a few people strolling by. You looked up at him, his height making you feel safe and protected. "Is this…are we really doing this?"

He nods and you wasted zero time hugging his arm, walking out with him as he guides you down the street. The cool night breeze brushing against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat coming from his side. "Yeah," he says, his voice low and calm. "This is happening."

You walk for a few minutes before Yeosang stops in front of a black sedan. The driver opens the door for you and you slip inside, Yeosang following closely. The car is plush and smells faintly of his cologne. You're pretty sure your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

As the car pulls away from the curb, Yeosang turns to you with a gentle smile. "I know this might seem weird," he says, "but I wanted to make sure you felt comfortable."

You nod, your heart racing a mile a minute. "I-I trust you," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. The NDA still felt like a weight in your pocket, a reminder of the surreal situation you've found yourself in.

Yeosang's smile grows a little wider, and he nods. "Good," he says, his eyes holding yours for a moment before looking away. You both sit in silence as the car drove back to his apartment. The anticipation is palpable, and your heart feels like it's going to explode. You've always dreamed of this moment, but you never thought it would be so…real.

When you both made it back to his apartment, he took his time with you. He allowed you to eat whatever you set your eyes on. You felt like a kid in a candy store, but with less sugar and more nervousness. Yeosang was a perfect host, making sure you felt comfortable and at ease. The apartment was sleek and modern, with a touch of personal taste that was unmistakably his. You noticed the little things—a book of poetry on the coffee table, a guitar in the corner of the living room, and a few stray polaroids that had escaped their frame and scattered across the floor.

While you were ransacking his kitchen, you heard him get up and walk in behind you, standing behind you and placing a hand on the counter. "Did you find what you wanted?" he asked, his voice warm and -- you were definitely staying the night.

You turned around, biting your lip, trying to hide your excitement. "I did, thanks." You said, trying to keep your voice steady. Yeosang's hand reached out to grab a water bottle from the fridge, his sleeve riding up slightly, revealing his toned forearm. You swallowed hard. "Do you want anything?"

He squints, opening the water bottle. You could tell he was fighting with himself. Whatever he wanted to say definitely wasn't family friendly. "You want me to be honest?" his eyes twinkling with mischief and you nod.

"You." Yeosang says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want you."

SMUT BELOW THIS.

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn even hotter. You couldn't believe what you just heard. Your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it in your ears. "Y-You do?" you stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Why do you think I gave you the NDA?" Yeosang stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. The tension in the room grew thicker, the air crackling with a new kind of electricity. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts.

"Y-Yes," you finally managed to say, your voice barely a whisper. "But I thought we were just having ice cream." Which was a goddamn lie. In all honesty, you had been fantasizing about his hand son your bare skin since the second you walked into the cafe.

Yeosang leaned in closer, his breath tickling your neck. "We can still have ice cream," he murmured, his hand reaching for the fridge again, pulling out another pint. "But I thought maybe we could have it in a more…comfortable setting." He nodded towards his bedroom.

"Yeosang," you breathe out his name, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. You hadn't anticipated this happening so soon, but here you are, standing in his kitchen with the promise of a night beyond your wildest dreams. He smiles, his eyes never leaving yours as he opens the freezer door. The cold air from inside sends a shiver down your spine, or was it just his proximity?

"Yeah?"

You couldn't stop yourself. You inhaled sharply and pulled him into a kiss before he could react, his body stiffening for a moment before melting into it. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with a passion that sent your senses reeling. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and more, his lips soft yet firm, his scent intoxicating. You felt like you could stay there forever, lost in his embrace.

He grabs the underside of your legs and lifted you up, sitting you on the countertop. Your heart races as he kisses you deeper, his hands moving up to cradle your face. The coolness of the marble countertop is a stark contrast to the heat that's building between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling his heart thumping against your chest.

Your fingers grasped at his shirt, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss. His hands roamed up your back, sending shivers down your spine. This was it—you were kissing Yeosang, your ultimate bias. The reality was so overwhelming, you could feel your knees go weak. He must've felt it too, because he tightened his grip, holding you firmly against the counter.

He grabbed the hem of your skirt and slid it up, his hands brushing against your skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped into his mouth, your eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again, lost in the feeling of his touch. He broke the kiss, panting slightly, and looked into your eyes.

He wrapped your legs around his waist and picked you up, walking toward his bedroom. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed. You squealed, surprised by his sudden action, but also thrilled. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp in the corner, casting shadows across the bed. You looked up at him, your heart racing, as he took off his t-shirt.

He slid your skirt down your legs, revealing your black lace underwear. You had picked it out with the hope that he would see it tonight, but now that the moment was here, you felt a rush of nerves. Yeosang leaned over you, his eyes dark with desire as he kissed along your jawline and down to your neck. His touch was gentle but firm, leaving you trembling and craving more.

He grabbed your tights and ripped them apart. You were going to say something, but his lips found yours again, and your protest turned into a moan of pleasure. His kiss was hungry, as if he had been starving for this moment. His hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs tracing the edge of your panties. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second, your body begging for more.

You pulled away, panting heavily. "W-Wait," you said, trying to get your bearings. Yeosang stopped, his eyes searching yours for any signs of hesitation. You took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm good," you assured him, your voice shaky. "I just…I need to tell you something."

"What is it, baby?" Oh, that pet name had you wet. You had to force your brain to remember what you had to say.

"I'm…I'm a virgin," you whispered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You had never talked about this with anyone before, let alone your idol.

"You are?" Yeosang's eyes searched yours, a hint of surprise in them. But instead of pulling away, his expression softened into something gentle, something reassuring. He took a step back, giving you space. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves. "We can take this slow."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. The idea of being with him, of sharing this experience with your bias, was both thrilling and terrifying. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yeosang leaned down, kissing you softly. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he began to explore your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, slipping beneath your panties to tease your sensitive skin. You gasped as his thumb circled your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. The pleasure was almost unbearable, building within you like a crescendo of desire.

"O-Oh my god," you moan, immediately grabbing his wrist and pushing it closer, your eyes rolling back into your head. He chuckled against your mouth, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was so intense, you felt your legs tremble and tighten around his waist.

"You're so sensitive," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "It's so sexy." He kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just behind your ear.

He started moving his thumb faster, and the sensation was too much. You could feel an orgasm building deep within you, your body tightening around him. "Yeosang," you gasped out his name, your nails digging into his skin. He seemed to understand what you needed, his touch growing more insistent.

He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone and between your breasts. You arched your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his mouth found your nipple. His tongue flicked and teased the sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. Your legs tightened around his waist, urging him closer as you felt yourself getting wetter.

He then kissed down your stomach, moving even further until his mouth replaced his thumb. You gasped as he licked and sucked at your clit, the sensation so intense that you thought you might shatter. Your body was responding to him like a finely tuned instrument, each stroke of his tongue bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He held your legs apart, his eyes meeting yours, watching for any sign of discomfort. You bit your lip, the pleasure building until it was all you could focus on. And then it crashed over you, your body shuddering as you climaxed. Yeosang didn't stop, though, continuing to flick and suck on your clit until you were writhing beneath him, begging for mercy. He made sure your legs were open, pushing his face deeper.

"Y-Yeo-Yeosang!" You grabbed a handful of his hair, feeling a finger prodding at your entrance. The sensation was too much, and your body clenched around it. "O-Oh my god," you whimpered, your voice tight with pleasure. His eyes flicked up to yours, his mouth curling into a smug smile before he added a second finger, stretching you gently. You felt yourself getting wetter, the slickness of your arousal making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

"F-Fuck-" Not a single thought was running through your head. You had lost all coherence as Yeosang's tongue swirled around your clit and his fingers worked their magic inside you. It was as if your brain had melted away, leaving only pure, unadulterated pleasure in its wake. His eyes remained on yours, watching as you reached new heights, savoring every twitch and gasp that passed your lips.

You felt something bubbling in your stomach and you sat up, trying to form words. "Yeosang," you breathed. "I-I'm--"

You squealed and fell back, a large amount of liquid spilled out of you, your thighs instinctively closing around his head. He didn't stop. Instead, he let you squirt, fingering you even harder, his tongue pressing firmly against your clit as he lapped up the juices that were flowing like a river.

"O-Oh my fucking-" You couldn't even finish your sentence as Yeosang's mouth worked its magic, your body pulsing around his fingers.

He looked up at you, his eyes hooded with lust as you came again, even harder than before. He slowly pulled back, licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you. "You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He pulls away, spreading your legs again and undoing his belt with shaky hands. You can see the outline of his erection through his pants, and you realize that you're not the only one affected by this. Yeosang's breathing is heavy, and his eyes are filled with a hunger that sends a thrill through your body.

"I'll be as gentle as can be, princess," he whispers, pulling his jeans off and kicking them aside. He pushed his boxers down, his cock springing free. You felt a brief moment of terror—it was bigger than you had ever seen. But his gentle smile and the tenderness in his eyes reassured you. He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. You nod, feeling more ready than you ever have been for this moment. He kissed you again, his hand moving to position himself at your entrance. You feel the tip of him push against you, and you tense up, ready for the pain.

"Relax, baby." he pushed the tip inside and you grabbed his wrist once again, your nails digging into his skin. You felt a sharp pain, but he was right, it was only a pinch. He pushed in slowly, letting your body adjust to his size. You could feel him stretching you, filling you up. His eyes never left yours, his expression one of pure concentration and concern.

"Yeosang," you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to distract yourself from the pressure building inside of you. His eyes searched yours for any signs of discomfort, his own desire barely restrained. He pushed in further, and you gasped as you felt yourself stretching around him. The pain was intense but mixed with the overwhelming need for more.

"You're doing so good for me," he whispers, his voice thick with need as he continues to push inside you. You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan as your body adjusts to the new sensation. Finally, with one final push, he's all the way in, filling you completely.

He began thrusting, slow and steady, watching you intently as he did. You felt your body stretching to accommodate him, and the pain slowly began to recede, replaced by a deep, all-consuming pleasure. Each movement sent waves crashing through you, and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your body eager to take all of him in.

You moaned his name, the sound echoing in the quiet room, and he responded by kissing you harder, his hips moving faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust. You felt your muscles tightening around him, the tension building to an unbearable level.

You held onto him as tightly as you possibly could, your nails digging into his back as he pushed into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Yeosang's rhythm grew faster, his breathing more ragged, and you could feel his muscles tense with effort. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, calling you "baby" and "princess" in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're so pretty, so tight," Yeosang murmured, his voice strained as he picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge again, your walls clenching around him. The pressure built and built until you couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I'm gonna cum again-" you cry out, refusing to let go of him. His face was shoved into your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he moaned, his thrusts growing more erratic. He kissed up your neck, finding your mouth again, his tongue slipping inside in a delicate dance with yours.

The closer you both got, the more passionate it felt, more loving than anything. Yeosang's thrusts grew stronger, and your body responded with a symphony of pleasure. You could feel his muscles tensing and his breaths getting shorter as he neared his climax. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, words of reassurance and passion that only added fuel to the fire burning between you.

"O-Oh my god, I love you," It slipped out. You didn't even notice that you said it. But his eyes widened, and he stopped for a moment, his cock still deep inside you. He stared at you for a second before kissing you again, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring your mouth like it was a treasure.

"I love you too, baby." He whispered back, and your heart stopped. Did he just say that?

You felt tears prickling in your eyes as he started thrusting again, pushing you closer and closer. Yeosang's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze only increasing as he felt your love. His movements grew more urgent, his breathing ragged as he neared his peak.

And finally, you came, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Yeosang groaned into your mouth, his own climax following closely behind, filling you up in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He held you tightly, his body shaking with the force of his release, his cock pulsing within you.

Neither of you let go. You both breathed heavily into each other's mouths, your hearts beating so loudly they could have drowned out the world outside. The room was a cocoon of heat and love, a space where only the two of you existed.

"You love me…?" you whispered, voice cracking. The words felt alien on your tongue, yet filled you with a warmth that was as surprising as it was overwhelming.

"I mean," he pants. "You said it first and I… yeah." He kisses you again, softer this time. "I've never felt this way about a fan before." His admission sends your heart soaring, and you realize you've been holding your breath.

"…So…what--what are…what is this-?" You stuttered, trying to make sense of his words. Your heart felt like it was going to explode from your chest.

Yeosang pulled out of you gently, his eyes still locked on yours. "This is us, baby," he murmured, stroking your cheek. "We're more than just a fan and an idol now."

[babyleostuff]

today was (not) a fairytale

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k

. . . mingyu forgets about your anniversary

mingyu was a busy guy, that was obvious. but one thing he was never too busy for was you. it didn’t matter if it was just a can you couldn’t open, or a spider that had to be killed - mingyu was always there for you, no questions asked. to be honest, you could call him and tell him you wanted a hug, and he’d drop whatever he was doing just so he could trap you in a bear hug for the rest of the evening. that was how whipped he was. 

and now he was late. two hours. 

at first you thought something had happened - you texted some of the boys to ask if they knew where he was, you called his mom - you even checked the latest news, worried to see any updates about a car accident. 

nothing. 

sitting at an expensive restaurant full of people by yourself was humiliating enough, but what bothered you even more was that it was supposed to be your anniversary dinner. mingyu never missed any milestones of your relationship, he even bought you small gifts on the date you had your first kiss. 

then it hit you - his location. quickly pulling your phone out of your bag, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

he was at seungcheol’s place. 

not bothering to call your boyfriend - it wasn’t like he was answering any of your calls before, so why bother - you called the oldest boy, fiddling with your napkin that you wouldn’t be probably using tonight either way. 

“hey, is everything okay?” seungcheol asked immediately. it wasn’t often that you called him, especially at such a late hour, so he figured something must have happened. 

“is mingyu with you?” you heard some shuffling in the background, and noises that sounded a lot like your boyfriend and hoshi. 

“um, yeah. you want me to pass him the phone?” you could clearly hear seungcheol’s confusion in his voice, but you weren’t in the “shitting rainbows and unicorns” mood, so you didn’t even bother with hiding your annoyance. 

“fan-fucking-tastic.” 

you couldn’t believe he actually forgot about your anniversary. you had been planning this date for such a long time now. getting a reservation at this restaurant wasn’t easy, even mingyu had to pull a few strings and flash a couple of polite smiles, so you could come here on the exact day of your milestone. you prepared matching outfits for god’s sake. how could have he forgotten? 

“tell him not to come back home tonight,” you said, and hung up the phone before seungcheol could say anything. 

you spend the whole ride home trying to keep your tears from falling. you didn’t know what was worse - sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for someone who was over at his friend’s house drinking soju, or that the love of your life forgot about something so important. 

the second you got inside your apartment you practically ripped off the dress you were wearing, suddenly almost disgusted by the feel of it on your skin. your shoes joined soon after, and not even five minutes after getting back home you got changed into PJs (for once not being mingyu’s shirt), and poured yourself a glass of wine. 

“happy anniversary i quess.” 

when you were about to turn off all of the lights in the living room for the night, you heard the door open and close with much more force than needed. 

“baby? baby, where ar-,” he emerged from around the corner, stopping right in front of you. you took in his form - hair tousled from the wind, his shirt from practice still on, and shoes on his feet, which never happened - mingyu never wore shoes inside the house. huh, he must’ve been in a real hurry to get here. 

“i’m so sorry, i got here as quickly as possible,” he said, a little out of breath. you had to stop the urge to laugh in his face because what the hell? 

“too bad you didn’t bother to show up where you really were supposed to be, mingyu,” you snickered, anger radiating off of you. your boyfriend knew he was in deep shit the second seungcheol shot him a worried look, and how he would make it up to you, he had no idea. 

“i know, baby-,” 

“don’t call me that. you don’t deserve it mingyu,” you pointed a finger at his chest. just then he noticed you got your nails done to match the design on his tie, and he could swear he died a little bit at that moment. “do you have any idea how humiliated i felt sitting there like an idiot, waiting for my fucking boyfriend who decided to go out with his friends on our anniversary?” 

“i called your friends, your family. i thought you got into an accident for fucks sake,” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as you finally felt something else than just anger. the thought of losing mingyu wasn’t something you wanted to think about on your anniversary night. “i was so excited for this, and you knew it,” you took in a shaky inhale, once again feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.  

it took everything from you not to hug mingyu, he looked so… sad, and just so defeated, and that wasn’t something you were used to seeing on your boyfriend’s face. 

“there are a thousand excuses on my mind right now, but none of them will excuse my behaviour,” he sighed, his lower lip trembling. please don't cry, please don’t cry. “i forgot,” he said, straightening his back a little. “i simply forgot, and nothing i do will make up for it.” 

tears clouded your eyes, and you couldn’t help when they started falling down your cheeks, probably ruining the makeup you put so much effort into. if you knew you’d end up crying on your anniversary night you’d use a waterproof mascara. mingyu hesitantly raised his hand, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him, but when he saw you didn’t move an inch, he started wiping off the tears of your face with a gentle swipe of his thumb, almost as if you were about to fall apart. 

“say something. no, yell at me,” he said, and put your hand against his chest. “you can even hit me,” mingyu said, pleading in his eyes. “please, just do something.” 

“i don’t want to yell at you,” you sniffled, wiping off the rest of the tears yourself. “and i definitely don’t want to hit you. i just-,” you looked at him and only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes. did his face get slimmer too? “when was the last time you slept?”

he looked a bit taken aback by your question, considering he was begging you to hit him like a second ago. “to be honest, i don’t know, but i took some naps in the practice room. that’s not import-,”  

“when was the last time you ate?” you interrupted him again. 

his eyes softened because there was no way he just stood you up on one of the most important days of the year, and you were asking him about his well being. “i don't know.” 

i don’t know. hearing those words from a person who inhaled food like a vacuum, and could never say no to a snack broke your heart. how did you not notice how exhausted he was before? 

“oh, mingyu,” you said, tearing up again. “why didn’t you tell me, i would’ve brought you some food.” 

“i know, but i didn’t want to burden you. i knew i’d be fine,” he said, voice gentle. “besides, that’s not important now. let’s talk about how big of an asshole i am,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, tilting it more upwards. 

“how can you say it’s not important?” you murmured, nuzzling your face further into his palm. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you without food for longer than an hour.” 

“hey, i don’t eat that much,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, and seeing mingyu’s face lit up at your, albeit quiet, laughter, you felt the anger leaving you for good.  

maybe you were too selfish? all you lived for for the past week was the date, but in the process you managed to somehow miss how exhausted your boyfriend was. yes, he did forget, but he was so overworked lately, you couldn’t really blame him, right? and it wasn’t like you were a saint either, you missed some dates in the past too. 

“whatever you’re thinking, drop it,” he said sternly. “don’t try to make any excuses for me. i forgot, okay? it’s all my fault.” 

technically you knew you had every right to be furious at him, hell - an hour you cursed him out with every curse word you knew, but maybe it wasn't the time to think straight, and just give the light of your life a second chance. “i don’t want to fight,” you said, wrapping your hands around his wrists. “and we still have,” you looked over at the clock, “two hours before midnight. we have the wine, and i think i have a pizza in the freezer.” 

mingyu shook his head in disbelief. “there’s no way you’re real.” leaning in, he placed a peck on your cheek, filling your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling. “you look beautiful by the way,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. “i’m really sorry.” 

“i know, gyu. i know,” you whispered. “and mingyu?” 

“yeah?” 

“you can call me “baby” again.”

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[cherryredcheol]

matchy-matchy

tldr: match with me? a/n: i am embarrassed to admit how long it took me to come up with each of these

ot13 x reader

seungcheol: bracelets

except its one of those welded-on bracelets that you can only get off with some kind of tool that can cut through chain. he wanted you both to be reminded every day that your love was strong, unbreakable, permanent. the chain was dainty on both your wrists, barely noticeable, but still ever-present. ever the possessive guy, he liked having his mark on you. and he supposed a bracelet would do for now; until he gave you his last name. 

jeonghan: lego figurines

they’re minifigs and he had them custom-made to look like you, favorite outfits and everything. they’re on a little shelf that’s mounted to the wall. below the shelf are two little hooks, one for your keys and one for his. your keys go underneath your figure and his under his own. these minifigs were a gift for you very early on in the relationship. they’ve moved all over with you and now they’re part of your shared home. 

joshua: luggage

he brings you everywhere with him so it makes sense that your bags all match so you don’t draw suspicion. so what if he was pictured with a suitcase that has a my melody plush keychain on it? he’s man enough to admit he likes my melody, but really he likes you more and it’s easier that everything look the same. he doesn’t even have to think about it when grabbing a bag from the closet for each of you before heading on your next adventure together. 

junhui: ramen bowls

yes, you could hypothetically use this bowl for something other than ramen, but that would make it not special anymore and that just won’t do. it tickles both of you to no end to pull those bowls down from the cabinet and rifle through the silverware drawer for the matching chopsticks, all items printed with a delicate cherry blossom pattern. when the bowls were purchased the intention wasn’t even for them to become the bowls you use but its too late to look back now. 

soonyoung: water bottles

he dances and works out a lot, therefore he drinks a lot of water. he was going through plastic bottles of water like nobody’s business so you convinced him to get a reusable one. so he did, and he got you one to match! yours is black, inconspicuous. his is bright orange. the reasoning? they’re tiger colors, but subtle. why do you kind of agree with him?

wonwoo: phone wallpapers

they’re lowkey and you wouldn’t know they’re matching unless you saw them both side by side and noticed that the street light in both photos looks a little similar…the pictures are always from the walks you two go on in the middle of the night when it can be just you and him without the pressures of his career. some of your best moments together have come from those nights and the pictures are reminders of that. 

jihoon: slippers

the universe factory is cold, always. and yes, you keep an extra cozy blanket and hoodie in there but sometimes your feet get cold and your socks just aren’t enough. he must’ve noticed because there were suddenly two pairs of slippers by the door one day. when you asked about them, he just gestured vaguely and mumbled something about your feet. you’ll take it! they’re also not matching so much as they’re exactly the same. he claims this is for efficiency so he can wear either pair. cool, dude!

seokmin: sneakers

he has a lot of shoes. but his favorite pair are the ones that you bought together. they’re your favorite color and you each have a pair. you wear them together often, so smitten with each other it’s sickening. he always brings these sneakers on tour with him, whether you come too or not. its a win-win for him either way. he gets to match you from a close distance or from across the world. at least he knows he’s yours. 

mingyu: sunglasses

multiple pairs. every pair he buys himself, he also buys one for you. they're his favorite accessory and he looks oh so handsome in them so you never complain. your collection is slowly getting smaller though because he tends to break or lose things (sometimes both) and if it's a pair he really loved, he’ll ask with big puppy eyes if he can have the pair he bought for you. sometimes you tell him no just to see him pout.

minghao: manicures

oh, you’re going to get your nails done? he’s coming with, and paying. they don’t even have to be the same design or anything, they just have to go together. you don’t want a super complicated design like him? okay, cool. just get the same color. you went without him? fine, but what color is on your nails? it has to be the exact same as yours or else it doesn’t count. the colors may look similar but they’re not exactly the same polish? you might as well break up. 

seungkwan: phone cases

the design you chose has a little inside joke meaning to the two of you. no one even bothers asking the meaning behind the joke because they ‘wouldn’t get it’. your phone also has a different pc of him in it weekly (he changes it based on his mood) so your coworkers think you’re a super fan with your matching phone case and pc, obsessed with the idol on your phone. little do they know…

hansol: keychains

you have a miffy one, it's fuzzy.  he has a darth vader one, it’s lego. it kind of just appeared on your keychain one day and when you mentioned it to him he casually explained he put it there the other week. he fished through his pocket to show you his matching (?) keychain. the only explanation he gives? ‘it’s totally us,’ and how could you argue with that?

chan: stuffed animals

they’re dinosaurs, not dragons, thank you very much. and yes, they are therapeutically weighted to ease anxiety when placed on the chest. have a problem with that? i didn’t think so. these things go everywhere with you. if a car ride is longer than an hour, your green dinosaur is guaranteed to be there. he’s flying to tokyo? not without his passport and his little pink friend. show some respect! these are your kids!

[harrysmimi]

Finally Your Husband

Coffee And Pancakes series P16

Synopsis: YN and Harry tie the knots together in an intimate and private ceremony in Italy and they get to hear an amazing news.

Series Master list | More of My Work

YN was nervous.

She was on brink of having a breakdown. Everything was turning out to be so perfect yet everyone was giving her a big hard time.

The way her grandma wasn't attending was a cherry on top for her but her parents were attending. The way it was the people who loved and respected her boundaries and parents giving her a hard time taunting her every little choice. A few of her cousins were attending too, and most of them YN hated. It was just amazing and hell on earth at the same time. They were Harry's Italian villa where he proposed to her.

One of her cousin got drunk and almost tore his scrotum while dancing during one of the pre-wedding ceremonies. Niall was a real helper driving him to the nearest hospital. And two of her other cousins threw a fit of fight when they found out they were wearing the same outfit.

The pre wedding ceremonies were lowkey too. It was a whole week long spiel and a half.

"I don't know why I am nervous!" She whined on the phone with her soon to be husband, her eye welled up with tears. She was all ready and they were just fifteen minutes away from being married.

There was going to be two ceremonies back to back and long night of partying.

"Baby." Harry cooed, "just fifteen minutes okay?"

While he tried his best to assure her everything is going to be fine, it wasn't putting her at ease. Her life was about to change for good.

Just a few years ago she wasn't even interested in seeing anyone (she in fact hated the idea) and now here she is about to marry the love of her life. Everything between fear and pure ecstasy was just running in rounds in her head.

Harry was just two stories down from where she was but she couldn't go see him. YN was having a breakdown. She was nervous thinking what possibly could go wrong as everything has been so smooth sailing.

On the other hand, Harry was nervous indeed but he could manage himself. He had just gotten into his suit as he was done with his hair.

He got a call from Brielle, stating he need to go see his wife (soon-to-be) now. She was having a breakdown. He had quickly put on his coat and headed to where his wife-to-be was.

"Oh my god!" He whispered to himself as he saw her sitting there on the edge of the bed all ready and dolled up, she took his breath away. Even though she was crying. "Angel, you look breath taking!"

She was wearing a white lehenga, and covered in gorgeous jwellery, a soft makeup look with a bold lip.

And that made her son too. "I broke this." She showed him the chain he got her for one of her birthdays and she wanted to wear it as it was so special. It wasn't going to be visible with all the jewelry she was wearing, but still she'd know she is wearing it.

"Hey, it's alright my love." He cooed as he sat next to her. "It's alright. We can get that fixed."

"I wanted to wear it." She managed to whisper between her sobs. "You gave it to me on my birthday."

"I know, but-" he was cut off when YN's brother's wife, Jasmine came in with a sewing box.

"I knew this was going to be handy- oh Harry?" She was quite surprised. "I am sorry, I should have knocked but she is crying."

"No, it's fine." Harry assured her.

"Look we are going to fix it okay for now?" She took YN's necklace. Soon after her mother walked in as well. She helped Jasmine fix the necklace. They just tied the broken ends with a piece of things thread. It wasn't a permanent solution but it was going to work for now. "Come here let me put this on." Jasmine even put it on for her and even attempted to fix her makeup too.

Harry watched the way her mum looked at her. They both looked exactly the same he figured. He just wished she would have spoken with her then, he could tell she wanted to. She had tears in her eyes seeing her daughter as a bride. It just broke his heart a little.

"I will come and get you in a while. And Harry you probably have to be there in a few minutes too." Jasmine informed both, soon her and YN's mum left.

"Hey, you good?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I am sorry." She mumbled, "I think I'm about to get my period. I don't know why I am crying so much."

"Don't say that." He pulled her in for a hug, "you don't have to say that. It's a big day, and it's okay to feel this way."

"This is so overwhelming." She mumbled against his chest.

"I know, but it'll be alright. I'm right here with you, yeah?"

It had just been five minutes Harry had to go out as the ceremony would begin. First it was the traditional Indian way. And then it was Niall officiating their wedding. Everything went as smoothly as possible. Soon YN realised she was panicking for nothing everything was just perfect.

They both cried twice as she walked down the aisle twice.

"You may kiss your bride, Harold." Niall announced as he stepped away.

Harry was quick to pull his wife in as he picked her lips gently before he got her in a bear hug. YN wrapped her arms around him

Her husband has been by her side for the entire day. It was time for their first dance.

"I can't believe we are married now." She said they both swayed to the soft music playing.

Harry leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Mhmm. I am finally your husband."

"Yeah? I am your wife now." She couldn't help but smile sheepishly at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He got flustered seeing her watch him with love heart eyes.

"Can you kiss me?" She asked.

"You know I will." With that he pressed his lips on hers, not shying away that her parents and brother are present there like they used to. She's his woman now and he is her man. "I love you so much!"

"I love you so much!" She reciprocated.

The rest of the night was flawless. Niall and Zayn got drunk off their arse as they danced to Gasolina for the fifth time. The food was amazing.

"You're not going to have anything to drink?" YN asked her husband.

"No, I am done. Had a glass of wine." He shared as he pulled her closer to his side as he watched his former band mates dance like idiots. "Want to stay present." He pressed a kiss on her head.

"Awh!" She cooed.

"Come on guys!" Gemma pulled them both to the dance floor, she was halfway hammered too there. They had a very fun night.

Harry was still on the dance floor as YN retrieved back feeling tired as her adrenaline started to wear off slowly but surely. Her husband wasn't drunk but he was having fun like his friends if not more.

Soon people started leaving to go back to their accommodations and it was just the close family left there to clean up a bit before everyone headed back. As it was Harry's (now theirs) villa all the bride and groom had to do was walking up the stairs to their bedroom.

It was all decorated with pretty candles and flowers. "Oh see the mood is already set for us." Harry announced as he hugged his wife from behind. "To be honest, this wasn't needed I had my eye on you since this morning." He had been worked up all night, actually all day. She looked absolutely dead drop gorgeous in that dress and she is wife now. That all together new feeling.

YN was quick to turn around in his arms. "Yeah?"

"Mhmm." He nodded and pecked her lips gently.

"This is going to be a big hassle to get out of." She reminded him that she is wearing a Lehenga with hundreds if not thousands of pins holding it together.

"Don't worry we have all the time in the world." He assured her as his hand went up her back behind her Chunni as he tugged onto the string of her blouse.

On a serious note, he did help her get out of the heavy outfit. They had a great laugh as it kept tugging on one thing or another. YN finally got out of the lehenga. He was also just in his trousers by now.

"You were wearing sweat pants underneath that the white day?" Harry giggled.

"Yes! And I was still cold." She pouted as she took off her bangles as she was sat on the bathroom counter.

"Awh, my baby!" He cooed, "let's hand this up, yeah?" He nicely hung up the fit on the designated hanger carefully and hung it over the bathroom door. "Now where were we." He went back to her, stepping between her legs.

"Where were we?" She placed the last of the bangles she took off in their designated box as she looked up at him.

"I'd rather show you." With his arms wrapped around her waist he picked her back and walked back to their bed. She laughed feeling his fingers dig into her side tickling her. He gently placed her on the bed as hovered over her pressing his mouth to hers. His hands wandered on her back to unhook her blouse she still had on. "This okay?"

"Yes." She nodded, her hands on his hips as he helped her out of the blouse that's when she noticed the bulge. She was quick to unbuckle his belt and get rid of his pants.

"No let me do the work now." He stopped her, reaching down to the waist band of her sweats and sliding them down with her panties. He got down on his knees as his lips left a trail of soft and eager kisses down her neck to her stomach to her inner thighs. YN let out a soft moan as she felt his mouth on her, his tongue teasing her bud.

Soon enough she was pulling him back to her, he was quick to press his mouth on hers. Her juices are still on his mouth as he pushes his tongue in her mouth, flawlessly dominating over their very heated moment.

"I want your cock in me now." She demanded, propping herself up on her elbows.

He chuckled softly as he undid his trousers and took off his boxers. "Very demanding, aren't we?" He was back on top of her. He lines his tip against her weeping hole as he pushes inside her with ease. "Can never get over the feeling of your pussy on my cock, baby!" He groans softly with his forehead on hers.

YN just let out a soft moan holding onto his shoulders. "Want it to be soft this time." She whispered.

"Mhmmm." He agrees moaning as he could feel her walls pulsing around him.

"Fuck! Right there!" She gasped feeling his cock plunging in her softly yet firmly.

"Yeah, you like it baby?" He looked at her before pecking her lips, earning a nod of satisfaction from her. "That's it baby, lay back and relax. Gonna take care of my wife!"

YN laid back on bed. Harry was quick enough to grab the pillow for her before she rested her head back, not forgetting to keep on with his slow and firm thrusts. Dipping his head down he latched his mouth on her hardened nipple, whilst his hand was busy kneading the other making her back arch.

"Oh yes!" She moaned softly again, gasping for air as she floated away in pleasure.

"Oh yes baby, you gonna cum?" He looked at her again.

"Yeah. I want you to cum in me." She requested. This isn't the first time.

"Yeah? You want me to cum in you baby?" He said getting his hand down to rub her clit making her jolt in surprise.

"Yes please!" She sighed.

"Yeah, almost there baby, urgh!" He thrusts were getting harder and harder as he couldn't hold it back, feeling her pulsing harder around him. Soon he was releasing his load in her pussy with the last few thrusts. "Fuck that was amazing!" He chuckled, still inside her.

"Yeah." She pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you so much Harry!"

"I love you so much!" He kissed again. Rolling over he pulled her in closer. "We are finally married."

"Mhmm." She nodded, looking at him with tired yet love-heart eyes. "We're married now, I can't wait to grow old with you!"

"Yeah? I promise I will love you even after we're seventy." He mumbled softly against her forehead before pressing another kiss on her skin. It was a joke as they danced to Thinking Out Loud by Ed, making her giggling.

"Oh you better!" She warned him.

"You know I will, baby!" He pushes back to look at her, "do you want to get cleaned up and go to sleep?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Harry was quick enough to help her get cleaned and helped her get into one of his t-shirts before they were off to bed.

.......................................................................

Harry woke up feeling super hot for some reason, he back was all sweaty as YN slept closer to him, her face buried in his back.

"Baby?" Harry carefully turned around and moved closer to her wife who was still asleep but shivering and burning up. That was enough to get him out of sleep in an instance. "Baby, you alright?"

"Hmmm?" She sounded.

"You're burning up my love." He whispered.

"Yeah I am cold. I just want to sleep." She mumbled. The worst thing about her was how she managed to sleep through fever.

"Let's go see a doctor first, yeah?" He suggested, "you can sleep when we get back."

"Can we go later?" She mumbled again, pulling the blanket over her mouth and curling up even more.

"Babe, come on now. You're burning up." He insisted, "I promise we'll make it as quick as possible, yeah?"

"I- fine we'll-." She ran off to the toilet and started throwing up.

"Oh no." Harry mumbled as he rushed to her and held her hair back and rubbed her back. "It's alright sweetheart. We'll go see a doctor."

Harry was quick to drive her to the nearest hospital, they were asked to wait luckily there was no rush there and they got in without an appointment. The doctor did a basic physical exam.

"Have you eaten anything recently which might upset your stomach?" The doctor asked as he documented in his computer.

"No, I have been eating healthy for our wedding." YN explained.

"Oh congratulations!" The doctor smiled, "don't worry we'll look into it. Have you tried taking a pregnancy test?"

"Not recently." YN shrugged, suddenly feeling anxious as she looked at her husband. "But I'd be open to one if we can do it here."

"Sure." The doctor nodded. "We'll also get the blood work done if necessary too."

"Yeah. Thank you." YN nodded.

Soon enough a nurse guided the couple to a room where YN can take the pregnancy test in privacy. She was nervous and she was already crying.

"It's okay baby." Harry tried his best to calm her down as they waited for the longest five minutes. "What does it say?"

"It's positive." She started sobbing.

"Oh my god!" He was quick to pull her in the tightest hug ever.

"We're going to be Mummy and Papa!" She mumbled as she sobbed.

"Yeah!" Harry rocked her side to side in excitement.

That was the happiest moment of YN's life there but she was still burning up with fever. Doctor gave her some mild medicines to take and advised her to rest as much as she can.

That's exactly what Harry made her do. He drove her back home to their Villa. Made her feel all comfy as he fixed her a quick meal.

They postponed their honeymoon until YN feels better and is fit to travel and spend their time in and resting and taking in the news.

......................................................................

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrihana @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[winterarmyy]

Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of. 

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point).  And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that she must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find an answer to a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind. 

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again. 

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn.  Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection  and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling."  He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done,  she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her  below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice,  he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face,  "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper.  "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly.  She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

[jaehaeryshater]

England’s Pearl and Their Beloved Queen

Mary I and Katherine of Aragon by @francy-sketches

Guys. I have not been so excited for a commission in my life. I know it’s not ASOIAF so definitely not as anticipated among my friends, but it’s just so well done. I adore Katherine and Mary and this turned out so beautifully. I cannot sing Francy’s praises high enough; after the initial reference pictures I sent her, I did not need to correct anything at all, she completely got the vision.

As anyone who has ever encountered me before will have known, I am incredibly particular about commissions and therefore very involved. I usually like to give pieces I pay for extra thought and historical authenticity. For this piece, I went and looked for available quotes and contemporary accounts of Katherine’s fashion choices. I wanted to make sure from the base of the dress (the farthingale underneath) to the jewelry were all as accurate as was reasonably possible. I did even learn a thing or two, despite my initial intention of just checking to make sure everything I had previously believed was true. For example, I learned that Katherine sometimes wore a flemish hood, which I wouldn’t have thought that would align with her fashion sense; I was proven wrong. I have seen practically all the artworks available to the public that have been confirmed to be Katherine, so I had already guessed black was her favorite color to wear. But I did learn that her other favorites were purple and red. I decided to keep it simple with the black. It’s elegant and regal, black was an expensive color but still is not obnoxiously ostentatious. The jewels around her neckline as taken directly from portraits of her. The pearls seem a mainstay for her, but I did learn that her dresses had many other colored jewels tied into them. I just thought black looked the best. Her dresses were fur-lined, although I would definitely say we took some liberties on what the fur looked. The fur she wore was pretty much exclusively ermine. The sleeves also have true gold, which Spanish royalty traditionally loved (for hundreds of years, by this point, at least). Katherine’s Spanish outfits, of which she had many, definitely collected dust in favor of more traditional English outfits. There’s no indication that she was forced into this, as she did sometimes dress in the Spanish style when it struck her fancy, but it was important for her to present herself as English with English loyalties and priorities in mind. That being said, something as innocuous as gold embroidery, which was not completely foreign to the English court, was definitely something she could implement from back home without seeming like a foreigner. I have pomegranate embroidery on her sleeves, which is more of symbolism rather than something accurate. There’s no proof she ever wore pomegranate embroidery on her sleeve, but her official symbol was of a pomegranate, so I figure that was something important to her.

Katherine’s necklace is obviously a direct copy of the necklace she wears in several of the contemporary artworks depicting. This is pure speculation, but I personally believe that this necklace could have come from old English jewels that had been melted down and repurposed for her. Generally, people weren’t as sentimental in the same way we are today, nor worried about these aspects of preservation, so jewels were melted down and used for other purposes all the time. She also usually wore many strings of pearls, but it just would have looked like too much and would take away from the piece overall, so we decided just to do the necklace. Her gabled hood is also directly taken from her contemporary portraits, the gold and black with the red jewels was what she usually wore. She has a girdle belt with a long string of pearls. Sometimes she would wear a cross at the end or some black jewels that matched her necklace. What’s depicted in this is actually a pomander that turns into a rudimentary clock when it is opened. Katherine is recorded as having one of these; I thought that was very cool. I also asked for her to have some rings. She did have a wedding ring, but I found no description of it, so the artist just did basic gold. She’s wearing two which I think is pretty funny considering she was married twice, of course she wouldn’t have worn two wedding rings, but imagine if she did have the audacity to. Katherine had so much jewelry, more than any of Henry VIII’s wives. She had the royal collection available to her, pieces from Spain, and gifts from Henry specifically made for her. She usually decked herself out as expensively as possible.

Unfortunately, there is basically no information on how Mary dressed as a child. We know her mother dressed her and was having the clothes ordered herself, but beyond that, there’s really nothing available that I could find. I felt that Mary would be dressed similarly to her mother, but I wanted to give her a purple dress because purple fabric was generally the most expensive thing you could buy. I wanted to illustrate how loved and well taken care of she was. She has matching rings with her mother, but no girdle belt or necklace because I’m envisioning her as being 6-9 in this, so I wanted to give her something she could play in. She’s wearing a French hood. Katherine ordered her one in 1520, when she was four. My references on how hers should look is from portraits of her aunts Mary and Juana. I felt that Katherine would probably want to buy a style she was familiar with. Mary’s embroidery is of the Tudor rose. It turned out so beautifully. Similarly to Katherine, there’s no evidence that she actually wore that embroidery, but I wanted some symbolism in there.

My intention with this piece was to show the closeness between Katherine and Mary. Katherine loved Mary with all her heart and showed no outward indication of disappointment that Mary was a girl. She spent more time with Mary than any other highborn individual in this time period that I know of. I wanted to show that Katherine is someone that Mary deeply and completely trusted, even when court could be over the top and crowded, frightening for a child. I feel as if people other themselves from people in the past. People often feel as if people 500 years ago did not care as deeply about their children or weren’t attached to them. I believe this is true in some instances, but generally we are more like the people of the past than we like the believe. As far as any research I’ve done has shown, Katherine loved Mary as much as any mother of our time loves her children.

I believe Francy did a beautiful job, so all compliments go to her, I hope everyone checks out her page to see her amazing work. The caliber of this is unlike the commissions I’ve done in the past. I cannot thank her enough.

I hope this ended up being relatively historically accurate, I’m sure someone will let me know if it’s not haha.

[weneeya]

Third years in haikyuu reacting to reader dressing up all pretty ?

pretty for you

m.list | rules

pairing. karasuno's third years x fem!reader

characters. daichi, sugawara, asahi, kiyoko

note. yes yes yes, i want to write this (i assumed it was karasuno's third years) and ofc i included kiyoko bc i love women sm <3

⎯ Sawamura Daichi

When you told him you would be late, he almost immediately started to panic. Were you okay? Did you have any problems? He thought you would have told him if anything was wrong, but he could not help it, he was way too protective of you. Daichi always needed to be sure that you were doing fine and that nothing was troubling you too much. 

He was trying to reassure himself when he heard your voice calling his name from behind his back. He turned around in no time, and froze the second after he saw you. You were so pretty. He always thought you looked pretty, of course, but today? It was even more. He took a step closer to you, noticing the way you seemed to be panicking a bit about his silence. 

Daichi gently took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips so he could leave a soft kiss against the back of it. “You look amazing.” He told you, and his warm smile eased all of your worries. You smiled softly, glad that he liked the effort you made for him. 

“Sorry for the lateness, I just wanted to look perfect,” you explained to him, and he chuckled a little at your words. You really were adorable, nothing would change that and he knew it. 

“Don’t worry, you can be late all you want if you look this great.” You felt your cheeks burning slightly at his words, and he took your hand in his larger one.

⎯ Sugawara Koushi

You were just supposed to chill out at Suga’s place, nothing more. He wanted to show you something apparently, and you could not wait to see what it was. You did not really know why, but you wanted to make some more efforts to look especially pretty today. Perhaps you needed it, to be told compliments. 

You knocked at his door, and he opened it in no time. He was all too excited to be seeing you. When his eyes laid on your figure, they moved up and down to take a better look at your outfit. They lingered a bit longer on your face, before a smile appeared on his lips. 

“You’re so pretty. Is that for me?” He asked, and you cleared your throat while looking away. You nodded softly, which made his smile grow a bit wider. He quickly took your hand, closing the door of his room behind him. “What are you doing?” You asked him, a bit surprised. 

“No way we’re staying here when you look this pretty! I want the world to see how gorgeous my girlfriend is.” And you swore you felt your whole body melting at his words.

⎯ Asahi Azumane

He was always so nervous when he was seeing you alone. It made no sense, because you two were together, and he knew you were the most sincere and sweet person he ever met in his life. Yet, he couldn't help but feel stressed every time. It was in his nature after all. It was a force which was stronger than him. 

He arrived late because of his bus, and it made him even more nervous because he did not want to make you wait too long alone outside. When Asahi finally arrived, his eyes almost immediately locked on your figure. 

You always looked pretty. You were probably the prettiest girl he ever met in his whole life, and he was not even exaggerating. But your outfit made you look even prettier ; and the way you tied your hair? He swore he could have faint right here and right now, in the middle of the street. 

He walked to you quickly, not wanting to make you wait even more than it was already the case. He cleared his throat, and you looked at him with the softest smile on Earth. How could he not be a nervous mess with you around? He sighed slowly, easing himself down as you wrapped your arm around his. 

“Do you like how I dressed today?” You asked him, and he immediately looked at you with a smile. Did you really expect him to say no? He could not believe it. 

“You’re gorgeous, really. I almost fell down back there when I saw you from afar.” His words made you chuckle a bit, and he did the same when he heard you. You really were the best at soothing him down after all.

⎯ Kiyoko Shimizu

She was the prettiest girl you knew. She looked so good in everything, all the time, and you could never understand how it was possible. So when you two decided to go out to do some shopping together, you decided that you wanted to try to be as pretty as her. You did not want her to go out with someone not as good as her. 

Kiyoko was not the most expressive girl, and you knew it well. You did not dress up for her to say anything, but you secretly hoped she would love the way you looked for her today. You were both sitting at a cafe, drinking something hot to warm yourselves up. 

“You really are pretty today. I like the way it looks on you.” She said out of nowhere, after she put her cup down on the table. You almost choked on air, before you looked up at her with your cheeks burning. 

“You think so..?” You asked, a bit hesitant, and she met your eyes. The way she looked at you meant everything, but she still replied so you would not doubt her words. “Of course I do. You’re always pretty though, don’t worry about it.” 

You could not restrain the light smile that appeared on your lips as she reassured you so easily, making your heart race and your stomach do flips. She really was doing so much efforts for you, and it made you so happy.

thank you for reading!!

[fluffylino]

hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)

-contains mature themes

your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.

ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.

he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.

quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.

right next to your standing figure.

you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.

he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.

two days ago. the both of you had an argument.

it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.

of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.

you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.

it read :

"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.

- :] "

he seemed to take it seriously.

in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.

of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.

but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.

washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.

almost like a attention deprived puppy.

today though was different.

you looking forward to his next attempt.

the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.

except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.

you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.

he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.

his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-

was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?

you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.

you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.

making you want to pounce on him.

shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.

you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.

was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.

the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.

you wanted to take him right there and then.

in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.

and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.

like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.

"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.

"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.

"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.

"m'sorry"

you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.

god, he was so cute.

.

.

"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.

"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.

the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.

lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.

his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.

"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.

"y-yes...always at your service"

you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.

"anything for you m-master"

"anything? careful what you wish for baby"

"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"

.

..

.

i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?

[rafeskai]

Starstruck | Drew Starkey

Chapter Three

Summary: In the bustling crowd of a premiere event for Outer Banks, you find yourself caught up in a chaotic moment, lost in the sea of fans. Desperate for a way out, you stumble into an alley where fate leads you to an unexpected—and painful—encounter with Drew Starkey. What starts as a simple misstep soon spirals into something far more complicated, and your life takes an unexpected turn.

Pairings: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE OMG. HERE'S A LONG CHAPTER FOR Y'ALL.

Masterlist Here

The faint buzz of your phone woke you before the sun had fully risen. Groggily, you reached for it, expecting some random notification or perhaps an email that could wait. But as you squinted at the screen, Ava’s name popped up, her message in all caps: “CHECK TMZ NOW.”

You rubbed your eyes and mumbled, “What?” It was too early for any kind of drama, but Ava rarely texted in all caps unless it was something urgent—or, more likely, celebrity gossip. Your curiosity finally nudged you to open your browser and type in the site’s name.

The headline on TMZ’s homepage made your stomach drop:

“DREW STARKEY SPOTTED WITH MYSTERIOUS WOMAN”

Your breath hitched as you clicked on the article. There it was: a grainy photo of Drew and you, blurry but unmistakably you. Your heart pounded in your chest. The mask you’d been wearing at the bar covered most of your face, and the dim lighting made it difficult to make out any details. But the white tank top, courtesy of Ava’s insistent styling, was unmistakable.

The article buzzed with speculation.

“Who’s the masked woman spotted with Drew Starkey last night? The Outer Banks star was seen leaving an intimate LA hotspot with an unidentified companion. Sources say the two appeared comfortable and spent several hours together inside the bar. Could this be Drew’s latest flame? Or just a casual night out? Our team are on the case!”

Your stomach churned. You scrolled through the comments section.

“Another mysterious nobody who’ll ghost him in two weeks, I bet.”

“Imagine being her. I’d die to just breathe the same air as Drew Starkey.”

“The way she’s covering her face... suspicious much?”

“She’s definitely hiding something. Maybe she’s married?”

A few deep breaths later, you set your phone down, but the sense of dread didn’t leave. Before you could even collect your thoughts, Ava burst into your room, her messy hair looking like a halo of chaos.

“Y/N!” she squeaked, waving her phone around frantically. “You’re famous.”

You groaned, falling back onto the futon. “No, I’m not. No one even knows it’s me.”

“They will,” Ava said with way too much enthusiasm. “TMZ doesn’t just let this go. They’ll start connecting the dots—who was at the premiere, who’s wearing that outfit in public, and eventually, they’ll figure it out. It’s only a matter of time.”

You ran your hands through your hair. “I’m never wearing that outfit again.”

Ava ignored you, pacing back and forth. “Look, we have two options. One: deny everything, keep your head down, and hope the internet finds someone else to obsess over. Or two: lean into it. You’re the enigmatic mystery woman. Milk it for all it’s worth.”

You shot her a flat look. “Option two isn’t happening.”

“Fine, fine,” Ava said with a dramatic sigh, flopping onto the futon next to you. “But come on! You have to admit, it’s kind of cool. You’re the first non-celebrity girl to pop up in Drew Starkey’s dating rumors without getting immediately torn apart. That means something.”

“Yeah,” you muttered, rubbing your temples, “it means I have to be extra careful. I don’t want my life blasted all over the internet.”

“Don’t worry,” Ava reassured you, her hand resting gently on your shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. And honestly? If Drew’s as decent as he seemed, he won’t let this get weird.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later that afternoon, as you sat in the corner of your room, your phone buzzed again. This time, the name on the screen made your heart skip: Drew.

Drew: “Hey, you good? Saw the TMZ thing. Sorry if this is overwhelming. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

You stared at his message for a moment, a mix of relief and panic flooding you. You could feel the weight of the situation pressing down. Part of you wanted to brush it off, pretend it wasn’t a big deal. But another part of you—the one that was still a little overwhelmed by the chaos—was grateful for his words of concern.

You: “I’m fine. Just... not used to this. Do you deal with this kind of thing a lot?”

Drew: “More than I’d like, yeah. But it usually blows over fast. People move on to the next headline. If you need me to talk to PR or anything, I can.”

You winced at the thought of involving PR—public statements, press releases—it all felt too formal, too... invasive.

You: “I don’t think it’s necessary. As long as they don’t figure out it’s me, I’ll survive.”

There was a pause before Drew’s response came through.

Drew: “If it helps, you’re handling this way better than I did the first time TMZ came for me. If you need to vent or just want a distraction, hit me up.”

His offer to just talk made you smile. You weren’t entirely sure what to say back, so you typed a quick reply, thanking him for the message, and then set your phone down.

As the day wore on, things quieted down. TMZ didn’t update the story, and the internet’s attention began to shift. Without a clear shot of your face or any definitive details about your identity, people started to lose interest. But that didn’t mean it was over for you. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The day crawled forward, each passing hour a mix of relief and unease. It seemed TMZ's interest in Drew’s “mystery woman” had dwindled without a fresh lead to stoke the flames. By early evening, the frenzy online was noticeably quieter.

Still, the tension in the air lingered, like a storm that had passed but left the skies unsettled.

Ava had mercifully stopped treating the situation like a red-carpet event. She sat cross-legged on the living room floor, scrolling aimlessly through her phone while munching on a bag of popcorn. You paced nearby, trying to shake off the knot of nerves in your stomach.

Then your phone buzzed. It was Drew again.

Drew: “Can I come over for a bit? Just got done with a photoshoot and paparazzi are everywhere outside my place, and I need to lay low for a while.”

Your heart leapt at the thought of him showing up at your apartment—your quiet, nondescript little corner of the city suddenly becoming a refuge for Drew Starkey. You glanced at Ava, who raised an eyebrow as she noticed your sudden stillness.

You: “Yeah, sure. How are you going to get here without being seen?”

Drew: “I’ll figure it out. I know a back way in. Just text me your address.”

You hesitated for a moment, then sent the details. It wasn’t long before he replied.

Drew: “Be there in 15. Thanks, by the way.”

The next 15 minutes passed in a blur. You hurriedly cleared the living room of any clutter, your nerves bubbling into a chaotic energy. Ava, meanwhile, perched on the couch with a dazed grin, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

When the soft knock finally came at the door, your pulse quickened. Ava bolted upright, her excitement palpable. “This is it,” she whispered, clutching the couch cushion like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

You opened the door, and there he was—Drew, in a plain hoodie and baseball cap, looking like any regular guy. He offered a small smile, his eyes scanning the hallway before stepping inside.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem,” you replied, closing the door behind him. “Figured you could use some peace.”

Ava, standing awkwardly by the couch, let out a shaky laugh. “Hi. Um. Wow. Hi.”

Drew chuckled, clearly used to this reaction but handling it with grace. “Hey. You must be Ava.”

She nodded rapidly, then promptly sat back down, her face bright red. Drew turned to you, his smile warm but tired. “I hope I’m not imposing.”

“Not at all,” you said, motioning for him to sit. “Make yourself at home.”

As he settled onto the couch, Ava finally seemed to snap out of her starstruck trance—at least a little. “Do you need anything? Water? Snacks? I have... popcorn?” she offered, holding up the bag as if it were a peace offering.

Drew smiled. “Popcorn sounds great, actually.”

Ava handed over the bag, then promptly excused herself to the kitchen under the guise of making tea, though you suspected she just needed a moment to compose herself. That left you and Drew alone in the living room.

“So,” he said, leaning back slightly. “How’s your day been? Any more chaos?”

You laughed softly. “Thankfully, no. The internet seems to be moving on. I think we’re in the clear.”

“That’s good,” he said, popping a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. “I feel bad for dragging you into this.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, sitting down on the armchair across from him. “It’s not like you invited TMZ to follow you.”

He gave a wry smile. “Still, I appreciate you being so cool about it. Most people would be freaking out.”

“I think Ava freaked out enough for both of us,” you joked, glancing toward the kitchen. Drew laughed, the sound light and genuine, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension in the room ease.

Over the next hour, the conversation flowed surprisingly easily. Drew talked about his hectic schedule, his favorite low-key spots in LA, and a few funny on-set stories that had you laughing until your sides hurt. Ava eventually returned, having calmed down enough to join in without squealing every time Drew spoke.

As the evening wore on, the initial awkwardness faded entirely. Drew’s presence felt natural—like he belonged there, sitting on your couch, sharing popcorn and swapping stories. It was almost too easy to forget who he was, how absurd this situation really was.

At one point, Ava let out a dramatic yawn and stretched. “I’m gonna call it a night,” she said, giving you a not-so-subtle wink before retreating to her room.

That left you and Drew alone again, the apartment quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. He leaned back against the couch, his gaze soft as he looked at you.

“Thanks again for letting me crash here,” he said. “I really needed a break from... all of it.”

You smiled. “Anytime. Seriously. It’s nice having company.”

He held your gaze for a moment, and you felt a flutter of something unspoken pass between you. Then he grinned, breaking the moment. “Well, if TMZ ever finds out about this, at least I’ll have a great story to tell.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The evening stretched on, a slow dance of easy conversation and laughter. It felt surreal—Drew Starkey, the star of Outer Banks and Queer, sitting in your living room, eating popcorn and talking about his favorite movies like any regular person. But the longer he stayed, the more normal everything felt. He wasn’t a celebrity in this space. He was just Drew, the guy sitting across from you, making you laugh and sharing little bits of his world.

Ava had retreated to her room after her not-so-subtle hint about bedtime, leaving you and Drew alone in the living room. You didn’t mind—it gave you the space to talk without interruptions, to get to know each other a little more.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Drew said after a pause, setting the popcorn down on the coffee table and shifting slightly on the couch. “What do you do when you’re not dealing with... all of this?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the way he gestured vaguely around the room “Nothing nearly as exciting as your life, that’s for sure.”

He smiled, his eyes softening. “I’m sure that’s not true, although it’s definitely a different world, being in the spotlight like this.” He paused for a moment, his tone thoughtful. “I think people forget that celebrities are just people, you know?”

“I think people forget that about anyone, really,” you said with a shrug. “Everyone’s got their own thing going on. Whether you’re famous or not, it’s all the same. We all have our struggles, our ups and downs.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, nodding. “I think that’s what I miss most sometimes. Just... being able to go out without feeling like everyone’s watching, analyzing your every move.”

You looked at him, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t really considered how strange it must be to live under that kind of constant scrutiny. You found yourself wanting to offer him something more than just sympathy. “You don’t have to be ‘Drew Starkey’ tonight,” you said gently. “You’re just... Drew. And I’m just me. No TMZ, no cameras, no headlines.”

His smile returned, a little softer this time. “I like that. I really like that.”

The conversation drifted effortlessly from one topic to another. You talked about favorite childhood memories, your go-to comfort foods, and the last book you’d both read. He listened with an openness that made you feel like you could share just about anything, and the more you spoke, the more at ease you became.

Drew revealed little snippets about his life that were both surprising and comforting. Like how he had a weird obsession with vintage comic books or how, despite being a well-known actor, he still had the same group of friends he’d had since high school. You learned he was surprisingly humble, almost self-deprecating at times, and he had this way of laughing at himself that made him even more relatable.

“You ever go to concerts?” you asked after a moment, trying to steer the conversation toward something lighter.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Oh, I love concerts. I try to hit up a few whenever I can. Nothing like live music, right?”

“Right,” you agreed, smiling back. “There’s just something about the energy in the air. It’s like everyone’s in the same vibe.”

“I’m a sucker for the energy,” Drew said with a nod. “What’s your favorite genre? Or are you more of a ‘whatever’s on’ type?”

“Definitely more of a whatever’s on type,” you said, laughing. “I like a little bit of everything. But I do have a soft spot for indie rock. You?”

“Indie rock, too,” he said without hesitation. “I swear, I could spend hours listening to bands you’ve never heard of and not even care.”

“That’s the best part, though. The discovery,” you said. “I love finding those hidden gems. The stuff that feels like it’s just yours.”

“I totally get that,” Drew agreed, and there was something about the way he said it—like he really meant it—that made you smile. It was nice, sharing something like that with someone, especially someone you’d barely known just a few hours ago.

As the night wore on, the conversation became less about anything significant and more about just... being. The silence that fell between you wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that happens when you’re with someone you trust, someone you don’t feel the need to fill every moment with words.

You glanced over at the clock on the wall and realized it was past midnight. You yawned, your body starting to feel the effects of the long, unexpected day.

“I think I’m about ready for bed,” you said, stretching a little.

Drew chuckled. “Yeah, me too. It’s been a long day.”

“Thanks for hanging out,” you added, not sure if it sounded too casual, but it felt right. “It’s been nice—just, you know, talking and not worrying about anything.”

Drew smiled, his expression sincere. “Yeah, it’s been nice. Really nice. I’m glad I could... hide out here for a while.”

You grinned. “Anytime.”

He stood up from the couch, stretching his legs. “Well, I guess I should let you get some rest. You’ve probably had enough of me by now.”

“Not at all,” you said, standing as well. “But I think I’m gonna crash before I regret it.”

“Fair enough,” Drew said, his voice warm. “Sleep well, Y/N.”

“You too, Drew. And thanks, again,” you said quietly.

With a final smile, Drew grabbed his hoodie and headed toward the door, turning back for one last glance.

“Goodnight,” he said, before stepping out into the night, leaving you standing there, a feeling of warmth spreading through you.

As you made your way back to your room, you realized just how much you’d enjoyed the unexpected company, the quiet conversation, the sense of connection with someone who, for a few hours, was just like you. No drama, no paparazzi—just two people talking about life.

You crawled into bed, your thoughts swirling with everything that had happened, the night’s laughter still echoing softly in your mind. And for the first time that day, you felt... peaceful.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The next morning, you woke up to a quiet, almost peaceful stillness. The events of the previous day felt like a dream—Drew in your living room, hanging out like any other person, sharing stories and laughter. The time spent with him had left you feeling light, surprisingly at ease considering everything that had happened. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d spent an entire night without feeling the weight of your worries, the world of social media, or the endless noise in your head.

You sat up, stretching, and reached for your phone. The screen lit up with a message from Drew.

Drew: "Hey, hope you slept well. I know we just met, but I was wondering if you’d be up for an adventure today. I’ve got a couple days left in LA before work picks back up, and I could use a break from the usual."

Your heart skipped a beat. An adventure? Just the two of you? The idea was tempting, and, honestly, you hadn’t expected him to reach out so soon after everything that had happened. But there was something about his message that felt... genuine. Like he just wanted to spend time with you, not because of the headlines or the drama, but because you’d connected.

You chewed on your lip for a moment, debating the logistics. It was sudden, but at the same time, it felt like a chance to break away from the chaos, to have a normal, carefree day. Maybe that’s exactly what you needed.

You typed back quickly, the excitement creeping in.

You: "I’m in. What do you have in mind?"

A few minutes later, his reply came through, and you couldn’t help but grin.

Drew: "Perfect. How about we start with a hike? I’ve heard this great spot in the hills with a killer view of the city. We can grab breakfast after and see where the day takes us. No paparazzi, no drama—just a chance to be outside for a bit."

You could almost hear his grin through the text, and you found yourself feeling a little giddy. It had been forever since you’d just wandered, no plans, no expectations.

You: "That sounds perfect. What time do you want to meet?"

Drew: "How about 9? Gives us a little time to get our bearings, but still plenty of daylight. I’ll pick you up at your place."

You: "Deal. I’ll be ready."

The exchange left you buzzing with excitement. There was something about this—a spontaneous day with Drew, exploring LA without the pressure of anything. Just... living in the moment.

You quickly jumped out of bed, got dressed, and packed a small bag with the essentials: water, sunscreen, a hat—anything that would make the day more enjoyable. As you glanced in the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. It was one thing to hang out with Drew at your place, but hiking? A day out in the open? You weren’t sure what to expect, but you figured you’d roll with it.

A few hours later, the knock on your door jolted you from your thoughts. You opened it to find Drew standing there, dressed casually in a t-shirt, athletic shorts, and sneakers, his hair slightly windblown as if he’d already been out for a little while. He was holding a water bottle in one hand, a wide, genuine smile on his face.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his eyes glinting with the same excitement you felt bubbling inside.

You grinned back, nodding. “I think so. Lead the way.”

He chuckled and gestured for you to follow him down to the car, where the day’s adventure would begin.

The drive was surprisingly calm, with Drew playing some laid-back tunes and chatting about random things—his love of LA's hidden gems, how he’d gotten into hiking recently, and how crazy it was that he was actually getting a few days to relax between filming schedules. You felt yourself easing into the rhythm of the day, his presence comfortable, easy.

As you reached the trailhead, you couldn’t help but stare at the sprawling view of the city below, the sprawling landscape unfolding in front of you like something out of a postcard. The hills were quiet, a peaceful escape from the noise of LA.

Drew turned to you with a playful grin. “Ready to get your steps in?”

You raised an eyebrow, matching his grin. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

And so, the two of you set off, the trail winding upward through trees and rocky paths, the air crisp with morning freshness. The conversation flowed easily between you both, sometimes serious, sometimes silly. You talked about your favorite movies, shared memories of childhood adventures, and joked about the ridiculousness of modern-day life, social media, and the constant pressure to perform.

The higher you climbed, the more the city seemed to disappear, swallowed by the dense trees and distant mountains. You took breaks along the way, sitting on rocks and chatting, letting the quiet calm of nature seep into your bones. There was something so refreshing about being away from it all, away from the spotlight and the noise, and just sharing these small, human moments.

After a few hours, you finally reached the summit. The view was nothing short of breathtaking. You could see the entire city sprawled out below you, the glittering skyline on one side, the ocean stretching off into the horizon on the other. Drew sat down on a large rock, motioning for you to join him.

You settled next to him, the moment stretching out peacefully between you. Drew glanced over at you, his gaze soft and contemplative.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he teased lightly.

You shrugged, letting the view speak for itself. “It’s just... a nice change of pace. Everything feels so loud sometimes, especially in LA, you know? But up here, it’s just... quiet.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a touch more serious. “It’s nice to get away from everything, even if it’s just for a few hours. No expectations, no noise. Just... living.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in days. It felt like this was exactly what you needed—a simple day of adventure, of discovering new places and enjoying the company of someone who wasn’t focused on all the distractions of the world.

After a long while, you both stood up and started the trek back down the trail, still laughing and joking, your connection growing deeper with every passing moment.

When you reached the car, Drew turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, breakfast time?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve never earned a meal so much in my life.”

“Great,” Drew said with a wink. “Let’s go get some pancakes.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The drive to the diner was easy, the calm of the road soothing your nerves. Drew didn’t put on any music this time, letting the hum of the tires on the pavement fill the air as you both enjoyed the simple comfort of the drive. It felt grounding to be out of the whirlwind, just the two of you cruising through LA, away from everything else. No flashing lights, no rumors. Just a quiet moment.

When you arrived at the diner, it was an unassuming little place on a corner, a slice of nostalgia with its neon sign flickering invitingly. The retro décor inside felt like stepping into another time, and you immediately felt at ease in the warm, cozy atmosphere. Drew led the way, holding the door open for you with a smile that made everything feel effortless.

“Welcome to the best pancake spot in LA,” he said with a grin. “Trust me, they know what they’re doing here.”

You smiled, following him inside, and the waitress greeted you both with a friendly nod before leading you to a booth by the window. It wasn’t crowded, and the faint murmur of conversations filled the background as you both settled into your seats. It was the kind of place where you could be left alone to enjoy your meal, and the thought of it made you feel even more relaxed.

The waitress handed you both menus, and Drew glanced at his for a moment before looking up at you. “So, you’ve been in LA for what, a couple of days now?” he asked, his eyes bright with curiosity. “How’s it been? Adjusting from your small town?”

You hesitated for just a moment, taking in his question. It felt strange to admit just how big the change had been. In your small hometown, everything was familiar, comfortable, but LA was… overwhelming, in a good way, mostly. You had come here for something new, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a challenge.

“It’s been… different,” you said, shrugging slightly. “I mean, I grew up in a town where everyone knew everyone. You can’t walk into a store without running into half the people you know. LA’s kind of the opposite—huge, anonymous. It’s been nice, but also a little isolating. That’s why I’ve been trying to make sure I don’t get stuck in my own head too much. I’ve been trying to actually explore, you know? Get out and see the city.”

Drew nodded, his gaze steady, like he was really listening. “Yeah, I get that. LA can swallow you up if you let it. But it’s all about finding your rhythm. I think that’s why I love getting out of the city sometimes, doing stuff that reminds me what life’s like beyond the buzz.”

You smiled, feeling like you could connect with that more than you expected. “Exactly. It’s easy to forget there’s more to life than all this. I’m still figuring out how to balance it all.”

“That’s the thing with LA,” Drew said with a half-smile. “Everyone thinks you’re supposed to be constantly on the go, constantly working. But sometimes the best days are the ones where you’re just… present.”

His words made you pause, and you felt like the weight of the conversation wasn’t just passing by—it was something real. For someone who had so much of the world watching him, Drew seemed to get it, more than you expected. He was speaking to something you’d been trying to figure out since you’d gotten here: what life could look like outside the noise.

Before you could respond, the waitress returned, and you both ordered your meals, Drew sticking with his usual blueberry pancakes and you opting for a classic stack of buttermilks with a side of crispy bacon. The conversation drifted for a moment into lighter territory—favorite foods, places to visit in LA—but you felt the undercurrent of a real connection building between you.

As the waitress set down your pancakes, the sun had already climbed higher in the sky. You dug in, savoring the warmth and comfort of the food. It wasn’t just the pancakes you were enjoying—it was the feeling of normalcy, the feeling of being with someone who made you forget all the distractions.

“So,” Drew said between bites, “I remember you telling me that you came out here for a change. What was it like before? Your small town, I mean.”

You glanced at him, taken a little off guard by the question. You hadn’t really talked about your past in detail, and you weren’t sure how much to share. But Drew seemed genuinely curious, and something about the way he asked made it easier to open up.

“It was a lot quieter,” you said, your voice soft as you thought about your hometown. “A lot of people stick to the same routine, year after year. It wasn’t bad, but I knew it wasn’t the life I wanted. I needed something… bigger, I guess. Something where I could challenge myself. I didn’t want to wake up in ten years and feel like I hadn’t tried.”

Drew’s eyes softened with understanding. “Yeah. I get that. LA’s definitely a place that pushes you out of your comfort zone. I think that’s what I like about it, too—if you’re brave enough, it’ll make you grow.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words sink in. “I guess I’m just figuring out what that looks like.”

“I think that’s the beauty of it,” Drew said. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. The point is just… living it, you know?”

His words hit home in a way you hadn’t expected. Maybe it was the sincerity in his voice or the ease with which he spoke, but you felt like you were hearing something important. Maybe it wasn’t about having everything lined up or planned out. Maybe it was more about being open to the journey.

You smiled, realizing that being here, right now, with Drew, was a part of that journey.

After finishing your pancakes, Drew leaned back in his booth, looking satisfied. “So, what’s next? I know you’ve probably seen all the tourist stuff by now, but I’m thinking we hit some places that aren’t on the usual list. You up for an adventure?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. You had only just started getting to know LA, and the idea of seeing it through someone else’s eyes—someone who had lived here long enough to know the best hidden gems—sounded perfect.

“Adventure sounds great,” you said with a grin. “What do you have in mind?”

Drew grinned back, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

And just like that, you were back on the road, ready for whatever Drew had planned. You didn’t know what the day would hold, but you were more than ready to find out. The city, with all its chaos and beauty, didn’t feel so overwhelming anymore. Not when you had someone by your side who understood what it meant to be in search of something more.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

As you and Drew cruised through the winding streets toward the beach, the excitement you felt earlier in the day had started to shift. There was a sense of unease building in the pit of your stomach, and you couldn’t put your finger on why. You’d spent the morning laughing, talking about your favorite places in the city, and getting to know each other more. But as the car neared the coast, something began to feel off.

Drew was in high spirits, excited about showing you something he loved. But just as you started to relax again, you noticed something—you hadn’t seen a single paparazzi yet. For a moment, you told yourself it was just coincidence. LA wasn’t that small, right?

Then, the first click of a camera caught your ear.

You froze, eyes darting toward the rearview mirror. Drew, blissfully unaware, was focused on the road, humming lightly to the music. But you could see them now—two cars trailing a little too closely. Paparazzi.

Your stomach dropped, and before you could say anything, Drew swore under his breath, his expression darkening.

“Shit,” he muttered, hands tightening on the wheel. “Of course, they found us.”

You started to speak, but Drew was already acting. He began weaving through traffic, trying to shake them off, but the paparazzi followed relentlessly. You felt yourself growing more anxious with each passing second, the buzz of the chase creeping into your nerves.

“This is ridiculous,” you said, glancing over at him, trying to make light of the situation. “We were just going to the beach.”

Drew’s eyes flickered toward you, but it wasn’t the same relaxed, playful Drew from earlier. He looked frustrated, panicked almost. “Yeah, well, this is what happens when you’re seen with someone like me.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, the weight of them sinking deep into your chest. You blinked, processing. “What do you mean, someone like you?”

Drew shook his head, his jaw tight. “I mean, me—a celebrity. People want to know every little thing about me. And now I have to deal with it because I invited you along. People are going to start thinking you're just another hanger-on, someone who wants to use me for the attention.”

His voice wasn’t cruel, but the implication stung all the same. It felt like he’d just dismissed everything about you—everything you were. As if your presence wasn’t your own choice but something tied to his fame, and he didn’t even see how that could hurt. You could feel the heat rise in your chest, the hurt twisting in your gut.

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped yourself. What could you say? You weren’t sure if you were hurt more by the words themselves or by the way they seemed to come so naturally to him. It felt like you were an accessory to his life, just something he had to keep in line to avoid drama. And yet, you hadn’t asked for any of this.

Before you could process it any further, Drew pulled into an alley near a side street, his car screeching to a halt as he scrambled to hide. He turned to you quickly, his eyes frantic. “Put this on.” He reached into the back seat and threw a dark hoodie at you.

“What’s this?” you asked, holding it up.

“A disguise,” he said, voice clipped. “Just do it, okay? I need you to look like someone else right now.”

You stared at the hoodie in your hands, a sinking feeling growing inside you. He was treating this like a game, like you were just a prop to be hidden away. You didn’t have time to argue, though—he was already turning the car around, trying to make his escape.

Your fingers fumbled with the hoodie as you quickly pulled it over your head, the oversized fabric swallowing you. Your mind was spinning, and you couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling gnawing at you. The way he’d talked to you, the way he was treating you—it felt like he was just seeing you as a part of his world, not you. And that hurt more than anything else.

“We can switch cars with Ava.” You offered. Within minutes, you were back at Ava’s apartment, and Drew was practically dragging you inside, his eyes scanning the street as if expecting a mob to pop up at any moment. He rushed you into the apartment, clearly panicked, and you could tell his nerves were getting the better of him.

“We need to go. We can’t stay here,” he said urgently, tossing a bag into the back of Ava’s almost-broken-down car. He had barely taken a second to notice the difference in the car’s condition before he threw the keys into your hands.

You didn’t protest—this was his world, after all. You just followed him, your stomach twisting, feeling more like an afterthought in his plans. The more you saw of this side of Drew, the more you realized that it wasn’t just the paparazzi that were a problem—it was the way he expected you to just fit into it, without a word.

The car started, and Drew floored it as he raced toward the mountains, hoping to escape the frenzy for a while. The roads became more winding, the city skyline fading behind you. But the paparazzi didn’t give up so easily, and just when you thought you were free, you saw the familiar outline of the cars in the rearview mirror.

You sighed. “They’re still following us.”

Drew’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. “They can’t leave us alone for five minutes.”

In an effort to lose them, Drew took a sharp turn onto a stray road, one that seemed to go deeper into the mountains. The road grew narrower, the trees thicker, but the paparazzi stayed right behind. You felt your patience wearing thin, and as the car started to slow, Drew cursed again.

“We’re lost, aren’t we?” you said dryly, looking out the window at the dense trees that surrounded you.

“I’m just trying to shake them,” Drew replied, trying to hide the frustration in his voice, but you could hear it clearly.

A moment later, the car sputtered and came to a stop.

Drew swore again, banging his hands on the steering wheel. “Shit! We’re stuck.”

You groaned, leaning back in your seat, the weight of everything crashing down on you. “Are you kidding me? We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, and we’re lost?”

“I didn’t plan this,” Drew snapped. “You think I wanted this?”

“Obviously you didn’t think this through,” you retorted, your voice rising in frustration. “We’re out here because you couldn’t accept that people are following you. You forced me into a disguise, dragged me out of the city, and now we’re stuck in the mud!”

Drew turned to you, his face hard. “You think I wanted any of this? I didn’t ask for this either, you know. I didn’t ask to be followed around by paparazzi all the time. I didn’t ask for people like you to get involved in my life.”

The words stung, and for a moment, you felt something inside snap. “You don’t get it,” you said, voice trembling with emotion. “I didn’t ask for any of this either. I came to LA for a fresh start, to get away from all of that. But now I’m just here, stuck with you in the middle of nowhere, pretending to be someone I’m not, and for what?”

Drew’s face softened, but the damage was already done. You couldn’t look at him anymore. The silence between you both was deafening as you sat in the car, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You weren’t sure what you were more upset about—the situation itself, or the way Drew had made you feel so small.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The car sat idling in the middle of nowhere, its engine sputtering one last time before dying with a sad cough. You stared at the dense forest surrounding you, the humid air creeping into the small confines of Ava’s beat-up car. Drew banged his fists lightly on the steering wheel and groaned, muttering something under his breath.

“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, unbuckling your seatbelt. “We’re literally stuck in the middle of nowhere because you—”

“Because me?” Drew interrupted, incredulous, turning toward you with wide eyes. “Let’s not forget, the only reason we’re here is because I’m trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You mean forcing me into a disguise, dragging me into some wild goose chase to avoid a couple of cameras, and now stranding me in the wilderness counts as protection?”

“You think I enjoy this?” Drew countered, gesturing wildly at the forest. “You think I wanted to get stuck in mud, in a car that sounds like it might explode at any moment?”

“Don’t you dare blame Ava’s car!” you snapped, your voice almost a growl. “It’s a miracle this thing even runs, and honestly, I’d trust it over you right now!”

Drew opened his mouth, then shut it, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “We should be working together, not blaming each other.”

“Oh, now you want teamwork?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You mean after you implied I’m some leech who can’t handle your celebrity life?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Drew said quickly, his tone defensive. “I was frustrated, okay? You don’t know what it’s like having your every move watched.”

“I didn’t ask for this!” you yelled, finally stepping out of the car. The humid air hit you, but you didn’t care. You needed to move. “You dragged me into this! I just wanted a nice day out, and instead, I’m in the middle of nowhere, wearing your hoodie, and wondering if I’m about to be eaten by a bear.”

Drew stepped out of the car too, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, first of all, there are no bears here—probably. Second, I was just trying to make the day fun.”

“Oh, yeah, super fun,” you shot back sarcastically, pacing in front of him. “Getting chased by paparazzi, being forced into a hoodie that smells like Axe body spray—real thrilling.”

Drew blinked. “Axe body spray? That’s Tom Ford.”

“Whatever,” you said, throwing your hands up. “It all smells the same when you’re stressed out and stuck in the mud!”

Drew sighed, leaning against the car, his head tilted back. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

“You didn’t think at all!” you snapped, poking a finger at his chest. “And now we’re stranded, because apparently, your grand plan to escape paparazzi is to drive until the Earth swallows us whole.”

“Hey!” Drew said, his tone turning defensive again. “I was improvising. I didn’t see you coming up with any ideas!”

“Because I didn’t sign up to be part of your personal action movie!” you shot back.

There was a beat of silence before Drew’s lips quirked upward, the tiniest hint of a smirk forming.

“What?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Excuse me?”

“I mean,” Drew continued, leaning slightly closer, “the way you’re all fiery and passionate right now—it’s kind of hot.”

You gaped at him, utterly speechless. “Are you—are you seriously trying to flirt your way out of this argument?”

“Depends,” he said, his smirk growing. “Is it working?”

You let out a sharp laugh, more out of disbelief than humor. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming?” he quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“Unbelievably infuriating,” you corrected, throwing your hands up. “I’m out of here.”

You turned on your heel and started walking toward the road, your footsteps crunching against the gravel. Drew scrambled after you.

“Wait! You can’t just storm off into the wilderness!” he called.

“Watch me,” you shot back, not breaking stride.

“Y/N,” Drew said, his voice dropping into a softer, coaxing tone. “Come on. You don’t want to leave me here all alone, do you?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you said, turning around to glare at him. “I’m sure you can charm the forest animals into helping you out.”

Drew stopped in his tracks, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he sighed and threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win. I screwed up.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Go on.”

“I’ll admit,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I didn’t think this through. I was trying to be... I don’t know, spontaneous? Adventurous?”

“Well, congratulations,” you said dryly. “You’ve succeeded in creating the most chaotic adventure of all time.”

Drew chuckled softly, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of guilt. “I’ll fix it. I promise. Just... don’t walk away, okay?”

You sighed, the fight draining out of you as his expression softened. “Fine,” you said reluctantly. “But if we get eaten by a bear, I’m haunting you.”

“Deal,” Drew said, grinning. And despite everything, you found yourself smiling back—just a little.

© 2025 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.