#that was the only movie i saw with him in it and i thought he was gay af in it lol

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 33. the premiere

word count: 15k words (sorryyyy….againnnn) warnings: MDNI!!!!!! explicit sexual content. petnames, spanking, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!), softdom! sunghoon, softdom!jake, all the fucking lot. spoiler alert im so sorry…… thank you…… prev | masterlist | next

You’re still adjusting your dress in the mirror when there’s a knock at your door. Three short taps, casual but expectant. You already know who it is. You smooth your hands down the fabric one last time, inhaling deeply before opening the door.

Jake stands there, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, dressed in an all-black suit that fits him almost unfairly well. His hair is styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he’s looking at you, all wide eyes and slow grin, makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck. Wow.” His voice is almost reverent, his gaze dragging over you from head to toe. “You look insane. Like, actually. This should be illegal.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe just to make things difficult for him. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Jake’s grin sharpens, his dimples showing as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “I can think of a few things.”

Your heart stutters for a second, but you keep your expression unimpressed. “Yeah? Too bad we have somewhere to be.”

“Five minutes won’t kill anyone,” he argues, slipping past you with ease, closing the door behind him. He barely gives you time to react before his hands find your waist, pulling you in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His cologne is distracting, all warmth and spice, and his lips are just close enough to be dangerous.

“You’re trouble,” you murmur, your hands finding his shoulders.

“I could say the same about you.”

And then he kisses you, slow and teasing at first, before he deepens it, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you. He tastes like mint and something sweeter, something distinctly Jake, and it’s so easy—too easy—to melt into him.

But you don’t, not fully. You pull back, breathless, pressing a finger to his chest. “Jake.”

“Mm?” His lips chase yours like he’s not done yet.

“We have to go.”

He exhales dramatically, resting his forehead against yours for a second before finally pulling away. “Fine. But only because I don’t want Niki to yell at me for being late.”

The hotel ballroom where the premiere is being held is overwhelming the second you step inside. Warm lighting, sleek decor, champagne flutes in every direction. The kind of event where everyone is too cool to be fazed by the sheer number of celebrities in one place.

Jake keeps a hand on the small of your back as you walk in, like he’s worried you might disappear in the crowd. He greets a few people, nods at some others, but the second he spots Niki, his entire demeanor shifts.

Niki is standing near the center of the room, flanked by Yeonjun and a handful of other people you don’t immediately recognize. He’s holding a drink and talking animatedly, gesturing wildly like he’s in the middle of the most important story of his life. The second he sees you and Jake, his face lights up.

“There you are!” He waves you over, practically bouncing on his heels. “Finally. Thought you guys were gonna ditch me.”

“You think I’d miss this?” Jake grins, clapping a hand on Niki’s shoulder. “Big night, man.”

Niki gestures to the chaos around him. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking insane. I saw Taylor Swift like ten minutes ago and almost passed out.”

You blink. “Wait, she’s actually here?”

“Of course she is, dude. It's her movie.” Niki shrugs. “She's probably somewhere being cooler than all of us combined.”

Jake stands beside you, his hand resting lightly on your back as the party swirls around you. The room is a blur of sequins, designer suits, and industry elites, but his attention is locked on you.

Sunoo arrives first, all bright energy and perfectly styled hair, Gigi right beside him in a dress that probably costs more than your rent. Woonhak follows, looking vaguely overwhelmed but excited. “Oh my God, there he is,” Sunoo gasps dramatically. “The man of the hour.”

Jake laughs. “You mean Niki? Pretty sure he’s the man of the hour.”

“No,” Gigi corrects. “He means you.”

“Yeah,” Sunoo adds, pointing between you and Jake. “We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

Jake gives you a playful glance. “All good things, I hope?”

Jake, ever the charmer, is unfazed. He chats with them easily, slipping into the conversation like he’s always been part of your world. You watch as he makes them laugh, throwing in casual compliments and effortlessly winning them over.

After a few minutes, you catch sight of Jungwon and Jay arriving. “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” you tell Jake, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods, squeezing your fingers briefly. “Don’t take too long.”

You weave through the crowd toward Jungwon and Jay, both looking effortlessly put together. Jungwon spots you first, his face lighting up. When you reach them, your brother pulls you into a quick hug. “We had a tie problem.” His gaze turns to Jay, who is silently laughing.

You glance toward the bar. “I was actually about to grab a drink. You guys want anything?”

Jay shakes his head. “Sunghoon already went to get ours.”

Of course he did.

You nod, excusing yourself before heading toward the bar. As you approach, you spot Sunghoon leaning against the counter, one hand resting casually on the surface while the other holds a drink. His suit fits perfectly, sharp lines and effortless confidence, the deep navy fabric complementing his complexion in a way that makes your thoughts stray into dangerous territory. The open collar of his dress shirt reveals just enough skin to make you swallow harder than you’d like, and the sleek styling of his hair only sharpens the cocky smirk he wears when he notices you approaching.

“What a coincidence,” he muses, tilting his glass slightly in your direction. “You following me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, masking the way your pulse quickens. “You wish.”

He tilts his head, letting his gaze drag over you in that slow, deliberate way that makes your skin heat. “Maybe I do.”

Your throat goes dry, but you refuse to let it show. “Shouldn’t you be taking those drinks back to your friends?”

He smirks, swirling the liquid in his glass lazily. “They can wait. Besides, looks like you could use a distraction.”

You scoff, leaning against the bar beside him, trying not to focus on how close he is. “You think you’re that distracting?”

Sunghoon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly smooth register that always makes the air between you shift. “I know I am.”

You hate that he’s right. But you hate even more how much you don’t want to walk away.

He studies you for a moment before raising a brow. “So, how’s Jake?”

The question catches you off guard, but you recover quickly. “He’s talking to Sunoo, Giselle, and Woonhak.” You pause, then glance at him knowingly. “You know, since he invited you here and all.”

His smirk deepens, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Yeah. Generous of him, don’t you think?”

You nod, watching him carefully. “I like that you two are getting close again.”

Sunghoon hums, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down. Then, he looks at you with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course you like it. You’re the reason for it.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly. “Or did you already forget what happened on Super Bowl night?”

Your breath catches for half a second, but you school your expression, refusing to give him the reaction he wants. Instead, you shift your gaze across the room, scanning the crowd—and that’s when you see Jake.

He’s leaning against a tall table, still engaged in conversation, but his eyes are locked onto you and Sunghoon. There’s something in the way he’s watching, the curve of his lips somewhere between amused and possessive. It sends a shiver down your spine—not quite jealousy, but not entirely something else, either.

The bartender slides your drink in front of you, breaking the tension. You take the glass, turning back to Sunghoon with a tight-lipped smile. “I should get back.”

His smirk lingers, as if he knows exactly why you’re leaving so quickly. “Sure. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” You ignore the way your stomach tightens at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before you do something reckless.

You return to Jake, finding him standing with Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Soobin near the edge of the party. The three of them are deep in an animated discussion, and you barely get a word in before Beomgyu clutches Soobin’s shoulder like he’s delivering the most important information of the night.

“Dude, I swear to God, we just went to the bathroom and Tom Holland was in there,” Beomgyu says, eyes wide.

Soobin nods in solemn agreement. “He was washing his hands like a normal person. It was surreal.”

“Was he British?” Heeseung asks, raising an eyebrow.

Beomgyu stares at him. “Bro, of course he was British, what kind of question—”

“I mean, did he sound British in real life?” Heeseung clarifies, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t hear him talk. But he had the British stance,” Soobin supplies, as if that explains everything.

“What the hell is a British stance?” Jake finally asks, chuckling.

Beomgyu waves his hand dismissively. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At this point, the conversation takes a sharp turn as Heeseung squints at Soobin. “Okay, but real question—who’s the best Spider-Man? Because I already know your dumbass answer.”

Soobin gasps. “Tobey Maguire is objectively the best—”

“Oh my God, here we go,” Beomgyu groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re actually delusional if you think Andrew Garfield wasn’t the best,” Heeseung counters.

Jake laughs, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closer as they keep arguing. He leans in, his voice a warm murmur in your ear, “You wanna get out of here?”

Your breath hitches for half a second, but you play it cool, tilting your head slightly. “You’re feeling bold tonight.”

He smirks. “You have that effect on me.”

Before you can respond, Beomgyu suddenly turns back to you both, looking horrified. “Wait—Jake, don’t tell me you think Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man.”

Jake doesn’t even glance at him. “I think Y/N and I are leaving.”

Soobin gasps. “COWARD.”

You laugh, letting Jake steer you toward the exit, ignoring the continued chaos behind you. His hand is firm on your lower back, fingers pressing lightly as he guides you through the crowd, a silent reminder of his presence. The party hums around you—music pulsing, glasses clinking, voices overlapping in an endless sea of conversation—but it all fades into the background as you step into the crisp night air. The smoking area is nearly empty, just a few scattered guests lingering near the edge, their quiet conversations drowned out by the distant bass from inside. The air is laced with the faint scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne, but all you can focus on is Jake, who wastes no time in pulling you closer by the waist.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and low against your ear. His lips graze the sharp line of your jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though your breath hitches slightly when he finally presses a kiss there, just below your ear.

“Yeah?” He pulls back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You don’t seem fine.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted. “You just like messing with me.”

“Maybe.” His hands tighten around your waist, his thumbs pressing into your sides. “Or maybe I just like you.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Oh yeah? How much?”

Jake tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mm, a lot.” His lips find your jawline again, kissing along it slowly, savoring every inch. “Like, wanna-be-around-you-all-the-time a lot. Like, think-you’re-the-coolest-person-here a lot.”

You hum softly, enjoying the warmth of Jake’s touch, the way his fingers trace absentminded circles against your waist. But there’s something deeper lingering between you, something you can’t ignore.

“Jake,” you say quietly, tilting your head up to look at him properly. “Can I ask you something? Like, for real?”

He pulls back slightly, his gaze warm and steady. “Of course.”

You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before finally speaking. “What… what exactly is this? You and me.”

Jake blinks, as if the question catches him off guard, but then a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know if I have the perfect answer for that,” he admits. “But I know that I really like getting to know you. I like how things feel when I’m with you. And I don’t wanna push you into anything—you’ve got a lot going on, I get that. But I like where we are right now.” His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, grounding, reassuring. “I like this... whatever this is.”

Your heart stumbles slightly at his words, the sincerity behind them. You nod, letting the moment settle, before shifting slightly. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jake grins. “Damn, two in a row? Should I be nervous?”

You roll your eyes but don’t take the bait. Instead, you inhale deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you get mad about Sunghoon? About him being around?”

Jake exhales a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna know the truth?”

“That’d be nice.”

He leans against the railing, still holding onto you like he’s unwilling to let you go. “It’s not the first time this has happened with me and Sunghoon.”

Your brows lift. “Seriously?”

Jake nods. “Yeah. We’ve had this… I don’t know what to call it. This rivalry? Competition? Whatever it is, it’s not new. But it’s never been like this before.”

“Like this how?”

His thumb brushes against your hip, gentle, thoughtful. “It’s never been with someone like you.”

Your breath catches slightly. “What does that mean?”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “It means you make it different. You make it feel less like a fight and more like— I don’t know. Like a game we don’t mind playing.” He pauses, tilting his head. “And I think it’s because I respect you. I know you’re gonna do whatever you want in the end, and I trust that. And…” He grins, eyes glinting with something playful. “I like it. I like the chase. I like having to work for you.”

Your heart squeezes at his words, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re really not jealous?”

“Oh, I’m jealous,” he admits, laughing. “But I’m not bitter. Not when it’s you.”

For a second, you can’t think of anything to say. So you don’t. Instead, you reach up, tangling your fingers in the fabric of his jacket and pulling him down into a kiss. Jake reacts instantly, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there’s barely any space left between you. His lips move against yours with an easy certainty, like he’s trying to tell you everything he just said all over again—without words, just the heat of his touch, the press of his body against yours. You feel the way he deepens the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly at your waist, like he wants to make sure you don’t slip away. And you don’t want to.

You let yourself sink into him, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, holding him there like he’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment. The world outside the two of you feels distant, a blur of cigarette smoke and the muffled voices. It’s just Jake, his lips warm and insistent against yours, his breath fanning across your cheek as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, as if he wants to taste every inch of you.

Then reality nudges at the back of your mind, and you remember where you are.

You break the kiss, just barely, your breath mingling with his. “Jake,” you murmur, voice slightly unsteady. “We’re still in public.”

His lips barely leave your skin as he hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “So?”

You huff a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow. “So, people are watching.”

Jake exhales a soft chuckle, completely unfazed. “Good,” he murmurs, dipping his head lower, his lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, trailing down the column of your neck. His voice is a low, amused whisper against your skin. “I like when people watch.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his jacket. There’s something reckless about the way he says it, something bold, unbothered—like he’s perfectly happy letting the whole world see that you’re his.

You’re about to retort, maybe call him insane, maybe tell him to shut up and keep kissing you, but then—your gaze drifts past his shoulder.

And your stomach twists.

Across the smoking area, near the edge where the neon glow fades into shadows, Sunghoon is standing with some girl. He’s not kissing her, but he’s leaning in way too close, his posture relaxed, effortless—like this isn’t even something he has to think about. Like it’s second nature to him.

She’s smiling, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she looks up at him, hanging onto whatever he’s saying. And he’s looking at her the way he looks at anyone he’s about to pull into his orbit—sharp, teasing, eyes glinting with something just shy of a smirk. He’s angled slightly toward her, their bodies just close enough that if she took half a step forward, they’d be chest-to-chest. It’s casual, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his body language shifts when he’s interested in someone.

And then he looks up.

His eyes meet yours, and in an instant, everything sharpens. The noise around you fades, the air between you crackling with something unspoken, something tense. His expression doesn’t change—he doesn’t pull away from the girl, doesn’t step back. He just holds your gaze, steady and unreadable, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Like he’s daring you to react.

Your pulse kicks up, an unfamiliar mix of emotions rising in your chest—something heated, something possessive, something almost irrational. You don’t know if it’s anger, annoyance, or something else entirely, but you feel it curling tight in your stomach.

Jake, still oblivious, is kissing along your neck, lips pressing slow, lingering against your skin. His grip on your waist tightens, his voice low. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, trailing another kiss just below your jaw.

But you barely register his words, barely feel the way he’s touching you. Because your attention is locked on Sunghoon, on the way he’s still looking at you, as if waiting to see what you’ll do.

And it makes your blood boil.

The spark of defiance ignites in your chest before the thought even fully forms. You don’t hesitate. If Sunghoon wants to play, you can play too.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you tighten your grip on Jake’s collar and pull him back into a kiss—this time, not soft or teasing, but intense, deliberate. Jake barely has a second to react before he’s melting into you, his hands sliding down your waist, fingers gripping your hips as he presses closer. He exhales a quiet groan against your lips, caught off guard but more than willing to follow your lead.

You tilt your head, deepening it, letting your nails drag lightly against the nape of his neck. The heat between you simmers into something heavier, something heady, and when Jake's fingers dig into your sides in response, you know he's completely lost in it. Good. That’s exactly what you need.

Still, even as you lose yourself in the kiss, you keep your awareness sharp, your senses wired. You know Sunghoon is still watching. And when you finally break the kiss, breathless, you make a point of glancing back toward him.

Your stomach twists the moment you do.

The girl beside him is even closer now, pressing into his side, lips trailing along his jawline like she’s mapping it out with precision. Sunghoon, on the other hand, looks completely unaffected. His expression is unreadable—bored, maybe. Or amused. His arm is lazily slung over the balcony railing, one hand wrapped around his drink, posture relaxed, unbothered. But his eyes?

His eyes are locked onto you.

There’s something deliberate in the way he holds your gaze, something slow and heavy, like he knows exactly what you’re trying to do—and he’s daring you to try harder. It makes your pulse spike, anger bubbling beneath your skin, because he’s playing right back, and worse—he’s good at it.

You refuse to let him win.

Turning back to Jake, you grab his wrist and pull him with you, leading him toward a more secluded corner of the smoking area, tucked behind a concrete wall where the lights don’t quite reach. Jake follows without question, his grip tightening around your hand, his breath uneven from the kiss.

“Where are we going?” he murmurs, voice low, eager.

You don’t answer. Not yet. Not until you steal one last glance over your shoulder, making sure Sunghoon sees exactly what you’re doing.

You don’t wait to see his full reaction, but you catch it anyway—the smirk pulling at Sunghoon’s lips, lazy and knowing, like he’s completely unfazed by your little game. Like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. It makes your jaw clench.

But you don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. You disappear behind the wall with Jake, letting the dim lighting and the thrum of the distant bass swallow you whole.

The second you’re out of sight, Jake tugs you back against him, hands firm on your waist. He’s still catching his breath, his eyes dark with something unreadable—half amusement, half hunger. But there’s something else there too, something smug, something playful.

“You know he’s an asshole, right?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers dipping just beneath the hem of your dress. “And you know I’m so much better than him.” You open your mouth, but before you can say anything, he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Your stomach flips at the way he says it—not accusing, not jealous, just… taunting. Testing you. And you hate how much you like it.

Your lips curl, fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Maybe I just like watching you get all competitive,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly, letting your lips ghost over his jaw. “Maybe I like making you work for it.”

Jake exhales sharply, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah?” His voice drops even lower, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours again, harder this time.

The kiss is intense, charged—his hands tugging you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as he backs you against the cool concrete wall. His lips part against yours, and you let him in, let him deepen it, let him take.

His mouth leaves yours only to trail lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path along your jaw, down to your neck. He finds that spot just beneath your ear and lingers there, lips pressing, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make you inhale sharply.

“Still thinking about him?” he murmurs against your skin.

You exhale something between a laugh and a breathy sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Not even a little.”

Jake chuckles, satisfied, before dipping lower. His lips trace down your collarbone, hot and open-mouthed, like he wants to leave something behind—some kind of mark, something to remind you who had you here first. His hands explore, one gripping your waist, the other slipping up your back, pressing you flush against him.

Jake’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist as he presses you further against the cold wall. His kisses turn rougher, more demanding—teeth grazing your lower lip before he tugs at it, swallowing the quiet gasp that escapes you.

"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dark, something teasing. His hand slides up your side, fingers curling around your ribs as his lips travel back to your neck, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Letting me push you around a little?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown, you know you’ve both lost track of who’s playing who. You don’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, you tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers tightening in his hair as he licks over the spot he just bit. He chuckles against your skin, satisfied, before sucking a bruise into your collarbone.

A soft moan escapes your lips, barely audible, but Jake catches it. His breath stutters for a split second before he exhales sharply, pressing his hips against yours in response. "Shit," he mutters, dragging his teeth over your pulse. "You can’t be doing that in my ear, princess. That’s not fair."

Before he can say anything else, the buzz of his phone vibrating in his pocket interrupts the moment. He ignores it. You feel it again. A steady vibration, insistent. Jake just groans, mouth still on your skin.

"Jake," you whisper, a little breathless. "It’s your phone."

"Don’t care," he mutters, kissing you again.

You laugh softly, pushing at his chest. "It could be important."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, jaw clenched, clearly annoyed. With a heavy sigh, he digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone. When he sees the caller ID, he groans even louder.

"For fuck’s sake," he mutters before answering. "What?"

You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but Jake rolls his eyes. "Bro, are you serious right now? I'm—" He pauses, glancing at you, then sighs again. "Fine. I’ll be there in a sec."

He hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket, looking at you with the most put-out expression. "It’s Niki. He’s making a toast or whatever and wants all the guys there."

You snort. "You should go…"

"Yeah." Jake sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at you again. His eyes roam over your slightly disheveled appearance, the faint marks blooming on your collarbone. A smirk tugs at his lips.

You roll your eyes. "I was literally about to fix myself up."

His smirk widens. "Yeah, you better."

You smack his arm, making him laugh. "Shut up," you mutter, turning toward the restroom. "I’ll meet you there."

Jake steps away first, sighing dramatically as he runs a hand through his hair. “Better hurry up, angel,” he teases over his shoulder. “Don’t wanna keep me waiting too long.”

You roll your eyes, watching as he disappears into the crowd before exhaling and smoothing down your outfit. Your body still feels warm, buzzing from everything that just happened, but you shake it off, heading toward a bathroom nearby.

The hallway is quieter here, dimly lit, the noise of the party muffled behind thick walls. You push open the door and step inside, immediately making a beeline for the mirror.

The second you see yourself, you groan, leaning against the counter with both hands. Your lips are swollen, your hair is slightly tousled, and there’s the faintest hint of red blooming on your collarbone where Jake had been particularly eager.

“My god,” you mutter, tilting your head to inspect the damage. You press your fingers over the spot, sighing. “Girl, what the fuck are you doing?”

You shake your head, standing up straighter as you start fixing yourself. Running your fingers through your hair, smoothing out your clothes, fixing your lipstick in an attempt to erase the evidence.

Alright. You’re fine. You take one last breath, steadying yourself.

Then, pushing open the stall door, you step out—

Sunghoon is leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom, arms crossed, waiting.

His eyes meet yours immediately—dark, unreadable. There’s a flicker of something behind them, something almost amused, and then his lips quirk up at the corner.

“Took you long enough,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches for a second, your heart still settling from the mess Jake left you in, but you mask it quickly. “Were you waiting for me?” you ask, tilting your head, trying to sound unimpressed.

Sunghoon just shrugs. “Maybe.” You roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you—so casual, so at ease, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Having fun tonight?” he asks, voice smooth as ever.

You lift an eyebrow. “You tell me,” you counter. “Looked like you were having a great time with that girl.”

His smirk deepens, just a fraction. “You were watching?”

You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. “You were standing right there. Kinda hard to miss.”

He hums, tilting his head. “So, what? You jealous?”

The accusation makes your stomach twist, but you don’t let it show. You just let out a short, humorless laugh. “Not even a little.”

Sunghoon chuckles, low and deep. “Right,” he drawls.

You hate the way he says it—like he doesn’t believe you, like he knows better. And maybe he does. Maybe he caught the way your gaze lingered too long, how you clenched your jaw when you saw his arm resting lazily on the balcony railing, completely unfazed by your attempts to get a rise out of him.

You straighten your spine. “You must be enjoying yourself, though,” you say, voice laced with something just shy of sarcasm. “Didn’t look like you were complaining when she was all over you.”

Sunghoon just hums again, taking a slow step toward you. “Wouldn’t say that,” he muses.

Another step.

Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’re moving, and Sunghoon is right there, hovering just close enough to make your pulse stutter. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t do anything more than lean in, but it’s enough. Enough to make the space feel smaller, the air heavier.

“She was cute,” he admits, voice dropping slightly. “But I don’t even remember her name.” You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to react. He watches you for a second longer, studying, waiting, and then his lips curve again. “What?” he murmurs. “Disappointed?”

Your eyes narrow. “I should’ve listened when people told me you were trouble.”

Sunghoon tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? And who told you that?”

You shrug, looking away. “People.”

He hums, like he’s considering it, then dips his head a little lower, just enough to make you look at him again. “Well,” he says, “they’re not wrong.” The words shouldn’t make your stomach flip. But they do. “And you know that,” he continues, voice quieter now. “You’ve always known that.”

You swallow, lips pressing together. Sunghoon’s smirk grows. “And you like it,” he says simply.

Something about the certainty in his voice makes your breath hitch. Like it’s not a question, not even up for debate. Like he knows you too well, has seen the way you react when he talks to you like this, corners you like this. You open your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to deflect, but he beats you to it.

“You don’t play fair, either,” he murmurs. “That’s why you pulled Jake like that.”

Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, you do.” The worst part is that he’s right. And he knows it. The tension stretches between you, thick and charged, but before you can get lost in it completely, something clicks in the back of your mind—Jake.

You blink, straightening slightly. “I have to go.”

Sunghoon doesn’t move, still caging you in. “Back to him?” You nod. He exhales sharply through his nose, a smirk still lingering on his lips. “Of course you do.”

You lift your chin. “Don’t start.”

Sunghoon just lets out a quiet chuckle, finally stepping back, giving you space. “Go ahead,” he says, waving a hand. You roll your eyes, stepping past him, ignoring the way your skin still feels too hot. And as you walk away, you swear you can still hear him laughing.

You make your way back to the party, heart still racing from your conversation with Sunghoon. The music pulses through the air, a mix of laughter and chatter filling the space as you navigate through the crowd.

You spot Jake and Niki at a table surrounded by a group of familiar faces—Heeseung, Beomgyu, Soobin, Woonhak, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, Giselle, and Yeonjun. Niki stands up, animatedly gesturing with a drink in hand, clearly in the middle of one of his infamous speeches.

“And let me tell you, folks,” Niki booms, “life is like a pizza! You can have all the toppings in the world, but if the base is soggy, it’s just not gonna work!” The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but smile. Niki’s ridiculousness is contagious.

As you reach the table, you lean against it, slipping in beside Jungwon. You rest your head on his shoulder, the comfort of his presence settling your racing thoughts. He glances down at you, an amused glint in his eyes.

Jungwon glances down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Y/N?” he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You blink up at him, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs, nudging you playfully. “You just stroll in here, all casual, after… whatever that was, and expect me to believe you’re only here for the pizza?”

You roll your eyes, the warmth of your earlier encounter with Sunghoon fading slightly in the comfort of your twin’s teasing. “I came for the pizza and Niki’s wisdom, obviously,” you reply, trying to sound serious.

Your brother chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. You lean into him, the familiar warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and grounded.

But then your gaze drifts away from your brother and settles on Jake, who is seated next to Heeseung, laughter bubbling up between them. He’s animated, his eyes sparkling with joy as he jokes around, completely lost in the moment with his friends. Watching him, a wave of warmth washes over you, spreading from your chest to your fingertips.

In that moment, you can’t help but think how much you genuinely like him. The realization hits you with a gentle tug at your heart. If only you’d met under different circumstances, perhaps things would have been easier. Maybe you could have shared more moments like this, more laughter, and less confusion. The thought lingers in your mind, and you find yourself smiling softly as you wonder what the future might hold. Who knows? Maybe there’s a chance for something more between you two.

As if sensing your gaze, Jake looks over at you, a small smile spreading across his face. It’s the kind of smile that lights up his eyes, a mix of mischief and warmth, as if he knows he wants to be close to you but doesn't want to disrupt the fun he's having with his friends. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

The energy in the room was electric, bodies swaying to the beat, laughter mixing with the music, until Niki broke through the crowd, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung! Jake!” he called out, his excitement palpable. “You’ve got to see this! Whoopi Goldberg is on the dance floor right now!”

The mention of Whoopi had Beomgyu and Soobin leaning in, intrigued. “No way, are you serious?” Beomgyu asked, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “We have to go check that out.” Soobin nodded vigorously, already stepping forward.

Woonhak leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “I actually talked to her earlier. She called me ‘Mr. Kim.’” He delivered the line nonchalantly, but the playful smirk on his face suggested he loved the attention.

Laughter erupted around the group, Jungwon and Jay nearly collapsing with mirth. Even Jake, who typically maintained a cool demeanor, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Niki seized his arm, pulling him toward the dance floor. “Let’s go, Jake!”

Watching them go, you felt a warmth spread through you. Jake looked so relaxed, so alive, his laughter ringing out amidst the chaos. It was a joy to see him enjoying himself without a care in the world.

“Hey,” Jungwon called, breaking you from your thoughts. “You wanna dance?”

With that, you followed Jungwon onto the dance floor, Jay, Sunoo, and Giselle close behind. The music pulsed around you, each beat vibrating through your chest. You lost yourself in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, letting the music take over.

Then you felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, something unsettling. You turned slightly, and there he was: Sunghoon, sauntering by with another girl, laughter escaping his lips like it was the soundtrack to your annoyance. The sight hit you hard, a surge of frustration bubbling up as you contemplated “accidentally” tripping him.

But no. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night. Not with your friends around, not with the music pumping, and definitely not when Whoopi Goldberg was potentially doing the cha-cha-slide somewhere in this building. You forced a smile, turned back to your friends, and kept dancing, determined to shake off the irritation.

Then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Sunghoon’s eyes locked onto yours. For a fleeting moment, everything around you fell silent, the air thick with tension. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but before he could, the girl beside him pulled him back into their conversation.

You turned away, your jaw clenching. The music and laughter felt distant now, as if you were watching the party unfold through a haze. Jungwon noticed the shift in your mood and leaned closer, concern etching his features. “You good?”

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But as you moved to the beat, your gaze kept drifting back to Sunghoon, the weight of his presence hanging in the air like a cloud. The night was still young, yet suddenly, it felt a lot heavier.

After dancing for what felt like forever, the weight of your heels became unbearable. You decided it was time for a break. Spotting Sunoo chatting with Giselle, you made your way over. “Hey, I’m going to grab some slippers from my room,” you announced, already starting to walk away.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. He gave you a knowing look. “Just be careful, because there’s someone watching you all the time.” His tone was teasing, but you knew exactly who he meant—Sunghoon. The unspoken tension between the two of you was palpable, and Sunoo was well aware of it.

“Yeah, well, I’m going to my room anyway,” you replied, already moving away, not bothering to hide your smile.

As you strolled down the dimly lit hallway, the party music faded into a distant buzz, leaving just the thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze boring into your back, a familiar presence that sent little shivers down your spine. You could practically picture him brushing off that girl who had been flirting with him just moments before, his signature smirk dismissing her advances like a pro. He had this crazy way of commanding attention, and somehow, you were caught right in the middle of it.

Stopping in front of your door, the cool metal handle felt like a nice break from the heat radiating off your skin. Just as you turned, Sunghoon rounded the corner, the flickering light catching his jawline, making him look almost otherworldly in the shadows. “You know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, a playful smirk on your lips, “I totally knew you’d pull this. You’re pretty obvious.”

His lips curled into that signature smirk that always sent a jolt through you. He stepped closer, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “And you can’t seem to stay away, can you? It’s like you’re into this little game we’ve got,” he shot back, his tone playful but with a hint of something deeper.

“Oh, is that what this is? A game?” You crossed your arms, trying to hide how giddy you felt inside. The banter flowed easily, but you both knew there was a lot more going on under the surface.

“Definitely,” he leaned in a bit, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of mischief and challenge. “But don’t worry; I’m always down for a challenge. Especially with someone like you.”

Your heart raced at his proximity, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins. You could feel your cheeks heating up, giving away the cool facade you were trying to maintain. “Well, you better keep up then,” you shot back, the words tumbling out with a surprising boldness.

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his amusement clear, but then his expression turned serious for a moment. “Oh, really? Should I?” His voice dropped low, each word hanging in the air, creating a charged intimacy that felt almost electric.

In that instant, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. The weight of unspoken words hovered between you, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the night was poised on the brink of something monumental. You could see the flicker of emotions dancing in his eyes, a mixture of challenge and desire, and it made your heart skip a beat.

“You know, I’m kinda tired of this back-and-forth game we’ve been playing,” he said, stepping even closer, a serious look crossing his face.

“Oh really? And what do you want, then?” You challenged, the playful banter tinged with curiosity.

“I want you, Y/N,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. “Not just this teasing dance.”

The seriousness in his tone made your breath hitch. It felt like a confession, raw and honest, cutting through the playful tension that had defined your interactions until now. You were caught off guard, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You met his gaze, a mix of surprise and something that felt like hope swirling in your chest.

He moved even closer, hovering just inches from you, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed against your skin as he leaned in, almost whispering. “You talk about me being trouble, but let’s be honest—you’re worse than I am.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of thrill and frustration bubbling inside you. “What are you even talking about?” You looked up at him, and the playful glint in his eyes made your heart race.

“Come on,” he teased, tilting his head slightly. He leaned in, brushing his lips just beside your ear, making your breath hitch. “You get jealous at me flirting with other girls, but you can’t expect me to just sit here while you fuck with Jake, either. It’s a two-way street, you know?”

He pulled back slightly, looking deep into your eyes, searching for a reaction. You felt a surge of irritation mix with a strange thrill at his words, his expression teasing yet sincere. “Fine,” you huffed, frustration bubbling to the surface. But the truth was, you wanted to fight against it, to challenge him. “Maybe I don’t want to keep playing games too.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” He stepped back, that playful glint returning to his eyes. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pressing on you, and for a moment, all the teasing, all the games, melted away. “I want you to stop messing with my head and just be honest with me.”

Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, and for a brief moment, the playful banter gave way to something deeper. “Alright, I can do that. I want you. No games.”

You felt your heart race at his admission, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “Okay,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “No games.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a challenge flickering in his eyes. “But even now, you’re still not making the first move, are you?”

You held his gaze, unflinching. The air was thick with tension, and the silence stretched between you, charged with anticipation. You didn’t want to be the first to break; instead, you leaned into the moment, your heart pounding as you locked your eyes onto his.

Instead of waiting for him to lean in, you took a step back, slowly opening your door and entering your room, all while keeping your eyes fixed on him. You moved in reverse, your gaze never leaving his, a playful yet inviting challenge dancing in your expression. The door creaked slightly as you stepped inside, the space now feeling intimate and charged.

Sunghoon followed you inside, his gaze intense as he stepped through the threshold. He closed the door behind him with a firm thud, the sound echoing in the small room, sealing you both in a world of your own. You could feel the heat radiating off him as he advanced, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.

You walked backward until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed, the soft mattress providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. You felt the gentle push as you sat down, your eyes never leaving his. Sunghoon remained standing, towering over you, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his expression shifting to one of determination. “So, you think you can just tease me like this?” His voice dropped an octave, filled with a rough edge that sent shivers down your spine.

You held his gaze, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I’m not scared of you,” you replied, trying to sound bold, but the way he looked at you made it hard to maintain your composure.

He smirked, a confident glint in his eyes. “Good, because I’m not playing games anymore.” With that, he took a step back, deliberately creating a bit of distance. You watched, curious, as he slowly removed his blazer, revealing a fitted shirt that clung to his frame. He left a few buttons undone, exposing just enough of his chest to make your heart race.

The sight of him, so effortlessly confident and attractive, made your breath hitch. You leaned back on your hands, your heart pounding as you assessed him, unable to look away. The playful banter had evaporated, leaving only a charged atmosphere between you.

“See something you like?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, making it hard to think straight.

“Maybe,” you replied, a hint of challenge in your tone, even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly back, inviting him to close the distance.

Sunghoon stepped forward again, this time his presence more dominant, almost predatory. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?” He leaned closer, making your heart race even faster. Standing before you, he towered over you, a commanding figure that filled the space with undeniable energy.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt both vulnerable and exhilarated under his touch. “Look at me,” he urged softly, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of intensity and something deeper swirling within them.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment, your heart pounding as he carefully maintained the connection. There was an undeniable tension in the air, charged with desire and anticipation.

“I want you to understand just how much I want this,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your chin lightly, sending electric sparks through you. It was a simple gesture, yet it felt like an invitation into something thrilling and unknown.

“I think I can say I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, heart racing as you laid your feelings bare.

“Oh, really?” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes, his lips curling into a smirk that sent butterflies swirling in your stomach. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, a powerful move that made your breath hitch.

As he knelt, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in this charged atmosphere. He leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for your sandal, fingers brushing against your ankle as he began to slip it off.

You felt a rush of heat wash over you, the intimate gesture sending your mind into a whirl. You wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but the way he looked at you left you momentarily speechless. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, a stark contrast to the fiery desire building between you.

With deliberate slowness, he moved to your second sandal, his fingers brushing your skin as he slipped it off. His gaze never faltered, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The world outside your room faded, and it felt like just the two of you existed in this electrifying moment.

As he slipped it off your foot, he leaned in closer, lifting your leg gently. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, and you could barely contain the gasp that escaped your lips.

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his smirk widening as he caught sight of the goosebumps that had formed along your leg. “Did that feel good?” he teased, his voice low and filled with mischief.

You could only nod, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through you. The way he was looking at you, combined with his gentle touch, was driving you wild. He leaned back in, his lips brushing against your skin once more, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the length of your calf, his touch featherlight yet searing against your skin. Each press of his mouth sent another wave of heat rolling through you, making it harder to focus on anything but the way he was worshipping you with every movement. When he reached your knee, he lingered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin there, before placing a final, lingering kiss just above it.

Then, he stopped. He straightened to his full height, towering over you once more, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He looked at you like he was taking in every detail, every reaction, every silent plea hidden behind your parted lips.

“Stand up,” he murmured, his voice smooth but firm.

You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your body moving before your mind could catch up. As you rose to your feet, the space between you crackled with tension, the air thick with anticipation. Sunghoon stepped behind you, his presence overwhelming without even touching you. The warmth of his body was right there, just close enough to make your skin tingle, just far enough to make you ache for more.

“Turn around,” he instructed, and you felt the heat in his voice as you complied, slowly pivoting until your back was to him.

You held your breath, heart hammering in your chest as you felt his fingers brush over your shoulder, grazing the strap of your dress. He didn’t rush—no, he was taking his time, savoring every second. You could feel his breath ghosting over the nape of your neck, the sensation sending a delicious shudder through you.

His fingers trailed down the length of your spine, following the fabric of your dress as he reached for the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear.

Sunghoon’s breath was warm against your ear, the tension between you thick enough to drown in. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your dress for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, voice low and dripping with amusement.

“Can I?” he murmured, his tone edged with something dark, something hungry, and you nodded.

And then, with a swift, decisive motion, he dragged the zipper down, the sound slicing through the silence. Your dress loosened instantly, slipping off your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet like it had simply given up under his touch.

Sunghoon took a small step back, just enough to take you in. His gaze darkened as it roamed over you, lingering on the deep blue lingerie that now stood between him and everything he wanted. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his smirk deepened.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, almost to himself. “Did you wear this for me?”

Before you could answer, he was already moving, his lips pressing against your bare shoulder, slow and deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His hands traced the curves of your waist before gripping your hips, pulling you back against him so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.

“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he mused between kisses, his mouth trailing up the side of your neck, making you shudder. “Wearing something like this, knowing I’d see it.” His teeth grazed your skin, and you gasped, your body instinctively pressing closer. Sunghoon chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I think you like being caught.”

His hands slid over your stomach before he turned you around in one fluid motion. The second your eyes met his, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fingers working quickly, desperate to even the playing field. But you barely made it to the middle of his torso before Sunghoon caught your wrists, halting your movements.

His gaze was sharp, his smirk downright sinful. “Did I say you could take my shirt off?” he asked, tilting his head. “Good girls ask first.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, all you could do was stare at him, heart pounding, lips parting in surprise.

The moment stretched between you for a beat—then, before you could react, Sunghoon pushed you back onto the bed. You barely had time to process the way your body sank into the mattress before he was over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you open beneath him.

His smirk was gone now. What replaced it was something darker, something dangerously close to pure need.

“Now,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “Let’s see if you can be good for me after all.”

Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing into yours, his breath fanning against your lips, but still—still—he hadn’t kissed you yet. His eyes burned into yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your thigh, teasing, withholding, making you squirm beneath him.

You were done waiting. You reached up, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him down—but before your lips could meet, he let out a quiet chuckle, his mouth barely ghosting over yours.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, with knowing.

You didn’t get a chance to respond, because in the next second, his lips finally crashed against yours, swallowing the air from your lungs. The kiss was nothing short of devastating.

His mouth moved against yours with an urgency that left you dizzy, like he’d been starving for this as much as you had. He didn’t hold back—he kissed you deep, kissed you like he wanted to ruin you, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, demanding more, taking more.

You melted into him, nails digging into his back as his tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate at first, then more intense, more desperate. His teeth grazed your lower lip before he sucked it between his own, drawing a soft whimper from you. That sound only seemed to spur him on.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he was trying to fuse you together. The weight of him, the way he pressed into you with every shift of his body, had your head spinning.

Your fingers found their way to his shirt again, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to get it off, to feel his skin against yours. But just as you started to undo another one, Sunghoon suddenly grabbed your wrists, stopping you in your tracks.

His lips were swollen, his breathing uneven, but his voice was firm as he said, “What did I just say?”

You blinked up at him, dazed. “What?”

“I told you to ask first.” His voice dropped lower, more authoritative. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.

Heat flooded through you, your breath catching at the way he looked at you—so in control, so effortlessly dominant. Still, you couldn’t help the whiny edge that crept into your voice. “But I—”

“Don’t start,” he cut you off, his tone sharp. His fingers traced down your arm, featherlight, sending a shiver through you. “You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. His words, his tone—it had you falling silent, something deep inside you tightening in response. Sunghoon’s smirk deepened, like he could see the exact moment you surrendered to him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, then leaned down, his lips crashing into yours again. This time, it was even more intense.

His kiss was all-consuming, leaving no space for hesitation. He devoured you, his tongue sliding against yours, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into your waist, your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back. Still straddling you, Sunghoon shifted, moving up onto his knees. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and your breath caught as you watched him slowly undo them one by one. You lifted yourself slightly, propping up on your elbows, eyes locked onto him, completely transfixed. The way his fingers moved, the slow reveal of his toned chest—it was hypnotizing, addictive.

He caught you staring, smirking. You swallowed, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t look away. Then he paused, his fingers still on the last few buttons. His gaze met yours, dark and unreadable. “Ask.”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath shaky as you whispered, “Can I touch you, Hoon?”

For a second, he just stared at you, like he was drinking in the way you looked—needy, desperate, completely at his mercy. Then, finally, he gave a small nod. You wasted no time. Your hands reached out, fingers sliding against his skin as you slowly pushed his shirt open. Your touch was soft, reverent, tracing over his chest, his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.

You leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest as you worked on the last of the buttons, your lips trailing down the hard planes of his body, tasting him, feeling every flex of his muscles under your touch. The shirt slipped off his shoulders, falling to the bed, forgotten.

Your hands moved lower, gliding over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched as you hesitated there, glancing up at him, waiting, asking without words. His eyes darkened. Without a word, he reached down, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, slow, teasing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, with something deeper. His thumb pressed just slightly against your lip, feeling the way it parted under his touch. “So obedient.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard, your entire body buzzing under his touch. Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, still toying with your bottom lip beneath his thumb. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Your face felt like it was on fire, but you forced the words out, even if your voice came out softer than you intended. “I want you.”

Something dark flashed in his gaze, his smirk widening as if he’d been waiting to hear that. He straightened up, stepping back slightly until he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you.

“Then be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

A fresh wave of heat surged through you at his words. You shifted, moving carefully until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking up at him, heart racing in anticipation.

Sunghoon’s smirk never faltered. He let you settle into position before speaking again. “Take them off.” Your hands moved almost on their own, reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling slightly from the sheer tension in the air. You undid the buckle, the soft clinking sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. The button came next, then the zipper, your fingertips grazing the warm skin of his lower abdomen as you tugged the fabric down.

You took your time, dragging his pants down inch by inch, your fingers brushing against the firm muscles of his thighs, your breath coming out uneven as more of him was revealed to you. The air between you felt heavy, thick with anticipation, as the fabric slipped lower, pooling around his ankles.

Now, he was standing over you in nothing but his boxers, the outline of him straining against the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your mouth went dry. Heat coiled low in your stomach, an intoxicating mix of arousal and the sheer intensity of the moment.

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle at your expression, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. He reached down, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was a slow, teasing drawl, dripping with amusement, with control.

You weren’t sure if it was his tone, the way he looked at you, or the fact that you could feel his heat, inches away from your lips, but you felt dizzy. Your breath shuddered as you leaned in, your lips hovering just over the hard outline beneath his boxers, your eyes flicking up to meet his again, filled with nothing but quiet submission.

Sunghoon hummed, his smirk deepening. “Uh-uh.” His fingers traced along the side of your face before sliding into your hair, gripping it lightly. “You have to ask first, baby.”

Your stomach clenched. The grip in your hair wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to remind you who was in charge. Your lips parted, voice coming out softer than you intended. “Please, Hoon…”

His expression remained unchanged, feigning innocence. “Please what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering as you tilted your head, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against his lower abdomen. His scent overwhelmed you, making you lightheaded. Your hands lifted to his hips, playing with the hem of his boxers, teasing the waistband between your fingers. “Let me take these off.”

Sunghoon inhaled slowly through his nose, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The hand in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head back further. “Say please.”

You exhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Something flickered in his gaze—satisfaction, control. It was a look that sent another wave of heat rushing through you, making your entire body feel hyperaware of the moment. The way he loomed over you, his chest rising and falling steadily, the grip he still had in your hair—it all made you feel small in the best possible way. Then, his smirk returned, slow and knowing, his head tilting just slightly as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing down lightly, testing you. “Go ahead, baby.”

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, and you took your time, dragging the fabric down slowly, purposefully, letting your nails graze against his hips as you went. As soon as he was bare, your breath hitched. You felt lightheaded with anticipation, the heat pooling low in your stomach tightening at the sight of him, already so hard for you. Sunghoon was big.

Your lips parted, a quiet, shaky breath escaping as you immediately leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the base of his cock. His grip in your hair tightened, his chest rising with a sharp inhale as you trailed your lips up his length, your tongue tracing the prominent vein that ran along the side.

“Fuck.” His voice came out low, wrecked, his head tipping back just slightly before his gaze returned to you, dark and heavy-lidded.

You took your time, your tongue teasing him with deliberate, languid licks, savoring the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against your mouth. Sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you subtly, his hips barely shifting forward, making you gasp.

“Just like that, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “So fucking good.”

The praise only fueled you, made you more eager, more desperate to please. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him in slowly, inch by inch, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. His reaction was immediate—a sharp exhale through his nose, his jaw clenching, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his thumb tracing your lower lip again when you pulled back slightly, your lips slick and swollen. “So fucking eager, huh?”

You nodded, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants, your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, your lips slick and swollen. He shook his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you back down. You leaned in again, parting your lips and taking him in, slow and deliberate at first, before hollowing your cheeks and sucking, letting your tongue drag along the underside of his cock, feeling the way he pulsed under your touch. His breathing hitched, a quiet curse slipping from his lips as his hand flexed in your hair.

“Fuck, just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “You take me so well, baby. Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise only made you more eager, made you want to pull more sounds from him, made you want to push him further. Your hands gripped at his thighs as you moved, setting a steady pace, swallowing around him, letting out soft little moans that you knew would drive him insane. His hips twitched, just barely holding himself back from thrusting into your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened sharply, pulling you back with a swift, firm motion. Your lips slipped from his cock with a soft, wet pop, and you blinked up at him, dazed, your mind foggy with the haze of arousal. Confusion flickered in your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you searched his face, but he only smirked at you, his gaze dark and heavy-lidded.

Without a word, he let go of your hair and moved, shifting back onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, his legs spread lazily apart like he had all the time in the world. He propped an arm behind his head, watching you with an almost lazy amusement, like he was enjoying every second of making you wait.

Then, his voice cut through the thick silence. “Take those off for me.”

Your stomach clenched at his tone—low, commanding, expectant. You swallowed, nodding as you slowly got to your feet, standing at the edge of the bed as you reached for the straps of your bra.

Sunghoon’s gaze never left you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he watched, his dark eyes flickering with anticipation. You dragged the straps down your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down inch by inch, revealing your bare chest. His smirk widened as he caught sight of it, his eyes darkening, his fingers flexing against his thigh. You let your underwear pool at your feet, and you could feel the hunger in his expression, the way his fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to reach out and grab you.

Then, he tilted his head, patting his thigh once, his voice smooth, teasing. “Come here, pretty.”

Your breath hitched, your skin prickling with anticipation as you moved towards him, crawling onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate, almost feline, like you were savoring every second of this.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice nothing but smooth approval. “So fucking pretty for me.”

The moment you were close enough, his hands found your waist, his grip firm, possessive—grounding you even as the rest of your body buzzed with anticipation. You hovered over him, your palms pressed against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His fingers dragged along your sides, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every inch of you to memory, like he had no intention of rushing this.

And then he saw it. A darkened mark blooming against your collarbone, the unmistakable imprint of lips and teeth that weren’t his.

Sunghoon stilled, his smirk curling at the edges as his fingers ghosted over the bruise. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I knew he was going to mark you…” His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something darker, something claiming.

Before you could respond, his lips were on you, tracing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He took his time, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot before sinking his teeth in just enough to make you shudder.

“And I knew you were gonna let him,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with amusement. His lips moved higher, grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You can’t control yourself, can you?”

A sharp smack landed on your ass before you could process his words. You gasped, the sting spreading deliciously through your skin, and your eyes shot to him in shock, only to find him already watching you, biting down a smirk. He tilted his head slightly, gaze dark, knowing. “You like that, huh?” His fingers kneaded at the spot, soothing the burn even as his smirk grew.

Your breath hitched, the heat in your stomach curling even tighter. You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

Sunghoon let out a soft, breathy laugh, his hand squeezing your waist, grounding you as he pulled you closer. “I knew you were dirty like this.”

And then his lips were on you again, but this time, lower. He kissed down the valley between your breasts, slow and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, sucking another mark into your flesh. His hands smoothed over your thighs, squeezing, gripping, before sliding up to cup your chest, his thumbs brushing over your already hardened nipples.

He took his time with you, savoring every reaction, every little gasp, every arch of your body against him. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull sounds from you with just his mouth, just his hands. You whimpered as he dragged his tongue over your sensitive skin, your hips involuntarily rolling against his stomach, seeking friction, seeking anything.

His grip on your hips tightened instantly, stilling your movements. “Behave,” he said, his voice low, commanding, a warning.

A thrill shot through you at his tone, at the weight of his control, but you weren’t ready to submit just yet. You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly, feigning innocence. “Or what?”

His smirk widened, slow, almost lazy, like he was waiting for you to say that. Like he’d been hoping you would. “Oh, sweetheart…” His fingers dug into your skin, his voice dropping into something deeper, darker, full of promise. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Before you could process, he moved. A sharp gasp left your lips as Sunghoon flipped you onto the mattress in one swift, effortless motion, pinning your body beneath him. His hands were on you immediately—strong, commanding, securing your wrists above your head with ease. His grip was firm, his body caging you in, leaving you completely at his mercy.

Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you stared up at him, wide-eyed, your skin burning everywhere he touched. His gaze was dark, filled with something primal, something almost dangerous. And then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches before he bit down on your lower lip, sharp enough to make you whimper.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath fanning over your lips. “What do you want?” His voice was deep, teasing, dripping with control.

Your body arched instinctively, your thighs squeezing together in desperate search of relief, but you couldn’t move—not with the way he had you pinned so effortlessly beneath him. A whimper escaped you, but no words followed. Sunghoon smirked.

His grip on your wrists shifted, securing them in one hand, while his free hand trailed down your jaw, his fingers gripping your chin with just enough force to make you shiver. He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes, his thumb brushing slowly over your parted lips.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Your breath hitched, your body writhing under him, and when you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Fuck me, Sunghoon.”

He hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “Didn’t quite hear you, baby.” His hips lowered, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing, taunting, making you gasp. Your entire body trembled beneath him, the ache inside you growing unbearable.

A frustrated whine left your lips, your voice turning desperate, pleading. “I want you to fuck me, Sunghoon.”

He let out a dark, satisfied chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Before you could take another breath, his hand was between your legs, fingers gliding through your wetness, spreading you open. The teasing circles he drew over your clit made your thighs shake, your body twitching at every deliberate, calculated movement.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His fingers pressed down harder, rubbing slow, languid strokes that sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

You whimpered, your back arching against his touch. “Don’t tease me, please… I need you.”

Sunghoon smirked against your skin, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear before he murmured, “I need to prep you first.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding between your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Don’t want to hurt my pretty girl.” His voice was soft, almost affectionate. He lets go of your wrists, and you hold on to his arms.

His fingers slipped inside you with ease, stretching you open, filling you in a way that had your back arching off the mattress. A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as Sunghoon worked you open, his movements slow at first—teasing, purposeful.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, watching your face closely, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So fucking good for me.”

His fingers moved faster, deeper, the lewd sounds of your wetness filling the room, only fueling the fire in his darkened gaze. Your thighs trembled, your body tightening around him, the pressure in your stomach coiling impossibly tight. He could feel it—how close you were. And he wanted to push you over that edge.

“Tell me…” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his fingers pumped into you with merciless precision. “Did he treat you nice like this?”

Your mind was hazy, the pleasure consuming you whole. You couldn’t even form words, couldn’t respond—all you could do was moan, your nails digging into his forearm as his pace quickened.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disapproval. “Can’t answer me?” His free hand came up, gripping your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb dragged along your swollen lips, smearing the drool that had gathered there. “You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you? Wanting two cocks at the same time… so greedy.”

His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, shame and arousal intertwining in a way that made you squirm beneath him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for every other man,” he murmured darkly, leaning down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You hear me?”

The coil inside you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you so intensely that you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, your thighs trembling, your body convulsing beneath him as you unraveled onto his fingers.

Sunghoon groaned, watching you fall apart with hooded eyes, completely mesmerized. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, bringing them up to his lips before slipping them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them, savoring the taste of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling in the aftershocks, before he was positioning himself in front of you, his cock in hand, the tip already leaking against your entrance.

He looked at you then—really looked at you. Your eyes were dazed, pupils blown wide, lips parted as you gazed up at him with a look that made his breath hitch.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer now, a hint of something almost tender behind the rough dominance he exuded. You nodded quickly, biting your lip, anticipation swirling in your stomach as you ached to feel him inside you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured, stroking your thigh, his restraint evident in the tension in his muscles.

Sunghoon was big, and the mere thought of him stretching you open made you whimper. You looked up at him with wide, needy eyes, an innocent expression that only fueled the hunger in his gaze. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging the tip of his cock over your clit, rolling it in slow circles, making your body twitch beneath him. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” You could only nod, your breath hitching, your body strung so tight that you thought you might go insane if he didn’t fill you soon.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, as if he was holding himself back. You nodded again, appreciating the gentleness beneath his roughness, the way he still cared even while acting completely in control.

And then, finally, he pushed in—the thick head of his cock stretching you open, sinking into you inch by inch. Your body clenched around him, the feeling overwhelming, pleasure spreading through you like fire.

Your eyes rolled back, a moan slipping past your lips as you let your head fall completely against the bed, your hands gripping onto his strong biceps, needing something to ground you.

Sunghoon groaned lowly, watching the way your body took him, the way you squeezed around him so perfectly. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread. “You feel so fucking tight.”

His grip on your thigh was possessive, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. The slow, deliberate pace was maddening, the tease unbearable, but he seemed to revel in it—watching the way your body reacted to him, the way your lips parted in breathless moans, the way your fingers clawed at his biceps, desperate for more.

Your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily, lost in the intoxicating heat of each other’s touch. The room felt electric, the air thick with tension, every sound amplified—the slick slide of him moving inside you, the breathy whimpers escaping your lips, the deep, guttural moans he let out every time your walls clenched around him.

His hold tightened, fingers bruising as he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading you wider for him, as if he wanted to claim every inch of you. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, never quite kissing you, just breathing you in, his warm breath fanning over your flushed skin.

“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” His voice was a dark whisper against your lips. You could only nod, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Say it.” His hips rolled forward, a deep thrust that had your eyes rolling back, your nails scratching down his toned back.

“I—” You gasped, barely able to form words. “I wanted this so bad.”

Sunghoon groaned, his self-control slipping as he pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, burying himself deeper inside you. The stretch burned in the best way possible, a delicious ache that made your head spin. He was so big, filling you to the brim, making you feel completely owned, completely his.

His pace was still torturously slow, but each thrust was deep, deliberate, making you feel every inch of him. He watched your face intently, taking in every reaction, every twitch of your brows, every gasp and moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. “So fucking desperate.” You whimpered, your hands flying up to grasp at his wrist, not to pull him away but to hold onto him, to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

His thumb dragged over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh before slipping into your mouth. “Suck.” You obeyed without thinking, lips wrapping around his thumb, tongue swirling over the pad of it as you gazed up at him with glassy eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his restraint snapping.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his lips as he kissed you with a hunger that left you breathless. His pace quickened, hips slamming into yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you.

The shift in tempo had you gasping, whimpering against his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him in deeper. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic, wet sounds of him fucking into you, mixed with your broken moans and his deep, raspy groans.

“You take me so fucking well,” he praised, his lips dragging down your jaw, to the curve of your neck, where he sucked and nipped, leaving his mark. “My good girl. So tight. So perfect.”

Your body arched into him, every nerve ending ignited, your head spinning with pleasure. You could feel it building again—that familiar, fiery coil in your stomach, tightening with every thrust, with every filthy word he whispered into your ear.

“Sunghoon—” You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “I’m—” He groaned, sensing exactly how close you were.

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside you, his pace relentless now, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you trembling. “You’re gonna cum when I say you can, baby.”

You whined, body betraying you, your walls fluttering around him, your muscles locking up as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Hold it.” His voice was dark, commanding, but his own resolve was slipping. He was close too, his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, harder.

You couldn’t. You physically couldn’t. Your body was on fire, your mind blank, pleasure consuming you whole. “Sunghoon, please,” you sobbed, shaking beneath him.

His hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing just enough to send you spiraling, his voice a breathy groan as he finally gave you permission.

“Cum for me.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, so intense it stole the breath from your lungs, your vision blurring as your body convulsed beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, his movements growing sloppy, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release hitting him like a freight train. His body tensed, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you, filling you with warmth, his breath ragged against your ear.

The room was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing, both of you completely spent, bodies tangled together in the sheets. Sunghoon pressed lazy kisses to your jaw, your collarbone, your lips, his touch softer now, almost gentle.

Your body felt weightless, as if you were floating in the haze of pleasure that still clung to you, leaving you warm and blissfully dazed. Your limbs were heavy, spent, but his touch—gentle, soothing—kept you tethered to reality.

“You okay?” Sunghoon murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but still laced with concern. His fingers found your face, brushing away the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead. His eyes, still dark with the remnants of desire, softened when they met yours.

You nodded weakly, your body still buzzing, your mind slow to catch up. He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tender, as if savoring the taste of you, before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Your body draped over his chest, his warmth seeping into you, anchoring you in a way that made you want to stay like this forever.

His fingers traced absentminded patterns along the bare skin of your back—slow, lazy circles, up and down your spine, making you shiver despite the heat radiating from his body. His other hand, rough yet careful, brushed over your arm, then your waist, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there, tangled up with him in the sheets.

A deep sigh left his lips, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, the rhythm soothing, hypnotic. You pressed your cheek against his heart, listening to the soft thump, feeling the way it still raced slightly, evidence of how much he had wanted you, how much you had affected him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was full, heavy with unspoken words, but not in a way that begged for answers. It was enough just to be here, wrapped up in each other, breathing the same air, feeling the same warmth.

Then, after a moment, his hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, rhythmic motions. A small hum of pleasure escaped you at the comforting sensation, making him chuckle under his breath.

“Feels good?” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded again, too content to form words.

He shifted slightly, adjusting so that you were more securely nestled against him, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. “I like this,” he admitted, voice quieter now, more raw. “Having you like this. Feels… different.”

You lifted your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your fingers trailing over his collarbone, tracing the defined lines of his chest. “Different how?”

His eyes flickered down to you, something unreadable swirling in them. His thumb stroked the curve of your hip, his lips parting slightly before he hesitated. Then, with a quiet sigh, he muttered, “I don’t know. Just… good.”

Your heart clenched at the way he said it—so unguarded, so unlike the teasing, cocky Sunghoon you were used to. This was different. This was intimacy in its purest form, something unspoken lingering between the two of you, too fragile to name, but too strong to ignore. You pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to hover over him, your fingers still lazily tracing along his chest. “You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I get it.”

His gaze searched yours for a moment before he exhaled, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He reached up, brushing his knuckles against your cheek before guiding your lips back down to his. This kiss was different from before—no urgency, no hunger, just something soft, something deeper. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, like he wanted to leave a piece of himself behind in every press of his lips against yours.

You melted into him, sighing into the kiss, your hands coming up to frame his face, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you even closer. He kissed you slowly, taking his time, as if you had all the time in the world.

When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered against yours, his breath warm as he murmured, “Next time…” You swallowed, waiting, your body already shivering at the thought of what he might say next. “…I’m not letting you off so easy.” His voice was teasing, but the promise behind it sent a thrill down your spine.

You bit your lip, a lazy smile playing on your lips before leaning in to press a soft kiss against the sharp line of his jaw. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, the tease in your voice making Sunghoon let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

Without a word, he pulled you in closer, rolling onto his side until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive kind of ease. His hand smoothed over your stomach, fingertips tracing light patterns against your skin, grounding himself in the warmth of you.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, and for a second, he just held you there—basking in the way you fit so perfectly against him. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, that he liked having you like this, wrapped up in him, safe in his arms.

But he’d never admit that.

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author's note: SOOOOO.... LMAOOOOO READER IS THIS YOU RN?????

my best friend read this chapter and absolutely lost her mind so i’m taking that as a good sign LMAO also sorry for the length, i know it’s longer than usual but hopefully it’s worth it 👀

this is only the second smut scene i’ve ever written and i can’t believe it actually turned out good??? like hello since when do i have this talent i’m actually shook. anyway, i’m gonna take a little longer than usual to post the next update, so savor this one while you can 😌 BYEEEEE

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet @who-tf-soddhi @ilovewonyo @nickiminajleftasscheek @ikeulove @payformycoffeeandleave @jvngw0nlvr @qtke @nikirangs @rairaiblog @tinyteezer @catecita @aespaqq @cyberstephzz @jakesimfromstatefarm @maniluvzyou @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @heevrs @shuichi-sama @enhastars @immelissaaa @pjselee @hexnoia @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @love-4-keum @doublebunv @minfolio @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @doveblackboat @psychotic-girl-666 @kukkurookkoo @allie-mcginn @jkslvsnella @wintereals @why4anne @jakesfurry

[enchanted-by-fae]

I Love You (and That’s All I Really Know) - Azriel x Reader

Pairing: Knight!Azriel x Princess!Reader

Summary: You were his princess, and he was just a knight. Azriel was ready to prove he's worthy of your love.

4.2k words

Warnings: Jousting (nothing graphic), fluff, slight forbidden romance, angst kinda, author knows nothing about swordplay or jousting, Az doesn’t have his shadows, Eris is a bad guy in this, low key this is just adorable.

A/N: This is my first one-shot so hopefully you guys like it! The title and the story itself were influenced by Love Story by Taylor Swift. I was also kind of inspired by the first episode of House of the Dragon and the movie A Knights Tale

Azriel knew it was wrong. You were his princess and he was just a knight. The grand tourney would be held on the morrow and Azriel was ready to win. Not just the tourney but your affections as well. He needed to prove that he was worthy of loving you. 

The knight had been in love with you for years. He was best friends with your brother, Rhysand. They grew close as brothers, training together to one day become the greatest heroes your world has seen. Alongside their other best friend, Cassian, the three were inseparable. 

Azriel still remembers the day he first met you. He was still just a squire and didn’t even know who you were at first when he saw you. All he had seen was a girl chasing a rabbit on the grounds and he couldn’t help but be curious as to what you were up to. He saw you run into the forest after it, leaving him to chase after you. He would’ve felt responsible if something had happened when he could’ve prevented it.

“Hello?” he called out, not wanting to admit he actually was quite afraid to enter the forest alone. He had rumors as a child that sprites and faeries occupied this land and he wasn’t ready to learn the truth just yet. Azriel waited at the edge of the forest for your response but he never heard one. 

“Okay Az, man up,” he spoke aloud to himself. He took the first steps into the forest, looking for a sign as to where you could've run off to. “Sprites, if you live here then I beg you to please leave me alone,” he rambled. Azriel was able to find his bravery the further into the forest he ventured. He was going to be the world's greatest knight after all. After searching for a while Azriel began to question if you even ran in this direction. “Miss? Are you there?” he called again. 

He stopped for a moment to take in the surroundings, “where did you go?”, he pondered. Most people thought Azriel hated talking, in reality he just didn’t like people brushing him off. He found that the less you talk the more people pay attention when you actually have something to say. Of course, he never was like that with Rhys or Cass. His best friends were the only people he could truly be himself around. Another time he loved talking? When he was alone. He loved talking to himself. Who better to listen to him than- well, him.

“Okay,” he sighed out, “this better not be some game. I’m starting to get freaked out.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” a soft voice said behind him. Azriels eyes practically sprung out of his head as he completely stilled, scared to death at the mystery voice.

“Oh, sorry. Did I scare you again?” a girl. It was a girl speaking. Az let out a massive sigh of relief, finally being able to breath again, and turned to face the person he’s been searching for. You were the princess. He hadn’t recognized you as such when he saw you run off.

“You’re highness,” he immediately bowed. You just stood there, giggling. Azriel couldn’t help but be annoyed at that. “I came looking for you, not wanting to see you in trouble,” he explained. 

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?” you questioned.

Az thought that surely you couldn’t be serious, “well the forest is a dangerous place. It’s rumored that sprites and faeries live here.”

“Oh, well I haven’t seen any sprites. And I don’t think I’ve seen any faeries either,” you beamed. “I just came to help a rabbit friend,” Azriel thought at that moment you must be insane.

He looked at you quizzically, “a rabbit friend?”

You nodded your head, “yes- well, I mean that we’re friends now. He had a thorn stuck in his paw and the poor thing was in pain. We get along quite well now!” Azriels brows furrowed and you just giggled at him. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?” you laughed. He had never heard such a lovely sound before. If he could, Azriel would only listen to your laugh forever.

“I’ve just never heard of someone having a rabbit friend before,” he reasoned. 

You just gave him a small shrug before starting the walk back to the palace. “I’m not crazy, just so you know,” you told him. Azriel just looked at you, in hopes of an explanation. “I just think that animals deserve the same respect and love as people. We did invade their homes after all.”

Azriel had never thought of it like that before but he supposed you were right. There’s something so beautiful about nature but then people came along and built palaces and villages. Taking over the land. He admired the way your brain works.

“Hey, you’re my brother's friend aren’t you?” you inquired. 

“Yeah, Rhysand and I are pretty close,” he answered. 

You looked at him with a smile, “he has good taste in friends then. Thank you for coming after me,” you gracefully inclined your head in gratitude.

Azriel offered a smile in return, “of course, princess.”

“Please, call me Y/N,” you asked him.

“Of course, Y/N,” he corrected. Just then he remembered he hadn’t told you his name, “you can call me Azriel.”

“Azriel,” you tried it out. “I like it!” you proclaimed. Now Azriel was offering you a chuckle of his own. He couldn’t remember the last time someone who wasn't Rhys or Cass got him to laugh. In fact, he couldn’t remember when someone who wasn’t his friends got him to talk this much. 

The two of you made your way back to the palace, chatting the entire way back. 

“Well, Azriel, I should get back to my lessons. I’m sure my tutor is having a fit,” you explained. “Thanks again for the escort,” you then started the journey to your study and Azriel just stood there watching you walk away.

“My pleasure, Y/N,” he whispered to himself. 

—

The two of you maintained a steady friendship throughout the years. You grew into a lovely young woman. Always compassionate towards your people, and you still cared a great deal for animals. You also were pretty brilliant. Azriel found himself amazed at some of the things you came up with. Your mind was one of the things he loved most about you. 

As you and he got older, he found himself falling more and more in love with you. He almost confessed it to you just a few months ago at your nameday celebration, but he chickened out at the last moment. He was just a knight. They typically didn’t marry princesses, especially bastards like him.

He did have a plan, however, to make his love for you known. The king was throwing an upcoming tourney to celebrate Rhysands marriage to Lady Feyre. The champion prize was having a wish granted by the king. He planned to ask you for a token of luck before he was to joust and when he won, that will be when he asks for your hand.

—

“Princess Y/N,” Azriel greeted as he found you roaming the gardens, guards lingering behind.

A graceful smile bloomed across your face, “Az, please just call me Y/N,”

Azriel shook his head, a smile of his own appearing, “I just like to tease you.”

“Well don't! It’s not nice to treat your princess that way,” you justified.

“You just said to not call you princess!” he exclaimed. He loved it when the two of you had these playful arguments. They made something in his stomach pleasantly twist.

You were trying to remain serious but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, “you should still treat me as a princess.”

If things went his way tomorrow, he would treat you as a princess everyday for the rest of his life. He just slightly bowed his head towards you, “of course prin- Y/N.”

You gave him a playful head shake at his correction. “Are you ready for the tourney tomorrow,” you changed the subject. 

Azriel tries not to give away his plans for tomorrow regarding you. He wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise. “Of course I am,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

You turn towards Azriel, who's now walking beside you in the garden. He watches as you study his face slowly, looking for any signs of deception. Azriel has known you for a long time but you've known him for a long time too. You know all of his tells just as well as he knows yours. Yes, you were definitely onto him.

“That's great Az,” you say finally. He lets out a silent breath of relief.  “I’m sure you’ll win, the only other real competition is Cass,” you add.

Az paused, he completely forgot Cassian was jousting too. He should tell Cass of his plan to propose to you. His friend was enough of a romantic that Azriel was sure that he could get him to throw the competition. 

Cassian married Lady Nesta just a few months ago and they were disgustingly adorable. Lady Nesta was the eldest sister of Rhysands new wife, Feyre. He thought it was nice how his brothers found sisters to wed. He was even happier to have you all to himself now that Cass was out of the way. There were a few years where all Cassian could do was flirt with you. Azriel had never been more jealous in his life. He eventually snapped and let his brother in on his affections for you. His friend backed off after that.

“Oh, I’m not worried about “The Lord of Bloodshed”, or whatever he wants to call himself,” Azriel teased. Cass had started to call himself that after the first battle the three of them fought together. Az had never seen anything like it, he was almost demon-like out there. It was strange as Cassian was much different when he was with his friends.

You just giggled at Azriels teasing, “You’re not worried about perhaps the greatest knight this kingdom has ever seen, Sir Azriel?” Az couldn’t help the fluttering of his heart as you used his proper title. 

“Trust me, sweetheart, if anyone here is the greatest then it's me,” he confidently replied. Azriel didn’t miss the flush of your cheeks at the term of endearment used. 

“Then I wish you luck,” you curtseyed, “I shall see you on the morrow then?” 

Az gave you a bow and took your hand in his, placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles, “you shall.” Your face flushed to deep crimson before pulling your hand back and stalking off back towards the palace

—

Azriel found Cassian in the training yard, and he wasn’t alone. He found his two best friends in an intense sword fight. Both of them were very good. Az found peace in knowing Rhysand wouldn’t be competing tomorrow, as the tourney was to celebrate his marriage. That just left him to deal with Cassian, who at that moment knocked his opponent on his ass, leaving Rhysand as the loser. 

“Well, well, well, look who decided to show his face at training,” Cassian called out to Azriel, helping pull Rhys back to his feet.

“Nice fight,” Azriel turned towards Rhysand, “sorry you had your ass handed to you.”

Cassian let out a chuckle, “he sure as hell did.” Rhysand was not amused, scowling at them both. “Oh wipe that face off, Rhys. You’re probably just tired,” Cass smirked, “Feyre wearing you out?”

Rhysand just looked at Cassian with a devilish grin, “something like that.” 

Azriel just stood there, laughing at his friends. “Cassian, could I speak with you about something?” he asked. Cassian just looked at him with a quizzical brow.

“Why do you just need to speak to Cass?” Rhysand questioned, “I am your prince, after all.” Azriel was starting to ponder if pulling rank was a family trait. 

Azriel never actually told Rhysand about his love for you. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but he supposed it would be nice to have both his best friends backing him up tomorrow. 

Azriel took a deep inhale before speaking, “I’m going to wish for Y/N’s hand in marriage when I win tomorrow.”

Rhysand and Cassian dropped their swords simultaneously, staring at Azriel.

“You- wait my sister?”

“Finally!” The two exclaimed at once. Cassian wrapped his arms around Azriel, “you have my congratulations, brother,” he beamed.

“You knew about this?” Rhysand questioned Cass. 

Cassian let out a sigh as he backed away from embracing Azriel. “yes, Rhys. I knew,” his response laced with guilt.

Rhysands confusion grew deeper and deeper. The only thing holding Azriel together was that he didn’t seem angry. “How- how long have you been in love with my sister?” Rhys asked.

Azriel shit his eyes, breathed, and reopened them, “since the day I met her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rhysand seemed more hurt than the fact his best friend was in love with his sister. 

Azriel felt guilt coursing through him, “I didn’t know how you’d react. I thought you’d be angry,” he confessed.

Rhysand just blew out a sigh, “Why would I be angry?” It was now Azriels turn for confusion. “I honestly couldn’t think of a man more deserving than you to marry her,” Rhys informed.

“You truly mean that?” Az couldn’t contain the small grin he had.

Rhysand nodded, “of course,” he walked over and clapped Azriel on the shoulder, “she’d be lucky to have you. And you’d be lucky to have her.”

“Does this mean I have your blessing then?” Azriel queried.

Rhysand gave him a wide grin, “of course, although it’s not mine you need. How do you plan to convince the king?”

“I have a plan,” Azriel told his brothers before bringing his attention back to Cassian, “I need a favor.”

“Anything,” Cassian responded. Azriel informed his brothers of just how he’ll gain your fathers approval.

—

Azriel was set to fight his first match against a knight he had never heard of until before today, he was good. Not as good as Azriel, however. Azriel beat opponent after opponent, the crowd cheering his name. He loved the rush of the sport but if he was being honest with himself, he only cared if you were cheering his name. Which you were.

Azriel picked out your voice instantly, as it was the loudest. He looked at the royal box where you were seated on the left of your father, Nesta on your other side. When you weren’t cheering for Az, you were conversing with the lady. Azriel thought it was sweet how well you got along with her and Feyre. The latter of whom was seated next to Rhysand, on the opposite side of your father.

Soon Azriel found himself going against Cassian. During the conversation they had the day prior, his friend had agreed to lose. He felt bad asking it of Cass, but Azriel needed to win. 

Azriel saddled himself on his horse once more and did a quick canter around the arena. He stopped just below the royal box.

“Princess Y/N” he called, using your formal title considering how public you currently were. His heart skipped a beat as you appeared before him.

“Yes, Sir Azriel?” you questioned, a mischievous smile gracing your face.

“Might I have a token? For luck,” he raised his lance high enough for you to bestow your favor. You nodded your head before you darted off to your seat to grab your gift.

“For you, good sir,” you came back with an intricately weaved wreath of flowers, placing it down on his lance. You leaned over the balcony just enough for Az to hear, “Win my heart, Sir Azriel.” You smiled at his dazed expression before returning to your spot besides the king. 

Azriel just sat there on his horse, amazed at what you had just said. He finally snapped back into reality and rode back to his starting position. He was ready to win your heart. 

—

Azriel was at his end of the fence, waiting for the signal to face off against Cassian. You were so close. Finally, Cassian emerged from his end of the barrier. Azriel looked towards his friend and noticed that he was riding a different horse. Then he noticed that the suit of armor was not the one Cass wore. And the killing blow was when the knight took off his helmet and revealed the face of Sir Eris.

Azriel called for a time out before the joust could begin, needing to check what happened with Cassian. He took off on his horse towards the opposite end in search of answers.

He arrived towards his new opponent, “Sir Eris, what has happened to Cassian?”

Eris let out a scoff, “you mean that idiot?”

Azriel glared at him, “yes, him.”

“Oh, well you see,” Eris began, “he lost.”

That wasn’t right. Cassian doesn’t lose. Especially to fools like Eris. Azriel never liked him. He was always full of himself. Thinking he was better all because he was to be the king of his own kingdom someday. Rhysand was in line for his own throne, and his friend still maintained humility.

“I doubt that is the truth of the matter,” Azriel defended. He hadn’t seen every tournament today, he was busy competing on his own as there were multiple tournaments being held. It was all meant to lead up to this, the grand finale. Azriel hoped that Eris was just making a show of himself, rather than telling the truth.

“Oh but it is,” Eris smirked, “I knocked him down myself. See for yourself.” Azriel followed to where Eris’ line of sight went, the royal box. 

There he sat, next to his wife. Cassian was hanging his head in his hands, upset by the defeat and that he wouldn’t be able to help his brother any longer. Nesta rubbed comforting circles on his back and you moved to sit at his feet in hopes of cheering him. 

“I wish you luck, Sir Azriel,” Eris mockingly bowed his head before placing his helmet back on.

Azriel galloped back to his end of the arena. He took a few deep breaths, thinking everything through. He knew he could take down Eris, but it would’ve been helpful if he had the guaranteed win he had with Cassian. If he lost, he’d never be able to marry you. He had to clear all the negativity from his mind. He would win. He could do this. Azriel would do as you told him and win your heart. 

The signal went off for the grand finale to begin. Eris galloped down first, charging with might. Azriel followed almost instantly, securing his helmet. Focus. He needed to focus. Azriel, with direct precision, aimed for Eris’s shoulder. It would earn him a few points if the blow landed. 

It didn’t. The blow just missed Eris and instead one landed on Azrael's shoulder. One point for Eris.

Their squires handed each of them a new lance, set to begin round two. They began their gallops down again. Eris landed another blow on Az on his shoulder. Eris now had two points on Azriel.

The third round would be the last if Eris landed another blow. The first to three points wins so that meant Azriel had to get at least one point, in hopes of continuing longer with a chance of a comeback. He had another option as well. If he knocked Eris from his horse then he would automatically be declared as the winner. 

Az blew out a breath, “okay, I can do this. Just knock Eris on his ass,” Azriel rambled to himself. He never could break the habit. “Easy enough,” he confidently whispered.

Azriels squire handed him his final lance, desperate to get this over with and to make you his at last. The two nights began their descents towards each other, lances ready to deliver their final blows. 

This time Azriel aimed further in, closer to Eris’ chest. He galloped and galloped. He had something to fight for. Someone to fight for. You. All he could think of was just how lovely you are and how he so desperately wanted to you to be in his arms.

Azriel landed his blow. Eris missed. He missed and was immediately knocked off his horse. He had done it. Azriel won. He removed his helmet and let out a laugh. Not because it was funny, but because he gets his wish and Eris gets nothing.

Azriel trotted over towards the royal box, ready to face your father. He got off his horse smoothly and there you were, looking at him in a way he had always hoped you would.

“Sir Azriel,” the king started, rising from his seat, “it seems as though congratulations are in order.”

Azriel kneeled before his king, “thank you, your majesty. The honor was mine.”

“You do understand what you receive for your victory, yes?” the king asked. 

“Yes, one wish granted,” Azriel nodded breathlessly. He could hardly contain his nervous excitement. 

The king took a moment, “that is correct.” The king began walking towards Azriel until there wasn’t much space left between them. “Stand,” he ordered. Azriel did as he said, rising to meet his king's eyes. “What is it you would wish for?” he asked.

“I would like to ask for the hand of Princess Y/N,” he nervously asked. Azriel took a fleeting glance towards you, making eye contact. He wanted to spend forever looking into your eyes. Azriel lost his nerves completely, knowing you were looking at him with such admiration. 

“I wish to make her my bride. I wish to make her happy for the rest of her life. I wish to love her, and to hold her. I wish for Y/N, my king” Azriel requested in his most authoritative voice. 

The king's face was one of indifference, “are you not a bastard?”

Azriel won the tourney. His birth status should not matter anymore. He was tired of the obstacles in his way. He felt his temper bubble to the surface. That was when Az felt a gentle hand place itself on his forearm. He looked to his side, and there you were.

“Father, the rules stated the winner would have any wish granted to them,” you came to his defense. 

“Yes but, Y/N, he’s a bastard,” the king justified.

“I love him, as he loves me,” you proclaimed. Azriel had no idea that you truly returned his feelings. Of course he suspected, that was why he had done all of this after all. Hearing it from you made his chest thunder with excitement. You loved him. 

The king looked between the two of you, “you truly love him?” he asked his daughter.

“Yes father, I do. Please grant him this wish,” you began to plead. 

Your father looked towards Azriel now, “you truly love her?” he asked Azriel, repeating the same question he had for you.

“I do,” Azriel said without a second thought. “I love her and wish to make her my wife,” he continued, looking down towards you. 

You felt his gaze upon you and turned to make eye contact with him, giving him a smile he had never seen you wear before but he somehow loved this one the most. “Please, father” you begged once more.

The king examined Azriel once more, then brought his gaze to you. “Very well, the two of you shall be married,” he declared loud enough for most of the arena to hear. Soon enough applause and cheers filled the open space, the crowd rejoicing in the news. 

With that the tourney came to a close, the king and his royal guard taking their leave. Azriel spared a quick glance to his friends as they left with Feyre and Nesta, presumably to give him a moment alone with his fiancée. He loved that he could call you that now. And soon, you'd be his wife.

When everyone in the royal box left and the two of you were as close to being alone as possible, he went to gently take your face into his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you love me?” he asked you.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you love me?” you retorted. 

Azriel let out a chuckle, “you have me there, princess.”

“I’m sorry I never told you. Truthfully,” you removed his hands from your face, pulling them close to your chest, “I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

Azriels eyes bulged, “you- you have?” You just gave him a shy nod in response. “In the name of honesty,” he breathed out a laugh. He couldn’t believe you loved him just as long as he did you. “I’ve loved you since that very day as well,” he confessed.

You giggled, “we’ve both been rather foolish, haven’t we?”

“Yes, my love, I’m afraid we have,” he giggled with you. Azriel wasn’t planning on wasting one more second. He removed one hand from yours, taking it to place back on your cheek. His thumb softly stroked the skin there. He leaned down, hovering just above your lips. “I love you, Y/N,” he breathed out.

“I love you, Az,” you whispered back just before he closed the distance. Finally, after years of waiting, he sealed your lips with a kiss. He had won your heart just as you had won his.

—

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for a little while now so I'm very happy I finally got around to writing it! You are all so amazing, I really appreciate all of your support 🥰❤️

[writeriguess]

I have kind of a hyper specific request if that's okay!

Prohero!Reader x prohero!Bakugo where they dated for a bit in hs and she had super long wavy hair, and they broke up like a year or 2 into being pros because she wanted him to be able to focus on his career. The breakup really fucks him up so he just throws himself into working his ass off and rising the ranks not because he has the time to focus on it now, but because it kept his mind off of her. Aside from the occasional collab mission with their agencies, they havent seen each other.

Years later at the reunion, Bakugo and reader meet again, reader cut her hair short and it's just a really bittersweet reunion, both of them changed so much but the love is still very much there. Afterwards, he insists on driving her home and then before going up to her apartment, she asks if he wants to come up and watch a movie or something. They like immediately end up having really passionate, loving sex, and then they talk about how they thought of each other all the time and confess they're still in love, then end up together again.

Ofc no pressure!! It's just been brain rotting in my noggin and I immediately thought of you because your writing is incredible <3

Love you sm ty for taking the time to read this! I hope you have fun and get lots of rest <333

Fading Echoes

You never thought that breaking up with him would hurt as much as it did. Then again, you never thought he'd bury himself in work the way he did, either. It felt like the more space you gave him to focus on his career, the more it pulled him away from everything else—everything that had once mattered to him. You had to go your separate ways, but it didn't mean it didn't tear you apart. You needed him to chase his dream. You couldn’t be the reason he faltered.

But the silence left behind felt like an ache that never fully went away.

When you first met Bakugo, his confidence was loud. Not just in his words but in everything about him. His every movement practically screamed that he was going to be someone, something important in the world. He didn’t need anyone to help him with that—certainly not you. But still, when he’d pull you close at the end of the day, hair still wild and face streaked with dirt from the most recent fight, you felt it. The way he would lean into you, his eyes soft, showing the side of him that only you got to see. The side of him that, even now, sits behind your eyelids, no matter how much time has passed.

You made sure he knew you loved him in every way possible. Every touch, every lingering glance, every shared quiet moment in between battles.

But your love for him wasn’t enough to make him see that his passion for being the best pro hero would take him away. You were there, his teammate, but you weren’t what he needed to be great. And you couldn’t let him slow down, not for you.

So, you broke things off.

He didn't take it well, even though he never said anything, not to you or anyone else. His pride wouldn't let him speak about it, so he threw himself into his work instead. He worked like a machine. No breaks. Just rising, ranking, moving up. Until it felt like it was the only thing that filled the empty space.

Every time you saw his face on a news report or heard his name on the radio, you felt it, the painful reminder of the relationship you tried to hold onto while doing what you thought was best.

But it wasn’t just his achievements that caught your attention. There were the little things—like the way his eyes would dart to your agency’s reports in every collaboration mission. How even when you were both surrounded by your teams, there was always that odd pull, a space between you two that no amount of work could fill. You weren't meant to be in each other's lives anymore, not like that. But somehow, you kept finding yourself searching for his gaze among the crowded halls, watching for his reactions in press conferences, hoping for a glimpse of that spark that had been there before.

But it never came.

You focused on your own career, pushing through the same hustle he did, moving up through the ranks and doing your part in the chaos that was the world of pro heroes. You had your missions, your team, your responsibilities. You couldn’t let his absence swallow you whole, no matter how much you wished you could see him again. Not for closure, not for old times' sake—but just to know that he was okay.

You wish you could tell him that, but what good would it do? He’s moved on. Just like you were supposed to. The silence between you both stretches out endlessly, neither of you willing to break it. And yet, the memory of him lingers in your chest, heavy as stone, constantly weighing you down.

It’s strange—how something so small, a decision that once seemed so clear and right, can ripple out into the world with so much weight, so much force. And now, all that’s left is the sound of silence, filling up the space between you both.

It had been years. Too many years to count on one hand. And yet, when you walked into the reunion, it felt like time slowed down—like everything, even the bustling chatter of old classmates and the clinking of glasses, paused when his eyes locked onto you.

Bakugo had changed. His hair was a bit shorter, his jawline more defined with age, but there was still the same fiery intensity in his gaze. The one that once used to soften when it met yours, now hidden beneath the polished exterior of a pro hero who had seen and conquered so much. And you... you had changed, too. Shorter hair, a clean, crisp bob that framed your face differently, and the same resolute look in your eyes. You were no longer the girl who was afraid of letting go of him. You were stronger. Still, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder—did he still see you the same way?

His eyes lingered on you for just a beat too long, and for the first time in a long while, you felt that familiar tug in your chest. Something between you two had never really faded, no matter how far apart you’d drifted. The love, the history... it was all still there, buried beneath the surface. Neither of you had moved on fully.

You both tried to act cool, pretending you didn’t feel that magnetic pull. Small talk ensued, polite and distant, but there was an undeniable heaviness between you both. It was like stepping into a room that was filled with things you were too scared to touch, too scared to face.

At the end of the night, when everyone else was leaving, Bakugo lingered by the door. He looked at you, his voice low but steady, a little more vulnerable than usual. “Need a ride home?” he asked, like it was nothing. But it wasn’t.

You swallowed, nodding, your heart beating faster than it had in years. "Yeah. I’d appreciate it."

The ride to your apartment was quiet, the air thick with unspoken words. Neither of you seemed to know how to break the tension, but there it was, unavoidable.

When he pulled up to your building, you both lingered for a moment, unsure of the next step. You hesitated, then looked over at him, searching his expression for some hint of what to say next.

"Hey," you murmured, voice shaky despite your best efforts to stay composed. "Do you... want to come up for a bit? Watch a movie or something?"

He didn’t respond immediately, but the look in his eyes softened, and without saying a word, he nodded. Something unspoken passed between you two in that moment—a mutual understanding that things were about to shift, and there was no going back.

Once inside your apartment, you didn’t even make it to the couch. The years of silence, the quiet longing that both of you had buried deep down, surged to the surface like a tidal wave. It started slow—an innocent brush of hands, a glance that held too much meaning, and before you knew it, he was kissing you, fierce and needy. His hands gripped you with urgency, as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

You felt it all—his warmth, his desperation, the love he still had for you, pulsing through every touch, every kiss. You let go of everything in that moment—every bit of guilt, every hesitation—and just let yourself be consumed by him. By the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

Clothes hit the floor, discarded carelessly as you both tumbled into your bed, lost in each other. The passion, the love, the fire—it was all there, just as it had been when you were younger, only deeper, more intense. There was no time for hesitation now. No more barriers. No more fear. Just you, him, and the moment you’d both been waiting for.

Afterwards, as you lay beside him, your breaths still shaky, Bakugo’s voice broke the silence. "I thought about you... every fucking day," he admitted, his voice rough, but full of that familiar vulnerability. "I tried to move on, tried to tell myself it was better this way, but I was lying. I’m still... I’m still in love with you."

You turned toward him, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. "Me too," you whispered, the words feeling heavier than you expected. "I never stopped loving you. Not for a second."

Bakugo’s expression softened as he pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I’m sorry," he murmured. "I should’ve fought harder for us."

You shook your head, gently cupping his face. "We were both so focused on our careers. We didn’t have time for anything else. But we’re here now. And that’s what matters."

His eyes searched yours, and for the first time in a long while, you both smiled. It wasn’t just the relief of physical need—it was something deeper, something far more real. You weren’t just two pro heroes anymore. You were two people, rediscovering each other, reclaiming what had been lost.

And this time, when he kissed you again, it wasn’t filled with the urgency of past regrets. It was filled with hope, with the promise of a future together. A future where you didn’t have to choose between him and your career. A future where you could have both.

The past was behind you. The silence had broken. And the love that had always been there... was finally ready to grow again.

[bronzealchemy]

it wasn’t the first time you had a nightmare. after josephine and caleb died, they were your constant companion. when zayne asked you over before his shift ended, so you could wait at his apartment, you gladly took the opportunity, watching a movie in the embrace of his scent, cuddling up in one of his dress shirts. you waited. and waited. since he didn’t text you, you thought that maybe an emergency operation came up. then, on your second movie, you fell asleep. the nightmares followed shortly after.

when zayne came back home, it didn’t take long for him to hear you tossing and turning on the couch. he wondered what you were doing, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly at the thought of you pulling one of your pranks. but then he heard it: a slight whimper, followed by a cry. he rushed to you, his icy demeanor melting away as soon as he heard your sobs.

„hey. hey“, he murmured, putting a hand on your arm, trying to wake you. you startled awake, a horrified look on your face, your eyes shimmering with tears. „it’s okay. I’m here“, he said, pulling you close.

„I saw them again, zayne. dying before my own eyes, without being able to do anything“, you uttered between sharp inhales. „I can’t breathe.“

zayne laid his arms around you with just the right amount of pressure. „slowly. you can do it.“

you tried, failing a few attempts, but then focussing on his breaths, mimicking them. since their deaths, zayne was always doing this. bringing you back down when the pain of the past was tearing you apart. the rise and fall of his chest was the only thing you laid your focus on.

„it will be okay“, he said with his typical confidence. as if being okay was a simple fact, a diagnosis without any objection. that almost made you believe him.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Big Brother's Wedding – Glen Powell

The second I left my room, I heard voices coming from the front room. I descended the beach house stairs, recognizing the voice of my brother's childhood best friend.

"Do my ears deceive me," I started to taunt him before they could see me, "or is that the best Tornado Wrangler this side of the Mississippi?"

"Ha ha," Glen faked laughed. I rounded the corner, instantly seeing his Hollywood smile. "My dear sweet Y/N."

He laughed for real as he wrapped his arms around me. "It's good to see you, Y/N."

"It's good to see you too, Glen," I whispered. We broke the hug and I could feel my face burning. "I'm kinda surprised, Powell."

"By what?" He smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"By the fact that you actually took time away from being Netflix's Heartthrob to come to your childhood best friend's wedding."

"Are you kidding?" He chuckled as he put my brother in a playful headlock. "I wasn't going to miss this dweeb's wedding. Who else is gonna tell his girl that she's too good for him?"

"Who else is gonna tell me that I'm the only adult among the three of us?" I rolled my eyes and headed to the kitchen as they started to fight the way they did as teenage idiots.

I grabbed three beers from the fridge and opened them. Once I opened the last one, the two idiots jogged into the kitchen. They laughed as I handed them each a beer.

"Thanks, Y/N," Glen smiled as he took it. I nodded before taking a drink of my beer.

"Your room is going to be upstairs," my brother started to explain. "It's the room between mine and Y/N's."

"Should I be worried about the bride-to-be sneaking in?" Glen smirked.

"Shannon and her family are in the beach house next door," I chuckled. "and her parents are very traditional. The soon-to-be-married couple can see each other during the day, but no sneaking off in the night."

Without warning, my brother ran out of the house. "What the hell was that?" Glen chuckled. I pointed outside, making Glen follow my finger to my brother running toward a girl and picking her up, spinning her around.

"Gotcha," he laughed. "Our boy's really in love, huh?"

"Oh yeah," I elongated. "I've never seen him like this, Glen. He's really in love."

"That's great," he smiled. I watched as his smile slowly fell.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he cleared his throat. "I was just. . . Do you ever wonder if it's gonna happen for you?"

"What?"

"Falling in love."

The silence came suddenly and it was thick. I let it settle before trying to lighten the tension. "You fall in love on almost every movie set," I teased.

"True," he sighed, "but it's not real. I want something real. Something. . . timeless. I want to find a girl that I'm crazy for. A girl who if I go even a day without talking to her, it's too long. A girl who I want to be with every minute of every day. A girl who, when friends look at me, they say that I am whipped. A girl that I would happily leave my boys for. A girl who is the most important person in the world to me. I just want to find my person, my girl."

"You will," I said, my voice soft. "Someday you will find a girl who will be as crazy about you as you are about her."

"And someday you'll find a guy worthy of you," Glen smiled. I watched as his smile turned slightly dark. "And if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."

* * * * *

We spent the next couple of days hanging out, drinking, and acting like stupid kids again. It was great. I've missed this.

After playing the version of football that Glen learned for Top Gun: Maverick, I collapsed onto my lounge chair under the umbrella. I drank some water before relaxing into my seat.

"You good?"

I opened my eyes and instantly shielded them from the sun. I ignored the embarrassment flooding me when I saw Glen standing in front of me. Very shirtless and very sweaty.

"Yeah," I chuckled, trying to relax. "Just needed a breather. The game's a lot more intense than I thought it would be."

"I know," he laughed as he sat on the chair next to me. "The day after we filmed the scene, we were all so sore. They had to give us a day off so we could feel our bodies again."

"Rumor was that you got hurt filming that scene," I said, my voice slightly softening.

"There were worse scenes," he shrugged off as he turned back to our friends. I let the silence settle between us for a few seconds before I had to tell him.

"I've missed you, Glen," I sighed, my eyes on my brother and his friends.

"I've missed you too, Y/N," he said, looking at me, but I didn't return the glance. 

"I hope you know," I said, slowly turning toward him, "Matt's really missed you. As soon as he got engaged, he kept talking about planning the wedding in between your projects. He wanted to make sure you could make it."

"I would've made it," he winked. "No matter what."

"Okay!" Matt yelled as he walked over. "Let's go!"

"Go where?" I laughed, sending a look toward Glen. 

"Sailing, duh!"

My head snapped toward my brother. "You. . . You can't be serious," I stuttered.

"It's gonna be great!"

"Matt, are you sure that's a good idea?" Glen asked, glancing at me, his eyes soft. 

"Y/N," my brother said softly, "you'll be fine. I checked the weather. No storms. Nothing we can't handle. Plus, the boat has a railing." He patted my shoulder before leaving.

I looked out at the ocean, my mind going back to that horrible sailing trip, my brother, Glen, and I took back in high school. I fell overboard and almost drowned.

"You going to be okay?" Glen asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I said, my voice slightly breaking. I looked over to see Glen studying me.

"Y/N," he whispered as he reached over and grabbed my hand. I quickly pulled my hand back and stood up. I started gathering my things, not looking at Glen.

"I'll be fine."

* * * * *

As we left the dock, my hand gripped the railing tightly. I could feel Glen's eyes on me, but I couldn't look at him. I gasped when the boat went over a wave. I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep, calming breath. I opened my eyes when I felt someone gently grab my hand.

"It's okay," Glen whispered as he sat next to me. "We are perfectly safe."

"I know," I said shakily. I looked up at him and let out a small chuckle. "I begged my brother to do anything else for this outing."

My heart skipped a beat when he scooted a little closer to me.

"I begged him to choose something else, too," he nodded. I studied him, trying to see if he was being honest with me.

"Did you really?"

"Of course," he said, his eyes softening. "I even brought up the time when we were in high school and went sailing."

"I begged my brother to go back to the dock but . . ."

"He ignored you," Glen finished. "I turned to him to tell him that it was probably the right idea. You screamed and when I turned around, you were gone. You had fallen overboard."

"You dove in and saved me."

"I couldn't let you drown," he said, his voice lowering.

I gasped when we went over another wave and landed hard. I instantly tucked into Glen's chest and he quickly wrapped his arms around me. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down.

"I'll be right back," he said, anger building as he stood up.

"Wait!" I grabbed his wrist before he could walk away. Embarrassment flooded me as I added, "Where are you going?"

He smiled as he knelt in front of me. "I'm going to go talk to your brother. This was a stupid idea and all he's doing is torturing you. I've had enough."

I wrapped my arms around myself as Glen went over and got in my brother's face. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but my brother looked at me over Glen's shoulder. I sent him a weak smile even though I was shaking.

My brother said something to Glen before turning back to the steering wheel. Glen patted his back before returning to me. He sat next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Matt is taking us back to the dock."

"Thank you," I said, my voice breaking.

"Just focus on the dock getting closer," he tried to comfort me. With his free hand, he grabbed one of mine. We sat like that the entire ride back to the dock. The second we got back, I was the first one off the boat.

I didn't focus on what everyone else was doing. I needed to get back to the beach house before my panic attack bubbled up. As I unlocked the front door, I finally turned around. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw Glen getting in Matt's face. It was clear that Glen was angry while my brother was surprised.

I shook off any curiosity I had and went up to my room. I got in the shower and allowed the hot water to wash any anxiety away. Once I was sure I had successfully stopped my attack, I got out of the shower and pulled on my pajamas. 

Everyone was already asleep when I went downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. I was just pouring it into a cup when someone else came downstairs.

"How you feeling?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Glen walking in. "I know that boats kind of trigger you and when you're triggered, you end up having a panic attack. I'm hoping I stopped it in time."

"You did," I said, a little too quickly. I cleared my throat before looking back at my hands wrapped around my tea.

"Good," he chuckled. He walked over and poured himself a cup of tea before sitting next to me. We drank in silence for a while, neither one of us breaking it. Glen eventually did.

"You ready for the wedding tomorrow?"

"I guess," I mumbled. I looked over when I felt his eyes on me.

"You guess?"

"I just mean," I stuttered, "I'm really happy for my brother and future sister-in-law."

"Then what is it?"

I hesitated. "It's the fact that, no matter how happy I am for my brother, it's not easy to sit back and watch your sibling get married while you haven't even had a long-term boyfriend."

"I get that," he nodded. "It's not easy sitting back and watching your best friend get married while you haven't even had a long-term girlfriend."

We started at each other, the tension getting thicker by the minute.

"Well," he said softly, "at least we won't be the only single people tomorrow. We'll have each other."

Part 2

[callme-holly]

Hi!! Could you do a Dallas x reader who has a small dog? Headcanoans or an imagine, which ever you prefer. Just something cute about how he'd be with the reader's dog. Thank you! I love your work 💕

𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 [𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

a/n: y'all i actually love this i need more dally with a dog content

The living room was silent, save for the din of the movie playing on the TV, some romantic comedy you’d picked out and put on without Dallas’ input. He wasn’t really paying attention to the flickering black and white images on the screen, not even caring when you sighed dreamily at some of the more soppy bits. No; he was much more focused on the little mutt sitting at his feet, gazing up at him with big, dark eyes, practically begging for attention.

He’d tried so hard to ignore the whimpering, to maintain his eye rolls every time you cooed at the little dog, subtly kicking it away every time it scrabbled at his leg. 

He knew you loved the thing to bits, maybe more than you loved him, but he couldn’t help but feel an unfiltered resentment towards the dog. It was small, yappy, and his opinion so far from being a real dog that it was practically insane to cast them as the same species. Of course, he’d never said as much to you, opting to (for once) keep his mouth shut, only letting the thoughts run rampant in his mind. Dogs were supposed to be big, strong, and able to protect you if you needed it…

The dog gave another pitiful whine, pawing at his denim-clad leg once more before jumping up onto the couch and settling on his lap, front paws resting on him. He wrinkled up his nose, pushing at it slightly, refusing to give in to the soft eyes and the way it was looking up at him helplessly, begging for his love.

“Get off…” he grunted, not wanting to disturb you from the movie. The dog yapped and you lifted your head from Dallas’ shoulder, your expression softening immediately as you scratched behind the creature's ears.

“Oh, poor baby…” You mumbled amorously, smoothing the pup’s scruffy fur. “Is he not giving you any love? Hmm?” 

Dallas scoffed, trying to shoo the dog   once more, only earning a quick lick to the hand in reward. “Stop.” He snapped and you nudged him lightly, fixing him with a stern look.

“Be nice.” The seriousness in your tone made him freeze, and the protective gleam in your eyes was enough to make him drop his hand back around your shoulders. The dog gave a little, contented huff, settling on his lap, much to his dismay.

“Doll…” He began, gaze flickering from you to the dog, and you shook your head.

“No, Dal. He isn’t doing anything wrong! He just wants attention.” 

Dallas looked down at the pup once more, raising a brow when he caught it already looking at him; the moment it saw him watching, it’s tail began to wag lazily, brushing against the fabric of the couch with a soft swoosh. 

He exhaled heavily, tensing for a few seconds before running a hand over the dog’s head; he was a little rough, not wanting to give entirely into the thing, but once it nudged his hand, he couldn’t help but scratch it’s ears just as you had done moments before.

“There you go…” You praised lightly, almost as you would a child for petting an animal nicely. The tone made him frown, and you laughed lightly.

“He likes you…” You whisper, pressing a fleeting, feather-light kiss to his cheek before turning back to the movie. Dallas only hums in response, glancing down at the dog who now looks perfectly content, it’s tail still moving and its eyes shut tight.

“Why’d you like him so much?” He asked after a few moments of silence; you huffed and he felt slightly satisfied for dragging you away from the movie when you were quite clearly invested in the leading guy. 

“He’s my dog, Dally. I have to like him.” The way you said it was filled with fondness, and he could see the pure adoration in your eyes as you glanced down at the puppy.

“But he’s little…”

“So?”

Dallas groaned, tipping his head back. Why weren’t you getting it? What was so difficult for you to grasp and understand? “Dogs are s’posed to be big. Y’know… Tough.”

The look you gave him almost made him feel stupid, and he looked away for a moment, hating the judgement in your gaze. Tension hung in the air for a few moments before it was cut through by your laughter. “Oh god. You’re one of those guys.”

“What guys?”

“The ones who think the only dogs are the ones that are built like horses.” You reached down to pet your dog, marvelling in the happy little pant you got in response. “Dogs can be little, you know?” 

Dallas shrugged. “Yeah. But it ain’t a real dog. I had a dog in New York. She was the toughest thing around.”

"Oh please... This little guy can be tough." You argued and Dallas nodded slowly.

"Sure. I'll believe it when I see it."

The dog, as if sensing he was part of the conversation, rolled over onto his back, looking between them with bright eyes, his tail still wagging. Yeah... He had a lot of proving to do. 

[thatguywrites]

Vienna

Max Verstappen x Male!Reader

When Max is overworking himself to the bone in the preseason, and you need to talk some sense into him before he burns out

A/N I'm back after my one week break! I'm gonna try and write more fics to create a WIP list so that that doesn't happen, but I also encourage people to send in asks cause I'm gonna run out of ideas at some point :)

In the bustle of the preseason chaos, you hadn't had much time to spend with your lovely boyfriend. Between the incredibly boring F175, and testing instantly starting in the week following, Max was too busy running around, working out, taking calls, and providing feedback. It seemed the only times you saw him anymore were in the mornings and late at night, when he would slip into bed with you, muttering thanks for the certainly cold dinner you had left him, before he collapsing into sleep.

Finally, one day you managed to have him to yourself for a whole evening, as soon as his morning workouts were done, you would be able to push him into bed for some snacks, and movies, and boyfriend time. But, when Max arrived home, he was clearly still in work mode. Flurrying around the house, taking notes of things about the car that he hadn't told the engineers the day before, before hopping into the sim to do lap after lap in the model car Redbull had sent him.

Your kinder bars, fruits, and Netflix left untouched, you waited on the couch for him to finish. Maybe he just wanted to figure something out. Everyone gets like that; when something nags at them and they just need to get it right. He would be done by dinner.

By the time dinner came, you'd lost hope that he would come to bed naturally. It began to seem that you would have to do something yourself to get Max to eat with you and to finally relax. Walking over to his rig, you placed a kiss on his cheek, pulling his headphones back, "I'll be on the balcony, ok?"

Without looking away from the screen, he nodded, before shooing you away.

Once on the balcony, sitting down, you finally felt at rest. For a break moment you didn't have to worry about Max, or how he was working himself to the bone and you by extension. It was you, and the cool air of Monaco.

You got lost in your thoughts, but it could have been two or twenty minutes before you heard the door behind you open, and Max sit next to you, placing a blanket around your shoulders.

"You looked cold, in just a T-shirt" He said, softly. You noticed you could see his breath. Maybe it was cold.

"Didn't notice"

"Why out so long?"

Your own puff of breath appeared infront if you as you leaned back against your apartment, looking up at the now visable stars. "Thinking. Why were you on your sim so long? Isn't today supposed to be your day off?"

Max looked down, maybe ashamed. A small part of you felt good about that. That he felt bad about hurting you. But the rest of you just wanted to scoop him into a hug and never let go.

"I mean, last year's car worried me. And Lando's improved, and I'm sure Oscar'll be up there too this year, so I'm doing my best now to make sure we end up with the best car." You could feel his eyes on you, a nervous energy in your previous safe space, his warm hands wrapping around your cold ones, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for worrying you, and ignoring you. I'm sorry that I haven't been prioritizing us at all. I'm sorry that I spent my entire afternoon off working." He pulled you into his arms, resting his head on yours, and pressing kisses atop your hair.

"I didn't want to push you, I know your work is important to you. I don't want to act as if I'm above racing to you, I know it's your life, but I want to be a part of your life too." At your words Max jolted away, eyes wide, with a small pout on his lips.

"No! No, no, no, racing is a huge part of my life, sure, but so are you. I'm sorry I haven't made that clear, I love you. I just worry that I'm not trying hard enough for the world sometimes, that I'll fall behind on track because of it", He trailed off, looking down into the busy streets

"Well, I'm sure the fastest man on Earth, who works harder than anyone else I've ever seen will manage to pose a threat, even if he takes a break for one night, no?"

Breaking out into a smile, Max responded, "Yeah"

Taglist (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl @spoonfulofmilo @lokisen

[yanderedrabbles]

What's the worst thing Yan Military Contractor has ever done to the reader?

Yandere! Military Contractor

The very worst? Now that's tough competition. He's fucked you raw so many times that afterwards you can only curl up and whimper, legs aching so bad you can't stand. He's bitten you so hard that he's left a scar of his teeth on your thigh. He's bent your arm so very far up your back that on bad days your shoulder still aches. He's done anal without any prep or lube.

But the very worst? That happened on the day you almost escaped.

He likes to humour you. Likes letting you try and get away, just to drag you back at the last second. Likes the way you fight so much harder when freedom is so very close. But he never once entertained the thought of you actually succeeding.

You're too damn clever sometimes. Too smart for your own good.

You planned your escape carefully this time. Waited for a rainy day when he'd have trouble hearing your footsteps and seeing your tracks. Managed to make a mess in his armory and get out of a second story window when he was distracted counting his guns. And then you ran.

You saw a tree out on your forced walks once. Thick oak with branches that just about reached over the fence. It would be a hard fall, but if you managed to not snap an ankle you'd be home free.

He almost found you. You were up in the branches, rain pelting you in thick sheets when he walked right under you. It was pure luck that you noticed him in time. Even without the noise of the rain to cover his footsteps, he was dead silent.

He looked pissed. But that wasn't what made your heart drop.

He had his gun with him. Not one of the rifles or shotguns. That might have almost been better. Those guns felt unreal, felt like something out of a movie. No, he was carrying his chrome .50 calibre Desert Eagle.

You hated that gun. It was the one he carried on him almost all the time, the one he had the day he took you. Huge, mean looking thing. 'One of the nastiest shots you'll ever see,' he told you once.

It was scratched with years of use. A soldier's gun. A killer's gun.

You fingers went numb on the branch before you had the courage to keep moving. You dropped down on the other side of the electric fence, landing bad. You smacked a hand over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

Staggered to your feet, holding onto the trees to take the pressure off your stinging ankles. You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

You were free. Actually, finally free. You half didn't believe it until you reached the end of the trees and open farm land stretched in front of you. The rain was so much worse without the trees to protect you, but you didn't care. An empty field of wheat had never looked so damn good.

"On your knees."

You froze. No. No.

"I said, get on your fucking knees!"

You sat so fast that you felt lightheaded.

He came to stand in front of you, blocked your view of the open land and your last chance to escape. He was scowling, hand gripping his gun so tight that veins were standing out on his forearm.

The rain was sheeting down around you, running past the grooves and catches of his pistol. You couldn't see his face through the rain, but you could feel his eyes. Raking down your body, burning.

He pointed the gun at you, cocked it. The metallic sound of it somehow the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

"Open your mouth."

"I'm sorry! Please just-"

"Open. Your. Mouth."

You did. He forced the barrel passed your lips, all the way to the back of your throat. Your teeth scraped the metal.

It tasted bitter. Iron, gunpowder. It tasted like your death.

His finger was on the trigger. One little twitch, one inopportune gag, and you were done.

"Suck it."

You did, crying so damn hard but terrified to make a sound.

"No," he snarled. "Suck it like you would a cock."

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back. "Show me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. Remind me exactly why I keep you around."

You sucked his gun like your life depended on it. Tongue out, drooling, like you weren't a hairs breadth from death. Looked up at him with rain and tears pouring down your face.

You must have given him one hell of a show. When you couldn't take it anymore, when you were shaking from the cold and your lips were turning blue around the metal, that's when he pulled out. One hand still in your hair, he pointed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed over the trees.

Fuck. You really did just have a loaded gun in your mouth.

He holstered it, grabbed your jaw with the hand that just held your death.

"Never again. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[bennyboyfics]

I know i requested something similar with reader loving bens arms but could you do something in reverse with ben always touching reader (i was thinking ass) but you can do whatever you are comfortable with.

Love yooooou ❤️

Hands on || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

A/n: hehehe I loved writing this

Wc: 895

Warnings: touchyyyy

MASTERLIST

-

Ben is obsessed with your body. More specifically, the contrast between you and him—how much smaller you are, how easily you fit against him, how his hands wrap around your waist like they were made for it. It’s something you notice early on, how often his hands find their way to your waist, gripping, squeezing, sometimes just resting there as if to remind himself that you’re his.

It doesn’t matter if you’re alone or in public—Ben has never been the type to keep his affection subtle. “Goddamn,” he mutters under his breath when you walk past him in a pair of leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. His large hands catch your waist, pulling you back against his chest. “You know I can’t concentrate when you walk around lookin’ like this.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I thought you were watching a movie?” “I was. And then I got distracted.” He dips his head, his lips brushing against the back of your neck as his hands slide further down, palms pressing against the curve of your ass. His thumbs stroke over the fabric teasingly, his breath warm against your skin.

“Ben,” you warn, but you don’t move away. “What?” he grins, hands tightening for a quick squeeze before he lets you go. “Can’t help it. You know how I am.” Oh, you do. Because it’s not just when you’re at home. At dinner with his friends, he keeps his arm draped lazily around your chair, but his hand rests firmly on your hip, thumb grazing just beneath the hem of your dress.

When you shift in your seat, his grip tightens, a silent way of saying stay right there, baby. At the grocery store, you’re reaching for something on the top shelf when he comes up behind you, one hand landing on your ass as he stretches past you for the item instead. “Told you, you don’t gotta do all that reachin’ when I’m here,” he teases, squeezing once before dropping the item in the cart.

Even when you’re just walking together, his hands are always on you. One arm slung over your shoulder, palm warm and firm against your waist, sometimes slipping down just far enough to test the boundary of what’s appropriate in public. And if there’s a moment where he thinks no one’s looking? You feel the quick, possessive grab that makes you glare at him while he just smirks.

“You’re shameless.” “‘Course I am,” he says, leaning down to murmur in your ear, voice thick with affection. “But only for you, baby.”

-

Ben’s hands are all over you. It’s not surprising, but it’s definitely not ideal given that you’re standing in the middle of a tournament venue, surrounded by cameras and reporters. You’re supposed to be supporting him, looking like the composed, doting girlfriend while he warms up for his match. Instead, you’re trying to pry his massive hands off your ass.

“Ben,” you hiss under your breath, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. “What?” he murmurs, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he tugs you closer. His large hands spread across your waist, fingers sinking into the soft curve of your hips before they slide down, resting right where they shouldn’t be. “Missed you, that’s all.”

“You saw me this morning,” you remind him, trying to keep your expression neutral because you can feel at least three cameras pointed in your direction. “Yeah, but I wasn’t allowed to do this,” he hums, squeezing shamelessly. You suck in a sharp breath and glance around, hoping no one’s caught on to what he’s doing. “Baby, T here’s cameras everywhere,” you whisper, trying to sound firm even as warmth spreads up your neck.

“So?” He grins, looking completely unbothered. “Let ‘em take pictures. Maybe they’ll finally get my best angle.” You shove at his chest, but it’s like trying to move a brick wall. “Your best angle is on the court, not getting caught groping me in public.” Ben chuckles, low and amused, but he finally (reluctantly) lets his hands slide back up to your waist. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave,” he says, even though you don’t believe him for a second.

And you’re right. Because later, when he’s walking off the court after securing a win, drenched in sweat and riding the high of victory, he spots you waiting in the players’ box. He doesn’t even think twice before reaching for you, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you in for a tight hug—except his hands immediately find their way to your ass again, gripping like it’s instinct.

“Ben,” you gasp, but he just grins against your temple, utterly shameless. “You know I can’t help it, baby.”

[forsaken-headcanons]

Hey hey,, :] more-so not a headcanon as much as id interpret it as such. Matt can recall Guest 1337s last face being a face of pure terror and horror as he stared at his best friend bleeding out, so whenever he thinks about Guest before reuniting with him his heart always drops.

Likewise, Guest 1337 only saw the small frown the other had as Matt tried to comfort Guest that he'd be okay while he could feel the bullet inside his. Chest ?? Leg ?? Idk the movie doesnt give me shit to work with..shrugs. Haha anyways!! Guest 1337 can only see the struggle of Matts feelings, if he can even recall what he looks like.

I like to imagine how they reunited too was more-so Matt appearing in the middle of a round because 007n7 had teleported somewhere outside of the round and it needed a quick replacement to not mess with the survivors heads. Little did they know, it'd mess with one . One soldier, specifically! While Guest 1337 was (very gently) hitting c00lkidd to stun him he caught a glimpse of another uniform similar to his, wanting to know who that person was he immediately charged over and as soon as he caught their eye his heart would drop to the floor . You could probably hear Guest shouting his name from across a mile away, hell even 007n7 could fucking hear it .

guest 1337 did cry. they both did. neither talks about it unless with eachother

Sigh. My gays. Kills them with ten thousand bricks

- Food for thought.

BUILDIEE!! BUILDDIEEE!!!!! HIIIII haha i did it again HAH!!! NOTHING U CNA DO ABT IT!! HAH!!

They make me sick.

Of course you did it again.

[priintaniere]

"Sylvain Gautier and Dorothea Arnault stun on the red carpet for the #FromFaerghusWithLove screening at 75th Enbarr film festival"

or simply, an actor/bodyguard AU

more notes on this AU under the read more

※ please do not repost my art ※   ➜ commission and ko-fi links in bio

this AU really started as just me toying with the idea of actor sylvain with his protective bodyguard felix then wanting to put dorothea and sylvain in fancy clothes but the more i thought about it, the more ideas i had dshhjs

SO expending this with more characters cuz it's fun!

sylvain: actor, model, former child actor dorothea: actress, model, singer, former opera singer lorenz: stage actor claude: writes stage plays for lorenz in his free time ferdinand: stage actor, making his debut in cinema annette: pop singer hilda: pop singer, model yuri: model, singer, former boys band member bernadetta: successful romance writer, debuting as a script writer encouraged and helped by sylvain

dorothea and sylvain have played romantic partners in many movies together and have very good chemistry on camera and during interviews, leading to lot of speculations of them dating

sylvain has the reputation of dating all his co-stars

felix started to wear a mask bc he saw that he was nicknamed "sylvain gautier's hot bodyguard" online and he hated it but now people only finds him hotter and more mysterious with the mask

OF COURSE there are rumors that sylvain and dorothea are dating or at least, have smth romantic (or sexual…??? 👀) going on with their bodyguards (literally the whole point of the au)

ferdinand, sylvain, lorenz and claude attended the same school (think, fodlan's equivalent of juilliard) and used to do stage plays together

ferdinand recently made his debut on screen while lorenz stayed in theater only because he prefers it here, claude's job is totally unrelated to acting or theater but he still writes and arranges stage plays for lorenz in his free time (mostly shakespearean plays)

sylvain has always liked theater and his parents encouraged and supported him when he was noticed by an agent at a very young age to be cast into a movie. he enjoyed it a lot at first but slowly lose his passion but stayed to please his parents (and there may have been parental pressure)

when he turned 19 and his contract was broken, he decided to quit acting to focus on his studies. he later returned 5 years after on his own terms

dorothea had a brief career as an opera singer but found out that she enjoyed doing musicals more

she debuted on screen with a musical and has slowly been branching out, first in romcoms or as the male lead's love interest in action movies but she has since taken more atypical roles for indie movies

felix, ingrid, sylvain are childhood friends, with ingrid initially being sylvain's bodyguard

ingrid became sylvain's bodyguard because she was worried about him and that way, she could always keep an eye on him

when dorothea rose to fame and was thinking of hiring a female bodyguard, sylvain recommended ingrid to her

ingrid then asked felix to replace her as sylvain's bodyguard

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!! Part 7

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove @liciafonseca

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 6

Joel couldn’t help his smile forming when he saw Sarah’s car parked in the garage.

His BabyGirl was home. He had missed her, missed having her around the house, missed having her snuggle to him as they watched movies together, missed having her steal bits of his breakfast as he ate his every morning, missed having her yell out ‘alarm!’ at his door every morning. She inherited Anita Miller’s early riser gene, that’s for sure. Weird thing was, she wasn’t an early riser when Laura was around. She was only one year old then, but the day after Laura passed, and every single day since, with the exception on days she was sick, her eyes opened the moment whatever the time it was to be the definition of a ridiculously early riser and then made it her business to wake Joel up with her, ranging from wailing her lungs out, jumping on his bed ‘til he gave up, to shouting ‘alarm!’ outside his door.

Ellie got a rude awakening the first morning after she moved in with them, that’s for sure.

Joel was never a late riser, but Sarah made him seem like one. As tired as he was all those years ago, a single dad, being the sole person responsible for the little girl’s needs, he had to abide by her body clock, and that meant waking up before the sun did, making her breakfast. Although, he would be lying if he said he would have it any other way. Those precious sleepy times in the mornings were what he missed the most when she left to go to college. Just the two of them, Joel doing her bidding, Sarah perched on the kitchen counter telling him what to do until she was old enough to cook for him instead.

The first time she did that, his Mama had just passed, and it was the first birthday he had without the breakfast spread she usually made him. So Sarah, standing on a small stool, cooked, at age eight, and Joel willingly ate the shell-filled scrambled eggs and burnt toast she made for him, his heart full, his eyes wet, her happy face seeing her Dad eat the breakfast she made for him making him think, at least for a moment, that he had done a good job raising her. She had since learnt that you don’t cook the shells with the eggs but always made sure to include some on his birthdays just to remind him of that first time. And he would eat the shell without fail, pretending to be annoyed with her for it every single time.

That morning Ellie trudged into the kitchen complaining that it would be the last day she could wake up at a respectable hour, since Sarah was due to arrive later that day. Bye-bye waking up at a reasonable hour, she had grumbled, despite the excitement of seeing her big sister again.

Joel laughed, plating his eggs and pouring Ellie her cereal. Hmmm… Ellie thought, he laughed, but there was something off about his laugh. He looked happy, excited, even, maybe he was looking forward to Sarah being home. She woke up to a text from her that she was already on her way and was due to arrive around 3pm. But as happy as Joel seemed to be, something was not quite right. Ellie tried and tried to figure out what it was, but for the life of her, she couldn’t.

Until Joel got an old 3-in-1 packet of coffee he got as a sample months ago out of the cupboard and made himself a cup of coffee. He looked full of thought as he stared at the mug in his hand, took a deep breath, a look of longing and dissatisfaction clearly on his face as he took his first sip.

Oh… she thought. He’s missing your coffee… or… to be more hopeful, you?

“You know, Joel, Sarah won’t be here for hours. We do have time to go to the rec centre if you want coffee. I know you like the coffee Lil makes,” she tried, not looking at him, pretending to be busy looking at her phone instead. This was a delicate task, she knew that. She must never let on that she knew he was crushing on you. That would just scare him and make him stay away from you.

Joel paused as he was taking a sip, looking as if he was contemplating the suggestion. He stood up from his leaning position on the counter, hand pressing down on it, his fingers accidentally brushing on the broken coffee machine. He immediately turned around towards it, staring at the machine for a few long seconds before telling her no.

Ellie didn’t say anything, despite the disappointment she felt. She knew what just happened. He saw the machine and was now reminded of his late wife. She and Sarah had a theory. He loved her so much and never wanted to fall for another, maybe he felt as if that was a betrayal to her memory. That must be why he refused to get rid of that machine. Uncle Tommy and Angela often reminded him she was gone, and Joel had always, always walked away every time they did that.

Sarah never dared say anything about this to Joel. She didn’t remember her Mom, and Joel never talked about her to help with that bit. Her Nana didn’t talk about her either, which was weird. Neither did Mrs Adler, the lady who looked after her when Joel was working. She remembered asking Joel about her one time, exactly one time when she was much younger, and Joel changed the subject. He was quiet after that, didn’t really look at her and was noticeably down for a few days. When she asked Uncle Tommy, Tommy told her that her Mom was the love of her Dad’s life, and losing her, talking about her, hurt him a lot. Tommy didn’t know much about her Mom, not knowing her that well. But Sarah made do with the few stories she could get from him and made up her mind not to trouble Joel with such questions again.

Joel busied himself getting the house ready for Sarah’s return. Washing her sheets, airing, dusting and vacuuming her room, the likes. He ordered lunch for himself and Ellie, eating in silence, before deciding to go out and stock his fridge and pantry with Sarah’s favourites. They were planning to drive out to the cabin in the mountains that he and Tommy bought a few years back the next day, so he needed to get provisions too.

He drove his truck in silence. No music, no nothing. He was excited Sarah was coming home, and nothing was going to spoil that for him. Not even the sight of the broken coffee machine that put to bed his excitement about getting a cup of good coffee from you. He wandered the aisles of the store alone, getting what he needed, the cart filling up to the brim in no time at all. He stopped at the coffee section, looking at the selection of fancy coffee he could get to satisfy his caffeine addiction for the week. His mornings would be filled with breakfasts and brunches with Sarah, Ellie and Tommy, all he had with them without the worry of work or schools or extra classes before Sarah started her internship the next Monday. He wouldn’t have time to go queueing up for coffee, not that there were any within a 30 minutes’ drive from the cabin anyway.

He asked the young man who was arranging some boxes of coffee on the shelves what he could get to replace good coffee without having to buy a machine for it – and the young man recommended a box of drip coffee for him to try. Just tear off the top of the packet, open and place it on a mug, pour in hot water and wait for it to finish dripping. The brand even came with a variety of strength. Joel got the strongest one they had and drove home.

He drove his truck home in silence again. Once the truck stopped, he realized that he had ended up at the rec centre parking lot. What? How’d that happen? He sat there, stupefied by what just happened. He laughed at himself for a bit, chastising his old mind for the habitual drive he had been making these past couple of weeks. Ellie wasn’t there, he didn’t need to pick her up. His brain just went there. It was a habitual thing. That was all. His mind went on autopilot and his body followed.

Although… now that he was here… he thought, glancing at the corner that would take him to your truck. He could, technically, just… go over and get a cup of coffee from you. That cup of sample coffee he had did nothing for him. Maybe he could just…? He reached for his gear knob, contemplating… it’s almost three in the evening. Was that too late to get coffee? He didn’t want to lay awake all night, like he did last night, which didn’t actually make sense since he only had one cup at your place. And it wasn’t even the extra strong six shot thing. It was just a regular cup of black coffee. Yet, he laid awake all night, unable to sleep, thankful that he could at least sleep in a little since Ellie wouldn’t be going to Frank’s class for the rest of the week.

It befuddled him. Why couldn’t he sleep? His mind went to the way you stood in your kitchen, dressed in a robe, making his cup of coffee for him. How your damp hair was up in a messy bun instead of the regular pony tail, your face completely devoid of the usual coloured lip balm you continuously refreshed throughout the day at the truck, how your fingers wrapped around the spoon like thing the coffee ground was in, working the simpler, but still complicated (to his mind, at least) machine you had in your small kitchen. He didn’t see you put anything extra in the mug, so he couldn’t find reason as to why he couldn’t sleep. He thought some more, looking for clues as to why this might be, and his mind wandered to the way your tongue stuck out a little as you steamed some milk for yourself, how your lips wrapped around the rim of the mug as you drank your coffee, how they scrunched up a little as you swallowed, your tongue licking the edges of them as you cleansed them off the frothy coffee that stuck to them…

So, no answer as to why he couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t going to risk a sleepless night tonight, not when he knew Sarah was going to wake him early the next day. So he’d better not get the coffee.

But he was here. His eyes remained glued to the corner. He didn’t really know why, but they were. His engine was still on, gear was on Drive, but his foot remained firmly on the brake pedal, eyes looking for something he couldn’t seem to identify. His heart skipped a beat as someone walked out, sitting up straight a little, straining his neck out to see who it was. He huffed a laugh at his own silliness when the person turned out to be some random lady walking out to her car, which he was now blocking.

His phone beeped. A text from Sarah. ‘Back home safe!’ she exclaimed, a selfie of her and Ellie in his garage accompanying the text. He took his foot off the brake pedal and drove out, excited to see his little girl.

“Food’s here!” Tommy’s muffled voice rang out as he walked in through the front door, the handles of a take-out bag in his mouth, his arms laden with more. Ellie and Sarah squealed, running towards him to get the bags off him, running with them back into the kitchen, where Joel was taking out plates from the cabinet.

“Sure, get the bags. Don’t hug your Uncle Tommy or anything!” Tommy yelled after them, Sarah coming back to let herself be squeezed to near death by her one and only uncle. Ellie received a hug and hair tussle from Tommy as he entered the kitchen, a hand slapping his brother’s shoulder, the other grabbing a beer from the fridge.

A very merry sushi and ramen dinner was followed by movie night, the four of them sprawled out in front of the TV, some movie about vampires or something playing. Joel didn’t care. All he could think about was his Sarah was right there, snuggling up to him, his Ellie on his other side, his brother Tommy laying on the love seat, his feet dangling off the edge. His family was here. So he watched the weird, vampire movie Sarah had picked, and watched the second one, where it had now mysteriously become a werewolf movie, and didn’t complain.

Tommy’s phone rang halfway through the second movie, and he slipped out back to answer it. Joel subconsciously got annoyed. Tommy had always done this. He would get a phone call or a text in the middle of family time, leave and then brag about his hook ups the day after, before trying to convince him to join in the next time. One time. Just one time, stay and finish the movies, Tommy. The girls were growing up, and they would leave the nest for good soon. Enjoy this while it lasted, Tommy, for God’s sake. Like it or not, they were the only family he had.

But then, Tommy didn’t leave. He was still outside, pacing the backyard in slow, steady steps, occasionally smoking and laughing, a smile evident on his face the whole time, even from where Joel was sitting. Okay, this was weird. Maybe he was just sweet talking whoever the poor young lady was on the other end of that call into meeting him after? But the second movie ended and he was still there, still talking, still laughing to whoever was at the other end. The girls got up and hugged him goodnight, Sarah being extra smoochy with him, telling him he’ll get his usual wakeup call the next morning. They went outside and hugged Tommy goodnight, the man finally hanging up, asking Joel if he’d join him outside for a beer.

“Hey, Joel, when you said you wanted to retire… was it just the privacy thing?”

Joel took a deep breath, took another sip of his beer, and nodded.

“That, and I guess… Let’s face it Tommy, we’re not getting any younger. I went to bed every night and every morning I wake up, I swear something on my body that functioned perfectly well the night before stopped working. I sneezed the other day and almost threw my back out.”

Tommy bellowed, spluttering beer everywhere.

“Also… this city… it’s just… noisy. The traffic. The smog. There are cameras everywhere… I just can’t see myself growing old here.”

“So where? If not here, where?”

Joel shrugged. “I don’t know. Somewhere quiet. Maybe I can raise sheep. I don’t know. Just, not here. Not in a city.”

“Somewhere like Nana’s and Pops’s?”

Their late Papa’s parents lived on a small farm. Tommy was only four when they died, but every Christmas ‘til then, they would travel up north and had a white Christmas. They were the best Christmases Joel could remember. His Pops and Papa would pull the two of them on a sled up a hill and they would sled down all day until Nana and Mama called them in to warm up with a cup of hot chocolate and marshmallows. Although why they were so worried, he didn’t know. He wasn’t cold. Tommy’s face and ears would be all pink and so were his, but they felt nice and warm, feeling so free and exhilarated from all the fun they had.

He wanted Sarah and Ellie’s children to remember spending Christmas with him like that. He wanted to teach his grandchildren how to chop wood, how to build things, wanted to let them play with animals, the way his Pops and Papa did with him. He wanted to make them hot chocolate with marshmallows and drink them by the wood fire. He wanted to have their stockings with their names on them hung above the fireplace, the way his and Tommy’s were at their grandparents’.

He hadn’t realized he had said all that thought out loud. His mind snapped back to the present with Tommy looking at him with warmth in his eyes.

“Don’t snap at me, brother, but… may I ask, if you were planning to have someone with you there? You know, to grow old with?”

Joel went quiet.

“Look, Joel, I get it. You loved Laura. But she’s gone, man, it’s been a long time. The girls are leaving soon. You’re really telling me you’re never going to find someone to share your life with?”

Joel took a really deep breath, “You know nothing about my life with Laura, Tommy.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to pry. Really, I’m not. You have all the rights in the world not to ever talk about Laura with me, but if you are gonna have that future you are thinking of having, are you really going to live it alone? That future sounds lovely, Joel, but doing that alone? I don’t know… it just sounds… lonely… sorry Joel…”

Joel shook his head, waving his beer at Tommy, telling him it was okay. A thought suddenly came to him. This was unlike Tommy. He was non-combative, for the first time ever, even when asking about the retirement. He looked at his brother intently, the younger man suddenly withdrawing into his seat, looking flustered.

“Why are you asking me about this, Tommy? Why the sudden interest in my retirement? I thought you were against it? You were, just last week. Why all these questions now?”

Tommy looked down at his beer bottle, his fingers suddenly busy peeling the label off it. Even in the dark, Joel could see his brother blush. His interest was peaked. He leaned forward.

“What are you not telling me, little brother?”

Tommy huffed a laugh, glee written all over his feature.

“I met someone,” he said simply, before smiling like some lovestruck idiot, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking from laughing at himself.

Joel thought for sure he imagining things. His little brother, Tommy, the one who had never had a steady girlfriend, the one who slept with a different woman every other week, was in love?

“You remember my high school buddy Jimmy?”

Joel nodded. The boy who gave Tommy a ride to school in his old Jeep.

“Well, I ran into him. He lives in Boston now but was here to celebrate his Mom’s birthday.”

Joel mulled over that information for a while, waiting for Tommy to finish speaking. But the man stopped. Joel had to take a shot, seeing as the man was not showing any interest in continuing his story, distracted by the label on the beer bottle again.

“Okay, so… you’re with him now?” he asked, cautiously.

“What? No! He was having lunch with his sister, you remember Maria?”

Oh yeah… he remembered her… but wait…

“Didn’t you hate her growing up? Called her a leech or something?”

Maria was always hanging around Jimmy. Being the surprise baby, the only girl in the family, born ten years after Jimmy and his brothers, she didn’t really have anyone her age to hang out with in the neighbourhood. Jimmy and Tommy hated having her around, leaving her in the dust on their BMXs while she pedalled her tricycle as fast as she could after them, to no avail. She would go running back crying to tell on them every time they did, a punishment for not letting her hang out with them always following. Soon, Maria became a nightmare for the boys Tommy’s age in the neighbourhood. Their parents, his own included, would actually pay her to spy on the boys. She was hard to shake off too, just like a leech. The fact that she was leeching money off their parents for doing that was just the final thump of the gavel on the nickname, as far as everyone’s concerned.

Tommy laughed, “Guess what she does for a living now?” he asked.

Joel shrugged, curiosity peaking.

“She’s an insurance investigator.”

Joel stared at his brother for a split second before throwing his head back and laughing so hard he almost toppled over. Tommy joined him, clutching at his tummy, laughing so hard their stomachs hurt.

It took them a while to calm down, but Joel finally asked his brother.

“So, you’re dating her now? For real?”

Tommy shook his head, “Just a drink or two last week. We’ve mostly been calling and texting. She’s out of town right now.”

“A drink or two, no breakfast the morning after?” Joel asked, disbelieving.

Tommy huffed, shaking his head, shyly glancing at his brother. Joel almost choked on the sip he was taking.

“You haven’t slept with her?”

Tommy scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head, a silly, goofy smile on his face.

Wow. Like, wow. Wow.

“Are you gonna make fun of me?” he asked, warily.

Joel didn’t know what to say. Wow.

“I really like her, Joel. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. She’s smart, sweet, funny, I can’t stop thinking about her,” Tommy laughed at himself, aware that this was not how he worked. Ever. “I think I’m in love, and I haven’t even kissed her yet,” he confessed, looking at his big brother, eyes pleading that Joel didn’t laugh at him for his vulnerability. “I don’t even know if she liked me like that, but when I think about this time next year, I see her there. I think about ten years from now, I see her there. When you were talking about a white Christmas like the ones we had with Pops and Nana, I see her there. I want that with her. Always. She travels a lot for work, and all I could think of is, I want to stop all this, sell everything, so I could be with her. Go where she needs to go.”

Joel looked at his brother, speechless, a smile on his face.

“That’s why I’m asking about you. I’m wondering if your decision to retire had something to do with a lady. Cause retirement is extremely enticing right now for me, and it is everything to do with Maria.”

Joel gave his brother a small laugh, shaking his head, before downing the rest of his beer.

For the first time in a long time, the two talked into the night without bickering.

Joel woke up the next morning to a brighter than usual room. It was almost eight. He shot up out of bed, going to the kitchen, finding Sarah and Ellie unpacking a bunch of food they had gotten.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Sarah cooed, giving her Dad a kiss. Ellie came and bumped his chest with her head, telling him they heard him and Tommy talking into the night, and therefore decided to give them both a break this morning. Tommy was still sleeping in the guestroom.

“We went to Lil’s truck to get you coffee but the line was long. We had already gotten the food, we didn’t want it to get cold,” Ellie said, looking apologetic.

“That’s okay kiddo, thanks for the thought,” he said, kissing the top of her head. He took the drip coffee he got the day before, and fiddled with the first packet, looking at the box for instructions, Sarah and Ellie fussing about to help him. The three of them somehow managed to figure it out, and Tommy walked out to find all three of them bent over, watching coffee drip out of the packet with bated breath. Once the mug was filled, Sarah took the packet off the mug and got rid of it, and she, Ellie and Tommy watched as Joel took the first sip, holding their breaths.

Their faces fell as Joel’s lips turned down a bit, his head wiggling side to side to tell them it was only okay, before taking another sip.

“Does Lil DoorDash? We could get it delivered?” Sarah asked. Ellie shook her head no.

“It’s okay, guys, this is fine. I’ll live,” Joel said, going to the island to eat.

“Who’s Lil?” Tommy asked.

“Lily, my boss at the coffee truck. She makes the best coffee. Joel loves them. We tried to get some this morning but the truck was busy.”

Tommy nodded, clearing his throat, “You know you could make good coffee yourself if you just buy…”

Joel’s eyes snapped up at his brother, shutting him up.

“Okay,” Tommy surrendered, eyes looking at the completely useless, ancient coffee machine sitting on the counter. “So, we leaving for the cabin today, or tomorrow?”

“Today,” Joel said, “We just need to get ice on the way,” he sipped on the coffee again. It’s good, really, it was. There’s just something missing. He needed to know what you put in your coffee. He had to find out. It must be the beans or something. He read that some people spray stuff on the coffee, some even mix in sugar or something or other, so that must be the missing link. He needed to figure it out. But for now, this drip coffee thing would have to do. Until Monday, this would have to do.

They piled everything they needed into his and Tommy’s trucks, Tommy telling them he needed to stop at his place to get something he forgot. He must have left them ready packed, it took him minutes to get it, placed it on the floor of his backseat and off they went. They arrived at the cabin just in time to set up and watch the sun go down as a family. They lazed by the fire that night, playing cards, roasting marshmallows and laughing at each other, with each other, just enjoying the time they had together.

Everyone generally woke up early when at the cabin, the sunrise was just too good to miss. Joel stayed at the spot later than everyone else, just wanting to enjoy the view a little longer. The quiet was too good to pass, in his opinion. So everyone went back to the cabin before him. He came back in to see Tommy and the girls standing in front of Tommy’s espresso maker, which apparently was the thing he went to pick up at his place. They placed the coffee – six shots of espressos – in front of Joel and waited for him to take a sip. Made from the finest beans, Tommy said, the beans were damned expensive too, he claimed.

Joel took a sip, and to the disappointment of the three, he made the same face he made with the drip coffee, thanking them for their effort. It’s good, he said, taking another sip before getting up to start breakfast.

Those few days were filled with just relaxing as a family, swimming in the lake, hiking, cooking, eating, just enjoying their time with each other. But every so often, Sarah and Ellie would watch as Joel sat alone looking out at the breathtaking view, wondering what he was thinking about. They had made the coffee for Joel in hopes that he would just perk up, seeing as he was so happy to get a good cup these two weeks. But that didn’t seem to work. He drank that coffee every morning they were at the cabin, seemingly satisfied with it, but according to Ellie, something was off.

Ellie didn’t get it. She watched you make coffee for Joel – there was nothing special about it. It was ground coffee, and hot water. That was it. That was what Tommy did, per her instruction. But his reaction to the coffee was nothing like the ones he had when he drank the coffee you made. Even Sarah seemed disappointed, and she had only seen his reaction once on that FaceTime on Monday. Sarah didn’t see anything different in Joel’s demeanour since her return, he was, as far as she was concerned, the same Dad she had always known, and to Tommy, he was the same old Joel. But Ellie saw a different Joel these past two weeks, and that Joel disappeared the day Sarah came back, although the other two couldn’t see the difference.

Sure, he seemed happy, or as happy as he could be before these past two weeks, but Ellie had seen how happy he could really get, and she wanted to see that happy man again. So did Sarah.

Tommy was curious, hearing Ellie talk about what a different man he was these past two weeks was like hearing about the boy he used to know as a kid. The boy who had disappeared and he hadn’t seen in forever. How happy. How smiley. How bouncy. How light. He begged the girls to show him the videos Sarah couldn’t stop referring to, but the girls didn’t want to show him, telling him there were other people involved in the videos, and they didn’t want to invade their privacies. As someone whose privacy was always tampered with, Tommy could understand, but his interest was really peaked.

So when they returned to LA, feeling refreshed from their long weekend at the cabin, Tommy decided to check this coffee out. The coffee that made his brother so happy, according to Ellie. He told Joel he wanted to come along to the rec centre, see if there was anything he could volunteer for during the remaining few weeks he had off, earning him a weirded out look from his older brother. But Joel relented, bringing Tommy with him that Monday when he took Ellie to the rec centre for class.

Tommy walked in with Ellie, supposedly to go meet the director of the rec centre, as Joel went to get his coffee. Ellie took him to the truck, hiding behind the nearest wall. The two watched as Joel approached the truck, looking jittery as fuck. “That’s Lil, that’s my boss,” Ellie whispered, pointing to you, who was standing outside with an older man, not talking to him, but smiling uncontrollably at him. The man just looked flustered, looking as if he was avoiding your teasing smiles, before going to clear the tables.

They watched as you clocked Joel’s presence, beaming at him, welcoming him back to the truck. They watched as the usually stoic Joel Miller got all smiley and light, nodding, saying “please” as you asked if he wanted his usual coffee. He greeted your Uncle Bill when you introduced them, enduring what seemed to be an overly tight handshake from the older man, before following you into the truck. They watched as he leaned against the counter, smiling and happily chatting with you as you made his coffee for him, his arms relaxed, hands placed on the counter on either side of him, as opposed to being across his chest when he talked to anyone who were not his family.

And Tommy watched disbelievingly as he saw his brother took a sip, his eyes closing, his head tilted back, his body relaxing, a dreamy smile on his face.

Okay, who the fuck was this man, and what had he done to his brother Joel?

And if an alien didn’t invade his brother’s body, that must be a damned good cup of coffee.

He needed to try that coffee. Like, now.

He said goodbye to Ellie and walked up to the window of the truck. As if some miraculous circus show was happening, he watched in horror as Joel took the apron off the hook by the door and put it on, tying it effortlessly behind his back.

His older brother’s face morphed into one of a deer being caught in headlights when he turned towards him with a beaming smile on his face, only to realize it was him, and not some random customer.

“Hello, Joel. I’ll have what you were having, please,” Tommy said, a teasing smile on his face.

Part 8

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Some Things Should Really Just Stay In The Vault

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Some Things Should Really Just Stay In The Vault

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: "Stiles, you are not breaking into the secret Disney porn vault," Derek heaves a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling his eyes so hard he nearly gives himself a migraine. "That's not a sentence I ever thought I'd have to say, but here we are. This is my life now."

"Oh come on, sourwolf," Stiles snickers. "You can't tell me you aren't at least a little bit curious." "There isn't enough brain bleach in the world to scour the mental image of Mickey and Goofy doing the horizontal tango," Derek quips, a self-satisfied smirk twitching at the corners of his lips as Stiles barks out a laugh and settles back into the passenger seat. A few minutes tick by in companionable silence, and then Stiles is bolting upright, glancing over at Derek with a look of feigned innocence betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eye. "So…" he ventures with an air of casual nonchalance that fools absolutely no one. "You think they keep this vault on the premises, or—"

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"—and we have to ride Millennium Falcon: Smugglers Run because, I mean, obviously. If I have the chance to pretend to be Han Solo for even a couple of minutes, I'm gonna take it. Except — oh shit — I might not actually get to be the pilot first time around, since the roles are assigned based on your position in line in a group of six, so we might have to ride it a couple of times, just to be safe," Stiles chatters away from the passenger seat, eyes glued to a never-ending scroll of article after review after shoddy instagram video as he regales a begrudgingly fond Derek with details about every single game, ride, and food court in the newly-minted Star Wars theme park.

Derek had been planning this surprise birthday trip for months now, ever since Disney had announced the date of the grand opening. He'd managed to keep it a secret from Stiles all of five minutes, until the snarky little shit had snuck up behind him for a tackle hug, saw him ordering the tickets, and screeched at a decibel only dogs should be able to hear. And though Derek isn't nearly as big of a fan as Stiles is, he has to admit that some of the attractions sound pretty cool (though he'll be pointedly avoiding the blue milk, thanks.)

Stiles is off on another tangent about how blue milk apparently tastes like a cross between coconut rice milk and a fruity hi-chew (and Derek thought butterbeer was too sweet) when he lets out a burst of laughter so sharp and sudden that Derek nearly swerves into oncoming traffic.

"I'm sorry," Stiles gasps in between peals of laughter. "I'm so sorry, dude, it's just— I just found out some absolutely golden dirty Disney secrets."

"Oh?" Derek prompts with a raised eyebrow, leaning over to glance at the post pulled up on Stiles's phone.

"Okay, so," Stiles starts, straightening up in his seat and launching into researcher mode. "According to the accounts of some of their former employees, Disney's got this weird rule in their artists' contracts — essentially, everything they create while under their employ, even in their off-time, belongs to Disney."

"That's shitty," Derek scoffs, lips twisting into a sour expression.

"It is," Stiles agrees with a quick nod. "But joke's on them, because apparently, a lot of the artists ended up drawing some pretty NSFW stuff in their time — all of it done in the classic animation style of the movies and tv shows they were actively working on at the time."

"Everything?" Derek asks with a scandalized quirk of his eyebrows. "Even—"

"Snow White? Aladdin? Treasure Planet? Little Mermaid? Beauty and the Beast? Mickey? Goofy? Yup, I'm afraid so. You name it, there's a high likelihood there's porn of it," Stiles confirms, ticking each one off on his fingers and casting Derek a sympathetic frown as his face pulls into an expression like he's just sucked a lemon.

"But get this," Stiles barrels on, unable to contain his glee. "Per their policies, they've got to keep every piece of art ever crafted by their animators. Which means that Disney owns an entire collection of erotic artwork inspired by all the family-friendly content they've ever created, locked away in a secret vault. A vault, Derek. Think about that. Think about how much porn would have to be created to fill an entire vault."

"I'd really rather not," Derek grimaces.

"Oh come on, sourwolf, that's fucking hilarious," Stiles snickers. "You can't tell me you aren't at least a little bit curious."

"There isn't enough brain bleach in the world to scour the mental image of Mickey and Goofy doing the horizontal tango," Derek quips with a sardonic sigh, a self-satisfied little smirk twitching at the corners of his lips as Stiles barks out a laugh and flashes him a dazzling smile.

With a contented hum, Stiles settles back into the passenger seat and leans his head against the window to marvel at the rolling landscape, sunlight and city skylines mirrored in his eyes.

But of course, the nice peaceful moment doesn't last long. A few minutes tick by in companionable silence, and then Stiles is bolting upright, glancing over at Derek with a look of feigned innocence betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eye.

"So…" he ventures with an air of casual nonchalance that fools absolutely no one. "You think they keep this vault on the premises, or—"

"Stiles, no."

"Stiles, yes."

"Stiles, you are not breaking into the secret Disney porn vault," Derek heaves a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and rolling his eyes so hard he nearly gives himself a migraine. "That's not a sentence I ever thought I'd have to say, but here we are. This is my life now."

"Oh come on, Derek," Stiles whines, tugging at his shirtsleeve. "I'm not saying you'd have to break in with me. Just, you know…be the lookout."

"No."

"You'd go down in history as the best boyfriend ever," he coaxes in a lilting, sing-song voice.

Derek raises one very unamused eyebrow in Stiles's direction.

"Okay, yes, obviously you already are," Stiles amends, flailing his arms in a dismissive motion. "But come on. A smutty Disney heist? Best. Birthday. Present. Ever."

"I am literally already taking you to Disneyland."

"Yes, but—"

"No porn vault," Derek asserts with a ringing finality.

"Fine," Stiles concedes with a theatrical groan, slumping down in his seat and admitting defeat. But then a wicked smile curls across his face as he recalls one wild, wolfsbane-infused round of Fuck, Marry, Kill where Erica had gotten Derek to admit to a long-time crush on a certain smoldering Disney prince, and breaks out his wildcard.

"Shame, though…" Stiles muses with a melodramatic sigh. "I'll bet they've got art of Flynn Rider."

Derek's knuckles whiten against the steering wheel, the tips of his ears tinged with a delicate shade of pink as he has war flashbacks, remembering all the devastatingly embarrassing details of that night. Moral of the story: never drink tequila.

The cabin of the Camaro is quiet for a few long moments, save for the gentle whoosh as cars pass them on the freeway, and then—

"…his name is Eugene, and I'm not saying I'll do it," Derek grumbles, but one look at Stiles's Cheshire Cat smile has him sighing in defeat.

And that's how they end up with a lifetime ban from the happiest place on earth, escorted off the premises by two burly security officers who merely laugh when Stiles asks if he can double back to collect their special edition Han and Leia themed Mickey ears hats, which he'd accidentally left on the floor of the not-so-secret porn vault. Derek has to physically carry Stiles back to the car, because no less than five minutes after they'd been given the boot, he's already got one foot in the fence and a half-cocked plan to break in and get them back.

[storkmuffin]

The Magic of San (6/n)

Marilyn Monroe Sidebar #4/4 ( Sidebar 1, Sidebar 2, Sidebar 3)

No but seriously, you guys, there are so many similarities between Marilyn Monroe and Choi San. Please agree with me.

On and off.

Marilyn Monroe was fabulous at being a movie star. She could turn it on or off at whim, according to at least one friend (Lee Strasberg's daughter). She was invisible just walking along the street in normal clothes in New York City, dressed simply, and nobody noticed her, beyond maybe, Oh that's a pretty lady. Then she asked her friend, Do you want me to become her? and the person who witnessed it happen couldn't actually articulate what it is she did, only that she did something and suddenly Norma Jean was gone and Marilyn Monroe was there, in the same clothes and get up but nevertheless suddenly present, and people swarmed.

Marilyn was also apparently absolutely delightful to fans. Anyone who ever saw her at a movie premier had a wonderful time, because she loved the red carpet, loved her fans, and really 'performed' being a movie star for them.

In his TokToq Live on 2025.1.19, San said that he sometimes has this feeling that he is 'not himself' when he's performing on stage. (TBF, I have heard Beyonce say this too, actually, and she names her stage persona entirely different from her actual name). Furthermore, he is often told that he "looks like San of Ateez" but nobody ever actually clocks him. This has led him, in his characteristic way, to wonder "Is my flesh and blood self not very exciting?" (내가 실물이 별로인가?) but I think possibly, he has this "on" persona and an "off" persona. "On" San is immediately recognizable, "off" San just looks like a boy who looks a lot like San of Ateez. There's a great post that makes the distinction between San and "Sanimal." I wonder if all great stars have this??

San shows a lot of deliberation about what it means to be an idol. There are expectations for how he is supposed to behave. San has learned what the rules are, and wants very much to adhere to them. He's paired with Wooyoung a lot, who also is very aware of what the rules are, and gets off on deliberately flouting them. San will calmly lecture Wooyoung about his failure to behave like an Idol, insisting "remember you're an Idol" when Wooyoung purposefully acts against the role of model citizen that S. Korean society demands of Idols.

On a different live, (2025.1.27) San has addressed when the fans in attendance who were apparently cursing at him to get his attention. He laid out his boundaries: He can tolerate 미친 but beyond that is a bit difficult to stomach. He said note that since many foreigners are all intentinoally learning Korean swear words, he tries to accept the strong language when it is used as adjectives - as in 'fucking' is fine if it's in the context of "I fucking loved the show" perhaps, but a straight up, aggressively intended "fuck you" would not be ok. Then he said, as a statement, 여러분은 평생 내가 욕하는 거 들을 리 없겠지만. (You would never hear me swear your whole lives.) I thought this was an extraordinary statement for a guy who's 25 and planning to stay in the public eye decades to say. How would that be sustainable? But he intends to see it through - of that I have no doubt.

Studious

Both San and Marilyn are hardworking people, sure, but I actually think most people are hardworking if you give them something with even a modicum of meaning. What San and Marilyn are, actually, are studious, almost bookish.

Marilyn had a major intellectual hunger that was never actually fulfilled, mostly because given the combination sexism and resentment that her great beauty inspired, she was so relentlessly mocked for her intellectual curiosity. But she read, challenging herself to difficult texts, wrote, had considered and rather brave political opinions. Towards the end of her life, Marilyn was trying to figure herself out by making recordings of her thoughts, going to therapy, taking difficult acting classes, and for a while, very reliant on a strict acting coach. Marilyn and Natasha Lytesse are still speculated on as being lovers, which I don't really care about, but Marilyn did insist on having Natasha present on her sets and listened only to her. This too was mocked, but I assume Marilyn's reliance on this coach wasn't just the usefulness of whatever coaching she got - Lytesse was possibly the only person on set who took Marilyn seriously as an artist. Marilyn kept wanting to get better, and be serious, and make art.

As a bookish person who also loves the idea of expanding my inner world by taking in external stimulus, it always hurts me that Marilyn never had anybody take her intellectual yearnings seriously - not Joe DiMaggio, not Arthur Miller, very few of her male costars, even fewer directors. She was just born at the wrong time, in so many ways. I feel like her equivalent may actually be Nicole Kidman - a superlatively beautiful actress who wants to make dark material. Kidman of course was raised in a stable, intellectual home.

San has exhibited a similar lack of pride and hunger for artistic achievement. It can't have been easy, necessarily, to be a stiff, slightly awkward dancer with mostly a martial arts background asking for coaching and attention from very near peers. It speaks to a lackof unnecessary pride, which I think is rare to find in very young people. San's dance performances are to my eye the most 'ballet' to me, in terms of his having absorbed whatever classes he got in formal dance training and insisting on keeping those in his body. San is, along with Hong Joong, the only singer in this singing group that seems to just constantly burst into song. (I have not seen a long of Jongho footage, tbf). Whenever he's bored, waiting for other people to get ready for him, or his mood improves, he just starts singing. Other members have said that he's a bit of a practice nut, constantly working on improving himself in a way they found transformative and inspirational.

And one more thing -

Throughout the European concert tour, San has discussed his continuing to study English. He devotes 30 minutes per day every day to studying, and he does it using a very standard textbook. I found this so moving, that he would tell people about it (creating external accountability) and be so sweetly proud of the progress he was making in his book.

San is gifted at languages by the way. I too am gifted at languages, so I am the authority on this. This Atiny on Tumblr has noticed it too, that he has an ear and a knack for correct pronunciation ( in this case, German). His English pronunciation seem like real accomplishments to me. I assume that his being a gifted singer has something to do with this - he can hear with great attention to detail, so it helps him replicate the sounds better. During their Japanese TV special, San made a concerted effort to try to speak Japanese with the people that he met as well as the crew, even if it's imperfect, because this is how you improve. (Yunho seems the most fluent in Japanese, but that's just ... Yunho, to be good at all the idol things lol, which in Kpop includes speaking Japanese).

The encouragement and admiration that San's fans express for him when he talks about studying English or Japanese is something I'm so happy he has, and I wish Marilyn had had something like that too. **

**Though I don't know -would she? If say, another (I think) very smart, sexy little blonde (say, Sabrina Carpenter) went on social media and talked about how she was teaching herself German so she could read Goethe, would her fans support her?

[fluffyk97]

Tell me you're severely sonadow brainrotted without telling me you're sonadow brainrotted...

Sonic 3 spoilers

I fr thought Shadow was gonna swoop in and catch Sonic here- sjgsjgodgksihs

[a-stars-art-blog]

Finished the wips from yesterday