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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

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heegyukeluv · 5 months ago

Text

your eyes only (lhs) - req

pairing: heeseung x afab & musical actress!reader

synopsis: You were used to having all eyes on you; after all, as a renowned musical actress, capturing everyone's attention was part of your job. But the moment you noticed a pair of eyes in the audience gazing at you with such passion, you knew things would change.

my's note: first and foremost A✨!!!!! YOUR VISION!!!!!! please i’m so happy you gifted me with the pleasure of developing this super cute and loving story. i really had so much fun writing it, and i hope you like it too!! also during the smut scene i got a bit carried away by these pics and maybe i’ve dedicated too much time talking about heeseung’s arms 😀 not sorry btw

warnings: fluff, small angsty (but with a happy ending!!!), explicit language, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex 💪🏻, fingering, kinda rough sex? (this is the roughest i think i can do, unironically lol). lmk if I missed something!

request: reader is a musical actor/actress who takes many roles in musicals, plays, some movies and so and so forth. heeseung goes to one of the reader's musicals and is enamored by their voice and talent, and of course, their looks. (read the full request here!)

wc: 19k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

Heeseung rushed his way out of his car, jogging through the people in the middle of his route to get to the theater as soon as he could, already knowing Sunoo was so pissed off with his lateness.

He spotted the blonde haired furiously typing on his phone with a scowl expression, alone, waiting for him.

“Don’t even start with your lame excuses,” Sunoo stopped Heeseung before he said anything when he finally got to the younger’s side, glaring up from his phone and already hurrying his steps towards the theater entrance.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung tried his best to sound apologetic, softening his gaze, opting for not making up any justification.

It wasn’t like he purposely got stuck in the traffic at all, however, he definitely was guilty about leaving the house twenty minutes later than he promised, just because he decided to finish up his League game.

It was Saturday, of course he would choose to spend some screen time doing his favorite hobby.

“I know you don’t like musicals, or almost anything related, but you kinda gave me your word, so…”

They both walked side by side, stopping quickly to show their tickets to the worker who let them in after verifying it in the system.

“I know, I know. And I’m really sorry.”

The lights were already off as the show was about to start, making them struggle a bit to find their seats; close to the edge and not too far from the stage.

“You won’t regret coming, Hee.” Sunoo smiled sweetly, already at ease with his behavior, picking up his phone to take a picture of the glowing set, just waiting for the right moment to start. He wasn’t really pissed with Heeseung, he knew the older one was actually doing him a favor. “I saw some pictures on instagram and it’s so pretty.”

Although Sunoo wasn’t lying about him, he was actually excited with the idea of watching something so different from his natural liking, and the bright, enthusiastic face Sunoo showed made his expectations grow even higher.

Heeseung diverted his eyes to the theater main floor when the instrumental started sounding through the speakers, indicating the play was about to start, a shiver of excitement running all the way through his spine while he straightened his back on the chair.

The story was being told from the main character’s perspective, as expected. But what really got Heeseung tilting his head to the side and his eyes glistening in interest was the incredible beauty of the actress.

She had expressions on point, as if she was born to be there, happily wandering through the whole stage with bright smiles, looking at the crowd once and a while and acting with pure talent. She shone in between the other actors, drawing attention easily towards her. Of course she had the main character aura that helped it a lot, however, at some point Heeseung was sure that he, himself, had an extra spotlight on her, eyes never leaving her meticulously calculated movements and attractive face.

The way she showed raw emotions from the beginning got Heeseung laughing, worried and relieved – a rollercoaster of emotions he never thought he would go through just by watching a Tangled musical.

He also caught himself wishing for the actress to drift her eyes through the crowd just once more, so she would feel his intense gaze and look at his way, in a very utopic, hopeless, line of thought.

When the said Aurora got the chance to finally sing, Heeseung just let himself completely fall in love, unconsciously sighing as his heart faltered a beat every once. He didn’t expect her to have such a loving, enchanting, singing voice, making his body ache in despair to have more of it.

The final act got him all smiling, clapping his hands with genuine enthusiasm as the actors bowed to the crowd thanking them for watching. When the curtains dramatically closed, Heeseung inclined his head a bit to the center so he could watch you going away, leaving him with a taste for more.

He thought about trying to go to the backstage, especially when he saw a few people lining up apparently to get a photo with the cast, but Sunoo was already walking his way out of the theater and he deduced it had some kind of special ticket to get that.

“Who is Aurora?” Heeseung eagerly asked Sunoo when they stepped out of the theater, walking through the parking lot. He had literal crossed fingers hidden inside his jacket pockets, in hopes of Sunoo knowing about the actress.

Sunoo playfully raised an eyebrow. “I know you don’t like musicals, but not to know who Aurora is, is kinda–”

“No, I meant the actress,” Heeseung hurried to correct himself, blaming the fact he was still in awe. “Do you know her name?”

“Oh,” Sunoo replied by taking his phone out of his pocket and opening his instagram, showing the screen to Heeseung. “It’s Y/N. She’s one of the most famous actresses for musicals like that. I love her acts, like all of them,” he replied with a big smile, gesturing with his hands.

Heeseung quickly got his phone to follow you after getting your username, not even caring about thanking Sunoo as he slid through your cute feed, shamelessly liking some of them. It wasn’t like you would notice him, as you had thousands of followers and a very busy routine, as it looked like.

And oh, you were so, so beautiful.

“So, how do you like it?” Sunoo asked with a small smirk when they stopped by Heeseung’s car, not failing to notice how the older one got really invested, although he wasn’t much sure if the fixation was about the musical itself or you.

“Honestly?” Heeseung locked his phone and opened his car. “I loved it more than I expected,” he answered with a genuine smile, a smile that did nothing to hide his real interest.

“It’s a pity this is the last one,” Sunoo said with a small pout when he entered the car, sitting on the passenger seat.

“W–What do you mean the last one?” Heeseung halted all his movements to fully face Sunoo with a slightly bewildered expression, who offered him confused eyes and a small frown.

“It’s the last Tangled musical they're gonna do,” he explained. “Y’know, they don’t do the same musicals over and over again. Especially with Y/N. She’s constantly casted for new ones,” Sunoo added, watching Heeseung’s face softening in relief before he started to drive.

“You seem to know a lot about her,” Heeseung said with curiosity, eyeing Sunoo quickly before paying attention back to the road, the street lights passing by working as a beautiful background.

“Yeah, I really love her work.” He said with a dreamy tone, and Heeseung nodded, since now he was kind of loving your work too. “It’s a shame we don’t get to have more from her here in the town.”

“Hm?” Heeseung's head snapped to face Sunoo, and gladly he had stopped at the red light in time.

“Musicals work almost like a band tour. They go through the whole country, stopping by cities for one or two weeks, it depends on the demand. This one had a three week engagement here!” He said excitedly, Heeseung paying attention to every detail. His heart sank inside his chest with the now acknowledgement of how your job worked, and the fact that he definitely wasn’t going to see you soon. “But college got me stuck, so I didn’t have the time to come and watch it. That’s why today was so special, as I texted you. It was the last one.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Heeseung said with a tender, genuine smile.

Heeseung’s car stopped by Sunoo’s place, and with a quick goodbye he left, leaving behind a completely silent Heeseung, lost in his own thoughts. How would he feed his newest obsession?

When Heeseung finally got back into his apartment, he cared little about changing his clothes into something more comfortable, sprawling on the couch while stalking your social media for a bit.

He watched your newly posted instagram stories, most of them being reposts of videos and photos from the audience that tagged you into it, saying how proud of you they were, how much they liked and how pretty you looked.

Heeseung remembered Sunoo taking a picture of the set before the play started, and quickly asked him for it so he could post it on his story as well, using the lame excuse that he wanted to show his followers his most new-found interest.

Of course Sunoo didn’t really bought it, but sent it anyway.

Heeseung had never felt nervous about posting something on his instagram, especially on his story, a place where pictures and videos only lasted 24 hours. Nevertheless, in the past you weren’t in the equation, you weren’t the main target, you didn’t even existed to him. So he double-checked the small text and if the picture looked good enough to stand out in between the probably hundred others you got tagged into, pressing the “send” button.

“First time watching it. I loved it so much. You really know how to catch people's attention @ y/n ;)”.

As the picture loaded, Heeseung instantly wondered if it was too much, with widened eyes and heart pacing fast, panicking a bit as he paid close attention to how some of his friends liked and replied to it almost immediately, but nothing came from you.

He waited for a few minutes for your possible repost, since you were online just seconds ago, scrolling through his timeline, a chill feeling overgrowing in his chest every time the small red ball of notification painted the top of his phone. Then he let out a defeated sigh as the reality settled in – meeting you was unlikely, and the chances of someone as famous as you noticing an ordinary guy like him seemed impossible.

That night he hopelessly hoped to dream about you and your voice, so he could experience more of your distant, idol-like presence. He was so intrigued about you. Your beautiful features, your perfect acting, your incredible voice, everything extremely fascinating for his poor, weak heart.

Unfortunately Heeseung did not dreamt about you, but he woke up with his phone buzzing under his pillow.

With eyes squinting, Heeseung tried to understand why he got followed by a bunch of random people on instagram from last night. There were also a lot of texts from Sunoo in caps lock that his mind skipped reading and his everyday notifications that he always ignored. And then his attention was caught with your name.

He expected you to repost as you were doing for the majority of your fans, but you didn’t only reposted. You replied to him, directly.

“Thank you, sweetheart! Hope to see you more, then <3”

“It’s just a message. She probably sends it to everyone. She seems reachable through her social media.”

Heeseung was trying to convince Sunoo – and himself – that your reply meant nothing but a simple, standard gesture from an artist thanking their fans. After all, he was a grown man who understood how the industry worked, how they encouraged fanservices as a way of attracting more people from the outside and maintaining the ones who already considered themselves as fans.

Albeit his heart danced a different melody than his mind, doing flips just by remembering your sweet words.

“I don’t think so,” Sunoo retorted with a small grimace as he finished cleaning the corner of the cafeteria’s main counter. “The usual?” He asked Heeseung before getting ready to make his drink.

“Yeah, I’m running late for work,” Heeseung replied, glancing at his phone just to confirm that he probably would be ten minutes late to that morning’s meeting.

“But I think you should shoot your shot, y’know,” Sunoo said with a grin while mixing all the ingredients. “Slide into her DM’s or something.”

Heeseung couldn’t hold back a small chuckle, leaning his upper body on the counter. “Is that how young people flirt nowadays?”

Sunoo threw an offended glare at him. “Don’t act like you’re an oldie. You’re literally only 2 years older than me,” Heeseung laughed loudly at his reaction, shaking his head.

“I won’t do any of that, Sunoo,” he said softly and straightened his posture. “I’d rather just follow her work from afar. Me being in the audience and her, on the stage. That’s the closest I can get from her,” he now spoke more firmly, as if he tried to ground Sunoo’s expectative – and his own – down to reality.

He spent his whole Sunday watching filmed performances from some of your old plays, unable to get enough of your angelic voice, your palpable talent, and of course, your gorgeous, captivating outstanding looks. The knowledge that your job made you be constant for a year or less, and then you were away for months, preparing for the next musical, shattered his hope and made him accept that he would have to wait for you to return.

“Well, you do you. But in my personal opinion, you’re missing a big opportunity,” Sunoo handed Heeseung’s coffee, waiting for the charge and the usual tip.

Once again, Heeseung shook his head, smiling and paying for his drink. “Thank you, have a great day Sunoo.”

“You too, Hee.”

Heeseung wouldn’t admit that easily, but he gathered some of his favorite performances from you in a youtube playlist, so he could listen to it while driving through the city, the way to his work sounding prettier with your beautiful voice echoing in his ears.

As he parked his car, rushing to his meeting, he didn’t felt the large amount of stress he normally dealt with during Mondays, your melodic singing still fresh on his mind, easing the way he handled things through the day.

The following weeks passed fast with his daily routine; you, still filling up his head in an addicting mix of your sweet vocals and his eagerness of witnessing you owning the stage again.

Heeseung craved the electrifying rush of his heart racing with wonder after you captivated his soul he once felt when first watched you perform, as if he was in abstinence.

He monitored your social media for almost two months, hoping to see an announcement of your next musical or anything similar enough to give him a chance to listen and see you live, feeling extra hyped whenever he saw a picture of your practice, or other things related to your upcoming project.

He never got so invested in something or someone the way he was in you, especially after just so little time tasting from the source.

During a random Tuesday, fauxing listening to Jake’s rant about his new love interest and how confused he was feeling, he caught himself traveling through his own head, wondering what triggered this obsessive behavior.

Was it how dreamy you looked and sounded?

Was it the fact that he had to wait to get more from you?

Or maybe was the fact you were unreachable, acting like a bait to his delusional romantic heart?

Did he really fell in love with a famous person?

How bad was that?

“And you're ignoring me again.”

Heeseung blinked a few times to regain his consciousness back to reality, the one where Jake was shooting him an annoyed look and his food was getting cold; the thoughts about you and his respective questions evaporating from his mind quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit distracted today,” Heeseung slurped his, now, cold ramen, avoiding Jake’s judgmental eyes and grabbing his phone to see the notification that got it buzzing on the table.

“Oh, you tell me.” He rolled his eyes, before giving a quick head nod at Heeseung’s direction. “What’s going on?”

“Uh, nothing. You can continue your–” Heeseung was about to change the subject back to whatever Jake was talking, not wanting to admit that the reason he got so zoned out was you, although Jake was pretty much aware of this part of his friend’s life; Heeseung being a mess and failing completely in the art of downplaying. But then he saw Sunoo’s message. “Oh shit.”

“What?” Jake asked with concern, observing Heeseung’s expression morphing from a shocking one with widened eyes and mouth slightly agape, to an extremely joyful one, with a big smile creeping out of his lips, growing gradually.

“Oh shit, oh shit.”

“What!?” Jake exasperated, almost jumping over the table to try and see what got Heeseung so excited on his phone, curiosity overtaking him. “Huh?” He tilted his head with confusion, sitting back on his chair, trying to understand Heeseung’s overly stoked reaction over a simple poster from a musical.

On the other hand Heeseung’s heart was racing too quickly for his own liking, his hands faltering the grip on his phone as he read the dates for the performances, which were starting that weekend in some random place he didn’t paid attention since what caught his eyes was the theater name from the next week.

He couldn’t believe it.

You were coming back.

After all the waiting, here was the chance he'd been craving – the chance to see you live again. His fingers twitched with excitement as he clicked on the link to the ticket sales, not even caring about Jake’s bewildered face and questions, too focused on rushing to the ‘buy menu’.

“Oh shit, this is happening,” Heeseung muttered to himself, more to confirm it than to explain anything to Jake.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or just forget I’m right here?” Jake demanded, clearly frustrated but also amused by Heeseung's sudden outburst.

Heeseung finally looked up, beaming, eyes gleaming with something Jake never really saw before; it was like a child who got their first videogame after years of asking for it.

"It’s her, Jake! That singer I told you about. She’s performing here in like… A few days?" The cool facade he tried to maintain had a fall long ago, his ‘fanboy side’ being more revealed than he wanted.

Jake’s confusion lingered for a second before he remembered Heeseung relentlessly talking about this mysterious woman, the musical actress who had somehow captivated his friend so intensely. He let out a knowing groan. “So, you’re still obsessing over her, huh?”

“Not obsessing,” Heeseung corrected with a grin that betrayed him, his whole expression showing that he was, in fact, obsessing. “Just… Eager.”

Jake shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Eager, huh?” He leaned closer, raising an eyebrow up. “Yeah, that’s what everyone says, and then they spend a fortune on front-row tickets."

“Oh, right. Front-row…” Heeseung mumbled to himself as he got back to his phone, browsing through the available seats, hands slightly trembling as his finger pressed down to choose one of the best seats in the theater – front and center – with Jake’s words echoing in his mind. Thanks to Sunoo, he saw the announcement just in enough time to pick that one, and he completely ignored the price for the said ticket.

“You’re really doing this?” Jake asked, incredulous watching Heeseung smile growing just before he bit his lower lip trying to contain it, as he leaned back on his chair.

“I have to,” Heeseung said, finding it hard to not smile. His whole body was partying with his heartbeat serving as the background music. "This is my chance to see her again."

Jake rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’re so random.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung admitted with a shrug, his thoughts already drifting to the date he would see you, imagining your captivating presence on stage, singing with your ethereal voice, finally feeling every note in the same room as you with the attention you deserved.

He couldn’t wait.

Every time you opened a new show in a different city, your body reacted as if it was your first time on stage, the blended nervousness and excitement working perfectly together and resulting in an adrenaline boost for you to be on cloud nine.

You loved your job with all your soul. The family-like friendship you developed with your beloved crewmates and actors, the backstage of the plays where you sometimes helped with the props letting your creativity flow freely, the difficult work of memorizing the scenes keeping it to the original at the same time you add a few self-written lines here and there, even the chaos of the quick costume changes and fast makeup touch-up in between scenes.

But what got into your heart the most was the ability to sing your voice out, being the one under the spotlight, expressing yourself through your acting, surprising people with your so known talent the same amount you made them clap for your breathtaking performances – the cheers after every play you finished making you fulfilled, a constant feeling of accomplishment.

You worked hard to get into that position though. Years of intense studying in college, years of hard vocal lessons you still took to this day, years of working much to be paid less, until fame hit you and things have worked amazingly well since then.

Now, facing the closed curtains already in your performer mode, you waited your cue to enter the stage and own it as if it was yours – and almost every time, it actually was.

“Thirty seconds, Y/N,” your stage manager said to you and you nodded.

The new play was about an old film called Anastasia, in which you played the role of the said character. It also featured one of your favorite songs to sing, "Once Upon a December”. The haunting melody and lyrics evoked feelings of nostalgia, hitting deep on you as you drove yourself through it, just like the main character, searching for your identity and place in the world.

The atmosphere your fellow actors and crewmates created while you sang was the epitome of your presentation in your opinion; the created ballroom simulating phantoms dancing around you, so endearingly majestic and graceful, while they, themselves, sang the background, mimicking the lost memories of royalty Anastasia.

It would be an euphemism if you expressed yourself as just excited, especially due to your practice time on your expressions and voice changes to sound as heartbreak as the musical actually was, expecting the general opinion to enjoy it as much as you did.

You could hear the buzz from the public, showing the same enthusiasm. And with that in mind, you got your cue to enter the stage, fast and confident steps guiding you to your place.

As you directed yourself through the stage gracefully, easily taking the breath of anyone watching you, once more the sentiment of belonging eveloped you with a mix of love and deep sense of purpose.

The cheering, the emotional tears, the claps. You felt the audience's admiration through their eyes as the final note echoed in the theater while you held your last pose, breathing heavily as the weight of your performance resonated in your heart.

The curtains closed after you and the other actors bowed to the crowd, who gave a standing ovation to all of you. Your smile was bright and big as you walked your way to the backstage, high-fiving your co-workers – your friends –, sharing the sentiment of accomplishment as you searched for some water, throat extremely dry after so much effort.

Before you could even think about anything else, someone suddenly bear-hugged you.

“I don’t know how you manage to awe me everytime.”

You laughed, letting your friend lift and swirl you. “Oh come on, Jay. You literally saw every single practice,” you said with a light-hearted teasing tone and Jay gently put you back on the floor, letting you go from his strong embrace.

He rolled his eyes before replying. “You did amazing, as always.”

“We did amazing. It's teamwork, don’t forget it,” you winked at him and you both walked to one of the couches, so you could sit and rest for a bit. Your knees burned like hell after spending so much time wandering across the stage. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of that alone, especially without my favorite producer,” you nudged his shoulder playfully, drinking more of your water, making Jay chuckle.

The whole cast and some other crewmates came to compliment your amazing performance, you praising them back and always highlighting how grateful you were to have them not only as co-workers, but as a family, acknowledging the strong importance of their roles during your performances and in your life.

You went through the things that needed to be fixed for the next shows with your stage manager, the small changes in positions for the next theaters the tour would go based on their size and structure, while listening to the equipment and props crew discussing similar stuff.

“So… Where are we going to celebrate our “Anastasia debut”?” Yunjin asked, already frustrated with the fact that all her fellow members were talking about work just after working, you included.

“Don’t you have work to do?” You shoot her a small, playful grimace and she mimicked it, mocking you.

“I just did it, idiot.”

You smiled big as you hugged her from the waist, pulling her closer while resting your cheek on her belly, before questioning. “Where do you wanna go?”

Although partying wasn’t a part of your overall interest, having some drinks with the ones you cherished to be around always sounded fun, so with Yunjin leading – as usual –, many of you followed her into a small pub, having the fun you deserved after months of work that leaded to that night’s rewarding performance.

You couldn’t wait for the upcoming ones, your schedule packed with the amount of dates programmed for a long, exciting, run.

“Ugh, I love Seoul,” Yunjin murmured with a concentrated frown as she took some pictures from the bus window.

You chuckled, quickly glancing at your friend before grabbing your phone so you could reread some of the lines from the musical. Not that you struggled with memorizing the great amount of words you normally got, but you never let the chance to do a double check-up pass; always offering your bestest to your beloved audience was your prime motto.

So you didn’t even realize when the bus started slowing its speed, snapping out of your focused bubble only when you started to hear a small chant of your name. You looked up from your phone screen, watching a little crowd pass by the glass window waving at it showing big smiles, without even knowing if someone was noticing or not.

You always did.

Part of your job was to handle an audience, to make them fall in love with your acting and singing, so you could maintain them as close as possible and keep being able to live from what you loved the most. You enjoyed the interactions, treating them with the same amount of kindness and fondness they showed you through cute texts and letters, not to mention their words whenever they got to meet you in person. You tried to make yourself as available as you could, organizing your day to always have some free time to talk with your fans through your social media.

Although exhausting sometimes, it was a worthwhile endeavor at the end of the day – to sleep with the fresh conscience and heart fulfilled, feeling their genuine love and support, no money could pay that.

When you finally settled at your hotel room, you gave yourself a small self-love treatment by taking a long shower and doing your skin care before heading to the theater with part of the cast to do all the warm-ups routine you needed.

The day carried a revitalizing sensation, your heart thumping with enthusiasm as the third performance of Anastasia approached. This time, however, it was more than special. It was in Seoul, your hometown – a simple fact that worked perfectly as an emotional aura for your background story.

Seoul always held a special place in your heart. No matter how the tour went, you made sure your managers knew that taking Seoul off the list was unforgivable; no matter the demand, no matter how much you could lose financially, you had to perform there. And you thanked your cast and respective crewmates for understanding your request.

While you wrapped up all the final touches from your makeup, hair and costume, drinking your last sip of water, you waited for your cue, as usual, unaware of the surprises the night held for you.

Because on the other side of the story...

Heeseung sat on his front seat with hands trembling and a fluttering heart. Every movement from the crew organizing the set to be perfect made him sweat in eagerness. He was so close to see you again, to witness your charming presence, your divine vocals. He didn’t knew much about the story from Anastasia, expecting for you to sweetly tell him through your performance.

He was actually absorbed in the story being told, albeit his leg shaking showed his anticipation for your appearance.

Thenyou finally stepped up onto the stage. Heeseung’s breath got caught on his throat, widened eyes glued on your every move, on your every expression, never daring to let you escape out of its sight; the front-row seat offering him the perfect view of your amazing looks and talented acting, the sound echoing through the theater tingling his ears in the best way possible.

Then your voice filled up the theater. Heeseung let out a quiet sigh, mouth slightly opened, feeling light headed by how gorgeous you sounded – there was it again, the rush of his heart fluttering in the addicting way it did before, entranced by you, this time intensified, stronger, far more passionate.

As the melody of “Once Upon a December” flew through the air, your beautiful, shooting tone made it even harder not to shed some tears, alongside the couples dancing around you in an atmosphere almost painfully beautiful.

Heeseung was so enamored by every detail of you. How you expressed emotions with your body, with your singing, with your facials. His gaze never left you, following through your out’s and in’s from the stage to change outfits or scenes, missing you every moment you weren’t on the stage.

During your performance, each glimpse you shot at the crowd sent a shiver down his spine, as he silently begged for you to give him one, quick, minimal look, the smallest attention you could offer to him.

For a brief second, you did. Not intentional, but your eyes meet for milliseconds. Heeseung’s heart skipped a beat; the way you smiled as if it was to him fed his delusional self too hard for his own liking. He had to ground himself back to reality in order to continue to savor your captivating performance.

From your point of view, something was different that night. Among the sea of concentrated, curious expressions you normally faced while on stage, one particular person kept drawing your attention in a way it never happened before.

You came across many people watching you, most of them with widened eyes, or mouth open, or a small smile, regular reactions you got from the audience once you showed up.

However, the young man sitting in the front-row flooded you with such endearing reactions; his eyes gleaming with admiration, intensely following your every move almost making you blush. He looked at you as if you were the only person in the room. Soft, tender expression sending a weird mix of reactions through your body.

As you kept doing your act, you couldn't help but glance back at him again whenever you got the chance, trying your best not to be obvious with your sudden curiosity about this stranger who seemed so completely captivated by you.

His reaction was almost adorable – the way his face lit up, as though your small acknowledgment had made his entire night. You felt a warmth in your chest, knowing that someone out there was this touched by your performance.

Through the rest of the play, you forced yourself to focus only on finishing it perfectly. “Anastasia” asked for less of a passion, happy ambiance and more of a sentimental one, and because the spotlight was constantly on you, it was very unprofessional to forget your main reason to be there and falter on your acting.

Nevertheless, each time you quickly landed your gaze on the strange, young – and attractive – man, you couldn’t help. He wasn’t just a regular fan. There was something more in his orbs, something deeper, something magnetic, and you caught yourself having an internal conflict.

As you held your pose for the last piece of the play, showering emotion through your eyes for the happy ending, you nodded proudly to yourself when the cast prepared to wrap things up with the final performance.

Whoever the strange was, you apparently made quite an impression. And maybe, just maybe, he had made one on you too.

“Anastasia” was scheduled to be performed for three consecutives days, an entire weekend. Heeseung bought tickets for all of them, craving to experience you in all the ways he was able to – with the big stage separating you both, leaving him to just observe you from afar while you did your job.

Your job.

After the first night finished, Heeseung questioned himself whether he was perceiving things beyond reality, maybe distorted, influenced by his strange, yet pleasant and intense feelings for you. If not, he was pretty sure that you watched him as much as he watched you.

He recognized the flips his heart did every time your eyes landed on him, just to avoid quickly and slip back into your character – the need of seeing you again being reinforced by those exact little glimpses towards his direction, a river rushing through his head, full of confused thoughts.

Still, he reminded himself not to get too carried away. After all, you were working, captivating the audience was your job, which you did gracefully, gorgeously, charmingly. And charmed he was, in every possible sense of the word.

By the second night, Heeseung arrived earlier than he planned, the excitement to see you again swelling in his chest. Though this time he wasn’t on the front-row either alone, he still got a great seat to see you.

“I can’t believe you liked the musical that much to see it again,” Sunoo teased with a small smile.

Heeseung’s cheeks warmed instantly, a faint blush decorating it as he avoided Sunoo’s glance, before saying. “Y–yeah, I liked the musical a lot. I had to see it again,” he offered an award laugh, looking down his lap.

“Right. The musical.”

Heeseung was about to respond when the lights began to dim, the known introductory instrumental and the storyteller started to play their roles. His heart skipped a beat as his head lifted, eyes following the actors entering the stage as they started to tell the plot.

Just like before, as soon as you stepped onto the stage, his eyes glued on your beautiful figure. You looked even prettier that day, although you didn’t change anything since last night.

For a millisecond your emotional eyes drifted quickly to the crowd and Heeseung’s breath hitched, eager for you to notice him in order to confirm his delusional state, or worse, do the reverse, making him understand he was looking at the situation using too much of his romantic side.

His seat was not an easy spot to see him, and somehow that comforted his inner self. If he was right about last night, you would catch his presence, his intense, focused, admiring orbs following your every move. Otherwise, he would give up on whatever he was feeling about you.

On the other hand, Heeseung barely knew you were having a strong internal debate every time you went backstage to get out of your scene after finishing it. Heeseung had no idea you were looking for him like crazy, the best way you could. Heeseung couldn’t even imagine you, out of all the actors, would be using your highlight time, singing, to search for his mysterious presence, pretending to look at the audience as you normally did.

And you found him during “Once Upon a December” as you expected to do, since it was your moment to sing facing the crowd.

Ironically enough, the exact time you sang the line “Someone holds me safe and warm”, you locked eyes with him – caught totally out of guard, your heart started thumping in your chest too fast for your liking as you widened your eyes, then quickly recomposed yourself and fluttered your eyelids shut, concentrating on singing your emotional song.

Somehow you got captivated by his mysterious, yet gentle aura, standing out so easily among the sea of people, offering you cute and genuine reactions, showering you with admiration. Like a magnet, you kept glimpsing at him, finding it, again, adorable, how he always held eye contact, seeming a bit surprised, and then shyly drifted away. Even after finishing your solo, you couldn’t divert your gaze.

Heeseung, however, was a total mess. He noticed everything, and as an automatic response his heart was pacing fast, his throat getting dry and his mind spinning. It couldn't be a coincidence that you glanced at him that often mid-performance.

“I might be crazy,” Sunoo whispered out of the blue, using the loud sound of the singers doing their performance to stifle his voice. “But is Y/N looking at us? Or better, at you?”

Heeseung drifted his bambi eyes to Sunoo and back to the stage, frowning. “You–”

“See! She did it again!” Due to his exasperated way of saying, his whisper sounded a bit high. Some people gave him a mad grimace, he huffed an embarrassed laugh.

"She's an actress. She probably looks at a hundred people like that every night," Heeseung explained with a low voice, trying to convince himself more than Sunoo.

“Whatever you say,” Sunoo grinned at his friend before returning to watch the play.

As expected, the musical ended gracefully after a few moments of tension and the story finished to be told. Your acting skills shone through you every move, captivating the audience until the last second.

The lights dimmed once more, and the applause echoed through the theater vigorously in appreciation for that amazing show. Heeseung standed up to clap along, not even hiding he was searching for you amidst the chaos. When the cast bowed to the crowd, looking at them after straightening up to face the audience, a last and steady eye contact was held before the curtains closed, leaving Heeseung speechless, mouth slightly agape.

“Even if she looks at everyone, she had some special eyes for you tonight.” Sunoo said low near to Heeseung’s ear, feeding all his thoughts.

Heeseung left the theater more confused than he expected, trying to figure out if the connection was true, or if all the world decided to trick his mind. In any case, he had one more day to untangle the blended strings of his sentiments, and maybe, if he was lucky enough, the last show would work differently from the other two.

You were removing your makeup on your hotel room desk, Yunjin sitting on your bed finishing her own skin care routine.

“I know this sound crazy and unprofessional, but last night there was a guy on the front-row–”

“The burgundy-haired guy! He couldn’t stop looking at you!” Yunjin cut you off, saying loudly and too excitedly.

Your head snapped towards her. “Burgundy– Wait, you’ve noticed him too!?” You asked flabbergasted, before going back to cleaning your skin, removing your makeup.

“Of course I did, he was almost eating you alive,” she said, rolling her eyes as she applied her skin toner. You looked at her again, but now with a shocked face, trying to figure out the meaning behind her phrase. “But with love. In a cute way!” She clarified after noticing your exaggerated reaction.

“I was afraid I was seeing things,” you frowned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you.

“Girl, definitely not,” she smirked. “If he shows up tomorrow again, please, for the sake of everything, get his number,” she demanded seriously and pointed to you with the bottle of the cream she held.

“Oh, of course I will,” you said with a layer of sarcasm, not holding back your grin. “I’ll jump off of the stage mid-performance, hand him a paper and ask for his number.”

Yunjin giggled, nudging you with wiggly eyebrows. “Maybe that’s the grand finale we all need.”

You chuckled at her response, however, your thoughts drifted back to the said burgundy-haired guy, the memory of his intense, pierce, yet lovingly eyes glued on you sending a small heat to your cheeks as you finished your skin care.

When you woke up the next morning, your stage manager demanded the presence of everyone in the theater way earlier than you expected for some practice time.

As the night approached, you found yourself now behind the big, red curtains with the buzz from the audience serving as a background. You stood in a corner of the backstage area, counting down from ten to one as a mental exercise to calm yourself.

The anxiety you felt wasn’t the usual thrilling excitement before entering the stage, the longing to shine as the main act from the night. No, this time it was mixed with something else.

There was a big chance the nameless guy would be in the audience once more, eyes glued on you like a magnet, attracting yours instinctively, in a way you didn’t found too pleasant still; a tall, strong barrier inside your chest making it difficult to ease things while working.

The familiar voice from Jay broke you out of your thoughts, interrupting your now inhale-exhale exercise.

“So, I’ve heard you’re changing your performance for today.” He said, voice laced with playfulness and curiosity.

You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“Get the number of the ‘burgundy-haired guy’?” His eyes sparkled with a mix of tease and amusement. “Or whatever Yunjin named him. Who uses burgundy as an everyday word?”

You shut your eyes close, finally understanding his words. “Ah.” You chuckled softly. “Yeah, the burgundy-haired guy.”

Jay laughed, warm and reassuring, placing both his hands on your shoulders so you wouldn’t avoid his gaze as you opened your eyes. “Invite him backstage today.”

Once again, you offered him a confused look, but now with a strong lack of confidence among it. His quick senses noticed your doubtful expression and added with a soft voice. “Y/N, you’re a human. You’re allowed to feel your feelings. Even if it’s about someone from the audience.”

You kept looking at Jay’s gentle eyes, not even a hint of judgment behind them. “Ok,” you said in response, nodding slowly before a smile tempted to curve into your lips. “Better option than jumping on him mid-performance to ask for his number.”

Heeseung had finished watching you for the third time, doing the exact same things, singing the exact same songs, saying the exact same lines, with the exact same props and cast.

Still he experienced shivers down his spine once you sang “Once Upon a December”, a song that quickly crawled his ranking of your performances, topping all of the others. Not only that, you also seemed way confident today.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was getting flustered.

You didn’t care much about being obvious with your glances at him that night, sustaining eye contact longer than he expected. Heeseung felt that you were performing for him only, just like he watched you as if you were the only person on the stage.

You both shared an unspeakable connection in between the play – you, keeping as professional as possible; while Heeseung tried not to run away from your sharp, intriguing gaze.

Despite your initial nervousness, especially without knowing if the mysterious guy would appear again, feeding your anticipation inside your chest as you entered the stage, it took less than minutes for your eyes to find him, sitting on the side, giving you a small, shy smile.

You made no effort to contain your heartbeats increasing each time your eyes met, allowing your body to feel the wave of euphoria running through it, regardless of your hesitant thoughts about being unprofessional.

Whenever your character demonstrated happy emotions, with your lips curving into a smile, you searched for him as though you were smiling at him. Same thing when you sang some specific lines, searching from his sweet orbs following your figure already. Although the concept of the musical wasn’t necessarily romantic nor suggestive, there were some gaps you could use to your advantage, and you did.

By the end of your last performance in Seoul, you smiled brightly and big at the crowd, thanking them alongside your crewmates, bowing and waving goodbye; the known sense of accomplishment flowing into your veins, now blended with the excitement for your next move.

As you walked your way out of the stage, before the big curtains fully closed, lights already dim in the stage but bright on the seats side, you searched once more for the man who had charmed you. He was also making his way out of the theater, your heart pounding in despair as if you were about to lose him.

But like you attracted him through your intense staring, he looked back directly at you. Boldly, you offered a shy smile, biting your lips hesitantly before grabbing your manager's arm and sneakily pointing out to who you wanted to meet backstage.

Heeseung’s heart raced as he watched the ongoing scene, mind unable to wrap a full comprehension about why you and some stranger were staring at him, even scanning his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t seeing things – like maybe you were looking out for some other person. Then he noticed you pointing and the other strange nodding, as if they finally understood your intentions, almost mouthering an “oh”.

Heeseung tilted his head, swallowing hard as a slight frown formed when he saw you vanishing behind the closed curtains, leaving him to deal with his puzzled brain alone. He blinked a few times, then shrugged to himself, putting his hands in his jacket’s pocket, even shaking his head trying to recompose.

As he took the exit direction with the rest of the people, a security guard suddenly stopped him by grabbing his shoulder, saying in a low tone. "Sir, you’ve been requested backstage."

Heeseung was unsure if he heard correctly.

"Backstage? Me?" He stammered, mouth slightly open and bambi eyes full of confusion. Did he do something wrong?

The guard nodded and motioned to him. “Follow me, please.”

Heeseung legs felt like jelly following the random guard into the said backstage, a blurred motion of his surroundings as the crew passed by, some removing the props off the stage, many others wandering around, and then he recognized the actors from the musical talking in between themselves, loud laughters echoing through the small area, some with their stage clothes on.

Then he saw you.

Still wearing parts of your outfit, smiling radiantly while chatting with someone he made no effort to identify – his body perked up with the sight of you, his whole being drawn like a magnet.

He barely noticed the guard was long gone by now, leaving him standing awkwardly with mingled feelings he couldn't figure out yet. Bewilderment was a euphemism to describe it.

You seemed even prettier now than under the spotlight, shining on the stage. You seemed natural, although you still had makeup and pieces of your exaggerated royal costume on.

As you sensed the intensity of his stare, you turned, eyes locking immediately with Heeseung’s. The spark he would often feel when watching you perform ignited again, hands trembling, heart painfully resonating loud on his ears as the whole world seemed to fade out when you started to walk into his direction.

He was so in awe he didn’t notice you were hesitant, your movements appearing to be slowed down in his vision.

“Hi.” You said softly as you reached closer, biting your lower lip to suppress your excited smile, afraid of scaring the guy off.

Your gaze wandered his face, taking in his gorgeous features; adorable bambi eyes showing you an entire night sky full of stars, cheeks with a faint blush, cherry lips slightly parted. Unnecessarily attractive.

If you paid close attention, you would perceive how his ears also were painted in a light shade of red.

“Hi.” He breathed out in an astonished way, a sweet voice that made your stomach do a flip.

“I’m sorry for bringing you here so suddenly.” You started, and although you felt a small heat in your cheeks, you didn’t broke eye contact. “I– Honestly, I was afraid of losing sight of you,” you grinned shyly. “I’ve noticed you in the audience for the past two days and today as well.” You explained, after receiving nothing in response. “I wondered what got you so invested,” and then you chuckled, forcely agreeing that your choice of words was enough to clarify – for sure it wasn’t, but you decided to deal with whatever consequences later.

Heeseung blinked with the new piece of information that entered his brain, perplexed by how sincere you worded it.

“You noticed me?” He could feel his heart faltering some beats and then fastening again, totally desynchronized. Gladly he could figure out something to say, since his throat felt like closing.

“Yeah, quite hard not to when you look at me so intensely with your beauti– with your eyes,” you tried to sound chill and playful to ease things, making it less awkward. However, the way you spoke seemed a bit too flirty, not to mention you almost let a compliment slip out of your mouth, and he blushed harder, chuckling.

“I didn’t mean to stare. I mean, you’re an actress of course you’re used to that, but I recognize I might have crossed the line,” he was strong in maintaining his eyes on you, but the way you were looking through your eyelashes, blinking slowly, so prettily right in front of him, broke down his confidence – in a good, amazing way. Everything feeling like a fever dream.

You giggled, loving how you were affecting him, just as much as he was messing you. Before you could say anything, he added with a small shrug.

“I just got captivated by you.” And he went back into locking his eyes with yours.

Now it was your time to get a bit flustered, still, you held it together just before reuniting all the forces you found internally to say your next words.

“You’ve crossed no lines,” you smiled. “And I’ve got captivated by you.”

You watched how his Addam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the tension on his body loosening slightly, his timid smile spreading gradually wider as though your words unlocked something different deep within him. Somehow, you got even curious about what he could show you.

“May I ask your name?”

“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung,” he responded, offering you his hand. Your eyes followed the movement as you gave him a sheepish grin, grabbing his warm palm, the touch lingering enough to make your breath hitch.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied playfully, making him laugh, holding hands still.

His eyes turned into small crescents as he did so, his soft chuckle resonating beautifully in your ears. For some random reason, your heart started to beat faster, an interesting feeling spreading all over your chest, making you sigh.

“You were incredible up there,” Heeseung said after you both let each other’s hands go, blocking the awkwardness from establishing in between you two.

“Yeah?” You raised an eyebrow and your lips curved into a smirk, knowing very much you did amazing, but a compliment from a gorgeous man like that easily ruined your confidence and contradictory, at the same time, it flattered your ego. “Thank you.” You said, right before analyzing you and Heeseung were standing in the middle of nowhere inside the backstage of the theater, so you gently grabbed his arm and dragged him with you to a corner.

Heeseung just followed you, in trance with your beauty, with your presence, with you. He also observed that your normal voice sounded quite different from when you were on stage. Endearing, if he dared to say.

As you reached a quieter corner, you let go from his arm and leaned into the wall, curiosity filling your eyes as you bit your lower lip.

“Sorry about that,” you said with a small, awkward chuckle. “Didn’t want us to block the path,” you nodded to where you were before.

“No problem,” Heeseung replied, still processing the sudden pull, the phantom of your warm touch still tingling on his skin.

“So, besides me,” you said, crossing your arms in front of you, a hint of playfulness glinting in your eyes. “What did you think of ‘Anastasia’?”

Heeseung let out a chuckle, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lips as he took a moment to answer.

“I loved every bit of it,” his voice dropped slightly and his gaze deepened. Although the known tenderness seemed to be mingled with it, there were more layers on it. “But I have to admit. You were my main focus.”

You giggled again. Second time in just a few minutes together. Heeseung actually felt like going to heaven and back to earth with the sound of your giggles, having to physically stop himself from his hands touching you, caressing your adorable blushed cheeks or landing on your hips.

“You flatter me,” you said sheepishly, uncrossing your arms. “But I’m sure I wasn’t that distracting, Heeseung.”

His name sounded so much more beautiful in your voice – the way you said it was magnetic, with a hint of sensuality and teasing, making his heart skip several beats.

“You definitely were, Y/N.” He opted to play in your game, taking a step closer, recognizing the change of the atmosphere between you two.

You also were aware of the shift in the air, allowing your flirty, shameless part to shine brighter during the conversation. “I think I owe you a proper thank you for being such an attentive audience member.”

Heeseung’s smile slowly faded out, his eyes softening and growing more intense, half-lidded with anticipation as you reached to hold his hand.

“How do you plan on doing that?” He asked, husky voice tickling your stomach, his fingers sweetly playing with yours.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, your nervousness evident as you replied, “Would you mind waiting for me to change? It’ll take about an hour...”

“Absolutely not,” he eagerly replied, eyes lightening up with expectation. Then he lifted your hand until his lips touched it and placed a tender kiss, as an unspoken promise he would wait for you. “I’ll be right here. Take your time.”

The soft press of his lips on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth spreading directly into your heart making your pulse race.

Unwillingly, you released his brief, yet electrifying touch, offering a flustered grin and a reassuring nod while the anticipation grew within you. As you turned towards the changing room, you could feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your back, never once losing sight of you.

Yunjin met you there, more excited than you by your supposed date, to which you shut down right away saying it wasn’t a date. Despite your complaints, she kept her usual cheerful energy, helping you to undo your hairstyle as you removed your makeup, just to apply something more natural and less theatrical. You took a quick shower, as the heavy stage clothes and intense movements during the performance had left you feeling sweaty and disheveled.

Despite rushing your time, the fear that Heeseung might already be long gone was rapidly sinking in, so you hurried your steps out of the changing room when you finished your things, walking back to where you left him.

You let out a relieved sigh as you saw his figure happily talking with one of your friends, now with his back facing you.

“Oh, so you already met Jay.” You greeted them with a smile.

Heeseung averted his attention to your approach, your fresh sprayed perfume infiltrating his airways. He took his time to check you out shamelessly with his pretty bambi eyes filled with a perfect mixture of adoration and something darker.

“Yeah, he did.” Jay nodded with a smile, before leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “He seems pretty great, Y/N. Amazing choice,” and he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, walking away after saying a quick goodbye.

You felt your cheeks heating up with your friend's words, a faint blush decorating the area, to which Heeseung noticed right away.

“You look beautiful.” He said softly, loving how casual you wore yourself; loose black shirt, baggy jeans and black converse.

Your natural look would always be his favorite – he wouldn’t admit that easy, but he stalked your instagram like crazy during the first days, so he was aware of a few things about your visual. However, no one prepared his heart to face it so closely, your beauty glowing even stronger now.

“Thank you.”

He got startled when you kindly took his hand with yours, pulse racing with the sudden intimate touch. Nonetheless, he was loving every second of it, fearlessly lacing your fingers, paying close attention to your reaction. As he expected, you smiled sheepishly.

“Would it be disappointing that my suggestion is a private bar near here, so we can drink and talk?” You hesitantly asked as you started to head towards the exit.

“Of course not.” Heeseung shot you with one of his sweet, reassuring glances. “I would go anywhere with you.”

You chuckled, unconsciously squeezing his hand as you tried to run from his flirty eyes. “You shouldn’t say things you can’t carry out.” You said, teasingly.

You both reached out of the theater using the back exit, avoiding the public so you could have some privacy. Being famous had its perks, but also a lot of downs, the lack of privacy being one of them. Nonetheless, you loved each individual part of it; since the beginning of your career you built a good community. In your relationship with your fans, you constantly reinforced yours and theirs boundaries.

“You think I can’t?” He quirked an eyebrow, a sly smirk taking place on his cherry lips. You couldn’t help but focus on how Heeseung appeared even more handsome under the city’s nightlights, sharp lines being evidenced while the fresh breeze messed up his burgundy hair. “Should I prove you wrong, then?”

You got a bit taken aback with his sudden confidence, yet, you loved to see this new side of him blooming with you, allowing yourself to indulge in the game as much as you were enjoying the player.

“Well,” you began to talk. “You have three days before I head to the next city.”

Although Heeseung’s chest tightened with your unexpected reality shock, reminding him that you were a busy woman, and traveling a lot was a enormous part of your work, he decided to enjoy your presence as much as you let him to, instead of overthinking about your soon departure.

Heeseung waited for you for months, he would wait for more if he needed to.

His smile softened, still, his eyes sparkled by your subtle challenge. “Three days, huh? I’ll have to make them unforgettable then.”

You laughed, his words sending a pleasantly thrill in your core, excited with his promise.

“Isn’t that too much pressure?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I like a challenge,” Heeseung shot back, playful voice laced with something deeper, almost daring.

You giggled at his response, only now noticing he hadn’t let go of your hand since the beginning. Initially, you were apprehensive about the intimate touch, but Heeseung’s presence stirred a surprising sense of ease within you. His effortless way of breaking through your barriers made you feel comfortable enough to be yourself, dissolving your reservations with a natural grace.

You wondered if it was because he seemed genuine with his actions, since the very first night offering you such sweet glances and admiration eyes.

During your walk, you could see through his kind actions how respectful and caring he was, switching places with you so he was the one on the road side of the sidewalk, letting you walk in front of him whenever the space was narrowed by the flush of people, and mostly just by letting you to talk without interruptions.

Despite Heeseung’s ability of lowering your defenses, you still had some difficult thoughts about allowing it too much. A strong part of you were afraid of giving other people’s free access to your private life. You wished Heeseung could prove to you he was worth it.

You reached the bar quicker than you expected, your relaxed chat filling up the walk as you discovered some of Heeseung’s personal traits and that he worked in the entertainment industry, being the one behind the scenes in the marketing area for some brands. Also you find out that his favorite hobby was to play on his computer during his free time and watch random youtube videos.

Since you knew the place, you chose a recluse seat near the corners, where no one could see you both having your intimate time together.

“I have to be honest,” Heeseung said after he sat down, facing you. “I’ve been in Seoul for God’s know how long, and I have never seen this bar.”

You laughed, grabbing the menu, your hungriness screaming in your stomach.

“I love it here.” You smiled. “It’s very private and not many people are allowed to enter. Actually, if I’m not mistaken, it’s kind of an artist type of place? Like famous people and, I don’t know, CEOs come here.” You explained, Heeseung nodding to your words.

Heeseung was so thrilled with the whole experience of getting to know you better. He had always envisioned you as an idol-like figure. Your unreachable, distant persona, unallowing his mind to go further than watching you on stage.

Ironically enough, the natural side you showed so far warmed his heart even more. Your bold humor, your confident actions, how your eyes lit up when you talked about your job and interests – everything working perfectly to make it harder not to fall for you.

Seeing you out of the actress aura, in a more relaxed and genuine setting, only deepened his fascination. The charm you once threw at him increased gradually as he felt his heart fluttering with your laughter and easy talk.

You both got along like it was meant to be.

“I actually became interested in musicals because of you,” he admitted after some chatting, sipping the non-alcoholic drink he ordered.

“How come?” You asked, interested in the story, biting your pajeon.

One thing you loved about your job was to hear people’s stories of how they got interested in musicals. You’ve heard many, some because of their parents, some due to curiosity, others because of seeing it online.

However, Heeseung’s one was a bit… Different from what you expected.

“Oh,” Heeseung expressed with a shy smile, lowering his eyes to his glass, playing with the border of it. You cocked your head to the side, wondering why he went silent after your question. “I kinda…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the movement neatly noticed by you. “Fell for your aura, y’know?” He tried his best not to say he fell for you. “Your voice is amazing. And you looked so confident.”

You blinked slowly with a bright smile, loving to see his flustered self gathering all the resources in his body trying not to be so obvious, although his eyes never lied to you. Heeseung’s words and the way his body was reacting unlocked something bold inside your chest.

You were about to speak, thanking him for his appreciation or whatever your mind could come up with, but he continued.

“The first time I watched a musical was when you did Tangled,” Heeseung was doing his best not to look at your eyes, afraid of losing his inner battle and saying what he wasn’t planning to. “I was accompanying a friend that loves you.”

“Oh,” You said excitedly, a smirk on your lips. You raised your glass and clinked it with his. “Cheers to your friend then.” You laughed at his confused reaction, now finally looking at you with his blushed cheeks, unnecessarily adorable. “Thanks to him, we met. Isn’t that right?”

A darker shade of red painted his cheeks as he smiled bashfully.

“I think we can say that, yeah.” He nodded, taking a good sip of his drink, bambi eyes following your movements.

You leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with what Heeseung read as mischief, making his heart falter some beats.

“So you’re saying you’re a fan of mine now?” You teased, biting your lip shamelessly as your eyes drifted to Heeseung’s cherry ones. The alcohol in your veins facilitating not only your words to come out, but your actions to be bolder.

Heeseung got initially stunned by your not so subtle flirting, pulse increasing fast. Then he decided to get on your game, purposely wetting his lips just to watch your gaze tracking motion of it.

“Definitely a fan of yours, Y/N.” He smirked, also leaning in, your faces close enough for your breaths to slightly mingle.

“And you’re devoted too. Attentively paying attention to me…” You purred, tilting your head to the side as your eyes softened, totally switching the atmosphere between you too once more.

Something about the way Heeseung was attractive, had a good talk and seemed to be loving spending that small time with you, was stirring with you, to the point of you moving uncomfortable on your chair because the way he seemed to be so kissable right now was driving you insane.

Heeseung had his lips slightly agape and glistening due to his recent sip, hooded eyes analyzing your expression with adoration and wanting, as if he wasn’t afraid of showing off his feelings anymore. You appeared to be more interested in what he could offer than he was captivated by you, allowing Heeseung to gradually become confident.

His gaze lingered on your lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a sly smirk.

“My car is parked in the theater parking lot.” He murmured, looking around before standing up just to sit on your side – you didn’t knew if it was purposeful, but the way he positioned himself covered your figure, so no one would recognize you. “Can I take you somewhere more private?” He took the chance to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You were flabbergasted by his sudden caring gesture, albeit intrigued by the boldness in his eyes. A small breath escaped your lips as your heart started to beat fast.

“Somewhere more private?” You echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung nodded, now gently brushing his thumb on your cheek, heating the area.

“Only if you want to.” He added, his voice dropping down a tone, eyes locked into yours.

Your whole body got electrified by the amazing sensations Heeseung was making you go through.

“Take the lead, pretty boy.” You voiced out as you moved your head just enough to plant a small, tender kiss on his palm.

Your words were all it took for Heeseung to ask for the check, and didn't let you pay for your food and drink when he did so, despite your objections. You rolled your eyes, though your heart fluttered at the way he took charge so effortlessly, as if the thought of you paying for that night never crossed his mind.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to be around the theater still. Is it ok for me to go get my car and then I pick you up here?” As if he hadn’t been a gentleman enough throughout the night, he questioned before you could stand up, taking your privacy into consideration for his decisions.

“Sounds great.” You answered, forcing your body not to overreact and your voice to sound as normal as you could. “But how do I know you won’t leave me hanging?” You questioned cheekily, though there was a hint of insecurity in your voice. After all, Heeseung could be the most captivating man in the world, but you had only known him for a few hours.

“You have to trust me,” he said, throwing you a quick cocky wink paired with a smirk as he made his way out of the bar, longing his gaze on you before disappearing from the main door.

Heeseung had no idea how those simple words and gestures affected you. Crossing your legs did little to calm the rush of feelings surging through your core.

You sighed, grabbing your phone to message Yunjin about the change of plans. She was way more excited than you, making you laugh as you typed you probably wouldn’t sleep at the hotel with her that night.

Anyway, you were also making sure someone in your circle of friends knew your whereabouts. Again, being famous had its downs, and dealing with creepy people was on the list as well.

You waited sitting for a few minutes before going outside, since you didn’t wanted Heeseung to make the effort of turning off his car to announce he was waiting for you. Gladly, there were a small number of people outside, and you stood near to the security guard just in case.

You spotted a black car pulling up in front of where you were standing after a while, the window rolling down revealing Heeseung on the driver’s seat with a small smile.

“Hey,” your lips curved into a relieved smile and you opened the door to enter the car.

Heeseung felt bad for being unable to do that for you since he had stopped in a traffic place where he couldn’t stop for too long. Instantly you sent your live location to Yunjin, just to be safe.

“I know I was the one who brought up finding a more private place,” he started, a bit uncertain. “But do you have any place in mind?”

His question made you think for a while. Your hotel was out of question, since Yunjin was sleeping there too.

“I don’t wanna take you to my place right away.” He added quickly. “Don’t get me wrong. I just don’t feel you would be as comfortable there…” He trailed off, glancing at you for a millisecond.

“Because you know your place better than me.” You completed, quirking an eyebrow at him with a smirk tugging the corner of your lips.

“Exactly.”

“Are you a stalker or just a perfect gentleman?” You asked with curiosity and playfulness.

Heeseung let out a hearty, loud laugh, filling up the inside of his car as he ignored how his stomach did a flip about being a perfect gentleman in your eyes.

“Neither, I hope.” He chuckled, looking at you warmly when he stopped in one red light.

You smiled, enjoying how at ease you became around him, the blended seductive and playful atmosphere around you two building up the ideal scenery for you to fall for Heeseung.

On the other hand, Heeseung wasn’t different. Slightly afraid of scaring you or making you uncomfortable, but still, loving the way you expressed yourself so vividly, making him laugh every second.

“So… We’re going…?” He sweetly asked after your silence, waiting for your suggestion.

What Heeseung didn’t expect was to see your whole face lit up with seductive playfulness, the anticipation building up before you spoke, your velvety, low voice sending signals straight to his core, as your eyes drenched him in lust.

“Anywhere we can have a bed, Heeseung.”

Heeseung didn’t let you pay for the chosen hotel room as well, to which your body reacted instantly as the heat increased, your desire dripping out your eyes as you devoured him shamelessly.

His impeccable manners were almost too good to be true, being such a gentleman during the night, leading the way, but only after your consent, after asking you, after you taking the decisions. He listened to your wants and found a solution easily, a characteristic you found extremely attractive.

It was incredibly refreshing to find a man like him, so devoted to making you feel like a queen, allowing you to simply relax and enjoy yourself without you having to ask for it.

Now, however, you needed him to solve another problem, the one in which your arousal had left your panties dampened and you restless.

Seeing his charismatic interaction with the worker as nonchalantly doing the check-in, the smile after thanking them, the skilful hands grabbing his wallet, his eyes switching from tenderness to raw desire when landing them on you. Heeseung was clearly struggling to contain his eagerness to take you to an intimate setting as soon as possible. His restraintment was driving you wild, intensifying your anticipation.

How were you being so affected by that? Also, you weren’t one to hook up on your first meeting – not even calling it a date, since it was a rushed last minute type of situation.

Then you remembered. Heeseung had built up the perfect atmosphere for you both since the very first day you saw him.

His beaming expression, eyes glued on you, showing genuine enchantment by your performance and now, you understood, by your beauty as well. You felt more than flattered to charm someone so hot and attentive as him.

His easy going personality and the way he acted like a true man, demonstrating to genuinely care about you, made a perfect blend of your ideal type – you didn’t even knew you had one until now.

As soon as you entered the elevator, it took one simple glance from Heeseung for you to attach your lips on his, shivering at the sweet taste of his mouth as your hands searched for support on his shoulders.

He got taken aback by your sudden decision, but didn’t hesitate to reciprocate your touch, eager for more since day one. Oh, he was in heaven by the way you were falling apart right in front of his eyes, because he, himself, was drowning in your presence since the beginning.

His mannerism around you was flawless, how he positioned his hands respectfully on your waist instead of lower, making you smirk in between the rushed kiss, totally contradictory to how his tongue passionately searched for yours to deepen the touch.

There were no words being spoken at that moment, but so much was being vocalized through his hitched breath and your soft moans, the ones that made Heeseung’s dick twitch in his pants.

“Fuck,” he groaned and threw his head back when you deattached your mouth just to kiss other parts of his exposed skin.

In no moment you wondered if it was a set up, because if so, Heeseung was a better actor than you. There was no way he was faking his reactions while your lips sucked the flesh of his neck vigorously, as if your life depended on it, not even caring about marking the area as you did so.

Both of you shared the same thinking: the door needs to open soon, otherwise the elevator cameras would be filming something very intimate.

Heeseung went back to kissing you, already addicted to your taste, sucking your tongue and lip fervently just to hear your sounds once again. You scratched his nape with your fingernails when you finally heard the sound of the door opening, both of you giggling in between the kiss since none of you decided to move away, stumbling your steps until you reached the room door.

Heeseung positioned your back against the wall just to skilfully unlock the entrance, pushing you against the door to open and closing it back with his feet.

You took no time to appreciate the beauty of the room, eagerly waiting for the moment the back of your knee would hit the bed and you would finally have Heeseung hovering you the way you wished the most.

You removed Heeseung’s jacket and tossed it at some random place on the floor before he maneuvered your body when you reached the soft mattress, so you could lay comfortably – his strong grip on your thigh and hip sending jolts of excitement to your core as you gasped for air, but never once completely breaking the contact of his sultry, hot mouth against yours.

He wasted no second to position himself over you, the weight of his body pressing yours in an electrifying way, his lips only backing away to place rough kisses on your neck, nibbling your ear lobe as his fingers infiltrated your shirt to touch the bare skin of your stomach.

Your body reacted instantly with the amount of stimulus, arching into him, yearning more and more of his heated hands and mouth working wonders on you. Instinctively, your fingers tugged his beautiful strands of hair while pulling him down, closer, inciting Heeseung to continue his assault on your sensitive flesh.

However, as your impatience grew, so did your desire.

“Heeseung…” You breathed out, panties already ruined by how wet you were.

“Hm?” He murmured, trailing kisses until he reached your mouth again, his hands still heating the area of your waist as he caressed it painfully slowly, giving you a rush of chills.

You kissed him back, then pushed him away by pulling his hair, searching for his now darkened eyes, filled with lust and a small hint of the usual tenderness towards you. You watched how his gaze switched between your lips, your eyes and other areas of your face, as if he was memorizing every feature of yours to keep them as a personal picture.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” you whispered with your voice rich with desire, your heavy breaths mingling with Heeseung’s in an intimate way you didn’t expect to feel with him so easily.

He chuckled at himself, blinking slowly as he bit his lower lip, hooded eyelids demonstrating how far gone for you he already was, lost in his pleasure.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, planting a sweet kiss on each of your cheeks. “You just feel too good.”

And he wasn’t lying.

The way your body reacted to all of his touches so far was driving him instantly to hell and back to earth, his own skin tingling with a hunger he never felt before just by hearing your small, beautiful sounds. Heeseung wished to stop time and have you like that for the rest of his life, even if it sounded exaggerated and premature. He developed feelings for you long enough to have his mind working in that way, yearning for every bit of you, with his sharp gaze catching all of your reactions as he always did.

“I want to enjoy every second I have with you.” Heeseung admitted genuinely. You noticed the top of his ears turning into a cute shade of red.

“You can do that,” you reassured, downing your hands from his hair to his shoulders and then to his strong arms, almost moaning after feeling them tensing under your touch. “But please,” you pleaded firmly with a low voice, squeezing his biceps. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

With a small nod, a sly grin and a brief peck on your lips, Heeseung sat on his knees, the hands once under your shirt just brushing slightly the area, glided slowly over your skin as he moved to undress the fabric off of your body.

He searched for your gaze before moving forward. “Are you sure about that?” He had stopped himself mid-action for your consentment, and you couldn’t help but smile, finding adorable his respectfulness with you, despite the obvious shared intense, almost tangible, desire.

“Totally.”

After your word he finally removed your shirt, leaving your upper body covered only with your bra.

You shivered under his lascivious gaze, devouring you shamelessly with a satisfied smirk. He looked drunk as he approached again, brushing his lips on your collarbone and then near your breasts, playing with it over the clothing piece teasingly, looking up at you with his big bambi eyes showing a faux innocence.

The fresh contact of his mouth and tongue against new parts of your body made you arch your back again, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation. You felt his hands working its way to free your boobs and when he finally did, you moaned in relief.

“Fuck,” he groaned with a small, attractive frown, as if he was mad with your beauty. “You look perfect.”

You fluttered your eyes open, catching a sight of how dedicated Heeseung was sucking your hardened nipple while his hand massaged the other, eventually switching sides to give both equal treatment, and you also caught him already looking at you, savoring each of your reactions.

Little did you know that while tasting you, he was also engraving into his memory those raw, genuine expressions, so different from the ones he had seen when you were on stage, acting.

You managed to reach for the hem of his beige shirt, teasing to slide them off. He noticed right away your attempt and quickly helped you by sitting on his knees and undressing himself, revealing to your hungry eyes his slightly tanned torso, his muscles tensing as he moved to toss the clothing piece to the ground.

Heeseung got shy under your thirsty gaze, but how could you look at him any other way? His body seemed flawless under the room’s dim light, broad shoulders, biceps and chest with just the right amount of muscles. Not to mention the silver chain necklace adorning his neck, which you found particularly attractive, and his gorgeously messy hair.

“You’re so fucking hot, Heeseung.” You murmured with sincerity, your fingers trailing over his arms, feeling the firm texture beneath your touch.

The room appeared to shrink, the air getting thicker as your respiration accelerated with the view. The anticipation to feel all those parts pressing flush against yours grew, a thrill of excitement running throughout your body straight to your cunt.

Heeseung acted out of instinct after your praise, as if upon realizing your desire mirrored his own, the carefulness, the gentleness he was cherishing to give you during the night instantly vanished just to be replaced by the raw yearning of being inside you.

Of course he would still listen to your demands, there was a vivid part of him willing to give you the affection you deserved. However, by the way you cheekily smiled and how your gaze sharpened after him yanking his own jeans and then yours, he knew how you wanted it to happen.

Heeseung brushed his painfully hardened dick on your thigh as he reached for your mouth, kissing you fervently while one of his hands explored your clothed pussy. He moaned against your lips when you purposely slightly moved your leg to grace his cock with a bit more of friction, as a way of thanking him for rubbing your pulsing clit over your panties.

It was a shared intimate touch covering the visceral need of fucking you for good, his inner battle going on about how to treat you, since your non-verbal answer – lustful eyes and smile – didn’t meant much to him to be certain within his decision.

“Heeseung,” you moaned, grinding against the skilful fingers making circles on your clit, the fabric preventing you from feeling them directly on your pussy, making you annoyed. “I want you, stop teasing me.” You demanded, and instantly Heeseung moved his head to the curve of your neck, gently kissing it while pushing your panties to the side to start fingering you.

He collected a bit of your arousal on your slick folds, literally moaning just by the feeling of his digits sliding with ease on your pussy, pressing your entrance with one and then two, loving to hear your beautiful whimpers.

Heeseung supported himself with one arm just to watch your pleasant frown, your mouth slightly agape, your breath hitching, eyes fluttered shut.

“You look so fucking beautiful right now,” he admitted in a low, husky tone, sending shivers to your spine.

You opened your eyes, a sly smile adorning your lips as you said. “Imagine how beautiful I’ll be with your cock instead of your finger, then.”

Heeseung’s dick twitched against your thigh with your words. You observed his eyes darkening even more, taking in the challenge as his life depended on it, barely giving you time to process him removing all the clothing pieces from both of you, offering the gorgeous view of his reddened and extremely hard shaft, tip dripping precum.

Your mouth watered, but you ignored your sudden urge of sucking him, since your biggest want was to have that dick inside of you as soon as possible.

You tracked his movements with your eyes, a low groan escaping from your throat as you watched Heeseung put on the condom and pump his length a few times. The vein of his arm popped due to the motion, making you wonder how hot he would look desperately touching himself, a thought you opted to keep to yourself for now.

“I hope you don’t hold back.” You provoked, quivering beneath his heated body as he positioned himself to enter you, supporting himself with one arm as your hands found its comfort on his shoulders.

Heeseung looked at you with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

His words only fueled the fire between you, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he aligned himself perfectly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“You’ve set the pace,” he murmured, low voice dripping with desire. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled as a response to his dirty and teasing words, a soft moan escaping your lips as he started to fill you up so perfectly. But Heeseung gave you no time to savor it properly, beginning to thrust deep and hard, yet agonizingly slow, as if he was messing with you right after your explicit request. The playful glint in his eyes made it clear how delighted he was by setting the rhythm, toying your pussy just how he wanted, enjoying a bit too much the show of the changes in your facial expressions.

“You feel so fucking good,” Heeseung sighed with a pleasant frown.

Your walls clenching around his sensitive dick was driving him insane, the euphoria to fuck you harder and faster rising in his chest, albeit he did his best to control it because he had two goals that night. First, to experience you in every possible way, and second, to make sure you never forgot just how incredible he could be at it.

You wanted to curse Heeseung’s pace, but it would be a lie to say you weren’t enjoying every second of his slowness, how it allowed you to feel each inch of his cock deliciously sliding inside you, delaying your run towards your relief.

Heeseung attached his lips on yours while keeping the deliberated grind, a passionate kiss mingled with your soft moans and hitched breaths.

There was something about the way he was treating your body with such devotion, taking his sweet time to taste your mouth while feeling your pussy sliding on his length, gradually learning exactly how to satisfy you.

His hands caressed your skin with affection, sensing it shivering under his contact, then he shot you a playful look, repositioning himself on his knees as he grabbed a pillow to place it under your waist, opening and slightly lifting your legs, in a way to give him easy and full access to hit you deeper.

You whimpered by the instant amazing feeling of Heeseung finding your g-spot right away, his face lighting up with the new information you just gave him without uttering a single word besides his name within moans.

“F–fuck, Heeseung–” Your broken voice and the desperation in your eyes served as the final push for Heeseung to lose control and speed his thrusts, your knuckles turning white with your strong grip on the sheets.

You let out a sequence of whimpers, groans, moans, whatever sounds you were able to make, entirely lost in your lustful pleasure, your whole body shaking on the bed as Heeseung frantically and intensely moved his hips.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d make your days unforgettable,” Heeseung’s husky, confident voice triggered a new wave of ecstasy throughout you.

You winced underneath him, fully unable to say cohesive words. Your mouth fell open, eyes rolled back right before fluttering shut within a frown. The lewd slaps sounds of him pounding roughly on your pussy making you completely dizzy, his urgent rhythm driving you close to the edge.

Heeseung’s breathing was heavy and erratic, filling the room together with your loud moans as he pushed you near to the brink of release, his hands squeezing whatever part of your legs he touched, your own hips unconsciously grinding to meet his rhythm.

The knot on your stomach tightened gradually, and Heeseung’s pace became unsteady. The small piece of your mind that still worked correctly deduced Heeseung was just as close as you to his own climax, so you tightened your walls purposely and opened your eyes just in the right time to catch a glimpse of Heeseung throwing back his head, consumed by his pleasure; his flushed neck glistening in sweat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he moaned, the fucking chain necklace dangling.

“Hee– close–” You tried to warn, you really did. But the whole moment got you overwhelmed in the bestest way possible. You barely had strength to think, let alone talk.

Heeseung snapped out of his blurry bliss with your voice echoing in his ears. His eyes searched for you right away, instantly moaning at the view of you, perfectly messy, falling apart, just for him to see.

He leaned forward, decreasing the distance between your torsos. Without a second thought, your hands roamed over his firm, strong arms until you reached his nape, pulling him into a sloppy kiss, as though your body naturally gravitated towards him, like a magnet.

Neither of you could keep on the kiss, Heeseung’s head falling besides yours as your fingernails scratched his back, the urge of your so close orgasm making you desperate.

“Please–” You pleaded without much thinking, legs evolving Heeseung’s waist trying to help his erratic movements.

“Come for me, yeah?” He murmured against your ear, holding back his own release just to feel your walls clenching him while achieving your orgasm. “Come for me like a good girl.”

And you did. Screaming his name, digging your nails on his skin, waving your body as the surge of your breathtaking climax rushed over it.

You felt Heeseung’s dick throbbing right before he filled up the condom with his release together with the beautifulest moan of the night, the one where he said your name lasciviously, hoarse and intimate in your ear.

Heeseung’s exhausted body collapsed on yours, his sweaty skin clinging to you and yet you gave no care. Your focus was on catching your breath, trying to ground yourself with your sight still hazy from the intensity of your climax.

“Holy shit,” you managed to whisper as you kept panting.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung immediately replied, a small hint of guilt hidden in his husky voice.

“For giving me the best orgasm of my life?” You breathed out, chuckling. The post-orgasm high made you feel like jelly.

He laughed. The sound warming your chest and also helping you to calm down quickly.

“Did I hurt you?” Heeseung questioned with concern, looking at you.

You shook your head in response and he smiled. Your hooded eyes followed Heeseung’s gorgeous figure, going quickly to the bathroom to discard the condom and back to the bed, laying down next to you.

“I wasn’t planning on going that hard with you at first, but–”

“Yes, you were.” You interrupted with a playful smile. “And I’m glad you did. It was amazing, Heeseung,” the compliment slipped out of your mouth with ease as you caressed his hair and then his face.

Heeseung let out what sounded like a relieved sigh, as he pressed a peck on your cheek, then the corner of your lips before sucking your lower lip and kissing you properly.

“It was my pleasure, Y/N.” He whispered against your mouth, kissing you again with a sweetness that seemed impossible after what just happened, but you knew it was real, because he offered you the same tenderness since day one through his eyes.

You found yourself snuggling on his chest and he hugged you warmly. There was something in Heeseung's acts that exhaled intimacy in a way it scared you, knowing deep down if he kept treating you like that, you would inevitably grow attached to his presence.

You got lost in your thoughts for a while, torn in between the warmth of his body touching you with care and the sinking feeling of his inevitable departure. Although Heeseung seemed to be an amazing man, nothing would stop him from simply leaving, especially when there was no mention of commitment from any of you or whatsoever.

Nonetheless, Heeseung's connection with you appeared to grow stronger each second you spent together, because his first words after the long silence were “Can I get your number?”

You lifted your head from his torso, a bit flabbergasted by his sudden, unexpected question. You had to blink a few times and watch his bambi eyes show you curiosity with your reaction to know he wasn’t messing around.

“Sure. If you promise not to leak it out.” The only answer he offered you was his pinky for a pinky promise, to which you took in with a serious face. “You can’t break it, yeah?” And he laughed.

“Cross my heart, I won’t.”

The following three days felt like something in between a k-drama and a fever dream – too perfect to feel real.

Heeseung had work during the mornings and the afternoons, meaning he couldn’t be with you the whole day – unwillingly, of course. To which you thought it was great, since it allowed you to hang out with Yunjin and Jay, and also to concentrate on your job, rehearsing for the next performances alongside your castmates, warming up your vocals with your teacher, re-reading the lines just in case.

However, the anticipation tightened in your stomach with every buzz of your phone with a notification, heart racing reading Heeseung’s name on the screen.

“I wanna see you soon.” “Can’t wait for tonight.” “Missing your pretty face, ngl.”

His simple texts did no good to help your inner battle, nor his perfect mannerism for caring about your health, your voice, your sleeping, the small things that sometimes neither you cared that much.

The fear of getting attached extremely fast to someone and having your heart broken was almost suffocating, and somehow Heeseung managed to wipe your thoughts away within every encounter.

There weren’t too many after the night you spent together, but each had a distinctive situation that deepened your connection.

Monday, he picked you up at your hotel after work for a small dinner at his favorite restaurant. You found yourself thirsting over his extremely good looking figure when he showed up in a simple, yet mesmerizing black button-down shirt with the first three buttons undone revealing a hint of his tanned skin beneath, and his usual heart-melting smile.

“Ready for tonight?” He asked you with a beaming face that filled your heart with warmth and a cocky grin that later on, led you to ride his dick until your legs burned after you both reached the chosen hotel for the night.

You were nothing but astonished with how deeply invested you got in Heeseung, longing for his presence every minute. The chemistry between you both was electric, the sexual tension almost palpable pairing in the air, blended perfectly with the easygoing atmosphere you always shared. Heeseung fulfilled your desires easily, as though he was reading his favorite book – you – knowing every line by heart.

The second time you met was in the middle the following day, when he decided to spend his lunch hour with you, sharing a meal as you casually chatted about everything. Heeseung had a comforting way of listening to you with softened and attentive eyes, nodding along, occasionally adding his own point of view with a relaxed charm. Not to mention how smart he sounded as he talked with his soft tone and how beautiful his laughter sounded when he genuinely enjoyed a joke.

“I didn’t know you enjoyed cooking that much,” he remarked at some point, his eyes lightening up after you shared your hobby of experimenting out new foods just to get their recipes and try doing it by yourself in your kitchen every once and a while during your free time.

You had no idea connections could be developed so quickly with someone as you did with Heeseung, how your energies and personalities complemented in a way that made every interaction feel effortless, as if words didn’t needed to be fully spoken in order to understand each other.

Later the same day, Heeseung met you at night again. He timidly admitted he hadn’t prepared much for the evening, but ended up making you the happiest woman on the earth by driving you both to a dinosaur museum exhibition after learning your fascination with them.

As you explored the exhibit, your eyes sparkled with excitement, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile at your enthusiasm. You animatedly explained the different species ignoring completely the small text next to every skeleton – Heeseung doing the same, since listening to your voice sounded way more interesting than reading.

Your tone raised with joy as you pointed out the massive skeleton of the stegosaurus, eyes gleaming with love, your big smile making Heeseung’s heart falter some beats.

“You look so cute,” Heeseung said, chuckling softly, his hands hidden in his jacket’s pocket while tenderly watching you bouncing on your feet.

You beamed back at him. “It’s so interesting and cool to imagine those big boys walking on earth before us. Like, we are not literally, but somehow stepping on places they once stepped too.”

Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your glowing figure and at that moment, he recognized. He fell in love with you.

Not only for the talented actress on the stage, the amazing singer with an angelic voice, the famous performer who loved her fans with her whole heart.

Heeseung fell mainly for the genuine, happy, confident and warm woman in front of him. The one who easily sent chills through his spine just for laughing at his stupid jokes. The one who made the air thicker with her strong presence, just to stumble on her own legs and chuckle at it. The one who knew what she wanted and how she wanted. The one who secretly shared she was good at painting and handicrafts.

He could spend nights in hotel rooms hearing your moans and pants, feeling your intimate touches, kissing you mouth and any other place on your body he wanted to, but nothing compared to the fulfillment feeling spreading inside his chest when seeing you so pure, with raw emotions like that.

That night ended up like a date. He left you at your hotel and went home after kissing you slowly and tenderly at the entrance of the building, wishing you a good night's sleep and for you to take care.

It was your last day in Seoul before heading to the next city with the musical, and the bittersweet feeling weighed heavily on your heart. You were struggling with the drowning sentiment of leaving Heeseung behind, the idea of not knowing when, or even if he wanted to keep on seeing you made the lump in your throat hard to swallow.

Your insecurities grew heavier each second before the encounter. You hoped for Heeseung to come up with the sweet sorrow and necessary conversation first, since your messy, anxious thoughts did nothing to help you go through it without assuming the worst.

“Hi, pretty.” His sudden appearance startled you, drawing your gaze from the distant random point on the street you were staring at. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, his hands finding their comfort place on your waist, grounding you.

A smile spreads across your face, eyes brightening up with relief.

“Hi.” You greeted back, leaning to kiss him on the lips, pouring all the affection you felt into that simple gesture.

You wished Heeseung could sense how deep you were falling for him, quickly becoming a vital part of your daily life in such a small amount of time.

“Are you okay?” He asked with concern, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You seemed a bit oblivious.”

You shook your head, not only as a response to his question but to wipe away your confused thoughts.

“I’m better now.” You said, which wasn’t a lie.

“Great,” Heeseung whispered with a smile against your head before kissing the top of it and then held your hand to walk you to his car. “I’ve prepared something different for today.” He said with a cheekily grin, the playful glint on his gaze making you squint your eyes, suspicious. He laughed at your reaction, then you quirked an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, curiosity instantly replacing your melancholic inner thoughts.

“I hope you like it.” He kissed the back of your hand before opening the car door for you to enter.

The drive was calm, Heeseung eased your mind without even noticing he did. Just the smell of his cologne and his warm touches on your thigh whenever he stopped at a red light, and the habitual chatting that got you invested with ease worked perfectly to sooth you.

At some point Heeseung nonchalantly revealed he was applying to switch to work remotely, and you genuinely cheered since for the last few days he complained about the amount of hours he had to drive, and the home-office modality helped him to have more free time.

His own information faded out by himself in the following conversation as he changed topics, you barely noticed his sly expression whenever he glimpsed at your yapping figure, gesturing about how annoyed you felt when you had to do group work during your college.

“What’s that?” Your eyes sparkled with the colorful atmosphere you were approaching, your whole body perking up as you watched some stalls passing by the window as Heeseung searched for a place to park.

Heeseung chuckled, drifting his eyes between the road and you, but not answering your question.

Then the realization hits. You shot Heeseung with one of your bright smiles, that got him almost giggling just by seeing it.

“You’re insane.”

“I thought it could be a good place for you to learn some recipes.”

And just like that, you fell even harder for him.

Heeseung took you to a cozy outdoor market filled with food stalls, a few street foods trucks and local artisans. The atmosphere was lively, with music playing in the background and laughter echoing around you.

As you stepped out of the car with his help, the scents of diverse foods flooded your airways and you almost groaned with pleasure, your stomach growling with hunger as your mouth watered.

Heeseung held your hand the whole time you wandered from stall to stall, not even knowing where to start, but sampling everything from savory snacks to sweet treats, your senses dancing with the flavors and scents, doing some random love shots with Heeseung.

He didn’t complained a second about the constant walking. To watch you lose yourself while tasting things, making pleasant frowns and doing little dances whenever you liked something, paid back any sore he would have to deal with on the next day.

Some people recognized you, asking for a picture to which you politely declined, and Heeseung instantly gave you a confused look, since you usually made time to give them a little attention.

You searched for a free table for you both to sit, and as you stared at the three delicious small dishes in front of you not knowing which one to prove first, Heeseung spoke up.

“Isn’t that your favorite?” And then he pointed to the tteokbokki, after reading your indecisive frown, biting his own food. “Start with this one.”

You looked up at him with shock, then your gaze softened. It was Heeseung after all, the man who paid attention to every detail of you. However, your still pulse increased, your cheeks heating.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice broke the silence after a while again, and you nodded. “Is there a reason for you to refuse to take pictures with your fans today?”

The question sounded curious, genuine at it most, free from the weight of any judgments. Heeseung was trying to understand your decision rather than impose his opinion on it.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” you explained softly, wiping your mouth with a napkin.

He tilted his head to the side, brows furrowing. “How does that make me uncomfortable?”

You shrugged, taking a bite of your corn dog before answering. “I don’t know. People who hang out with me that aren’t from my area often don't feel comfortable whenever I stop to talk to my fans.”

Heeseung raised his eyebrows, a bit taken aback by the revelation. Of course people had their rights of being uncomfortable with certain situations, however, being friends with you meant knowing your personality and how much you enjoyed those small interactions. So it sounded a bit odd to hear you say that.

“Well, I don’t mind at all.” He said with a gentle smile. “Actually, it’s sweet to see you interacting with them.”

Your lips curved into a genuine smile at Heeseung’s reassuring words, especially because at some point he was a fan of yours, so to hear his mind on that conversation hit slightly deeper.

“Thanks, it means a lot.” You mumbled. “But if you ever feel awkwardly left out–

“No.” He shushed you with a portion of his food, shoving into your mouth with a playful laugh, making you roll your eyes and giggle.

The rest of the night went as comfortably as possible, filled with laughter and playful teasing moments. The thought of your departure on the next day haunted both of you, but you managed to brush away whenever your eyes met, the atmosphere softening again.

After you finished eating and drinking, Heeseung guided you to a quiet, secluded spot near the market. It was a small lake in the middle of a park, where a few other couples shared intimate affection as well.

Heeseung wrapped his arms around you from behind as you held on the railing overlooking the water. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm and soothing embrace caused a heavy sigh to escape your lips, and tears began to sting the corner of your eyes.

“You know, it's always good to come back home.” You murmured, voice tinged with nostalgia while you admired the peaceful view. Gently resting your back on Heeseung’s chest, you added. “And it's always bittersweet when I have to leave.” Your voice got stuck in your throat, heart pounding in uncertainty for your following days. “It became so much harder to leave now, Heeseung.” You admitted with a trembling voice, the tears quietly slipping down your cheeks

You felt Heeseung’s sweet lips touching your neck to place a gentle kiss before he turned you to face him. Kind hands caressing your face, cozy eyes eveloping your words with warmth and understanding. You felt loved. And it was hurting so much.

Heeseung cleaned your tears with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your eyelids afterward.

“We can find a way,” he whispered, his own voice failing to stay steady. “I’m too attached to you at this point.” He admitted with a shy smile. “I know I said I’d make your days unforgettable, but now I’m the one who is unable to forget you. And I don’t want to even try forgetting you.”

A wave of relief rushed your body, happy for being on the same page, glad that Heeseung listened to you, overjoyed he shared similar feelings. You sobbed, snuggling closer to his body in order to feel him more, burying your face on his neck, the scent making you cry even harder.

Heeseung hugged you tightly, yet, gently, his arms involving you in a fond, safe bubble.

“I can visit you during my free time,” he said to reassure you.

“I’ll come to visit you too.” Your voice came out muffled due to your position, so you reluctantly pulled away from his embrace to search for his eyes. They were red, as if he was holding back his own tears. “I mean, I don’t live too far from here, the problem is my work–”

Heeseung silenced you by attaching his lips on yours, not wanting to hear your “but’s” and worries at the moment. He wanted to envision a good future for both of you, and also he was taking advantage to kiss you once more.

The shared touch was laced with an anticipated longing, slow and bittersweet, still full of affection. Your breath hitched while mingling with the soft sounds of contentment, hands exploring each other’s bodies, cherishing every inch before the inevitable departure of yours.

“I’m afraid you won’t get used to my work,” you whispered, relieving one of your biggest insecurities when Heeseung broke the contact to catch his breath.

“What do you mean?” He asked, slightly breathless, mind hazy from your kiss. God, he really wished you both managed a way to get back together, if not he would go insane without your sweet lips.

“It’s a demanding job, as you know.” You explained, playing with his ear lobe. Heeseung closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “I’m always traveling, I’m always going to places, constantly on the move… Even visiting can be difficult.”

“I know,” he replied softly, still not exactly understanding your full point. Yes, he would miss you, but he was sure it could be managed.

Despite, from the start he knew you were a busy woman, barely having time to yourself as you told him a few times. And he was willing to adjust some things in his life if that meant having you by his side.

Heeseung didn’t said anything more, making you wonder. Would he back off after all of that? Or that meant he was fully devoted?

“And it doesn’t bother you?” You asked.

“No,” he replied sincerely, opening his eyes just to lock them onto yours, as he brushed a little strand of hair from your face before he cupped one of your cheeks. “It’ll not. If you promise you’ll always come back to me.”

And you would. After all, by the end of the day, all you could see was his eyes only.

Heeseung grew attached to watch you. Not only when owning the stage and captivating the audience with your talented acting skills, but in any other moment as well.

His eyes followed your every move, from the moment you frowned while waking up to the moment you fell on his arms, panting after him fucking you hard.

Yeah, you both managed ways of getting back together, with his now remote work, traveling around with you became easy. He missed his friends every once, and that led you both to constantly go back to Seoul and spend some days visiting, especially to see Jake and Sunoo, who freaked out when he discovered – through instagram! – his friends were dating one of his biggest inspirations.

Now, in your brand new purchased shared apartment, Heeseung eyes tracked you wetting your lips while humming the melody of your upcoming musical, while doing some work on your computer. It was a routine he definitely could get used to.

And as always, you felt the sweet weight of his gaze, smiling even before searching for him.

“What?” you asked, laughing at how Heeseung positioned himself beside you on the couch; his cheek resting on his hand, elbow propped on the armrest, as he shot you a lovestruck expression – soft smile and tender eyes.

“I love you.”

Months ago, those words would have taken you by surprise.

You remember vividly how flustered you became, heart racing, stuttering on your own words, unable to cohesively say anything back. Heeseung joked about how an amazing actress managed to lose composure and not talk like that, and after you slapped his shoulder playfully, you kissed him passionately, mumbling what could have been a ‘I love you too’.

This time it didn’t surprise you, still, left you momentarily speechless. You would never get used to the electrifying wave washing over your body whenever you heard Heeseung declaring his love for you.

Just like you always did, you felt the heat rising to your cheeks under his intense gaze. Closing your computer, you leaned closer, settling yourself comfortably on his lap.

“I love you too, Hee,” you replied softly and sincerely.

You smiled, before kissing him.

Heeseung’s embrace was your heaven. Heeseung’s lips were your hell. And in between that, he kept his eyes on you. Always.

#heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #heegyukeluv reqs #heegyukeluv works

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theglassofmiddleearth · 21 days ago

Text

Imagine Reader in the 141 who just wants to get food and sleep.

Masterlist

Reader! only ended up in the military because the recruiters said that there would be free food and lodging. Her parents had decided to travel the world thanks to their early retirement. They initially wanted to keep the house for Reader! to live in but she decided instead to rent out the house. This way, she would get passive income AND didn't have to worry too much about the upkeep of the house! (Her neighbours would keep an eye on the tenants)

Reader! really just joined because she needed something to do instead of a regular 9-5 desk job. Little did she know, being in the military had a LOT more paperwork than her old job. (She sometimes bribes Soap to do it for her. Price also knows. They both have very different hand writing..)

Reader! has always been quite slippery, cunning even. (Somehow still clumsy though) Flying through her training and earning her call sign Camera Guy on her first mission, she was assigned to a special operations task force.

People who don't know the story think, 'Camera Guy' is some pervert dude or something. Reader hears a lot of people (unknowingly) chatting about her. They either think she has pictures of naked people or think she photographs models. Of course they have no idea it's a woman. (Assholes.)

Reader was sent in as a spy to scout out a target. She needed to confirm that said target was the new crime lord that was smuggling American artillery. To do this, she needed to capture some sort of illegal or suspicious activity.

Long story short, she got trapped between a gang fight between the target and the rival gang. Somehow stayed alive and, filming the whole thing behind the bar. She was the only one who came out unscathed within the bar. The rest of the task force rushed in during the confusion, giving the reader time to subdue the target and capture him. (Used an empty bottle to knock him unconscious)

Mission was such a success Laswell heard about it and had Reader transferred to the 141 because the rest of the task force keeps ‘accidently’ breaking their body cams.

141 not realising Reader is a woman until they see her.

‘Yer a lady?’ Soaps blue eyes are wide and confused.

‘Yep’ Reader shrugs, ready to be shown to her new room so she can take a damn nap.

‘But Camera Guy…..’ Gaz mumbled, blinking confusedly.

The silent muscle dude just gave a grunt, not particularly interested.

‘I never said it was a man.’ Price shrugged, ‘Welcome to the 141, you're bunking in the room next to Ghost.' Reader assumes it's the man with a ghost mask over his balaclava.

‘Yes Captain.’ Reader nods, rubbing their eyes. Not particularly intimated by the group of them. Reader stayed up late reading and needs sleep before she starts scowling at every noise made

Reader ends up snoring through the time she got to settle into her bunk. (Ghost heard her through the walls.) Thank goodness reader only snore when they're exhausted.

#141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #captian price #task force 141 #cod 141 #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mctavish x reader #john soap McTavish x reader #price x reader #captian price x reader

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writersdrug · 6 months ago

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For the alpha/omega one, forced proximity on one of his missions he gets sent on, and she is basically standard issue along with his weapon. She’s around his stuff/in his bunk 24/7, her sent slowly permeating everything, eventually his mask, driving him crazy/rut if that’s interesting. She gets captured, he starts to realize how much he’d unconsciously relied on her, goes feral, tears enemy base apart and she nurses him back to health? Hehehehe I love feral könig

Oh, he's pissed.

Warnings: mentions of violence, attempted sexual assault (very minor and brief, guy gets what's coming to him)

When Ridgeback had informed the team that they had a new assignment, König was sighing in relief. Finally, a moment away from that damned omega. A chance to prove that he didn't need some weak, not-so-self-sustainable thing to "improve his performance" (if anything, you were just making him grumpier, with how often you complained about the standard-issued nesting material. He already said he'd buy you some new blankets, ok?!).

But then, Ridgeback announced that any partners belonging to the soldiers would be included on the deployment. Meaning omegas. Meaning you.

You weren't happy, either. You thought you were going to get an entire two weeks to yourself, including the entirety of König's room and bathroom and a chance to roll around in his clothes and scent uninterrupted. You'd get to chat it up with the sweet beta corporals that accompanied you to the mess hall in your Alpha's absence. But now? Being flown out to god-knows-where with König, a.k.a. Chuckles? With even fewer nesting materials of an even lesser quality? Great. Just perfect.

König hated how you were everywhere. He hated how your scent, ocean breeze and warm sandalwood, had clung to every article of clothing he owned. He hated how you built your (rather lackluster) nest in the top bunk with a literal wall of pillows around you - he wasn't even in there with you, why were you adding insult to injury? He hated that you were even here in the first place. Who's idea was this?! Now he has to growl at anybody that approaches his table in the dingy cafeteria where the two of you eat in silence, or sit in in the briefing room with you squished to near death in the corner, just to keep you away from other alphas. Not to mention, projecting his scent to cover yours is very inconvenient, you should really stop smelling so nice.

It was a breath of fresh air when they finally landed at the objective rally point for the mission - but the gunshots and acrid smell of blood did little to drown out the thoughts of you. What were you doing without him there to scowl at you? He didn't like the idea of some random beta from this random base taking you to meals, but it was better than an Alpha, he supposed. Your scent clung to his mask, and although it made his senses keener and sharper, he really wished it would just go away, so he could stop thinking of you and focus on the mission. Thankfully, it didn't last too long.

Thank goodness he was still in overdrive when the heli touched base, though - because he quickly found out that you were not where you should be: in his room. He'd have half a mind to think you ran off to do your own thing, if it wasn't for the sour scent in the room, rather than your usual sweet, slightly angry notes. You didn't leave intentionally.

Everyone was instantly on edge when he burst out of the room, nostrils flaring and pupils shrunken in his rage. Horangi rushed after him as König stormed throughout the base, following the trail of your scent (he has to make sure his friend doesn't kill anyone - innocent, that is). He hadn't claimed you yet; a decision he was regretting more and more by the second. What kind of Alpha was he? Leaving you alone on a foreign base without a nice, toothy mark on your neck. No, he didn't need you (🙄), but you were his. He should have made that clear. He didn't like it when people tried to take his omega.

It didn't take long before he heard you - some idiot Alpha had dragged you into the back of a humvee, and König could see your limbs kicking and scratching underneath the man (who had a decent, bloody scratch on his face - good on you). Your snarls and hisses echoed through the cracked windows - which König promptly shattered as he smashed his arm through it, grabbing the sergeant by his collar and pulling him out through the broken glass. You suddenly froze at the sound of the man being punched relentlessly, smelling a familiar cinnamon, woodsmoke, and earth, combined with the smell of blood. König's scent smelled like straight blood when he was angry, and it was terrifying, even to you.

Horangi was quick to interject König and his death sentence to the sergeant, pulling him off of the smaller Alpha - a bold move, even dangerous, but their pack bond was thicker than iron, and König wouldn't mistakenly swing on his friend.

Horangi shoved König back, muttering a quick "get your omega", before pulling the now-unconscious sergeant up by his armpits. "I'll do something with him."

König took a moment to clear his head, breathing in deeply and exhaling through clenched teeth. He then moved to the other side of the car with stride, yanking open the back passenger door and reaching in. You made a sound, a frightened squeak, still alert and cautious, as he promptly dragged you out from the back seat. After a quick brush of your clothes with his hand, making sure there's no lingering shards of glass on you, he tossed you over his shoulder with a grunt and made back for the barracks, leaving Horangi to deal with the soldier.

You assumed you're in deep waters with him now. König didn't say a word to you, just stormed through the halls and huffed at anyone he passes. You were a bit embarrassed by the whole ordeal: you had been dragged out, kicking and screaming (and gave a proper, internal fuck you to the surrounding personnel that did nothing) from the barracks, and now here you were, being dragged right back in - just without the protest.

He reached your shared quarters and shoved his bulky frame inside, kicking the door shut behind him. You were about to explain yourself when he slipped you off of his shoulder and put you back on your feet - then promptly leaned down and shoved his face into your neck, inhaling rather obnoxiously while gripping you by your arms. You whined at the sudden, atypical behavior, gently pushing against his chest to get away from the behemoth of a man. He ignored it, picking you up again and carrying you into his bunk bed. He drags you in between himself and the wall, chuffing when you fit so nicely against his frame. Had you always been so comfortable? Why didn't someone convince him to hold you like this sooner?

You, on the other hand, were not as comfy. This wasn't your nest - you didn't have that stupid, grey, felt blanket that was five feet too long, nor the extra pillows you had stolen from the empty room across the hall. You didn't have your border, your flimsy wall of protection against the rest of the world. You squirmed in König's grip, shoving against his taut abdomen and trying to climb over him. He growled, a sound that had you bristling for a moment, but you pushed past it.

"Gimme a sec-"

"Schatz, please-"

"Just a minute!"

He huffed and let you go; you scrambled over him and out of his bed, the thick, muscular cords of his abdomen tensing as you used it to support your weight. He lay on his back and sighed. He just saved you from some cocksure, weaker Alpha - weren't you thankful? I mean, really - this was truly insulting. Here he was (oh, look, his fist was bleeding from smashing the car window, didn't that show you he was a good protector? A good mate?), fresh off of deployment, fighting the demons of the world just for you, and you had the audacity to turn your nose away from him and shuffle back to your precious little nest. How sweet of you. Very appreciative, liebe. Why don't you-

He was torn from his thoughts when a blanket was tossed over him. He pulled it back, confused, as he felt you shoving pillows into his side. You tucked them around him, forming a barrier around the side of him that was closest to the edge of the bed. He watched as you fussed for a bit, beating and fluffing the pillows until they were just right. You then tossed one more onto the bed - one that was wearing his shirt as a case, which had him melting - and climbed overtop of him again.

His chest rumbled with an affectionate sound as you took a damp bathroom towel and began wrapping it around his busted hand. You held it against your chest as you curled into his side once more, not protesting or scrunching your face when he wrapped his other hand around your waist and rubbed your back. He preened when he felt the reverberations of your purr against his hand, your sweet scent filling the air and causing him to relax his shoulders and neck muscles. It permeated his brain and made his Alpha sigh with relief, happiness, and satisfaction. Your scent was finally untainted by that bitter, angry note that you usually had.

"Thanks for... today." you said, deciding to leave the details unspoken. "Sorry about the-"

"Don't be sorry." he rumbled, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your lower back. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You couldn't be."

"Well, now I am."

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut. He's not so bad... getting sent off by my family to some random military company was bad, sure, but... my Alpha's a good one. This could be good.

"You're purring very loudly, schatz."

"Shut up."

#I loveeeeeee this send me more!!!!#konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig cod #konig x yn #alpha konig x omega reader #alpha konig #omega reader #a/b/o #konig call of duty #a/b/o dynamics #alpha/omega

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unabletonotlovesatoru · 2 months ago

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: long awaited part two!! im so happy with how people are enjoying my stuff its so nicee <33 thank you all so much! i hope you enjoy this too :) also pls dont ask for visuals for this i really am not in the mood to look for something this obscure through twitter porn accs.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ contains: mind that this is timeskip! bakugou as mentioned in part 1. nsfw! reader is still gender neutral and wears a suit, bakugou still has a praise kink, handjobs(m receiving), kissing, praising, also maybe a little bit of exhibitionism but honestly not really.

read part 1 here!

the next time bakugou sees you is when he's attending the annual hero gala.

he wasn't too eager to go, honestly, but his manager basically forced him because he needed to get on people's good side, and nothing works better than his fans getting excited over new pictures and all. katsuki is looking especially good tonight, he knows: a three piece suit that he decorated with the same jewellery set he wore on the photoshoot with you.

it was a gift from the brand: a set of gold earrings with red rubies that he was photographed in first, a simple clean gold necklace and a set of extravagant and quite flashy rings for all of his fingers which he liked a lot. and that damned box of jewellery hasn't moved from its spot in the first drawer of his bedside table until tonight.

he doesn't spot you at first though.

it's only when the flash of a camera blinds him when he is turning around that bakugou is made aware of your presence.

that soft, almost lazy curl of your lips, calmness and curiosity of your attentive gaze and the signature camera in your hands as you scan his figure up and down - bakugou's heartbeat involuntarily quickens, his hand gripping a flute of awful tasting champagne nearly breaking in his hold. he straightens his back immediately, his face wearing its usual scowl.

"you look handsome, bakugou-san." you say, clicking another picture of him before you wander off somewhere else, cutting off any possible further interaction.

putting away the drink in his hand, bakugou races after you yet you're already mixed in the big crowd that appears out of nowhere. it doesn't help that the classic suit you're wearing is identical to everyone's around this big ass venue. and kirishima drags him back to their tables, urging him into joining a useless conversation, while bakugou insistently keeps looking back, looking for you.

katsuki feels electricity running through his whole body when his gaze locks with yours from across the room. it's a brief moment that lasts two seconds yet it's enough to make him go crazy, promising himself to catch you later and say something.

throughout the evening, bakugou occasionally glances around the ballroom, catching the sight of you taking pictures. an easygoing smile present on your relaxed face as you nod and respectfully bow in front of every hero you meet, timidly introducing yourself and asking if you can capture the beautiful moment they are having.

he's watched you be surrounded by an overly excited mina and ochako, with yaoyorozu and jirou peeking behind you as they all looked through the pictures you just took, leaning in close and comfortably, which made you visibly flustered. soon kirishima and denki joined them, tugging shouto and izuku along so you could work your magic on them too, and bakugou felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you smiled back at the red haired idiot, your beam bright enough to match his.

he looks away solemnly before making his way out of the ballroom, hands deep in his pockets and his face set into a permanent scowl. as he gets ready to leave the venue, you seem to appear out of nowhere — bakugou catches your figure disappearing behind one of the fancy doors in the lobby he is standing in and without a second thought, he is moving after you.

the library is cloaked in silence. it’s dark and unwelcoming, but bakugou’s eyes only focus on you — leaning against the bookshelves as you stare back at him, waiting. your camera is absent, surprisingly, and your small, knowing smile lures him in as he steps closer and pushes the door behind himself, watching the soft light disappear.

“your manager invited me to come here, y’know? as his plus one.” bakugou’s body tenses before he realises that his manager wasn’t present tonight, something about ‘sore throat’ and whatnot. but the mere thought of him being brave enough to ask you to go as his date? even though you clearly declined his offer it doesn’t change the fact that the boy had more balls than him and it makes him fucking furious.

“that little shit,” he growls under his breath, already structuring a fitting punishment for his manager, but the sound of your melodic laughter pulls him out of his thoughts.

“could you come closer?” you offer him your hand, a serene smile on your face.

bakugou obeys.

he leans closer to you, the scent of worn paper mingling with the faint trace of your perfume. his breath hitches as your fingertips graze his wrist, a whisper of contact that sends a tremor down his spine.

your gaze locks with his, eyes smoldering with an unspoken promise. with you pressed between him and the cool, ridged bookshelves, he feels as if the world shrunk until it was only him and you. he yearns for your touch, his chest tightening with an almost desperate ache as he brings your hand to his own, guiding your hand to rest on his body.

it lingers on his torso only for a little bit, skilfully opening the buttons of his jacket, his vest, the bottom buttons of his shirt, and finally slides down to his crotch, cupping him through his pants.

oh fuck, he’s been dreaming of this.

it’s too dark to see anything, but a sliver of light is reflected on your pretty face, allowing katsuki to see your mesmerised expression — your brows raised in interest, your eyes glimmering in fascination and lips parted in surprise, puffs of air mixing with his exhales. he goes to hide his face in your neck, feeling too vulnerable under your attention, but your other hand quickly grips his jaw, effectively stopping him from moving, and bakugou is ready to blow his load then and there.

“no no,” you mutter, tilting his face down, “don’t hide from me. not when you look so pretty.”

katsuki suppresses a needy groan, but you stroke him faster, sliding the soft palm of your hand over his tip over and over again, until he twitches violently and you resume your previous movements. your hand is better than he imagined: it’s so pleasantly cool against the burning skin of his flushed cock, it’s enough to capture all of it in a tight fist and it’s making him see stars he hasn’t seen ever since he first jerked himself off.

“that’s it,” you muse idly, leaning in to press a kiss against his jaw, “you’re doing so good, angel.”

katsuki shudders and glances down at where you’re touching him, exhaling shakily as he burns the sight into his mind, willing himself to keep it forever. you continue planting soft kisses on his face; moving from his chin to his cheek, licking the salty skin of it as if savouring the taste and pecking the corner of his lips so fucking innocently that bakugou nearly loses his mind. one of his hands moves from the shelf behind you and cups the back of your head, moulding his mouth against yours because it’s too much.

your mouth detaches from his momentarily, “i never stopped thinking about you, y,know?”

he’s close, he’s so fucking close, and your words only bring him closer. katsuki can’t stop his hips from bucking into your hands, slotting his mouth over yours again to conceal his sinful grunts and moans that threaten to turn into pathetic whines if he doesn’t let go right now. your nimble fingers weave through his hair, grabbing harshly despite your overall soft demeanour, and it’s enough to make him cum: with his hips jerking forward erratically and choked whines leaving his throat as you continue gliding your hand up and down, with your own rhythm that doesn’t match his at all, but feels so fucking good katsuki’s knees turn into jelly.

“you’re so good for me, katsuki.” you purr into his ear as he pants, unable to catch his breath and stares down at you with a gaze so fucked out it makes your expression turn fascinated once again, “so perfect.”

you kiss his neck, pecking almost chastely as you grab the small handkerchief from his suit’s pocket and clean off the mess from your fingers and his cock before tucking him back into his slacks, and katsuki’s never been more grateful because he doesn’t know if he could’ve done it so easily himself. not after what happened.

after bakugou’s breathing steadies, there is a familiar silence settling between you two, one that you disturb with your hands gripping his shoulders and eyes boring into his soul.

“i don’t know if someone’s already called you their muse,” you murmur softly, the earnestness of your gaze pulling him in, “but i would like to make you mine.”

fuck yes, he thinks and kisses you again.

#— teddy’s writing shop 𐙚🧸ྀི #i love this man #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #mha #mha x reader #mha bakugou #mha x you #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki smut

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tojipie · 1 year ago

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mma fighter toji? (im so happy tk see that you’re back btw ❤️)

i really do think this is the best ask i’ve ever gotten pls feel proud of ur brain before u go to bed tonight bc ily. wrote this on the verge of falling asleep if u see any spelling error no u did not.

mma fighter!toji x reader | 1k words

content: violence, injury, blood, reader objectified by stranger

────────────────────────

“you got it, you got—don’t fucking look at her, look at me fushiguro!” your boyfriend’s manager yells, holding a bucket to the younger man’s heaving chest with a sigh.

toji nods at the command, taking a swig of water and spitting into the vessel before wiping his mouth with an ungloved hand. fighters never drank in the ring, it’d only settle heavy in your stomach. make you easier to catch.

blood and saliva drip down his chin and onto the floor of the ring, bright red patters against black mesh.

you watch the veins in toji’s neck pulse underneath sweaty skin, decorated with swirls of black and grey ink. his tattoos extend down his chest and back, working to cover the mess of purple and blue bruises across his body.

on his rib lies a scrawl of your name, etched into his skin for millions to see every time he stepped into the ring.

the raven haired man says something unintelligible to his team before smacking his temple with his glove, almost as if he was trying to knock something back into place.

you cringe at the thought of a brain injury so early into his career. you’d heard stories before, world class fighters reduced to shells of themselves. shot memories, seizures, even paralysis. you try not to think too deeply about it.

the TV screens in front of you pan to across the ring to his opponent. ryomen sukuna, 2 years into his career with every title under the sun.

everything except heavyweight champion. the name belonging to the winner of this very match.

sukuna was terrifying, completely unfazed by the rivets of blood pouring from his temple and left nostril. you’d quite literally watched him pop his nose back into place during the first break after your boyfriend had dealt a serious blow to it. to say this man scared you was an understatement.

toji notices your anxiety, leaning against the mesh wall of the ring to look down at you in the front row.

“you watchin’?” he yells with a grin, barely coherent over the mixed sounds of cheers and boos.

you smile, though your boyfriend scowls at the onslaught of paparazzi trying to capture the tender moment. he spits at the see-through wall of the ring to serve as an unspoken “fuck you.” cheers ring out from the sidelines as the screens capture the interaction.

toji turns to you and pushes off of the mesh wall, throwing his hands out with a “tsk” and a shake of his head.

“you worried about me baby?” he teases, fully aware that the cameras are still on him. “you don’t gotta worry about me, right?.”

you laugh, motioning for security to shoo any onlookers off. the mix of adrenaline and attention was clearly getting to him, though you loved when he got cocky like this. he always fucked you hardest after a big win.

the two men settle back into the middle of the ring, the referee separating them with an stern arm. sukuna looks down at you with an unreadable expression, pinning you to your seat with just a glance. toji’s pink-haired opponent turns back to him with a sinister grin, taking out his mouthguard to speak clearly. you only manage to make out the end of his insult, blood running cold as his words register.

“..and after they give me that title? i might fuck that little girlfriend of yours, fushiguro.”

toji says nothing, expression blank. you begin to wonder if he even heard the other man, but the buzz signifying round 3 pulls you out of your thoughts. you brace for whatever may come next.

sukuna is a brick wall, but toji’s light on his feet, weaving in and out of punches with his gloves guarding his face.

he’s faster than usual, spurred on by adrenaline and anger.

he lands a kick to sukuna’s ribs, the sickening crunch reaching the front row right on impact. definitely two, maybe even three broke ribs you hear a fan spectate.

his opponent curses, landing two punches to his chest before knocking toji to the ground, just barely missing the raven haired man with a solid blow right as he springs upwards.

“you gonna fuck her?” toji scoffs, landing another kick to sukuna’s injured ribs. you can barely make out their conversation even with a front row seat, you doubt anyone in the stands has been able to understand them this whole time.

the pink-haired man winces on impact, his first show of weakness since the beginning of the match.

“huh? tell me.” your boyfriend muses, dodging a kick and throwing sukuna to the floor. cheers ring out in the stadium at the direct show of brutality, you cover your mouth in anticipation.

toji settles his body weight on the man below him, twisting his arm as far as it will go while keeping his face to the floor. his legs wrap around and under the second man, squeezing his injured ribs like a vice with his thighs.

sukuna lands a blow with his free arm, then another, then another. toji does nothing, holding his opponent down with a smile almost too wide, too sinister.

“fuck.. fuck!” sukuna yells, struggling under the weight of the man above him.

the crowd is in hysterics, the announcers are out of their seats. “an unprecedented burst of energy,” you hear them call it. nothing like they’d ever seen before during any of toji’s matches.

you have to fight off the ego boost it gives you, knowing he’s only fighting this hard for you. because another man dared to speak on your name in his presence.

toji takes a couple more punches with that same smile, finally grabbing his opponent’s free arm to render the other man motionless.

you stagger out of your seat, running into the isle to get a better view of the ring.

the referee crouches by the two men, waiting to call the match. sukuna shares a look with third man, groaning before tapping toji’s wrist three times.

the crowd is animalistic. screams, wails, jeers, all of it meshes together within seconds.

toji’s security forms a circle around you, leading you towards the ring as fans flood the isles in celebration.

that was it, he’d won the title. Fushiguro Toji, heavyweight champion.

sukuna is led out of the ring by his team, choosing to forego any post-match interviews. he doesn’t dare look at you as he passes you on the steps, humiliated beyond belief.

calls of your name echo out from the center of the ring, your boyfriend pushing past paparazzi to scoop you into his arms.

the heat from his torso melts into yours as he clutches you to his body. he’s sweaty, practically bleeding from every direction too. but he’s smiling.

it’s not the smile he puts on for press, a quick flash of perfect teeth to keep the morale light, keep his sponsors happy. not the sinister smile he flaunts during matches either, fueled by bloodlust and pure adrenaline.

not even the cocky smile he puts on for the crowd when the match gets tough, the one that gets his opponents mad, gets the crowd hit and bothered.

this smile is soft, private. a small show of love in a sea of flashing cameras and prying eyes. this smile says “i love you, I do this for you.”

you reach for his face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. toji wipes the blood—his— from your lips with a calloused thumb, pulling your head to his chest with a soft murmur.

“i love you.”

#adah’s asks #i love this ask so much #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji drabbles #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji hcs #toji headcanons #mma fighter toji #mma fighter!toji #mma fighter! toji fushiguro #toji angst #toji x reader fluff #toji x reader angst

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 2 months ago

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Heyy, could you maybe do an age difference reader x Toto Wolff or sunshine x grumpy, where he has one of his headphone breaking moments and she scolds him in the middle of the garage? Like I’d find super funny like his smaller, younger wife yelling at him for breaking his headphones and the fans and media eating that up haha. Please and thanks!! <3

The hum of the Mercedes garage was as familiar as it was chaotic, a rhythm of voices, machinery, and focused intensity. Engineers moved swiftly, the clatter of tools punctuating their discussions as mechanics fine-tuned the car for the upcoming race. Amidst the organized chaos, you stood by the monitors, scanning data with a calm focus that contrasted sharply with the frenetic energy around you.

Then it happened.

“Verdammt!” Toto’s voice boomed from the other end of the garage, startling even the most seasoned team members. Heads turned to see him, towering as always, but now radiating frustration. His expression was a storm cloud, and in his hands were the remnants of his latest pair of Bose headphones, the poor device snapped clean in two.

You let out a sigh, half amused, half exasperated. Your husband—the esteemed team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, feared and respected across the paddock—had once again succumbed to his infamous headphone-breaking habit.

“Oh no, not again,” you muttered under your breath. You handed your tablet to a nearby engineer and strode across the garage, weaving through the maze of equipment and personnel. The team parted like the Red Sea as you approached, sensing what was about to unfold.

Toto stood there, oblivious to the audience he had attracted. His broad shoulders heaved as he tried to rein in his temper, the broken headphones dangling from his massive hands. He looked every bit the grumpy giant he was known to be, but to you, it was just another Friday.

“Toto Wolff,” you began, your voice sharp enough to cut through the air. His head snapped up, and his stormy gaze softened—just a little—when it landed on you. But his sheepish expression did nothing to quell your determination.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” you demanded, planting your hands on your hips. Despite being significantly shorter and younger than him, you had no trouble commanding the attention of a man who could intimidate entire boardrooms.

“They broke,” Toto said, as if that explained everything. He held up the shattered headphones as evidence, his Austrian accent thick in his defense.

“Oh, really?” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words. “Did they break, or did you break them? Because I’ve lost count of how many pairs you’ve destroyed this season alone. What is it now, five? Six?”

A snicker rippled through the garage, and you caught George trying to suppress a grin from where he stood by the car. Even the media personnel hovering near the entrance couldn’t hide their amusement, cameras clicking furiously to capture the moment.

Toto’s ears turned red, a rare crack in his composed demeanor. “It was… a stressful situation,” he mumbled, looking anywhere but at you.

“Stressful?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “And snapping your headphones in half helps how, exactly? Are you planning to intimidate Red Bull with broken electronics now?”

The garage erupted in laughter, and Toto’s lips twitched, caught between a scowl and a smile. He shifted awkwardly, the 6’4” team principal suddenly looking very much like a schoolboy caught red-handed.

“You need to control your temper, mein Liebling,” you said, softening your tone but not your resolve. “You’re setting a terrible example for the team. And for the record, I’m not buying you another pair. You can use the cheap earbuds like everyone else until you learn some self-restraint.”

Toto’s eyes widened, the horror of your words sinking in. “Not the earbuds,” he said, as if you’d suggested he race barefoot.

“Yes, the earbuds,” you confirmed, folding your arms. “Consider it a lesson in anger management.”

Another wave of laughter rippled through the team, and even Toto couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. He looked down at you, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and affection.

“You’re terrifying when you’re angry,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Good,” you replied, poking a finger into his chest. ��Maybe you’ll finally listen to me.”

As you turned to walk away, the garage buzzed with whispered commentary and stifled laughs. The moment had been caught by every camera in the vicinity, and you had no doubt it would be all over social media within the hour.

A shadow loomed over you, and you turned to see Toto standing there, an apologetic smile on his face. In his hand was a hastily repaired pair of headphones, held together with duct tape.

“I’ll behave,” he promised, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “No more broken headphones.”

“Good,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “Because next time, it’ll be the earbuds and no kisses for a week.”

He groaned dramatically but nodded, retreating to his post with his makeshift headphones. You shook your head, a fond smile tugging at your lips. He might be a grumpy giant with a penchant for breaking expensive electronics, but he was your grumpy giant. And if keeping him in line meant scolding him in front of the entire team, well, you were more than up to the task.

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x y/n

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mygnolia · 5 months ago

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HINCE KISSES | p. sunghoon

୨୧ -› his lips were red like cherries in the spring, and you had to have a taste.

pair -› idol/model!sunghoon x fem!reader | trope -› established relationship | wc -› 500 | warning -› suggestive (kisses) | library

sunghoon’s lips look ten times more delectable than they ever have—you internally thank the photoshoot with HINCE JAPAN for his fresh complexion and the bag of products in his hand.

“someone’s all dolled up,” you compliment, looking at his loose button up and glowing skin.

sunghoon rolls his eyes as you two walk to his car. “it’s just the company, but i saw some of the clips, and they made me look pretty good.” his gloating earns a jealous scowl from you. just how many people got to see him so perfect like how he looks right now?

unfair.

the drive is home is filled less teasing than before. the air is warm with comfort and laced with care as he takes every red light as an opportunity to glance over at you and rest his hand on your thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze as you tell him about your day before you got dropped off to wait for him.

you two go from talking about the little things to getting food, laughing as sunghoon gets sauce on his lip and waits impatiently for you to wipe it off. the night ends when you two get ready for bed, slipping into pajamas back at his dorm and having the privacy to yourself. now, he finally gets the chance to open the complimentary bag of gifts and you marvel over the company’s kindness together.

you open the cushion foundation, trying it out on your palm before moving onto the set of lip tints that he modeled before joining sunghoon on the bed, sitting on his lap as you face him with the tint in hand. “let me put some on?”

sunghoon looks away bashfully, smiling before giving in and letting you slowly layer on the product onto his lips.

your boyfriend watches you carefully, his gaze suggesting that your proximity should lead to more. the hand rests on his shoulder moves to his neck and you lean in for a slow kiss.

“now you’ve tried some, too.” he comments cheekily.

you huff before leaning over to check the mirror, applying some more of the product to see if it really looks good or not.

“i think it looks better on you than me,” you pout. your boyfriend smiles, his eyes crinkling with how much he adores you and your antics.

“don’t say that, baby,” he laughs, tucking your hair back, “give me another kiss?”

you shake your head, about to get off of him in faux anger. sunghoon’s hands immediately travel to your waist as he stops you from leaving, and his gaze begs you to forgive him for the crime of looking too good.

“does this mean i get a kiss from you?” sunghoon reminds you. you pretend to be in thought before he grabs your chin gently to capture your lips in yet another searing kiss.

sunghoon kisses you like he was born to keep his hands on your waist and sighs when it deepens. you boyfriend pulls you closer, tilting his head slightly and swipes at your bottom lip. your hands move to his chest, and he reads your body language, giving you one more peck before you pull away, giggling at the suddenness of everything.

“come on, hoon. let’s sleep.” he reluctantly lets go of you as you place the products on the table, laying down next to him after turning off the lamp.

“i’ve missed you, baby,” he says, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“i can tell,” you laugh, seeing the remnants of his tint in the moonlight. “i missed you too, my little beauty ambassador.”

reblogs are appreciated! feedback also appreciated!

going feral over sunghoon day 199339292

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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 5 days ago

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Jealousy

Just an idea that popped into my head. So many jealous!Bucky fics but where's my jealous!reader ones?

Summary: You get jealous when you see Bucky so close to someone and decide to do something to stake your claim

"Staring like that won't do anything."

You glance to your left, raising an eyebrow as Natasha takes a seat next to you. She smiles back, clearly amused at your predicament and takes a sip from her glass of what smells like whisky. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your glass, poking the large ice cube inside.

"I'm not staring." You scowl, stabbing the ice a little harder with the toothpick in your hand.

"Glaring then. I could feel the heat all the way from the other side of the room."

"Oh please, that's an exaggeration. The only heat around here is the body heat from all the party guests." You look up at Natasha who has this devious look in her eyes. You're a little afraid of what's going to happen next, the last time you saw that look in her eyes was when Tony found all his suits decorated in bright pink confetti that refused to come off for a week.

"Really? Then tell me, how long has that girl been harassing Barnes for?"

"About fifteen minutes give or take." The words slip out before you know it, and regret immediately hits. You just proved Nat's point, and you hate yourself for it.

"Ok fine, I was staring. But it's only to ensure she doesn't do anything shady, or go too far." You raise your hands in surrender. Natasha's smirk lets you know she hasn't bought that excuse one bit.

"Go on." Natasha is clearly trying to hold in her laughter, enjoying it as you fumble for more excuses as to why you were staring at Bucky and the girl by his side.

"Was Y/N caught staring at a certain someone again?" A new voice joins in the conversation and you groan. Wanda slides into view, eyes bright with amusement. "You're getting less subtle as time goes on."

"Please just leave me to drink in peace," you sigh, flopping face first onto the table.

"When the chance is right there?" Wanda chuckles, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You need to go there now and ask him out, or that girl is going to steal him away."

"Couldn't have put it any better myself." Sam comes into view, grinning like a maniac. "I told you before, Bucky's obsessed with you. Man refuses to shut up about you, mentioning your name in his vicinity just sets him off and suddenly he's rambling like some grandfather telling his grandkids about the good old days."

"Will the three of you just scram?" You weakly hit Sam in the arm, causing him to laugh.

"No can do, Y/N. Not when we're the best wingmen and wingwomen in the house." He flashes the other two a grin which they return, clearly delighting in your suffering.

"Hear hear," Wanda chimes in and you give her a small push of annoyance.

"Time's ticking, Y/N. The girl's starting to feel Barnes up." Natasha pats you on the back. "It's now or never."

"I'm going to end all three of you someday." You mutter, pushing yourself upright. Looking at the man who captured your attention the night you found him in the kitchen trying to distract from the nightmares, you realise that he is, in fact, trying to extract himself from the girl whose hands have wandered a little too far.

Something takes over, maybe it's the beast inside that wants to lay claim to everything you consider precious, maybe it's jealousy at how forward the girl is compared to you, but whatever it is, it sends you forwards towards the pair.

Your fingers curl into fists, eyes narrowed as you stalk towards them, a fire coiling inside your chest.

"Hands off my man, or I'll remove those hands for you. Permanently." The words come out as a growl, and your eyes darken. You may be shorter than Bucky, but you're far more intimidating right now, standing by his side as you place a hand on the small of his back.

Bucky blinks, looking at you with surprise written all over his face. He's only seen you like this once — when he'd been badly injured during a mission. Back then you'd stood over him, snarling at anyone who came a little too close and tearing into enemies who dared to try until the medics arrived. Even then, it had taken the combined efforts of Sam and Natasha to calm you down enough such that the medics could attend to him.

"Oh, you didn't tell me you were already seeing someone." The girl smiles, waving at you. "They seem…nice."

Bucky laughs nervously, "they are…nice…"

You narrow your eyes, lips curling and the girl backs off, hands raised in surrender.

"Alright alright, I'll be going on now. See you around, Bucky! If you ever want an upgrade, you know where to look." She winks, waving at him as she leaves, dress swirling around her legs. You hiss, glowering at her retreating figure before turning around, ready to head back to your drinks when a hand rests on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey doll, about what just happened —"

"Nothing happened." You push his hand off but he simply moves to block your way, giving you a poke in the chest.

"You at least owe me an explanation as to when I became 'your man'." His ice blue eyes sparkle with mirth, a finger gently sliding under your chin to tilt your head upwards. "Is this your way of proposing to me?"

"I —" You feel your cheeks heat up. "I just —"

"Speechless? That's a first." He smiles and you hear your heart thundering in your chest. "You know, if you wanted to go out with me, all you had to do was ask."

You swallow, placing a hand on his chest and push. "You just seemed uncomfortable with her, that's all. Go find yourself a better upgrade."

"That's going to be impossible. After all, I've already found the perfect one and they're standing right in front of me." He closes the distance, taking your hand in his. "So where would you like to take 'your man' tomorrow at 7pm?"

You stare up at him, stomach flipping. Your mouth opens and closes but no words come out. Is this real? Did Bucky just agree to go out on a date with you?

"Does pizza night work or would you prefer something fancier?" He probes, giving your cheek a poke. "Earth to Y/N, are you still there?"

"Yeah. Yeah, pizza night works. That…that sounds good. I'll see you then." You fidget nervously, struggling to compose yourself.

"Didn't think all it took to shut you up was ask you out on a date. If I'd known that I'd have asked you out earlier." He nudges you with his elbow, chuckling.

"Shut up. I'm talking now, aren't I?" You huff, glaring at him.

"There's my Y/N, back to being the most annoyed person to ever exist." He reaches over to ruffle your hair but you shove his hand away.

"Well, I wouldn't be so annoyed if a certain idiot would stop being an idiot." You're fighting the losing battle of being irritated at him, weakened by his acceptance of going out on a date with you tomorrow.

"You did just ask said idiot out, what does that make you?" He grins.

"Someone who's stupidly in love with said idiot, I suppose." You lightly punch him in the chest, embarrassed, and he laughs.

"About time I got you to admit it." He smiles softly at you. "Sam told me that you returned my feelings but I never quite believed it until now. I told him I'd wait until you asked me out, and here we are, although I didn't expect your proposal to go like this."

"I'm too sober for this, I need more drinks. Coming with?" You pinch the bridge of your nose and start to head towards the bar.

"Of course. Can't let my doll out of my sight now, can I? Not after they claimed me so dramatically." He loops his arm around yours and you feel the tips of your ears burn. You can smell his cologne, his scent, and he's yours now, officially. It makes you giddier than any alcohol ever could and it's a nice feeling. Maybe asking Bucky out wasn't such a bad idea after all, even if it didn't go as planned. It did turn this party into a memorable one, and you're sure that girl won't be back to try anything funny.

You're still going to end those three wingmen and wingwomen though.

#marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #marvel bucky #mcu bucky #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #bucky fluff

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brain-rot-central · 1 year ago

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Pegging Your Vampire Boyfriend: A Beginner's Guide

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. Kudos to @kittenintheden & Shaurbox for teasing this pegging idea with me over a month ago. It hasn't left my head since.

Rating: E, a very hard E Words: 5.3k Pairing: Spawn!Astarion/Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+, pegging, bdsm- soft!Dom Tav & sub!Astarion, bottom!Astarion, praise kink, ear play, size kink if you squint, inappropriate use of magical scrolls, oral sex - fellatio, anal fingering, anal sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, verbalized consent, blood warning

Summary: Astarion has been on the receiving end before, but not since he's gotten with you. Wanting to try it again, he propositions you in a rather intimate way.

“Darling?”

A soft, questioning voice calls out from the living quarters of your shared home.

“I'm in the kitchen, love,” you respond. You're standing before the countertop, fileting a roast of beef into smaller portions for easier storage.

Wisps of bergamot fill your senses as the inquisitor reveals himself, arms wrapping gently around your waist. His nose dips into the crook of your neck, cool lips planting chaste kisses upon your skin.

“Oh, that smells divine,” he comments. Of course it does - it's a blood-soaked slab of beef. You laugh and lean your head into his, carefully slicing another steak from the meat. He covers the hand holding your knife and brings it carefully to his face, tongue lolling out to drag across the flat of the blade. He sighs in contentment as the blood soaks into his tongue, lavishing the flavor.

You wince as he releases the grip on your hand, gently placing the knife off to the side. I’ll need a new one, now, you comment to yourself.

“Is there something you needed, Astarion?” you ask him.

He hums low in his throat. “Hmm, yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.” He peels himself away from your back and stands straight. His hands are still on your hips and you feel his forehead fall against your back.

In a whisper, he asks, “How do you feel… about taking the reins?”

You turn your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow as you ask, “What do you mean? I was on top last time.”

Astarion laughs against your back, a puff of cool air passing over your clothed skin. “I know, love,” he begins. “I mean to suggest that… you play the part of me. And I… well, you.”

It takes your brain a few seconds to interpret his words, but once it finally comes together, you feel a blush beginning to creep up your chest.

“Oh!” you exclaim, now with full understanding. “A-are you sure? I'm not opposed to it, but I have to admit… I've never done it before.”

Astarion chuckles lightly, tightening his grip around your waist, placing soft kisses along the side of your neck. “Neither have I, my dear.”

You peel yourself out of his embrace, turning your whole body toward him. A scowl lines your face; you know of his history.

“Well, I-” he stammers. “I've been with men, yes; laid on my back a number of times for them.” Astarion casts his eyes to the floor before continuing, “I have never done… this, though. With a woman.”

Expression softening from his explanation, you turn your body again toward the counter, moving yourself over to the sink to begin washing your hands. “Are you sure you want to explore this?” you ask, concern evident. “That it won't bring back… memories?”

He leans against the opposite end of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “There's no way to truly know unless we try,” he explains. “Though, I must admit, it's been on my mind incessantly, as of late.”

It's your turn to laugh, grabbing a hand towel to dry your hands. “Really?” you ask. “You've been thinking about me fucking you?”

Astarion scoffs, a scowl forming on his face. ��Must you be so vulgar?”

You smile, moving toward him to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'd be your first?”

He sighs with an eye roll before saying, “Proverbially speaking, yes, you would be my first.” Astarion's hand comes up to hold your chin fast as he captures your lips in a chaste kiss. “My second first.”

You hum in satisfaction, wrapping your arms around his waist. He releases your chin and you rest your head against his chest. “So, how do we do this?” you inquire. “I wouldn't even know the first place to start.”

Leaning his cheek against the side of your forehead, he replies, “Not to worry, I've taken care of that already.”

“Astarion!” you exclaim, lifting your head from his chest.

He smiles as he meets your gaze. “I already told you I've been thinking about it!”

You lightly tap on his chest in a scolding manner before asking, “How did you know I'd even be okay with this idea?”

“I didn't,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “But even if you weren't, I'd still have something to play with later.”

Your face burns at his bold admission, images of him sinking said something into himself flooding your vision. You've never thought of him in that way before, but you quickly admit to yourself just how much it excites you.

“Hello?” Astarion asks innocently, waving his hand over your face. “Are you still with me? Have I given you too much to think about?”

“You're terrible,” you tease, peeling yourself from his embrace in a huff once again. Your face is as red as hot coals, head swimming. “When did you want to try this?”

Astarion cocks his head to one side in thought. “I was thinking tonight?” he answers. “Or sometime soon. Whatever works for you, love.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you say, “Alright, then. Tonight it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evening has fallen and you're fresh from the bath. You walk out into your shared bedroom, bathrobe wrapped snugly around your form as you dry your hair with a towel. Astarion bathed earlier as you cleaned the kitchen, telling you he would use the opportunity to prepare for your night ahead.

“Ah, there you are!” he exclaims in joy. “I've been waiting for you.” Dipping down into the drawer of the end table next to the bed, Astarion says, “There are a couple options we can choose from, darling.”

Astarion is dressed in nothing but his ruffled white shirt with the front laces undone, and his favorite pair of baby-blue and gold underwear. The hem of the shirt covers his underwear, giving off the illusion of wearing nothing underneath.

Standing up straight, he's now holding a tube of rolled parchment in one hand and a phallic toy in the other. “We have a scroll of Mystical Phallus,” Astarion explains, “or, your more traditional approach.”

You smirk as you run the towel through your damp hair, letting your bathrobe fall to the floor. Lifting your chin toward the direction of the parchment, you ask, “What's the deal with the scroll?”

Astarion clears his throat as the robe falls off your form, eyes quickly roaming over your newly exposed skin. He turns to place the toy back in the drawer, returning to meet your gaze before saying, “The shopkeeper explained it as ‘granting the caster a temporary phallus that's as close to the real thing.’ Not quite sure to what level it goes, but I'll admit - I am curious.”

“Alright, let's go with that one, then,” you decide, walking over to take the scroll from his hand.

You're not too familiar with magic, being a soldier and all, but you've used scrolls before. Opening the paper tube, you're relieved to find that the spell is a rather simple one.

As you recite the incantation etched within the scroll, a faint blue light envelops the room for a mere moment. The light fades, the scroll disintegrating, and you can't help but notice an unfamiliar heaviness between your thighs that wasn't there before.

“Oh,” Astarion comments, shifting his weight onto one hip, accompanied by a hand. “Well, that's rather generous.”

Looking down, your eyes drink in the source of your discomfort. Glowing blue, and well endowed, lay a cock. Your cock, at least for tonight. It juts up proudly in the air from between your thighs, seeming like an extension of your clitoris. Other parts, thankfully, have remained unchanged.

“...Oh,” is all you manage, continuing to survey the mystical length. “This… this is mine?”

Astarion walks over, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “It would appear as such,” he states. “And my, oh my, how beautiful it is.”

You scowl, meeting his gaze. You're suddenly uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between yours and your newly summoned appendage. “I don't know what to do, Astarion,” you admit in a hushed tone.

He chuckles lightly. “Touch it, love,” he says, reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. It's your cock.”

Nodding your head, you bring a hand up hesitantly to brush over your new addition. “Ah!” you exclaim in shock, your fingertips passing over the bulbous tip. A familiar pulling sensation in your groin begins to stir as you bend slightly inward.

Astarion, looking up at you with wide eyes, asks, “So? How does it feel?”

You can feel everything, as if this has always been part of your anatomy. Each feathered touch sends sparks of electricity up and through you, snagging behind a peculiar spot in your lower stomach.

“Real, Astarion,” you sigh in disbelief, giving yourself a few more tentative touches along the shaft. “I feel like this is my cock.”

“Do you, now?” he quips in a sultry tone. “Is it okay if I do this, then?”

Your mind barely has time to register what he might be implying before Astarion drags the flat of his tongue up the underside of your ethereal summon. Your vision blanks from the sensation, nearly toppling over had Astarion not been bracing you.

“Wh-what was that?” you yell, nearly breathless.

Concern outlining his face, Astarion asks from below you, “Too much? We can stop, if you want.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “N-no,” you respond. “No, that's not it.” Placing a hand on his head, you brush his fallen curls out of his eyes, meeting them with yours. “If this is even remotely close to how you feel when it's me doing this,” you explain, “then I appreciate the level of self-control you maintain over yourself.”

Astarion hums in satisfaction, placing a quick kiss along your shaft before rising to his feet. “It's a lot, I'll admit,” he tells you. Your length jumps in response, and he smiles. “Especially how you suck my cock.”

You're barely able to respond before Astarion’s kissing you; soft, but passionate. His hands grab hold of your hips, drawing you in closer until your centers meet. You moan into his mouth as he repeats the motion a few times, your jaw going slack under his ministrations.

His arousal is evident through the fabric of his undergarments, though not quite there just yet. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you roll your hips into his with vigor, a bolt of pleasure pulling behind your pubic bone. He groans, tangling his tongue with yours, and begins walking you back until you hit the wall behind you.

Astarion asks, “Do you want me to do that to you, darling?” breathily, breaking the kiss. A hand winds in your hair, pulling your head to the side as he licks a stripe up the side of your neck.

You shudder under his touch, grinding your length against his clothed erection again, searching for friction. “O-oooh-nly,” you groan, “i-if you want.”

Astarion pulls himself back entirely, tapping a finger lightly on your chest. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, “I asked you. I already know what I want.”

You close your eyes in frustration, hips involuntarily lurching forward in an attempt to catch more contact. You feel how heavy your cock is - painfully hard between your legs, desperate for release. It throbs in time with your clit, and you feel the wetness of your arousal beginning to gather at the apex of your thighs.

“Y-yes, please,” you gasp, thighs rubbing together in a hopeless quest for relief.

Satisfied, Astarion plants a kiss along your jaw, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Good girl,” he purrs as he begins to kneel again. Tracing a line of kisses down your body, starting between the valley of your breasts, his hands move down to cup each within his palms.

Rolling the sensitive peaks of your nipples between his fingertips, your body jerks again, cock brushing ever so lightly against his chest as he continues kissing down the plane of your abdomen. Astarion, now sitting on his heels, braces his hands against your thighs.

He looks up to meet your eyes through full lashes. “Please tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he tells you, genuine concern lacing his tone.

You hum in agreement, a hand coming up to tangle within the silver locks atop his head. Watching as he closes his eyes, Astarion licks again at the underside of your cock, base to tip. You shudder as his hand wraps delicately around your shaft, peeling the foreskin back. He takes a few tentative passes with his tongue along your frenulum, meeting your eyes momentarily to gauge your reaction.

Your hips buck and stutter under his tongue, a string of pleasured gasps and guttural moans slipping past your lips. The hand in his hair tightens as he takes the head of you past his lips, suckling softly on the sensitive gland.

It takes a world of restraint not to shove the rest of yourself into the inviting cavern of his mouth. Astarion must know this, however, as the hand still planted on your thigh moves to your hip, holding you still. He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, passing as much of your length into his mouth as he can manage, his hand following you down to the base. He flattens his tongue on the way back up, hollowing out his cheeks as he reaches the tip, only to do it all over again.

Knees growing weak, you push your back into the wall behind you to hold yourself steady. The hand in his hair slips, pads of your fingers passing just over the tip of his ear. Astarion moans at the faint touch, the vibration shooting up through your cock and spreading like wildfire throughout your abdomen. You perform the same motion again, and Astarion begins craning his head into your touch.

“A-ah-” he gasps, pulling himself off of you. “Darling, if you keep doing that, I-”

His mouth falls open in a delicate pant, eyes flitting closed as he works his spittle over your length with his hand. You continue toying with the outer shell of his ear, intrigued at this new discovery, and he rests his forehead against your hip.

“I never knew you had such sensitive ears,” you comment as you look down, watching him rub his thighs together as his hips buck up and down into the air.

With a drawn out groan, Astarion explains, “I’m an elf, my love. We all have sensitive ears.”

“Noted,” you respond, shakily bringing a hand down to join him along your shaft. You softly peel off his touch, lacing your fingers together. “I-I think I want to try something else, now,” you admit.

Smiling, Astarion slowly rises to his feet, cradling your jaw within his hand. His lips, swollen and soft from his prior activity, find yours; his kiss is desperate - hungry. “What do you have in mind?” he questions between quickly stolen breaths.

A fire swells within your core, and you're suddenly met with the same raging intensity and desire displayed in Astarion's kiss.

Hand tangling within his mess of moonlit curls once again, you pull Astarion’s head back, exposing the marble column of his throat. He groans when you drag the flat of your tongue over the apple of his throat, hips jerking into yours.

“I want to try fucking you,” you whisper into his skin, grinding your conjured length against his concealed erection to punctuate your intent. The coiling in your core winds tighter, but not enough to snap just yet.

As his weight presses into you, his hands grip your biceps for stability. Another roll of his hips and he sighs, dropping his head down to catch your eyes. “Are you sure?” he questions, breathless. “Because I'd really like that.”

With a nod of your head, your hands travel up under the hem of his shirt to settle on strong, narrow hips. Your lips meet again, the kiss just as ravenous as before, and begin walking you both toward the bed. When Astarion’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he gently falls back, with you quickly closing the distance above him.

“You needn’t worry about preparation,” he reveals as you lavish attention on his neck. “I took care of that earlier.”

He shudders beneath you as you mouth his scars. “Isn’t that part of this whole process?” you ask while hooking your hands into the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.

Astarion lifts his hips up and laughs, providing enough space for you to slide the cotton fabric down and off his form. “It is, but I figured it was gracious enough of you to entertain this idea,” he explains. “Prep for this is… well, intimate.” He averts your gaze for a brief moment, drawing a large breath in before continuing, “I would understand if it didn’t appeal to you.”

Removing yourself from his reach, you sit back over your legs. His face shifts uneasily at your sudden withdrawal. “Astarion,” you begin to tell him, “I’m not ashamed of your body. I want to explore this as a couple.” He’s drawn his legs together in a likely attempt at covering himself. You place a hand atop one knee, rubbing soft circles as you say reassuringly, “All of it, together. So, please. Let me?”

Astarion sits up with a smile, and rests his forehead over yours. “If you keep being this nice to me, I may just return the favor,” he says, light-heartedly.

“You already do, Astarion,” you tell him with a laugh. “Always the gentleman.”

His kiss is a quick peck over your lips as he tells you, “There's a bottle of oil in the bedside drawer. Grab it, and I'll show you what to do.”

You nod, sliding off the mattress and doing as instructed. Astarion moves himself higher into the center of the bed, sinking into the comforter and pillows. The bed dips below him as you climb back on, bottle of viscous liquid in hand.

“Pour some into one palm and rub your hands together, love,” he instructs. “This helps warm the oil.”

Popping the stopper off the bottle, you pour the cool, thick, opaque fluid out into your hand. You reapply the cork, placing it face up on top of the bedside drawer, rubbing the palms of your hands together. It takes a bit, but inevitably your body heat begins to seep into the oil.

Astarion lay before you, eyes beginning to hood over as he follows your hands. His legs fall silently open as his breath hitches for a mere moment. “Good,” he says encouragingly, his voice an octave lower. “Now, come here. Between my legs.”

You move in closer and note how the hem of his shirt is obscuring his cock from view. You can just make it out, though - it pushes against the fabric of the shirt, tenting it slightly and you swear you see a small darkened spot right where the tip of his cock lay hidden. Looking up, your eyes drink in how his collar has fallen to one side, sliding down and off his right shoulder, exposing his collar bone. Astarion normally wears this shirt with the sleeves rolled up tight, yet today, he's chosen to wear them loose.

His hands, half covered by the cuffs of his sleeves, envelop yours in a gentle embrace as he guides your slickened fingers to his core. Astarion stills for a moment, and you look up to find him staring back at you.

There's an expression on his face that you’re not immediately familiar with - it's not fear, excitement, or lust, really. Yet, the longer you study him, recognition begins to dawn over you.

It's the same look you've given him countless times before on this very bed, having thrown caution to the wind as you entwine the very fabric of your souls together.

Astarion is… submitting himself. To you.

Something majorly delicate, knowing his past.

You know of what he was forced to endure while being compelled into submission.

The barrage of lovers who cared not for the person below them; who saw him only as a means to an end. A quick pump, a cheap lay, a tool to scratch a nagging itch.

“Some people refer to the moment of climax as ‘a little death,’” he’d once told you. That was before you knew just how many he'd lead to their actual deaths.

True to form, Astarion's words are often double-edged blades. His mind dances constantly on the edge of pleasure and shame. You see it in his face, now. He’s standing on that precipice, knowing not whether to jump head first or step back.

You swallow thickly and stare back at him, unblinking, before saying, “You can always tell me if it becomes too much, and I will stop.” You pause for a brief moment before adding, “Pleasure is my only intent, Astarion.”

A smile graces his lips as he welcomes your fingers to make first contact with his entrance. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a sigh, “I’ve never doubted that about you.”

Leaning over him as you press the pads of two fingers teasingly against his tight ring of muscle, you kiss him. Astarion groans softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face as he arches into the kiss. He’s grinding down lightly into your fingers, meeting each of your chaste touches against him.

“How many should I start with?” you ask softly, breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

“Two,” he answers, voice but a whisper against your lips. “Whichever ones you want.”

Humming into his mouth, you begin pushing your fingers into his entrance. Astarion’s breath hitches as you breach the perimeter, shoving his head back against the pillows. He instinctively tries closing his legs around you, though you hold one open with your free hand.

You still your movements, giving him a chance to adjust to the intrusion. “Is it alright?” you ask him.

Astarion nods his head as he moves a hand under his shirt to toy with a nipple. “Yes,” he huffs out. “I'm more than fine, love.”

Emboldened to the task at hand, you move, gently pushing and pulling your fingers within him. You feel his muscles contract around you and you briefly wonder if this is what he feels when he's inside of you. The thought sends a bolt of pleasure to your cunt, reverberating as a twitch of your cock.

You look down to watch your fingers as they work him open, and finally see his cock laying against the plane of his abdomen. Compared to the pallor of the rest of him, his length is flushed pink and red, and you can make out the labored beating of his undead heart as his cock thumps softly against his stomach. Pre-fluid seeps from his tip, gathering in a small puddle just below his navel. Bending down, you catch a small rivulet rolling off his hip with your tongue, tracing it back to the source. Astarion shudders under you, threading his free hand through your hair as he pushes down onto your fingers.

You're beginning to understand that this isn't too different from your usual sexual encounters with one another. It's truly just a mirroring of your typical positions. Out of curiosity, you curl your fingers upward in one particular pass, and his entire body spasms beneath you.

“Fuck, darling, yes… You've found it,” Astarion groans out, labored. The grip in your hair tightens and he begins fucking himself in earnest on your fingers, a string of moans falling from his lips as he passes that same spot over and over again.

Your cunt aches and your cock throbs watching the scene before you. To see him unraveling before you, submitting himself to the pleasure of the moment is intoxicating. His legs have fallen open again and you watch, diligently, at how easily your fingers glide in and out of his core.

“I- I need more,” Astarion suddenly chokes out. You meet his gaze and through lust-hooded eyes, he says, “Please… let me ride you.”

He's pleading, you notice. Begging. Your eyes travel down his form again, drinking in the wanton display of him splitting himself open over your fingers. Your cunt throbs; you think of nothing else in that moment but pulling out your fingers and replacing them with your cock.

To hear the delicious whines, the sobs, the cries that would surely tumble freely from Astarion's lips as he came undone around you. You want this, just as much as he does.

Pulling your hand free from his entrance, Astarion sobs as you crash your lips into his. “I'd love that,” you tell him, honestly.

Astarion begins to sit up, concentrating on never breaking the kiss you share as he aids you both in switching positions. You lay back, him straddling your lap mere moments later. He grinds his taint against your conjured appendage, your shafts brushing, and he cries out in a gentle moan against your lips. He breaks the kiss, reaching for the bottle of oil on the bedside table, dribbling some onto your cock.

With a few languid strokes of your mystical length to spread the oil and he lines himself up over you. Your eyes meet and you hiss through clenched teeth as your tip kisses his entrance, feeling the pressure slide over your glans as he slowly begins to take you.

“A-ahh,” Astarion pants from above you, still holding your cock steady in one hand. You sigh as you feel yourself push past the first ring of muscle, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hands grip at his thighs as the sensation threatens to overwhelm you, fingertips likely to leave bruises that will be gone come morning.

Once he feels confident that you're nestled far enough inside, he releases his hold on your shaft, resting the palms of his hands against your lower stomach. He continues to slowly take you further in, words in a language you're unfamiliar with spilling from his mouth, until he's flush against your thighs.

Both of you freeze in that moment - you struggle to control your ragged breathing as he flutters around you, Astarion taking a moment to adjust to this foreign, but not unpleasant, sensation.

“H-how do I feel?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Truthfully? He feels… astounding. Tight, wet, and warmer than you would have thought for a vampire. When he lifts his hips, you feel the air being pulled out of your lungs. His walls drag deliciously along your shaft, and a nagging pull starts to build behind your navel.

Your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as your eyes meet his through hooded lids. “A-amazing,” you pant out. “You feel so good, Astarion.”

He moans above you, his head falling to one side as he rolls his hips over your cock. His shirt hangs off one shoulder, the hem obscuring his cock again from view. Though, you feel its weight slap against your stomach with each lift and drop of his hips.

Astarion’s voice comes out strained when he says, “Tell me again… please.”

You feel your cock twitch within him; he clenches around you as he locks eyes with you, waiting patiently for a response. Strands of sweat-soaked hair stick to his face, and on one particular stroke of his hips, you brush up against that place inside of him that forces his vision to blur at the edges. His mouth begins to salivate.

“Please, please, please,” he begs impatiently, voice an octave higher now. He's practically sobbing, spearing himself over your cock so each roll is angled to hit his prostate. You meet his thrusts from below, coil winding tighter within your abdomen as his walls continue to massage your cock.

You're not going to last much longer.

“You're so good for me, Astarion,” you say, obliging him. “You're being such a good boy.”

Astarion's mouth drops open as he bows his head forward, his entire body dipping down over you as a shudder passes through him. “Yes,” he whines, rocking back on your hips with renewed vigor. You feel his cock lay flat against your abdomen in this new position. It drags over your stomach, pre-fluid dripping from his tip and onto your skin providing an easier surface.

I am! And beautiful - not enough people mention that.

His words from long ago echo in your mind as you drink in his expression. He's gorgeous above you; handsome to begin with, but as he slips further toward toppling over the Cliff's edge, his beauty is quickly becoming amplified as he continues to lose composure.

“You’re beautiful like this,” you coo to him, lifting a hand from his thigh to rub over an ear.

Astarion's body is wracked by yet another tremor as he cries, “Darling, if you don’t-, I will-, I'm going-!” His head nestles into the hand toying with his ear and his hips pump erratically over your cock, having lost his prior rhythm.

You suck in a sharp breath, jaw clenched as Astarion becomes impossibly tighter around your shaft, and you groan. You're so close, so very close that all you need is one more thing to push yourself over the edge.

“Let go, Astarion,” you say, somehow finding the rhythm in his desperate rutting. The sound of skin slapping roughly fills the room as your hips meet his on his downstroke. You wrap a hand around the outline of his cock tenting his shirt, and jerk him in tempo with your thrusts.

He’s sobbing, loud and unabashedly. With one particular pass of your fingers over the outer tip of his ear, Astarion suddenly unwinds. He yells his pleasure above you, collapsing onto your chest as wave after wave overcomes him. You feel his spend seep into the fabric of his shirt and onto the skin of your abdomen in a small warm pool.

It doesn't take long for the involuntary spasming of his core over your cock to send you spiraling into your own completion. Moans slip freely past your lips and you feel your folds become soaked, drippinh down the cleft of your ass as your relief washes over you. You bury your face against Astarion's hair, breathing in his soft silver curls and the signature cologne you know so well.

As you both begin to come down off your highs, you wrap your arms around his back and hold him tightly against your chest. You feel the spell of the phallus lift, Astarion whimpering softly as it vanishes from within him. You both lay on the bed, panting, trying to catch your breath for what feels like ages.

Astarion is first to lift up his head and say, “That… that was amazing.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement. You can barely open your eyes as fatigue begins to set in.

Taking a finger, Astarion traces circles absentmindedly into your skin as he rests his head back down over your chest. “Darling?” he asks softly. “May I tell you something?”

Sleep almost has its claws in you when you jolt back awake, forcing your eyes to snap open and find Astarion. “Hmm?” you groan in question.

With a quick huff, Astarion says, “I just wanted to thank you for doing this with me.” He places a quick peck below your jawbone before adding, “It was really nice.”

You sigh audibly, and say “It was, we should do this again.” Your eyelids are impossibly heavy; sleep is threatening to claim you and will do so in mere moments. “I love you,” you manage to mumble out before slipping gently out of consciousness.

Astarion smiles into your skin as he says, “I love you, too,”

I love this, he thinks.

I love us.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #bg3 #fanfiction #writing

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cowboybeepboop · 6 months ago

Text

The chase

”You know, Y/N, all these years of chasing storms... I think I've just realized what I've really been after." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. "You. You're all I've ever been chasing."

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut, idk it’s romantic too

Word count: 4k

Summary: Rivals in their careers as YouTube tornado chasers. But where you focus on chasing the storm Tyler is more focused on chasing you.

a/n: tbh I didn’t proofread so if there are mistakes my bad. But anyways hope you enjoy it. If you have any requests lemme know I’d be more than happy to write something for you.

You and Tyler Owens are two of the most well renowned storm chasers on YouTube, but your rivalry is legendary. Where Tyler is known for his daring and high-risk approach, you pride yourself on meticulous awning and safety. Your heated competition has been the talk of the tornado chasing community for years.

When a massive superstorm is predicted to hit a remote region, the stakes are higher than ever. Both you and Tyler are determined to capture the most intense footage, proving once and for all who really is on top.

As you sit in your hotel room, scrolling through various weather reports and radar apps, you can’t help but feel the tension building in the air. It’s the night before the big storm. You glance over at the door, knowing that your biggest competitor, Tyler Owens, is just a room away. The thought of him being so close sends a surge of frustration through you, but you try to focus on your preparations for the storm ahead.

You just came out of a steamy shower, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and your white painties. A loud knock on the door startles you from your thoughts, a sigh leaving your lips as you open the door. A scowl covers your face as you see your rival standing in front of you with a sly grin.

He chuckles at your reaction, leaning in the doorway. “What’re you doing in there? Thinking about your favorite country boy?” You cross your arms over your chest, glaring up at him.

“What do you want Tyler?” Your voice is full of annoyance.

He chuckles again, taking in your annoyed expression, his own cocky smirk adorning his face. He looks over your figure, thinking about you in far more inappropriate ways than he should.

“Can’t I just stop by to talk?” His voice is low and seductive as he takes a step toward you.

Putting a hand on his chest stopping him from coming in any further. “No, not without wanting something from me.” Standing your ground, you continue with a stern tone. “I know you Tyler, you don’t just stop by for no reason.”

He smiles, putting his own hand on top of the one on his chest. He slowly looks you up and down again, biting his lip as he does so. “Maybe I just can’t stay away from you…”

He takes a step closer once again, towering over you. His eyes lock into yours as he study’s your expression. Your breath hitches in your throat as a soft blush creeps up your cheeks.

“And what is that supposed to mean, cowboy?” You say while trying to regain your composure.

He notices your blush, his smirk growing at your reaction. He takes another small and careful step to you, closing the door behind him. He brushes your hair behind your hair, his eyes looking you up and down.

“It means I can’t take my mind off of you,” He takes another cautious step closer, “No matter how hard I try…” his voice trails off, your bodies inches apart, his body pressing very gently against yours.

“Tyler…” you whisper breathlessly, “Stop messing with me,” you step away from him, clearing your throat. Taking a deep breath you finish your sentence “We have a big storm tomorrow, why don’t you stop playing games and go back to your room” our voice regaining its firmness.

His smile drops when you step away, his eyes looking slightly hurt, but his usual cocky facade covers it back up.

“Why would I play games with you?” His voice is softer than usual, a bit of anger in his words. He’s filled with frustration at your constant pushing him away, even though you’re the one thing he can think about. “Why can’t you just let down your guard for a second and let me in?”

His hand cups your cheek pulling you closer to him as he wraps an arm around your waist. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave,” he whispers.

“Tyler?” Your voice is quiet as you look into his blue-green eyes. His thumb caresses your cheek gently. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of what you’re thinking, but he comes up with nothing. His cocky act drops slightly and you can see through his eyes how desperate he is for you.

He leans down next to your ear, his hot breath brushing against your neck. His voice is quiet and low, a pleading tone in his words. “Say it…” his body presses closer to yours “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Your eyes flick to the door then back to him. You find yourself speechless with a newfound dryness in your throat. “Ty.. I..” your voice trails off.

His fingers run down your side, bringing you flush against his body, his hand taking in every curve of your hips and waist. He nuzzles the crook of your neck, his hot breath teasing your bare skin. His voice is even lower as he whispers to you

“Tell me this isn’t what you want,” he presses a soft kiss on your neck, “Tell me you want me to go,” his lips move further down your neck, to your collarbone. “Tell me you don’t want me.” His voice is filled with desperation as he slides a hand up your shirt cupping one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing over your hard nipple.

You press up against the wall, pleasure running through your body as a soft moan escapes your lips. “Tyler…” you move your hand to his hair, tugging on the roots softly while pulling him closer to you.

“Tyler, I want you…” Your voice trails off as you squeeze your eyes shut relishing in the feeling of his hands on your body. His lips move against the side of your neck, leaving a long, slow trail of kisses, bites and light hickeys. His body reacting to our moans.

A low growl leaves his lips as you say the words he’s been waiting to hear. A wave of pleasure washes over him, his hand grips the back of your thigh pulling you up against him until you’re lifted off the ground, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck, Y/N,” His voice is low, “Say my name again,” his voice more demanding. Another knock at your door interrupts you and Tyler. His hands stay firm against your body even as he pulls his lips away from your skin.

”Y/N?” your storm chasing partner knocks at the door again. Tyler looks down at you with an expression of annoyance, frustrated at the interruption.

“Tyler…” your voice is stern as you pull your body away from his “hide in the bathroom” you whisper.

“You have to be kidding me. He mutters, reluctantly putting you down and letting his hands fall away from your body. As you send him into the bathroom he shoots you a glare before shutting the door leaving it open a crack, hiding in the bathroom and listening in on your conversation.

“Hey, Adam” you smile while inviting him in.

“Y/N, did you figure out what the plan is for tomorrow morning?” His hands cross over his chest as his eyes look you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. The only thing you’re wearing is a white tshirt over your lace panties.

He clears his throat, his hand going to his neck. Tyler looks through the crack of the bathroom door. He clenches his fist as he watches your partner taking in your appearance.

Tyler can see how Adam is thinking because it's the same way he is, like he would do anything to get his hands on you. He grits his teeth trying not to give away his hiding spot. He overhears your discussion but his eyes are more focused on you, and your current appearance.

"Hey, has that prick Owens come to bug you yet?” Adam’s voice is playful as you stifle an awkward laugh.

“Uh, not yet” your whole demeanor turns stiff as you try to lead him away from the bathroom door. Tyler rolls his eyes at the insult, he doesn’t like his competitors either, and the sentiment is usually very mutual.

“You know, Adam..” you brush your hand against his arm, continuing to try and lead him toward the door. He gives you a puzzled look as he’s not sure why you’re being so awkward.

Tyler watches you run your hand along his arm, his jaw clenching tight and his knuckles grow white as he tries to refrain from making a sound. He fights the urge to open the door and take you in his arms to pull you away from your partner.

“I’m a little tired..” you grimace while looking up at him, blocking his view to the bathroom. He squints his eyes looking toward the half closed door and he laughs.

“Y/N, is there someone in your bathroom?” His smile grows wide as he looks at your flushed face. “I’ll talk to you in the morning then,” you push him out the door, sighing as you lock it behind him.

Tyler rips the bathroom door open, coming out looking incredibly irritated and frustrated. His demeanor has changed as he stalks toward you, gently pinning you between his body and the wall. He places a hand against the wall next to you, taking a few seconds to look over your body.

“Does he talk to you like that a lot?” His voice is gruff, his usual cocky persona gone as he looks at you.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows furrow as you look up at Tyler, your hands grasping at his sides pulling him closer. “Talk to me like what?” You question. His frown deepens as he looks down at you.

“That goddamn cocky, arrogant bastard was hitting on you and you know it” he grumbles, anger seeping into his voice as he thinks back to how he was looking at you.

”Adam?” Your voice laced with confusion, “No way, he doesn’t think of me like that,” you lean forward, kissing his jaw gently. His eyes close as a low sigh leaves his lips, pulling you even closer.

“He was all but drooling over you right in front of me, there’s no way you didn’t notice it” he grits his teeth.

“Not even,” you kiss down his neck, “Adam is just a friend,” you mumble in between kisses. He lets out another low sigh while tilting his head to the side, giving you more access.

He pulls you on top of him as he sits down on the bed, trying to ignore the obvious and think of you instead. “I want you to be mine.” He whispers, his voice low and possessive. “All mine..” he groans while pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you deepen the kiss, moaning into his mouth as his hands wander your body, pulling you flush against him. You’re straddling his hips, your bare thighs brushing over his rough jeans.

His hands grip your hips tighter, needing you as close as he can manage. One arm wraps around your waist while his other hand grips your thigh. His thumb caresses your soft skin as he begins pulling you back and forth on his lap, trying to get as much pleasure out of the friction you create as he can.

Pulling away from the kiss you moan into his ear, satisfaction filling your body with the rough fabric against your pussy. Your hips match his movements as you grind down on him one hand slipping into his shirt as you feel his tense muscles.

A deep moan leaves his lips as your voice fills his ears, his hands grip you even tighter as you press down on him. His mind clouds with lust as he thinks about how tight you are under your lace panties.

He can’t hold himself back any longer, he leans forward and kisses your neck, sucking, biting and licking the sensitive skin leaving dark marks behind as his lips move down further. His hands spread your thighs, slipping one into the hem of your panties, moving up and down your stomach and trailing to your wetness.

“Oh fuck Tyler,” you moan loudly as his hand spreads your folds, his finger hitting your sensitive clit.

As Tyler's hand continues to explore your body, your mind races with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. But the desire burning within you is too strong to ignore. Tyler's touch ignites a fire deep within you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You can't deny the way his fingers glide across your skin, sending shivers down your spine. It's a heady combination of taboo and forbidden desire that leaves you craving more.

"Fuck," you gasp, your voice laced with need. "I want you inside me."

Tyler smirks against your neck, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine. "Yeah, baby?" he purrs seductively. His words fuel your desire even further as you arch into his touch, wanting to feel him buried deep inside you. But hesitation lingers in the back of your mind - fear that crossing this line will lead to consequences neither of you are prepared for.

You can't help but let out a moan of satisfaction as Tyler's fingers glide inside you. The friction against your clit and the pressure inside you are driving you wild. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, desperate for more.

But just as you're about to reach the edge, a flicker of hesitation crosses your mind. The reality of what you're doing hits you like a ton of bricks, and doubt creeps in. You question your actions, wondering if this is really worth it.

"Fuck," you groan, your voice filled with both pleasure and uncertainty. "Is this really a good idea Tyler?”

Tyler's hand freezes in its motion, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. He knows that he's pushing boundaries, and he doesn't want to push you too far. Especially since he’s been dreaming of this day since he met you.

“Is everything okay?” You know that you’ve already crossed the line so there’s no going back. You nod.

“Yes, please make me cum,” you whine, “I’m so close…” you grind against his hand, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sound of Tyler's voice is music to your ears, fueling your desire even further. Your hips continue their frantic work, desperate for release.

Tyler smirks, reveling in the power he holds over you. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crave him with every fiber of your being. He leans back against the headboard, as he watches you writhing in anticipation. "You're mine," he says with a devilish grin. "And I'm going to make you beg for it."

Your breath hitches at his words, excitement mingling with a hint of apprehension. You know that you're about to surrender yourself completely to this pleasure, but a small part of you wonders if you can handle what's coming next. He lays down underneath you and begins to slip your panties off. He guides your hips towards his face, you hesitate. “Ty, are you sure?”

"Oh, baby," he chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "I'm sure about it. I've been waiting for this moment since the day we met." Your mind races with conflicting thoughts as you hesitate, torn between your desire to give in and the nagging voice of reason in the back of your head. But there's no denying the raw desire that courses through her veins.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's about to come. With trembling hands, you slowly lower yourself onto Tyler's waiting face. The sensation is overwhelming - his warm breath against your clit sends shivers down your spine while his tongue traces delicate patterns along her folds.

Tyler moans softly into your pussy as you begin riding him, grinding against his lips with an intensity that borders on desperation. Your walls tighten around his fingers with each stroke, building up the anticipation until you can no longer hold back.

"Fuck," you moan, your voice strained with pleasure. "I can't. I can't take it anymore."

Tyler smirks up at you, his eyes glinting with triumph as he continues to devour you with fervor. He knows he's pushing your limits, pushing you to the edge of your sanity. But he also knows that this is what they both crave - the raw intensity of their desires colliding head-on.

You arch your back, urging him on with a mix of need and frustration. Your hips move in a desperate rhythm, grinding against his face as you teeter on the precipice of climax.

Tyler senses your impending release and increases his intensity, his tongue swirling around your clit in a relentless dance of pleasure. The sounds of their combined moans fill the room as you edge closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moan, biting down on the headboard in front of you as Tyler continues to hold your ass tight, forcing your hips down against his mouth as he licks up all your cum.

He moves your hips and sets you down on his chest, wiping away the juices left on his chin. “You taste so good baby”, crawling off of him you slip between his thighs. Your fingers fumble with his belt buckle, pulling it off as you undo his jeans. You slide them down his legs and pull his hard cock out of his boxers.

With the passion raging inside of you, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of his erect cock standing proudly before you. The air in the room is thick with desire, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen is almost unbearable. You lean down and kiss the tip of his dick, tasting the precum beading at the top.

Tyler's hands find their way into your hair, guiding you as you take him into your mouth. His hips jerk upwards as you start to suck, the pleasure evident in his deep, guttural moans. You feel a sense of power as you control his pleasure, your own need for release momentarily forgotten. As you deep throat him, your eyes never leave his, watching the storm of emotions playing out across his face.

The rivalry and tension between you two has always been palpable, but in this moment, it's transformed into something far more intimate and explosive. With the head of his cock bobbing against the back of your throat, you begin to suck harder and faster, feeling his thighs tense beneath you. Tyler's grip on your hair tightens, his moans growing louder and more desperate as he nears the brink of climax.

You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth, and you know he's close. You reach down with one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you deep throat him again. His hips buck up, and he lets out a strangled groan, his eyes squeezing shut. You keep going, determined to make him cum, to show him just how much power you have over him at this moment.

You feel his cock swell even more, and with one final, deep suck, Tyler's body goes rigid. He cums hard, filling your mouth with his hot, salty release. You swallow it all down, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and victory. As you pull away, Tyler's eyes open, a look of pure bliss and surprise on his face. He's never felt anything quite like this before, and the intensity of the experience leaves him momentarily speechless.

With a renewed hunger, Tyler sits up, his eyes never leaving yours as he runs his hands up your body, feeling the heat of your skin. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your bare breasts, the rosy tips of your nipples standing erect with arousal. His thumbs graze them, watching as they pebble even further under his touch.

With a groan, he pulls you closer, his mouth claiming one peak while his other hand squeezes the other. You throw your head back, your hips rolling against his hardened length. His tongue flicks and swirls around your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

The feeling is exquisite, and you can't help but let out a whimper of pleasure. He switches to the other, giving it the same rough treatment, his hands roaming your back and sides, leaving trails of fire wherever they go. Your pussy is soaking wet, and you can feel the heat of his cock against your stomach. The anticipation is agonizing, and you start to rock your hips against him, desperate for more.

With a growl of desire, Tyler lines up his cock with your dripping entrance. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he sees is a mirror of his own need. He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, watching as your eyes widen with pleasure.

You gasp as he fills you completely, the sensation of being stretched and filled by your rival's cock sending shockwaves through your body. He starts to move, his strokes long and gentle, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples as he kisses you deeply. The room is filled with the sweet symphony of your muffled moans and the slick sound of skin on skin.

The tension between you two has morphed into something beautiful and consuming. Tyler's movements become more deliberate, his hips rocking into you with a passion that speaks volumes about his feelings. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your body responding to every thrust with a roll of your hips.

As he kisses your neck and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is what you've been craving all along. Tyler's strokes become more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives himself deep inside you. With a final, powerful thrust, he cums inside of you, filling you with his warmth. The room falls silent, save for the sound of the rain and your panting breaths.

For a moment, you just stay like that, your bodies entwined as you both come down from the intense high. Tyler's eyes are closed, his head resting on your shoulder, and his heart hammers against your chest. He pulls out slowly, and you feel a strange sense of loss as he does. But then he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close for a gentle cuddle. It's a stark contrast to the fiery passion that just consumed you both, but somehow, it feels right.

As you lay there, feeling the aftershocks of your shared climax, Tyler whispers something in your ear that makes your heart skip a beat. "You know, Y/N, all these years of chasing storms... I think I've just realized what I've really been after." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. "You. You're all I've ever been chasing."

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You're stunned into silence, unable to believe what you've just heard. But as you look into his eyes, you see the raw truth of his confession, and it hits you like a bolt of lightning. Despite the competition, the rivalry, and the tension that's always been between you, there's something undeniable here. Something that transcends the storms you both pursue.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words to respond. But all you can manage is a soft "Me too, Tyler. Me too." And with that, you both sink into the warmth of the bed, the thunder outside a distant echo of the passion that just roared through you.Your head resting against his chest as the both of you fall into a deep sleep.

#smut #twisters 2 #twisters2024 glen powell #twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens x you smut #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x reader smut #tyler owens reader #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #glenn powell #glen powell #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x reader #twisters smut

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jxwl4k · 7 months ago

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Secret Crush

Plot: Bakugou has a secret crush on Y/N, a healer. After she helps him, Kirishima pushes him to confess his feelings, leading to a new connection between them.

Bakugou Katsuki was known for his explosive personality and fierce determination. But beneath his tough exterior, there was a softer side that only a few people had glimpsed. One person who had unknowingly captured this softer side was Y/N. Y/N was a calm and sweet person whose quirk was like a blessing. She could heal both herself and others, no matter how serious the injury.

The students of U.A. High School admired Y/N for her kindness and healing abilities, and she had a natural way of soothing people. Bakugou, who usually kept to himself, found himself drawn to Y/N. He admired her from afar, never quite able to figure out how to express his feelings. To him, she was like a quiet light in the midst of chaos.

One day, during a training session, Bakugou accidentally injured his arm during a particularly intense exercise. As usual, he tried to brush off the pain, but it was clear he was struggling. Y/N noticed his discomfort from across the room and approached him with a gentle smile.

“Let me help,” Y/N said softly.

Bakugou grunted in response but reluctantly extended his injured arm. As Y/N placed her hands over the wound, a warm glow emanated from her, and the pain seemed to melt away. Bakugou stared at her, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude in his eyes.

Kirishima Eijiro, Bakugou’s close friend, watched the exchange with growing curiosity. He had always been observant of his friends, and it wasn’t lost on him how Bakugou’s usual gruff demeanor seemed to soften around Y/N. Kirishima decided to dig a little deeper, not entirely sure what he would find but certain there was more to Bakugou’s feelings than met the eye.

Later that day, Kirishima cornered Bakugou in the common area of the dorms. “Hey, Bakugou,” he said casually, “you seemed pretty into Y/N today. Everything alright?”

Bakugou, caught off guard, scowled. “What are you talking about? I just needed my arm fixed. Nothing more.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, not buying Bakugou’s tough act. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s not just about her healing you. You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”

Bakugou’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he growled in frustration. “Shut up, shitty hair! It’s not like that. I—” He trailed off, unable to find the right words to express himself.

Kirishima chuckled. “You don’t need to admit it to me. It’s pretty clear that you care about her. Just, maybe try not to be so hard on yourself. If you like her, maybe you should let her know.”

Bakugou huffed but seemed to ponder Kirishima’s words. The next day, during another training session, he found himself once again in need of Y/N’s help. As she healed him, he gathered the courage to speak up.

“Y/N,” he began awkwardly, “I, uh, I just wanted to say thanks. For everything. You’re…you’re really amazing.”

Y/N looked at him with a warm smile. “You don’t need to thank me, Bakugou. I’m just happy to help.”

Bakugou’s heart raced, and he finally managed to admit, “I don’t just mean thanks for the healing. I… I really appreciate you. More than you might know.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Bakugou, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Bakugou shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not very good at this.”

Y/N smiled even wider. “That’s okay. I’m glad you told me.”

From that day on, things between Bakugou and Y/N began to change. They started spending more time together, and Bakugou found himself slowly opening up more. Kirishima watched with a grin, glad to see his friend finally letting his softer side shine through. And while Bakugou and Y/N’s journey was just beginning, it was clear that something special was growing between them, thanks to the gentle healing touch of a kind-hearted hero and the unexpected feelings of a stubborn, explosive one.

#anime #x reader #fanfic #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #jxwl4k #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha #bakugou fluff #mha fluff #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo mha #mha katsuki bakugo

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urfavfrenchgrl · 4 months ago

Text

the stalker

Draco Malfoy x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 5k

ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI | p in v

ᥫ᭡ summary: Draco offers his help after discovering you're the victim of a stalker Notes: been dreaming of this last night and had to write it lmao, enjoy ;)

You were on a week-long class trip for History of Magic, hoping that some distance from the castle would mean a break from the stalker who had been bombarding you with messages. But you couldn’t escape him—each message was more relentless than the last, and despite your efforts to ignore it, his words crept into your thoughts.

Tonight, at dinner, the tables were packed with students buzzing with excitement. There was nowhere else to sit, so you set your tray down beside Draco Malfoy, trying to ignore the lively conversation between him and his friends. Draco Malfoy had captured your attention since fifth year, though he was never the type to be easily approached, always surrounded by his friends Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott. You had long given up on trying to connect with him, resigned to admiring him from afar and content yourself with short interactions, mostly concerning classes.

The noise in the hall buzzed around you, students from every house chatting excitedly, the usual house boundaries slipping away in the lively atmosphere. You sat quietly, listening to the flow of conversation from his side of the table, particularly between Mattheo and Theodore, who were engaged in what could only be described as a ridiculous debate.

“Listen, all I’m saying,” Mattheo was explaining to Theo, a confident smirk on his face, “is that if dragons had wingspans just a little wider, they’d be unstoppable in Quidditch.”

Theodore snorted, rolling his eyes. “Quidditch? If dragons wanted to play Quidditch, mate, they’d turn the whole pitch into a bonfire before the whistle even blew.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, watching them with a look of mild amusement as he leaned back in his seat. “Please, we all know dragons wouldn’t even care about Quidditch—they’d just chase the Seekers and call it a day,” he added, crossing his arms.

Unable to help yourself, you chimed in, “I think you three have really cracked it. I doubt any dragon wants to spend its time chasing a flying walnut.”

Your impulsive words slipping out before you could stop yourself and you already hated yourself for it. The three boys fell silent for a second before Mattheo grinned, not ready for a smartass comment from you.

Draco looked at you, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, a glint of interest sparking in his eyes.

“Is that right?” he drawled, his voice laced with intrigue. His gaze lingered, as though he were sizing you up, and you felt your face warm under his scrutiny. You opened your mouth to respond, but just then, your pocket buzzed with a new message.

You glanced down, and your stomach twisted when you looked at the screen. It was him. Another message, complimenting how you looked today. Your blood ran cold. He was here, somewhere in the crowd, watching you.

The excitement and noise of the room faded as dread settled over you. Fingers trembling, you opened the message app, staring at the dozens of unanswered messages, each one more invasive than the last. Before you could stop him, Draco had leaned in, peering over your shoulder at the screen.

“What the hell…” he muttered, his eyes scanning the rows of messages. His expression darkened as he took in each line, his smirk replaced with a scowl. “Looks like you have an admirer.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, suddenly feeling vulnerable, exposed under his sharp scrutiny. “Just… someone who won’t take a hint,” you replied quietly, hating how small your voice sounded.

Draco’s eyes flicked back to your phone, his jaw clenching. “And he’s here, isn’t he?” His tone was sharp, almost dangerous. He turned, scanning the crowd, and you could feel the tension rolling off him.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “He must be,” you whispered, voice barely audible. ”It’s nothing, he will stop at some point.”

Draco’s gaze softened for a fraction of a second, his jaw still tense. “I have an idea,” he murmured, his voice low and careful, as though he wasn’t used to offering help. And maybe he wasn’t.

Draco Malfoy was known for being distant, aloof, even spoiled, and he usually only involved himself in matters that benefited him. Everyone knew that about him. Yet here he was, offering a solution to a problem that wasn’t his.

Before you could process the surprise, he added, “Meet me in my room after dinner. We’ll sort this out.”

You managed a nod, stunned into silence. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if ensuring you understood, before he turned back to his meal, his face once more impassive. When you finally glanced around, you realized that Theo and Mattheo hadn’t heard a word of your exchange; they were already embroiled in another absurd debate, this time on the merits of using Hippogriffs in place of broomsticks.

The rest of the dinner passed in a haze, your mind reeling from Draco’s unexpected concern and the strange, silent understanding that had passed between you. You found yourself glancing around the room, half-expecting to catch the stalker’s eyes on you, but the crowded hall only seemed to amplify your anxiety. Whoever he was, he was here, and that knowledge sat like a weight on your chest, making it impossible to relax.

After dinner, you slipped quietly from your room, heart hammering as you made your way to Draco’s quarters. The long corridors seemed endless, each step filled with hesitation. It seemed so absurd that Draco would even care enough to intervene, let alone invite you to his room to discuss it. You barely knew him. You weren’t friends or enemies, just two people who had barely spoken before tonight. And yet, here you were.

Finally, you reached his door, hesitating before lifting your hand to knock. It swung open before your knuckles could connect, revealing Draco standing there, his expression unreadable.

“Come in,” he said quietly, stepping back to allow you through the doorway. You slipped past him, your nerves taut as you took in the unexpectedly tidy room. It was the same as yours but was simple yet elegant, every item in place, as if chaos had no place in Draco Malfoy’s world.

He closed the door softly and turned to face you, studying you in that unnerving way of his, as though he could read the tension in your posture.

You swallowed hard and broke the silence. “So… what’s your idea?”

A faint smirk touched his lips as he gestured for you to sit on the edge of his bed, then he settled into the chair across from you, leaning back with an air of confidence. “It’s simple, really. I’ll make sure he understands that you’re… off-limits.”

Your brows furrowed, uncertain what he meant. “How do you plan to do that?”

Draco’s smirk widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ll make it look like you’re already taken. He wouldn’t dare go near you if he thought you were with me.”

Your eyes widened, heat rising to your cheeks. “You mean… pretend that we’re—”

“Precisely,” he cut in, his tone casual. “If he sees us together, he’ll know better than to keep bothering you.”

It was a bold, reckless plan, and yet, as you looked at him, the idea didn’t seem as absurd as it should have.

You shook your head, disbelief evident in your voice. "Nobody will believe this."

Draco raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You think so?" he replied, voice laced with quiet confidence. He leaned forward, his gaze intense, as if daring you to challenge him. "Trust me, Y/N. When I decide to make something believable, people fall in line."

You hesitated, feeling a mix of doubt and curiosity. "Even if they don’t believe it… this is still crazy. And what exactly do you gain from all this, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged, unfazed. "Crazy works. I'm bored and need a good distraction and it’ll keep that creep off your back. Unless, of course, you have a better idea?" His eyes held a glint of challenge, as though he already knew the answer.

Biting your lip, you felt the weight of his gaze. "Fine," you muttered. "But you’d better be convincing."

Draco’s smirk widened, and he leaned back, clearly enjoying the moment. "Oh, I will be. Just try to keep up."

The next morning, you joined the group with your friends, ready for the day’s excursion. You hadn’t said a word to them about the arrangement you’d made with Draco. Explaining it would’ve raised too many questions, and you needed to focus on the task at hand—making your stalker believe you were truly off-limits. As reckless as it seemed, it just might work. Many people, even from other houses, avoided the trio of Slytherin boys like the plague.

As you gathered around with the group, listening to the professors give instructions, you tried to look relaxed. Your mind, however, was anything but. You were busy rehearsing what this new arrangement would look like, how you’d need to play it off naturally—anything to convince the stalker that you weren’t to be messed with anymore.

Lost in thought, you barely registered the footsteps coming up beside you until you felt an arm drape over your shoulders, freezing you in place. Heart pounding, you looked up to see Draco, casually standing at your side, his usual smirk gracing his lips. His arm around you felt firm, natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

“Good morning,” he drawled, his voice low but loud enough for those nearby to hear. The casual intimacy in his tone made your heart skip a beat. He tilted his head toward you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made it clear he was committed to the role.

“Morning,” you replied, forcing yourself to stay calm, although every nerve in your body was buzzing with tension.

He glanced around, as if daring anyone to look, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. Theo and Mattheo were a few steps away, talking to each other but clearly aware of the act Draco was putting on. He leaned in, his lips close to your ear as he murmured, “Just play along, yeah?”

You gave a small nod, barely noticeable, trying to steady your breathing. Your friends were now glancing over, wide-eyed, and you could feel their surprise even without looking directly at them. Draco straightened up, keeping his arm firmly around you as the group started to move forward.

As you walked, he continued to chat casually, his presence beside you both intimidating and strangely comforting. You could feel the eyes of other students on you, and though it was uncomfortable, you knew it was exactly what you needed.

One of your friends finally gathered the courage to ask, her voice laced with curiosity. “Um… since when are you and Malfoy… close?”

Draco chuckled, giving her a look that could only be described as smug. “What, can’t a guy enjoy his morning with good company?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as your friend stammered, glancing between the two of you.

You swallowed, trying to maintain your composure. “It’s… a recent development,” you managed, casting Draco a sideways look. He seemed to relish your friends’ reactions, his hand moving to rest more firmly on your shoulder.

As the tour continued, he kept you close, his presence undeniable. Every once in a while, he’d glance around, subtly scanning the crowd, as though daring anyone—especially your stalker—to challenge this new reality.

Finally, during a break, he leaned in again, his voice low and almost amused. “Looks like they’re starting to believe it. And judging by the looks we’re getting, I’d say our friend might be getting the hint, too.”

You met his gaze, both relieved and slightly unnerved. “Let’s hope so,” you whispered.

The trip was nearing its end, and Draco had played his role flawlessly. A gentle kiss on the top of your head here, a protective hand at your waist there—just enough to keep up appearances but never enough to feel truly real. At least for you. You hadn’t received a single message from your stalker since the start of the arrangement, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of calm, even safety.

Tonight was the last night, and the teachers, worn out from days of guiding tours, allowed the students to gather and celebrate. They turned a blind eye to the alcohol discreetly brought by a few of the older students, letting the atmosphere stay light and carefree. The laughter was contagious, and for once, students from different houses were mingling effortlessly, the usual rivalries put aside for the night.

You found yourself sitting beside Draco, strangely comfortable despite the role you continued to play. You shared a drink, and the conversation between you became more relaxed, more genuine. Draco’s usual reserved demeanor had softened, and under the influence of the alcohol, he seemed more open, even smiling and teasing in a way you’d never seen.

At one point, he shot you a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint, amused smile. "I have to say, you’re a much better actress than I expected."

You shrugged with a laugh. “And you hide your true colors well. Who would’ve thought the great Draco Malfoy could be so… attentive?”

He raised his glass, a glint of mischief lighting up his eyes. “We all have our secrets,” he murmured before taking a sip, his gaze holding yours a bit too long. Under the influence of the alcohol, the words carried a different weight, and the air between you grew heavier, charged.

Feeling bold, a daring edge sharpening your words, you grinned. “You know, for a fake relationship, you’ve been surprisingly convincing, Malfoy. Almost feels real sometimes.”

He arched an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly, as if the words were meant only for you. He leaned a bit closer, his gaze dropping to your lips for the briefest of moments before flicking back up to meet your eyes. “You want this to feel more real, Y/N?” His voice was low, challenging, the smirk slipping into something darker, more intense.

Without another word, he set down his glass and reached for you, guiding you onto his lap with a smooth, assured motion. His hands settled at your waist, fingers pressing firmly, as if he wanted to make sure you stayed close. His gaze held yours, his eyes searching, as though daring you to pull away.

But you didn’t move. The air between you was charged, and with your heart pounding, you leaned in, ready for whatever was about to happen.

“Does this feel real enough for you now?” he murmured, his voice rough and low, his hand slipping over your thigh, maintaining the firm, steady contact that sent heat rushing through you. You could feel desire building within you, but you couldn’t tell if he felt the same.

“Not yet…” you whispered, biting your lip, the alcohol making you feel bolder than ever. You wanted more, though you weren’t sure what exactly—just that you knew he could give it to you.

A smirk tugged at his lips as his hand pressed more firmly against your thigh. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned closer, his face brushing the curve of your neck, lips grazing your skin. Slowly, he pressed a gentle kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, a shiver rippling down your spine.

“And now?” he murmured before sucking lightly, drawing a soft sigh from your lips, the warmth of his touch making it impossible to think of anything but him.

You could feel him growing hard beneath you, pressing into you, a sure sign that he wanted you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the heat of his touch and the growing bulge under you left little doubt about what was on his mind.

“Not yet…” you replied again, your voice barely above a whisper. You were playing with fire, but his lips moving against your neck, his hand slowly sliding higher up your thigh, sent a thrill through you that was hard to resist.

Draco’s smirk widened as he held you closer, his fingers tracing light circles on your thigh, inching closer and closer. His breath was warm against your neck, and he tilted his head, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispered, “Careful, or you might get exactly what you’re asking for, Y/N.”

You swallowed, your own breathing becoming uneven, his words sending a shiver through you that only intensified the desire building between you. But you kept your composure, tilting your head to meet his gaze, your eyes challenging.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” you whispered, surprising even yourself with the boldness in your voice.

That was all it took. Draco’s gaze darkened, his smirk fading as his hand slid further up, his touch firm, claiming. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that started slow, testing, but quickly deepened, his hand at the back of your neck pulling you closer, as if he didn’t want to leave any space between you. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his mouth moving against yours with an urgency that made your heart race.

His hands, once tentative, were now confident, exploring your body with a hunger that left you breathless. One hand stayed on your thigh, pulling you even tighter against him, while the other tangled in your hair, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

He pulled back for just a second, his breathing uneven, a fierce intensity in his eyes.

Without a word, Draco lifted you effortlessly, carrying you down the corridor toward his room. His hold was firm, steady, and each step seemed to increase the tension pulsing between you. He pushed open the door, slipping inside and pressing you against the wall, his body pinning yours, a barrier between you and everything else. The only thing that mattered now was the undeniable heat radiating from him, the intensity in his gaze as he looked at you, almost as if he were savoring this moment he’d waited for.

His hands tightened slightly on your hips, his fingers splayed as he held you in place, his face inches from yours. His breaths were heavy, his gaze dark and intense as it drifted down to your lips, and then back up to meet your eyes.

“You’re really not afraid, are you?” he murmured, his voice low, filled with a mix of desire and restraint. His tone was almost a warning, as if he were giving you one last chance to turn back.

But you weren’t afraid. Not in the least. The desire in his eyes only fueled your own, and without hesitation, you brought your hands up, tangling them in his hair as you pulled him closer, leaving no room for doubt.

Draco’s smirk faded, replaced by something deeper, something raw. His lips captured yours, firm, urgent, and you could feel the need behind every movement, every touch. His hands roamed down, pressing you even closer as his mouth moved against yours with a fierce intensity that left you breathless.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand sliding up to cradle your face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, though his voice made it clear that stopping was the last thing he wanted.

You held his gaze, a small smile on your lips as you whispered, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Draco’s lips continued their path down your neck, leaving you breathless with each lingering kiss. His hand slid beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your skin with an electric touch that made your body arch toward him instinctively. His hand moved with a deliberate slowness until it found your breast, cupping it firmly.

His thumb brushed over your sensitive skin, sending a spark of warmth through you as he began to massage, his grip alternating between gentle and possessive.

He squeezed, his fingers exploring, as if he were savoring every reaction, every subtle movement of your body. His mouth returned to yours, capturing your sighs and gasps, deepening the kiss as his hand continued its deliberate, teasing rhythm. His other hand remained on your waist, keeping you steady against him, each touch intensifying the pull between you.

Every movement felt purposeful, and with each squeeze and brush of his fingers, the heat between you built, leaving you breathless, your mind clouded by nothing but the feeling of him pressed against you, as if he were determined to learn every inch of you.

“Does this feel real enough now?” he murmured, his voice rough, a hint of dark challenge beneath his words.

You met his gaze, defiance glinting in your eyes, unwilling to give in so easily. “No,” you replied, your voice soft but daring, laced with a hunger that matched his own.

A low growl escaped his lips as he tightened his grip on your waist, his hand slipping under your skirt, fingers tracing a path along your thigh. Slowly, he reached the edge of your underwear, hooking his fingers beneath the fabric. With a swift, deliberate tug, he drew it down, letting it slide down your legs until it pooled at your ankles.

He leaned in, his mouth claiming the delicate skin of your neck, leaving warm, lingering kisses interspersed with gentle bites. He took his time, squeezing your breast with a blend of tenderness and possession, his thumb circling over your sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from your lips. His free hand slipped between your legs, fingers exploring your warmth with a deliberate slowness, tracing every inch of your skin with reverent attention.

A soft moan escaped you, and he leaned into your ear, his breath hot as he murmured, “Seems real enough to me, sweetheart. Look at how ready you are for me…” His voice was low, teasing, each word a seductive promise. "Such a beautiful mess."

Your breath hitched, heart racing, and all you could manage was a soft, pleading whisper. “Draco, please…”

But he merely chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, his fingers continuing their languid exploration, building the tension between you with every touch, every lingering caress. The night felt endless, and all that mattered was the intensity of his gaze, his hands, the feeling of him claiming you in a way that left no doubt in your mind—this was as real as it could possibly be.

Draco’s lips trailed down the line of your jaw, his mouth ghosting over your skin with maddening patience. His fingers moved with practiced skill, sliding inside and exploring the warmth between your legs in slow, measured strokes, each touch designed to draw out a reaction, to bring you to the edge while keeping you wanting more.

“Still doesn’t feel real enough?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur, his breath hot against your ear. His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. “Tell me, love… what do I need to do to convince you?”

The words hung between you, filled with a daring challenge, but all you could manage was a soft gasp as his fingers pressed deeper, his touch firm and unrelenting. Your hands gripped his shoulders, steadying yourself as he claimed you in every way, each movement of his hand calculated, purposeful.

“Draco…” you breathed, his name slipping from your lips, almost a plea. You could feel your body responding to him, the heat building, your pulse quickening with each touch, each soft kiss he trailed down the curve of your neck.

“Not yet,” he whispered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as his fingers slowed, keeping you right on the edge. “You wanted more… so I’m giving you more.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, deepening the kiss, his hand never faltering as he continued to tease, to draw out the tension until every nerve in your body was attuned to him. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to his control, his desire to make you feel everything, to leave no doubt in your mind that this was real, that he was as consumed by this as you were.

Draco’s mouth pressed against yours, deepening the kiss, his hands moving with purpose as they explored the curves of your body. His fingers found the hem of your skirt, brushing over your thigh, before reaching down to undo his belt with a swift, practiced motion. The quiet click and rustle of fabric as he unfastened his trousers sent a thrill through you, anticipation building with every second.

With a firm hand on your waist, he pulled you closer, pressing you back against the wall as his gaze locked with yours, intense and dark with desire. He leaned in, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing kisses as his hand guided your leg to wrap around his waist. His fingers gripped your thigh to raise it, pressing into your skin as he aligned himself, his other hand steadying you.

“You wanted this to feel real?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you met his gaze, nodding, unable to find the words.

With a slow, steady motion, he pressed into you, filling the space between you with a heat that left you breathless. His movements were controlled at first, each thrust deep and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to his size, to feel the closeness, the intensity of every inch. Your head fell back against the wall, a soft gasp escaping as he began to move, his rhythm building, more urgent with each passing moment.

His hand moved up, wrapping up around your neck, and his mouth captured yours in a series of kisses that alternated between tender and fierce, each one conveying a blend of desire and possession.

Draco’s grip on your thigh tightened as he pressed deeper, his movements growing bolder, each thrust sending waves of sensation through you. He pulled back slightly, his grey eyes meeting yours, his breath heavy as he whispered, “Look at me, Y/N.” His voice was a mix of command and vulnerability, as if he wanted you to see every emotion he was hiding beneath his usual guarded facade.

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, and the intensity there made your pulse quicken. His hand slipped up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

“You feel this?” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent. “It’s real, every damn inch of it.”

Your lips parted, the words catching in your throat as he leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and fierce, a contrast to the urgency in his movements. The heat between you intensified, his rhythm steady but unyielding as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands traveled down, gripping your waist firmly as he moved, pulling you against him with a need that left no doubt in your mind. The tension, the build-up between you two over the past week, all of it seemed to culminate here, now, with every touch, every breath you shared.

Your head fell back, and he pressed a line of kisses along your jaw, his voice a rough whisper in your ear, “Fuck Y/N, look at the mess you’re making.. Moaning so loud for me.”

A shiver ran through you, his words only adding fuel to the fire already consuming you. His hands moved again, his touch both firm and careful, as if he was savoring every moment. You could feel the restraint he held, the control he was fighting to maintain, as though he wanted to draw out every second, make it last.

“Draco…I-” you breathed, voice laced with both urgency and longing.

He met your gaze, his expression softening just a fraction. “Say my name again,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Draco, I’m so close..” you whispered back, your voice trembling as his hand moved to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that left you dizzy, fully enveloped in the moment.

As the intensity between you reached its peak, Draco’s movements grew more urgent, each thrust more demanding, as if he was determined to close any remaining distance between you. His forehead pressed against yours, his gaze locked with yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, punctuating his words with every thrust inside you, “You’re driving me fucking insane, Y/N. Fucking. Insane.”

Draco’s lips found yours again, and this time, his kiss was possessive, almost reverent, as if he was savoring every second, every reaction he drew from you.

The rhythm between you intensified, each thrust drawing you closer to the edge, the tension building and building until it was impossible to hold back. His name slipped from your lips, soft at first, but growing louder as the wave of pleasure washed over you, consuming you completely. “Fuck Y/N, I’m gonna-” Your breath caught as his gaze held yours, his eyes dark and filled with a tenderness that took you by surprise. You felt yourself let go completely, your body responding to his, surrendering fully to the moment, and he followed, his own resolve breaking as he buried his face against your neck, shooting his hot seed deep into you.

As you came down, Draco’s hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked at you, his eyes softened in a way you’d never seen before. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his breath steadying.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence thick with the weight of what had just happened. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice a low murmur. “Still doesn’t feel real enough?”

You shook your head with a smile, leaning into his touch. “More than real.”

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