#not even the gross “both sides” thing

[rafesangelita]

sheep!reader going to a party w rafe? 🤍

warnings: icky!s1!rafe, heavy teasing, drug use, kelce and topper are kinda gross, public groping, smoking, peer pressure (?), sheep is slightly embarrassed but too shy to say anything, a little bit of rough handling, suggestive language, rafe saying he’ll ‘share’ sheep..

a/n: season one rafe has me by my neck rn..

“well, look who we have here!” topper lifted his head from the white line he was about to snort off of the coffee table before scooting over, making room on the sofa for you and rafe to squeeze between him and kelce. rafe was all smiles when he pulled you onto his lap, your cheeks heating as you felt your dress ride up your thighs. “i didn’t think we’d ever see you at a party..” topper leaned in, the close proximity making a shiver run down your spine. truth be told, you didn’t think you’d ever be seen at a party either, but here you were, your boyfriend’s fingers slipping under your dress while two of his best friends watched you with lustful eyes.

it had taken a good portion of the evening for rafe to convince you to come out with him, your heart hammering in your chest the whole ride over here. not knowing what to say, you hid your face in rafe’s chest, all three of them laughing at your shy demeanor. “aww, come on, let us see that pretty face.” you stayed hidden, rafe’s large palm kneading your flesh as he reached for the bong on the table. “kelce, ‘you light me up?” you heard the flicker of a lighter, peeking up from rafe’s shirt as he inhaled from the glass structure, the sound of bubbles filling up your ears.

rafe took a long drag, holding the smoke in for a few moments before blowing all of it in your face, making you gasp softly before you started coughing. your eyes watered, the two boys on either side of you dabbing each other up as they found amusement in your obvious discomfort. “rafe..” you whispered, a pout adorning your lips while he pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot on your neck. you couldn’t help the small whimper from leaving your lips, the sound drawing both topper and kelce’s attention. “damn, rafe, when are you gonna let us get in on this?” kelce placed a hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin.

“forreal, this shy little thing is just so cute.” topper added, his hand finding the small of your back. rafe could tell by the nervous look on your face that you weren’t sure how to react, his facial expression turning into one of amusement. “tell you what..” he stroked the side of your face, “give me a bump and we can share.” seeing the way your eyes widened was almost comical, topper wasting no time in scooping some of the blow onto his finger tip. “give this to him, sweetheart.” instinctively, you accepted his digit, letting him lay the blow on the back of your hand.

holding your hand up to rafe’s nose, he covered one of his nostrils, snorting the powder until only a little bit of residue was left. “lick it.” rafe gripped the back of your neck, him and his friends staring at you intently. “yeah, do it, baby.” “you’ll feel so good..” you swallowed thickly, your eyebrows drawing together as they watched your tongue lick a small stripe up your skin. apart of you was scared of the after effects of this stuff, but still, you obeyed. rafe was smiling ear to ear, his corruption kink going off the charts right now. “what the fuck!” topper laughed, both him and kelce sitting in disbelief.

“she really fucking did it?!” kelce moved closer, your boyfriend roughly grabbing your cheeks as he shook your head around. “of course she did,” he cupped you through your panties, “she’ll do whatever i tell her to.. right, ‘pretty?” you nodded, gripping rafe’s forearm as topper moved your hair to one side of your frame. “come on, man, just a taste.” rafe pulled you into a kiss, his palm coming up to cup your tits over the lacey material of your dress. despite his earlier words, rafe was far too greedy to share you with anyone. “not a fucking chance, thornton.”

[miizuzu]

Once upon a dream

“I think I should start looking for a boyfriend.” Satoru spat out his vanilla flavored milkshake as he listened in from a bug he planted in your jacket. “Gross, Gojo.” Nanami glares at Satoru then turns away. Satoru got up quickly and ran outside. 

You were on your lunch break and were eating outside your workplace with Yuki, your friend/co-worker. Yuki raised one of her brows and questions. “Why the sudden change of heart?” You really couldn't tell her it is because of all the lewd dreams you have been having, you thought it was your brain telling you it was time to start planning for a relationship. “Umm… you know, I'm not getting any younger. Maybe it's time to meet new people.” That was the only excuse you could think of. 

Satoru nervously bites his thumb while he listens in. He knows the exact reason why you wanted to look for someone, HE was the cause after all. He's been waiting for the perfect moment to finally ‘meet’ you, guess he has to accelerate his plans.

Satoru pops his head back into the office and tells Nanami he will go out and do his rounds, Nanami stood up and decided he would go together, which Satoru didn't expect but agreed anyway. 

Satoru's office was actually pretty close to where you work, so he decided to walk that way and hopefully, maybe some miracle would happen where he would be able to talk to you. He must have done something to favor the gods, since the perfect opportunity came as he finally saw you. 

Yuki wanted to have one last smoke before break ends and had gone back inside because she left her lighter in the locker. Some shady looking guy was hiding in the shadows and jumped out to grab your bag once he saw you alone. Satoru and Nanami both knew what he was up to and ran towards you. 

The thug pulled your bag away from you, knocking you down while he tried to escape. Nanami went to you and tried to help you up while Satoru ran after the thief. You were too shocked to process what had just happened, Nanami stayed with you as Satoru catches the thief and walks back towards you.

Satoru was shocked when he saw the way you were looking at Nanami, your cheeks were bright pink and you nervously looked away while trying to sneak peaks of him. Satoru thought to himself, ‘I should have been the one she’s admiring, I caught the thief!’ 

“Miss, are you alright?” Nanami asks gently, and all you could do was nod your head. Satoru pushes the thief towards Nanami as he hands you back your bag. “Would you like to check if there's anything missing?” Satoru smiles at you, catching your attention as you stare at his eyes. 

“Beautiful…” you gasp as you realize you said that out loud. Satoru had a confident smirk on his face. “Thanks, but we really need you to check if there is anything missing.” You bashfully grabbed your bag from Satoru and looked through your things. “Everything is here. Thank you officers.” 

“If it is not too much trouble, could I please ask you to follow us back to the station to file a report?” Satoru asks, mainly trying to find an opportunity to ‘finally learn your name from you’. “I'm actually just on my lunch break, I have to go back to work.” You were shaking from all that just happened and Satoru saw it. “I'm sure your employer would understand and let you take an early leave, I'll even go with you.” Satoru suggests. 

“While you two do that, I will take him back to the station first.” Nanami told Satoru as he started heading towards the police station. “Umm, excuse me! Do you mind… if I ask you for your name?” You shyly peaked at Nanami. “Nanami Kento.” He replied with a smile as he turned and walked away.

You were still in your little zoned out state as Satoru jealously watches your eyes follow Nanami. “Should we head inside?” Satoru snaps you back to reality. “Umm, yes. Sorry about that. Thank you for all your help.” You politely bow at him. “My name is Satoru Gojo, do you mind telling me yours?” He playfully tilts his head to the side. “My name is Y/N L/N, sorry, I'm still feeling a little shaken up from what just happened.” 

Satoru was glad he finally became acquainted with you, but now he has a problem. You are clearly interested in Nanami and he needs to make sure this doesn't develop into something more. 

Satoru went with you to explain what just happened to your employer and they gave you the rest of the day off. Satoru walked with you to the police station and filed a report. He offered to take you home as well since you might be scared to be alone, which he was right. 

You didn't want to bother Satoru and was about to turn down his offer when he told you that he was actually getting off and really wanted to see you get home safely. You finally agreed and waited as he changed out of his uniform before he took you home. 

The two of you walk side by side, Satoru has his hands in his pocket, while you secretly sneak side peaks at him. You were so preoccupied with Nanami earlier that you didn't realize Satoru, he's tall and is in great shape, he's handsome and you can't help but think he has the most beautiful eyes. You also couldn't shake the feeling that you've seen him before but can't remember from where, you just find him really familiar.

Satoru realized you were looking and smiled to himself again, he wanted to take up all of your thoughts, make you think of only him, him, him. 

The two of you chatted a bit more while waiting for the bus and you told Satoru a little more about yourself, how you live alone and don't have too many friends, which Satoru already knows about but acts like he just found out. When the bus finally arrived, it was almost at full capacity, which was in Satoru's favor. 

People were pushing and shoving around, and he got the perfect opportunity to be close to you. He got you safely caged between his arms while providing you enough personal space, he would occasionally get shoved towards you and his body would ‘accidentally’ press against yours, making you flushed. 

You suddenly remember your dreams when Satoru was shoved against you once more, his tone chest was pushed right against your burning cheeks, you couldn't help but bring your hands up and tried to gently push him back. Your finger accidentally brushes against his nipple and he lets out a quiet moan only you were able to hear. Your eyes widened and shot up to his face, your hand gripping tightly on his shirt in front of his chest, Satoru was blushing and tried to hide his face with one of his hands and you thought he was the cutest thing. 

You should really apologize but when you opened your mouth, wanting to say sorry, the word “Cute” came out instead. Satoru now staring down at you with widened eyes, he wants to be ‘cool’ or ‘hot’ in front of you, not ‘cute’. He slightly pouted and you just couldn't help but want to see more of his face. 

You didn't know what overcame your thoughts, you forgot where you are, or that this is the first time you've met Satoru, he feels so familiar to you that it just felt right. You moved your hand over his chest again, brushing over his now hardened nipple as he twitched from your touch. You kept playing with his nipple while your ear still pressed on his chest, listening to his quicken heart beats, even bringing up your other hand to play with the other side. Satoru was trying to act normal but you could tell his breathing has become irregular, he is taking breaths through his mouth, trying not to let another moan slip.

As much as Satoru liked the way you were playing with him, he noticed it was getting close to your stop. He noticed one of your hands was slowly traveling down, feeling his toned abs as it got lower and lower. 

Satoru grabs your wrist, which finally snaps you out of your trance. You instantly became bright red, unsure what took over you, just as you were about to say something, Satoru whispers in your ear first. “Didn’t think you were this brave to do this on the bus to someone you've just met. We have been on the bus for a while, did we miss your stop?” Satoru knows the stop is up ahead and wants to make sure you don't miss it. 

Finally aware of your surroundings, you noticed you would be getting off at the next stop. “It’s the next stop… Please forgive me! I'm usually not like this.” You were so embarrassed you couldn't look at him in the face. Satoru just let out a smile and didn't say anything else. 

Finally getting off the bus, you speed ahead as Satoru catches up to you easily with his long legs. When arriving at your house, you quickly turned around and bowed at a 90 degree angle, apologizing for what you did to him on the bus, hoping he wouldn't arrest you for sexual harassment. 

“Is it ok with you… if I come see you again?” Satoru shyly pouts as he asks you the question, while avoiding eye contact. You blushed again but nodded your head. “Can I get your phone number? It's rude to just show up unannounced.” Satoru tries to make up a reason for him to officially get your number, even though he already had it memorized a long time ago. “Sure Mr. Gojo.” You shyly take his phone and enter your contact info. “Please, just call me Satoru.” His smile was so bright it could put the sun to shame. 

“Well then, Satoru, see you around.” You said your goodbyes and rushed inside. You were still trying to process what got over you earlier when Satoru texts you.

‘It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I really hope we get to see each other again soon.’ 

You clutched your phone close to your chest, trying to calm yourself down. You ran to your sofa and layed on your back, staring at your phone contact. You vaguely remember meeting someone with white hair like his, you thought it would just be a crazy coincidence and it was just someone who looked like him. He does, however, make you think about all the wet dreams you've been having. The male figure seems similar to Satoru's frame and you just love the way he moaned when you touched him. You still couldn't figure out how you had the courage to do what you did, it felt natural, like your body had been trained. 

You shook off the idea and decided to take a shower and cool your head. You ate your dinner shortly after and headed to bed. You finally decided to reply to Satoru's text. 

You: ‘It was really nice meeting you too. Thank you for everything you did today, hope you have a great night.’ 

Satoru: ‘Would you mind if we get lunch together tmr? 👉👈’

You: ‘my lunch break is pretty short, I usually just pick up something small in the morning and call it. If you don't mind, I could pick up extra and we could eat together?’ 

Satoru: ‘That sounds fantastic!! I'll see you tomorrow. Let me know when I should head over. Good night Y/N hope you have a sweet dream.’ 

You: ‘thanks, you too. Good night Satoru.” 

You put your phone to the side and turned and faced your pillow and let out a happy scream. Just as you thought you would like to find someone to start a relationship with, Satoru magically appears in front of you, not to mention he's super good looking and fit. You pretty much had forgotten all about Nanami and your head was just filled with Satoru. 

You fell asleep shortly from being overexcited, you had another dream but this time it's more tame. The male figure has been replaced with Satoru, the 2 of you were just going out on dates and having a great time. 

Little did you know Satoru was in your house again watching you sleep. He was about to lose it when he heard you giggling in your sleep then proceeded to call out his name. It took everything in him to not just wake you up and have his way with you. He knew you would never forgive him if he did, so he just kissed you and left for the night. 

The lunch date went as planned, your co-workers all gathered around you after lunch, they all wanted you to fill them in for how you managed to score a hot guy like Satoru. Choso was avoiding you and Yuki felt sorry for him, knowing he had the biggest crush on you but you were just too oblivious. 

Satoru would meet you daily and have lunch with you. After a week of lunch dates he finally asked you if you could be his girlfriend which you quickly said yes.

You asked Yuki to shop with you on your next day off, you wanted to upgrade your wardrobe but not sure what you should get. Yuki brought you to a lingerie store and said now that you have a boyfriend, those might come in handy. Satoru secretly wants to thank Yuki for that. 

You were checking the lingerie sets and one particular set caught your eyes. It was a pretty white lace set with a couple of cute baby blue ribbons. You bought it along with a few that Yuki chose for you. 

Satoru was excited since he only heard your conversation with Yuki and didn't actually follow you this time, even though he left the bug on you so he could always hear what you're up to. It’s not that he doesn't trust you, he worries that the other guys would try to make a move on you and steal you away. 

When you got home, Satoru called you and told you he made plans for a dinner date at a fancy restaurant and would pick you up after work. Just as you start to panic about what you should wear, your doorbell rings. Satoru had ordered you an outfit to wear for your dinner. 

The outfit was a 2 piece set, the top was a white turtleneck with a baby blue scarf like material around the neck and the bottom was a long skirt with the same blue that matched the scarf. You were happy with the outfit, it was something similar to what you normally would wear but looks a bit better.

You wore your lingerie and outfit to work that day, your male co-workers couldn't keep their eyes off you. Choso straight out started nose bleeding when he saw you. Your outfit was no were close to revealing, but the material was hanging on your body just right, the little scarf around your neck looks like a ribbon of a present, which they all want to unwrap. 

You helped Choso clean up and he found out about the reason for the outfit you were all dressed up for today. Choso felt a ping of jealousy, he thought to himself ‘if your outfit got ruined, would you still go on your date?’ he quickly shook the idea out of his mind, he knew you would be upset if that happened. He just secretly wished you would notice his feelings for you. 

Satoru shows up in his car to pick you up after work, along with a bunch of white and blue roses. Making all your female co-workers envy you as you got in his car. 

“You look really pretty in that outfit.” Satoru checks you out up and down. “Thank you for picking it out for me, I loved it.” You leaned over and placed a quick peck on his cheeks. Satoru wanted to push your seat down and do you right there, but he held back. 

You arrived at the restaurant, it was in a tall building overlooking the city below. You look around and find there was no one else around when Satoru told you he reserved the whole restaurant for just the 2 of you. You slightly pouted and told him to stop wasting his money like this, and that you would be happy even if he had brought you to McDonalds. 

The food started coming and you had forgotten about everything else. Everything tasted so good you thought you could really get used to this. 

After dinner Satoru was driving you home, testing waters by placing his hand between your thighs while his fingers intertwined with yours. You didn't stop him, only stared out the window as your cheeks become red, making him hum in satisfaction. 

Satoru helped you with bringing the roses into your house. And as he stood at the doorway about to leave, you stood in front of him. “Thank you for the fantastic night Satoru.” You looked into his eyes with desire, making his Adam apple bobbed from your intense stare. “If you stare at me like that, it makes me not want to leave.” Satoru looks at you with darkened eyes, placing his hand on your cheek and brushing your lower lip with his thumb. “Then sta-” his lips had instantly captured yours, not even letting you finish. 

He picked you up in one arm while he took his shoes off again, his lips not leaving yours even for a second. You told him the direction to your room, which he had already been a thousand times without you knowing. 

He laid you down on the bed admiring your beauty for a second as you stared at him with wanting eyes. He pulls on the end of the scarf, undoing the ribbon and slowly lifts your top up and removes it. His breath was caught in his throat when he saw the pretty white lace with the cute blue ribbons. “You're gonna be the death of me.” Satoru leans back in for another kiss as his hands quickly work on removing your skirt too. 

He took another moment to look at you with just your lingerie, his stare so intense which made you move your arms unintentionally to hide yourself. “No, no, no, no sweetheart, don't hide them from me.” Satoru tries to soothe you. “It's not fair if you only get to see…” you shyly pouts at Satoru. 

“You should help me get undressed then.” Satoru smirks at you, bringing your hands to the buttons on his shirt. Your fingers are now working on unbuttoning his shirt as he quickly undo his belt. He takes off his shirt and slides his pants off, you were just staring at him in awe. He looks so beautiful it almost felt unreal, when your hands finally touched him, it almost felt like you've always known him, even if this was the first time. 

“Satoru… I've never done this before, but somehow everything feels so natural. Am I a pervert…?” You covered your face with your hands, feeling so embarrassed for how you feel no restraint even though it was your first time. 

Satoru looks at you with gentle eyes, grabbing your wrist to move your hands away from your face. “It feels this way because you already know me.” You looked confused for a moment, “When?” You questioned him. “Once upon a dream.” You couldn't help but laugh at his cheesy line, once your laughter subsided, you stared into his eyes. “Are you here to make my dreams come true?” Satoru leans in and kisses your forehead, “I would do anything for you.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a longing kiss. Satoru's tongue and yours dance in harmony as his hands wander on your body. He finally removes your bra, licking and kissing down your jaw and neck before reaching your breasts. 

Your cute little moans were driving him crazy, he would buck his hips on your mattress while laying between your legs as he took a big mouthful of your tits one at a time. 

You wanted to pleasure him too, and with a sudden surge of power you were able to push him over. Satoru was shocked as he laid on his back, eyes widened as he looked at you. You moved between his legs and slowly tugged at his boxers. He lifted himself high enough for you to pull it down as his hardened cock springs and smacked again his lower abdomen.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of his cock. You've never seen one up close before, you swallow your saliva a few times and Satoru just watches you as he holds himself up with his elbows, waiting for your next move. He wasn't sure what you would do, would you panic and have second thoughts? 

Just as he thought you were having cold feet, you wrapped your hands around his throbbing cock, earning a whine out of him. Satoru loves how soft your hands are, his pre-cum keeps dripping down. 

You stroke his cock a few times from the base to the tip, making him throw his head back as he loses himself at your touch. You surprised him by putting your lips on the tip of his cock, his eyes snapping back to your face as he reached for your cheeks. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, babe, you don't have to do this.” Satoru's cheeks were burning red as his Adam's apple bobbed. “But I want to.” You looked into his eyes innocently. “You're killing me babe. Ughh fine.” Satoru let go of your face, just as you were about to continue, he had you turn around in a sixty-nine position. “??!!?” you were shocked but Satoru says, “If you get to have your way, I'll get to have mine.” 

He pulled your panties down, you were so wet that there was a string of slick that was attaching your panties to your soaked cunt. Satoru couldn't wait anymore as he ripped the panties right off. “Hey! These were new and it's my favorite set!!” you protest, watching him fling the ripped panties to God knows where. “Don't worry babe, I'll be buying you a thousand more.” 

Satoru licks a strip from your clit to your cunt, moaning and complementing how sweet you tasted. You didn't want to be out done, you started licking him from the base to the tip. “Fuckkkkkk. That feels so good.” Satoru sends vibrations up your cunt as he speaks, making you moan. You take his cock in your mouth, humming as you struggle to take all of him, sending vibrations back to Satoru in a never ending cycle. 

It almost feels like there was a competition going on, each wanting to make the other cum first. But you know you were at a disadvantage since you've never done it before and weren't sure if Satoru had done this with anyone else. Little did you know Satoru was already so far on the edge, he was trying his hardest to not cum right away. 

Satoru tries his best to distract you, he starts rubbing rough circles on your clit as his tongue enters the tightness of your cunt, gliding around in a wicked way. He had your head thrown back for a moment, he could feel your hips moving for more fiction, he inserted his middle finger slowly as his tongue worked its magic. 

You lean back down and start sucking harder on his leaking cock, drinking up his pre-cum, making him buck his hips. You could only fit half of him in your mouth and use your hands to jerk the remaining parts. 

Satoru was so close but wanted you to cum first and knows exactly where your favorite spot is. He hooks his arm around you, holding you down so you won't be able to escape as his middle finger rubs the one spot which makes you release every time. 

You were cumming and trying to pull away, Satoru knows this and already had you pinned down, “Sa-toru!! Cumming!!” Your hands were still around his cock and was squeezing around his base, “Sh-hit me too!!” Satoru came so hard his cum shot up and some landed on your face.

Satoru turned you around once again and had you laying down beside him. He saw his cum on your face and his half softened cock instantly became rock hard again. “You got some on your face, here let me wipe it off.” Satoru was trying to grab a Kleenex when you touched your face. You dabbed some of his cum and licked your finger. Satoru moaned as he watched you taste his cum. “It tastes… sweet.” You smile at Satoru as he wipes the rest off with the Kleenex. 

Satoru was now sitting up between your legs, you could see his cock throbbing painfully hard again. He had one hand on your hip and the other was running small gentle circles on your puffy clit. He wanted more, he wanted to be inside you, he wanted to finally make you his. You could see the desire darken in his eyes, and secret you want the same, you want to be connected to him. 

“Will it hurt?” You shyly ask Satoru. “Maybe, but I will try my best to make you feel good.” Satoru speaks so gently, sending shivers up your spine. “Will it all fit?” You look down at his huge pulsing cock. “Oh I'll make it fit babe.” Satoru smirks with confidence. You put one hand on his forearm and the other over your entrance, holding your folds open with your fingers. “Make me yours, Satoru.” 

Satoru wanted to ram his cock inside you at that second, but he didn't want to hurt you. You could see veins popping up his arms and forehead from restraining himself. 

He leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself from his kiss as his tongue swirls in your mouth. His middle finger is inserted inside your cunt once again. He's pumping his finger in and out of you, once he felt you've loosen up a bit, he inserted his index finger along with the other.

The sudden stretch had you gasping, you already felt so full just from his fingers, how are you going to take all of his cock? Just as your mind wanders off, Satoru wraps his index finger with his middle and starts turning his wrist, sending another wave of pleasure rippling through you. “You're gonna make me cum again!” you tried to warn Satoru, he whispers into your ear as he uses his body to weigh you down. “Cum for me.” 

Your second orgasm hits you harder than the first, making your body spaz under him. Satoru pulls his fingers out and sticks them in his mouth to lick off your slick. He slotted his cock between your folds and rubbed himself against your slit, coating his cock with your slick. 

He lines himself up to your pussy, his tip kissing the entrance. “Are you ready?” He asks as he prepares. You nod your head and he smiles. Satoru grabs onto your hip and slowly pushes his way in. He had you screaming in pleasure as he pushed through the tight walls. “I need you to relax, you are pushing me out.” Satoru pants as he tries rubbing circles on your clit as he pulls back a bit just to push in again. 

You tried your best to relax but it did hurt. You bite down to your bottom lip so hard that it draws blood. Satoru sees this and reminds you to breathe and licks your lips which actually help to calm you down, making you a bit more relaxed. “Good girl, you're doing great.” His words encourage you to relax furthermore. Satoru pushes more of his cock in you, his praise had you gushing around his cock, making it easier to enter. You could feel his cock pushing his way inside, every vein, every throb, molding you into his shape. 

You feel so full of Satoru your eyes become watery from the overwhelming feeling. When your tears finally overflow, Satoru informs you he is all the way in. “You have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Satoru confessed. You weren't sure what he meant, since the 2 of you didn't know each other that long.

Satoru had been stalking you for months and had been doing all kinds of things to you while you were sleeping. You've always thought you were just dreaming, little did you know it was all very very real. 

“I'm going to start moving now, are you ready?” Satoru was not actually trying to ask, he was going to start rolling his hips even if you protest now. But you never did, nodding your head again as he hums with your approval. He starts by pulling back painfully slowly, until only his tip is inside of you, then he pushes his way back in just as slowly, making you whine from slowly being filled up again by his hard throbbing cock. He does that a few more times before you voiced out.

“Satoru!!! Please hah… I need m-more!” You begged, the slow friction was not enough, you were getting greedy. “Of course ngh, anything for my mmm… darling.” His eyes landed on your teary face as he licked his lips. He pulled out slowly one last time and held himself there for a few seconds as he tilted his head back to steady his breath. Just as you were about to call his name again “Sato- ahhh!!” He sheaths himself back into your tight walls in one powerful thrust,  having your back arching off the bed.

Satoru is now thrusting hard and fast at an inhumane pace, you were trying to push him away with your hands before he grabbed hold of your wrists to use them to pull you towards him. “Too much!! Cumming!! Nngh!!” You were gushing all around his cock again but he shows no sign of slowing down. Your orgasm kept going on and on, till your mouth was gaping open and eyes rolled back to the back of your head. 

“Heh… you came so hard just now.” Satoru finally slows down but he is not pulling out. “Sensitive… Satoru, please, I need a break.” You whine and try to back away. He grabbed onto your hips, “No, babe, I haven't cum yet. You're a good girl, you'll let me cum right?” 

Your mind was going blank but you replied with a “mmhmm” which had Satoru suddenly pulled out and turning your body till you're on all four. He lines himself up to your twitching entrance then thrusted himself back in. It feels like his cock is going even deeper in this position, your brain is turning into mush, your arms couldn't hold you up anymore as you collapse onto your bed. Your knees were shaking but Satoru’s grip on your hips held you up. 

He was losing his mind as well, he had one foot planted on the bed as he fucks you hard from behind. His cock hits your g-spot repeatedly and turns you into a drooling mess, you couldn't even form words anymore, your moans were the only sounds coming out of you. 

Your walls were squeezing him so tight he was about to burst. He wasn't sure if you would allow him to cum inside you, since this is your first time. “Babe, I'm cumming, where..” he didn't even finish his question before you screamed out “Inside!! Cum inside!!!” all you heard was another whine from Satoru before hot ropes of cum hit your deepest parts over and over. 

Satoru was being milked dry, but he gladly gives you every last drop. He doesn't pull out, even as he softens, wanting to plug you up so his cum stays in you longer. 

Satoru finally pulled you to his chest as he lay down on your bed, spooning you as he still had you plugged up. You were so exhausted you fell asleep quickly in the comfort of his embrace. Satoru lightly strokes your head and slowly succumbs to his own sleepiness.

Satoru thought he was still dreaming when he woke up with you in his arms early in the morning. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and breathes you in, he could feel his blood rushing to his cock. Satoru whines when he realized he was still safely tucked inside your spongy walls, his raging erection had you stirring while you were still asleep. 

Your little moans and whines were so adorable that Satoru couldn't help but want more friction along his hard length. You weren't wet enough for him to actually move yet, so he slowly rolled you over with your front pressed on the mattress and he pinned you down with his own body as he started playing with your clit. 

You were starting to feel everything, the way Satoru was rubbing circles on your clit and how his half sheathed cock kept throbbing trying to make its way inside. You were fully woken up when Satoru decided to pinch your puffy clit, sending shivers up your spine.

“Sa-toru??! Aah!” As you tried to struggle underneath him, “good morning babe, sorry, I couldn't ngh… help myself.” The attack on your clit gets rougher. You are now wet enough for Satoru to start moving. 

He begins by pulling himself all the way out, the sudden emptiness has your hips chasing his cock. Satoru noticed and let's put a low chuckle, he got off of you and laid on his back, making you wonder why he didn't keep going. 

As you pushed yourself up to look at him, he tapped his thighs, “get on me.” you didn't even get enough time to respond when Satoru's hands found your hips and easily adjusted you on top of him.

“I want you to ride me.” Satoru had you sitting on his cock. Your slit was rubbing along his cock as he moved your hips and grinded against you. “Mmgh.. it's so early in the morning. And we did so much last night.” You tried to protest. “I can never get enough of you, I don't ever want to get separated from you. Plus, I can't leave you all wet and my cock all hard.” 

Satoru has one hand massaging one of your butt cheeks as the other stretches from your hips while his thumb rubs against your clit, why are his hands so big? He also looks at you with his big, beautiful, blue puppy eyes while giving you a little pout. It was a losing battle from the start, there was no way for you to turn down his charm. As you tried to adjust yourself to take him, Satoru let out the brightest toothy smile, making your heart pound against your chest. 

His cock was already standing in full attention as you lifted yourself up to welcome him, you paused as you lined yourself up to his length. You slowly sink yourself down, Satoru was already a leaking mess as you go past the tight ring of muscles. You were already beginning to struggle when he was only half way inside. “You can do it babe, do it for me.” You bite down to your bottom lip as you pull yourself up to sink back into him, which gets him a bit deeper. “Only 3 inches left, you can do it, I know you can.” Satoru tries to talk you through but you thought it would be impossible, 3 more inches??? There is no way you could take all of him. 

“Aahhha… I don't ngh! I can't.. oh!” You were trying hard but you were at your limits. “You must. You took me so well last night. You can do it again.” Satoru moved his big hands to your hips and pulled you down, making you scream from pleasure. He's lifting you up and down his length easily like you were his toy. He’s feral, he had both his feet firmly planted on the mattress as he lifted himself up to thrust up into you. You were trying hard to hold on, you thought this would be similar to a mechanic bull if you ever got on one. Satoru has a death grip on your hips but still feels like you would fly off any second from the way he's thrusting into you. 

You were close to the edge when you looked down on Satoru's face. He was gritting his teeth and his eyebrows were furrowed, he is also at his limits. Your pussy clutches on his cock when you see the expression on his face. “Argh!! I'll cum if you squeeze me that hard.” Satoru was slowly losing his rhythm, this thrusts getting sloppy as he slams you down to his cock. “Cumming!!!” You both said in unison as your bodies twitch and ride out your orgasms. 

Satoru finally collapsed down against the mattress and you on top of him. Both trying to catch your breath, you were looking for your phone to check the time since you have work. You panicked when you saw the time, your alarm had gone off and turned itself off for ringing too long. You tried to pull yourself off of Satoru's cock but your legs gave out, causing the both of you to whine. 

“How am I going to go to work like this??” You were a hard worker, you would go into work even when you're not feeling well. You are also very bad at lying, you are not sure how to let them know the reason why you couldn't go to work. Satoru couldn't help but giggle at the way you were panicking, you glared at him but he just thinks you were the most adorable little thing. 

“You could always just quit and come live off me.” Satoru hums, he was serious about taking care of you. “That's crazy Satoru… we JUST started dating not too long ago. You would really let me live off you?” You raised your brow questioning him. “Mmhmm! You can be my pretty little housewife, you will never have to work a single day for the rest of your life.” He pulls you into his embrace. 

You blush now, Satoru had pretty much just purposes to you, and a part of you wants to just say yes, but another part of you worry, ‘what if this doesn't work out?’ Satoru was never going to let you go now that he felt how your pussy was made for him, he would chase you to the end of the universe. 

You end up calling into work, Satoru had a day off and the 2 of you went to the dessert shop to get your favorite mochi. 

“So you 2 ended up together.” The cashier comments, you blinked at her confused. “Who could forget how pathetic your lover boy was when he didn't get the mochi he wanted, even bagged the other lady to sell him the ones she got.” Satoru was Sheeshing at her and she continued, “You gave him your box of dessert before you ran out.” She looks at you confused, as in she was questioning how you could have forgotten it.

Now that you thought about it, you do recall that happening, finally remembering his fluffy white hair. “Oh my god Nobara! What did we say about being rude to the customers??!” A boy with spiky hair shouts from the back. She stuck out her tongue and walked away, another cheerful boy with pink hair came out and finished serving the 2 of you. 

“So… is there anything you are forgetting to tell me? We didn't really meet by chance did we?” You question Satoru. He was nervous, not sure how to answer. “Only if you promise you will not get mad” Satoru says as he runs ahead of you. 

Notes: sorry this took a while... I had this 90% done and sitting in the drafts and started reading the works of the other wonderful people 🙇 forgive me

[hopelessmidwesterner]

Sugar Babe

Finally got around to finishing this, first published fic on this account, who cheered?! (pls gimme feedback/requests)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Sized/AFAB Reader ★ Established Relationship

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, mentions of ADD lol

WC: 1.3k

*Alternate timeline: a few years after the events of season 4 (spoiler: he lived)*

Inspired by the 1971 song 'Sugar Babe' by Stephen Stills

You were an outlier; you and Eddie both were for an endless number of reasons. One of the most prominent ones to oblivious outsiders looking in was the fact that you were only in your early twenties but you behaved like a couple who’d been married for at least a decade. It grossed the kids out, it warmed older adults’ hearts, and it made your friends of the same age a little envious. Neither of you really saw it as abnormal because it just felt normal; not forced, not overdramatized, not rushed, none of that. It was just natural, good old fashioned love as Wayne liked to describe it.

Now, don’t get anything twisted, the both of you certainly weren’t the perfect couple but you were perfect for one another and that was what mattered. You had plans to get married but not for awhile; 25 at least as you’d said whenever a family member brought it up since you’d been together for a few years already. There were times, however, when Eddie considered just full sending things because of how overwhelmed with love he felt: pawning a ring from the shop just outside town, taking you out some place nice, and proposing even if it threw you for a loop, even if neither of you had more than a few hundred bucks at a time. But he knew that wasn’t how either of you wanted things to play out so he practiced restraint, even on nights like tonight. 

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

“You can do whatever you want to do, you can be who you want to be. Just remember that me and you ain’t all there is to bein’ free.” Your singing was soft and clearly zoned out while you stood at the stove in Eddie and Wayne’s kitchen, eyes honed in on the pot that crackled and popped with searing oil and slivers of potato. Your boyfriend watched you from the opposing counter where he was supposed to be working on a tattoo for someone who’d paid him to design something; a simple sword with song lyrics wrapped around it that resembled vines. It was good money and something he loved to do, but he loved you more. 

“People need love. People need trust. People need one another and that means us. My sugar babe. Believe me, sugar babe.” You didn’t notice him slip off the countertop nor did you seem to hear him slink towards you. If you did, you made no efforts to turn towards him or to ask what he was up to so he continued onwards, sly as a fox. 

“Everyone knows it ain't easy when you get it all together in your heart. It's the easiest thing to do to be pleasin'. Folks ain't made to live apart.” You smiled and hummed as you felt the familiar embrace of Eddie’s arms wrapping around your midsection, his chin settled on your right shoulder so he could see what you were seeing. 

“People need love. People need trust. People need one another and that means us. My sugar babe. Believe me, sugar babe. I'm on your side, sugar babe.” He husked the words with you like they were a prayer and you gushed as you kept an eye on the fries. This was your song, at least one of them, and he called you Sugar Babe as often as he could because it got the biggest smile on your face; prettier than the stars. 

“Let yourself be open, honey, learn to bend. Remember, everyone gets scared, but I'm still your best friend…” He stole a kiss to the side of your head right above the temple and you turned this time, giving him the invitation to grab your hips with a little jig in his stride. 

“When you forget about yourself and think of things to do to make me happy, then you love me girl, like I love you, oh-oh-oh…” He turned the charm up to 100 by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, keeping his warm hand there since it always made you soften. You gave him that sarcastic smirk he loved and he began to lean in, going for the kill. Your eyes fluttered shut when he got close enough for your noses to bump but then a sharp gasp left you as the pot began to sputter a little louder. 

“Oh, shit! Gotta turn ‘em.” You spun around like a top to do as you said, the edge of your elbow brushing across Eddie’s chest; a punch to the heart. You were lucky you were cute. An audible noise that sounded like a mix of irritation and adoration left Eddie so you furrowed your brows while you watched the golden fries bubbling inside the amber colored oil. 

“What?” You asked in question, side eyeing him. He snorted and waited until you’d turned all of the fries over; having set the big spoon you were using back down.The moment it clattered against the spoon rest, he let out a long chuckle and grabbed at your waist once more. 

“Nothing, ‘s nothing, Y/N.” He paused and met your eye as you cocked your head towards him; there’s those pretty blues. “Your ADD is just going ham right now.” You frowned and geared up to give him a sassy defense but he finally gave into his temptation (one of them, at least) and chased your lips with his own; shutting you up mid–sentence with a hungry hold. You gasped into the kiss but melted all the same, similar to putty in his hands and in turn, you held his face with gentle palms that he swore could heal. Your lips finally parted for the sake of air and you clicked your tongue at him once you caught your own breath. 

“You interrupted me.” You said with an accusatory tone, unable to help the giggle that fell through when he started tickling at your ribs. Asshat. 

“That I did, Sugar Babe.” 

“Ass.” He rolled his eyes at you like a diva. He even did the hair flip for fuck’s sake. Drama queen. 

“Oh, whatever. You liked that.”

“Says who?” You challenged it though it was true; this was part of your dynamic with Eddie, after all. 

“Says the pink in your cheeks, Sugar Babe.” You fumed at that and he snickered since you turned an even deeper shade of pink, causing you to grimace at him with a saucy wiggle back towards the pot. Another eye roll came from him even though he knew you couldn’t see him and he sighed with a nonchalant lean forwards, grabbing you and hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing. 

“Eds.” You groaned out of irritance though you made no efforts to stop him; not even any squirming when he had you comfortably settled over his shoulder.

“What?” He whined back in mockery of you, earning a light slap to the middle of his back. 

“Put me down. It’s not good for your back, ya know.” He disregarded your words with a grunt that may as well have said ‘oh, as if’ and he kicked the door to his room open before gently flopping you down onto the center of his bed. 

“Good one, babe. You should try standup.” He toed back to shut the door with his butt and he pulled his shirt off of himself, finding you with a confused gaze that amused him in some odd way. He tilted his head at you inquisitively and climbed on the bed, reaching for you with protective arms. 

“What about the fries?” You asked him shyly. Even after all these years, you still got a little meek during these moments of intensity where all of his attention was on you and you only. He grinned with a shaking head and held your face, squishing at your cheeks just lightly enough to get a low noise of annoyance out of your mouth. God, he loved annoying you. 

“Honestly, sweetheart?” He paused for a moment to kiss you; a long and hungry embrace of battling tongues, clashing teeth, and racing hearts. Butterflies filled both of your stomachs and this time it was his cheeks that turned a deep shade of fuchsia.

“Fuck the fries.”

[astrowarr]

obsessed with your dl analysis. scar hurts himself [to hurt grian] while grian opens up because it sets the precedent, i think. it's his first decision after he discovers (or can't pretend not to know anymore but. y'know. unreliable narrator will unreliably narrate.) that FOR SURE grian is his soulmate and by going and punching the jellie it establishes their dynamic as scar keeping grian hostage in a way? or testing him? considering that he actively weaponizes it later in a soulmate torture for no apparent reason at all, it reads to me as almost punishing. again, all scar has been saying since the start of this season is that he doesn’t need a soulmate, that he doesn’t want to know who he’s bonded to, etc. and grian forces him to acknowledge the bond, keeps on insisting that they base together, that they work together, that they are together because they are soulmates. all the things that scar is averse to. explicitly. now, i don't know what would happen if grian left scar alone before that point or gave up on him after that punch, because we know that grian is incapable of giving up on scar and that universe does not exist, BUT. i think that scar genuinely wanted to be left alone there, "there" meaning the whole season. and after he didn't have that choice - because grian asked him to base together and scar is incapable of denying grian - he wants a little payback? maybe? another thought is that after all of that in scar's eyes grian goes and 'forges his own destiny' with his 'secret soulmate'. his blame can so easily intertwine itself with grian's guilt and they both need to die.

oh im obsessed with this thank you so much for some beautiful scar goodtimes insight... i was definitely also considering the payback theory you mentioned, especially when you think about the fact that prior, grian had Dropped dripstone on his head. and actually, now that I think about it, i feel so much of his behavior might be desperate attempts to attain some sense of control over his circumstances?

i totally agree that the torture was always a form of punishment. i think a big miscommunication between scarian at all points in time is that grian, as a character, holds a lot of agency. he highly prioritizes Choices, and hates relinquishing control. he can't fathom staying anywhere or doing anything he doesn't want to, so what he doesn't understand is that scar isn't like that. when it comes to grian, scar does not care.

he will do literally anything so long as grian stays by his side. like you said, he is physically incapable of denying grian. but on grian's part he cannot even consider that scar is sacrificing anything for him here, because he wouldn't do that. he doesn't think he's ruining any of scar's soulmateless plans because he just fundamentally doesn't understand the power he holds over scar. part of that misunderstanding is definitely by scar's design, who is allergic to letting anyone Know him, especially post last life

it definitely makes sense why scar would be frustrated. a lot of his problems in last life were forged by his choicelessness: his only friend turned red and was forced to cut ties with him, the boogeyman curse continued to alienate him further, it goes on. so here he is in double life, ready to start anew, but then here comes grian his soulmate, asking for his hand. grian, who just by virtue of existing enacts upon scar a specific brand of choicelessness. and now scar is coming to terms with the fact that his feelings for this force of nature of a man have bound him to powerlessness ONCE AGAIN!! FOR THE REST OF HIS LIVES!! and it places him in this gross push-pull where he doesn't want grian but he Also can't help but want him desperately .. and that's how we get his behavior throughout DL. dear God i just love him

[chaos-potat]

..... *sigh*

His work is cool and he's a good voice actor..... but I'm so disappointed in him.....

9, 16, 17, 18 :)

Oh boy, this one's long and I'm so sorry

9. If you could change anything about TMNT, what would it be?

Oooh, that's a good one, I have several answers, if we mean per show

A lot of 2012, less focus on romance, make the women not just love interest (almost all of them did not need that). Also Timothy, so much about that was just wrong.

For Rise, maybe a bit of a longer arc for Splinter's redemption, I get what they were going for, but something like that needs more time.

If we mean about TMNT itself, more Bebop and Rocksteady, more Mona Lisa. I also like going into mystic things more, I love the space stuff they have, but I like the mystic and spiritual stuff, like in IDW

16. What is your favorite theme song?

OOOH, that's a tough one, I love Rise, but I'm also biased since it's my favorite, I love 2012 because of the line "Get rocked with the shell shocked pizza kings", I dream of being a pizza king one day. But I also love 2003 because of the beat, there is also 87 that just brings me joy for some reason.

My answer is I think Rottmnt, but all the others are a close 2nd lol

17. favorite pizza topping(s)?

....... safe answer, peperoni

18. Did any of the voice actors really stand out to you?

To be honest, I love Ben Schwartz (Rise Leo). I loved him in Ducktales and Sonic. He's genuinely funny to me, I watched Middleditch and Schwartz and I loved it (I've heard some things about Middleditch that disappoint me, I am not on his side).

I also really admire Rob Paulsen (87 Raphael, 2012 Donnie, Foot lieutenant), he's got a recognizable voice and a range. He was also the voice director of Rise??? That's cool, they had a good cast

I also really like Josh Brenner's voice, I don't know a lot about him though. I have to say, he looks so sad all the time for some reason and I constantly want to know if he's okay.

I don't know a lot about Brandon Mychal Smith (Rise Mikey), but I like his vibe, he seems like fun.

Sorry about the ramble, I love talking and these were good questions ^^

[patheticgirlsteve]

people will be like “lol yeah eddie’s totally a freak” and then make him act completely normal and not at all freakish. hello? if you’re gonna call him a freak you’d better commit to it. make him do something odd and unsettling. give him a mannerism that is strange and perhaps even unpleasant to observe. do it you coward

[valvesoftware]

breakups are so fucking weird. three years and just like that it's gone. huh

[lord-squiggletits]

Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.

[dadbots]

cold as shit & freezing my ass off in this winter (But at least we made it to December.)

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[heegyukeluv]

M.O.R.E. - my only ruined escape (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: Trapped in a broken marriage, you felt bound by everything you had invested in it, unable to walk away despite the cracks. But when Heeseung, unexpectedly striking up a friendship with your dick husband, entered the picture, things began to shift in ways you never saw coming.

my's note: i don't condone cheating. and this fic can be triggering for many, so read the warnings with care, please!

warnings: toxic relationship/marriage, fight/arguments, mentions of blood and wounds (due to the fight lol), y/n's husband is an ass but he doesn't attacks her physically, verbal abuse, y/n is constantly degraded by her husband, angst (with happy ending!!), pet names (mostly darling), cheating (yn cheats her husband with hee), SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f. receiving), fingering, squirting, lowkey angry sex. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 26,6k.

NOT PROOFREAD.

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

“Fuck ass food.”

Heeseung was peacefully eating his lunch at the small company’s break room; the other two spare tables were already occupied when he first stepped in, later than his usual schedule as he always managed to choose a less crowded hour to take his break peacefully.

The situation led him to sit with a random guy that apparently just entered the room as well, since he had his lunch box closed for quite a long time, while typing on his phone, laughing.

They both exchanged a few words as in “Can I sit here?” and a comfortable “Yeah” in response; but as soon as the guy spoke again, his curious eyes followed towards his food and then, arched a brow

“What's up, man?”

Heeseung attempted a friendly approach, but the man seemed inclined to complain other than talk. And although Heeseung was the type who preferred silence over small talk during meals, especially with strangers, he felt compelled to interact, given that they were the only two at the table.

The downside of arriving late or during peak hours: having to deal with people sharing – and invading – your space.

The man took a deep, exhausted sigh, his pursed lips indicating he was mad, his clenched jaw only adding to it, and the way he tilted his head quickly to the side before starting to speak got Heeseung regretting his decision of asking about it.

“My wife. She's just too... Useless?” The man blurted out, shrugging as if the statement held universal and undeniable truth.

He gave a brief unreadable gaze to Heeseung, that definitely didn’t spark not even an ounce of interest in him – actually, he quietly prepared himself for the following words, restraining an eye-roll that was teetering to escape. 

“Can't cook, can't keep the house clean, can't do shit,” he continued, his tone dripping with gross disdain. “And the good thing she had on her, she lost through the years.”

Heeseung kept his skeptical and slightly confused expression weighing his features, eyes darting towards the said “ass” food as he took a bite of his; it looked delicious and the smell was amazing. If the guy kept on crying over it, he would definitely suggest changing plates.

“Yeah?” Heeseung replied flatly, his voice carefully measured to express his disinterest.

He didn’t buy a word of the man’s complaints but held back the urge to ask why he had married this supposedly intolerable woman in the first place.

“Yeah,” he agreed and then leaned closer, now chewing a piece of meat with an exaggerated disgust. “You know, she was a hottie back then,” he muttered, a repulsive smirk creeping onto his face. Heeseung swallowed his will to punch that idiot in the face, his jaw clenching involuntarily. He wasn’t enjoying a glimmer of that conversation.

The man’s face contorted as if he was reminiscent about his wife in the past. “Fuck, she was hot. Best pussy I've ever had. Thought I could marry her and screw my stress away, you know?” The man’s head shook in mock disappointment. “But now? She barely gives me anything. Always some excuse. Lazy as hell.”

Heeseung’s stomach churned as the man's nauseating words thickly filled the air. He tried to focus on his own food, avoiding engaging any bit on that topic, but that casual, sickening misogyny was an appetite killer.

“You get me, right?” the man said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Your wife probably takes care of you, huh? Keeps you satisfied?”

The playful shove to Heeseung’s shoulder nearly pushed him over the edge. Holding back a retort – or worse, a punch – he forced his expression into something resembling composure.

“Oh, I’m not married,” Heeseung finally said, his voice tight, sharp and precise, a clear indicator that he didn’t want to be bothered anymore, not by that fuck ass guy.

The man laughed, shaking his head. “Well, lucky you then.”

That was Heeseung's first interaction with your husband. At the time, he couldn't have cared less about your relationship, he was indifferent, barely bothering to acknowledge it. His only genuine hope was that you would eventually escape from the grip of that asshole and find yourself with a real man who actually deserved you.

That was his stance – until the moment he saw you.

It was the company’s party reception or something similar, he didn’t care much to give a proper definition, not when you walked into the room, radiant in a sleek, black dress that hugged your figure perfectly. The way your smile lit up your face as you greeted everyone made the entire place seem to pause for a beat. Your lips, painted in a bold cherry red, glistened in the soft lighting, and your eyes – oh, your eyes – shone like stars in the night sky, captivating anyone who dared to meet your gaze.

You were beautiful in a way that left him breathless. 

And then, as if in slow motion, his gaze shifted to the man standing beside you. Your husband. The one he eventually – and unwillingly – learned the name: Brendon.

The words that escaped his lips were little more than a breathless mutter, “Are you fucking joking?”

His grip on the glass tightened, fingers curling around it with an intensity born from pure frustration and anger. This was the woman? The one your husband had described as plain, unremarkable, not even remotely sensual?

This goddess, standing there like an oasis mirage? Like something unreachable, untouchable, immaculate? 

He couldn’t understand it, no, definitely not. A woman like you dating – no, worse married to – a douchebag that didn’t give you what you needed, what you deserved.

He didn’t believe in fate, but the way things had unfolded, Heeseung was starting to wonder if the universe had conspired to bring him there, to that exact moment. After all, there was no other way he would have ever crossed paths with you.

Witnessing your existence, so alluring, so captivating, had flickered a spark in his mind, like a quiet revelation that simmered until he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Heeseung made it his mission to make you his.

It was a dangerous game, even reckless, his friends would try to stop it even before turning the idea into real words.

By then, he had gathered just enough to know the basics – your husband was a waste of space, and you, without a doubt, deserved something far better. 

He didn’t know how you felt about the way you were treated, nor how deeply you were tied to that toxic relationship, but he knew he had to take the chance, to shoot his shot. 

With that resolve, and after draining his glass in a single gulp, his eyes never leaving yours, Heeseung moved towards you both with quiet confidence, every step sure and deliberate.

“Hey, Brendon!”

Heeseung noticed the way your beautiful eyes gently settled on his, briefly wandering over his body before returning to meet his gaze once again. Your cheeks flushed – at least, he noticed a faint blush that didn’t seem to be the result of your flawless makeup.

He smiled warmly, shaking Brendon’s hand, who made sure to release his own from yours to greet Heeseung properly, pulling him into a half hug.

The first thing Heeseung would change in this dynamic: he would never let you go for something as a brief touch, left alone to greet some random acquaintance. And if he did, he would be quick to pull you back into his arms and show you off.

“Heeseung! Good to see you, man.”

The pat on the back felt a little too friendly, a little too close for Heeseung’s liking, but if he had to go through hell just to get closer to you, the goddess, he would endure it.

“This party’s kind of weird. So far, I’ve only seen strange people, but it’s nice to have some familiar faces.”

Heeseung forced a laugh as they pulled away, trying not to let the intensity of his gaze linger on you too much – he couldn’t be too obvious.

“Yeah…” He replied, trying to keep the conversation going, but honestly, he had no interest in Brendon – not that he could admit it out loud, especially since Brendon was probably the biggest obstacle in trying to do anything directly with you.

But when you responded to your husband with a shy smile, linking your arm with his, Heeseung couldn’t hide the wave of relief that washed over him. And your voice... It was beautiful.

“Stop it, babe. They weren’t weird, they were just being nice.”

“Yeah. For you, it’s always just kindness,” he rolled his eyes, not even bothering to reciprocate the affection by properly linking his arm with yours as he took a sip from his drink. “See, Heeseung? Women and their sensitivities. Be careful when you get married, man. Choose wisely, don’t pick the sensitive ones.”

The wave of nausea that hit Heeseung was enough for him to not even try to hide his discomfort. Brendon spilled all that nonsense like it was easy to say such atrocious things, ending it with a sleazy laugh that only added to the ridiculous image he was creating of himself.

Heeseung couldn’t deny that it was impressive how quickly Brendon could spew so much garbage, as if his mind was actively working to spread blind hatred towards anyone who didn’t fit into his corrupted morality.

“And this is...?”

Before any awkward silence began to settle in, and after Heeseung noticed that Brendon hadn’t made even the slightest effort to acknowledge the stunning wife standing by his side, he took the cue and swiftly redirected the conversation towards his primary target: you.

“Ah, Y/N. Apologies for not introducing myself earlier.”

You smiled warmly, extending your hand for a handshake, but the touch was brief, fleeting – only for Brendon to possessively wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer to him.

Heeseung barely restrained the urge to roll his eyes – so this was the type of man who treated his wife like trash, yet couldn’t stand anyone giving her attention?

“You always forget your manners at home, don’t you, honey?” Brendon tried to make a joke, one that only he seemed to find amusing as he laughed solitarily.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Heeseung didn’t bother mentioning that the few times he and Brendon had ever spoken, you had been one of the main topics – yet none of those discussions had been about praising or cherishing you as you deserved. Instead, it was always something demeaning, as if your worth were only worth degrading. 

Heeseung noticed that you seemed like you wanted to say something, almost as if you were about to murmur a “me too,” but all that came out was a forced, distant smile – almost sad, withdrawn. Your once radiant and seemingly communicative aura slowly and painfully faded away. You swallowed the words that dared to leave your mouth, and it left a bitter taste in Heeseung’s mouth to see that, but he swallowed it as well, choosing to remain polite – at least for now.

And you, indeed, were holding yourself back. Brendon didn’t like it when you greeted other people, especially men. He used to tell you that they were all filthy, that they would seduce you and take you to their rooms to fuck you, and you, as the good slut you were, would give in to their charms.

Part of you wished that were true, because if you at least had good sex with your husband, it could serve as a reason to stay firmly and resistant to his attempts – and success – of being an ass, but even that he couldn’t give you.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you murmured, more to avoid a potential fight in the future than to actually inform anyone. You could feel the tears threatening to fall, burning like fire in your eyes.

There were moments when you questioned what was still keeping you there. You had read countless reports and books – hidden, because Brendon didn’t like you becoming too informed – about women in relationships that you later recognized as abusive. They were designed to destroy a woman's self-esteem and take out the light of happiness that once burned so brightly.

You saw yourself in each of those stories in different ways, because Brendon had never dared to physically harm you. His game was personal, psychological, like controlling the finances and part of your daily routines.

He even went as far as threatening to install cameras around your apartment to make sure you weren’t cheating on him or breaking any of his ridiculous rules when he was out of the house.

Thankfully, you managed to hold on to your decision to keep working, something you cherished deeply. The flower shop that took up most of your time was a sanctuary, a place where you could momentarily forget that you had a husband of questionable character.

It was undeniable that the thought of divorce had crossed your mind countless times. Building a routine of minimal care for him, based on his absurd demands, also fed the feeling of permanence. You had to stay because you had to take care of him. Who would make his lunch boxes or wash his underwear?

It was a trivial thing, and maybe you used it to cover up your true desire – to run away, to escape from a relationship that, at one point, in a distant and fantastical past, had been full of promises that sounded genuine, of eternal love and affectionate care.

Everything was perfect during the first six months, until he realized that the sex he had once craved every day had lost its appeal, even though you kept trying to innovate, to please him. Brendon was never satisfied with you, judged every little part of your life as though that became his greatest pleasure.

Sharing a home with you was more of an obligation than a choice, and for a long time, you felt guilty.

He attempted to make it up with you, to buy you gifts and lead you to cute dates. It worked in the first year. And the second as well – the transient hopeless feeling of fixing him, of growing over it, of getting used to it… You tried everything.

To exhaust yourself in order to take every effort in the books to save your marriage from failure was in vain, your husband himself was making sure that your deep, sincere love turned into hate.

Heeseung was torn between feeling relieved that you had walked away and utterly frustrated that you had to.

He didn’t truly know you yet –  not enough to form solid judgments about whether your character was as vile as your husband’s. However, the brief moments he shared with you were more than enough to convince him that you didn’t deserve even a fraction of the treatment Brendon gave you.

But if he wanted his plan to succeed, he needed to win Brendon’s trust first.

“So, man, how’s it going?” Heeseung forced himself to sound as friendly and approachable as possible, his expression carefully crafted to radiate genuine interest in how Brendon’s life had been lately.

“Oh, you know. Tons of work, annoying clients, a couple of coworkers who... I don’t know, just seem like they couldn’t care less about their jobs. The usual.”

The internal battle Heeseung was fighting was so intense he had to physically restrain himself from throwing the punch he had been saving for Brendon since day one. The man hadn’t said anything outrageous – yet –, but the way he carried himself, the way he spoke, was enough to taunt Heeseung the wrong way.

Still, he forced himself to stay in character.

“Ah, that sounds rough. Sorry to hear you’ve been under so much stress.”

With a subtle pat on Brendon’s shoulder and words laced with faux sympathy, Heeseung could tell he had earned another fragment of his trust.

“Thanks for understanding, man. When I try to talk about this stuff with my wife, she just goes insane, you know? Says all I do is complain, and that nothing’s ever good enough…”

Heeseung nodded, carefully calibrating his expression so nothing but fake empathy would slip through. Inwardly, he wholeheartedly agreed with you – so much that he had to work hard to keep composure, leaving to Brendon the mission of filling up the awkward silence. 

“And how am I supposed to not complain when she can’t do anything right?” Brendon huffed, shrugging dramatically and exhaling like a childish tantrum.

Heeseung’s self-control was tested to its limits. He wanted to roll his eyes so badly but instead kept his mouth shut, grabbing a drink from a passing waiter to occupy his hands, not uttering a word.

“No one at work does anything right, but then I think, well, at least I can go home and unwind with my hot wife. And then I get home, and it’s all wrong there, too.”

This time, Heeseung couldn’t stop himself. The words slipped out before he could think better of them, sipping on his drink right after, eyes locked onto Brendon’s angry expression.

“Have you ever thought about getting a divorce?”

Brendon turned to him, wide-eyed, as if Heeseung had just suggested something unthinkable, as if he was a lunatic.

“What? Divorce? Are you out of your mind, man?!” And then he laughed, a hollow, grating sound. “She’s the love of my life.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Heeseung forced a small chuckle, drifting his eyes to his drink as he sipped once more. Yeah, definitely a lot of alcohol to help him go through this job of hell. “You two look like a lovely couple, my bad for suggesting that shit,” Heeseung nearly choked out that horrible sentence, cringing hard before the idea of complimenting anything in that piece of thrash.

“Nah. You’re good.”

Little by little, Heeseung managed to earn Brendon's trust. He started conversations about their few shared interests, sometimes even pretending to know more about topics he wasn’t particularly invested in, all to build a solid foundation for their blossoming “friendship”.

Heeseung had one clear goal: to keep you out of their conversations. He knew Brendon would likely take the opportunity to list every supposed flaw you had.

The more time Heeseung spent with Brendon, the more he realized he was a spoiled man who expected the world to revolve around his desires. It was almost comical and pathetic to hear him brag about his so-called glory days in college, where he claimed to have broken countless hearts as if it were some sort of accomplishment.

Through these interactions, Heeseung learned more about you – or at least about how you and Brendon had met and fallen in love.

Back then, you were calm, the kind of girl few would approach because they thought you were plain, boring, bland – Brendon's words. Apparently it was forbidden to use flattering ones even while describing how he fell in love with you. He decided to ask you out because, despite everything, you were pretty. And hot.

Of course, Brendon’s interest in you started with your looks and the supposedly mind-blowing sex you offered – almost as if you were some kind of goddess in bed – those were Brendon’s words again.

As Heeseung listened to Brendon recount this “love story,” he had to fight the urge to let his thoughts slip into words that would be anything but kind. He also worked hard to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to reveal his growing disdain.

The “love of Brendon’s life” wasn’t someone he cherished – it was a possession, a fantasy. He married you to maintain his hold on you, to keep other men away, because the thought of someone else touching you drove him insane.

The absurdity of it all nearly made Heeseung sick. Brendon couldn’t speak about you without a complaint to follow, without reducing your beauty to objectification, or without expressing his so-called “love” through a thinly veiled frustration rooted in his own insecurities.

But amidst the storm of Brendon’s toxic words, like a single ray of sunlight on a cloudy day, Heeseung now had reasons to visit your home regularly.

You were rarely home when he came by. On weekends, you worked at the flower shop, with your days off falling on Mondays and Tuesdays instead of Saturdays and Sundays. Brendon didn’t seem to care, often commenting that at least your “annoying voice” wouldn’t disturb his peace.

Yet, Heeseung found himself wishing he could see you more often. After enduring so much time and effort to break through Brendon’s defenses, earning a significant amount of his trust, it was disheartening to not see the person who made it all worthwhile.

“Y/N should be home early from work today. Let’s enjoy the peace while we can,” Brendon said offhandedly.

Heeseung’s ears perked up at the news.

It was the fourth weekend in a row that Heeseung had ditched plans with his friends to hang out with Brendon. Their gaming sessions weren’t the worst – most of the conversation revolved around the games themselves, sparing Heeseung from Brendon’s typical misogyny. But still, spending time with someone so consumed by complaints and negativity was exhausting.

The thought of finally seeing you again, however, was enough to rekindle his energy. Heeseung glanced at the time on his wristwatch, silently hoping your shift at the flower shop would end sooner rather than later; his heart was already racing at the thought of finally seeing you.

He cared little if you looked like a tired, married woman after a long day of work. You would still be beautiful, as always, with your charming smile that would likely grace your lips, your radiant gaze – maybe even surprised to find him there, sprawled on the couch playing video games with your husband. 

Heeseung just hoped you wouldn't misunderstand, that you wouldn't think he was anything like your husband. The fleeting idea of being seen under thar judgment was enough to make him slightly desperate to prove he was different.

When the door swung open, revealing a female figure entering, greeted by the dim light of the living room, Heeseung froze. Like, literally, his fingers froze on the controller, and his eyes locked on you.

You were wearing the most adorable light denim overalls, with embroidered mushrooms on the front. The black shirt contrasted perfectly with the light tone of your overalls and matched your black Converse sneakers perfectly. You looked beautiful.

“Yo, we're gonna lose, man!” Brendon shoved his shoulder into Heeseung’s to snap his focus back to the game.

“Sorry,” Heeseung murmured quietly, turning his gaze back to the light of the TV screen, though occasionally taking a moment to admire you as you slipped off your shoes and hung your purse by the door. “Need help?” He asked you directly, almost standing up from the couch when he finally noticed the two heavy bags of groceries you were carrying.

Brendon rolled his eyes and shoved Heeseung back onto the couch, not even giving you the chance to accept or decline the offer.

“Ignore her, focus here.”

Heeseung shot Brendon a skeptical look, which luckily he didn’t catch as his eyes were glued to the screen again. Heeseung gave you one more glance, a silent apology in which you gently shook your head and smiled warmly, whispering. 

“Don’t worry about it.”

Heeseung could see the frustration in your tired eyes, although you attempted to keep as nonchalant as possible, as if you were used to your husband's futility. He watched how you vanished into the back of the house, most probably the kitchen to organize the items you had bought. 

Somehow, Heeseung wasn’t interested in gaming anymore, not when you were just a few steps away and he could properly greet you. He stalled a little, just not to be too obvious with his intentions, before getting up and saying.

“I’m gonna grab something in the kitchen.”

And of course, the spoiled asshole would ask for something as well.

“Yeah, yeah. Grab me a beer.”

“Alright.”

Heeseung didn’t deny it; he had learned a few areas of the house already. After all, on the few occasions when Brendon didn’t say a single word about whether you were home or not, he’d claim he was going to the bathroom, when in reality, he was sneaking around, hoping naively he might catch a glimpse of you somewhere, gracing his eyes with your gorgeous presence.

The kitchen was the most obvious place his feet knew the way to by heart. It was the spot where guests were welcomed, where Brendon would offer drinks like whiskey and cold beer – which, apart from you and the PS5, were the only decent things that house had to offer.

So Heeseung made his way there slowly, feigning casualness, though internally preparing himself for a direct interaction with you. Since the very first day, he hadn’t had a single chance to speak to you alone, so he had to make the most of every second to begin showing you that he was a good man, and that if you wanted, and allowed him to, he could show you just how good he could be – in every sense of the word.

He heard a faint hum and the soft sound of things shifting around, indicating that you were still busy organizing the kitchen as he approached the room. He lowered his voice as much as possible to announce his presence, not wanting to startle you.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Even so, you jumped slightly and turned towards him, flashing wide eyes that expressed your surprise.

You didn’t expect no one to come into the kitchen, let alone your husband or his friend, but you couldn’t deny that you were a bit happy that he did so.

Despite befriending your husband, Heeseung seemed to be a nice guy. You had little to no information about him, since Brendon barely told you about his day or his overall routine during the brief moments you two were together; he would rather choose to mistreat you and complain about your mistakes instead of sharing the perks of his work day.

“Yeah! I’m sure,” you managed to answer back in a breath, ignoring Heeseung’s presence for a bit as you reached for some of the groceries packages scattered all over the counter, to place them perfectly into the cabinets. 

Heeseung’s eyes followed the motion of your skilled body handling everything a bit too well, as if you were used to chores overwork.

Heeseung felt a tingling urge to help, to be useful, to ease your stress. It was something he would do effortlessly, if he was the one married to you. In fact, if it were up to him, you would just sit there being beautiful while he took care of everything, because you deserved to be treated like a queen.

Brendon had complained countless times about all the things you did – for him, obviously, in the form of grumbling.

How you were “cringe” for making little love notes and putting them in his lunch box, how you made the bed so he could sleep, but never chose the most comfortable duvet, how you “tried” to cook his favorite meal but never got the seasoning right.

Heeseung once casually suggested swapping lunches, and when he finally had the chance to try your cooking, the urge to punch Brendon grew immensely, because it was all so good.

Brendon didn’t appreciate the little things you did. He saw them as annoyances, predictably bad, and yet they were the exact actions that made Heeseung realize just how special you were.

He was struck by how deeply you cared for someone who didn’t seem to understand, or even acknowledge, your efforts. It only made Heeseung more determined.

“So… You work at a flower shop, right?” 

Once again, you startled with Heeseung’s gentle voice suddenly echoing in the kitchen, pulling you out of your concentration state. You were crouched while organizing the groceries, and he was standing up, drinking ridiculously slowly a glass of water.

“Yes, I do.” You answered politely, but not quite giving Heeseung any recognizable attention.

“Do you like it?”

His question caught you off guard. First, because you weren’t used to people asking about your interests, especially when it came to your “boring” work. Secondly, because there was a sincerity in his voice, a curiosity that felt different from the usual respectful small talk.

You paused for a moment before straightening your legs, calmly turning on your heels to completely face Heeseung with a slight flabbergasted expression. 

The moment your eyes laid on his tall figure casually leaning on the wall, your breath got caught in your throat – was he watching you this whole time?

His bright and lightly inquisitive eyes were grazed on you, busying his lips with small sips of water and a hint of a tender smile, waiting for your reply. Your heart skipped a beat, a soft, thrilling tremor that vibrated through your body without leaving you to have any control over it as your hands started to tremble. 

“I do, yeah.” You pondered for a while, searching for the words that would match your genuine opinion over your job; unconsciously a sincere smile began to form on the corner of your lips and Heeseung took a close, quiet note to it. “It’s… It’s calm and peaceful. Fulfilling in a way, even when it’s exhausting. I feel I can be myself easily and… Avoid some– other stress. For a bit, at least.”

Heeseung’s chest warmed with the way you spoke, a delicate radiance of soothing heat sweeping as your softly and lovingly voice talked about something you liked. He wished to see more of this persona, more of this part of you; the apparently authentic, happy version that expressed affection through your every pore.

However, he couldn’t help the sting that came along, knowing what “other stress” you were talking about. He also hoped to help you escape out of that. 

“That’s good to know,” he nodded tenderly, keeping his tone layered with honesty and kindness. Your eyelids blinked slowly as you watched Heeseung approach, silently placing the glass on the countertop that separated you both. “I’m glad to see you being passionate about what you do and enjoying your life, Y/N. At least… Part of it.”

He had carefully constructed his sentence before speaking, wanting to ease you into the conversation with the most comforting approach he could offer. At the same time, he dared to let slip a part of his disguise, hoping you would pick up on the subtle hint about him being aware of the difficult reality of your marriage, particularly your situation.

Your eyes showed that you were slightly taken aback by his words. You were shrewd enough to catch the underlying message of what he had said, even though it was somewhat confusing to understand his exact intentions. 

Still, you gave him a shy but pleasant smile, touched by his gentle and thoughtful words.

“Thank you,” you would’ve ended there, but something unknown prompted you to add more, a sudden need to speak your truth. “I do what I can with what I have.”

It sounded too sad, too realistic. Your eyes fell to your hands resting on the cold countertop as you spoke, nonetheless, it was your reality, after all: making do with what you had. You had learned the hardest way to survive on the scraps life gave you, to accept the little, or sometimes, nothing at all. It had become routine, normal – your life for the last three years.

Heeseung caught the opening you had unwittingly – or perhaps purposefully – left for him and gently took the lead on the topic, offering his personal opinion as he noticed your guard had lowered at least a little.

“It shouldn’t be like this, Y/N.”

A part of him feared he had crossed a line, violated your boundaries, or even frightened you. If any of that had happened, he couldn’t think of a way to backpedal and ease into a gentler, slower approach. But he was surprised when you, equally startled by your own reaction, replied.

“But it’s been this way.”

The sigh that followed expressed your exhaustion – an exhaustion you usually tried to ignore, otherwise it would send you down a path you didn’t feel capable of walking alone. “This is how he makes it to be.”

The indirect mention of Brendon shocked Heeseung even further, though it also brought a strange sense of relief. He hadn’t expected you to open up so quickly, still he wouldn’t take it for granted and chose to continue to walk carefully.

It was as if the plan he had set in motion had been laid out by divine hands, providing him with every tool necessary to reach his ultimate goal.

“It doesn’t have to be… You know that, right?”

You were taken aback when Heeseung’s warm, gentle hand covered one of yours, making you flinch slightly but didn’t pull away. The touch was soft, innocent, and comforting. It offered you just enough weightlessness to let your words flow with more ease, your heart feeling lighter within each passing second.

You wished for that moment to last a bit more. 

“Maybe I know, but… it’s so hard.”

Heeseung nodded softly, his gentle eyes tracing the lines of your face contorted with an expression of sadness and frustration, still avoiding his gaze. It was clear that you no longer wanted to live in this marriage, to be stuck with a jerk like Brendon. But something was holding you back. Or perhaps, you just hadn’t found anything – or anyone – that could truly pull you out of it.

Heeseung gently removed his hand from atop yours, sliding it beneath to hold it with care. “How can I help you?”

But before either of you could react, the sound of Brendon entering the kitchen shattered the tender moment that had been unfolding between you. His presence filled the room with that grotesque energy only he could bring.

“Why are you taking so long, man?”

Brendon’s voice cut sharply through the air, breaking the fragile moment. Your immediate jolt of surprise made you stumble backward, accidentally knocking over the sugar packet on the edge of the countertop with your elbow as you pulled your hand away from Heeseung’s, sending the white grains scattering across the floor. Brendon’s exasperated voice filled the air instantly.

“Messing everything up as always. Jesus Christ,” Brendon snapped, tone dripping with disdain. The sharpness of it seemed to pierce through the quiet warmth you had shared, and the shift in the atmosphere was palpable.

Heeseung stiffened where he stood, his jaw clenched, knowing it wasn’t the right time or place to confront Brendon, but a part of him wanted to.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” You began, your voice tinged with guilt. 

“You never mean to do anything,” he interrupted and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Go grab something to clean this up. And while you’re at it, buy another packet. Use your money this time since you’re the one who made the fucking mess.”

Heeseung stood on the corner, static, feet rooted to the ground, because if he slipped the built self-control out, he would be the one making fucking messes. His eyes darted from Brendon’s to you a brief second, acknowledging that you seemed to be blaming yourself for such a normal accident.

For a fleeting moment, when your eyes met Heeseung’s, what you saw wasn’t pity, it was fury. Not at you, but for you.

His gaze burned holes into Brendon’s side profile, the muscle in his jaw flexing visibly. If Brendon pushed just a little harder, it was clear that Heeseung’s restraint might shatter entirely. His fists curled tighter at his sides, as though physically grounding himself in order to maintain the calmness. 

He wouldn’t admit out loud, not now, but the thought of you being involved in a possible fight was the primary thing holding him back. He didn’t want you to witness how bad and intensely he would make your husband taste his own blood – alongside that, the fantasy of making Brendon clean the floor with his own tongue was tempting and so hard not to give it a listen.

“And why the hell are you taking so long?” Brendon now turned to Heeseung, still holding an arrogant demeanor. “Bet this bitch didn’t leave cold beer for us, and she was probably making up some excuse for it, right?”

The venom in his words made Heeseung’s stomach twist, as well as his hands that clenched harder. His brows knitted together as he tried to process the sheer audacity of Brendon’s determination to make you feel worse. It was as if his entire worldview was built on finding fault in you, as though your very existence was an inconvenience to him.

“Actually, I–” Heeseung started, his tone low and dangerously even.

“Yeah, that’s right.” You quickly interrupted, your shaky voice expressing how affected and fearful you were. You moved to the fridge and grabbed two cans of beer to offer Heeseung. “I’m sorry. Here.”

Heeseung froze, his gaze softening as he took in your unreadable face. He was confused by your reaction and decision, the realization you were trying to defuse the situation, even at your own expense, made his body heat to increase in pure, raw anger towards Brendon.

The kitchen felt suffocatingly small as Heeseung reached out to take the cans from your trembling hands. His fingers brushed against yours ever so slightly, a light, evanescent touch, that still created a visceral jolt that seemed to resonate between you both.

“Thanks,” he murmured softly, his voice barely audible.

Your hands fell back to your sides awkwardly, but the faint lingering warmth of his touch sent a wave of unfamiliar sensation through your body. You shivered slightly; it had been so long since you’d felt this – a connection, something near to a meaningful acknowledgment of your presence as more than just an object of blame.

Brendon’s loud sigh and mutters about something random shattered whatever serenity the moment would unfold deeper. Heeseung’s grip on the beer cans tightened as he fought the growing urge to speak – or worse, act.

For now, he let the silence swallow his frustration, though his eyes remained locked on you, silently promising that this wasn’t the end.

Heeseung felt like he needed to offer you a kind of safe space, an environment where you would feel comfortable enough to begin opening up completely. 

The encounter in the kitchen was successful, until Brendon stepped in and broke the possibilities away. Ever since, he tried to change his plans of meeting Brendon during moments where you could be with him as well.

Heeseung’s whole plan was... Peculiar. He didn’t just aim to get you out of that toxic relationship, offering you the necessary support to help you leave. He primarily wanted to show you just how deserving you were of wonderful things, and that he wanted to be the one to provide some of that happiness.

It was a decision that might have been premature, with a high chance of leading to a dangerous and frustrating path. Even though Heeseung would use all of his tricks, you could still choose to stay. But he couldn’t control the erratic beating of his heart at the mere thought of having you for himself, nor could he ignore the ache in his chest of you opting not to let go, which demonstrated the intertwining of his emotions with this entire situation.

Heeseung was now seated at the dining table with you and your husband, chewing on the carefully prepared meal he had prepared for that “dinner among friends.”

You looked breathtaking, as always. And Brendon? Spewing casual misogyny and ignorance, as always.

The dinner had been Heeseung’s idea, under the pretense of repaying the countless times he had dropped by your house, consuming snacks and drinks without contributing. It was, on the surface, a friendly gesture. But the real reason behind it was far less innocent, and Heeseung knew you were perceptive enough to catch on.

It was so glaringly obvious what Heeseung’s true intentions were that he tried his best not to make them even more apparent with every glance exchanged between you and him. Fortunately, or perhaps out of sheer ignorance, Brendon was far too naive to notice the way you subtly reacted to Heeseung’s laughter – some of it genuine, some of it forced – as you leaned ever so slightly forward, drawn to his presence.

Heeseung was acutely aware, though. He noticed everything about you – every glance, every small smile.

Ever since Heeseung had started showing up during times when you were also home, the kitchen had become your unspoken sanctuary for a sweet connection. He didn’t force or coax you to speak your soul, rather he would give you a cozy place where you got to share fragments of your personal life amid discussions about nothing in particular – Heeseung treasured them all.

He etched those details into his memory as if they were sacred scriptures, intending to one day prove to you just how deeply he cared – and would keep caring, if you said yes. 

Now, as Brendon lounged lazily at the dining table, and you, standing at the sink, rinsed your plate and Brendon’s, you tried to ignore the flush on your cheeks when Heeseung moved to casually stand beside you while keeping the talk with your husband about soccer or something you didn’t care about.

Heeseung leaned casually against the sink counter, the glass of whiskey in his hand catching the warm light of his kitchen as he took a slow sip. You could feel the weight of his presence, far, but still close, somehow calming and charged with unspoken intention.

“Hey, man,” Brendon broke the rhythm of the conversation suddenly, standing up. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Heeseung didn’t miss a beat, suppressing a grin because he had planned that all along – to give enough non-alcoholic drinks to Brendon in order to make him leave for a few in the bathroom, getting at least some minutes alone with you.

With an easy, unaffected demeanor, he answered. “End of the hallway,” and raised his glass slightly to point. “First door on the left.”

Brendon nodded, his movements sluggish, and then casted a half-hearted glance your way.

“Don’t break anything while I’m gone,” he muttered, his tone an awkward attempt at humor.

You felt the corner of your mouth twitch into an usual forced smirk, the one you struggled to maintain as a way to faux express your contentment with his terrible jokes.

Brendon disappeared down the hallway, oblivious to Heeseung’s piercing gaze following as he did so. 

The silence left behind was thick, buzzing with the tension of your now uninterrupted proximity with Heeseung, causing a sensation that got your body wincing without anything happening yet. 

“So,” Heeseung began, his voice low and unhurried. He set his glass down on the counter, the faint clink of it meeting the surface echoing in the quiet room. His eyes found yours quickly, holding a weight that made your breath hitch slightly; he took a sweet notice of your blushing cheeks. 

“So,” you echoed softly, your heart raced in anticipation of whatever was about to unfold, dodging the pull of Heeseung’s intense, yet soft, stare to concentrate back on doing the dishes. 

“How was the dinner?”

Your shy smile grew before the tender question as you finished cleaning, silently asking for a hand drying cloth. Heeseung extended you one immediately, dreamy glistening eyes trailing carefully your every move with quiet devotion. He had his attention precisely torn in between the sound of Brendon coming back and you, the prettiest, kindest and most wonderful woman he ever saw.

“It was amazing,” you complimented with sincerity, resting the back of your hips on the edge of the counter top, glancing up through your eyelashes to meet Heeseung’s affectionate, smoldering gaze. “You did amazing.”

Heeseung chuckled softly, the sound low and subtle, like a sweet melody meant only for your ears. He shifted his weight forward, his movements deliberate as he positioned himself directly in front of you. His hands rested casually on either side of your body, palms flat against the countertop, effectively caging you in a way that was both daring and exhilarating.

“Can’t compare to yours, but yeah, I tried my best.”

His voice was velvety, laced with a casual teasing warmth that sent a shiver down your spine, as if you were close friends.

Your breath hitched, shallow and uneven, betraying the steady facade you tried to maintain. The rapid rhythm of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, a dissonant tum-tum that matched the electricity crackling in the small space between you.

The proximity between you two felt suffocating in the most thrilling way; his attractive face was so close that you could see the flecks of lust in his deep, big brown eyes. He gazed at you with a tenderness that made your heart stutter, his head tilting slightly as if studying your every micro-expression.

Without realizing it, your hands moved of their own accord, awkwardly, yet hesitantly, until they found a place on Heeseung’s broad shoulders. The texture of his shirt beneath your fingertips grounded you, though the hesitant touch exposed your inner turmoil. Still, the simple gesture was enough to make Heeseung’s composure falter.

He hadn’t expected you to respond so involuntarily open.

“He’ll be back soon...” You whispered, the words barely audible as your lashes fluttered shut for a moment. The nearness of Heeseung, the intoxicating scent of his cologne mingling with his natural warmth, made it impossible to focus on anything else. When, exactly, had Heeseung become your greatest temptation?

You weren’t blind to how he treated you. The way his gaze lingered, a mix of genuine affection and burning desire that ignited something dormant within you. It was undeniable the way he affected you, the way your thoughts would drift to him during the quiet, lonely hours of your life.

You fought against those thoughts with every fiber of your being, reminding yourself of the vows you once made. Yet, Heeseung’s constant presence made that fight infinitely harder, as if he hoped for you to drop everything you once promised, as though he taunted your self-control to its limits in order to make you discover fresh and tempting possibilities alongside him.

He was willing to make you wander a path you never quite give a thought to venture yourself into. 

Heeseung leaned in, his voice dropping an octave, soft and husky, almost a caress against your fuzzed soul.

“I know how much he stresses you out, darling...” The endearment slipped from his lips effortlessly, and you clutched his shirt as though it were the only thing keeping you sane. “Let me take that stress away.”

His hooded eyes wandered over your face, not hurriedly but with a reverence that felt almost sacred, as if he were memorizing every line, every curve. The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing again, his careful inspection leaving no part of you unseen.

Heeseung deeply saw you, and you started to treasure that. 

The dryness in your throat was swallowed with difficulties, as if the saliva production had purposefully decreased only to make you wet your lips, an action that served to draw Heeseung’s attention to that area.

His gaze, dropping to something darker, held longer than he hoped for, but damn, you were so attractive, with your perfectly kissable lips inches from his, with your pretty eyes deliberately expressing your surrender to his charms.

He had to dig self-control in order not to kiss you right there, his own body wavering knowing he wouldn’t stop on just a brief make out moment; he yearned the urge of taking you as a whole, pleasuring you, worshipping you, giving you what you deserved. 

“He’s a good husband,” you forced out, the words tasting weird, unconvincing as they left your mouth; it was a failed coping mechanism not to break in light of the awareness of how disastrous your marriage had become, one you got used to repeating to yourself over the years.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, his expression softening as he absorbed your words. Your lazy eyes caught the small smirk dancing on his lips, a dry chuckle following just before he murmured with devastating precision.

“Does he fuck you good?”

Heeseung’s previous advances had slowly chipped away at your defenses, now the question landed like a wrecking ball in a crumbling wall – strong, direct, and final, the checkmate that shattered everything your morals once held. 

Your body responded before your mind could, a pulsing ache coiling in your core, leaving you clenching around nothing in a crescent despair that burned your skin. The audacity of his words stunned you, but the way they ignited something deep within left you reeling, dizzy.

Your husband had never aroused you with such ease, and with one simple question, Heeseung had rendered you breathless, nearly falling on your knees.

You met his gaze, your lips parted, however not a single word had strength enough to follow the deep breath you let out. The room seemed to shrink as you took in the intensity of Heeseung’s eyes, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

His boldness hung in the thick air, while your principles dangerously split between clinging to the lie you told yourself every day and surrendering to the temptation Heeseung presented so beautifully.

“He provides the house–”

“But does he make you feel good, Y/N?”

He ignored your second attempt of forcing a narrative that both of you knew was just a facade, his inquisitive inspection and daring eyes never leaving yours, pushing you through the edge to fall onto his trap. 

The more he pressed you, the more you felt tempted to give in, almost like an addiction to something you had never experienced before, a painful yearning for the thrilling rush that coursed through your veins in delicious anguish with the thought of... trying.  

You feared that you might enjoy it too much if you gave in to whatever Heeseung was willing to offer.  

“He does, he makes me feel happy…”

“No, he doesn’t, Y/N. We both know that.” He cut you off again, though his voice remained calm and low.  

Heeseung was completely guided by the unconscious voice of his instincts that took control of his actions. He still remembered to respect you, to maintain a safe space, not to cross your boundaries, and, most importantly, not to push you beyond what you could handle. But it was so hard not to give in entirely to your complicit charms.  

You didn’t seem to notice, but your hands were pulling his body closer, your eyes triangulating between his brown irises and his cherry-colored lips, almost like a silent invitation to kiss him. You also had tilted your head slightly to the side, relieving your bare neck in a subtle request for Heeseung to explore that sensitive area.

You presented yourself in such a surrendered way, so open, so... reckless for someone who was working so hard to maintain unnecessary morality. 

Cheating wasn’t beautiful; neither of you believed in that. But why was cheating on your husband with Heeseung so ridiculously tempting?

“He doesn’t deserve you, darling…” Heeseung replied, unaware that this was your biggest inner doubt, daring to approach the prickled flesh of your neck.

The tip of his nose brushed slowly, painfully close, without giving you what you secretly craved, while his hot breath caressed your tingling skin like a deliberate, gentle whisper of a quiet promise. You fluttered your eyes close, the grip on Heeseung’s shirt tightening as he continued. 

“I can help you with that... Just give me the word.”

“Heeseung–”

Your desperate, breathy moan was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. No, you didn’t hear them, but Heeseung was more than aware of Brendon’s return, taking on the job of carefully paying attention to it from the very beginning. 

“Think about it, darling. I can relieve your stress.”

It was the last thing he whispered in your ear before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away to instantly resume his casual, friendly demeanor.  

“Did I take too long?”

Brendon’s voice wasn’t enough to break your trance. You felt your body weak and incredibly light, your flustered face showing a slight confusion and disbelief, with a subtle mix of wanting. 

Heeseung glanced at you with a mild smile for a brief moment before wrapping an arm around Brendon’s shoulders to guide him into the living room, murmuring a hollow response, followed by some lame excuse about showing him something, in order to give you time to recompose yourself. 

After a few minutes in a daze, you found yourself heading to the bathroom, because the interaction with Heeseung hadn’t just left a mark on your chest. No. Your panties were ruined, and you prayed you could hide it from Brendon for the rest of the night.

You had to hide your chaotic emotions for the rest of the following weeks, not just that night.

Brendon was completely unaware of the vast storm of thoughts racing through your mind as you did your household chores, which made it easier to ignore his misogynistic taunts and repulsive complaints throughout the day.

The memory of Heeseung’s soft lips brushing against your neck left an undeniable mark, and from time to time, you found yourself absentmindedly tracing the spot with your fingertips, almost as if you could still feel the warmth of his touch melting into your skin.

It was confusing to be in the position you were in, married on the paper to a jerk with the possibility of going after someone who apparently cared about you.

Sharing the same space with Heeseung had become increasingly difficult. You even started shifting your work schedule, taking days off when you knew he wouldn’t be able to come to your house, even though his visits had become less frequent.

You couldn’t quite figure out what had happened, but it seemed that Brendon and Heeseung had an argument after clashing over something trivial. It was as if Heeseung was finally showing his true colors, shedding the persona he had carefully crafted to get closer to your husband and eventually you, now that he had made his move in the invisible game of chess the two of you had been playing.

Besides your work, Brendon couldn’t control your friendships as well and luckily you had a supportful network that held you with warmth when the stress became overwhelming.

Countless times, your friends tried to show you that Brendon didn’t deserve even a fraction of the incredible woman you were, but as always, you had a well-rehearsed response that failed to mask the disrespect you had to endure with him.

Over time, your friends stopped trying to force you to see what you already knew was true, and in response, you made sure not to bring home issues into your work.

But that time, however, it was impossible to stay silent. Your face clearly showed discomfort and anxiety, but there was also a special sparkle in your eyes that piqued Yunjin’s curiosity.

“What’s got you so deep in thought on such a beautiful day, my lovely Y/N?”

You snuggled into the back hug she gave you, chuckling softly at the way she addressed you, a clear sign that she wouldn’t let up until you answered.

Yunjin was your closest friend, the one who always made sure to check on you and your relationship, occasionally threatening to drag you out of your house by force – but you always shot back, claiming it would probably make things worse.

She also knew about your recent sudden desire to escape, to distance yourself from everything that reminded you of Brendon – something completely new in your shared world, based on past experiences. You always found some lame excuse to cover up such thoughts, rarely letting them slip, and suddenly things had changed; in recent days, you had left numerous hints that something completely different and new was unfolding.

A sigh escaped your lips, followed by your quiet reply. “If I tell you, you might not believe it.”

Yunjin adorably rested her chin on your shoulder, trying to look you in the eyes.

“Humor me, then.”

You bit your lower lip, moving your head to the opposite side so you could hide how your cheeks flushed before you muttered.

“I want to cheat on my husband.”

The small stockroom fell into a deafening silence as the words left your lips, words that had been corroding your mind for days, perhaps even weeks. Saying it out loud felt like giving your desire a tangible form, pulling it from the realm of unreachable fantasy into the tempting, possible reality.

It was a simple statement, yet it unleashed a storm of emotions in your chest and stomach, as if all the anxiety you had been harboring, trying to gather the courage to reach this conclusion, came crashing back in a wave that hit you like a brick wall.

Yunjin’s lack of immediate reaction only made the air feel heavier, stealing the very breath from your lungs. You could sense the tension in her body behind you, but your mind, too clouded by the fear of judgment, twisted it into something entirely different from what she truly felt.

“Don’t judge me, plea–” “Who with?”

Your head snapped to the side, stunned, as you searched your friend’s face. What you found wasn’t judgment or disgust but a spark of curiosity and, oddly enough, pride glimmering in her eyes, as though she had been waiting her whole life for you to say something this bold.

“What?”

Yunjin loosened her back hug only to turn you around to face her, taking both of your hands in hers, which had been awkwardly dangling at your sides.

“Alright, so you’re going to cheat on your husband.” She gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. “With who?”

Her enthusiasm was impossible to miss, and it stirred something strangely exhilarating in you, like a mischievous excitement, as if you were about to hatch a secret plan doomed to fail, yet thrilling precisely because of the forbidden nature of it all.

At the same time, you couldn’t fully process her reaction. Tilting your head slightly, you frowned, skepticism evident on your face.

“What do you mean you're not calling me crazy or immoral? Shouldn’t you be scolding me, telling me I should divorce him instead of choosing to cheat?”

Yunjin let out a soft sigh, a subtle and kind exhale, as a small smile danced on her lightly pink-tinted lips.

“Y/N, my princess... After everything you’ve been through, seeing you reach a point where you’re ready to break free from that awful man, even if it’s not in the ‘right’ way, makes me happy and proud. So, I don’t care if you start this journey with an affair or a murder–”

“I'm not murdering anyone!” You quickly cut her off, widened eyes shooting a warning glance. 

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes playfully, the corner of her lips twitching within a smirk. “Either way, I’ll support and help you, because I know that getting rid of that piece of trash will bring you as much peace and joy as it will bring me.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, but there was one critical detail she didn’t know yet, one that sent a thrill through you just imagining saying it aloud. For the first time, you realized you could actually put yourself first.

“I’m not cheating on Brendon to get revenge,” you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’m cheating on Brendon because Heeseung is hot, and I deserve better.”

Your trembling fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, each pounding beat of your heart showing how nervous you were as you stood in front of that door.

It had been a few days since your talk with Yunjin – days made even more painful and exhausting by your husband’s behavior. He had been nothing but a spoiled, petulant child as usual, a true pain in the ass with his petty, insufferable attitude. It felt as though he was deliberately testing your limits, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, waiting for the moment you would snap.

It was always the same game. He would provoke you until you reached your breaking point, only to paint himself as the victim once you finally exploded. He had done it before, twisting the narrative to label you as the irrational, overly sensitive one, incapable of handling even the smallest criticism. Of course, his idea of “small criticism” was laughably detached from the reality of his hurtful words and actions.

The truth was undeniable: your relationship had long since turned cold, deprived of warmth in every sense of the word. The affection that once tied you together had dissolved after the first year of marriage, slipping away like water into a vast, unyielding ocean of discontent and sorrow.

Over time, you grew used to the scraps, and eventually, to nothing at all. You convinced yourself to accept whatever he offered, clinging to the hollow promise you had made – to love each other no matter the circumstances. But deep down, you knew that love had died a long time ago. You just hadn’t found the courage to bury it.

“Fuck you, Brendon. Go to hell!”

Those were your penultimate words before storming out of the house you once shared, grabbing only the essentials – your keys, your phone, and your bag. The last thing you said when he demanded to know where you were going was a truth laced with a hidden lie, where, in fact, you answered him correctly, only omitting the true intention behind your trip.

“Somewhere far away from you.”

That’s how you ended up here, standing in front of a plain white door that now served as the only barrier between you and the reckless choice you were about to make.

Summoning a fleeting jolt of courage, you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. The moment the sound echoed, your stomach dropped and the weight of what you were doing crashed down on you like a wave. There was no turning back now.

The sound of a key turning in the lock made your breath hitch. Each passing millisecond felt like an eternity, your uneven breathing exposing the anxiety surging through your body.

You had rehearsed a dozen speeches on your way here – carefully thought-out words that would explain everything, rationalize your decision, maybe even give it some dignity. But the second the door opened and his familiar face came into view, every carefully crafted sentence vanished.

All that remained were the raw, desperate words that spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“I wanna relieve my stress, Heeseung.”

Without noticing, your eyes fluttered closed when you blurted out, as if you couldn’t bear to see Heeseung’s reaction to it, extremely embarrassed of how you voiced your inner desire. However, his silence was more than enough to make you hesitantly reopen then, expecting anything but the scenery that blessed your sight, making your throat close and the simple action of breathing extremely hard. 

Heeseung stood there, freshly out of the shower after arriving from a very exhausting day at work. Clearly not expecting company, he had thrown on only a comfortable pair of sweatpants that hung low on his waist, the waistband of his underwear peeking out teasingly. 

His exposed torso was graced with droplets of water that danced slowly through its extension, his mild tanned and flustered skin serving as a beautiful background canvas, giving you a private show you hadn’t requested, yet you were beyond thrilled to witness.

At first, Heeseung was very confused with furrowed brows and lost soft doe eyes scanning you as if trying to resolve a riddle. But then, realization hit in an instant when he pieced the puzzle: you, stress relief, clearly nervous at his door…

“Oh?”

The single word failed to snap you out of your shameless admiration. 

Heeseung had an attractive physique, you already knew it. Tall figure, broad shoulders, waist slightly thinner than his hips, effortlessly strong arms; covered in his usual casual suit he was normally the culprit behind your small, careless mistakes, like burning your finger or miscutting a vegetable because your mind wandered a bit too far.

Now it felt like having access to forbidden footage, something you weren’t supposed to see, although you wanted to. Your gaze had been trailing every inch of his exposed form as if you were reading your favorite book, lingering longer on the defined V-line near to where he was covered, almost like daring you to look lower. 

You almost didn’t notice how he shifted on his feet, body language switching instantly to match your dark eyes devouring his flesh deliberately.

Heeseung took a step closer and leaned on the door frame, his head dropping forward just to try to search for your hungry eyes, the fragrance of his shampoo permeating your senses like a flood.

“So you want my help?”

The question came quiet, yet sultry as ever, and acted as a stronger trigger to pull you out of your daze bubble completely, only now noticing how close he was.

Your cheeks exposed your mortification at being caught, though you didn’t actually want to hide your need and desire – it was more like a moral shame, knowing that as soon as you allowed Heeseung to cross a specific line, there was no turning back.

With your fingers clutching your purse's handle firmly, you bravely nodded, tracking your eyes up and seeing the movement of Heeseung cocking his head to the side, as well as the curve of his lips turning into a smirk.

“Yes, I–I want your help.”

Hearing your consent replaced Heeseung’s mild doubt by an urge to take action, as if your words ignited something darker, deeper, that reflected each nuance of it on his drooping eyes. Something you hadn't seen in years, because the only gaze your husband managed to flash you was the usual disgusted, angry, disappointed one; something tempting, and unafraid, you took the bait.

“Come in, darling.”

Your trembling legs somehow managed to follow Heeseung's lead. He had made the subtle decision to brush his hand lightly against your waist as he guided you to his bedroom, your gaze unfocused barely paying attention to the decor of his apartment.

The only things your mind could fully grasp were the warmth of his fleeting touch on your lower back, the soft, dim light that bathed the cozy interior of his space, and that the outcome that interaction would lead to was implicitly obvious.

It felt oddly familiar, like when you lost your virginity – the weight of the forbidden, the eagerness to start and explore mingled with the fear of disappointment and regret, the realization that there was no turning back and things would change afterward.

It was a confusing, insecure mixture of emotions that left you dizzy, especially since you had always followed the vows of your marriage, promising to cherish, respect, and remain loyal to your partner.

But it was hard to hold onto that promise when you were the only one making an effort. It felt like an empty promise, broken, shattered, where only your side remained intact.

“What happened?”

Your thoughts were so intense and overwhelming that you didn't even realize Heeseung had ushered you to sit at the edge of his soft bed, while he pulled the chair from the pair in the corner of the room and brought it closer to you, sitting directly in front of you.

You raised your sad, lost gaze to Heeseung, finding in his eyes an offer of care and attention. There was an underlying lust simmering beneath the surface, threatening to take over, but he was determined to stay composed, ensuring your consent came first.

Heeseung communicated with you without words, a connection so deep it made your heart race, as if the two of you could read each other effortlessly. A small, shaky sigh escaped your parted lips as your fingers fidgeted with your bag, seeking grounding in something tangible, something solid amidst the chaos in your mind.

You were about to cheat. Not just your husband but the promise you had made, once sacred. It felt like madness.

“You know I’m here, right?” Heeseung’s reassuring voice pulled you out of the whirlwind of your thoughts, anchoring you to the present. And with that, you nodded and began.

“He's been... strange.”

Your eyes avoided Heeseung’s curious gaze as he leaned forward at first, close enough to rest his elbows on his knees while enveloping your hands in his warm, comforting grasp. He gave you a gentle squeeze, encouraging you to continue. You shivered and gathered strength to keep going.

“We’ve been fighting a lot lately, and it feels like… If I was already not enough before, now I’m even worse.”

"You were never ‘not enough,’ Y/N,” Heeseung interjected gently but firmly. You darted your eyes briefly towards him and he was frowning a bit. 

“I know, it’s just…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, holding back tears you didn’t want your husband to deserve. “He’s always put me in this place, and I think I started going there on my own. Like, I’m the incapable one, the one who screws everything up, the one who lost her sex appeal and can’t please him anymore...”

Heeseung listened intently, his thumb softly brushing over the back of your hand like a silent reassurance that he was there for you. It was a comfort unlike anything you had felt in a long time.

“And lately... I think he’s–” You hesitated, your gaze unfocused as it landed on a random spot on the chair behind Heeseung. “He’s been coming home late from work, and honestly, I’m relieved to some extent...” A humorless laugh escaped you. “But with the things he’s been saying, like how he could find something better elsewhere, how I’m dispensable… It’s hard not to think he’s...” You took a trembling breath, the tears you had been holding back falling slowly. “...That he’s cheating on me.”

You weren’t crying in full sobs or breaking down entirely. They were quiet tears of realization, a painful acceptance that everything you had worked to keep standing had already crumbled long ago, now waiting to be buried by you; tears of relief, knowing, somehow, you tried your very best. 

Heeseung waited a few moments before raising your hands, still enveloped by his, to place a soft kiss on them. The following words sounded harsh and weighted contrastingly heavy with how tender his lips brushed your skin as he did so.

“He is.”

You froze, feeling your heart skip a beat and your stomach dropping. Your slightly widened eyes snapped to Heeseung’s, searching for any sign of dishonesty or teasing, but all you found was an expression of empathy, compassion that seemed to hurt him almost as much as it hurt you.

“W-What do you mean?”

Even though your voice came reluctantly and your eyes kept drifting to every inch of Heeseung’s expression, as if you expected for it to be a massive lie he was telling you, that new piece of information had your entire being reacting weirdly, awakening – or intensifying – a stronger desire to maintain your previous plan, morality being thrown out the window. 

Heeseung’s jaw tightened at your expectant, griefing eyes, and for a moment he looked away as though struggling to find the right words, the ones not to hurt you even more. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but steady, and made you wince with a bittersweet feeling.

“He’s been spending a lot of time with someone in finance these past few weeks,” a sudden pang in your heart made your breath hitch. “And… from what I’ve seen, it’s not just friendly. His hand is always on her waist, and the smiles they exchange...” He trailed off, not wanting to add to your pain, especially by how your lips pursed together into a small sad pout. “I caught them kissing the other day. I didn’t confront them– I didn’t even know how to tell you. I didn’t know where you worked, and the only chance I had to see you was at your house.” He gave a small, almost remorseful smile, avoiding your gaze. “And honestly, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I saw him.”

His tone was apologetic and sincere, giving you enough to ignite a growing anger in your chest. 

If you had doubts before, this was more than a confirmation. Not only about your marriage obviously going down in shambles, but mostly to know you weren’t wrong for searching for Heeseung in the first place.

Your mind was caught in a tug-of-war, split into two opposing forces. One side replayed the vows you had once written for your husband, while the other mercilessly pointed out the everyday moments that made it clear he no longer deserved a single word of those promises.

That latter part desperately sought justification, crafting reasons to convince yourself this wasn’t wrong. He did it first, it whispered. He cheated on you. You have every right to even the score.

But this wasn’t just about revenge. It was something deeper – a mix of fractured morality and raw, unfiltered longing for the man standing before you. A man who had just confessed that he feared losing control if he ever faced your husband.

His words stirred something primal within you, replacing the sting of betrayal with a flicker of desire you couldn’t ignore.

Heeseung, in far less time than your husband had, had proven you were worth it. He showed you that you were someone worth fighting for, someone who deserved more.

The intensity in Heeseung's gaze was palpable, his eyes burning with a heat that made your breath hitch. When your own heavy, searching eyes met his, the air between you thickened, electric and tense. The room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for one of you to make the next move.

Yet, as undeniable as the chemistry was, you were still hurt. The anger bubbling within you was impossible to suppress. Every fiber of your body screamed frustration, the weight of betrayal pounding against your chest like a drumbeat.

There was a fire inside you – a burning rage that demanded release. You wanted to scream, to lash out, to make someone – your husband – feel the same devastation that was ripping through you. It felt like an overwhelming need to break something, to pour all your fury into a physical outlet.

And it was then that you realized you needed to take it out on something. 

Before you could act on the reckless thought of leaning forward to claim Heeseung's kissable lips, he rose from his seat with a quiet confidence, still holding your hands. Gently, he tugged you to stand, leaving you momentarily dazed. Your bag slipped from your shoulder onto the chair he was sitting as he guided your body to turn away from him, positioning your back to his chest.

You shivered when his warm breath fanned over your ear, your composure threatening to crumble entirely. Your legs gave a slight, involuntary tremble, as if warning you that, depending on his next actions, you might find yourself falling face-first on the bed in front of you.

“Can I touch you?”

His voice was soft, almost reverent, and the question sparked a mix of confusion and curiosity spiraling through you. You nodded silently, unable to form a coherent response, and his hands moved to your shoulders, his warm touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I know this is all fucked up," he murmured. "But I can’t let you carry all this tension.”

You let out a small chuckle, your shoulders wiggling slightly as you did, allowing your head to tilt to the side. The gesture opened a new, vulnerable space for him to explore, and the silent invitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m tired…” you whispered, your voice fragile. “Frustrated also. But so, so tired of being with him. And now that I know he cheated on me,” your voice wavered, thick with suppressed anger and sorrow, “I–I think– I know I deserve better, but… I don’t even know what better looks like.”

Heeseung’s thumbs pressed into the tense muscles of your upper back right after you spoke. You swore you could feel the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he leaned closer, his breath grazing your ear sweetly, yet sultrily.

“I can show you what better looks like, darling,” he said lowering an octave, his tone both tempting and genuine, but mostly, filthy.

A low, involuntary hum escaped you, uncertain whether it was from the pleasure of his skilled touch kneading away your tension or the raw temptation dripping from his words, words that lingered in the air like a seductive promise, enticing you towards a darker path, leading to a gate of ruins – the kind born of broken vows and desires forbidden.

“Can you?” you shot back, your voice soft but tinged with challenge and curiosity, enough to elicit a low chuckle from Heeseung.

“Yeah. If you let me…” His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck and a shiver coursed through you, your body instinctively relaxing under his touch. “I can show you. Just say the word, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, and the now painful, agonizing memories of your dead relationship clouded the course of your next decisions. Not that if you were thinking entirely rationally you would avoid the temptation offered by Heeseung, nor would you shy away from the clear want to have him in a more intimate, more physical way.

Nonetheless, the rising anger towards Brendon, that had dismissed slightly but it hadn’t vanished, was slowly, yet completely taking over your being, controlling your senses and boosting the craving for making a move – a wrong move.

There was an excruciating necessity for feeling the revenge melting deliciously on your tongue, to payback, to be in charge of the trajectory of your life back again.

The morality was long gone.

“Please, Hee.”

You tilted your head back, resting against Heeseung’s shoulder. The chant in your brain yelled for you to stop, to resolve things correctly, how they should be, however your hands had already covered Heeseung’s and deliberately pulled them up, his palms now groping your covered breasts with you inciting it.

“Show me.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, your thoughts failing to keep you away from succumbing to your raw desires – Fuck Brendon, you said to yourself. He is the one to blame.

“Show me what I deserve.”

You were blinded by a mix of desire, lust and anger when Heeseung pulled you closer and began to massage your breasts vigorously, his soft lips kissing the length of your neck, jaw and then, the corner of your mouth, while his fingers varied between pinching your nipples and playing with them.

Your desire to have him was overwhelming and indescribable, your body melted under his slow and gentle touch. But that wasn't what you wanted, no. You wanted more; more intense, more fervent, hotter.

You needed to vent your growing rage, you needed to feel your frustration and pain fading away before you exploded.

“I'm angry, Hee,” you murmured through gritted teeth, your eyes narrowing only so you could turn towards Heeseung and grab him by the neck, the hands that once explored your chest now on your waist. “Don't treat me with care. Not now. Not today.”

And in a frantic movement, you attached your lips to his as if it were the last thing you were doing in your life, not even paying attention to how Heeseung's eyes were darkened and clouded by pure lust.

Heeseung felt struck by lightning when he finally kissed the lips he had dreamed of feeling for so long, but he didn't have time to appreciate a single second of their softness because you soon sought to deepen the touch, exploring his mouth with your tongue, searching for his so you could embark on a messy and needy kiss.

Your hands tugged at his hair lightly, occasionally trailing down to his bare, warm shoulder, shivering under your touch. Your heads moved in an unsynchronized rhythm – there was no time to cherish, to appreciate the intimate connection. You just wanted to feel him closer, to feel him deep in you.

When Heeseung's large hands grabbed your ass, you murmured something that sounded like “more”, quickly indicating with your own hand for him to squeeze harder.

The request was swiftly met, your bodies pressing together hungrily to the point where you noticed the erection that was growing under the few cloths that covered Heeseung. You moaned when you felt him hard against you, your breathing hitching.

When you least expected it your back was laid out on Heeseung's bed, with him on top of you, still kissing your lips, your breaths heavy and interrupted, however not enough to break the connection.

But you still wanted more.

“More, Hee. More.” You exhaled at one point, when for a brief moment, your lips parted.

Heeseung had already thrown his sanity out the window. He had intended to treat you with care, affection, and show you how worthy you were, but his plans seemed to differ from yours; you seemed to need an intense and passionate sex, one that he knew he could offer you.

Without much hesitation, he dared to detach his lips from yours just so he could move them down your still covered torso, grazing the fabric of your shirt and stopping at the edge of the waistband of your slacks.

Heeseung guided his gaze upwards, only to find you slightly disheveled, panting, and with swollen lips. The skin around your mouth was reddened from the intensity of the kiss you shared, and he was sure he wasn’t much different himself.

“Please, don’t stop…” You whined and squirmed a little when you realized he was taking too much time to appreciate your expression of desperation instead of using it to make you feel good.

You felt your panties uncomfortably soaked with your arousal and your whole body boiled with lust and need for more.

More, more, more, it was what the chant in your head was screaming now, completely lost in the lustful haze that overwhelmed you agonizingly, mixed with the anger of having been betrayed, been cheated on.

Your hand fit perfectly on top of Heeseung's head when he finally removed your bottoms along with your panties in one go; his beautiful eyes, previously full of attention and affection, now showed pure need for having you naked and exposed.

“Shit, darling…” Heeseung groaned, seeing your wet folds and pulsing hole. “You’re so fucking perfect, so fucking wet,” he kissed your inner thigh and you winced, throwing your head back on the pillow and trying to relax your breathing. “Release your fucking anger on my hair while I make you fucking cum with my mouth, yeah?”

Although you didn’t see, he flashed you a last mischievous glance and a smirk before darting back to stare at your inviting pussy, his own respiration hitching as his mouth watered. 

Wasting no time, Heeseung dipped his flattened tongue all along your extension, sucking at the very end straight on your clit, just to get a preliminary taste but stirring quite a loud moan from you. Your hips waved forward to search for more immediate contact when he briefly leaned away to close his eyes, a phantom of a smile lingering on his lips as he appreciated your flavor melting in his palate.

Your hands pushed his head back down, forcing his face to dive deep into you and he couldn't be happier, even letting out a small giggle with your unashamed eagerness.

It felt amazing to receive an oral that skilled, that warm mouth working perfectly to suck your arousal enthusiastically, big nose nudging in an expert dance against your sensitive bud of nerves and, damn, that tongue assaulting your pulsing hole by entering in and eventually stroking through the other parts, passionately exploring your cunt.

Heeseung was giving you full attention.

Somehow it triggered an urge to cry in between your moans, because you were associating practically everything with your husband – the heated kisses you never really got to receive, the deprivation of sexual interactions where you felt desired, the words that lifted your self esteem.

Brendon had never treated you this way, the right way. He barely even gave you a fraction of the care and attention that Heeseung was now showering upon you, his desire to bring you pleasure evidently being treated as if it was his own, as though having you shaking and pleading for more with your drenching cunt on his mouth riled him up.

Your eyes stung and tears dared to roll down your temples onto the pillow beneath your head, the lump on your throat and a strange feeling filling your chest that only fueled your pain and anger.

Instinctively, your fingers tightened their grip on Heeseung's soft hair, strong enough to make him groan in pain, but not enough to make him complain or ask you to stop. You also forced him down once again, using his face, mouth, tongue, nose, everything to get yourself off and drift the sorrow away.

“F–Fuck–” A whimper escaped your lips when Heeseung entertained your idea instead of backing off, intensifying how he was eating you out deliciously, his own breath growing stronger, ragged within each passing minute he deepened his head between your legs, nearly suffocating himself.

You could feel the foreign knot on your stomach tightening along with the pang in your chest and Heeseung’s grip on your thighs; his hands moved to under them to position on his broad shoulders, skin on skin making you notice how hot both of your bodies were, and, at the same time, serving as a not-so-gentle lucidity reminder of the intimacy you were sharing.

Although the temptation of achieving your release just with Heeseung’s mouth tickled your core, you couldn’t help the sane part of your brain prompting that, perhaps, the ongoing scenario wouldn’t happen even again and you had to live it up the best.

Everything was so confusing. You just had a reckless, frustrated and anger driven decision that led you to have Heeseung buried deep in your pussy, nonetheless you were still married – at least on paper. 

You had a husband. 

The hand that held Heeseung in place was curiously your left one, as if the whole world wanted to remember you were being a cheater; your pretty ring sparkled amidst his dark locks in a beautiful, nearly artistic mess.

A roll of eyes brought you back to the overwhelming sensation of Heeseung’s warmth involving your sensitiveness, snapped you back into the haze of unawareness of your sad reality. He cherished your climax as much as you, and was willingly determined to make you cum just by his mouth. You, on the other hand, had different plans.

“Hee…” You called in a moan and tried to pull him away, your closed eyes making the unleashed tears flow easily. He shook his head and pushed himself down again, oblivious to the turmoil blending with your pleasure. 

He only halted his movements when you added. “Mhm, stop, please–”

A soft kiss within a plop sound was planted on your clit when he stopped, stirring a small shake in your body and a quiet whine. Heeseung lifted his gaze and caught your furrowed brows and bitten-swollen lips, and also noticed your tears.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

His voice carried a hint of concern, unsure if your tears were from pleasure or sadness, especially since you had just asked him to stop, leaving him dealing with mixed signals.

“Nothing's wrong,” you shook your head and smiled, because the man in front of you not only respected your request immediately but also prioritized your well-being over the sex. A rarity in your life.

Even so, Heeseung maneuvered your legs to place them back on the soft mattress and moved to hover comfortably over you, his eyes searching for your still closed ones. You felt a gentle stroke on your cheek, followed by his warm breath fanning your nose and lips, signaling he was closer to you than you had realized.

Your free hand blindly traced the path of his arms to his neck, while the other, still tangled in his hair, pulled him into a kiss with one singular, simple purpose: to drown out all the overthinking that had started to flood your mind.

The tears intensified as your lips moved in sync, and when Heeseung tried to pull back, likely to ask what was wrong, you tugged him down again and silenced the possibility by deepening the kiss.

A terrible feeling began to rise, fighting against the one that had filled the room minutes ago – lust.

You wanted Heeseung as a man. You wanted him to keep touching you as he did moments ago, to give you the pleasure you deserved and wanted, not only because he offered that chance but mainly because you desired it and allowed it.

Yet, it was so messy and confusing. The weight of guilt pressed heavily on your chest, the self-awareness and the realization of cheating beginning to restrict your actions.

And then came the anger.

He betrayed you first. He didn’t treat you right. He didn’t respect you. Maybe, he didn’t even love you.

That marriage had been dead for so long. The façade you had desperately tried to keep intact by scattering beautiful flowers along the path was already thrown in the trash. You deserved better – you deserved a confident, strong, incredible and undeniably attractive gentleman like Heeseung.

Heeseung.

Heeseung, who was right in front of you, so close, kissing you with a slow, addictive heat. Heeseung, who had respected you from the very beginning. Heeseung, who risked parts of his morality, his life, and his values just to get closer to you. Heeseung, who occupied every corner of your mind.

Why was it so hard to accept that you might actually deserve him?

A shaky sigh broke the intoxicating kiss as Heeseung propped himself up on one arm to look into your glossy, reddened eyes. Before any questioning words could escape his swollen lips, you allowed your raw desire to be spoken aloud.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” you demanded, your voice soft, yet firm and serious as your eyes roamed Heeseung’s features. 

His forehead was starting to damp some hairs in sweat, his nostrils moved along his intense breathing and his lips, parted, showed your work of art on them, glistening with your saliva and earlier arousal.

Your hand covered the one that still lingered tenderly on your cheek, grabbing it to drive slowly down to your pussy.

“I want to feel you in every way possible, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t deny the confusion of your actions, the sudden cry, the smallest hesitation he caught in between the kiss, and now this. He was in no place to deny such a filthy request though, a request that got his neglected, aching dick throbbing in his boxers, nearly screaming for some relief or space to breathe.

Still, an incomprehensive sensation lingered on the back of his head as he tracked your every face motion.

“Are you sure?” The question itself was just a confirmation you were alright, you were still thinking somehow straight and taking decisions you really wanted to live up with.

Cheating wasn’t Heeseung’s game either. He hated the idea of being or having an affair as much as you; infidelity never sounded right to his ears. Nonetheless the situation was so uniquely specific. His true concern was when you would dump that jackass you called a husband, the one who wouldn’t lift a finger to make you happy, the one who, quite the opposite, would be more than thrilled to make you feel worse every passing day.

Selfish as it may be, it was genuine to his intentions. Heeseung had been fully aware of his plan from the start, knowing it wasn’t entirely right to do so, but sounded like the most possible option – to show what you deserve, and how he would willingly give it to you.

Now, he wished he could have stayed loyal to the original intent of this entire thing, where he promised himself to help you out of a toxic relationship without getting personally attached.

But it was you. You, with your charming smile. You, with your pretty expressive eyes. You, with your loving personality. You, with your sincere care for those you loved.

You, taking over his thoughts within every shade of mundanity and profanity, from the most casual to the most profound and intimate area.

Tasting your lips was the first stumble. Venturing in your intimacy was where he fell. 

“Yes, Hee,” you nodded, softened eyes showing your need along with a press of his fingertips into your hole, teasing an intrusion. He moaned with you. “I’m sure.” 

“Fuck,” a curse slipped from his mouth like a grunt, and his lips pressed against yours to kiss you again, because in no world he would miss the opportunity of having you this close, to drink from your whimpers as he circled his finger on your clenching pussy.

Heeseung was skilled in many nuances, you came to realize. But kissing was definitely his most noticeable talent. He knew where and when to move to match your energy, how to use his tongue to grace yours in a deliberate dance that twisted your feelings, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy, craving for more.

You might have taken his supposition of you deserving more a bit too far, because you also noticed Heeseung was apparently tailor-made to provoke your instincts of wanting, of more – it never felt enough.

So when he finally inserted his middle finger, you jolted and gasped mid kiss, without being able to prevent your hips reflexively wiggling to get additional contact, nor your hands tightening around his silky strands, trembling just enough to make your desire noticeable.

“More,” you whispered in a shaky breath, lips brushing against each other before Heeseung’s ones trailed lazily along your cheek, lowering to your neck. You moaned. “Add more, Heeseung–” 

Your spongy interior hugged his following finger in a warm, tempting hug and he didn’t hold back his shameless humping against your leg that matched the pump into you, his cock twitching in despair for release, for freedom. It felt tight; both your pussy and the fabric around his length.

Heeseung panted in between the sloppy kisses he delivered along the extension of your goosebumped skin, loving how needy you sounded and acted by clutching his hair stronger and waving your body forward. 

His fingers worked wonders inside you, palm brushing lightly against your clit and providing a teasing amount of friction, but didn't give enough fulfillment to leave you satisfied. Both of you grew impatient before the silent shared-thought of Heeseung’s cock filling your pussy, replacing his two fingers, so he could feel all of you and hit your every spot.

A displeased whine followed by a quiet surprised gasp jumped out of your mouth when Heeseung removed his hand from you, lewdly licking his fingers clean with an arousing smirk before quickly sneaking it under your penult clothing piece to unclasp your bra.

You helped by arching your back just to give some space, and didn’t hide your shock by how easily he did it with just one hand; the tight tension that held boobs in place soothed as he removed your shirt altogether, making you sigh and wince a little as the room air fanned your, now, completely naked skin.

“Need to fuck you, darling,” he muttered, voice low, velvety and desperate. “Need it so bad.”

Your eyes followed closely how dilated Heeseung’s pupils were, blown with unfiltered, bare hunger dedicated to you. He unashamedly showed his craving by licking his swollen lips at the sight of your perked nipples aching for some attention, and for brief seconds he cupped your breasts with each of his hands and kneaded softly, just to feel the smoothness of them.

Your lazy smirk and hooded eyes demonstrated your enjoyment with the devotion Heeseung was giving you willingly, without asking anything in return as you were used to; your husband always sharply requested something back if you said you wanted him to play with your body and give you something instead of using it for his own pleasure. 

“You’re so fucking hot, darling,” Heeseung complimented with a quiet grin, worshipping your gorgeous body exposed for his eyes, eyes that showered you with want, with genuine interest on what they were seeing.

Such a foreign experience for you.

He grazed his fingertips downwards the fat of your waist and hips as he, himself, lowered all the way on the bed before standing up on his feet. 

“You think so?” You asked shyly, barely audible as you propped yourself in one arm to watch the small show Heeseung was giving you by removing his sweatpants; you couldn’t help your salivation or the pulses in your cunt seeing the shape of his cock, drawn along the fabric, and the big dampened portion indicating his leaking tip that teased the subsequent vision.

When Heeseung finally exposed his length completely, you couldn’t hold back the sigh, the wide-eyed stare, or the dry swallow that slid down your throat.

He was big. Long and flushed, angrily aching, begging for relief. And he was about to be inside you.

“Fuck…” 

Heeseung’s grin stretched with your adorable, yet sultry reaction – the whisper of your curse traveling straight into his ear, flattering his ego; your legs closing and your thighs clenching involuntarily in order to find some satisfaction stirring a throb on his hardened cock. 

“I’m totally sure of it, doll,” the endearment got your needy hole clenching more, and Heeseung seductively hovering on top of you with his piercing eyes locked onto yours didn’t help much. Your breath hitched, eyes gleaming with expectation, but your cheeks warmed after he added. “You’re like a goddess.”

Maybe it wasn’t exactly his words, but how he sustained eye contact while he voiced them. Heeseung had an attitude that got your core bubbling in a rush of excitement, both sexual and… affectionate. 

Effortlessly and shamelessly, he had expressed just how deeply you affected him, simply by being in your presence. The way his body responded to yours with such ease, by nothing more than fleeting touches and exchanged words, with your consent, felt surreal. It was so far from the reality you were used to, so unexpected.

“You make me go insane…” He continued, kissing your neck while positioning himself in between your legs.

Your hands grabbed the sheets beneath you as he pressed the tip on your pussy, his free hand caressing your cheek as the other held his support beside your face.

“Dreamed about you from the very first day…”

The confession sounded raw, voice slowly pronouncing each word with care, but hoarse enough to show the sincerity of it, as if he had let down his guard completely and was letting his deepest thoughts escape without filters. It caused an unfamiliar wave within you, something that both eased your nerves and sparked your curiosity, something that got you clutching the sheets harder and your eyes fluttering close.

“When I found out you were married to that pathetic excuse of a man,” Heeseung maintained his tone low and deliberate, matching the rhythm he started to enter you, face still buried in your neck. “I was so, so pissed.”

Your breath hitched, overwhelmed by the feeling of the weight of his length and how deliciously he was stretching your hole.

On top of that, Heeseung’s unfiltered words didn’t leave an open space for you to add anything else, too flustered, aroused, lost in your pleasure and bafflement under the bare feeling of intimacy, leaving the job of talking entirely for him.

So he kept going, taking your silence and how your brows furrowed into a contorted expression of pleasure as a positive reaction. 

“I saw him talking shit about you every day,” he murmured, already more than halfway inside you, taking his time, savoring the way you clenched around him. Soft and breathy grunts escaped amidst the speech he chose to vent to you. “And I couldn’t do anything, not back then. I had to get closer to him to get closer to you.”

That piece of information was new, though you could easily deduce it by sorting out the fragments you already had. You wished you could fully comprehend it, respond as you wanted, maybe even thank him or whatever, but the way Heeseung deepened his movements, his body pressing against yours, his pelvis in contact with your skin, was clouding your mind.

“I wanted to destroy your marriage, love. I’m not even ashamed to admit it,” he whispered against your ear like telling you a secret, then raised his head to search your gaze. “So, so, so beautiful…” 

You fluttered your lashes, weakly trying to meet his eyes. Your hands, once gripping the sheets, trembled as they found their way to Heeseung's shoulders. He noticed how your eyelids struggled to stay open, feeling the weight of his body on top of yours, knowing that every sensation was pulling you deeper into a space where he believed you truly belonged – completely immersed in raw pleasure.

Your cheeks flushed, and although Heeseung believed it was from the lustful warmth, it was mostly because of his genuine words, the way he told his side of the story, which left you disoriented yet absorbing every sentence.

“You’re gorgeous, darling,” he said once again, as though expecting you to absorb the compliments. Knowing how unwanted your relationship made you feel, he had a mission to make you understand you were wonderful and he was deeply affected by you. “The prettiest woman I ever laid my eyes on.”

You whimpered quietly when he dared to move an inch away, pulling out his cock a little just to pump into you again. With your body already limp, you gave up on keeping watching his handsome face up-close, the glimpse of a tender smile being your last view before closing your eyes.

Heeseung took your decision as a silent invite for a kiss, hand sneaking in between your hair towards you nape, attaching his mouth on yours in a slow and sensual touch that got you melting even more. He muffled his own grunts as he drank in your beautiful moans.

You couldn’t come up with a proper description about the fluttering in your chest and stomach with such a gentle contact, nor the way his hips moved deliberately, allowing you to not only adjust, but feel his deep thrusts everywhere. 

Somehow, you really felt Heeseung everywhere. 

His tongue twisting softly with yours, sucking your lips with a slow passion that took your breath away. The words, lingering on the back of your head and mixing with the amount of pleasure he was giving you, had your heart beating louder and stronger against your ribcage. 

“You deserve more,” he carried on with his mission of making you feel worthy, stopping the kiss to press his lips on the corner of your mouth. “So much more, darling.”

And although you wanted to enjoy the slow sex he was providing you, the words of devotion he was offering with so much ease and genuineness, your messy thoughts and feelings suppressed it.

It felt like Heeseung’s adoration triggered even harder those reminiscences of your broken marriage. You remembered the times you sacrificed yourself, damaging your mental health for someone that threw everything away to cheat you, to have an affair. 

Regret was an euphemism to begin with what was going through your head. You felt so ridiculous for letting things get to that point. It was an unpleasant blend of blaming your husband and blaming yourself because, even if you tried to see it from the perspective that he never deserved even a fraction of your care and love, there was still the part where you chose to stay.

And why?

You had always brushed aside the possibility of divorce. At times, questioning why you stayed meant entering a limbo without an exit – or one you didn’t want to find. So, you avoided thinking too much about it. You accepted what he gave you.

But why? 

Why did you accept so little?

Your friends had asked you that a few times, but your anger grew at the mere thought of considering the question. Eventually, they stopped asking too.

It was a silent answer you didn’t want to give – acknowledging that the man who had promised you eternal love didn’t love you anymore hurt your ego, hurt your sense of integrity. Instead of leaving, you chose to stay and try to fix it, to make yourself wanted and loved again. But how could you change something immutable?

Anger.

It flared again, thundering in your chest and making you tight your hands into fists. The fingers tangled in Heeseung’s hair gripped a tuft tightly, pulling unconsciously as a way to release your rising rage. He hissed right after, furrowing his brows trying to understand what was happening with you.

Heeseung felt like perceiving your actions and moods with surprising ease after spending quite some time along with you, observing your demeanor and how you changed expressions due to something in particular, either for good or bad. 

However, right at that moment, when he was fucking you nice and slow, kissing you with care and giving you the amount of fondness he felt you deserved, he sensed confusing signals about what you really wanted. Or maybe he was interpreting your needs through his own perspective, assuming you sought love and affection when, in fact, you craved for something tougher.

Heeseung pressed your lips together once more, but now with less delicacy than before as testing the waters. You gave an immediate reaction, gradually loosening your grip on his locks to something teetering the bearable and actually pulling him closer, deepening whatever you could deep while kissing him.

The frustration in your chest dissipated as your tongues clashed aggressively against one another, suppressing your growing moans as he started to thrust faster. Within seconds, Heeseung started to hit a certain spot that got you shivering and letting out a particular loud moan under his strong hold on your body.

He quickly noticed the change in your body language and adapted himself to it. One last tug on your lower lip between his teeth, strong enough to almost leave bloody marks and elicit a groan from your throat, was what told you he was about to change positions.

Heeseung slightly raised his upper body to position himself on his knees and looked at you with a certain fierceness, with hunger, and you, now with your eyes mildly open, saw the bareness of his lust stirring the most profound heated desire carved in your soul, bringing back to life something you didn’t notice you had lost.

“So this is what you wanted, huh?” Heeseung flashed you a devilish grin, his voice low and notably teasing, finding support on your open thighs. 

His pelvis, once slow, began to move with more urgency, gradually increasing the pace together with the smirk that graced the corner of his reddened lips. You winced, feeling dizzy with the sound of his low moans and the slapping skin-on-skin.

Rolling your eyes with a content smile and a quiet nod was your failed attempt to give a proper response, because you felt too lost embracing the sudden switch that got your core throbbing in excitement, at the same time that released your tensed nerves.

“S’good,” you whimpered and arched your back slightly, head being thrown back as you did so. 

Heeseung cooed at the view of your boobs bouncing with each of his deep pounds into you, together with how your hands desperately struggled to find a grounding physical piece as you grabbed everything around you – the sheets, his arms, the pillow.

He had picked up a rhythm that kept you swaying on the edge of your growing release, so extremely close to snapping you into a bliss of pleasure, yet far enough to drive you insane.

He was playing with you like a toy – his favorite. Denying you the climax of your desire – so freaking amazing. 

“Y’could have told me earlier, darling,” he clicked his tongue with faux disappointment, breathing heavy in between his sharp words. “Would be fucking you like this from the very begining.”

You even tried to murmur a soft apology, but it got lost amidst your messy whimpers, your hazed mind, foggy with need making it hard to think of anything other than Heeseung’s cock, Heeseung’s voice, Heeseung’s name. Heeseung.

And you wanted more. Always. Fucking. More.

So with your lips falling open, you were able to only plead.

“More… Please, Hee, more…”

Heeseung was going crazy as much as you. He felt his body becoming exhausted with each passing thrust, however, he had no intention of stopping too soon, not without feeling the amazing clench of your pussy hugging his dick so fucking good as you cummed all over his shaft, not without letting his release fullfill you in a way that you would never forget who fucked you dumb so good like that. 

It felt like a magic spell, drifting him back and forth into reality and insanity, because of how good your cunt were making him feel, allowing his length to go fast, deep and strong into your pulsing hole; spongy interior pressing his hardened cock that ached for an orgasm. 

“Fucking pussy– Fucking tight pussy, makes me insane– Shit–” He panted in between breathy moans, voice coming out low, yet strained as his body faltered forward.

You lost count on how many times your eyes had rolled, not that you were actually trying to number it; the ecstasy Heeseung was providing you was wild, lunatic even. You only noticed his closeness again when his lips brushed your neck, not kissing or anything. He was just… there, as lost in his pleasure as you, muttering a row of curses and your name within gorgeous moans. 

You wanted to cum so, so bad, and somehow you couldn’t let go of it fully, the pressing knot on your lower stomach refusing to unfold into your orgasm. 

“Hee– Mhm–”

Heeseung was in love with how distant and broken you sounded, babbling nonsense as he pounded deeper. In love with how hot and sweaty your skin was in contact with his equal one, showing how intimate you two were. In love with your beautiful noises, that made his balls tight with his near climax. 

“Fuck– You like cheating on your jerk husband with me, don't you?” The breathy question murmured against your earlobe had no purpose of getting an answer, yet you gave one, echoing ‘yes’ like a prayer, hand in fist hitting lightly Heeseung’s broad shoulder as a way to find an anchor. You were so close. “It's okay, darling. It’s okay, yeah?” 

Heeseung kissed your neck, then your lips. 

“You deserve better.”

Heeseung led his fingers to rub your clit, eyes locked on your contorted face. So close.

“I can give you better.”

Heeseung’s body trembled nearly at the same time as yours started to shake uncontrollably. The wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much to handle, so you simply let go, relaxing your entire being and allowing it to take control of your movements without thinking deep into it.

You saw the world turning into white for a few seconds, your ears ringing with an annoying, far noise that clouded your mind and numbed your limbs. Heeseung's name escaped your lips, the ones stained due to the long, passionate kisses and delicious bites, like a sob that was both painful and sweet.

You barely heard anything Heeseung cursed through his heavy breath and addictive moans, nor your name being called as he filled you with thick ropes of his warm cum, let alone the kiss he placed on your chin right after or the chuckle he let out when noticing your drool.

The burning sensation in your stomach traveled its path until it reached your cunt, releasing in a squirt as you cried and squirmed. 

You cried, tears dancing on your face as you, slowly yet impactful, went through every possible sensation, but not really feeling all of them. It was weirdly good, an unprecedented experience you didn’t know you needed to have until right at that moment.

You wanted to make it last forever.

After what you decided to define as minutes passed, remotely distant, like a muffed blur, fighting with the dense fog inside your head, you started to hear Heeseung’s voice trying to bring you back to him.

“Hey, darling,” he kissed your cheek softly, brushing his thumb on your lower lip, a contact that contrasted absurdly with the fact that he was still buried deep within you. “I’ve got you, mhm?” 

And he followed to shower you with affectionate sweet words, asking if you were alright, for you to open your eyes, to say some words just to know you were fine. At some random moment you lazily blinked, hardly actually seeing Heeseung due to your tear-drenched eyes. 

“You made me squirt,” you whispered weakly, the lingering touch of Heeseung’s lips on yours still feeling like a ghostly caress, though you felt his body trembling as well as his smile when he chuckled.

“Hell yeah, I did.”

Heeseung slowly searched for air to his exhausted lungs, his body relaxing but making sure not to press your exhausted one. He was worried about your integrity after such a long and hard orgasm. 

“You good, baby?” 

The pet name felt natural, as if for Heeseung, calling you with endearing nicknames was as common as drinking water on a daily basis.

The warmth of his touch – he had let his hand, which had once gently caressed your face and brushed away sweat-drenched strands of hair, travel to your waist – was loving, making you yearn for more while feeling valued.

His gaze, full of care, radiated an aura of calm, like a magical magnet pulling you closer; there was no other explanation for your desperate desire to kiss him, as a way to reciprocate what he offered you freely.

Heeseung made you feel wanted, cherished, and respected in ways you hadn't known in far too long. It was all so new, though not entirely; it was confusing and messy and chaotic, but so, so good.

You gave a small nod in response and pulled him into another kiss, this time slow and gentle. You felt him pull his softened length from you, a small hiss and a frown coming from your side due to your sensitiveness. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung whispered in a genuine apologetic tone before diving back again to keep his tongue brushing deliberately on yours.

He was kissing you with so much feeling, yet in a sensual motion that got your breath caught in your throat, the beats of your heart matching the pace of the subtle pressure of his swollen lips against yours.

You could feel a phantom of a smile coming from Heeseung in between the kiss, as if he was thrilled about what just happened with you two – and to be honest, so were you. He had given you not only an unreal, breathtaking sexual experience that led your body to feel limp and extremely relaxed, but he mostly showed you the possibility beyond your current life.

Heeseung unveiled, somehow, your freedom to quit the confines you were trapped in, a way out of the prison that held you in place, restricting your needs, your wants and, mainly, your love and affection.

He had shown you an escape. Maybe a ruined one, but still an escape. 

Nonetheless, as quickly the sweet moment started, it stopped, when a sudden wave of realization hit Heeseung. The once hazy mind that drove you both into an intense path, leading towards a more serene one, was now reactive and alert.

“Oh, fuck…” Heeseung’s voice was dripping with exasperated concern when he broke the kiss by leaning back from you with widened eyes. 

The moment you saw his expression, you couldn’t help but frown, a confused pout forming on your lips. He started scanning the bed frantically, his gaze darting around as if searching for something if it was used, would be on his… “Shit.” He glanced down to see the obvious. No condom.

His mouth opened and closed, as if the words were stuck somewhere between his brain and his tongue. He exhaled deeply, searching for comfort in your gaze, but, obviously, you wouldn’t be offering a quarter of it to him. Actually, your curious-dumbfounded eyes increased his nervousness.

“We didn’t use protection,” he finally blurted, his voice heavy with anxiety.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the whole soothing atmosphere suddenly fading in a snap as the room seemed to shift, the air growing thick. You felt a shiver running down your spine and instinctively you lifted your body, propping yourself up on your elbows, your eyes widening with a surge of fear. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You glanced back at him, your eyes wide with alarm, completely unaware of how Heeseung’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed dryly. 

His usual calm demeanor faltered before your reaction, and the fear was clear in his current state, with his body tense, pupils blown and dilated, as well as his short bursts of breath that grazed your face, blending with your equally rapid one.

The following question got your chest tightening even stronger, the weight on the room now teetering unbearable. 

“B–But you take your pills… Right..?” His voice wavered, his eyes desperately searched for reassurance in yours, his hand once gently holding you, now gripping quite fiercely on your hips.

Your immediate silence was more than enough of an answer, still you shook your head, denying. A cold spread through your chest when you realized you had made a huge mistake, your body falling back on the bed as you said, voice barely above a whisper as you did so, filled with terror. 

“I stopped taking it when my sex life stopped existing.”

Reading the situation, more specifically when he noticed your eyes brimming with fresh tears before you closed them, Heeseung quickly rushed to change his behavior, and instead of causing you even more pain and suffering, he sought to calm you.

“Hey, hey. Calm down, alright?” He positioned himself on his knees, gently taking your hands to pull you to sit as well. “We always have the option of the plan B pill, right?”

Fluttering your lids open, you sobbed, the view of Heeseung’s disheveled hair blurring due to your watered eyes. 

“But if he finds out–”

“He won’t,” Heeseung immediately interrupted, cupping your face tenderly.

He opted to ignore the pain in his chest because your instant line of thought somehow fueled a wave of realization that, despite his attempt to pull you away from that broken relationship, you might still go back to your husband as if nothing happened.

“I’ll buy it before you leave, okay?”

You let your gaze travel over Heeseung’s caring form as he gently caressed your face and placed random kisses on your lips. Your heart warmed, relief and genuine happiness flowing through every part of your body as you relaxed back, regulating your breathing. He nodded along with you, flashing a small smile that got your heartbeats thumping faster. 

“But just know that if– No. Forget it.” Heeseung started, but then cut himself off with a quiet, mysterious laugh and a shake of head.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him inquisitively with your head cocking to the side.

“Now you have to tell me.”

A sigh escaped his lips when he realized you were unwavering in your demand and decided to speak, avoiding your stare.

“I was going to say that...” He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up. “That I wouldn’t mind you carrying a child of ours.”

If it weren’t for the quietness of his room, you probably wouldn’t be able to hear a word of what he had said. Unfortunately – or not –, you heard each single part of it and your reaction was to freeze.

Heeseung immediately noticed how you tensed, the grip on his hand tightening since he hadn’t let go of one of your hands. He blushed in a deep shade of crimson, feeling mortified for saying something so outrageous, but… He freaked out. He wanted to make you feel comfortable and secure, offering you a safe place with options for any possible outcome due to both of your irresponsibility. However, he made it worse.

“Sorry. I– We don’t know each other well enough for me to say that, but... You’re special, amazing, beautiful, smart... A child of yours would be a blessing, that’s what I meant.”

He tried to explain himself and he couldn’t pinpoint if it made the situation worse. The words caught in your throat because you hadn’t prepared for such a raw declaration after such intense and wonderful sex.

Heeseung was proving to you, once again, that you deserved more and better, even in between stumbled sentences of a rambled speech.

“In any case...” He continued, gulping. “I wouldn’t want a child of ours– Yours. Mine?” He giggled, embarrassed. “To be conceived in… Y’know…”

Your stomach dropped with the realization of what you just did. Yeah. A cheating sex. You cheated on your husband. Yes, you had a husband to start with.

How had you forgotten?

Once again, you found yourself torn in between your chaotic feelings, unable to make proper decisions due to your sensitive mind. You just had an amazing moment with Heeseung and would be willing to extend for some more encounters. On the other hand, there was still so much you needed to work through – both internally and externally – and it involved another person as well. 

The one who was supposed to be the love of your life, just as the promises of youth had once told you.

But those promises now felt like distant echoes, fading against the weight of reality. The life you imagined with Brendon had been clouded by too many unanswered questions, too many unsaid things throughout plenty of years. It crashed down now, like a tide that dragged you towards the deep, profound ocean of uncertainty. 

The connection that was supposed to bring comfort now seemed like a distant and extremely painful memory, because, afterall, he betrayed you first.

Lost in your reminiscences and confusing mind, you didn’t notice when Heeseung laid you back down on the mattress, cleaning you gently while leaving you to your thoughts. He was aware of the necessity of you having to think. He couldn’t even imagine what was going on in your mind and, honestly, he didn’t know if you wanted to share with him.

Especially with him.

Heeseung was not only an acquaintance of your husband anymore. He was the man that helped you to cheat. He was your affair, the wrong side of your life, the lack of morality, of honesty, of loyalty. He would be associated with that for the rest of your days, and strangely enough, he had no regrets.

Heeseung was aware that despite all the wrong decisions made that night, in the end, you got what you deserved: affection and the feeling of being cared for.

That was what you deserved, forever; to be desired, to be adored, to be placed on a pedestal as the incredibly wonderful goddess that you were.

Brendon didn’t deserve the heart-shaped sandwiches or the love notes you worked so hard to make every day, nor the meticulous care you put into the home he lived in, even though you worked as much as he did.

He didn’t deserve the way you looked at him with fondness, although most of the time it was a pretense, hiding the real layer of what you had felt for so long and refused to accept.

He didn’t deserve to hear your beautiful voice excitedly talking about a new flower arrangement you made or the new recipe you learned and nailed on the first try. He didn’t deserve to hear your laughter while watching comedy films or when something went wrong and you giggled, embarrassed.

Heeseung didn’t know if he, himself, deserved any of that, but he wanted to make you realize that you were so much more than just a facade of a wife.

You were so much more… To him.

“How do I go back to my house now?” You asked quietly after a while, your voice breaking the silence of the room like an anvil falling into a glass-floor. 

The question, however, wasn’t exactly directed to anyone in particular, you didn’t even notice you said aloud.

Heeseung’s response caught you off guard. 

“Do you want me to take you?”

You sighed, looking at him. As said before, you had laid back on the bed and he was right by your side, caressing you while you spent your last minutes thinking about your life and your future decisions. 

Heeseung driving you back to your house would make things worse, though you wanted to see how Brendon would react to that.

Brendon. Why does his reaction still mattered to you? He literally chose the same path you did tonight, but way before you and keeping his cool, as if he wasn’t throwing his whole marriage into the thrash for some random chick at his work.

“No.” You answered after a brief, yet close inspection. “I need some time alone.”

And Heeseung’s chest tightened in pain. You could still choose to stay with your husband after everything, it has always been one of the options when everything first started.

He swallowed the urge to try to convince you of his… Love? He couldn’t even name it yet, but something was definitely blooming into his heart and you, with your beautiful presence, was the big picture in that scenario. 

“Okay,” he whispered, agreeing with you.

And although you, yourself, weren’t sure of much, Heeseung was of one thing. 

It was more than worth it. 

When you got back home, the silence and the darkness of your house greeted you, embracing your confused and broken self with something bittersweet – your home was supposed to be your comfort spot, however it felt wrong. 

Everything felt misplaced, even though nothing had moved out of position. 

You scanned every corner of the living room, and yet, despite its familiarity, it felt foreign, like you didn’t belong there anymore. Perhaps you never did.

The walls were adorned with photos of you and Brendon, frozen moments from a life that now felt distant. The blanket draped over the couch was in your favorite color, a choice you had made once. On the coffee table sat an empty beer bottle, a quiet marker of your husband’s absence.

There were traces of you both scattered throughout the room, but more of you – too much of you, as if you had been trying to compensate for something. It felt forced, a desperate attempt to fit into a space that no longer welcomed you, if it ever had.

The realization clawed at your chest, leaving a dull ache behind. How had you gone so long without seeing it? Was it Heeseung – his touch, his words – that finally broke through the carefully constructed denial? Had he been the catalyst for you noticing just how distant you had become, not only from your marriage but from yourself?

You felt like an afterthought, an appendage to someone else’s story, shaped and reshaped to fit a mold that was never meant for you. When had you started losing yourself? How had it come to this?

Those questions lingered as you retreated to the guest bedroom that night, claiming it as your sanctuary. For the first time in years, you felt the stirrings of autonomy, fragile but liberating. The divorce was inevitable now, and though the thought of it was daunting, it also carried a bittersweet promise of freedom.

Years of effort and devotion would be discarded, left behind like relics of a life you no longer wanted. But there was still so much ahead of you – a chance to rediscover who you were, to seek experiences that might lead you closer to the version of yourself you once dreamed of becoming.

Heeseung had shown you that in such a short time.

And there he was again, invading your mind without warning, his presence haunting you in ways you couldn’t shake. You still feared that you might not be able to untangle your motives, whether they were born from the rage of betrayal and the years wasted on Brendon or from the fleeting warmth Heeseung had offered you with such tenderness and sincerity.

It felt good to be wanted, cherished even, but a painful truth gnawed at the edges of your resolve: you couldn’t just leap from one branch to another. It was your life, not Brendon’s, not Heeseung’s. Yours.

In the bittersweet goodbye that had left a knot in your throat and tears threatening to spill, Heeseung had told you he would wait, that there was something he felt for you that went beyond how your relationship had begun, tangled in raw desire and masked in the shadow of infidelity.

But no matter how grateful you were for him, you knew there was a path you had to walk alone first.

It was with that conviction, and Yunjin’s steady hand gripping yours, that you signed the divorce papers the following week after an argument tinged with sorrow, regret and truths being yelled out.

None of the words Brendon said to you would be forgotten. The contempt, the look of disgust, the bitterness as he harshly verbalized that you were never good enough for him. Yet, you would keep them in a special box, as a poignant reminder that you went through the worst, that you overcame the heaviest moment of your life.

You wouldn’t forget the hatred he made you feel for yourself, because it was through it that you allowed yourself to start loving you again.

Your chest tightened, anxiety and anticipation intertwining as you faced the blank slate of what came next. You had no idea where this journey would take you – but for the first time in years, it was entirely yours.

A first date.

You vaguely remembered the last time your body felt this nervous at the thought of meeting someone. It definitely hadn’t been with your now ex-husband, but it had been long enough to leave you sweating under your arms.

After a few encouraging words with Yunjin through your phone and a “good luck” text from your mom – who had been thrilled to hear about your divorce and provided immense physical and emotional support during those first few weeks – you stepped outside your apartment.

You had saved enough money to maintain yourself, still working at the flower shop on weekends as a hobby, after landing a job at a photography studio specializing in model shoots.

It was a passion that had been crushed when your ex made you believe your work was inferior and lame, forcing you to shrink yourself to fit into his impossible standards by leaving your best sides outside.

Now, freedom was your closest companion. You went out for coffee by yourself, enjoyed lunches at pleasant restaurants in your own company, and never felt sad or shaken by being alone – because you were alone, but you didn’t feel lonely.

The autonomy surrounding you was intoxicating, filling you with radiance to push forward with your days, even in the face of difficulties.

A quick greeting with the doorman snapped you back to reality as you headed to the restaurant that would be graced by your presence tonight. The difference this time was that you wouldn’t be dining alone.

The soft door noise indicated your entrance at the place, and instinctively your fierce eyes swerved through the small crowd looking out for someone. The way your heart raced made it feel like it might burst out of your chest the moment you saw his broad, unforgettable shoulders.

“Hee?”

He was standing, his tall figure casually leaning on the countertop chatting with someone at the little open bar in the corner of the restaurant. When he heard your angelic voice calling him, it took him seconds to turn and face you.

“Y/N.”

Your name left his kissable lips like a relieved sigh. And truly, he was relieved. Not that he thought you would stand him up, but after receiving an anonymous message – followed by the revelation that it was from you, a year after everything that had happened between you two –, asking for a meeting, it was hard for him to think positively about anything.

The walk as you approached felt as if the world had blurred into nothingness. The background music softened until it became a distant echo, your eyes fixed on Heeseung like he was the main subject through the lens of your camera, with everything else fading into obscurity.

Even in your daze, you caught the hesitant twitch of his hand, as though he wanted to reach for you but feared you might vanish the moment he did. The thought of him yearning for you as much as you desired him made your heart pound harder, stronger, and the flutter in your stomach increased.

In the past year, your mind often wandered back to how he made you feel in every nuance, from both physically and emotionally. It was undeniable that the heated night you shared replayed in your head like an irresistible, delicious film, tempting your urge to give up completely on your healing plan and run towards him.

But you couldn’t let yourself act in such a way, not when you promised you would be sure of your decisions from now on, and Heeseung was still a fragile subject back then. 

His height difference was striking enough to make you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, a movement that made you feel shyly adorable, and before Heeseung could help himself, a compliment slipped from his lips.

“You look beautiful.”

Your cheeks burned with fluster, unprepared for such an open and genuine remark. But it was Heeseung – effortlessly charming, naturally disarming. “Thank you,” you muttered, glancing down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “You look amazing, as always.”

Your compliment wasn’t just polite – he truly did look gorgeous. He looked delectable, dressed in casual all-black attire. His button-up shirt was left slightly undone, teasing you with a glimpse of his sun-kissed chest adorned with a golden chain that only added to his allure.

And then there was his brand new haircut. Heeseung had gone for an undercut, a style that veered away from his usual office persona but perfectly captured his seductive, magnetic charm. At least to you, it worked far too well.

On the other hand, Heeseung had to actively remind himself of how to keep air in and out of his lungs, otherwise he would pass out before your alluring, enticing, beautiful, provocative, goddess-like, unreal figure.

You had changed a lot, for better; not that you were anything other than stunning and attractive before, but you now carried your presence with confidence, you had a special glow that shone brighter than any chandelier in that fancy dinner place, enough to make Heeseung struggle to keep his cool, relaxed demeanor.

He could feel his self-control faltering, slipping through his fingers like sand, utterly unable to think straight as you quietly, yet intensely analyzed his features with your pretty eyes. 

“I reserved a table for us,” he managed to voice out, although it sounded slightly hushed. 

You giggled with his unexpected nervous behavior, clutching your bag strap as you nodded. “Bet you did.”

And with that, Heeseung guided you towards the mentioned table, placed far enough from the general crowd to grant you both a bit of privacy, with his hand touching your lower back. The area heated enough to leave you tense, yet thrilled with the fact that the atmosphere was slowly loosening. 

The conversation that followed felt awkward at first – unsurprisingly, considering your last encounter had been chaotic, brimmed with lust, guilt, and anger over circumstances neither of you could fully control. And, of course, it had all unfolded under the veil of cheating.

But as the initial tension began to dissipate, you found the exchange becoming more fluid. Heeseung’s responses gradually eased your nerves, just as your candidness gave him obvious clues about your intentions.

He admitted he wasn’t seeing anyone. In fact, since your last encounter, he had gone on a handful of dates, none of which, he confessed with a shy chuckle, had left him remotely satisfied. This revelation only came after he relaxed enough to let it slip, his words hesitant yet genuine.

If you had to describe him in one word, it would be anxious. And he was, in fact, very anxious about the outcome of the night, about the new details of your life, about what might unfold beyond this dinner.

There was a distinct tension lingering in the air between you, a silent but undeniable pull. It was as if the thought of your lips attaching together was a shared, unspoken desire – loud enough to keep ringing in your minds, connected by the lustful want of being each other’s.

It made its way subtly through the playful banter, through your soft laughter over his silly jokes, and mostly, through the fleeting touches on your shoulders and thighs.

“Y’know, after the whole thing we did, I was afraid I might back out with the divorce,” you blurted suddenly, after relaxing on the small couch they used as seats for that table.

Heeseung was sitting on your side, after you asked him to do so, instead of taking the seat in front of you. The minimal seconds with him were enough to make you crave more – Heeseung’s natural effect on you –, and you were glad he embarked on your request, even placing his arm on the back of your headset. 

This was the first time you mentioned the occurrence, though.

Heeseung wasn’t sure about it, but throughout the night he eventually figured out there was no way you would be acting this happy and sincere, beaming with your achievements and living an apparent good life, if you were still with that jerk.

Either way, hearing you speak brought the weight of reality – the weight that you were finally away from that shitty man, and even if it sparked a small flame of hope that maybe you might let him care for you the way he had wanted, his relief was already established by knowing you were no longer trapped in a burden relationship that aimed to destroy your beautiful soul.

He sipped on his drink before muttering, eyes never once glancing away from yours. You felt seen. 

“And what made you keep with it?” 

For a moment, a brief feeling of embarrassment flushed through you, although you didn’t let it take over your following response, sounding firm and, somehow, determined. 

“You.”

After you answered with such a soft tone, you tracked the movement of Heeseung’s Adam’s apple moving as he gulped, but he didn’t show any signal of hesitation when he smirked and leaned slightly forward as his brightened gaze wandered through your face, deliberately taking in your beautiful, serene expression.

He was offering you such a breathtaking visage, his demeanor finally at ease, yet magnetically pulling you to react to an unspokenly demand.

His lips were covered with a layer of his drink from the last sip, gleaming under the dim light that hovered you both, taunting your need of having them pressed on yours. His iris slightly dilated as they followed the movements of your eyelashes fluttering open and close in a slow dance, just to drift back to your lipstick colored lips, as if silently asking you for a kiss.

As if automatically, your faces began to slowly lean closer, breaths blending together with a mix of alcohol from your side and a strawberry flavor from Heesegun’s. 

But just as quickly as the atmosphere shifted into something more charged, it disappeared, as a waiter suddenly appeared to serve the dessert you had ordered. Embarrassed, you both pulled back briefly, sharing a subtle laugh and looked up to acknowledge the waiter, but Heeseung immediately cut in.

“Thank–”

“That can’t be real.”

A sharp pang in your stomach, your heart racing, and your throat immediately drying out. These were the initial reactions, before your hands began to tremble and a rush of heat spread through your body, making you feel utterly reactive.

“Brendon?” You whispered, disbelief making your voice shake as you processed that, after a year, you were seeing him during a sweet evening with Heeseung.

You had done everything to avoid him, taking every precaution to keep him out of your life,  even deleting your social media, afraid of what he might do. There had never been a physical threat, but after the breakup, you feared he might become volatile, wanting to take his anger out on you.

Thankfully, none of your friends had ever known about him, and you had never bothered to find out about him either.

But now, here he was, standing right in front of you two, his expression in complete disdain, his eyes seething with fury.

“You piece of shit,” was the first thing he spat out, as he saw the situation unfold – his ex-wife, now with what he considered his former friend. Betrayal.

You didn’t even notice how tightly he gripped the metal tray at his side. You also didn’t realize that Heeseung, who had been sitting at the edge of the couch, had already risen to his feet, his hands clenched into fists, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burning with rage.

He was ready to strike.

“So, it was for him that you left me, you whore?”

He barely managed to finish the slur because Heeseung moved too quickly. The collective gasp from the surrounding people was what made you realize exactly what had just happened.

You saw Heeseung throw a powerful punch, landing accurately on Brendon's face. Brendon staggered back, dropping the metal tray before quickly retaliating with a weak jab to Heeseung’s cheek.

Heeseung’s expression hardened after a stunned moment in place, processing the impact that got the area tingling, but the subsequent pain was far from being his main concern.

He smirked dryly and then grabbed Brendon by the shoulders to shove him back with force, sending him crashing into a nearby chair. Brendon struggled to regain his footing, but Heeseung advanced, his eyes burning with rage, and with a swift move, he knocked Brendon to the ground with another punch, leaving him unable to fight back.

The men around you quickly rushed in, trying to break up the fight. But you didn’t care about them, you shoved anyone who tried to intervene, the ones attempting to cling to Heeseung, trying to drag him back, or at least seeking comfort in the chaos that was unraveling within you.

“Hee–”

Your weak, tearful voice was cut off. Heeseung instinctively wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace, not even realizing what he was doing as he pointed a finger at Brendon, who had managed to get back on his feet with help from the others.

“Shut the fuck up before you say a word about Y/N, you piece of shit,” he growled, his vision distorted by the boiling rage in his chest. He had been waiting for this moment from the very beginning, the moment to unleash all his frustration, all the hatred he had toward that man. “You’re useless. A worthless bastard who couldn’t recognize the fucking queen you had in your life.”

Heeseung’s large hands tightened around your waist, almost unconsciously, his chest rising and falling rapidly against your face as it pressed into him. Tears slowly started to coat your cheeks, your trembling body finding support in Heeseung’s tensed one.

“I hope you fucking burn in hell and get torn apart in the worst way. You don’t deserve a single ounce of the love Y/N gave you, and you had the fucking audacity to cheat on her.”

Brendon spat out blood, his lip split from Heeseung’s earlier punch. He smirked sarcastically, looking around the crowd that watched the scene.

“She cheated on me too,” he muttered, his voice weak but laced with venom.

Heeseung scoffed, almost rolling his eyes and nearly advancing on Brendon again; you felt the sudden attempt that immediately stopped when you whispered a quiet, hurtful “No…” 

You looked up, your eyes glossy with tears, finding Heeseung’s now worried ones. He softened before your pouty, scared expression.

He caressed your face tenderly, holding you closer as a way to keep you under his protection, although he knew Brendon wouldn’t have the guts to try anything else. After, he drove his attention back to the asshole standing weakly in front of him. 

“You didn’t even have the decency to give her the bare minimum, you worthless cunt,” he spat, words full of rage. “Let alone decent fucking sex. Of course she would cheat on you.”

That triggered a jolt from Brendon to charge at Heeseung, but it was quickly stopped by those holding him back, his ego riled up by the insult.

Heeseung let out a humorless laugh. “She searched out for someone who could give her what she truly deserves,” he said, his gaze shifting to you. His expression softened into a gentle smile, one that was genuine but sharp in contrast to the situation. “And if she'll allow me, I’ll keep being that man for her.”

Your eyes widened at his abrupt and sincere confession. Heeseung didn’t expect a response, honestly, so he turned his attention back to Brendon, his warning clear in every word.

“Get near her again, and I’ll make sure there’s no one around to stop you from getting your ass kicked, you little shit.”

He began pulling you towards the exit of the restaurant, but as he passed Brendon, he leaned in close to murmur just loud enough for him to hear.

“Just so you know, she cheated on you long after you did… And, oh, I’m sure you don’t know that, but she looks fucking gorgeous when she's squirting.”

Until you settled into the passenger seat of Heeseung’s car, everything felt like a blur, robbing you of the awareness to even notice he had paid for dinner before driving off. His voice had broken through just once, a soft “Are you okay?” before he retreated into an oppressive silence.

At first, you welcomed the break from words, needing time to process the storm of emotions swirling inside you. There was anger, because Brendon had crashed your date. Sadness, for having to relive that chapter of your life all over again. Gratitude, since Heeseung had defended you without hesitation. And then... there was desire, because he had looked absurdly damn good while doing it.

God dammit, you cursed silently in your head, shrinking into your seat and glancing away from Heeseung. You felt like a teenager stealing glances at a crush and pretending you weren’t staring when caught.

Worse, you felt like a dog in heat, your thoughts obsessing over how ridiculously attractive he was. His clenched jaw, hands tightening and relaxing on the steering wheel in an effort to calm himself, the slight cut on his lip, and the faint bruise forming on his cheek – likely from a ring Brendon had been wearing – all combined to give him an effortlessly rugged, devastating appeal.

The wound wasn’t deep, nothing to be overly concerned about, but it added an edge to his already striking features. You knew you would take care of it the moment you got to his apartment, but until then, you had to deal with the mixture of lust and a bunch of other things bubbling in your core.

Heeseung, however, was a bit different from you.

Seeing you so broken and tearful had hit him like a bullet to the chest. He never wanted the night to end like this, but there was no regret in the brutal way he had taken out his frustration on Brendon.

Heeseung’s mind raced, tangled with worry and anticipation over how you would react once the adrenaline wore off and you were in a comfortable space to properly talk things through.

He couldn’t get a read on you – not only because his eyes were mostly fixed on the road, but because you kept stealing glances at him and quickly looking away whenever he dared to glance back. Your behavior gave him no clear hint of what was truly going through your mind.

A flicker of anxiety sparked within him. Maybe you were nervous – possibly even considering ditching him altogether and ending whatever it was between you before it could truly begin. The mere thought gnawed at him, amplifying his own anxiety.

The fact that you had suggested going to his apartment instead of your own had caught him off guard. It was enough to confuse him even more, given the contrast with your otherwise unreadable demeanor.

Still, he opted to keep the quietness over the air, since he needed a time to think deeply about his actions. 

He acted out of impulse, for sure, but he wanted to make sure you understood he had absolutely no regrets and he would do it again, and again, and again.

To protect your integrity, he would settle a war if necessary. 

The moment you two reached the place you had visited once before, a sense of an odd nostalgia crept up your spine. Without even realizing it, you were both walking towards the elevator directed to Heeseung’s apartment’s floor. 

Your eyes were glued on your feet as a way to hide your fluster, struggling to fight the urge of jumping into that handsome man standing on your side. Your head was spinning with the most lascivious, filthy thoughts about how you would kneel right at that moment and give Heeseung the head of his life in order to pay back his earlier demeanor.

So. Fucking. Hot.

And contrastingly enough, there was Heeseung, frustrated with himself for making you witness such violent acts. 

He leaned his back and head against the cold metal walls of the elevator, eyes closing as a shaky breath escaped his lips. After a long moment, he finally spoke, carrying off a guilt you didn’t understand at first.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that,” he said, his voice gentle, yet filled with regret. You turned to face him, catching the movement of his beautiful neck exposed for you. You gulped. “I’m sorry you had to witness all of that. And I’m sorry for being a bit of a dick at the end... I got carried away.” He then opened his eyes to look at you, his expression almost vulnerable, his cheeks with a faint blush exposing his embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to objectify y–”

Before he could finish, you cut him off, practically throwing yourself into his body to attach your mouths together. Your lips collided with his bruised ones in a kiss that tasted of longing, and something metallic, like blood, and your fingers crawled their way towards his nape. 

Heeseung let out a pained groan, but didn’t stop you at all. Actually, he held you by the waist to press your chest on his torso. 

However, you immediately pulled back, your eyes wide with worry as your hands held his face delicately. 

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Hee…” you gasped, looking at him in alarm.

He chuckled, the sound deep, sensual, and made your heart flutter despite your current state of concern.

“You're good,” he said, shaking his head slightly with a teasing grin adorning his features. He didn’t care about any pain if that meant having your tongue swirling with his in that addictive motion he once got to try. 

With a tilt of head, he murmured. “Come here, mhm?”

“But your lip–” you tried to counter his words, but Heeseung’s hands seemed unwilling to let you go so easily.

“Shh,” he shushed softly, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. “I heard kisses heal wounds.”

A giggle escaped you, light and fleeting, before it melted into the moment, swept away by the kiss that happened subsequently. It began slowly, unhurried, as if both of you were savoring every second together.

His lips moved against yours with a sensual, deliberate rhythm, one that carried not just desire but something deeper – affection, yearning, a tenderness that spoke volumes.

It was as if Heeseung feared breaking you with his touch, or perhaps losing you altogether. You could feel it in the way his hands cradled your face, in the way his thumbs brushed softly against your skin. And you, in return, clung to him like he was your lifeline, your own quiet fear mirrored in the way your fingers twisted in his hair, anchoring yourself to him.

The metallic tang of blood on his lips barely registered; it was overshadowed by the warmth and electricity of the moment. His tongue traced the shape of your lips, a gentle request you didn’t hesitate to grant, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

His tongue caressed yours with a languid, intoxicating ease, exploring, coaxing, as if he wanted to memorize the taste of you.

Your breath hitched, heart racing in a chaotic rhythm that matched the way his hand slid down your side, fingers possessively holding your waist, as the air grew heavier within each passing second. You wondered for a moment when would the elevator stop, barely noticing the opened door. 

Heeseung broke the kiss briefly and realized the open door, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and shallow as it mingled with your own.

“Inside,” he rasped simply, tone dropping an octave, thick with desire that dripped from his beautiful swollen lips. 

You nodded, unaware of what exactly he meant, leaving the mission of being guided completely at his hands as you pulled him back into another kiss, this time urgent and rushed. 

Heeseung frowned and moaned against your mouth, the collision of his bruised area stirring his thristness, awakening his most profound hunger for you; elicited an immediate reaction that got him stumbling with his own legs as you pushed him into his apartment.

A fleeting moment of clarity pierced through the haze in your mind as Heeseung groaned in pain once again, this time caused by your teeth accidentally grazing his injured lip in the heat of the moment.

“Hee–” you murmured, trying to pull back from the kiss, but he didn’t let you go easily. Only when you gently pushed against his chest did he finally retract, his dark eyes clouded with lust as they bore into yours.

“Let me take care of this first, please?” You whispered, your voice tinged with a teasing whine, paired with the kind of faux-innocent eyes that made him melt on the spot.

His firm resolve faltered instantly, and his temptation only seemed to deepen because of that very expression.

With a faint smirk, Heeseung pressed one last lingering kiss to your lips before stepping away. He disappeared into the bathroom to grab a first-aid kit, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the living room with your heart still hammering.

He wasn’t gone for long, but by the time he returned, you had already settled yourself on the sofa. Without a word, he joined you, sitting close by as you carefully tended to his wound.

A sharp hiss escaped his lips as the antiseptic made contact, and you couldn’t help but smile faintly, murmuring a soft apology.

His gaze never wavered from you, watching with an almost disarming tenderness, his large hand resting casually on your thigh as if to ground himself.

And when you finished, you lingered, your eyes tracing his features. Damn it, how did this man manage to look impossibly hotter even when roughed up?

“Stop looking at me with those eyes,” Heeseung broke the silence, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl.

Your gaze, which had shamelessly held contact on his lips – not because of the injury, but because you craved them – snapped up to meet him properly.

“What eyes?” you challenged softly, your voice laced with subtle mischief that matched nothing with your small pout and frown. 

Heeseung’s hand shifted from your thigh to your jaw, his touch firm and gentle as he tilted your face closer to his.

“Like you want me to fuck you,” he murmured, his words hitting like a jolt of euphoria. 

A sly smile crept onto your lips, your eyelids growing heavier as the air between you thickened with tension. “You know that I do,” you replied, biting your bottom lip as your fingers traced a slow, invisible pattern over his chest.

A thought crossed your mind, bold and unbidden, and you let it spill.

“Y’know, last time I came to your apartment…”

“Yeah?” Heeseung prompted, his voice soft but loaded, his hands effortlessly guiding you to settle in his lap. You obliged with a grace that didn’t break the magnetic pull of your eyes locked on his, though they flickered occasionally to his kiss-bruised lips.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Hee.”

His lips curved into a soft smile, relief flickering across his features as your words unintentionally reassured him in ways you couldn’t have known he needed. His hands traced a comforting path along your hips, keeping you steady in his lap.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.”

The term of endearment may have been simple to anyone else, but to you, it meant so much more. It sent your heart stumbling over its rhythm, your body instinctively leaning closer to his warmth. It made your breath hitch, especially when he leaned in as well, his words brushing against your lips like a gentle breeze.

“Let me remind you what you deserve,” his tone was intoxicatingly soft yet laced with a darker edge that tempted you to fall head-first into it. “How does that sound?”

Your lips quirked into a smirk as you cupped his face with deliberate tenderness, careful to avoid hurting him further.

“I know what I deserve, Hee,” you shot back, your voice daring as you teased his lips with a featherlight graze of your own. “And I also know what I want.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he teetered on the edge of self-control, your provocations pushing him closer to the brink. But he played along, matching your game, because he loved your game.

“And what do you want, darling?” He asked back, a question that was dripping with anticipation.

Your eyes softened briefly with a mix of affection and unrelenting desire before you let the fire in your gaze take over.

“More.”

[sleepyhoon]

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.

✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.

Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

—

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.

You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.

You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Heeseung.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

[caparrucia]

Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.

Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.

And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"

But like.

If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.

So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.

There is no nuance to this.

A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.

That's it.

That's all.

"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.

"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.

"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.

"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.

"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.

But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.

"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.

[fear-is-truth]

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐆 … rodrick heffley — loser!bf headcanons

tags — fem!reader﹒sfw + nsfw﹒headcanons

loser bf!rodrick, who makes a huge show of pda whenever his brother is around. he’ll sling his arm around your shoulder and be like, “yeah, greg. my girlfriend. isn’t she hot?” greg is still fully convinced rodrick’s paying you to be his fake girlfriend, though he has no idea where he’s got the money.

loser bf!rodrick, who lets you sit in on band practice and tries so hard to keep it together, but the second his bandmates start flirting with you, he completely falls apart. his drumming gets so off-tempo that they have to stop and start over.

loser bf!rodrick, who lent you his algebra textbook and completely forgot he’d been doodling your name with his last name all over the margins. when you handed it back, smirking, he looked like he wanted to die.

loser bf!rodrick, whose idea of a date is a night drive to the gas station, where you both load up on slushies and hot dogs. you sit in the parking lot and steal bites off each other’s food (even though you have the same toppings)

loser bf!rodrick, who awkwardly asked his mom to use the “nice-smelling” laundry detergent on his shirts because he knows you like to steal them after having sex and he doesn’t want you thinking he’s gross.

loser bf!rodrick, whose mom acts like you’re already part of the family, offering you snacks and calling you “sweetie” every time you visit. she loves to (unintentionally) embarrassing her eldest son by showing you all of his baby pictures. all the while rodrick hides in the basement.

loser bf!rodrick, whose dad corners you during family dinners and awkwardly tries to sell you on how “rodrick is really a fine young man, despite, uh… some quirks.” you just nod politely while rodrick sits there, sinking into his chair with a beet-red face.

loser bf!rodrick, whose bandmates are constantly making moves on you, asking if you “need anything” during practice or offering to carry your stuff. rodrick will get so pissed that he threatens to kick them out of the band. you think it’s hilarious how defensive he gets.

loser bf!rodrick, who always gives you the front seat in his van, no questions asked. greg has to squish in the back with the instruments, too bad lol.

loser bf!rodrick, who pretends to be terrible at eyeliner just so you’ll do it for him. in return, he paints your nails—or you can also paint his (in exclusively black).

loser bf!rodrick, who acts reluctant whenever you drag him into photobooths at the mall. the two of you end up making the dumbest faces before you lean in and kiss him right on the mouth… with tongue.

loser bf!rodrick, who lets you doodle on his arm with a sharpie, and he refuses to wash them off. they stay there until they fade completely.

loser bf!rodrick, who finally starts wearing deodorant consistently because of you. it’s not even something you asked him to do—he just noticed you sniffing his shirts a little more critically and panicked. now, he’s always freshly applied before seeing you.

loser bf!rodrick, who gets hard every time you kiss him.

loser bf!rodrick, who tries his best to keep his room somewhat presentable whenever you come over. he knows it’s still a fucking disaster by normal standards, but for rodrick, clearing a path to the bed is a grand romantic gesture.

loser bf!rodrick, who’s obsessed so with seeing your hickeys on him. he never bothers to hide them—in fact, he wears them like badges lol.

loser bf!rodrick, who almost accidentally used the wrong side of the condom when you had sex for the first time.

loser bf!rodrick, who absolutely melts when you tug on his hair during sex. he didn’t even realise he had a thing for it until the first time you did it. now, he practically begs for it without using words, tilting his head back and grinning like a total idiot whenever your fingers get close.

loser bf!rodrick, who keeps every random thing you’ve ever given him — notes you’ve passed to him in class, concert tickets, even candy wrappers.

loser bf!rodrick, who hates being bossed around but will do anything you ask, especially if it involves you kissing his cheek or ruffling his hair in thanks. he’s so whipped and everyone knows it.

loser bf!rodrick, who brags to greg about how sexy and smart and pretty you are, just to rub it in, but secretly feels like he doesn’t deserve you. he gets this dumb, soft look on his face whenever you’re around, like he still can’t believe you chose him.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[mywritersmind]

CURB FLIRTING - LN4

summary : In which Lando finds a girl crying on the side of the road and decides to help her a bit.

listen up : this is the cutest thing i’ve ever written. no pt.2‼️

word count : 1438

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Tears stream down my face, I try to control my breathing but I'm still in shock. Even though I'm sobbing, I want to laugh.

I’m sitting on a curb outside of a club, it’s gross and there’s cigarette butts by my feet. I can only smell alcohol and the scent of my vanilla perfume.

I want to rip it off my body. I try to take a deep breath but my chest hurts and I start coughing. People around me ask if I'm okay but when I nod they leave.

Until a man’s shoes appear in front of me, “Are you alright?” I look up, breathing heavily still before nodding and looking back down at his shoes. I like them.

He sits next to me, “You sure?” He has an accent. British, I think.

“No.” I laugh as he cracks a smile.

“I’m Lando.” He holds out his hand for me to shake, so I do. His ring is cold against my burning skin. When I meet his eyes again, I realize they’re green and unfairly stunning.

In fact, his whole face is stunning. He’s got curly hair, dark and mullet-ish, his clothes are light and his jewelry is nice.

“I’m Y/n.” I sniffle, wiping a tear from my face, “I like your shoes.”

He smiles again, “Thank you. I like your dress.” I glance down to my bare legs, hot and uncomfortable with the icy air. He seems to notice my body language and shrugs off his jacket, laying it over my legs.

I frown, crying more, “Hey- I didn’t mean to make it worse.” He looks genuinely worried.

“You didn’t. I’m just- Thank you.” He nods, “I’m kinda embarrassed.”

“No need. Plenty of strangers have seen me cry.” He shrugs, eyeing my hair and earrings, “You don’t need to worry though, you’re a pretty crier.”

I let out a laugh, something I haven’t done for a few hours, “I doubt you aren’t.” His presence is oddly comforting yet also awkward because I was bawling in front of him.

His smile is kind and soft while his body looks sharp and hard. “You flatter me, Y/n.” I like the way he says my name. But that could just be because of my tears.

“What’s your deal, Mr. Lando no last name?” My eyes are still wet but my tears are no longer falling, “Are those your friends?”

We both look over to the group on the other side of the road, three men staring. Lando eyes them but quickly looks back at me, “Uh, yeah.”

“Do they think a twenty four year old woman is going to hurt you?” I look at them again, “Because they sure are protective.”

He laughs, “Protective is a good word for it. Where are your friends?” This makes me frown and he sees it instantly, “Are you visiting Monaco?”

I nod, “Yeah. Are you?”

He shakes his head, “I live here.” My eyes instinctively widen at this. He looks young. I mean, he could be studying here I guess but still.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty five.” This makes my brows pull together, he laughs at this.

“Are you… rich?” I whisper it as if it’s illegal.

He leans it a bit close, “Sort of.”

I hum, “How…?”

“I’ll tell you if you come and sit in my car with me.” I raise a brow at this, crossing my arms, “I promise it’s just because I'm worried you’re gonna catch a cold.” I look at him skeptically too, “You can hold my keys if it makes you feel better.”

I stand, holding his jacket close to me as he drops his keys into my hand. I stare down at them, blink. “A McLaren?” I roll my eyes.

“An eye roll is not the usual reaction I get for that!” He starts walking and I follow him.

“Oh, so you bring all the girls you find crying in the street into your car?” He eyes me, a slight smirk on his face.

“Only the pretty ones.”

I roll my eyes, “You’re going to let a stranger take the keys to your McLaren?” He just shrugs.

“I know your name. You know mine.”

He lets me sit in the driver's seat, he turns the car on and Mamma Mia starts blasting. “Shit.” He mumbles, turning it down quickly as I giggle.

“A musical fan…?” His face is serious and definitely embarrassed. I can’t help but laugh more, “Okay, Okay. How are you, Mr. very mysterious Lando no last name, rich?”

He stretches his arms up, grinning but staying silent. Oh god. He’s fit as hell.

“Oh no.” I feel doom approaching me.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t tell me you’re a footballer.”

He looks horrified, “An american footballer?” I did forget about that one little difference between us. “Why would I be an American footballer?”

“Well you’re-” He raises a brow as I groan, “You clearly work out.” He laughs at me. “Lando! I’m serious, you’re an athlete aren’t you? Oh god I don’t want to know. Do you play soccer? You’ve got the height for it.”

His jaw is dropped at this point, “Calling me hot then calling me short is insane!”

“I did not say, ‘hot’!” I scoff, turning towards him, “Tell me what you really do then. Are you in the Mafia?”

He sighs, leaning his head against the glass of his car. I hadn't realized before, but I'm much more comfortable here. Well, I suppose a McLaren has got to be more comfortable than a street corner.

It’s quieter and definitely warmer. Plus, I do feel safe with Lando which is a bit odd because I just met the guy.

“I’m a formula 1 driver.”

Oh?

“Oh.” I nod. I don’t know anything about motorsport so I'm a bit lost, but I guess I got my answer, “So you drive cars?”

He looks happy at my answer, his smile making my cheeks heat, “Yeah… Yeah I drive cars.”

Lando Norris.

An interesting name for an interesting man. We stay in his car for another… hour? I don’t know. I lose track of time when Lando starts telling me about everywhere he’s traveled.

He lets me rant or stay silent, something I've been waiting for all night. Or maybe all my life.

He leaves me for five minutes alone, in which I peek around his car, finding absolutely nothing but a golf ball and a bag of chips. He comes back with a smile on his face and an ask.

I move to the passenger seat, saying hi to his friends. He said that he wanted me to feel safe and after the conversation with his friends, I really do. I don’t think I've ever laughed harder at a man’s friend group.

He plays ‘Thank you for the music’ on low while I look out the window, my hair blowing in the wind.

“Hey uh-” he clears his throat, “Could I get your number? Just to check in tomorrow.” I bite my lip as he hands me his phone, smiling to myself as I type in my number.

“Dont abuse it.” I joke as he taps his finger against the wheel.

He's grinning again, “Can’t promise anything.”

I sigh, watching the city pass by me, some of the boats on the water quiet and some bright and loud. I like it here. Even if me crying had to get me in such a good mood.

“Thanks for driving me.”

“Of course, I hope to do it again, one day.”

“You know we're probably not going to see eachother again, right?” I see the corner of his mouth quirk downwards, “I’m going home tomorrow.”

“And I have access to private planes.” He shrugs as I scoff.

“Lando. I just met you. What if I was some crazy stalker?” Does this man not know stranger danger?

He eyes me, “Well, are you?”

“No…”

“So,” he glances at me, a curl falling into his face, “I'll see you soon.”

Sadly, my hotel isn’t far and when he pulls up to the front, I get an odd sensation of sadness washing over me. “Want me to walk you up?”

I shake my head, “You’ve done enough for me.” I lean over the middle console and press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Have a good night, Lando.”

“You too, Y/n.” I grab my bag, and slip out the expensive car, looking back one last time to see Lando watching me. His eyes are meaningful and something I have a feeling I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.