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rinhaler · 2 months ago

Note

just had the crazy thought in the middle of trader joes🫣 bf!ino begging reader to let sukuna fuck her infront of him😵‍💫 i just know sukuna would agree to the idea so fast😭

but anyways i hope you're doing alright❤️

as soon as I read this request I went feral btw I haven't written anything this quickly in a while KGHJFLSGHSKA thank you so much for this nonnie I hope u enjoy and I hope ur doing well 💕

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dubcon, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby, etc.), cucking, cuck!ino, coercion, dry humping, male masturbation, daddy!kink, oral m+f receiving, head pushing, fingering, calls your pussy 'she', overstimulation, vaginal sex, hair pulling, creampie, squirting.

words: 3.9k

He’s waiting.

He’s been waiting since he got to your apartment.

You and Takuma have never been coy around each other, no matter who’s around. What was meant to be a chill movie night with a few drinks and some weed has really just been you and him making out on the couch, dizzied by the alcohol and drugs coursing through your system.

And still, Sukuna has been waiting.

Waiting for his friend to ask what he’s been waiting to ask.

“I love you…” you whisper, or at least you think you do. It’s louder than intended. What was meant to be breathy love language reserved solely for your partner has garnered Sukuna’s attention, too.

And rather than your boyfriend returning your words. He looks at you, no, through you. His pink haired friend looks at him coldly out of the corner of his eye.

Waiting.

You’re bold, though. When he doesn’t speak right away, you grab his face and pinch his cheeks until his lips are puckering. His warm brown eyes gaze down at you, his concentration fully broken from Sukuna, now.

“I said: I love you, Takuma.” you repeat.

“Baby…” he grins and bites his lip before kissing you softly. “You know I love you too.” he assures you, his head lowering to kiss along your jawline. You can’t repress the gentle moan you emit as you feel his hand travel up your baggy t-shirt and hold your side just below your breast, his thumb stroking across your ribs.

“How much?” you wonder, eyes heavy and bloodshot as you wait for a response. He looks at you again, a little puzzled that you’d even ask.

“How much?” he quirks his brow. “How much do you love me, baby? Tell me… Wanna hear ya,” he smirks.

“More than anything… I’d do anything for you, Takuma. I love you s’much.” you say slowly, pridefully. Adoration interspersed with your casual tone makes his cock throb. His eyes are full as he hears you tell him with ease how much you love him.

Before he can say anything, though, Ino’s eyes stray at the sound of his friend stirring in his spot on the couch. He’s hunched over, lighter in one hand and spliff in the other. He lights it, almost too quickly, and he’s soon leaning back again. His red eyes stare daggers at Ino, his expression is unreadable, but Ino knows the intent behind his glare.

He's waiting, but he’s losing patience.

“Maybe we should go to bed early.” you hint to your boyfriend, wiggling your eyebrows at him in hopes he’ll understand your meaning.

He does.

But instead of looking excited, or interested, he looks between you and your friend. Sukuna exhales a hearty plume of smoke into the air, resting the crown of his head back onto the couch as he stares at the ceiling. The movie is of no interest to any of you, now. You want some alone time with Takuma, and Sukuna is considering leaving.

“W-Wait,” he mutters, cupping your face with both hands and searching your loving gaze. “Anything, really? You mean it?”

“… Well… yeah. I- I guess, yeah. Is something wrong?” you wonder, worry and paranoia flooding through you before you know it. You can feel your heart beginning to beat faster, until his thumbs gently rub against your cheeks. You’re instantly soothed, and further relaxed when you feel a gentle press of your boyfriend’s lips against your own.

“No, baby, nothin’. You’re perfect. You’re always so perfect f’me…” he says, kindly, and you can’t stop the cheesy grin that works its way across your face when you hear him. You lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls away suddenly. “There’s… something… I wanna do. Well, I wanna try.” he explains.

You sit up a little as you look at him, curiosity filling you. You briefly look at Sukuna, almost forgetting he's there until you hear him toss his lighter onto the coffee table.

“If you wanna fuck tonight. Maybe we can try it now…” he starts, sheepishly. His words become dry in his throat and lost in the atmosphere. You’re a little embarrassed that he’s proposing something about your sex life in front of your mutual friend, but you try and ignore his presence. You’re all high, it doesn’t really matter.

“What is it, baby?” you whisper. You close the distance between the two of you, kissing his cheek repeatedly as you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s a passionate bid to give him the confidence he needs to tell you what’s on his mind.

There’s no delicate way for him to ask you what he wants to ask. It’s so perverse, so lewd and debauched. He feels guilty for even thinking it. But it’s rotting his brain.

He keeps breathing, his words dissipating on his tongue as he finds and loses the ability to say what’s he’s dying to say.

“C’mon, baby… you can tell me.” you smile. You start to get nervous again as you can tell he’s wrestling with his thoughts. You have no idea what he could be thinking. It’s a worry, though, thinking your boyfriend has some depraved kink he’s about to spill in front of you as well as his friend.

Why is he doing this now?

“I um… fuck. I— babe, I just. I think it would be… f-fun. Uhhhh…”

“Ask her already.” a dark growl reverberates through your body as you’re once again reminded you aren’t alone. Sukuna stands to his feet, bending down to stub out his joint before he moves behind you. You gasp as you feel his fingers on your jaw forcing your head in place as he keeps your eyes on Takuma’s. “Look at your girl and ask her your dirty favour, pussy.”

Ino gulps, eyes flitting between yours and his. And still, even now, he can’t bring himself to ask. Sukuna gives him time. Plenty of time, before ultimately scoffing. You whimper a little as your head jerks to face him. His hand squeezes your face, not to dissimilarly to what you had done to Takuma moments prior. Your lips puckering as he levels his face with your own.

“He has a weird fetish, princess. He wants to see another man fuck the love of his life. Ain’t that strange?” he smirks, darkly.

You think you’ve misheard him. He lets go of your face and you snap your gaze to see Ino. He’s blushing furiously and has seemingly lost the ability to speak. He can barely even look at you. And that is enough proof, but still.

“Really?” you ask, you try your best to stay calm. It’s a little stern, but casual enough to not seem like a big deal.

“… Y-Yeah. AGH!” he yells as your hand slaps across his face, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. He looks at you, he seemed ready to yell at you until he sees tears welling in your eyes. “B-Baby? Don’t… Don’t hate me, please. I—”

“You— did you invite him here tonight for this? You told him before me… How—”

“Wait, wait. It wasn’t like that!” he stops you. “We were just, ugh, what was it? Oh, porn! We were talking about different categories and I said I’d been watching some, y’know, cuck shit. S’dumb, I’m so sorry. But I just watched it because I was curious and then I started thinking about it everyday and I thought about us trying it ‘n I just said all that shit to him when I was stoned.”

“So?” you respond. “You invited him over ‘n got me drunk and high ‘n thought I’d just say yes?!”

“No. Well… maybe… a little…” he says, voice trailing off as he thinks about the whole thing a little further. “Shit, I was scared to ask. Because it’s fucking weird and I know it’s weird. I feel like a fucking freak for this, baby. What kinda guy wants to see another dude fuck his girl? It’s weird.”

You don’t speak again for a while, letting him simmer in what he’s saying. It’s not that you are outwardly against it, but you’re not intoxicated enough to ignore how wrongly he went about this. And it’s hard to ignore Sukuna’s looming figure beside you, he’s so intimidating without even trying.

“… Please don’t hate me.” he mumbles as he stares down at his feet. “It’s been driving me crazy, y’know. Thinking about how hot you’d look like that.”

“It’s your decision.” Sukuna says, dropping to the balls of his feet to look at you again. “It’s just sex, sweetheart. I can make you feel good, ‘n you’ll make me feel good. And I think it’ll make that perverted boyfriend of yours feel good, too.”

You look into his eyes as he speaks. It’s not like you’ve never thought of it before. He’s a giant, he’s huge and he has the aura of a man who knows how to fuck. You aren’t dissatisfied in your sex life with Takuma in the least. But everyone has fantasies, right? Everyone has thoughts on what they might be missing out on.

“B-Baby? Please. Just once, I just wanna try it once.” Takuma tells you. It’s a little pathetic how desperate he sounds. And for some twisted reason, it turns you on. How he’s begging to see you receive pleasure at the hands of another man.

You’ve somehow managed to romanticise this depravity. Because now, you feel good about this. Whether intentional or not, Takuma Ino has made you feel like a goddess.

And so, dumbly, you find yourself nodding. His eyes light up, confusion, elation, and unadulterated lust flows through him. You’re caught off guard as Sukuna cups your face with one hand, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before grabbing under the bend of your knee and letting it roam up the back of your thigh.

“N-Now?!” you ask in a panic, breaking the kiss before he returns it once more.

“Yes. Now.” Sukuna tells you, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to the couch he had been sitting on. You’re straddling him, rolling your hips unashamedly as he smirks into your kiss. “You’re soaked, princess.” he says. It’s quiet, but loud enough for Ino to hear.

He palms himself over his sweats as he watches you both, a sultry moan leaves you as you feel rough hands squeeze the fat of your tits over your t-shirt. He tugs at your nipple, licking into your mouth as he pulls away.

“Suck daddy’s cock, baby. Heard you’re a pro.” he grins.

You shuffle off of his lap and between his legs. He goes to undo his belt before you beat him to sit. He interlocks his fingers behind his head as he watches you. He swears if he had blinked he would have missed how quickly you freed his length. Your eyes bulge as it springs out from it’s denim prison and you pull down his jeans and underwear in tandem.

He doesn’t give you any time to marvel at his gargantuan size before he’s lacing his fingers through your hair and guiding his cock to your lips. He’s massive, you feel it as each agonising inch sinks into your mouth and nudges at the back of your throat.

He moans boisterously as you struggle to accommodate him, head rolling back as he looks up at the ceiling above. He chuckles, pushing your head again and again to set a pace for himself, barely considering your lung capacity or pleasure in the least.

His eyes are heavy, lust drunk and purposeful as he looks down at you. Your own are watery and pathetic. You’re overwhelmed and yet you can’t help but chase a desperate desire to please him. You want to impress him, you want him to feel good.

You’re both reminded of your actual boyfriend’s presence when he moans pathetically. Your teeth graze Sukuna’s cock and he hisses at the sensation.

“Focus on me.” he tells you, voice gravelly and intimidating before his eyes move to look at Ino. “Are you really getting off on this? Fucking pervert. Your girlfriend’s choking on my cock and you look like you’re gonna blow your load. Y’think that’s normal?”

“S-Shut up.” he moans softly, the all too familiar sound of sticky, aroused skin fapping fills the room.

You feel your cunt grow wetter by the second. The intense knowledge of everything going on in the room is sending your self esteem into overdrive. You’re doing it for Takuma. And you want to make Sukuna proud.

“Here…” Sukuna grabs his phone. You panic as you see him point it down at you, unwillingly to let him keep video evidence of this twisted transgression. He holds your head down with ease with his free hand, and it’s all you can do to focus on breathing through your nose. You begin to calm as you feel another phone ring behind you. “Answer.” Sukuna instructs.

Ino scrambles to answer the incoming call, moaning further when he sees the perfect first person view of your mouth stuffed full of his best friend’s dick.

“Give him a show baby, he likes it.” Sukuna growls, cupping the crown of your head as he allows you to bob your head at your own pace. “You really are a good little cocksucker. Might have to keep you. Doesn’t she look pretty, Ino?”

“S-So pretty, baby. Fuck, look at ya…” he breathes, slowing down on his own pleasure so he doesn’t cum too fast.

“Look at her squirming, think she’s enjoying all the attention. Is your little pussy dripping ‘cause you’re our pretty star tonight?” he smirks. And at that, you nod. You can’t help yourself. Despite you being the one to please him, you’re completely at his mercy. “Mmm, think I wanna see for myself.” he tells you, yanking you away from his length by your roots.

You gasp, breathless with an aching jaw as you get used to your mouth being your own again. He coos at you, red eyes softening as he admires your drool soaked face.

“Look at what I’ve done to your girl.” Sukuna says as he manhandles you.

He picks you up and turns you so that you’re able to make eye contact with your boyfriend. Ino looks up from his phone so he can observe you with his own eyes. Your eye makeup has streaked beautifully down your cheeks. Your lips are swollen and dampened with slick drool and precum. He has to stop touching himself completely when he looks into your shimmering eyes. They’re filled with water and emotion, the sight of you is better than he ever imagined.

“Say thank you, sweetheart.” Sukuna commands and he firmly grips your jaw. “Gotta say thank you to your boyfriend for letting you have the time of your life with me.”

“T-Thank you, Takuma… thank you.”

“Aw… you’re both a little pathetic, hm? But that’s okay.” Sukuna snarls as he picks you up again, tossing you onto the couch like you’re nothing. You’re a weightless object for him to do with as he pleases. “Let me see you, princess. I want a taste.” he explains. Soon enough, your panties and shorts disappear from your body and he’s face to face with your bare cunt.

He grabs your hand, forcefully shoving his phone into it so you can show your boyfriend what he’s doing.

It’s humiliating.

Your whole body runs hot as he loops his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs. A powerful moan rips through you as he gently pulls up the hood of your clit and targets it with a darted tongue.

Tears spill over your eyes as you try to close your legs, much to his dismay, and he pries them apart with ease. He doesn’t let up, your whole body trembling uncontrollably as he continues his assault.

You hold the phone with one hand as the other cards through his pretty pink locks. And at that, he moans. The timbre of his voice vibrates against your skin.

“B-Baby?” Ino speaks, quietly, “Feel good?”

“Fucking. Amazing.” you announce, unashamedly. Your toes curl as you feel two thick fingers delve into your hot cunt. It’s too much. You feel like you might burst as his fingers curl and you try desperately to escape the onslaught. But one muscular bicep around your thigh is more than enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.

“You’re staying right here, sweetheart.” he tells you casually before looking up at you. “You won’t cum if you run away from me.”

“Hnnnng, fuck.” you respond, embarrassingly. All semblance of thought leaves you in the form of slippery slick pooling out of your cunt as he finger fucks you relentlessly. He smirks as he watches, slurping up your juices with obscene satisfaction.

“Pretty little pussy, she’s flutterin’ for me. Just cum for daddy, know you wanna.” he grins.

You’re barely able to think as he immediately swipes his tongue over your throbbing clit. His fingers work in tandem to hammer against your g-spot before you begin to squirm uncontrollably.

“Fu- nngh! D-Daddy! Haah~!” you cry out repeatedly, chanting a slew of daddy’s before you feel your body start to crumble and fall slack. You pant heavily, the phone you were holding a distant memory as the only thing on Ino’s screen is a shot of the ceiling.

He’s holding back, again. Ogling your body as he sees sweat droplets beading on your skin. Your entire body is relaxed, calm. You’re wholly spent and satisfied for the evening, you do nought but watch Sukuna repeatedly pepper kisses on your inner thighs.

“You look happy,” he tells you as he looks up.

“You’re… you’re good at that…” you say, finally feeling shame wash over you as you realise you just came on your boyfriend’s best friend’s face. “That was—”

“Was? Didn’t say we’re done, baby.” he cuts you off. Before you can ask what he means, he’s pulling you onto the ground with him by your wrist. “I didn’t get to cum yet, did you really think we were through here?”

“S-Shit, sorry!” you gasp, utterly powerless as he bends you over the coffee table. Even if your body wasn’t so relaxed, you’d still be a ragdoll to him.

“He needs to see your face while I ruin this beautiful cunt.” he smirks, parting your legs with his muscular thigh. He tuts as he observes your form, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “What is this, baby? I know no one else has made you cum that hard but you need to look pretty when you have an audience.” he explains.

He pulls your hair aggressively until your back is in a beautiful arch. Your fingers grip desperately onto the sides of the coffee table, your tits squashed against the cool glass breaks your body temperature as you’re unsure of whether you’re freezing cold or boiling hot.

Your body soon flushes again as you feel Sukuna guide his heavy tip to your entrance. He teases your hole repeatedly, the sticky tacking sound is the only thing that can be heard; alongside Ino’s self-pleasure.

He grunts as he slams into you with a powerful thrust. Your eyes cross and you feel as though you could pass out from the pressure brewing in your core.

“Fuuuuuuck, tiny princess cunt’s a tight li’l hugger.” he tells you before holding onto your hips with a bruising grip. Your ass and thighs ripple with each brutal deliverance from his desperate humping.

This, now, isn’t for you. If you feel pleasure, that is a bonus. You feel it in the way he savagely pounds into your wet walls, you are his toy that is designed to make him cum.

“You look so pretty, babe. D-Does it feel good? Y’look so fucked out.” Ino smirks, biting his lip as his fist becomes a blur. “Can you— describe it for me, baby.” he requests.

“Unfff, f-fuck. He’s— I feel— him— here.” you tell him before pointing to your throat. He lets out a guttural moan at that, and if your mind wasn’t already so hazy, you’d be amazed that he was truly getting off on this.

“Glad he’s making you feel s’good, babe. Knew he would…” he trails off. “Are you gonna let him fill you up?” he asks, face dropping a little as he hears a scoff from Sukuna.

“Tch. Sick bastard.” he says in response. He bends over, his sweat coated skin presses into your back and he continues to desperately hump into you like a primal animal. He moves your hair aside as he sensually bites and kisses your earlobe. You could just about cum when you feel him lick the skin behind your ear, tangled with an amalgamation of eager, determined moans. “He wants me to breed you like an animal. Would ya like that, princess? Can daddy fill your precious little pussy up?”

You nod, quickly. Your vision blurry as you think you might be genuinely about to pass out from the pleasure. You’re utterly blinded by it. The feeling of his cock bullying itself into you and repeatedly kissing your sweet spot is like no other feeling you’ve experienced before.

And still, even in your cock drunk mind, you can’t help but wonder how you’ll ever be able to live without feeling him inside of you again.

He pulls your body up with his own, wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing just enough to keep you barely conscious. You’re pointlessly grabbing for anything to grab onto, but there’s nothing. His free hand rubs your clit vigorously, and you know you’re soon to be a goner.

“That’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl, milk daddy’s cock jus’ like that. Juuus’ like that. So tight f’me, mmmpf, so fucking tight for me. Perfect pussy’s not gonna let me go. Gonna cum with me, yeah? Come on, cum on daddy’s cock, make a big mess. Umpf, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

He practically roars, feeling not an ounce of shame as he fucks his thick, heavy load into you. You’re no better, though, whining pathetically as a waterfall gushes from between your legs for the first time in your life. It arouses Ino more than anything ever has in his entire life, so at that, he finally let’s go. Coating his hand in shimmering white globs as he watches Sukuna forcefully make out with you through your high.

Sukuna pulls you back with him as he sits on the couch with you on his lap, pulling out of your hot, sullied cunt as the mixture of clear liquid and pearlescent sperm drips from your throbbing hole. He slaps his cock against your clit, your entire body jolting with each repeated smack.

“Did you— fuck, baby, that was perfect… Did you have fun?” Ino asks, almost breathlessly as he wipes the mess from his hand on his sweatpants.

Sukuna looks up at your near lifeless body, you don’t even have the energy to look at either of them let alone speak. He smirks, at that, before turning his attention to Ino.

“Don’t think she’s ever been fucked so good in her life,” Sukuna grins. “I don’t think you’re gonna have a girlfriend for much longer.”

662 notes · View notes

bitchlessdino · 1 month ago

Text

boo-ty call 👻 (m)

Pairing: perverted ghost!jeonghan x cute neighbor!seungkwan x afab!reader Genre: supernatural comedy, smut Word count: 11.1k tags: a lot of puns, human body possession (con and dubcon), threesome by definition if you count a ghost, mention of food, cunnilingus, some degrading (slut), light spanking, unprotected sex Summary: As far as unwanted roommates go, your ghostly companion was one you never anticipated. But when this specter began to assert himself and meddle in your dating life—or lack thereof—you started to reconsider your stance; maybe having a roommate wasn’t so bad after all. Especially if he's helping you get laid. author note: it's sluttober! when did i last write anything and have it posted. that's crazy sorry about that yall, but i'm really trying my best to be more active, but ngl its hard. life really gets in the way and we have to remind ourselves to take a back sometimes, even from our hobbies. Thank you to @multi-kpop-fanfics and @seokgyuu for beta reading and helping me perfect this masterpiece and thank you to you guys for your patience. Enjoy! Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone

You should’ve known better than to find an apartment listing in the same place where people get lied to about the types of dogs they’re buying. To this day, your aunt is convinced her Chorkie is supposed to be pure Maltese.

Meanwhile, you’re about 99.999% sure your apartment is haunted, and whatever ghost this was, they really liked stealing your underwear. It should’ve scared you. It should’ve driven you away and rushed you out to find a newer, less haunted place to live. But it was cheap, fully furnished, and came with a walkable laundromat and a family-owned market with homegrown tomatoes. Nothing could beat that.

You could tolerate it. It was better than mooching off your parents, who ask every five minutes when you’ll get a 'real' job. Living away from your parents was necessary for your sanity and a dead pervert is much preferable to a live one.

“Can you fucking stop leaving the bathroom light on? I get that haunting is your job and all, but you’re not the one paying the electricity bill.”

If anyone could see you talking to thin air right now, they would’ve had you committed.

“And while we’re at it, could you stop stealing the lacy underwear? They’re gifts, and I don’t wear them, but I might someday, so leave me the option!”

The hallway light flickered before it finally stopped and swift air breezed past you in response, but no returning underwear. You let out a frustrated sigh and shove the rest of your dirty clothes into the hamper before proceeding with laundry day.

You’ve never seen any part of them, yet you’re always aware of their presence. It was creepy at first, but that quickly turned into annoyance when you realized how limited their grasp on the living world truly was—just a bit of theft and light tinkering. It was manageable, but you still felt uneasy knowing you couldn’t change without feeling watched.

“I’ll be back. Don’t piss me off more when I do. It is not my week.”

Not a day had passed since you two became acquainted that he didn’t find some way to bother you, but there were definite perks to living in hell’s best apartment lease. As your feet scraped across the tiled floor, the afternoon sun briefly flushed your skin, and a familiar flutter stirred in your chest as the thought of something popped into your head. Instead of the usual contempt, longing filled your chest as you made your way to the machine.

“What do we have today, m’dear?”

Your ears perked up at the sound of his voice, and you pretended to nonchalantly turn around, as if you hadn’t just spent several minutes hoping for his appearance. “Oh, you know, the usual—interview clothes, some sweatpants, and a few coffee-stained rags.”

Seungkwan’s lips curled into a soft chuckle, his laugh warm as he tossed his own laundry into the machine beside yours. “Sounds spicy. Mrs. Whirlpool is in for a gourmet meal today.”

He said the weirdest, most ridiculous things, but the real mystery was how you still ended up wanting to kiss him anyway. There was something about his easy smile, the effortless way he tossed his dress shirt into the machine like it was some kind of party trick.

He had a knack for brightening the atmosphere as if he possessed a magnetic otherworldly charm. Whenever you arrived, you couldn't help but wish he would be there, transforming the ordinary task of laundry into an intimate little affair—just the two of you amidst a heap of dirty clothes.

You observed him from the side, noting that his stack of clothes was noticeably smaller than usual. This made you question why he would wash such a small load. “Today isn't your regular laundry day. It’s usually Fridays and Mondays, isn't it? Today’s Thursday.”

The second the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. Great. Way to sound like a total stalker. Creep much?

Seungkwan cocked a smile. “I’m flattered you’ve memorized my laundry schedule.”

You laughed awkwardly, scrambling for cover. “I pass by here and just happen to have a really great memory.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, this might sound kind of gross and embarrassing, but I found these abandoned at the back of my closet. They’ve been there forever, and I had some extra change, so I figured, why not? You know, especially since I’ll be gone at the end of October.”

“You’ll be gone for Halloween?” Well, don’t sound too disappointed.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said with a soft chuckle, glancing your way. “Family traditions. Can’t miss them. You know, the usual—handing out candy, our neighborhood haunted house contest, all that.”

“That sounds like so much fun. Way better than my Halloween growing up.”

“Aw, thanks, but trust me, it’s way more chaotic than it sounds. Kids screaming, neighbors going overboard with decorations—it’s a lot." He shrugged as he folded his laundry, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. “What about you? Got any plans?”

“Um… I’m not sure yet. Still figuring it out, I guess,” you answered earnestly, suddenly feeling like a loser with no plans–which you were by definition.

Seungkwan hesitated, his hands stilling mid-fold, the fabric dangling loosely between his fingers. You could see something flickering in his eyes—a jumble of thoughts swirling in his mind like a muddled cloud, visible in the furrow of his brow. “Oh. Well, um…” His voice trailed off, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if he were battling whether or not to say what was really on his mind.

"What?" Your curiosity spiked, your heart quickening as you waited for him to continue. For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, stretching the already lingering silence.

He quickly shook his head, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile before turning back to his laundry, his hands moving again, but less sure than before. “Nothing. Just—never mind.”

“Oh, okay.” The disappointment weighed on you, heavier than you wanted to admit. You glanced at the washing machines, trying to focus on the steady hum of the cycles, but your eyes kept drifting back to the numbers, slowly counting the seconds until the minutes ticked over, all while the silence between you grew louder.

You finished your load long before Seungkwan could wrap up his, the awkward tension of unfinished business hanging in the air like a thick fog. You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment before mustering a tight smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. “Well, that’s it for me. See you around, Seungkwan.”

He looked up from his laundry, the corners of his lips tugging down slightly. "See you, neighbor," he said, his tone laced with a hint of regret. The moment lingered in the air between you, thick with unspoken words, making it even harder to walk away.

With one last glance at his face, you stepped back, the soft chime of the door ringing behind you as you passed their glass doors.

As you walked back toward your apartment, you couldn’t help but drop in confidence, thinking to yourself that maybe you didn’t deserve good things like cute laundromat boy. The hallway felt more confining than usual, the walls seeming to close in, echoing the insecure thoughts making rounds in your head.

You leaned against the cheaply painted walls of your cramped apartment, sliding down to sit on the floor with your head in your hands. It was just a childish crush—fleeting and meaningless—yet the thought of him going away scared you more than any real-life danger you'd ever faced. He was the only upside to moving to this part of town, the one thing that made the mundane feel even remotely worthwhile.

As you sat on the vinyl floor, you could still picture the sparkle in his eyes when he first opened those double doors, the warmth of his voice as he introduced himself. What had once been just laundry had turned into something to look forward to, a small break from the routine and a chance to brighten up your day in this sparse town.

Maybe, if you were lucky, it could turn into a little small-town romance. But now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he even saw you beyond the casual pleasantries. Did he just see you as another neighbor, or maybe just a friendly face?

The familiar flickering light in the kitchen pulled you back to the reality and up from the ground of your haunted apartment. With a frustrated sigh, you turned your attention to your unwanted roommate. “Yeah, yeah, I’m home,” you muttered, trying to shake off the feeling of melancholy.

As you walked toward the living room, the flickering lightbulbs in the lamps followed your path, their erratic dance a reminder of the presence that lingered in your space. Maybe getting rid of them wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. It could be a way to finally cut ties with the ghost that seemed determined to remind you of your solitude. You chuckled softly at the thought. Perhaps an exorcism could clear out both the ghost and all the pointless overthinking.

But that was a problem for another day. Rotting in bed sounded far more appealing right now. You shuffled into your room, the soft glow from the streetlamp spilling in through the window, casting faint shadows on the walls as the evening deepened. The coolness of the night crept in slowly, the faint hum of the city blending into the background.

As you sank into the familiar embrace of your blankets, the exhaustion in your limbs finally settled, but your mind lingered for a moment longer. You glanced outside, the dim light catching in the leaves of the trees below, and for a fleeting second were at peace. No ghosts, no old washers or dryers, no obsessive crush. Just sleep.

You sighed, pulling the covers tighter around you, letting the hum of old furnishing–and probably the old pervert ghost–as you drifted off into sleep.

Your rest was cut short by a full bladder, ready to burst. With heavy eyelids, you stumbled toward the bathroom, barely aware of your surroundings. As you relieved yourself, everything felt normal—the creaking of the bathroom door, the sporadic running of the faucet, and the occasional flickering of the lights above, indicating his restless presence.

You groaned, rubbing your eyes with your fists. “This wasn’t an invitation, Casper,” you muttered, irritation creeping into your voice.

As if to taunt you, the faucet suddenly turned on full blast, running wildly before shutting off completely, leaving you with nothing but the simmering annoyance bubbling inside of you. With a frustrated huff, you quickly flushed the toilet and turned to the mirror. The lone reflection staring back at you looked as tired as you felt.

With dark circles under your eyes and a complexion that could only be described as dull, it was starting to feel like you were one bad hair day away from getting "gave up" tattooed across your forehead. And suddenly you were wondering whether you looked more dead than the ghost.

Instead of wallowing more self-pity, you washed your hands under the running faucet. If the ghost wanted to bother you, it certainly wasn’t going to be about your hygiene. You kept that on lock.

You glanced back at the mirror and no longer were you alone. Instead, where your reflection should have been was the unsettling visage of your ghost, staring back at you with a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. His pale features were striking, almost ethereal, with an undeniable charm that twisted your gut. Those mischievous eyes sparkled with a playful malevolence.

Your ghost was attractive–strikingly so–and for some reason that made you dislike him even more.

You shot your shared reflection an unamused smile. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

His reflection chuckled, leaning over his sink to give you an unfiltered view of every extraordinary detail etched into his face like a sculpture. “What? I thought I could finally introduce myself.”

“After months of me already living here? I feel the moment has passed,” you shot back, crossing your arms in defiance.

“Well, I had to pass my own judgment, didn't I? Do you know how many coke-huffing, cheese puff-grubbing, athlete-foot-walking slobs I’ve encountered in my place of residence?” He leaned closer, his expression mockingly serious, the flickering light casting playful shadows across his sharp cheekbones.

“May I remind you that those people were renters? If they paid to be there, who were you to deny them that?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Like I didn’t pay when I was alive? Plus, Muriel definitely wasn’t paying, nor was Monty. They were beyond sketchy.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, clearly relishing the chance to air his grievances from beyond the grave. “Now that I think about it, there was definitely some laundry going on around here—and I’m not just talking about your underwear strewn all over the place.”

“Thanks for the reminder. Would you please leave the undergarments alone?” you replied, trying to keep the irritation from creeping into your voice as if you didn’t sound crazy enough talking into a mirror.

He shrugged nonchalantly, the flickering light casting shadows across his smirking face. “I will once you learn to toss them in the hamper like a normal humie. Upside to being dead: no laundry.”

“I don’t have to take this from someone who can’t even wear underwear anymore.”

“So you assumed I died without any on? How morbidly perverted of you.” His playful smile widened.

You scoffed, incredulous at the absurdity of the conversation you were having—with a ghost of all people.

“You know I’m right…I could sense your heart racing the moment you laid eyes on me,” he teased, a playful grin dancing across his lips as his jaw hung slightly slack in intrigue. His gaze swept over you, lingering on the way your breath caught in your throat, as if he were drinking in every detail, alive in the way his eyes glowed with mischief despite their soulless depths.

His ghostly figure was lean and toned, the contours of his form faintly visible like a lingering shadow, brimming with an energy that felt both alluring and infuriating. The flickering light cast an ethereal glow around him, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaws and the way his seemingly wet hair fell carelessly over his forehead. He leaned closer, the air thickening with a mix of annoyance and something dangerously enticing as if he relished the effect he had on you.

“Are you…flirting with me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask, but the glint in his eye was undeniable.

“It’s not illegal. Not in the afterlife, anyway. Anything goes here.” He leaned back against the sink, bloodless veins pulsing against his forearms, enjoying the encounter more than he should.

“I…need sleep.”

You peeled yourself away from the mirror, shaking your head in disbelief, and headed to bed without looking back. You slipped through the sheets, found comfort in their familiarity, and sighed, thinking you escaped.

“You know—”

“Jesus!” you burst out, your heart racing as you instinctively clutched your chest. Opening your eyes, you found the ghost looming above you, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What now?”

“Walking to a different room isn’t exactly a proper goodnight,” he said, crossing his arms over his spectral chest as if he were the arbiter of etiquette in the afterlife. His expression was mock-serious, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he found the whole situation amusing.

“As if ghosts even sleep?” you shot back, rolling your eyes.

“No, but it’s polite,” he replied, feigning indignation, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a barely contained grin.

“Is this going to keep happening? You annoy me until I scrape together enough money to move out, or, if I’m not fortunate, end up penniless and homeless,” you lamented, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you threw your hands up in frustration.

“You tell me.”

With a sigh, you shut your eyes again and threw the blanket over your head, seeking refuge. “At least save it for the morning.”

And the ghost did just that—he saved all of it for the morning, better yet the afternoon. Since that’s when you woke up anyways.

“Do people always eat breakfast past two p.m., or is that a recent trend from the last two decades?” his voice called, cutting through the haze of your half-sleep as you started to eat

“How old are you even?” you mumbled, cereal gnashing between your teeth.

“Old enough to know that you need more than cereal to sustain a healthy human body.”

“Riveting,” you muttered sarcastically, sipping the milk from the bowl. “Next, you’ll tell me that ‘ghosting’ is a real thing in your realm, too.”

“Actually, it is,” he retorts, his presence somehow stronger than it was in front of a mirror, “Happen to be doing it right now. Having some fun.”

“Is that your idea of fun? Stalking me from beyond the grave?”

“Call it what you want, but I’m just trying to keep you company,” he replied, his voice low and smooth, like honey dripping from a spoon. “Besides, who else is going to breathe some life into your dull existence other than someone who’s already checked out of theirs?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms with a playful huff. “Great. Just what I need—my own ghostly life coach. What’s next? A seminar on the benefits of double-scrubbing the bathtub?

It was meaningless stuff, really. The kind of chatter that filled the air like background noise, a gentle distraction from the world outside your walls. Yet, for someone who was supposed to be dead, he had an uncanny knack for conversation, it only made you assume the type of person he was alive. He could turn the mundane into clear images, painting vivid pictures with his stories about the afterlife—or, more accurately, his gripes about it. Not that you asked for it, but, it was like being told a grand story. Stories you could not for the life of you stop listening to for some reason.

“Okay, ghostie—”

“Jeonghan,” he corrected. “Say it with me slowly. Jeong. Han.”

“Mmh, ghostie! I’ll be back after the laundry is done.”

“No way you’re saving money with how often you—”

“Bye bye, poltergeist!” You cut him off with a wave, stepping out with a load full of laundry.

You had noticed how quickly the days were slipping by, how time seemed to blur when you shared your space with someone—or rather, something—that could actually respond to you in real-time. It was a strange kind of companionship, one that made you forget just how much solitude had weighed on you before.

The passing days also reminded you just how much you needed a breather, to clear your head from this bizarre living arrangement. And somehow, your laundry had piled up, more than it ever should have for someone unemployed who barely left the house. It was odd. Almost like time itself was moving faster, dragging the mess along with it.

“Hey, right on schedule—Thursdays and every other Monday and today’s Monday..”

You almost forgot about Seungkwan amidst all the supernatural nonsense swirling around you, but seeing him brought back memories of your last encounter, and you quickly put on a smile. “Hey there! Look at you, recognizing my laundry schedule too.”

“Thought I’d return the favor since you were kind enough to remember mine. Hope that’s okay,” he replied, his tone light.

You piled your laundry into the machine, carefully measuring out some freshly opened detergent. “It is.”

“Okay… I just want to apologize for being weird the last time we talked,” he said, shifting slightly as he leaned against the machine, his expression turning a bit more serious.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you assured him.

“I just… I don’t know.” He glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowing slightly. “My mind went blank, if I’m being honest.”

You smiled reassuringly. “I get that. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it.”

He looked up, a playful grin spreading across his face. “So you think I’m pretty?”

Fuck. “It’s… just an expression.”

He leaned against his machine, his gaze fixed on you. “Didn’t deny it, though.”

You chuckled, feigning exasperation and mirroring his posture against your own machine. “You’re a lot more cocky than I realized, Mr. Seungkwan.”

“Do you like that?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were left speechless. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as your thoughts bounced from one corner of your mind to the other until finally, they found themselves running down between your legs in a new form of discomfort. “Umm…”

You turned away for a moment, breathing to steady yourself, gently patting away your very alive heart.

“I made it weird again, didn’t I?” he said, his voice laced with a hint of regret.

You spun back around, shaking your head. “No. No! It just took me by surprise.”

“Sorry about that.” Not sounding all that sorry.

“That’s…more than I’m used to,” you admitted, a slight heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“Thank you?” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound brightening the air between you and making the moment feel lighter and more vibrant. Just then, the machine beeped, a sharp sound signaling that your clothes were done, pulling you away from the heated exchange.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both, but this time it felt different—like the crackling of kindling in the perfect moment when fireflies come out, illuminating the night as brightly as the stars in the sky. You exchanged a quiet glance, catching a glint reminiscent of those stars in his gaze, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling you, ‘Hey, maybe there's something here.’

When you finally turned to leave, your smile was the biggest you’d ever had. And when he matched yours, it was like you had just won a bizarre lottery. You probably looked a bit unhinged, standing there grinning at nothing while swaying in the damp weather, but you didn’t care. The butterflies in your stomach danced happily, and you found yourself wishing you could hold on to this moment just a little longer, savoring the warmth it brought.

“You look happy.”

Not even the Ghostbusters’ final boss could ruin that for you.

“Cram it, Beetlejuice Lite,” you shot back, because although you’re in a good mood, you relished finding new names to call Jeonghan besides his own.

You hummed to yourself as you folded and neatly put away your clothes, feeling his cool, lingering presence behind you. He watched, like always—probably thinking up who put sugar in your cereal this morning for you to be in such an uppity mood.

“Well, I’ll be. You’re actually putting your clothes away like a functional human being?” His voice oozed mock surprise, but today, it just rolled right off you.

“Yep! Just felt like it,” you replied cheerfully, sliding the last of the shirts into your drawer with a satisfied nod.

“Strange. I thought laundry was your natural habitat now, seeing how often you’re in there… but I guess that’s thanks to a certain ‘living,’”

You snapped your drawer shut, the sound echoing through the room as you whipped around to glare at him, immediately pulling you away from the happiness you felt not that long ago. “You—”

“Seungkwan, wasn’t it? Cute kid. Didn’t quite peg him as your type, though.” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Your eyes narrowed, heart doing an involuntary somersault. Of course, he’d noticed. He seemed to notice everything, like some twisted version of a nosy neighbor, only this one didn’t have the decency to keep his opinions to himself. You wanted to fire back, but your brain was moving a step too slow, still caught up on the casual way he dropped Seungkwan's name. How long had he been watching you both at the laundromat?

“You’re stalking me outside of the apartment now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My spirit may be bound to this place,” he replied with an air of nonchalance, “but my soul can roam as it pleases.”

“Spirit? Soul? Aren’t they the same thing?”

He tilted his head, giving you a patronizing smile. “Not quite. My soul travels freely, observing everything within a reasonable distance—it’s not tethered to the apartment like my spirit is. My spirit stays here, out of my control.”

“So, you spied on me just because you could?”

"Call it research. Gathering intel." He shrugged. "Besides, it's not like you were doing anything interesting."

"Oh, I'm so glad I could provide you with such riveting entertainment.”

You shook your head, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind you, only to have Jeonghan pass through it. "You know, for a ghost, you're surprisingly annoying."

"For a flesh-and-blood mortal, you're remarkably unfazed," he observes, his ethereal voice echoing slightly. "Most wouldn't last a day with my...unique brand of housekeeping."

You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, well, I'm not most people."

“So,” he began, “about this Seungkwan guy…”

You stiffened, feeling your cheeks heat up. “What about him?”

“Just curious,” he replied casually, though there was a glint in his eyes. “He seems... nice.”

“He is,” you mumbled, suddenly finding your laundry far more interesting than the conversation again.

“And you like him?”

Your heart raced in your chest. “I don’t know,” you admitted, the words almost sticking in your throat. “Maybe.”

“Does he like you?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. “…I don’t know yet.”

There was a beat of silence before he offered, “Want some help with that?”

“No. What? How would you even do that?” You narrowed your eyes, already regretting entertaining this conversation.

He started circling you, wearing a grin that screamed trouble, like a cat ready to pounce. “The only time my soul and spirit are truly joined,” he began in a low, conspiratorial tone, “is when I possess a body and take control of their flesh.”

You rolled your eyes. “Where is this going, Bloody Maury? Skip to the part that makes sense.”

He stopped directly in front of you, arms crossed. “Well, if you’re interested in ‘skipping to the good parts,’ I could possess your body. Help you say what’ll win over Seungkwan in no time.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why in the hell would I be dumb enough to let you do that?”

He snickered, leaning in with a smug look. “Because you’re desperate and haven’t slept with anyone the entire time we’ve lived together.”

“…You talk too much.”

“Think about it,” he continued, unbothered by your glare. “You’ve already got a foot in the door with him. You just need a little boost. I can help.”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “This sounds like some high-level scheme to take over my body. Then I’ll end up stuck sharing it with a ghost, screaming into the depths of my soul for eternity. Thanks, but no thanks.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been watching too much supernatural TV. And besides, if I wanted to possess your body for good, I would’ve done it a long time ago. I do have some principles, you know. Consent and all.”

You shook your head, unimpressed. “Nope. I still can’t trust you, ghostie.”

Jeonghan, ever the persistent undead, didn’t know the meaning of giving up—and by now, you should’ve expected as much. And maybe, just maybe, his constant, incessant persuading was starting to wear you down. Sharing the same space day in and day out gave him the upper hand. He knew your quirks, your weak spots—the best and worst parts of you.

These past few days, you weren’t sure if you were going insane by agreeing with a ghost, or if he was actually starting to make some sense.

As you stared off at him, basking in the cool autumn air slipping through the balcony, you started to wonder if his intentions were not as venomous or malicious as you initially thought. There was a strange, quiet sadness in his eyes as if he longed for something he couldn’t put into words. Something that you couldn’t understand even if you tried.

“Am I really so pathetic that the ‘phantom reject’ is willing to help me with my love life?”

Jeonghan glanced at you with mild interest, noticing the way your curiosity had piqued. You sat comfortably on the couch, your elbow propped on the armrest, cheek nestled in your palm, as you observed him. He quietly approached, given that his feet were intangible and didn’t reach the ground, the silence was deafening and he lowered his head to level with you, staring back at you with so much intent it burned to feel his gaze.

He titled his head, brimming with pride. “Well, let’s just say I’ve never been rejected in my life. So.”

“You really think this’ll work for me?”you asked, skepticism lacing your tone.

“Of course,” he replied, with a grin. “You’ve got me.”

You were really considering it—letting a ghost help with your love life. Was this truly insane? Maybe. But it felt like it was worth a shot.

God, this was pathetic. And for once, you had something to be genuinely afraid of. And funny enough, it wasn’t possession. Until, well… maybe it was.

Life had never quite prepared you for this. Standing in your bedroom, surrounded by the overflowing pile of dirty clothes in the corner, you realized you’d put this off long enough—both the laundry and the body possession. You let out a shaky breath, glancing nervously from the mess to Jeonghan.

His presence loomed, just as insistent as the neglected chores, and you had to steady yourself, mentally sorting through how you’d ended up in this bizarre situation. Laundry? Fine. Ghost possession? Not something you thought was possible. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to assess the ridiculousness of it all.

“Okay, Grim Peeper, let’s do this.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly as you tried, and failed, to shake off the nerves. His movements were deliberate as he approached, eyes narrowing in focus. He watched how the tension gripped your shoulders, the way your breath quickened despite your best efforts to stay calm. His presence felt heavier, and as he took his position in front of you, the air around him seemed to still.

You could feel the weight of what was about to happen, the looming absurdity of it all. Jeonghan, who usually exuded a kind of careless charm, now looked oddly concentrated, as if he were preparing for something he rarely had the chance to do. His expression, though still smug, carried a certain gravity. But in all honesty, he wasn’t really sure what to expect.

“I’m about to make contact,” Jeonghan said, his tone unusually serious. “It’s going to feel a bit disorienting at first—like a cold shiver running down your spine. But after a few seconds, your mind will adjust, and it’ll feel like nothing ever happened. My voice will echo in your head, almost like it’s your own thoughts. I’ll let you know when it’s me taking control.”

His hands hovered over your shoulders, a ghostly chill brushing against your skin. For a split second, there was something oddly reassuring in his dead, sullen eyes. "You'll be okay. I promise, nothing will go wrong."

You sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down. "Alright, I trust you." Then you glanced at him, a small smirk forming. "But seriously, what do you get out of all this? Helping me, I mean. I won’t judge... Boo-dini."

He let out a short laugh, tilting his head slightly as if considering how to answer. “I…want to remember what it’s like to feel alive again. See what I missed out on.”

“That’s fair,” you nodded, understandably.

“Expected more from me, humie?”

You shrugged. “Thought you’d have a deeper back story, but that’s fine.”

Jeonghan scoffed softly, giving you a teasing smirk before he began. In an instant, he was there—and then he wasn’t. The shift was so sudden it left you reeling. Just as he’d predicted, a shiver rippled down your spine, cold and unsettling. But what he hadn’t mentioned were the flashes of unfamiliar images that flickered behind your eyes, moments you’d never lived but somehow felt were real.

They came and went so fast, you couldn’t make sense of them—fleeting fragments of his past, perhaps, or echoes of something even older.

‘How are you?’ he voice said, interrupting your thoughts.

You quietly nodded, reassuring him.

‘Very well then. Your lead, dear host.’

You wandered into the laundromat with your overstuffed hamper, feeling a bit like a laundry pirate hauling treasure—or dirty socks—across the high seas. You’d made the executive–and rightfully cowardly–decision to skip your usual laundry day, and now it was leading up to this very moment. Jeonghan stayed mostly dormant in your body as you claimed an empty machine, the back of your head itchy knowing another being was sharing your body that has led you this far. And now it was going to lead you to get laid.

It was like clockwork. Any minute now, Seungkwan would stroll in, and Jeonghan would take over, handling all the nerve-wracking nonsense you'd rather avoid.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ his voice echoed, ‘I almost thought it was my own heart racing, then I remembered I’m dead.’

“Sorry,” you muttered softly under your breath, ignoring the supernatural’s attempt at a joke.

‘It’s fine. Everything will be fine.’

“I know,” you sighed.

“You know what?”

You spun around, facing Seungkwan, who’d entered with that casual, friendly energy you always admired. He smiled, raising an eyebrow at your startled expression.

"Seungkwan!" you blurted out, trying to push the embarrassment down as far as it would go.

“Hey, neighbor,” he greeted, already moving toward his machine, gently separating colors from whites. “How are you?”

“Good—Great! Why do you ask?”

He gave you a light shrug, glancing up with a playful grin. “Just sounded like you were talking to yourself.”

“Well, who doesn’t?” you quipped, trying to play it cool. “Sometimes thinking out loud helps clear the head noise, right?”

“Right,” he said, stretching with an amused smile, clearly entertained by your odd, jittery energy.

‘Wow, thank god you have me.’

You quietly cursed Jeonghan in your head for making this harder than it needed to be, before mustering up the nerve to approach Seungkwan, fingers nervously fidgeting.

"Hey, so... you mentioned you were going to be out of town for Halloween, right?"

Seungkwan looked up, surprised and then grinned. "You remembered! Yeah, what’s up?"

You hesitated for a second, feeling Jeonghan’s smug presence lingering somewhere in the back of your mind. "I thought..."

Seungkwan leaned casually against the now-humming washer, hands tucked in his pockets, his curious gaze fixed on you. "Yeah?"

You tried to keep your cool, but the moment the words "we could do something" left your mouth, your brain started to short-circuit. Seungkwan turned to you with that easygoing grin of his, waiting for you to elaborate, and you could already feel the awkwardness creeping in.

Jeonghan’s voice chimed in, ‘You’re fumbling. Let me take over.’

Before you could protest, the familiar shiver ran down your spine. Suddenly, everything felt distant—your limbs moved, but you weren't fully in control anymore.

Jeonghan’s smooth voice came out of your mouth as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was thinking, maybe we could hang out before you head out of town? You know, catch a movie, grab a drink, something low-key, say my place?"

Seungkwan's smile widened, surprised but clearly intrigued. "You want to hang out with me?”

Jeonghan, still in control of your voice, replied effortlessly, "Of course." Before you could even process what was happening, your feet began to move on their own, gliding across the floor like a spy on a secret mission. Jeonghan closed the distance between you and Seungkwan, and suddenly, your hands were fidgeting with the hem of Seungkwan's shirt. “I figure it’s a good excuse to steal some of your time before Halloween hits."

Your heart raced, and you mentally screamed at Jeonghan, Okay, okay, that’s enough! I can take it from here!

But he was on a roll. "Tomorrow?" Seungkwan asked, leaning casually against the washing machine, though the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot betrayed his nervousness. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

"Tomorrow’s perfect," Jeonghan responded smoothly, maintaining the effortless flow of the conversation. "I’ll text you the details."

With each word, your body felt like it was moving on autopilot, and while you were horrified by the lack of control, a part of you couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration. Jeonghan was nailing it, but the closeness to Seungkwan was almost too much to handle.

Suddenly, Seungkwan playfully entwined his fingers with yours, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through your hand, as his grin graced his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, savoring the warmth of the connection. When you opened them, you found an unreadable expression on his face—intense and smoldering. “Sounds like a plan,” he said, his voice slightly softer now. “Looking forward to it.”

The way he held your gaze made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the world around you faded into a soft blur. Even though Jeonghan was in control, your thoughts tangled with the heat of the moment, coursing through you like a fever.

As soon as Seungkwan turned away to his laundry with a lingering grin, Jeonghan released control, and the reins were back in your hands. You blinked, still a bit disoriented from the possession.

‘See? Easy,’ Jeonghan’s voice echoed smugly in your mind.

‘You’re impossible,’ you shot back.

‘But effective.’

That night, you tackled all the prep work you knew you needed to get done. It had been a while since you’d done anything like this, and you definitely had some dust bunnies and spiderwebs in your attic.

“Humie–oh.”

“Jeonghan! What the hell?” Your eyes flew open as you scrambled to pull the shower curtain over your bare legs, the chill of the water sending a shiver up your spine from the products strewn haphazardly at the edge of the sink. “Do you fucking mind?”

“Well, well. Look at you, all cleaned up. At least yourself, anyway. Can’t say the same for the bathroom floor—or that mountain of grooming products over there.”

You gripped your makeshift cover-up a little tighter, groaning in frustration. “Privacy, please! I barely have any as it is.”

“I’m just saying, I’m proud of you. Now, if you manage to sweep up after, I might even give you a round of applause.”

“Out!” you snapped, glaring.

He shrugged, turning to leave with an impish grin. “Hey, roommates catch each other with their pants down one way or another.”

If you weren’t already a bundle of nerves, Jeonghan was getting far too comfortable for your liking. Leading up to that night and the big day, he had been dishing out advice on everything from what to wear to what movie to play, right down to critiquing the meager food stock in your fridge.

“That’s it, you need to go grocery shopping.”

“I can't afford that right now!”

“Just get Instacart. I don’t care. This apartment is as bare-bones as it gets.”

“I have popcorn, soda, and some chocolate for Halloween when I'm giving them out.”

“First of all, popcorn isn’t actually food. Second, prebiotic soda doesn’t count as real soda. And if you can get chocolate, then you can definitely manage to buy some real groceries.”

But just as you were about to respond, luck decided to abandon you with a sharp knock at the door. “No time!” you hissed, “now scr—oh, you’re already gone.”

One moment he was there, and the next, he had vanished. Now, it was all on you, and nothing felt more nerve-wracking. You tugged your shorts down just enough to cover the rest of your bottom, anxiety buzzing in your chest. Your hand hovered over the doorknob as you took a deep breath, trying to muster some confidence before swinging it open to reveal who was waiting outside.

“Seungkwan, hey!”

“Hey!” he grinned, his Halloween-themed vest adding a playful touch to his outfit as he juggled a couple of bags in his arms. “You didn’t ask, but I thought I’d surprise you with some food. Pumpkin-spiced spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Oh, uhhh…”

He burst into laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just messing with you! It’s actually butternut squash gnocchi and some stuffed peppers that look like pumpkins.”

“Oh, thank God! That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s festive without going overboard.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a warm rush of relief. “Come in.”

As you stepped aside to let him in, you couldn’t help but notice how wholesomely he was dressed compared to your casual attire. Suddenly, you felt a pang of self-consciousness.

“I like your sweater,” you said, trying to mask your growing insecurity.

He looked down, a hint of modesty crossing his face. “Yeah, I think it’s just the right amount of festive, but—”

“It’s festive but not overboard,” you responded, playfully tossing his words right back at him.

He grinned, “Exactly!”

You smiled back, feeling a wave of warmth as Seungkwan's presence began to calm your nerves. As he settled into the familiar space of your apartment, you couldn’t help but discreetly scan the room for any signs of your ghoulish roommate. Half-relieved to find nothing, half-disappointed that your spectral “backup” was nowhere in sight, you let out a quiet sigh. And now it was just you—and the human you actually invited in.

Hesitantly, you eased into the spot next to him on the couch, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. Your hands were jittery as you picked up the remote, scrolling through the movies you’d lined up, your mind racing to figure out what to do next.

You glanced at him, hoping for some sort of sign or direction, but the words caught in your throat. The longer you scrolled, the more painfully aware you became of the silence, as if it only heightened the nervous tension taking over your body, weirdly missing Jeonghan and how flawlessly he executed what he did yesterday.

"So, movies," you said, aiming the remote at the TV.

"Movies," he echoed, mimicking your tone.

“I mean,” You raised a brow. "What do you have in mind? And there is a right answer."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "Alright, I love Halloween, but..."

"But?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.

"I... really can’t handle scary movies. Halloween Town is probably my limit."

"Halloween Town? The kids’ movie?"

"Hey, don’t knock it. They had great graphics!"

"They had awful graphics!" you shot back, incredulous.

He grinned, half-joking but clearly standing by his point. "Yeah, now. But for its time?”

You shook your head in playful disbelief, unable to hold back a smile. “You’re ridiculous. But fine, your choice.”

You were left with very few options. Seungkwan had suggested a few festive, family-friendly titles, but you managed to persuade him to consider a couple of mild thrillers—some stupid but perfectly on theme.

“The zombie version of Twilight? Seriously? Zombies?" he repeated, stressing the idea with disbelief.

You shrugged, smiling from his reaction. “You might like it.”

He dropped his head in defeat, cute little whines escaping his pursed lips. “Fine, but you’d better be my shield for this, okay, neighbor?”

The movie began to play, the take-out boxes popped open, and your nerves were on high alert, vibrating like something else does on a normal Friday night for you. Except now, it was just you and the incredible realization that the man you're very much interested in was mere inches away. You were a fucking wreck.

Surprisingly, Seungkwan was genuinely enjoying the film, finding unexpected humor and charm in the cringeworthy blockbuster. His laughter was soothing and infectious, gradually easing your nerves until you started to feel normal again. Why were you like this?

Wait, you felt normal again, but what was normal?

Before you fully grasped what had happened in that fleeting moment of clarity, your hand made contact with Seungkwan, trailing lightly up his forearm. He immediately turned to face you, and your eyes locked, but suddenly they felt as if they belonged to someone else as if you were watching a different kind of film—a film where you were a separate character, experiencing everything from an alternate reality.

“Seungkwan,” your voice spoke, sounding foreign and distant as if someone else were taking control. Jeonghan?

‘It was so painful to watch.’

Jeonghan guided your hand to brush against Seungkwan's ear, teasingly grazing the tip and relishing the warmth that bloomed between your fingers.

“Hey,” he replied, his nerves speaking for him. “Is something wrong?”

A low chuckle escaped from the depths of your throat, echoing Jeonghan’s playful menace. “You didn’t think we were just going to watch a movie, did you?”

Seungkwan audibly gulped, his eyes darting around as anxiety crept in. “We aren’t?”

“What’s the matter?” Jeonghan leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Seungkwan’s ear. “Where’s that confidence you had yesterday?”

Seungkwan suddenly tossed a pillow onto his lap, speechless and blushing fiercely. “Sorry,” he stammered, caught off guard. “I never anticipated—”

“Oh, really? You never expected to do something other than watching movies?” Your hand gently cupped his cheek, and you could feel Seungkwan melt into your touch with a gentle whimper.

A delighted sigh escaped you, fueled by Jeonghan’s newfound confidence coursing through your veins as your thumb traced the curve of Seungkwan’s Adam’s apple, feeling the rapid thrum of his pulse beneath your fingertips.

“You didn’t think for a second, I’d–you know–keep the night as is, did you?”

He softly groaned in his throat, feeling the tension seep inside him. “Are you suggesting?”

“I don’t want to just watch movies with you, Seungkwan. It’d be more fun to make our own. Isn’t that right?”

“...yes. God, yes.”

He leaned in, cradling your face in his hands, and pressed his lips to yours in a swift, hungry kiss, sending a surge of electricity through you as your tension unraveled in waves. His weight dipped against your body, pinning you against the rough tweed of the couch. His soft moans mingled with your breaths, muffled yet threatening, as if he were desperate to let loose and explore the desire in his heart while you were within reach.

‘That’s it.’

Your hand held the back of his head, catching strands between your fingers and tugged, ravaging his lips as if it’d be the last time you’d get a chance. You weren’t sure when Jeonghan gave you back your control, but in the heat of the moment, none of it mattered.

He tasted like a life force, fueling the fire burning in your loins and the fire kindling in your stomach; he had you wanting more with every passing second. His hands grabbed you recklessly, throwing his weight against you and squeezing your flesh until it was tender and malleable in his hands. This wasn’t something to unfold on the couch, you thought—not when a big, inviting bed lay just a few steps away, calling for you.

Your feet regained enough feeling to guide you off the couch, and before you knew it, you were stumbling toward your room, feverish and driven, with no thought of turning back. Your hands found his clothes, teasing beneath his holiday vest and up his torso, admiring the smooth flush of skin that graced your senses. He gasped, succumbing to your excitement and leaned into it, falling seamlessly into your rhythm.

“Didn’t want to stretch this, but,” he pulled the vest and shirt beneath over his head, tossing them aside in the corner. You let your hand linger longer on his body, running along the curve of his spine as he pulled you closer.

Seungkwan grasped your waist, savoring your lips with gentle strokes of his tongue before lifting you from the ground and onto the bed. Your bodies crushed against one another, peeling off articles of clothing one piece at a time until you were almost bare, expertly taking you apart to have you whole. All to himself as far as he knew.

“Seungkwan,” you called out in pleas, hands cradling the back of his neck as his hair fell over his eyes. “I want you so bad…”

“You’re telling me,” he managed to breathe out, gripping your underwear at its hem and scrapping it over your hips as he pulled them down. “I’ve thought about you ever since I met you.”

Your heart bloomed in your chest, pleasantly startled by his confession. Your hands ran through his hand, pushing them over his forehead despite knowing they’d only fall back in place. “You were always so…friendly.”

He smiled, pressing it against the corner of your lips and decorating your cheeks and jaw with kisses. “Yeah. I always hoped that we’d be more than just friendly.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You pulled him back into a lip lock, parting your legs to give him access.

‘Look at all the fun you’re having.’

Jeonghan was like a wandering whisper, weaving through your thoughts as Seungkwan enveloped your senses. Seungkwan’s hands were on your body, touching what’s yours and making it his, where Jeonghan could feel it as much as you could, and you knew it. He got off on this just as much as you did.

‘Feel him rubbing that pretty pussy of yours.’

“So wet…” Seungkwan said with ache, sounding like he was pleading.

His digits found your sensitivity and thumbed over your clit, stimulating you until your voice rang but the last thing you were doing was speaking. You became fluent in moans, fluid in body language, and perfect in Seungkwan. Your breath dragged on, panting against him as your leg hooked to his side, holding him with urgency.

‘So fucking horny…you were begging to be fucked, hmm?’

You couldn’t help but nod, hand lowering to find Seungkwan’s raging erection just within reach. He softly gasped, thrusting into your touch as you held his shaft, stroking his length that felt so full in your hands. So stiff, yet warm to the touch, almost tasting the tension on your tongue.

‘Look at that size, huh? Imagine how that feels in you. Stretching your pussy and making you feel so full? Doesn’t that sound amazing?’

“I need you in me Seungkwan.” You begged in desperate pants, gripping him by the forearms. “I want to feel you inside me.”

There was a certain eagerness in his eyes, the kind that said he would do anything and everything for you in a heartbeat and succeed. You weren’t dealing with any average guy that wanted to get off. “Fuck,” he whispered, before lifting his upper body, putting himself on full display.

His physique was magnificent in every way, tantalizing and captivating like nothing you’ve ever encountered. You had an inkling of what he looked like under all his clothes, the veins always so prominent on his forearms and hands when he strained to reach something on a shelf, the line of his back when his lifted shirt revealed just a sliver of skin, or his wide hips, baring an ass so round and full they look like they came straight out of the oven. Never have you ever wanted to run your hands over something, nor have you ever wanted to sink your teeth into something. Yet, here was Seungkwan: utterly delectable.

Seungkwan dragged you by the ankles, moving you effortlessly as he angled himself between your legs, your molten heat practically dripping at the sight of him. His groan bounced off the walls, hand coming over your inner thighs and gently massaging your skin. As his kisses started to pepper over your legs, you felt your pussy physically throb, damned to eternal craving.

“You look like heaven,” He cried against your thighs. “Any protection?”

“It’s right–oh.” You picked up a rubber conveniently left at your nightstand, then handed it to Seungkwan. You‘re welcome.’

He set it aside with a smile and instead of putting it on, his face fell on your heat. He tasted you like it was worship; the dance of his tongue was his prayers, while your response flowed like a cascade of blessings. You whined when you felt him pursed around your clit, teeth barely grazing you as he sucked down like you’re the last bit of syrup in a dessert.

At the same time, his eyes glazed over to yours, a hand hovering over your chest, inaudibly asking permission, and when you gave him a wordless nod, he grabbed handfuls of your breasts. He kneaded you between his knuckles, rolling your buds between his fingers, and having you surrender to his chase.

“Seungkwan, please…”

Seungkwan’s eyes glimmered with pride, a sultry testament to the depth of his exploration. The longer he ventured, the more you found ogasmic relief, feeling every ounce of his efforts and every ounce of his pleasure. You held him by his hair, leg anchoring over his back, feeling his tongue massage your inner walls. His voice vibrates inside you, somehow stealing your breath, and filling you with utter euphoria.

‘You feel that? How much he wants you? How much he craves you. He’s been waiting for this day. And you should reward him. Don’t you think?’

You tugged him up, watch him gasping for air, replace one pair of lips with another. You flipped him on his back, gaining momentum, and relishing in the power of control, and swallowing his gasps. You aligned the hilt of his cock towards you, ensuring you wrapped it protection before it sat between the slit of your folds.

Seungkwan tilted his head back, his eyes glistening with desire as he admired you, his gaze revealing his thoughts like an open book. "You're so sexy," he murmured, the words spilling out without hesitation. While his look said it all, hearing it felt like a heated rush of affirmation, and it made you want him more.

You pushed his length in you, feeling his size pulsate through you, and a moan managed to pass through your lips. Shivers ran down through you, goosebumps pebbling your skin, and you realized the raging presence of Seungkwan was going to be the death of you. As he rocked inside you, he held your hips in place, guiding your form up and down on lap, adjusting to your squeeze, and adjusting to how it contracts. “Oh my god, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Just like I wanted,” You teased.

Your lips brushed against his neck, grazing your teeth over his skin before making passionate kisses to his neck, grinding down on his body until there isn’t a hint of space between your bodies. You were growing weary–albeit needy–chasing a high that was so close to be conquered. You felt it, Seungkwan felt it, and damn well Jeonghan felt it. You needed more, just a little more.

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of your lungs, as if something vital had escaped from within you, and your movements were put to a halt.

“Sorry,” you apologize, pushing the hair way from your face. “Not sure what happened. I promise–”

“Don’t apologize to me, Humie.”

You heard his voice—or rather, an echo of Jeonghan’s voice—calling from below you, and as you met his gaze in Seungkwan’s eyes, your expression widened in shock. “Jeonghan,” you declared menacingly.

“In the flesh. Well, not my own, but you get the idea,” he quipped.

You nudged at the body beneath you, careful of not hurting the host. “Get out of this poor human’s body right now! What happened to consent?”

“Oh, he’s very much consenting to the thrill of this level of intimacy,” Jeonghan replied, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

“Not when it involves a literal ghost!”

“Relax, he won’t remember a thing. My spirit won’t let him. All he’ll recall is the good time he had,” the body thief winked playfully.

“Bullshit! Do what’s right and let the boy go.”

“But I am doing what’s right.” His grip tightened around your hips, pushing Seungkwan’s cock deeper in you as if it was possible and ebbing weak moans from as he pulled you closer, a wicked smile dancing on his lips. “So right.”

“J-Jeonghan,” you stammered, your pulse quickening.

“I just couldn’t take it anymore, Humie. You looked absolutely ravishing. I had to experience you for myself.”

Your head was screaming all kinds of denial, but your body thrived off his confidence, his energy was flowing through you, splitting through you and hitting a spot of pliancy. This was so wrong. “This…this is violating…for him…”

“But you love it, don’t you? It’s like a wicked thrill, a tantalizing pleasure that feeds your deepest, most tumultuous desires.”

You scoffed, trying to ignore the pulsating cock rocking your very core. “And what kind of desires is that?”

“You want us both,” he answered plainly. “The human and me.”

You shook your head, fingers tightening around Seungkwan’s shoulders in a desperate bid for security as you fought against Jeonghan’s seductive temptations. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Then, why don’t you get off of me?”

“It’s Seungkwan I can’t get off of,” You clarified.

You could recognize Jeonghan’s smile, even though it was plastered on Seungkwan’s face—so conniving, so devilish. It exuded an intoxicating power that was inhumane, but irresistible. “But it's me you’re riding–and fucking hell–you look so good doing it.”

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, pleading for release from his coercion, but as you feared, mercy eluded you entirely.

“Yes,” His palm rode up your body, his lips parting in haughty confidence. “Beg for me, beg for me to fuck you full.”

“...Fuck it. I want you to fuck me full.” You accepted him, feeling the tension of the cock inside you, ripple waves straight into your heat.

Mindlessly, you accepted his domineering hand that landed on your mouth, feeling it travel past your lips, parting way with his thumb. You wrapped your lips around his digits, sucking them like candy, and the shame that once enveloped your paradoxical feelings dissipated, leaving only a deep hunger in its wake.

Whether it was Jeonghan or Seungkwan beneath you, it was all true to its very core. You had an undeniable infatuation for your cute neighbor and a strange fascination with the handsome ghost. The connection you felt with both was more than palpable, leaving you with an unexplained frenzy of emotions that would require extensive therapy. You knew the logical choice was the one who was alive, but you had never considered that you could have both—especially not in such a chaotic, unorthodox three-way.

“Look at what a slut you are for us, your lips so perfect wrapped around these slender fingers of his.”

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly muttered to yourself, grinding harder, sucking Seungkwan’s fingers deeper, and gradually succumbing to Jeonghan’s demands.

Jeonghan let out a deep, rolling laugh that resonated from Seungkwan’s core, a sound so rich and dark it sent a momentary unease through you. “You’re simply giving into your desires, why fight it?”

“You damn well know why,” you spat out his fingers and gritted your teeth.

“Now that’s not nice,” His hand covered the shape of your ass, cupping them in his palms, “Do I need to show you how to be nicer to me?”

“Jeonghan,” you groaned, feeling his digits dig into your flesh as he spread them apart.

“What’s that, baby?” he experimented, “Looks like I have to make this a teaching opportunity after all? Because you can’t show your gratitude?”

“Jeonghan, please.”

“Well, if you insist.” With an unexplainable, arcane, supernatural force, the dynamics were switched and Jeonghan had you on your stomach, ass conveniently placed in from of him.

“Jeonghan!”

"I always knew you looked good from every angle, but wow—this one is something else." His hand glided over your curves, Seungkwan’s cock splitting down your divide, you grasped your thirst.

Anticipation was wreaking havoc on your sanity, leaving you in a deafening silence as you waited for Jeonghan to make his move, impatience following. “Will you just–”

A hand clashed against your backside, your skin stinging from impact, and relieving you from a ched yelp. Jeonghan braced you against a groin, the erection nudging at your skin. “So needy,” he chuckled. You felt the tip tease along your slip, eventually filling you up in that familiar way.

You whimper, the size still enticingly foreign, and back into his weight, feel yourself travel all the way down to the base.

“An impatient,” Jeonghan softly groans, grounding himself to you in careful, yet sharp thrusts.

You balled your sheets into fists, your voice muffled as you buried your face in a pillow.

He chuckled against his skin. “That good?”

“Y-yes,” you helplessly whispered.

He slammed down on you, releasing a squeaky spring sound from the bed, both embarrassing and strangely arousing. “Even when I do that?”

“Yes…more please…”

Jeonghan repeated the move, finding a steady rhythm, and watched as your skin and flesh recoiled back against him. He could feel his host basking in the intensity of this pleasure, tears swelling his eyes as your moans echoed in his ears, memorizing from the decibels your voice reached, to the way you looked from behind, and even how the flesh of thighs spilled when you collapsed wearily on the mattress.

“Insane,” He said in hushed whispers.

“Stop it,” you whined.

“Stop what? Showing you how fucking perfect you are taking my cock?” He grunted.

You pressed your lips in a firm lip, clawing down on the bed as your core tightened, every pound drilling into you, giving into his indulgence and taking you along with him. He made every thrust count as the echo of skin slapping faded into the background.

“Oh please, help me cum.” You begged. “Please, please, please…”

His pace quickened, his rhythm erratic. “Yeah, you want you cum coat around my cock like a good little whore.”

“Yes, Jeonghan please, just give it to me.”

“You asked, and you shall receive.”

Finally, he bottomed out into you, unleashing the reins he held to prolong this moment and cut them lose. Your body was no longer yours, weakened by the spirit draining your energy. Your jaw fell slack, unable to close, a waning moaning stretching for miles, ecstasy coursing through your veins.

You said one name, then another, and then again. This was really confusing but you were here, pounded into obvious for what it seems like endlessly, until you realized you were full and not with what you had initially anticipated. In the remenance of fatigue from the sex, you fail to notice the lack of protetction seeing as proof of you supernatural rendezvous was seeping out of you like a slow river.

“Jeonghan!”

“What?” he drowsily answered as he claimed the side of the bed besides you, evidently using the extent of Seungkwan’s body.

“What the fuck happened to the condom?”

“Please, that’s my own cum.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ectoplasm, you know. Comes from all sorts of places.”

“I hate you so much—am I gonna get pregnant with ghost kids?”

“Relax, and no you aren’t. It’s as effective as…something really ineffective–fuck, I’m tired.”

“And Seungkwan. What about Seungkwan?”

“He’s fine and his release became as good as mine when I possessed his body. His soul is asleep right about now, having a catnap. Now come here.” he pulled you towards him, throwing your covers over you and keeping you away from the draft into to room, slipping you into his arms. “Stop tiring yourself out any further and rest. Everything will be fine when he wakes up like a man that got laid: amazing.”

“Fine,” muttered with heavy eye lids, “but only because im really tired.”

And from that moment sleep was easy.

You woke up to those same arms, now only asleep and less “ghost-like” and snuggled up closer to him, a newly acclaimed heat source. A soft chuckle escaped him, holding you tighter in his embrace as a kiss fell on the top of your forehead. “Hey there.”

You smile, cupping the side of his face in your hand. “Hi.”

“That was amazing, you’re amazing,” he said, planting another kiss on your nose. “Is it weird to say it felt so good I kinda blacked out?”

“Ha,” you shook your head, knowing the truth, “No, but thank you for the massive compliment.”

He grinned, a flush of red coating his cheeks, before pulling you into a deep and wonderful kiss, entanging his legs with yours. He seeped into realization when he found the mess between your legs, untouched since sex. “Oh shit, i did that, didn’t i?”

“It’s okay, I…have some sort of protection.”

“One moment.” Seungkwan came up naked from the bed, momentarily left the room, and with a noticeably wet hand towel. “I usually have an extra clean one on hand for after my workout. Glad I brought a backpack for no reason today.

As he inched closer, he sat between your legs, uncovering you from the blanket, and politely asked if he could help. When he received your consent, he brought it up to the mess, gently swiping between every crevice, ridding any remnants of cum that might have been left over.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you reassure, visibly gushing.

“Of course, I do.” He insisted, a sincere smile gracing his features. “It's my pleasure taking care of you.”

It was so disorienting going from the original to Jeonghan’s version and back to the original Seungkwan. As if you were once looking through a window of an alternate reality. Still a lot to process what happened.

“I don’t usually do this,” you try explaining yourself, “I just…I’ve been into you for a long time and I just thought, maybe, you felt the same.”

“I do,” he pressed his lips to your inner thigh. “A lot.”

“So you wouldn’t mind seeing me again?”

“I wouldn’t object to the idea,” he grinned, “especially if we get to do what we did to make me black out in the first place.”

715 notes · View notes

pedroscowgirl · 10 days ago

Text

In safe hands

Aaron hotchner x (fem)reader

(could be read as gn reader but aaron calls reader princess if you're fine with that)

Masterlist

warnings: fluff /slight angst but also a lil suggestive! so minors dni, mentiones of surgery, reader is high on anesthesia, secret relationship, lmk if i forgot something

Summary: After undergoing surgery, you wake up to find Hotch by your side—and under the influence of anesthesia, you accidentally let some unfiltered, unholy thoughts slip

wc: 1.7k it's a small one srry

A/n: i was actually planning on writing some crazy naughty stuff but i couldn't bring myself to ruin the sweet moment so. Edit: this was an ask from a friend :))

The world was a haze of muted colors and soft lights as your eyes fluttered open. Everything felt… heavy, yet oddly light at the same time. The last thing you remembered was the searing pain, the sound of shouts around you, and the warmth of Aaron’s hand gripping yours as you were rushed into surgery. Your head was spinning, and the sterile smell of the hospital filled your senses, reminding you that you were safe now. But that comforting thought wasn’t fully real until your eyes found him.

Aaron was there, sitting at the edge of your bed, his normally composed face lined with worry. His dark eyes softened the moment he saw you stir, as though some enormous weight had just lifted off his shoulders. His hand moved, almost instinctively, reaching out just enough to brush against your blanket-covered arm. You knew he was keeping it subtle, keeping his usual public reserve, even though you longed for his touch to be closer. You didn’t mind. Just knowing he was there was enough.

“Aaron…” you murmured, his name slipping out in a breathy whisper, almost a plea. A sleepy, lopsided smile tugged at your lips as you raised your hand weakly, the gesture an open invitation. And he understood instantly. He moved forward, his hand enveloping yours with a tenderness that, even in your groggy state, sent warmth spreading through you.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning close enough that his familiar scent, clean and comforting, washed over you. “Are you okay?” There was a hitch in his voice, and his gaze searched your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You felt a giggle bubble up, uncharacteristic but unstoppable under the heavy influence of the anesthesia. “Yes,” you said, your voice slurred but light with relief. “But gosh, I really am so horny for you right now.” The words tumbled out, raw and honest, before you even registered what you were saying. It was as if, in this dreamy, half-awake state, you couldn’t help but speak exactly what was on your mind.

And for a beat, the world felt perfect.

Then, as your senses sharpened, you became acutely aware of the quiet—unnaturally quiet. You blinked, focusing past Aaron, and that’s when you saw them. The entire BAU team stood around your bed, a collective look of utter shock written across their faces.

JJ’s mouth was slightly open, her eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of surprise and excitement. Beside her, Morgan was struggling—and failing—to hide a grin, while Garcia looked as though she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest secret of the decade. Reid was there, too, his head tilted in deep thought, clearly recalculating every recent interaction between you and Aaron. Emily was one of the first to piece things together, thanks to her observant nature and razor-sharp intuition, and her expression quickly shifted from mild surprise to amusement.

Embarrassment surged through you, but Aaron didn’t let go of your hand. His grip was steady, grounding, and as you looked up at him, his expression remained calm, even gently amused. You caught the faintest hint of a smile as he glanced down at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges in that rare, quiet way that he reserved just for you.

Morgan was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and crossing his arms with a sly grin. “So… looks like there’s a little something we missed here?”

Your cheeks flushed, but Aaron gave your hand an encouraging squeeze, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. He wasn’t going to leave you to face this alone. You took a deep breath, glancing at each member of your team, your family, before you spoke.

“Guess… the secret’s out,” you said, your voice still a bit wobbly from the anesthesia but carrying a hint of humor.

“Oh my God,” Garcia burst out, clapping her hands together with a gleeful little jump. “This is the best plot twist of all time! I knew something was going on! Didn’t I say something was going on?”

JJ let out a little laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “You two… Really?”

Aaron, ever composed, only smiled, his face calm as he finally addressed the team. “Yes,” he said simply, his deep voice carrying just a hint of pride. “We’ve… kept it quiet for a while.”

“Quiet?!” Garcia’s eyes were practically shining. “This is FBI-level stealth, boss man!”

Emily cleared her throat, causing everyone to pause and look her way. "Well, well, well," she said, her voice teasing but not unkind. "Hotch, I never would have pegged you for a rule-bender. But hey, I’m impressed.”

Reid, still analyzing the situation, gave a little nod, murmuring as he looked back and forth between you both, “I suppose that does explain the slight change in body language I’ve observed between you two over the last few months…”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a subtle, almost playful challenge directed at Reid. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Reid’s cheeks turned pink, and he adjusted his glasses. “Well, um… no,” he replied, with a sheepish little smile.

Morgan crossed his arms and chuckled, nudging JJ with his elbow. “Man, Hotch, I never thought I’d see the day! But you know what? I’m happy for you both. Really.” His grin was genuine, the teasing look in his eyes replaced by one of warmth and respect.

With the laughter and light-hearted jabs filling the room, the awkwardness melted away. The anesthesia-induced embarrassment faded, replaced by a sense of belonging, of trust. This team—your family—was nothing but supportive, and you felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude that they knew now.

Finally, you turned back to Aaron, who had never let go of your hand through it all. His gaze was soft, a glint of humor still in his eyes as he leaned down just slightly, murmuring so only you could hear, “Guess we��ll have to get used to a little less privacy.”

You smiled up at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I think I can live with that.”

“Alright,” he said, his voice as steady as ever, though a hint of relief softened his tone. “I think it’s time for everyone to let the patient get some rest.”

The team murmured their goodbyes, each leaving their own quirky remarks. JJ gave you a warm smile, mouthing “we’ll talk later,” while Garcia blew you a playful kiss, winking at you and Aaron as she left.

But Morgan lingered a little longer, crossing his arms and giving Aaron a mischievous grin. “Take it easy in here, Hotch,” he said with a laugh, then pointed a finger at him. “And behave, alright?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the anesthesia still making your giggles sound a bit loopy. Morgan winked at you before finally heading out, and with that, the room fell silent, leaving just you and Aaron.

The laughter faded, and the quiet settled around you both. Aaron still held your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your palm. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his gaze softened, his brow still creased with the worry he hadn’t quite shaken. He let out a long, shaky breath, his thumb pausing as he looked down at you.

“You scared me,” he admitted quietly, his voice a low murmur. “When I saw you go down…” His jaw tightened, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if replaying that moment was too painful. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his voice. You’d never seen him like this—Hotch, the stoic, unshakeable leader, allowing himself to show this depth of emotion. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, your fingers weak but wanting to comfort him in any way you could.

“I’m right here, Aaron,” you said, your voice a little hoarse but filled with as much warmth as you could muster. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked back at you, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a small, relieved smile. Leaning down, he brushed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if grounding himself in the fact that you were safe and alive.

Then, unable to resist, he moved lower, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. It was tender, slow, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. When he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling yours, he looked at you with an expression so full of love and relief that it made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled up at him, feeling a little cheeky despite everything. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice soft but playful. “Now you need to fix it.”

Aaron’s brows rose slightly, and a hint of a smirk crossed his face as he realized exactly what you meant. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “When you’re better, I’ll treat you like the best pillow princess that you are.”

A laugh bubbled up, and you reached up to lightly tap his arm, both touched and amused. “You’d better keep that promise, Hotchner.”

He chuckled, his own tension easing a little as he looked at you, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I don’t make promises lightly. You know that.”

And in that moment, as you lay there under his warm gaze, you felt the absolute certainty that you were cherished, protected, and loved in a way you never imagined.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper @mrs-ssa-hotch @gamingfeline @rousethemouse

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff

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pucksandpower · 23 days ago

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Mint Condition

Day 20 → Menthol Cream 💋 Oscar Piastri

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

Oscar stands in front of the mirror, his shirt pulled halfway over his head, wincing as he twists his torso a bit too fast. That familiar sharpness shoots through his side, the one he’s been ignoring all day. His rib is still busted, still sore as hell. He drops his shirt on the floor, tired of fighting with it, and glances at the small jar of menthol cream sitting on the bathroom counter.

His eyes flick to the bed, where you're propped up against the pillows, nose buried in a book. The dim light from the lamp casts a soft glow over your face, your lips slightly parted as your thumb traces the edge of the page, but what catches his attention is how your nightgown is slipping, barely covering you.

“What's that look for?” You ask, not even glancing up, sensing him staring.

Oscar smiles a little, wiping it away before you can catch him. “What look?”

“The one you're giving me.” You finally put the book down, your eyes meeting his in the reflection. “You’re thinking something.”

Oscar opens the jar, pretending to be more focused on scooping out the thick, mint-scented cream than the fact that your eyes are on him. “Just … thinking I should have been more careful. Could have avoided this whole thing,” he mutters, rubbing the cool cream over his ribs, trying to be casual about it.

You roll your eyes, shifting in bed, pulling the duvet tighter around your shoulders. “You did your job, Oscar. Sometimes things happen. Doesn't mean you need to beat yourself up over it.” There’s a pause, and then your voice drops, softer now. “You're always too hard on yourself.”

He nods, but his attention is elsewhere, on the way your nightgown has slipped even further, revealing more of you — barely there under the light fabric. Something stirs in his chest, not the ache of his ribs but something more … magnetic. His hands slow, smoothing the cream over his skin, and the smell of menthol fills the air, sharp and cool.

“You want me to put some on for you?” You ask, breaking his thoughts, your tone so casual it takes him a second to catch up.

“Huh?”

“The cream,” you say, tilting your head. “You’re moving so slow. I can help if-”

“No, no, I’ve got it.” His voice comes out too quickly, and you raise a brow, noticing.

He clears his throat, finishing up, capping the jar and walking over to the bed, trying to keep his movements easy, natural. But his mind is elsewhere now — wondering what would happen if he did try it. How it would feel. If you’d laugh or look at him like he’s lost it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his ribs absently. “You think I’m too hard on myself?”

“Yeah. You act like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders.” You close the book, setting it aside. “Like you’re the only one who has to get everything perfect.”

Oscar leans back, slowly easing himself into bed next to you. “Maybe that’s because everyone expects me to.”

You shake your head, sliding down the pillows a bit so you’re lying next to him, your head on his shoulder. “Not everyone. I don’t.”

He turns his head to look at you. “You don't think I should try to be perfect?”

“No one’s perfect,” you say simply, fingers absentmindedly tracing the hem of his shirt, which is now bunched up around his waist. “Not even you.”

He huffs a small laugh, though the thought nags at him. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he's been chasing something impossible, driving himself crazy in the process. But right now, in this moment, perfection feels closer than it ever has, lying here with you like this.

“I’m serious.” You shift so you’re propped up on one elbow, looking down at him. “You don't have to carry everything all the time. Sometimes it’s okay to let go.”

He blinks up at you, the words hanging in the air between you, and suddenly all he can think about is the feel of your skin under his fingers, the way you’re so close, the smell of that damn menthol cream still clinging to his hands.

You’re still talking, still trying to comfort him, but he’s distracted, watching your lips move, and his brain is running a mile a minute with this idea, this stupid, reckless idea.

Would you even like it? Would you even let him?

“You good?” Your voice cuts through the fog, and he realizes he’s just been staring at you. Your brow furrows slightly. “You’re being quiet.”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” His voice is lower than he means it to be, almost rough.

You’re still staring at him, searching his face. “Oscar, what’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

He’s quiet for a beat, his heart thudding in his chest. “It’s nothing.” But he knows that won’t fly. Not with you. You know him too well.

Your hand comes to rest on his chest, your fingers warm and familiar. “Tell me.”

He takes a breath. He should just say it. Just tell you what he’s thinking instead of sitting here with his mind spinning like this. But how do you even say something like that without sounding insane?

“I was just …” He hesitates, his fingers brushing over his ribs again, trying to find the words. “I was thinking about … the cream.”

You blink at him, confused. “The cream?”

He nods, his mouth dry. “Yeah. It’s just … I was wondering what it would feel like. On you.”

The words hang in the air, and for a second he thinks maybe he’s made a huge mistake, that you’re about to laugh or roll your eyes or something, but you don’t. You just look at him, really look at him, and for a second, neither of you says anything.

Finally, you break the silence. “You want to try it on me?”

His heart leaps a little, but he tries to stay calm, not wanting to seem too eager. “Only if you want to.”

You bite your lip, thinking it over, and then, to his surprise, you nod. “Okay.”

Oscar’s hand freezes on the jar as he processes what you’ve just said. He expected you to laugh it off, to shrug and change the subject, but you’re serious. You’re really letting him do this.

You shift under the covers, tugging your nightgown higher to give him better access, and he sits up, fumbling slightly with the lid as he tries to get it open without spilling any. His mind races as he scoops out a little of the cream, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Tell me if it’s too cold,” he murmurs, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

You nod, lying back against the pillows, your eyes half-closed as you wait. He leans in closer, the scent of menthol filling the air again as he smooths the cream over your skin, his fingers moving slowly, deliberately. Your skin is soft under his touch, warm, and the cream feels almost electric between you.

You shiver a little at the cold, but you don’t pull away, your breath hitching as his fingers move over you, tracing the curve of your ribs, up toward your collarbone, and then lower, spreading the cool sensation across your skin.

“How does it feel?” He asks, his voice thick.

You swallow, eyes still closed. “Good. Feels good.”

He can’t help but grin, his heart racing at the way you react to him, the way you seem to melt under his touch. It’s intoxicating, the way your body responds to him, the way you let him take care of you like this, and he realizes just how much he’s been craving this kind of connection with you, this moment of quiet intimacy between the two of you.

You shift a little, your body pressing against his as you turn toward him, your hand coming to rest on his chest again, your fingers brushing against his ribs. “You okay?” You ask softly, your voice gentle.

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. “I’m good.”

Oscar hesitates, his hands still resting on your skin. The air between you feels thick, the weight of what’s happening settling over him, but he doesn’t feel nervous. Not really. It’s more like anticipation, like every inch of his body is tuned into you, hyper-aware of every breath, every shift, every little sound you make. He watches you carefully, waiting for any sign that you’re unsure, that this is too much. But you just look back at him, your eyes half-lidded, and your lips parted slightly.

“You sure about this?” He asks quietly, his voice rough around the edges.

You don’t even hesitate. “Yeah.” Your voice is soft, but certain.

Oscar swallows hard and nods, his fingers slipping under the edge of your nightgown. He pauses, just for a second, before starting to ease it up, the fabric whispering against your skin as he pulls it over your stomach, then your chest, and finally over your head, tossing it aside.

His breath catches as he looks at you — completely exposed now, lying back against the pillows, trusting him with all of this. It’s almost too much to take in all at once. He has to remind himself to keep moving, to keep breathing.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his eyes trailing down your body, taking everything in. The way your chest rises and falls, the slight tension in your muscles as you wait for him to touch you again. He feels a tight pull in his chest, the kind of feeling that makes everything else blur, as though his entire focus has narrowed down to just this, just you.

Your skin feels warm under his touch, still tingling from the menthol cream, and he can’t help but feel a little thrill at the idea of what’s coming next. His fingers tremble slightly as he dips them back into the jar, scooping out more of the cream, his mind already imagining how it’s going to feel on you, how you’re going to react.

“You okay?” You ask softly, your voice pulling him back to the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “Just … trying to take my time.”

You smile at that, and something about the way you look at him right then makes his heart stutter in his chest. There’s no rush, no urgency. Just the two of you, here, together, in this quiet little world you’ve made.

He shifts, leaning over you, his hands hovering just above your chest, and for a second, he just looks at you. Then, slowly, he lowers his hands, spreading the cool cream over your skin, starting at the tops of your breasts and working his way down, his fingers moving with deliberate care.

You gasp softly, your back arching slightly at the sudden cold, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you lean into his touch, your breath hitching as his hands move lower, spreading the cream over your buds. Oscar watches, completely captivated by the way your body reacts, the way your skin tightens under his touch, the way your nipples start to harden, turning that perfect shade of pink.

“Jesus,” he breathes, his voice barely audible. “You look … you’re perfect.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it quickly turns into a shaky breath as his fingers move over you again, spreading more of the cream over your skin, lingering on your buds. He’s obsessed now, can’t stop staring at them, watching as they harden even more, turning a deeper shade of pink, almost like raspberries.

“How does it feel?” He asks, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You let out a soft moan, your head tilting back against the pillows. “Cold … but good. Really good.”

He grins, his heart pounding in his chest as he moves his hands lower, down your stomach, and then back up, focusing entirely on your chest, on the way your body seems to pulse under his touch. His fingers linger on your nipples, circling them slowly, gently, and he watches in awe as they respond to him, becoming more and more sensitive with every touch, every brush of his fingers.

“God, you’re amazing,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, his eyes never leaving your chest.

You let out another soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and it sends a thrill through him, knowing he’s the one doing this to you, that you’re letting him take care of you like this. He shifts again, leaning down slightly, his breath ghosting over your skin as he presses his lips to the curve of your breast, kissing the spot just above your peak.

“Oscar,” you breathe, your voice shaky.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, his lips still brushing against your skin.

“Don’t stop.”

He grins at that, his hands moving lower now, down your sides, over your hips, and then back up again, his fingers brushing over your stomach, your chest, everywhere. He’s completely lost in you now, in the way you feel under his touch, in the way you respond to him.

He moves back slightly, sitting up again as he reaches for the duvet, pulling it off the bed and tossing it to the floor. The air feels cooler now without the covers, and you shiver slightly, but it’s not just from the cold. He watches as your body trembles, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin flushed from the coolness of the cream and the heat building between you.

“Cold?” He asks, though he knows the answer. He can see it in the way your body reacts, the way you flutter beneath him, your skin covered in goosebumps.

“A little,” you admit, your voice soft, breathy.

He leans down again, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his hands move lower, his fingers tracing the line of your hips, your thighs. He can feel the tension in your body, the way you’re practically vibrating under his touch, and it drives him wild, makes him want to take his time even more, to make this last as long as possible.

He dips his fingers back into the jar of cream, scooping out more as he moves lower, his hands brushing over your inner thighs now, spreading the cream there, careful and deliberate. You let out a soft gasp, your back arching slightly off the bed, and Oscar can’t help but smile at the sound, the way your body responds to him so easily.

His fingers move higher now, spreading the cream over your bundle of nerves, and you let out a sharp gasp, your body jerking under his touch. He watches, completely captivated, as your clit starts to pulse, the skin tightening, turning a deeper shade of pink, almost red now, like a cherry, ripe and ready.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “You’re … you’re a goddess.”

You let out a soft moan, your body trembling under his touch, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts. “Oscar …”

He grins, his hands moving over you again, spreading more of the cream over your pearl, watching as it pulses under his touch, the skin glistening with the cream, the coolness making you shiver even more.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, his voice low, rough.

You nod, your eyes half-closed, your breath coming in quick, shaky gasps. “Yeah … it feels … God, it feels so good.”

He can’t stop now, can’t get enough of the way your body reacts to him, the way you seem to pulse and flutter under his touch. He watches, completely mesmerized, as your clit swells even more, the skin darkening to that perfect shade of red, just begging to be touched, tasted.

He leans down again, his lips brushing against your skin, his breath hot against your chest. “You’re incredible,” he whispers, his hands still moving over you, his fingers tracing your bundle, feeling the way it pulses under his touch.

You let out another soft moan, your body trembling even more, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your breath hitches in your throat. “Oscar … please …”

He knows what you’re asking for, knows exactly what you need, but he’s not ready to give in just yet. He wants to make this last, to draw it out as long as possible, to keep you on the edge for as long as he can.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I want to watch you a little longer.”

You let out a soft whimper, but you don’t argue, your body still trembling under his touch, your clit still pulsing, almost like it has a mind of its own, responding to his every movement.

Oscar leans back slightly, his eyes never leaving your body, completely captivated by the way you look right now, the way your skin glistens with the cream, the way your clit pulses under his touch, like it’s begging for him to take it.

“You’re perfect,” he whispers again, his voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breathing. “Absolutely perfect.”

Oscar watches you, completely captivated by the way you’re losing yourself in the sensation, your head tilted back, your eyes closed, your breath coming in shallow gasps. He can see how far gone you are, how the cool menthol cream has you teetering on the edge, your skin flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly as every little touch sends you spiraling further.

Your body is trembling beneath his hands, reacting to every brush of his fingers as if it’s too much and not enough all at once. He can see the way your pearl throbs, the way your chest arches as if you’re chasing something, needing more but not sure how to ask for it.

You’re unfocused now, completely surrendered to the feeling, and he takes a deep breath, his heart racing as he shifts slightly, giving himself just a second to gather his thoughts. This is everything he’s ever wanted, everything he’s been thinking about, but now that he’s here, right on the edge of something, the weight of the moment hits him. There’s no going back after this.

He glances at you again, just to make sure you’re still okay, that you’re still with him, but your eyes are closed, your lips parted as you let out another soft sound, completely unaware of what’s coming next.

Oscar bites his lip, his fingers fumbling slightly as he reaches for the bedside drawer, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once. This is the moment he’s been building toward, but now that it’s here, his heart is pounding so hard he can feel it in his throat. He hesitates for just a second, his fingers trembling as they brush over the small foil packet.

His eyes flick back to you, but you’re still lost in the sensation, your head tilted back, chest heaving. He swallows hard, ripping open the packet and rolling the condom down over himself, his breath hitching as he feels the cool latex against his skin. It’s almost too much, the mix of anticipation and nerves making him feel like his heart is going to burst out of his chest.

He hesitates again, his eyes darting between the jar of menthol cream on the nightstand and the flutter of your walls, still reacting to his earlier touch. His mind spins with the idea, something reckless, something he knows he shouldn’t do but can’t resist. He scoops out a bit more of the cream, his hand shaking slightly as he spreads it over the latex, covering it in the same thing that’s been driving you crazy.

His breath catches, and for a second, he wonders if this is too much, if maybe he’s pushing things too far. But you’re still lost in your own world, completely unaware, completely vulnerable beneath him. He swallows hard, his mind buzzing with excitement and nerves as he shifts closer, his body hovering over yours.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You nod, though your eyes stay closed, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “Yeah,” you murmur, your voice thick with the haze of pleasure. “I’m … I’m okay.”

Oscar takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he lines himself up with you, his hands trembling slightly as he presses forward, the cool, tingling sensation spreading through you as he slides in.

You gasp sharply, your eyes flying open, and for a moment, Oscar thinks he’s made a mistake, that it’s too much, too overwhelming. But then your body arches against him, a soft moan escaping your lips as you bury your face in his shoulder, your hands gripping his arms tightly.

“Oscar …”

He grins, the sound of your voice, the way you say his name, sending a thrill through him. “Feel good?” He asks, his voice rough as he pushes in further, the cool menthol sensation making your skin tingle, every inch of you hypersensitive to the way his body moves above you.

You can only manage a soft whimper in response, your nails digging into his arms as you nod, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “Yeah … oh my God … it feels … so good.”

Oscar’s heart races as he moves, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts as he watches your face, completely mesmerized by the way your expression changes, the way your body responds to him. You’re still trembling, still fluttering beneath him, your eyes half-closed as the pleasure takes over, and he can see the way the menthol cream is affecting you, the coolness amplifying every sensation, making your body tense and arch beneath him.

He bites his lip, trying to keep himself under control, but it’s hard — harder than he expected. The cool tingling of the menthol, combined with the heat of your body, is almost overwhelming, and every little sound you make, every soft gasp and moan, sends him spiraling further.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he watches you, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts deeper.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering shut again as you try to focus, but it’s clear you’re too far gone, too lost in the sensation to form coherent words. “I can’t … it’s too … oh God …”

Oscar can’t help but grin at that, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at the way he’s undone you, the way you’ve completely surrendered to him. He leans down, pressing his lips to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he murmurs softly, “I’ve got you. Just let go.”

You nod, your fingers tangling in his hair as your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps, your body trembling beneath him as you cling to him, your nails biting into his skin. The cool sensation of the cream on your skin, combined with the slow, deliberate rhythm of his movements, is pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and Oscar can feel it — can see it in the way your body tenses and arches beneath him, the way your breath hitches every time he moves.

He moves a little faster now, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he watches your face, completely captivated by the way your expression shifts, the way your body pulses and trembles beneath him. It’s intoxicating, the way you’ve given yourself over to him, the way you trust him completely, and it drives him wild, makes him want to push you even further, to see how far he can take you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as he leans down, kissing the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. “God, you’re amazing.”

You let out a soft moan, your body arching against him as you gasp his name, your voice shaky, breathless. “Oscar … I’m … I’m so close …”

He grins, his heart racing as he moves faster, his hands gripping you tightly as he thrusts deeper, the cool, tingling sensation spreading through both of you as the cream amplifies every touch, every movement. He can feel it too now, that same edge, that same sense of urgency building inside him, but he pushes it down, focusing entirely on you, on the way your body moves beneath him, the way your breath catches every time he thrusts.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his voice rough, thick with desire as he watches you, completely captivated by the way you’re unraveling beneath him. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You gasp his name again, your body trembling, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as you cling to him, your nails biting into his skin. And then, all at once, you let go, your body tensing and arching beneath him as the pleasure overtakes you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you bury your face in his shoulder, your whole body trembling with the force of it.

Oscar grits his teeth, his heart pounding in his chest as he watches you, completely mesmerized by the way you come undone beneath him, the way your body pulses and trembles with every wave of pleasure. He’s never seen anything like it, never felt anything like this, and it sends him over the edge, his body tightening, his breath catching in his throat as he gives in, his hips bucking against yours as the pleasure crashes over him.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies tangled together, your breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through both of you. Oscar presses his forehead against yours, his breath hot and heavy as he tries to steady himself, his heart still racing, his skin still tingling from the menthol cream.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his voice hoarse, rough around the edges.

You nod, your eyes still closed, your breath coming in shaky, uneven bursts. “Yeah … I’m good. That was …”

Oscar grins, his hands still resting on your hips as he watches you, completely captivated by the way you look right now — flushed, breathless, completely spent. “That was amazing. First time I’ve ever been thankful to have a fractured rib.”

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enreveriee · 1 month ago

Text

♫︎ FROM SCREENS TO SCENES | L.HS

IN WHICH: you decide to give online dating a shot but have never met your boyfriend in person, nor do you even know what he looks like. when your friends pressure you into finally asking him out for a real-life date, things take a surprising turn. what you expected to be a simple meetup becomes an adventure filled with unexpected twists. GENRE: fluff + crack , ᨓ , WARNING(S): pet names, kissing, cuddling, too much fluff, struggles of bringing online relationship offline, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything ┊ WORD COUNT: 12k masterlist

[RIRI’S NOTE ┈─★ I was too proud when I started to write but then towards the end I just wanted to hide because of embarrassment. I promise I'm gonna make a horror or supernatural fic for halloween since I feel like fluff is driving me crazy now TT]

taglist: @chexnluv , @iconchae, @wonwonpuffs , @sol3chu , @firstclassjaylee , @wensurr , @hoshieee , @academiq

YOU SAT CURLED UP ON THE COUCH, your phone resting comfortably in your hands, its soft glow reflecting off your smiling face. You could feel your cheeks warming as a small giggle escaped your lips, your heart fluttering as you stared down at the message thread from him. Even after two years of dating online, Heeseung still had this inexplicable effect on you—his words always managing to stir that giddy feeling in your chest. You tapped out a reply quickly, the excitement of the conversation making your fingers fly over the screen.

Just as you hit send, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, interrupting your blissful bubble. You quickly locked your phone and dropped it onto your lap, trying to appear casual, but you already knew it was too late.

“Still texting your hubby?” Semi’s voice called out from across the room, her teasing tone unmistakable. You glanced up just in time to see her strolling over with a mischievous grin, arms swinging at her sides. She plopped down next to you on the couch without hesitation, grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it close to her chest. The way she eyed you was almost predatory—she had caught you red-handed, and she knew it.

Before you could even muster a response, Heesoo appeared right behind her, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, eyes gleaming with equal amusement. “Hubby, huh?” she chimed in, her voice smooth and knowing, as if the two had conspired together. She tilted her head, her brow quirking up as she let the word roll off her tongue like it was some sort of inside joke.

You could feel your face heat up instantly, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up in your chest as they watched you squirm. “He’s not my hubby,” you muttered, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, as if their teasing wasn’t getting to you. You fumbled to close your phone, clutching it tightly in your hands as if it could shield you from the embarrassment. The more you tried to act casual, the more you felt your nerves betray you—your fingers gripping the phone a little too tightly, your posture too stiff.

Semi shot you a side glance, raising her brows as if she didn’t believe a single word you just said. “Uh-huh, sure,” she drawled, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. Her lips quirked up into a sly smile as she nudged your arm, causing you to shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Soon-to-be, then,” Heesoo added with a smirk, her voice dripping with playful confidence as she sauntered over. She stood in front of you now, hands resting casually on her hips, eyes narrowed like she was about to spill a secret you hadn’t even realized you were keeping.

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “Oh, shut up,” you mumbled under your breath, sinking deeper into the cushions as if that could somehow protect you from their relentless teasing. Your words might have sounded dismissive, but the way your lips twitched at the corners betrayed the smile you were holding back.

They weren’t wrong, after all. You had been dating Heeseung for two years now—two years of late-night texts, playful banter, and heart-fluttering moments that made you feel like a teenager all over again. And yet, as much as you adored him, there was still that small detail you couldn’t ignore: you hadn’t met him in person yet. You had never even seen a clear picture of him, not beyond a couple of blurry selfies he’d sent over the years. Sure, they looked good—he looked good—but there was always that tiny, nagging thought in the back of your mind.

“Look at her,” Semi cooed, turning her head towards Heesoo as if to share the victory of seeing you squirm. “She’s blushing.”

You scoffed, running a hand over your face to hide the growing warmth in your cheeks. “I am not,” you protested, knowing full well that you were. The way they both stared at you, amused and smug, only made it worse.

Heesoo, always the bold one, plopped herself on the coffee table directly in front of you, folding her legs beneath her as she leaned forward with that signature teasing smirk. “What’s it gonna take for you to finally meet him, huh?” she asked, voice light but laced with curiosity. “You’ve been together for two years now. Doesn’t it feel like it’s time?”

You shifted in your seat, feeling their gazes burn into you as you struggled to come up with a decent excuse. “I mean, we’ve talked about it…” you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to sound convincing. Truth be told, the idea of meeting him did excite you, but it also made your stomach twist with nerves. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if he didn’t like you in person? Those doubts, however small, had kept you from pushing the issue.

“Oh, please,” Semi cut in with a roll of her eyes, reaching over to lightly shove your shoulder. “If you’re nervous about it, just admit it. We all know you’re totally whipped for him.”

You sighed, letting your head fall back against the couch as you stared up at the ceiling, their laughter filling the room. “Fine,” you groaned, giving in to their teasing. “Maybe I’m a little nervous, okay?”

“A little?” Semi echoed, her tone full of playful disbelief. “Girl, you’re terrified.”

Heesoo grinned, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice softening just a little, “When you two finally meet, it’s gonna be perfect. And when it happens, we better be the first ones to know, got it?”

You smiled, your heart warming at their relentless support, even if it was wrapped in teasing. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll be the first to know.”

Semi’s gaze was sharp, fixated on you as if she was about to make the most important suggestion of the century. Her brow arched, curiosity and a hint of determination flashing in her eyes. “By the way,” she began, her voice deceptively casual but filled with the weight of her endless curiosity, “why don’t you just ask him to meet up already?”

She leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, chin propped up by her hands, fully expecting a detailed answer. Semi wasn’t just invested in your relationship with Heeseung—no, she was very, very, very invested. In fact, ever since you mentioned Heeseung, she’d turned into your personal dating detective, always nudging you with questions and advice as if it were her own love life on the line.

You let out a small laugh, nervously shifting under her scrutiny. “Yeah… I mean, I’ve thought about it,” you mumbled, eyes darting down to your phone, the little weight of doubt creeping up on you.

Heesoo, who had been lazily sprawled out on the opposite couch, suddenly let out a loud, exaggerated sigh, her hand dramatically flopping onto her forehead like a character straight out of a soap opera. “Exactly,” she muttered, rolling her eyes for extra effect. “You're not even part of the #hatemenclub anymore, so why not?” Her voice dripped with playful sarcasm, and she shot you a sideways glance, clearly enjoying every second of her role in this drama.

The #hatemenclub. A relic from your high school days—the sacred pact you three made to never, ever fall into the trap of romance. It had been a joking sort of vow, born out of teenage cynicism and a few too many bad rom-coms. And yet, somehow, it stuck. Or at least, it stuck for them.

You, however, had found a loophole: Heeseung. The moment you told them about him, they had teased you endlessly, threatening to kick you out of the “club,” but that day never came. It became more of a running joke now, how you were the only one who had managed to “break the rules” without suffering the consequences.

“I’m still in the club, though,” you tried to defend, your voice soft as you fidgeted with the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “If we, uh, exclude Heeseung, I mean.”

Semi let out a loud snort, barely managing to stifle her laughter as she nudged you with her elbow. “Yeah, okay, if we exclude Heeseung,” she mimicked, raising her hands in air quotes before leaning back with a knowing smirk. “You’re so still in the club.”

Heesoo rolled her eyes again, this time in a way that felt almost second nature to her. She sat up straighter, her long hair falling over her shoulder as she gave you the most unimpressed look. “Oh, c’mon,” she said, her voice laced with mock exasperation. “You can’t possibly still think you’re in the #hatemenclub after dating a guy for two years.”

You sighed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as the two of them continued their relentless teasing. “I’m serious! I’ll—” you paused, feeling the weight of their teasing eyes on you, “I’ll try. I just… I need to ask him first.”

There was a nervous edge to your voice, and you knew they both picked up on it instantly. Your fingers twirled the fabric of your blanket between them, your mind racing with the thought of actually asking Heeseung to meet. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet him—it was that, despite everything, the idea still made your stomach flip in a thousand knots.

Meeting him felt like the culmination of two years of virtual feelings—two years of inside jokes, late-night conversations, and building something you couldn’t quite explain. What if reality didn’t match the fantasy?

Semi’s eyes softened for a moment as she watched your nervous fidgeting, though her playful smirk never fully disappeared. “You’ve got this,” she said, her tone light but encouraging, as if this was some grand mission you had to complete. “Just ask him! What’s the worst that could happen?”

You glanced up at her, catching the sparkle of sincerity hidden beneath her teasing. It was rare for Semi to offer advice without an accompanying joke, and you appreciated it more than you’d ever admit out loud.

Heesoo, meanwhile, wasn’t about to let up that easily. She scooted closer, leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees, her face now mere inches from yours. “Exactly,” she added, her eyes glimmering with amusement. “And when he says yes—and we all know he will—we get to hear all the juicy details first. Don’t even think about hiding anything.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head as you playfully shoved her away. “I’m not hiding anything!” you protested, your voice coming out more defensively than you intended.

“Mm-hmm,” Heesoo hummed, raising an eyebrow as if to say she didn’t quite believe you. “We’ll see about that.”

The banter continued, filling the room with laughter and lighthearted teasing as you tried, and failed, to convince them you were still a proud member of the #hatemenclub. But deep down, as you glanced at your phone and reread Heeseung’s latest message, the butterflies stirred again. Maybe it was time to take that next step. Maybe… just maybe, they were right.

For now, you could enjoy the moment—surrounded by the warmth of your best friends and the soft glow of your phone, where Heeseung’s name sat waiting.

THE DAY HAD FINALLY COME, and your heart was racing with a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. You had spent hours preparing, trying to make sure you looked as pretty as possible. Not too much makeup, but just enough to give you a soft, girly look. Your outfit was carefully chosen, a delicate dress that gave off casual yet charming vibes. You didn’t want to overwhelm him, but you also didn’t want to underwhelm, either.

As you approached the small restaurant you had both agreed on, you paused outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath. The place was cozy, not too fancy, which was perfect since you didn’t want to feel out of place. The fact that it wasn’t crowded was a relief, too—no need for unnecessary pressure.

You opened your phone, fingers shaking slightly as you typed out the message, “Baby, I arrived. Where are you?”

Not even a minute later, the reply popped up on your screen, and you smiled. He’s here.

“I’m wearing a blue shirt, it’s the seat in the corner.”

Your heart did a little flip as you looked around the restaurant, scanning for that blue shirt. And then you saw him, sitting by himself in the far corner of the room, casually leaning back in his chair, glancing at his phone. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you approached, trying to calm the butterflies swirling in your stomach. But something felt off as you got closer. His face—it didn’t quite match the picture.

Sure, the picture he sent had been blurry, but this guy… he looked different. More handsome, yes, but different. You hesitated, standing awkwardly near the table for a second, your mind spinning with doubts. Was this really him?

“Umm... you’re Heeseung, right?” you asked, your voice sounding more timid than you’d hoped. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the feeling gnawed at you.

The guy glanced up from his phone, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, you must be Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. There was no hint of hesitation in his tone, as if he hadn’t noticed your uncertainty at all.

You felt a small pit of confusion in your stomach. The voice matched. The name matched. But his face... why did he look so different from what you imagined? You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been catfished—by a ridiculously handsome guy, no less. It didn’t make sense, but the thought was there, lurking in the back of your mind.

You opened your mouth to ask about the photo, to try and figure out the discrepancy, but he cut you off before you could even get the words out. “Can we order first?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes flickering toward the menu on the table.

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden shift in conversation. “Uhh… sure,” you muttered, feeling slightly deflated. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world to put the awkwardness on hold, but the unease in your chest lingered. He hadn’t even addressed the fact that he looked so different from the picture. Why was he avoiding it?

You glanced down at the menu, but your mind wasn’t really on food. Instead, your eyes kept flickering back to him. His messy hair, styled just enough to look effortlessly good, caught your attention. His features were sharp, his jawline defined. He had this boyish charm about him that made you want to melt right there in the chair.

He’s so much more handsome in person, you thought to yourself, almost feeling embarrassed at the realization. But that made everything more confusing. Why wouldn’t he just send a proper picture? It didn’t add up.

Heeseung glanced up from his own menu, catching your gaze, and you quickly looked away, feeling a flush of heat rush to your cheeks. It was like being thrown back into the early days of your online relationship, back when every text from him made your heart race. Except now, you were sitting across from him, and it felt… real.

Too real.

But the unease was still there. You fiddled with the edge of the napkin in your lap, trying to figure out how to ask the question without sounding paranoid. Your mind raced through a dozen different possibilities. Old photo? Bad camera quality?

“So... about that picture you sent,” you finally managed to say, your voice soft, testing the waters. You lifted your gaze to meet his again, trying to keep your expression neutral.

Heeseung looked at you for a moment, his eyes studying your face, but before you could get any further, he leaned back in his chair with a casual smile. “Yeah, I know, the picture wasn’t the best,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair in that effortless way guys always do. “I’m not great with selfies.”

The way he said it made you pause. He didn’t seem fazed at all by your question, almost as if he expected it. His easygoing demeanor threw you off, and for a moment, you felt silly for even doubting him. Maybe you were overthinking it.

“Ahh,” you nodded slowly, trying to hide the relief creeping in. “I guess that makes sense.”

He gave you a smile, and suddenly, the awkwardness started to melt away. It wasn’t perfect, not yet, but the butterflies in your stomach shifted from nervous to something lighter. You glanced down at the menu again, pretending to be interested in the food, but your mind was still buzzing with thoughts of him—this real, handsome Heeseung sitting in front of you.

As the waiter approached to take your orders, you couldn’t help but sneak another glance at him. His hair, the way it fell just slightly over his forehead, his relaxed posture, the way his fingers tapped idly against the table. You felt a tiny smile tug at your lips. Maybe it wasn’t exactly how you imagined it, but something about this moment—awkward and all—felt right.

And the butterflies? Well, they were still there. But now, they were dancing a little differently.

As you stared down at the menu, the words began to blur together. The pressure of the moment was getting to you, and suddenly, nothing made sense. You hadn’t expected to freeze like this—after all, how hard could it be to choose something off a menu? But the truth was, this was your first time at the restaurant, and the foreign names of the dishes only added to your mounting anxiety.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as the waiter approached your table, notepad in hand. Your heart began to race, and the butterflies, which had been fluttering harmlessly before, now felt like a storm of nerves. What if I order the wrong thing? What if he thinks I’m weird?

Just as you were about to blurt out something—anything—your panic was cut short by the gentle sensation of a hand grasping yours. You blinked in surprise, eyes widening as you looked up from the menu to see Heeseung’s hand resting over yours on the table, his fingers curling lightly around yours. The warmth of his touch sent a calming wave through you, as if he could feel your nervousness and knew exactly how to soothe it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand in the most subtle, comforting way. You couldn’t help but feel your pulse slow down just a little, the chaos inside you quieting as he gave you a small, understanding smile. It was the kind of smile that said, I’ve got you.

He let out a soft sigh, as if he knew this was overwhelming for you, and then, without skipping a beat, he turned to the waiter. “We’ll have the grilled salmon for her,” he said confidently, his tone polite but decisive. “And I’ll take the steak, medium rare, please.”

The way he ordered without hesitation, without even needing to ask what you wanted, left you absolutely stunned. You couldn’t help but stare at him for a second, your mind racing to catch up. It took a moment for it to sink in—he had remembered. He had remembered what you liked, something you had mentioned casually during one of your countless late-night conversations online. Something so small, so fleeting, and yet, here he was, recalling it with such ease as if it had always been on his mind.

As the waiter walked away, you were left speechless, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults now for an entirely different reason. You hadn’t just lucked out with a handsome guy—you had hit the jackpot.

Sitting across from you was the same Heeseung you’d spent the last two years talking to, laughing with, dreaming about. Only now, he was real, and somehow, better than you had imagined. The boy you’d only known through texts and blurry pictures was suddenly flesh and blood, and he was everything—handsome, cute, charming, thoughtful—and all yours.

“Did you really just… remember that?” you asked softly, still a bit in awe, your hand still tingling from his touch. You tried to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your lips, but it was impossible. The butterflies had taken over now, and all you could feel was that giddy, almost dizzying sense of affection.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, shrugging slightly but with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Of course. It’s not like you ever shut up about how much you love salmon,” he teased, his voice light and playful. He smirked a little, clearly enjoying the fact that he’d surprised you.

You felt a laugh bubble up from your chest, shaking your head at how effortlessly he put you at ease. “Well… maybe I mentioned it once or twice,” you admitted, a playful edge creeping into your voice.

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world outside of your little bubble seemed to disappear. The way he was looking at you—like he had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had—made your heart race all over again. It was as if everything you had built over the last two years was now culminating in this one perfect evening.

Before you could lose yourself entirely in the moment, the waiter reappeared, placing your plates down in front of you. The delicious aroma of the food filled the air, but your attention was still on Heeseung. Even as the waiter left, you barely glanced at your food, too caught up in the way he smiled at you across the table.

He picked up his fork, but before he dug into his steak, he gave you a knowing look. “You’re still staring at me,” he pointed out with a chuckle, his voice dripping with that teasing affection that made your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, flustered, quickly picking up your own fork to hide the fact that, yes, you had been completely lost in thought. “I’m not staring!” you protested, though the blush on your cheeks probably gave you away. You poked at your salmon, trying to focus, but your thoughts were still a mess of emotions—excitement, disbelief, and that growing sense of affection that felt even stronger now that he was here, in front of you.

Heeseung laughed softly, shaking his head. “Sure, sure,” he said, clearly not believing you. “But, you know, I kind of like it.” He shot you a wink, and just like that, the butterflies were back in full force, making your heart do flips all over again.

THE DOOR TO YOUR SHARED ROOM HADN'T EVEN FULLY CLOSED BEHIND YOU WHEN, Semi popped out from behind her desk like a rabbit springing from its burrow. Her eyes were wide with excitement, her whole body practically vibrating with curiosity. You should’ve expected it—Semi was never one to wait for gossip, especially when it concerned something as juicy as your first offline date with Heeseung.

“So, so, so—how did it go?” she asked, her voice pitched high with enthusiasm as she bounced on her toes. It was like she’d been holding in all her questions for hours, just waiting for you to walk through that door. You hadn’t even had a chance to put your bag down before she was in front of you, blocking your path, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

With a sigh, you dropped onto your bed, letting the soft mattress swallow you up for a second. “We talked and ate,” you muttered, trying to play it cool. The truth was, the date had left your heart in shambles, but you weren’t ready to share every detail just yet. You needed a moment to process it all, to figure out how you felt now that the boy you’d been dating for two years online had finally become more than just a name on your phone.

Semi, however, wasn’t about to let you off that easily. She let out an exaggerated scoff, folding her arms over her chest as she stared down at you, her brows raised in disbelief. “Only that? No kisses? No hugs? Nothing?” Her tone was mockingly disappointed, and she threw her hands up in the air as if you had committed the gravest sin by not locking lips with him. “I expected more from you, Y/N!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “It was our first time meeting offline,” you said, your voice defensive as you sat up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Give me a break. We needed to, you know, talk like normal people first.”

But Semi wasn’t buying it. She huffed, plopping down beside you on the bed with a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, but you’ve literally been dating for two years,” she stressed, leaning in closer with that signature mischievous grin of hers. “You’d think you two would’ve been all over each other by now!”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at her words. She wasn’t exactly wrong, but still—it was overwhelming enough to finally see Heeseung in person, to hear his voice without the filter of a screen between you. The thought of doing anything more intimate, in public no less, felt like it would’ve sent your nervous system into a complete shutdown.

“Heeseung's not… he’s not like that,” you muttered, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to deflect. But Semi, ever persistent, was already on to her next question.

“So, was he cute though?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows with a teasing smile. Her eyes gleamed with mischief as she poked your arm, clearly enjoying how flustered you were becoming. She knew you too well—knew exactly how to get under your skin.

You cleared your throat, trying to muster up a calm, composed response. “He looked…” You trailed off, unsure of how to put into words just how ridiculously handsome he had been. The way his messy hair framed his face, the effortless confidence in the way he carried himself, the warmth in his eyes that had made your heart race all over again—it was almost too much to describe.

But before you could finish, Semi leaned in even closer, practically vibrating with excitement. “He looked what?” she teased, her voice dragging out the question. “Handsome? Gorgeous? Like a total heartthrob?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Okay, fine!” you finally relented, your voice muffled through your palms. “He’s really handsome, okay? Like… ridiculously handsome. But—” You lifted your head to glare playfully at her. “Don’t make me sound like I’m simping for him.”

Semi let out a loud, satisfied laugh, clapping her hands together as if she had won some unspoken game. “Oh my God,” she giggled, leaning back onto her elbows with a grin so wide it practically lit up the room. “You totally are simping for him! Admit it, Y/N!”

You felt a flood of butterflies at her words. Maybe she was right. Maybe you were simping a little. But could you really blame yourself? You’d spent two years falling for Heeseung’s charm through a screen, and now that you’d finally met him in person, it felt like all of those feelings were amplified tenfold.

Still, you weren’t about to let Semi get the last word. With a playful roll of your eyes, you grabbed one of your pillows and lightly swatted her with it. “Alright, alright, enough!” you said, trying to suppress your own laughter. “Yes, he’s cute. Yes, I like him. Happy now?”

Semi dodged the pillow with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she stood up from the bed and made her way back to her desk. “Oh, I’m more than happy,” she said, smirking as she glanced over her shoulder at you. “But the real question is—when are you gonna kiss him?”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately threw the pillow at her again, missing by a mile. “Semi!”

She cackled, her laughter filling the room as you both dissolved into fits of giggles. And even as you buried your face in your hands again, cheeks burning with embarrassment, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, a little more excited about what was to come.

But then, your phone buzzed in your hand. The screen lit up with Heeseung’s name, and immediately, a surge of excitement and nervousness hit you like a wave. Your heart skipped a beat, but then you froze. Semi was still there, and you knew her well enough to know that she would pounce on any opportunity to tease you mercilessly if she saw Heeseung’s name on your phone.

You glanced at her, quickly assessing your options. The playful glint in her eyes already hinted that she was curious. There was no way you'd have a peaceful conversation with him if she was around.

With a sigh, you shot her a glance. “I’ll go take this call,” you said, casually waving your phone as if it were nothing. “It must be a job offer.”

The lie came out so smoothly that even you were shocked by how easily it slipped off your tongue. Semi didn’t question it either, though she narrowed her eyes suspiciously for a second before shrugging and turning her attention back to her phone.

Relieved, you swiftly exited the room, pulling the door behind you as quietly as possible to ensure she wouldn’t follow. Once out of the room, you made your way down the hallway, trying to find a quiet spot where you could talk to him in peace. With one last look over your shoulder to confirm you weren’t being spied on, you finally pressed the phone to your ear.

“H-hello?” you stammered slightly, your voice a bit softer than usual. The weight of knowing what he looked like in person now—it made this whole conversation feel different, heavier, in a way that made your heart race.

“Hey,” Heeseung’s familiar voice greeted you from the other end, and the sound immediately sent a rush of warmth through your chest. “You home?”

You hesitated for a second, quickly glancing around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “J-just reached,” you finally responded, trying to keep your voice steady, though the nervousness crept into your tone. Now that you knew what he looked like—his real face, the way his smile tugged at the corners of his lips—it was harder to keep your composure.

There was a brief pause on the other end. “What about you?” you asked, attempting to regain some control over your fluttering heart.

“I reached too,” he said simply, though the awkwardness in his voice was undeniable. It wasn’t the same as it had been before you’d met him. Something had shifted. Maybe this was how online couples felt after meeting for the first time—unsure of how to navigate the new dynamic, the new reality of knowing the person behind the screen in a way you hadn’t before.

You leaned against the cool wall in the hallway, running a hand through your hair as you tried to figure out what to say next. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken questions—Did you have fun? Did I make a good impression? Will we meet again? But none of those questions made it past your lips.

Instead, you both lingered in the silence, the awkwardness palpable but not entirely uncomfortable. It was almost endearing in a way, knowing that you both felt the same jittery nerves after your first offline date.

“So, um… are we gonna keep doing this?” you finally asked, your voice quiet, but the question was bold enough to fill the space between you. “Meeting up offline, I mean?”

You could almost hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “I hope so,” he said, his tone soft but filled with sincerity. “I liked seeing you in person.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you smiled to yourself, feeling the butterflies you thought had calmed down stir up again. The simple statement carried so much more weight now that you had shared a meal together, exchanged shy glances, and actually existed in the same space, side by side.

“Me too,” you whispered, almost as if admitting it out loud would somehow make the moment more real. And in that moment, as awkward as it was, you couldn’t help but feel that this was the start of something new—something that stretched beyond the screen, into the real world where you both could truly be together.

The silence returned, but this time, it was softer, more comfortable, as if the awkwardness had melted away, leaving behind a warmth that lingered long after the call would end.

“I guess… I’ll talk to you later?” you said after a beat, your voice lighter now, a smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” he replied. “But not too much later, okay?”

You laughed softly, feeling the last bit of tension slip away. “Not too much later,” you promised, before finally hanging up, the warmth of his voice still lingering in your chest as you walked back to your room.

The moment you stepped back into the room, Semi was there, perched on her bed, looking like she had been waiting for this exact moment. Her arms were crossed, and that mischievous grin was unmistakable—she wasn’t buying your ‘job offer’ story for a second.

“So…” she dragged the word out, her eyes narrowing playfully as you tried your best to keep a straight face. “Was that really a job offer?”

You sighed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you tried to avoid eye contact. "Yeah, sure, let's call it that," you muttered, slipping your phone into your pocket as you moved towards your bed, hoping she'd let it go. But you knew better—Semi was never one to back off when there was potential for gossip, especially when it involved your love life.

She let out a dramatic scoff. “Come on, you can’t fool me. You were talking to Heeseung, weren’t you?” She jumped up from her bed, practically bouncing over to you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Tell me everything—what did he say? Did he ask to meet up again? Were you blushing the entire time like you are now?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as you felt the heat in your cheeks deepen. “It wasn’t anything special, okay?” you mumbled through your hands, though you knew your attempt to downplay the call wouldn’t work. “We just… talked about getting home, that’s all.”

Semi was relentless, of course. “Uh-huh, sure,” she teased, pulling your hands away from your face so she could get a proper look at you. “You’re totally hiding something. I can see it! You’ve got that weird ‘I just talked to my crush’ glow. Did he say something cute? Oh my god, he did, didn’t he?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how easily she read you, and finally, you gave in, sitting down on your bed with a defeated sigh. “Fine, fine. He was sweet, okay? It was just a normal conversation, but it felt… I don’t know. Different now, I guess?”

Semi raised an eyebrow, sitting beside you with her full attention. “Different how?” she asked, her voice softer now, less teasing and more curious.

“Well,” you began, thinking back to the way Heeseung’s voice had sounded over the phone, a mix of awkwardness and warmth. “It’s just… after seeing him in person, everything feels a little more real, you know? Like, all this time we’ve been talking online, but now it’s not just a screen between us anymore. I’ve actually met him, and it’s… weird but in a good way?”

Semi grinned. “So, you’re saying you’re falling even harder for him now, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “I mean, he’s really cute in person,” you admitted, your heart fluttering just at the thought of how Heeseung had looked when you met. “And he remembered what I liked to eat, which was unexpected and kind of… sweet.”

Semi gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as if she were swooning. “He remembered your favorite food? Oh, girl, you’ve hit the jackpot!” She nudged you playfully, her excitement infectious. “What’s next, huh? When’s your next date? Are we already planning the wedding?”

You laughed, shoving her lightly. “Calm down! We haven’t even planned a second date yet.”

“But you will,” she said, her grin widening as if she were already planning everything out in her head. “I mean, how could you not? You’ve been talking to this guy for two years, and now that you’ve met in person, the sparks are basically flying!”

You blushed again, but this time, it wasn’t just because of the teasing. Semi wasn’t wrong. Something had shifted, and the idea of seeing Heeseung again now that you’d met face-to-face made your heart race in the best way possible.

“Well, I don’t know,” you said softly, feeling a bit shy as you thought about it. “I guess we’ll see what happens. But yeah… I think I’d like to see him again.”

Semi squealed, throwing her arms around you in a sudden hug. “Yay! I’m so happy for you! My best friend is getting married!”

“Stop!” you protested, laughing as you wriggled out of her embrace. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet,” she echoed, wagging her eyebrows at you. “But soon, I bet.”

YOU STOOD AT THE ENTRANCE OF HEESEUNG'S APARTMENT, clutching the bouquet of flowers nervously. Your heart was hammering in your chest, and a million thoughts rushed through your head. Was this really a good idea? Going to a guy’s place you had only met offline once? What if he turned out to be… well, something out of a true crime story? Your mind raced with irrational fears, imagining worst-case scenarios, but then you shook your head.

No, it’s Heeseung, you reminded yourself. The same guy you’d been talking to for two years. The guy who remembered your favorite food and texted you goodnight religiously. You weren’t going to let a silly rush of nerves ruin this. Besides, wasn’t this the next step? Taking things from the screen to real life?

Taking a deep breath, you pressed the button for his apartment number. A small buzz rang through, followed by a few agonizing moments of silence until you heard footsteps approaching from the other side. When the door finally swung open, you were greeted with the sight of Heeseung, looking as relaxed as ever. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and shorts, the definition of casual, but somehow he still looked like he had stepped straight out of a magazine photoshoot.

You blinked for a second, momentarily stunned. When did you become such a simp?

“Come in, please,” Heeseung’s voice broke through your thoughts. His smile was warm and welcoming, and before you could even process what was happening, he was taking the bouquet from your hands.

“Crap—wait, I mean—this is for you!” you stammered, awkwardly snatching the flowers back only to hand them to him again. The exchange was so clumsy that you both burst into laughter, the tension easing ever so slightly.

"You really didn’t have to," he said softly, holding the flowers as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

“I did have to,” you insisted, your voice sheepish. “It’s my first time here. Showing up empty-handed just felt… wrong.”

Heeseung chuckled at your seriousness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down and pinched your cheeks lightly. “You sound just like you do online,” he teased, flashing that signature smile that made your heart race.

“Hey, quit it,” you protested weakly, swatting his hand away, but the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. You were still getting used to seeing him in person, but that didn’t stop the familiar warmth from spreading through your chest at his touch.

The two of you stood there, just outside his apartment, for what felt like longer than necessary. It wasn’t until Heeseung cleared his throat that you realized you were still blocking the doorway.

“Right, shoes off,” you mumbled to yourself, quickly stepping out of your sneakers as you followed him inside. His apartment was small but cozy, with a lived-in feel that made you instantly relax. You noticed a few potted plants by the window, a couple of books scattered across the coffee table, and a faint scent of something familiar—ramen?—lingering in the air.

You perched yourself on his couch, feeling a little too aware of your movements as you sat down. The cushions were soft, and the space felt intimate. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to focus on anything but your own nerves. From the corner of your eye, you could see Heeseung moving about in the kitchen, preparing something.

After a few minutes, he returned with two steaming bowls of ramen, setting them down on the table in front of you. "Sorry, I didn’t have time to prepare anything fancy,” he apologized, scratching the back of his neck with an awkward smile. “Hope this is okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in your chest unraveling at how normal it all felt. “Are you kidding? This is perfect,” you reassured him, reaching for the chopsticks. “Nothing beats instant ramen, especially when you’re too lazy to cook.”

Heeseung laughed along with you, sitting down next to you on the couch. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, but not so close that it felt overwhelming. It was nice. Comfortable. Almost like the two of you had done this a hundred times before.

He turned on a movie—some romantic comedy you’d both agreed on—and as the opening credits rolled, you found yourself stealing glances at him. The way he absentmindedly blew on his ramen before taking a bite, his brow furrowed in concentration like it was the most important task in the world. He was so focused, so natural, and it made you smile without even realizing it.

But when you dared to look over again, you caught him doing the same—his eyes already on you. The two of you locked eyes for a moment, chopsticks hovering in mid-air, before quickly looking away, your cheeks burning.

You could hear him chuckle softly beside you, and that only made you blush harder. It was awkward, but in the most endearing way. You were both adjusting to this new reality, trying to navigate the uncharted waters of an offline relationship.

The movie played in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. The real entertainment was the silent communication happening between the two of you—the subtle glances, the shy smiles, the way your knees brushed against each other accidentally, and how neither of you moved away afterward.

You took another bite of ramen, trying to focus on the noodles instead of the fluttering in your stomach, but it was impossible to ignore how close Heeseung was. Every time he shifted slightly or laughed at something in the movie, your heart skipped a beat.

Halfway through the movie, you found yourself glancing at him again—only this time, you caught him looking at you too. This time, instead of looking away, you both just… stayed like that. His eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the world outside of this small, cozy apartment disappeared.

It was just you and him, sharing an awkward, silly, but undeniably romantic second date in the simplest way possible. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this content, this happy. And as Heeseung’s lips curled into a small smile, you couldn’t help but think that this—this quiet, unspoken connection—was worth every bit of awkwardness.

Maybe this offline thing wasn’t so bad after all.

But then you were proven wrong yet again as a sharp sting of the hot ramen hitting your skin made you gasp as you shot up from your seat, dropping the cup back onto the table. “Ow…” you winced, instinctively pulling at your shirt where the soup had splashed. The yellow-ish broth stained your top instantly, spreading in a not-so-fashionable blotch across your chest. Your heart sank.

Before you could even process the situation, Heeseung had already grabbed a glass of water from the table and, in a flash, poured it over the stained area, dousing you in the process.

You froze, eyes wide in disbelief as the cold water seeped through your shirt. “What… what are you doing?” you squeaked, half laughing, half mortified.

“I—I thought it would help cool it down!" Heeseung stammered, his eyes wide with genuine panic, clearly unsure if he'd done the right thing. “Are you okay? Did it burn you badly?”

You blinked a few times, the absurdity of the situation finally sinking in. The date had gone from mildly awkward to full-blown disaster in a matter of seconds. "I’m fine... just soaked." You looked down at the mess of ramen and water now pooled on the floor and clinging to your ruined shirt. Embarrassment surged through you like a wave.

"I'm so sorry," you mumbled, your voice small as you glanced up at him, your cheeks burning.

Heeseung, however, didn’t seem fazed at all by the chaos. In fact, a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “No, no, don’t be. It’s not your fault. It happens. We’re good.”

You bit your lip, still feeling like a complete klutz. “But... I ruined the date.”

Heeseung stepped closer, gently placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “Hey, it’s just ramen. I’m not mad. Accidents happen. Besides," he added, his lips curling into a playful smile, "it’s kinda memorable, don’t you think?”

You let out a nervous laugh, but the tight knot of embarrassment in your stomach refused to ease. “Yeah, memorable as in me looking like a complete mess.”

His eyes softened as he squeezed your hand. “You don’t look like a mess. But… you should probably change. It must be super uncomfortable.” He winced, eyeing your soaked shirt.

You glanced down at your shirt, the bright orange stain glaring back at you, and let out a resigned sigh. “Yeah… this isn't exactly ideal.”

“Wait here. I’ll grab you something,” Heeseung said before quickly heading toward his bedroom. He disappeared for a moment, rummaging around, and you stood awkwardly, trying not to feel like a complete fool. The entire scene played in your head on repeat. Could this date have gone any worse? First, the awkwardness of meeting offline, now this?

Heeseung returned, holding out a neatly folded oversized t-shirt. “Here, it might be a little big, but it’ll be more comfortable than a wet, ramen-soaked top.”

You hesitated, looking between him and the shirt. It felt weird to wear his clothes, but then again, what choice did you have? You took it from him with a shy smile. “Thanks…”

“Bathroom’s that way,” he gestured toward the hallway, scratching the back of his neck. “Take your time.”

You nodded and walked toward the bathroom, feeling a bit self-conscious as you clutched the t-shirt to your chest. Once inside, you peeled off your wet shirt, the smell of ramen clinging to the fabric. You sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror for a moment. How had you managed to turn such a simple date into a complete disaster?

Pulling Heeseung’s oversized t-shirt over your head, you were surprised at how soft and comfortable it was. It smelled faintly like him—clean and warm, with a hint of cologne. You couldn’t help but feel a little flutter in your chest at the thought of wearing his clothes. It was oddly intimate.

You took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the living room where Heeseung was waiting. As soon as he saw you, his eyes widened, and a deep blush crept up his neck to his cheeks.

“What? Is it bad?” you asked, feeling your face heat up under his gaze.

Heeseung shook his head quickly, though he seemed a little lost for words. “No, no... you look... you look really cute,” he mumbled, his voice dropping a notch as he rubbed the back of his neck again. The sight of you in his oversized t-shirt had clearly caught him off guard.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words. “Oh…” was all you managed to say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and something else—something warm that spread from your chest to your cheeks.

“Sorry, I mean, I didn’t expect—uh—anyway, you’re good, right?” Heeseung cleared his throat, quickly changing the subject to save both of you from further awkwardness.

You nodded, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt. “Yeah, this is… way better, thank you.” You paused, biting your lip before adding, “Sorry again for ruining the date.”

Heeseung shook his head, stepping closer to you, his expression soft. “Y/N, you didn’t ruin anything. It’s just ramen, seriously. Besides…” He smiled, his voice growing softer, “I kind of like this. It feels real. I mean, we’ve been talking for two years, but this... this is different. It’s nice.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and suddenly, the awkwardness of the situation didn’t feel so bad anymore. You met his eyes, feeling a warmth settle between the two of you. Maybe this date wasn’t perfect, but it was real. It was messy, and awkward, and human.

And somehow, that made it feel right.

“Okay,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.”

Heeseung grinned, his dimple showing as he teased, “Besides, you still owe me another date. One without any ramen casualties.”

You laughed, feeling the tension lift. “Deal. But next time, no ramen.”

“Deal,” he repeated, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at you in his t-shirt. “But you might have to keep that shirt. It looks too good on you.”

Your face flushed again, but this time, the embarrassment was replaced by something softer, something sweeter.

“I should leave,” you muttered, letting out a heavy sigh as the reality of the night settled in.

“Already?” Heeseung asked, a hint of disappointment lacing his voice. The look on his face tugged at your heart, a mix of longing and vulnerability that made it hard to stand your ground.

“It’s getting late,” you said softly, though the truth was that you didn’t want to leave—not yet. The air between you was charged, electric with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering just beneath the surface. You hesitated at the door, your hand resting on the knob, knowing this moment was slipping away.

But just as you were about to step outside, you felt Heeseung’s warm hand gently but firmly grasp your wrist, pulling you back into the cozy space of his apartment. Your back hit the wall softly, and the breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him, surprise etched on your features.

“W-what are you…?” you stammered, your heart racing.

His expression mirrored your own, a blend of nervousness and determination. “Can we—can we kiss before you leave? It’s okay if you refuse, after all, we’ve just…”

His words faded as you nodded, the fluttering of your heart drowning out any hesitation. The tension between you felt palpable, hanging in the air like a fragile bubble ready to burst. He didn’t need another invitation; he was leaning closer, and in an instant, your lips met.

You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his hand finding its way to the back of your head, cradling you as he kissed you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as you leaned into him, surrendering to the moment.

It was everything you had dreamt of—sweet, passionate, and full of an unspoken promise. His lips moved against yours, gentle yet urgent, a blend of longing and affection. The world outside faded away; it was just the two of you, lost in each other.

As he pulled away, a thin line of saliva connected your mouths, a testament to the fervor of your kiss. Your foreheads rested together, both of you gasping for breath, the intensity of the moment still lingering in the air. His arms wrapped securely around you, holding you close as if he were afraid to let go.

“You taste… sweet,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips.

“But we just ate spicy ramen,” you replied, a soft laugh escaping your lips, mingling with the lightness of the moment.

“True,” he conceded, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “But your lips taste sweet.”

“Stop,” you muttered, the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks. You couldn’t help but bury your face in your hands, shyly hiding from his gaze. The reality of what had just happened washed over you, mixing exhilaration with a wave of shyness that made your heart race all over again.

Heeseung chuckled softly, clearly amused by your reaction. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he urged gently, reaching out to pull your hands away from your face. His fingers brushed against your skin, a tender caress that sent shivers down your spine. “You okay?”

You nodded, a shy smile peeking through your hands as you met his eyes, the warmth of his gaze melting away your insecurities. “Yeah, just… that was unexpected.”

“Unexpected, but good, right?” Heeseung said, his voice low and sincere, a small grin lighting up his face. “Because I was definitely expecting it to be the highlight of my night.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sweetness of the moment flooding your senses. “Yeah, definitely a highlight,” you echoed softly, and the sincerity in your voice made him smile even wider.

“Then how about a second round? Before you leave?” Heeseung teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You laughed, playfully rolling your eyes. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Just making sure we make the most of the time we have,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

THE DAY YOU KNEW WAS COMING HAD FINALLY ARRIVED — Heeseung was about to meet your two best friends, Semi and Heesoo. And while Semi had been excited to finally get a face-to-face with your boyfriend, Heesoo had expressed nothing but suspicion. After all, dating online for two years and only seeing each other in person for a few months? It was enough to make her raise an eyebrow—and ask questions. Lots of questions.

You sat in a cozy corner of a bustling café, the soft hum of conversations and clinking cups providing a calming background, though it didn’t do much to ease the nervous flutter in your stomach. You stole a glance at Heeseung, sitting beside you, his posture a little too stiff as he absentmindedly traced the rim of his cup with his finger. He was trying to act cool, but you could tell he was feeling the pressure.

On the other side of the table, Semi and Heesoo sat like the unofficial board of inquiry. Semi was leaning forward with a grin that made her look like she was ready to pounce on Heeseung with curiosity, while Heesoo leaned back, arms crossed, her sharp gaze already sizing him up. It was like a scene from a movie—only this time, it was your boyfriend in the hot seat.

Semi was the first to break the ice, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she propped her chin on her hand. “Soo… Heeseung,” she began, drawing out his name playfully, “we’ve heard a lot about you. But you know how it is—we’ve gotta see for ourselves. So, first things first—what’s your love language? Is it words of affirmation? Acts of service? And—be honest—have you ever written her a love letter?”

Heeseung blinked, clearly taken off guard by the unexpected question, but a smile soon crept onto his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Love language? Uh, I’d say physical touch… and maybe quality time. But, uh, no love letters yet. I’m more of a... text message kind of guy.”

Semi’s grin widened. “Text message? Oh, come on! What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever texted her, then? Like, we’re talking Shakespearean levels of swoon-worthy.”

You stifled a laugh, burying your face in your hands as Heeseung scratched his head, looking almost bashful. “Well, I don’t know about Shakespeare… but I did once write her this really cheesy line about how her smile makes my heart race.”

Semi let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her heart as if she were swooning. “Oh my god, Heeseung! How do you even deal with all that smoothness, huh?” she teased, turning to you with a wink.

You could feel your face heat up, and you nudged her playfully. “Stop, you’re making him blush!”

But Semi wasn’t done yet. “Alright, real talk now—what’s her weirdest habit that you’ve noticed since meeting in person? Spill it, we won’t tell.”

Heeseung chuckled, his body relaxing slightly as the conversation started to take a lighter turn. “Weirdest habit? Hm… she talks in her sleep. Like, full-on conversations. The first time I heard it, I thought she was awake, but nope. Just dreaming.”

You shot Heeseung a mock glare, covering your face in embarrassment. “Heeseung!”

Semi burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “That is so cute! What does she say? Is she giving TED talks in her sleep or something?”

Heeseung laughed along, shaking his head. “I wish. Usually, it’s just random stuff about food or… her phone charger. One time she asked me if I could ‘bring her the moon,’ and I had no idea if I should answer or not.”

You groaned, hiding behind your hands. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Heeseung grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in close to you. “Because it’s adorable, that’s why.”

Before you could protest further, Heesoo, who had been quietly observing, finally cleared her throat, signaling it was her turn. She straightened in her seat, her expression more serious than Semi’s as she locked eyes with Heeseung. “Alright, enough of the cutesy stuff. Let’s get to the real questions.”

Semi rolled her eyes playfully, but Heeseung straightened up, clearly sensing that this was going to be more intense. You bit your lip, dreading whatever Heesoo was about to throw at him.

“So,” Heesoo began, her voice calm but firm, “two years of dating online. That’s a long time. How did you know she wasn’t, you know, catfishing you?”

The question hung in the air, and you shot Heesoo a look that screamed, Really? But Heeseung just laughed, easing the tension.

“Well, I mean, we sent pictures sometimes, so I was pretty sure she was real,” he said with a grin. “But, honestly, even if she was catfishing me, I’d probably still fall for her voice.”

Semi made a fake gagging sound. “Oh my god, this is too much. You guys are like a Hallmark movie come to life.”

Heesoo, however, wasn’t satisfied yet. “Okay, let’s say you two stay together and get serious. Like, really serious. How do you plan to handle long-distance, or are you gonna move closer to each other? What’s your five-year plan here?”

The intensity of the question made your heart race. You hadn’t even fully discussed long-term plans with Heeseung yet—at least not in any serious detail. But Heeseung didn’t miss a beat.

“I think long-distance isn’t something we can avoid entirely, but we’ve made it work for two years already. It’ll be challenging, but I’m willing to put in the effort. And as for moving… well, it’s something we’ll have to talk about, but I’m open to whatever’s best for both of us.”

Heesoo tilted her head, studying his answer. “So you’d move? Leave your life behind for her?”

Heeseung nodded, his gaze unwavering. “If it made sense for us and it was the best decision, yeah. I’d move. I want to make sure she’s happy, no matter where that takes us.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, and Semi sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay, Heeseung, you’re setting the bar way too high for other guys.”

But Heesoo wasn’t done yet. “Alright, one last question.” She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s your biggest flaw? And I mean a real flaw—none of that ‘I’m too caring’ nonsense.”

Heeseung paused, clearly taken aback by the directness of the question, but he didn’t shy away from it. “My biggest flaw? Hm… I’d say I tend to overthink things. Sometimes, I worry too much about doing the right thing, and it makes me second-guess myself.”

Heesoo raised an eyebrow, clearly satisfied with his honesty, and finally leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a small, approving smile. “Alright. You’ve passed—for now.”

You exhaled in relief, finally letting go of the tension in your shoulders as the interrogation seemed to be over. Semi clapped her hands together, grinning. “Well, Heeseung, you survived! Congratulations. We’ll go easy on you next time—maybe.”

Heeseung chuckled, turning to you with a playful smile. “That wasn’t so bad. I think I can handle them.”

You smiled back, feeling your heart swell with affection. “You did great. I was kind of worried they’d scare you off.”

Heeseung leaned in closer, his voice soft and teasing. “It’ll take more than that to scare me away.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you nudged him playfully. “Stop being so smooth.”

Semi, clearly not done with teasing, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “Okay, but seriously, Heeseung. Do you think you could beat her in a game of Mario Kart? That’s the real test.”

Heeseung laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, I’ve already tried. She destroyed me.”

You shrugged with a grin. “What can I say? I’m competitive.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “And that’s why I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you felt your heart skip a beat, your breath catching in your throat. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but in front of your friends, it felt different—more real, more special.

Semi let out a dramatic gasp, fanning herself. “Alright, that’s it. You two are officially too cute for me.”

Heesoo smirked, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, we’re done here. But, Heeseung, remember—if you ever hurt her, we’ll find you.”

Heeseung grinned, nodding. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

THE SOFT GLOW OF STREETLIGHTS REFLECTED OFF THE THIN LAYER OF SNOW THAT HAD BEGUN TO BLANKET THE SIDEWALKS, creating a quiet, almost magical atmosphere. It was one of those evenings where the world seemed to slow down, where time stretched out in front of you, and all that mattered was the warmth of Heeseung’s hand, firmly intertwined with yours, as the two of you walked side by side. You could feel the cold bite of the wind, but it hardly registered, not when you were this close to him, not when his presence radiated warmth.

His binnie was dusted with the tiniest specks of snowflakes, and every now and then, a flurry would land on his dark hair peeking out from underneath, adding to the charm of the moment. You stole a glance at him, your heart swelling at the sight—his cheeks flushed slightly from the cold, his breath coming out in soft puffs of condensation. He was fumbling with his keys, his brows furrowed in concentration, and the sight made you smile.

Heeseung noticed, catching you looking at him, and his lips quirked into a curious, soft grin. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice gentle but carrying a hint of playfulness. He finally managed to unlock the door, but instead of stepping inside, he paused, letting the question hang in the air, waiting for your answer. His eyes were on you now, all of his attention focused, as if he could sense the weight behind your unspoken thoughts.

You hesitated for a moment, biting your lower lip, before speaking softly. “Just that… we probably wouldn't have such a lovely relationship if we didn’t agree to meet offline. I mean, we would have a relationship—but maybe not like this.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, his amusement clearly visible as his breath hitched from the cold, but before you could say anything more, he was pulling you inside, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. The warmth of his apartment enveloped you immediately, but the contrast between the chilly night and the sudden comfort inside felt almost surreal.

He let out a low chuckle, his voice filled with disbelief. “It’s literally freezing outside, and that’s what you’re thinking about?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow as he slipped off your jacket, his fingers brushing lightly against your arms in the process. You could feel the heat from his touch, even through the thick fabric, and it sent a shiver up your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He looked down at you, his lips curving into that teasing smile you’d come to know so well.

Before you could respond, you reached up, your fingers gently brushing the snow off the tip of his nose. “You have snow here,” you muttered, your voice soft, almost breathy, as you leaned in slightly to brush away the last remnants of snow from his cheeks.

Heeseung’s smile widened, his eyes softening as he tilted his head closer, nuzzling your nose with his own in the most affectionate way, as if you were a couple of playful kittens. “This method is better,” he murmured, his breath mingling with yours as he spoke, his lips barely grazing your skin. The closeness was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and airy.

“You’re weird,” you teased, rolling your eyes as you attempted to step back, but Heeseung wasn’t having any of it. Before you could escape, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion.

Your giggles filled the room as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, your heart skipping a beat at the suddenness of it all. Heeseung grinned up at you, his lips brushing against yours as he planted a few light kisses, each one sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.

“You’re so tiny,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a murmur as he carried you toward his bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot, never breaking his gaze from yours, and the sheer confidence in the way he handled you made your pulse quicken.

He gently laid you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours as he climbed up, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of you. You could feel the weight of his presence, the heat radiating off him as he pinned you beneath him.

For a moment, all you could do was stare at each other, the intimacy of the moment stretching out, thick and palpable. His eyes searched yours, and you could see the glint of mischief hiding behind the warmth in his gaze.

“Heesoo and Semi are going to kill you if you do something,” you teased, though the smile on your lips betrayed your words. You ran your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, tracing the smooth skin, feeling the way his body tensed under your touch.

Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he pressed soft, lingering kisses, each one sending shivers down your spine. “Like what?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing, the sound of it sending a wave of warmth flooding through you.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the butterflies that swirled in your stomach. “You know what I mean,” you muttered, pouting slightly, but before you could say more, he captured your lips with his, his kiss silencing your protest. His lips were warm, soft, and insistent, and you found yourself melting into him, completely forgetting what you were even trying to argue about.

Then, in one quick movement, he shifted, flipping the two of you so that you were now on top, straddling him. You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance as you adjusted to the sudden change in position.

“Woah,” you breathed, your eyes wide in surprise as you looked down at him.

Heeseung just grinned up at you, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. “I’ll settle for cuddles,” he said, his voice softening as he leaned up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. His teasing tone had given way to something more tender, more intimate, and the affection in his voice made your heart flutter.

“You’re seriously such an overreactor,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he held you against him, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you.

You couldn’t help but laugh, your cheek pressing against his chest as you relaxed into his embrace, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. The sound was soothing, grounding, and you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace as you lay there, wrapped up in him.

“Am I heavy?” you asked playfully, lifting your head slightly to look down at him, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

Heeseung’s grin widened, his hands tightening around your waist as he pulled you even closer, his breath warm against your skin. “What? No,” he muttered, laughing softly. “If anything, you’re way too light.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, your fingers threading through his hair as you deepened it. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you tighter, as if he never wanted to let you go.

The snow continued to fall outside, but inside, wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, you felt nothing but warmth. And as the two of you lay there, tangled up in each other, you couldn’t help but think that even though the world outside was cold and quiet, in this moment, everything felt perfect.

507 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 2 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐨 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲.

sum. felix can’t help it, and he can’t hold back anymore, because in the end, loving you comes out so effortlessly.

wc. 1.1k

cw. fluff! so many feels, my teeth are rotten after this

req! by my wifey @/stayconnecteed right here. won’t tag you twice cause you’re in the taglist lol. loved your idea! i’m so soft for felix ㅠㅠ<3

[🌼 ☆ 🥞 ☆ 🌼]

When he wakes up, the first thing Felix does is move his body right next to yours.

He basks in your now shared warmth with his eyes closed, and he smiles giddily, knowing that he isn’t hugging you so closely and tangling his legs around yours because of how cold he may or may not be. His hand slithers between your head and your pillow, and he can’t help but letting his heart flutter and creep with cheeky jealousy at the thought of your scent lingering in the bedsheets for days. He hopes his leaves a mark. But if it doesn’t, he’s free to come back whenever —your words, not his— and he sighs happily, still a bit sleepy.

With you now right where he knows you belong, not bothering if his arm will start to feel numb, he traces the outline of your face with his eyes, carving your face deep into his memory. Shyly, when he notices you stir awake, he closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

He can’t know what you’ll do, and the thought has him weirdly on edge. But his heart swoons when the next thing he feels is your arms around his torso. Your nose brushes against his, and the effort he makes to keep pretending to be asleep —merely to see what you’d do, now more out of curosity than anything— and not let his breath hitch or the smile creep up his face is harder than he once would’ve thought.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

It’s a whisper that falls from your lips and strokes his whole body. It’s the first time he wakes up right by your side, and he already feels like he’s conquered the entire world. He’s just woken up, and whatever you two have got going on has been going on for a couple months now.

But today, this morning —your first morning— somehow feels different.

He’s a bit cheeky, and he doesn’t want to yet open his eyes again, loving how unrestrained your hands linger on him. He loves how your hands find home on the small dent of his waist, and almost as cheeky as him, you move his shirt up, just enough to trail shapes on the small parts of now visible creamy skin. He loves how it may seem like the paths your fingers create are mindless, almost an excuse to keep your hands on him, but as he holds back a smile, he can notice that you’re doodling on his back. Little stars that he knows can’t compare to those up in the sky, because those don’t tickle like how yours do, they don’t make you get as close to him like how yours do, they don’t make his heart flutter and swoon and giggle like how you do.

And —what he feels like it’s the most important relasation he’s had in the past ten or so minutes he’s been awake— he doesn’t love them as much as he loves you.

He notices how your fingers turn soft and tender, the pointy sides of a star changing to rounder shapes, and he’s putty in your hands, because those are shy and cute little hearts.

You sigh and move away from him, and before he can even open his eyes to pull you back, his still allegedly asleep figure gets a sheepish kiss from you.

It’s weird, because he’s kissed you so many times before, but this is different. It’s different, he knows, because for more than just the second the peck lasted before he hears the door in the room creak and your steps dim as you head somewhere else in your appartment, the room falls away. There’s nothing else there except the ghost of the touch of your lips against his, and how his heart keeps missing beats and his hands tickle to bring you back and closer to him.

His eyes are open, and his hand moves to his lips, in a daze as Felix feels his cheeks blushing like crazy. His heart is shortcircuiting, screaming at him, and his brain can’t understand it, because it just feels like he isn’t its owner anymore. He wants to move from the bed and run to you, and then you’d hug him too, traicing the same little shapes as before, and while you hug, your hearts as close as they can be, not minding all the flesh and blood and bones in between as yours calms his, and it’s so wild and unrestrained that he feels the need to give it to you.

“Take my heart, take it.” He’d say in a murmur. “I’m afraid of it, of how desperately it wants to consume you and devour you whole. Take it, because it’s yours and it feels like nothing without you, and replace it with something easier to understand.”

The scent of tea and honey wakes him up from his day dreaming, and your silhouette comes back, and you smile when you notice he’s up, his eyes locked on yours.

“Good morning, princess.”

“Isn’t that my line?” Felix giggles, turning back to his side as you leave your hot tea on your bedside table and lay back into bed.

You chuckle too, sighing in deep comfort when his arms surround you again.

“Good sleep?” You ask giggling, your hands stroking his face. Best sleep, he doesn’t say. “You’ve got marks of the pillow all over your face.”

“Well, how do you know you don’t have them too?” He teases menacingly. He knows that you haven’t looked yourself by how your eyes widen softly, and he rapidly cages you against him.

“Lix, let me go check!” You laugh, failing to move away from his embrace.

“Nope. You’re staying with me, wrickles and all.”

It’s a battle of whose’s laugh makes them weaker first, and judging by how you relax and giggle gently, he’s the winner for this one.

His eyes glow as he stares at you, and you can’t stop giggling, seeing the stars you doodled on him before stare back at you, posing as freckles on his face and as shimmers in his eyes. You kissed him before leaving, risking waking him up to release the wave of affection that crashed against you when he was the first thing you saw to start your day. A small liberty that compares in the slightest to how he kisses you now.

And you both keep laughing, laughing as you kiss each other, and none of you can make up something better than the taste of the other’s laugh in you mouths.

Then you sigh, and lean you forehead against his. You’d kiss each and every one of his freckles without him asking, as if every fiber of your being was dying because it makes you feel alive, stronger than you’ve ever felt and it’s home, and it’s then and only then when you feel it with such a raw tinge to it that you can’t hold it back anymore.

And neither can he.

“I love you.” you both blurt out, a first time of many.

You both stay there, waiting for the world to catch up and keep spinning.

“Pancakes?” You mumble on his lips, your smile never faltering.

“God, you’re an angel.” He giggles, so, so, so in love.

[🌼 ☆ 🥞 ☆ 🌼]

kats, who now feels so fucking lonely, need me a Felix ffs.

PERMANENT TAGLIST! @lyramundana @stayconnecteed

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anakinstwinklebunny · 2 months ago

Text

JAMES KELLY HEADCANONS 🧰

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

James Kelly who met you during his work. At first he gave you few glances here and there but as you started to appear more often something started to stir in his heart

James Kelly who, from that time, always offered you his services and tried to bargain his friends so they would give him you as his new customer;

From the very first moment James saw you in his workplace, something shifted deep within him. It was a sensation that swept through his heart and stomach, enveloping his senses in a way he couldn’t ignore. Every time you visited the mechanical engineering shop, his ears would perk up at the sound of your sweet, melodic voice. He found himself irresistibly drawn to you, stealing furtive glances as you nervously tried to explain the issue with your car to his friend and coworker.

As the days passed and your visits became less frequent, a hollow emptiness settled in his heart. The absence of your presence left a noticeable void, making him long for your return. His thoughts were consumed by you, turning over the idea of you being his customer rather than just someone who came in occasionally. So, what's better way to make it happen than to persuade his friends to let him take over your case? “C’mon, please,” he sighed, trailing behind Jackson who headed toward the sink.

“james, I’m working,” Jackson replied, turning on the water to wash his hands, a splash of soapy bubbles momentarily obscuring his skin.

James leaned casually against the sink, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture radiating both confidence and a touch of impatience.

“Come on, man,” he said, his tone a mix of desperation. “Just once. I’ll owe you a favor, I swear.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes pleading in a way that made it clear how important this was to him.

Jackson glanced over at him, a hint of skepticism in his expression. “And what’s in it for me if I agree?”

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of James' lips. He was on the brink of winning this argument and he loved it. “You name the price,” he said, his voice steady and assured.

Every time you stopped by the shop, James felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, as if his entire body were electrified with anticipation. His heart pounded so fiercely against his chest that it seemed to echo in his ears. He didn't understand it. He didn't even know you that much to have some kind of 'crush' on you. But maybe that's the case? Maybe people don't have to know each other so much to be attracted to them. He just wished he'd not mistake himself in thinking about you more as some customer, more as just friend.

Yet it felt like he won a lottery; you were beautiful, seemed so sweet and kind, had a sense of humor.. and the moment you appeared, a wide, genuine smile would spread across his face. He made a concerted effort not to stare too long, but even his best efforts couldn’t entirely tame his wandering gaze.

“Um… hi, is Jackson here?” your sweet voice chimed, cutting through the noise of the shop.

At the sound of your voice, James' heart skipped a beat, just as it did every single time you came around. He looked up from his work, his blue eyes instantly drawn to your figure

“Ah, no, he’s not in today,” he replied, his voice warm and inviting. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh… he was supposed to check my car,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice when you pointed to the black machine behind you

He noticed the subtle disappointment in your voice and gave a small nod, seizing the chance to spend more time with you.

“Well, I’m not doing anything important right now, so I could take a look at it if you don’t mind,” he offered, his tone both casual and eager.

You thought about it for a moment. Jackson's not here, yet he promised to be there, your car in huge need to be checked out, a tall, handsome-looking guy with veiny hands in oil.. “Sure,” you replied, a hint of relief in your voice at his offer. It was important for you. So your car would have a proper care it needs and if someone offers you help and seems genuine about it, why refuse?

He pushed himself up from the hood of the other car he’d been leaning on and looked at you, taking in your slender form once more, your striking (e/c) eyes, and those plump lips that always seemed to captivate him.

“May I get your keys?” he asked, extending his hand in an attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible and forget about the awkward moment

You handed him the keys, and as he took them from your hand, he felt the soft warmth of your skin against his. His gaze followed the gentle graze of your fingers over his palm, which seemed to send a shiver through his body. He swallowed thickly to brush it off. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable and think of him as a perv

“Alright, I’ll take a look at it,” he said, already heading toward your car with a sense of purpose. Over his shoulder, he called out, “And you’re… Y/N, right?” He feigned uncertainty, though he obviously knew your name perfectly well

“Yes, did something happen?” you asked, your curiosity piqued with hint of worry

James inserted the key into the ignition, but he didn’t start the car. Instead, he popped the hood and peered inside at the engine.

“No, no,” he began, his voice thoughtful as he leaned over the opened hood, his tongue briefly touching his lower lip as he considered his words. After a moment, he sighed. “Jackson’s been swamped with clients lately, so he handed off a few to me… and you’re one of them.”

“Oh…” you replied, a bit surprised by the news.

He leaned further into the car, reaching for something under the engine. In this position, he had an unobstructed view of you—one that made his thoughts wander more than he cared to admit. He grasped a specific tool and began working on the engine, trying hard to focus on the task rather than the fact that you were so close.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind that it’s me taking care of you,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood. “I mean, not you personally, but… your car.” his tone slightly nervous. Yet to his surprise, you giggled at his awkwardness, the sound bright and uplifting his slightly crashed mood from moments ago

James Kelly who dyed his hair when he found out you like guys with darker hair at the beginning of your relationship (although you were sad that he did it and felt bad for somehow 'pushing' him to this decision)

James Kelly whose evenings often involve hanging out in his garage. It’s where he’s most at home, and he loves having you there with him. You might sit on a stool, sipping coffee while he works, occasionally handing him tools or just enjoying his company as he explains the nuances of car repair in his unique, enthusiastic way.

James Kelly who has a 'mechanic’s touch'. His hands, skilled and gentle from working with delicate engine parts, translate into tender, careful touches when he’s with you

James Kelly who has a soft spot for personal projects, especially ones that involve old, classic cars. He loves restoring vintage vehicles, and he often involves you in these projects;

James' eyes widened in awe as the old car was wheeled into his workshop. It was a vintage marvel, the kind of machine that whispered tales of a bygone era. The worn, weathered metal seemed to glow under the workshop lights, and his fingers twitched with impatience, itching to trace every curve, every detail of the car that had captured his imagination.

“Hell yeah,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent whisper. A satisfied grin crept across his face as he took in the car's elegant lines and timeless design. “Look how beautiful this baby is.”

You glanced at the car, a little less impressed. “It’s… okay,” you mumbled, your voice lacking the enthusiasm he clearly felt.

His head whipped around to face you, disbelief etched into his features. For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to comprehend how anyone could see this masterpiece as merely okay. Then, with a snort and a roll of his eyes, he let out a soft chuckle.

“Okay?” he echoed, his tone almost incredulous. “This baby is a classic masterpiece. You’re looking at a piece of history, something built with passion and precision. There’s nothing just okay about it.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned back to the car, already envisioning the work he would do. To him, this wasn’t just a car—it was a labor of love, a chance to bring a piece of history back to life.

"Jimmy," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "I’m just not as into cars as you are."

He felt himself soften at your touch, almost melting into your embrace. But before he could fully surrender to the warmth of your hug, he let out another amused snort. With a gentle hand, he lifted your chin, tilting your face up toward him so your eyes met.

"You’re hopeless," he teased, his tone light and playful. He leaned down and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to your forehead, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"At least tell me I’m more beautiful than this car," you quipped, your voice laced with a hint of mock seriousness.

He chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. His eyes, a deep and vibrant blue, gazed into yours with a warmth that melted your insides. They were filled with soft, gentle affection, a look reserved only for you.

"Oh, doll," he murmured, his voice full of sincerity. "You’re way more beautiful than this car. You’re more beautiful than anything in this world."

You smiled when your lips connected in a soft kiss. Every time he was around you, it felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, a rush of excitement that never faded. The sensation of your skin against his, the softness of your form wrapped in his embrace, and the subtle, enchanting scent of your hair—it was all intoxicating. You were his personal addiction, a perfect drug he couldn’t get enough of, and each touch, each kiss only deepening his need for you.

“So…” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, “…what color should we make this car?”

A playful grin spread across your face. “Pink.”

Anakin chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest although something changed in his expression, “Pink? Really? Not red, orange, or yellow, but pink?”

“Why not?” you shot back with a teasing glint in your eyes.

"It's just… wrong on so many levels. Sorry, baby, but this is not a damn Barbie car," he muttered with a shudder, a grimace twisting his features as if the very thought of turning a classic car pink physically pained him.

"But it'd be pretty," you replied with a sweet smile, undeterred.

He stared at you, still processing the idea that you seriously wanted to paint this car pink. His mind struggled to reconcile the vision of a tough, masculine machine with the image of it decked out in pastel colors.

"This car is supposed to be badass," he said, his tone laced with disbelief. "A tough, masculine car. And you just… want to paint it pink?"

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh, and then smiled up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "A cute, baby pink shade… with glitter and jewels."

His soul practically left his body as you listed all the things you wanted to do to the car. He couldn’t believe you wanted to turn a classic, vintage masterpiece into something straight out of a fairytale.

“Are you kidding me? This is a vintage car, baby, and you want to make it sparkle like some kind of princess carriage?” he pleaded, his voice heavy with disbelief. He let out a long, weary sigh, already feeling the inevitable pull of giving in to your whims. Was he really going to agree to this just because he was hopelessly in love with you and couldn’t bear to see you anything but happy?

“Oh, please!” you chimed in, your tone sweet and persuasive.

He looked at you, a pout forming on his lips, his heart caught in the tug-of-war between his love for the car and his love for you. The way you didn’t quite grasp his distress—and the way you so innocently asked for a pink car—left him unable to say "no" outright.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

Your innocent smile only widened, the sparkle in your eyes growing brighter.

He just stood there for a moment, staring at you, trying to find the strength to resist. But finally, he let out a sigh so deep it almost sounded like a defeated groan.

“i am not going to spend hours trying to make this car look decent in freaking pink,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And I swear to god, if you even mention glitter or jewels one more time, I’ll lock you in this workshop and won’t even think about letting you out.”

“Now that’s rude,” you pouted, crossing your arms

James mirrored your stance, crossing his arms over his chest as well, his gaze fixed intently on you. He raised an eyebrow, feigning annoyance, though the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

“Oh, and it’s not rude to demand that I paint this car in the most atrocious color and slap glitter on it?” he shot back, his voice dripping with mock indignation.

“If not this car, then another one? Pretty please?” you countered, your tone softening as you tilted your head and gave him those puppy-dog eyes that always seemed to work like magic.

He let out another sigh, the kind that hinted at resignation, but there was no hiding the fond smile that crept onto his lips. You knew he could never resist when you looked at him like that, with those wide, pleading eyes and that sweet, hopeful tone. It was his kryptonite.

“Which other one then?” he murmured, his voice softening as his resolve melted away completely.

James Kelly who loves to show off his work to you since he feels like you're really proud of him

James Kelly who's your one and only engineering. If anything is broken, you call Anakin. If anything needs repair, you call Anakin. If you have to put new furniture together, you call Anakin

James Kelly whose protective nature extends to ensuring your safety. He would always check your car to make sure it’s in perfect condition;

“jimmy, the last time you checked my car was three days ago. Nothing has happened since that day” you said, watching as he anxiously inspected your car, determined to ensure it was in perfect condition.

He straightened up, his expression serious as he leaned against the car with his arms crossed. His eyes held a flicker of concern, betraying the worry he tried to hide.

“You can never be too sure,” he replied firmly, though it was evident he was slightly exaggerating. He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it as he sighed with frustration.

“I just want you to be safe, you know? Let me take care of the car and make sure nothing happens to you,” he muttered, each word underscoring his deep protectiveness.

“You make me think about riding a bike,” you said, rolling your eyes at his overprotectiveness.

“You’d look hot on a bike,” he responded with a wide smirk, his blue eyes locking onto yours with playful admiration.

“Oh, stop. Just—check the car and let’s go,” you said, trying to cut off the conversation.

“Sure, my lady"

James Kelly ho loved to test his motorcycles he fixed;

James had just finished working on the engine of the motorcycle, his hands smeared with grease and oil stains. He wiped them on a dirty cloth, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. There was something about being surrounded by machines that made him feel like a kid again—pure, unbridled joy bubbling up inside him. His eyes traveled to the shiny, black motorcycle, admiring the way the lights danced across the gleaming metal. His body buzzed with excitement at the thought of taking it for a spin.

“Now, it’s for your safety,” he said firmly, as he carefully placed a helmet on your head. “I’m not risking your health nor your life.”

The very idea of something going wrong on the ride—the possibility of an accident—sent a wave of anxiety crashing through him. His stomach tightened, and his heart clenched with worry. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you, not when you meant everything to him. So, even if you were just sitting behind him, he wanted to make sure you were as safe as possible.

He swung his leg over the seat, straddling the motorcycle with practiced ease, and settled in comfortably. With a quick flick of his wrist, he started the engine, the loud, roaring rumble filling the air and sending a powerful vibration through his entire body. “Hop in, pretty girl,” he called out over the noise.

You climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. The moment he felt your body pressed against his back, and your arms encircling him, a sense of contentment washed over him. The warmth of your breath against the back of his neck sent a shiver down his spine. It was one of the best feelings in the world—having you right there with him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you whenever he wanted.

“now hold on tight, doll,” he shouted over the roar of the engine, his voice laced with excitement, as he revved the motorcycle, ready to take off on the open road.

James Kelly who has little rituals that revolve around his work and you. For example, he would always start his day with a quick text to check in on you, and end it with a call to check if youre alright or just to hear your voice

James Kelly who made matching necklaces for both of you

James Kelly who's a big dog person. He'd very often stop by to stroke local dog (if it doesn't have an owner by itself) or gives food if some are wandering around his workplace

James Kelly who used, to your dissatisfaction, shower gel 3 in 1..and even if you've bought him more suitable and better shampoo, he had never used it due to his opinion that 'his shampoo is better and costs less'

James Kelly who had become completely devoted to you, giving all his attention and heart to you. He would do anything to see a smile on your lips and a sparkle in those beautiful eyes of yours. He'd do anything to make you happy, no matter what's the cost. He'd even go against everything and everyone for you if he'd have to

James Kelly who definitely talks you through it

James Kelly who loves to make love to you (obviously) however he, as much as adores sex in bed, he also likes the thrill of making it in the empty workshop..;

"someone could see us" you - tried to - say between moans, your cheeks flushed pink while you held onto James' arms

As often as he does, James ignores your concern, his eyes locked onto yours as he continues to pound into you with no care in the surroundings. "Shh, just let go, sweetheart. No one's around. We're alone out here". he grabs your hips and starts slamming into you harder, the car hood creaking beneath you.

His breath hitches as he feels your nails digging into his skin, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. He almost takes as his goal to hit this sweet spot of yours like he always does. He leans forward, his forehead pressing against your neck as he speaks in a rough, desperate voice. "Yeah..just like that baby..gonna mark this car with your little pretty body..and--oh god--" he groaned after feeling your walls clench and hug him so deliciously "when we're done..whenever I'll look at this car I'll just see your pretty face, those beautiful legs all spread out and waiting for me--"

James Kelly who has a habit to just have you in his lap, while your naked, and play with your breasts. Enamoured by your deliciously perfect taste, he can't help but trace the puffy skin to delicately spread his saliva all over your nipple before taking it back again for the hundreds of time to his mouth, as if almost worshipping your flavour

James Kelly who would definitely finger you while watching TV;

"So wet for me, baby" his fingers glide over your folds, spreading your slickness around in slow, teasing strokes. "Do you want me to touch you here?" his voice rumbled against your ear

"mhm--"

His grin widens, and he slowly slides one finger inside you, his touch gentle yet firm. "Just one to start, alright baby?" He begins to slowly move his finger in and out, his thumb circling your nub. "You're so tight...you like that? Just one finger?"

He tuts disapprovingly to your nod, slowing down his touch although his tone turns into chiming-mocking. "Eyes on the screen, love". He punctuates his words with a slow thrust of his finger "Good girl.." he praised after seeing you submit to him and to give you a prize, he sped up his touch once more, adding another finger and curving them inward to hit that spot. His actions elicited more gasps and moans from your mouth

"Shh, baby...quiet now". He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside you as he rubs your clit with his thumb. "Gotta hear the dialogue..." He whispered directly to your ear

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

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