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earlysunshines · 1 month ago

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love at your door

minatozaki sana x fem!reader

synopsis: you wake up on the couch to find out that it’s actually not your couch and oh my god why is your hot neighbor sitting across from you watching tv???

warnings: sana is a FLIRT ; reader is a loser ; sana is a losersexual ; pacing is iffy but it’s bc i wanted it to be short ; alcohol ; anything else i didn’t mention ; not proofread so prob spelling errors idk i wrote most on my phone

a/n: based off the time i got drunk and fell asleep in the wrong room… anyways my love for sana will NEVER DIE guess who’s BACK.

you wake up with a groan, face smushed against a cushion that's definitely not yours, and the first thing that hits you—aside from the dull pounding in your head—is the faint sound of a tv playing in the background.

slowly, you crack your eyes open, blinking against the morning light. you finally realize you’re not in your room, and the couch you're sprawled out on… also not yours.

you sit up too quickly and regret it immediately, head spinning, the room around you momentarily blurred. but then it sharpens, and your heart nearly stops when you spot her. sana, your neighbor—your gorgeous, gorgeous neighbor that you’ve been eyeing since you moved in—sitting across from you on her armchair, completely unbothered with her legs tucked underneath her, eyes fixed on the tv but clearly aware you’re awake now.

she’s holding a ceramic mug in one hand, and for some reason, that little detail makes everything so much worse.

because—how did you end up here?

you glance down at yourself and, of course, you’re still in your luigi costume from last night. the tight green tank top clings to you under the denim overalls (one strap purposely loose and falling off your shoulder because you’re desperate for attention in these trying times) which you had decided to wear in some ill-fated attempt to look “hot” while still committing to the theme. you had succeeded, at least you think, judging from the compliments you vaguely remember through the drunken haze of the halloween party. but now, under sana’s gaze, you suddenly feel a lot less confident about it.

“jesus christ,” you mutter, rubbing your temples, trying to piece together what happened. “what—”

“morning sleepy,” sana says, finally looking over at you, lips curling into a small, amused smile. “you came stumbling in after the party. i figured it was safer to let you crash here than send you back to your place like that.”

this has to be a nightmare.

her voice is casual, like this isn’t completely mortifying for you. like this isn’t the exact scenario your sleep-deprived, engineering-major brain has dreamed up in countless fleeting moments when you’ve caught glimpses of her in the hallways (well, you figured you’d be in a less embarassing scene) but now it’s real, and your heart is thudding painfully loud in your chest, and you can’t decide if you want to disappear or if you never want to leave.

(the first option might be the smartest)

you clear your throat, pushing down the urge to bury your face in your hands. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t—i didn’t mean to crash here like that. i must’ve been drunk out of my mind i— fuck, nayeon, that bitch… im sorry my friends they’re—“

“don’t worry about it,” she waves off your apology, taking a sip from her mug, her gaze briefly dipping down to your outfit before flicking back to your face. “i never knew luigi could look this good.” she adds, a smirk playing on her face that renders you weak.

you feel heat rise to your face instantly, and you’re pretty sure it’s not just the aftermath of all the alcohol you consumed last night. her words hang in the air, teasing, but there’s something else in her tone that sends a jolt through you. something that makes you suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you feel, the snug fit of the tank top and the way her eyes had lingered on your exposed skin just for a second.

“uh—” you start, but your voice comes out strained, so you clear your throat again, scrambling for a response. “thank you…?”

she grins at your awkwardness, a soft, almost mischievous smile that only adds to the rising tension in the room. “you’re welcome.”

you force a laugh, trying to ignore the way her gaze makes your skin tingle. “right, well… thanks for, uh, taking care of me. and not letting me do something even more embarrassing.”

“more embarrassing than this?” sana raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your discomfort. she gestures toward your outfit with a nod, and you can’t help but huff a laugh this time, the tension breaking just a little.

“point taken,” you mutter, swinging your legs off the couch to stand, only for a wave of dizziness to hit. sana’s on her feet in a second, steadying you with a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but firm.

“easy,” she murmurs, and you freeze, suddenly way too aware of how close she is. her hand lingers just a second too long, and when she finally lets go, you feel like you can breathe again—but it doesn’t stop your pulse from racing.

her eyes dart down to the base of your neck and the intensity of her gaze is amplified.

“quite a hickey, huh?”

“what?” you had to be drunk drunk. you can’t recall anything about kissing girls, you’re not the type to be like that when under the influence. “that’s— i can’t even remember.”

“had fun, didn’t you?” sana looks back into your eyes, making you shrink despite her smaller frame. you feel sorry, you want to apologize for something you can’t even remember—you have no clue why. she’s just your neighbor. she’s the neighbor down the hall that greeted you kindly when you had moved in to town. the same neighbor that you had to blink multiple times at before realizing she’s not a fairytale princess that’s creeped out of the books.

you glance at the door, needing an escape, even though a very large part of you doesn’t want to leave just yet. but standing in her living room in yesterday’s clothes with your head still buzzing is doing nothing for your nerves.

“i should, uh, probably go,” you say, pointing vaguely toward the door.

sana steps back, giving you space, but her expression shifts into something playful as she watches you. “right. but hey—if you ever need a place to crash again, my couch is always open.”

you blink, not sure if she’s joking or if there’s more to that offer. but before you can overthink it, you nod, mumbling a quick, “thanks, i’ll keep that in mind,” before heading for the door.

and just as you’re about to step out, sana calls after you, her voice teasing, warm. “hey, luigi.”

you pause, turning to look at her.

she leans casually against the doorframe, eyes glinting with that same playfulness, and she gives you a slow, once-over before her lips curve into a smirk. “seriously. never knew luigi could be this hot.”

your heart stutters in your chest, and all you can do is laugh, a nervous, breathless sound, before quickly slipping out the door, your mind buzzing as you head back to your place.

sana always caught your eye, but now… now you’re pretty sure you’re never going to stop thinking about her.

—

the whole day you’re quite literally losing your mind. as soon as you crash onto your bed when you get back home, you cringe at how much of an idiot you are, and at the fact that you accepted every single drink handed to you by nayeon.

and then the next day, you’re still replaying the entire morning in your head—how sana’s words lingered, the way her eyes had flickered over you with that teasing smile. it’s been driving you to distraction all day. you couldn’t focus during class, barely heard a word your professor said, and by the time your last lecture ends, you’ve come to a decision.

you’re going to do something about it.

(you’re undeniably an idiot, but everyone in your circle knows that anyway.)

so after class, you stop by the small flower shop near campus. it’s not something you’d typically do—flowers and chocolate, that’s so cliché, right? but somehow it feels like the right move. sana had caught you completely off guard yesterday, and maybe it’s time you do the same.

you have a small conversation with the florist, who recommends her favorite assortment of tulips. you don’t want to do too much, so you settle with yellow tulips, their petals delicate and bright. simple, but thoughtful (you hope).

next, you pick out a small box of chocolates, nothing fancy but enough to show you’ve put some real thought into this. because somehow, leaving things the way they were feels unfinished.

you can’t possibly just leave it like that, you can’t have the only real memory and meaningful interaction between you and sana consist of you flat out drunk and at a loss for words.

you’re already a loser as it is, and especially when sana is around—whether that’s when you two both end up at the mailbox together, with you losing the ability to speak when she simply smiles and compliments you; and also the simple greetings when you two arrive at around the same time on wednesday’s and thursdays (not that you take note of it—you definitely do).

when you get home, you scribble out a short note on a small card:

hi sana,

thanks for letting me crash on your couch yesterday. i’m really, really sorry.

here’s a little something as a thank you. hope you like tulips.

and chocolate.

– luigi

you read it over twice, fighting the nervous energy bubbling up inside you. it’s playful, casual, but maybe—hopefully—it’ll make her smile. you take the flowers, chocolates, and the note, placing everything neatly in a small brown paper bag before heading down the hall.

when you reach her doorstep, your heart is pounding. you place the bag gently on the ground, adjusting the flowers one last time so they look perfect. then, you take a deep breath and knock, firm but quick, before spinning on your heel and rushing back to your own place.

you barely make it through the door before the nerves fully hit. your heart races, and you lean back against the door, letting out a heavy breath. what if she doesn’t like it? what if it’s too much?

but before your thoughts spiral too far, you hear the faint sound of her door opening down the hall, followed by the quiet shuffle of her picking up the bag.

there’s silence for a bit before you hear the door close again, earning a sigh of relief.

if your friends were to find out literally everything that had happened in the span of less than forty-eight hours, they’d tease you until you had to move out again.

—

the next night, you’re at your desk, buried in the engineering assignment youve been given that same day. something about fluid dynamics, a dense problem set that has you scribbling equations and checking graphs on your laptop. it’s not exactly easy to focus—your mind keeps wandering back to sana, the flowers, the chocolates, and really just everything about her. every time you think about her, a small smile tugs at your lips, despite the headache that’s building from the workload.

then, out of nowhere, you hear a knock at the door.

you blink, glancing at the clock. you’re not expecting anyone, and for a second, you wonder if you imagined it. but when the knock repeats, you push your chair back, setting aside your notes. still a little distracted by the assignment, you take your time getting up, stretching briefly before finally heading to the door.

when you open it, there’s no one there. just silence, the hallway empty. but as you glance down, you spot something on the floor—a folded piece of paper. your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but grin as you bend down to pick it up, already knowing who it’s from.

you unfold the note, and sana’s handwriting greets you:

so, you’re kinda cute even in that luigi costume—i couldn’t stop thinking about you

(i think you’re cute in uniform and not)

though i have to ask—what’s with the hickey? did luigi have a little too much fun? ;)

anyway, i liked the flowers. i liked the chocolates too.

but i think i like the person giving them more.

you should come over in five minutes if you’re not too shy. i mean, you weren’t that shy the other night ;)

– sana <3

your face heats up instantly as you read the hickey line, hand instinctively reaching to touch your neck. there’s no way, right? you don’t remember—

then it hits you. fuck. it wasn’t a hickey. nayeon had bullied you about how you ran into something that night at her party, some broom? wall? maybe momo elbowed you? or something. you’re not the type to just fuck random girls, not when you’re loyal to your neighbor that you utter maybe three sentences a week to if you’re lucky. but the thought of what had happened that night isn’t even important because now your mind’s racing, thinking about how sana’s teasing you. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you all giddy and nervous.

you reread the note, feeling that familiar nervous excitement grow. come over in five minutes if you’re not too shy. your pulse picks up. there’s no way you’re saying no to that.

without bothering to change out of your hoodie and sweats, you grab your keys, locking the door behind you as you head down the hall. your heart’s still racing, and your mind’s swirling with a mix of nerves and anticipation as you stop in front of sana’s door.

when she opens it, she’s standing there with that same playful smirk—sultry, seductive, and somehow so cute at the same time. her eyes gleam like she already knows exactly what’s going through your mind.

"took you long enough," she says, stepping aside to let you in, her voice warm, teasing. "for a second, i thought you’d be too shy to show up."

you huff a laugh, shaking your head as you walk inside, glancing around her apartment again. “i’m– i’m not.” it sounds unconvincing, but the woman in front of you thinks it’s adorable.

she quirks a brow, then smiles at that, closing the door behind you. "good to know." she says, handing you a small glass of wine and suddenly everything is a little bit too intimate.

the two of you end up sitting on her couch, the tv still softly playing in the background like it had been the other morning. the conversation flows easily—there’s that natural comfort between you now, even with the teasing tension that lingers under the surface.

she talks about herself and you talk about yourself too, piquing both your interests. small talk grows into something bigger and you two enjoy the newfound information you’re both learning about each other. you’re breaking the ice, maybe easing into the cold waters in comparison to splashing into it.

“so, about that hickey,” she says, leaning back into the couch, her grin widening as she glances pointedly at your neck. her leg crosses over the other and she holds the glass in her hand near her lips, a small smirk tugging at one corner. “i’m just saying, it looks a little suspicious.”

you roll your eyes, your face heating up again. “it’s not a hickey. i swear.”

“uh-huh,” she teases, clearly not letting it go. “sure it’s not.”

“apparently i hit a broom or wall—something like that.” you shake your head, laughing lightly, but there’s an undeniable pull between you two.

the way she looks at you, the way her smile lingers a little too long, and the way her knee brushes against yours every now and then—you have to hold yourself back from saying and doing a lot of things. it’s in the way her voice lowers when she speaks, soft and reeling.

you spend the next hour just talking, laughing, sharing random stories about classes, her teasing you about your engineering homework, and you teasing her back about her terrible taste in tv shows. every time she smiles or laughs, it feels like a small victory, something you want to keep chasing. and every time you speak her eyes are in deep contact with yours, spiking your heartrate without fail.

eventually, the conversation lulls, and there’s a moment of quiet where she looks at you, her eyes softening just slightly. “you know,” she murmurs, “i’m really glad you came over. this… was nice.”

“yeah,” you say, smiling back, your heart racing in your chest. “it was.”

“i always thought you were really cute,” she says before sipping on her white wine, “but i’m not a chaser.”

“is that right?”

“unless you count me responding to your apology, then yes.”

you laugh, setting the empty glass down.

“well,” you begin, biting your lip. “i like to pursue.”

“quite forward isn’t it?”

“you invited me over for wine, it doesn’t get more forward than what you’ve brought to the table.”

“is that so?” sana hums, tilting her head. she bites the inside of her lip, looking at you with narrowed eyes. “i think it can get more forward.”

your breath hitches in the slightest and you can tell sana’s noticed when she lets out that signature chuckle.

“well, i think it’s time to end the night. you were working on assignments prior, no?” you frown at the suggestion.

“i— yeah, you’re right.”

there’s a knowing smile on her lips, but you ignore it and stand up with her as she walks you to her door.

“i had a great time pretty girl,” she puts her hand on your forearm while saying it, her touch burning your skin. “hopefully we can be much more forward next time.”

you laugh. “i like the sound of that.”

“mhm, goodnight.” she says, grinning at you before meekly closing her door.

you purse your lips before walking down the hall and reaching your door. your hand lingers on the doorknob before you turn it and head in, feeling a sense of regret.

…

sana hears a knock at her door ten minutes later, turning off the sink and drying her hands before walking over to see what’s up.

the moment the door opens and sana sees you standing there, the look on her face is priceless.

“what—” she starts, raising an eyebrow, clearly confused, but before she can finish, you step forward, your hand reaching out to grab her forearm gently. you pull her just a little closer, your heart pounding as you look at her.

“i want to be more forward,” you admit, voice low, the question hanging in the space between you.

for a second, she just stares at you, wide-eyed, before a soft laugh escapes her. she gets it now. “oh, we’re moving pretty fast, aren’t we?” she teases, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “take me out to dinner.”

you grin, and she hesitates for a beat, but then she nods, and it’s enough—enough to send your pulse racing, enough for you to lean in. before you can close the distance, though, her hand comes up, fingers lightly brushing the base of your neck, and you feel her shiver as she touches you.

“you say that like,” you pause, observing the surprise and allure in her features. “like you didn’t eye-fuck me the other night.”

her cheeks flush as her fingers linger on your skin, and you catch the way she bites her lip, trying to hide her own smile. you don’t wait any longer.

you lean in and meet her lips with yours, melting into it just as she does.

it starts soft, just a gentle press of your lips against hers, but it quickly deepens as sana lets out a quiet, surprised sound that turns into something more—something she’s clearly enjoying a little too much. her hand moves to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, and the way she kisses you back sends a thrill through you.

before you know it, she’s dragging you inside, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other guiding you back toward the couch. the door closes behind you, but you barely notice, too focused on the way her lips move against yours.

when you finally pull back for air, she’s breathless, grinning like she’s just won something. “you should’ve been this forward earlier,” she teases, her thumb brushing against the side of your neck.

“yeah?” you ask, a little breathless yourself, but you can’t stop smiling.

“yeah,” she murmurs, eyes flickering down to your lips before she leans in again, kissing you slower this time, savoring it. sana is a great kisser, the type of kisser that leaves you wanting more and more. after a moment, she pulls back, just enough to whisper, “maybe you should stay a little longer.”

you can’t help but laugh softly. “you sure you can handle that?”

“please,” she says, eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous look. “you weren’t that shy the other night.”

“well i was drunk and—“

before you can even finish your response, she’s kissing you again, and this time, you’re more than happy to let her pull you even closer.

#kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader

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nativegirltapes · 18 days ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ when angel visits drew on set, she can't help but get a little flustered seeing him play rafe

warnings: making out + tiny weeny bit of thigh humping 🤒

"i dont know," you sat on drew's lap and rubbed his buzzed head. "i like seeing you all mad and stuff," you felt your cheeks get red at your confession. "it's hot."

"oh," drew raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised at your newly revealed secret. "really?" drew hands found the curve of your ass, giving it a good squeeze. after a long day of drew showing you around set and getting to see him in active work you were needy and down right horny. you didn't realize how sexy drew looked playing a literal killer.

"yeah," you teased, rubbing your long acrylics across his chest. "really." you smirked, giving drew a quick peck. "and what are you gonna do about that?" drew stared at you in awe, waiting to see what your next move would be. the little mustache hairs that he was letting grow out definitely weren't helping your case, you just wanted him between your thighs calling you pretty.

you situated yourself on one of drew's thighs, bringing your hands to his shoulders for balance, before letting them roam while kissing him. he could feel the warmness between your legs growing atop his lap, his hands guided your movements on his thigh, slightly humping his leg while making out with him. "fuck," you moaned out in between breaths.

"you're so pretty baby." drew complimented you while his hands rubbed all along your back. the way his big hands felt caressing your back while kissing him had you much more wet than you'd care to admit. you wouldn't be surprised if there was a stain on drew's khakis through your juicy sweat set.

before you could continue things you heard a knock at to door, to which you quickly jolted off drew's lap, like you would get in trouble for making out with your boyfriend. "drew! filming next scene in 5!" you heard the lady from outside yell.

"fuck." you giggled to yourself. "scared much?" drew teased you, standing up from his spot and coming closer to you to give you a peck on the head. "i'll be back in a bit. finish this later okay?"

#bookshelf #angel!reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey headcanons #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine

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rafecameronssl4t · 10 hours ago

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73 Questions with Vogue || Drew Starkey x fem!reader

Summary: Actress!reader participating in 73 Questions with Vogue and it goes viral!!!

Warnings: fluff!!!

Word count: 1,935

A/n: It's been so long since I've written a Drew fic!!!!!!! Also I got inspired by my previous acc's fic so if it seems familiar to some of you who followed me from there, don't come at me, I loved the idea too much lol. CAN SOMEONE PLS SEND ME REQUESTS FOR DREW FICS???

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

"Hello!" You greet the interviewer with a bright smile, swinging open the door to reveal him and his camera. "Hi, Y/n! Mind if we come in and ask you 73 questions?" he asks, his tone friendly and warm. "Yeah, of course! Come on in," you say, stepping aside and holding the door wide open, gesturing for them to enter as the camera pans through the foyer of your house. The space is beautifully designed, with soft lighting that gives it a cozy, inviting atmosphere.

"Wow, what a gorgeous house you have," the interviewer remarks, his voice filled with genuine awe as his eyes take in the sophisticated yet comfortable décor. "Thank you!" you respond, the compliment warming you as you flash a radiant smile. "Is this your favourite house?" The interviewer asks, already settling into the rhythm of the questions as you lead them down the hallway and into the open-plan living area.

"Yes, it definitely is. It's in my home city, and Charleston means so much to me, just like this house does," you say, your eyes lighting up as you gesture around. The view of the beach through the large windows makes the space feel even more special. "I love the view," the interviewer comments, looking out at the sunset that bathes the room in warm golden light. "The sunset looks amazing from here."

"It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?" you say with a soft chuckle. "I love spending time in this room specifically. It feels like a little sanctuary." You both share a laugh, enjoying the peaceful moment. "What's your morning routine like?" The interviewer asks as the camera follows you through the coastal-themed living room toward the kitchen. You pause for a moment, thinking about your answer.

"I haven't had much of a routine the past few months because of work, but currently, I wake up to a strong cup of coffee and a walk through downtown," you share with a soft smile. "It’s become a little ritual to clear my mind before everything gets too busy." As you stroll through the warm, inviting spaces of your home, the camera captures the personal touches that reflect your personality—a mix of elegance and laid-back comfort.

A question about your career comes next, and you happily share some behind-the-scenes anecdotes from your latest film. "This," you begin, the affection in your tone unmistakable, "is a magnet Sydney gave me when we wrapped filming Immaculate earlier this year." You glance at the picture, a grin spreading across your face. "It’s a photo of the two of us in our nun costumes... let’s just say, not doing very nun-like things." You laugh, the absurdity of the memory still fresh, and hold the magnet up for the camera to focus.

The image shows the two of you mid-laughter, each holding a cigarette with exaggerated defiance, your habits slightly askew, as though caught mid-rebellion. "What's the best compliment you've received?" the interviewer asks, a hint of curiosity in their voice. You pause, your expression thoughtful. "Oh, that's a tough one," you say, your lips curling into a playful smile.

"I think the best compliment I’ve ever gotten was when someone said, 'You're like Meryl Streep… but, you know, with fewer Oscars.’" You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. "It was the kind of backhanded compliment that made me laugh for days." The interviewer laughs along with you. "That’s a good one," they say, clearly entertained. As you make your way towards the outside deck, the interviewer continues with another question. "Texting, calling, or FaceTiming?"

You grin as you lean casually against the railing, looking out at the garden below. "Oh, definitely FaceTiming," you say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I’m terrible at replying to text messages. I’d much rather see people's live reactions, y’know?" A more personal question comes next, and you smile thoughtfully as the interviewer asks, “How do you handle the pressures of fame?”

You nod, taking a moment before responding. "I lean on my family and friends—they keep me grounded. And I remind myself that pressure is a privilege. It means people care about what I do, and that means a lot." Your voice softens as you speak, the sincerity of your words clear as you step into your home office, showcasing the awards and accolades lining the shelves. The conversation turns to your personal life, and a warm, affectionate smile spreads across your face.

"Congratulations on reaching your two-year anniversary with Drew!" The interviewer says with a grin, and you beam in response. "Thank you!" you reply, your eyes sparkling as you think of him. "Drew is incredible. He’s my biggest supporter, my partner in everything, and honestly, just my favourite person. It’s been such a special journey since starting my career, and I’m so grateful to have him by my side."

"What's the key to a successful relationship?" He asks. You pause as you walk through the hallway, your gaze softening as you think. "I think it’s communication and a lot of patience. No relationship is perfect, but being able to talk things through and genuinely listen to each other makes all the difference." You smile, adding, "Oh, and laughter—if you can laugh together, you can get through just about anything."

The sound of the front door creaking open interrupts the moment, and a familiar voice rings out, instantly making your face light up. "Oh, there’s Drew right now!" you say, smiling brightly as you move toward the foyer. The camera follows you, capturing the scene as Drew enters, with Nellie, your cocker spaniel, bounding beside him. "Hey, baby," He greets you as he slips off his sunglasses, pulling you close for a tender kiss

When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he spots the camera. "Oh, 73 Questions with Vogue?" he asks, a playful grin tugging at his lips. You giggle, nodding your head. "I forgot you were doing that today," he chuckles. “Go ahead, continue your interview," he adds with a fond look before walking off with Nellie. As the camera returns to you, you make your way toward the stairs, glancing over your shoulder to find Drew already on the floor, happily playing with Nellie.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, captured by the camera momentarily fixated on the fleeting connection. "What's something people don’t know about you?" the interviewer asks, pulling you back into the conversation. You pause, thinking for a second. "I’m actually allergic to most flowers," you reveal with a sheepish laugh. "Really? I wouldn’t have known," the interviewer responds, clearly surprised. "Oh, absolutely! When we film Outer Banks, they have to shoot around the flowers, or I'd be a sneezing mess," you confess, casually walking backward while maintaining a steady gaze with the camera.

The tour continues through luxurious walk-in closet, filled with designer attire. “What’s your pet peeve?” You laugh, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "Oh, definitely when people chew loudly. It’s like nails on a chalkboard for me. Chase is notorious for doing it on purpose, so I avoid him during my lunch breaks," you add, giggling at the memory. "Where was the best vacation you’ve been taken to?" the interviewer inquires as you step into your shared bedroom with Drew, the ocean stretching out just outside the windows.

"I think I’d have to say Vienna with Drew for my birthday," you say, smiling over your shoulder as you look out at the view. "Hm, I think Charlie, Last Name Wilson," you say with a grin, rifling through the records. "It never gets old, and it’s super catchy." You smile as you pick it out. "Most of you guys would know that this song is also Drew and Austin’s favourite, so we always play it on set," you chuckle.

"Does the rest of the Outer Banks cast like it too?" the interviewer asks, laughing along. "They don’t have much choice," you joke with a grin.

"Is there anything from any set that you've taken home with you?" The interviewer asks eagerly. "The interviewer questions as you giggle, clapping your hands. ""Oh, I love this question!" you exclaim, opening a drawer to reveal a variety of souvenirs. "This is the bag my character 'Whiskey' from Glass Onion owned," you say, showing off the brown frill bag. "And here’s a pack of Italian cigarettes from Immaculate, they’re just props, by the way," you add with a wink.

You pull out a cowboy hat. "This one’s from Tom on the set of Billy the Kid," you explain. "And this," you say with a smile, holding up a ring on a necklace. "This is Rafe's ring, the one he gave my character." "What a beautiful photo of the two of you," the interviewer notes, pointing to the large black-and-white photo of you and Drew at a Vogue photoshoot above your bed.

"It is! That day was actually so special for us. We both got the call saying we’d been cast in our respective roles that we’d been auditioning for," you explain, your face lighting up with nostalgia. The interviewer then asks about Drew’s upcoming movie. "Speaking of which, Drew’s film Queer is coming out very soon. Are you excited to watch it on the big screen?" "Yes, of course!" you say, your voice full of pride.

"I was so incredibly proud of him when he got the role. He was definitely excited too, especially since it’s, you know, the Luca Guadagnino." You chuckle. "I got the privilege to actually be on set for a bit, and it was amazing. Plus, I got to catch up with Daniel," you mention. "It was really nice to see him again." You smile, the pride evident in your expression as you talk about Drew's accomplishments.

The conversation is interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and both you and the interviewer turn your attention toward it. Drew’s head peeks around the corner, his grin lighting up the frame as the camera zooms in on him. "I made some iced teas—yours is half and half," he says casually, stepping into the room with a tray holding two glasses. You can’t help but beam as he hands you your drink. "Aww, thanks, babe," you say gratefully, your fingers brushing his for a brief moment as you take the glass.

Drew hands the other glass to the interviewer, who looks pleasantly surprised. "Wow, thank you, Drew!" he says with a wide smile. "Of course," Drew replies warmly before glancing at you. "Let me know if you need anything else," he says, shooting you a quick wink before stepping out of the room. The camera lingers on him for a beat as he walks away, capturing his effortless charm.

You take a sip of the iced tea, the cool, refreshing taste spreading through you as you let out a content sigh. "Is this something you drink often?" the interviewer asks, clearly curious. You nod enthusiastically. "Oh, absolutely. I like mine half and half, and I drink it like 24/7," you say with a chuckle, the glass still in your hand. The interviewer grins before asking a more personal question. "I can tell Drew is very thoughtful. What’s your favourite trait of his?"

You laugh softly, caught off guard by the difficult question. "You can’t make me choose—I love everything about him!" you say with a playful grin, your tone light but sincere. The interviewer chuckles along with you, clearly charmed by your response. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But if you had to pick just one thing that comes to mind?"

You pause for a moment, your expression softening as you think. "Hmmm," you hum, swirling your iced tea absentmindedly. "I love the little things he does," you begin, your voice warm with affection. "Like how he always remembers my coffee order or when he leaves me little notes when I’m on set. It’s those small, thoughtful moments that really mean the most to me."

The camera captures your tender smile, and the interviewer smiles himself, visibly touched by your response. "That’s so sweet," he says, his tone genuine. "It really is," you smile, a soft, almost bashful grin spreading across your face. "He’s the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for," you say, your tone filled with warmth and sincerity.

The interviewer watches you with an amused smile, clearly endeared by the dreamy, almost schoolgirl-like look on your face as you think about Drew.

The Vogue 73 Questions interview quickly becomes an internet sensation, captivating fans. It was everywhere. Clips of your candid answers and sweet, unscripted moments—especially the one where Drew casually walked in with iced tea—became the ultimate proof of why you were Hollywood’s darling. Within hours of its release, the hashtag #73QuestionsWithY/n trends worldwide.

The comments section was flooded with fans losing their minds over the glimpse into your life. "Can we talk about how Drew KNOWS her iced tea order by heart? If this isn’t relationship goals, I don’t know what is." "Y/n casually being gorgeous, funny, and real in her Charleston dream home? I’m in love." "The way Drew looked at her when he walked in… I CAN’T. He’s so whipped, and I’m here for it."

Memes circulate, celebrating your witty remarks and playful demeanor, while your thoughtful insights and open vulnerability spark heartfelt discussions. The part where Drew sneaks into the interview with iced tea becomes a fan-favourite, with many dubbing it "the cutest boyfriend moment of the year."

“I love how real she is,” one fan tweeted, accompanied by screenshots of your answer about Drew’s little notes and coffee orders. Another post with a screenshot of you laughing at Drew’s confused “Oh, Vogue’s here” reaction read, “You can just tell they’re best friends. I want a love like this.”

The media couldn’t get enough, either. Everyone from gossip sites to prestigious magazines weighed in on how you’d managed to blend the glamour of your career with the warmth of your personality. The buzz reignites interest in your past projects and elevates anticipation for your upcoming ones. Your social media following soars as fans, old and new, praise your ability to remain grounded despite your success.

Meanwhile, Drew’s small but sweet cameo sparks renewed admiration for your relationship, with countless threads and videos dedicated to celebrating your bond. “Y/n and Drew are proof that true love exists,” one viral tweet declares, garnering thousands of likes and retweets. Another fan edits together a montage of your cutest moments from the interview, set to a romantic song, which quickly racks up millions of views.

Drew couldn’t stop teasing you about how viral the iced tea moment had become. “You’re lucky I didn’t walk in shirtless,” he joked one night as you scrolled through TikTok, finding yet another edit of you two. “Please,” you said, giggling, your hand affectionately stroking Nellie, “half the internet would’ve fainted.” “Half?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I think you’re underestimating me, babe.”

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le-monchou · 2 months ago

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kiss me, don't say no (oh) || leona kingscholar

it's been a while since he's felt like this, like a young kid experiencing his first crush. it's definitely not his first, but you're the only one who's given him this feeling in a while, and it's... making him feel things. he's feeling things hard enough that once in while, his hand snakes around your waist, giving it a complementary tug.

he's feeling things hard enough that you appear in his dreams and his daydreams, even in his nightmares. he's feeling things that he's actually doing some over-the-top maintenance of his hair and face and body, in the hopes that he'll smell less like sand and sweat and his nightmares when you lean over to ask him something like you always do, and that maybe you'll notice and ask him what's up in that tone of yours.

and as he combs his hair and braids it, he wonders if you're feeling any percentage of what he is. and he scowls at his own reflection opposite him, because you've never said he wasn't enough. but what if he wasn't? what if there was someone else? what if, what if, what if? leona shuts any and all questions and sighs, putting on his more formal shoes and heading downstairs to find you waiting. the rest of the day goes off without a hitch, and you do compliment the scent, which leaves him feeling giddy and high all the way until lunchtime.

which brings him- and you- to the main event of the day, a special theatre performance where you'd been working behind the scenes with the rest of the pomefiore bookies to create "the best event ever" (your words. not his.). and when you bring him backstage and the lights suddenly shut, and there's a warm glow near the two of you, and you look at his lips and lick your own (out of nervousness? out of lust? he can't tell, despite being able to see in the dark), but leona decides to take the leap (sacrifice the rook to secure the queen and win the match) and lean in anyway, and he can feel your warm breath close to his face.

neither of you move, flinching a little in your own skins as the music for the show starts suddenly.

and that's when he feels lips against his own, fleeting, gentle, but nervous, and leona can't help but grasp you like a man starved for air, large hands cradling your head and supporting your neck as he tilts it upwards and slots it right where he needs it, and when he pulls away for air, he hears you sigh dreamily and feels your hands on his shoulders lazily draped before you lean in again, and luckily, leona kingscholar is a man who doesn't have to be told twice.

word count: 467 words; song: xo (only if you say yes) - enhypen

tags: @aivy-saur, @nemisisnemi, @bunnwich, @glidiaxoxo, @puowei, @vauxxnm, @fungifanart, @aprityormarj

#twst #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona twst

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les4elliewilliams · 3 months ago

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❝SHE’S A MANEATER!❞ – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨.

LOSER!ELLIE ﾒ MEAN!READER

❝OH-OH HERE SHE COMES WATCH OUT, GIRL, SHE’LL CHEW YOU UP!❞

ᝰ.ᐟ ⌞SUMMARY⌝﹕After bumping into you on her first day of college, Ellie spends the entire year captivated by you from a distance. You're everything she could never be—popular, wealthy, and effortlessly alluring, with a perfect, disgustingly rich family to match. Convinced she didn’t stand a chance, Ellie resigns herself to watching from the sidelines. But when her best friend Dina suggests they work at a public pool for the summer, Ellie agrees, hoping to save up some money. What she never expected was to find you there, commanding the space with a magnetic, dangerous charm that pulls her in. Now, Ellie’s summer is about to take a turn she never saw coming, and she’s about to find out just how close she can get to you before it all falls apart.

✶.ᐟ ⌞THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS⌝﹕ approx 12.8k words⨾ cursing⨾ angst⨾ mention of drugs⨾ reader being a bitch for no reason⨾ 18+ CONTENT (porn with plot)⨾ fingering (𝑒!receiving)⨾ tribbing⨾ thigh riding (r!receiving)⨾ coworker!ellie⨾ dom!reader⨾ fem!reader⨾ player!reader x loser!ellie⨾ slapping⨾ jealousy issues⨾ overstimulation⨾ choking kink⨾ use of names (dollface, sweet/pretty girl, baby, babe, slut, etc...)⨾ ‘i love the smiths’ scene⨾ ellie loves spiderman boxers💔⨾ they 69 on a big canvas???⨾ lmk if i missed anything!

.ᐟ.ᐟ ⌞AUTHOR´S NOTE⌝﹕i've decided it's going to be three parts instead :p i also wanted to say thank you for all the support on part one i appreciate it sososo much mwahmwah🫦. proofread by @sapphichotmess!!

#.ᐟ ⌞TAGLIST⌝﹕@pick-me-up-im-scared @rew1nds @aouiaa @satellitespinner @boobdrug @ivying @elliewilliamsbelovedwife @mina-281 @hysteriawillnotsuccumb @chxrryvalxntine @bookpagecandlescent @fionaapplelover2010 @andersonslove @macaroni676 @elliesbabygirl @vampcubus @visupremacysstuff @elssaphica [comment to be added!]

#.ᐟ ⌞CHAPTERS⌝ ↯

˗ˏˋ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ⋆ 𝕥𝕨𝕠 ⋆ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ˎˊ˗

palestine masterpost ⋆ read this ⋆ daily clicks

8th of August.

You and Ellie spent almost every day together, hanging out and spending time together without a care in the world. However, the way you acted when you were around other people, as if you hadn’t been spending time together in private, bothered Ellie. Alone, you were a completely different person—affectionate, clingy, and seemingly unable to keep your hands off her. Logically, she assumed you weren’t exceptionally comfortable showing affection publicly, and she understood that. Still, it stung each time you rejected her, even for something as simple as holding hands in public.

No pet names allowed, no subtle touches, no little gestures of affection—nothing. It hurt Ellie deeply, but she tried to convince herself that it was normal. After all, not everyone was comfortable with PDA, and you had told her that you weren’t ready yet. You had only been together for a few weeks, so it made sense. Every time you pulled away in public, you would notice the change in Ellie’s demeanor, the way she’d go quiet and distant. You’d try to comfort her, soothing her with your words, calling her your girl, and showering her with compliments and affectionate whispers. It worked; it always worked. She’d soften in your arms, her pissy mood disappearing as you reassured her. Ellie couldn’t help it, falling for your charm every damn time.

The auburnette knew that you meant everything you said; she knew you genuinely wanted her just as much as she wanted you. Whenever you had to reassure her, Ellie felt guilty, pushy, and selfish for even bringing it up. She would tell herself that it was okay, that she could wait for you to be ready. After all, it wasn’t a big deal, and who was she to rush you into something you weren’t comfortable with? She could be patient.

Being with you was enough for her. Ellie was so damn grateful to have you by her side. She still couldn’t wrap her head around how she went from admiring you from a distance to being with you every fucking day. She could feel you, touch you, and memorize every inch of your body with the rough, calloused palms of her hands. Her heart would flutter, and the butterflies in her stomach would go wild at every pet name you had for her, every sweet word, every compliment, every touch.

Everything you had to give, she took it all greedily. The sage-eyed girl knew she was lucky as hell to have you, lucky that you finally let her in, let her get to know you. The more she discovered about you, the more she liked you. Each detail that came out about your personality made her want to be around you every second of the day. It was like she was addicted, hooked on every little thing that made you who you are. And she couldn’t get enough, feeling like some sort of lovesick idiot.

So she’d wait as long as it took. It was going to be worth it in the end.

Ellie tried to brush those thoughts aside, but they were like an unwelcome guest in the back of her mind. Now that you were there, in her room, none of those concerns mattered anymore. Instead, she focused on the way your lips pressed against her skin, little smacking sounds filling her ears.

Sweet, damp kisses trailed along Ellie’s jawline as your hand eagerly squeezed the fat of her ass, making her whimper into your mouth. You found it endearing how sensitive and responsive she was to your touch. You could get her dripping wet with no effort at all, and she was so fucking loud and so easy to play with. You loved every second of it.

The sensation of her soft skin under your fingertips, the way she involuntarily arched her back under your touch as you pleasured her just right—it was addictive.

You pushed her back towards the bed, your hands roaming her body hungrily as she stumbled over her sneakers, which lay discarded on the floor. You giggled, lips detaching from her neck just long enough to capture her mouth again. Ellie’s slender fingers tangled in your hair, a smile stretching across her face at your soft laugh.

Your hands remained glued to Ellie’s body, refusing to let go, gently skimming your hands over her waist and sides, your fingertips tracing along her bare skin in a soothing motion. Her body molded effortlessly to yours, every curve and line fitting perfectly against you.

Ellie was convinced you were made for her, crafted together by some higher power. In your arms, she felt like the center of your universe, making her feel special and desired. The cinnamon-haired girl loved being the recipient of your unwavering adoration, a privilege not everyone was fortunate enough to experience. You were everything she could ever want or need, her perfect match in every way.

Ellie’s freckled back sunk into the soft surface of her mattress as you straddled her, claiming your spot on top of her. Her hands ran over your body with an almost desperate touch, as if they had never touched another human being before. She gripped and gently clawed at your flesh, unable to get enough of the feel of you underneath her fingertips, fearing that you might evaporate or disappear into thin air. It was too good to be true. Even she struggled to believe someone like you would sneak around with someone like her.

The kiss became a mess of open mouths and tangled tongues, both of you becoming more and more desperate with each passing second. Finally, you pulled away, both of you panting and out of breath, your lips swollen and sensitive from the never-ending connection. “You sure he won’t be back anytime soon?” you asked, your lips hovering just an inch from hers.

Ellie’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting yours as she took a deep, shaky breath. “Joel’s staying at my uncle’s for dinner,” She reassured, her breathing ragged and uneven and her face flushed as red as a ripened strawberry from the intensity of the kiss.

A subtle, self-satisfied smirk played at the corners of your mouth as you hovered above her, your forearms resting on either side of Ellie’s head. You found yourself entranced by the sunlight pouring in through the windows, casting a warm, golden glow across her face, highlighting all of her best features—everything, basically. The sight of her was like gazing upon a masterpiece, each freckle and sun-kissed spot a deliberate brushstroke that came together to form a breathtaking work of art. Her beauty was nothing short of enchanting, like a Claude Monet painting coming to life before your very eyes, and she wasn’t even aware. No work of art could compare to the beauty of the girl under you.

“So we can be as loud as we want,” You whispered in her ear, the low timber of your voice sending delicious shivers down her spine.

You continued to pepper kisses along her jawline, savoring the unique taste of her skin. You took your time, slowly trailing your lips down her body, determined to give each inch the same amount of attention and love. Ellie let out a small gasp as your mouth tenderly traced across her skin, her fingers gently running through your hair to keep it out of your face, fingers lingering on your scalp. Her thigh pressed between your legs, creating just enough space for her to slide her knee against your center, the contact eliciting a moan of pleasure from you.

Ellie could never put into words how much pride she felt whenever a soft moan escaped your lips. It was as if she had just created a masterpiece, your sounds of pleasure serving as tangible proof that she had done something right. Every mewl and gasp from your lips filled her with a profound sense of satisfaction, like a child finally getting their drawing just right.

“Oooh, I like that,” A soft, raspy chuckle escaped the auburnette’s lips; she glanced up at you, her pupils dilated, and a broad smile spread across her face, the left side of her mouth forming a deep dimple. The sight was both endearing and incredibly attractive, her features a mix of playfulness and undeniable lust as she struggled to maintain her composure. You were getting her so worked up that it was almost laughable.

Your head tilted down as you met her gaze, eyes locked on her watchful, beautiful forest-green irises. “Like what?” you questioned, continuing to press kisses against the soft skin of her chest, right between her breasts. Your brows furrowed with confusion, your mind consumed by her, causing her question to bounce off the walls of your mind, not quite able to make sense of her words.

“The way you sound,” Ellie purred with a soft, appreciative hum, her fingers trailing lazily along your shoulder.

You pulled away for a moment, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you looked down at her, enjoying the way she looked like a complete wreck beneath you. “Yeah?” you sultry whispered, leaning in closer, your breath hot against her lips. “You ready for me, sweet girl?” A stray lock of your hair dangled between you, and she lifted her hand to tuck it gently behind your ear, her touch light as a whisper against your skin. The action was so natural, so casual, yet it was laced with a sense of intimacy and affection that made your stomach churn for a split second.

“Always ready for you,” Ellie uttered, her voice a breathless confession. And she meant it in every possible way. The redhead was always ready, obediently waiting for your gaze like a loyal dog, ready to be whatever you needed her to be at that moment. Whether it was to be your girlfriend or just a plaything to take your frustrations out on, she was there for you, patiently waiting for you to use her.

You pressed a kiss to Ellie’s lips, soft and lingering, before trailing a path back down to her chest. Your mouth found her hardened nipple, and you latched onto it with a hunger that proved to her how much you had been longing for her. Your tongue danced around her areola, lazy circles that made her shiver and sigh. One of your hands wandered to her other breast, kneading it with a firm yet tender grip. Ellie’s whimpers filled the room, each sound a love song that told you exactly how much she needed you. Her back arched, pushing her chest deeper into the palm of your hand, a desperate plea for more. Ellie’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, urging you on.

You switched your attention, your mouth finding her other nipple, lavishing it with the same adoration. “You taste so fucking good,” you murmured against her skin, your voice rough and urgent. She moaned in response, her hips shifting restlessly beneath you, seeking friction, seeking release.

Your hand slid down the moss-eyed girl’s body, fingers dancing across her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She was already trembling, her breath coming in shallow gasps, her eyes locked on yours, darkening with need. The soft palm of your hand cupped her mound, her trimmed, auburn hair tickling your skin. Your index and middle fingers spread her folds, gathering all the slickness you had created and smearing it up to her clit. It twitched at your touch, throbbing like crazy, almost painfully, making Ellie whine.

She was truly mesmerizing in her neediness and desperation for your touch and attention, enjoying every second of your affections. Her body responded to you as if it were made for you alone by the Gods above.

Your teeth gently grazed her nipple as you pushed two fingers inside her, making her gasp louder this time. Ellie’s hips bucked instinctively, craving more, her body reacting to every touch, every sensation you delivered. And she just took it like a good plaything.

“God, you’re so wet,” you groaned against her skin, your voice thick with desire. “So fucking ready for me.”

“Oh… god,” Breathy moans spilled from her lips, ricocheting off the star-filled wallpaper adorning her room.

You released her nipple with a satisfying ‘pop,’ the little bud glistening with spit. Your mouth found her other nipple standing erect and waiting for your attention, looking a little too lonely for your liking. Her breasts fit your palms perfectly, filling your palms just right. You could see her trying to maintain control but her brain shut down, unable to process anything besides your touch.

Ellie’s nipples were always so responsive, hardening instantly under your touch, and you could feel her entire body quivering with need. You teased her relentlessly, feeling her writhe beneath you, each lick and gentle bite sending jolts of pleasure straight to her needy cunt. You loved the way her breath hitched with every pump of your fingers, her back arching slightly, and her hips bucking into your hand. What a fucking sight.

“Oh, so you believe in God now, huh?” You teased her, your fingers increasing the pace of their movements. She pushed her head back into the pillow, wholly lost in the sensations you were creating. Ellie’s eyes squeezed tight, her dilated pupils no longer able to focus as the pleasure consumed her entirely.

You curled your fingers inside her, brushing against that magical spot, and she gasped, her hands clutching the sheets, her knuckles turning white. You could feel her walls tightening, her whole body tensing as her orgasm built ridiculously quickly. Her breathing was ragged and uneven, the sound of her wetness making you feral. “That it? ‘s that the right spot?” you chuckled.

“Hmmphh—not funny,” Ellie weakly protested, but the attempt was feeble, her words faltering as she tried to sound grumpy. In reality, she was a mess, a moaning, beautiful mess that was falling apart at the seams, unable to form coherent thoughts. The type of mess you loved.

“Baby, look at me,” you commanded softly as your fingers picked up speed, curling upwards to hit that sweet spot inside her again. Her walls clamped down, promising to swallow your digits greedily.

Ellie’s green eyes fluttered open, understanding the silent threat, knowing damn well that if she didn’t, you wouldn’t let her finish and milk your fingers like she had been begging to do all day. Bugging you at work, begging for a quickie in the restroom like usual. You had denied her all day, leaving her desperate and needy.

But there was a reason behind your earlier refusal. And now that she was at your mercy, you intended to make her wait a moment longer.

You pressed your body against her thigh, grinding against it rhythmically as if drawn there by some magnetic force. Your movement was subconscious, automatic, and involuntary, your cunt aching.

“Feeling good, huh?” You said, your voice slightly breathless as you held back a groan that threatened to escape you. You couldn't help but smirk at her frenzied nodding. Shaking your head slowly, you expressed your disapproval with a sharp click of your tongue, clearly unimpressed by her response. “C’mon Els, you can do better than that,” You urged her to use her words, your intention being solely to hear the whiny words only you could coax from her, wanting to savor every little gasp and sigh that fell from her lips like they were your own personal currency.

“Y-yes…yes.” Ellie was completely breathless, and when her walls seemed to squeeze your fingers hungrily, you eagerly complied, burying them inside her. A contented gasp escaped her lips, her mouth hanging open in pure euphoric ecstasy as you brought her closer and closer to her orgasm. You were making her see stars and all the planets above, and this time it wasn’t the cheap plastic stars and planets glued to her ceiling—which did not glow in the dark anymore, much to Ellie's disappointment. What a ripoff. But then again, she didn’t need those when she had you, painting all the wonders of the universe behind her lids.

Ellie’s eyes rolled back, threatening to close again, but she fought against it. She needed to keep her eyes on you, to remember who was making her feel this way. It was you; you, you, and only you. You were all she could think about.

She was so full of you, literally.

“Just like that… keep your eyes on me, gooood girl,” you cooed, “Begging me to touch you like this… what a fucking slut,” your voice dripped with fake disdain, feeling her body coiled with tension as your fingers moved faster and deeper. Your breath hitched as you rode Ellie's toned thigh, your clit throbbing against her soft skin. You could feel your own orgasm building, mirroring hers. Your hips moved faster, seeking that final push, desperate for release.

Ellie whined at your words, soft sobs escaping her lips, filling the air with the sound of her desperation. She was at your mercy, unable to do anything but follow your lead. “Who’s making you feel like this, hm?” Your voice was laced with possessive undertones, making her whimper in response and her clit twitch madly. She loved it when you got possessive of her. The pointed question’s answer was obvious, but you wanted her to say it, to acknowledge the power you wielded over her body and soul.

“You… fuck, you…” You increased the pace, your fingers moving in and out of her with relentless precision, your thumb brushing against her clit, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Ellie’s back arched off the bed, her body straining towards yours, every muscle taut with anticipation. You could feel her getting closer, her walls tightening around your fingers, her breath hitching with every thrust. “Pleaseplease”

Your wetness coating her thigh filled Ellie with a sense of pride and disbelief. She found it difficult to believe that you liked her, but feeling the evidence of your desire on her skin was undeniable. The thought that she could turn you on in such a way was surreal and hard to wrap her mind around.

“G’na cum on my fingers, dollface?” The pet name and the tone of your voice sent her heart into a flurry of flips and somersaults like a caged bird. She could practically feel the petals of a thousand blooms unfurling in her stomach, each beat of her pulse, another seed taking root.

Despite her tough facade, Ellie was a sucker for compliments and pet names, but only when they came from you. You couldn't miss the way her cheeks would turn cherry red as she blushed, her poker face failing miserably. She was an open book, easy to read and please, and you knew exactly how to get a reaction out of her. Sometimes, it felt like you could read every thought flitting through her mind just by looking into her expressive eyes. Not only were they breathtakingly beautiful, but they conveyed so much without her having to utter a single word.

Ellie’s responses were reduced to whiny “yeahs,” as she struggled to form coherent words. The way your hips rolled smoothly against her thigh elicited a tight clench around your fingers buried deep inside her. Her brows furrowed, and the moans escaping her swollen lips grew higher in pitch, threatening to reach an octave too sharp for your ears. Just as you felt her walls start to pulse, ready to explode, you withdrew your hand, leaving her gasping and aching for more.

Her head lifted weakly from the pillow, her eyes meeting yours with a pouty expression, mirroring the look of a kicked puppy. She was confused and dazed; the pleasure that had been consuming her just moments ago was fading away, leaving her feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. “What, wh-” but before she could start asking questions, you swiftly dismounted her thigh and gently patted her hips before grabbing her legs and pulling her closer.

“Wanna cum on your pussy. Gonna let me do that, yeah?” Though posed as a question, your words were laced with a commanding tone, as if you expected Ellie to comply. She didn’t mind, though; in fact, she found it quite attractive that you were so firm and sure of what you wanted, always in control. And, if there was something the auburnette loved to death, it was feeling your drenched core pulsating against hers, like she could die right there and then, utterly content. So pussy drunk.

Straddling Ellie, you aligned your soaked pussy with hers, a moan escaping her lips before you’d even begun to move. “Oh fuck…” she gasped, her back arching as she ground against you instinctively.

A moan escaped you, followed by a sharp slap to Ellie’s thigh, making her yelp. “Only patient girls get to cum,” you growled, positioning one of her legs over your shoulder. Your arousal dripped down onto her mound, making a mess. Her pussy was so slippery that it almost made it challenging for you to find the perfect angle that would satisfy both of you. You rotated your hips, testing the waters, and after some trial, you elicited a gasp from both of you.

“You feel so good, shit…” Ellie’s hips started to move on their own accord, picking up speed, creating a messy, erratic rhythm. Your nails dug into her toned flesh, leaving tiny half-moons behind as you ground against her at a more steady and controlled pace. She was becoming increasingly desperate, her body aching for the pleasure that you had cruelly taken from her, leaving her feeling frustrated and unfulfilled. “I’m close,” she gasped out.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you threatened, your eyes narrowing in disapproval. Ellie was a mess under you, her head pressed into the pillow and her eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, drawing blood as she desperately tried to hold back her orgasm. “Hold it.” Your voice grew stern, echoing in the room. Rubbing your clit harshly against hers, you increased your pace, teasing her mercilessly. Smirking, you reveled in her struggle, knowing she was close. “You’ll wait until I say so," you commanded, your breath ragged with desire.

Not even a minute had passed before Ellie was vigorously shaking her head, her big green eyes welling up as they locked onto yours, begging with an adorable pout you knew would remain indefinitely until she got her way. But she wasn’t going to get shit. “I can’t… can’t,” Her whiny tone, desperate and pleading, sent a wave of amusement through you, drawing a bemused chuckle from your throat.

“Does it look like I give a fuck?” Your voice was a low, hissed whisper dripping with devilish intent. You were so close to her face that you could see the desperation in her eyes. The auburnette let out a puppy-like whine as you denied her what she craved. All she could do was lie there, pleading with her eyes and whimpering in frustration. “Gonna be good for me.” And again, it wasn’t a request, it was a statement that left no room for disobedience. “Gonna hold it like a good girl.”

As your thrusts became more insistent, Ellie’s lips parted in a silent gasp, “You cum when I tell you to,” you repeated, emphasizing your words by increasing the speed of your hips. You relished watching her squirm and pant, her breasts bouncing with each movement. She couldn’t hold it anymore, and you knew it. Knowing the power you had over her made it all the better.

Ellie’s body shook uncontrollably, her eyes squeezed shut, tears of pleasure streaming down her cheeks. You could see the conflict in her, the struggle to hold on. To her, it felt like she was about to walk through the gates of heaven, but you denied her that final step.

“P-please…please!” It made you proud, reducing her to nothing but a mess, a sobbing and pleading mess, and she was all yours to take advantage of, to ruin and destroy. A toy to play with. And she would take it all gladly.

Her doe eyes looked up at you pleadingly, begging for your permission, desperate for a sign, anything.

Her mind completely shut off when you were on top of her, your body pressing against hers in a way that made her feel like a virgin all over again. Even though she had experienced sex multiple times before you, it was never like this, so intense, so passionate, with her emotions and thoughts all over the place.

Ellie’s hands gripped your hips tightly. She didn’t know if she wanted to push you away or encourage you to keep going. Her abdomen tensed, holding onto her orgasm just like you had requested. “No, baby. Just wait for me,” your voice dropped to a velvety whisper as you leaned closer, your face mere inches from hers. A few strands of your silken locks found their way between the two of you, caressing her cheekbones and eliciting a slight scrunch of her nose in response. The ticklish sensations only lasted briefly, disappearing as soon as your hand encircled her neck, instantly transforming her expression into a mix of surprise. “Like the way my pussy feels?” Lewd noises filled the auburnette’s messy yet neatly organized room, and she was so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear you.

“It’s so… fuck… so wet,” she babbled between breathless cries and heavenly whimpers. The olive-eyed girl was breathtakingly beautiful as she gave herself over to you, taking everything you gave her with eagerness and lust. “Feel… so good.” Poor thing couldn’t even form proper sentences. Your stomach fluttered at her words, grinding harder and faster, and only after a few seconds, you felt it, too.

“Fuck, fuck,” You cursed under your breath as overwhelming pleasure took over your body, your eyes closing and your head rolling back in ecstasy. Your grasp around her neck became firmer, “Ellie…” The way you cried out her name would’ve been enough to make her cum right on the spot, but she had to hold it like you told her to. “Cum with me, baby. Wanna feel you,”

You didn’t even have to tell her twice. She was already spasming against your core, her puffy clit pulsating like crazy against yours. Between the two of you, Ellie couldn’t tell who was being the loudest, not that it was an issue, considering you were alone and Joel wouldn’t be back until later in the evening.

When you and Ellie came down from your highs, you collapsed beside her. Despite her trying to pull you closer by wrapping her fern-tattooed arm around your waist, you rolled away, still panting and sweating. Her eyes flickered towards you, disappointment etching across her heavenly features, not understanding why you never stayed in bed cuddling after sex, each time hoping it’d be different, but it never was. The exhausted girl was also in disbelief—how could you be so energetic after sex? She will never understand.

“Where you going?” she rasped out, her green eyes never leaving your naked body, scanning your sweaty back to the way your bare chest heaved with each deep breath you took. You could feel her eyes on you, tracing every line and curve of your body. Her disappointment hung in the air, heavy and palpable. You knew she longed for those tender moments after each of your passionate encounters.

“‘M sweating like crazy, gonna shower before your dad comes back,” You padded to her closet as if the space were your own, your steps soft on the carpeted floor. You riffled through the hangers, knowing where everything was. A crisp scent of laundry detergent and Ellie's perfume wafted into the room as you carefully pulled out a fresh pair of clothes. You didn’t even bother to ask for permission; after all, you had done this countless times before, staying at her place and acting like you lived there. In fact, you had even met her dad, and he had taken a genuine liking to you.

“And you should too, Angel Knives,” you taunted her, your gaze drifting to the floor near the bed, where her Savage Starlight shirt lay discarded. The shirt was clearly a favorite, judging by the faded lettering and the soft, worn fabric, and even then, Ellie refused to throw it away.

She rolled her eyes at your teasing words, sitting up on her bed. The nickname made her cheeks flush, a playful annoyance glinting in her eyes. You could see her struggle with wanting to protest and the realization that you were probably right, feeling the sticky humidity cling to her skin.

“You a fan, too?” she asked, peeking at you with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Nah, my sister reads that nerdy shit.” You scoffed, rummaging through the drawers of her wardrobe, most likely hunting for fresh undies to wear. “Do you have anything that isn’t… Spider-Man boxers or–” You paused, pulling out banana-patterned boxers and letting it hang from your index finger. “...weird-lookin’ underwear?”

Ellie’s brow arched, a mock offense etched across her face. “Well, excuse you! I’ll have you know that boxers are highly comfortable,” she retorted playfully. “And they don’t ride up your ass like those damn thongs you wear.” She huffed out a laugh, clearly amused.

“Okay,” you shot her an unamused look. “You love my thongs,” you added, pointing your finger at her.

She shrugged, the corners of her lips curving into a lopsided smile. “Never said I don’t. They’re just uncomfortable—why do you need a thong anyway? Who’re you getting ready for, hm?” She stood from her bed, reaching for her wrinkled shirt, forgotten on the messy floor.

“I’m not the one flirting with Alexa all day at work,” you snapped half-jokingly, seizing the opportunity to needle her, which made the auburnette roll her eyes and groan. It wasn’t the first time you’d complained about their friendship, convinced there was more to it than just friendly banter. You could see how Alexa looked at her, or whatever her name was—not that you gave a shit.

“Here we go again,” Ellie muttered under her breath, rubbing her damp forehead with the palm of her hand, clearly exasperated.

“Uh, sorry? Couldn’t hear you.” Your hands were already on your hips, staring at her, daring to say something more. Your authoritative demeanor, once effective, seemed to be losing its impact on her.

Ellie exhaled deeply, pulling her shirt over her head. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face still flushed from your recent activities. “Throwing that drink at her was unnecessary.”

“You smiling at her was unnecessary.”

“I was just being nice!” she protested defensively, her brows knitting together in frustration.

“Right.” You scoffed, finally picking out a pair of boxers, deliberately avoiding her gaze. Ellie frowned, her eyes tracking your every move. She picked up her dirty boxers from the ground and pulled them on, feeling the uncomfortable dampness of dried precum, but they’d do until you emerged from the bathroom and she could finally shower and freshen up.

“Babe, c’mon, it’s not like that. You know it isn’t.” Ellie’s voice softened, reaching out to touch your arm. Every fiber of her being seemed to be pleading for reassurance, comfort, and attention. She couldn’t handle it when you got pissy with her.

“Gonna shower,” you said flatly, your expression unreadable, as you walked away from her and disappeared into the bathroom. “Don’t join me,” Your words echoed behind the door you slammed shut, cutting off her access to you cruelly.

But she did just the opposite. Ellie walked into the cramped shower after you, joining you in the steam-filled space. There was something about the steam of the shower and the sensual touch of her hands that immediately calmed you. She had learned how to soothe you just the way you liked, the combination of warm water, gentle caresses, and her worshiping touch making your body hum with pleasure. Soon, her name was a whispered plea on your lips.

When Joel returned home, the room felt like a still-life painting of quiet contentment. You and Ellie had already transformed, dressed up and looking more presentable than earlier. He stepped in and shut the door quietly, exhaling deeply, the weight of the day's burdens evident in the sigh that escaped his lips, a white cake box in his hand, which she recognized as the box from Maria’s bakery.

His tired, wrinkled eyes scanned the living room, taking in the remnants of your earlier feast—the pizza boxes stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, a testament to an easy, carefree evening. The two of you were nestled on the couch, your head resting gently on Ellie’s shoulder, your long lashes brushing against your cheeks, picture of serene slumber.

“Hey, kiddo,” Joel’s voice, a blend of gravel and warmth, broke the silence. His greeting was aimed at his daughter, who was still awake, her eyes fixed on the TV. The screen’s muted hum was a lullaby for you, drawing you deeper into the realm of dreams, while Ellie, her heart swelling with affection, watched over you, cherishing the sight of your peaceful expression. Ellie’s eyes lit up at her dad’s voice, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She gently shifted, careful not to wake you, moving just enough to acknowledge Joel’s presence.

His gaze softened as he looked at the two of you, seeing not just his daughter but also the close-knit friendship that had blossomed between you. It was a sight that brought a subtle, contented smile to his weathered face, glad that, for once, Ellie had stepped out of her comfort zone and made a new friend.

“Maria made a cake for you. She thought you were coming, too,” The middle-aged man said, swiftly placing the cake box on the table near the entrance and shrugging off his coat. “Your favorite.”

Maria loved to cook, not for herself, but for the people she cherished. She’d make Ellie’s favorite dishes whenever she knew Ellie was coming over, baking cookies or whatever the redhead craved.

Joel’s brother and his wife had always been like a second family to Ellie. Being a single dad wasn’t easy for Joel, and Tommy was always there to support him, as was his wife, Maria. She had been a rock for Ellie, comforting her during the turbulent waves of adolescence, like when she got her first period and cried hysterically in her arms. Maria was the mother Ellie never had, guiding her with gentle wisdom.

Whenever Joel became too suffocating, Tommy’s house was Ellie’s sanctuary, and Maria was the only woman she could pour her heart out to, complaining about how harsh her dad could be at times. Joel wasn’t a bad dad; he was trying his best. He was always willing to learn and adapt whenever he made mistakes, ready to listen to his daughter’s needs.

The young girl nodded at her dad’s words, the small movement causing your head to slip from her shoulder, waking you instantly. Your eyes darted to Joel, confused and half-asleep.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you yawned, straightening your posture and offering a soft smile.

“Thought we were past formalities, kid,” he responded with a half-smile. “Staying for the night?”

“Not this time. My mom’s coming back from a business trip,” you explained, glancing at Ellie for a moment before looking back at Joel.

Every time you looked at him, Ellie noticed a sparkle in your eyes, as if you were gazing at the most precious gem, something you desired but couldn’t have. Despite your wealth, the cinnamon-haired girl was unaware of how much richer she was in the things that truly mattered—she had a small house, yet it was full of joy, life, love, and a dad who would do anything for his daughter.

Love. Something so simple yet elusive, even for people like you.

Ellie saw the bittersweet smile on your face whenever Joel teased her or made silly dad jokes to make her laugh. Your dad never cared, nor did your mom. They were too focused on appearances, money, and molding you into the perfect daughter, but never actually caring for you. They were always traveling for work, never home, no family dinners, no Sunday picnics in the park. They’d praise you and leave money in your hand, their fake and forced words ringing in your ears, making you smile even as your stomach churned with dissatisfaction and longing. But you wanted more than words. You wanted more than money could ever buy.

26th of August.

You unlocked the front door and entered your family’s mansion, the heavy wooden door creaking softly on its hinges. You held it open for Ellie, who hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. She had never been to your place before, and with both of your parents gone for the week on business, you had seized the opportunity to bring her over.

The mansion was pristine, everything looking like it had been plucked straight out of a glossy magazine. The warm hues of the hardwood floors and the soft, ambient lighting softened the clean lines of the modern furniture.

Yet, despite its beauty, the house felt impersonal, like a perfectly staged showroom devoid of any real warmth. The pristine walls were adorned with a few framed photographs—mostly of your parents’ wedding, your first birthday, and a picture of your dad at what appeared to be a promotion party. No clutter, no personal touches. It was a house, not a home.

“Make yourself at home,” you kicked off your shoes and placed them neatly on the shoe rack by the entrance. Ellie hummed in response, her eyes roaming around the space as she wandered deeper into the house, her backpack still slung over her shoulder.

Her gaze remained fixed on the picture frame, a puzzled expression on her face as she asked, “Is this your sister?”

“Sister? What sister?” Your reply came out quick and unfeeling, as if the mention of a sibling was foreign to you.

Ellie’s eyebrow arched in skepticism at your dismissive tone, clearly certain of what she was saying. “You told me you had a sister,” she repeated, her gaze unwavering as she tried to jog your memory. Confusion evident on your face, she continued, “You know, the Savage Starlight fan…?” she prompted, recalling the conversation, her confusion deepening as you remained oblivious to what she was talking about.

“I never said that,” you scoffed, “Maybe your brain is scrambled from all the weed you smoke on breaks with Dina.” Ellie’s eyes widened slightly at your accusation, a flicker of surprise and amusement crossing her face.

“Whaa—”

“Ooooh, thought I wouldn’t notice?” you teased, a playful chuckle escaping your lips. You adopted a mock scolding expression, pinching her waist gently, making her squirm and jump away from you.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, raising her hands protectively in front of her abdomen. A playful grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “It only happened once.”

“Uh-huh,” you responded, your skepticism evident in your tone.

“...or twice,” she added, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you repeated, giving her a look that was a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Ellie chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, echoing through the otherwise silent mansion. She dropped her backpack by the foot of the couch and flopped down onto the plush cushions, sinking into their softness. You watched her for a moment, the way she seemed to bring life into the sterile environment, her presence a stark contrast to the usual cold perfection of your home.

“Seriously though,” she started, looking up at you with a more earnest expression. “Thanks for inviting me over. Your place is... well, it’s pretty amazing.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but her words brought a small, genuine smile to your lips. “It’s just a house,” you said, dismissing the compliment. “But you’re welcome.”

Ellie nodded, her eyes drifting back to the framed photos on the wall. She seemed lost in thought, her fingers tracing patterns on the couch fabric absentmindedly. “So, what do you want to do?”

A sly grin graced your lips, the corners of your mouth curving up. “Well, with the parents away, we’ve got the place to ourselves. I was thinking we could order Mexican food, watch a movie, and just hang out. Sound good?”

Ellie’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “Yeah, sounds perfect.”

She ended up staying for more than just the night. One night turned into two days, then three, with Ellie insisting she couldn’t leave you all by yourself while your parents were gone. “I’ll keep you great company,” she had said with a mischievous grin.

Your days in her company were a blissful blur of sex, cuddles, kisses, and more sex.

Rinse and repeat.

You groggily woke up one morning, instinctively reaching out for her, but the soft white sheets beside you were empty and cold. The faint scent of something sweet hung in the air, mixing with the lingering vanilla from the candles you had lit the night before, back when Ellie had eaten you out so good that it put you to sleep.

Sitting up, you rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. Ellie’s over-sized shirt hung loosely on your body, brushing against your thighs as you stood. Your steps were almost inaudible as you padded toward the kitchen, drawn by the soft sounds and sweeter smells.

There she was, by the stove, flipping golden pancakes with practiced ease. A soft smile spread across your face as you admired her quietly. The morning light tiptoed through the window, casting a gentle glow on her goddess-like features. She hummed a tune to herself, a song you didn’t recognize, so engrossed in her task that it made your heart swell, a warm and unfamiliar feeling creeping up into your chest.

You walked up behind Ellie quietly, wrapping your arms around her waist. She jumped slightly, her humming stopping abruptly, before chuckling softly. “You scared the shit outta me,” she murmured, revealing her perfect pearly teeth in a smile you were too late to see. You pressed your cheek against her back, hugging her tightly. One of her hands gripped the spatula expertly while the other came to rest on top of your forearms, which were snugly hugging her waist.

“Sorry,” you mumbled softly, still half asleep.

Ellie laughed gently, the sound a soothing balm to your sleepy mind. “Didn’t hear you coming.”

You nuzzled closer, inhaling her scent, a mix of morning freshness and something uniquely her. God, you loved her smell. “Pancakes?”

“Yep,” she said, flipping another perfectly golden one. “Figured you’d wake up hungry after last night.” she teased.

“Oh, haha”

She chuckled again, a warm, melodic sound that filled the kitchen. “I made a whole stack.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just enjoying the simple intimacy of the morning. The pancakes sizzled in the pan, the smell of syrup and vanilla mingling in the air. The light continued to play across the room, casting a halo around Ellie’s head, making her look even more divine.

Finally, you loosened your grip, and she turned around, her eyes meeting yours with a tender look that made your heart skip a beat. “Breakfast is almost ready,” she informed you softly, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Ellie didn’t have to go out of her way like that. Not even your own mother bothered to show that level of care. She never worried if you had eaten while she was out all day in meetings or away for a whole week on a work trip. Ellie really didn’t have to be so incredibly kind to you, to spoil you, to push you to your limits at night only to care for you in the morning. And the worst part was that you were becoming accustomed to it.

Ellie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I wanted to,” she murmured.

You smiled up at her, feeling a swell of emotion you couldn’t quite put into words—it was nothing you had felt before. It wasn’t just the sex or the cuddles or the endless nights of talking and laughing. Moments like this, simple and pure, made you realize just how much the auburnette actually meant to you. That’s when a sudden wave of worry washed over you, wondering what it would be like if all this was ripped from you. It all felt too perfect to be real.

“Where’d you even learn to make pancakes?” you suddenly asked in disbelief, your eyes fixed on the impeccable stack of pancakes sitting on a plate atop the glistening white marble. They looked like they had emerged from a step-by-step tutorial video or one of those captivating cooking shows on TV. The kind of pancakes that you’d attempt to recreate but could never quite make as beautiful as the ones on the screen.

“Maria,” Ellie smirked, clearly proud of her cooking skills. “You should try hers. They’re sooo good.”

The morning continued, filled with laughter, stolen kisses, and inside jokes. Ellie insisted on washing the dishes, her movements swift and efficient as she tidied up the usually immaculate kitchen. She almost felt guilty for using and messing it up in the first place.

You leaned against the living room door frame, watching Ellie with a soft smile. Her fingers traced over the spines of the vinyls on the shelf near the record player, curiosity etched on her face.

“That’s all my dad’s,” you said, tugging her back from her reverie. “But I doubt he’s ever used it once,” you added, a wistful sigh escaping your lips.

Ellie turned to you, her brows raised in curiosity. She had seen a vinyl record once at one of Joel’s friends’ places when she was a kid. Bill had a bunch of vintage stuff, and she had asked if she could try it, only to get a gruff, “Don’t you even try, you little shit,” in response. That had obviously been met with a scolding glare from her dad.

She hummed in acknowledgment. “Does it even work?” she asked, her fingertips tracing the edge of the record player.

“‘Course it does. I use it all the time,” you revealed. Ellie’s eyes darted to the vinyl in the player, assuming it was only for decoration before your words. You walked over and placed the needle on the record, the familiar crackle filling the room before the first notes of a ‘The Smiths’ song began to play.

Ellie laughed in disbelief. “The Smiths, really?” she teased, a hint of humor in her tone. She couldn’t help but find it jarring that this soft, romantic song didn’t mesh with the polished, cool exterior you usually projected.

“Surprised?” you teased back, a glint of challenge sparking in your eyes. “There’s more to me than meets the eye, you know,” you whispered mischievously.

Ellie smiled, shaking her head. “I guess so.” She moved closer, her hands finding their way to your waist as the music played softly in the background. “What other secrets are you hiding?”

You wrapped your arms around her neck, pulling her closer as you swayed together, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony. Her body was warm and soft against yours; you couldn’t help but tease her in return, a playful smirk on your face. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you echoed, your voice low and suggestive.

The room seemed to constrict around you, the music creating an intimate bubble that isolated you from the rest of the world. Ellie traced patterns on your back, her breath warm and comforting against your neck. The song played on, its melancholic lyrics weaving a spell around you as if the music herself had woven a net to capture the moment.

Her gentle laughter, a delicate and enchanting sound, intertwined with the lyrics, creating a mesmerizing harmony in the air. Leaning in, she whispered, “Oooh, I want to know everything about you,” her words caressing your lips before capturing them in a soft, lingering kiss. Time seemed to stand still in that moment as if transported into a surreal dream or a romantic movie scene.

The moment the kiss shifted down to your neck, you instinctively tilted your head, surrendering to her touch and allowing her to explore the sensitive flesh with her lips. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft hum of pleasure escaping from your throat as you leaned completely against her, letting her control the slow, swaying motion of your bodies.

Ellie mumbled something against your neck, her words lost as she continued a trail of soft kisses along the sensitive flesh. Your mind was hazy with pleasure, your body responding instinctively to her touch. “Hmm?” you hummed, realizing you hadn't entirely caught what she said.

“I said I love the Smiths.” The redhead repeated herself, pulling away from you to meet your eyes, her dilated pupils fixed intently on yours, her mouth shaped in a sheepish, dumbfounded smile. In that moment, you could see firsthand how love had a way of making even the toughest person look utterly idiotic.

You grinned widely at her words, your hand reaching out to tenderly tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Your gaze flicked down to her lips, a sly gleam in your eyes before you abruptly crushed your lips against hers. Her eyes widened momentarily, a pair of small, smiling wrinkles forming at the corners before she melted into the kiss, her hands needily pulling your body closer to hers, almost tripping as she stumbled backward.

28th of August.

Ellie’s sobs filled your ears, a melody of desperation and delight, messy and unrestrained. Her body was a masterpiece, splattered with a riot of purple paint, accented with hot pink and blue, those elusive spots that refused to blend together, tangible proof of her impatience. She lay sprawled on the largest canvas your dad’s studio could offer, a living, breathing work of art.

It all began with an innocent, trivial question. “What’s with the face paint?” Ellie’s eyes widened with wonder as she caught sight of the face paint set tucked away in your bathroom. The tubes were crusty with dried paint, a relic of past experiments, and her inquisitive nature couldn’t resist the lure of discovering more about you.

She needed to know everything about you.

One thing led to another, and soon, you were painting her body a delicate shade of blue. Flowers bloomed around her areolas, her pink nipples hardening instantly as the brush’s bristles teased her sensitive skin, causing giddy giggles to erupt from her. Her thighs, once adorned with intricate floral patterns, now bore the marks of your passion, a chaotic blend of colors that turned into a deep purple.

You continued your creative spree, doodling and pouring your love into each stroke, turning her into your personal canvas. She lay there, naked and willing, on the actual canvas, her body the perfect medium for your artistic expression. She was so fucking perfect. Prettier than any supermodel. Your instrument moved across her honeyed flesh, connecting the dark, espresso-colored dots to create unique constellations. Your brushstrokes caressed her skin like a stargazer tracing patterns in the night sky.

When she was given the chance, Ellie’s hands moved with an unexpected elegance, sketching whimsical, Van Gogh-esque drawings on your soft, supple skin. But your features were so perfect, so divine, that they hardly needed any embellishment. And Ellie was nothing more than a devoted disciple, ready to worship your body at any second. She tried her best not to ruin her masterpiece by pouncing on you, but the temptation was too strong. She pressed her body against yours, her pink-stained hands exploring your form, leaving behind a beautiful mess on the once-blank canvas beneath you.

In a heartbeat, you had Ellie pressed against the canvas that would soon become a masterpiece. Her body was sprawled across the expanse of white as you trapped her beneath you, enclosing her with your thighs like the frame around a piece of art.

You were dead sure all those well-known artists would be jealous, their hands trembling with envy at the passion you poured into each other. Each movement etched another stroke as you worked together, painting love into existence, daring history itself to look away.

Your fingers worked relentlessly inside her, thrusting with a fierce, almost reckless abandon. You watched the redhead quiver and squirm, her soft sobs echoing through the vast mansion, filling the silence with a melody of need and desire. The mansion felt so empty, yet so complete with the addictive sounds of her pleasure.

“Just a bit more, pretty girl. Gonna make such a cute painting, yeah?” you purred, your tone dripping with sugary sweetness. Your free hand held her hips down firmly, abandoning her tits to focus on the task at hand.

Ellie nodded, crying out your name, her legs twitching and threatening to clamp around your hand, trapping it between her toned, plush thighs. Thighs that bore the marks of your love from the night before, purple love bites adorning her slightly tanned skin. Purple suited her so well, whether it was the paint or the love marks you left behind.

“I’m gonna hang this masterpiece where I can see it every day. A reminder of how fucking perfect you are,” you murmured, voice like liquid sin, your pink-stained knees planted firmly on either side of her hips as you hovered over her, your body a kaleidoscope of passion painted in wild strokes of color. Your lips brushed against hers, whispering sweet nothings; your words ignited a flurry of excitement in her stomach, making her insides perform all sorts of acrobatic feats at every syllable that escaped your lips. The idea of you displaying both of your bodies—or, well, the mess you two had made on the canvas while you destroyed the shit out of her—turned her on even more and made her feel special; it made her feel oddly appreciated.

Your fingers, slick and relentless, plunged deeper inside her, exploring her depths like an artist lost in the throes of creation. “Babe… g’na cum again,” she panted, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and anticipation. Her hands, stained with pink and blue, clung to your arm, leaving smears of paint like love notes on your skin.

“I’m not stopping until you do,” you promised with a wicked grin, your free hand roaming her body, feeling the curves and dips like a sculptor molding clay. Your breasts hovered over her smaller ones, purposely rubbing your hard nipples against hers in a slow, sensual motion, feeling her chest rise and fall with each breath, “Muses deserve to be worshiped.”

The auburnette couldn't agree more; her sketchbook was filled with drawings of you. Every line, every curve, every feature of your face and body were etched onto the pages as if they were a permanent fixture in her mind. The sketches captured your essence in a way that words could never fully describe. The casual moments she had spent observing you burned into her memory, and she felt compelled to translate them onto paper.

She had never shown them to you, of course, and she hoped you would never find out. The sketches were her secret stash of stolen memories, snapshots of intimate interactions, a reminder of the unique connection she shared with you that words alone could never capture.

Ellie’s back arched, pressing her painted body closer to yours, the heat between you both almost unbearable. The canvas beneath you was a riot of color, a testament to your passionate union, each brushstroke a symbol of a moment where flesh met flesh.

“You’re my fucking masterpiece,” you rasped, fingers working faster, deeper, drawing out her pleasure with every thrust. The sounds escaping her lips were almost musical in their intensity—mewls and whines so high-pitched and fervent.

Ellie cried out, the sound echoing through the usually silent mansion, a symphony of unfiltered sinful pleasure. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, her body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm. You felt her cunt squeeze your fingers, her release painting you in a mess of sticky wetness and raw need, mixing with the paint all over each of you.

Your sacred nectar dripped onto the rough canvas, merging with the pink and blue stains like a varnish promising to seal the artwork, smudge-proof. But it wasn’t enough; it was never enough for you. You always pushed Ellie past her limits.

As the emerald-eyed girl came, you left her no time to recover from her orgasm. “Sit on my face,” you commanded. You never just asked—you took whatever you wanted, doing as you pleased. And she complied, like a good brainless little thing, letting you use her, just like always.

“Am I too… heavy? Can you breathe?” The questions rolled off Ellie’s tongue, her anxious mind racing. She was almost afraid of putting any weight on your face; the last thing she wanted was to hurt you. Oh, if she knew how much you wanted to suffocate between those toned thighs.

Blue-stained hands gripped her hips firmly, dragging her down onto you. You huffed at her nervous questions. “Just like you’d sit on a chair,” you instructed. She let you control her every movement, shivering as your breath ghosted over her wetness, her hand resting gently on your abdomen to steady herself.

You took a moment to admire the mess you had made of her, translucent cum coating her cunt and various colors painting her body, making her look like a beautiful mess. “So messy,” you murmured, your voice muffled. Your tongue traced along her slit, gathering every drop of her essence with your muscle. You teased her entrance with your tongue but never quite stuffing it inside, instead traveling to her swollen clit.

Ellie squirmed and jerked away from your face, still incredibly sensitive, but you stopped her in her tracks, gripping her hips to keep her anchored to your mouth. She cried out as you teased her throbbing nub, applying the smallest pressure, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh my god…” she gasped, her head thrown back, mouth agape in a silent cry, eyes rolling back as you began to suck gently. But when she looked past her shoulder and took note of your paint-smeared thighs, the way you rubbed them together in search of desperately needed friction. She couldn’t drown the urge to make you feel good. You were always so good to her, taking care of her body with fervent dedication and love, and she wanted to do the exact same thing to you. Ellie swiftly turned to lay on top of you, her body adhering to yours perfectly, mixing paint with sweat and cum; she gently parted your legs to bury her face between them. Her fingertips traced a delicate pattern, and a shiver ran through your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the feather-light devoted touch.

Your body shivered with anticipation as she began to play with your sensitive core, her long fingers circling your entrance and making you grow more impatient by the second. The auburnette couldn’t help but smirk at your urgent movements, watching as you bucked against her, desperately needing more from her touch.

There was an unspoken competition between the two of you. You were determined to make Ellie come before you, and she had the same goal in mind for you. Her fingers filled you, her mouth on your clit, sucking harshly, as if she was drawing life itself from you, making it hard to focus on anything but the building tension in your belly.

Your paint-smudged face contorted, a beautiful blend of frustration and ecstasy, as you succumbed to the overwhelming knot tightening in your stomach. Your thoughts were scattered, unable to focus on the task ahead anymore. What prevailed was the connection between you, a cosmic collision that was both fierce and gentle, like the merging of planets, or the joining of stars.

Your mouth left Ellie’s core, your nails sunk into the plump flesh of her colored ass, paint collecting under the nails, and your eyes squeezed shut. The redhead’s mind was lost in the filthy noises you were making, so lewd and animalistic. She was eagerly slurping on you, tongue flicking against your clit, her digits coated in the slick wetness that was pouring out of you with each pump of her slender fingers.

Ellie’s rough fingers dug deeper and deeper, and as soon as she added a third finger, you came; she enjoyed the feeling of you pulsating around her so much, like a kid who had found the toy they had wished for under the Christmas tree. You left a trail of crimson nail marks etched onto her skin, a vivid reminder of the moment that would replay endlessly in her mind like a film caught in a loop.

Her hands glided over your trembling thighs, fingers tracing gentle reassurances in the paint that anchored you in the moment. “Did so good for me,” Ellie murmured, her voice a soft caress that warmed your skin like sunlight filtering through leaves. For a heartbeat, it felt as though roles had reversed. But the shift was fleeting, like a breeze that stirs the leaves for only a moment. Her breath hitched as your mouth found its place again. Her voice caught in her throat, countless stifled sounds bouncing around the room as you pressed on, more determined than ever to bring her to her orgasm.

The ivy-eyed girl gasped, the word “fuck” tumbling from her lips, raw and unguarded, as her body shifted above you. But you held her close, your arms encircling her, a protective, possessive cage that kept her pressed against you, unable to escape. Your grip left marks, but she didn’t mind; they were reminders of the intensity of this moment, of how much you needed her. Her hips moved with a desperate rhythm against your tongue, her essence mingling with your own, painting your chin with slick saccharine juices. “I’m close again,” she warned, her words more of a plea than a warning.

“You’re so fucking good at this,” Ellie breathed, the words tumbling out in a mess of praise that barely held meaning, but you understood them perfectly. You continued your worship, devouring her like she was the first taste of sweetness after a lifetime of bitterness like you had never known anything more intoxicating than the flavor of her. And it was true. She rode the waves of her peak, her hips undulating in a rhythm you wished you could capture, freeze in time, and replay endlessly just to marvel at the poetry of her movements.

When she finally shattered, you made sure to savor every fragment of her, to pull every last drop of her essence into you, draining her completely. She was your ambrosia, a feast for a hunger you hadn’t known you carried until you met her. And there was something almost unholy in how desperately you craved every part of her, a need that would remain your secret. She didn’t need to know all that.

You lay there together, bodies tangled in a heap of sweat and colors, the aftermath of your passions a vivid painting that had yet to dry. Your breaths mingled, an echo of exhaustion and contentment, until finally, the euphoria began to fade. You helped each other to your feet, and together, you made your way to the bathroom, the remnants of your creative explosion still clinging to your skin, a Picasso of emotions splashed across your bodies, leaving the actual canvas you had fucked her on laying on the floor, drying.

The moment you two stepped into the shower, steam began filling the bathroom, sticking to your paint-splattered skin. It felt oddly intimate, a sensation that left you struggling to comprehend how taking a shower with Ellie could feel so profound. You had showered together countless times, often after sex and sometimes leading right back into it, your hands unable to keep to themselves, drawn to explore and touch.

But this time was different. Neither of you spoke nor dared disturb the comfortable peace that had formed in this box-shaped sanctuary. Yet, without words, you were communicating more deeply than ever. Ellie’s touch wasn’t hungry or greedy; she wasn’t pulling you closer to satisfy her own desires. Her hands moved with a tenderness that almost made you cry as she carefully massaged the soap onto your skin.

Have you ever been touched like this before?

Her green eyes watched your body with such love and care, meeting your gaze with an intensity that spoke louder than words. It was as if you could hear the unspoken confession that echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain she couldn’t shake off. She didn’t want to overstep, didn’t want to scare you away, but the feeling was there.

Your eyes remained locked on each other, the silence both comforting and suffocating, your minds plagued by the same simple yet devastating confession.

“I love you.”

But neither of you dared to say it. The fear of such vulnerability held you back. You had never felt this way before. Your heart and mind, usually so guarded, ached with the desire to be loved, to be unwrapped and discovered like a precious gift. There was so much more to you than the expensive clothes, the money, the bitchy attitude, and the snarky comments. She saw it all. She could see right through you.

And that’s when it clicked. You kept Ellie around, not just because she didn’t let your bullshit faze her and snapped right back at you like a boomerang, but because she made you feel seen. This feeling of being truly seen was the most terrifying thing in the world. It sounded so simple, so stupid even. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? To be seen?

Not when it came with the power to destroy you, to leave you in pieces if they ever decided to walk away.

Only when you had stepped out of the shower did you finally speak, both of you trying to ignore the intense moment that had just transpired. You pretended it wasn’t there, that the feelings and infatuation didn’t linger in the steam-filled air. Ellie helped you wrap a clean towel around your body, her touch lingering just a fraction too long, and you did the same for her, your hands brushing her skin with a familiarity that felt both comforting and dangerous.

“When are they coming back again?” she asked, breaking the sacred silence, her voice soft. Her crystalline eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made you almost uncomfortable, compelling you to look away.

She could sense it—like a truffle-hunting dog, she picked up on the uncertainty, the fear radiating from you. But she didn’t call you out on it, not even when you turned your back to her, pretending to be too busy tidying up the self-care products scattered on the gray marble of the sink.

You busied yourself with arranging the bottles and jars, your hands moving with a mechanical precision. “The day after tomorrow, but I invited my friends over tonight,” you announced, your voice cutting through the thick silence.

The auburnette hummed in acknowledgment, a sound that felt more like a placeholder than a response. You sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, and turned to look at her. An apologetic, guilty expression painted your face.

“What?” she mumbled, her brows lifting ever so slightly, confusion knitting them together. She couldn’t read your expression or decipher the tangled thoughts wandering through your mind.

“It’s gonna be a girls’ night.”

Ellie’s brows arched in perplexity, and she huffed out a chuckle. “I’m a girl too,” she uttered, the confusion clear in her voice, her eyes searching yours for clarity.

“No, I meant... I want time alone with my friends.” You could see the shift in her eyes, the realization settling in like a storm cloud, darkening the light in her gaze.

She let out a scoff, her voice tinged with sarcasm as a bitter expression took over her features, her freckles standing out like splatters of ink against the canvas of her anger-flushed cheeks. “Ah, yeah, sure.” She could feel her patience slipping away at your bewildered and wide-eyed look as if she had been waiting for this very moment to unleash her true thoughts. The meadow-eyed girl’s expression hardened, a slight frown crossing her face as she prepared to speak her mind. “Is it that or the fact that you’re ashamed of me?”

“What are you on about?”

“C’mon, I’m not fucking stupid.” She shook her head in disappointment, her eyes clouded with hurt. “I thought we were past this bullshit.”

You chuckled, a hollow sound that echoed off the marble walls, trying to brush off her words and dismiss them, just like you always did whenever you wanted to avoid confrontation. “You’re overthinking it.”

But she wasn’t having it, not this time. Ellie stood there, the dampness of the shower still clinging to her skin, her frustration palpable. Her eyes, usually a soft haven, were now sharp and piercing, searching yours for any sign of the truth you were so desperate to hide.

“Yeah, say all you want. I know what you’re doing.” Her voice raised ever so slightly, her flushed face contorted in anger. A few baby hairs stuck to her damp and humid forehead, a loose strand escaping her little bun and framing her face like a wild halo. “What about when we’re gonna date, like, officially?” she blurted out, frustration dripping from every syllable.

“Date?” you scoffed, your voice softer than hers, your expression starkly contrasting her intensity, almost… mocking.

“Yes, date. What the fuck are we?”

“Ellie, do not start with this again,” you grumbled, annoyed, your eyes rolling at her question. “We’re having fun, that’s what we are.”

Her eyes narrowed, the hurt and anger blending into a storm behind her gaze. “Having fun, really?” she echoed, disbelief and desperation lacing her words.

“We’re having fun, Ellie. Isn’t that enough?” you snapped back, arms crossed, your posture defensive, closing off like a fortress. The air between you felt electric, charged with the tension of unspoken truths and buried fears.

“Enough? For who?” she shot back, her voice cracking with emotion. “For you, maybe. But not for me. I need more than just ‘fun.’ I need to know what this is. What we are.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “We’re just… Can’t we just keep it simple for now?”

“Simple?” The freckled girl’s scoff was sharp, her head shaking in disbelief as she tried to banish the tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. She refused to let you see her cry, to give you the satisfaction of thinking that she was weak, that you had any power over her emotions, feeding your ego like some kind of gluttonous beast. “You call this simple? Hiding me from your friends, pretending like we’re just hooking up? That’s not simple; that’s cowardice.”

Her words stung, each one a dagger to your carefully constructed defenses. “It’s not like that. It’s just... complicated.”

“Complicated? Or are you just scared?” she challenged, stepping closer, her eyes locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. “Scared of what this could be. Scared of letting yourself feel something real.” she had this almost devilish smirk on her face, “Have you ever even been in love before?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Ellie was right, and you knew it. The truth was, you were terrified. Terrified of how deeply you felt for her, terrified of what it would mean to let her in, truly and completely. Not again, at least; it was something you couldn’t afford.

The fear was suffocating, and you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth. Not yet. “I just need time,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“Time,” Ellie repeated, her voice hollow. “How much time? Because I’m here, right now, ready to give you everything. But I won’t wait forever.”

You looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the vulnerability she was laying bare. The silence between you was deafening, a chasm that threatened to swallow you both whole.

“Ellie, I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat, tangled in the web of your own fear.

“Forget it,” she said, turning away, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Just forget it.”

She walked past you, bumping your shoulder as she stormed off, her footsteps echoing in the tile-lined hallway. She rushed to your room, her movements frantic and determined, immediately gathering her clothes—everything. By the time you ran after her, the auburnette was already half-dressed, slipping on the last piece of clothing. The distance between you felt insurmountable, and you realized with a sinking heart that you might have just lost the best thing you never knew you needed.

You stared at her with wide eyes, your fear laid bare. “El, c’mon. Stop acting like this.” You tried to shake her out of it, but it was clear she wasn’t going to sit there like a good puppy and let your lies control her every decision. Not this time.

She kept pacing back and forth quickly, shoving her belongings into her backpack with an urgency that broke your heart. You walked towards her, reaching for her arm. “Baby, hey, look at me.” Despite the softness in your voice, she snatched her arm away from your grasp.

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me,” she snapped, her voice a whip crack in the tense air.

“Let’s talk about it, please,” you pleaded, desperation creeping into your tone, something you never even dared to do, not even in your wildest dreams.

She paused for a moment, her back to you, her shoulders trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “Talk about what?” she finally said, her voice breaking. “Talk about how you’re too scared of being seen with me? How you’d rather hide me away rather than face your stupid fucking friends? Or… whatever it is you're scared of.”

Your silence spoke volumes, the truth too heavy to put into words. “Ellie, I’m trying. I really am.”

“Trying?” she repeated, her voice laced with bitter disbelief. She turned to face you, her eyes red-rimmed and shining with unshed tears. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to decide if I’m worth the risk.”

Her words sliced through your soul like the bite of a razor-sharp blade, the sheer weight of her anguish resonating deep within your very bones. You wanted to reach out, to pull her into your arms and promise her the world, but the fear held you back, a dark shadow whispering doubts into your ear.

“Ellie, please,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Don’t go.”

She shook her head, the finality of her decision clear in her eyes. “I can’t stay,” she said softly. “Not like this.”

“Hey, hey, stop it. Don’t.” You stepped right in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. Your hands gently cradled her face, and you gazed intently into her intense emerald eyes. You pressed your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling as you held her gaze.

Ellie’s hands delicately rested on top of yours, her voice barely audible as your name escaped her lips like a gentle sigh. Her long eyelashes fluttered closed briefly, as if the moment’s intensity was enough to take her breath away, leaving her feeling overwhelmed.

“You don’t wanna leave,” Your voice was soft and soothing as your thumb tenderly caressed the freckled plane of her cheekbone, your words a silent plea that you couldn't bring yourself to speak aloud.

Why not simply reveal your feelings, confessing that you loved her just as much as she loved you? Why not lay bare your heart and express how her absence leaves an aching void within you, a void that can only be filled by her presence alone? Pride had a way of ruining everything, an invisible force that drove wedges between hearts. Add to that fear of vulnerability, and the situation becomes even more dire, a toxic combination that threatens to destroy even the strongest connections.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, the words caught in your throat like thorns. And so, Ellie left, slipping away like sand through your fingers.

You watched as she zipped up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, her steps heavy as she walked past you. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing in your ears like a death knell taking with her that little warmth only she could provide, your house growing uncomfortably cold and empty again.

Back to the origin.

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impactedfates · 11 days ago

Text

Yapper Boyfriend - Various HSR Boys x GN!Reader

★ Summary: Your boyfriend loves to talk and you love to listen, though sometimes it puts a stop to what you're doing or you can tell it's getting him worked up. So what better why to make sure he's happy then stopping him with a kiss? (TLDR: Shutting your boyfriend up w/ a kiss)

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Argenti , Boothill, Mr Reca, Dr Ratio, Dan Heng + Sunday

★ Genre/Trope: Established Relationship + Romantic + Fluff

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Mr Reca may be OOC (Getting used to his character still) // Sunday may be OOC // Slightly Proof Read // Writing kiss scenes are awkward...

Your beautiful boyfriend Argenti, he was the greenest flag you've ever met. You never minded his yapping and praises for Idrila, that's just how he was. And honestly, seeing him hold a long dead god with such high regard after all this time was admirable.

Though at times, it can interrupt your dates. And that's what was happening now. You were both visiting a planet and stumbled upon a shrine for the very goddess he worships. Immediately, he lets go of your hand and kneels in front of it, he sings his praises to it.

You could only sigh and smile softly as he did so. Though that wasn't the end of the praises you heard, even after walking away. The conversation you were having with your boyfriend slowly turned into him praising Idrila again. You knew why, it was rare to find any followers of Beauty these days let alone find a shrine dedicated to her.

Though, you'd much prefer singing praises to him and how great he was. You didn't mind too much listening. You knew he was passionate about his goddess and who were you to stop him. You couldn't help but admire him. You also couldn't mind just...

"It's just fantastic isn't it my love? Seeing a shrine so well kept for goddess Idrila. It's just-"

You quickly leaned up, kissing him softly on the lips. He was quick to reciprocate, leaning into your touch before you two pulled away.

"I...aha, sorry. Was I going on again my dear?"

"Don't worry, continue. You just looked so passionate about this, I couldn't help myself"

"Those forking, son of a nice ladies!!"

Your lover huffed. Boothill crossed his arms as he grumbled, letting you mess with his hair as he continued to complain. It was understandable, the IPC was incredibly annoying this time around. He wanted to get a drink at the nearby bar but some of the IPC subordinates were there and quickly tried to pick a fight with him.

Causing all of them to be kicked out. He grumbled more as he kept muttering things under his breath. A 'mother forking' here, a few 'shirt bags' there and of course 'fudge heads'

Your hands worked to braid his hair slowly, hoping it would calm him down like the previous times but it seems as though you'd have to use a different tactic.

You leaned his head towards you before quickly planting a kiss on his lips, effectively stopping his next words from coming out. He sat there in surprise, even after you pulled away, he just looked at you before quickly turning away with a chuckle.

"Well I'll be damned...got me there sweetheart"

"Reca-"

"And the camera movement! Why focus on the trees when the drama is happening with the characters!?"

"Rec-"

"Oh and don't get me STARTED on the lighting, like really? That kind of lighting for that kind of scene?"

"...Re-"

"OH AND DID I MENTION-"

You sighed, your attempts at even just soothing your partner's emotions coming to a fail. How could you do anything if he's going to criticize the movie you had just watched. Or was this just spite because you complimented one of the characters? You could only listen as Mr Reca continued his onslaught on the film's cinematography.

God you knew yourself the film was bad. This was meant to be a fun date night as you two cringed at the movies but your boyfriend was getting rather into it. Eventually after 5 minutes of this thorough review, you reach over, putting your hands gently on either side of his face, cupping his cheek. You quickly lean in to kiss him before he could utter another word.

When you pulled away he looked at you stunned for a second before grinning like an idiot. That god damn smile you fell in love with.

"Perfect! Brilliant! You see, THAT is what the lead should've done during that confession scene!"

You couldn't help but let out a laugh as he took your hands into his, as he praised your action, comparing it to the film. You will say though, your plan of stopping his review on the film was a success, even if now he was ranting about how great the "scene" was when you kissed him.

Aeons you only asked one question, you figured your boyfriend would know and now you're stuck listening to Dr Ratio yap about something, that you can't even tell has any correlation to your original question.

It's not that you minded, you loved learning new facts but the problem was...checking the time, if he didn't notice soon Dr Ratio would be late to his next lesson...and while that could be interesting and funny to see.

The oh so strict Dr Ratio late to his lesson. You didn't want that for him. But you didn't know how to stop him, when he gets into a lecture he really gets into it. So how could you...

Ah! You got it.

You stood up and walked towards him, tugging on his shirt so he'd turn his head towards you, you leaned up and kissed him. It was quick and simple before you pulled away.

"I-...what was that for?"

Oho, a blushing and flustered Dr Ratio is so much better then a late Dr Ratio.

"You have a class to attend remember?"

"...[Name], I don't go to school anymore"

"...Darling...you're a teacher"

When those words left your mouth you could see him mentally face palm as he quickly grabbed his items. He muttered out a thank you as he kissed your cheek, checking his phone to see how much more time he had left before rushing to his class.

Now Dan Heng wasn't really a yapper. He often listened to you yapping instead. And on the occasion he would shut you up with a kiss. It always made you flustered, and it wasn't even to really shut you up to be quiet. He just couldn't help himself, you looked so passionate in your topic he couldn't help but lean in to give you some affection before gesturing you to continue.

For once, you wanted to do it to him. To kiss him when he was rambling about something, make him flustered and just motion him to continue. But he wasn't one to easily ramble about something.

You eventually came up with an idea though, it wasn't exactly the best and it didn't exactly involve him rambling but...y'know if it works it works.

You asked him to read out the some of the texts to the databank, like a story book. He blinked at you confused but agreed. He read one, two and another until you finally put your plan into motion, you leaned up to kiss him. He was stunned for a moment as you pulled away.

"...was that your plan all along? To shut me up with a kiss?"

"...maybe"

He let out a small chuckle. Shaking his head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, to ask me to read out the data banks just so you could shut me up with a kiss"

You stayed silent for a bit with a blush, realising how silly the plan sounded now.

"...please continue with the databank talk..."

“I’m sorry”

Those words were the first thing uttered out of his mouth when you saw him again. When you opened the door and saw your boyfriend again.

“I’m…so…so sorry”

He repeats, holding your hand as he brings it up to his face. He looks at you, you can tell he’s holding back tears. Aeons you haven’t seen him since…well, the incident with the Charmony festive. You haven’t seen him since he was imprisoned, how he managed to get out?

You didn’t care, your boyfriend was back but…he didn’t look well.

“I-I didn’t…I thought…”

He struggled to get the words out, holding your hand as if you were a delicate doll and one wrong move would break you apart and he’d be alone again.

“…I just wanted the best for everyone…I-I promise…I…I didn’t think…about…all the details…I-I thought what I was doing was right but it wasn’t…aeons…I’ve hurt so many people haven’t I…”

You listened, hearing his apologies just spill out as tears threatened to follow suit. He couldn’t even look you in the eye anymore, he felt too ashamed too. How could he after all that he’s done?

Yet another apology was about to leave his lips until he felt soft ones fall on top of his. He froze, eyes widening in surprise as you kissed him.

How…

How could you…still give him affection? When he finally looked at you, you looked at him so gently, so kindly.

How

How did he deserve that? No he doesn’t deserve that, he doesn’t deserve the way you gently lead him into your house, sit him down and hug him…you’re…happy he’s okay?

He watched you carefully as you went to brew a cup of tea for the both of you…Aeons, he’s so lucky to have you.

Sorry for not uploading in while. Schools hectic and I’m a year away before I have to plan on colleges.

Anyways, I hope you all liked this one ^^

I tried to make sure the “kisses” were done at an appropriate time/scenario if that makes sense

I have another draft in the works so hopefully I’ll get it done eventually

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clrasecretdiary · 2 months ago

Text

I do, I do, I do | Spencer Reid x Reader

In which spencer proposes to you.

Absolutely tooth rotting fluff

Contents: Head over heels spence, pet names (honey, angel, darling...)

Warning: none!

a/n: title is a reference to "helpless" from Hamilton & there's a scene inspired by "the tortured poets department" (can u tell I love music?). This is my favorite fic I have ever written.

---

You and Spencer have been dating for 5 years now and, since last year, the team had begun asking the two of you - especially Reid - when were you guys going to “tie the knot”. You and Spencer had talked about it, both agreeing that you both did want to get married, but we’re not in a rush.

Now, you’re at Spencer's house getting ready for one of Rossi's famous dinners. When you look through the mirror, you see Spencer leaning against the door, watching you getting ready while he cuffs the sleeves of his black button-up shirt.

“You’re looking divine angel”

“Thank you honey” You say, turning to him “By the way, this is your last chance to kiss me, unless you also want to wear some red lipstick to Rossi’s”

He giggles, giving you a quick peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom to let you finish getting ready.

Later that night, you, Spencer and the rest of the team are all sitting at the dining table, talking and laughing. This is one of those few, but extremely special moments in which you guys forget all the horrors that happen at work and just are happy together.

You’re in an extremely exciting talk with Garcia about the latest fashion news, a topic that both of you really loved when you feel Spencer playing with your hands, something he usually did, so you did not pay much attention to it. But, at a point you felt him place the small ring he sometimes wore on your finger, specifically your left ring finger, the one you put wedding rings on. When you looked down at it, your heart almost stopped.

He leaned closer to whisper in your ear “It looks perfect on you” and then took it off, continuing to talk to Morgan about… Something. If you were to be honest, after that, you spaced out for a couple seconds, your heartbeat seemed so loud that it replaced all the other sounds around you.

—

2 months later, you’re remembering this moment as you get ready for a very suspicious dinner date with Spencer. Since what happened on Rossi's get together, you knew he was thinking about it and started your detective work to try and figure out when it might happen.

You had asked - no, begged Morgan and Penelope for any kind of clue. It's not that you wanted to know exactly when and where, you just needed a clue to know how to prepare yourself. After a while, you just gave up and decided to let it happen.

You became suspicious when Spencer asked Hotch for you both to have a day off, something you both rarely requested. He also bought you a Vivienne Westwood dress you had been eying for years now.

“Spencer Reid, you did not. Oh my god you're crazy” You said as you opened the box

“Did you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it, thank you so much” You say, leaning in to embrace him in a tight hug

“Maybe I can take you to dinner this Saturday, and you can wear it” He says between giggles because of how wide your smile was, oh how he loved pampering you.

“Sounds perfect honey”

Now, finally the day you had been so excited for. Could Spencer just have felt like giving you the dress? Yes, but for some reason you felt there was more to it. Maybe the way he spent the whole day trying to hide how nervous he is, the way he’s letting you take your sweet time getting ready, saying things like “don’t rush honey” or the mysterious call he received from Morgan earlier that day but you were sure something was going to happen.

You finish getting ready and get into the car with him, he’s showering you with compliments the whole way. When he stops the car something is off, this is not a restaurant, in the dark you can’t really make out where you are but it seems familiar.

He gets out of the car, going around and opening the door for you, helping you get out. He walks you to the entrance of the place and opens the door that you now have recognized to be the library you two loved and also the place we’re he finally asked you out on a date after years of secretly-not-so-secretly being in love with you. Only now, there was a small round table there, with lit candles and a table set for two.

The shock made you not realize that Spencer had now let go of your hand, as you look to your side, you're met with your boyfriend down on one knee and a small velvet box in his hand.

“Honey, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. You’ve been my best friend, the best thing that ever happened to me, you make all the crazy stuff we go through easier, because we’re goin through it together. There’s no one I would rather live life with than you, so will you marry me?”

“Spencer..” That’s the only thing you manage to say, shocked and feeling a kind of happiness you never experienced before. “Of course I will. Oh my god I love you so much” You say, pulling on his arm so he stands up and you kiss him deeply. Feeling an amount of love you never thought was possible.

Once you pull away, he places the delicate ring on your hand and kisses you again. And all you can think is how you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x bestfriend!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid fandom #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid x reader fluff

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yanderefarm · 1 month ago

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yandere pornstar

cw; choking, p in v, heterosexuals, nsft, murder, violence against women, dub con, dark content

ive had this one sitting in production for a minute but it's one of the darker ones in my opinion. i think he's so interesting and so fucked in the head. his yandere isn't as explicit in this but that's kinda on purpose. he's obsessed with you but he's good at hiding it especially because he's definitely also battling some internalized homophobia. like he will not examine how badly he wants to be your girlfriend no sir he'll just ask you uncomfortable questions and date women who he thinks are your type. and even then it doesn't matter if you don't like women because he'll just date women who remind him of you.

you live in a nice modern style house. the kind of house you'd usually find belonging to a billionaire who thinks having natural light is a personality trait. never in a million years would you be able to afford this place but a few months ago you'd found this guy looking for a roommate. the rent was dirt cheap, like the kind of dirt cheap that meant this was probably a scam. honestly, even after 3 months living there you were waiting for the rug to get pulled out from under you but as far as you could tell it was real and your roommate was just a nice guy.

he was a large guy, his chest was broad and he was extremely tall. he was pretty hot too, he had piercings and tattoos and he was always wearing tight obscure rock shirts or horror shirts. personality wise he was a bit of a loud obnoxious guy, he could act like a real frat bro but he was nice? nice enough. the only real quirk about being his roommate was the part about sex. apparently your roommate was in porn and would often record videos in his house. it was like living with a frat bro in effect, he'd have big networking parties and sometimes that turned into big networking orgies. sometimes you would come home to see him and a young woman half naked surrounded by a camera crew. it was weird. but rent was cheap and your room had good noise insulation so you adapted.

sometimes you would wake up in the morning and go to the kitchen only to find a random woman with messy makeup sitting there checking her phone. the first time it happened you offered to make her some pancakes and she appreciated the gesture. it was an odd morning routine but it was kind of nice making pancakes for your roommate and whatever girl he'd spent the night with so it became the norm. all in all living in this place was odd but comfortable, all it took was getting used to it. you even got used to your roommate's weird personal questions, the way he'd ask you about what kind of porn you liked or what kind of people you were into. it was awkward but you got used to it as just part of his personality.

eventually you started noticing the same girl at the kitchen table over and over again only with progressively more bruises and cuts on her. it's not really your place but you can't help but ask her if she's ok.

"oh! yeah don't worry it's from work."

"what kind of work do you do?"

"wanna see?"

she shows you her only fans account including her most recent post, a scene where she's in a familiar looking room with a masked man choking her out while they have sex. that's definitely your roommate in the video, it was definitely filmed in his room. your body couldn't help but react to the stimulation and you awkwardly excused yourself to eat breakfast. she didn't mind, in fact she said it was a compliment so atleast she was cool about it. still embarrassing.

it doesn't help that at some point she clearly told your roommate who's embarrassing personal questions start to shift. are you into choking? receiving or giving? do you think his girlfriend is hot? is she your type? you have to stop him from showing you more of their videos together because he's just way too eager.

in the end you do shamefully subscribe to her only fans. she's pretty for sure but you're more interested in your roommate and the scenarios they act out. she makes a lot of dark content; things like a kidnapper using her for his own entertainment and threatening to send the video to her parents, or a drunk friend breaking into her room, or a serial killer having fun with her before he kills her. in her older stuff before she started working with your roommate the guys who would bust into her room didn't have the right body type or demeanor to sell it. some of them acted like the cringiest internet doms. for some reason your roommate was so good at it.

you watched his arm flex around her throat while he held her in a headlock, her body bouncing on his lap while he looked at the camera. part of you wondered how good he'd look if he was in her position instead, his big muscles and large dick completely useless as his kidnapper made his eyes roll back. you really shouldn't have those thoughts about your roommate, you know that, but you can't stop fucking your fist to the thought of him. he's straight, nothing will ever come of it.

for the sake of your cheap rent and comfortable room you just pushed your feelings down only letting them out late at night into a bunch of tissues. that's until you come home one night to the living room dark and a tripod set up in front of the couch. that's not such an unusual sight, its not even the first time you've walked in on your roommate in the middle of work. it is the first time you've caught him actually balls deep in someone. he doesn't even take his hands off his throat when he looks at you with a stupid smile.

"hey, welcome home."

you were trying so hard to look anywhere else. "sorry.. uh im-im gonna-"

"oh! hey, babes!" his girlfriend was also smiling at you now.

you were hard. why were you hard. why did he notice that you were hard. you watched his eyes flick from your hard on to your face and back again a wide smile cracking across his face.

"yo, you like what you see? wanna take a ride?"

you don't know how they both actually convinced you to do this, maybe you were hornier than you realized. your roommates large rough hands were stroking your heavy cock while his girlfriend was on her knees in front of you her tongue stuck out to catch every drop of precum. you leaned your head back against his shoulder and moaned as he squeezed your tip. you looked at him for a moment, your face flushing red as he gave you a confident smirk. his girlfriend wrapped her lips around your tip and began licking and sucking trying to drain you of every drop while your roommates hands squeezed your cock so firmly it felt like he was trying to push your cum out. you moaned louder this time, one of your hands gripping onto his forearms to steady yourself.

"baby, you should give him a nice reward for all his donations."

oh god he knew. of course he knew. his girlfriend pulled her mouth off your cock with a wet pop and moved onto her back. your roommate guided you onto your knees in front of her, his breath heavy in your ears.

"you ever do this before buddy?"

all you could do was shake your head, most people probably have never been in this scenario before either.

"gonna make you feel so good. gonna fuck her real nice."

he guided your large cock along her folds, rubbing it against her clit and soaking you in her juices. you watched as he pressed your tip against her hole and pushed it in drawing a loud moan from her. she was definitely a pornstar the way she reacted and played up your cock filling her, moans and arching her back and tightening her cunt. it felt good but you soon came to miss the feeling of your roommate's hands squeezing you as they instead moved to help guide your hips. he kept you at a fast pace until you were the one maintaining it yourself, hips drilling into her as hard and fast as you could.

"why haven't you cum yet? you like it don't you?" he grunted in annoyance. "here let's tighten her up, huh?"

he moved his hands over your own and wrapped them around her neck. it took you a moment to notice and you immediately tried to squirm and pull away.

"you know how much she likes it"

"mmmhmmm~ c'mon babes.. make me see stars..."

his hands squeezed around your own forcing you to choke her as your hips began to slow down a bit. you didn't know what you were doing, this seemed incredibly unsafe but his hands were stronger than yours. her pussy squeezed around you but the stimulation wasn't enough to keep you hard as your panic was more overwhelming. your hips stopped entirely when her face started to get red.

"stop! pl-please i want to stop!"

"i'll stop when she makes you cum."

you knew that wasn't going to happen but you didn't know what else to do. your hips picked up a frantic desperate pace as you tried so hard to feel good. there were tears splashing onto her reddening face as you began to cry and babble your apologies as best you could.

her eyes started to roll back and you still hadn't gotten any closer to cumming so with an annoyed huff your roommate pulled your hands off of her. she sucked in a gasp of air her entire body heaving as she could finally breathed. your roommate moved away from you letting you pull out and you crawled over away from them, sobbing.

"tch... guess you didn't like her that much huh?"

you couldn't speak just whimpering and rubbing your hands.

"poor guy..."

he easily lifted you in his arms and carried you to your bed. you thought he said something else but you didn't catch it as your body started to relax. you managed a small thank you before his figure disappeared.

you expected it to just be a weird story and an awkward breakfast but she never came to sit in the kitchen. you had finished making all the pancakes when the front door opened and your roommate walked in looking dour. he stopped when he looked at you, looking away from you then back.

he took a deep breath. "... she's dead."

your eyes widened and you felt your stomach churn.

"last night i brought her back to my room but she wasn't feeling well and i thought she was just tired... when i woke up she wasn't breathing."

you covered your mouth with your hand as tears flooded your vision. you moved to get your phone when your roommate grabbed your hand tight enough to hurt.

"you get it right? you killed her." you were forced to drop your phone which cracked on the tile. "i hid the body, made sure no one will ever know. I'm willing to help you cause you're my friend but you gotta be good."

you couldn't speak all you could do was slowly nod.

"thats a good boy."

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere ideas #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere drabble #yandere mlm

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springseasonie · 9 months ago

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Notice Me | LHC (M)

Friends to lovers

Summary: You and your friends go to a college party, and tonight is the night where you are finally going to try and catch your crush's attention, who also happens to be one of your good friends. He doesn't think that he thinks of you in that way, but what happens when he sees you with another guy at the party?

Warnings: sexual content, protected sex, auralism, guided masturbation (kinda), sensory deprivation, super vanilla, reader is legally blind (trust it's important 🙏🏾), long haired haechan, violence (minor fight scene), special appearances: Karina and Yunjin

Word count: 7,5k

Song recs: moment by Victoria Monet

A/N: wrote this on a random whim. Def not my best writing but oh well. Hope you guys like it. I will start working on request after this one I promise 🫶🏾 feedback is loved and appreciated

“Are you guys sure I don't look crazy?”

“Yes we're sure! Now let's go, we're already 45 minutes late and Mark is yelling at me in my messages!”

Karina grabbed your hand, pulling you into the frat house followed by your other best friend Yujin. A chill ran down your spine and also your legs, never having this much skin exposed. This was new to you– dressing in skimpy clothes and college parties. But that wasn't the only thing new to you. Having a crush is also very new.

The only reason you're even here is because of him. Haechan to be exact, who is a part of your friend group. He's the exact opposite of you– loud, cheerful, outgoing. But maybe that's why you like him so much. Opposites attract.

And that's why you're standing in the middle of the doorway, looking like a deer in headlights in the shortest skirt and tiniest top ever. Tonight was gonna be all about catching his attention. It was going to be about making him look at you like a woman and not a friend.

You walk through the crowd of people, their bodies constantly smashing yours. The constant bumping makes your glasses slide down your nose, making you fear that you may lose them. Most people think you're being dramatic when you say you can't see without them, but you're as blind as a bat.

Mark and Haechan soon come into view, standing in a circle with their other friends from the basketball team.

“But don't you guys remember- woah..” Mark turned his head, stopping mid sentence when he saw Karina, and Yujin walking towards them.

“Hey guys,” Yunjin said excitedly.

Everyone said their hellos, but you couldn't help but notice the way their eyes lingered on you, all except Haechan. He spared you one glance and one hello before going silent, sipping whatever it was in his cup. You felt yourself die inside, the way he was treating you like an acquaintance all of a sudden. Was it too much? Did you go too far?

“Sorry were we so late, it takes a long time getting ready,” Karina says, fixing her hair.

“I'm sure it did.” Mark is still eyeing you like you've said something weird. None of them has ever seen you like this. You're always pretty much covered up. Hoodies and leggings are your daily attire.

Mark turns his attention to you, scoffing in disbelief. “And look at you, walking in here looking like a sexy Velma.”

“Oh shut up, she looks good. Right Haechan, doesn't she look good,” Yujin inquires.

The male glances at you then back to Yujin then at Mark, whose brow is raised waiting for his answer. “You look…nice Y/N.”

Nice? That's it? “Thanks,” you say, hands glued to your sides.

Karina sighed, shaking her head at the dry response. “You guys suck at compliments,” she said. “Anyway, let's go get something to drink.” She took a hold of both Yujin and your hands, pulling you to the kitchen.

Eyes never left your figure since you walked in the building. There were other girls dressed just like you, but for some reason all attention remained on you, and you didn't like it. So used to being a background character in your own life, you'll never get used to attention.

“God you look hot, we did so good,” Yujin whispered to you, her voice slightly muffled because of the loud music.

“Do I? He didn't have much of a reaction,” you argued, a frown tugging at your lips.

“Everyone's been ogling at you all night, even Mark. You definitely look hot,” Karina reassures. “Besides, maybe you'll meet someone else here that you'll like. Haechan doesn't know what he's missing.”

“Yeah, honestly if he doesn't do anything tonight, you need to move on sister,” Yunjin adds. “Can't keep dwelling on the same guy for 3 years.”

But you don't want to move on. And if he rejects you, you know that you can't regardless. You'll still like him, because he's a good guy and always has been. There's probably nothing that could make you think anything less. Karina continued to pull you to the kitchen between the bodies when you suddenly bumped your shoulder into someone, causing them to drop something.

“Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-”

“It's no problem,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “No big deal. It was just my phone.”

You didn't even notice you lost the hold of Karina’s hand at this point, your attention being on the man in front of you. “D-did it break? I'll pay for it.”

“No, it's doing just fine,” he said, placing the phone in his pocket without sparing a glance. He eyed you up and down, his gaze undressing you right in front of him. “What's your name?”

“Y/N,” you answered, gulping slightly out of nervousness. “Yours?”

“Johnny.” Licking his lips, he narrows his eyes slightly while speaking to you. “You new around here? I've never seen you on campus before.”

“Well, I actually don't go here,” you say, words leaving your mouth a little too fast. “I have a couple of friends that do. They invited me to this party.”

“Cool,” he said. “Can I… get you a drink?”

Your eyes widened, a bit taken back by the sudden request, but you didn't disapprove of it at all. Johnny was cute, tall, had a nice voice and seemed like a nice guy. So why not take the offer? “Yeah, sure. That would be great.”

“Man, he sure is chatting her up,” Mark remarks, watching you and the unknown guy stand and talk while sipping on your drink.

“How can he not? She looks great tonight,” Yunjin comments. “Doesn't she Haechan?”

Haechan furrows his brows, side eyeing her as he man-spreads on the couch they're all sitting on. “Why me specifically?”

“Why not?” Yunjin shrugs.

Haechan rolls his eyes, looking down at his lap trying to focus on anything but the scene in front of him, but he can't help it. You did look good, you looked great. But for some reason he couldn't say it. His stiffness towards you when you came in was because of how different you looked. Haechan wouldn't say he had a crush on you , more so complicated feelings. He didn't yearn for you, but he wouldn't hate it if something sprung from your friendship.

Haechan knows that his female friends are attractive. Guys always talk about Karina and Yunjin, telling him that he should pursue them or sleep with them, that he's wasting his time being friends. He's never looked at them in that way, but with you it's a different story. You're easy to talk to, and you have lots in common with him. He also loves your glasses. It's something you don't like about yourself, but he thinks they make you look pretty. You've always been pretty to him, probably his exact type on paper. Someone who's smart, calm, a bit of a homebody, true to themselves.

But disregarding any of that, he didn't have a crush on you. He wasn't into you in that way, despite what everyone else in the friend group thinks. His eyes narrow watching you cross your arms, throwing your head back while laughing at something. “So funny,” he mumbled.

“You said something,” Yunjin asked.

“No.”

“Sure… you know, if you like her you should-”

“I don't like her. We are just friends,” he cuts her off.

Yunjin sighs, making her head. “Haechan you are fooling no one but yourself. I'll let you in on a little secret. Y/N has a crush on you,” she says, hoping that would help him open his eyes.

Haechan stays silent, expression remaining stoic and straight as he stares directly at the male putting his hand on your hip. That's when he feels a slight sting in his chest. The small ping of jealousy.

“How would you know that,” he says after a few beats of silence between them.

“Why do you think she dressed up tonight? God, use your brain.”

Before Haechan could respond, he watched as someone walked past you, bumping you on the shoulder. He watched as the drink fell out of your hand, almost like a cliche movie.

The liquid splashed all over the guy’s chest, but he didn't seem too upset. In fact, he looked happy to Haechan, especially when you dabbed the paper towels all over his chest

“God, I am so sorry,” he heard you say panicked. Just as soon as you thought you were done panicking someone else walked beside you, bumping you in the shoulder. You must've been getting bumped all night because your glasses fell.

“Shit,” you said. You dropped to your knees, feeling around the floor for your frames. “I-Im sorry can you please-”

You look up at Johnny, but you see nothing but a flash in your face. “J-Johnny?”

“God, has anyone ever seen you like this,” he laughed softly. “You're so hot, I could just-”

You heard a loud smack above you, followed by gasp and tons of commotion.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck are you,” you heard Johnny yell.

“She's looking for her glasses. Aren't you gonna help,” you heard a voice similar to Haechan say.

Johnny laughed, scoffing at the guy you couldn't see. “Is she your girl or something? You should keep her on a leash before I take her to my place and show her what a good time is.”

“Excuse me,” the other guy grumbled. You were still searching for your glasses, but from what you could tell, a group started to form around the 2 guys and yourself

“You heard me. Get your bitch or-”

A loud sound was heard coupled with oh’s and ah’s from the crowd.

You heard another sound. This time, it sounded like a punch. There was a fight happening, and you were on the ground still looking for your glasses. Just as you reached in another direction on the floor, you felt hands pull your body up.

“What the fuck was he thinking,” you hear Karina groan. She turned your body, placing your glasses back on your face. For the first time in a minute you can see, and you do not like what you see.

Haechan and Mark were currently trying to fight Johnny and his two friends. “What is going on? Why is everyone fighting all of a sudden?”

“Let's just get away from all this, and we'll tell you.”

You were pulled away, Karina and Yujin dragging you outside to the driveway away from the loudness of the party. “So what exactly is going on?”

“Okay, so basically-” Karina started to speak, but Yujin cut her off quickly.

“Everyone was watching you and that guy hit it off the whole time, but Haechan looked like he was gonna kill someone. So I said, you know if you like her you should tell her. And he was like I don't like her , we're just friends. Then he saw you trying to clean off that guy's shirt. Then your glasses fell and you got on the ground and-”

“I'm sorry, but what does that have anything to do with what just happened in there,” you say exasperated.

“Well when your glasses fell and you got down to look for them your-”

“Oh my God.” Karina looked at her phone shocked. You and Yunjin stood next to her to see the screen, and was immediately horrified. 6 different people recorded and took pictures of you looking for your glasses on the floor. Every post had people calling you names ranging from desperate to slut. You didn't realize at the time, but almost your entire ass was out, and your cleavage could be seen clearly.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “i'm going to kill myself.” You placed your face in your hands, covering the embarrassed expression.

“Yeah,” Yunjin said, lips pursed right after. “That's what happened.”

“Why did you guys let me do that” you whined.

“We were on the couch, surprised. We thought you were trying to seduce the guy, but then we saw him pull his phone out and everything went to hell,” she explains.

At this point you're pacing the driveway, trying to figure what to do about the party, the post, Johnny, Haechan, everyone. “Well now we have to leave,” you said. “We've been here for less than 2 hours and we have to leave.”

“Okay, well let me call them,” Yujin said. Just as she pulled out her phone, a voice was heard behind her.

“No need,” Mark said, making his presence known.

The three of you turned back to see them with their clothes messed up, cuts and bruises on their faces, and tired.

“Oh my God,” Karina says with her hand over her mouth. “Are you guys okay?”

“We're fine…well I'm fine. He's a bit..”

You look over at Haechan who's standing there with his hands in his pockets. You don't know what came over you, but you took a couple of steps towards him, anger filling your mind.

“Why would you do that,” you said. Your voice startled him, making him look up from the ground.

“Y/N I-”

“I had no idea what was going on, and you two getting into a fight scares me to death,” you told him. “How did you even get all the cuts on your faces?”

“Him and his friends had rings and stuff on,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Shit happens.”

There weren't many times Haechan has seen you upset. The last time you were this mad was when Mark accidentally deleted your essay from your laptop doing his homework.

“We have to leave right now,” you sighed, arms folded at your chest. “I won't know what to do if you get into another fight and you're already hurt like this.”

Without thinking, your hands reach up to his face, taking his chin between your fingers as you check his face for any other injuries that you can't see. Haechan thought he was crazy when the butterflies erupted in his stomach, but they erupted again when you looked at him with pity, like you cared about him. He hadn't felt that way in a long time. Getting attention from girls came easy to him, but none of the girls he's dealt with made him feel the way you do.

“I'll um..I'll get an Uber for us-”

“No I'll get it,” you said. “We're going back to my house, you can't take care of all these by yourself.”

There it was, more butterflies.

“We'll go back to Mark’s and help him out,” Karina said, side eyeing Yunjin.

Yunjin quickly nodded, picking up the message Karina was sending. “Yep! Absolutely! We'll see you tomorrow!”

“What? I don't need help. I'm a grown man,” he whined. Karina and Yunjin nudged Mark who didn't seem to understand what was going on, making the man look at them confused.

“Grown men don't get into fights at parties,” you snap. “We'll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Wait in the bathroom. I'm going to change super quickly.” You shut your door behind you, locking it before kicking your shoes off. Before walking to your room, you turn to Haechan who looks as stiff as wood. “You look uncomfortable.”

Haechan watched as you walked away from him, going to your kitchen instead of your room. You grabbed a mug, filling it with water. He's never been so uncomfortable with you, but right now he feels like he could explode. You look so good in your current outfit, the way your hips sway when you walk, the way the shirt hugs your chest. He feels like he shouldn't be looking at you like this, but he feels like he's the only one who should be allowed.

“Here.” You hand him the mug, looking at him in the eyes like usual.

Haechan gulps, forcing himself to stop, keeping his eyes on yours and not let the travel any further. “Thanks,” he says, taking it out of your hands.

“Take your shoes off and relax,” you say. “I'll meet you in the bathroom in 5 minutes.”

He watches you walk away, holding his breath until you shut the door behind you. “Fuck,” he sighs. The one thing he can't do is get hard standing at your front door. Haechan knows he wouldn't be able to explain that, let alone lie to you about it. The only thing he could do is sit in your bathroom like you asked, and wait for you to put normal clothes on.

But Haechan is only a man. When you walked into the bathroom with short shorts and a laced lined camisole, the only thing he could do was pray for his presumed innocence. Pray that he didn't make a fool of himself in your house.

You reached up in your medicine cabinet taking out the pain meds and supplies for his injuries. It took you 10 seconds to get everything out, but for him it felt like 10 years. The way the fabric rose as you lifted your arms, watching you lean your hips on the edge of the counter giving him the smallest piece of your ass to stare at. And the way your nipples poked through the shirt– he was going to pass out right then and there.

There's nothing Haechan wanted more than to get behind you, feel up on your body. Whatever you were planning for the party worked because now he can't keep his mind off of you, and soon, it'll be his hands. To think you wore that outfit for him, he never would've guessed it.

“I can change if you need me to,” you said softly, startling him.

“N-no you don't need to change,” he said, watching you take two pills of pain meds out of the container.

“Take these.” You handed him the pills, watching him drink them down as you leaned on the counter. Haechan was sitting on the toilet seat, so the sight of him taking deep gulps with his eyes closed was a treat to say the least. You shouldn't be eyeing him like this, but God, was he attractive, even with bruises and cuts. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Gotta wait for them to kick in first,” he joked, but there was no smile on his face.

You grabbed an ointment for his bruises, opening it and squeezing some on your fingers. Haechan watched you as you tended to his wounds, concentrating on not trying to hurt him. He loved the way you would bite your lip whenever you were trying to concentrate, he always did.

The silence was comforting for a while, but then his thoughts got the best of him. Both of you actually. Your chest was in his face, his eyes wouldn't leave yours. The less talking there was, the more sexual tension filled the air, so you needed to get rid of it. But your mouth moves faster than your brain and for some reason, you felt it was the perfect moment to come clean about your intentions with him.

“I have something to confess,” you said softly.

“What is it?”

“I wore that outfit for you tonight,” you said, fixing your glasses on your nose bridge.

He smiled to himself, but you didn't see. “I have something to confess.”

“Hm,” you hummed.

“I already knew that.”

You let out a soft gasp, laughter soon following. “How did you know?”

“Yunjin,” he said simply. You let out a sigh, shaking your head making him chuckle softly.

“That girl can't keep a secret to save her life.” You moved on from his bruise, now tending to the scratches on his cheeks. Taking your fingers you apply the cream on the scratches, making him wince. “I only have a little bit left. This is why you shouldn't get in fights Mr. Lee.”

“Well, I..” he hesitated. “I fought for you.”

For a second you felt your heart drop. The guy you liked for 3 years fought for you, and you had absolutely nothing to say. “Thank you” was all you could manage. “But…why?”

“He was…an ass.” Memories of the guy recording you why you were down struck his brain, pissing him off all over again. “He was treating you like some kind of sexual fantasy. And I don't like that.”

You frowned, remembering that videos and pictures of yourself looking for your glasses are now circulating the Internet. “Yeah…”

“And I didn't like the way he was touching you,” he said, wincing at the feeling of you putting the bandage on.

“You sound like a protective father,” you joke, trying to lighten the mood. “I appreciate you for defending me, but there's no reason to get hurt while doing it.”

“But I want to,” he says, making you pause. “Y/N, I think I like you.”

“I-I..uh..” You wanted so badly to say you liked him too, but now you were nervous. Your face was beating up, fogging your glasses. Be cool, be normal. “T-thanks..”

“Thanks?” Haechan laughs softly. “That's what I get for fighting.”

“No, that's not what I meant! I meant-”

“I know what you meant, and it's fine,” he reassured you. “I think I liked you for a long time, just didn't know if you felt the same way.”

“How long is a long time to you?”

“A couple months,” he answered.

You sighed, a slight wave of disappointment filling your chest. “I wanted you for 3 years.”

Haechan's eyes widened slightly, brows shooting up hearing your words. “3 years? Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I'm the kind of girl you befriend, not date,” you answered bitterly.

“That's not true.”

“All the girls you like are exactly like you. They're loud, adventurous, cool, hot, wear skimpy clothing,” you argued. “I'm just not your type.”

“Well that can't be true now, because it seems like you are exactly my type,” he stated.

“For now.” You started treating his last bit of scratches, scrunching your nose to keep your glasses from slipping again. “Why do you think I wore that outfit? I just wanted you to notice me.”

“But I noticed you. I do all the time,” he revealed.

“But it wasn't until tonight which made you realize that,” you added. And with that final comment, you finished tending to his wounds, placing the last bandage on his face. “I'm all done. If you wanna go home, I can-”

“No,” he said. Haechan placed his hands on the back of your thighs, his soft palms sending lightning through your body. “I'm staying here.”

You could barely think straight with him touching you, the hold on your legs just getting stronger and stronger, his thumbs pressing into your skin. That's when Haechan kisses up your clothed stomach softly and slowly, making your lashes and heart flutter as you watch him from above.

“Haechan, stop,” you sigh. “Y-you're not thinking straight.”

He stands up, his lanky figure looming over yours. You swear you feel dizzy the moment his cologne hits your nose. He pulls you closer, his pelvis on yours. You could feel his hard on sitting right on your aching cunt.

“I know you feel it,” he whispers. “I know you feel the tension here. And I know you feel how hard I am too.”

Gulping, you look away from him. This is everything you've fantasized about for the last 3 years, but something is telling you no. Something is telling you it's too good to be true. “Maybe..maybe we should wait.”

Haechan takes your chin in his bruised knuckles, lifting your chin to look at him, but all you can see are his pretty lips hovering over yours. “Are you sure you wanna wait? Because I'm not sure I can hold myself back for even a second.”

His free hand travels up your leg, his fingertips grazing the heat between your legs ever so slightly, teasing you even more. “You have no idea how pissed it made me feel seeing that guy touch and feel on you, knowing it should've been me.”

“That's why you fought him?”

The breathiness of your words almost made him spiral. You were breathing heavily, your chest pressed against his so turned on at every little thing he did.

“Mhm,” he mumbled. “Seeing you walk around in that tiny skirt knowing I couldn't have you..”

“You have me now..”

“You're right, I do.”

Haechan kisses you just as you imagined, soft and with care. He kept kissing you, each kiss making you feel high. His hands left your face and leg, grabbing a hold of your waist. You yelp, feeling your body be lifted onto the end of your sink, legs spread apart as he stands between them. His tongue entered your mouth, the kisses slowing down and lingering a bit.

Haechan places his hands on your sides, soon traveling to your chest. Hard nipples looking through the fabric, teasing him the whole time he's been in your house can finally be his. Haechan hooks his fingers on the bottom of your shirt, begging to pull it up when you grab his wrist, stopping him.

You pull away painfully slow, a strong of saliva still connecting your lips only for a second. “Can we go to my room?”

Haechan said nothing, just backing away from your body and pulling you off the counter. He pulled you to your room, still messy as always. He always loved your house, especially your room. Something about it felt like home. There's always little bits of you scattered throughout your space, whether it be homework, a brush, a mug, or even a sock. It doesn't matter how many times he comes over, it always feels the same.

But this time it felt a little different. He wasn't going to your room to hang out with the others, he was going to have sex with you. Going to make out with you, to be more than friends with you. This was going to change everything about your relationship with him, but it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was making you feel good.

Haechan sat on your bed looking up at you, mirroring his previous actions in your bathroom. You were more nervous than ever now with him sitting there expectantly. Fixing your glasses, you placed your hand on his shoulder, climbing on his body to straddle him.

“Can I take your top off,” his whispered peppering soft kisses down your neck.

You nod, giving him permission. Haechan hooks his fingers on the hem of your top, lifting the fabric off your body. He feels like he's 16 again, like this is his first time seeing a woman's chest, except it's yours, which is much more important. He starts kissing you slow, his hands naturally finding their way to your chest. You shuddered at the way his cold palms molded your breasts, shaky breaths leaving your mouth and into his every once in a while.

Haechan started kissing down your jaw, then to your neck, making tilt your head to give him more access. His hands leave your chest for a bit, placing them on your back pulling you closer to his body. Your nipples touch the cold of the print on his graphic tee, stimulating you more while he leaves wet messy kisses all over your skin.

He kisses lower and lower, lips now pressing against the top of your breast. You look down at him, the most dreamy expression ever when his eyes meet your framed ones. You look so cute in them, but still the sexist person he'd ever seen in glasses.

You let out a soft moan feeling his tongue swipe against your nipples, the feeling being foreign after being on such a long dry spell. He licks the stiffened peak again, then sucking it while staring up at you.

“So pretty,” he whispers on your skin.

You're soaking at this point, his touch and voice bewitching you. Haechan holds you tight, sucking your nipples softly. His eyes hung low, the stare making you squirm. You watched as his brows furrowed hearing your soft whines, his hand gripping the fabric on your hip. He releases your breast from his mouth with a soft pop, the cold air hitting the wet peak making you shiver.

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

Your eyes dart to his face, glasses slipping down your nose bit by bit. “I..”

Haechan smirks, his soft lips kissing your chest once again while his hands roam your body. “I know you do,” he whispers. “You're the most obvious person I know.”

Haechan slips his hands to your lower back, his fingers dipping lower and lower into your shorts. He can't help himself, squeezing the flesh in his hands like a stress ball making you push into his palms more.

“I want you to show me,” he says, words muffled in your neck while he kisses it.

“S-show you,” you question.

“I want you to show me what you do when you make yourself feel good,” he adds. “Is that okay?”

You were intoxicated in your home and he's barely touched you yet, but his voice and eyes did something else to you. You needed more. You nodded, lips parting slightly when he takes his hands out your shorts.

“Stand up.”

You remove your leg from his side, removing yourself from his lap. Haechan stood up, body so close to yours you could feel the heat emitting off of him. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt, lips curling into a small smile. “Wanna help?”

You nodded slowly, hands lifting his shirt above his head. His eyes disappeared behind the fabric but once it was off him, they connected with yours once again, making your core clench around nothing. You tossed his shirt on the floor, eyes trailing down his soft but toned body. You've seen him shirtless plenty of times but this was different. This felt different.

Haechan's gaze lingered on you as he unhooked his belt, the sound of the metal clinging sending a shiver down your spine. He let them fall, showcasing black underwear to you. Haechan leans down, kissing you softly as he steps out of the pool of fabric, groaning in your mouth softly when your chest touches his.

“Now,” he says softly, pulling away from you. Taking your hand, he pulls you to the side of your bed, climbing onto the mattress. Haechan plops down, leaning his head on your headboard in the dreamiest way possible. “I need those off” – he points to your shorts – “and you right here.” He pays the spot between his legs.

Your fingers dig into your waistline, hesitating for what feels like an eternity. Your heart was beating rapidly, with every second feeling like years. Haechan watched you pull the last piece of decency off your body, soaking in every bit of bare skin he laid his eyes on. He needed to feel you, touch you, eat you. But first he wanted to see you.

Climbing on the bed, he sensed how anxious you were, wrapping his arms around your body once you settled between his legs. And just like that, you were like putty in his hands, immediately melting in his touch letting him run his hands all over your skin, groping at you wherever he liked.

“Spread those legs for me pretty,” he said into your ear, smiling when you obeyed. His fingertips trail lines in your hips, soon moving down your legs. He could barely control himself, hands moving closer and closer to your soaked core, the actions making you bring your knees together.

“Shit,” you mumbled, face hot as you witnessed your glasses fog bit by bit.

“Do you always wear your glasses during sex” he asked, kissing behind your ear softly.

“Y-yes, why?”

“I want you to take them off for me.” Haechan laughs to himself softly when you sit up, turning to him with a confused expression.

“But then I-I can't see,” you say, a slight whine in your voice.

“I'll do that for you.” Haechan removes the frames from your face gently, folding them and placing them on your lamp table. “I want you to focus on how you feel and what I say. Can you do that for me?”

His milky tone, the way his lips brushed on your earlobe, his soft touch between your thighs. You'd do anything he asks for in a heartbeat. “Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he praises. “You know what to do.”

Haechan watched you start rubbing your clit slowly, biting his lip softly. His hands continued rubbing your thighs, soothing you as you leaned into his chest more. You feel his heavy breathing on your back, your lids going heavy once you insert two fingers inside.

Haechan was rock solid at the point, watching your fingers move in and out of you, the squelch your pussy made being music to his ears. “Fuck,” he mumbles in your ear.

You clench around your fingers to his voice, the breath tickling your ears making you squirm between him. Your eyes are closed, so you don't see the way he's looking beside you, watching the way your face twitches at every feeling or sound. His stomach flips when you gasp at the sudden feeling his hands on your chest, small moans escaping to the added pleasure.

“I love that sound,” he says, the sound of your pussy getting louder when you finger yourself faster.

“S-stop,” you stutter.

“Are you embarrassed,” he chuckles softly, nipping at your ear, not taking his eyes off the scene between your legs. You gulp and nod, a small whine spilling from your lips.

“God you're so cute.” Haechan removes one hand off your chest, creeping his fingers back between your legs. “Almost as cute as this pretty clit right here.”

“H-haechan..”

He started rubbing small, slow circles, your moans increasing in volume. You kept fingering yourself, but you needed more. You needed his cock, his mouth, his pretty hands. The thought of him finger fucking you till you came stimulated you, making your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers.

“Tell me what you're thinking about.” He had pressure on his fingers making a whine leave you plump lips. “What do you want from me Y/N?”

“I..I want you Haechan,” you answer breathlessly. “I want you to make me cum.” Your hand pumps your hole faster, wetness coating your fingers running down your hands. His breath tickles your neck as he begins to grind on you. Eyes closed, head falling back on his shoulder, you let your hips move on their own. You're so close, the feeling of his chest rising on your back aiding to the pleasure throughout your body.

“I want you inside me,” you moan softly, brows furrowing.

“How bad,” he teased, a smile on his lips. He rubbed your clit faster, starting to feel your legs shaking. Your moans increased, whines and whimpers freely falling from your lips. He knew you were going to cum.

“So, so bad,” you whispered. “I-Im gonna cum haechan..”

“Cum for me,” he whispered. “You're so pretty when you cum.”

You pumped your fingers harder and faster, the sound of your wet hole filling his ears. You came around your fingers, pussy squeezing tight on the digits inside you. Haechan kept rubbing your clit, the feeling of his fingers on the sensitive bud making you shiver on his shoulder.

“There you go Y/N,” he said softly, his other hand rubbing your thigh. “Let it out. God, you make the prettiest sounds.”

You pulled your fingers from between your legs, hand resting on your other thigh as you breathed heavily against his body. That's when you feel his hand take yours, bringing it to his mouth. Haechan wrapped his lips around your fingers, sucking your arousal off your fingers.

“Haechan,” you whined, hanging your head low in embarrassment. He chuckled, taking your face and turning it to him. He kisses you softly, the taste of your own cum on his lips. “I need you so bad,” you mumbled on his lips.

“Lay down for me okay?”

You nodded, lifting yourself from his body, allowing him to move from behind you. You reached for your glasses, putting them on, clearing your blurry vision. When you looked back up, Haechan was pulling his underwear off his body, hard on so big, it hit his stomach.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled to yourself. He was big. Bigger than you imagined, and it makes you wonder where he was hiding it all this time under his skinny jeans.

“Staring isn't very polite, you know.”

His voice broke your thoughts, making your eyes snap back up to his face. Dark locks of hair fell in his eyes, that same teasing grin on his mouth. He looked like a dream– bruises and bangs on his face, knuckles red, but still hot. He crawled onto the bed, yanking your body lower on the bed by your ankles.

“You have some condoms,” he said, eyes scanning your naked body.

“I-In my drawer.” You point to your bedside table, eyes following him as he bends over you to open the drawer. You were practically drooling at this point, the thirstiest you've ever been and it was starting to become too real to be true. Haechan takes an unopened packet from the drawer, shutting it right after. Your eyes don't leave him as he sits back up and opens the plastic, a gulp going down your throat in anticipation.

“If at any point you wanna stop, just let me know,” he says, sliding the condoms on. Haechan watches your facial expressions and body language. You were excited, he could tell. But you were also the most nervous he's ever seen you. “Listen,” he says softly. His fingertips glide on the inner side of your thighs, hands pushing your legs up by the back of your knees. “I want you to look at me the whole time. Can you do that?”

The softness in the way he spoke felt a bit unfamiliar to you, you immediately softened nodding at his request. “Y-yeah.”

Haechan licks his lips, lining himself with you. A small gasp fell from your lips feeling his tip stretch you open. He pushed himself in a bit more, watching your face slowly contort silently. Haechan held your legs up to your chest, eyes never leaving the view of his dick disappearing between your legs.

“Fuck,” he sighed, the feeling of your tight pussy almost making him cum right then and there. He looks back up at your face, your eyes are closed, head resting on your pillow. Your glasses are crooked due to the position of your head, but it's sexy to him.

Haechan starts thrusting in you slowly, eyes shut as he moves taking in the feeling. But you keep looking at him. You keep staring at the way the muscles in his arms slightly flex, you stare at the way his chest moves after every deep breath he takes. He must've known you were staring because he opens his eyes, staring at you fucked out face.

“Youre.. you're so big,” you mumbled, voice shaky from the pleasure.

Haechan opens his eyes, staring down at you through his bangs as he thrusted deeper. “Keep saying things like that, and you'll boost my ego.” He snaps his hips into yours, his dick reaching further into you. Haechan speeds up his movements, his hands gripping your legs tighter, pushing them closer to your chest. You tried you best to look at him, but with every movement, you felt your vision go blurry with pleasure. Your moans and whimpers filled the room accompanied with his grunts and the sound of the bed.

Haechan lets go of your legs, letting himself fall onto your body. He held himself up, one hand on your hip and the other holding himself. You let your eyes close for one second, but Haechan is quick to slap your hip, making you open your eyes. You stare at him, raising your hand and fixing your glasses with your brows furrowed at the feeling of him inside you.

“Don't look away,” he moans softly. “Keep looking at me..keep those eyes on me.”

And you did, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. Haechan lets out a small hiss feeling you squeeze around him.

“Faster,” you moaned shakily, breath tickling his nose. Haechan melts when your face twists in pleasure, brows scrunching with every moment.

“Fuck, right there,” you whimpers, pulling him closer. Haechan kisses you, you both moaning and grunting into each other's mouths.

“You like this Y/N? You like when I fuck you good,” he groans, on your mouth.

“Yes, yes.” You nod fast, eyes stuck in his as he plows you into the mattress. The sound of your skin colliding, bed creaking, moans filling the air over stimulated you along with his raspy voice, saying the dirtiest things in your ear.

He reaches up, removing your glasses from your face and throwing them somewhere on your bed. Too fucked out to even respond, you shut your eyes letting him bury his head in your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin.

“I'm so close,” you moaned, legs starting to shake on either side of him.

“Cum for me,” he grunts. “I want you to cum around my cock right now.” He reaches down between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit fast. Haechan has had sex a million times, but nothing could compare to the way you felt squeezing around him. The way your moans rose in pitch when you came, the way you said his name.

“Haechan,” you whispered, nails pressing into the skin on his back. “Oh my God, fuck..”

He kept fucking you into the mattress, chasing his own high right after yours. “Just a little more baby, fuck..”

You opened your eyes, brows furrowed as you watched his body rise, hands grasping your waist tight. His thumbs pressed into your sides, holding your body close to his while he plowed into you. Even blurry, he was a dream to look at. His hair hung in his face, biting his lip as he chased his orgasm.

But better get, you looked like an angel underneath him. The sweat on your body, your face, hair, sounds. Perfect. His eyes followed your hand, watching them as one went to your nipple and the other went between your legs.

“Fuck,” he kissed. The tight feeling in his stomach started getting tighter. Haechan’s jaw dropped, brows scrunched as he came, a strangled moan escaping his throat.

Haechan stopped thrusting, pulling out of you after a couple of seconds. The both of you sat in the silence of heavy breathing, his hands still on your waist. You reached to grab your glasses, finding them on the blanket and putting them on lazily. That's when you look at Haechan, his blushed cheeks, sweat on his forehead, trying to catch his breath.

“Are you-”

“Can we-”

Both of you stop and look at each other. The air starts to feel heavy for some reason, the silence giving you time to think about what you were going to say. Can we go on a date?

You gulped at the way his eyes won't stop staring into yours. His lips part, eyes narrowing when he rubs his thumbs on your sides, soothing your very obvious nerves.

“Say it,” he says softly,

“Can we… be more than friends?”

You blinked, Haechan staring at you with a blank expression. Suddenly he began laughing, hanging his head low after you spoke.

“What,” you questioned, heart sinking into your stomach.

“Why did you ask me that,” he chuckled, grinning from ear to ear at you question.

You swallowed, expression hardening at his words. “Did I say something wrong?”

Haechan noticed the tremble in your words and immediately stopped laughing, realizing that you were very much serious. Haechan leaned down, his body on yours and head in your neck. He kissed your skin softly, one hand holding him up while the other caressed your skin.

You watch him, feeling yourself melting into his soft touch. His fingertips dragged along your abdomen, sending chills down your spine. “H-haechan,” you said softly. “Answer my question.”

Instead of answering you, he moved from your neck to your lips. He captured you in a soft, sweet kiss, turned deep and passionate. Something about the way he kisses you at the moment feels romantic, as if he's trying to communicate his feelings without speaking, but you need him to say it. You need him to speak to you.

Haechan pulled away from you, his eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “Did that answer your question,” he said softly.

You shook your head, making him laugh softly. “Answer.”

He smiled, licking his lips before speaking. “I can be whatever you want me to be.”

“Well..” you paused before looking up at him, eyes staring into his soul. The silence felt like an eternity between you both, but it soon disappeared when you spoke.

“Can you be mine?”

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