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biteyoubiteme · 2 months ago

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lemon cake

lemon drop!soobin x angel cake!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis In a world where everything is sugary and sweet, it is always fun to throw in a little twist. Quiet and tired Lemon Drop finds himself struggling to keep up with the day to day of single-parent life. Knocking on Angel Cake's door, begging for more than just help, might take care of two of his problems. ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings 🔞!!! fairytale au, lemon drop!soobin, angel cake fem!reader, slight spit kink, spit and cum as flavored aphrodisiacs, not really but chubby reader implied bc angel cakes body is soft and described as cake (skin indents and takes a few seconds to bounce back), mentions of masturbation (f! and m!), hand job, oral (m!rec), virginity loss, breeding kink, corruption kink, biting, cumplay/eating/snowballing, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 8.9k . ݁₊ ⊹

၄၃ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: new emotion- the aces an: ive never been so happy to post a fic before! this was so very fun to work on with my moots. im honored to have worked alongside some absolutely incredible writers- actually wild that you let me in on this when you guys are just so amazing im a little dazed lol. and it was so fun to read everyones fics early and go back and forth on little ideas we found would benefit each others works. this was one of the best things to do and im so thankful for mae and her mind,,go read everyone elses fics pls pls pls they are so so good. anyways love my friends <333 [m.list] [strawberry shortcake m.list]

Angel Cake loved a routine. Most things could be broken down into a neat list of checkpoints, a simple to-do list set up like the recipe for a good day. She would get to the store early, prep the tables, and make sure all the clothes were neat enough for when she opened the door. Sometimes a new shipment would come in and she would take her time checking off every box as she added the new items to her inventory. She loved folding all the shirts up, stacking them, lining them all so neatly, and keeping them color-organized.

It wasn't until an hour later that the store officially opened for the day, the sweet buttery scent from the town's shops wafting in through the doors. Angel Cake would sit behind the register looking through catalogs to pick out new things to order, helping customers when they filtered in and lulled around the shop admiring her cute displays. Almost an hour after opening is when her favorite customer arrived. “Strawberry!”

She loved to shop, everything she wore was hand-selected by Angel, perfectly picked out from the catalog with her in mind. Even the pale blue shirt worn by Kai was bought within these four walls. The sweet blueberry boy gave a shy wave, apple dumpling, strawberry’s little sister, running right past the two of them to her favorite section in the store.

“I brought you your share from the bake sale,” the cream-colored box carefully held in hand. It was one of the small things Angel looked forward to, the soft cake and cream, the first bite of sweetness. “They took a little longer than expected to make but they turned out so good,”

Kai flushed a deep shade of blue, the color only highlighted by the blue strands of his hair. Even Strawberry was blushing, her eyes tacking onto apple dumpling to avoid looking at angel cakes questioning glance. “Berry why don't you help Dumpling pick out a new school dress, I see angels gotten some new ones in,”

It was all it took for Kai to follow after the giggling child, leaving Angel and Strawberry alone. “You won't believe the weekend I've had,”

“Was it beomgyu? I hear he went to the market for the first time in a month and acted so bitter over Cherry’s jam,”

“No no nothing like that, I just- berry and I-” If strawberry could get any more color to shade her cheeks she would, her flush traveling to her ears, “We kind of…”

“You kind of what?” Angel Cake had known for years that Blueberry had a crush on Strawberry. They spent most of their time together, strawberry baking and blueberry strumming his guitar. It wasn't news to Angel that either of them had fallen into a relationship without much effort.

“We kissed and then it wasn't kissing it was- well-” she was struggling to find the right words, the images of the night before flashing in her eyes as she stumbled through the words. “It was so much more than kissing, the both of us were just insatiable and he just- he tasted so good,”

“Tasted? Like when you kissed?” Angel tilted her head as if that would tip the right information into the right spot for her to understand. Tasting someone did not necessarily sound all too fun, she could picture the underwhelming flavor of blueberries and didn't find it appealing at all. Angel was never really a fan of how plain they could be, although she would never confess that to Strawberry who couldn't stop herself from remembering the flavor as if it was spilling right back onto her tongue.

“Not exactly-” but it was all Strawberry could say before the two of you turned to the sound of apple dumping giving a shout.

“Meringue!” the little blonde, dimpled-cheeked child, giggling as she ran to meet her friend, exclaiming just as loud, “Dumpling!”

Everyone in all of Strawberry Land knew exactly how close the two little girls were. Spending hours joined at the hip, playing games, singing songs, and laughing enough to fill the sweetest of souls with the happiness shared between the two of them. Most times lemon meringue would find herself sprawled out on the living room floor, coloring with apple dumpling while angel cake and strawberry tested recipes in the kitchen. The two little girls being the best test testers, never afraid to say when they didn't like something.

Most times meringue was over because Blueberry was the perfect babysitter, teaching the girls how to play the guitar, and finding fun ways to keep them entertained. He kept them busy while Lemon Drop, meringue’s dad, was off at the local college teaching. Lemon drop soobin was always a bit bitter, the slight tinge to his personality always brought forward with his obvious sleepiness. His under eyes slightly bruised from the late hours he spent bent over books, grading papers, and chasing after his little sweet tart. Rumpled shirt half untucked from his pants, butter blonde hair mussed, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Angel Cake could feel her stomach flutter at the sight, he looked unbelievably warm, the kind of person you wanted to slip into and cuddle up. His lazy blinking eyes tracked around the sweet cream shop, deeply breathing in the sugary air.

Soobin wanted a nap, the warmth of the shop hugging him the second he breached the doorway. It was the favorite shop on the strip, the scent pulling him in amongst the rest of the fruity temptations. Buttery warmth hinted with vanilla cream beckoned him in that direction every time. It was easy to get lost in thought and follow his footsteps right to your door without realizing it when he followed his instincts. With an excuse to step inside, he could settle his craving without shyly backing away from the doorway, tinted pink from the recurring embarrassment of finding the shop irresistible. It was okay when Meringue was with him, but when he was alone, gazing through the sugar glass window to see angel cake folding or hanging clothes, it was a little more awkward.

He wasn't particularly known as the fondest resident in strawberryland. He was known to fight back, the sting of his arguments leaving people with a bitter impression of him. It was something that was expected of the debate professor, teaching the people how to stand up for themselves and find the proper form to an argument.

Angel found him to always cut back the sweetness of the people who took his class, leveling out their need to please in a way that she knew people who didn't take his class found caustic. Working in such a closed shop she heard more than anyone else did in the street market, the stalls so open the voices carried over to one another. No secrets could be kept when the air picked up every sound, enough so that anyone could get burned when gossip traveled. It made her shop the gossip harbor, the walls soaking in the secrets enough so that it set the illusion that nothing would make it to the unknowing subject of conversation.

Just last week she heard the run-around rumor mill turning out stories of frosty puff and gingerbread taehyun. The occasional talk of lemon drop, he's just so sour, listing ways to prove someone wrong. Can't we all just get along and not fight? He must be teaching that poor sweetheart of his such nasty things.

It had made Angel roll her eyes. Who cared if he was giving the rest of Strawberry Land a backbone, it was needed in such a basket of softies. But Angel knew she was in the same boat, still a product of her environment, soobin had moved back after finding himself in a big city amongst the rich and decadent. Nothing like the homegrown bunch he had been born from.

Strawberry pinched angel's arm, her soft flesh dimpling at the draw to attention. It always took a second for Angel's skin to bounce back from a tight hold, easily squashed like the cake from which she was named. “It wasn’t just kissing it was- I don't even know how to describe it, we tasted each other in places I never thought to before,”

“Like where?” it felt absurd to think of putting angel's mouth anywhere besides the mouth of a lover, maybe the back of their hand. Strawberry fiddled with the loose ribbon she used to tie a bow on the shortcake box, tugging the strand until it neatly fell away. Even for her name, Angel had never seen strawberry so pink, from ear to ear as she swallowed. “Down there,” her eyes flickered down to Angel's zipper, popping up just as quickly to see if Angel understood what she was saying.

“Berry!” Angel whisper-shouted, shocked, and intrigued all at once. Angel wasn't too dense, she understood to some extent how it worked but never thought about their being a flavor, or even that your mouth was used for more than just kissing.

“Angel, I don't even know how to describe how good it tasted- better than this,” she held up the short plump cake, the sweet cream swirled on top and donned with a little strawberry heart. “And it's hard to taste any better than this, I mean it's more addictive than sugar,”

It seemed hard to believe, especially when Angel sunk her teeth into the light dessert. The warmth of the sponge still lingers in between the ripples of fresh fruit. The frosting was her favorite part, dotting her upper lip in the clear mark of overindulgence, the creamy whips making her softly moan.

The sound echoed in the shop, just loud enough to be heard under the giggles of the girls, talking out planned outfits to wear to school tomorrow, but it didn't catch Kai’s attention, only catching the ear of lonely Lemon Drop Soobin. He watched the way Angel wiped at her mouth, sucking her thumb clean before rolling her eyes, “Hard to believe,”

“Well, you won't know until you try,” Strawberry muttered, closing the box of sweets and tying the bow back up.

“Ew no, I hate to say it but blueberry is kind of a flavorless fruit-” Angel Cake started looking over to where soobin and Kai stood. Angel stuttered in her speech, cheeks flushed and shoulders straightening under Soobin’s piercing gaze. Strawberry not even noticing the hiccup, “No! Not with Kai, anyone else but him, I mean it, Angel, it was something else,”

Soobin quirked a brow, Angel's cheeks deepening in color. It didn't help that he was looking at her with her train of thought derailing in the direction of a lovely open pool of crisp lemonade. She could just smell the citrusy freshness that followed after him, the scent that made her perfectly aware of how different they were, and forced her to face the recollection that she wanted him in a horribly needy way.

She wondered exactly what he would taste like, obviously lemony, but would he be more sweet or sour? Fresh or bitter? He was the opposite of sweet little blueberry who was now clapping at the choice of dresses the girls had picked out. Lemon drop was a streak of verbena-washed clarity in a town full of half-baked sweet tarts. She wanted him to wash over her and teach her things she never would have known without him, open her pallet to more than just the sweets found in a shop just like Strawberry said. Because as much as she talked down on the people around her, she was just as close to them, still grappling with the niceties of sprouting out in a field of pushovers. But she had time to bake, enough so that she knew she wanted more than just a dollop of sweetness to finish her off. She needed the honesty of someone who would be just as bitter as she was sweet, someone who had left and come back, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and had achieved it themself. Only now all she could think about was what exactly you had to do for a taste of anything at zipper level.

“You know, I heard he's looking for a sitter, especially because Kai is helping me so much at the stand. It's great to have Dumpling around but sometimes following her and meringue is a bit much,” Strawberry added, looking right past soobin to where Blueberry was fussing over apple dumplings shoelaces.

“Really?” soobin had broken eye contact to tend to little lemon meringue, carrying the outfits she's picked out in one arm and pushing back his hair with a ruddy knuckled hand. She watched the two of them like she was memorizing her favorite recipe, taking the time to run over every line, connecting the little bullet point dimples the two of them shared. Even when Strawberry took her bunch with her out the door, leaving the two of them alone at her counter, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her features.

“Don't you just love it, angel? It's so bright and pretty and does a perfect twirl when I spin,” meringue is nearly a spitting image of lemon drop, the only difference is her hair doesn't have the classic butter blond but a sun-washed version, the roots starting as a toasted tan color before fading out. But even then it's impossible to say they weren't related. Holding onto the edge of the checkout counter, hand still fluttering over the dress she's picked. Soobin reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, grinning with the edge of his mouth as he watches her look up at Angel with her big brown eyes, dimple so deep in his cheeks she's sure she can swim in it. “It's perfect,” Soobin mutters.

For someone who has been pushed into the bitter pile by the rest of the town, Angel finds it hard to believe someone like the man before her could be anything but comforting. It was in his name, lemon drop, so nostalgic, in and of itself an acquired taste.

“I know you think that but I was asking angel,” meringue scrunched up her nose in that little kid's way, the light dusting of faded freckles tucked into the creases like a bunched blanket.

“I love it, would it even be a good dress without a perfect twirl? It's why I make sure all of the dresses in here look good when you spin,” Angel folds the items neatly sliding them into the gift bag. “Here you go,”

Soobin passes out the exact change, hand brushing angels as he lets the money go, surprised by the warmth radiating off the soft contact. Just as comforting as the alluring scent in the streets he shouldn’t have expected any less. Meringue is elated to be handed her bag giggling to herself as she thanks Angel and her dad. “Next time I see you I hope I can see your perfect twirl and soob- lem-” Angel stumbles over the right name, never really having spoken to him personally besides a few light greetings in passing.

“Soobin is fine,” his grin was a mix of amusement and arrogance that whipped Angel around in a mix of unrelenting jealousy. The ease with which he found himself walking through life was something angel only wished to grasp, and here he was, with confidence written into a single smile.

“Okay, soobin, if you ever need help after five I'm always free to watch her when you need work done. Strawberry was just telling me you could use a hand, "Angel says it so innocently, eyes blinking up to him in a way that he can't think about too closely. It takes everything in him not to look down at the very hand she speaks of, even if it's metaphorically. Because he could use a hand, specifically hers wrapped around him revealing the stress he was feeling in ways that he knew only she would be able to take care of. But it was too much to ask in a place like this, too much to think about when he was in public, and certainly too much when his child was waiting by the door for him to take her to her playdate.

“Thank you I could- um- really use the help,” he didn't know what to do with his hands, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose only for them to slip right back down, hand running through his already messy hair. It was the most angel had ever seen him discomposed, more like a stuttering school boy instead of a college professor who made school boys cower.

“Okay just let me know, you know where you can find me,”

It was only a few days later when soobin came by to ask for Angel's assistance, meringue hot on his heels as he shuffled into the shop right before closing. “I know it's last minute but Kai was supposed to take her to Strawberry’s house but turns out he cant and-”

“It's okay,” Angel chuckled, “I know the two of them have been so finicky with plans recently it's no problem at all. I just need to make sure the doors are locked up and then we can go,” and so they waited while you twisted the key, checking the knob twice, and shuddering from the slight chill in the air. In only a few days, Angel knew the gingerbread cobblestones would be coated in the thin glaze of the first frost, dollops of shoveled snow pushed up against her shop looking like misplaced piles of spilled frosting.

Lemon meringue ran ahead, her ballet flat-covered feet skipping between each stone like a made-up hopscotch map only she could see. Instinctively, Angel walked a step closer to soobin, bumping his arm with every other step they took toward his house at the end of the lane. Angel knew this was one of the reasons why he was accepted more than his other bitter labeled fellows, he lived in town, and went to town meetings even if he didn't add to the majority opinions. If he lived down on the outskirts, house kissing the woods or worse buried deep inside them, he wouldn't have a chance of being accepted in the way that he has been. It gave Meringue the best opportunity to find friends and build a relationship with the community before they ostracized her for being anything but sweet because of the name she carried.

Pushing open the door to their modest place, Angel was surprised by the solace laced into the brown woods and honey-colored accents thrown around the house. Stacks of leather tomes litter tidy shelves, and little dolls, and figurines placed by meringue are known only because of how high each item reaches. It smelled of freshly picked lemons and the cozy baked smell of warmed sugar. It was just late enough for the sun to be setting in through the gauzy curtains, casting the room in a warm golden glow. Angel wasn't to bask in the light, curl up like a kitten on the plush couch, tucked in with the knitted blanket tossed over the back like an invitation.

Meringue shot forward, hand wrapped around Angel's wrist tugging her past the living room and to the overly saturated room that could only belong to a child as happy as her. “Look, angel! I can show you all my princess dresses, we can do a fashion show!” She pushed open a trunk decorated like a little carriage fit to wheel a queen in, the lid holding back all the tulle and silk, only to now spill out like an overstuffed donut.

Soobin chuckled by the doorway, knowing exactly how his daughter was. She would keep Angel entertained enough for the both of them, needing no help to find something to do. It was the only thought in his head until he caught sight of Angel's wrist, his little meringue’s handprint still indented on her soft skin. He watched in amazement the way it slowly rose back into shape like a cake filling the tin in the oven. The thoughts running in his head were nothing to be proud of, images of his hands on the plush of angel tummy driving him mad. He had to turn away, leaving them alone in the room to focus on the stack of papers he had on the edge of his desk to dull the image of his handprint on the crease of her hip, dented into her thigh.

It was hard to get work done as is, his mind always fluttering through the tasks at hand, the next paper to grade, the time to pick up meringue, when he would be able to fit in the time to sleep. Now all he can think about is sweet cream dotting the smooth expanse of buttery cake. He hardly got through the few papers waiting for him, red pen in hand, staining the tips of his fingers as it sat motionless waiting for him to write. Hours passed, the soft laughter and chatting heard through the cracked door, every so often a glimpse of yellow and pink crossed in front of his field of vision, both angel and meringue going from the living room and back.

It made soobin happy to not worry that Meringue was having a good time, sometimes she fell shy especially when not near Apple Dumpling. She even had to warm up to Strawberry, only becoming her bubbly self when she and dumpling were alone, hiding behind her closest advisers in the face of someone new. But Meringue had always wanted to talk to Angel Cake even before they had known her to be best friends with Strawberry. His sweet lemony girl's eyes go wide and glittery seeing the expanse of clothes held in Angel's shop, do you think she gets to try on anything she wants? Look at how cute she dressed Daddy! I wish I had her job.

Every little comment only showed how deeply Meringue wanted to play dress up, more so play with Angel. He's sure even if he had asked for Angel to watch meringue in the shop she would have just as much fun as she was having going around the house now. He loved how comfortable Meringue found herself around Angel, and how Angel accepted his girl with open arms.

Time slipped past soobin without realizing the laughter had faded into hazy silence, more than half his stack of papers cleared through and marked to be returned to waiting students. He ran his fingers under his eyes, glasses set askew from the rubbing, sighing into the empty study. Soobin didn't notice Angel until he smelled her, that wonderfully delicate sweet smell of vanilla sweetness making him hold back his groan. He had thought it had only been the smell of the shop. The cake-like walls were made to pull in customers like the cinnamon scent of a bakery wafting through the streets, beckoning all who breathed in the air. Maybe Angel smelled so delicious because of working all day, the scent rubbing off and sticking to her hair, her clothes, her skin.

“She's fast asleep, knocked out almost as soon as she laid down to read her bedtime book,” Angel leaned against the edge of soobins desk, hip digging into the wood, fingers sprawled over the skewed pages of work. To Soobin, she was a dazzling masterpiece of messy hair and flushed skin, dress short enough for him to see the way the desk was pinching her thigh.

“Thank you,” the words twisted into a whisper from how dry his mouth had gotten just from looking at a single strip of skin. Licking his lips he tried to swallow, finding something to say besides the hollow echo of words he had managed.

“Oh it's nothing really, she's a doll,” Angel's eyes danced over the pages at her hand, “you lived in the city right?” even just the mention had soobins mind going back to the dull colorless house he found himself in when studying for his degree. It made him sick to think about raising meringue in a place like that, she was why he had moved back home, not caring how off-put the rest of the town was about him now.

“Yes, I did,” he sat back in his chair, one elbow still resting on the desk and the other laid out on the armrest. He was half turned to angel, lower because of sitting and now having her tower over him. And her damn thigh was there right next to him, knuckles twitching to brush over the smooth expanse of skin.

“Did you like it?” Angel had tipped her voice down to a whisper, the dim light needing the change when she had decorated the question in enough hope and worry. It wasn't as if Soobin’s answer would change much, she knew she dreamed of a city out there bright enough to blind the thought of home but it was hard to leave when it was all she ever knew, she didn't even know if she truly wanted to leave.

“I liked it enough,” soobin bit at his bottom lip, worrying over the question. It was as honest an answer as he could give. “But it wasn't home, not for me, not for meringue. There is nothing quite like the comfort of home,”

“Like this place you have here,” Angel lifted her chin, looking around the packed study with even more books and bobs. “That couch of yours looks too cozy not to nap on,”

“You should see my bed,” it was a quick response, one that didn't pass the filter connected to the bit of his mouth that kept him from saying anything embarrassing. “I- I didn’t mean it like that-”

But Angel didn't get the innuendo embedded into the words, she just nodded, “I should, I bet it's just as warm as the rest of this place, you have it at just the right temperature,”

The lack of sleep was making him loose, his finger drifting out to press right into the outside of Angel's thigh, pushing against the soft plush of her skin just enough to feel the heat from her, “you sure it's not you? You seem to keep warm enough,”

“Oh no, take it from a cake to know exactly when they walk into the right level of warmth. This is perfectly cozy,”

“You do feel…lively,” soobin drags his finger up Angel's thigh, reaching right to the hem of her dress, stopping right before it could go any further. The line he had drawn was like the roadmap to the realization that he should not be touching her like this. But it was incredibly hard to remember his mind when he felt this hazy; drunk off the lack of sleep and the sweet smell of sugary cake.

Angel felt the pad of his finger slip right up her spine, sink into her nervous system, and cloud her mind. Even if he had pulled away, flexing his hand as if that would sink the feeling of her warm skin into his palm, she could swear the touch was tattooed right there forever now.

She couldn’t forget it, not on the walk home, not when she showered the day away, not even when she climbed into bed. The moonlight slipped in through her lacy curtains, the soft gleam pulling her mind right back to the study. Her finger pressed right where she remembered him, circling the spot like she was tracing the shape of the yellowing moon on her thigh.

Even the moon made her think of him, a little lemon drop in the sky, her bed warm enough to picture what it would be like to snuggle up in his. Her fingers were too soft and not at all how she needed them to be to pick up her illusion. Pressing them harder into her thigh she felt an ache between her legs, centered right at the heart of her.

Angel had never felt such a pull to touch herself, not until the butter blonde boy was there just out of reach, so close to palming her thigh instead of just using the tip of his fingers. She wanted his hands all over her, they didn't even need to be warm, she just needed him. Needed his finger pressed on the tormentor's bud that called for him. But for now, she would have to make do, her hand pushed into her shorts feeling along the wet seam of herself never knowing that her body would crave someone so bad without even having tasted them like strawberry had said.

But the only thing on her mind was lemon drop, her hips rolling into her hand, the soft moans drawn out from a mouth so unfamiliar with this sound. Her body told her the way to move, and where to seek peak pleasure until she was a gasping mess, creaming around her dainty digits. Angel Cakes' new discovery was a calamity, highlighting a deep desire she didn't know she could hold within herself. A catastrophe; soobin had been the one to knock a tray of glasses to the floor, already so recklessly close to the edge until one push sent them shattering, angel couldn't clean the glass fast enough, left to never be the same again.

Soobin was no better, he was a cracked vase slowly leaking out in drips of sun-melted ice, he had to hold it together for work, for home; hastily wrapping fingers around the seeping seams only for his thoughts to pour out between his fingers. Because angel cake was spinning in his living room, twirling around with his daughter, giggling until they were a dizzy pile on the floor. His office door just cracked as he caught sight of angels' sweet lacy white panties, clinging to the curve of her ass. If he had knocked over the tray of her sanity, angel cake had taken a hammer to his fragile vase, smashed it until it was powered, and easily passed as dusting sugar on the treats in strawberry’s shop.

Soobin felt his addiction take its toll on him, every night the image of angel cake washed over his sleeping mind until he was reduced to nothing but a needy muddled mess of thruming joints. He couldn't go one day without his hand wrapped around his cock, working his wrist until he was spilling dribbles of cum onto sheets that needed her in them. It was worse when his order from strawberry came in, Kai handing the box over right at the doorway, picking up Meringue for her sleepover with Dumpling. The smell of the shortcake filled the house as soon as he shut the door behind them.

He was embarrassed to have such an obsession with angel cake, sure that she would cringe away from his desperation for her. So desperate he was standing in the kitchen with one hand down his pants and the other digging into the soft sponge of one of the cakes just brought over. The cream and crumb squished out between his fingers as he came, moaning into the empty space until the sound reverberated around him, the smell of her dancing around his body. He wanted her, needed her.

Soobin didn’t even remember the trip to Angel's shop's door, his nose pulling him along the crumb-dotted cobblestone, leading him right to the front doors, so willing to be eaten by the magic-laced girl inside. He could see her through the frosted glass windows, the closed sign turned to signal the end of her shift but she was leaning over the stand of shirts, fixing them in the way she wanted, her end-of-day routine. He could smell her, that buttery sweetness addicting, making him delirious. He wanted to sink his hands into her warm flesh, hold her tight enough so that if anyone saw they would know it was his hands that had been on her, that she was his, and his alone.

He pushed open the unlocked door, the ding of the bell signaling his entrance, that glance over her shoulder ruining him once and for all. “Hi! Did I forget I was supposed to come over tonight? I can pack up real quick or she can stay here-”

“No, blueberry took her- i- i-” he was struggling with the words, a stuttering fool standing in the middle of the shop like he'd come to beg. And he had, he would beg her till the end of his days to have one taste, to have her tear into him like she was peeling back the layers of his sanity. “I need you,”

“Oh?” she tilted her head to the side, the pure look of innocence smashing into him like a wave. He wanted to stain her, fill her up, and call her his.

Soobin struggled to swallow, every breath filling his lungs with her, she was right there on the tip of his tongue. “I need you,” his hand reached down to the bulge sitting against his thigh, hard, thick, and weeping for her.

If Angel Cake hadn't spoken to Strawberry about the zipper-level kisses she would have been confused beyond belief. But it had been all she could think of since then, what it would be like to lick up his body and know exactly what it was that made people so addicted. Because she was grappling with the fact that she was already falling down the rabbit hole of need, to finally taste him would be like crashing right into another world. “I don't know- I don't know how-” she was flushed all over from the confession because she didn't want him to leave, if he needed her she would mold herself to fit and fix any problem he had. Her lack of knowledge wouldn't hold her back, if he was a teacher she would be his best student.

“I'll show you, tell you everything you need to know,” he snapped the button on his pants, undoing the zipper releasing enough pressure to let out the most sinful noise angel had ever heard. She could feel her panties flooded with the cream that had been leaking from her for days now, always tied to the thought of him. If he felt even a fraction of how she did, Angel would make sure to take the best care of him.

“O-okay,” Angel Cake could feel her mouth water, her thighs pulling together, needing them closer to relieve the ache she felt. Soobin locked the door behind him, tugging Angel to a spot behind a rack of clothes. “Here get on your knees in front of me,”

Angel was fast to listen, sinking to the ground in front of him, hands placed neatly on the tops of her thighs, looking up at soobin with those wanting eyes. Just thinking about those plush lips warping around his cock was taking him out, and watching the tip of her tongue wet her mouth was excruciating. Soobin reached into his pants, pulling out his veiny shaft, the sheer size making Angel's eyes widen.

She didn't know what she was expecting but she was not expecting to feel empty at the sight. The top of him was shiny with a layer of leaking pre-cum. Soobin ran his thumb across his slit collecting the wetness to swirl around the tip, moaning at the way Angel's mouth fell open without realizing. “You can touch it,” he nodded, watching how Angel was gripping her skirt, crinkling the fabric trying to hold herself back.

Angel lifted a shaking hand, fingers brushing the side of him, amazed at the softness so much that she wrapped her hand around him and gave a tug. Soobins chest rumbled, his hand reaching out for the rack next to him, the hangers clattering from the force of his grip. “Sorry-”

“No, no you're doing good, just like that, slow and easy,” he nodded, biting back his moan when her wrist flicked again, “you can squeeze a little harder,” he whispered, his free hand finding itself around hers, showing her just the right amount of pressure he was looking for. Soobin's hand guided Angel's until he was using her hold as if it was his own, speeding up the pace.

Angel watches in amazement as soobins head rolls back, his brows pinched as he whimpers. She's never wanted to taste something or someone so bad, and now, with him right in front of her, she can't resist the temptation for what it is. Angel sits up just enough so that she can press a sweet kiss to his tip, a string of pre-cum still connecting her lips to him. Soobin lets out a shocked gasp, watching the way she licks her lips clean.

The taste is subtle, the sweet and sour mixed together only to draw Angel back in for more. She didn't even know what she was doing, compelled by the flavor to envelop him fully, the flat of her tongue licked up and around to collect more of the addictive fluid. Soobin’s knees go weak at the warmth of her mouth, hips jerking to try to chase the feeling, “Oh fuck just like that,” his hand still holding hers, working over the rest that wasn't pressed into her mouth.

Angel cake moaned around him, his bitter lemon taste mixing with the sweetness from his pre-cum. She wanted to swallow him whole, take more of him down. Soobin couldn't even think anymore, Angel's mouth trying to work further down, her hand stopping right at his base. Angel hollows her cheeks, sucking him down like its instinct, soobins groan taking over the silence and joining the soft wet noises. Soobins restraint breaks, overwhelmed by the way her mouth molds to his cock so perfectly, his mind working to imagine it's her waiting cunt. She takes him down so deep he can feel the back of her throat. It's enough for him to wrap his hands into her hair, fingers wrapping softly around her skull as he fucks into her mouth without warning. Angel moans, the vibrations going straight up his cock and making his balls clench. Her hands reach out for his thighs to keep herself steady, tears welling in her eyes, loving the newfound sensation.

Angel Cake doesn't know what to expect, lashes fluttering as he loses himself in the feel of her. It's a shock when his thrusts become erratic, his body trembling with a deep groan, sweet lemon cream spilling on her waiting tongue. Angel tries to swallow, unable because he keeps going, fucking his cum right into her still willing mouth, spurt after spurt following until he has to pull away. Angel gasps, sucking in gulps of air, mouth a mess of dripping lemon custard and saliva.

If she had thought the pre-cum had been addicting, she didn't know the effect the real deal would have on her. Blindly, she wiped the corner of her mouth, licking the cream she'd collected, humming as if she'd just taken a bite of the richest lemon bar. The sight and sound made soobin impossibly more obsessed with her, fingers going down her cheek, pulling her attention to his awestruck expression.

His head was clearing but it didn't stop the infection of her as it slipped well past his mind, into his bones, into his soul. He had heard about how easy it was to save a fruit tree if you cut away the rot fast enough; right at first sight. Angel cake had taken hold of every thorny branch on his tree and twisted herself in the sparse foliage, so deeply intertwined now that he wasn't sure there was ever a time when it would have been an easy snip to rid himself of this fever.

Angel Cake's face was a glistening mess of wetness when he squished her cheeks with one large hand, her pouting lips so kissable and pink. “Look at you,” a surrealistic sigh caught on the edge of his tone. He leaned down, needing a taste of the two of them, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet, angel's sugary spit mixed with his lemony custard making him powerless. And when he pulled away, letting go of angel's cheeks, he watched the way her lips stayed puffy, the illusion of dimples still there as her skin rose back, flushed a petal pink. “Did I do good?”

“You did perfect,” soobin brushes his nose along the bridge of hers, his eyes closing, breathing her in. He wanted to tear into her, squish his fingers into her, and memorize every little action that brought out a sound. But in his post orgasm clarity, he noticed exactly what he had done. He had tainted this perfect angel, filled her with more than just bad ideas but had fully gone in and let his uncontrollable emotions take over.

Even when Angel Cake had gotten home later that night, she couldn't stop licking her lips. She was lying in bed, wriggling in the sheets trying and failing to find a comfortable position let alone sleep. Her hand was stuck between her legs, on the verge of tears for nothing working to cave in a hunger that she was only now painfully aware of. She hated that she was alone, hated it more than she knew the feeling of his hands on her, knew that those long fingers would have been perfect to fix her problem as easily as she had fixed his.

The hunger triggered a compulsion within her similar to the one soobin experienced on his walk to Angel’s shop, her feet carrying her through the streets, half-dressed in her silky lace pajamas. The lemon drop moon cast its path down the cobblestone to Soobin’s front door. The cold unfelt against Angel's warm skin, and when soobin opened the door he could see the steam rising off of her heated body. The haze of it mixed with the backlight of the moon made her look like a true angel waiting right at his front step, outlined in the glow. She hasn't even come in shoes, her thick socks slouched around her ankles, her shorts pinched at her waist, and one tank top strap down her shoulder. He could see her pebbled nipples through the thin material, his lips pursing at the thought of wrapping around them. “Angel?”

He couldn't tell if this was one of his dreams, the kind that left him reaching out in a bed she never saw. “I think I need you now,” she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed by the words, not when she had seen him in the same state, begging and just as needy. Soobin rushed to pull her inside, ready to get her wrapped up in something to keep her from freezing if that was possible for someone so warm. He hardly had the door closed when she was pulling him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging him into her space. She needed to have him in her mouth again and soobin knew he wasn't going to turn her away. His hands slid down her back, fingers digging into the soft skin, groaning into her sugar-sweet mouth, the sound catching in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it down greedily.

Angel didn't know what to do with her hands, her mind shutting off and following their natural way, slipping into his hair, the strands tangling between her fingers, his lemony sweet kisses taking over her mind as he slowly kissed her. But Angel was impatient, whining and rubbing her thighs together.

“What is it baby? Tell me,” he kissed down her jaw, intoxicated by the smell of her, so much stronger when she was so hot against him.

Angel reached down for one of his hands, guiding it like he had done for her, pushing his fingers until they slipped right against the silk of her shorts, “it's so achy,” she whimpered, “and all I can do is think about you,”

She was like a freshly wrapped gift left on the front step, the label perfectly signed with his name and his name alone. A sinful treat he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into. He dragged his fingers along the seam of her, the silk already spotted with wetness, “you want me to take care of you?” the husk of his voice was thick in her ear like syrup.

“Please- please,” her nods are erratic, hips rolling trying to keep him right against her tender clit. Her pathetic cry echoes in the living room when he pulls his hand away. But he doesn't keep his hands away for long, dragging her to his room, having her fall to his bed, right where he's wanted her. Her knees fall open, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress. She's a vision of her namesake, mewling when soobin hooks his fingers into her waistband and takes down her panties and shorts, sliding them down her legs and peeling her socks off, leaving her bottom half exposed.

Soobin is caught at the sight of her gleaming cunt, leaking arousal the color of royal icing, creamy and sweet, looking as if she had been stuffed full of him already. Nothing could keep him from getting a taste. He fell to his knees like this was a place to beg for forgiveness. But he wouldn't be sorry, not after he started his feast. Soobin licked a bold stripe up from her entrance to clit, groan ripped from him with only one drop of her. He wrapped his arms under her legs, holding her open and watching how his fingers dented her flesh, the plush of her spilling between fingers itching to stay there and mold her as his forever.

Angel let out a sharp gasp the second his mouth was attached to her aching center, thighs trying to snap shut around his head, held in place and forced open as she arched her back. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her breathing only coming out when she slipped out moans. He was devouring her, licking her clean like he was enjoying the frosting before the cupcake, sucking deeply on her clit just to watch her tremble.

Soobin does not care about the mess he's making of her, face dripping with his Angel's cream, moans of delight vibrating against her puffy clit. He doesn’t even notice the way she's writhing beneath him, only that he's now faced with the most delicious meal he has ever had. Moaning into her, slurping up all that she has to offer trying to pull forth more of her sweet cream. And he didn't have to try hard, not when she needed him so bad already, the bubbling building in her lower belly so newfound and yet never before so intense. Angel cake feels like a balloon ready to pop, one deep long suck on her clit has her seeing stars, her orgasm washing over her as swiftly as a needle prick, causing her to come undone. The gush of her arousal keeps Soobin’s mouth right against her, his persistent licks only pulling him in more.

He was a desperate mess, working away at his pants, rutting into the mattress as if that would curb his insatiable hunger. He needed to be inside of her, filling her up with his lemon custard, fucking her senseless until she was begging to stay right here in his bed and never leave. He wanted that, to keep her as his, not just press his hand into her thigh and leave that lasting mark. No, he needed to claim her as his in the best, most lasting way. “Do you want me inside you Angel?” he pressed the flat of his palm into her pelvis, relishing in the way he felt himself sinking into her skin. “Right here, filling you up, making you mine-”

Angel had never felt so empty, not until he pointed it out, solving a problem she never thought she had. Her mewling response was a mix of pleas and whimpers. She didn't care what he did so long as she could have him near, and if he could fix the burn in her belly he could devour her just as well as tear her apart.

Soobin lifted Angel's legs enough so that the backs of her knees were slotted against his inner elbows, one hand reaching down to guide his dripping cock to her waiting entrance. Angel does not expect the pressure of being pushed into, her gasp caught on a half-open mouth of pure bliss. Every slow tantalizing inch stretches her out, her body instinctively clenching around him trying to suck him in. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, his hand sliding up her stomach, up under her tank top to reveal her breasts. He rubs at her skin, soothing her tense muscles until he's sunk all the way into the hilt, her body melting and molding around his.

Soobin waits, catching himself from letting go, letting their bodies adjust to each other. But Angel is impatient, rolling her hips, not even realizing she's trying to fuck back onto him, only that she needs some kind of friction. But soobin is slow to pull out and even slower to push back in, eyes connected to the spot they meet at. Her body was like clay beneath him, so easily shaped into the perfect temptation. Every drag in and out coated his cock in her cream, mesmerizing him, numbing his brain.

Angel could tell the difference in him, that split second that makes his eyes go hazy, hips snapping into hers making her body ripple from the force. “you were fucking made for me- do you feel how deep I am-“ he’s slamming into her, the lude sounds of their wetness mixing; echoing with their moans. All the veins in his hands straining from the hold on her soft sides.

He was pressed so deep into her she could feel him hitting a spot that made her hips sink, her hands reaching out to hold his hands, needing the comfort not knowing what was building inside her. so much more intense than when it’s her fingers or even just his mouth. “soobin im-im-“ she can’t even find the words looking for something that she didn’t know existed until just now.

“we can cum together- I’ll fill you up make sure to pump you full so you know exactly where I'm going to put our baby,” he moves his hand down to press his thumb to her clit, triggering her to jolt, the walls of her pulsing around him before she’s falling apart.

Angel's body is a tightening mess, her back arching, cheeks flushing as she comes undone for him. The pull of her body to his makes him shudder, his whole body falling against hers needing to be close, needing to smell the vanilla sweetness of her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he holds back his strangled moans. Slow languid thrusts push his lemon custard cum back into her, needing to make true to his promise to have her full of him and only him. Needing to mix together their cream for the perfect bake.

Neither of them knows what's happened to them, only that they are a tangle of limbs, wrapped up tight enough that Angel can still feel the pulse of his cock deep inside her, still pumping into her never having cum so much in his life before then.

Angel feels boneless when he pulls away, her whimper making him chuckle. “I just need to see your creamy pussy again,” the sight to behold better than before now that he knows the wetness is more his than hers. His fingers dragged through her sensitive cunt, collecting the mess to shove it back Into her, fucking her on his fingers for a second. He lifts his fingers in front of them showing Angel the sheer amount of cream coating the digits. “If I could bottle this flavor I would,” he licks them clean before leaning over to shove his tongue into her mouth, needing her to taste what he’s found as his new obsession.

Angel swallows down the cum, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, twisting legs and burrowing in closer. “you taste sweeter than I thought you would,”

“Did the thought of it keep you up?” he asks, nose brushing along the column of angel's throat. “because thinking of you while being alone in this bed is hell, I need both of my girls under my roof to feel complete,”

“both…” the sound of the word was heavy in her mouth. Not in an uncomfortable way but in a way a piece of chocolate sat on her tongue, melting and sweet, craving to place another one as soon as it was gone.

“Both.” The finality of the word is better than the buttery sheets he’s pressing her right back Into.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you so much @izzyy-stuff for helping edit this for me ily ily ily @thetxtdevil and @beomiracles for betareading this a bit, but special special thank you for mae who gave me a lot of these ideas in the first place, her perfect mind came up with the cake like reader with indenting skin and helped with the conversation with strawberry and angel <3

#soobin x reader #soobin smut #txt x reader #txt smut #choi soobin x reader #soobin hard hours #soobin hard thoughts #soobin txt #txt soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #huening kai

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victoryai · 9 days ago

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The ascendant in solar return chart

♈ Aries ascendant: When this shows up as your Sr ascendant, we are talking about you, you and you. The focus of the year is on you, new beginnings, new goals, a fresh start. They'll be a very significant change in your life and physical appearance. You might adopt new habits, start hitting the gym, dye your hair, cut your hair, change your name, or make a major achievement in your life. Your confidence will sporadically shoot. Aries is ruled by fiery mars. So be careful

♉ Taurus ascendant: Taurus represents, money, food,wealth, self worth etc. when Taurus shows up as your solar return ascendant this listed above will be highlighted. This is a year that is about to shake up your account balance 😂. Your going to earn and spend more. There's a high chance of adding weight. This is literally spoiler alert😂. You'll spoil yourself rotten and buy what ever you like. Your self esteem is gonna reach the stars. Not a year to be broke baby!

✨Where Taurus falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♊ Gemini: Gemini represents short distance journeys, siblings, neighborhood, your country/continent, learning, education , writing. So literally any of these could come up for you. You might find your self really restless 😬. Yeah, the year I had this, I was sooooo restless and anxious 😰😂. I also moved from one city to another . You would literally be so busy. Might end up writing a book or start a blog or take an educational program. You might travel within you country or continent (exceptions if Gemini falls in your natal 9th house, then you can travel abroad)

If you had a strained relationship with your siblings, you can fix that. Something significant happens in the life of your siblings/cousins/neighbors. They might be something happening in your neighborhood too. Where Gemini falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♋ Cancer: Cancer represents home, house , mother, emotions, family, home country, mother figures, Grandma etc.

So when Cancer shows up as your Sr asc, expect this 👆to be highlighted. You're very likely to make a renovation at home, buy a new house, invest in real estate, change homes. The focus of this year might also be on your Mom, just something about her . If afflicted, it might show fights with family or at home. If you're a woman, then you might have your first child or you might become for family oriented. It might also show you reuniting with family members. Where Cancer falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♌ Leo: This year is going to be shiny year😂. Believe me when I saw you might have children this year or focus more on your kids. If not, you might be really having the time of your life. Going on dates, having numerous crushes and admirers, having funnnn. Let's not forget that this is also the house of education. You might enroll in a partime educational course . A short educational program. If your a gambler, expect luck to rain on you this year. Your going to be fortunate In betting and gambling. Lastly and most shiny, you have the chance to be in the spotlight. You're a star✨⭐. You'll find yourself seeking attention and fame and you'll get it. Go girl/boy. plus be careful not to get too prideful. Where Leo falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♍ Virgo: Pls tryy your possible best to take care of yourself this year😬. There's a 50/50 chance of really falling sick. When I had this, that particular year was the worst of my life 😭. I normally don't fall sick but that year, it was something else.

Well apart from sickness, you'll find your self more picky and organized. You wouldn't tolerate nonsense tho 😂 . The year I had this , I literally fought with someone. If your planning on losing weight, then it'll be easier for you this year. You might also do something education related. Your schedules will be full and you'll find yourself being repetitive. You might also decide to take more care of yourself , go to spa, healthcare, clinics often and youibe very careful too 😊. I almost forgot, you'll be of service to someone that is sick , old or a baby . That year I took care of my 90 yr old Grandma. You'll pack others 💩😂 or maybe community service too.

Where Virgo falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♎ Libra ascendant: Awwn 😊, your gonna make heads turn . Having your Sr asc in the sign of partnerships and love, you should know what to expect. People are going to find you attractive as hell 😉even if you didn't change much. Your very likely to find yourself in a romantic relationship or you're going to be surrounded by people. You might get married as well !. If you're already married then your focus for this year is going to be your spouse and your marriage. Without affliction, the love btw you and your person will grow stronger. People will come to you✨.Where Libra falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♏Scorpio ascendant: This year is likely to be about transformation, death, inheritance, wealth of others,s3x, your spouse properties , surgery. Expect a transformative year because your due for a change . You can come across massive wealth this year(which is def not yours), someone might die, thereby leaving you with inheritance. You might decide to go for surgery(mostly surgery to change your looks). You might obsess over something which might be unhealthy for you. Take note. Where Scorpio falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

Your headed for a change baby!!.

♐ Sagittarius ascendant: 😋 my favorite. This year is about religion, travel 🧳 college/university, beliefs, teachers and adventure. You can't get bored this year!😋. You might be making a significant move regarding your studies, might start or finish college. You may travel overseas this year!!😋🤤. Get to experience different cultures and places. Let's not forget the spiritual side of this house. You're likely to improve in your beliefs this year or maybe even change them or convert to another religion . You will feel the presence of God. Your definitely in for luck this year. You might meet a mentor or a very great teacher. Even if you're an introvert you'll literally stand on a hill and scream 😂 lol. Where Sagittarius falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♑ Capricorn ascendant: Your job is highlighted!!. If you're looking for a job, you'll get one this year. Your concern this year is your job and public image. You might even get promoted . You are Boss!. You'll learn to accept responsibilities this year. If the stars are even more aligned, expect fame. Youll shine and be in the spotlight. You should also try to be in good terms with your Dad and other authority figures. This is a year to establish your careeer goals. You might feel a little overwhelmed.Where Capricorn falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♒ Aquarius ascendant: This year is about your hopes and wishes, community, friend group, socials, being unique and being online all the time 😂😂lol. This year you are one among the crowd. You fight for your justice and for what is right. You seem so different from the people around you. You are innovative this year. You're likely to have new friends this year or might even become popular online. Maybe you decide to boost your socials or you fulfill long term goals.Where Aquarius falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

♓ Pisces: 💦💨🌊🌬️. A year of deep introspection or isolation. This year you seek to shut the outside world so as to renew lost energy. You seek peace and quiet but don't let it throw you into depression mode. You're often more quiet this year and let your mind and soul wander in other realms. You third eye 👁️ may 👐 open. You no more seek material things of this world but seek that which last forever. Your likely to be more immersed in spiritual practices.

The bad side is that you might easily get depressed 😔, or get into drugs. There's also a chance of going to jail. I love y'all . pls be careful and don't get confused or deceived 🥺🥺Where Pisces falls in your natal chart is also going to be highlighted.

#astro observations #astrology observations #astrology #solar return observations #solar return #lunar return #ascendant #ascendant in solar return chart #aries ascendant #taurus #taurus ascendant #tumblr polls

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srjlvr · 10 months ago

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HOW TO NOT SURVIVE HIGHSCHOOL

LYING to his friends about having a girlfriend was definitely not on his ‘how to survive highschool’ list and now, he has to convince his biggest rival that will surely laugh at his face, to fake date him.

PAIRING. rugby player+rival!sunghoon X rival-fem!reader (mentions of the rest of enha, aespa’s karina and boynextdoor taesan)

GENRE. childhood enemies to fake dating to lovers, angst, comedy, fluff and idk what more.

WARNINGS. young sunghoon’s a bitch, so is young y/n, also older sunghoon’s a bitch and so is y/n, manipulating here and there, misunderstandings, miscommunications, definitely curse words (seventh graders already know how to curse here!) , horrible humor, ik its weird but all of the mentioned idols here are the same age! (lmk if i missed something pls!)

WORD-COUNT. 10.4k+

NOTE. ok fine! bully me for not knowing how to make a pretty cover, its the story that matters though, right? anyways besties i really dunno when will be my next update so please be patient!! i miss writing and being here 24/7 honestly but its just been really hard for me.

“i need you to fake date me”

“no”

“please?”

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more”

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that”

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

if there’s one thing sunghoon can say about himself is that he’s quite an organized person, therefore he made a list for highschool.

a list that will help him survive his last years in highschool and will help him stay sane at the same time.

he called his list “how to survive highschool”, creative, right?

he’s been following his list and so far managed to survive just perfectly.

staying in rugby team with his friends? check!

“sunghoon! catch!” he heard a voice calling him and saw a ball coming right at him, he caught the ball and ran with it, then passing the ball to riki, his friend and teammate who scored the game and ended it with a win.

“that was a good one! take a break and return in thirty minutes!” the rugby team’s coach clapped and sent the players off for break.

“hey! i got your exam grades here! come collect them!” jungwon, one of sunghoon’s friends waved the exams to show the players he got the them in his hands.

sunghoon went up to jungwon and took his own.

get high grades? check!

“i got A+ again!” he looked at the grade and excitedly smiled.

“ugh, you’re making me sick being the nerdy rugby player” jay, another friends of his rolled his eyes.

“you’re just jealous my grades are higher than your chances with your crush” sunghoon joked.

“oh you—“ “enough! no fighting on break time” heeseung cut jay in the middle of his sentence.

“let’s just get something to snack, it’s lunch time anyway” sunoo suggested and they all nodded.

“you guys ready?” riki asked before they entered the hallway.

get popular enough so students will freak out when they see you? check!

“sunghoon! i got you this chocolate snack! please accept this and enjoy it” a one random student handed him the chocolate snack.

before he could take it, jake snatched it and smiled, “i’ll take that, thank you” and left the girl and sunghoon speechless.

“dude what the fuck?” he asked his friend.

“it could be poisoned for all you care” jake shrugged but proceeded to take a bite from the snack as they kept walking.

“let’s just sit right there!” jungwon pointed at one lunch table as they entered the cafeteria.

“really? right in front of where y/n is sitting?” sunoo whispered in his ear.

“sure, let’s do that” sunghoon replied and started walking towards the table.

“um, i’ll go grab the snacks” riki said and ran to get the snacks.

“did he just-“ “oh, it’s going to be interesting” jake smirked and watched sunghoon as he walked really closer to you, who was sitting with your back towards him.

“so, what are your plans for the weekend?” your friend karina asked as she took a bite of your food.

“oh i don’t really know, probably chilling at home and—“ you were cut off middle sentence by someone bumping into you, causing you to spill some of your food on your uniform.

“what the fuck?” you turned around and saw the person behind it, “should’ve known it was you, park”

get yourself a rival so it’ll be more fun and interesting….? check!

“sorry, couldn’t see you there” he smirked.

“just go away” you rolled your eyes at him and turned to your friend who looked awkward as hell.

“sure” he started to walk but bumped into you again, causing you to spill more food on your clothes.

“oops! that happened again” he chuckled and continued to walk to the table.

“that’s it” that was your last straw.

you got up and took your water bottle, “y/n dont—“ your friend tried to stop you but it was too late already.

as you got closer to sunghoon, you poured all your water on him.

“what the—“ “sorry!! i slipped over and spilled some on you!!” you replied with a smirk and stormed off.

his friends who were watching the whole thing from afar, walked closer to now drenched sunghoon and started laughing.

“damn, that was fun. do it again!” jay cheered.

“here sunghoon i got you a towel!” a student walked up to him and handed him a towel to dry himself.

“thank you, i’ll take it” sunoo said and took the towel.

sunghoon glared at him, “what? you’re already used to being drenched by sweat, it’s the same thing, no?”

“i hate him” you rolled your eyes.

“say, what’s the deal with you and sunghoon? you never really told me and i just assumed he annoys you because he’s a nerdy rugby player,” she chuckled, “but it seems more than that”

“park sunghoon has been on my ass ever since seventh grade” you sighed.

“why? what happened on seventh grade?” she asked, leaving everything she was busy on behind and crossing her hands to focus on you and you only.

before seventh grade you and sunghoon were best friends, hell, your parents could’ve sworn that one day you’ll end up marrying each other.

you were stuck like a glue, always around each other and doing basically everything together, no one could tear you apart.

until, seventh grade happened.

you were the top student in class, you aced everything, from math to arts and received praises from all teachers. for the last few days of school, the teacher wanted you to show the whole school your arts project.

you drew your favorite view, which was your house garden, the teacher got so excited over the drawing and decided she wants you to show it to everyone else too.

a day before the last day of school, you were busy doing the last touches of your art, sunghoon was busy doing his usual, which was to annoy you.

“sunghoon stop! i need to focus” you scoffed.

sunghoon shrugged, “but i’m bored”

“go play around with others or something” you sighed.

he shook his head, “not when i can annoy you!”

he walked back and forth, even twirled around, until he became dizzy and accidentally pushed you over your drawing, making it look like a big mess over the canvas.

you let out a yelp and looked at it with teary eyes.

“i….i’m sorry!” he quickly said.

“get out!” you yelled without even looking at him.

“it can be fixed! just a few little—“ “i asked you to get out! you ruined my drawing! how will i be able to show it to everyone now?” at this point you started crying.

you didn’t show your unfinished and ruined art in front of everyone, instead it was sunghoon’s drawing that was shown to everyone.

your teacher saw the ruined art and decided to change the plans by taking sunghoon’s project and showing it to everyone.

jealousy was eating you alive. it was supposed to be you up there on stage, showing the project to everyone and getting the compliments, you deserve that after working so hard.

it was sunghoon’s fault, all of it.

before you walked away with your parents, sunghoon called you a few times. at first you ignored his callings, but your parents, unbeknown to the whole story behind it, stopped your tracks and told you to go to sunghoon.

with heavy steps you walked closer to him, “what do you want?” you coldly asked.

“i wanted to apologize” he took a deep breath.

“great, you just did”

“wait—“

“we’re good now, i forgive you” you lied. you just didn’t feel like hearing his excuses and explanations.

“wow, really?”

“yeah” no.

although you told sunghoon you forgive him, things became really awkward between the two of you.

summer vacation arrived and you did your best to ignore him, except the times where he left you no choice and just randomly showed up at your house.

eighth grade was cool between the two of you, but you still held strong feelings against him.

he tried his best to overcome the weird awkwardness between the two of you, you’re too important for him to let go. he was honestly so scared of entering highschool without you by his side.

the second half of eighth grade was the last straw between the two of you.

you started crushing over someone in your class, and started hanging out with him, slowly getting close to the guy.

sunghoon, who was carefully watching you from behind, didn’t like your new crush, he seemed like bad news to him, getting close not only to you, but to other girls as well.

your parents, who were strict that time, warned you about dating a guy at such young age, and sunghoon had to do what he had to do.

“park, what the fuck?” you came up to him and pushed him.

“what?” he asked surprised.

“why the fuck did you tell my parents about him?” you shout.

“oh,” he rolled his eyes, “so it’s about him”

“of course it’s about him! you know about my long time crush on him!”

“he’s bad news y/n” sunghoon tried to warn you.

“no, you’re bad news! i should’ve known not to forgive you at all” you scoffed and walked away.

“y/n, wait!” sunghoon called you but you were faster than the light and suddenly was nowhere to be found.

“uh oh” jay, who was there to witness everything pat his friend’s back, “you fucked up”

“yeah, thanks jay i really needed that” sunghoon rolled his eyes.

“really? going behind her back and telling her parents about some guy? you could’ve just talked with her about it” jay snapped.

“it’s not that easy”

“it sure isn’t, and so will be your attempts to talk with her”

jay was right, sunghoon tried everything to get to talk with you, followed you everywhere, sent you numerous texts and calls until you had to block his number, even showed up at your house a few times. nothing helped.

so sunghoon, being the cool teenager he is, decided to move on. he doesn’t need you anymore anyways.

nineth grade came and so did a new student that sunghoon couldn’t take his eyes off of.

slowly he tried his best to get closer to her and spending more time with her, he was so close to confess his feelings towards her.

“did you do that on purpose?” she asked, nothing but hatred in her eyes as she looked at sunghoon.

“do what…?” he asked confused.

“did you tell the whole school about my family issues?” she raised her voice.

“what? no! i would never—“

“forget it, you’re such a jerk!” she yelled and stormed out.

“wait!!” he called her and was about to run after her but his eyes caught a glimpse of a person smirking.

he clenched his jaw and moved closer to the figure, “what the fuck did you do?” he asked.

“nothing, i don’t know what you’re talking about” the person shrugged.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. i know you had something to do with it” he rolled his eyes.

“still don’t know what you’re talking about” you shrugged again, “maybe someone’s just taking a revenge on you, i don't know” you added and left with a smirk.

“i hate you choi y/n!” he shout. “it’s mutual park sunghoon!”

“oh now i get it! yes girl! give him the revenge he deserves to get” karina cheered and you nodded.

“but, don’t you think he ruined your chances with your crush just because he was jealous?” she asked and you glared at her, “i mean, even your parents could’ve sworn you’d end up getting married”

“even if he was jealous, he should’ve confronted me about it” you replied and she nodded.

“you’re right” she sighed, “but what if he was, i don’t know, scared?”

“are you seriously on his side now?” you asked in disbelief.

“never!” she hugged you and you giggled.

“let’s get you cleaned up, i think i have an extra uniform in my locker”

“oh no, walking in school hallways like that is like just straight up asking to be bullied”

“i won’t let anyone bully you bae, let’s go”

“by the way! all of you are invited to my brother’s wedding, no single hoes are invited though, that includes you sunghoon” heeseung chuckled,

“sweet! when is it?” jake asked.

“in a month”

“what? you cannot be serious!” sunghoon complained.

“sorry, your single ass will not be able to handle this wedding” heeseung shrugged.

“even riki has a partner before you” sunoo laughed.

“guys just realized sunghoon is really the only one single here” jungwon added which made everyone laugh and make jokes about him.

“all of you can shut up because i actually do have a girlfriend”

heeseung was obviously joking about sunghoon not being invited because he’s single, but he was not expecting to hear his friend confessing that he actually is seeing someone now.

sunghoon was also not expecting that big lie to come out of his mouth, but it was already too late.

“what?” jungwon spoke first after the silence that surrounded after his confession.

“i do have a girlfriend” no sunghoon, you can still get away with it and say you were joking.

sunghoon’s list of surviving highschool has a lot of tasks still left untouched, but this one was definitely not, and was never written, as one of his tasks on his list.

lie to your friends about having a girlfriend? definitely not on the list, stop with the lies!!!

his friends looked at him in shock. riki dropped the spoon he was about to shove into his mouth, jake choked on his water and heeseung pat his back, jay almost fainted and jungwon and sunoo froze in their place.

“what?” sunghoon asked.

they all burst into laughter, “that was a good one! i almost believed you!” riki wiped his tears that fell down because of the amount of laughter he let out.

“i’m serious!” sunghoon scoffed.

“you? a girlfriend? sunghoon, i saw your ‘how to survive highschool’ list, you had a ‘no matter what, stay single until you finish highschool!’ line!” jay chuckled.

“i can break one line its not a big deal, besides, she’s definitely worth it” sunghoon smiled.

he’s talking about no one, no one comes to his mind at the moment, but he still keeps on with his lie.

“will we be able to see her before the wedding?” heeseung asked.

“a day before maybe” sunghoon nodded.

“hey! we’re already late for practice! get up everyone now!!” jungwon checked the clock and hurried everyone up.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, real bad. he never had a normal conversation with a girl in highschool, and let’s not forget about the fact that everyone talks to him as if he has some kind of royal blood.

the only real friendship he had with a girl was with you in his childhood. and you’re the only girl who can talk back to him without feeling threatened. wait, that’s it!

“i need you to fake date me”

curse him and his very awful impulse control.

as soon as sunghoon finished his practice he went to the library, figured he’d find you there and apparently he was right.

the book you were reading was long forgotten as you tried to process what you just heard.

“no” you replied shortly.

“please?” he sounded so desperate.

“are you seriously begging right now?”

“yes?”

“that’s fun, get on your knees and beg more” you smirked.

“are you nuts? i’ll never do that” he frowned and rolled his eyes.

“fine then, pay me for that”

“how much?”

“two”

“dollars?”

“billions”

“hell no”

“kiss my ass goodbye then” you shrugged.

“you’re unbelievable”

“said the one who barged into the library and started begging me to date him”

“yeah, it’ll help you become popular” he slightly nodded.

“right, you’re already popular and have multiple fans or whatever, why don’t you just ask them?”

“it’ll just make things worse!”

“fuck off sunghoon, i’m not going to fake date you and help you because of some stupid lie you told” you rolled your eyes and got back to reading the book.

he tried begging you once more but at this point you just decided to ignore him until he left.

“what the heck was that?” you asked yourself and shook your head.

“hey y/n!” you heard a voice calling you and you immediately recognized this voice.

it belonged to taesan, your classmate and also your longtime crush. taesan’s quite popular amongst the students, and surprising so, he’s not a rugby player.

you’ve made a pros and cons lists about your few old crushes and also made one about your current crush, taesan.

pros? he’s funny, smart, creative, caring, friendly, kind and would prefer to spend his free time in the library with you.

cons?

“hey sunghoon dude! didn’t see you there, what are you doing here?”

he’s sunghoon’s best friend. that is a BIG no no for you.

“just came to check something, studying again?” sunghoon smirked as he looked at you.

did he seriously wait for taesan to come so he could spend more time annoying you?

“yeah, it’s my studying with y/n time, we’ve been doing that for a while” taesan smiled widely and winked at you.

without even noticing your cheeks started to heat up. but your blushing cheeks were already noticed by someone who’s definitely going to use that against you.

“right, i’m not going to interrupt you two, enjoy!” sunghoon said as he gave you one last smirk before turning around and leaving.

“isn’t he so weird sometimes? i can definitely understand why you hate his guts” taesan chuckled and you nodded.

“how are you today anyway? didn’t see you that much” he smiled.

“so far so good, you?”

“great now that i’m here with you”

you tried your best to stop your racing heart beats after hearing what he said and making eye contact with him.

you just giggled and opened a book right away, “let’s just start with this book!”

after some time that felt like half an hour to you (but was actually two hours or so) it was time to go back home.

“let me walk you home” taesan suggested.

“it’s okay, i live closeby, if so i’m the one who needs to walk you home” you giggled.

“i insist”

you didn’t reply to him and just walked out of the library as he followed you.

“oh hey y/n, taesan!” you stopped your trace when you noticed sunghoon standing right outside the library.

“sunghoon? why are you still here?” taesan asked, emphasizing the last question.

“just walked by after dropping yeji at her friend’s house, also i promised y/n i’ll walk her home, right y/n?”

you looked at him confused but he gave you the ‘you better say yes now’ look, and besides, you didn’t want to bother taesan with the long walk.

“right, i completely forgot, i’m really sorry taesan, next time i’ll be the one to walk you home!” you said and he nodded.

“don’t worry about it!” he said, quite confused since he never saw the both of you getting along and actually walking home together, even though you live right across each other.

sunghoon took your hand and dragged you away from taesan.

“what the fuck park?”

“walking him home? seriously? your lazy ass could never” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“fuck off sunghoon, why are you really here?”

“i’ve got a deal to offer” he stopped you from walking and you glared at him.

“no”

“you haven’t heard it yet”

“i don’t care, it’s a no from me, i can never trust you” you scoffed and started walking away.

“i’ll help you to get close to taesan!” he said and you froze for a second, “i don’t need your help”

“oh but you do” he smirked as he figured he got your weakness point, “you’ve been acting awfully trying to hide your little crush on him”

“what do you need?” you asked, half convinced.

“a month” he said straightforwardly.

“are you—“

“a month of fake dating and then i’ll let you tell everyone you broke up with me and broke my heart and whatever you want” he licked his lips, “i’ll help you get closer to taesan too”

“i need a day to think about it” you sighed.

“fine” he said, full of hopes and prayers.

as you arrived you bid your goodbyes for the first time in years, and it never felt so weird as much as it just did.

as you entered the house you took a quick shower and ate, right after that you ran to get your phone a called karina.

“i think you should do it, a month wouldn’t be so bad, plus, he did say he’ll help you get close to taesan” she said.

“can i really trust him though? he ruined my chances with my crush once already” you groaned.

“you’re right, don’t trust that guy”

“but he’s also the only one that could get me close to taesan”

“right again, trust him fully and agree to that deal”

“you’re not helping me at all!!” you complained.

“i don’t know bae, i guess that if i was you i would’ve probably go with what my heart says”

“cliché much, aren’t we?”

“i didn’t know what to say!”

“i guess i just…”

“really? are you for real? is it really happening right now? i need you to sign this contract right now before you regret” sunghoon’s eyes widened and his lips formed into a little smile.

you rolled your eyes, “don’t make me regret this”

“okay okay, i won’t, let’s just find a spot where we could talk” he said and took your hand.

he dragged you to an empty classroom and closed the door.

“so,” he spoke, “we need rules”

“no shit sherlock”

“can you stop being an actual bitch for a second and hear me out?” he spat and you rolled your eyes.

“i’ll be walking you home, mornings and afternoons no matter what” he said.

“does that really matter? i mean, no one sees us” you sighed.

“that’s what you think, my friends are stalkers it’s actually scary”

“whatever”

��we’ll be posting pictures together which means we’re going to have to go on date—“

“im gonna stop you right there” you cut him off middle sentence, “you can just use pictures from pinterest”

“what?”

“there’s no chance im going on dates with you” you argued.

“you agreed to this fake dating, you need to face the consequences”

you groaned and he continued, “kissing is not prohibited, you can kiss me whenever you want, if it’s necessary”

you felt like throwing up hearing this sentence.

“who’s gonna buy that? just yesterday you were bumping into me and acting like a total bitch in front of everyone” you rolled your eyes.

“it’s as simple as that, we’ll say we’ve been forced by our parents to come as a couple to an event and we had a deep conversation about our past and after a while of reuniting i asked you out and we decided to hide our relationship until now” he shrugged.

“wow,” you clapped, “you thought about it the whole day yesterday didn’t you?”

“no…” he scratched his nape and looked everywhere but at you.

“sure” you nodded, completely not believing what he just said.

“anyways it’s all settled, we’ll be posting a picture today after school” he said and was about to leave the classroom.

“one more thing,” he said, “pda is a must, therefore you’d have to give me your hand and we’d have to go hand in hand to classroom”

“just say you want to hold my hand, i’ll take that into consideration, but i’m not interested” you asked annoyed.

“you wish someone would actually want to hold your hand out of his own will” he rolled his eyes.

“you haven’t touched a single soul in your entire life”

“just shut up” he sighed.

“never as long as your annoying ass is right besides me”

he just groaned and took your hand.

“starting now” he nodded, “it’ll make everyone confuse until we reveal our relationship”

“yuck, even calling it a relationship is making me want to throw up”

“hope your stupid brain knows it’s mutual but whatever, just don’t act like that when we’re together”

walking through the hallway while everyone is whispering and glancing at you was never a problem to sunghoon, it was a big problem for you though.

you tried letting go of sunghoon’s hand to stop the whispering and glancing but he held you tighter.

“it’s okay, calm down i’m here with you” he whispered.

as much as you’d like to deny it, it made you feel somewhat safe.

however, it’s the park sunghoon we’re talking about. your worst enemy.

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you whispered back.

“and we’re here, outside your classroom” he changed the subject and stopped right outside of your class while everyone else kept looking at the two of you.

“i’ll wait for you after class” he winked and left a peck on your forehead before leaving to his classroom.

you so wished you could wipe it off at the moment. or at least, you think.

“what the fuck did i just saw?” karina walked up to you as soon as sunghoon left.

“we have a lot to catch on” you sighed and dragged her inside the classroom.

“and you agreed?!?”

“ms. karina and ms. y/n, would you like to share to your class what were you talking about?” the teacher knocked on the desk.

“no, we’re sorry” you said quietly and the teacher went back to teaching.

“you told me to follow what my heart says!” you whispered-yelled to her.

“i didn’t think it’d say to agree to it!!” she replied back.

“well i did, and now i’m stuck with the worst person ever”

“maybe he’s not that bad”

“get out karina”

“can’t, we’re in the middle of a class” she shrugged and you groaned.

“so you’re now dating your worst ever enemy, the infamous woman in this highschool, choi y/n?!!”

“yes jake, i don’t know why it’s so surprising to you” sunghoon rolled his eyes as he took a bite from his lunch.

“surprising only to him? sunghoon, just a few days ago you called her an attention seeker bitch, now you’re telling us you’ve been dating for a few months already?” jungwon asked, concerned.

“well we did great at hiding didn’t we? our parents told us we should sign to drama classes”

“nothing here makes sense” jay shook his head.

lying to his friends about his whole relationship life? was definitely not and never will be on his list but he couldn’t care less about the list anymore.

“life doesn’t make sense, jay” sunghoon sighed, “it just happened, now i can’t stop thinking about her, it’s like i want to spend every minute with her”

“ew, not in front of my salad” riki gagged.

“although it makes no sense to me, i’m happy for you sunghoon, so proud of you for finally getting along with someone” sunoo pat his back.

“hey what do you mean by that?”

“from childhood friends to childhood enemies to lovers, that sounds like an actual pretty good story genre” heeseung crossed his arms and nodded.

“can’t believe you haven’t told me anything about it!” taesan, who for the first time in a while joined their lunch table, lightly pushed sunghoon, completely in disbelief.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you about it before” sunghoon nodded.

sunghoon’s a bad friend. a very, very bad one.

a few weeks ago he had a conversation with who he considers as his best friend, but how could he face him now after this conversation?

“hey hoon! i wanted to ask you something” taesan bit his lips, a bit anxious to start the conversation.

“yeah dude, what’s up?” he asked.

“i know you and y/n are….not on good terms, but i actually started spending some time with her and i’m really interested in her” his eyes lit up from excitement just by talking about you, “wanted to ask you if that’s okay that, you know….”

“yeah for sure! even though i hate this person with all my heart, i can’t decided on your life, can’t see how and why you’re interested in her but whatever, it’s yours” sunghoon shrugged.

“thanks sunghoon, i’m really glad i got you as my friend” taesan hugged sunghoon tightly.

sunghoon definitely knew about taesan’s little crush about you, and the day he told you that taesan has a little crush, he actually meant you.

back to today, sunghoon feels like his whole life was tearing apart.

how could he betray his friend like that? after everything taesan did to him. from helping him with studies to even paying for the things he couldn’t.

taesan shook his head and smiled weakly, “whatever makes you happy sunghoon” he said.

sunghoon was expecting him to shout at him and get mad about it, but was actually surprised he took it well somehow.

‘i’m doing this for you too’ sunghoon thought, after all, he has the perfect plan for taesan and y/n.

“thanks taesan” sunghoon hugged him tightly and pat his back as a sign for asking for forgiveness.

“that’s not gonna work, too many people are looking at us” you complained as soon as you got out of your last class for the day and noticed sunghoon who was already waiting for you outside.

“with popularity comes the consequences” he shrugged and you rolled your eyes.

“enjoy lovebirds!” jay shouted as he walked past you.

“let’s go” he extended his hand out for you to hold it but you shook your head.

“i promised taesan i’ll review his essay he wrote”

“you can do it tomorrow—“ “can’t, plus you said you’ll help me with taesan, we can go on your stupid fake date later”

sunghoon rolled his eyes and sighed, “fine, i’ll walk you to the library”

when he noticed you smiling he couldn’t help but feel that weird feeling of excitement, but then he realized you were not smiling because of him.

“hey y/n!” taesan smiled warmly at you when he noticed you, “and sunghoon” he added quietly.

“hey taesan” you called with a wider smile on your face and sunghoon nodded.

“i’ll pick you up later then” he said and walked away.

“so…you and sunghoon huh?” taesan asked.

“ugh, don’t even— i felt everyone’s eyes on me throughout the whole day” you groaned.

“you don’t seem that happy with that”

“because i’m not! i’m so tired of it already, i should’ve known not to agree to that deal”

“what deal?”

“uhhhh” you freaked out, how stupid can you actually be??

“nothing!! no deal” you giggled nervously.

“if you say so” he shrugged and opened his laptop to show you his essay.

“why dont you just tell him?” karina asked you over the phone.

“and what will i say if he asks why i agreed to the deal?”

“simple, ‘i did it because i want sunghoon to help me date you’, like that”

“sure, it’s that easy” you rolled your eyes.

“how was your first day dating sunghoon anyway?”

“he took me to get some ice cream, he actually remembers my favorite taste”

“yeah i saw on your instagram story, if i didn’t happen to know that this is all fake i’d actually believe it” she said teasingly.

“can’t believe i’m saying this but” you sighed, “he’s not that bad to hang out with”

you expected a reply from her right away but all you heard was silence.

“karina?”

“i can’t believe this conversation is not being recorded” she finally spoke.

“forget that i said tha—“ “no no no! please continue”

“well….he was actually super nice and even paid for my ice cream, even found a nice spot and brought me his jacket since it was starting to get cold” you said calmly.

“y/n”

“hm?”

“you might end up falling in love with him instead of taesan” she said and you scoffed.

“are you forgetting that he literally ruined my life?”

“i said what i said!” she argued.

eventually you ended the call and drifted off to dreamland.

“so….”

a few days passed since you revealed your (fake) relationship and today was the first day you sat with seven other people at your lunch table.

“you and sunghoo—“

“stop it”

“sunghoon and yo—“

“shut it!”

sunghoon’s friends tried to ease up the awkward situation but were shut off by you and sunghoon.

“we just think it’s weird that’s all!! it’ll pass sooner or later” jay chuckled.

“so y/n, how’s life?” riki asked.

“seriously?” sunghoon raised his brow.

“babe, it’s okay,” you almost gagged after using the nickname on sunghoon, “life’s fun, you never know which surprises awaits for you”

you raised sunghoon’s hand and showed everyone your locked hands.

“ew, don’t need to use those nicknames and act all cheesy here” jake teased.

“you wanted to meet my girlfriend didn’t you? here she is” sunghoon spoke.

that’s when it got to you. sunghoon lied to his friends about having a girlfriend! why did he choose you though? out of hundreds of students.

“you’re right” heeseung nodded, “if you already know each other so well, why don’t we ask you questions about sunghoon and you answer?”

“baby you don’t have to—“ “it’s okay, hit me with the questions”

“sunghoon’s favorite color?”

“white”

“his favorite season”

“used to be winter, it’s autumn now”

“favorite ice cream flavor?”

“um” you froze for a second.

“ah ha! got you”

“coffee”

“aw man, you suck!” riki said in disappointment after you answered all the questions correctly.

sunghoon in the meantime was busy staring at you and daydreaming.

when did you become so pretty? with your cute eyes that lit up every time you answered a question correctly, and your lips that formed into a smile when you noticed you won over his friend’s questions.

how come you remember those details about him as well?

he had tons of questions, but curse his inability to communicate well, he’ll probably leave those questions unanswered.

the only thing he does know, is that he’s scared to fall in love with you.

“babe? are you ready to go? let me walk you to the field now, you have practice”

you called him and he zoned out, for a second there he really forgot this is all fake.

the way you’d look at him and call him babe, it made him feel so weird, he had never felt like that before.

“yeah” he slightly nodded and got up.

when both of you arrived at the field he stopped in front of you and frowned.

“what if i’ll just take you on a date instead of practice?” he asked.

“sunghoon what the fuck? we’re all alone here nobody sees you, you don’t need to act all lovey dovey” you snapped back.

“right” he said, almost sounding too disappointed.

“i’ll go back now to the library, taesan’s waiting” you smiled and started walking away.

“pull yourself together sunghoon” he sighed and entered the field.

“hey” you called taesan as you saw him already sitting at your usual library desk.

“hey y/n!” he called you back excitedly.

“missed being with you after school, i went on too many dates with sunghoon lately” you sighed.

“yeah” he whispered, you could hear a bit of disappointment in his voice but he shrugged it off quickly, “hey how about instead of studying we’ll go hang out, i got pretty tired of reading today”

“sure! of course, i would love to!!” you excitedly replied.

taesan got up and held your hand, “let’s go watch some movies”

practice ended and sunghoon went straight to the library without even showering first. he couldn’t wait telling you how his friends couldn’t stop talking about you and praising your (again, fake) relationship.

he looked at the clock and it was usually around the time you and taesan would finish and get out, only this time you were nowhere to be found.

sunghoon started to freak out, what if something bad happened to you? did taesan leave you alone? what if he did something bad to you?

no, no. sunghoon was just freaking out.

he tried calling you, but your phone was turned off, you weren’t available.

he ran all the way to your home and asked your mother if she happened to see you, but got a negative answer.

“why, is she missing?” your mother asked and tried to stay calm.

“no of course not!” sunghoon awkwardly said, “we’re just playing hide and seek that’s all, i was wondering if she walked all the way here to hide in her room”

seriously sunghoon? that’s the best thing you got?

“alright, have fun!” it seemed like it made your mom believe him!

“y/n where the fuck are you?” he whispered to himself.

he decided to call taesan, “if he’s not answering i swea—“

“hey dude, what’s up?” his friend on the other line answered calmly.

“do you happen to know where y/n is?” he straightforwardly asked.

“yeah, she’s right next to me, didn’t she tell you we’re going to watch some movies?” taesan’s voice stayed calm but on the inside he was smirking.

taesan 1, sunghoon 0.

“she probably forgot or something” sunghoon giggled, “when do you plan on coming back?”

“don’t know, but don’t worry dude, i’ll make sure she gets home safely”

“yeah, okay” sunghoon said and ended the call.

“who was that?” you asked.

“your boyfriend, didn’t you tell him we’re here?”

“oh no, i forgot about it”

“yeah he was worried sick”

“i think we should head back now” you let out a sigh.

“okay, sure” he nodded and both of you got up.

you don’t know why you said it instead of staying the whole night just watching random movies with your longtime crush.

what the hell did this fake dating with sunghoon do to you?

taesan walked you until it was already safe for you to walk alone, you argued with him that it’s fine and your house was a minute away, he tried insisting but you didn’t budge.

both of you knew why you wanted to walk over to your house alone.

sunghoon 1, taesan 1.

you really tried using you muscle memory and walk to your door with your eyes closed so you won’t have to meet with—

“well who do we have here”

“i really didn’t want to see you here now” you sighed and opened your eyes.

“i was worried sick! why didn’t you just send me a text or whatever?” he spit out and you never really realized how irritating his voice is until now.

“what are you? my mom? why do i have to tell you my whereabouts?” you snapped.

“we’re dating, of course—“ “hell no we’re not, this whole thing is fake and you know it, i dont owe you shit, park”

for the first time sunghoon was stunned and speechless because of you. he did not know what to say or even process what the hell just happened. and why the fuck was he so annoyed by you going to the movies with taesan?

“if you dont have anything to say just go” you sighed and just like that he left.

you finally got inside your room and laid on your bed, thinking about your last events and how stupid it was of you to go home early because of that fucking rat who was ‘worried’ over you.

your phone buzzed and when you looked at the caller ID you smiled.

“just checking that you arrived safely”

“i’m not a five years old kid taesan,” you chuckled and got up to sit on the edge of your bed, “besides, it was a minute walk from where you left me”

“alright, was just checking if you were still alive” he giggled.

“hey taesan”

“hm?”

“let’s hang out more, i had real fun today”

“all i was just asking is for you to text me if there’s a change of plans! i was really worried because i knew i had to pick you up but you were nowhere to be seen” that is how your morning started, for the past few days it because a routine for you to have a morning and after school walk with sunghoon, and each morning you’d have a little fight.

this time, even though you hate to admit it, he’s right.

“you’re right, i should’ve told you beforehand, i just got super excited to go out with taesan so i forgot about it, besides you’re supposed to be happy for me, i’m finally getting closer to my crush” you huffed.

“thank you, and yeah, i’m super happy” he rolled his eyes and you nodded.

“another thing, heeseung’s brother is having a wedding in less than a month and we have to go there together, as a couple” he said, “after the wedding we’ll plan the break up and will part our ways”

“sounds like a plan to me” you shrugged.

“no matter what happens, please just show up to his brother’s wedding, i think heeseung already favors you so much, he always did but i always warned him not to get too close to you”

“obviously you did” you rolled your eyes, “but i will do it, for him and for his happiness”

“thank you” he said sincerely.

“wow, didnt know you could be genuine”

“just shut up and continue to walk”

two weeks passed and as much as you hate to admit it, dating sunghoon park isn’t something that bad.

you went to all kinds of ‘dates’ together, that one amusement park date was your favorite.

“no no no no! don’t go too high, y/n hold my hand tight!” he yelled on one of the roller coasters you forced him to get on, “i think i’m gonna throw up oh no, here it comes! i hate it here”

while he was busy yelling, you were busy laughing your ass off at him. he was cute, you admit.

it reminded you of that time you went to an amusement park together when you were kids, he remained the same, nothing changed.

as you got tired of the amusement park, he took you to a restaurant and both of you sat one in front of the other.

“i like it here, this place is designed so beautifully” you said.

“not as beautiful as you” he mumbled.

“hm?” you asked and he shook his head, “nothing”

“you know, it wasn’t so bad today, i really had fun” he started speaking, “reminded me of our childhood”

“yeah, i thought about that too” you nodded.

“i kinda miss it” i kinda miss you, he wanted to say, but he felt like it’d be too much.

sunghoon that day realized his strong feelings for you never left, and probably never will. your past antics were long forgotten and all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and tell you how much he loves you, and he have always had.

“i kinda miss it too” you replied and it was like an unspoken tension between the two of you.

none of you would talk after that and just walked home in silence, but it was a comforting one.

“girl, he’s super like, into you, and you’re so like, into him too” karina said after you told her about the amusement park date.

“am not! i’ve been actually going out with taesan a lot, i really really like him” you smiled.

“whatever you say girl!”

“i actually am going to hang out with taesan today, i’ll update you on everything, bye bae” you smiled and ended the call to get ready for your hangout with taesan.

an hour later he sent you a text that he’s already waiting and you got out of your house right away.

“you look, really pretty” taesan was being so stunned by your beauty that he forgot how to talk.

“thank you” you smiled, “so, where are we going?”

“a new arcade just opened and i know how much you love arcades so i just thought of testing it out”

“oh my god you really do know me so well!!” you took out your phone to text sunghoon about your whereabouts.

you became more responsible and it suddenly didn’t bother you as much to text him about it, it almost became a habit of you.

‘off to the new arcade that opened up with taesan, don’t you worry about me’ you texted him and closed your phone.

as you arrived your eyes roamed around the big arcade and suddenly you looked like a five years old child who just got their first ever vanilla ice cream.

“what are we waiting for? let’s just go!!” taesan cheered and you clapped.

after hours and hours of playing you both went to sit down by the nearest park there.

“it was so fun today, we have to do it again!” you grinned and taesan nodded.

it suddenly became so quiet and you noticed taesan was staring at you for too long.

“are you okay?”

“i know about you and sunghoon,” he spoke, “about your fake dating thing”

you were too stunned to speak.

“i heard you arguing on the same day we went to the movies, i wanted to check on you if you arrived safely but i noticed you and sunghoon talking and i couldn’t help but eavesdrop” he shrugged.

“oh” was all you could let out.

“i was actually glad to find out that this whole thing with you and sunghoon was fake”

“what do you mea—“ “i like you y/n, a lot” he cut you middle sentence and you felt so weird hearing his confession.

“oh! there you are!” before you could even respond to taesan you heard a voice calling the both of you.

you turned around and saw the one and only, park sunghoon. what was he doing here?

a few days ago taesan asked to meet up with sunghoon. he confessed to him about knowing your fake relationship and told sunghoon he was going to confess to you.

“i like y/n, a lot, you already know that” he said.

“what’s your plan?” sunghoon asked.

“asking her out after going to that new arcade” he exposed his plan, and sunghoon’s cue to stop the confession was a simple text from you about your whereabouts.

sunghoon for the second time chose to be a shitty and egoistic ass friend, and prevent his so called ‘best friend’ from confessing to you.

but of course sunghoon wouldn’t tell you all of that.

“me and y/n were planning to go on a date today! i guess she forgot” sunghoon smirked.

“cut it sunghoon, i know you’re not really dating” taesan clenched his jaw.

“doesn’t matter, i still made us a reservation for this new restaurant” sunghoon rolled his eyes and dragged you away.

you were too shocked by the whole scene that only when you arrived back to your home you realized what happened.

“did you just—” you sighed, “ruined my fucking chance with taesan?” you felt your blood starting to boil.

“what do you mean?” he asked confused.

“taesan just fucking confessed and you just fucking showed up and dragged me away, what the fuck were you thinking?” you shout.

“y/n i—“

“you what, sunghoon? want to ruin my life once again? just like you did with my painting from seventh grade and my crush from eighth grade?” you snapped.

“you seriously still hold that against me? we were in seventh grade for god’s sake!”

“and it ruined my life ever since then! did you become your family’s disappointment? because i did, oh! and funny enough, not only that seventh grade made them disappointed in me, but also my stupid crush on eighth grade that you decided to snitch on!” you looked at him in disbelief.

“what about my crush from nineth grade then, huh? not only you lied to her and told her i spread the rumors about her, you made me look like the bad guy and the other students refused to talk to me for months! you basically made everyone back away from me!”

“and rightfully so” you rolled your eyes.

“y/n, look” sunghoon ran his hands through his hair and sighed,

“save it park, i don’t want to hear from you ever again, i had a blast ignoring you for the last few years and i’ll continue having a blast if it’ll continue that way” you lied through your teeth, “we’ll only talk when necessary and cut ties after heeseung’s brother’s wedding”

“y/n” sunghoon called you again but you already walked away and entered your house.

sunghoon knows he fucked up, and he realized there were so many miscommunications between the two of you over the past few years and he didn’t know how to fix it.

meanwhile you, the minute you stepped inside your room and closed the door, you started crying.

you didn’t know how to feel with yourself. you were glad that sunghoon cut you off before you could answer taesan, because surprisingly so, you were about to reject him.

taesan is a nice guy, he really is, and he really was your longtime crush, until your old crush entered your life again.

you realized you gained back your feelings the moment sunghoon opened his mouth to genuinely talk with you, in fact, those feelings never really left.

you found yourself so focused on the way that his dimples would always show while smiling and talking to you, or the way his fangs would show up with every smile he gives you.

but you couldn’t help but let your blood boil after his whole ‘i’m not going to let y/n have another chance with someone’ show, it made you think about your past and you hated it.

the next few weeks felt normal to everyone but you, sunghoon and taesan.

you and sunghoon acted as if nothing happened between the two of you when someone you know happened to be around.

when you two were alone? hell, you won’t even shoot a glance at him.

and as for you and taesan, you told him it’d be better if the both of you would take a short break for a while, just for you to adjust everything.

sunghoon refused to let go of you so easily once again, he tried everything, calling, texting, even calling your parents to ask if you were home and maybe they can tell you to pick your constantly ringing phone up.

it all felt like a deja vu now, but not the good one. you were getting distant again and it scared him that the same thing will happen yet again.

“thank you for coming” sunghoon welcomed the person into his house.

“why are you so stressed? oh no don’t tell me you got someone pregnant”

“jay, i sometimes wonder if your last braincells are just off to go travel or something” sunghoon groaned.

“well, you seem so tense, what is it?”

sunghoon decided to tell jay everything from A to Z, they’ve been best friends for long and he feels like he can trust him wholeheartedly, plus he had to get some help from someone.

“i knew it the moment you told me both of you are dating! it felt so unreal”

“thanks a lot jay, it really helps”

“well, i think im getting a little deja vu for eighth grade”

“exactly! i don’t want this to happen again! i know i fucked up but i….” sunghoon sighed, “i’m willing to do everything as long as i won’t lose her”

“okay first of all, ew dude that’s so cringy” jay said in disgust, “second, i think you just need to give her some time, i’m sure that if you still haven’t heard about her and taesan dating, she might as well was about to reject him”

“then why would she get so angry at me? it doesn’t make sense”

“you took a whole ass opportunity from her to try and sort her things out, of course she’d be pissed”

“right”

“try to talk with karina maybe, she might help you out on this one” jay pat his friend’s shoulder, “besides, the wedding is in a few days and you told me you made her promise you to show up no matter what, it’s not like she can run away from you for long”

“i hate that you’re so right” sunghoon groaned and jay shrugged, “i’m just saying whatever comes to my mind, whenever it comes to my mind”

“what do you want, park?”

“wow you really sound like y/n now” sunghoon sighed as he saw karina looking at him uninterested, “i guess she already told you what happened”

“yes, she did” she also told me she’s scared because she actually has feelings for you, she wanted to say. but its not her place to say it anyway.

“how….is she doing?” he asked quietly.

“why do you care?”

“oh no please don’t make it harder than it already is” he mumbled under his breath.

“because, i need to talk with her, a serious conversation”

“oh no don’t tell me you caught feelings”

“how did you— nevermind, please tell her that i’ll be waiting for her, and i really want to sort things out between us” he sounded so desperate it scared karina.

“i’ll see what i can do” karina nodded and he bit his lips and smiled.

“thank you, thank you, thank you, thank—“ “i get it you can go now!”

he nodded as he got his bag and went for another practice.

“hey bae how are you doing today?” karina hugged you as she sat on your bed.

ever since your last encounter with sunghoon you started missing a few classes here and there, you didn’t really feel like going to school and seeing sunghoon anyway. that’s why karina came to check up on you.

“same as usual, i don’t know”

“i know what you’re thinking” she said and you looked at her creeped out.

“relax, it’s nothing scary” she laughed, “i just know you’re thinking about him”

“am not!” you argued.

“yeah, and i’m queen elizabeth”

you can’t stop thinking about sunghoon, she wasn’t lying really.

you realized how messed up your whole story was. you need answers from him, you need the apology you’ve been waiting to hear, the confirmation that he misses you as much as you miss him. you need to hold him tight and never let him go again.

“fine, you got me” you sighed.

you wish you’d know how to sort things out without going crazy.

“he came up to me today,” she said and your eyes sparkled, “he asked me about you, he’s been so desperate to talk with you, he looked and sounded really sincere”

“i don’t know karina, i’m not sure if i’m ready to face him without getting angry again, it’s just that whenever i see him my blood just starts to boil when i think about our past”

“that’s your problem, you refuse to let go of your past” she put her hand on your shoulder, “just let it go, and get the answers and confirmation you need from him”

you decided not to show up at school ever since your conversation with karina.

sunghoon tried checking up on you multiple times but each time you’d lie to your mother who opened the door for him and told her to tell him that you’re sick. both of you knew it was wrong.

sunghoon was going crazy, his friends couldn’t stop asking about you and about your whereabouts and he could only lie and say that you’ve got really sick and that he’s been taking care of you.

he asked karina about you again and again, until she got tired and told him everything, about your wellbeing and your health.

he was so worried for you it surprised her, he was really acting as if he’s your real boyfriend.

karina would lie if she said she didn’t confuse him as your boyfriend for a while.

“here” sunghoon handed karina a notebook.

“what’s that?” she asked.

“i took some notes on this class, give it to y/n please”

“sunghoon, i’m not some kind of—“

“i know i know you’re not a delivery guy but, i don’t know how to give it to her in any other way” he sighed.

oh the poor guy, she really pities him.

wedding day came and sunghoon was going back and forth in his room.

will you be coming? should he pick you up? you promised him! if not for him then for heeseung!

at the end, jay called him and told him it was becoming too late and he should just come without you.

sunghoon left his house with a heavy heart and empty hands, that were supposed to hold you tightly and close to him.

“hey hoon! you came!!” heeseung welcomed his friend with a hug and a big smile over his face.

“where’s y/n?” he asked.

“oh y/n, she really wanted to come but—“ “but what?” he was cut off by someone else.

when he looked over his shoulder he found you, walking over to them and putting your hands together on sunghoon’s right shoulder.

“i was getting ready and it took me too long to come, so i just told sunghoon to go away so he won’t be late because of me” you smiled and planted a kiss on sunghoon’s cheek.

“i’m so glad you came!!” heeseung smiled widely and hugged you tightly.

sunghoon was still shocked seeing you there, first you walked in, looking gorgeous than ever in the outfit you put on yourself, then you went and put your hands over his shoulder and lastly, you kiss his cheek.

he froze and zoned out for a few seconds until you waved your hands in front of him.

“let’s get in! it’s about to start” you were about to walk in but sunghoon was quick enough to pull you back to him.

he was holding your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“first, you walk in here, looking prettier than any other person here, no offense to the bride, then you smile and kiss my cheeks. i don’t understand, what’s happening?” he asked, his face is closer than ever to yours.

“i don’t want to open it up now—“ “if not now then when?”

you sighed and closed your eyes.

“i only have one question”

“shoot”

“did you really regret what you did back then?”

“of course i did, i still do” he reached your hand to hold it, “look at where it got us”

“why did you ruin my chance with my crush back then?”

“you said only one question”

“okay so maybe now i have more”

“i did it,” sunghoon stayed quiet for a second, is this the right time to confess? “because i really liked you, and i still do” fuck it.

“when we started to fake dating i realized those feelings never left, everytime i look at you i just cant help it but smile, i think it’s way beyond just ‘like you’, i love you y/n” he let go of his hold on your waist and held both of your hands in his.

you stopped breathing for a second as you tried to process what you just heard.

“park sunghoon” you whispered and he hummed.

“i’m here baby”

“i hate you” you said and sunghoon could swear his heart dropped.

“i hate you for making me hate you so much to the point it ruined our friendship for so long” you continued, “you could’ve confessed your feelings and we could’ve been the best highschool couple by now”

sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows, he got so confused by your words.

“if you still didn’t get it, i happen to love you too, you dumbass” you laughed.

without giving you a warning he pulled you into a kiss with a big grin on his face.

it was a desperate kiss, as if he was waiting to do this for so long. both of you didn’t want to part away but you did eventually because of the lack of oxygen.

“i can’t believe we fucked this up because of this stupid painting in seventh grade” that was the first thing he said afterwards.

“you fucked this up and it’s not just a stupid painting!!” you argued and he laughed as he hugged you tightly.

“i’m joking, i’m really sorry for that, and for the crush thing in eighth grade too” he grinned, “but he was just not good for you, you had me the whole time and still wanted him”

you kissed him again and smiled.

“i was too blind i guess”

“can you two cut it off lovebirds? the wedding is about to start” both of you turned your heads and saw annoyed jay standing in front of you.

“sorry! coming” both of you said at the same time.

as you sat one next to each other, sunghoon interlocked your fingers together.

“hey” he whispered and you hummed.

“hearing ‘i love you’ from you really warmed my heart” he smiled, “just letting you know”

“oh really?” you asked and he nodded.

“i love you” you kissed his cheek.

“i’ll keep saying this until you’ll get tired of it”

“which is basically never”

jay groaned and turned to look at the both of you “can you please just stop being so lovey dovey oh my god”

“you were exactly like that on your first days with your girlfriend stop being such an attention seeker” jake rolled his eyes and jay hit him.

“shhhh!! why don’t we just pay attention to heeseung that’s crying right there?”

“just took a picture! will definitely use it to blackmail him!”

“poor little thing only wanted to get emotional in his brother’s wedding”

“soon to be us at sunghoon’s and y/n’s wedding”

and they lived happily ever after! i mean, as much as you can when you have those six people as your friends and karina’s nonstop questions about future kids.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst

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goldfades · 4 months ago

Text

STOLEN MOMENTS IN PARKING LOTS──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request!

─ summary | rafe tries to provoke jealousy by showing public affection for sofia, but as tensions rise, he confronts you and reveals his feelings.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x ex!fem!reader

─ warnings | NSFW!! (with plot) under the cut!! p in v, praise, pretty soft, nothing too cray but it's in the backseat of his car soooo. some angst in the beginning, rafe tries to fight someone (when does he not?), mention of drinking, ummm maybe cheating cause i lowk forgot about sofia cause bro does break up with her... but wtv! it's for the plot!

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! i actually love rafe more than i do life itself and... i wanna feed yall so PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME ANYTHING. anyways... sorry i just had to get that out there!!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The air feels thick around you as you weave through the crowded beach, trying to keep your gaze anywhere but on Rafe. His laugh, louder than it needs to be, cuts through the noise of the party, and you can’t help but notice Sofia wrapped around him.

She leans into his touch, her smile bright as his hands roam casually over her waist, like he used to do with you. You catch a glimpse of them, Rafe pulling her closer, his lips moving to hers in a display meant for everyone, but especially for you. You look away, forcing yourself to focus on the bonfire, the drinks, anything. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic pull. It’s like he’s everywhere at once, the weight of his stare pressing into you even though his attention should be elsewhere.

And maybe it is—his lips are on her—but his eyes, whenever you risk a glance, are always searching for you.

You tighten your grip around your drink, jaw clenched against the swirl of emotions building in your chest. Each stolen glance at Rafe pulls at something deep inside you, but you refuse to let it show. The heat of the bonfire warms your skin, the crackling flames a welcome distraction as you will yourself to block out the image of him with her.

The party hums around you, but all you can hear is his laughter—so familiar, yet distant, like he’s a world away, even though he’s right there.

But before the thoughts can spiral further, someone steps into your line of sight, blocking the view you’ve been pretending not to care about. You blink up, surprised to see a guy you vaguely recognize from around town, his easy smile and tousled brown hair a stark contrast to the tension thrumming inside you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth, the kind that carries well over the music. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You offer him a half-smile, more out of politeness than genuine interest, but something in you shifts—an instinct, maybe, to distract yourself, to prove to yourself that you’re fine. If Rafe can move, so can you. So, you shrug, meeting his gaze for longer than you have with anyone all night.

“Maybe I do,” you reply, your voice light despite the ache still gnawing at the back of your mind.

He steps closer, leaning casually on the railing next to you. “Name’s Tyler. You’ve been to these parties before, right?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, your eyes drifting briefly toward where Rafe stands before snapping back to Tyler. He follows your gaze but doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, once or twice,” you say, playing along.

Tyler’s grin widens, sensing an opening. “Let me guess, you’re not a fan of the scene? You don’t seem like the type to be into the chaos.”

You laugh softly, surprising yourself. “Not usually,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But it’s better than staying home.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, his eyes roaming over your face, lingering a second longer than necessary. “But I’ve gotta say, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

There’s a warmth in his words, a casual flirtation that makes it easy to forget the lingering tension in your chest. You tilt your head, giving him a look you haven’t given anyone in a while—playful, even if only for the moment. “And why’s that?”

His smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans in, lowering his voice. “Because I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

You feel a small spark of satisfaction flare inside, the kind that comes from knowing you’re being noticed, admired, even if it’s fleeting. You toy with the edge of your cup, glancing up at him beneath your lashes. “Well, aren’t you charming.”

Tyler laughs, a low, easy sound that feels like a balm against the tension in your mind. “Just telling the truth,” he says, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the fire. “Want to grab a seat by the bonfire? I’d hate for you to be stuck standing here all night.”

You hesitate for a second, glancing toward the beach where Rafe and Sofia are still tangled in each other. But the sight no longer stings as much—it’s dulled, replaced by a sudden urge to push back, to be seen with someone else, just as he’s parading her around. It’s petty, you know that. But right now, you don’t care.

“Sure,” you say, offering Tyler a real smile this time, one that lights up your eyes. “Why not?”

As the two of you make your way to the fire, you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you, burning hotter than the flames, but you don’t look back. Not yet. You settle onto one of the logs beside Tyler, letting his easy conversation and light touches distract you, pretending for a moment that you don’t feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze following your every move.

A few hours (and drinks) later, you find yourself leaning against Tyler’s car, his hands on your waist, lips trailing down your neck as the distant sounds of the party fade into the background. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been out here, away from the noise, away from him. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, making it easy to forget about the tension that had been gnawing at you all night.

Tyler’s mouth finds yours, and you lean into it, closing the gap between you. His kiss is heated but unhurried, his touch light on your skin, and for the first time tonight, you let yourself slip into the moment. The back of your mind, the part that’s always aware of Rafe, quiets—just for now. Tyler’s hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace soft patterns over your waist.

For a few blissful seconds, you don’t think about Rafe at all. It’s just you, Tyler, and the cool night air pressing in around you. Tyler’s touch is comforting, a distraction, a way to escape the complicated mess of emotions Rafe always drags you into. And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of what used to be.

Tyler breaks the kiss, his lips still brushing against yours as he grins. “You sure know how to make a guy’s night, sweetheart,” he teases, his voice low and breathy, pulling you in even further.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Do I, really?” You reply, matching his grin, feeling the haze of everything slip further away.

Tyler’s hands tighten around your waist, his mouth once again capturing yours as you press against the cool metal of the car. His kisses are eager now, more insistent, and you match his energy, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. The taste of alcohol lingers between you, the sound of your breathing mingling with the distant crash of waves and faint music from the party you left behind.

You close your eyes, momentarily letting go of everything—of Rafe, of the tangled mess he left behind in your head. Tyler’s lips move against yours, and for just a second, you feel light. Free.

But then, everything shifts.

The tension in the air thickens in an instant, and you sense it before you even open your eyes. A sudden presence, looming and charged, like a storm about to break. When you finally pull back from Tyler and glance up, your heart stumbles in your chest.

Rafe stands a few feet away, his expression dark—dangerously dark. His eyes lock onto yours first, blazing with an anger so intense it makes your stomach flip. Then his gaze flicks to Tyler, and you can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe’s voice is low, almost a growl, but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

Tyler, oblivious to the storm he’s just walked into, straightens up, his arm still loosely around your waist. “Relax, man,” he says, trying to sound casual, though there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice. “We were just—”

Rafe doesn’t let him finish. He takes a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with barely-contained fury. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he spits, his eyes still fixed on you. But then his gaze cuts back to Tyler, and something dangerous flashes there. “But if you don’t get your hands off her right now, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Tyler scoffs, dropping his arm but not backing down. “What’s your deal, Cameron? She’s not your girl anymore.”

Those words are like a lit match thrown into a gasoline fire.

In an instant, Rafe’s on him, shoving Tyler hard against the side of the car. “What did you just say?” Rafe’s voice is low and menacing, his face inches from Tyler’s. His fists are white-knuckled, trembling with the need to unleash the anger bottled up inside him. “You think you can just put your hands on her like that?”

Tyler stumbles, but he manages to push back, his hands coming up defensively. “Chill, man! It’s not that serious!”

But it is. For Rafe, it’s everything.

You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the wild, desperate look in his eyes as they flicker between you and Tyler. He’s spiraling, and you know this side of him all too well—the part that lashes out, that destroys when he feels like he’s losing control.

“Rafe, stop,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended, cutting through the haze of tension. You step forward, placing yourself between him and Tyler, your hand pressing against Rafe’s chest. His muscles are taut beneath your touch, coiled and ready to explode. “This isn’t worth it.”

For a moment, Rafe doesn’t move. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his eyes locked on yours, searching, desperate for something he can’t find. He looks down at your hand on his chest, and for a second, you think he might back down.

But then he shakes his head, his voice tight with frustration. “What’s your fucking problem?” he snaps, his words aimed at you now. “Do you not miss me? Is this how you move on?”

You flinch, taken aback by the raw vulnerability buried beneath his anger. His words hit harder than any shove, cutting through the defenses you’ve been trying to build all night. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat.

Rafe’s hands grip your arms suddenly, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching, the anger faltering for a split second as something else flickers there—something almost like hurt. “Tell me,” he demands, his voice quieter now, but no less desperate. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”

Rafe's grip tightens for a fraction of a second, his eyes still locked on yours, searching for something, anything, that will ease the storm raging inside him. His question lingers between you, thick and heavy, but you can’t answer him, not here, not like this. Tyler, still lingering nearby, lets out an irritated scoff, but there’s a tremor in it. He knows better than to challenge Rafe further—everyone does.

You feel Rafe’s breath against your skin, shallow and ragged, as if he's waiting for the moment you confirm his worst fears. But instead of answering him, you take a deep breath, your hand brushing over his chest. “Come on,” you murmur, voice softer now, low enough that only he can hear. “Let’s go.”

For a brief moment, Rafe hesitates, his gaze flickering toward Tyler, like he’s still deciding whether to throw another punch. But your hand slides down, gently tugging at his arm, and his attention snaps back to you. Slowly, his grip loosens.

Tyler, sensing the shift, straightens up but keeps his distance, his bravado from earlier slipping away as he watches you lead Rafe toward the beach. “Whatever, man,” Tyler mutters, though his voice wavers, betraying the fear he's been masking. “You two deserve each other.”

You don’t even look back at him, and Rafe doesn’t either. His focus is entirely on you now, the tension between his clenched jaw and the way he follows your lead without protest. Tyler slinks off, disappearing into the crowd as if he’s suddenly remembered who he’s dealing with.

As you walk further from the party, the sounds of the bonfire and distant music grow fainter, leaving only the soft rush of the waves and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. Rafe’s fingers brush against your hand, and though the anger in him hasn’t fully burned out, his pace slows as the two of you near the shore.

The silence between you is heavy, electric. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down, the tension thick enough to suffocate. His frustration, his desperation—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface. But now, without an audience, without the pretense of Tyler or Sofia, it feels rawer, more exposed.

Rafe stops just shy of the water, his grip on you tightening again, though not out of anger this time. It’s almost as if he’s holding onto you for stability, for some anchor to stop him from drowning in whatever dark place his mind has gone. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, his voice quiet, rough around the edges, but no longer carrying the rage that had consumed him moments before. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”

You feel the words clawing at the back of your throat, the urge to lash out or deflect, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes it impossible. Instead, you stand there, caught between the pull of the past and the mess of emotions swirling around you now.

It’s all too complicated, and yet somehow, painfully simple. You’ve never stopped caring. But Rafe… Rafe has always made things more difficult than they needed to be.

Rafe’s question lingers in the salty night air, hanging between you like a taut string waiting to snap. His eyes search your face for something—an answer, an apology, anything to make sense of the confusion brewing in his mind. But you’re not ready to give him what he wants. Not yet, at least.

The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore fills the silence between you, your pulse racing in time with the waves. You look away, focusing on the dark horizon, your toes sinking into the cool sand as you try to gather your thoughts. Why are you doing this? The question echoes in your mind, but it’s not as simple as Rafe seems to think.

Maybe it’s because you’re tired—tired of feeling like he’s pulling the strings, tired of the toxic push and pull of your relationship. Maybe you’re doing it because it hurts too much to care about someone who only seems to care when you’re slipping away. Or maybe it’s because, deep down, you know that no matter how hard he tries to provoke you, to force a reaction, the person who’s really hurting is him.

You glance at him, and for the first time in a while, you let yourself really look. His eyes are still wild with anger, but there’s something else there too—something that cracks through the hard shell he’s built around himself. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his breathing ragged from the tension that’s been gripping him since the moment he saw you with Tyler. His hands, though no longer tight on your arms, still linger, as if afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go entirely.

“I’m not acting like I don’t care,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended. There’s a vulnerability in the admission that makes your stomach twist, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I just… I can’t do this with you, Rafe. Not like this.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, his brows furrowing, but then he hesitates, the frustration flickering in his eyes giving way to something closer to desperation. “Then how?” His voice is quieter now, too, though it’s laced with an edge of exasperation. “Tell me how, because I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the ache in your chest keeps you from it. He doesn’t know what to do? The guy who’s spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, parading Sofia around like some twisted declaration of victory, now stands in front of you, unsure, vulnerable.

But this is Rafe Cameron. The boy who hides his insecurities behind anger and control. The boy who pushes you away just to pull you back in, like some sick game where neither of you ever really wins.

“You think this is all my fault?” you ask, taking a step back, breaking the physical connection between you. His hands fall away, and though his body stays rooted in place, his expression twists as if the loss of contact has left him exposed. “You think you can just act like that all night, throw Sofia in my face, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”

Rafe winces at your words, and for a moment, he looks away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to—” He stops, gritting his teeth, clearly wrestling with what to say. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Right,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “Because trying to hurt me is the only way you know how to get my attention?”

He stares at you, his lips parting like he wants to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, he clenches his jaw and looks down, the anger draining from his posture, leaving behind only exhaustion. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says finally, so quietly you almost don’t hear him over the waves. “I just… I didn’t know how to make you miss me. I don’t know how to do this without screwing it up.”

The confession hits you harder than you expect, a crack in the armor he’s always so careful to maintain. It’s the first time all night he’s shown you anything real, anything beyond the bluster and anger he uses to shield himself. And it leaves you speechless.

Rafe lets out a frustrated breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down at the sand, avoiding your gaze. “I know I’m not… good at this. At us.” His voice wavers slightly, like admitting it is a betrayal of the tough, unshakable image he’s spent his whole life building. “But I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. Especially not him.”

There it is. The raw, vulnerable truth buried beneath layers of anger and bravado. The truth you’ve always known but never heard him admit out loud.

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of his words settle into the hollow ache in your chest. “Rafe… I can’t keep doing this. The fighting, the jealousy—it’s too much.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how exposed you feel saying it out loud. But it needs to be said.

His eyes snap back to yours, wide and frantic, as if he’s afraid you’re slipping through his fingers. “I’ll stop,” he blurts out, stepping closer, the desperation back in his voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t—don’t walk away.”

You bite your lip, torn between the part of you that wants to believe him and the part of you that knows it’s not that simple. He’s said things like this before, made promises in moments of weakness, only to fall back into old patterns when the anger returns. But this time, there’s something different in his eyes—a genuine fear that this might really be it.

“I don’t know if you can stop, Rafe,” you say quietly, the honesty of your words hanging heavy between you. “You’re always so angry… and I can’t be the one trying to fix it every time.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he absorbs what you’ve said. But then, to your surprise, he nods, his expression shifting from desperation to something more resigned. “You’re right,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am angry. But not at you.”

You blink, taken aback by the admission. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged that the rage he carries isn’t about you—not really. It’s always been deeper than that, rooted in things he’s never fully let you in on.

“So what then?” you ask, your tone softer now, more searching. “What are you so angry about?”

Rafe looks away again, his jaw clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back. But then he sighs, running both hands through his hair in a gesture that screams frustration. “Everything,” he mutters, his voice rough. “My family, my life… I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You watch him, your heart aching at the sight of him so lost, so broken. For a moment, all the frustration you’ve felt toward him melts away, replaced by the familiar ache of wanting to help him, to fix what’s been broken between you.

But you know that’s not your job. It never was.

Rafe’s confession hangs in the air, weighty and raw, his vulnerability exposed in a way that catches you off guard. For a moment, all the anger and frustration that has built up between you feels insignificant. The walls he keeps so tightly guarded have crumbled, and in their place, there's a boy you recognize—a boy desperate for something solid in a world that’s been spiraling out of control.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach out, brushing your fingers against his arm. His breath hitches at the contact, and slowly, his gaze finds yours again. His eyes are dark, a mix of anger, longing, and something deeper, something that’s always been there but never fully spoken between you two.

“I’m not walking away,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice as the tension between you thickens. “I’m still here, Rafe. But you need to figure out what you want… and stop trying to hurt me to get there.”

His expression softens at your words, the desperation giving way to a flicker of hope. For a moment, he just stares at you, his lips parted like he’s trying to say something, but no words come. Instead, he steps closer, his hands brushing your waist, hesitant, as if testing the boundaries between you.

“Tell me what to do,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how to fix this.”

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and despite everything—despite the anger, the games, the toxic cycle—you find yourself leaning into him. The truth is, you don’t have all the answers. You never have. But standing this close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, you know one thing for certain—you miss him. As much as you’ve tried to push him away, you can’t deny the pull that’s always been there, the magnetic connection between you.

“You start by being honest with me,” you say quietly, your fingers finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as if anchoring yourself. “No more games, Rafe.”

He nods, swallowing hard as his hands slide up your waist, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. “I’ll be honest,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a rush of heat through your body. “I’m done with the games, baby.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s desperate and hungry, all the frustration and longing pouring into the contact. It’s not gentle; it’s raw and unfiltered, like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back just as fiercely. The world around you blurs into nothingness—the sound of the waves, the distant party—it all fades away until the only thing that exists is him. His hands roam your body, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, and you melt into him, the heat between you building with every passing second.

He pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips move with a kind of desperation that makes your heart race. It's overwhelming, the way he kisses you, the way he holds you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You feel the intensity of everything he's been holding back—the anger, the pain, the desire—and it ignites something deep within you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, but he doesn’t let you pull away for long. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat, and you can’t stop the soft moan that escapes your lips. His name tumbles from your mouth in a breathless whisper, and you feel him tense against you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and hoarse as his hands slide under your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Your heart stutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice taking you off guard. It’s not just the physical connection that’s pulling you back in—it’s the raw emotion behind it, the way he’s finally letting you see the side of him he’s been hiding for so long.

And then, somehow, you find yourself back in parking lot, against his car. His lips never leave yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

“Rafe…” You barely manage to get his name out as he lifts you slightly, pushing you against the side of his car, his body pressing you firmly against the cool metal. His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Your mind spins, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the way he touches you, the way he kisses you like he’s afraid this might be the last time. There's a desperation in the way he clings to you, like he's trying to make up for every moment he's hurt you, every second he's pushed you away.

Rafe’s hands grip your hips as he pulls you tighter against him, his touch searing through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way his body presses into yours is almost suffocating, but in a way that you crave, like you’ve been starved for this kind of contact for too long. His lips move against yours with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, a contrast that leaves you dizzy, struggling to catch your breath.

Every kiss feels like a question, as if he’s asking for more, for you to let him in completely again. And you want to. Despite all the games, all the hurt, there’s something undeniable about being with him—something that makes your heart race in ways you haven’t felt since the beginning.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as his hands slide up your back, his fingertips grazing the bare skin just under the hem of your shirt. It’s almost like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, as if this is his last chance to make things right.

His lips leave yours for just a moment, trailing down your jaw and finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. You shiver as his hot breath fans against your skin, your body reacting instinctively to his every move. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, and you feel him pause, his breath hitching at the sound.

You feel his hand reach for the door behind you, opening it before he practically threw you into the backseat. Rafe climbs on top of you, and his lips are on yours again. You moan at the contact, your head falling back into the cool leather of his backseat. God, how you missed those cushions.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion, barely holding himself together. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, and you feel his desperation in every touch, in every kiss that follows. It’s not just physical—there’s a vulnerability there, a need that goes far deeper than the surface.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s truly saying. This isn’t just about the heat of the moment or the chemistry that’s always drawn you two together. It’s about him finally letting you see past the walls he’s built—past the anger, the bravado, and the façade he shows everyone else.

You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his lips move lower, trailing down your collarbone, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The world around you seems to blur, the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the soft hum of the party fading into the background until all that’s left is the two of you, tangled together in the dim glow of the night.

He leans back slightly and all you could hear in the darkness of the night was the clink of his belt, and a shiver went down your spine as you think about what's coming. You almost immediately slip out of your shorts as you slid back, giving yourself enough room to spread out before Rafe is in between your legs.

You can make out his face in the darkness, the faint moonlight casting shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that have always had a way of making you feel seen—and sometimes too exposed—are locked on you, and it makes your heart (and pussy) beat faster.

“Rafe,” you breathe, your voice barely audible as his lips return to yours in a searing kiss. It’s slow this time, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands slide up your sides, taking the edge of your shirt with them, and your breath hitches as you feel the cool night air against your skin.

Then, you feel his warm tip against your thigh. Never leaving your lips, Rafe slowly leans his cock right into your sopping pussy. You let out a soft moan, the feeling of being filled up by his cock again making your head spin with pure bliss.

“Oh, shit,” he draws out as his head falls back, the feeling of your warm cunt overwhelming. “God I missed you, pretty baby.”

And it feels like time has stopped, like the only thing that matters is the heat between you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly, like this is where you’re meant to be. His hands roam over your back, your sides, exploring with a kind of urgency that makes your pulse quicken as he pushes in deeper into your pussy.

It hurts, at first until he bottoms you out. He's still for a moment as he leans his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy. After he felt you tighten around him, he instantly pulled your hips before he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, as if he was warming up.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out as your hands find his shoulders. Your breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as you cling to him, your body responding to his in ways that are both familiar and intoxicatingly new.

He's fucking into you at this point, his own grunts echoing in the empty car. You could feel the windows begin to fog up as his thrusts become more sharp, more meaningful. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you can’t stop yourself—you don’t want to. You’ve missed this, missed him, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

At the sound of your cries of pleasure, Rafe chuckles breathless. “Oh, yeah? You like that?”

All you could do was nod as he begins increasing the speed of his thrusts, he was rocking into you with brute force but he was still gentle, somehow. His hands reach up to find your throat, holding it as he fucks into you harder. Rafe lifts your hips a little more so that he could reach that sweet spot, and you knew it was over.

“Rafe, fuck!” You cry as your head falls back into the cushion, your mouth slightly open and your eyes rolling back in your head. You're shaking, at this point—you're not holding back whatsoever.

Anyone who was walking by his car could probably see and hear what's happening, and probably think he was murdering you. And they were right, he was absolutely obliterating your insides. But you didn't care, and neither did Rafe.

His breathing is heavy, matching the erratic rhythm of his hips, and he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. His scent—a mix of saltwater, cologne, and something distinctly him—invades your senses, grounding you in the moment, making everything else disappear.

“Oh, my god I'm gonna—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the tight knot in your stomach snaps and it feels like everything is still for a moment. You can't even hear yourself anymore, it feels like you were on a cloud as you cum around his cock.

A few more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you, his own body shaking above you. His lips find yours in a sloppy and desperate kiss, his hips keeping you placed right beneath him. He doesn't pull out—no, he wouldn't even dare. He doesn't want to. Not yet, of course. You both just lay in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

“I missed you,” he finally whispers, his voice rough and edged with something almost like pain. His fingers tighten around your waist, as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and your heart stutters at the vulnerability laced in them.

For a moment, neither of you moves. His breath is warm against your skin, his presence overwhelming but somehow comforting, like a weight you didn’t know you needed. You want to say something, to respond, but the words get caught in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

Instead, you reach up, your fingers grazing his jawline, feeling the stubble under your fingertips. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—an acknowledgment of what you both know but can’t yet fully voice. His eyes close at the contact, and for a split second, the tension melts away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

Then his lips are on yours again, but this time it’s different. It’s slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands trail up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer, and your body responds in kind, the need for him growing stronger with every kiss.

You lose yourself in the feeling of him—how perfect he feels when he's inside of you, the heat of his skin, the way his fingers trace patterns along your back. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in the darkness, tangled together in a way that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything else fades away. The jealousy, the anger, the hurt—it all dissolves into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, caught in a moment that you know you won’t soon forget.

You’ve been through hell with Rafe, and maybe there’s more waiting ahead, but right now, none of that matters. Right now, all you can think about is him—the way he touches you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing that’s real.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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flkwh0re · 8 days ago

Text

Silent Observer

Warnings: Fingering, Oral, Mommy kink (A), Dark-ish themes, Using sex as a form of manipulation (reader isn’t aware tho)

Word Count: 1,073

Author’s Note: The whole thing of when this took place didn’t really benefit the story but i just had an itching to make some 1940s detective story. 😪 (my masterlist url isn’t working so if you enjoy this pls don’t hesitate to check out my masterlist linked in the pinned post on my profile ☹️)

Agatha was just about fed up with the amount of work thrown on your lap!! It was the summer of 1946 for gods sake, the war had been over for nearly a year and the country was phenomenal! You should be out enjoying the crisp summer evening, but there you were hidden away in that small office for hours.

A small knock came at your door, "Sweetheart, can I come in?" Agatha said softly, "Yea, come in." She opened the door and gracefully walked towards you, as you stretched and adjusted yourself in your seat. "Hey hon, I brought you a cup of water. Why don't you have a break? You've been working all damn day!" Her tone made you chuckle.

"I would if I could dear, but this is quite the case. The amount of women who just showed up dead, just months after the war ended, who has clearly died months before." You paused, sighing. Who could do such a thing? Many of these women were unknown, but a few were mothers. "What makes it worse is the way they died, it seems supernatural?"

Agatha sighed, "Oh honey you need a break!" Her usual laugher erupt from her chest, why was she laughing? You looked at her, a confused expression held to your face. "Oh darling, don't make that face it's not pretty. I just think you're crazy for considering the supernatural."

You leaned your head back, neck resting on the top of the chair as you stared up at the ceiling. "You're right, but I still have lots of work to do." Agatha's veiny hands stroked at your hair. "Oh sweetheart, take a break please. You're tense, and your eyes are drooping. Let me take care of you?"

You raised a brow at the tone she gave in the finish of her sentence, "What do you mean by that gorgeous?" Her signature, sinister smile crept its way onto her lips. "I believe you know."

Her hand traveled from your head to your lap, her hand resting on your thigh. You tilted your head, turning to her. Her lips met yours, a moan of relief leaving your throat. Her lips passionately entangled with yours, the hand that rested on your thigh moved to rest on your cheek.

Your tongues fought against one another, but inevitably fell to your demise as Agatha won the fight for dominance. Her fingers went for the clasp of your pants, undoing them and shoving her hand in your pants without even hesitating. Her fingers traced the wet patch that had already began to form. "Fuck Aggie." You whined.

"Is that my name?" She asked, your head shook in a 'no'. "Mommy." You corrected, earning a nod from Agatha. "That's a good girl." Her finger slipped into your underwear, softly rubbing at your clit. As you went to gasp, your lips were reclaimed by Agatha.

She spread your wetness around, then abruptly slipped a finger in you. "Oh, fuck- fuck Mommy that feels so good." You mumbled as her fingers pumped in and out of you. "You look so pretty taking mommy's fingers baby, such a pretty girl." A whine of annoyance came from you.

"Don't be a brat sweetheart, just remember whose fingers are inside you right now sweetheart." She said, words that will now never leave your mind, you'll be lucky to even get anymore work done today. Agatha doesn't mind at all though.

"Mommy m'close!" You managed out, but she stopped. Whines of protest came from you. "Hush, I don't wanna end my fun yet."

She moved you to your desk, all the paper you'd neatly organized were now strewn across the floor in messy piles but you honestly couldn't fucking care. All you were worried about was the woman in front of you, whose fingers were currently unbuttoning your shirt.

"Fuck darling you're so gorgeous." Her eyes scanned over your breast, down to the waist band of your underwear. Her lips landed on your nipple, assaulting the bud. Her teeth tugged it, your hand instantly went to the back of her head to give her some sign to calm down, but failed.

She trailed kisses up your neck, marking you up. You knew you'd get shit for that Monday, but you didn't care. "I need to mark up your pretty skin, let everyone know that you're mine." She rasped in your ear. "All mommy's." You replied which caused a satisfied smile to creep on her lips.

She kissed down your stomach, and around your hips. "Let me get these off you." She pulled down your pants, discarding them and your panties somewhere for you to find later. "So pretty and so wet." She beamed in awe, as she stared at your slick covered pussy.

Agatha wasted no time getting her mouth on you, her tongue traced the perfect pattern over your clit. Your hips jerking around, even though she held them tightly. You gripped her hair, and pulled her as close as possible to you. Your eyes couldn't stay off her as her tongue hit every inch of you.

Fingers were added into the mix of her tongue, the sensation almost too much to bear. "Fuck! Mommy I'm gonna cum, please.." You begged, Agatha looked up at you. You dazed and fucked out eyes stared back down at hers, she loved you like this.

Finally she gave you the go to, "Cum for mommy baby, make a mess on my tongue." And you saw stars. "Thank you mommy, thank you so much. I love you." You babbled on, but she hushed you and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

"Don't thank me sweetheart, you deserved that. Now why don't we forget about work for the night and let me take care of you? Go find something on the telly and we'll relax on the couch. I'll fix your favorite food too." You agreed, and she helped you to your room to get cleaned up and changed.

Unbeknownst to you, the one who you loved oh so dearly, was the one you'd been hunting down this whole time. You even though she loved you, she wouldn't have hesitated for a moment to put you under her spell and protect you from the truth. She was the one who had murdered all those women, or in reality, witches. While she had you cuming on her tongue, all sorts of evidence pointing to her, gone.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x reader smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel one shot #marvel #agatha all along fanfic #agatha all along

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rafayelxsylusho · 6 days ago

Note

Hey love, your LADs fics are 🥵🔥🫠.

If you are accepting requests, could you pls write a College AU with the LADS men?

A study sesh leads to smut (can include love confession if not in established relationship).

Have a lovely day/night~ 💖

I hope I did it right. Enjoy!

College AU with the LADS men 🎓

Part 1: Zaynexreader

TW: SMUT

**Both reader and Zayne are Med students**

Zayne looks up from his textbook, his eyes meeting yours as you walk into his dorm room. His room is tidy, almost clinically so, really different from your own chaotic space down the hall. Zayne has always been the organized one, the responsible one, while you...well, you were something else.

"Your room is still a disaster zone, I take it?" he asks, arching an eyebrow. When you smile and nod, he laughs softly and shakes his head. "I don't know how you manage to live in such chaos."

Zayne's gaze drifts over your textbooks stacked in your arms, his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in your appearance, noting the dark circles under your eyes and the way you seem to be running on pure adrenaline. He sets his textbook aside and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"Tell me you got some sleep last night," he says, there is concern in his voice. "You look exhausted, y/n. I know this semester has been tough on you." he looks at you like a parent waiting for their child to confess to staying up too late. "And your test?" he asks when you don't immediately answer. "How did it go?" Zayne knows you had an important test this morning. He's been quietly supportive, offering to quiz you or just listening as you vented about the material leading up to it.

"I survived," you sigh, as you flop down on the bed across from Zayne's desk. "But I don't think I did as well as I needed to. I swear, every time I think I've got it, I realize there's a whole other layer to learn."

You groan, burying your face in one of his pillows for a moment before sitting back up to look at him "I don't know how you do it Zayne. Don't you ever just want to give up?"

He stands and walks over to his mini fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. "Here, drink this. You look dehydrated." Zayne gives you the bottle before sitting on the edge of his bed next to you. His brow furrows with concern as he watches you drink deeply from the water bottle, his eyes searching yours.

"Y/n, how many hours of sleep did you actually get last night?"

"Two," you say quietly. " Maybe a little more". His expression softens as he listens to you. He knew you were pushing yourself too hard, but hearing the confirmation of just how little sleep you'd gotten hits him like a punch to the gut.

"Lay down for a bit. I'll wake you up in two hours, and we can continue with your study session then." There's a gentle authority in his voice, Zayne's not going to let you talk your way out of this one. He knows you need the rest, and will make sure you get it.

As you hesitate, he reaches out to take the now empty water bottle from your hands, setting it aside on the nightstand. His fingers linger on yours for just a moment, a silent plea for you to listen to him.

"Please," he murmurs, his eyes holding yours. "You can't keep doing this. You need to take care of yourself if you want to make it through this program." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly over the dark circle beneath your eye. It's a tender gesture, full of care and concern. He's not just your study partner and best friend, he's the one person who truly sees you, exhaustion and all.

"Fineeeee, whatever you say Dr Zayne"

He watches as you lay down on the bed, your head coming to rest on the pillow. He feels a bit of concern seeing you so drained, but also a sense of relief that he convinced you to get some much needed rest. Almost as soon as your head touches the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing evens out.

You startle awake, your heart racing. You're not used to sleeping so deeply, especially not in the middle of the day. As you blink the sleep from your eyes, you become aware of a warm, solid presence next to you on the bed. Turning your head slowly, you find yourself face to face with Zayne, his body next to yours. He must have dozed off while you were sleeping, still clutching his textbook in his hands, now lying open and forgotten. Soft snores escape his slightly parted lips, a light frown etched between his eyebrows as if even in sleep, he's focused on the complex medical diagrams. He looks almost boyish in sleep, the hard lines of his face softening, a lock of dark hair falls across his forehead, and there's a vulnerability to his stillness that makes your heart clench. For a moment, you just watch him, taking in the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the long lashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks. Then, carefully, you reach out and pluck the textbook from him setting it aside. Zayne stirs slightly at the loss of the book, but doesn't wake. In sleep, his hand finds yours, as he settles closer to you. Your fingers intertwine instinctively, and you feel a rush of warmth spread through you at the contact.

You feel the heat of Zayne's breath ghosting over your face. Even in sleep, he seems drawn to you, his hand tightening around yours as if he's afraid you might disappear if he lets go. A soft blush rises to your cheeks at the intimacy of the moment, at the way Zayne's face is inches from your own. Your heart starts to race for a different reason now, a fluttering sensation that has nothing to do with the sudden awakening and everything to do with the man next to you.

You've shared countless study sessions, late night talks, and inside jokes with Zayne, but this...this feels different. More intimate. More charged with a tension you've never dared to acknowledge before. His eyelids flutter, and for a moment you think he might wake. You hold your breath, but he doesn't wake. Instead, he just sighs softly, his breath fanning over your lips. You know you should pull away, give him space, but you find yourself rooted to the spot. Captivated. Your free hand comes up to brush a lock of hair from Zayne's forehead, your fingertips lingering on the soft skin. He's so warm. So real. So...inviting.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry despite the water Zayne had given you earlier. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you see Zayne's eyes flutter open at the movement. For a moment, you're frozen, caught in the hazel gaze that seems to see right through you. Then, slowly, Zayne's eyes focus on you. Confusion clouds them for a moment before a flicker of something else, something hotter, sparks in their depths. His grip on your hand tightens.

"You're awake," he murmurs, his voice husky from sleep. His gaze drops to your mouth, stays there for a long, charged moment. You feel your heart pounding against your ribs, your breath coming faster. The air between you feels thick, heavy with a tension you've never dared to put a name to before. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a sensual caress that sends a shiver up your spine. "How are you feeling?" he asks, but there's something else to his question, a double meaning that makes your cheeks flush hotter. And you know you should answer, should break this moment with a silly comment or a joke but you can't seem to find your voice. You're too busy drowning in the heat of Zayne's eyes too busy wanting...wanting more. Wanting to close the small distance between you and feel his lips on yours, wanting to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer until there's no space left between your bodies.

But you don't. You can't. Because this is Zayne. Your best friend, the one person you trust above all others. The one person you can't afford to mess this up with, so instead of giving in to the temptation, you take a deep, shuddering breath and try to gather your composure. You wet your dry lips again, your voice a bit husky as you manage to choke out an answer.

"I...I feel better," you whisper, your eyes still locked with his. "Thank you for...for letting me sleep." It's a clumsy reply, but it's the best you can manage in this moment.

Zayne's eyes search yours for a moment, as if trying to find the true meaning behind your words. Then, slowly, he nods and starts to sit up, his hand sliding from yours and leaving you feeling suddenly cold. "I'm glad, you needed the rest." He glances at the clock on the wall and frowns slightly. "I'm afraid I may have let you sleep a little longer than we intended though."

He starts to gather up the scattered pages of his textbook, his movements a little stiff, a little self-conscious. It's clear that he's feeling the shift in the atmosphere as much as you are. "We should probably get back to studying," he says, not meeting your gaze as he stacks the pages neatly. "You've got that big test coming up, and you need to be ready." He says it lightly, but there's a tightness to his voice that wasn't there before. A tension that has nothing to do with the impending test.

You nod slowly, sitting up as well and swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You feel a little unsteady, a little off-balance. And it's not from the sudden awakening.

"Yeah," you agree softly. "You're right. I should get back to it."

You stand up, stretching slightly to work the kinks out of your muscles. As you do, you catch Zayne watching you from the corner of your eye, his gaze intense and unreadable. A shiver runs down your spine at the weight of it, and you quickly busy yourself with straightening out the rumpled blanket on the bed, avoiding his stare. "I'll just...I'll just go freshen up real quick" You say, hurrying towards the bathroom, needing to put some space between you, to collect your racing thoughts and calm the frantic pounding of your heart.

Once you are in the bathroom you splash water on your face, and take a few deep breaths, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. But no matter how much cold water you use, you can't seem to banish the memory of Zayne's sleep-roughened voice, the heat of his breath on your face, the way his hand felt curled around yours.

You shake your head sharply, pushing the thoughts away. You can't afford to think like that, not about Zayne. He's your rock, your constant, the one person you know you can always count on. You can't risk destroying that.

Squaring your shoulders, you take one last deep breath and step back out into the bedroom. Zayne is sitting on the bed, his textbooks spread out in front of him, his glasses perched on his nose as he scans the pages intently. For a moment, he looks like a picture of concentration, the very image of the dedicated medical student. As you approach, he glances up, and you see the flicker of something else in his eyes. Something warmer. Something that makes your heart stutter in your chest. "Is everything all right?" he asks softly, a note of genuine concern in his voice. He stands up, taking a step towards you, and you find yourself looking up at him, your breath catching in your throat.

"I...yes," you manage to say, your voice a little steadier than before. "Everything is fine.

"Good," he says, and there's a quiet satisfaction in his voice. He gestures to the bed, "It will be good for us to review the material together," Zayne continues, his voice warm and encouraging. "We can go over the key points and make sure you've got a solid grasp of everything before the test"

He steps closer to you, his hand coming to rest lightly on the small of your back as he guides you towards the bed. The touch is innocent, a gesture of friendship and support "Sit down," his breath stirring the hair at your temple. "Let's get to work."

Zayne watches as you chew thoughtfully on a grape, your eyes scanning the medical text. Hours have passed, and despite the late hour, you're both still engrossed in the material, determined to ensure you're fully prepared for the upcoming test. As Zayne sits in his chair, he flips to a new page in his textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he glances up at you, ready to ask a question, he notices a small, glistening droplet of grape juice on your lower lip.

For a moment, he's distracted, his focus torn between the anatomical diagram on the page and the tempting sight before him. He clears his throat softly, trying to regain his train of thought.

"Y/n," he begins, his voice a little rougher than before. "What are the primary symptoms of acute kidney injury?"

As he waits for your response, Zayne finds himself leaning forward slightly, his gaze still fixed on your mouth. The drop of juice on your lip, threatening to drip down at any moment.

He swallows hard, his heart beating a little faster in his chest. He knows he should look away, should focus on the important task at hand. But he can't seem to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing sight of you.

Finally, as if sensing his stare, you glance up from the textbook. Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, time seems to slow. Zayne's breath catches in his throat as he realizes he's been caught staring, his pulse jumping at the realization.

"The primary symptoms are...decreased urine output, blood in the urine, swelling in the legs or ankles, nausea, and fatigue." You begin, your voice clear and confident despite the late hour.

As you speak, he watches, as the grape juice slowly slides down the curve of your lip. It leaves a glistening trail in its wake, a path that draws his eye like a magnet.

"And then there's the secondary symptoms," you say, unaware of the effect you are having on him "Hematuria, azotemia, electrolyte imbalances..."

As you speak, he feels a sudden, overwhelming urge to close the distance between you, to lean in and catch that glistening drop of grape juice with his tongue.

When the thought hits him it leaves him momentarily breathless. In this moment, with the late hour and the intensity of your study session, he finds himself fighting with a desire he's long suppressed.

As you wrap up your explanation, Zayne quickly looks down at his textbook, needing a moment to collect himself. He clears his throat, trying to will away the sudden tightness in his pants and the heat rising in his cheeks.

"That's...that's correct, y/n," he manages to say, his voice a little rougher than intended. "You've got a solid grasp of the material. That's impressive."

You smile at Zayne's praise, feeling a surge of pride and accomplishment. The late-night study session had been intense, but seeing the approval in his eyes made it all worthwhile. As your smile widened, the droplet of grape juice that had been perched on the curve of your lower lip began its descent.

Zayne, already on edge and distracted by his sudden surge of desire, doesn't hesitate. Acting on pure instinct, he reaches out and across the short distance between you, his thumb outstretched. In a soft gesture, he brushes his thumb along your chin, catching the errant drop of juice before it can fall any further. The touch is brief but electric, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you can react, Zayne's thumb trails upwards, coming to rest gently on the plush, soft skin of your lower lip. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and in that moment, the air between you feels charged with a new energy. His gaze is intense, his eyes searching yours as his thumb lightly traces the curve of your lower lip. He's waiting for a reaction, for any sign that you feel it too this sudden, undeniable spark of attraction that's impossible to ignore.

His voice is a low murmur, almost a whisper, when he finally speaks. "You had a little... grape juice," he explains unnecessarily, his thumb still resting on your lip. "I just... I couldn't let it go to waste."

He feels his breath hitch in his throat as your small, pink tongue darts out and laps at the remnants of the grape juice on his thumb. The sensation of your wet, warm tongue against his skin sends a jolt of electricity straight through him, settling heavily in his lower abdomen.

"Now it won't," you say softly

As you hold his gaze, Zayne feels the last of his restraint slipping away. The walls he's built to keep his feelings locked away, crumble like sandcastles against a tide.

Slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away, Zayne leans in closer. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his long fingers splaying gently against the warm, smooth skin. He tilts your chin up slightly, angling your face towards his.

"I've wanted to do this for so long, y/n," he confesses. The scent of his words is tinged with the faint aroma of the grapes you were eating, a heady and intoxicating combination. His eyes flick down to your lips, now glistening and parted slightly from your earlier actions.

"Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained with tension. "Tell me you don't feel this too, and I'll stop. But god, I need to know if you want this as much as I do."

Your heart races as you feel Zayne's breath mingling with yours, his lips now centimeters away from your own. The heat of his skin, the intensity of his gaze, it's all so overwhelming and intoxicating.

"Don't stop," you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. It's all you manage to say before you close the final centimeter of space between you, your lips pressing softly against his. The moment your mouths meet, it's like a spark igniting a wildfire. Zayne's lips are soft and firm against your own, molding to the contours of your mouth as if he was made to fit there.

You hear a low groan escape from the back of his throat as you deepen the kiss. His fingers tighten slightly on your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your cheekbone. You press closer, your hand coming up to tangle in the short, dark hair at the nape of his neck. Your fingers thread through the silky strands, anchoring him to you as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth moving against your own.

Zayne pulls back from the kiss just enough to hook his hands under your armpits. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he lifts you up and out of the bed, bringing your body flush against his own. As his lips claim yours again, his hands slide from your armpits down to your waist. He grips you firmly, his long fingers splaying across the small of your back as he pulls your curves snugly against the hard planes of his own body.

Still lost in the intensity of the kiss, he starts to walk you backwards, his body pressed against yours, until the soft give of a wall meets your back. He breaks the kiss just briefly as your back hits the wall, long enough to flash you a look that's equal parts hunger and desperation. His eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide with desire, and his chest heaves with each breath he takes.

"You drive me crazy," he rasps, his voice strained and rough with want. "If I take you to bed now, I won't be able to hold back. I'll lose control, and I don't want to rush this."

You close the distance once again and your teeth graze his bottom lip "Please Zayne" you whisper.

Unable to resist your urging, Zayne gives in to your demand. He leans into you, allowing you to tug his shirt upwards and expose the toned, muscular chest beneath. His abs are defined, each muscle group carved by years of dedicated discipline. As his shirt clears his head, Zayne captures your wrists in his hands, pinning them gently but firmly against the wall on either side of your head. He looms over you, his larger frame caging you in, his eyes roaming hungrily over your face and body.

"Please, what? Tell me what you want, y/n. I need to hear you say it."

His hips press against yours, the hard, thick length of him evident even through the fabric of his pants. He grinds slowly against you, letting you feel every inch of his desire. His hand releases one of your wrists to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. His touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the rough, desperate edge in his voice.

"Tell me," he demands, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. I'll give you everything."

"Zayne," you breathe out, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you, all of you" You feel his hands grip the backs of your thighs, his long fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he hoists you up. He lifts you effortlessly, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist as he pins you against the wall with his hips. Once he feels your legs secure around him, Zayne's hands slide up, his palms skimming over your thighs and coming to rest on your hips. He squeezes gently, his fingers digging into your curves as he holds you in place. Sensing your movements, Zayne leans back just enough to allow you to remove your shirt. As the fabric falls away, revealing your bare skin and the delicate lace of your bra, his breath catches in his throat.

"Fuck" he breathes out, his gaze hungry as it roams over your exposed flesh. Unable to resist, Zayne leans down and starts to place open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. His lips and tongue map out the delicate skin, tasting you, teasing you, as his hands slide up your sides. They come to rest just below the band of your bra, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and filled with promise, silently asking for your permission to continue.

You reach back, fingers unhooking the clasp of your bra. The lace falls away, baring you completely to his hungry gaze. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, your chest heaving with each breath, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of the room.

"Perfect," Zayne murmurs, his voice a low, appreciative rumble. "Absolutely perfect."

He lowers his head and draws one straining peak into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, teasing it, before he suckles hard. His other hand kneads the soft weight of your other breast, rolling and plucking at the neglected nipple. Zayne's hips press harder against yours, the thick ridge of his arousal grinding against your core.

"Zayne," you gasp, your head falling back against the wall as pleasure courses through you. "Please, I need more." Your hands fist in his hair, anchoring him to you as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him closer, silently begging him to take you.

Zayne releases your breast with a wet pop, his lips moving to your other breast to give it the same treatment. He suckles and nips, his teeth grazing your skin, marking you. His mouth never leaves your breasts as he carries you towards the bed, his lips and tongue continuing their relentless assault on your sensitive flesh. He walks backwards and as the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, Zayne sits down, allowing you both to tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. He rolls you over, positioning you beneath him. Zayne's hands roam your body, caressing every curve and dip, as if committing your form to memory.

Still focused on your breasts, he kisses and licks, suckles and nips, until your back arches off the bed and your fingers tangle almost painfully in his hair. Your nipples are reddened and swollen, glistening with his saliva, and aching for more of his touch. Zayne pauses in his ministrations, glancing up at you with a playful smirk as he slowly unzips your skirt. As he removes it he takes in the sight of your blue panties adorned with a tiny snowman.

"I wasn't exactly planning on seducing you tonight," you admit with an embarrassed blush, biting your lower lip. "I didn't think we'd end up like this."

Zayne's eyes soften as he takes in the pretty blush coloring your cheeks and the swell of your breasts. He finds your embarrassment endearing, charming even. It's a rare sight, given how composed and put together you usually are.

Zayne shakes his head and smirks "I'm glad you didn't plan this," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Because if you had, you might not have chosen such...cute underwear"

He glances down at the snowman grinning up at him, then back to your blushing face, his smirk widening into a genuine, boyish grin. "Don't worry, sweetheart. They're perfect. Just like you, but let's get rid of them, shall we?" he whispers, his voice low and seductive "I want to see all of you."

Zayne takes his time peeling your panties down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin. As the fabric slips past your knees, he tosses them carelessly aside, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

When you instinctively close your legs, Zayne pauses, his hands resting on your thighs. "Open them for me, pretty girl," his voice filled with desire. His hands start to slowly push your thighs apart, his thumbs brushing over your inner thighs and sending sparks of pleasure racing through you, and when your legs part for him, his gaze drops to your exposed sex, his eyes darkening with hunger and need.

"Fuck, love," he breathes out, his voice strained. "You're so beautiful. I could look at you for hours." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh, making you shudder in anticipation. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent, before placing a soft, open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. His lips and tongue work their way slowly up your inner thigh. He places kisses to your skin, occasionally grazing it with his teeth, sending jolts of pleasure and pain straight to your core. He takes his time, savoring your taste and scent, drawing out your anticipation and desperation. The closer he gets to your aching, empty sex, the more your hips squirm and cant upwards, seeking his touch.

"Zayne, please," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to urge him on. He nips at the sensitive skin where your thigh meets your sex, making you gasp and your hips jerk involuntarily. He places another kiss, higher this time, his lips brushing against your lower lips. At the same time, he pushes your thighs further apart, opening you up to him completely.

"Tell me what you want," he urges, his breath hot against your cunt. "Tell me how you want me to touch you."

"Please, I need your mouth on me. I need your tongue, your fingers, something."

Without warning, he dives in, his mouth latching onto your sex with a hunger that steals your breath away.He kisses and sucks, his lips moving against your sensitive flesh as he explores every inch of you. His tongue delves between your folds, stroking along your slit and dipping teasingly inside you.

"Mmm, you taste even better than I imagined," Zayne rumbles, his words muffled against your sex. He looks up at you, his eyes glinting as he holds your gaze. "I could feast on this sweet cunt for hours, my love."

He then seals his mouth over your clit, suckling hard as he slides two long fingers deep inside you. He pumps them slowly, curling and twisting, stroking that spot that makes you moan his name. Your back arches off the bed as you cry out, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Suddenly he pauses, looking up at you with a playful glint in his eye. He smirks, his fingers still buried deep inside your throbbing sex. "How about we make this interesting, love? We can practice what you've learned today."

He starts to withdraw his fingers slowly, his thumb brushing over your clit and making you gasp. "Let's start with a simple one. What's the medical term for the heart?" He watches your face, his fingers poised at your entrance, waiting for your response.

"Fuck, it's c-cardio," you stutter out, your voice breathless and shaky with desire.

"Good girl," Zayne purrs, rewarding you with a slow lick along your slit. "What's the primary function of the kidneys?" His fingers dip back inside you, pumping shallowly, teasing you as he waits for your answer. Your hips twitch, trying to pull him deeper, but you force yourself to focus.

"F-filtration and secretion," you manage to say, your words coming out in a rush.

"That's right," Zayne murmurs, placing another lingering lick on your clit before suckling gently, rewarding your correct answer. "The liver's main function?"

"Nghh, m-metabolism and detoxification," you gasp, your head falling back as pleasure courses through you.

"Mmm, excellent. The brain's primary function?"

"I can't....Zayne please..." you pant, your fingers gripping the sheets as you fight the urge to grind yourself against Zayne's face. "I...its controlling and coordinating actions and..and ...activities,"

He wraps his lips around your clit and gently sucks it, his fingers pump faster, curling to stroke that special spot inside you with each thrust. You can feel your release building, your walls starting to flutter around his fingers.

"Lungs' primary function?" Zayne asks, his voice a low rumble against your sex.

"Res...respiration," you cry, your hips bucking up to meet his hand as your climax fast approaches.

"That's my clever girl," Zayne praises, sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking gently once again.

Zayne feels your walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers, knowing you are teetering on the brink of your climax. He looks up at you with intense eyes, his voice low and urgent.

"This is the most important question, my love. How many chambers does the heart have?"

His fingers pump faster, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside you with each thrust. His thumb rubs firm circles over your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"Four!" you scream, your voice breaking and cracking with the intensity of your impending climax. At your desperate scream of the correct answer, Zayne dives back in, his mouth latching onto your sex with renewed hunger. His tongue circles your clit exactly four times, each rotation perfectly measured and deliberate.

As he completes the fourth rotation, you finally shatter. Your body convulses as your orgasm crashes over you like, your sex clenching and fluttering wildly around his fingers.

Zayne groans, feeling your release gush over his tongue and fingers. He works you through it, his mouth and hands never stopping their assault, drawing out your pleasure until you collapse back onto the bed, boneless and spent.

Zayne crawls up your body, his eyes filled with satisfaction and pride. He cups your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals your breath away. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it only makes you feel more desired.

"Good girl," Zayne praises. "You did so well, my love. I'm so proud of you."

You try to sit up, but Zayne gently but firmly presses you back down onto the bed, his hands resting on your shoulders. He shakes his head, giving you a playful smirk as he tucks you in snugly under the covers, pulling them up to your chin.

"Where do you think you're going, love? You need to rest now," Zayne says softly, his voice filled with a tender warmth that makes your heart flutter. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering to caress your cheek.

"You've had a long day. I want you to sleep now, sweetheart. Let your body recover and recharge." He settles in next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you close, spooning you from behind. He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair as he holds you possessively, protectively.

His hand rests on your stomach, his thumb rubbing gentle circles, a comforting, lulling motion. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back and the soothing sound of his voice soon has you both drifting off into a peaceful sleep. Unaware that once you both become respected doctors in your respective fields, you find yourself transported back to this day every time someone mentions the four chambers of the heart.

It could be during a lecture, a patient consultation, or even a casual conversation with a colleague. The moment the words "four chambers" leave their lips, you're instantly transported back to that bedroom, with Zayne's head between your legs, his tongue circling your clit in perfect, deliberate rotations as you screamed out the answer that brought you to the most intense orgasm of your life.

You'll feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you'll have to bite back a smile, glancing over at Zayne to see if he was also transported to that moment. More often than not, you catch him looking at you with a knowing, smoldering gaze, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. You know he's thinking about the same thing.

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jakescapes · 26 days ago

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𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖'𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨. (𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 1)

pairing: stalker!jake x reader (f)

synopsis: It all started when you met Jake Sim—the campus golden boy everyone adored. Charming, new, and impossible to resist, you quickly become his obsession. But as you fall deeper into his world, you realize the person you're falling for isn’t who he appears to be. And soon, you're trapped in a game you never agreed to play.

warnings: stalking, brief kissing in public, big tit reader, jake is kinda weird, panty sniffing, masturbation (m), light manipulation(?), part 1 is really not that bad tho, lmk if there are any more!

word count: 10.6k

author's note: so like i kinda hate this ㅠㅠ and i wasnt gonna make it into separate parts but i just wanna test the waters with this and see how much attention this will get first if that makes sense. also first time actually writing smut so idk if it sounds awkward, but pls give me any criticism you think needed! ty >.<

continue reading here

now playing: mind games by sickick

It all started when you met Jake Sim. He was the campus guy—popular with the girls, adored by the professors, the kind of person everyone gravitated towards, but still had the kind, innocent, and nerdy element to him. If there was a charity event, Jake was organizing it. If someone had tech problems, Jake was fixing them. He had this effortless way of making you feel like you were the center of the world when he spoke to you.

You weren't immune to it, either. As a new freshman, you’d heard his name long before you met him. So when you found yourself at a party a month into your first semester trying not to look out of place, Jake was the last person you expected to notice you.

You weren’t even supposed to be at that party. Crowded rooms filled with loud music and drunk strangers weren’t exactly your thing, but your new friend/roommate Ava insisted. She was the kind of girl who thrived in any social setting, the life of the party, effortlessly magnetic, something you learned the first day you moved in with her.

With her status as an upperclassman, she knew everyone worth knowing and had declared that you had to go to the “first party of the year” because it was “going to be epic.” So, naturally, she dragged you along.

Now you were nursing a watered-down drink in the corner of a house that smelled like cheap beer and vanilla-scented candles. Ava stood beside you, casually pointing out all the people she deemed ��important”—guys and girls she seemed to have endless stories about, whether those memories were good, bad, or in between.

“Oh!” she said suddenly, nudging you with her elbow. “That’s Jake Sim over there. Real nice guy, everybody loves him.”

You followed her gaze across the room. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to a group of people who seemed completely captivated by whatever he was saying. Even from a distance, it was easy to see why. He had that kind of face—sharp jawline, warm smile, the perfect amount of confidence in the way he carried himself. His dark hair pushed back slightly over his forehead, like it had been styled that way on purpose.

You nodded without saying anything.

“You know,” Ava smirked, “I feel like he’s been eyeing you across the room for a while.”

You blinked, startled. “No he hasn’t.”

“Oh, he has. He’s doing that thing guys do where they pretend to listen to the conversation but keep glancing at you like you’re the main event.”

And who’s to say you weren’t the main event? Sure, this was your first official college party and the atmosphere felt a little out of your comfort zone, but it’s not like you spent your whole life as some awkward wallflower. You’re hot and you have what it takes to make men gawk and stop to stare at you on the streets. Even if you were oblivious about it. Even if you didn’t care. Plus you were a new, young face to the campus. And what do college boys with raging hormones love more than some new, hot, fresh meat?

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off. I mean, yeah, Jake was cute, but you weren’t going to entertain the idea of him eye fucking you across the room from your very tipsy friend who definitely should take it slow with the alcohol. You came here to accompany your friend, not for some popular boy. And that’s what you were going to do. At least that’s what you told yourself.

You couldn’t help sneaking another glance in his direction. Sure enough, his eyes met yours for probably the hundredth time that night. Your breath caught for half a second as he smiled. Not a quick, polite one, but the kind of cocky and sly smile that made it seem like he knew something you didn’t.

“See?” Ava whispered, “Told you.” Before you could argue, Jake excused himself from his group of drunk friends and started making his way towards you. Your instinct was to bolt, but Ava was quick to grab your arm, holding you in place. “Oh my god, he’s coming over here.”

“Shut up. Don’t make it weird,” you hissed under your breath.

“Me? Never,” she said, but the mischievous glint in her eyes told a different story.

Jake stopped a few feet away, holding a red solo cup in one hand, the other casually tucked into his pocket. “Hey,” he said, his voice so smooth but unassuming that for a second you didn’t know if he was talking to you or Ava, until his eyes eventually met yours. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Jake.”

You hesitated for a moment, your throat dry. But Ava on the other hand, ever the social butterfly, was already beaming with her response. “This is _____. She’s a freshman. And she’s my new roomie.”

“Ah,” Jake said, his smile widening as he held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Freshie huh? Welcome to the chaos. If you ever need a hand settling in, don’t hesitate to ask. I know Ava over here wasn’t exactly the most put-together during her freshman year,” he playfully teased.

Ava rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” she replied in defeat. You could tell they shared some history together, though the details weren’t something you cared to uncover at the moment.

You shook his hand, feeling his strong grip and his overwhelming gaze. “Thanks,” you managed to mumble, your voice quieter than you intended.

Ava, clearly delighted, nudged you again before stepping back. “I’m going to find another drink. You two have fun.” She shot you a not so discreet wink, one Jake clearly noticed. He responded with a low, undeniably attractive chuckle that stirred something inside you, something you knew you shouldn’t be feeling.

And just like that, she was gone, leaving you alone with him.

Jake tilted his head slightly, studying you with an intensity that made you want to fidget. “So, what do you think of the party?”

“It’s… loud.”

He chuckled and you awkwardly laughed in return. “Yeah, not really my scene either,” he admitted. “I was actually about to head out. Want to join me? I know a quieter place where we can talk.”

You hesitated, something about his directness caught you off guard. You’d been in similar situations like this before—situations where boys had tried to talk you into following them to their rooms and the like. Now, you weren’t inexperienced when it came to men, but a one night stand with someone you’ve been conversing with for about 45 seconds didn’t seem like something you were interested in at the moment. But that wasn’t what Jake was implying. You could tell he wasn’t like other guys in the past, the ones who were all too eager to make their intentions clear. There was something different about the way he carried himself.

And something different, there definitely was. But we’ll get to that part later.

Jake was patiently waiting for your response while you contemplated. You looked up at him and he smiled again, that disarming, perfect smile, and for a moment, you forgot why you were even questioning it.

“Sure,” you replied, not realizing then that this was the moment that everything in your life would change.

------------------------------

“So,” you asked, glancing out the window at the quiet streets passing by, “where are we?”

Jake gave you a sideways glance, his hand relaxed on the wheel. “Just a spot I like. It’s nice to get away from all the noise sometimes, don’t you think?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, like he already knew you’d agree.

You nodded, leaning back in your seat. “Yeah, I guess.” The party had been a bit much for your taste, and the idea of some quiet didn’t sound half bad. “Do you come here a lot?”

“Not really, I usually only bring people I actually want to talk to.”

Your cheeks warmed at that, and you looked down at your hands, fumbling with the hem of your dress. “Well, that’s nice of you.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s not about being nice. You just seemed different. Thought it might be worth getting to know you better.”

His words caught you off guard, not knowing whether to take it as a compliment or not, but the way he said them felt so genuine, so effortlessly charming, that you couldn’t help but smile. “Different how?”

He shrugged, his eyes flickering to you briefly before returning to the road. “You’re not like everyone else. You’re not trying too hard, you’re just… you. It’s refreshing.”

Even though it sounded so cliché, he wasn’t lying. But it’s not like you were trying to be different. I mean, it wasn’t hard for someone like you to stand out from a crowd of drunk girls, definitely trusting their tiny tops and micro shorts way more than they should, especially at a college party, basking in the attention of young, hungry men. But maybe that’s what they wanted. Maybe they want the recognition, the attention. You don’t. Not because you couldn’t pull it off—you could—but you didn’t care to. You weren’t there for the feeling of lingering eyes on you, and that was obvious to anyone paying close enough attention. And Jake paid attention. Oh, he did for sure. The moment you walked in the room, he noticed the way you carried yourself, not chasing the spotlight like others. And also mostly because you weren’t trying to whore yourself out at every given moment like everyone else, girl or guy. But it intrigued him, igniting a flicker of curiosity and a peculiar intent that he’d never felt before in the back of his mind.

You let out a soft laugh, unsure of how to respond. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Don’t mention it.”

As the car slowed and he turned down a quiet street, you realized you weren’t sure where you were, but the thought barely lingered. Something about the way he spoke made it hard to think too much. It felt easy, almost natural, to trust him. And that was the scariest part.

------------------------------

The door clicked shut behind you, and before you even had a chance to set your bag down, Ava was already perched on her bed, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“So,” she grinned, tucking her legs under her, “how was it?”

“How was what?” you asked, feigning oblivion as you dropped your bag onto your chair.

Your roommate groaned dramatically, sitting up straighter on her bed. “The date! You leave me in the middle of a party that you were supposed to be my date for, with the most popular guy on campus!”

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “It wasn’t a date. We just… hung out.” You tried your best to sound indifferent, but Ava was already grinning.

“Whatever it was, tell me!” she demanded, practically bouncing on her bed.

“It was... nice,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you kicked off your shoes.

“Nice? That’s all I’m getting? Did you guys talk? Do anything?”

“No, we didn’t do anything. And I didn’t want to anyway. He was very respectful.”

“Of course he was,” Ava said, throwing her hands up like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, it’s Jake we’re talking about here. The guy’s practically perfect. Teachers love him, girls worship him, and he still manages to have this whole humble, good guy image.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Exactly. Nothing shocking there.”

“Still, I just had a feeling he’d be different with you.”

You froze for a second, glancing at her. “Different? Why?”

“Because I’ve seen how he is with other girls. Trust me, they throw themselves at him all the time, and he’s always so polite about it, but he never seems interested. He doesn’t make the first move. Ever.” She shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “But tonight? He came straight for you.”

You shrugged back, brushing her comment off with a small laugh. “I think you’re reading too much into it. He was just being nice.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push further. And you? You kept brushing it off, like you always did.

------------------------------

As you walked back into your shared living room after your nightly shower and routine in the bathroom, you glanced over at Ava. “Hey, by the way, what did Jake mean earlier? You know, when he said you ‘weren’t the most put-together’ during your freshman year?”

She just snorts, clearly unbothered by the memory. “Oh, that. Yeah, I was kind of a hot mess back then. Partied a lot, made some questionable choices. But, hey, isn’t that what college is for?”

You chuckled. Makes complete sense, honestly. “I was just curious. For a second, I thought maybe you two had a thing or something.”

“A thing? Well… kind of.”

Your head snapped up.

She shrugged casually, like she was recounting a minor detail. “There was this one party my freshman year. We were playing spin the bottle, and it landed on Jake. So, yeah, we kissed. Or, well, made out. But it only happened once.”

You blinked, not sure how to respond. “Oh. Uh, okay.”

“It wasn’t a big deal, I swear. It was years ago, and neither of us cared enough to make it weird. It’s not like it’s awkward or anything now. We don’t even bring it up.”

You nodded slowly, trying to process the new information. “Got it. Not jealous or anything,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, though the thought does linger for a second. It’s not like you had any claims on Jake, but… still.

“Good. Because honestly, you and Jake? Totally different vibe. I think it’s cute.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your water bottle to avoid letting the conversation stretch any further.

------------------------------

A few days later, Jake was leaned back against the couch in his apartment, a half-empty can of soda resting loosely in his hand. His friends were scattered across the room, voices bouncing off the walls as they talked about the usual—classes, campus drama, upcoming events—but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“So, what’s with you?” Jay, his closest friend, asked, nudging him with his foot from across the coffee table.

Jake blinked, realizing he’d been quiet for too long. “What?”

“You’ve been zoning out for the past five minutes. Let me guess, girl troubles?”

That got the attention of the others. “Girl troubles? Jake Sim?” Sunghoon chimed in, laughing. “Yeah, right.”

Jake shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant, but the small, almost imperceptible grin tugging at his lips gave him away. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s totally like that,” Jay teased. “C’mon, spill.”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Her name’s _____. I met her at that party the other night.”

“Wait, the one you ditched us for?”

Jake just chuckled and nodded, his gaze dropping to the can in his hand. “Yeah. Her.”

Then Jay let out a low whistle. “Damn, guess I never expected you to be the one to take the lead for once.”

“It’s not about that,” Jake said quickly. “She’s just different. She doesn’t try to stand out, but she does. I don’t know, man. She’s—” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a faint chuckle. “Forget it.”

“No, no, keep going,” Sunghoon pressed, leaning forward. “You’re actually into her, aren’t you?”

Jake didn’t respond, but the way his jaw tensed and his eyes flicked away said enough.

“Wow, well, I mean, good for you, dude. She’s gorgeous. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the guys on campus are already trying to get her attention.” Jay implied.

That comment sent an unexpected pang through Jake’s chest. He tried to dismiss it, but the thought lingered, other guys noticing you, talking to you, maybe even flirting with you.

“She doesn’t seem like the type to fall for just anyone,” Jake said, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

“True,” Sunghoon agreed. “But still. She’s new, she’s pretty, and she’s got that whole ‘mystery girl’ vibe going on. Trust me, people are going to notice her.”

Jake forced a laugh, but the unease was already settling in the back of his mind. You didn’t seem like the type to entertain random guys, but the idea of someone else getting too close to you didn’t sit right with him.

The thought stayed with him long after his friends had moved on to another topic. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. It was just concern. You were new to campus, probably still finding your footing, and he didn’t want anyone to take advantage of that.

He told himself it was harmless as the idea began to form in his mind. Just checking in on you, making sure you were okay. Not in an overbearing way, of course. You wouldn’t even know. It was just the right thing to do.

And if it gave him peace of mind? Well, that was just a bonus.

That night, Jake sat hunched in front of his glowing PC screen, the only light in his room casting long shadows across his walls. His fingers hovered over the keyboard with an eager sort of precision, scrolling through page after page. What was he looking for? You. Only you.

It wasn’t like him, spending hours like this, completely absorbed in something he couldn’t explain. But there was something about you that was different. Like an itch he couldn’t ignore, let alone resist scratching.

Finding your Instagram hadn’t taken long. A couple of clicks here, a mutual tag there, and suddenly your whole world was laid out before him. Your name. Your face. Your posts. From there, it was a rabbit hole he couldn’t help but dive into. Facebook? Found it. Tumblr? Found it. Pinterest? Of course. Each new profile unlocked a little piece of you, a puzzle he was determined to solve.

Hours passed, and Jake found himself digging deeper, further back into your life than he had any business going. He paused on a blurry group photo from high school, his eyes immediately locking onto you. Awkward braces, a side ponytail, and a shy smile that tugged at something strange in his chest. He chuckled softly to himself, his lips curving into a grin.

“Cute.”

The realization of how long he’d been doing this emerged at the edge of his mind, but he was quick to brush it off. I mean, who doesn’t do this? Everyone stalks their crush. It’s not weird. It’s normal. He was just curious. That’s all.

And yet, even as he closed out one tab and opened another, Jake couldn’t shake the nagging sense that this wasn’t enough. The photos, the posts, the snippets of your life he was piecing together, they still felt distant, impersonal. He wanted more. Needed more.

His hand hovered over the mouse for a moment before he opened Instagram again, pulling up your most recent story. You were out earlier with a friend, walking with a coffee in hand, the city bustling in the background. It was mundane, ordinary. But to him, it was fascinating.

You were almost like an unsolved case to him. Every photo, every caption, every comment was a clue, something to dissect and overanalyze. The way you angled your head in selfies, the way you always seemed to wear rings on your right hand. Did that mean something? Maybe it was just a habit, or maybe it wasn’t. He didn’t know, but the not knowing made him dig deeper. Each little detail was like a breadcrumb leading him further down a path he couldn’t stop following.

It boosted him. Every new discovery sent a thrill rushing through him, like solving the next piece of a complex puzzle. The high school photos, the forgotten Pinterest boards filled with dreamy quotes and wedding décor. He was piecing together a version of you even you didn’t know you’d left behind.

The rational part of him, however, it was there. Buried somewhere, trying to surface, to remind him that this wasn’t normal, that this wasn’t healthy. But the excitement, the adrenaline of knowing so much about you, drowned it out every time. You were fascinating. You were beautiful. And you didn’t even know it, but by leaving that party with him that one night, you were letting him into your world.

It felt intimate. Special. Like he was uncovering the real you, the one hidden behind the edited photos and casual captions. And Jake? Jake couldn’t get enough.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering to the clock. It was late. Too late to still be sitting here. But he didn’t care. You were under his skin now, in his mind, in his every thought.

And he convinced himself, once again, that this was fine. Perfectly fine. He was just looking. There's nothing wrong with looking.

Right?

He didn’t notice it yet, but he was crossing a line he didn’t realize he was already standing over.

------------------------------

It was a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon. You were at the local grocery store, a basket in hand as you roamed the aisles, debating between two different brands of pasta. The store was buzzing with life. Kids whining for candy, parents arguing over coupons, the hum of soft pop music barely audible over the chatter.

You were zoning out, staring at the shelves, when a familiar voice startled you.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here.”

You turned sharply, and there he was. Jake. Dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, he looked casual and relaxed, the epitome of “guy next door.”

“Oh. Hey, Jake. What’re you doing here?”

“Grocery shopping, same as you,” he said with a grin. “Though I’ll admit, I didn’t expect to run into you.”

You smiled politely, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, small world.” And it was then that you realized Jake wasn’t holding a basket or a grocery cart at all. You glanced down at your own, practically overflowing with items, while he stood there empty handed. Maybe he had stopped by to grab something quick.

He glanced at the shelves, his eyes scanning the items before landing back on you. “Pasta night?”

You held up the two boxes in your hands. “Debating between these two. Any recommendations?”

He stepped closer, pretending to study the boxes like it was a life or death decision. “Well, this brand’s sauce clings better,” he said, pointing to one, “but this one’s texture is nicer. Depends on what you’re going for.”

“I didn’t know you were a pasta expert.”

He grinned. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

And for some reason, that stuck with you. You had this feeling that he was being truthful, but not in a good way. Like there was more to that statement than he was letting on, something hidden beneath the surface. A part of you couldn’t ignore the unease creeping up your spine, but his smile was so convincing, that you pushed the thought aside. Maybe you were overthinking it.

You shook your head, putting one box back and dropping the other into your basket. “Good to know. Maybe next time I’ll consult you for my grocery list.”

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than felt necessary. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you ended up walking through the aisles together, Jake casually slipping into conversation as if this wasn’t entirely coincidental. He asked you about your week, made jokes about the odd products on the shelves, and even recommended a snack or two that he claimed was “life changing.”

It was easy to forget the awkwardness at first, Jake was good at that. He made people feel comfortable, like you were the only person in the room, even if it was just a crowded grocery store.

But as the conversation went on, little things started to feel… off.

Like how he seemed to know exactly what aisle you were heading to next, always a step ahead, grabbing things you hadn’t even noticed. Or how he mentioned a specific brand of matcha you liked, something you didn’t recall ever telling him.

Or when you turned to grab a few more things, and you noticed Jake picking up items—fruits, snacks, even the same brand of shampoo you had chosen—things that seemed oddly familiar to what you were already grabbing. You glanced back down at your basket to where you noticed Jake running out of room, even in his big arms, that he had casually started to place some of his items in your basket, almost absentmindedly.

At first, it was just a few, but then his arms began to overflow with more things. You couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to be running out of room. His hands were awkwardly balancing a few cans, some fruit, and the bottle of shampoo, all piled up like a small tower. It was kind of cute.

"Uh, you might want to grab a basket," you said, eyeing the growing pile in his arms. "I don’t think you’ll fit everything."

Jake looked down at his arms, then back at you with a slight laugh. “Oh, right. Thanks for the reminder.”

He glanced around awkwardly, like it hadn’t even occurred to him.

I mean that was kind of weird, right? The thought lingered, but you brushed it off as you continued your shopping.

And then there was the moment at checkout.

You were unloading your basket onto the conveyor belt when Jake casually reached for the same brand of chocolate you’d grabbed earlier, dropping it into his basket with a small smile.

“What?” he asked when he noticed your raised brow. “You have good taste.”

It was harmless. But the way he casually mirrored your actions, not just then, but from the moment you saw him in the store, you’ve noticed how it seems like he’s not just casually shopping, but actively observing you and somehow always knows what your next move is.

Maybe you’re just being paranoid. It’s getting late after all, the sun is beginning to set and here you are, with a guy you don’t really know all that well. Of course you’re going to be a little on edge. It’s just womanly instincts.

But as you walked out of the store, bags in hand, and saw him heading in the same direction as you—despite you being certain he lived on the other side of campus—that faint unease crept back in.

“Need help carrying those?” he offered, gesturing to your bags.

You shook your head quickly. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though.”

He nodded, still smiling. “Alright. See you around, then.”

And as you started walking away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that his gaze lingered just a little too long, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on their prey. It was subtle, but the intensity of his stare made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even as his smile never wavered. You tried to dismiss it, telling yourself it was probably just your imagination running wild. After all, it’s Jake. Everyone loves him.

------------------------------

"So, Jake asked about you," Ava said casually as she applied her mascara, sitting across the room.

"Wait, what?" you asked, sitting up from your bed. It was 7 a.m. in the morning, and you had just been jolted awake by your roommate’s loud music blasting from the bathroom a few minutes ago.

"Yeah, said something about how he wants to ask you out. Take you on a real nice date. Then end it off with spreading your legs in the back of his car."

You froze, your heart racing in your chest. “Wait, what.”

Your silence was then followed by laughter. "Oh my god! I’m joking!"

You let out a huge sigh of relief, but then you playfully shot her a look. "Ava, do not play with me like that." But honestly, you were kind of serious too.

She shot you a grin, clearly amused. "Oh, come on, you’re so easy to mess with. But seriously, you know you wished I wasn’t joking.”

You rolled your eyes at Ava’s teasing and went back to scrolling on your phone. “Yeah, okay,” you muttered, not giving it much thought.

“He did actually say something about asking you out, though.”

You paused, glancing up at her again. “Are you messing with me?”

She swore up and down, looking completely sincere. “No, I’m telling you the truth. He said he wanted to take you out for a nice date. That’s what he told me.”

“I still don’t buy it.”

“I swear on everything, I’m not lying!” Ava’s voice was insistent now. “So what’s the deal? You gonna go?”

You hesitated, unsure. “I don’t know…”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Ava scoffed, clearly frustrated. “Girl, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Every girl wants a night out with Jake. You’d be crazy not to go.”

You chewed on your lip, contemplating her words. It's not that you wouldn't enjoy going out with Jake, it's just that something about him still unsettled you. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there were moments where the way he looked at you, or the way he seemed to know a little too much about you, made you feel like you were under a microscope. It wasn’t overly creepy, but there was an underlying tension that you couldn’t ignore.

Still, you couldn’t deny that you liked his company. He was charming, funny, and his attention was flattering, sometimes even a little intoxicating. But you weren’t sure if it was just his charm that kept you second guessing those little moments that made you feel unsure

“It’s not like that. I mean… he’s nice, and he’s funny, and I enjoy being around him. But, I don’t know. Sometimes, I just feel kind of weird around him. Like, there’s something about him that makes me feel uneasy. It’s like… something’s off.”

Ava tilted her head, unimpressed. “You’re being paranoid. Honestly, I never feel that way around him. He’s always been chill, and I’m sure he’s just trying to make a move on you. Stop second guessing it, okay?”

You sighed, but Ava wasn’t having it. She was determined to get you to say yes.

And honestly speaking, a part of you wanted to get to know him more too. He definitely knew how to make a girl laugh, and he was great at contributing to conversations. There was an ease to the way he spoke, like he was genuinely interested in whatever you had to say. And you couldn't deny that there was a certain chemistry between you two. He was charming, effortlessly so, and that smile of his? It melted you every time.

You were sure he was a great kisser too. I mean, those plump lips of his didn’t look like they lied. They were always so close, so inviting. The thought of it made your pulse quicken a little, despite yourself.

So, why not let yourself live a little? Everyone around you was practically begging you to take the plunge. Ava was begging you to go and she knows him better then you do, so when she means he's no harm, she can't be lying. You could use a night of fun, a little excitement. It didn’t have to be anything more than that. After all, he was just a guy. It wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong by saying yes, right?

So a few days later, when you saw Jake waiting outside of your class and finally asked you on a date, you had no reason to say no.

------------------------------

So here you were. At the edge of a nice lake surrounded by a cute park. Jake beside you, rambling on about some random topic that, honestly, you weren’t even sure you were fully listening to. He had a way of talking, of keeping the conversation flowing smoothly, making it feel like you were the only two people in the world. His voice was soft, relaxed, and as he gestured with his hands, you couldn’t help but watch the way his muscles flexed under the sleeves of his shirt.

You'd almost forgotten why you were so nervous about meeting up with Jake in the first place. The whole thing felt so natural now, so effortless. His laugh was contagious, his stories engaging, and his presence so easy to enjoy. As the sun started to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over everything, you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks, the worries and uncertainties slipping away.

“So,” you said casually, glancing over at him, “what exactly are you majoring in, by the way?”

“I’m in engineering. Tech stuff.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, but you could tell by his tone that he took pride in it. “It’s all about computers, networks, systems, you know? It comes in pretty handy,” he added with a sly wink.

“Handy?”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah. I mean, you never know when a little extra knowledge can be useful. You’d be surprised at how helpful it is until you need it,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if implying something more, but before you could react, he eventually changed the subject.

You two wandered the park, your footsteps light, side by side, as you talked about everything and nothing. The air was crisp and refreshing, and the sounds of the nearby water and chirping birds only added to the peaceful vibe. The awkward tension you'd felt in previous encounters with Jake was now a distant memory.

But as the sky darkened, and the park became quieter, something shifted between the two of you. It wasn’t anything obvious, but there was this electricity in the air that hadn’t been there before. It was like everything had led to this moment.

You both stopped by the water, your shoes crunching against the gravel path as you looked out over the lake. The soft waves lapping at the shore reflected the dimming sky, and for a moment, the world around you felt suspended in time. Jake leaned a little closer, his arm brushing against yours as he turned to face you.

"I’m glad we did this," he murmured, his voice soft, almost too sincere.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the summer evening air. "Me too."

And then, without warning, Jake’s hand cupped your cheek, and he kissed you. It was gentle at first, just a soft press of lips, and it shocked you definitely, but you melted into it, letting go of any lingering hesitation. His lips were warm, his touch delicate, and for that brief moment, you forgot about everything—forgot about the nagging thoughts that had been chasing you all day.

But then, suddenly, the kiss deepened. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss turned more urgent, more demanding. His lips were now on yours with an intensity that surprised you, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against him, his body a solid wall against yours. His hand gripped your hips so tight that it sent your mind into a frenzy as he groaned loudly against your lips.

You pulled away for a split second, your heart racing. "Jake... we’re in public," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, he kissed you even harder and took this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, his hands now reaching further and further down your waist, pulling you towards him. The world around you felt blurry, as if you were floating in a bubble of his touch, and for a moment, you forgot where you were, who you were with—forgot about everything except him.

But then reality came crashing back in seconds. You broke free from the kiss, taking a step back, your breath coming fast. "Jake," you said, voice shaky, "we’re outside. There are other people around." You glanced around nervously, your eyes darting over the now dark park, thankful that no one was nearby but still aware that you were far from alone.

Jake just looked at you, his expression still soft but with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, sorry. I’ve just been really wanting to do that," he said casually, like it was no big deal.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his nonchalance, but you tried to dismiss it, even though a knot formed in your stomach. "Right," you muttered, taking a breath to calm yourself.

For a moment, the air between you both felt charged, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe things were moving faster than you were ready for. But as Jake stepped back with a small grin, his eyes still warm, you felt yourself ease back into the moment, convincing yourself it was just him being... well, Jake. Charming, spontaneous, and maybe a little bit too eager.

So, when he grabbed you by the arm with a playful grin and said, “Come on, I know this great dessert place,” practically dragging you along with him, you told yourself this was just Jake’s way of showing he cared. You told yourself there was no harm in it. Jake was just spirited, maybe a little intense, but in a charming way. That’s all it was.

The rest of the night went smoothly enough, or at least it seemed like it. You talked and laughed some more, and by the time Jake dropped you off in front of your apartment, you found yourself in a bit of a daze. The streetlights cast long shadows, but all you could focus on was the lingering feeling from earlier. The kiss—the intensity of it, the way he didn’t seem to care about where he was or who might see. You’d been caught up in the moment, but now that it was over, that uneasy knot was back in your stomach.

"Thanks for tonight," you said, your voice a little quieter than you intended as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

Jake turned to look at you, his eyes soft, almost too sincere. "Anytime. Let me know when you want to do this again."

"Yeah, I will." You hesitated for a second, unsure if you should say more, but then the words just seemed to evaporate. Instead, you opened the door, stepping out and giving him a small wave as you walked up to your apartment.

As you entered the building, your thoughts kept circling back to that kiss, to his lack of concern about where you were or who might be watching. You’d had fun, no doubt, but there was a part of you that couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

You tried to push the thoughts aside, telling yourself you were overthinking it. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just that kind of guy. But the unease in your chest only grew heavier as you walked to your room, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were starting to see him for who he really was.

------------------------------

You and Jake had started hanging out more and more after that date, and you couldn't deny it, you were falling for him more than you expected. Sure, sometimes he did stuff that made you question things, but he wasn’t perfect. So what?

Today, you were studying for some upcoming exams at the school library. The space was quiet, and even though you were focused on your work, you enjoyed having him there. Jake had brought you both coffee and snacks, and the atmosphere felt warm and cozy. You were sitting across from each other, the constant clicking of keyboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. It was a perfect setting, relaxed, comfortable, and you found his presence quite calming. It only felt natural.

“One sec, I’ll be right back. I have to use the bathroom,” you announced, getting up from your chair.

Jake didn’t say anything and just nodded, his eyes still glued to his screen, focused on whatever was on his laptop. But as soon as your back was turned and you were walking away, Jake’s attention shifted.

His eyes landed on your bag, which was slung over the back of the chair next to where you were just sitting a few moments ago. The handle of your tote peeked out from the side, and something shiny caught his eye. It was your keyring. The familiar silver glint of your room key sat half-hidden inside your bag. You must’ve forgotten to tuck it deeper, but it was unmistakable.

Jake’s gaze lingered on it for a moment longer than usual. He looked around, ensuring no one was watching, before reaching over with careful fingers. The motion was almost imperceptible, but he slid the key out of your bag, letting them rest lightly in his palm. He checked the surrounding area once again. No one was looking.

His pulse quickened just a little, the thrill of the action sinking in. You were gone, out of sight, leaving him with this small window of opportunity.

He looked at the keys. They weren’t just any keys—they were a way in.

Jake sat there for a moment, the keys tucked securely in his pocket, a sense of satisfaction bubbling in his chest. He knew it was a little risky, but it was too perfect to pass up.

He glanced around again, making sure no one had seen. This wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment decision—he’d considered this before, the idea quietly simmering in the back of his mind.

He’d thought about sneaking into your room before, just out of curiosity (or so he told himself). But he never quite figured out how he’d do it without raising suspicion. The idea had first occurred to him a while back when he submitted a 3D-printed model of a robot for his tech project. It wasn’t just a cool demonstration of precision, it was proof of how easy it would be to replicate almost anything if he had the right dimensions.

Now, with your keys in his possession, that idle thought from a while ago clicked into place. The perfect way to turn a passing fantasy into something tangible.

It wasn’t like it would be hard to replicate the keys. After all, he was an engineering major. He had the skills. The tools. The knowledge. With the advanced tech available to him, specifically his access to the 3D printers in the lab, replicating those keys would be a breeze. The thought was almost laughable. No one would be the wiser.

The more he thought about it, the more the plan excited him. He could “find” the real key after he made the spare, casually give it back to you later, and look like the hero. The savior. You’d think he was just looking out for you, a kind guy who happened to stumble across your lost key. The hero who went the extra mile to return something precious.

And you’d never know he’d taken it in the first place. Hell, you might even think it was a sweet gesture.

A small, almost smug smile crept onto his face as he imagined it. He liked the idea of being the guy who could fix everything for you, who could always be the one to make things right. In your eyes, he'd be the one who cared, who was always there for you, just the kind of guy you'd want to be with.

The plan felt so natural, so flawless. He didn’t even feel guilty. It was for you, after all. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. Just helping you out in the best way possible. It would only bring him closer to you, make you appreciate him even more.

You came back from the bathroom a few minutes later, the library air still cool and comforting as you settled back into your seat. Lost in your own thoughts, you picked up where you left off in your study notes. The soft clicking of your laptop keys and the rustling of paper were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jake. It wasn’t until you stood up to gather your things, ready to head out, that you noticed something was off.

You dug through your bag, feeling around for your keys, the ones you’d left in there earlier. But they weren’t there.

You froze for a second, your eyes scanning the table and the chair you’d been sitting in. It was only then that you realized they weren’t in your bag at all.

“What?” you muttered, frowning as you scanned the surface of the table. “Where did I put my keys? Jake, have you seen them?”

He was already standing up and grabbing his things by the time, pausing for a second and giving you a slight shrug. “No, haven’t seen them,” he said, as he put on his best “confused” face, sounding completely genuine. “You’re sure you put them in there?”

You nodded, trying not to panic. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Well, if they’re not in your bag, maybe you forgot to bring them. They’re probably somewhere in your room still. I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

There was a little panic in your voice as you started to shuffle through your things. “But I could’ve sworn I left them right here…”

“You don’t have a backup key or something?”

You sighed, realizing you hadn’t thought this through. “No. It’s fine though, Ava’s home. She can let me in. I’ll just buy a new one later.”

Jake smiled a little wider, his mind already running through possibilities, but he kept his tone light. “Alright, guess that works.”

You still seemed a little confused, but the moment passed. You dropped the subject and started talking about something else while you two were getting ready to leave. But Jake could tell—you were distracted now, just a little bit. He’d planted the seed. Maybe you’d brush it off, or maybe you wouldn’t. Either way, he was confident it would only matter if he wanted it to.

When you both walked out of the library building, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus, Jake slipped his bag over his shoulder and turned to you with an easy smile.

“So, I think I’m going to head home and get some rest,” Jake said.

You nodded, still rummaging through your bag, trying to keep your mind off the missing keys. “Yeah, same. I’ll probably head home too.”

"Sure thing. Have a good night."

“Night.”

Then you walked away, completely unaware of the keys now nestled in his pocket, Jake’s expression shifted. That easygoing smile lingered, but there was a sharpness in his eyes, a focus. He wasn’t heading home, not yet, anyway.

Instead, he made his way across campus to the engineering building. The hallways were mostly empty at this hour, the hum of the fluorescent lights echoing faintly. Jake swiped his student ID at the lab room door, stepping inside to the familiar scent of metal and machinery. The quiet whir of the 3D printers waiting in the corner greeted him, and he felt a surge of anticipation.

Pulling your keys out of his pocket, he set them down on the workstation. His fingers worked intently with great focus as he measured and scanned the key, inputting the data into the design software. The model on the screen was precise, the ridges and cuts an exact match to the original.

As the printer came to life, Jake leaned back in his chair, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. By the time the printer finished its work, the replica key was indistinguishable from the original. Jake inspected it carefully, his mind already running through how he’d “find” your keys and return them to you, playing the part of the helpful friend. You’d never suspect a thing.

Pocketing both the original and the replica, Jake left the lab, the grin still lingering on his face as he made his way home.

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The next day, Jake managed to find you after class. “Hey, look what I found at the bottom of my laptop bag,” he said, holding up your keys with a triumphant smile.

Your eyes lit up as you recognized them. “Oh my god, no way.”

“Yeah, guess you must’ve accidentally dropped them into my bag instead of yours. Good thing I noticed before it got buried under all my stuff.”

You let out a relieved sigh, taking the keys from him. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver. I was about to go buy a new one.”

Jake chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Well, glad I could spare you the hassle. So… are you free today? Thought maybe we could grab some food or something.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “Oh, sorry. Me and Ava already made plans. We’re going shopping downtown, actually.”

For a brief second, Jake’s expression faltered, feeling disappointed. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh, no worries. You two have fun.”

He hesitated for a moment, then added, “What time are you heading out? Just curious.”

“Uh, probably around noon,” you said, shrugging.

“I see. Cool. Anyway, have fun. Maybe we can hang out later this week.”

You smiled and nodded before heading off, completely unaware of the shift in Jake’s demeanor as you walked away. If you were going to be gone for hours, that left him with the perfect opportunity.

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Jake’s heart raced as he stood in front of your door. This was it. He had thought about this moment so many times in his mind, playing out every detail, and now, with your absence leaving him a window of opportunity, he was finally here. Now, he couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement mixed with a strange sense of calm. It was a risk for sure, he knew that, but for some reason, the thought of being in your space, of having access to the things that were uniquely yours, felt almost...right.

You had just left with Ava, heading to the subway station. He knew because he was watching. He had to be sure you were completely gone before he made any moves. But now, he could finally do what he had been waiting to do for so long.

Slowly, he pulled the replica key from his pocket, his fingers trembling with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. He aligned it with the lock and turned it, the soft click echoing in the silence. It was almost euphoric. The moment his ears caught the sound, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The sound of success, of having everything perfectly fall into place.

Jake breathed a sigh of relief, though he couldn’t place why. Was it the thrill of it all, the forbidden nature of what he was doing, or just the satisfaction of knowing he had outsmarted you? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his body was finally moving, his heart pounding as he pushed the door open ever so slowly, just a crack. Then the gap widened just a bit until it fully swung open, and it revealed your shared apartment, the space you inhabited. His eyes scanned the layout, taking in the unfamiliar sights, the small and intimate details that made this place unmistakably yours.

It was small but cozy, with a cluttered bookshelf lining one wall and a comfy couch facing a tv. A coffee table sat in the middle, a few magazines scattered on top, and beside it, a worn-out rug that had clearly seen better days. The kitchen area was visible in the corner, neat but not pristine, just lived in enough to feel real. He could see the faint light coming in from the windows, the sun still high, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. And then, one of the bedroom doors was slightly ajar—he couldn't help but notice it. Could that door be yours?

Just the thought of going into your room made the region below in his pants twitch. But he could get to that in a moment.

He stood frozen, his gaze sweeping across your private sanctuary. He could hardly believe it. This was your space, your life, and he had made it.

His thoughts swirled in a hazy mix of excitement, guilt, and something darker. He knew he had to move quickly. You’d be back before long. So, he manned up and finally took a step inside. His feet felt heavy, like they were sinking into the floor as he closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Jake froze again. The weight of what he’d just done settled on him in that brief moment of stillness. But then, just as quickly, the urge to explore, to be a part of your world, surged forward. He stepped further into the living room, his hand brushing along the arm of your couch, lingering as though he could feel the traces of you still there.

He looked around, breathing in the air, and a small smile tugged at his lips. This was his opportunity. This was his chance to get even closer to you, to understand you in ways you’d never suspect. He wanted to leave his mark here, in this space where you were supposed to feel safe and in control.

His eyes drifted to the small table beside the window, a few personal items scattered across it. There he saw some books you had mentioned reading in past conversations with him.

He looked even further. Soft blankets littered the couch as Jake bent down to smell them. Some didn’t smell like you, him inferring they were mostly used by Ava. But the others smelled so strong he felt like you were practically there beside him. He spent a good while just inhaling the aroma of you, reminiscing the scent, until he finally snapped out of it.

Jake’s gaze shifted toward the bedroom doors again, but this time he didn’t linger. He hastily made his way over to them. There were two doors across from each other, and Jake’s heart picked up speed as he walked toward the one on the right. He opened it slowly, his breath catching as he stepped inside. The room felt familiar, but not quite right. He scanned the walls, noting the framed photos of Ava and a few other girls, laughing and posing together, but no sign of you. The realization hit him: this wasn’t your room.

Without hesitation, he moved to the door on the left, his mind racing with anticipation. As he pushed it open, a wave of relief washed over him. This was it. This was the space that had been calling to him in the back of his mind, the space that felt like it was meant to be his, even though he hadn't been invited.

Your room.

The first thing he noticed was the soft glow from a string of fairy lights hanging across the ceiling. The room was cozy, warm, comforting, even. A faint scent of pumpkin spice lingered in the air, almost like it was designed just for you. His gaze swept across the space, taking in the details with a sharp, almost clinical eye. There was a bed pushed against the far wall, with a soft, pastel comforter neatly arranged, and a small desk cluttered with books, papers, and a laptop. He rummaged through them, but was careful enough not to make it seem like your stuff was being messed with. There were assignments, drawings you made, and a few other things, but ultimately, he started to get uninterested.

So he got up and delved further into your room, heart hammering in his chest, as he moved to your dresser, glancing at the things you had left behind—lip balm, a few stray earrings, a bottle of perfume. His fingers lingered over the objects, each one feeling like a piece of you that he could claim.

Jake could feel the weight of it—the tension, the thrill—this was more than just curiosity now. This was ownership. It was like stepping into your world and realizing, for the first time, that he could be a part of it in ways no one else could. No one else was here. No one else had access like he did.

He opened every single drawer of your dresser, inspecting every single article of clothing you owned. Including the ones he’d seen you wear frequently and ones you’ve seemingly barely touched. He noted your dark grey hoodie that you seemed to live in basically, but also noticed your more scandalous and sexy pieces, wondering why you never put those on for him in the past? One by one, he searched through your dresser from top to bottom. Then he reached the last and final drawer and as he was sliding it open, it never dawned on him what clothes it would occupy until it was fully opened.

Panties. Tons and tons of panties.

Jake froze.

He just sat there, staring.

And staring.

But as much as he enjoyed looking, he was eventually slowly reaching in the pile of stacked underwear and grabbing as many as he could.

He brought them up to his face, inhaling the foreign scents of your undergarments. These were obviously your clean pile, but Jake was so focused on what he possessed in the moment, he didn't seem to care. But then, a familiar throbbing in his jeans began to emerge at this point, however, he was still too focused on the many pieces of fabric in full display right below his very own eyes. He then began to look around more. He noticed most of them were thongs. Some cotton, some laced. Some had cute patterns on them; bows, for example. And some were more mature, with dark red or black lacy fabric.

There were bras too. He didn't ignore those.

Now, one thing about you is that you know how to cover yourself up, especially in the upcoming colder seasons. So, when Jake saw your bras tucked away in the back of the drawer and pulled one out, you could say he was shocked at the least, to see it was pretty much big enough to be at least a C cup.

This realization made his cock even more excited, now to the point where he couldn't hold himself back any longer. Jake then immediately unbuckled his jeans as fast as he could, ripping off the buttons in seconds, until he shoved his pants down, right under his ass where he could finally access his poor, frustrated dick, in desperate need of attention.

He pulled it out of his boxer briefs in haste and groaned at the sight. It was red. Angry red, and bulging out in full length already, right in front of him. He gripped it tightly and let out a hiss in pain. But it was a good pain.

His eyes trailed down from the bottom all the way to the top, noticing his veins protruding out even more than they usually do.

Sure, he's jerked off to the thought of you (or pictures of you) countless times before. But now, that he's here—in your room—with full and complete access to your bras and panties, his dick simply just can't take it.

But it will. Jake needs it to.

So, he started moving his hand up and down slowly at first, getting used to this new uncomfortable feeling, until his cock finally calmed down. Jake threw his head back, eyes shutting tight, mouth open in a silent moan. He tried imagining in his head what you would like wearing just your bra and panties. What would you wear for the first time with him? Would you put on something sexy and alluring? Or would you go more cute and innocent? All the thoughts were turning him on too much.

He looked back down at your drawer and spotted a laced baby pink thong peeking out through the bottom of the pile. With no hesitation, Jake immediately grabbed it, looping it onto his dick while he continued to jerk himself off.

The now added friction of the cloth made his cock even harder at this point, which he didn't know was even possible. But after minutes (that seemed like hours), his hand began to grow tired and cramped up, trying so had to release, yet subconsciously edging himself every time he was about to. With a groan full of exhaustion, he momentarily stopped, giving his hand a quick break. He let out a short gasp of air, panting with adrenaline.

But when he glanced down to his still very hard and throbbing cock with your cute little panties wrapped around it, he grabbed it again, this time even harsher.

"Come on, come on," he muttered to himself, frustrated, with furrowed eyebrows. He shut his eyes tight again, imagining himself pounding into your tiny little cunt. He wondered if you wouldn't be able to take it—the thought of you struggling to fit it in all the way. He liked that idea a lot. He would kiss your forehead, tell you he would go slow. And then he would ram himself into you, giving you no time to adjust.

But then he wondered if maybe you'd surprise him, and turn out to be a cock slut, riding it so well, like a beast. He groaned at the thought of it, speeding up his hand even more, gripping his cock even harder. The idea of you bouncing relentlessly, not giving his dick a break until he came inside of you, which sounded just too good to be true. Would you grab your big ass tits and squeeze them right in front of his face? Would they bounce uncontrollably as you rode him like there was no tomorrow?

"Yeah, just like that. Don't stop," he basically whispered to himself in bliss, his imagination getting the best of him. "Fuck, I'm so close baby," he whimpered.

And just like that, he was coming undone. Right then and there, unleashing his load onto your carpeted floor with seemingly, no care in the world.

He laid there, panting out of exhaustion. After he caught his breath, he smiled to himself, a dark, satisfied grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.

He could hear the faint sound of traffic outside, the world continuing without a clue about what he was doing inside these walls. His fingers traced over your cum filled panties once more, and grabbing more from your drawer, each item feeling like a new possibility—a piece of you he could add to his collection.

For a moment, he couldn't shake the feeling of victory. It was as if the world was his, and everything he'd been waiting for was finally within his grasp.

But just as the saying goes, good things never last. And just as quickly as the euphoria had flooded him, the sound of your front door squeaking open shattered the calm, and his eyes widened in fear.

#enha x reader #jake fanfic #jake sim smut #enhypen #jake sim fic #jake sim #jake fic #jake hard thoughts #jake hard hours #jake x reader #sim jake #sim jake amut #jake sim smau #yandere jake sim #stalker yandere

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greensagephase · 8 months ago

Text

What If...? (Father's Day)

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: It’s Father's Day and you celebrate Miguel, the father of your son. You surprise him with an unexpected gift! Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: pre-established relationship; reader is married to Miguel; parents of a three year old; breast fondling; oral sex, male receiving; unprotected sex (pls be safe); p in v; light spanking; soft Miguel Masterlist Link to part 1!

MINORS PLS DO NOT READ

In the kitchen, you put away some dishes you washed earlier from breakfast. You take care of other little tasks around your kitchen, making sure it’s organized and cleaned for dinner time.

In the living room, Miguel is hanging picture frames since you recently took new family photos. You’re both taking the time to do some quick chores since Gabrielito is taking a nap in his room.

Among your tasks, you put away some leftover homemade tortilla chips from this morning.

Today is Father’s Day and of course, you’re spoiling Miguel just like he spoiled you for Mother’s Day. You cooked his favorite breakfast - red chilaquiles, two fried eggs, and fried beans topped with queso fresco - a typical Mexican dish that can be served both for breakfast and dinner, hence the tortilla chips.

With a smile, you recall this morning when you surprised Miguel with his favorite breakfast in bed. You bought him flowers because you wholeheartedly believe men also deserve to receive some, at least your man does, and then cuddled with him and Gabriel for a while.

It’s now around one in the afternoon and you’ve had lunch already. Miguel subtly told you earlier in the week that he wanted to spend the whole day at home with his family and do little tasks around the house, like hanging new picture frames. That’s why you decided to order takeout for lunch from one of Miguel’s favorite places, at least.

However, just because you plan to stay home all day doesn’t mean you didn’t plan something fun and special for the evening. Your plan is to cook another one of his favorite dishes for dinner and then end the day with a movie night.

You’ve bought Miguel’s favorite snacks and drinks for the movie, and you have plans to make the living room even more cozy than it already is with blankets and pillows.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Miguel’s drill from the living room, a smile forming on your face.

Your handy husband, gotta love him.

You grab two cold drinks from the fridge, one for Miguel and one for you before heading to the living room. You find Miguel standing in front of one of the walls with a pencil behind his ear as he drills into the wall. He looks so… You have to stop yourself from letting your thoughts wander but wow, he’s so handsome.

“I got you a drink,” you say approaching him.

Miguel turns, smiling at you. “You’re always thinking about me, preciosa. Gracias [precious, thank you],” he says, accepting your offering with appreciation. He opens it and takes a few sips. “Almost done here. ¿Como se mira [how does it look?]?” he asks, pointing his chin towards the wall.

You step closer and take a better look at the pictures of the three of you, smiling.

“It looks fantastic, corazón [heart]. Look at us,” you say softly as your eyes settle on one picture in particular. Miguel is holding Gabrielito, his arm wrapped protectively around his son. The other one? Around your waist in an equally protective manner. The three of you are smiling at the camera, a happy family.

Miguel steps behind you, quickly resting his head on top of yours, his arms finding their rightful place around your waist. “My whole life,” Miguel whispers sweetly. “In one picture alone.”

Your heart swells with love and tenderness. With a sigh, you place your hands on his arms.

“Our little family,” you whisper.

“Si, nuestra familia [yes, our family],” Miguel whispers. He moves his head and pecks your cheek from the side. “El amor de mi vida y mi hijo [the love of my life and my son].” He pecks your cheek again. Again. And again, until he has you giggling like a schoolgirl, his arms tightening around you. “Ven aquí, preciosa [come here, precious],” he murmurs against your lips. “Te amo [I love you].”

“Mm, I love you more,” you murmur back, eyes closed as you bask in Miguel’s attention.

“Impossible,” Miguel murmurs, his lips moving to your neck to continue their mission. “You’re my whole universe - the very air I breathe.”

With a low moan, you move your head aside to grant him more access.

“Good girl,” Miguel says, his mouth on your neck. He peppers your neck with more kisses before he gently bites the soft flesh, eliciting another sweet moan from you. “Dios, te amo mi reyna [God, I love you my queen].”

“I love you,” you reply. “Te amo, mi corazón [I love you, my heart].”

Miguel smiles and plants a few more kisses on your neck, creating an ache between his and your thighs. He pauses his kissing for a moment to look at the photograph, looking at the three of you. His arms tighten around you, even more somehow, protectively.

He can’t help but think about something. It’s been a few weeks since Mother’s Day, since that night when you both decided to start trying for a second baby. Ever since that night, the two of you have been going at it, which is not unusual, really. Your passion for each other has always been ignited, no matter the ups and downs of a normal, healthy marriage. Even when you both thought you’d find it difficult to make time as a couple with the arrival of your firstborn, it turned out that your baby boy only strengthened that passion - that love.

So, Miguel supposes your recent love making moments are not shocking, however he can’t deny that there’s an extra special layer because you’re trying for a second baby. Either way, he knows the two of you have been going at it and he can’t help but wonder if it’s happened yet, if his seed has taken and you’re now carrying another baby in the beautiful, gorgeous, goddess-like, and breathtaking body you have. The thought makes him giddy.

He really wants to be a dad of two, wants your little family to grow.

“Soon, mi amor [my love], there will be four of us there,” he whispers with hope and longing.

You smile at the thought. “Very soon. I have no doubt,” you whisper.

That makes Miguel grin. He kisses your neck again, his tongue darting out to taste your sweet skin. Your breath hitches when you feel his tongue running down your neck, moving to your shoulder. You lean back on him, pressing your ass to his groin area and immediately feeling his semi-hard cock.

“Miggy,” you whisper.

“Mhm?” Miguel runs his tongue upwards now.

“You’re growing hard.”

“I know, preciosa. Can’t help it,” he whispers. “I’ll stop if you want.” He begins to pull back, understanding you may not be in the mood and being respectful as always of your boundaries.

“No, come here,” you say holding him by his arms, attempting to stop him from moving away from you. Once you feel him pressed against you again, you lean back as much as possible, pressing your ass more firmly on his cock.

“Mmm, you want to, hermosa [beautiful]?” he asks pushing forward.

“Yes, I want to. I want - need you,” you reply realizing you’ve grown so wet just with his neck kisses and bites.

“Say that again,” Miguel whispers.

“I need you,” you whisper, making your husband groan softly.

“I need you, too, preciosa,” he whispers back, his mouth attaching to your neck again. His hands slide up from your waist to your breasts, cupping both of them with his large hands. He brings them closer together, squeezing gently and fondling them.

You whimper softly, laying your hands over his. “They’re a bit sensitive,” you whisper.

Miguel loosens up his grip. “’m sorry, princesa [princess]. Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned. He begins to massage them even more gently, tenderly.

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry. I’m just letting you know,” you reassure him. “They’ve been sensitive for a few days.”

“I’m sorry, baby, why didn’t you tell me?” Miguel asks, resting his chin on your shoulder, massaging your sensitive breasts. “I could’ve massaged them for you,” he says genuinely as he knows you find his large and warm hands helpful for these kinds of things - and other things, of course - but especially when you need a little massage, his hands are perfect for it.

“It hasn’t been bad, I promise,” you reply.

“Okay, but I still want to help you,” your sweet husband says, still massaging your tender breasts. “We can stop - we can focus on this, preciosa. I don’t want you hurting or feeling discomfort. Plus, you’ve been feeling fatigued, too. Maybe you ought to rest a bit, mi reyna [my queen].”

“N-no,” you say, shaking your head. “Please? I want to.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“M’kay, but I’ll be extra gentle with your breasts.” Miguel gives a gentle squeeze, feeling your hardened nipples through your top and bralette. He lowers his hands and pulls your top up by the hem. You aid him by lifting your arms, knowing it’s only the beginning.

In a matter of seconds, you’re both naked in the living room, pressed against each other kissing. Miguel’s hands fondle your ass while your hands glide up and down his back, your nails digging slightly into his skin, leaving goosebumps behind. You chuckle while kissing him, getting an idea. Miguel pulls back, wondering what you’re chuckling about. He soon finds out the reason when you deliver a gentle but firm spank to his ass.

His eyebrows raise, a smirk on his lips. “Oye, oye,” he says in a feigned offended tone. “Spanking your husband’s ass?”

“What about it?” you ask nonchalantly, grinning up at him.

Miguel hums, smirking. He pulls you closer, leaving no space between you. “I love when you use that tone,” he whispers leaning down and taking your bottom lip between his teeth before he kisses you.

You return the kiss, your hands gliding to his hips. You give them a squeeze before you slide one of your hands between your bodies with a clear intention. Not even a second later, Miguel lets out a soft growl as he feels your fingers wrap around his thick cock.

Smiling, you pump his cock gently, swiping your thumb over the engorged tip. You let out a soft hum of approval when you feel pre-cum. “So hard, baby,” you whisper as your hand wraps around it more firmly.

“Mierda, preciosa [shit, precious],” Miguel groans, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours, his breath fanning over your lips as he feels your fingers’ ministrations.

“I want to please you,” you whisper.

You push Miguel’s arms off you and get down on your knees, still holding his cock in your hand.

“Fuck, preciosa,” he says, looking down at you, the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your hand doing nothing to help his now throbbing member. “You look so pretty for me.”

His words encourage you - fuel you. You lean forward and lick the tip, wiping clean the new droplet of precum, staining your tongue.

“Ah - fuck,” Miguel lets out. “Your teasing licks. You’re gonna end me, mi reyna.”

You chuckle before licking again. “You like that, baby?” You don’t need to ask that, you know Miguel does but you still love to hear him say it.

“Yes - I do - You know I do.”

“I like to hear that, corazón,” you say before you take his cock into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, coating it with your saliva.

“Mi-erdaa- fuck- fuck - preciosa,” Miguel grunts.

You take more of him, struggling to take his size even years later because he’s so big. You slide back, only leaving the tip in to look at the rest of his cock for a second. It’s so damn big sometimes you’re still surprised at the fact that you can take him both in your mouth and pussy.

You lean forward, taking more of Miguel. Your mouth gets stuffed with your husband's cock, stretching your mouth. You hollow your cheeks out, causing Miguel to groan, before you begin to bop your head, settling into a rhythm that you know he loves.

“Fu- ayy - amor [love] - Esa boquita [that little mouth]- you're killing me”

You look up at him, making Miguel moan. “You look so pretty, preciosa. Look at those pretty eyes.” He cups your face with one hand, caressing your cheek tenderly. You notice the way his stomach and legs flex, fighting back the urge to move his hips. Tapping his thigh, you let him know he may do it.

He bites his bottom lip, understanding, before he holds your head still. He always does that, not to keep you still for his own need but to ensure he doesn't hurt you, it's the last thing he ever wants to do.

He groans as he pushes forward, his tip hitting the back of your throat. He stays like that for a few seconds, eyes closed and appreciating the way your mouth feels around him before he slides out, only leaving the tip in for a second before he pushes back in. He repeats his actions for a few moments, grunting as he feels your sweet, small mouth struggle to take him in but still trying nonetheless.

“That’s enough, preciosa, or I'm gonna cum in your mouth,” he says pulling out gently. You both look at his cock, shining with your saliva and his precum.

You lick your lips and lean forward again before taking the tip in your mouth again, sucking it gently.

“Ahhh- ahh- fuckkkk!!”

You moan, hearing Miguel's voice.

“Mmm,” you murmur, closing your eyes as you suck on his tip. You swirl your tongue greedily, trying to get more reactions from him because his grunts and whimpers always turn you on. Unfortunately, Miguel cups your face with both his hands, holding your head still. You whine, opening your mouth and reluctantly releasing him. “Miggyyy.”

“Shh,” he replies. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth if you keep going with that little mouth of yours.” He helps you up to your feet, always the gentleman.

“I want to please you,” you start, pouting. “It’s Father’s Day.”

That makes Miguel’s gaze soften. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you. “You want to give me a blow job for Father’s Day?” he whispers against your cheek before kissing it.

“Mhmmm.”

“How sweet, preciosa.” He kisses your cheek again, moving to your lips to kiss them. “So sweet - so sweet, my little pretty wife. You’re the sweetest.” He kisses your other cheek, your forehead, your nose, and chin. Your entire face is getting peppered with kisses.

“Migs, I’m the one that’s supposed to spoil you today,” you murmur, making him laugh.

“Who says you’re not spoiling me? Getting to kiss you is one of the best gifts I could receive,” he says continuing to kiss you. “But if you’re thinking in terms of this,” he pauses and motions to the state you’re both in - naked, aroused, and with the need to make love. “You know what I would love more than a blow job?” He leans close to your ear.

You nod, whimpering as he squeezes your ass cheeks with both hands. “Yea- yeah - mhmm.”

“Why don’t I show you instead?” he murmurs, tugging on your earlobe gently with his teeth.

“That sounds - good to me,” you whisper, your pussy soaked and needy for your husband’s cock.

So he does.

Miguel grabs a blanket from one of the couches and spreads it on the living room floor. He wastes no time to bring you to your knees, positioning himself behind you and pushing your torso down, leaving your ass high in the air.

He smacks your ass cheek firmly, eliciting a whimper from you and leaving a sting on your skin.

“Gonna take this pussy from the back, mi amor [my love],” Miguel mumbles, his cock hard and needy, ready to be buried deep, deep inside you. He pushes your legs apart with his knee, pressing behind you and rubbing his cock against your heat. He groans loudly, feeling how wet you are. “Mierda [shit] - you’re drenched, princesita [little princess]. You’re so eager for my cock?” he asks, moving his hips to rub his length up and down your slit, making you whine with need. “So eager to get fucked from behind - to get this pretty pussy filled with my cum?

“Yes - yes - I want it, Miggy,” you reply eagerly, moving your body to get more friction. You rub yourself against his body, pressing your ass to his hips. The movement earns you another spank.

“So needy, princesita - rubbing yourself on me like that,” Miguel murmurs, squeezing your ass cheek with his large hand. He lands another spank on your ass as he rubs against you, coating his cock with your sleek. “Good girl,” he praises, loving how soaked and needy you are. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy, baby, gonna make you feel good, okay?”

You hum in response, biting your bottom lip and feeling more than ready to take your husband’s big cock as he continues to rub the tip along your slit. He makes you gasp in pleasure when he suddenly slips in, pushing the tip with no trouble thanks to how wet you are. Your legs tremble as he slips in, burying himself into your heat while groaning and praising you.

“Good girl - so fucking wet for me - so ready - you’re so ready for me,” he says, his words coming in pauses to groan as he feels your walls stretch around his cock, accommodating to his size. “Mierda, princesa - so fucking tight, squeezing my cock so good.” He spanks you again, watching the way your ass recoils from it. “Look at this pretty ass - all mine, yeah, baby?”

“Fuck - yes -ahh!” you start but moan when you feel him push all the way in, his tip reaching that sweet spot of yours. “Miguel-”

“I know princesa, I’m all the way in - buried deep inside you. You feel so good, so good for me,” he says groaning, your walls clenching around him. “Gonna fill you with my cum, princesa - we’re gonna have another baby, yes?”

“Mhmm, another baby, yes,” you coo.

“Good girl, you’re gonna look so pretty pregnant with my baby again,” he says pulling back and leaving only the tip in. “So pretty carrying my baby, princesa, so fucking beautiful.” He’s barely done talking when he slams right in, pushing his heavy cock deep inside you. He relishes on the way your legs tense, the way you moan beneath him as he begins to thrust into you, quickly finding his rhythm.

“Fu-ckkk - Mig- ye-ah - don’t stop,” you beg, whining as he thrusts into you, over and over again, stretching your walls deliciously with his fat cock.

“Don't stop, baby?” Miguel asks as he grabs your ass with both hands to support himself, thrusting into you without faltering.

“Don't - pleas-e -ahh- ahh - please- fuc- me-!” you manage to get out, moaning and whimpering, feeling your husband's fingers dig into your soft flesh just the right way. He keeps hitting that sweet spot, making you a moaning mess beneath him. You curse in pleasure as his thrusts grow heavier and stronger, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, adding stimulation.

And God, Miguel's grunts as he slides in and out of your pussy is making you hazy - he sounds so pretty, so needy for you.

“Fuck,” Miguel groans as he leans on you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he keeps thrusting. He pulls your upper body up so your back is pressed to his chest before he presses kisses and little bites to your shoulder. He then slowly moves his hand down, reaching between your thighs to play with your clit, making you arch against him. He flicks your clit and rubs his thumb over it, making it his mission to make you orgasm before he does.

Thrust after thrust, your sweet moans and whimpers reach Miguel's ears, motivating him. He knows you're close when your walls start squeezing his cock, trying to milk him dry before he's even climaxed.

“Cum for me, preciosa,” he grunts out as his hips snap into your ass over and over again until he has you shaking beneath him and screaming his name.

Panting and whimpering from your climax, Miguel pulls out of you and quickly, but gently, turns you on your back. You whine as soon as he slips out, feeling empty, but Miguel takes care of it. He spreads your legs and immediately settles between them, slipping back into you, needing you.

You both moan as soon as he bottoms out and you waste no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, knowing, even in your hazy state, why he switched positions.

“Fuc- ‘m gonna - gonna - mierda - gonna cum inside you, preciosa,” he says in between groans as he thrusts into you fast and hard, chasing his own climax to fill you with hot seed.

His thrusts become sloppier and sloppier until he eventually goes still, moaning. A second later, you feel his cock twitch a few times before he fills you with his hot, thick cum, painting your walls white. You moan, your legs tightening around him as you get filled deliciously.

Watching your blissful face, Miguel lowers himself on top of you, wrapping his arms around protectively. You both pant, riding out your highs together. You kiss his head gently, whimpering as he thrusts a few more times, letting your hungry pussy milk him until he’s spent and you’re full of him. He stays buried inside you as you both recover from your highs, both of you wanting to let his seed take since you’re trying for a second baby.

A few minutes later, your sweet husband takes care of you during after care. When you feel like you can walk again, you both shower quickly to get properly cleaned up before Gabriel wakes up from his nap.

Once he does, the three of you chill until it’s time to make dinner. You keep Miguel out of the kitchen even though he keeps popping up with your son, offering to help but you stand your ground and keep him out in order to really surprise him.

You succeed, despite his attempts to help, and your sweet husband, not surprisingly, thanks you with lots of kisses and words of love, which you one hundred percent reciprocate.

Before you know it, it’s movie time. You give Miguel’s last surprise of the day by revealing your plans for the evening, including the basket full of Miguel’s favorite snacks and drinks. You also give him a proper gift, something you saw him eyeing a few weeks ago at the store but didn’t buy because he said he had an old one - a set of tools. You’re happy with your purchase when you see the way Miguel’s eyes lit up with excitement while he opens it. You have no doubt he’s already thinking about all the ways he’s going to use it before he’s even done opening it.

Once that’s done, you get Miguel on the couch and pamper him by throwing a blanket over him and Gabriel, who insists on cuddling with his “daddy.” You place the basket with snacks near him and finally start the movie.

The three of you are having a great time, or at least you think so, Gabrielito doesn’t seem too interested in the movie but more on playing with his dad’s hands before he asks to play with his toys on the ground.

Halfway through the movie, you begin to feel sick all of a sudden. You try to push past it, thinking maybe you’ve eaten too many snacks since Miguel has been sharing everything with you. It grows worse by the minute, nausea hitting you suddenly. That’s when you decide it’s better to head to the bathroom, just in case.

“I'll be right back,” you tell Miguel standing up and hurrying, looking off.

“Preciosa, what's wrong? Do you feel sick?” Miguel asks, quickly checking in on Gabrielito and making sure he's safe before following after you.

He reaches the bathroom in seconds where he finds you already vomiting, his concern going through the roof. He immediately reaches you, helping you as much as he can. He rubs your back gently, sticking by you all the way until you wash your mouth and face, trying to catch your breath.

You sigh softly as he helps dry your face, gentle as always.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Do you feel better? Is the nausea gone?” he asks, brows knitted with concern.

You nod, swallowing saliva and wincing a bit. “Yeah, much better now. I just started feeling sick out of nowhere.”

Miguel’s head tilts to the side, your words sinking in.

You stare at each other for a few seconds before you connect the dots. Miguel comes to the same conclusion because he suddenly smiles warmly and happily at you before he places a hand on your tummy.

“Mi reyna [my queen],” he coos.

You smile at him, knowing.

“No wonder,” you say as Miguel pulls you into an embrace. “Sore breasts, nausea, and I’ve been feeling a bit tired the last few days.”

Miguel kisses your forehead. “We’re expecting, mi preciosa [my precious],” he whispers. “We’re having a second baby.”

Hearing his words makes it suddenly feel real and you can’t help but let out a happy noise of content, throwing your arms around him. “I’m pregnant!” you say hugging your husband, who hugs you tight to him.

“You’re pregnant, mi amor [my love]. You're pregnant - I can't believe it. I mean, I do, we've been working on it,” Miguel says with a playful smile, making you laugh. “But it happened so fast. I'm so happy right now!” Miguel picks you up, hugging you. “I want to go outside and yell it to the whole world that we're having a second baby. Dios [God],” Miguel says, kissing your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats in between kisses. “Te amo [I love you].”

“I love you,” you whisper, caressing the curls at the back of his head. “I love you so much.”

“Yo a ti más, mi preciosa [I love you more, my precious],” Miguel whispers pulling back to kiss your lips, lovingly and tenderly. He breaks the kiss a few seconds later and holds you in his arms, the two of you standing in the bathroom. “Gracias, hermosa, gracias [thank you, beautiful, thank you]. You've given me the best gift for Father's Day.”

You chuckle softly, hugging him. “It was an unexpected gift.”

“Perfect way to end the day, hermosa.” Miguel smiles and kisses your forehead again. “God, I'm already thinking of all the things I'm gonna hang up in the new nursery using my new tool set.”

You laugh and pull back. “One step at a time, corazón. It's still early, but if all goes well, in a few months you'll be doing all of that.”

“Happily,” he replies. “You know I'll be there every step. I'll rub your feet and carry you to the bed. I'll do your nails, I'll do anything and everything,” Miguel promises, peppering your face with kisses, caressing your back.

You smile, knowing they're not empty promises.

You spend a few more moments in the bathroom before you return to the living room where you cuddle with your son, happy and excited that in a few months, your family will gain one new member.

A/N: Meant to post this earlier and then life happened, but it's still Father's Day for me so, happy Father's Day to my husband Miguel!! Thank you for reading!!

-Alondra ❤️

757 notes · View notes

kicxvu · 8 months ago

Text

NOT ALLOWED ! izumi miyamura x reader

summary : bumping into the boyfriend of a really really jealous girlfriend would make your life hell

warnings : bullying, emotional distress, loneliness, confrontation, negative self-perception, crying/tears, conflict, physical anger.

word count : 3.4k

a/n : first fanfic of my bby ! luv him, and sorry it’s quite hate on Hori… if you don’t like it leave kindly pls !!

-> pt1 -> pt2 -> pt3

The final minutes of lunch break ticked away as you made your way back to the classroom. Your stomach felt hollow, not just from lack of food, but from the emotional toll of the day. The bento box in your bag was now empty, its contents disposed of in a moment of quiet desperation.

As you approached the classroom door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable discomfort of returning to a room full of people who either ignored or misunderstood you. But nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you as you stepped inside.

There, perched on your desk as if it were a casual meeting spot, sat Hori and two of her friends. Their laughter rang out, echoing in your ears like a taunt. Your eyes widened as you noticed their careless postures, their bodies sprawled across your carefully organized notebooks and textbooks.

For a moment, rage flared within you, hot and bright. Your father's voice echoed in your mind, reminding you of the self-defense moves he'd taught you "just in case." Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, fingernails digging into your palms.

But you caught yourself, forcing a slow, deep breath. 'No,' you thought. 'That's not who I am. That's not who I want to be.'

With deliberate calm, you approached your desk. The girls' chatter died down as they noticed your approach, but they made no move to vacate your space.

"Excuse me," you said, your voice quiet but firm. "I need to get to my desk."

Hori looked at you, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. "Oh, it's you," she said, her tone dismissive. "We're kind of in the middle of something here."

You felt your jaw clench, but you maintained your composure. "Please," you said, "my things are there. I need to prepare for class."

Reluctantly, the girls slid off your desk, moving aside with exaggerated sighs. You approached, your eyes taking in the disarray of your usually neat workspace. Pencils rolled to the floor as you set your bag down, and you noticed with a sinking heart that the corner of your math notebook was bent, the pages crumpled.

With quick, efficient movements, you began to straighten your belongings. Your hands trembled slightly as you smoothed out the creased pages, a lump forming in your throat.

As you worked, you were unaware of the pair of eyes watching you intently from across the room.

Miyamura sat at his desk, his gaze fixed on your every movement. He noted the tension in your shoulders, the careful control in your actions that spoke of suppressed emotion.

'She's upset,' he thought, watching as you meticulously reorganized your desk. 'But she's trying so hard not to show it.'

He observed the way you gently caressed the bent corner of your notebook, as if apologizing to it. The care you took with your possessions struck a chord with him, reminding him of how he treasured the few things that were truly his own.

Your movements became more agitated as you searched through your bag, eventually pulling out the now empty bento box. Miyamura's brow furrowed as he watched you tuck it away with sharp, angry motions.

'She didn't eat,' he realized with a pang of concern. He remembered seeing you sitting alone during lunch, but he'd assumed… what? That you preferred solitude? That you were okay?

As the final bell rang and other students began filing back to their seats, Miyamura found his gaze still drawn to you. He watched as you took a deep, steadying breath, squaring your shoulders as if preparing for battle.

In that moment, Miyamura felt a strong urge to reach out, to say something, anything that might ease the obvious pain you were trying so hard to hide. But before he could act on the impulse, the teacher entered, calling the class to order.

As you sat down, your eyes briefly met Miyamura's. Then you looked away, your face resuming its carefully neutral expression.

Miyamura turned to face the front of the class, but his mind remained on you. He couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just happened, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

As the lesson began, the classroom settled into its usual rhythm. But for Miyamura, and unknown to him, for you as well, something had shifted. The air seemed charged with unspoken words and unrealized possibilities.

The final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of classes. You gathered your belongings slowly, watching as your classmates rushed out, eager to start their after-school activities or head home. You took your time, preferring to leave once the hallways had cleared a bit.

As you made your way through the now-quiet corridors, your mind wandered, replaying the events of the day. The confrontation with Hori, the loneliness of lunch, the frustration of finding your desk occupied - it all swirled in your thoughts, leaving you feeling drained and hollow.

You were so lost in your musings that you almost missed the voices coming from a classroom you were passing. The door was slightly ajar, and as you approached, snippets of conversation drifted out.

"Did you see that weird girl today? The one who bumped into Miyamura?"

Your steps faltered as you recognized your own description. Against your better judgment, you paused, listening.

"Oh yeah, what a freak. Who does she think she is?"

"I know, right? Always so quiet and creepy. No wonder she doesn't have any friends."

"Bet she did it on purpose just to touch Miyamura. As if he'd ever look twice at someone like her!"

The words hit you like physical blows, each one cutting deeper than the last. You stood there, frozen, as tears welled up in your eyes and began to silently roll down your cheeks. Your expression remained oddly blank, shock overriding your ability to react outwardly to the pain you felt inside.

You were about to hear more when suddenly, everything went muffled. Warm hands gently covered your ears, blocking out the cruel words. Startled, you gasped and jumped slightly, turning around quickly to face whoever had approached you so silently.

Your eyes widened as you found yourself face to face with Izumi Miyamura. He stood there, hands still raised from where they had been covering your ears, a look of surprise and concern etched across his features. His eyes locked onto yours, and then widened as he noticed the tears streaking your cheeks.

"I… I'm sorry," he said softly, lowering his hands. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just… I didn't want you to hear that."

You stared at him, unable to form words. Your mind raced, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. Why was he here? Why did he care?

Miyamura shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly unsure of what to do next. He glanced at the classroom door, then back at you, his expression a mix of anger and sympathy.

"Those girls… they don't know what they're talking about," he said, his voice low but firm. "You shouldn't listen to people like that."

You blinked, more tears escaping as you did. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a small, choked sob escaped your lips.

Miyamura's face softened. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, offering it to you hesitantly. "Here," he said. "Um… do you want to go somewhere and talk? Or… or I could walk you home if you'd prefer?"

You stood there, frozen in indecision, the handkerchief clutched in your trembling hand. Miyamura waited patiently, his presence a stark contrast to the loneliness you'd felt all day.

In that moment, standing in the quiet hallway with Miyamura, you felt something shift. It was small, barely perceptible, but it was there - a tiny spark of hope in the darkness that had surrounded you for so long.

You looked at the handkerchief in your hand, then back at Miyamura. His kind gesture had caught you off guard, leaving you feeling both grateful and uncomfortable. You took a shaky breath, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You dabbed at your eyes with the handkerchief, the soft fabric absorbing your tears. "But… where's Hori? Shouldn't you be with her?"

Miyamura's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and something else - was it sadness? - crossing his features. "Hori had a student council meeting," he explained. "I was just heading home when I…" He trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards the classroom where the girls were still talking.

You nodded, understanding. A moment of silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and uncertainties.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to speak again. "That's very kind of you, Miyamura-kun, but I… I should go home." You held out the handkerchief, intending to return it.

Miyamura's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? I really don't mind walking with you. After what those girls said…"

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. "No, it's okay. Really. I wouldn't want you to be seen with someone like me. And if Hori saw us…" You let the implication hang in the air, remembering the morning's confrontation all too vividly.

Miyamura fell silent, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you want to look away. But there was something in his gaze that held you there - a deep understanding that you couldn't quite fathom.

In his mind, Miyamura was transported back to his own past. Your words echoed his own thoughts from not so long ago: "Don't be seen with someone like me." "You shouldn't hang out with me." He remembered the fear of dragging others down, of being a burden. The pain of isolation and the belief that he wasn't worthy of friendship or kindness.

As he looked at you, Miyamura saw a reflection of his former self - the quiet, withdrawn person he used to be, always trying to fade into the background. He felt a strong urge to reach out, to tell you that you were wrong, that you were worth so much more than you believed. But the words stuck in his throat, held back by the memory of how hard it had been for him to accept such truths about himself.

Instead, he took a deep breath, his gaze softening. "I understand," he said quietly, the weight of unspoken experiences heavy in his voice. "But… are you sure you don't want company on your way home? Just… just as far as you're comfortable with?"

He didn't reach out, didn't push, but something in his stance conveyed an openness, an offer of companionship without pressure or judgment.

You stood there, caught off guard by the unexpected kindness in Miyamura's eyes. Part of you wanted to retreat, to stick to the familiar safety of solitude. But another part, a part that had been quiet for so long, whispered that maybe this was a chance worth taking.

As you looked at Miyamura, you found yourself at a crossroads. Whatever choice you made next would change things, for better or worse. The question was, were you brave enough to find out which?

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Okay," you said softly, your voice barely audible. "Maybe just… just to the school gate?"

A small smile touched Miyamura's lips, a mix of relief and something warmer. "Sure," he nodded. "To the school gate."

As you both were about to take a step, a loud voice suddenly echoed through the corridor.

"Miyamura!"

You froze, recognizing Hori's voice immediately. Your heart rate spiked, panic setting in as you heard quick footsteps approaching from behind.

Miyamura tensed beside you, his eyes widening slightly as he glanced over his shoulder. He turned back to you, conflict clear in his expression.

"I…" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"It's okay," you whispered, taking a small step back. "You should go."

Miyamura opened his mouth as if to protest, but Hori's voice called out again, closer this time.

"Miyamura, there you are! Who were you talking to?"

You could hear the curiosity and slight edge in her tone. Without waiting for Miyamura's response, you turned and began to walk away, your steps measured and deliberate despite the urge to run.

"Oh, no one," you heard Miyamura say behind you, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite identify. "Just thought I saw someone I knew, but I was mistaken."

You felt a pang in your chest at his words. 'No one.' That's what you were, weren't you? No one of consequence, no one worth mentioning. Even though you knew Miyamura was trying to protect you, the words still stung.

As you rounded the corner, you heard Hori's skeptical reply fading behind you. "Really? I could've sworn I saw you talking to someone."

You didn't stay to hear Miyamura's response. Instead, you continued walking, your pace quickening slightly as you made your way down the stairs and out of the school building.

The cool afternoon air hit your face as you stepped outside, a stark contrast to the warmth that had briefly blossomed inside you during your conversation with Miyamura. You clutched your bag tighter, realizing you still held his handkerchief in your hand.

As you approached the school gate, you paused, looking down at the small piece of fabric. It was a tangible reminder of the brief moment of kindness in an otherwise difficult day. Part of you wanted to run back and return it, to see if that spark of connection could be rekindled. But the memory of Hori's voice, the fear of another confrontation, held you back.

With a deep sigh, you tucked the handkerchief into your pocket and pushed yourself through the gate, starting your solitary walk home. The weight of the day's events pressed down on you, but somewhere, buried deep beneath the hurt and loneliness, was a tiny spark. A spark of something that felt dangerously like hope.

As you walked away from the school, you couldn't help but wonder what might have been if Hori hadn't appeared. Would you and Miyamura have talked more? Would you have found a friend in him? Or was it all just a fleeting moment of kindness, never meant to last?

These thoughts swirled in your mind as you made your way home, the school and Miyamura fading into the distance behind you.

The walk to Hori's house was filled with her cheerful chatter, but Miyamura found his mind wandering. He nodded and hummed in response at appropriate intervals, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the girl he'd encountered in the hallway - her tear-stained face, her quiet resignation, the way she'd walked away without looking back.

As they entered the Hori household, the familiar routine began. They called out their arrival, slipped off their shoes, and made their way to Hori's room. The house was quiet; Hori's younger brother was still at his after-school activities, and her parents were at work.

"Make yourself comfortable," Hori said, gesturing to her bed as she set her bag down. "I'll go grab us some snacks."

Miyamura nodded, settling onto the edge of the bed. He looked around the room, taking in the familiar posters, the neatly arranged desk, the photos of Hori with her friends. Everything was as it always was, and yet…

Hori returned with a plate of cookies and two glasses of iced tea. "Here we go," she said brightly, setting them down on the small table. "So, what should we do? Study? Watch a movie?"

Miyamura shrugged, forcing a small smile. "Whatever you'd like," he replied.

Hori tilted her head, studying him. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we left school."

For a moment, Miyamura considered telling her about the girl, about the cruel words he'd overheard, about the way it had stirred up memories of his own past. But something held him back. Instead, he shook his head. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day."

Hori nodded sympathetically. "I know what you mean. That student council meeting dragged on forever." She launched into a detailed account of the meeting, peppered with complaints about certain members and jokes about others.

As she spoke, Miyamura found himself watching her, really looking at her. He took in her animated expressions, the way her hands moved as she talked, the passion in her voice as she described her ideas for upcoming school events. She was beautiful, vibrant, full of life. Everything he'd always admired about her.

And yet, for the first time, he felt a disconnect. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, 'Would she understand? If I told her about the girl, about my past, would she really get it?'

The thought startled him. Of course, Hori knew about his past, about the bullying and the loneliness. But did she truly understand? The memory of her angry outburst that morning, the way she'd pushed the girl, flashed through his mind.

"Miyamura? Are you listening?" Hori's voice cut through his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing he'd completely lost track of what she was saying. "Sorry," he mumbled. "What were you saying?"

Hori sighed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I was asking if you wanted to help with the cultural festival planning. The committee could use some extra hands."

"Oh," Miyamura said, trying to refocus. "Sure, I guess. If you think I'd be helpful."

Hori beamed at him, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. "Great! You're the best, Miyamura."

As she pulled away, Miyamura felt a twinge in his chest. It wasn't the usual flutter of happiness he associated with Hori's affection. Instead, it felt almost… hollow.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of homework, idle chat, and shared snacks. But through it all, Miyamura couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted. His responses felt mechanical, his smiles a bit forced. And all the while, his mind kept drifting back to the quiet girl in the hallway, wondering if she'd made it home okay, if she was as alone as she seemed.

As the sun began to set, Miyamura gathered his things to leave. Hori walked him to the door, wrapping him in a tight hug before he left.

"See you tomorrow," she said, smiling up at him.

"Yeah," he replied, managing a small smile in return. "See you tomorrow."

As he walked home in the fading light, Miyamura found himself grappling with unfamiliar emotions. The warmth and comfort he usually felt after spending time with Hori was muted, overshadowed by a growing sense of unease. For the first time since they'd started dating, he wondered if there was a part of himself - a part of his past - that Hori could never truly understand.

And with that thought came another, more troubling one: was the love he thought he felt for Hori as deep and unconditional as he'd believed? Or was it possible that, like the fading sunlight, it too was beginning to dim?

now you suck

taglist :

@ilovecandys2010 @zhvakinnn

#໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა‎ coraa just finished !#horimiya x reader #horimiya fanfic #horimiya #izumi miyamura fanfic #izumi miyamura x reader #miyamura x reader #miyamura izumi #izumi miyamura #hori san to miyamura kun

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potatoplace · 4 months ago

Text

betty

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

the 1 (part 1) | So Long, London (part 3)

mini-series masterlist | ACOTAR x reader masterlist

Story Summary: In the aftermath of your fall, your sisters stay by your side, comforting you as best they can. The Shadowsinger is lurking, hoping for a chance to apologize. Will you tell him to go fuck himself or take him as your mate once more?

Warnings: suicide mention, self harm, difficult birth, chronic pain (idk if I should tag that?), FUCK AZRIEL

Words: ~3.5k

Author's Note: So. This was supposed to be the HAPPY ending. And it kind of is. So. Yeah. I just couldn't think of a way to make it actually happy except in the way that I did. Because tbh Azriel fucked up TOO. HARD. There's honestly no way to fully come back from what he did... grrrrr. I hope you guys like it anyways, sorry that I can't deliver on some actual fluff to heal your hearts 💔 also the first bit before Feyre finds out about Reader is the same as in 'Gone'. And the final alternate ending will be out tomorrow!

18+ only pls

💙🤍💙🤍💙

Azriel quickly made his way back to Elain, doing his best to put the interaction he had just had with you behind him.

His mate.

Elain’s sister… That’s the only way he had ever thought of you.

As a human you had been… Less than average. Hard to look at.

At least in comparison to Elain.

Elain was a breath of fresh air, so lovely and innocent and so entirely unlike him.

And turned fae, she was even more breathtaking.

He had waited for her to realize how truly damaged and scarred he was, and not just on the outside. How entirely unworthy of her he was.

But she hadn’t. She had seen him, loved him, even with how broken he was on the inside.

And he had meant his words to Nesta, when he had said no one would ever compare to Elain, even his mate.

And he was right. You didn’t compare to her.

But as he reached her side and wrapped his arm around his lovely Elain, he couldn’t help but… wonder.

Had he just made a mistake in rejecting the bond so easily?

His free hand came to rub at his chest, which felt like it was being scraped with a knife, a dull, throbbing pain.

“Are you alright?” Elain’s sweet voice asked, and he tilted his head to look down at her.

“Of course, sweetheart. Join me for a dance?” He asked softly, leading her by the hand to the dance floor after she nodded, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.

The ring in his pocket, so dainty and light, felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

He had planned to propose to Elain tonight, present her with the beautiful ring that he had picked out just for her. But now, after your confession and the pain from a severed bond in his chest, it just didn’t feel like the time.

Only a minute into their dance, Feyre screamed in agony, all heads whipping to look at their High Lady.

“Feyre? What’s wrong?” Rhys asked, already holding Feyre in his arms.

She broke away from him a moment later, sprinting further into the House without any warning.

Rhys followed immediately after, running after his mate, and the rest of the inner circle followed quickly.

They found Feyre peering over a balcony, sobbing at whatever she saw before summoning her wings. In the next moment, Feyre was jumping over the edge, diving down towards the rocks below.

Just a few seconds later, she returned, a body clutched tightly to her chest-

You. His mate.

Feyre set you gently on the ground, her hands already glowing with healing powers. “Someone go get Madja. Now.”

Cassian took to the air as soon as she gave her command, flying in the direction of the healer’s home as the rest of them stood, watching Feyre work to heal your broken, battered body with mouths wide in disbelief.

Your other two sisters fell to the ground around you, careful not to touch you lest they cause any more damage.

“What… What happened?” Elain asked tearily. His soft, sweet Elain, tears already streaming down her face, sorrow matched by Nesta.

But Feyre… Feyre was sobbing as she worked to heal you, mending the vital organs that had been damaged in the fall.

Because you had fallen. Somehow, you had fallen over the edge of the balcony that would reach above your waist.

You were so small, so fragile.

The torn bond in his chest felt like a gaping wound, Truthteller twisting inside the muscle over and over and over as he looked at your dying body, the reality of the situation hitting him all at once.

You are his mate! He had rejected his mate!

Cassian returned with Madja in record time, who immediately set to healing the bones that were shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Everyone besides the sisters should leave now, I need to focus,” Madja said sharply, leveling a glare at Azriel himself.

He had been softly sobbing, tears cascading down his face without him even realizing.

Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Amren all turned their eyes to Azriel, confused at the level of grief he was displaying, nearly level with your sisters.

Quickly, Azriel turned and left the balcony, making his way to another abandoned one, taking to the skies a moment later. He hoped the cold air would clear his thoughts, rid him of this feeling of regret he was holding now, after seeing you nearly dead.

But still, his heart ached with the need to see you, the need for the bond to be whole and healed again, to give it a chance.

Because now, he could see that he had made a mistake. Now that you had nearly left him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t thought would ever happen.

Elain… Elain would be sad, of course. And he would miss her truly… It was a shame you were sisters, or he may have been able to figure out a world in which he could have the both of you to love him.

Most likely, Elain wouldn’t want a relationship with her sister’s mate, either. It would be… Cruel of them to continue on, with you still around them.

He didn’t know how he hadn’t realized that the moment you had confessed.

But there was no changing that. There was only the path forward, and that was for him to find some way to repair the bond between you, and do whatever he needed to win his mate to his side

💙🤍💙🤍💙

The first time you woke, it was to blinding pain in every inch, every cell of your body.

Without opening your eyes, your body wrenched itself to the side to wretch up whatever remained in your stomach, the movement sending more stabs of pain through you.

You weren’t awake for more than a minute before you succumbed to the pain, falling into blissful nothingness.

The second time you woke, you could hear muffled words, sounding like they were passing through several layers of cotton stuffed into your ears.

The voices sounded like your sisters, arguing in hushed voices.

Probably about what a failure you were, not even able to take your own life, even by jumping from-

A balcony.

Azriel.

Your mate.

The pain of your body was nothing to the renewed agony of the severed bond, ripped so suddenly after finally being recognized by your mate.

A scream left your lips without a thought, and your hands attempted to raise up to your chest, to attempt to soothe the pain ravaging you so thoroughly.

But they were stopped, held down by gentle hands, and two more cupped at your face, the kindness in them reminding you of only one person-

Twin.

Your eyes cracked open the slightest bit, the connection between you and Feyre giving you just enough to meet her pretty blue eyes with your dull brown ones.

“Y/N, you’re awake,” Feyre said softly, the words echoed into your mind so that you could actually hear her. “Try to stay still, sissy. We healed you as much as we could but you could still reinsure your muscles. Just stay still, I’ll get you more pain potions.”

Tears leaked out of your eyes. “Bond. Hurts,” you managed to whisper to her mentally, and her eyes widened.

One of her hands left your face, the other one curling around to lift your head and tilt a potion into your mouth, the liquid bitter but instantly easing the physical aches within you, tiredness sweeping over your senses and pulling you under.

But you could still feel the pain in your heart.

The third time you woke, the pain in your body was only a dull ache, but your hands shot up to rub at the ache in your chest.

No hands stopped you this time, but you heard three soft gasps as you moved, and after a moment you let your eyes flutter open, squeezing shut after seeing how bright it was.

“Oh, shoot,” Elain’s soft voice said, and you hear her soft footsteps and the swish of fabric before she returned. “It’s darker in here now, you should be more comfortable.”

You let your eyes open again, pleased to see there was only the dim glow of the fireplace and a few candles dotted about the room.

After a moment, you recognized that you were in the room that had been set aside for you in the River House, laying on the plush bed with your sisters huddled around it on chairs.

“What…” You started, but found yourself coughing, your dry, sore throat protesting the action. Feyre quickly offered you a glass of water, helping to raise your head and tilting the glass to spill the cool liquid down your throat.

Once you had had your fill, she set the glass back down on your bedside table, then helped you sit up against the headboard. She fussed with the pillows, making sure that you were only laying against the plush padding, then tugged the blanket up to cover your chest and shoulders.

Feyre was sniffling softly as she looked at you, her eyes gleaming with unshod tears, but her face was puffy and red so you knew she had been crying recently.

“What happened?” You asked quietly.

How did I survive?

“I- I felt you go unconscious, through our mental link. And I- I found you on-” Feyre’s voice was cut off by a sob.

Nesta sighed, to your left. But it wasn’t an angry sigh, like you were used to. Your head turned to look at her, seeing tears on her own face as well.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen her cry.

“She could you at the rocks below the House of Wind,” Nesta explained, her hands sneaking under the blanket and taking your left one in them, her thumbs rubbing over the back of it in a comforting manner. “You were… You were nearly gone, when we found you.”

“She and Madja saved you, but they said you might have some… Residual pain, because of the amount of damage,” Elain said softly, her own hands resting on top of the blanket over your right hand.

You blinked at the three of them, lost for words.

The pain in your chest flared again, reminding you of exactly why you were in this situation.

“I… I’m sorry for worrying you…” You whispered, guilt overtaking you as your right hand came to rub at your heart, attempting to soothe its pain, as futile as it was.

“Why are you sorry?” Nesta asked sharply, and you flinched. “I- I just meant that you have nothing to be sorry about. It’s Azriel who should be apologizing, and to you.”

Tears flooded your eyes at the mere mention of his name, and Feyre’s fingers wiped them away with a soft cloth with so much care that you began to sob.

“Oh, sissy, I’m sorry,” Feyre said, and climbed into the bed next to you, her body curling into yours like it did for so many years in that cold, run down cottage. “I’m so, so sorry,” she cooed as she rocked your body gently, joined to her back by Elain and Nesta to your left. “For what it’s worth, he realized what an… Error… He made,” Feyre said softly, but it only made you cry more.

That meant that he had hurt Elain, and that was the last thing that you wanted.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. I don’t…” Elain paused, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to be with my sister’s mate, especially not… Not with the circumstances. He won’t tell us exactly what happened, just that… He rejected the bond quickly, and is now searching for a way to heal it.”

Your sobs quieted at that information, your mind confused.

“What?”

“Azriel is… Attempting to make amends with you,” Nesta said, clearly angry with just the suggestion. “Though what he thinks he can do to fix it, I don’t know.”

Elain sighed. “Really, I’m sorry Y/N. If I had known he was your mate… I never would have accepted his advances.”

“It’s okay, ‘Lain. I… I should have told him sooner, given him… An actual choice, not sprung it on him last night.”

“Starfall was a week ago, Y/N. He’s been stalking your room since we brought you here, his shadows are practically coating the door at all times. Feyre hasn’t let them in, though,” Nesta explained.

Your brow furrowed. A week? You had been out for a week?

“You needed the time to heal as much as you could. You woke up a couple of times, but it never lasted for long, your were in too much pain,” Feyre said softly, one of her hands running though your hair.

“Can… Is he… Is he waiting now?” You asked quietly, though you weren’t sure which answer you were hoping for.

Your sisters exchanged weary glances, but Elain was the one who nodded in confirmation.

“Would I be able to speak with him?”

Nesta sighed and squeezed your hand tightly. “Are you sure? I could go roast him alive instead? Save you the trouble of taking him out?”

Despite the pain still throbbing in your heart, your lips curled up at her suggestion. “No, I’ll be… Fine, Nes. I just… Need to do this.”

“Okay, we’ll tell him that he can come in. Would you like any of us to stay?” Elain asked, her eyes soft and worried.

You shook you head. “No, I think it would be better for us to talk alone.”

“If you need us, or to have him leave, just reach out for me, okay sissy?” Feyre suggested, giving you one last squeeze before she slipped from the bed.

“I will, FeyFey,” you said, giving her a soft smile in an attempt to reassure her that you were fine.

Nesta opened the door to your bedroom, shadows instantly flooding inside as she did. You could spot Azriel’s massive frame in the doorway, his wings drooped to the ground.

You heard Nesta hiss something at him, too quietly for you to hear, but the way his wings fell further and his accepting nod came across, you were certain that she had threatened to cut off important body parts if you ended up even more hurt.

Azriel entered the bedroom, his eyes cast to the ground as he stood in the center of the room. Elain left next, avoiding looking at Azriel as she did. Feyre was the last to go, leveling Azriel with a deathly cold stare. You knew that she was the most shaken up by the experience- you and your twin had always had a strong connection, almost like you could read each other’s minds, even before Feyre obtained the magic to actually do so.

She turned in the doorway, her eyes locking with yours. You smiled slightly and nodded at her.

You would be fine.

It’s not like there’s any way Azriel can hurt you more, what with the bond already destroyed in your chest.

The door snicked shut behind her, though you could still hear their heartbeats lingering in the hallway outside, ready to step in if they heard anything concerning.

“So…” You started, once the two of you had been in silence for a few minutes.

“So… I… I wanted to apologize, Y/N. I wish I could take back my cruel words, and undo the rejection of the bond. I don’t know what I was thinking, moving so quickly,” Azriel said, his voice the saddest that you had ever heard it.

Still, you didn’t say anything.

“I am so, so sorry Y/N. I want to take away your pain, I want to do anything that I can to help you. You are my mate and I have done so much wrong by you. Please, Y/N. Please give me another chance,” he begged.

And it broke you.

Your arms came out from under the blanket without you meaning to, reaching for him-

Your mate.

Your mate who was begging for your forgiveness.

Begging for you.

The broken bond in your chest ached even as his hands met yours, grasping them tightly as he kneeled on the bed before you, tears in his eyes.

“Please, let me try everything I can to repair the bond. Let me earn your trust and love, Y/N.”

You sighed and bit your lip, considering his words, the conviction with which he said them.

“Is… Is there a way to fix the bond?” You asked tentatively, squeezing his hands gently.

“There are ways, yes. They require multiple detailed rituals under the separate phases of the moon, with a priestess’s help. I… I’ve already had a priestess practice the rituals, in case you were to say yes. Of course, we’ll only start when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly.

You could have your mate.

If you wanted.

“When can we start?”

💙🤍💙🤍💙

A month later, you and Azriel had completed the four rituals required to repair the mating bond.

The priestess had warned you that the bond would likely feel slightly hollow, not quite as strong as they normally do once accepted.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you baked a blackberry cheesecake for your mating ceremony with Azriel- it was the first dessert the two of you had shared in your very first date, while you were still on bed rest after your…

Accident.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you lifted a bite of the cheesecake to Azriel’s mouth as your family watched on, clapping and congratulating the two of you quickly before they winnowed out of the Town House, which Rhys and Feyre had gifted to the two of you.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care once the mating frenzy had subsided, laying in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, hand clutching at your heart.

Phantoms pains still rang through you every day, rattling your bones. The bond was there, yes, but it had been killed and brought back to life, reanimated in your chest and torturing you in life.

You swore to yourself that you didn’t care as you slid Truthteller across your thigh in the middle of the night while Azriel slept in the next room, needing to feel a pain that was real to distract you from how much you didn’t care that the bond wasn’t whole.

You told yourself that you didn’t care that Azriel wanted you for the bond, and likely the bond alone.

The moments that made you not care were the ones where Azriel’s attentions made the bond flare to life in you, imitating the wholeness that you could have once had.

His soft kisses on your lips and sweet nothings whispered in your ears, gentle scarred hands caressing your own scars, trying to erase every pain that he had caused you.

You swore that you didn’t care as you saw his eyes linger on Elain at family dinners, convinced yourself that you didn’t see longing and lust in his hazel eyes as he took in your elder sister, finally attempting to fulfill her own bond with Lucien.

You did the same as his eyes lingered on every pretty female you passed on your walks through Velaris, wishing that he would look at you with the same heated looks he did for them.

Even as you grew with child, you promised to yourself that you didn’t care that the bond felt like it was dying in your chest, draining you of your energy.

All you had ever wanted was to have a husband and a baby, someone who would love you forever, and a sweet child to raise, to shield from the cruelty of the world.

And of course, you told yourself that you didn’t care when he came home smelling of another female, his clothes slightly out of place and hair tousled while you were on bed rest, the lingering pain from your attempt making you unable to walk on your own.

Azriel was with you during labor, and the bond between the two of you shined the brightest then, with your hand squeezing his, nearly to the point of breaking bones, as you pushed and pushed and pushed, finally rewarded with your beautiful baby girl-

The absolute copy of her father, stunning hazel eyes, thick and curly dark hair, and tiny, fluttering wings on her back.

The labor took so much out of you, the wings having torn your body open, but finally, after hours of healing from Feyre and Madja, you were given the absolute joy of holding your firstborn.

You beamed down at her, enraptured by how sweet and precious and perfect she was, her little fingers curling around one of yours.

So small. So delicate.

You knew that you would protect her with your life, with everything you had. You would never let anyone hurt her, never let anyone compare her to those around her. She would be safe, and loved, and love herself like you had never had the chance to.

So you told yourself that you didn’t care, because she was worth it.

She was worth everything.

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria

the 1 Taglist: @blackgirlmagicforever @historygeekqueen @angelbunny222

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ikigaisvt · 1 year ago

Text

laundry room

in which your husband is really good at cleaning - and he looks hot doing so.

pairing: seungcheol x she/her!reader, husband!seungcheol x wife!reader, somewhat dom!seungcheol x somewhat sub!reader & somewhat sub!seungcheol x somewhat dom!reader words: 2.6k content: smut, fluff (minors dni) warnings: reader uses she/her, seungcheol picks up reader twice (sorry), they're so in love with each other, sex standing up, vry horny reader tbh, seungcheol is a teasing shit, swearing, fingering, begging, multiple orgasms (for reader), unprotected sex, cum eating(?), petnames (for reader : sweetheart, darling, baby, wife, pretty wife / for seungcheol : baby) note: i had this idea after seeing a tiktok of a married couple cleaning up every night,,, MINORS DNI or you'll be blocked. anyway seungcheol is so husband material and i can see him doing the most for his partner irl (i love him sm) i hope everyone likes it, pls don't forget to reblog!

You always knew you were lucky to have such an amazing husband; in fact, all your friends asked you at least once where you found him.

Seungcheol is truly a dream come true: he is a hardworking man, he always finds energy to cook for you, clean around the house every night, but most importantly, he never fails to make time to love you but also to satisfy you. Ever since you two started going to bed – to do more than sleeping – he always found a moment to fulfill your needs, with no shaming.

It's been over three hours since your husband came home, looking as good as ever and a little over an hour since you two started cleaning up around the house after dinner; your daily cleaning time started in the kitchen with Seungcheol doing the dishes while you were wiping down the counter tops. You stole glances at your husband the whole time, noticing the way his arms bulged at every one of his movements, his white shirt hugging his body tightly, his back tattoo showing through the thin material making you drool at the view. He was truly a sight to behold with his blonde hair gently grazing at his upper cheeks as a natural smile hangs on his lips. A few times, he took you by surprise as he turned around to meet your eyes, a chuckle leaving his lips almost every time, knowing you were turning into a puddle – down to your panties – at the way he looked.

Your cleaning made its way through the living room as you were in charge of fluffing the sofa cushions and dusting the coffee table while your husband was vacuuming. The stolen glances followed you all throughout the housework, as if you were still a shy student having a crush on your senior, as if you were not looking at your husband who fucks you every night. As you keep working on the cushions, fluffing them over and over again, being too flustered at the sight of your husband, you wish for time to go by faster so you can hop in the shower and burn your skin with cold water.

But since your husband is none other than the teasing shit Choi Seungcheol is, he keeps making exaggerated noises, groaning every time he has to bend down or push out a chair. He even goes as far as to wipe the sweat on his forehead with his shirt, his torso all in the open for you to feast your eyes upon. You almost snap a few times because his antics were distracting you from your task in hands but you know that sooner than later, it will be time to go to bed and you will somehow get what you want – like you always do. Because as much as Seungcheol is a teasing shit, he is first and foremost a simp for you.

“Are we ready to take care of the laundry, sweetheart?” your husband asks you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you organize a console in your living room, “Because it is hell in there.” He pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Yeah, all done here!” you say cheerfully, caressing his hands before making your way to the laundry room, “Come on, the quicker we finish this up, the quicker we can go to bed!” you tell him as you push the door open.

“Oh, you want me in bed so bad.” He teases you making your ears burn.

As soon as you enter the room, you start to unload the dryer to fold everything up as you take special care to ignore Seungcheol’s words – and the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach as your husband starts to unload the washing machine. You start to fold up clean clothes and towels, making distinct piles of everything so it is easier to put away, trying your best to ignore your husband who’s quietly working on loading the dryer behind you – his groans and huffs still present in his breath. But as nothing comes without hardships, you fail miserably at ignoring his presence – his scent almost overwhelming you, his presence enveloping you, almost feeling his hands on you. You slowly get lost in the sensation he could give you if only he was touching you right now-

“Baby?” you hear his voice whisper in your neck, giving you goosebumps all the way down to your back, desire building in your stomach, “You’re good?”

“Hm, yeah,” you say as he starts to kiss down the side of your neck, his hands rubbing at your hips, “Just had a moment.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks in his deep voice, his hair tickling your collarbones and his lips never once leaving your neck, making your panties wetter by the second.

“I- fuck, I’m okay,” you say, a moan threatening to spill out of your mouth.

“Yeah? You don’t sound okay, darling,” he admits, his hand slowly making its way towards your pink cherry shorts while his other one wraps around your waist pining you gently to his body, “Is that okay?” he asks in your ear, playing with the band of your short.

“Hm, yeah,” you mumble out, one of your hands finding anchor on his arm around your waist, the other one resting on the counter top in front of you, “please,” you beg lowly, already needing him to fuck you.

“My pretty wife, begging so good for me, hm?” he chuckles, his digits crossing your shorts and panties, lightly touching your clit, wetness pouring out of you, “You’re already dripping, sweetheart.” he groans, drawing circles over your clit, building up your orgasm – as if you are not so close already.

“Only for you,” you moan, the knot in your tummy getting tighter and tighter, almost snapping, “Please- need you-” you say, reaching out behind you for his belt but before you can do as much as graze him, he takes your hand and pin it to the counter, making you bend down slightly.

“Let’s not get too greedy, now, hm? You’ve been so good for me, it’d be a shame to ruin everything now, wouldn’t it?” he warns, two of his fingers sinking in your pussy, your walls stretching to welcome him, more cum dripping out of you.

“S-sorry, fuck, feels so good,” you say, almost drooling at the way his fingers feel, plunging in and out in a timed rhythm, his thumb never once stopping its movements on your clit, bringing you so close to the edge, “I- just wanted to- know,” you try to explain, your words coming out all slurred from pleasure.

“Wanted to know what? If I’m hard for you?” he snickers, pushing his pelvis to your body, his hard-on pressing over your lower back, “Feel me.” he whispers, angling his fingers differently, grazing at your sweet spot, your moans coming out in rhythm with the pounding he settled for, “Of course I’m hard for you, darling. You should see yourself right now,” he chokes out, lightly humping himself against you, moans building in his throat, “And knowing you got horny over me cleaning around the house? Here I was, trying to be a good husband while my horny little wife was eye fucking me the entire time.” He sneers before whispering “Of course I saw you.” in answer to your whines.

“Cheol, cheol- fuck, baby,” you mumble, your orgasm burning at your stomach and all the way down to your pussy, your legs almost giving out below you, “I’m so close, can I please cum, please, let me cum, please, please, please,” you babble, feeling like your body is on fire, your eyes stinging with tears.

“Cum for me baby, go ahead,” he says, his fingers never once stopping as he wraps his arms around your waist, supporting you completely, “You can let go, darling. Let it wash over you, I got you,” he whispers, kissing your hair, before you slump in his arms, your orgasm making your legs give out and your eyes roll out. Your pussy spams around his fingers as they never once stop, working through your orgasm making you drip with cum, ruining your shorts and dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck- baby, you came so much,” your husband says as he pulls out his hand from your shorts, making you wince out. It takes you all the strength in the world to open your eyes and look back at Seungcheol, seeing him suck on his two fingers, moaning at the way you taste.

“Cheol- this is so dirty, even for you,” you moan, fully turning around and hiding your head in his neck.

“I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart,” he chuckles as he takes a hold of your face, leaning in slowly to kiss you – it always feels like he says I love you when his lips are against yours, “Are you okay? That was a lot,” he adds, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m fine- I just feel clammy,” you pout, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not gasp when your fingers graze against his pants. Little does he knows you are doing it on purpose.

“Want to jump in the shower?” he asks, already parting from you before you grasp at his shirt mumbling something so softly he doesn’t even hear your words, “What was that, darling? Speak up for me, please?”

“No, I- want to keep going,” you whisper, not giving him any time to answer that you’re already kissing him, smoothly trying to get the upper hand before he grabs your jaw, setting out a rhythm that pleases him.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, beloved,” he says after breaking the kiss, letting go of your jaw, “You want me?” he whispers, his arms resting on the countertop behind you, caging you against him.

“Yes- please,” you say, looking up with doe eyes, “Need you- Need your cock,” you whimper, already grabbing at his shirt, pulling it up so he can get the clue.

“Fuck- Okay sweetheart, I’ll fuck you,” he says, grabbing at your waist, you lower back bumping against the counter, “Nice and slow, hm? Is that what you want?”

“Yeah- want you,” you whisper, kissing his neck, all the way up to his jaw, making him groan out. He gently taps at your upper thigh, wanting you up on the counter all for himself. Just like a meal.

He gently puts you down, your thighs immediately wrapping around his hips, feeling his cock pushing against your clothed pussy while you still try to get him to lose the shirt, “Get the shirt off,” you mumble, your words working just like you wanted – and even a little too well – as he takes a step back to take off his shirt and his pants – his briefs falling to the ground too, “Fuck- baby- didn’t know you were going to do a strip tease for me,” you chuckle, still not you used to the sight of your husband even after being with him for years.

“You’re so silly,” he says, coming back between your legs to kiss you, as you touch his shoulders, feeling his muscles move at the way he plays with your shirt, “Your turn,” he mumbles against your lips, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it behind him, “Now, this needs to go,” he says as he snaps the waistband of your short against your skin making it redden before pulling it off along with your panties, “We’re so lucky we’re in the laundry room because we are about to get so dirty,” he jokes out, the mood feeling lighter than before, love taking its deserved place between you two.

“Now who’s the silly one, hm?” you chuckle, looking at him as if he holds the world in his hands – and probably some more, your words making him giggle before he works himself up again, his hand wrapping around his cock, pre-cum oozing at the tip, “You look so hot,” you whisper, your eyes transfixed on his movement and the way his cock twitches with pleasure.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” he asks, a blush on his face at the compliment, as he teases your hole with his cock, driving you more and more insane.

“Yeah- just fuck me,” you whine, your hips bucking towards him, “Like you know how to do. Only you know how to handle me.” you tell him, teasing him before he plunges into you, your walls adjusting around him, you two moaning at the pleasure to feel each other. To drown in each other.

“Baby- you feel so good- so, so good for me,” he whimpers, his hips slightly bucking towards you.

“You can move, baby,” you tell him, tapping his upper arm lightly before finding anchor on his shoulders, your hands playing with his hair at his nape. He sets a slow rhythm, trying to reach as deep as he can, his hips flush against yours, making you moan out every time he pushes back against you. You drop your head back, closing your eyes as he kisses down your chest, up to your neck and jaw. You feel him bite, suck everywhere he can reach while you can only pull at his hair, pressure building in your lower belly, your moans getting louder and louder.

“Feels good, baby? Am I handling you like you wanted me to?” he chuckles against your throat, his truths meeting your pussy harder, quicker as he chases after his own orgasm.

“Fuck- yeah, yeah, you’re the only who knows how to fuck me,” you choke out, pleasure building all the way up in your throat, feeling yourself teetering on the brink of your orgasm, “I’m so close, please, please, let me cum baby, please, Cheol,” you cry out, tears threatening to spill.

“Shit- hold it, p-please, wanna come with my wife, please,” he begs, his hips working harder to finally let go.

“Baby, fuck- Come with me, come with me,” you choke out, pulling on his hair harder, your thighs wrapping around his frame, “Fill me up, make me yours- Cum for your wife,” you moan, breaking the last thread of sanity you both were holding on, feeling Seungcheol’s cock twitch as you clutch around him, both of your orgasms washing over you, making you shudder at the strength of it all.

You slowly come back to yourself, feeling Seungcheol leave tiny kisses over your belly, your hands stroking his hair. He slowly looks up at you, his lips harboring a lovesick smile, his eyes shining with a thousand stars.

“If you were not my wife already, I’d ask you to marry me right now,” he chuckles, massaging your hips as he pulls out, his cum almost dripping on the counter top, “That was the best orgasm of my life.” He admits, adoration coming out on his features.

“You’re too silly for my own good,” you joke, slowly sitting up straighter, trying to avoid making an even bigger mess, “We really did a mess of ourselves,” you acknowledge, a smile ever still presents on your lips.

“It’s our turn to get cleaned up now,” he says lightly, picking you up bride style as you let out a little scream at the surprise of being in the air.

Seungcheol might be silly – for saying he’d marry you because you gave him a good orgasm – and much more, but you know where he is coming from. In fact, you’d marry him a hundred times more. For he takes care of you like no one ever will, for he holds your world in his hands and for he is your soulmate. (And also, for the mind-blowing orgasms).

thank you so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed! don't forget to like, reblog, comment 🫶 (and pls send all of your good energy to seungcheol so he can get up on his feet quickly!)

#seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shots #seventeen au #seventeen fics #svt smut #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol scenarios #scoups smut #scoups x reader #scoups scenarios #sammy's works

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 2 years ago

Text

TAKE YOU DOWN A PEG ─── neil lewis ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I want you. Your bones. Your body heat. The bite marks your teeth leave. To see how bad and beautiful those eyes look beneath me." — Beau Taplin.

pairing. sub!neil lewis x reader

summary. gumshoe video’s got a rude customer who neil can’t seem to ban…

warnings. swearing, voyeurism, unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, semi-public sex, breathplay, oral sex (m), cockwarming, degradation/insults, SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 5.3k

a/n. the hardest thing about writing this was scouring letterboxd for obscure films that i think neil would foam over. pls don’t beat me to death if my film references miss the mark 😭

Neil loves his job. Seriously, seriously, he does. It's completely self-satisfying, his personal passion project that’s taken up a large amount of his life, and brings him the uttermost joy of allowing him to do what he does best: recommend films.

Gumshoe Video is like his fucking baby, and he takes care of it, immensely; he wipes down every tape every Sunday, he sweeps the floor and rearranges the furniture, he organizes the tapes almost constantly, and he does his hardest to provide stellar, passionate - if almost annoying - film advice. He wants the reviews up on this place, alright, otherwise it feels like he’s letting his baby down.

Now, if there’s one thing Neil hates about his job, just one minor, teensy weensy thing, it’s probably you. You, the rude customer who came in three months ago and has come in everyday since.

The day you and Neil Lewis met was one just like the rest. Gumshoe Video was promoting old spaghetti westerns; Neil was wearing a cowboy hat and opening deliveries from a video tape shop in Calabasas that had closed down; you were coming off work and were daydreaming, dizzily entering shops to get your mind off the irritatingly mundane job you had. Unlike Neil, you fucking hate your job.

You had entered Gumshoe, browsing lazily through the Film Noir section, when Neil sprung up like a weed behind you, speaking animatedly about how the best film noir’s had to be Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, or Double Indemnity, and if you’d ever watched them before.

As Neil blabbered on, your left eyebrow became increasingly raised. Finally having enough of him, you spoke. “So, are you one of those guys that talk all over the girl and ask them if they’ve ever seen Citizen Kane, or if I can even name five Ingmar Bergman movies for you?”

Neil spluttered, flustered with being confronted about his obsessive cinephile talking habit of carrying the conversation away like a track runner in a relay race going off with the baton in the wrong direction. “What? I was just —“

“— name dropping film noir’s, ‘cause I’m some ditzy, uncultured bimbo bitch who mistakenly walked in, right?” You said, rolling your eyes. Later, in retrospect, you’ll wonder if you were too rude; then, you’ll remember you don’t give a fuck, you were having a bad day, and Neil Lewis had one hell of an annoying face.

Neil’s face grew offended, an irritated furrowed brow wiggling onto his features. “If you don’t want to watch what I recommend, you don’t have to!” he exclaimed, arms up placatingly in the air.

“Uh huh, okay, and you don’t have to shove your pretentious cinephile knowledge up my ass.”

He just stared at you, boring his bright blue eyes into your own, face contorted so exasperatedly you might as well have climbed up to the stars, plucked the moon from the sky, and used it as a pillow.

My god, Neil thought. Are you just a rude customer? Or did you get off on berating small businesses like a sadistic freak?

After a moment of you two staring each other down in the fluorescent artificial light of Gumshoe, both looking terribly affronted, you left.

Neil would then rant about this “insane customer” for at least twelve hours straight to anyone who’d liste. The next day, the distasteful experience was extremely close to thereby fully exiting his mind, but didn’t, because you, yes, you, walked in again.

You shot straight daggers with your eyes at Neil, but your expression became soft, demure, and gentle when you saw Jonathan manning the register instead. You trailed through the aisles unperturbed, Jonathan too busy sporting a hangover from working the late shift at that obscure speakeasy copycat bar (in which, as often as possible, he would sneak a shot to stay awake) to recommend films.

In any case, that was Neil’s job, and Jonathan leaned over to whisper in his ear: “Neil, man, do me a favor and please distract that customer -- fuck, this headache’s killing me…”

Neil protested, shaking his head rapidly. “That’s her.”

“Her who?”

“Her! The - customer who -- who yelled at me!”

Jonathan blinked blearily, clearly still too incapacitated to think about the matter much. “She yelled at you… and she’s back. Here. And why exactly is that…?”

“To yell at me s’more, probably!” Neil whisper-shouted incredulously.

Suddenly, you broke Neil and Jonathan out of their not-so-quiet argument by slamming down Gumshoe Video’s copies of Casablanca, Sunset Boulevard, and Double Indemnity. The irony did not miss Neil - honestly, it was a little on the nose, even for him.

“Thought I’d see what all the rage was.” you explained “sweetly”, gesturing to Neil as you spoke, indignation seeping through your every word. Your grudge was, well, mostly unexplained, ‘cept for the fact you yourself were an avid cinephile, had watched those three movies more than you could count, and did not take Neil’s “have you watched these before” kindly.

Thus started you and Neil’s long-winded rivalry slash animosity slash terribly caustic back-and-forth correspondence.

You keep coming to Gumshoe Video, because, despite your anger towards Neil, you fucking adore the place. The films are downright amazing, the atmosphere is like fucking heaven with the walls lined full of video tapes, decorated in classic film props, campy lifesize cardboard cutouts making you jump at every turn, and Gumshoe Video’s concept is insanely different (and lightyears better) than the corporate monolith that is Media Giant.

He keeps coming to Gumshoe Video because, again, Neil loves his job, and treats Gumshoe like he carried it for nine months and has been lovingly raising it for the five years it's been open.

From that first incident, you and Neil’s relationship twisted a little into something like this: you come in, insult him on whatever costume he’s wearing, return the tapes you rented the other night, argue with him for exactly an hour and a half on the couch, insult him for another ten as you browse the store, ignore his film recommendations, and rent three more movies.

He waits for you to enter, wears the ugliest costume he owns to visually assault you, gladly takes the tapes back, argues with you for 1 and ½ hours, fires back retorts as you insult him, recommends movies he thinks will make you jump out your apartment window, and gives you your movies.

You’re the minor, teensy weensy headache Neil experiences everyday, but at least, at the very least, Gumshoe makes daily dollars from your rentals - kinda like the payback or relief fund a town gets after a hurricane’s run through it.

But, (somewhat?) shamefully… there’s a reason Neil doesn’t just ban you from the store and live his life without ever thinking of you again.

This reason occurred to him a month ago, when he was in the backroom, pasting barcodes and information stickers on tapes that were yet to be placed in the store. You were looking for the washroom, awkwardly stumbling through the back hallway of Gumshoe Video, and since you couldn’t find Neil — he, in spite of the nature of your relationship, trusted you to look around and rent the tapes by yourself, having done it several times while arguing with him at the counter — you had to brave through it alone.

Now, the thing about the room Neil was in — more of a shoe closet than a room, honestly — was that it was locked from the outside, and he didn’t have the key. The key was currently in the hands of one Lucien, who had gone to buy takeout for the two of them because of the late night cataloging of new tapes ahead of them.

And… he was taking about a hundred years to come back because he was trying to get the cashier’s number at their usual Chinese restaurant.

Anyway, imagine this: you’re looking for the washroom, and the door to a small room is propped open. You enter, don’t think much of the small stack of empty tape boxes acting as a door stopper, and let it close. The light in there is dim, just a shitty little ceiling light; Neil turns, tapes in his hand; you turn, after closing the door.

Finally, remember: the room is more of a shoe closet than a room.

“Jesus -- christ!” Neil yelped, startled at your sudden appearance. “What -- the hell are you doing here?”

“I take it this isn’t the bathroom?” You murmured, ignoring his question and shifting uncomfortably. Seriously, the tape closet was only meant for one person in it at a time.

If the lights were brighter, you would’ve seen how hard Neil rolled his eyes; they almost rolled out of his head. “Well, I don’t think so, given the lack of toilet, sink, and light, no.”

“Well, Neil,” you purred, hot breath curling around the sensitive skin of his neck, “maybe, just maybe, you should have a sign for the bathroom, so I don’t have my tits any closer to your face than I want them to.” You said this sweetly, voice husky, low, and oddly sultry, but Neil knew better than that: you probably wanted to fucking kill him right now.

You were right, though; your tits were flush Neil’s bandy chest, the heat between you two growing the longer you were this close in proximity.

“Now get me out of here,” you said quickly after, ignoring how warm Neil felt against your body. You’d turned so your back faced him, hands twisting at the silver knob of the door - which, Neil honestly didn’t know why was there, considering it didn’t fucking work.

Neil sighed. “The door locks from the outside.”

“What?” You said, distracted by leaning down to press your weight against the door like it was just sticky. Moments later, “…What?” you all but shrieked, hands falling from the knob, turning to face him once more.

And, again, if the lights were brighter you’d have seen Neil’s face better: he was bright fucking red, because, apparently not accounting for the small space of the room, you’d leaned and obliviously had your ass pressed right against him. It didn’t help that his large, warm hands, having long since dropped the tapes he was labeling, hung near the flesh of your rear, having nowhere else to go in the limited space.

Neil thanked the small mercy God graced upon him that there wasn’t any kind of friction, so his soft cock remained just that: soft, and barely noticed by you.

“The door locks from the outside.” Neil repeated breathlessly, the amount of air in the shoe-box room being incredibly small, too small to share between the two of you.

“Fucking…” You cursed under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief. “So, what, we have to stay here ‘till someone busts us out? What’re you gonna do if I go batshit and eat you or something?”

“For one, Lucien isn’t going to take that long to come back. Anyway, why’re you assuming you’ll overpower me - what if I go batshit and tear into you?”

You snorted, like the connotation he could overpower you was completely implausible. “Neil, Neil, Neil,” you repeated nonsensically, before lifting a hand up to his shoulder and digging your nails into him, the fabric of his shirt obviously not thick enough to distort your strength. “I could have you pinned down in less than a minute. I do other things than watch movies all day, unlike your lanky ass.”

Neil merely let out a chagrined laugh in response, hands clammy at the thought: you pinning him down— he then shook himself mentally, about to slap himself upside the head. Fucking hell, this situation was doing things to him.

“You don’t believe me?” You retorted with a raised brow. Swiftly, your hands curled around Neil’s wrists, pinning them behind him and pressing his back against you. “How about now, huh?” you whispered softly in his ear, making his head swim.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his neck, and it took everything in Neil not to let out a breathy keen — this was all too much for him: your touch, your voice, and the apparent dawning on him that he found you terribly, massively, attractive.

“Fuck, I, er - - um,” Neil scrambled for a response, when the door to the tape closet suddenly opened. Your hands released him immediately, and you strided out, breathing in deeply.

On the other side stood Lucien, plastic takeout bag in one hand, closet key in the other. “What happened to you?” he asked confusedly, as Neil filed out after you, gaze trained on your stretching figure walking off.

“We got, uh -- locked, in the- in the tape closet.” Neil murmured, thoughts still fuzzy from your rough touch.

“With her?” Lucien shuddered, handing Neil the chinese takeout bag sympathetically. “You need this food more than I do.”

So, there it was. Neil’s reason. He would’ve called you an insufferable bitch that he never wanted to see enter Gumshoe Video ever again hundreds of times by now — if your sensual voice insulting him didn’t get him all tight in the pants.

He began having thoughts — thoughts of you. You, whispering vulgar, humiliating words in his ear, your hands carding his hair, pulling tight against his scalp, selfishly making him do whatever you wanted him to do, no matter his pleas.

The fantasy was unlike anything Neil had dreamed up before, having always believed it should be him on top, him controlling the situation, him dominating — but it wasn’t a bad one. He’d come faster than he ever did before, just by imagining you were rolling your hips into his own… your strength pinning him down… your lips brushing past the shell of his ear, telling him he was so fucking dirty, so filthy for being this needy.

However, that was all just a vague, distant pipedream, especially with how you seem to actually hate him. All the interaction he’d had with you consisted of poisonous, irritated words, insults and curses — which had him feeling both incredibly turned on, and sick at the fact he was attracted to you just by being mean to him.

Sometime after that, nearing the end of the work day, Neil was the only one left there: Jonathan had taken the morning shift, and Lucien was, surprisingly, on a date with the cashier at their usual Chinese restaurant place. Looks like he succeeded in getting her number, while Neil had been pressed against you in that tiny tape closet, moments away from getting a hard-on.

So, Neil was the only one there - and you were the only customer there. Your daily routine of stopping by and verbally attacking him was late today, so it was nearing midnight when you and Neil sat on the couch and began arguing.

“I’m sure your “manly” ego isn’t at all pathetic and easily hurt by the superiority of Mia Farrow’s performance in Rosemary’s Baby.” You spat, leaning into the diverse array of old throw pillows that sat on the couch day after day.

Neil rolled his eyes, hands up in the air animatedly. “My manly ego - and I don’t enjoy the sarcasm nor the air quotes you’re using - isn’t pathetic, nor easily hurt! Mia Farrow just wasn’t better than John Cassavetes was. I stand by the fact they were equal.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, your hand coming down on Neil’s knee to dig into him angrily. “Neil, I don’t expect you to understand her performance - I don’t think anyone does, not with that little cinephile brain you have. Do you do any thinking up there, or is it just The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on rewind?”

Neil flushed, both at the insults and how your hand was on his fucking leg. “What about you? What is it that makes you keep coming back here if you think my opinion is so… worthless and entitled?”

You grit your teeth, leaning in closer to him. “Because, Neil, this is the only other video tape shop for miles, and I will not be caught dead at Media Giant. Trust me, I despise this - “arrangement” of ours, far more than you do.”

He huffed, his gaze trailing over your features, unable to come up with a response: he was too busy focussing, trying not to zero in on how your face was inches away from one his, your fingers oddly inching up his thigh.

“Don’t go making this about me. Why is it,” your continued, hands traced dizzying circles into the fabric of his jeans, “that you don’t just kick me out? I come in here, day after day, berating you, ignoring your recommendations… shouldn’t I have been banned a long time ago?”

Neil gulped. “You’re still a - a customer, one who rents daily I might add—“

You smirked up at him. “Don’t lie to me. I know Gumshoe’s doing just fine… and I heard you, y’know? Last week… in your office.”

“What? What are you talking about?” He stammered out, racking his head for what he might’ve been doing in his office— fuck.

Fuck, he thought, mind racing rapidly, he thought you had already left by the time he started—

“I heard you, hiding in your office… stroking yourself, moaning my name.”

You’d rented just one tape last Friday, for a movie date with a guy from work, and you almost left - before realizing Neil took your membership card and never gave it back. You waltzed back in, and to your obvious surprise, Neil wasn’t at the register.

“Neil?” You called out softly, trying not to spark an argument with him that would span hours, because you were trying to show up to this date on time.

You walked down the back hallway, and found his office door, which had a gleaming NEIL LEWIS printed on its foggy glass.

Your hand had almost reached for the handle, his name on the tip of your tongue, when you heard a needy whine slip past the door. Shocked, you lingered and pulled your hand away, pressing your ear against the pane to listen closer.

“God, fuck,” you heard Neil curse, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. “Need you so bad,” you heard him whisper to no-one but himself, before a low moan belted out of him.

Your face grew warm, immediately, flushed at the news that Neil-fuckin’-Lewis was jerking off, in his office, mumbling your name. You squeezed your eyes shut, continuing to listen to his pretty voice, and after several moments of your lust-riddled mind drinking in his sweet noises, how he was so focussed on his pleasure while completely oblivious to your listening in, you found one of your hands coming up to tweak your erect nipple — fuck, his stuttered little moans had your cunt pulsing with utter need.

Neil was getting close, you could tell, hearing him buck into - what you assumed - was his wooden desk, sloppily muffled mewls leaving his mouth.

You were biting down on your lip, hard, an incredible amount of self control in place. The man was so horny, sounding so fucking submissive it drove you insane: just the thought that he’d bend to your will and do whatever you wanted made your legs clench.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending who you ask, you felt your phone begin buzzing in the waistband of your modesty shorts - probably the date you were late for - and you had quickly fled.

“Oh, jesus,” Neil blurted out now, alarmed, immediately in the flight part of fight or flight. “I- whatever you heard, I can - I can explain, really, so please don’t—“

Your hand gripped his thigh, keeping him from getting up. “Hey, hey, shh,” you said, bringing a finger to your lips. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I know, just as well as you do, how bad you want me.”

Truly, Neil couldn’t control himself that night. You had walked in, wearing a delicious little dress with a sweetheart neckline, strolling around in 3-inch heels, cooing mockingly at his costume for that week’s theme — a criminal wearing nifty little handcuffs to promote the double feature promotion of crime films and dramas — purposely leaning down to make him feel smaller than you.

Neil had flushed, looking away, willing himself not to let out a needy groan at your get-up, instead silently checking out your tape rentals and quickly handing them back to you. After you’d walked out of the store, he’d dashed to his office, feeling the tent in his pants grow warm, aching.

Quite similarly to how he felt now, your eyes coursing over his entire form, so close Neil felt himself sinking into the couch.

“Look how fucking hard you are already.” you whispered, hand drawing away from his thigh and reaching for the bulge in his jeans, palming him between the fabric. “Does it turn you on? The fact you got caught?”

Neil’s breath hitched. “Fuck, please, I—“

“You’re so pathetic.” You said, laughing at him. “I can feel how big you are, such a thick cock, and all you know how to do with it is beg.”

Your plush lips were curled into a cheshire grin, baring your sharp teeth at him, and Neil was ashamed at how badly he wanted those teeth to press painful bites into his sensitive skin.

He was about to whine again, plead desperately, but he shut up when you slipped off the couch, sinking to your knees, fingers undoing his belt buckle and fly. Shifting his jeans down, you dipped your hand down the waistband of his boxers and pulled his cock out: it was angry, hard and begging for release.

But you wanted to tease him before you got to the good part. First, your warm breath fanned over his cock, making him jump, trying to rut up into your mouth, and your soft lips slipping past his leaking head had his hands tugging at your hair, trying to pull you closer to him.

You thinned your eyes and got up, hand pressing his cheeks together and forcing his jaw open. You spit into his mouth, then patronizingly patted his face, “Do that again and I won’t touch you - I’ll take my tapes and leave you a needy fucking mess on this couch.”

Neil groaned, your spit foreign and hot on his tongue like lava. “God, I… I just wanna — want you so bad.”

You tutted, sinking back down on your knees to face his rock hard length up and pressed flat against his abdomen. “Not yet. You haven’t earned it, you desperate fucking pervert. D’you know who jerks off in their office to someone they barely know? Fucking perverts.”

He leaned his head back, a moan leaving his lips at your insulting choice of words. It felt like you were torturing him, but his body wanted nothing more than you.

Your lips then ghosted past him for another moment before you started your assault on his strained cock: you laid tentative kitten licks all the way down his length, enjoying how he squirmed under you, wanting nothing more but your wet mouth around him. Then, without warning, you took him in your mouth whole, tongue dragging and curling around his cock. You devoured him salaciously, hollowing your cheeks, sliding his cock in and out of your full mouth at an alarming speed, hitting the back of your neck with each thrust.

Your tongue felt heavenly on his cock: wet, warm, and sticky, lapping at him without stopping. Your teeth grazed against him lightly, and Neil’s back arched into your touch.

He was practically convulsing now, drooling as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the pure pleasure you were inflicting on him with no split second or moment for him to regain his composure. You wanted to see him fall apart, come undone just by your mouth, he realized, and he wanted to let you, wanted to let go — but, as fast as you’d taken his hard cock into your mouth, you let him drop from your lips.

“Why did you - please, fuck -- why did you stop?!” Neil whimpered noisily, head rolling onto his chest to look down at your face: lips plump, faint tear tracks running off your cheeks, your gagged spit falling from your chin.

“I oughta take you down a peg, Neil. Show you what a dumb fucking loser you are, pretending you’re so confident, so dominant, like you know everything there is about movies.” You responded nonchalantly, getting up and shedding your panties and leggings.

“M’not dumb,” he whined, looking at you through heavy lidded eyes, “god, you’re killing me here.”

“You’ll live,” you grinned, climbing on his lap and lining your wet sex with the fat head of his cock. Then you descended down on him, watching blissfully as his cock disappeared into your folds.

Neil’s hands wrapped around your waist, burying his face into your neck. He mewled against your skin, drunk on your tantalizing scent, lips wet with drool and leaving a slick trail.

Despite your dominance in this situation, completely controlling Neil’s pleasure, you couldn’t control your own: Neil’s cock felt fucking good, long and thick in all the right places, a curve that arched right against your cervix, veins rubbing against your walls pleasantly. He stretched your cunt completely, making you wince, but there was still pleasure there, the feeling of your crevices being filled with his fat cock making your toes curl.

After a moment of getting used to his cock, you rose back up, then sunk down, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. Neil’s head shot back, a labored cry leaving him as you set a steady, almost too slow pace, torturously sliding his cock in and out of your tight hole.

Your hands trailed across his still-clothed chest, and you grieved the chance lost to have stripped him, your touch teasing him every step of the way — but having him deep within you was probably better.

“Your- fuck, you’re so -- so soft,” Neil squeaked below you, revelling in how you took him, bottoming out each time like it was nothing.

You simpered at his words, how helpless he was, succumbing to the pleasure; to you. “Knew you were,” you slammed down on his cock, making Neil choke, “pretending to be arrogant. You just needed someone to put you in your place.”

Neil hadn’t realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question until your hand came up to his hair, tangling through his locks and tugging. “Who d’you belong to? Who put you in your place?” you murmured lowly.

He whimpered at your roughness, leaning into the sofa obediently. “You! You own me,” he pleaded, desperately chasing his own pleasure.

“That’s it,” you said, shutting your eyes, bobbing up and down on his cock faster. Your ass bounced above him, and Neil’s hands rested on the flesh of your rear, massaging you.

Greedily, Neil tried to thrust into you, but you weren’t having any of it, deterring his attempts by pushing him so he laid flat on the couch, your hands pinning his wrists above his head, the new position pushing him deeper into you.

“You stay down, you dirty fuckin’ loser,” you said caustically, but your actions said otherwise: your walls were squeezing around him needily, your cunt sucking him in so far you could feel his balls brushing against your clit.

The tip of his cock brushed past your g-spot each time you rutted into him, and soon enough you felt it: that pulsing, that heat, that familiar coiling within your insides. Neil was reaching it too, his face flushed pink and his breathing as heavy as it was back then, in the tape closet.

You began thumping down on him, your fingers tightening around his scalp. Your pace had gotten feverish, bordering feral, both your minds focussed on one thing: release. You could feel your cunt tensing, your mind going foggy, and then, there it was: your pleasure ran through you like electric current, shocking your body. You felt numb, tingly like when the blood flow to your arm gets cut off for a moment, making your pace stutter.

You didn’t stop, however, riding out your high on his cock, bouncing up and down on Neil’s thick length. He felt fucking delicious, piercing you in all the right ways, and you adored how malleable he was right now: so horny and submissive he stopped speaking and was merely letting dirty moans leave his mouth without any protest. His gaze, his focus, was elsewhere, lost in the deep haze of pleasure your cunt was subjecting him too.

You leaned down, pressing small love-bites onto his skin like he’d fantasized so many times before, and it broke him out of his stupor. “Did you think of this, in your office?” you whispered, “did you think of me, my tits bouncing, your cock deep in my cunt?”

“Ugh,” Neil groaned, reveling in how your seductive voice sounded like music. He was much, much closer than he thought, and when you licked up his jaw, your hot breath on the shell of his ear making him sweat, your cunt still fucking him roughly, he let go.

You felt it first, the familiar liquid bursting past his thick head and painting your fleshy walls creamy, like a new coat of alabaster that Gumshoe desperately needed.

“So good, so wet,” Neil groaned, shutting his eyes and pressing his forehead to yours. You stared at him, watching his lewd expression throughout his entire high, waiting for that beautiful blue gaze of his to open and face you again.

“I’m milking you dry. Look how fucking full you’ve made me, you filthy pervert.” You were taking him for every drop he could offer, and it was delectable.

You two were heaving now, both coming down from your highs. You’d effectively ruined the couch, your slick soaking the cushions and his jeans, as well as his come, which was leaning out of your still-stuffed hole.

“I think you’ve gotta replace this manky ass couch, Neil,” was the first thing you said, your hands sliding down from their grip in his hair to his pink cheeks, rubbing his skin delicately.

His eyes opened, watching you carefully. “It was about time,” Neil shrugged breathlessly. “Do you… do you actually - hate me?” he continued, murmuring self-consciously.

You laughed, but it wasn’t sharp, not at him like before, no; it was tender, like a scarf Neil wanted to wrap around him in the winter time.

“I never hated you,” you murmured, tone reverent, “you’re just a little, how does it go…”

“Presumptuous?” Neil finished for you.

You nodded, then grasped at his shirt and pulled him from the couch so he was sitting upright again. “Jus’ wanted to, ahem, “take you down a peg” like I said earlier..” you trailed off, cheeks growing warm remembering your earlier behavior during sex.

This was all very new, to the both of you — you, in all your relationships and flings, were not the dominant partner. You guessed there was a first time for everything.

Then, you were about to get off his lap, but Neil held you steady on his cock. “Don’t go,” he said simply. “I’ve got Brief Encounter in the player, if you want to, y’know…”

He wasn’t hard anymore, but it just felt good, cozy, having you two talk and regain your composure with him filling you nicely. It felt right.

You smiled, a gummy, blissful smile. “Okay. I’ve actually never seen this,” you said, turning to face the tv, wincing slightly.

“Really?” Neil said, an amazed joy seeping into his voice.

“I’m joking,” you snorted, and you could practically see Neil pouting behind you. “But I don’t think we’ll be paying much attention…” you purred, clenching your thighs around his length.

“Jesus fuck,” Neil groaned behind you, hands coming under your shirt, “you’re exactly like those movies.”

“I’m even better, baby.”

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