#it's something you do when you are desperate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heegyukeluv · 1 day ago

Text

cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

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

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

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

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

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

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

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

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

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he never really committed to anyone.

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

So, the question felt out of place.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted Heeseung.

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

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

Every. Single. Second.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he loved you with his whole soul.

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

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

Even so, you kept a straight face.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you flirt, then?”

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

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dangerously close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder. “What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

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

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

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

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

No.

He needed you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That you want me.”

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed, closing your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

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

“I need you, Heeseung.”

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

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

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

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

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

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

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

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

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what is it, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

“Alright…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

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

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

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

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

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment.

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering.

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet.

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

#heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heegyukeluv works

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whxre-bxby · 2 days ago

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Player 001 (Young-il) x Reader

"Poor Little Y/N..."

My attraction to older men fuels the creativity within me to write

Oneshot - angst, death, blood, silent attraction, romantic feelings Masterlist

When Gi-hun decides to rebel against the guards and marches out of the player's room with his small army, you join them. Innocent, caring little Y/N, who's never held a gun in her life nor seen one before she ended up in these games, bravely sucks up her fear of dying and breaks the rules by exiting with the armed players. Among those are Young-il and other people you trust now.

You go because your fear of losing them and watching not a single one of them return is far worse than your instinctive fear of death.

Lovely, selfless Y/N who holds in her tears and forces her trembling hands to calm down while aiming her weapon at guards and pulling the trigger.

After leaving the stairs on which your group has been ambushed, you make it to a corridor when Gi-hun and Jung-bae leave you behind to advance further into this hellhole of a place.

You don't like splitting up but you can't stop them, so you stay with the group, continuing to help them through the gunfight. But then Young-il shouts that he is going after them and needs two people. Young-il, who's been a trusted member since you all met him after the first game. The man who pulled you into a room with him when the voice announced the number 2 during Round-And-Round, saving you without hesitation.

The man who insisted you take his pillow to hug at night because you couldn't fall asleep without the comfort of clutching something against you. Even though you kindly rejected his offer, he didn't take no for an answer and didn't leave the side of your bed until he was sure you accepted his gift and were as comfortable as you could be in this place.

So of course, you volunteer to go with him, as do two other men. He glances at them before his gaze rests on you a little too long, and you can see the gears of thought turning in his head. His expression isn't so stern and tense anymore and you watch his eyes soften as his head slowly leans back against the wall.

"No...not you, Y/N..." he says, his voice no longer loud, before waving the two men over to him and leaving with them. His words stung you deeply. You didn't understand why he said that to you. Oh, only if you knew he was going to betray the two good players he brought with him...

Brave and dedicated Y/N, who feels it's been to long since she's heard from either Gi-hun's team or Young-il's, so she runs after them, towards the control room. The sound of distant gunshots has your kind little heart racing with adrenaline. The urge to help and protect being stronger than your will to live.

What life would it be if you knew you could have helped, but didn't? What if they all died while you would cowardly wait and hide. You would be tortured by those thoughts forever.

Fast but scared Y/N, who sprints through the cold-coloured hallways and up levels of stairs, past dead guards and over puddles of blood because as long as you haven't found your friends' dead bodies, you have a reason to live and fight on.

Close gunshots no longer scare you. It could be your team firing them. But then you reach the first proper obstacle. The two players who went with Young-il were dead and their bodies pierced by bullets. The sight startles you, but you've seen this before. As long as it's not one of the other three, you can live with it. You have to. So you continue up the stairs, desperately wanting to find someone you know for your comfort and safety.

Shocked yet relieved Y/N who finds Young-il on the other side of the stairs, gun in hand but body slumped on the ground and tracksuit splattered with blood.

Such a good heart you have... immediately running to his side and checking up on him. He seems to be fine, though you can't be sure until you know where he's been hurt.

Silly you, that blood isn't his.

You don't even pay attention to the confused and unexpected look in his eyes. Oh, he did not expect anyone to find him now. He wasn't sure what to say or how to act anymore. Young-il thought his time of pretending to be Player 001 had come to an end. But he had to keep up the act in front of you right? Right?

He couldn't. It all happened so fast, he could just sit back and watch you hug him before you search for a wound to explain the bloodstains. Your face painted in great worry and distress. Your commitment to improving his wellbeing astounded him.

But the dream-like moment didn't last long and was canonically interrupted when footsteps were heard rushing down the other flight of stairs, towards the two of you.

Young-il had no reason to fear them. But you, who at this point were frightened by the very sight of them, made the alarm in your head start ringing. You abruptly turned around, facing them instead of the face you found great comfort in.

Young-il, who suddenly felt his heart drop deep into his gut when he realised the danger you could be in now.

Brave but teary-eyed Y/N, who sits on her heels in front of her friend, attempting to shield him while shouting at them to stop.

Young-il, who panics, wanting to move you behind him while attempting to wave the guards away, or at least not to open fire. But then it happens. The sound of a gunshot echoes through the cold walls and before either of you can process anything, the impact the bullet caused, had your body falling back. You land next to him, head supported against the wall and lock eyes with Young-il. A look of wide-eyed shock takes over his expression and he can only watch the consequences of his actions unfold before him.

Your trembling arms reach out for him, but not for help. You're still trying to save him, but your attempts are weak. Another harsh bang rings in both your ears and that does it. As the second bullet buries itself deep in your flesh, having pierced through vital organs, the light in your eyes vanishes and your body goes limp next to him.

Young-il can't move. You, the only person who's shown this kind of care for him in years, are now dead because of him and his actions. He made you trust him and now he had to watch you pay the price for his mistake. He should have never shown you any attention.

Poor little Y/N... your pretty body has failed you. But it was your heart that killed you.

Yes, I know. Tragic. Sorry. I'm sure you'll survive in other fics.

It's past midnight but fuck it I'm posting it.

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dilfverines · 1 day ago

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Old man Logan who misses you when you’re away at work or spending time with your friends, who gets way too caught up in thoughts of you and the scent of you all over your clothes when he tries the thoughtful, innocent gesture of doing your laundry for you.

Picking out a pair of lacy pink panties from the basket, his mind clouds with lust as he holds them to his face and takes a deep sniff. He groans at your smell, so strong it’s almost like he’s between your legs, lapping at the very cunt that had been touching the fabric he’s holding tight in his grasp.

Shaky hands fumble with his belt and he lets his pants drop and hang around his muscular thighs. His cock is already rock hard just by your scent, aching and needy for touch. He can’t remember ever feeling this desperate for anyone before you came along.

With no reluctance, he brings the pair of panties down to his aching length, letting the soft fabric cover it with a slight sigh leaving his dry lips at the delicate touch.

Logan knows he should feel guilty for this, for being perverted enough to take something so personal and use it for something so disgusting, but his old age and his extreme desperation bring him to have no care at all.

He grasps his cock through the panties, teasing the swollen head through the fabric, feeling it get wet and sticky with his precum. His brain plays an image of you, on your knees before him, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head. A groan leaves him at the thought.

A stain begins to grow on the crotch of the panties as he jerks himself off, muscles tight and strained with the pleasure he feels. A few little breaths escape, mutters of you and your pretty pussy, wishing you were here with him.

He thinks about how he can’t wait to get you home later, pin you down on the nearest surface and show you how much he missed you while you were gone. He’ll have to resort to this for now though, turning his attention back to the soft cloth that he gets off with.

His strokes grow faster, his rough palm grasping his thick cock even tighter. A strangled groan, a whisper of your name, and he feels it. Vision going blurry, hips twitching to meet his fist, spurts of white, hot semen shoot from his weeping slit and on to the soft fabric inside your panties.

A strangled fuck leaves Logans lips. He lets it take over him, completely consumed by the feeling of cumming into your panties like the gross old man he is, until the high fades into a dull buzz in the back of his mind.

Head stirring, he looks down at the mess he’s made, knowing he’ll definitely have to clean this up before you get back, and he can’t wait until you do.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #x men x reader #x men smut

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ellieslaces · 3 days ago

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𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

afab ; wc:499

idk what anyone says. leon kennedy’s favorite kind of sex is vanilla sex. he just likes the simplicity and intimacy of missionary. you can’t change my mind on this.

there’s something so sweet and raw about being chest to chest, foreheads touching, heavy breaths mingling in the heat of the moment that’s really only achievable in missionary. the way his hips would grind into yours, each thrust deep and powerful, but still tender and sweet. the way he can see your face when you fall apart around him. he can hold eye contact as he speaks to you in filthy, sickeningly saccharine whispers. his large hand intertwines with your own over your head, holding your hand sweetly while he desperately pounded you into the mattress. he liked how he could bury his face into the crook of your neck, pressing soft and encouraging kisses to the skin of your neck. he could smell you - your perfume, the body wash you used, just the scent of your skin. in moments like these, he liked to memorize those smells. he loved that in this position with his head ducked into the crook of your shoulder, he could hear every little noise you made. every breath that hitched, every gasp, every whine and little whimper. all because of him and how he was fucking you. it was just so raw, limbs tangled, breaths mixed.

or maybe cowgirl. a step further from missionary, but still a little vanilla. the way your soft, lovely thighs caged his hips. how your body was on display for him to gaze at and touch and worship. his hands would be everywhere - running along your arms, cupping your breasts, thumbs ghosting over your nipples, fingers trialing down your belly, grasping your hips as you moved on him. it was a little less work for him, until you got tired at least. you always tried, always put up a good fight. fucking yourself on him for a good while, hands planted on his chest to steady yourself. his large calloused hands guiding your hips. when you’d begin to grow tired, things would shift a little. his hands would grasp your hips a little firmer, his hips beginning to piston up into you. his movements much harsher and powerful than your own. he also loved cowgirl because he had a full view of seeing your face when you came. how you’d cry out his name, nails digging into the skin of his chest. he loved it because you would collapse on top of him whenever you were finished, exhausted and tired from working him and staying upright like that for so long. he liked the soft moments after missionary and cowgirl, where you’d lay atop one another. after cowgirl, you’d drape yourself over him, exhausted from such activities. in missionary, he’d lay atop you. your fingers running through his hair.

sure, you’d get freaky sometimes, but for leon, the best and most fulfilling pleasure came from the simplest methods sometimes. and they were certainly the most intimate.

©️ ellieslaces | 2025 | i do not own the character of leon kennedy, only this work

#Chloe yaps #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon kennedy re4 #leonscottkennedy #re4 leon #re leon #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #my formal apology for being away for so long #yikes I’m sorry

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kiss-me-muchoo · 2 days ago

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𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

#gong yoo x reader #the salesman x reader #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #gong yoo

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greengoblinswifey · 2 days ago

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Game of Fate—Hwang In-ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader

summary— After discovering that you, a girl he had a one night stand with entered the deadly games, the Front man disguised as a player 001, infiltrates the games under the guise of monitoring Gi-hun but his focus becomes protecting you at all costs. based on this request.

warnings— none! fluff undertones, slight angst, season 2 spoilers, usual squid game chaos, in-ho being protective and possessive(he has a heart) <3

In-ho sat in his private quarters, the screens in front of him displaying the death and desperation of the games. His attention drifted from one player to the next until his eyes fell on you. A bolt of recognition shot through him. It was you, his one night stand from years ago, someone who had left a mark on him in ways he hadn’t expected.

He remembered every detail about you, your wit, your boldness, and the way you made him feel alive, even if just for one night. It infuriated him to see other players whispering in your ear or lingering too long in your space. His possessiveness surprised even him. You had been the best fuck he ever had, and seeing you here now stirred something he couldn’t ignore.

That’s when he made a decision.

By the time you met “Young-il,” the newest player in the games, you couldn’t place why he seemed familiar. His face was shadowed by the chaos of your surroundings, and you had no time to dwell on it.

“You,” he said, approaching you during a moment of uneasy rest.

Your eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”

“You could say that,” have a sly smile, “Call me Young-il.”

You tilted your head, trying to recall where you might have met him. There was something about him, his confidence, his presence, that struck something. Still, you shrugged it off. “Okay, Young-il. Hope you know what you’re doing here.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You didn’t realize he was watching your every move.

During one of the more grueling games, you faltered. The sound of gunfire rang out as players dropped like flies, and your heart pounded. You’d made a critical mistake, one that should have cost you your life.

You braced yourself for the inevitable, but nothing happened. The guards moved past you, their guns silent. You stood frozen, confused, but grateful.

In-ho, hidden behind the mask of a player, allowed himself the briefest sigh of relief. His influence was subtle but effective, you were still alive, and he’d made sure of it.

Later, as the remaining players rested, he approached you again.

“You were lucky out there,” he said, sitting down next to you.

“Mhmm. Don’t know how I pulled that off,” you said as you glanced at him, still shaken from the day’s events.

“You’ve got more lives than a cat.”

“Or someone’s watching over me,” you joked.

He smiled faintly, hiding how true your words were.

As the games continued, his protectiveness grew. When another player made a sly comment about your appearance, he was quick to cut in.

“Keep your eyes on the prize,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The player backed off, muttering under his breath, while you arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to fight my battles,” you said sassily.

“I wasn’t fighting,” he said as he leaned closer.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at your lips.

In-ho found himself conflicted. He hadn’t planned to step into the games, let alone risk his identity. But seeing you here, vulnerable yet determined, pulled at something deep within him. And when you finally cornered him one night, your wary gaze demanding answers, he knew he couldn’t stay in the shadows forever.

“You’re not just another player, are you?” you asked, your voice steady but your eyes searching his.

He hesitated, then smiled. “What do you think?”

“I think you’ve got secrets. But shit, me too. Let’s survive this first.”

“Deal,” he said.

He couldn’t stop himself from watching you, protecting you, and falling deeper into the very thing he tried to avoid. The very thing he said he wasn’t there for. Wasn’t he there to target Gi-hun?

Young-il seamlessly integrated himself into the group with Gi-hun and the rest, his calm demeanor and quick thinking making him reliable. Despite his apparent calmness, his sharp gaze constantly flicked to you. He positioned himself strategically, always close enough to step in if anything went wrong.

Gi-hun often exchanged glances with Jung-bae, silently questioning why Young-il seemed more concerned about you than the games themselves. But they never voiced their suspicions, after all, his protectiveness benefited the group.

Young-il wasn’t subtle about his priorities. When Thanos, one of the annoying and aggressive players, approached you with a smirk and a comment about how “a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be here,” Young-il’s jaw tightened.

“Walk away,” he said, his voice cold.

“Relax, man. Just talking—” Thanos chuckled nervously.

“I said, walk away.”

Before Thanos could respond, Young-il took a step forward, fists clenched, his eyes dark. Thanos scrambled back, muttering curses under his breath.

You crossed your arms and shot him a look. “I didn’t need you to step in. I could’ve handled that.”

“I wasn’t going to let him near you.”

When the lights went out, the dormitory turned into chaos. You barely managed to sleep, anxiety gnawing at you. But Young-il stayed awake, his body perched against the wall near your makeshift bed. His eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, remained trained on the room, scanning for any sign of danger.

At one point, you stirred, catching his silhouette in the dim light. “You’re not sleeping?”

“Not tired,” he lied, his voice soft.

“You should rest. I’m fine.”

“I’ll rest when this is over. Someone has to make sure you’re safe,” he said as he shook his head.

His words lingered in the air, and you turned away, confused by his constant concern.

When food rations arrived, Young-il always ensured you had enough, sometimes splitting his share without you noticing. If you hesitated to eat, he nudged the portion toward you.

“Eat,” he insisted once, placing his biscuit in your hand.

“I’m not a damsel in distress,” you said. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting,” he replied. “I’m keeping you alive.”

In the third game, players had to quickly form groups based on the number the organizers called, and with each failed attempt, the penalty was being shot to death. Fear ran high, and each moment felt like it could be your last.

You were with Young-il, trying to keep calm as the guards shouted the numbers. The merry go round platform spun as everyone scrambled to form groups and find a room, but it quickly turned chaotic. Someone tried to push past you, their eyes wild with desperation, and before you could react, Young-il was already stepping in.

His face was hard, his eyes cold as he grabbed the man by the collar, dragging him to the back of the room. The man’s protests were cut short as Young-il raised his hands and broke his neck, ending his life. The room fell silent for a moment before the countdown ended.

You froze, shock creeping into your body as you realized what had just happened. You hadn’t expected him to kill so easily, even after all the brutality you’d witnessed in the games. His gaze softened when he turned to you, seeing the fear in your eyes. He stepped closer, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“I know this is hard,” he whispered, his voice gentle compared to the violence he had just shown. “But you need to understand, this place doesn’t have mercy.” He looked down at you, his hand reaching up to cup your face, brushing away the few tears that had fallen. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m here.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words as he pulled you into his chest. The harsh reality of the games had taken root in you, but with him, you knew, even if just for a minute, you wouldn’t have to do it alone. His feelings for you were clear, he wanted you to survive, to make it out of this, and he was determined to ensure that you would.

During the dark night when the O Team launched their attack, chaos erupted. Players were dragged from their beds, screams echoing through the dormitory. When someone lunged toward you with a fork, Young-il stopped them in an instant, knocking them to the ground with a brutality that left you stunned.

He positioned himself between you and the attackers, his stance firm. “Stay behind me,” he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I can fight!” you shouted back, trying to step forward.

“Not tonight,” he said, shoving you back gently but firmly. “You’re staying behind me. That’s final.”

Despite your protests, he shielded you with everything he had, fighting off anyone who dared come near.

When the group decided to attack the guards and confront the ‘Front Man’, Young-il hesitated. His gaze flickered between you and Gi-hun, his usual resolve wavering.

“You’ll be okay,” he said finally, pressing a gun into your hand.

“I don’t even know how to use this,” you said, eyes widened.

“You don’t need to. Just point and shoot if you have to,” he said. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Why are you doing all this?”

“Because you’re mine,” he said quietly, his words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he turned to follow Gi-hun. Over his shoulder, he added, “You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you with more questions than answers and a determination to survive—not just for yourself, but for the man who had somehow made you his priority in this death game.

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nativegirltapes · 2 days ago

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when drew drunkenly confessed his feelings for angel ˚⋆𐙚

warnings: mention of reader being 19 oops, idk if this is stupid ?

"hey, i don't know if this stupid, you'll have to let me know," drew giggled to himself, all the alcohol he consumed seemingly hitting him all at once, all in this moment. "but i was just out with some friends, and all i could think about was you. i really like you, like seriously.” you could literally feel drew’s smug smirk through the phone. "there's just no one like you.”

shooting up from your position, quickly scavenging through the short list of 'nonchalant' responses you could come up with you decided on, “are you asking me on a date?"

"something like that." drew smiled to himself again, toying with a nearby lighter, desperately trying to get rid of the nerves. "i'm really drunk by the way."

"yeah, i can tell." you were already mentally planning your outfit, makeup, hair, which underwear you were going to wear.

"so, is that a yes?” drew chuckled. the way he was eager for you to say yes had you growing hot and flustered. had he really been dying to take you out for this long?

“depends, where are you taking me?” you glanced at yourself in the mirror, already thinking about how good you’d look for your upcoming date. “wherever the princess wants to go.”

“hmmmm,” you mumbled through the phone. “how about mastro’s steakhouse?” you suggested the first place that came to mind. drew could take you to mcdonald’s and you’d be happy.

“reservations already set! monday, 7pm sharp.” drew slurred his words. you giggled. “so do you always get drunk and confess your feelings to 19 year old girls?”

“no, just you.”

#⊹₊ works ⋆#⊹₊ blurbs ⋆#꒰ 𖥻 angel!reader ♡ ꒱#drew starkey #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey thoughts #drew starkey headcanons #drew starkey x you #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine

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sunsetsover · 2 days ago

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do NOT and i mean do NOT under any circumstances think about the fact that kant says to bison 'i promise when you wake up, the version you'll see of me is the real me' and then the next time bison sees kant after he wakes up kant is panicked and crying and traumatised and petrified and weak and vulnerable. don't think about the fact that you can literally see kant being so fucking scared he automatically falls back into his default state which is to try and be calm and reason with the threat because he's done it so often it's become second nature. do not think about the fact that kant is so desperate and frightened that for the first time in this whole show we see him actually ask for something: can we talk on land? i'm scared of the ocean. and for the love of god do NOT think about the fact that when bison responds who the hell cares? kant doesn't say another fucking word.

#the heart killers #kantbison #thk meta #he doesn't even say bison's NAME. he just cries and looks at him.#kant is so so so fucking scared he finally asks for what he wants. what he NEEDS. but he doesn't get it. of course not.#wanting anything is pointless. kant never gets what he wants.#why would he think now is any different? why would he think bison is any different?#(:

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cassdrawsthings · 7 hours ago

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God, that was my whole fucking childhood in a nutshell.

You know what I love about it?

I've made a list.

Won't you take a moment to read about all of the things I love?

I think you'll enjoy it

I'm excited to share things with you :D

Love being gaslit into thinking that every single problem is a problem with me.

Love being constantly abused by society every single step of the way.

Love being psychologically tortured non-stop for literal years by peers who treated it as a sport.

I wish I could make friends

Love being psychologically tortured non-stop for years by adults out of spite that I went to for help.

Love having my joy and sense of wonderment beaten out of me during a time of nurturing.

What did I do wrong?

Love living as an adult in a child's body.

Was it something I said?

I love every attempt at human connection and every attempt to share my interests being aggressively rejected and being punished for even trying.

I love how it was seen as especially noble that I would spend time with the nonverbal autistic kids trying to find new ways to communicate with them when they were among the very few who seemed to understand me.

I'm sorry I didn't mean to bother you

I love seeing nonverbal autistic kids being seen as obnoxious lumps of flesh incapable of thought or agency by people who make no real attempt to adapt to their needs.

I love being told I have no sense of empathy by people who act like unfeeling psychopaths towards me when I dare to simply exist around them.

I love being called a retard by my classmates for struggling to use spoken language under stress.

I love being pushed to the point of abject desperation, being backed into a corner and drowning in abuse and neglect and isolation and feeling completely and utterly hopeless.

Please just leave me alone

I love having my desperate struggle for basic survival labeled as "anger issues."

I love having nobody to turn to for company but my pet cat.

I love crying myself to sleep every night.

I love spending every day yearning to return to the before times, hoping that everything is just a horrible nightmare and that I would wake up one day in a kind world.

I love being disappointed every time.

I love waking up into different variations of the same horrible, traumatic day instead.

Over.

And over.

Please, I'm trying my best

And over.

I love losing hope.

I love wondering why I had any to begin with.

I love trying to run away and making it a block before breaking down and sobbing alone in the cold winter rain.

And over.

And over. What do you want from me

And over.

I loAnd over.

Er.

I love forgetting how it feels to have the gentle wAnd over.armth of sunlight on your skin.

And over.

And ovI love accepting that this horrible, cold, lonely tunnel is my new life.er.

And over.

And over. Please I just want an honest friend

And over. I just want to be loved

I love accepting that there is no light at the end of this tunnel.

And over.

And over And over

And over I love you Lula, you're such a good kitty

And over I love that you spend time with me

And over thank you for being a warm, gentle thing

And over for me to hold close to my heart

And over. Such a sweetie

And over.

And over. Such a kind soul

And over.

I love holding my stuffed animals close and sobbing as I apologize over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and without even knowing what I'm apologizing for. and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and

And over.

And over. I have poured so much love into my stuffed

And over. animals

And over.

And over. Maybe someday I will have that love

And over. returned to me

And over.

And over. and I won't be so sad

And over.

I love having the school's principal, the only adult in my life that would extend kindness and understanding to me, being out sick for days without explanation.

And over.

And over. Lula's fur is so silky soft

And over.

I love the pain turning to a dull, crushing ache.

And over.

And over. It's a good soft texture in a world of

And over. bad textures and bad people

I love days turning to weeks.

And over.

I love becoming desensitized

And over please get better soon it's gotten so bad

And oer please come back I'm begging you

A d ov r

I love weeks turning to months.

I love becoming depersonalized.

And over.

I love the temporary substitute.

And over.

I love how I'm a problem to solve.

And over.

I love being told he's getting better.

I love being lied to.

I love being gaslit up until the day of his death.

I love begging God for just five minutes to say my goodbyes and thank him for everything he did for me.

I love getting no reply.

I love dreaming of monsters pretending to be him.

I love waking up to monsters pretending to be him.

And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAm I in hell?And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd over

I love giving up.

I love having nothing left to live for.

I'm so sorry

I tried my best

It wasn't good enough

Maybe it's my fault after all

Maybe I didn't deserve life in the first place

I love walking home with my sister and the dipshit neighbor boy.

I love that not even the walk home from school will grant me peace.

I love how he's a total asshole all the time to me for no fucking reason at all.

I love when I finally snap.

I love deciding that I'm done with all of it.

Maybe this is my freedom

I love trying to jump into traffic.

I loveAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAHell would be better than this.And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd over

And being pulled out of traffic by my sister

I lovenot to stop me from killing myself

I love ovbut because it seemed like I was just being a complete impulsive spaz like always with no self control

erIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyIloveyoululakittyI

I love you Lula kitty more than anyone else in the whole wide world, thank you for letting me talk and listening to me and not being mean to me

I love being stuck here

I love being trapped

I love being denied even the kindness of death

I lo

Ilo

I love breaking my arm and getting a silver sharpie in the hopes that someone will sign it.

I love that nobody ever did.

ilha

Over and over and over and over and No.

I love I've fucking had it

Į løvè being crushingly alone

I love I've absolutely fucking had it I'm done with this

I love You know what I have bent over backwards and

I love done everything I can to destroy everything

I love about myself that brings me joy just so that

I love feeling the warm light return.

I love you would allow me to exist and survive

I love getting lost in imaginary worlds on the computer that let me pretend I live in something other than this godawful fucking torture chamber where every sound stabs into me like knives and every texture rips at my skin like knives and everything is trying to cut me to pieces like I tried to kill myself when it became clear that I could not so much as breathe wi autistic retard stupid useless piece of shit crybaby anger issues retard retard retard stupid idiot retard can't spell words out loud stop being such a fucking crybaby all the time retard freak retard retard retard degenerate piece of garbage annoying piece of shit thout being torn down and beaten into submission

I love it turning into a harsh, dry, burning feeling.

I love when people leave me alone and let me draw in What do you want from me peace.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME

WHAT DO YOU FUCKING WANT FROM ME

I TRIED TO GIVE UP MY LIFE FOR YOU AND YOU WOULD NOT TAKE EVEN THAT

DO YOU THINK MY ENTIRE FUCKING EXISTENCE IS JUST TO BE YOUR AMUSING LITTLE PUNCHING BAG

YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU CAN'T TELL ME TO SIT DOWN AND BE QUIET ANYMORE WHEN YOU WILL NOT FUCKING LET ME

I'VE FUCKING HAD IT

NO, THIS IS NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM

IT IS NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM THAT MY ABILITY TO LIVE MY FUCKING LIFE IS SUCH A MASSIVE ISSUE FOR YOU

I'M FUCKING SICK OF ALL OF YOU AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE

YOU CANNOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU CANNOT MAKE ME SIT STILL AND BE QUIET

YOU CAN TORMENT ME, BEAT ME, HARASS ME, CALL ME STUPID STUPID RETARD FUCKUP STUPID ANNOYING HAHA YOU SPILLED YOUR MILK AT LUNCH AND GOT UPSET AND EVERYONE SAW AND IT WAS EMBARRASSING AND ALL YOU WANTED WAS FOR PEOPLE TO STOP LOOKING AT YOU AND

I love IT'S SOOOO FUNNY THAT WE CAN SET YOU OFF JUST BY SAYING MILK NOW HAHAHAHA HAAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAA HAHAHA

BUT YOU CANNOT FUCKING CONTROL ME ANYMORE

I love my lula-boo, my sweet little kitty understands me.

I love how even an animal is capable of more kindness and empathy than you people.

I love that I'm fucking allowed to rock if I want to.

I love deciding that I am not the fucking problem and if people want to have a problem it is theirs to fucking deal with.

I love trying to hit someone that was trying to hurt to me and being punched in the stomach as hard as he could manage.

I love crumpling onto the cold metal grating in agonizing pain and struggling to breathe while the teacher yells at me for being late to line up.

I love deciding that I can just make myself throw up and go home for the day because I'm sick.

I love that You can't fucking stop me. What are you going to do. What could you possibly do to me that's worse than the last five years of And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd. Do you think I care anymore? Do you think I have anything left to lose?

I love that What, I can't even share the time of day with you people without someone hitting me or telling me to shut up and nobody cares about your stupid fucking Mario games. And you expect me to fall in line and write kind words for my classmates just because they're honored student of the month?

I love that Maybe I'll have some kind words for them when they stop tormenting me and fucking apologize.

I love that Fine. Send me to the fucking principal's office. See what I care about being removed from this situation.

I love that Maybe I'll have some kind words for them when they realize what they've done to me and understand how I feel.

I love that Maybe I'll have some kind words for them when they're the ones trying to kill themselves for once to escape their burden of guilt.

What happens at the end of eternity?

I love that I'm so desensitized to suicidal thoughts that it's not even a taboo subject to me anymore. It's just the fond childhood memories to me at this point.

I love being followed for years.

I love glancing over my shoulder and seeing it close behind every time.

I love having my experiences denied for years.

I love people shrugging it off.

I love being told that they did everything they could but their hands were tied.

I love being a scarred, mutilated corpse of a person for the rest of my life.

I love that I can't share about my special interests without constant flashes of anxiety that I'm going to get yelled at.

I love that I constantly have to worry that maybe this is all just a lie and that they're just putting up with me and that it's the same as always.

I love being told things will get better by people who do nothing to make it so.

I love being told that they can't do much for me now but I'll do great in college.

I love that I have no recourse for what happened.

I love being an unfortunate case that shouldn't have happened but they can't do anything about it.

I love being told that people in the school administration were made aware of my case and that they're going to try to make adjustments to stop it from happening again.

I love not being asked for my thoughts.

I love that nonverbal autistic children are still in the same Special Ed class they've always been in.

I love that they're still treated as obnoxious lumps of meat without agency or worth.

I love being told things are better.

I love how the scars remain.

I love the flashbaWHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME LET ME OUT LET ME OUTcks.

I love being told that "low-functioning autistics" have other issues and not everybody is ready for the same kind of dignity and fair treatment and respect.

I love that I'm too autistic to be treated with dignity and too good at masking to be given accomodations.

I love having the nightmares.

I love dreaming of monsters pretending to be him.

I love having to relive those five yearsAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAHell would be better than this.And overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd overAnd over in my dreams.

I love how nothing is wrong now.

I love how the majority of my life has been spent emotionally-dead and completely isolated out of fear.

I love living in the same room that I spent so many years weeping in.

I love being haunted by the ghost of a sobbing, lonely child.

I love worrying about if I'm allowed to flap and rock around.

I love worrying if people think I'm weird for touching the cloth and clothing in the store to feel its texture when it looks nice.

I love worrying if it's okay to mention that a sound is hurting my ears.

I love worrying if I'm allowed to share my interests with people.

I love worrying about whether people will start to do it again.

I love being an adult in a child's body.

I love being a child in an adult's body.

I love being gaslit.

I love hearing the piercing fluorescent whine.

I love seeing the disorienting fluorescent flicker.

I love the cold, gross light cast upon everything I can see.

I love the resigned expressions on people's faces when I tell them about it.

I love the fond childhood memories it stirs up.

I love the lamp.

I cannot stop thinking about the lamp.

I know nothing of the lamp but it consumes me nonetheless.

I love living in a prison of my own flesh.

I love being a child in an adult's body.

I miss you, Lula.

growing up autistic / growing up gaslit

this is the first lesson you learn: you are always wrong.

there is no electric hum buzzing through the air. there is no stinging bite to the sweetness of the mango. there is no bitter metallic tang to the water.

there is no cruelty in their laughter, no ambiguity in the instructions, no reason to be upset. there is no bitter aftertaste to your sweet tea, nothing scratchy about your blanket.

the lamps glow steadily. they do not falter.

II.

this is the second lesson you learn: you are never right.

you are childish, gullible, overly prone to tears. you are pedantic, combative, deliberately obtuse. you are lazy, unreliable, never on time.

you’re always making up excuses, rudely interrupting, stepping on people’s shoes. you’re always trying to get attention, never thinking about anyone else, selfish through and through.

it’s you that’s the problem. the lamps are fine.

III.

this is the third lesson you learn: you must always give in.

mother knows best. father knows best. doctor knows best. teacher knows best. this is the proper path. do not go astray.

listen to your elders, respect your betters, accept what’s given to you as your due. bow to the wisdom of experience, the education of the professional, the clarity of an external point of view.

what do you know about lamps, anyway?

#reblogs #i guess #im so sorry #im so so sorry #I know this is too much #I've been having a rough time lately #autistic #autism #neurodiversity #ptsd #prose

28K notes · View notes

owuwi · 1 day ago

Text

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

NSFW ALPHABET.ᐟ

pairings: switch!caitlyn kiramman x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw, usage of strap, mentions of free use, sex positions, mentions pussy eating, mentions of overstimulating, mentions of sex toys, mentions of knife play and anal as a turn off

2.5k words

── requested ──

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

sosososo caring!

even if she's tired, she'll always get you whatever you need. she's the type of girl to place soft, slow kisses along every inch of your burning skin, not caring about the thin layer of sweat covering your body. her hands roam all over you in the gentlest manner, wanting you to feel as relaxed as possible. after doing all of this, she'll carry you bridal style and give you a bath — if you're too tired, she'll simply clean you up with a warm towel —.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

in her, it's her waist. have you seen it? you can basically grab it with only one hand! she knows it amplifies her good looks and will always wear certain clothes that emphasizes her curves.

on you, it's any plushy part. whether it's your thighs, your ass, your tummy, or your breasts. she loves holding onto your body and she loves feeling your flesh. her love for your body isn't always sexual, she feels pure adoration whenever she looks at you and she can't hide it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

she never gets tired of seeing you cum.

no matter how many time's you've done it, seeing how your body reacts to such intense pleasure created by her is something that never fails to amaze her. she loves making you cum more than she can explain and will never get tired of experiencing your reactions, which often leads to her overstimulating you and constantly asking you for one more orgasm.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

this woman is a freak.

it's something she's not exactly proud of yet can't control. she's even a bit embarrassed because she never thought she'd ever act like this. when she first met you, she wasn't exactly experienced nor knew a lot of sexual stuff — she was quite awkward and let you had control almost every time — ,but that quickly changed once your relationship got more serious and as time passed.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

she definitely knows what she's doing.

she's a fast learner so it doesn't take her long to get to know your body — to figure out what you like and what you don't —, and she definitely takes advantage of her little skill. she knows how to get you dripping in a couple of seconds, she knows how to have you begging for her touch, and she definitely enjoys seeing you so desperate.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style or you riding her.

she loves the sight doggy style provides and it's a position where she has more control. her hands are always on your ass — constantly groping and slapping it — and she loves leaning down to press slow kisses all over your back — especially when she's fucking you rougher —.

she feels like a teenage boy whenever you're riding her; the most love-struck look plastered on her face as you bounce up and down her strap. she was definitely awkward the first time you did this, her hands basically glued besides her own legs as she watched you. she became more confident over time, soft palms roaming over every single inch of your body — her hips occasionally thrusting up to meet your movements —.

as for sub!cait, she loves when you drape her legs over your shoulders. it's a position which makes her lose all control and she's on your mercy, making her feel vulnerable — in a good way — and under your care.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

despite everything, she's still a silly little thing.

she cannot stop giggling when you start taking off her clothes or even when you're kissing, soft laughs constantly slipping past her lips. it's a reaction she's always had whenever she gets too excited so she can't really control it, yet she totally tries to be more serious at times — especially when she's the one in control —.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

her bush grows fast and it's thick — yet soft —.

she trims her bush whenever she can just because she finds it more comfortable, though she'll definitely let it grow a bit more if you ask her nicely. however there are obviously times where she's too busy to trim it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

intimacy is always present in your relationship.

during sexual acts, she always wants you to feel and know how much she loves you. after being rough or kinkier on you, she doesn't waste any time to shower you in affection and murmuring how much she cares about you; how you're the best thing that's ever happened to her and how she can't bare the thought of losing you.

intimacy outside of sex is something she cherishes. she loves those warm, quiet little moments with you. she loves brushing her fingers along your body, tracing your curves while listening to your soft breathing. what she loves the most is listening to your heartbeat, especially after a shitty day. you're all she needs in her life and to feel better.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

she only does it when she's really stressed and busy.

on those times where she's not with you and she really needs to blow some steam, she slips her hand inside her pants and allows herself to get carried away. she doesn't do it often because she's grown accustomed to the pleasure only you can provide her, though she always thinks of you on those rare moments when she touches herself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

free use and orgasm control.

she's a busy and stressed woman, often seeking relief after a rough day, and you're always her best solution. she mostly does this when she comes back home and she doesn't want to distract you from what you're doing — which is usually making her some dinner —, so she simply buries her face in the crook of your neck and allows her hands to roam all over your body. 'mhm... don't mind me..' those are the words she always murmurs as her hand slip inside your underwear, sliding up and down your slightly slick folds.

she loves having control over everything she possibly can, and that includes your pleasure. despite loving seeing you fall apart for her, there are other ways she enjoys breaking you. she's sneaky about it at first, not wanting you to see her real intentions, and it would be cute if it wasn't for how mean she gets. she won't let you cum no matter how much you beg or cry, she'll only give you what you crave after she feels she's had enough.

oh but if you try and control her orgasm, she'll immediately understand the torture she puts you through and claims she won't do it again — though that's a lie —.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

she doesn't really have a favorite place. as long as you two are comfortable, she'll fuck you anywhere. though the place she enjoys having sex the most is somewhere more private. she relishes in hearing you moan, in hearing how you scream her name while she makes you see stars, so doing it somewhere more public won't allow you to be loud.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

your reactions.

the way you react to her will never fail to get her going. she loves the way your body shivers under her fingertips, the way your skin heats up as she kisses her way down, the way you twitch as she makes contact with your drooling pussy, and she obviously can't forget about the way you moan. seeing the effect she has on you brings her such indescribable pleasure, normally resulting in her fucking you for hours — whether it's with her mouth, fingers, or strap —.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that will hurt you + stuff you aren't into.

she cannot stand even the mere thought of you being in actual pain while being intimate, especially not pain she caused. despite her rough she can be, you're her whole life and she never wants you to be in any discomfort. she's not into hitting you, making you bleed, nor truly making you cry.

for sub!cait, she's not into anal. the idea turns her off and it's not something she's excited — willing — to try.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

she loves both giving and receiving.

this woman eats pussy like she's starving and never bothers to hide it. she knows how to use her mouth; dragging her tongue up and down your slick folds and toying with your red clit before sucking harshly — a combination of her saliva and your arousal dripping down her chin —. she takes pleasure in making you feel good, though there are times where all she needs is your head between her legs.

on those nights after she came home exhausted, all she needs is you. she's way too tired to pleasure you so she prefers you making her feel good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

slow yet rough!

taking her time with you it's something she adores. she always makes sure every single inch of you is kissed and worshipped before finally fucking you. she keeps her pace slow but her thrusts are brutal; driving her strap so deep until it kisses your cervix. she snaps her hips against yours precisely, her moves calculated and made to turn you into a whining mess. if it was up to her, she'll fuck you like that every time, though she eventually increases her speed once you start begging her to do so.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

only on those moments where she's in a rush or you two don't have enough privacy. she's not a big fan because it doesn't allow her to explore your body but she doesn't hate quickies — she never hates having sex with you —. quickies are something you two mostly do in her office or before attending somewhere.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

for sure.

caitlyn loves trying new things and she's constantly showing you stuff she'd like to try; it'd be adorable how excited she gets if it weren't for the filthy stuff she shows you. it's not that your sex life is boring or anything like that — on the whole contrary, you two are young and full of energy — but she likes to experiment. her risks are meticulously planned, though. if you're fucking in a more public space and you think you two are going to get caught, you're wrong; she had already this whole meeting and made sure no one was going to be present — yet she would never tell you —.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

she cums way too fast whenever she's too excited/aroused but her stamina makes up for it. she can go for 4-5 rounds before taking a break, using that time to make sure you're okay and shower you with praises.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

just some straps and a vibrator.

she uses the vibrator on you but never makes you cum with it, quickly replacing her fingers or her mouth — wanting to feel you releasing under her proper touch —. she has two straps — a thick and long one and a smaller one — and she uses them on you and you use them on her.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

just a little bit.

it's usually something she does unconsciously when she makes you wait, soft murmurs of 'be patient', 'let me enjoy your body a bit more, love', 'so needy', leaving her lips as she explores your body and makes sure you're dripping for her. she doesn't do it on purpose because she knows you won't hesitate on giving her a taste of her own medicine the next time you're topping, and this woman can't handle teasing — she tries but she always fails to keep her composure —.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

she tries to control herself but always ends up failing.

she lets out soft sighs of pleasure at first, bitting down on her bottom lip or placing the back of her hand over her lips as a way of silencing the louder noises that threaten to slip out, though she can't hold back for much longer. eventually, those faint breaths turn into moans, not loud enough to alarm neighbors but louder than her previous sounds. she definitely gets more high-pitched and close to whining when she's about to orgasm, her sounds breathy and broken.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

doesn't matter how many times you two have done it, she still gets all giddy.

her hands get all shaky and sweaty, her lips formed into a dumb smile as she stares at you — revealing her tooth gap —, and her cheeks flushed with a pink hue. she secretly loves the effect you always have on her and it's something that'll never fail to amaze her; the ability you have to turn her into a mess.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

7.5 inch dark blue strap, i don't make the rules.

if we're talking about underwear, this woman wears the finest there is. she has the most beautiful, lace matching sets ever — almost all of them dark blue, of course, though she has some black ones — and also robes.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

high.

she's obsessed with you. one glance at your sweaty, burnt out body and she immediately wants to go for another round. if you're too tired or simply not in the mood for more, she holds onto the little self control she has left and forces herself to stop being a horny little bastard — prioritizing your boundaries —.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it kinda depends on how spent she is.

if she's not so tired, she'll simply wrap her arms around you and pull your head against her chest; wanting you to fall asleep first before she eventually closes her eyes. if she is tired, she falls asleep pretty quickly. she'll keep you close to her body as she allows herself to relax, enjoying how the warmth of your body envelops her.

#caitlyn kiramman #arcane #arcane show #arcane season 2 #caitlyn kiramman smut #caitlyn kiramman x you #caitlyn kiramman x reader #nsfwalphabet #my stuff:3 #request:D #btw sorry for taking so long 😭😭

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insidekatmind · 2 days ago

Text

Guard~ Hwang Jun-ho

Wearning: +18,smut

Request: yes!

You were taken to a mysterious place, where the games of your childhood came back to haunt you in a deadly way. The rules were simple: win or die. If you broke a rule, you weren't just eliminated. You were killed.

Shot to death for a simple childish game.

But the prize was tempting: 6 billion won. An amount that drove 456 desperate people, including you, to risk everything.

This place is called The Squid Games.

Around you, men with black masks that hide their faces. The masks have different symbols: the squares are the Managers, those who command; the triangles are the Soldiers, armed with guns always ready; and the circles are the simple workers, who never speak unless ordered to do so.

At first, you didn't know who they really were, but there was a man among them, watching you. Silent, attentive.

His name is Jun-ho.

---

Jun-ho was not like the others. Behind the Manager mask, he hid a secret: he was looking for his brother, In-ho, the winner of the 28th edition of the games, who disappeared without a trace. To find answers, Jun-ho had infiltrated the workers, assuming the identity of one of them.

And then he met you.

The second game was to cut out a perfect shape from a piece of caramelized sugar. If you broke the shape, you were eliminated on the spot.

Sitting on the ground, you clutched your small umbrella in your shaking hands. You knew it was the most difficult shape to cut out. The screams of those who failed filled the air, followed by the dry sound of gunshots.

You concentrate, breathing hard, sweat dripping down your forehead. Finally, with one last precise movement, the umbrella shape comes off without breaking.

You smile, relieved. You get up and approach a Manager to show off your work. He slowly turns to you. Under the square mask, Jun-ho’s eyes soften for a moment, almost imperceptibly.

“Done,” you say softly, a hint of pride in your voice.

He nods. “Good job.”

From that moment, something changes

---

After the brutal test of Tug of War, you are in the bathroom, in front of the mirror, cleaning a cut on your face. During the game, another participant accidentally scratched you with his nail as you struggled not to fall.

You are rubbing the wound with a piece of cloth, when the bathroom door slowly opens.

A man in a square mask enters, looking around before closing the door behind him. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“Rough game, hm?” he says softly, his voice recognizable despite the hushed tone.

you sigh as you dry yourself "no, do you think so?" you say sarcastically

"Hm, I have a feeling you'd be sarcastic," he says under his mask, leaning against the bathroom wall.

"it's the only thing I have left," you mutter tiredly. Under his mask, Junho's eyes softened as he listened to your words. Seeing you so clearly struggling and exhausted from the games was a hard sight to behold. He was silent for a moment before answering softly, "Don't say that."

You turn to look at him. "But it's the truth. In these games, you risk your life, it's easy to talk for you."

"I risk my life too, you know, doll." He retorts, and the nickname slips off his tongue before he can even register what he said. He paused for a second, before answering softly, "Believe me, it's not easy at all."

you look at him in disbelief, not believing him. "and let's hear what you're risking? you're a guard"

He laughs at your response and shakes his head slightly under his mask. He pushes himself away from the wall, taking a step towards you as he answers in a low voice,

"And if you think that being a guard is just fun and games, you're wrong. Do you have any idea what we've been ordered to do?"

you look at him carefully "kill people? well I notice that you do it with great pleasure" you blurt

He lets out a soft sigh under his mask, almost rolling his eyes at your words. He continues to walk towards you, until he's right in front of you, with his back to the wall. As he looks down at you, his voice drops: "You don't know how things really are. Do you think it's a choice? No, it's an order. We were told to do it. Not that you'd understand that, right?"

"He is only one, there are many more of you, the story of not having a choice doesn't hold up" you huff

He let out a soft sigh as you continued to argue with him. Then he leaned even closer, his body practically against yours as he looked down at you. The black mask on his face hid the slight frown on his lips. "Do you think the guards don't have to obey? Do you think we have the choice to stop or not follow orders? Do you think we have the choice to say no?" He asks firmly, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"I repeat, he is only one and there are many more of you" you move closer to him leaving no space. He lets out a small, bitter laugh under his mask as you enter his space.

He couldn't deny the fact that you were stubborn, and annoying. He stood there for a moment, still looking down at you as he held his body against yours. Then he answered in a low voice, "Are you always this stubborn?"

"I'm usually quiet but this place drives me crazy" you mutter looking at him. He lets out another soft sigh, shaking his head slightly under his mask.

After a moment, he lifts a hand to your head and gently moves a lock of hair from your face. He pauses, before saying in a more calm tone than before: "Yeah, I don't blame you. This place does the same to me too".

You lean into his touch feeling a sweet caress after a long time. He feels you leaning into his touch, that you're almost melting completely. His fingers continued to gently brush your hair, before moving to gently cup your face. He let out a silent sigh as his thumb carefully brushed your cheek.

You sigh softly and lean into him more. "It feels so good to be caressed after so long".

He can’t help but frown under his mask when he feels you lean into him. He slowly moves his other hand to grasp your waist, as he carefully guides you forward to rest against his chest.

He wraps his arms around you gently, holding your body against his, and his hands draw gentle circles on your back. His eyes wander once more to the cut on your face as he says softly, “Doll, why didn’t you clean yourself up properly? You even have a cut on your face.”

You sigh softly and hug him, “Who cares, I’ll have more,” you whisper tiredly. He feels you gently wrap your arms around him, causing his to tighten around you. He sighs softly under his mask when you mention the possibility of him having more injuries. “I don’t want you to get any more. Especially while you’re here in the arena.” He responds by gently holding the back of your head against his shoulder.

You hum in response and let yourself go to the feel of his arms around your body. He stays silent as he listens to you hum softly, letting his mind focus on the feel of you against him.

He held you tightly to his body, not wanting to let go so soon.

The feeling of having you in his arms was something he didn’t want to give up so quickly. He liked the way you leaned into him, the way you let him hold you, even though we were in the bathroom.

His arms still held you against his chest, his chin resting on your head. He could faintly smell your shampoo, a pleasant smell that made him tighten his arms around you slightly.

He was silent for a moment, before saying softly, “You know I’m going to be in trouble if anyone catches us like this.”

You nodded weakly into his arm again. “Do you want me to let go?” You whispered, hoping he’d say no.

Feeling your body nod against his, he let out a soft sigh as he rolled his eyes under his mask. He pulled you a little closer, not letting go even a little. “If I told you I wanted you to move, would you?” he murmurs softly as he rubs your back.

"well i would struggle but yes" you whisper again into his arms. When he hears you answer, he lets out a soft hum, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He pushes you back, until you are pinned against the wall, your body still in his arms. He freezes you in place as he bends down to your height, his mask right next to your ear. "Doll, are you sure you really want to leave? You look reluctant." He murmurs softly.

"no i don't" you whisper as you hold him close. He lets out a soft smirk when he hears your words, a victorious smile beneath his mask. "That's what i thought. You're not really willing to leave, huh?" He runs his hands up your sides, his fingers delicately tracing your curves. He had you pinned to the wall, not letting you move even a little.

The feel of your body against his, the way you leaned into him made his face heat up. He leaned down, lowering his mask slightly to your neck and feeling his warm breath on your skin. He murmured softly, "Tell me, doll. Do you know how hard it is for me to stay calm when I'm with you?"

you look at him softly, "can you take off your mask?" The request takes him a little by surprise, but he quickly regains his composure. He looks at you from under the mask, considering your words. After a moment, he slowly raises his hands and removes the mask that covers his face. He places the mask on one of the nearby sinks, before looking back at you, his dark eyes meeting yours. His hair was falling delicately over his forehead, giving him a slightly disheveled look.

You smile softly and caress his cheek. "You're so beautiful," you whisper softly. When he feels your hand gently caress his cheek, his face reddens from the unexpected compliment. He looks at you and sees a soft smile on your lips, and it makes his heart beat faster. He responds softly, his voice a little softer than before, "Do you really think so?"

You smile softly and nod. He swallows slightly, his face still red as you nod in agreement. sign of confirmation. "Doll, you shouldn't say things so suddenly. You'll make me act even more out of place than I already have." He murmurs softly as he moves his head to lean into your touch.

"do it," you whisper. When he hears such direct words from you, he lets out a sigh of relief.

He then grabs your wrists, pinning you against the wall again; this time both wrists are in his grip. “You’re only making it worse for yourself, doll. You really shouldn’t say things like that.” He says in a low, slightly warning tone.

He leaned in closer, his body pressed against yours, your wrists still in his grip. He looked at you intently, his expression a little serious, but with a slight hint of something else. “Let me ask you this, doll. Do you want me to go further?”

You look at him and nod quickly. He’s slightly surprised when you nod quickly in response. He smirks slightly as he looks up at you and studies your face carefully. “You’re so quick to say that, doll. I wonder if you’ll regret it later.”

He leans in even further, pinning your wrists against the wall above your head. Then he moves closer to your neck, his breath warm on your skin as he murmurs softly. “But I won’t stop.”

His lips soon move to your neck, gently planting kisses on your sensitive skin. He moved slower, savoring the feeling of having you in his arms. He continues to hold your wrists still, preventing you from moving, while his other hand slowly slides down your body. You moan and cling to him.

When he hears your moan, he makes a soft hum against your neck. He slowly feels you grab him, as if you want to pull him closer, as if you want his body against yours. He gently bites your skin, trailing kisses along your neck with his lips, until he reaches your ear. He whispers in a low, warm tone, "You're mine, doll. Just remember that." You nod in response.

He lets out another soft hum as he feels your head nod against his body. He feels you pressing yourself more and more against him, as if you were submitting completely to his touch. He slowly lets his hands wander over your body, his touch firm against your curves. He murmurs in a low, possessive tone against your ear, “Be a good doll and hold still for me, okay?” You nod again in response.

When he says these words, he feels your body tremble slightly, as he slowly caresses your hips with his hands. His touch on your skin is gentle yet firm, as if he’s making sure to memorize every inch of you. He begins to slide his hands gently down your body, his fingers tracing your curves until they reach your face. He looks down at you, meeting your eyes. “You look so beautiful like this, doll.”

He raises his hand and gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and tender on your skin. His dark eyes scan your features, carefully studying every detail of your face: from your lips to your cheeks, to the slight cut on your face. He looks down at you for a few seconds before murmuring softly, "You look so fragile like this. You're mine, and tonight I'll remind you of that." Hearing those words, you moan in response.

He lets out a small smirk in response to the sound of your moan. His hands slowly slide to your hips, gripping you gently as he pulls you closer to his body. He murmurs in a low, firm tone, "You make it harder for me to hold back, doll."

He leans back slightly and his eyes travel back up your body, pinned to the wall. He looks down at you, his expression a little serious, but revealing something else. “You know, honey, I’m going to make sure you’re completely mine before the night is out.” You whimper in response.

He slowly leans forward again, pinning you to his body. He looks at you intently, his eyes locking with yours. Then he slowly murmurs against your ear, his voice low and seductive, "You know I won't be gentle, doll. I'm going to have you all to myself tonight." You moan softly, getting excited at his words,

He feels your moan against his body and it makes his body heat up. He slowly lowers his hands, grabbing your thighs and lifting you up quickly, your legs wrapping around his waist. He pins you more firmly against the wall, making sure you're locked in place.

He feels your body shaking against his, your arms wrapping around his neck as you hold on tight. He watches you as you're against the wall, his eyes locked on your face. He studies your expression for a few seconds before letting out a small smirk. "Doll, you really don't know how hard you make it for me to control myself."

You look at him longingly and kiss him. He’s a little surprised when you suddenly kiss him, not expecting such a bold move from you. He kisses you quickly, his lips moving against yours in a firm but somehow gentle way. He slowly moves his hands up, grabbing your wrists as he pins your body to the wall again, now holding both of your wrists in his grip.

His lips move against yours, his kiss slowly becoming more intense as he pins your body to his. He continues to hold your wrists with one hand, not letting you escape his touch. After a moment he pulls away and looks at you, your face red and slightly breathless from the kiss. “Baby, you make it hard to hold back.” He says softly, his eyes roaming over your face.

“I need you,” you murmur longingly. He lets out a soft sigh when he hears those words come out of your mouth. He looks at you intently, his eyes meeting yours. He sees the desire on your face, and he’s both surprised and excited by it. Then he responds softly, his voice almost whispering, “Do you want me that bad, doll?”

“Yes please,” you murmur in response. He lets out a soft hum as he looks up at you and notices the pleading look on your face. His expression softens slightly, a hint of possession in his eyes. “Beg all you want, doll. I won’t be gentle. Tonight I’m going to have you all to myself.” You groan in anticipation.

He quickly turns around and walks with you in his arms, still holding you tightly in his grip. Then he places you on the nearest bed, positioning you right in the middle. Then he looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body. He grabs your thighs and pulls you towards him, moving you over the sink

He places himself between your legs, his body hovering over yours. He looks down at you, a small smirk on his lips. Then he slowly runs his hand up your leg, his touch almost reverent. “You look so beautiful like this, doll. All mine, just for me.” You moan in response.

He quickly begins to undo your shirt, his fingers working deftly, fast and precise. Your shirt soon opens, exposing your skin to his gaze. Then he looks down at you, his gaze slowly wandering over your body. His expression is a little hungry as he looks at you, his eyes slowly darkening. “Doll, you look so beautiful. You have no idea how hard it is for me to control myself with you like this.”

He moves his hands down, gently touching your skin as his fingers begin to explore every inch of your body. It’s not gentle; his touch is firm and somewhat possessive. He slowly moves closer to you, his body pressing against yours as he leans down. His lips are right next to your ear and he murmurs softly, “You feel so good under my touch, doll. I want you so bad right now.”

You whimper at his touch wanting more and you cling to him. Jun-ho removes his clothes and rubs his hardness against your entrance and then enters you making you moan loudly. He starts to move against you harder and harder, he was true to his word. He wasn’t gentle at all. His hips move at a slow but steady pace, each thrust is hard and deep.

With each thrust you moan loudly as you cling to him. He watches you intently, his eyes locked on your face as he notices the look of pleasure on your face. “You feel so good, doll. It’s like you were made for me this beautiful pussy” he moans thrusting even harder.

He can feel you trembling under his touch, your body responding in ways that only make him wilder. He moves closer to you, his body flush against yours as he continues to move against you. His mouth moves down to your neck, where he gently sucks your skin, leaving little marks in his wake. “You’re mine, baby. I’m the only one who can see you like this. You’re mine and mine alone.”

He picks you up and fucks you in his arms, hitting you deeper and deeper. "this pussy is so tight" he grunts, fucking you harder and you scream.

"I'm close" you murmur, moaning and Jun-ho smiles and pushes his hips even more brutally. "cum for me doll" he murmurs and you come hearing his words.

Jun-ho smiles and pushes himself even more brutally and then cums inside you. You screamed from the mixture of pain and pleasure. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and he smiles. "You're mine, there's no escape now" he whispers in your ear.

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