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mv1simp · 15 hours ago

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That Boy Is Mine ♥️

Max Verstappen x Siren!Reader

that boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him, watch me take me time, boy is divine (that boy is mine)

As a young, beautiful and rich CEO living in Monaco, you have any man you want in the palm of your hand. But a certain handsome Dutchman has caught your eye…there’s just a small problem of his current girlfriend that’s in your way! You’ll just have to prove to Max how much better you could spoil him.

Content Includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, seductress! girlboss! Reader, naive!max, infidelity but Max’s unnamed gf is annoying anyway, size kink, Halloween costume sex lol, seriously explicit cheating don’t read if not ur thing!!!

The thing was, you wouldn’t normally ever go to such lengths for a boy. Why would you? You were a pretty girl in her 20’s living in Monaco, running your own successful public relations management firm. That’s how you’d met Max, through a PR crisis of Redbull that Christian Horner had personally called you to get sorted. Some drama with a defamation lawsuit against their poster boy, Max Verstappen, who you hadn’t paid a second of attention to despite living in Monaco. You were much more likely to get your nails done and enjoy a glass of wine than be following a race weekend.

But after you’d easily sorted the mess out, you’d been suprised to find Max himself patiently waiting in your luxurious office, wanting to thank you with a gift of tasteful French wine. It’s rare for one of your clients to take accountability for their actions instead of letting their managers sort it out for them, after all. You don’t miss the way Max’s pretty blue eyes widened as he took in your appearance, with a tight black dress with lacy sleeves that did wonders to push your tits up temptingly. He’d been expecting some old man, not a beautiful girl his age. He cleared his throat nervously, suddenly finding it hard to maintain contact with your sultry eyes as he stuttered his thank you. Cute, you think with a tilt of your head, enjoying his deep Dutch accent. He’s very different to the arrogant, pompous personality you’d expected from a champion F1 driver. And he was insanely gorgeous too, all 6 foot of thick thighs and broad shoulders. You’ve met many attractive men in Monaco and flirted your way around them, but Max catches your eye with his baby blue eyes and soft blonde locks. So you can’t help gently brushing your manicured hand against his bulging bicep, looking up at him with fluttering lashes to say it’s so sweet of him to go to all the trouble to come downtown, really, you’re happy to help him anytime!

He walks out of your office with your personal phone number for any media emergencies, of course. As well as a blushing face and a semi erection he guiltily tugs at his pants to hide, after looking down to see your plump, soft cleavage when your smaller body pressed up against his.

A quick google stalk of your client leaves you feeling very annoyed when you discover he’s not single like you’d originally hoped. You roll your eyes as you look at the B list model’s Insta he’s dating, spammed full of photos of her with Max’s wins for clout or artificial brand collabs. So tacky and undeserving of someone like Max, you muse later that evening over an espresso martini. You’re too deep in your own thoughts to pay attention to your date with a Monaco hotel chain owner that evening.

When you find a massive bouquet of roses on your desk the next day, you assume your date was being persistent despite your disinterest last night. But when you find VIP tickets to Max’s garage next race and first class flights nestled amongst the red flowers, you’re even more intrigued. You attended, out of curiosity more than anything. You’re not planning on getting involved with an already taken man - far too much drama for the CEO of a media relations company.

But you can’t deny Max knows how to give a girl princess treatment, something which you’d gotten used to providing for yourself since no man had been able too. From the relaxing, personalised flight experience, to the sleek expensive Mercedes he’d had sent to pick you up at the airport, the 5 star suite in a hotel, and to the exciting VIP lounge at his garage filled with interesting people you’d easily networked with. And when you see Max confidently dominate through the track to P1, sounding so sexy over the radio without a hint of shyness, pulling off his helmet afterwards to show off his gorgeous, messy hair as he adorably smiles at you to ask how you’d enjoyed the day, you realized this wasn’t just any man. No, Max was the one, the perfect man to provide you with whatever you asked for and take care of you when you needed him.

Not that you needed him to. After all, you were well known as one of the most successful businesswomen in your country - and you didn’t get that title without a pair of fangs to match. You’d be a true power couple - much better suited than his current subpar girlfriend, who dragged him down in every way.

You’d made up your mind. That boy was destined to be yours, no matter what.

So you began developing your relationship with Max and become frequently seen on the paddock, all under the guise of improving his media image, of course. The handsome blonde had no issues spending time with you, finding you to share his sarcastic sense of humour and in awe of your very keen analytical sense that you easily applied to the racing world as well. He liked how you were unfazed with the media circus that surrounded him, too, not blinking twice when trashy gossip magazines posted suggestive captions about you and Max. And you always seemed to know just how to carefully phrase your words assertively when asked insensitive questions by grid reporters, who were curious about Max’s new PR advisor. It was very different to what he was used to with his girlfriend, who frequently fed into gossip column content with Insta posts and livestreams - which constantly annoyed Max.

Soon you’re a regular amongst his group of friends. You meet his girlfriend, finally, at a dinner one night. She’s taken her hold on Max for granted, barely interested in you as she snaps selfies with the more famous people at the table. You can’t resist the foxy smile on your glossed lips - it’s almost too easy, given how unaware she seems of how discontent Max is with the relationship. You sit next to him all night, laughing and sipping your favourite wine that he now knows by heart and orders for you, the conversation genuine and a bit too flirty for “just friends”. And when your lace minidress rides up, and your soft thighs and crossed ankles brush against his muscular legs, he doesn’t move away, letting you press against him for warmth when he rests his large palm around your thigh. Your panties are soaked through by the time you get home from how often you had to clench your legs, imaging his massive hands drifting just a bit higher…

It’s easy to blame the touchiness on the alcohol the next morning and strictly maintain your professional distance as you hand him paperwork to sign in your office. You smirk when you catch his eyes in a passing mirror, glued to your ass through another tight lace dress as you walk away in Louboutin stilettos. Max was very much an ass man - that is, when he wasn’t being a tits man. You certainly had no qualms showing off your thick curves to him, knowing you had a lot more to offer than his girlfriend. It was impossible to miss the way his blue eyes would drift towards your tempting body whenever he thought no one was looking.

So next weekend, you invite him onto your boat for a day trip. It’s much smaller than his personal multi level yacht, but perfect for what you had planned. It’s a nice touch to have all your coupled up friends with you, who disappear off to various rooms in the boat as the sun gets hotter and they get drunker. You hand Max another strong G&T you’ve mixed yourself, now just alone on the top deck with him. He takes it easily, telling you you’d make a deadly bartender. You hmm, resting a knee on the couch he sits on. It’s a manoeuvre that brings your bouncing tits, barely covered in a white skimpy bikini, right into his eyeline. Max takes one look at your nipples pebbling through the fabric, gulps cutely, and promptly drains the glass in his hand.

You try to contain the smile on your glossed lips as he tries and fails to look away from your tits in his face, stammering out responses to idle chit chat you’re making. It’s adorable how his confident, dominating personality switches so fast off the track with you. At one point you say you’re sorry that his girlfriend couldn’t make it (you aren’t - you’d planned the getaway on a day you knew she had a modelling gig booked, of course, since you’re the one who’d pulled strings to set up the photoshoot). Relaxed with all the G&Ts, Max mentions that actually, his girlfriend had been very persistent in trying to stop him coming today.

Oh? You say with faux innocence, tilting your head and widening your doe eyes with worry. Why? She doesn’t like me? Max rushes to soothe your worries, saying no, no, it was more that - well, I think she’s a bit jealous…you’re very beautiful, after all. I think I might just need to spend more time with her from now on. You laugh at his cute blush, telling him Of course, but she had nothing to worry about, after all she was the model and not you!

You know how to play the game, knew that despite his model girlfriend at his side, you had him practically drooling in your tiny white bikini, contrasting beautifully against your tan skin. But he had to be the one to cross the line first, and think it was all his idea. Especially if his bitchy girlfriend was starting to catch onto your plans and demanding Max stay with her. So you walk away, making sure to sway your hips so he can enjoy the view of your ass as you lay on your tummy to sweetly ask your cute lifeguard if he’d mind putting sunscreen on your back?

Your lifeguard jumps at the chance, having already been checking you out all day. He’s taking the bottle and raking his eyes over your form hungrily - but Max interrupts even sooner than you’d predicted. His love language being physical touch works in your favour. You hide your pleased smile as a deep Dutch voice heatedly says that he can do it, and you turn to see Max glaring at the lifeguard with all the intensity of a lion. Are you sure you don’t mind, Max? You say sweetly, blinking your thick lashes up at him from your compromising position, your head right at the level of his hips. You hope he’s thinking the same naughty thoughts as you when his blue gaze darkens. That it would be so easy to slide his thick fingers past your pouting lips and hold them open as he messily fucks your all too willing mouth. You bite your bottom lip at the filthy idea.

You see him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in that huge muscled neck of his. No, it’s okay! That lifeguard…well, I don’t want him putting his hands on you. God, you couldn’t wait to lick hickeys all up and down his broad shoulders before wrapping your thighs around them as he ate you out. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, coming back to the present as you lie down to let Max touch up your sunscreen. His large palms are tentative at first, trying to remain respectful within the boundaries of friendship. But when you’re softly sighing, moaning that it feels so good, Maxie, work has made my back way to tense, could you use one of those massage techniques your physio taught you? it’s impossible for him to not go a little further. Your tiny bikini easily lets him explore your body, his strong hands gripping your plush hips and giving him a naughty mental picture of what you’d look like if he took you from the back. You’re glad your sunglasses are extra dark so you can peek at his trunks, enjoying the rapidly hardening large bulge there, responding to all the cute little moans and gasps you’re letting out as you tremble under his touch.

You decide to tease him a bit more, reaching behind your neck to untie your string bikini, shyly saying you didn’t want to get tan lines…he didn’t mind, right? You can totally go ask the lifeguard to help!

Max’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your bare back as he dazedly shakes his head, huskily saying he was happy to help, you’re his friend after all. All the blood rushed straight from his brain to his cock to make his decision as he feels the lush swell of your tits from the side when they generously slip out. You celebrate your victory internally when he shyly asks if he could take off your bikini bottoms so you didn’t get tan lines there, too?

You hesitate, coquettishly blinking and asking him if his girlfriend would be mad? Max pauses with your reminder, his large hands spread over your juicy asscheeks as he resists the urge to squeeze them. Your plan falls right into place as you cheekily suggest that surely it would be okay if he closed his eyes, just for a second, you really didn’t want tan lines there after all-

That was all Max needed to hear before he eagerly nodded, looking the picture of an overexcited puppy. This time you can’t resist your smirk as your slowly untie your bottoms, jiggling your ass as you slide them down so he catches a glimpse of the tempting flesh before he remembers to close his eyes. His large, calloused palms run down your plump ass, unable to resist squeezing roughly and making you moan sexily. You part your legs invitingly, and when those thick fingers of his brush against your pussy you know he can feel how wet you are for him. So dripping wet, that one of his fingers easily slides against your warm pussy lips. Max, you gasp breathily, your entrance instinctively clenching around the tip of his thick finger. What are you- Oh! Desire rushes straight to his groin as he gets a feel of how tight your sweet cunny would feel squeezing down on something else thick of his and he can’t help but sink his finger all the way in. It takes him longer than it should to come to his senses and move his hand away, stammering out apologies that he hadn’t meant to touch you there, his hand just slipped, could you forgive him?

To his relief, you giggle at his flushed face, turning around to meet his embarrassed gaze. Don’t worry about it, accidents happen! you say playfully, as if you hadn’t planned this, tying your bikini back up slowly. As he watches you strut away confidently in your little heeled sandals, he can’t resist tasting the wetness you’d left all over his fingers. He almost cums in his trunks from how sweet you taste, and hastily returns to his room. You smirk when you press an ear to your bedroom wall, hearing the shower running in Max’s bathroom right next door. Sadly for you, you can’t hear anything over the sound of the shower, leaving you pouting and pussy aching from the memory of Max’s hands on you.

But just on the other side, a certain blonde Dutchman is giving into his growing taboo desires. It’s not the first time he’s jerked off to you - no, with all the frequent teasing glimpses of your plush cleavage or your ass in tight dresses, he’s regularly mentally drooling over you. He knows it’s wrong, and in the beginning he did feel guilty…but now only the thought of your sexy little body that can get him hard like this. Tipping his head back and letting the cool water flow down his abs, Max slowly jerks off his impressive erection as he fantasies about you shaking and cutely moaning underneath him. Your lush tits spilling out from the sides, your wide hips that would be the perfect thing for him to hold tightly as he fucked you in doggystyle, his favourite. And now he knew what your soft tanned skin felt like, how sweet and wet your cunny was for him….well, it’s enough to make him addicted. He’s cumming within seconds, biting his lips and imagining how good it would feel to bury his aching cock inside your cunny instead of his finger next time.

He still blushes cutely when he sees you next, at a friend’s party, but you’re as nonchalant as ever, greeting him with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He watches you laugh at something one of his guy friends are saying and can’t stop the jealousy swirling in his chest, even when his girlfriend tugs on his arm to get him his attention all night.

Of course, you’re playing the long game. It didn’t matter how many men you flirted with - there was only one who you truly wanted. So for one of the exclusive Halloween parties in Monaco, you discreetly organise one of the big fashion houses you represent to send Max’s girlfriend a haute couture costume. She accepts it, spamming her Insta story with pics of it, just like you’d expected. You’re certain she would show up to the event with a reluctant Max in tow.

And on that night of the Halloween party, you smile as you spot a bored looking Max across the living room of the mansion the party is hosted at. His gorgeous blue eyes widen as he spots you…dressed in the same costume as his girlfriend. But you’d had some customised alterations made, looking ethereal in your white angel costume, tits pushed up with a corset and soft tummy and hips on display in your low waisted miniskirt. Max is far from the only guy who stared at you hungrily as you entered - including your date, some Russian model you’d met at a PR event, dressed just like Max in a tight fitting shirt and a Ghostface mask that hid his identity when on.

Someone might just call your choice of couple’s costume a random coincidence, but you didn’t make mistakes like that. Your date had two jobs tonight - one which he’d already done successfully, as you see Max’s icy blue gaze glaring at the hand around your waist. You whisper in your date’s ear, parting ways for now, because he had another mission to go complete that you’d already asked him to do for you as a favour. Namely, keeping Max’s goldigging girlfriend occupied tonight. And since your date happened to inherit his father’s multimillion manufacturing business, you were sure Max’s girlfriend would be throughly enraptured by him.

You laugh and mingle with friends throughout the night, catching Max’s intense gaze on you a few times but pretending to ignore it. He’s finally had enough of seeing you flirt with other guys when you end up on the dancefloor. You shiver as you feel his strong, muscled body behind you, shielding you from any guy who tries to get close to you. That’s fine with you, because the only one you wanted to grind back against was Max after all. So you toss your hair, getting lost in the music and tipsily giggling, enjoying the low rumble in Max’s chest as your fat ass teases his hardening bulge. His large palms settle possessively over your hips, leaning down to smell your sweet vanilla perfume. He lets you drag him into a quiet, dark corner, giggling and pressing your soft body against his as you whisper he looked so hot tonight, his biceps looked amazing, had he been working out more?

And then your doe eyes, prettily outlined in glittery eyeshadow and eyeliner, look up from his muscular chest to meet his piercing blue eyes as he pulls his mask off. You gasp, widening your eyes in supposed shock as you blush and stammer that you’re so sorry Max, you’d thought he was your date, he’s dressed the same after all…

He’s disappointed, of course, missing the touch of your manicured fingers running up and down his abs. He ends up agreeing to help you find your date again after you look at him pleadingly, although the idea of letting another guy put his hands on you makes him want to unleash Mad Max. But when you two finally find your date, behind a closed bedroom door upstairs, you see he’s been kept very good company by none other than Max’s girlfriend.

Your hands fly to your mouth in pretend shock at the scene of your date with his balls deep inside the gold digging girlfriend, her artificial sounding moans radiating around the room. Your date had exceeded your expectations and kept her very well occupied, it seemed. Max is disgusted with the sight, snarling in anger and moving to block your view of your date cheating on you. He’s so sweet, really, being so protective of you when you’d executed the whole plan to perfection. You hear his girlfriend exclaim in shock, trying to plead that it wasn’t what it looked like…but you’d given the Dutchman the final excuse to call it off. Don’t ever fucking come near me or her again, he growls, his voice radiating confidence and authority in a way which makes you squeal internally.

To your delight, Max insists on taking you home, worried about how you’d feel after finding your date cheating on you…with his backstabbing ex girlfriend, he mutters darkly. He’s fuming at her betrayal, but as you lead him into your cozy apartment you’re already planning your next scheme. When he asks you gently if you’re sure you’re ok, is there anything he could do to help, he’s so sorry that his ex got involved with your personal life like this you sweetly nod and tell him you just wanted to take your mind off it all.

He’s eager to help you, nodding enthusiastically when you ask if he’d help plan your costume for your next Halloween event the following night? Your date would no longer be helping you, after all. Of course, schat, anything you want he says earnestly, pretty blue eyes looking at you with adoration as you pout. Handing him a glass of whiskey to sip on while you guide him to sit on the end of your bed, you sashay into your walk in closet. You make sure to leave the door half open, so Max gets a full view of the red lingerie you’re wearing underneath your costume. You take your time getting ready, bending over to pull on your outfit and shaking your hips enticingly, making sure to give Max a naughty show. And if the angel costume had been sexy, the schoolgirl outfit you put on next is positively scandalous. You shyly walk out in heels and a tiny pleated skirt, skimpy white top tied around your breasts to push them out even more as you twirl for him. What do you think? you ask anxiously when Max just stares without saying anything. It looks bad, doesn’t it-

He hastily denies your words, stumbling out that you looked gorgeous, you always did, you didn’t have anything to worry about.

When you giggle happily and announce that you had a few more to show him, he licks his lips in anticipation and drains more of the whiskey from his glass. You give him another slow striptease through your closet door, this time taking off your bra so he gets a flash of your hard nipples. You see him widen his legs to accomodate the raging erection hanging in between his thick thighs and have to stop yourself drooling at the delicious sight. But Max is the one controlling himself next when you emerge in a cat costume, all black latex booty shorts and tight corset, paired with kitten ears and a tail.

His jaw drops open at the tempting sight, and when you ask him if he thinks it’s cute enough to make your date regret cheating on you he clenches his jaw and growls that the pathetic bastard didn’t deserve the privilege of seeing you all dressed up like this.

You try and fail to hide your coy smile at Max’s jealous words, and then find yourself pulled forward in between his legs as he murmurs that there were plenty of other ways to get back at your date. Oh? You say breathlessly, sinking onto your plush ass to sit in between his spread thighs, resting your cheek against his leg. Like what, Maxie?

He groans at the temptation in front of him, of your glossed pouting lips right next to where he needed you the most. You’re not behaving like a good kitty, he jokes, but his voice is rough as desire swirls in his eyes. You’re teasing me far too much while thinking about some guy nowhere near my level.

You grin like a Cheshire and slowly get on all fours, swaying your ass in the air and nuzzling your face right up against his bulging erection. Am I still a bad girl now? you whisper, flicking your tongue out to lick his zipper sluttily. Shall I make it up to you? Max groans above you, thick neck flexing as he tangles a large palm into your hair. Schatje, he says breathlessly, as you slowly unzip his jeans, squealing in delight as his fat cock emerges to slap against your cheeks. So big, Maxie you croon, going cross eyed as you place kitten licks all along his engorged cockhead. What did I say about teasing me? Max groans above you, applying delicious pressure to the back of your head as he pushes your lips down onto his shaft. Mmfh! Your moans are muffled as he loses control, fucking your mouth without abandon. Pleased moans fill the air as you drool over his length, letting him throat fuck you and use you for his pleasure. Your pink lip gloss is smeared all over his cock as your eyes roll back in your head, one of your hands reaching down to play with your aching cunny as Max leaves bruises in the back of your mouth.

Weeks of sexual tension finally lead to him cumming in your throat, so far down that you swear you can fill him hit your tummy, and you obediently suck up every last drop. He’s so far from done, though. He wants you on your hands and knees, his strong hands ripping a hole into your slutty latex shorts to hungrily taste your sweet pussy again. Soon enough your bedroom is filled with obscene sounds of Max fucking his bare cock into your cunny, pounding into you from behind. It’s even hotter than his dirtiest fantasies, and he’s making you tremble and scream his name as he presses down on your neck, burying your face into the sheets and whispering filthy praise in your ear. You’re so pleased you’d thought to set up a tiny camera by your nightstand, capturing every second of your first fuck with Max so you can enjoy it later. Your pussy squeezes around his length like a vice, and it’s most euphoric feeling he’s experienced in his life. He’s cumming again within minutes, moaning how good you feel, he fucking loves your cunt, loves you and takes you over the edge with him as he gives you an open mouthed kiss.

You smile contentedly against his warm lips, letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. Your red manicured nails tangle possessively in soft blonde locks as you sigh into the passionate make out. Max was exactly where he belonged, finally - in your bed, with you in his arms.

And unlike the silly women who’d taken him for granted, you were never going to let him go.

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A/N: thank you soooo much for ur patience my dear readers, I fear I was getting a bit of writers block seeing all the photos of max and Kelly in the holiday season 😭😭😭 I hope u guys enjoy this piece!! Send me lots of ur raunchy asks plz I need inspiration ♥️♥️

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #max verstappen x you #18+ mdni

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sturnlsstuff · 3 days ago

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GENTLEMAN | matt sturniolo

loser!matt x partygirl!reader

matt gets dragged to a party, when he meets the "party queen" who definitely doesn't find him terribly boring like he thought she would, which she makes sure he understands.

requested by @mattsobvimyfav . divider credits. @anitalenia

— warnings; smutty smut, sub!matt, soft!dom!reader, making out, blowjob, riding, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, whiny matt (hot alert), pet names (pretty/good boy, baby, sweetheart...) cursing, praise kink lowkey, mentions of weed, cigs and alcohol, — english isn't my first language.

women like you were out of the league for guys like matt. you were a typical popular girl, partying every week and not like normal people did. you were the queen of the dance floor. party queen, that's how people called you. everyone with eyes and a brain admired the graceful way you carried yourself around. never missing parties, always staying until the very end, usually your friends had to carry you out of the building due to the excess alcohol in your blood and inability to stand on your own feet. when you were telling a joke, everyone laughed. when you were taking shots, so did others, that's how convincing you were.

you could have any guy you wanted, but no one was perfect for your standards. you were admired by girls who wanted to be like you and guys who wanted you.

matt was one of those people. he admired you.

he didn't know you well as a person who kept away from people. he was an observer type, only talked to his closest friends, of whom he had few. maybe even a little shy, that's what people called him, but really when he felt comfortable? he could be so interesting.

he had never talked to you before, only ever heard about you or knew what he had noticed. matt wasn't the party type, usually was practically dragged out of the comfort of his room. he didn't like looking for adventures. and today? some girl that his brothers were friends with, and that matt knew by sight, had a birthday and of course chris and nick once again dragged him out of the house for the party, ignoring his complaints. so that's how he found himself in this house full of rich, drunk kids, loud music blasting in his ears, every now and then someone would trip over his legs, causing him to roll his eyes. he sat half the party on the couch in the corner of the main room, arms crossed and beer in hand. he really wanted to go home, but his brothers would kill him if he didn't last until midnight. half an hour left.

unable to bear it any longer, he finally goes outside where the music was a little muffled, giving him the feeling of getting to breathe again. maybe that was the case. being surrounded by so many people was overwhelming. he lights a cigarette, which was his little addiction but helped him relax, and leans against the wall, praying that the minutes go by faster.

he started getting more and more relaxed, finally at peace, tilting his head back and blowing out clouds of smoke until he heard giggles. his eyes immediately opening, noticing you and your two friends coming out from behind the building and walking crookedly towards him, you searching for something in your purse. he would recognize the party queen everywhere.

"... i can't find it!! i swear i had it!!" you laugh, giving up with whatever you wanted to find, your purse slips off your shoulder just by the front door of the house, right next to where matt was standing. he automatically bends down and hands it to you, drawing the attention of you and your friends to him, which makes his heart beat faster. "oh helloooo, thank you," a smile appears on your face, that brings a slight warmth to his cheeks.

"yeah, no problem," he tries to keep it cool, scratching the back of his neck nervously. you look at your friends, gasping playfully, "ohhh, maybe this gentleman will have a lighter—" your gaze goes back to his blue eyes that were now wide. "do you have a lighter??? i think i lost mine!"

"a what— oh—" he snaps out of his trance, staring too hard at you which makes him blush even more. you were so beautiful. he clears his throat, "yeah, uh, i have one..." he hands it to you, your friends giggling at his nervousness, while you thought he's being really cute. "here you go."

"you're a life saveeeerrrrr," you're about to start searching for the cigarettes but he's quick to pass his own pack to you. "oh god, you're like an angel," your grin widens as you take a cigarette from him, putting it between your lips and lighting it up.

"girlll, my song is playing! can you hurry up?" your friend complains, causing you to roll your eyes.

"just go, i'll come in a minute."

"you sure?"

"yeah, go," you repeat yourself and stand next to matt who was leaning against the wall against, his heart pounding in his chest. he could feel your perfume mixed with... weed, perhaps? you give him the lighter and cigarettes back with a simple 'thank you'.

you both stand next to each other in silence that was starting to weigh on him, but he wasn't able to speak first. you both smoke your cigarettes when you finally look at him again. dressed all in black, a beer in one hand, on which you notice tattoos. oh, he's handsome as fuck.

"so" you speak up, getting his attention. "does this gentleman have a name?"

he smiles shyly, overwhelmed by your beauty. "i'm matt."

"matt," you repeat, tasting his name on your tongue. "i like it. suits you."

the way you repeat his name makes him feel both uncomfortable and strangely excited at the same time. he rubs the back of his neck nervously again, blowing out the smoke, just as you say your name too. he gives you a glance, "i know."

"oh, do you?" a smirk appears on your lips as you take another drag. he replies hesitantly, "well, i mean... who doesn't?"

you nod confidently, "right." your eyes travel to his tattooed arm again, feeling your stomach twisting in knots at the sight. he catches it and looks down at his arm as well. "i like them. make you look hotter," you confess.

he blinks, caught of guard by your words. he wasn't really used to people, especially not girls like you, saying things like that to him. mostly because he barely was leaving his house. he feels his heart race, a warmth spreading through his chest. "thanks."

"of course," you respond casually, checking him out once again before looking away with a small smile and taking another drag of the cigarette. you were slightly high, not really that drunk yet and you knew what you were doing. his awkwardness was so cute, there was no way you'd let this man go so quickly tonight. you actually felt like you need to have him.

matt finishes his beer in one swing, putting the empty bottle aside, causing your attention to get back to him.

the more you looked at him, the more he reminded you of someone, but there was no way you talked or even seen matt before. though, you decide to ask, "wait, don't i know you already?"

he raises his eyebrow, locking eyes with you. "me? i don't think so." i would definitely want you to, he thinks.

"oh, 'cause i feel like i do. or maybe you just remind me of someone—"

"i'm a triplet. you probably know my brothers."

"ohhh, wait—" you snap your fingers, trying to remember. "yeah, chris and— and nick? oh, now i know. never seen you before though. lowkey thought they're bullshitting about being triplets."

matt smiles amused, taking one last drag and throwing the butt of the cigarette on the ground, trampling it with his shoe. "yeah, m'not really out going."

"i see," you nod, smiling back. "i'd definitely remember you."

he chuckles softly, feeling his face warm at your words again. damn, get your shit together matthew. "really, huh?"

"yeah. with this looks and that—?" you point at his tattoos. "i promise, i would remember."

you didn't feel like beating around the bush, you liked him. he was extremely handsome, his hair looked so soft you wanted to run your hand through it, his eyes made you weak in your knees and his lips begged to be kissed. not to mention the aura he had around him, he intrigued you. matt was different than the rest of those assholes you met at parties.

he looks away shyly, the smile on his face makes your heart flutter. literal butterflies — something you've never had before.

you finish the cigarette in a comfortable silence, getting slightly overwhelmed after the weed you smoked before. leaning against the wall, your shoulder brushes against his, drawing his attention back to you.

"you good?"

"mhm, it's that cigarette, give me a second."

he nods, watching as you throw the rest of it aside. "okay. jus' don't go passing out on me."

"hey, i'm not that drunk i can even stand on my hands if you want. look—" you're literally bending over in front of him, hands on the ground, and you're ready to do it, but he quickly grabs your waist, forcing you to straighten up. matt tried his hardest not to look at your ass and the way your short dress rode up. his pants suddenly start to grow tighter but he ignores it.

"you better not—"

with a giggle, you turn around to face him, the feelings of his hands sends a shiver down your spine. "i could easily do that."

"sure," he raises his eyebrow, the blush on his cheeks only growing because of the closeness. "i don't think i'd know what to do with a drunk and unconscious party queen on my hands, if you did that."

"right, okay." you bite down on your bottom plump lip, which doesn't go unnoticed by him. "but what would you do with a slighty tipsy and definitely conscious party queen on your hands, hm?"

his eyes sparkle with amusement, heart rate subtly increasing at your promixity. "well, that's a pretty open-ended question," he replies, his voice low and gentle. "depends on the party queen personality and how she's feeling."

oh, he's funny.

"and if the party queen is feeling perfectly fine and have the best personality ever?"

the air between you two suddenly feeling charged with an unexpected, but pleasant tension. matt could feel himself getting more and more worked up. he tried to be the gentleman that handed you the purse a few minutes ago, or gave you a cigarette and a lighter, but it was getting hard. especially now, when he realizes his hands are still on your waist and you don't seem to mind at all.

"oh, in that case i'd probably just try to keep up 'n hope her great personality doesn't find me too terribly boring."

"nah, i think she finds you pretty intriguing actually." you tilt your head to the side, eyes dropping to his lips before moving back up. oh, those lips.... "and if she wanted to show you just how bad?"

he swallows hard, "you mean, hypothetically... if she wanted to show me she's interested?"

"mhm, yeah. exactly what i mean," you lean in, giving him time to push you away, but he doesn't. oh, he would never. he wanted you so bad, knowing he's just one of hundreds of your simps, but it was the last thing on his mind right now. all he wanted is to feel your lips on his.

and he finally did.

closing the gap between you two, you kiss him softly, what he does too after a moment. his initial hesitation melting into reciprocation as your lips move against his. his hands, unsure at first, eventually move down to your hips, pulling you gently closer. your fingers tangling into his messy, soft hair, pushing him slightly against the wall, getting a hum in approval. matt starts relaxing against you, letting you set the pace and tone for your interaction. as you take your time, he finds himself growing more comfortable and excited. he would never think it would happen. with you out of all people.

the kiss starts getting more and more heated, you grow slightly impatient, feeling the ache between your legs starting to grow. you press your body closer to him, hand traveling up and down his chest, your tongues dancing together. once he feels how gently you bite his lip, a small whine leaves him, your mind spins and definitely not because of the amount of alcohol or weed you've consumed.

you break the kiss, both of you panting as you mutter against his lips, "come with me, yeah?" getting a weak nod in response, you're fast to make your way back into the crowded house, dragging matt behind you by his wrist.

his palms start to sweat as you take him upstairs and reach some empty room, pushing him inside. the noise of the party fading behind you two once you kick the door shut and attack his lips again.

matt is overwhelmed but in the best way possible. his senses are filled with your sweet scent, the tension growing in his pants with each second. his eagerness showing in his tentative exploration, but offset by an earnest enthusiasm. he lets out a soft sigh into the kiss, surrendering to your lead. he hits the bed and falls onto the mattress, you climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs. he gasps softly as your weight presses down on him in the most distracting and exhilarating way. his hands instinctively find their way to your hips again, gripping slightly as he tries to adjust to this new position.

breaking the kiss, you start trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, his head tilts back unconsciously, giving you better access to his skin. his whole body shivers at the delicate touches of your lips, a soft moan escaping him as you hit a particularly sensitive spot, sucking on it to intentionally mark him.

his reaction brings a smile to your face and you look up to see him in such a cute state. messy hair, cheeks reddish, his pink lips swollen from the make out as he lets out heavy breaths.

"look at you, pretty boy."

his eyelids flutter open, revealing pupils dilated with desire. matt touches the mark on his neck lightly, fingers tracing where you'd sucked. "that's..." he clears his throat, feeling his face flush even more. the way you look at him is both intimidating and incredibly hot.

"hm? you like it?"

"y-yeah, that's really... good," he admits.

you just couldn't help yourself, he was so majestic, really. the way he was clearly trying not to rush or throw himself at you, makes you want to give him all the pleasure in the world so he wouldn't be able to forget about this evening, no matter how hard he'd try.

"want more?"

his eyes darken slightly, voice hoarse with lust, "that wouldn't be really... gentleman of me, hm?"

you smile, finding him amusing. "oh, but i'm proposing this to you, not the other way around. so...?" you whisper against his lips, "how it's gonna be, baby?"

this time he captures your lips in a kiss, wanting to show you how much he wants— no, craves you, hoping this is enough of a response.

a wave of heat washes over you, hands traveling under his shirt which steals another whine from matt. you had never been so turned on before in such a short amount of time, automatically starting to move your hips and grind down against him, feeling how hard he was beneath you. pride overwhelms you at the feeling of how much he's affected by you, the want for him even bigger than before.

his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. he can feel you moving on his lap, the friction driving him crazy. your tongue explores his mouth, lips clicking against his. his hands shaky on your body from the desire he felt. "you can touch me, matt..." you pant against his plump lips, pressing your clothed, soaked core against his dick harder.

"y'feel so good..." his eyes are glassy with lust as he looks up at you. his chest is heaving, and he bites his lip, trying to compose himself when he finally allows his hands to explore your body.

"mhm, i can feel how bad you want me," you keep grinding against him, the friction causing you both to whimper. "is really cute.... and hot— you know?"

"please—" his eyes flutter shut from pleasure, your hands teasing him just above the waistband of his jeans. "what is it, baby?" you bite back a smile at his desperate expression.

"just... i need you please— can you..." his breath is coming in ragged gasps now, and he feels both embarrassed and completely exhilarated. his hips rise slightly to meet yours, a natural response to the overwhelming sensation. his body aches for more contact, more friction, more of you.

"can i what? c'mon, you gotta ask nicely if you want something." you're teasing, torturing him purposely, enjoying how adorable he gets when his shyness takes over. "look at me, matt."

blushing intensely, he opens his eyes and stammers out, "can you... i mean, would you... with your mouth?" he immediately looks mortified at his own boldness, his cheeks flaming red as he quickly adds, "sorry, i didn't mean to presume—"

"i think you did mean it though," you smile softly, licking your lips. his words and the image that just popped up in your head makes your pussy pulse. "how can i say no when you're being such a good boy for me?" you press kisses to his neck just as he whines again, your hands already working on his belt. his eyes watching as his jeans and boxers get pushed down his legs. he gasps as the cool air hits his exposed lower half, his body trembling slightly. his dick twitches as you kneel on the mattress between his legs, looking at him in awe. "just relax."

he nods quickly, trying to calm himself. his chest is rising and falling rapidly, hands fumble anxiously with the hem of his shirt unsure what to do with them. is not like he was inexperienced, he was in a relationship before, but having you, the popular party girl that everyone wanted, between his legs was definitely making him more nervous than he would usually be.

you put your hair up into a messy ponytail, his body immediately tensing up. he can feel the blood rushing to his cock, making it throb with anticipation. he tries to relax his legs, spreading them wider to give you better access. you stop just above his tip, looking up at him with a smile at the messy state he was already in, even if you didn't start yet. "gonna say a magic word?"

he swallows hard, his blush deepens, "please."

his eyes dart between your face and his hard, leaking with precum dick, hardly believing this is really happening. but it feels real, when you give him a kitty lick before starting to suck on his tip. a strangled moan escapes matt's lips, his hips involuntarily twitching upwards. the sensation is electric, his hands fist in the sheets beneath him, grasping desperately for some form of anchor. "o-oh, fuck—"

your tongue is swirling around his tip teasingly, before you take him deeper, his eyes roll back in his head, breath catching in his throat. he can feel every ridge and curve of your mouth, the wet heat almost more than he can bear. a shaky whimper escapes him, hands slide up to tangle in your hair, gripping tightly as he fights the urge to buck his hips forward.

he was so big, the choking sounds echoing in the room, saliva dripping down your chin. hollowing your cheeks, you start bobbing your head up and down, nose brushing against his pelvis. "s-shit.... feels so good— mmmm, fu—ckkk--" his entire body shudders, he watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, completely captivated by the sight. the sounds alone are enough to make him dizzy with desire. his breathing becomes more ragged, mingling with the wet sounds of your mouth. "oh god..." he whimpers. you're breathing through your nose, focusing on his tip again, your hand working on the rest of him. the sensation combined with your mouth is incredible, almost too much to process. matt bites his lip hard, suppressing a loud moan, but it still escapes as more of a choked groan. "fuck, please—"

he was completely out of it, a big whining mess, his hips uncontrollably lifting upwards, his tip hitting the back of your throat. his toes curl as he feels the mounting pressure, his entire body tingling with exquisite tension while you suck on his dick like on a lollipop, being all messy with it, gagging every now and then. panting heavily, he tugs gently at your hair, "w-wait, m'gonna.... m'so close, wait—" you hum in approval, wanting to taste him on your tongue. it sends vibrations through him, another whimper escaping him. you speed up your movements, matt automatically starts thrusting up into your mouth as his orgasm approaches, "f-fuck, sorry, i.... i can't— shittt, gonna cum— can i... oh—"

he's lost at this point, his head threw back, a loud, unrestrained moan ripping from his throat as you resume your actions. his hips lift off the bed, pressing himself deeper into your mouth, getting another moan from you. the sight was hypnotizing, his flushed features, the way he tried to muffle his moans by chewing on his bottom lip. you were dripping, clenching around nothing just from watching him.

with a choked cry, his entire body convulses as he finds his release, pulse after pulse of ecstasy flooding through him. his fingers fist so tightly in your hair that he's vaguely aware it might hurt, but he can't seem to loosen his grip. you whimper around him, tasting him on your tongue and swallowing everything. your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip one more time before pulling out with a wet pop. his vision blurs, heart pounding in his chest. he lets go off your hair, your eyes meeting his, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. damn.

his face flushed with heat as he smiles, "holy fuck."

"holy fuck indeed," you lick your lips, the sight so intimate and erotic for him that he feels his spent dick twitch in response. "that was, like, amazing—" he mutters, still struggling to find his voice.

you chuckle, moving so now you were on top of him again, hands on each side of his head. "what a shame that we met so late," you say, running your hand through his hair, a shiver going down his spine.

"i was supposed to leave at midnight," he admits. your eyebrow raises, "oh really?" he nods, "yeah, not a fan of parties."

"well... i'm glad you didn't have the chance to leave then."

"me too." he pulls you into another desperate kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, getting a hum in surprise. he was clearly eager for more. your fast to roll your dress up around your waist, grabbing his hand and directing it between your legs. when he feels how soaked your panties were, he can't help but whimper again. "feel it, baby?" you break the kiss, looking at him, his eyes darken with lust. "that's allll because of you."

his gaze travels over your body, taking in the curves he's only ever imagined. he swallows hard, his voice hoarse with need. "please, i need you..."

"you're so cute when you beg," you smile biting down on your plump lip. removing your underwear, you position yourself just above his tip, letting him feel the wet warmth, teasing him mercilessly. matt whines softly, his body tensing with the need to thrust into you and finally feel you. "what was that, hm? tell me what you want, matt."

"need you... to ride me— please—"

"need me, hm? and how bad?"

he whines again, louder this time, his hips bucking slightly in an attempt to get him inside you. "so bad," he pants, his voice barely recognizable in his desperation. "please, please, please..." he chants, his voice cracking with need.

"gooood boy," you praise, his words getting you even wetter. wrapping your hand around his cock, you give him a few strokes before slowly sinking down on him. "begging so pretty— f-fuck...." the sudden feeling of your warm, tight pussy enveloping his aching dick is almost too much for matt to handle. he throws his head back, a loud, wordless whimper tearing from his throat as he's sheathed inside you, a moan leaving your lips as well at his reaction. "shit, you're so big—" you stay still to adjust, lifting your dress higher to be more comfortable. you feel his dick twitching inside you after your words. amused written all over your face when you look at him, "you like it, hm? who would've know you're so naughty...."

matt's hands tremble as they grip your hips, trying desperately to hold back the urge to grind into you. his breath comes in short, sharp bursts as he savors the exquisite tightness gripping him.

"feels good?" you slowly start moving, he nods his head weakly, words caught in his throat as he tries to speak around the lump formed by his swallowed moan. "mmm, holy shit, matt—" his cock is buried so deeply inside you that it makes you see stars for a moment. you crave more of him, so you start speeding up the pace.

"so... good..." he manages to rasp out, his eyes rolling back briefly before snapping forward to lock onto yours again. "you're...too much..."

"yeah? want me to stop?" you mock him a little bit, knowing that's the last thing he wants.

he shakes his head frantically, a sheepish grin spreading across his flushed face. "no, no...don't stop. i meant...fuck, you're just so tight— fuckkk, feels incredible." he bucks his hips slightly, emphasizing his enthusiasm, his nails dig into your hips, his body tensing as he tries to pull you down further onto him.

"you're doing perfect for me, baby—" you moan out, putting one hand on his chest as you start moving your hips harder, your attention drawn to his tattoos. the sight of his arm causes you to painfully clench around him, your pussy gripping him like a vice. he hisses at the feeling, it drives him wild. "shit, just like that—"

you both aren't able to hold back your moans, letting them spill out one after another. each thrust pushes you both into ecstasy, your hand on his chest the only thing anchoring him to reality. matt's hands slide up your sides, then down to your thighs, marveling the soft skin beneath his fingers.

matt notices the way your eyes are locked onto his tattoos and it makes his dick throb even harder inside you. "god, matt— mmhpp, oh my...." you lean forward, needing some balance as your legs start growing tired, your hands on each side of his head. he reaches up to your waist, guiding your movements as he lifts his hips to meet each thrust. "f-fuck— you're so beautiful..."

your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel it as well, which pushes him over the edge too. "gonna cum for me, pretty boy?" you choke out, looking down at him through half-open eyes.

"mhmm, fuck—" he pants, his own face contorted with pleasure. he sees the concentration on your face, the beads of sweat forming on your collarbone. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto him even harder. "s-so close... shiiit—"

"me too," you whine into his ear. "fuck..." his grip tightens on your waist as his release builds. his movements become more urgent, more desperate. "tell me... mm— tell me how you want it, sweetheart—" he knows he won't last much longer, not with how perfectly you're stretching around him.

"inside me—"

"y-yeah?" his voice breaking as he feels you clench around him again. "you want me to fill you up?"

"mhmmm—" you moan just as he whimpers again, what pushes you into a state of bliss, euphoria consumes you as your orgasm crashes down over you, your hips stuttering.

once he feels you creaming around him, and the pretty — mesmerizing moans, oh he's too far gone. matt's control snaps, he buries himself as deep as possible inside you, his hips jerking as he unleashes a torrent of cum deep within your spasming pussy. one last moan leaves him, his vision blurring as his release seems to go on forever. "fuckkkk—"

after you both ride out your orgasms, your hips come to a stop, his hands splaying out against your lower back as he pulls you flush against him. matt can feel his release slowly leaking out of you and dripping down his thighs. your breath against his neck tickles his skin.

"oh my god," he breathes out, making you chuckle and you lift up your head, seeing his flushed face. so cute. "made me see fuckin' stars, holy shit."

you laugh again, getting off to lay down beside him, head on matt's shoulder, his heart skips a beat at that. "you're funny," you say.

he wraps his hand around your waist again, not really ready to let go yet. "m'serious."

"okay, mr serious," you roll your eyes. "doesn't mean you aren't funny. and still a gentleman."

"getting into your pants before first date isn't really gentleman of me," he smiles shyly as you look up at him.

"i got into your pants," you correct him. "you gonna get into mine after that first date."

"there's gonna be one?"

"oh, definitely."

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sloaneispunk · 13 hours ago

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“betrayal at its cost”

dark!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you

when in-ho could no longer keep up with his facade, he had to choose between gi-hun or you

──── ●▲■ ────

part one

“i think the control room is right above us! we just need to push past the guards, can you buy us some time?!” gi-hun shouted over the roar of gunfires.

“are you sure? what if you can’t find it?” you asked, slumping behind a wall as you reloaded your gun with the last bit of ammunition you had.

in-ho watched closely as you carefully held the now fully loaded gun. he noticed your entire being trembling, shaking even, with adrenaline or fear, your eyes were filled with regret as the team fought hard against the guards.

“jung-bae! come with me, the rest of you should stay here and help y/n and in-ho!”

“but we’re almost out of ammunition! they’re going to notice soon!” hyun-ju stated, noticing the last few rounds everyone had.

everyone sat in silence for a brief moment. it was as though the reality of the situation had just hit. nobody had any idea how they were going to outsmart the guards, let alone the front man.

just then, you leaned forward towards a guards motionless body not too far away. in-ho instinctively shielded your body from the guards which somehow stopped firing their guns at that exact moment.

it was strange, but there was no time to argue.

you reached inside the pocket of the guard, fumbling around before you pulled your hand out, just one round of ammunition for the guns in hand.

“i think they all have an extra round in their jackets! we just have to head to the room where we came from, get the ammo and we’ll be able to push them further back enough to reach the control room.” you said as everyone nodded.

in-ho however, looked at you with a small glimmer in his eyes. maybe you were smarter than he thought, he loved it. but then again came a question, how will he deceive you when the time comes for him to be the frontman again?

“i’ll go!” dae-ho exclaimed, raising his hand high in the air.

“i’ll go with yo-”

“no. you’re staying here.” in-ho cut you off.

“but-”

“no, dae-ho will be okay. you should stay and help us.” in-ho argued, making you frown in confusion.

“come back as soon as you can dae-ho, we’re all counting on you.” player 246 said as dae-ho nodded.

with that, dae-ho, gi-hun and jung-bae were off, leaving you panting heavily as the gunfires refused to cease.

“you’re shaking.” in-ho stated, taking your hand.

“i’m okay, it’s just the adrenaline.” you tried to play it off, pulling your hand away when a bullet shot right past your shoulder.

──── ●▲■ ────

part two

what gi-hun wasn’t expecting was the number of guards who were expecting them. he and jung-bae had no choice but to take over behind walls of a staircase where they had nowhere else to go.

“what do we do, gi-hun? we’re running out of ammo!” jung-bae shouted, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“we wait for dae-ho to come back. he’ll give us the ammo we need and we can get to the control room!” gi-hun replied as he picked up the walkie talkie. ��in-ho! as soon as dae-ho gets back, get him to come give us the ammo, we don’t have much time!”

“got it.” in-ho replied.

“i don’t think they can last! i’ll go up and help them, you guys wait for dae-ho!” he instructed the group. “y/n and you come with me.” he said, pointing to another player.

the three of you grabbed your guns and headed up the way gi-hun went. somehow, in-ho didn’t look like he was afraid at all. he didn’t bother inspecting each corner to check if it was safe and he knew where every turn was.

something was definitely wrong with this and you knew it.

when you found gi-hun and jung-bae, they were hanging on for dear life. there were way too many guards up on the staircase for them to take down alone.

“in-ho, you’re here! where’s the ammo?” gi-hun asked.

“dae-ho hasn’t came back, i figured we come help you in the meantime.” he replied, easily shaking off the fact that he had just abandoned the plan.

“i think i saw another way behind on the way here, we should check it out. we might be able to take the guards down from there.” you explained as gi-hun nodded.

“stay safe, keep the walkie’s on… in-ho, take this.”gi-hun took his last round of ammo he had, giving it to in-ho.

──── ●▲■ ────

part three

“you sure you know the way?” in-ho asked as you led the way as you insisted. “i don’t think it’s that way, my dear.”

“i swear it is!” you insisted, turning the corner but again, you were met with a wall.

“you’re cute. it’s this way.” in-ho said, pulling you back from the way you came from.

“how do you know?”

“i’m just more observant than you.” he shrugged.

believe or not, in-ho was somehow right. he led you right behind the guards that threatened gi-hun and jung-bae.

you took your place carefully behind a wall, aiming your gun, so did in-ho and the other guy.

but just as you were about to take a shot, an even louder one rang loudly. you dropped your gun and dropped to the floor, your back slamming against the wall as you covered your ears. the shot was near, it wasn’t something aimed at the guards further up.

when the ringing came to a stop, you checked yourself, seeing if it was a shot that hit you. when you were clear you looked at in-ho.

his demeanour had changed, he had a cold look on his face, the same cheerful in-ho gone. looking down, you saw his hand…

the gun in hand, pointed straight at your fellow player while now laid on the floor in a puddle of blood, choking.

“in-ho?” you managed to utter out, body growing cold in fear of the man standing in front of you.

“yes?” he replied, drawing back his gun, eyes not meeting yours.

“w-what… did someone shoot-? how?” tears were now forming in your eyes as you crawled towards the body, pressing your hand against the man’s wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

“y/n, please step away from him.” in-ho asked, voice calmer than ever.

when you didn’t budge, he asked once more, extending his hand out to you. “please y/n?”

you slowly moved away from the body, taking his hand.

it was so wrong, you knew that he did it. he had double-crossed you, but why were you still being drawn in by him? you couldn’t help but follow whatever he asked you to.

“good girl, now come here.” in-ho smiled, wrapping his hands around you, holding you tightly in a hug. he kissed the top of your head as you let out shorts breaths.

he took the walkie talkie from his pocket, bringing it up, slightly pulling away from you.

you took a step back, but in-ho held on tightly to your arm.

“young-il? what’s going on? did you take them down?” you heard gi-hun over the walkie.

you opened your mouth to call for help but in-ho moved quickly, bringing his hand from your arm to your mouth.

“gi-hun…” in-ho said into the walkie, faking an exasperated voice. “…they got us, i’m sorry… it’s over.”

he then leaned down towards the poor player choking on the ground on his own blood. the gurgles of his blood sounded so ghastly.

“no! young-il! young-il? what’s going on?! what do you mean?!” gi-hun shouted, his voice being echoed throughout the stairway.

then in-ho changed the channel of the walkie talkie.

‘wrap it up.’

you struggled under his grip. you weren’t sure what to do, but you knew in-ho was not the man he was anymore. this man was a monster, a betrayer at it’s finest.

“are you scared?” in-ho asked, cocking his head to the side.

you nodded.

“but i’m still the same young-il. the young-il you trust, the one you love.” he smiled. “let’s go, we have so much to do together!”

#inho x you #in ho x reader #inho x reader #hwang inho #in ho #young il #lee byun hun x you #lee byun hun x reader #squidgame #squidgame season 2 #squid game #frontman x you #frontman x reader #frontman #front man

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smurphette98 · 2 days ago

Text

So, I did this not with a villain, but with an NPC from a D&D campaign I’m running on a day where the group didn’t meet. It’s under the cut if you wanna give it a read!

(CW: discussion of death, resurrection, the afterlife, and murder)

Subreddit: r/relationshipadvice

Title: I haven’t seen my husband in 5 years (because I was dead) and I just found out that he left our daughter with his mother for that whole time.

Posted by u/Lovemordian

Apologies in advance if my Common isn’t great; it isn’t my first language.

I (21F) was recently resurrected by a party member of my husband’s (now 26M) after dying in his arms five years ago. Admittedly, the experience was wonderful, since I had always hoped that magic was real and not just the stuff of children’s stories, and I am not upset at living once more. The afterlife is…well, it’s beyond what I need to discuss here.

The issue I am having is this: while I was dead, I was comforted in the knowledge that our daughter (now 8F) was not going to grow up completely parentless even if I could not be with her. However, when I saw her again after returning to life, she mentioned that her grandmother, my husband’s mother, had been caring for her this whole time. She did not grow up with her father, and the one thought that had kept me sane while wandering the fields of the waiting became a lie.

He says that he left her behind with his parents to ensure that no one would use her to pressure him, that the Flesh Collectors wouldn’t use her as bait to get to him. Though I understand the logic of this, I can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. It feels like he’s trying to be the man he was 5 years ago, but I know he’s gone through much in my absence and I wish he would just be honest with me about it. Does anyone have any advice for how to talk to him about this? In some ways, it does feel a bit as if I’m approaching him as a stranger once more.

Update: Thank you to all who replied with your advices and your recommendations. I do want to answer a few of the questions I saw most frequently:

1) Apparently, he tried to avenge my murder after the judge had been paid off, stealing a highly advanced prototypical weapon designed by a classmate of ours (27 NB) to do it. This is why the Flesh Collectors were after him and why he apparently joined a guild for thieves and assassins that, if I understood him right, was run by a staff member at the university? I don’t know; he seems more comfortable speaking Common than Lamordian, so I may be misunderstanding things.

2) Flesh Collectors are sort of like a police force, but more than anything they are scavengers who harvest body parts that scientists need for their work. The “ethical” ones wait until a body is dead to harvest. The majority of them are not ethical.

Now, onto the update: I had the open conversation with my husband that so many of you recommended. I just asked him to tell me what kinds of things had happened while I was dead, and he was honest with me, just as I always remember him being.

While he was on the run for his vengeance, he fell in with the guild I mentioned and did “less than honorable things” to put aside money for our daughter’s future. At first, I thought he was implying that he had sold intimate favors, but he clarified that it was killing people. He did put aside quite a bit, over 10,000 gp, so I do think it was well-meant. And our daughter seems to hold no resentment toward him, so I don’t suppose I should either. For anyone out there who has been resurrected after a while, is this distance I’m feeling just a symptom of that, or is it something I should be concerned about? Perhaps I should speak to my mother-in-law, as she has always been a source of wisdom in my life. I don’t think I will need to update further, but if more developments happen, I will be sure to let you all know.

if you're trying to get into the head of your story's antagonist, try writing an "Am I the Asshole" reddit post from their perspective, explaining their problems and their plans for solving them. Let the voice and logic come through.

#d&d #just DM things #these characters are so sweet I love them so much #Odysseus and Penelope in Epic vibes

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thebubblesareevil · 1 day ago

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Who’s the bad guy here, really?

(This is pretty rushed, but I completely forgot about this and didn't want to abandon it. Hope you like it)

Danny was tired.

It had been 3 months since he ran away from home and joined the league…well technically he joined the JR league. Apparently, once the league realized he was actually a 15 year old, they decided that MAYBE they shouldn't have him fighting Bizarro on his own.

Danny didn’t get it, but they got him enrolled in school and made sure he wouldn’t miss too many classes so that was a bonus.

That was about a month ago and Danny was certain the main team was mad at him for lying about being a half ghost. He thought he made some real friends before they moved him to the Jr squad, but no one was answering him.

Any hero that DID answer him always gave the same excuse.

“I’m sorry Danny, I’d love to hang out but we have to deal with this new villain duo!”

What’s worse is that any enquiry about the so-called villains was greeted with nervous glances and swift retreats.

(Danny was sure there were no new villain, the team would have heard about them by now)

The team did their best to cheer him after every evasion, but it really wasn't helping.

He did this to himself, but that was fine. His family was safe and that's all that mattered.

Three months ago, the GIW launched an all out war against phantom in amity park. Anyone that was suspected of having anything to do with ghosts was taken in for questioning and wouldn't come back for days. They even started to get aggressive towards his parents after they started advocating for Phantom.

So Danny did the only thing he could.

He left, as publicly as possible, Danny ran away from the only home he had ever known to protect his family.

And now his friends had ditched him because he lied.

Danny felt like shit.

---------

"This is the third attack on a League base in 2 weeks." Batman said sternly to the heroes surrounding the table. He pressed a button.

A holograph appeared over the table depicting 2 Villains carrying large weapons, destroying everything in their wake. The 2 were incredibly resilient. The larger of the two was taking hits from wildcat and the smaller tossed canary across the room, completely ignoring her screams.

Both had been stationed at the outpost to guard against these exact 2 villains, and both were still recovering.

Their threat level was raised, now it was their turn to step in.

-------

Danny dragged himself out of bed as he got up early for training. He heard a knock at the door.

"Come in." He shouted as he put on his shirt.

Conner walked in, scowling as he saw some of the scars littering Danny's chest.

"You ready? We're training with Batman today."

Danny scoffed. "Ready? No. No one's ready for Batman, I am excited though.

The two headed towards the dining room to eat before training when suddenly the alarms blared. They rushed to the comm room, meeting up with M'gann on the way.

"What's going on?!" She asked, bracing herself as the base shook.

"No idea, whatever it is its not good."

As they rushed into the comm room they greeted by the sight of a woman fighting hand to hand with Batman. Superman was on the floor covered in green goop while a large man was getting ready to toss Green Arrow across the room.

The teens stood in shock. Though only one spoke.

Well, maybe spoke wasn't the right word.

"MOM?!?!? DAD?!?!" Danny yelled.

The man spun around suddenly, casually tossing green arrow across the room.

"DANNO!!! MADDIE ITS DANNY!!!"

The man raced over, only to be cut off by the Flash blocking his path.

"Danny, run! We'll hold them off, just get out of here!"

Danny stood there dumbfounded.

His dad on the other hand, wasn't.

"You stay away from my son you damn creep!" He shouted as the Flash charged him, somehow not noticing the man pull out...a baseball bat?

Danny winced as flash got hit with the Fenton anti-creep stick.

"Dad! Stop! They're my friends!" He tried to placate his dad.

"Friends don't convince you to run away from home to join a cult!" He then noticed the other two teens. "Holy Fudge! MADDIE THERES MORE KIDS!!!" He shouted as his wife held off the creep from Gotham.

"Dad! The League didn't make me leave! And it isn't a cult!"

This made the man pause.

"I left to protect you guys! The GIW was gonna come for you, so I led them away! I only joined the league so I could keep helping people!" Danny yelled.

The orange-clad man stopped, giving his son a sad look.

"It's not your job to protect us son, it's our job to protect you." He said picking his son up and wrapping him in a bear hug.

Conner just stood there confused as M'gann clapped and grinned out the outcome.

"Now can you tell mom to stop trying to mace Batman?" Danny asked when his dad put him down. The two turned to the fighting duo.

"Let's give them 5 more minutes. Your mom hasn't had this much fun since she ditched that cult in Asia."

(Feel free to take this idea and run with it. I like the idea that the fentons are a force of nature that defies explanation..but Maddie definitely stole their early ecto samples from the lazarus pit)

#dc x dp #good parents jack and maddie #short but sweet #mistaken villains #brain vomit

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benkeibear · 9 hours ago

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『 AITA: For accidentally sending nudes to my sons best friend? 』

☼ synopsis: Toji accidentally sends nudes to his sons best friend... but was it really an accident?

☼ character: Toji Fushiguro

☼ reader: female | AFAB

☼ wc: 2033

☼ cw: phone sex, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Toji in his 40s), masturbation, pet names: baby/doll/bunny, mentions of pussy eating and p in v

☼ notes: a sudden need for dilf Toji overcame my horny brain... I won't apologize 😭

[1 New Message, 3 Images Attached]

Your head piped up when your phone vibrated, your focus instantly vanished when you saw his name - Toji. Seeing his name on your phone was a rare sight, he only ever texted you when Megumi didn't show up at night or when you asked him to pick you up from god knows where because it was far too dangerous to walk home at a late hour. Hell, at this point you almost called him dad with how many times he showed up for you or the way he treats you like his own.

Curiously you opened the messages to see why on earth that man texted you at almost 1 am, but your phone dropped to the floor and your jaw almost joined the device. You pinched the bridge of your nose and picked the phone up again. This surely wasn't what you were thinking...right?

A shaky breath left your lips when you unlocked your phone again, only to be met with Toji Fushiguro's cock splayed all over the screen. It wasn't even tasteful, just your average dick in hand while jerking off picture. Unsure if you should even stare at it the way you did, you swiped left to be met with a similar picture, but it was the short video that followed that left you breathless. He sounded so frustrated, angrily moving his fist up and down his thick shaft, his foreskin slightly shifting over the tip each time. It was hypnotic and after the fifth time of watching the eight second long video, you had to close it, your pussy aching from neglect, but your brain told you not to indulge. You really shouldn't touch yourself to nudes of your best friend's dad, now should you? This surely was a mistake and it almost made you chuckle, the thought of Toji going on dates and probably scaring these poor women off with his attitude alone.

Biting your lip, you decided that it couldn't hurt to indulge, worst case, you could blame him for it - he's the older one, after all, and should know better. Your clothes were quickly discarded before you took a few tasteful nudes, which you immediately sent to him. They were really tasteful, nothing too revealing and most importantly, not showing your face.

[1 New Message, 1 Video Attached]

With a shaky breath, you opened the video, your other hand gently rolling one of your nipples before traveling down south while the video played on a low volume.

“That's my good girl,” his voice rasps into the microphone, praising you for indulging, but his voice almost gets drowned out by the view, his cock was painfully hard, veins visibly popping and his grip was tight as he worked on his lubed up cock. The view once again left you hypnotized, his big hands looked small when he held his cock and it left your pussy clenching around nothing as your thoughts ran wild. Would you even be able to take him? He surely would rip you clean into two pieces with how huge his cock is.

Your pussy was absolutely drenched by now, fingers gently circling your clit and occasionally dipping the tip of a finger inside of your entrance to tease yourself.

“Bet you want me to fuck you dumb on my cock. Make you forget your own fucking name, bunny,” he groaned, a low moan following after the pet name that had your clit throbbing. You wanted nothing more than to hear this moan directly next to your ear when he pushes your head into the pillows and fucks you until you're a babbling mess for him - for your best friend's dad.

“Fuck- I can only imagine what your little cunt would look like stretched around me right now… so fucking tight and messy.” His hips buck up to meet the thrusts of his hand and you can see his abs ripple beneath his skin. He was right. Your pussy is a mess right now.

“Show me that messy pussy I love so much, baby. Let me see,” he encourages you to send him more of you, which is where the video ends.

A shiver runs down your spine and your finger stills against your sweet spot, but you don't pull it out just yet, contemplating if you should go further than you already did.

Your needy cunt clenched around your finger, letting you know that you fucking need to see more of Toji, need to see him come undone in order to earn your own release. These thoughts won't let you think straight, so you angle your camera and hit record when you rub your little clit just before dipping two fingers into your messy cunt. The squelching noises are obscene when you start curling them against your sweet spot and at this point, you can't hold back mewls and small whimpers anymore, practically whining his name and begging for his cock like a bitch in heat. Just as you were about to release, you pulled your fingers out, edging yourself and sending the little video to Toji.

[Message: Sent]

[Message: Read]

In order to keep yourself dancing along the edge, you ran your fingers over your clit with feather light touches, just waiting for him to type or send more of your newest addiction - his cock.

Toji stroked his dick in time with the way you pump your fingers into your cunt, fast and needy, but when you start whining for him, he almost loses control, his balls suddenly feeling tight and his urge to release getting almost unbearable… until he catches a glimpse of your face. It was just a fraction of a second, but he would recognize your face everywhere.

His hand stilled right away, his orgasm ruined, but his cock twitched greedily.

“Fuck,” he cursed out and locked his phone before running his hand over his face. Without wasting another moment, he wiped the remnants of lube on his hand off on his discarded t-shirt and dialed your number.

When you finally picked up, it was just silent on both sides, neither of you sure what to say, so he puts on the big boy pants and speaks up first.

“That wasn't meant for you,” it sounded like he scolded you, as if you invaded his privacy when it was his fault to begin with.

“I should have paid better attention, sorry.” An actual apology followed seconds later and you could hear that his heart and mind racing equally as fast as yours, although he would never admit to it. He was met with silence once again.

“You shouldn't have sent me anything back. I would have deleted everything if you would have just…” He began to explain that he would have never asked this of you, trying his best to be a proper adult here, when in reality he has thought about bending your cute ass over the kitchen counter quite a few times.

Toji can't even deny it at this point. He likes his women a lot younger and you're no exception here, even though his son is your best friend, so what? There was a reason he stopped talking, though, a little whimper on your end caught him off guard.

“Are you fucking getting off to this?” He asked, but it sounded more accusatory, although you can hear his smirk, you know him well enough that you know that he's just trying to be that stern adult when in reality he likes to think with that big cock of his.

Get a grip. She is young enough to be your fucking daughter. Toji tried to hold himself back, but at this point it was like a tightly coiled spring, the more pressure applied, the more inevitable he would snap - so he chuckled.

His chuckle sounded almost mocking, but it turned you on even more. The fact that he could hear just how pathetic you were, how desperately you craved him to stretch you open on his cock and fuck you until you could neither sit nor walk comfortably for the next days to come. Two of your fingers slipped into your dripping pussy once again, a silent gasp escaping you at the light stretch.

“You thinkin’ of my fingers fucking you, bunny?” He mused out and you heard a lid click shut on his line, followed by a small hiss. The lube felt like fucking ice against his rock hard length, but he needed it, wanting to imagine your little cunt wrapped around him and not his shitty hands. You mewled in reply, but it wasn't good enough for him.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you thinkin’ of,” his voice sounded raw, the hunger for you dripped off of every word, and you could already feel your walls flutter. The sheer perversion and the taboo of this alone were enough to have you on edge, but the way he talked to you drove you to the brink of insanity.

“Y-yes,” you whimpered and your voice cracked in such an embarrassing way, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Toji could hear how needy you were for him - not knowing if you've ever been fucked properly or if your fingers were all that your cunt ever got stuffed with - he took pity on your whining self.

“Come for me, baby, let me hear you,” he encouraged you to finally cave in, to let the knot that has formed in your tummy snap. Heaven knows he was just as close with how desperate you were for him, whining his name so sweetly as you came around your little fingers. He could practically see it, your toes curling and your mouth hung open as you tried to close your thighs, fingers still curling by the sound and he wanted nothing more than to have you clench around his cock like that - you'd grip him like a vice and he would never let you go until you're dripping with his cum and -

“Fuck-” Toji’s chest rumbled with a groan as he painted his defined abs with small shots of ivory, a few drops running down his hand as he squeezed his sensitive tip a little harder than necessary just for it to sting with overstimulation.

There was silence between the two of you for a few minutes, heavy breathing slowly evening out and the haze of hormones wearing off, leaving you to think about what just happened between the both of you.

“Are you okay?” He eventually asked, actually worried that you might regret this.

“Hmm, yeah,” you whisper softly, and it felt like a whole entire mountain fell off his chest.

“Do you… regret it, doll?” He proceeded to ask you as he wiped the cum away with the discarded T-shirt before tossing it to the ground.

“Not really,” you giggle softly and shake your head. “I just regret that it wasn't actually your fingers,” you sound teasing with an edge of sincerity and it was a breath of fresh air to him. He never thought you would be this naughty.

“Naughty… Perhaps I can change that next time I drive you home,” he mused, letting you know that this won't ever happen in his home.

“Yeah… let's not tell Megs anything about that, okay?” You ask shy, the guilt was slowly eating you alive from keeping such a secret, but Megumi wouldn't like it much to know that you're fucking his dad. He would probably never speak to you again should he find out.

“That boy won't find it out from me anyway,” Toji reassured you, never telling his son anything about his love life to begin with - let alone about the women he ends up in bed with.

“But who knows. Perhaps I'll have you as a dessert one day. You just gotta be real quiet, he muses, the playfulness practically dripping from his voice and you rubbed your thighs together.

“Don't say that, Mr. Fushiguro. I might hold you to it,” you chuckle as your finger gently glides over your slick folds once again.

“Maybe you can tell me about all the things you intend to do to me.”...

Networks @pixelcafe-network @houseofsolisoccasum

#-ˋˏ ༻luma's musings #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #dilf toji #💫hotter than the sun💫

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cherryxbooo · 2 days ago

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Nothing lasts forever

Summary: Being a dedicated McLaren engineer with a cold demeanor means one thing: judgment. Trusting and opening up to a certain driver leads to a bigger mistake.

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: Angst

I had always dreamed of working for McLaren.

The team’s history, the legacy, the championships, everything about it had captivated me since I was a kid.

I’d spent years idolizing the drivers, the engineers, the people who made it all happen.

And then, there I was.

Standing in the paddock, a part of the machine I had once only watched from the sidelines.

The air felt thick with history, with success, with the roar of engines and the buzz of anticipation.

It was everything I had ever wanted.

But, as much as I tried to convince myself it was everything I had dreamed of, there was something that gnawed at me.

There was an ache deep in my chest that no amount of triumph could soothe.

I had arrived, but the reality? The reality was a constant weight on my shoulders that I wasn’t prepared for.

I’d imagined walking into the garage, feeling the excitement of the team, and being welcomed as one of their own.

But instead, there were whispers.

Quiet, cutting whispers that followed me like a shadow.

I could feel the eyes on my back, the scrutiny, the judgment.

It didn’t matter how many hours I put in, how many sacrifices I made.

The rumors about me spread faster than the engine roar on the track.

I wasn’t the “right” kind of person.

Too focused, too ambitious, too cold.

Too much of everything that didn’t fit their ideal.

And it stung.

Every word. Every glance. Every offhand comment.

I tried to tell myself to ignore it. That they were wrong, that I had a place here because I earned it.

But each passing day, each race weekend, it felt harder to believe that.

The weight of their expectations, their judgments, it was like suffocating under a blanket of misunderstanding.

The worst part was when the comments came from the people I thought I could trust.

From the people I worked alongside. The people I shared ideas with.

How many times had I stayed late, just to make sure everything was perfect? Just to be sure I was giving it my all?

And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

The world outside the track didn’t care about my dedication.

They cared about who I was, who they thought I was, and who I wasn’t.

It felt like every tiny detail of my life was scrutinized, dissected, and criticized.

So, I built walls.

Higher and higher, until they were towering around me. I kept my head down, kept my focus laser-sharp, kept to myself.

No one was going to see the cracks forming inside.

No one would ever know how often I lay awake at night, replaying everything, questioning my worth, wondering if all those whispers were true.

Was I too cold? Too intense? Too much of something that no one could accept?

Could they see me as I truly was, or was I just a puzzle piece that didn’t fit the picture they had in mind?

Then came Oscar.

The new guy, the fresh-faced rookie with that infectious energy.

He had that spark of hope, that belief in things I had lost along the way. He didn’t see the walls I built.

He didn’t seem to care about the rumors. To him, I was just another teammate. Another person to work with.

He didn’t judge me for how I carried myself, didn’t dismiss me for my focus. Instead, he laughed with me.

He challenged me in the best ways, without making me feel like an outsider.

For a while, it felt like maybe, just maybe, there was someone who didn’t see me through that lens of judgment.

Someone who saw me.

Oscar didn’t care about my reputation or the harsh words spoken behind my back.

He saw the work, the effort. And for the first time in a long time, I felt... like I mattered.

We started talking more.

Late-night debriefs, sitting alone after everyone else had gone to bed, dissecting the race, talking about what went wrong and what we could have done better.

I listened to him, really listened.

He told me about his journey to Formula 1, about his struggles to prove himself, about his dreams.

And in turn, I opened up. I shared my frustrations. My doubts. I talked about the battles I fought every day just to be here, just to be seen.

I never expected him to understand, but he did.

He didn’t judge.

He listened.

One night, after a particularly brutal race weekend, we found ourselves alone in the garage.

The others had already left for their rooms, and the garage was eerily quiet, save for the hum of the equipment.

I was staring at the car, my mind a whirlwind of calculations and what-ifs.

Oscar walked up to me, leaning against the tool chest, arms crossed, his usual easy smile softened.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.

I didn’t turn to him immediately.

I didn’t trust myself to speak.

“I just... I just can’t stop thinking about what went wrong. There were so many little things that could’ve been fixed. If I had just—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted, his voice firm but not harsh.

“You’re one of the best at what you do. Don’t let one bad weekend define you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Easier said than done, right?”

He chuckled softly, pushing himself off the tool chest and walking closer to me.

“I get it. But you can’t carry that weight on your own. You’ve got a team here. Me included.”

The sincerity in his voice hit me harder than I expected.

I finally looked up at him, and for the first time, I saw not just the rookie but someone who genuinely cared.

Someone who wanted to help. It was almost too much to take in.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he added quietly, almost as if he was afraid of scaring me away.

I swallowed hard, feeling something stir inside me, something I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

Hope.

I nodded, unsure of how to respond. “I... I know. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes softening.

“But you don’t have to have all the answers, all the time. Sometimes, it’s okay to lean on others.”

His voice lowered.

“Especially if that means leaning on me.”

I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, a sensation I hadn’t allowed myself to experience in so long.

Maybe it was okay to let someone in.

Maybe Oscar was the one person who could help me see things differently.

The next few days were full of more small moments that made my walls tremble.

We found ourselves in those quiet spaces between races, just talking.

I’d laugh at his dry humor, and he’d listen as I explained things I thought only made sense in my head.

He didn’t rush me. He didn’t expect anything from me except honesty.

One evening, as we sat on the pit wall, watching the sunset after another long practice session, he nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be the ice queen,” he said with a teasing grin,

“you’re actually kind of fun to hang out with.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips.

“I’m not that bad, am I?”

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think it over.

“Maybe just a little. But that’s what makes it fun.” He nudged me again, this time making me laugh out loud.

It was a soft, genuine moment.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to feel it, really feel it.

The connection we were building was something I didn’t expect, something that was slowly chipping away at the walls I had so carefully crafted.

Oscar was breaking through, piece by piece. And it scared me. But in the best way possible.

But nothing lasts forever right?

The morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting long, amber-hued shadows over the paddock.

The air was still cool, with a slight breeze stirring the flags and team banners fluttering gently in the wind.

The hum of the pit lane was just starting to pick up as teams were making their final preparations for the day’s race.

Oscar and Lando stood by the car, both immersed in the quiet but urgent task of fine-tuning the machine that would carry them into the competition.

Oscar, his focus unwavering, leaned over the rear wing, adjusting a setting on the aerodynamics.

His fingers moved with practiced precision, checking measurements, recalibrating.

He didn’t take his eyes off the components as he made the final tweaks.

The team relied on him to deliver his best performance, and he wouldn’t let them down.

Lando, on the other hand, leaned casually against the car, arms crossed, watching Oscar work.

There was an easy-going air about him, a stark contrast to the intensity radiating from Oscar.

Lando's eyes followed his teammate’s every move with a small, amused smile on his lips.

It wasn’t that Lando wasn’t focused; it was just that he had a different way of working, more laid back, like everything was under control even if it wasn’t.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke, breaking the quiet concentration.

“I have to admit,” he said, his tone light but thoughtful, “Y/n’s not as bad as I thought.”

Oscar glanced up from his task, a small, surprised smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah? I’ve noticed that too. She’s... unique.”

Lando chuckled, nudging him playfully with his elbow.

“Unique, huh? You mean cold and distant?”

he teased, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

Oscar’s expression softened, and he straightened up from the car, wiping his hands on his overalls as he met Lando’s eyes.

His smile faltered for a second, but only for a moment.

“She’s not cold,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious.

“She’s just... guarded. And I think once you get to know her, you’ll see a different side.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, and took a step toward him, crossing his arms as he leaned in slightly.

“Really? You’ve spent a lot of time with her, huh? I didn’t think you’d put up with her cold demeanor. I mean, how do you even manage it? She’s like a brick wall sometimes.”

Oscar’s fingers tightened on the tools he was holding, but he didn’t let the tension show on his face.

He took a breath before speaking. “It’s not like that. She’s actually very sweet once you get past the walls she’s built.”

His voice softened, as if speaking about something fragile.

“There’s more to her than people realize. People don’t take the time to see that.”

Lando frowned, narrowing his eyes as he stared at Oscar, clearly unconvinced.

“Sweet? Dude, you’ve got to be kidding. I don’t know if I’m buying that. I mean, have you seen how she reacts to people? Most of the time, it’s like she’s trying to push everyone away. She doesn't smile, doesn't really talk unless she has to.”

Oscar hesitated, the flicker of unease in his chest threatening to break through, but he pushed it down.

He didn’t want to let Lando’s skepticism affect his thoughts about Y/n.

He could feel something real there, something that couldn’t be captured by just looking at the surface.

“I think you’re wrong,” Oscar said, his voice firm, though the unease lingered at the edge of his words.

“She’s just... been through a lot. I can see it in her eyes. She’s been hurt before, but she’s not who people think she is. She just needs someone to understand her.”

Lando’s face darkened slightly, his expression hardening as he stepped closer, his voice lowering to a more serious tone.

“You’re really going to let her fool you, huh? What if she’s just using you, Oscar? What if she’s trying to win you over for something, like fame, or to get information out of you? People like her, they’re good at manipulating others. They know how to get what they want, and you might just be her latest target.”

Oscar’s pulse quickened at Lando’s words. His grip on the tools tightened until his knuckles went white.

His initial instinct was to push back, to tell Lando that he didn’t know Y/n like he did, but the words hit a little too close to home.

He tried to control the rising heat in his chest, not wanting to let it spill over.

“No,” Oscar finally said, his voice quieter, though the defensive edge was still there.

“I don’t believe that. She’s not like that. You don’t know her the way I do.”

Lando’s gaze shifted, his brow furrowing as he leaned in closer, his tone shifting to something more insistent, more urgent.

“Come on, man. I’m just looking out for you. You’re still new here. She’s smart, and she’s got a way of getting people to like her, but it’s all for a reason. Maybe she’s just trying to get close to you for some advantage. I’m just trying to warn you before you get too deep in. You should keep an eye on her.”

Oscar felt a tightening in his chest, a flicker of doubt threatening to cloud his judgment.

He wanted to trust Y/n, to believe that the connection they had was real, but Lando’s words were like a seed planted in the back of his mind, something he couldn’t ignore.

He shook his head, trying to shake off the feeling.

“I don’t think I need to be worried about her,” Oscar replied, his voice firming again, though his hands were still clenched.

“She’s been nothing but professional with me, and I trust her. I’m not going to let something like this ruin that.”

Lando sighed, his posture relaxing just a fraction, though his concern was still evident.

“I hope you’re right, mate,” he said, his voice quiet but serious.

“Just keep your eyes open. You might be seeing things through rose-colored glasses right now, but trust me, people like her don’t change easily. Don’t let yourself get hurt.”

Before Oscar could respond, the team was called for practice, the urgency of the situation pushing the conversation aside.

Both drivers were pulled into the whirlwind of final checks and preparations for the race.

But even as they walked toward the garage, Oscar couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that Lando’s words had left behind.

He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but the doubt lingered, simmering beneath the surface.

He caught a glimpse of Y/n as they made their way to their cars, and for a moment, he found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, Lando was right.

Could she really be hiding something?

Or was it just the fear of getting too close to someone who had built walls around herself for so long?

Oscar didn’t know, but what he did know was that he wanted to figure it out, he couldn’t just dismiss her like that.

He took a deep breath and forced the thought away.

The race was about to begin, and there was no room for distractions now.

But as they took their positions for practice, Oscar couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that now danced at the edge of his mind.

Later that afternoon,

after the chaos of the post-race debrief, I was given a simple task, one that I had done countless times before.

I was asked to grab some papers from the drivers’ room that had been left behind after a last-minute meeting with Oscar.

It's an easy. Simple. Routine. Right?

I pushed the door open to the driver's room, the quiet atmosphere inside making me feel alone for some reason.

I started sifting through the papers on the desk, the disarray mirroring the mess in my head.

Coffee cups, race schedules, notes from the meeting, all scattered in a haphazard way.

Then, my hand brushed against something, and before I could react, I heard the unmistakable sound of a phone hitting the floor.

A loud thud.

I froze.

Oscar’s phone.

My heart skipped a beat as I bent down quickly, my fingers shaking slightly as I scooped it up.

I checked it over anxiously, my mind racing.

It seemed fine, no cracks, no shattered screen. Just a small scratch on the corner, nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and, for a split second, considered just leaving it there on the desk.

Maybe pretending it hadn’t happened would be easier than facing him.

But before I could even make the decision, the door swung open.

Oscar stood in the doorway, his gaze immediately locking onto the phone in my hand.

His eyes flicked from the phone to my face, his expression shifting in rapid succession, surprise, confusion, and then something darker, something colder that made my stomach churn.

“What are you doing with my phone?”

His voice was tight, almost accusing.

I felt a lump form in my throat.

“I—I'm sorry, I knocked it over, and I was just checking to see if it was okay.”

His eyes didn’t soften. If anything, they hardened.

His jaw clenched as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that felt like the final barrier between us.

“Why were you going through it?”

His words cut through the air like a knife, and I could feel my pulse racing in my ears.

“I wasn’t going through it,” I quickly explained, trying to remain calm despite the panic rising in my chest.

“I swear, Oscar. I wasn’t—”

But he wasn’t listening. He cut me off, his voice rising with frustration.

“I just don’t get it,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.

“Lando was right, wasn’t he? You’re just trying to get something out of me. Trying to manipulate me.”

I stood frozen, the words hitting me like a punch to the gut.

My head spun as I tried to process what he was saying.

“What? What are you talking about?”

Oscar’s gaze was cold, distant, like a stranger’s.

He took a step closer, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“I know what Lando said,” he spat, his words laced with frustration.

“You’re trying to win me over, aren’t you? Maybe you just want to get close to me for some advantage, information, fame, whatever.”

Each word stung like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, the weight of the accusations suffocating me.

I had spent so long building trust with Oscar, trying to make him see the real me beneath the walls I had built.

But now, it was as if all that effort had meant nothing.

“Oscar, I don’t know what he’s told you, but I swear, that’s not it. You have to believe me,”

I pleaded, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

But his gaze hardened further, like an impenetrable wall had been built between us.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Y/n. I thought I understood you. But now… I don’t know.”

The words cut deeper than anything he had said before. I felt them settle in my chest like a heavy stone, each one sinking further into the pit of my heart.

The silence that followed felt unbearable. Neither of us moved, the air thick with unspoken words and hurt.

Finally, Oscar broke the silence with a sharp exhale, his frustration palpable.

“I don’t want to argue with you right now.”

And just like that, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him with a finality that echoed in my chest.

The sound of the door closing felt like the door between us had been shut permanently.

I stood there for a long moment, frozen in place.

My mind raced, but the only thing that kept repeating in my head was how completely shattered I felt.

It wasn’t just the argument, or the mistrust, it was the way everything I had worked for, everything I had built with Oscar, had just come crumbling down in an instant.

And for the first time in a long time, I was completely alone.

Hours had passed since the argument, and the weight of it sat heavily on my chest.

The tension between Oscar and me still lingered in the air, suffocating and sharp.

I had kept to myself in the aftermath, buried in data and numbers, trying to escape the clamor of my own thoughts.

I needed the distraction, anything to keep my mind from spiraling further into the uncertainty of everything that had unfolded between us.

But as I walked down the narrow hallway, heading toward the garage, I heard the familiar voices of Lando and Oscar in the distance.

Their voices cut through the stillness of the hallway, and without meaning to, I found myself slowing down, drawn to the conversation like a moth to a flame.

I tried to stay calm, but something in my gut told me I wouldn’t like what I was about to hear.

“…She’s just so cold,”

Lando’s voice was low but carried a certain finality, like he was trying to convince Oscar of something he already believed.

“I’ve tried to get close to her, man, but it’s like she doesn’t even care. She’s got this wall up that I can’t get through. It’s exhausting and childish.”

Oscar’s response was quieter, but still audible.

There was a hesitation in his voice that I hadn’t expected. “She's cold... but I guess that's just how she is”

My heart thudded painfully in my chest, the pressure of the situation suddenly too much to bear.

I thought, no, hoped, that Oscar might defend me, at least show some understanding of who I really was, what I had been through.

But instead, it was like he was agreeing with Lando.

And with every second that passed, the pain inside me deepened, unbearable and raw.

Lando’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time.

“Whatever, man. Just keep an eye on her, alright? I’m telling you, she’s got her own agenda. You can’t trust someone like that. She’s been playing everyone, and I’m sure you’re next.”

I stood frozen in place, my heart sinking.

Oscar was quiet for a moment, and I could feel the crackle of tension in the air, even from where I stood.

Was he really considering what Lando said? Was he starting to doubt me too?

Finally, Oscar spoke, his voice quieter than before, but there was an edge to it now, like something had shifted inside of him.

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on her. She seems suspicious and untrustworthy.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

My stomach twisted painfully, and it was like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.

That was it. He didn’t defend me. He didn’t trust me.

He was agreeing with Lando’s words, buying into the idea that I was some sort of threat, someone who couldn’t be trusted.

The space between us that had once felt so close now seemed impossibly vast, like an insurmountable chasm had opened up between us.

I felt the sting of betrayal rush through me, even though I tried to swallow it down.

My mind raced. How could he believe that? How could he think that of me, after everything we had shared, the small moments of connection?

It didn’t make sense.

It wasn’t like me to be the one who couldn’t be trusted, but here I was, questioning everything.

Turning on my heel, I quickly walked away, the sound of their voices echoing behind me, but I couldn’t bring myself to face them.

I could feel the tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall.

Not now. Not when it felt like I had already lost everything.

As I made my way back through the hall, my stomach twisted with a kind of emptiness I couldn’t describe.

That was it. Oscar had chosen Lando’s side without hesitation. And that hurt more than anything.

The realization settled over me like a heavy blanket, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely alone in a place I thought I had found some semblance of belonging.

I had hoped for more from Oscar, but now, I wasn’t sure what was real anymore.

What had we even shared if it could be so easily dismissed by someone who barely knew me?

Later that evening,

I found myself walking toward the tech area, my mind still reeling from the aftermath of everything.

The weight of the argument earlier that day had left me hollow, like a piece of me had been torn away and I couldn’t find the strength to patch it back together.

I wanted to drown out the pain, to lose myself in the data, in the work that always kept me busy.

But then, as I rounded the corner, I saw him.

Oscar.

We came face-to-face in the hallway, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly between us, the world around us fading as the air between us thickened with unspoken words.

My heart raced, pounding in my chest, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a thousand-ton brick.

The silence felt suffocating, every second of it making me feel smaller, more exposed, more vulnerable.

I could barely breathe.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hesitant, as if testing the air.

"Y/n, I want to talk about earlier. Please."

I couldn’t even look at him. His words felt like a distant echo, like something I couldn’t quite reach.

The sting of everything he’d said to me earlier, the doubt, the mistrust, burned too fiercely in my chest for me to react calmly.

I shook my head, my throat tight as I tried to hold it together.

My voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with emotion.

“What’s there to talk about? You don’t believe me. You don’t trust me.”

Oscar’s face softened, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name, but it didn’t matter.

The pain in my heart was louder than anything he could say. He stepped closer, like he couldn’t bear the distance between us.

His voice was pleading, desperate for me to listen.

“That’s not true. I said those things out of anger, out of frustration. Lando’s words... they got to me. But I swear, I don’t think you’re using me. I—”

I cut him off, my voice breaking with the weight of my emotions. I couldn’t let him spin it.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head furiously.

You’re just like everyone else. You heard one thing, and you turned your back on me.”

His steps faltered, and for a moment, I saw something like regret flash in his eyes.

But it didn’t change anything. Not anymore.

The damage had been done, and I couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt.

“Y/n, please,” he said softly, reaching out, his hand hovering near my arm.

“I didn’t mean it.”

But his words felt hollow now.

I didn’t want to hear him apologize. Not when everything I had worked so hard to build between us seemed to have shattered in an instant.

I felt the tears welling up, burning my eyes, threatening to spill over.

My chest felt tight, suffocating under the weight of everything I had been trying to keep buried.

“You did,” I whispered through the tears. “You believed it. And now I can’t trust you either.”

Oscar’s hand dropped as if the weight of my words had physically knocked it from him.

The space between us seemed to stretch, a chasm that no words could bridge.

His eyes flickered with something like frustration, but I couldn’t find the energy to care.

“You’re always so defensive, always so closed off,” he said, his voice sharper now, tinged with anger.

“It’s exhausting. I can’t keep up with this anymore.”

I felt the sharp sting of his words, but there was something else beneath it.

Something that twisted in my chest.

“Maybe it’s because you don’t want to,” I choked out, my voice cracking with emotion.

“Maybe you just don’t want to understand.”

Oscar’s eyes turned cold, and his voice rose, filled with a rawness I wasn’t prepared for.

“You think you’re so much better than everyone, don’t you? You act like you don’t care, but deep down, you’re just scared. Scared that you’re not good enough. You’re scared of getting hurt, so you push everyone away. And it’s pathetic.”

I froze.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and my breath caught in my throat.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.

I was frozen in place, each syllable echoing through my mind, digging into the parts of me I tried so desperately to keep hidden.

The parts I had tried to lock away from everyone, including myself.

And now, here he was, exposing them in the worst way possible.

I trusted him, but he used my trust in him against me.

My worst fears, my deepest insecurities, laid bare before me in the cruelest possible light.

I didn’t want to cry. I couldn’t. But the tears came, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them.

I had built so many walls around myself, so many layers to protect the fragile parts inside, and now they felt like they were crumbling away with each word Oscar spoke.

Oscar’s expression faltered as soon as he realized what he had just said.

His eyes widened in horror like he couldn’t believe the words that had just left his mouth. This wasn't him.

He reached out to me, but the instinct to pull away was stronger than anything I had ever felt.

My body jerked back, my anger and hurt boiling over in that single moment.

“No,” I spat, my voice venomous and raw. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand dropped like a stone, and I saw the regret washing over his face, but it didn’t matter.

Not now.

Not after everything.

It seemed like he was regretting everything the minute he realized he was losing me.

But the damage was already done, and there was no taking it back.

I turned away from him, the weight of everything crashing down on me as I walked away, the tears falling freely now.

My heart felt like it had been torn in half.

I didn’t look back, because I knew if I did, I’d crumble.

The pain was too much.

I was almost out of the hallway when I heard his footsteps behind me.

He was following me.

“Y/n, please,” Oscar called again, his voice breaking through the distance between us.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please, just let me explain.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t listen to him anymore.

I had trusted him and believed that he saw me for who I was, and now… now he had shattered everything.

My heart felt raw, bleeding from the wounds he had inflicted.

I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.

“You want to apologize now?” I asked, my voice trembling with the pain I could no longer hide.

“It’s too late, Oscar. You’ve already made your choice. You’ve already believed the worst about me.”

Oscar stepped closer, his face full of regret. “Y/n, I—”

“No,” I interrupted, shaking my head, my heart breaking in two.

“I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep trusting people who turn on me the second something goes wrong. I’ve had enough.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.

The silence stretched between us, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. But it didn’t matter.

The damage was already done, and I couldn’t forgive him, not now.

Not after everything.

With a final, bitter glance, I turned away and walked off, the tears still falling as I left him standing there, his apology hanging in the air between us, unanswered and unaccepted.

But one thing was for sure: I had to put myself first.

The end

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futfemfantasies · 23 hours ago

Text

A wedding to remember ~ Steph Catley x reader

Weddings in vineyards are always beautiful but it's something about the venue under the Australian sunset that makes it stand out. With fairy lights decorating the trees and rustic vibes from the wooden tables, Emily and Kat designed it perfectly. You watch the newlyweds have their first dance, a glass of champagne in hand, when you notice a familiar brunette join your other Matilda's teammates across the dance floor.

Steph has been in your life since you were teenagers. Growing closer when on camps together and sharing moments on and off the pitch. Between you both there has always been an unspoken connection that neither person wants to acknowledge. For many years now, there has been one complication for your friendship to progress further - Dean. You told yourself over and over again that there was no chance anything could happen. But Steph got engaged to Dean and you couldn't stand to see it so you move clubs to protect your feelings. Every camp for the national team you'd try to hide your feelings but many of your Matilda's teammates caught on quickly. Every time Steph glances your way, it becomes harder for you to keep those feelings settled.

The sun started to move behind the horizon and more people moved to the dance floor. You decided to stay back and watch, not really in a dancing mood. You heard heels click behind you and you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around and saw the woman taking over your thoughts since you arrived.

“Hey stranger,” She said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, trying not to appear nervous.

Steph smiled small, but warm. “You've been hiding over here all night.”

“Just enjoying the view.” you said, gesturing to the many trees in the vineyard.

Steph nodded, looking at the sunset and dimly lit trees before facing you again. “You've been radio silent lately, is everything okay?”

“Just a lot on my mind I guess.” you hesitated. Steph studied you, her expression unreadable.

“You know you can talk to me about anything?”

“I know.” you whisper before going to see your other Matilda's teammate.

Emily insisted that all the Matilda's are to go on the dance floor at least once during the night. Ellie dragged you on there, declaring you needed to ‘loosen up’. After pushing through the crowd, one of your favorite songs comes on. As you dance around with Ellie, she gives you a slight nod to look behind you. Steph was there with her hand outstretched, silently asking you to dance as the music got slower. You hesitate for a millisecond before taking Steph's hand. Time seemed to slow as Steph guided you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed your hand on her waist, trying to ignore all the feelings inside. Neither of you spoke for a while, just gently swaying with the soft melody, until Steph broke the silence.

“Dean and I broke up.” she said, voice quiet but steady.

You stopped in your tracks, looking Steph in the eyes. “what?”

“It's been coming for a while,” Steph admitted. “We both knew it wasn't working anymore,” Before you could respond she continued.

“I've been thinking a lot about what I want - about what makes me happy,” Her eyes met yours, hands tighten around your waist. “and it's you.”

Your breath hitched, as the weight of her words started to settle in. “Steph…”

“Follow me.”

Steph untangles from you and pushes her way through the crowd. You follow behind like a lost puppy until you get a little bit away from the reception. Steph pulls you in her arms and you search her face for any hint of doubt. There was only honesty and Hope.

“I've wanted to say this for so long,” you admit, as your voice trembled. “but I didn't think I could.”

Steph hold your face in one of her hands as she smiled, “well, now you can.”

With that, the distance between you became non-existent. the music Fading Into the background and all you can focus on is her. you both lean in and the wedding slowly forgotten as you two were caught up in each other.

The kiss under the stars changes everything. For the first time, the barriers between you and Steph crumble. As you pull back, your foreheads resting together, Steph smiles—a real, unforgettable smile that feels like home.

“We can’t keep this just for tonight,” she says softly.

You nod, your heart pounding. “I don’t want to.”

The rest of the wedding fades into a blur. You and Steph spend the next few days together, slipping away from the chaos to steal quiet moments just for yourselves. Long walks along the beach, lazy afternoons in the sun, and late-night conversations filled with laughter and shared memories remind you both of what you’ve always had—and what you could have.

As the offseason looms, you both return to Europe, reluctant to leave the bubble you’ve created but excited to see what the future holds. Steph heads back to London, while you return to Barcelona, the distance between you feeling more manageable now than ever before.

The transfer window is in full swing, and rumors are flying about player moves. You’ve kept your decision close to your chest, wanting to surprise Steph when the time is right. The deal with Arsenal has been finalised, and the announcement is just days away.

With the help of Caitlin and Katie, you arrange to meet Steph at one of your favorite coffee spots in London. She’s already seated at a corner table when you arrive, her face lighting up the moment she sees you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she says, standing to hug you.

You grin, nerves bubbling under the surface. “I have a surprise.”

“Oh?” she asks, raising an eyebrow as you both sit.

You slide an Arsenal scarf out of your bag and place it on the table between you. Steph stares at it for a moment, her eyes widening as realisation dawns.

“No way,” she says, her voice filled with disbelief and excitement.

“Way,” you reply, unable to keep the grin off your face. “The transfer is all finalised. I’m joining Arsenal next season.”

Steph laughs, leaning back in her chair as she takes it all in. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” you say. “Thought it was time for a change—and maybe time to be closer to you.”

Her smile softens, and she reaches across the table to take your hand. “You have no idea how happy this makes me.”

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

#womens soccer #woso soccer #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso fanfics #matildas x reader #steph catley x reader

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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

Text

What If It Was You?

dad!James Potter x f!teacher!reader

Summary: It all started innocently enough. James noticed how kind you were. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry. And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging.

Warnings: muggle!au, suggestive

Masterlist

The school gate was nearly empty when James finally arrived, the late afternoon sun tinting the sky with shades of orange and pink. He was late — again. The traffic, work, single father life… there were so many excuses, but none of them seemed enough when he thought of the disappointed look he might find on Harry's face.

He adjusted his glasses and took a deep breath, crossing the small stone path to the entrance. The place seemed incredibly quiet at this hour. He knew he should hurry, but his steps slowed when he saw you through the half-open door.

You were facing away from him, crouched down next to Harry, and the two of you were laughing at something he couldn’t hear. James felt a pang in his chest as he watched the scene — something he couldn’t name, but that grew with each passing day since you entered their lives.

It all started innocently enough. He noticed how kind you were, how you seemed to genuinely care for every child in the room. But over time, he began to notice things he probably shouldn’t have. The way your hair fell over your shoulder as you wrote something on the board. The soft sound of your laughter, which seemed to light up the room. The way your eyes sparkled when you looked at Harry, as if he were the center of the universe for a moment.

And then there was the damn ring question. James never knew exactly why his eyes sought your left hand, but they always did. Always. And every time he didn’t find a ring there, he felt a relief that left him ashamed of himself. But the shame was never enough to erase the relief. Today, however, a new and dangerous thought struck him. He didn’t just want your hand to stay ring-free. He wanted there to be a ring there. One that he had placed. One that told the world you were his, that you were part of the small world he and Harry shared. But then you looked up, and his eyes met yours. Reality hit like a cold splash of water. You smiled at him, that warm smile that made his stomach flip, and James felt as if all his thoughts were exposed in the air between you. “You’re just in time, Mr. Potter,” you said, your voice light and sweet, but with a teasing tone he recognized. “I thought Harry was going to demand I adopt him if you didn’t show up.” The sentence hit him hard, like an unexpected punch that left him breathless for a moment. Adopt him? The word echoed in James’s mind as he looked at you, feeling a sudden and overwhelming wave of thoughts he couldn’t contain. You adopting him. You, in their life, not just as Harry’s teacher, but as… something more. He blinked a few times, trying to process the whirlwind that had formed in his mind. A brief and intimate vision appeared, so clear he could almost feel it: you, sitting next to him at the dinner table, helping Harry with his homework. You laughing as Harry tried to explain a drawing he made at school. You holding a baby in your arms — his baby — with the same sweetness you gave to every child in that classroom. James felt the air getting trapped in his lungs, a heat rising to his face. He had never considered having another child. Life as a single father was already a minefield of challenges and surprises, and he always thought it would be enough with just him and Harry. But now… now he could picture himself looking at you with a mixture of fascination and love as you held a child with unruly hair and bright eyes — a perfect mix of him and you. Harry had already mentioned how he would like to have a sibling. And you would look beautiful. He knew that. He could see the image so clearly it made his chest tighten in a nearly painful way. You with a rounded belly, full of him, wearing one of those light dresses he thought suited you. He imagined himself placing a hand there, feeling the baby move under his fingers, and the thought hit him like an electric shock, making him avert his gaze for a moment, as if he could hide the intensity of his own desires.

“Mr. Potter?” Your voice called again, laced with a hint of concern, and James realized he had been silent for too long.

“Oh, of course,” he replied, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. He ran a hand through his hair, an automatic habit whenever he was nervous. “I hope he didn’t give you enough trouble to make you reconsider.”

“Not at all,” you said, and that gentle smile he adored returned. “Harry’s a sweetheart.”

James felt something in his chest tighten again, because he believed it. He knew how special Harry was, and knowing that you saw it too, that you treated his son with such care and affection, was more than he knew how to express.

For a moment, you two just looked at each other in silence, and the world around seemed to slow down. There was something in the way your eyes met his, as if a silent current of understanding and something more was passing between you. It was intimate. Warm. A spark he didn’t know how to extinguish.

“Dad, are you going to keep staring at her forever, or can we go home?”

Harry’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade, snapping them both back to reality. James blinked quickly, looking away and feeling the heat rise to his face. He looked at his son, who was staring at him with an impatient air, though there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Sorry, champ,” James replied, clearing his throat and letting out a nervous laugh. “I think I’m more tired than I thought.”

You laughed softly, and the sound was like music to his ears. “I think we’re all tired. Have a good night, Mr. Potter. Harry.”

“Good night!” Harry replied cheerfully, giving an enthusiastic wave while holding his father’s hand.

James looked at you one last time, struggling against the urge to prolong the interaction. But he knew he had to go, even though every part of him wished to stay just a little longer.

“Good night,” he said, his voice softer than he meant, before turning and starting to walk out with Harry.

As he left, he felt his son squeeze his hand and heard his excited voice say, “Dad, I really like her. I think she’d be a great mom.”

James stopped in his tracks, his heart leaping in his chest. He looked at Harry, who was staring at him with that disarming innocence only a child could have.

And for a moment, James let that forbidden thought take shape again: you at home with them, laughing, caring, belonging. He didn’t say anything, but squeezed Harry’s hand a little tighter, thinking that, no matter how impossible it seemed, he couldn’t agree more.

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niniwritesxo · 1 day ago

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nsfw alphabet - nam-gyu (player 124)

(it contains things like degrading, threesomes, and nam-gyu being an asshole tbh, if you aren’t into that i wouldn’t read this x)

saw this on @cybrasigilism ‘s page, you should really check that out ! (love their writing btw)

——————————————————————————

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- sorry to burst your bubble but his aftercare is probably none existent, he might hand you the tv remote afterwards but that’s about it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- 100% his hands, obviously he had to add some rings, because he knows girls like you will go crazy over it. favorite part about you is most likely your boobs or your ass (basic am i right?)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he for sure has a breeding kink (who said that haha)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- a dirty secret about namgyu is the fact he would to have a trio with thanos and you, the thought of seeing thanos fucking you turns him on more than he would like to admit.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- i think he has had a lot of one night stands, so he knows what he is doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- he loves when you are on top of him, that way he can look at your body all he wants, the way your boobs bounce when he is thrusting into you, how you are so out of breath after a few rounds, he loves it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- i don’t think he is very humorous in bed, he doesn’t even think about making a joke in the moment because he is so focused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- i don’t think he has a insane bush, but lets just say he isn’t perfectly trimmed either.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- he sees you as a fuckbuddy, good for fucking. he isn’t looking for a relationship so he probably isn’t that romantic.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- he looks up your (or your friends insta) and jerks off to your photos.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- i feel like he would love tying you up, seeing how you aren’t able to move while he gets to do whatever he wants. (and knife play ..anyways!)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- definitely in places where you COULD get caught like, fittings rooms & public restrooms.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- praise 1000%

‘Bet you’ve never been fucked like this huh?’ he says out of breath grabbing your chin, at this point it’s almost impossible for you to talk, it’s like he fucked your brains out. You decide to nod.

‘Fucking speak up’ he says glaring at you.

‘n-namgyu please, i need y-you please’ you manage to puff out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- anal.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- he loves receiving especially when you suck him off. but he is also a munch, he loves going down on you. he could do it for hours.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- he is very rough and fast, it’s almost like hate fucking, nothing sensual about it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he loves quickies, especially in the games he would find places where he could quickly release his stress onto you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- i think he has tried a lot already but will try all sorts of stuff on you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- depends if he is under the influence of something, if he’s taken something? he could go on for hours on end. if he is sober he’ll probably pass out after a good 40 minutes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- he doesn’t own or use toys, he feels like his hand are good enough to keep you satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- he is such a tease, you definitely need to wait before you can cum and he’ll make sure you beg for it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- i don’t think he moans, he is more like a grunts guy. i feel like he talks a lot tho. (cursing and degrading you obvi)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- it kinda turns him on when you try to be bossy for once, telling him what to do and what he isn’t aloud to do.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- he has a average body, leaning more towards a dad bod than a jacked up guy tho.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- his sex drive is hiiigh, he always feels horny and is always in for a quickie.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- give him ten minutes and he is gone.

english isn’t my first language so if i made any mistakes, i apologize x

#namgyu #nam gyu headcanons #nam gyu x reader #player 124

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heegyukeluv · 4 hours ago

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cross the line (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: “How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” It was Heeseung’s question to you, and you were left with no option other than to show how you do it.

my's note: this is from an old prompt i had. nothing much, just some fluff and highkey desperate (and long) smut... and bestfriends to lovers 🤭i feel like i lost the plot while i was writing it, but yeah! hope y'all enjoy it

warnings: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, kinda miscomunication?, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), desperate hee (in many ways lol), hee is sensitive and edges himself, very slooooow and unnecessarily detailed smut, reader is not a virgin but it's her second time!! / lmk if i missed something!

wc: 14,5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @tinycatharsis

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?”

The question lingered in the air longer than Heeseung expected, but he wouldn’t blame you at all.

It was a quiet, calm Saturday afternoon. None of you had work to do or studies to draw your energy. While your back lazily rested on your couch’s armrest with your legs propped up in a triangle, Heeseung was laid on the ground after blaming the couch’s fabric for being too heated for his skin, his head opposite to yours.

Far enough to miss your instant confused expression.

“Huh?” You murmured with a frown, trying to figure out if you heard it correctly before diverting your attention from your phone to catch a glimpse of Heeseung’s plain eyes looking up at the ceiling.

He had shifted his position to a relaxed one with a hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, the quiet motion of up and down following his gentle breathing. It could easily soothe your nerves to watch him serenely exist like that in the world, an opposite to his normally chaotic and teasing demeanor.

“How do you know if someone is flirting with you?” Heeseung repeated his question once again, and you were sure now you had heard it right. It didn’t make you less puzzled though. “Like, I think I struggle to recognize what’s just a normal interaction and what’s a flirt.”

Your eyebrows were sky high as you skeptically eyed Heeseung, not believing a single word coming out of his mouth as your body stiffed a little.

Growing up together as friends was just a quarter of your story with Heeseung.

Your moms were the typical best friends that surprisingly gave birth around the same time, resulting in you and Heeseung becoming as close as siblings due to your families proximity, although the thought of being Heeseung’s sister haunted the depths of your mind terribly nowadays.

Of course you wouldn’t mind being considered in that position when you were younger; Heeseung annoying ass bothering you all the time with the subtle hair pulls under the excuse of trying to grab your attention, or poking your sides to start a little fight that he always won, or the times he simply feigned to go for a whisper as in telling you a secret just to blow air in your ear and elicit a scream from you, were a huge behaviors proof he had somewhat sibling energy.

Your constant smacks on his shoulders and chest, along with your not-so-gentle bites on his arms, and your giggles whenever you pranked him by tossing flour at his direction when cooking together worked well to establish a strong base to that idea.

However, as you both started to grow up, things changed accordingly to your ages.

You were expectedly very comfortable around each other, and the touches once aiming to bother, switched to casual, caring ones, still having a faint of that light-hearted taunt.

Heeseung would often be seen removing an eyelash from your cheek, his fingertips brushing against your skin softly as you kept talking normally.

Or intertwining your hands when going back from school, so you wouldn’t fall whenever you tripped – and you did quite regularly.

Or, when you sat together, Heeseung would make sure to have your thighs resting on his lap so he could settle his warm hands on top of it, casually caressing your skin while watching whatever you choose to.

It was great and heartwarming to have him like that, taking care of you even with the slightest teasing alongside genuine intentions – Heeseung struggled to demonstrate his feelings openly, so giving you princess-like treatment with a hint of his usual playful banter was his way to show how much he loved you.

Eventually, puberty hit him, and hit undoubtedly hard.

The little kid who used to follow you around just to annoy had become the taller, handsome, and effortlessly cool teenager, surrounded by friends and making girls squeal over even the slightest interaction with him, leaving you to wonder when everything had changed that much.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to keep being friends with you the way he was before as time passed, but surprisingly he would often be choosing you over the others, such as hanging out during lunch time with you, doing his schoolworks only with you, spending a part of his pocket money with sweets for you and taking you home everyday – you lived near to each other, nonetheless he would always guide you to your door’s porch before kissing your forehead and saying his farewell.

At some point you realized your body was reacting similarly to how girls who had a crush on Heeseung would describe when he was around; an urge to scream and giggle just because he smiled, heart pounding hard in your chest after watching him slicking back his sweaty hair while playing basketball with the boys, hands trembling with the thought of being alone for too long with him in your room.

You were starting to act awkward, your hormones messing with your head enough to leave you scared as shit, questioning what you and Heeseung were, because the definition of friendship wasn’t making any sense, seemed lacking, insufficient for what you truly, wholeheartedly wanted from Heeseung.

So your most sane decision at the time was to push him towards other girls randomly, sharing how much in love a friend of yours was with him and how worthy, pretty and intelligent she was. Or how the cheerleader’s leader would fit him perfectly and they would become the school’s model couple.

The sting in your heart was tough to deal with when he started to pick up some of your ideas and openly flirt with the said girls, sharing each step with you how friends constantly did, but you would one hundred percent rather to handle the pain of never having Heeseung as your boyfriend than the hurtful thought of losing him for good.

Then Heeseung started dating, and the girl was extremely jealous of your friendship.

Though you swore she had nothing to worry about, Heeseung, once again, chose you, dumping the girl just a few weeks after because she said bad things about you, added to the fact that she had a list of reasons why he should end the friendship, something Heeseung would never, ever think about doing.

Despite your mind playing tricks after hearing that people could misinterpret the way Heeseung behaved with you – apparently he would be playing with your hair and giving you headpats quite too oftenly, barely keeping his hands away from you –, you tried to maintain things safely where they should be, focusing on getting over your foolish crush on Heeseung and moving on.

Eventually, little by little the so cherished friendship started to teeter the edge that crossed the line of just friends, and the casual moments started to hold a special place inside your chest.

Heeseung made no effort to help you as well, offering big and gorgeous smiles whenever he saw you as if you were everything he wanted. Laughing graciously when you hugged him so you could hear and feel his chest vibrating with it. Doing his silly little dances to cheer you up in the middle of your living room and, mostly, singing songs with his angelical voice for you to sleep during late phone calls.

You were so terrified of reading beyond reality.

Was it really that deep?, you would question yourself when your head rested on your pillow at night, the phantom of Heeseung’s presence permeating your room after a game day together, the shared chuckles and teasing prolonging your fast heartbeats as a sweet reminder of your feelings, feelings that you never really managed to bury somewhere else other than on the tip of your tongue, craving for the release you never gave.

The friendship continued the same through the years, or, at least, you both tried to. The emotional bond that tied you two together worked almost perfectly, if you got to keep your voice silenced, if you got to keep the real feelings inside your chest, away from the possible reality.

Heeseung would be eager to share his adventures with you, from the everyday moments, like when he made a shot with his back turned to the hoop and scored, to the more secretive and sexual escapades, the ones you would rather not hear about but had to in order to support your friend spot.

It felt like a punch to the gut when Heeseung talked about his first kiss and the others that followed, each revelation stirring a mix of emotions you couldn't quite shake off, not when you wanted him to be your first kiss as well.

When you both entered college last year, once more things shifted a little.

Heeseung and you began to frequent very different places. While you gravitate towards the quiet spots, such as the library, the coffee shop, or the shade of a tree on campus to read a book in your silent, mellow atmosphere, Heeseung was willing to attend every single party he got to know about, having girls constantly kissing him in front of everyone, caring little to nothing about the talks or if the night would end up in his room.

But he never really committed to anyone.

You wondered what was the reason that held him back, considering the amount of good opportunities he had; the offers were abundant, and the line of admires long to make a curve down the square. Surely he would find the love of his life among that many options, and you had convinced yourself you were far faded from the running.

So, the question felt out of place.

“Are you really gonna try to make me believe that you don’t know when a girl is flirting with you?” You propped yourself on the couch to full face Heeseung, arching an eyebrow. “You? Of all people?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes with a sigh and a smirk, pushing himself up to sit with crossed his legs, fully aware of what you were referring to. “Don’t even start with this shit.”

You chuckled dryly, struggling to contain the bitter taste dissolving in the depths of your throat, the knot was extremely hard to swallow, to know he had fucked who knows how many girls through his life and you, on the other hand, barely had a boyfriend.

It might sound like envy, but you were just frustrated for not being any of those girls.

“What shit? The ‘last weekend I slept with three girls’ shit?” You faked a deep voice to mimic Heeseung, together with his usual cocky smile before deadpanning into a feigned teasing expression.

The episode happened a few days ago, right when you accidentally eavesdropped on him and his friends chatting while playing video games in your shared living room.

It was the typical boys’ talk that you had no intention of listening to, but unfortunately you had just reached the door’s knot to open it, then each word that came out of Heeseung’s mouth traveled straight into your ears, making your stomach drop in an unexpected pain.

You rushed to your room, cheeks heating and tears stinging your eyes, on the verge of breaking down after hearing what he had said.

Of course you knew Heeseung was sexually active. His room was right next to yours, and though he tried to keep it quiet, the girl he once led in after mistakenly thinking you weren’t home hadn’t bothered to be discreet.

You were fully aware of his private life, the quarter that had you screaming, crying, nearly pulling out your hair and breaking some of your belongings in jealousy because it wasn’t you.

“Y/N,” Heeseung called out seriously, accidentally bringing you back from your spiral thoughts. “You, more than anyone, know I was joking,” he averted his eyes from you, the prominent area of his cheeks heating as he added. “I literally lost my virginity not even six months ago.”

Now it was your time to roll your eyes, because yes, Heeseung did in fact lose his virginity on that said date, but he never stopped having sex ever since and it annoyed you so fucking much. While you struggled to even kiss a boy, Heeseung was out there living the best of life. Without you.

For years, you thought you hated his behavior because you couldn’t be like him, nonchalant about your crushes as if they were nothing much. You had to literally force your body not to shake when kissing someone, had to hide your sweaty palms and how all your instincts yelled for you to run away when sharing intimacy with someone.

But the actual reality was simpler. You weren’t envious of him. You didn’t want to be like Heeseung.

You wanted Heeseung.

“Whatever you say,” you muttered with a dry chuckle and dropped back on the couch, grabbing your phone to keep scrolling on tiktok, ignoring how hot your face felt after.

Heeseung grunted, his eyes darting towards your face as you absentmindedly watched videos. The boy was oblivious to the real whirlwind happening inside your chest, especially because on his side of the story, he was fighting so fucking hard to contain himself.

Every. Single. Second.

You were the prettiest girl he ever had the chance to lay his eyes on, with the bestest personality that complemented his own just right, with the most melodic voice and laughter that made his whole world slow down in order to make his breathing ability harder. And he really wished it actually slowed down, to allow him to enjoy and appreciate every passing moment with you even deeper.

Fuck, Heeseung was unable to tell when the butterflies in his stomach started to dance along the beat of your constant presence, but the day you asked if your lipgloss was cute definitely played a big role on it.

Heeseung had a vivid memory of how gorgeous you looked wearing your brand new dress for your fifteenth birthday party, styling your strands with a hair bow and prepping your face with makeup that only accentuated your already beautiful features.

And then you turned on your heels, cheeks painted with a faint blush, big, wide, innocent eyes colored with a soft shade of brown, and your lips, oh, your fucking plump lips with a shade of a light pink gloss adorning it, screaming for his own mouth to be pressed there.

‘Do I look cute? Does my gloss look cute?’

The question was simple and very common. Heeseung always answered yes to them, because he would always think you were pretty, even when waking up with your puffy face and half-lidded open eyes squinting because of daylight.

But there you were, making Heeseung focus intentionally more on your, now, kissable lips, on your sweet, tempting, fucking gorgeous lips.

Ever since that day Heeseung had to keep you closer to drift his nasty thoughts away.

It was controversial and maybe hypocritical. He should have done the opposite, to avoid you, to keep you as far as possible, but he simply couldn’t, because in that very moment he found himself addicted to you, addicted to the idea of tasting what he had come to crave as his main life goal.

Having you near meant not dealing with the thought of other guys that had experienced what he longed the most, because with you, everything that filled Heeseung’s mind was the present; your presence, your cheeky smiles, your clingy hugs, your scent, you, as a whole.

It was so fucking tough and hurtful to hear about your little crushes, it fumed his chest with angry flames that spread rapidly, with no sign to have a firefighter strong enough to put the fire out.

You weren’t like him, or at least the part you allowed him to have access didn’t compare to even one percent of what he lived, but Heeseung strongly envied those who had the chance to be the reason behind your shy giggles and blushed cheeks.

Along the chat about flattering boys that stole your heart, you would also ask him why he didn’t date anyone, your curious gaze making him stutter in place. To internally scream and squirm to prevent the words from escaping his mouth – words that would form the sentence that, without a doubt, would change the trajectory of your relationship – was the only suitable option.

It’s your fault, idiot. It’s because none of them are you.

Heeseung always opted to laugh away and give an open answer; ”didn’t find the right one” was his favorite.

In fact, watching you grow up was harder than dealing with some of the questions you threw at him. One moment, you were just the little girl he loved to tease, someone he considered his best friend, and even like the little sister he never had

Heeseung would watch you laugh at his jokes, chase you around scaring you, and protect you from the world when necessary. But then, out of nowhere, you started to change.

You were suddenly a full-grown woman, carrying yourself in a way that left him speechless, not knowing how to react, with boobs and shit.

Ok, that was not exactly what made his life around you harder, nonetheless, it was inevitable the way you physically evolved began to hold a distinct place in Heeseung's mind, blurring his cohesive thoughts with a frightening ease.

Being a teenager while having a hot friend was difficult, no one ever taught him about it.

He felt nasty every time he dared to touch himself while thinking about your body; how your mildly exposed chest, when wearing tight shirts, hinted at what was beneath it. How the soft curves of your belly and hips drew his attention in a way that got his fingertips tingling in craving to hug it, to have it under his touch.

Whenever he achieved his climax, your cute name falling from his lips in a quiet whisper, the following regret flooded his chest within a wave of remorse that he couldn’t control at all. For good minutes he even considered saying sorry to you within a text, without giving a proper explanation, but he would always choose to keep that hidden truth away from your acknowledgment in every instance possible.

Besides his strong, flaming desire, Heeseung loved you with all he had.

You were his best friend, the one and only, the girl who knew his deepest secrets and welcomed them without judgment, that laughed at his stupid jokes and held him closer when he needed comfort.

You knew that when he was a child, he would wet the bed because he had nightmares about clowns. You knew he would eat ramen in the middle of the night, hiding it from his parents and blaming his older brother. You knew that, despite him bragging about his skills, he was terrible at candy crush – and you loved to tease him about it, because who the hell is bad at candy crush?

You didn’t seem to care about his flaws, like the aggressive way he treated things around him when the accumulated stress snapped – never at you, though. Or the fact that he would procrastinate as much as possible to clean his room, to do laundry or wash the dishes. Or that he would always eat while watching TV at maximum volume, and scream loudly while playing league of legends even when late at night.

Heeseung loved you, yet, it wasn’t enough to keep him safely quiet, relentlessly making his body ache for you. What started as the warmth of a deep connection slowly blossomed into something more – more intense, more real, and yet, somehow, delicate, like a fragile flower that could easily be shattered.

Heeseung would treat you like a queen because he thought you deserved to be one, and in the valleys of his heart, he wished for you to let his presence be part of your happiness, to share all the intimate moments, to become a part of your world in a way that was more than just a friend.

So that was the reason Heeseung started this whole thing of asking you about flirting. He was patient, however the urge to be yours and have you completely was swelling not-so-slowly, and he found an unexpected way to maybe drift you both through that invisible boundary line he wished to cross for so long.

There was no actual curiosity behind his question, it was pure and genuine longing and quiet hope for you to, perhaps, reciprocate those confused feelings that only led his heart to decide that he loved you.

And he loved you with his whole soul.

“Come on,” Heeseung groaned after zoning out, now pushing his body to stand up before taking the seat next to you by scooching your legs away.

You looked at him over your phone, frowning, your heart still pounding hard in your chest after going thoughtfully over the topic he just brought, pretending to spend your time on the screen when, actually, your head was filled with anxious and fearful thoughts.

Even so, you kept a straight face.

“What?”

Heeseung sighed, shoulders dropping in something close to defeat and you took your time to move and sit on one of your legs, the other on the ground, casually hanging as you bounced it in order to expel your nervousness.

You didn’t notice your friend had tracked the motion for a quiet second, immediately understanding you had shifted your demeanor in a way he couldn't pinpoint yet, but he had a hunch about it. A suspicion that got his heartbeats notably increasing.

But you saw the exact moment he switched as he gathered the best of his decency to lock eyes with you, guiding the plan forward with excellency.

“Could you, please, for everything we have been through, for our beautiful friendship, and because you love me so, so much, answer my question?”

The drama in Heeseung’s voice was blatant and got you fighting back a grin that threatened to break free. His big-doe eyes flashing you an innocence you wittily figured out as coaxing, added to how he slowly batted his eyelashes, tilting his head only enough to look extra adorable, even curving his bottom lip to pull into a slight pout that had your attention lingering longer than you wanted.

Once Heeseung learned that his charming eyes were one of your greatest weaknesses, he wasted no time to take advantage of it, oftenly catching you off guard by using his secret weapon to achieve certain goals, offering a soft, yet penetrating gaze that got your knees faltering in place.

He didn’t know with precision what made you so easy to pursue whenever he used that trick, nonetheless it was a big benefit either for simpler favors or big other things, like using your credit card to buy a collector figurine he didn’t have the money to buy during that time.

In that moment, however, Heeseung just wished for you not to catch the flicker of apprehension in his eyes, or the barely contained excitement that danced behind the facade of calmness and fake purity, because he didn’t aim to get something expensive or use your bathroom just to explore your good amount of skincare.

His only objective was to cross that friendship line, to ruin it, and, if he was lucky enough, have you enjoying it as you both do so.

You pursed your eyelids and then cocked your head to the side, incredulous. “Seriously?” A chuckle echoed from your parted lips, softening your expression to endearing amusement since it pretty much worked all the time, even after you became fully aware of his tactic. “Using bambi-eyes and shit?”

Heeseung nodded with admirable speed, his entire behavior was almost infantile, resembling a shameless child about to get a pricey toy after playing the good kid for his parents, although he definitely did no good. He had a smirk on the very corner of his mouth, and his eyes glossed with complete feigned innocence.

You damned yourself for being such a sucker for that boy, for allowing him to have that much power over your whole existence.

And with that, you accepted your fate, your defiance. You had no idea of what was going to happen, let alone what the hell Heeseung wanted to know exactly. Yeah, girls flirting, but in which way? And why?

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, placing your phone away on the side table. Heeseung smiled brightly and shifted on his seat, his whole body now facing you, expectantly. You flashed a hesitant look, cheeks already flaming hot in a strange anticipation, not even bothering to chase for his gaze properly. “What do you wanna know?”

“Ok!” Heeseung nearly buzzed, his body jolting slightly as if electricity ran through it, revealing his excitement. “I’ll repeat the question so it won’t get weird, alright?”

You allowed your throat to let out a small hum, nodding and eventually daring to glance up for a little, meeting the view of Heeseung's eyes beaming with something close to thrilling and mischievous.

A cold, yet silent shiver ran through your torso and you had to control yourself not to tremble when he glazed his gaze with yours, in a magnetic manner that left you with nothing but the necessity to oblige.

Though you had heard them quite a lot from the past few minutes, the following words didn’t ease your heart to weigh less; the amount of times wasn’t enough to get used to how they sounded to you.

“How do I know a girl is flirting with me?”

The air felt extremely thick, rarefied even, as if you were up on the clouds, out from any equipment of protection as you body travelled near to get out from the atmosphere, heavy in your lungs.

Heeseung struggled to read your reaction at first. Silence. Pure lack of sounds, only a blank and slightly confused expression facing him.

It wasn’t like he was fully expecting you to partake in his idea, even though he planned to account for every possible outcome variant to achieve at least a fraction of his goal.

And yet, he didn’t have a clear objective. Perhaps he simply wanted to plant a seed of hope, mixed with a ‘what if?’, hoping you would realize his feelings ran far deeper than just friendship. And, if luck was on his side, that you might reciprocate – or at least begin to entertain the possibility.

He wanted to ruin that friendship, because he believed you could – no, should – be lovers instead.

You gulped down the lump forming in your neck, praying for some god to help you to release your nerves as soon as possible, otherwise the possibility of having a heart attack wouldn’t just be a fantasy; it would be a reality.

Although every cell in your body seemed to resonate with joy to step onto that untraveled road of your friendship, you couldn’t help the urge to run, to escape, to get away from that topic and move on with your life.

For sure you both had conversations about similar concepts, but nothing close to personal-sexual subjects. Nothing similar to Heeseung asking you directly how flirting happens.

“I think…” You sighed, fidgeting with the rings in your fingers. “It depends on the person…”

That reply was more open than Heeseung wanted, however, he didn’t press.

Your tone was thoughtful, your gaze drifting to a random spot on the wall behind Heeseung and then you frowned, trying to recall how your other girl friends behaved whenever their crushes were nearby to give him a proper answer.

Heeseung studied your beautiful features intently, momentarily losing sight of his original purpose; his focus hovered longer on your lips, the same ones that taunted his self-control every single day, the same ones he dreamed about having attached to his own, the same ones he nearly said ‘fuck it’ and kissed.

Instead, keeping the natural and respectful approach and also using your words, he rephrased his question, bold and curious to explore furthermore.

“How do you flirt, then?”

You blinked your blurred, distant eyes back to Heeseung, widening them once you noticed not a single hint of hesitation within his speech, not even a drop of wavering as he held eye contact. Your furrowed eyebrows showed deep uncertainty, and Heeseung added, struggling a bit to sound firm, gesticulating with his nervous hands.

“Like, could you demonstrate?”

It hadn’t clarified anything. In fact, it only made everything more doubtable and chaotic, eliciting a tilt of your head and an even deeper frown.

What on earth was he talking about? Out of nowhere? With no precise context whatsoever? You hadn’t bought into his questioning from the start, especially because of how charming that guy in front of you could easily be, no shame at all. And now this – completely sudden and utterly unsubtle.

Heeseung hadn’t laid the groundwork before dropping this delicate bombshell in your lap.

“How do I flirt?” You retorted, emphasizing and pointing to yourself, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, like,” he shrugged, as if it was just a normal question to make to your best friend. “How do you normally flirt with your crushes?”

You shook your head, your hands freezing in the air, your spinning head barely catching the mocking tone when Heeseung said crushes. “No, like, I got that part,” you clutched your fists, narrowing your eyes, lips suddenly drying. “But…”

The tension clung in the silence and you could feel your heart ringing in your ears, almost ripping out from your rib cage. Your hands slowly dropped to your lap, resting there as you tried to find a recompose path out of that situation.

“But…?” Heeseung prodded, leaning ever so slightly closer, his curiosity palpable as much as his boldness.

“Do you want me to flirt with you?” You blurted out, struggling to understand the whole picture, a blend of dread and excitement swirling in your stomach that you failed to contain.

Heeseung’s breath rigged, apprehension heavy in his voice, afterall, that simple interaction had the strength, the weight of changing things between you two for good – and he was painfully aware of it.

“It’s not like, flirt flirt,” he attempted to clarify himself, though it was clear he was growing increasingly nervous with each passing second. “I just wanna see how girls do it. And you’re a girl, as far as I know.”

Heeseung was trying to sound nonchalant, to ease the tense air with his remarkable teasing smirk, as casual as ever, but the atmosphere had noticeably shifted and you weren’t sure about your thought process during that moment.

You grabbed one of the couch’s pillows behind you and threw over him, both of you sharing a laugh that seemed a bit too forced to be real.

A rush of heat crept up your neck as you silently fumbled for the right words when the playful banter settled, leaving room for the reality of Heeseung requesting you to purposely flirt with him.

You also grasped with caution the way Heeseung’s gaze lingered on your figure, how it followed the movement of your teeth pressing on your bottom lip, how he mirrored your decision to wet the area with the tip of your tongue as well, drawing your attention towards his own attractive lips, planting, in your mind, a dangerous seed that had you considering a deeper, promiscuous touch.

The whole moment felt like walking a tightrope in high heels and you were terrified of what might happen if you stumbled. Your friendship was too precious for you to lose it over a stupid mistake. But, God, why did it feel so tempting to surrender to it?

Heeseung looked at you with adoration and eagerness, his body surprisingly relaxed, or at least you read it like that, as if the scenery was as simple as one plus one, as though he had everything under control.

Little did you know he was extremely, ridiculously, intensely anxious of what cost he would have to be paying in order to not destroy everything. If you paid close attention, you would probably see his gray shirt moving to the strong beats of his heart, loud enough to make him wonder if he was going to survive the outcome.

Another sigh trailed off your mouth as you scratched the back of your neck, clearly torn between the open choices in front of you. You could easily opt to ignore that and shove Heeseung away with some joke, or perhaps answer his question without thinking too intensely about it; you could fake it, hiding your real feelings in a dialogue made up from your head.

Or you could let your friendship fade into the depths of your lustful desire of having Heeseung for yourself as a whole man, shameless flirting with him the way you always wanted to.

And then, it clicked. He was offering you the perfect opportunity, the perfect project to subtly guide your decisions, all while pushing you towards the inevitable conclusion: you were about to ruin that friendship.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath to yourself, and right after your sharp, determined gaze met his, leaving no chance for any possible retort. “I think we need to fantasize a scenario, then.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the shift in tone but too intrigued to ask questions. “Why?” he smirked, leaning in slightly. “Does the scenario where you flirt with your best friend in your living room not quite match the vibe?”

You forced an exaggerated look of disgust, but it was more for show than anything else. Neither of you was fooled by your performance. “No, it doesn’t.”

Heeseung chuckled, the tension slowly melting between you two. But even as the laughter filled the air, the uncertainty of what was coming next buzzed in the back of your mind, tempting you to run. Yet, your heart, much to a surprise, was urging you to stay, to follow this dangerous path wherever it might lead.

“Ok. So let's just picture we're in a club–” Heeseung started, straightening his posture.

“I don't go to clubs.” You quickly deadpanned, eliciting a small “oh” from him.

“Right.” He agreed, frowning while trying to think of another situation. “So…”

You sighed in defeat, biting your lip briefly before saying.

“I'm your classmate and I have a huge crush on you…?” You blurted out in one breath, yet hesitant, feeling your entire face heat up with embarrassment.

Especially because the said scenario had already played out before, making it easier to go along with – or worse, making it feel way too realistic.

“Nice! That's a good one.” Heeseung replied, his voice carrying a cheerful tone that had you scrunching your nose at his obliviousness, though it wasn’t entirely his fault that you were harboring bottled-up feelings for him. “So what would you do?”

You toyed with your bottom lip, grazing it lightly with your teeth as you tried to quell your nerves, all while struggling to ignore the way your friend sounded urgent, excited, and unmistakably eager. It was as if the entire script had been meticulously crafted long ago. As if he genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted you to flirt with him and walk past the friends line.

Dangerously close.

Before you voiced out, you cleared your throat not to waver on your words. “So, since we're classmates, we'd probably see each other everyday...”

Heeseung nodded, his bambi-eyes following your every movement as you shifted on your seat slightly. “Yeah.”

“As a girl with a crush on you, I'd try my best to stand out somehow and grab your attention first. And the most common way is…” You paused, casting a wary glance towards Heeseung, as though your next words carried a weight too immense to risk uttering lightly. “Eye contact?”

After some time, locking eyes with Heeseung became an increasingly challenging task because it meant having the opportunity to take in every detail of his impossibly attractive face.

The faint mole on his forehead and the ones near his nose were like tiny stars adorning a beautiful sky; that very nose that made you want to squeal from how adorable and rounded its tip was, all while provoking thoughts far too indecent to entertain.

His constant parted lips carried an unique charm, naturally inviting with their slightly reddish hue. At times, they took on a deeper tone, whether from the way Heeseung pressed them together whenever he entered the deep concentration state or nibbled at them to suppress a laugh after teasing you.

If you dared let your gaze wander further, you would notice the sharp point of his chin and, just below it, his prominent Adam’s apple – a mesmerizing detail you never imagined could have such an effect on you. The subtle movement of it bobbing up and down held your focus captive as though it had the power to dictate your every subsequent action.

A sigh slipped from your lips before you even realized the silence that had overtaken you, nor the way Heeseung, with his warm brown eyes, oozed affection and attentiveness your way.

“You’re not making eye contact…” Despite his observation, there wasn’t a trace of reprimand in his tone. It was soft, like a summer breeze brushing against your skin, gentle yet impactful enough to make your eyes widen as you leaned back in surprise.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you had unconsciously leaned towards him.

“Sorry,” you muttered after clearing your throat, redirecting your gaze to a random spot in Heeseung’s lap. Yet, contrary to what you expected, he shifted forward, closing the distance further, his knees nearly brushing against yours.

You looked up at him, confusion and apprehension flickering in your expression, ready to ask why he was coming so close, but he left no room for your question.

“Does the proximity of the girl interfere with flirting?”

His tone was low, soft even, each word drawn out with deliberate care. It carried a designed tenderness that nudged the borders of unexplored intimacy between the two of you, crafted perfectly to unbalance your soul.

Breathing became difficult as your heart raced, your body begging you to flee.

“N–normally, it’s not this close.” You cursed yourself for stuttering, but how could you not? How could you remain composed when Heeseung’s voice carried an intimacy you had never heard before? You had never seen this side of him, never had him like this.

Your gaze latched onto the way his long eyelashes fluttered with each deliberate blink, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the way his breath mingled with yours as he leaned impossibly closer.

“Yeah?” He murmured, his eyes dipping briefly to your lips in a silent, daring plea to let actions replace words. “Then why are you this close?”

You desperately tried to come up with a coherent response, perhaps to point out that it was he who had closed the gap. But your mind had abandoned rationality, leaving you to stumble over a weak, “B–Because you sat there, you idiot.”

You broke eye contact abruptly, reality crashing over you like a tidal wave. The sheer weight of the moment urged you to shift away, to reclaim your space and calm the chaos in your chest.

But Heeseung wasn’t ready to let you go.

With surprising swiftness, he shifted his body upright and gently pulled your arm so you could get onto his lap, his hands holding you firmly yet carefully in place.

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head softly as his voice dropped an octave, steady and soothing, eliciting an immediate gasp from you. “I want to know how girls flirt when they’re this close.”

You found yourself awkwardly sitting sideways on his lap, blinking in confusion, hesitation etched into every line of your expression. All you could manage was a whispered “What?” that answered or replied nothing at all, it simply materialized into words something that reflected your genuine state.

Your breath hitched as Heeseung leaned in even closer, the heat of his body melding with yours like he was a powerful devil coming from the gates of Hell. His gaze, now tinged with something more potent that torn in between desire, yearning and an unspoken question, stirred something wild within you.

And for a fleeting moment he hesitated, the weight of the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper making him pause and analyze his possibilities, the small shift on his gaze betraying him. But as his fingers tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his resolve solidified.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his words as soft as the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of your lips. He gently tugged at your bottom lip, leaving you breathless, lips parted, and trembling. “I’m sorry for the way I went about this,” he added, his voice feather-light, his warm breath caressing your skin. “But I couldn’t think of another way to put us in this exact moment.”

Your body froze, your mind unable to fully process what was happening. One moment, Heeseung was your charming best friend who eventually became your lifelong crush, the next you were on his lap, in a compromising position and with your faces inches apart.

You were suffocating in the heavy atmosphere, unsure of how to respond to the rush of emotions crashing over you; it left you in a state of emotional overload, in shock, utterly overwhelmed.

And then, with a softness that cracked the air between you, that broke your tensed nerves and fluttered your chest, you saw his eyes falter, waiting for a sign, a proper answer for his following question.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you closed the remaining space yourself, your lips meeting in a collision of longing, and, so far, unspoken feelings that were buried deep in both of your souls, now lingering in the atmosphere as a quiet, yet delectable high voltage cursing over your body that you struggled deliciously to drift through.

Torn in a conflict of decisions and a mutual desire, you had finally tasted what had been tempting you for so long. The softness, the warmth, the way Heeseung’s lips fit so perfectly against yours, tailored to match you as if they were meant to be.

Crossed everything you had imagined, now buzzing like a soft echo of reminiscences from when kissing Heeseung equated to a fever dream, to impossible, unattainable.

Your body seemed to float in contact to soft clouds that gently embraced you; and then you realized that it was Heeseung holding you tenderly, kindly tracing the curves of your waist in a position that, now, was anything but comfortable.

Even so, the world outside felt like it didn't exist anymore. There was only the two of you, kissing with your breaths mingling intimately, with quiet sounds of contentment slipping out between that touch, one you had longed for far too long to waste the seconds that followed.

You deepened it, seeking Heeseung's tongue with yours almost desperately. The shock of the encounter of the two warm muscles was intoxicating, leaving you completely weak, and had you not been sitting, you would have easily fallen to the ground.

Kissing Heeseung at that moment felt like a relief. Relief in knowing that you were both on the same page when it came to the shared connection. Relief in realizing that his mouth desired you as much as yours craved his.

It was comforting to acknowledge how your body fit into his, in every possible way.

And it was then that you became aware of how your hands had automatically found their way into the soft strands of Heeseung's hair, pulling him just enough to draw the small grunts he released each time you did.

Your heart skipped a beat when Heeseung pulled away, tugging your lower lip with a soft bite. You opened your eyes slightly to search for an answer, fearing that regret had hit him like a powerful, striking bolt, but the truth was: he just needed to breathe in order to stay grounded and aware of what had just happened.

Shit. He was completely fucked, because now he knew how incredible it was to hear your breath hitch, to feel your fingers glide across his goosebumped skin with a tender, tempting touch, almost filthy, as your mouths melded together in an unprecedented rhythm.

He knew what it was like to have you intimately, and losing that feeling started to be his most intense fear.

Heeseung hadn't noticed, but there was a faint frown on his forehead that stirred conflicting emotions in you. He breathed heavily, almost panting while searching for air in his lungs. His eyes lowered, hypnotized by your parted lips, which willingly offered themselves to him.

It felt like a sweet indulgence, completely exposed, like someone on a strict diet, almost forbidden from indulging in the delicious taste of your mouth.

One simple kiss and he was completely undone, in the most delightful way possible. And beyond that, he began to crave you even harder. Dangerously harder. “What’s wrong?” You asked, a mild frighten cursing through your veins, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued to caress Heeseung's neck.

Your hooded eyes tried to pull an explanation for why he had stopped so suddenly.

He let out a low chuckle, a sound deep enough to make you shiver inside, sending a strange energy straight to between your thighs that made you unconsciously clench your legs, as your panties started to damp.

Heeseung’s hand, resting there, immediately noticed, making him smirk and lift his gaze. “You,” he sealed his lips with yours, “are unreal,” followed by another small kiss and, once again, a pause to admire you.

Heeseung looked at you with passion and tenderness, but mostly with desire. He wanted you.

No.

He needed you.

You swallowed hard as you met his piercing gaze before he stood up, making you rise with him. Standing, he grabbed you by the waist and, still smiling, kissed the corner of your lips without any proper explanation.

Your hands felt awkwardly frozen in mid-air, near Heeseung’s chest, as if you forgot how to function as a human being. To ease your visible tension and also taking some advantage of the moment, Heeseung lowered his mouth and planted a sweet trail of small, wet kisses down to your neck.

Your head immediately tilted to the side, almost as if he had typed the right password to gain free access to explore your body, his large hands cupping your ass with just the right balance of respect and desire. While you allowed him this closeness, he was careful not to overstep, not when you both had only just begun to unravel that delicate part of your... friendship?

Gradually, you let yourself go, questioning less and following the flow deliberately; your hands now resting on Heeseung’s broad shoulders while he continued his project of driving you insane with his kisses.

“Hee…” You sighed softly when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, too sensitive to keep you quiet, weak enough to make your knees nearly give way involuntarily.

“Don’t call me like that, baby…” Heeseung murmured softly against your skin, the vibration of his voice aligning with the tremor in your core, the endearment compelling you to clutch your eyes closed. Before you could even think of apologizing, he continued. “Or else I’ll get harder. And this fucking boner is already annoying me.”

For a brief, considerable second, you couldn’t comprehend his statement, your eyes opening in pure confusion as you stared at him, silently asking for an explanation. But Heeseung remained hidden in your neck, and you could even feel the ghost of his mischievous smile tracing your skin, rendering your mind incapable of thinking about anything other than his inebriating presence.

Then, he thrusted forward, just enough to press his hips against your body while gripping your waist to prevent you from stumbling back, and you felt it.

The layers of fabric between you two did nothing to mask the clarity of his intentions, not when he subtly, but unmistakably, demonstrated what he was referring to – a bulge sufficiently big to elicit a jolt of a quiver through your being, firm and clearly starting to grow painfully hard as Heeseung began to repeat that move.

So you had that effect on him? You turned him on? That was an unexpected delight. The warmth of it made you squirm in sudden discomfort, wishing you could feel it in a different way – one with fewer clothes.

Heeseung’s lascivious kisses on your neck switched to sloppy-messy ones, merging with the subtle grind of his hips against yours as he seeked for the smallest release to his thirst. The sensation made you let out a soft, almost teasing moan, provoking his restraint to the brim.

“Fuck…” he groaned, faltering by the way you were letting him grind shamelessly like a dog in heat, still fully clothed. “Tell me to stop, please..." His voice was ragged, like an aching, shaky plea that made his movements halt, since his focus turned inward in order to find some self-control.

But didn’t give such a command. Instead, you opened the door, not-so-silently inviting Heeseung deeper into the moment, into you. You couldn’t care less about your friendship, not when you craved to have your said best friend touching you intimately, to have his length twitching inside you while fucking your senses out of you as if his life depended on it.

You shook your head, a sly smile curving your lips when you whispered right in his ear.

“Take me to my room, Hee.”

His desperation thickened as he surrendered to the overwhelming warmth between you two, a vocal groan cursing through his throat when he maneuvered easily your body by grabbing your thighs, inciting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he busied his mouth in yours, messily guiding both of you to the your room.

You found support on his shoulders and giggled in between the sloppy kiss, but you couldn’t quite enjoy the feeling of his strong grip surrounding your body with precision for too long, as your back quickly reached the soft mattress of your bed.

Heeseung's big figure towered over you, scooching up as a way to help you both find a comfortable position until your head was touching one of your pillows, lips still attached to each other in pure hunger.

You wondered if putting your feelings into words would add to the moment, but nothing truly needed to be said. The unspoken tension you shared with Heeseung had carried your relationship this far – this wasn’t the time to disrupt it with confessions of the obvious. Not when you had him kissing you so intensely, so voraciously, as though he were utterly parched and you were his only source of relief.

It felt exhilarating to have Heeseung this needy, his body reacting to every subtle motion of yours. You rolled your hips gently against his, seeking mutual friction in a desperate bid for release.

Your fingers wandered through his disheveled hair, occasionally trailing down his subtly muscular arms – the very arms that had always been your weakness.

Heeseung wasn’t bulky or overly built, but he had a lean, breathtaking frame, with just the right amount of definition in certain places. Supporting his weight on the bed, you could feel the tension in his arms under your touch, muscles tightening even more each time your hands dared to drift lower, grazing his back, your nails lightly scratching.

The slight scrape drew delicious sighs from him, each one lost in the fervor of your kiss.

Heeseung’s free hand explored wherever it could reach, teasingly brushing beneath the hem of your shirt, as though waiting for your silent permission to go further. And you took your cue right away.

“Hee…” you broke the intense, breath-stealing kiss to murmur his name, your voice soft, your eyes barely open as the world around you seemed heavier, hotter.

He reacted instantly to the familiar nickname, though now it carried a filthy weight that would linger with him forever. His hips pressed against yours in a motion that sent a shockwave through your core, the direct contact of his pelvis with yours setting you alight.

Lifting his gaze to meet yours, he found pure, unrestrained lust staring back at him. The words that followed made him falter, disbelief flashing across his features at the reality of what he had craved for so long finally coming true.

“I want you,” you whispered, eyes tenderly, yet oozing with desire looking at his brown orbs.

Heeseung’s jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, his expression shifting to something taut, focused. He studied you with care, searching for hesitation, for any trace of doubt in your plea. But he found none, only mutual desire, raw and unfiltered.

A breath of laughter escaped him, quiet and disbelieving, as his lips, swollen and glistening with your shared kisses, curved into a cheeky, yet content and relieved, smile.

“Don’t laugh…” You whined, squirming beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape his teasing gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he said with his voice low, gravelly, making you shiver. “It’s just… This feels like a dream.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you failed to hold back a smile. “So, you’ve dreamed about me?”

“Every single day, Y/N,” Heeseung admitted, his eyes dropping to your lips once again, heavy with yearning, with need.

He looked intoxicated, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, he felt as though his body had transcended reality itself. Because even in his dreams, he never imagined having you like this – so real, so wholly his.

“Tell me that again…” A delicate plea. “Please,” a desperate beg.

“What?” You whispered back in confusion, your eyelids feeling heavy with the proximity of the moment, making it difficult to keep admiring the tempting view of Heeseung slowly falling apart.

“That you want me.”

Heeseung’s perfume had taken over you, invading your senses completely like a flood, and you were the one feeling drunk right now, as a deep goosebump ran through your spine hearing – understanding – his request.

“I want you,” you repeated, your voice trembling with the weight of confessing something so intrinsic.

Heeseung's breath mingled with yours, shaky, weak; the warmth of it ghosting over your lips as he hovered above you was making you dizzy. His gaze burned into yours, holding a quarter of darkness and contrastingly tenderness that matched his impossibly gentle touch on your waist.

He moved deliberately, savoring the anticipation building up quite fast, stirring an ache that got your stomach bubbling with expectation and a weird anxiety. You tightened your grip on his hair when the tip of his cute nose brushed against yours and his reddened lips grazed over your mouth.

“Again, please,” he murmured in a husky whisper; due to the closeness, the movement tickled the skin of your lips and spurred you to lick the area, your tongue caressing both your swollen lips.

You sighed, closing your eyes.

You could feel your core pulsing in need, your skin prickling due to the insufferable tension that grew stronger, ticker, teetering the unbearable within each second, making you wonder how longer you would be able to hold yourself back.

The magnetic tension surrounding you two made every breath feel like a desperate beg, igniting a hunger within you so fierce it consumed you.

Felt like the last thing you would ever crave in your life was right before you. But apparently, Heeseung longed to hear you speak a little more before taking any action.

“I want you, Hee,” you said again, quieter this time, though your tone was no less intense – it was even more raw.

Heeseung’s lashes fluttered shut for a moment, absorbing the confession like it was his lifeline. He repeated the motion of rubbing his nose on yours, now tilting his head to the side and groaning. That couldn't be real. You couldn’t be real.

He needed one more. Just. One. More.

“One more, please…” he pleaded, the words slipping out between deep, controlled breaths that did nothing to mask the tremor of desperation in his tone.

“I need you, Heeseung.”

His forehead pressed lightly against yours as he exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging with the weight of restraint. The charged air between you seemed to thicken, wrapping you both in an intoxicating haze.

Despite the tenderness of the moment, the desire simmering beneath the surface was undeniable – present in the way his hands traced delicate patterns along your waist, in the way his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of yours, in the way his lips hovered, so close yet so agonizingly distant.

“I need you right now, Hee. Please.”

And with your last wish, Heeseung obeyed your command.

Followed by a passionate kiss, one he tried to take his time to appreciate your taste, he also held the waistband of your shorts and, after your silent nod amidst the clash of your mouths when he hesitated, he began to move it down to your thighs, revealing the softness of your bare skin to his curious hands.

Thick fingers brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the thin barrier of your panties doing little to dull the sensation. The whimper that followed barely met the real world, swallowed whole by Heeseung’s eager mouth as he drank in your expressive, delicate reactions, savoring every trembling note like a melody meant only for him.

“So wet.” Heeseung stated the obvious after feeling your arousal sticking across the fabric, playfully tapping just to tease and feel its viscosity.

If the room was quiet enough, he would be able to hear the wet sound of his pats.

He dived into your neck since he couldn’t keep up with the pace of the shared kiss, not when you were letting out such beautiful noises as he pressed his fingers on your entrance over your clothing piece, taunting that release that seemed far to reach.

“Hee–” You whined in frustration, swinging your hips towards Heeseung’s fleeting touches as well as tightening your grasp on his locks.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled, deep and low. You pouted when he flashed you a charming smirk, matching perfectly with his amused, yet playful eyes. “Let me take care of you, mhm?”

And with that, Heeseung made quick work of removing the rest of your clothing, still caught around your thighs, panties included. He bit his lip, a soft sigh escaping alongside a subtle furrow of his brow in delight as he took in the full view of your pussy, glistening with your wetness – all caused by him.

You wanted to close your legs and hide, but he held you open and exposed to his sight. Heeseung could feel his stomach fluttering, tightening with sparkling expectation.

Beneath the teasing slowness of his movements, there was a Heeseung teetering dangerously close to the edge of insanity, warring to find some self-control. And it was entirely your fault.

The effect you had on Heeseung was nothing short of surreal. Even the simple act of your consent, given with every piece of fabric he slid away from your body, only served to fuel the fire within his desire, leaving his body, mind, soul, everything he had drunk on the sheer anticipation of what was to come.

“Fucking beautiful, baby.”

The compliment was common – Heeseung always praised your good looks. But the endearment slipped past his lips with extra ease, as if calling you baby – his baby – was as natural as a heartbeat, as expected as blossoming flowers during spring.

By the way your cheeks warmed, you could tell your entire face was betraying your shyness, especially when Heeseung offered you a genuine, content smile, as if he were expressly happy that you had allowed him to see you in this form.

He still hadn’t unclasped your bra and had only removed his own shirt, dragging out painfully the moment of leaving you both naked.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help the small flicker of worry, a strong fear of disappointing Heeseung.

You had only had sex once in your life, with an ex-boyfriend you had trusted enough to take that step, believing that being in a relationship would make it less hurtful and more enjoyable. You were wrong.

Not only had you suffered physically from his lack of care, but you hadn’t even come close to reaching your own orgasm.

Heeseung knew the rough outline of that story. He was aware that you weren’t a virgin anymore but hadn’t asked for too many details. Partly because he hated the thought of someone else being the one to take that from you.

A pang of jealousy lingered, even though, at the time – just a few months ago – he hadn’t seriously considered taking such a step with you.

It was only after your breakup, and the frustration that radiated off you, that Heeseung decided to act. He couldn’t stand the idea of you putting yourself down, settling for men who gave you less than the bare minimum, when he was right there, longing to give you the world.

“Let me see you too, Hee.”

Your soft request came accompanied by a gentle caress over Heeseung’s slightly flustered cheeks, his lovingly expression hiding the inner battle he was fighting to keep himself composed.

He gave a small nod, standing up from the bed to remove the last of his clothes, granting you the sinful sight of his body, a thin sheen of sweat accentuating the bronzed tone of his skin. Your gaze dropped slowly towards his erection, standing stiff, flushed, with the tip in a darker shade, glistening with leaking precum.

“Hot,” you murmured quietly, the word barely leaving your lips. But in the stillness of the room, Heeseung heard it.

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, shy and uncharacteristic – a glimpse of the awkward, reserved side of your friend that you loved teasing, the side that wasn’t used to receiving compliments and always got adorably flustered when they came.

You giggled, beckoning him with a curl of your finger. “Come here, hmm?”

And who was Heeseung to deny you?

In an instant, he reclaimed his place over your body, his mouth finding its way to the smoothness of your chest, lips grazing and tasting your skin. His hands slid behind your back, intent on finally removing the last piece of fabric that kept you hidden from him, and it took less than seconds for you to whimper, slamming your eyes shut as you felt Heeseung gently nip at your nipple.

“Hurry up,” you muttered within a squirm. “Please, Hee. I need you inside me."

You were quick and precise in expressing your desire, your contorted expression of pleasure blended with frustration making it clear that you didn’t want any more delays, especially since he had already dragged things out too much, and you were about to crawl the walls around you to feel him properly.

“Condom?” He murmured against your skin, smiling slightly at your desperation, though he was just as bad, if not worse.

“I don’t have it,” you moaned as he bit your stomach while lowering his hot, wet kisses. Your hands tried to find support in anything – the sheets, his hair, his shoulders – in order to ground yourself, while Heeseung seemed too calm for his own good. “But we don’t need it.”

Immediately, Heeseung froze. He stopped and lifted his gaze, scanning your face for any trace of teasing or hesitation in your words, half-expecting you to be joking or playing around, but instead, all he found was the raw, unfiltered desire of your soul exposed before him.

“I trust you,” you whispered in between your heavy breaths, a soft smile tugging at your lips that countered any remnant doubt resting inside Heeseung. You gently caressed his cheek, pulling him back to you, your eyes locking in a quiet promise that only you two knew the meaning. “I trust you, Hee.”

That was the tipping point. You, who had been wondering how Heeseung maintained such control, watched as his tender nearly relaxed gaze vanished entirely, swallowed by a wave of desire, as if pure lust had consumed his state completely.

“Don’t say that, love,” a murmur. His voice trembled, just as his arms struggled to hold himself still. He then kissed you intensely, shutting down any possibility of you retorting the pet name, barely giving you time to recognize how your heart skipped a beat.

Heeseung’s hips shifted in the precise motion to bring you closer, to claim you. You shivered.

“I’m going insane, you have no fucking idea.”

Though the choice of words said behind gritted teeth, it was clear Heeseung gravitated towards vulnerability rather than anything harsh; he sounded unsteady, but not in a worrying way. It seemed as if he had surrendered completely to your existence, almost like a personal devotion.

His soft, now familiar lips found home on yours again, pulling you into a singular kiss filled with unspoken emotions, while one of Heeseung's hands gently caressed your waist to keep you still, beginning to position his hardness against your aching hole.

Feeling the distinct pressure in that area generated an unconscious and uncontrollable tension in you, your shoulders stiffening, your hands gripping Heeseung's arms immediately and your mouth stopping properly working as the fear of the pain that would follow from that simple action started to creep up your spine.

“What's wrong, love?” Heeseung asked kindly, pausing his movements as he noticed the sudden rigidity in your body; he had only inserted the tip, and you had become completely tense.

“N–Nothing…” You shook your head, your eyes clenched closed as you tried to regulate your heartbeat and breaths. So far, there was no burning sensation where Heeseung had placed himself, but still, you were afraid.

By any means he was big, you had gotten a beautiful view of him just a few minutes ago, and although your mouth watered to have him fully inside you, there was a lingering feeling that held your soothness back.

“Baby…” Heeseung murmured softly, his voice carrying a subtle insistence as he sensed the clear discomfort and the blatant lie in your response, his concerned eyes searching for any hint of truth in your contorted expression.

“I’m sorry.” You pouted, refusing to open your eyes, the weight of vulnerability overwhelming you.

“For what?” He asked, a small trace of confusion in his voice, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he offered you the choice to end it without guilt or hesitation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurted, snapping your eyes open, your pupils wide and searching his face. Your head shook vehemently, your hands gripping his shoulders in a reflexive act of urgency as well as your legs, wrapping around his waist to keep him in place.

“Then what is it, baby?”

Heeseung adjusted his body slightly, his movements deliberate and tender, ensuring he wouldn’t press into you too forcefully. He kept his tip brushing against your folds, the sensation teasingly close but never quite crossing the threshold. He silently made the decision not to push you further unless you signaled otherwise.

“It’s just…” You exhaled shakily, your eyes downcast, unable to meet his unwavering gaze. “I’ve never– I mean, I did have sex once, but it was so painful, and it hurt so much, and I didn’t even… Y’know…”

You spoke in a flurry, your words tumbling out in a nervous rush, and through it, Heeseung caught the part of the story you had kept hidden and he never dared to ask about. His heart clenched, it became clear that this was a truth that now needed care.

“He wasn’t even that big, but it hurt because he didn’t care about me, and–”

“My love.” Heeseung interrupted, his voice breaking through with a soft, comforting tone. You stopped speaking instantly, blinking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that held so much unspoken trust. He smiled warmly, a reassuring tenderness in his touch. “I’d never hurt you,” he whispered, his voice firm with sincerity. “And I’d never, ever force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, needy, desperate even. “I’m just… afraid.”

“We can take it slow, love,” he said, his words a mutual understanding between you both, the promise of patience in his voice.

He slowly began to press his tip into you again, the sensation soft but insistent, giving you time to adjust. You swallowed thickly, your breath hitching as you tried to calm the anxiety racing through you.

There were sounds threatening to escape your throat that you couldn't properly control, so you just let them out.

“Relax, alright? It’s me. I’m your best friend. I’m not going to hurt you. We can stop whenever you want.”

Through reassuring phrases and tender kisses planted over your face – and mainly on your parted lips –, Heeseung deliberately entered you whole, until his dick was being hugged by your clenching walls and his pelvis fully met your body.

You took a deep breath several times. The sensation was uncomfortable, strange; there was an intruder inside you, and you couldn't quite enjoy the so-called pleasure during sex due to it, but as the long seconds passed and your body relaxed, you began to adjust to the weight of Heeseung's length inside you.

And finally you noticed that Heeseung himself had buried his face at the crook of your neck, breathing as heavy as you, completely frozen in place.

“Hee?” You called and gave a soft stroke to his hair.

“Give me a minute,” the words came rapidly and slurred, like an incomprehensible mumble.

You quirked an eyebrow, trying to find his face to read whatever was happening.

“Are you okay?”

Heeseung groaned. “Yes. It’s just…” He gulped, clutching his eyes closed and grunting a curse, his hands tightening their grip on your waist. “Fuck—You feel amazing, baby.” His breath hitched as his body tensed, muscles flexing under the strain of trying to hold back. “I need a minute.”

“Alright…”

Although you couldn’t understand why, you just… Waited. But he made sure to add.

“So fucking tight–” Something about how desperate and lost he sounded close to your ear had your walls clenching even more. “I can’t– I don’t wanna cum right now.”

There was no plausible explanation for the flutter in your chest, let alone the heat that spread across every inch of your skin, hitting your core in a way that was almost overwhelming after hearing his confession.

Knowing that Heeseung was physically unable to move, simply because his release was so close – practically edging himself – made you feel more thrilled than you would ever admit out loud.

As the best of friends – after all, you hadn’t defined your relationship yet –, you chose the path of teasing, letting out a light giggle and giving a playful tap on his back as you said, “Take your time, big boy. I'm not going anywhere.”

Heeseung chuckled, though the sound was tinged with frustration and craving, the weight of his restraint still palpable.

Throughout the heated makeout moment, he was already far too affected – though he wouldn’t admit it now, having your lips against his had been more than enough to leave him ridiculously hard. The shameless grinding had teased his sensitivity with just the right intensity, pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

Now, finally experiencing the tightness of your pussy enveloping around his cock, it was a unique kind of downfall that made his control slip past his fingers, his entire body shivering as trying to contain himself.

“I wanna– I wanna last longer for you,” a breathy, shaky moan escaped when he tried to move, pulling back just a little to shove back again. “Fuck baby…”

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity.

He couldn’t find the right explanation to how good your wet, warm interior welcomed him in an addictive sensation of fulfillment, as if he had found the exact place he needed and wanted to be.

However, as he began to set a slow, tantalizing rhythm, not only to himself but for you not to feel any pain, your soft, breathy noises became the driving force behind his every move.

Each sound you made was like music to his ears, embedding itself deeply in his mind and shaping his every decision; they spurred him on, a motivator to remain as steady and deliberate as possible, even as his own restraint threatened to crumble.

Heeseung was vividly avoiding to fall into the depths of his true needs of egoisticaly fucking you hard and fast.

And then, you begged.

“Can you go faster? Please?”

A guttural groan was Heeseung’s immediate response, primal and unrestrained, as if your request alone had sent him reeling like a starving hunter finally closing in on its prey.

He paused for a beat, letting the weight of your words settle between the thick air and then shifted the pace, growing more intense, aiming for a sharper, purposeful motion.

Heeseung straightened slightly, lifting his torso enough to pull his face from the haven of your neck and give himself a clear view of your beautiful pleasured face. His gaze met yours briefly before going downward, to the mesmerizing connection of your bodies moving together – your hips chasing his pounds like your life depended on it.

Your hazed sight saw his brows furrowing as well as his pursed lips that reflected his immense concentration. Sweat clung to his skin, a few damp strands of hair got stuck to his forehead while the rest, equally damp, fell forward and lightly brushed your face with every thrust.

That sight was a sinful privilege; watching him completely undone yet intensely focused was enough to leave you breathless. And still, your slightly high-pitched whimpers harmonized with each precise thrust.

You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, and instinctively, you mirrored that grip in your hands, clutching Heeseung’s hair as you pulled him into a messy kiss. Tongues moved sloppily, chasing each other and swallowing his deep groans along with your incoherent pleas for him not to stop.

A mutual desire began to creep, one that neither of you wanted to escape, a longing as deep as two bodies yearning, painfully, to occupy the same space and merge together. It became evident in the way you clung to him, your arms wrapping around Heeseung's warm, sweaty body, pressing him down, not even caring about the slight pain in your sensitive boobs as you did so.

“I think I’m close,” you managed to announce amidst the intoxicating chaos of your senses.

There was a thick veil of lust enveloping you both, leaving you utterly dazed; the sensation was surreal, overwhelmingly good, and for the first time you truly understood what people meant when they talked about sex.

Heeseung had heard your voice distant and muffled, since his mind had drifted away, lost in the overwhelming mix of pleasure and the aching pain of edging his orgasm; his leaking precum started to blend with your sticky arousal as both of you reached over the edge.

Your eyes rolled when Heeseung started to pound into a specific spot in you, stirring your mouth to fall open with soft cries slipping past your throat, while your nails dug into the flesh of his back, scratching strong enough to leave marks.

Heeseung barely registered it at first, though he would wear those marks proudly once he did. Still, it stung, a faint burn that somehow awakened his primal need to let go. Added to it, your pussy started to pulse and clench tightly against his painfully sensitive shaft. And so, he begged.

“Please, cum for me,” a small pause to breathe. “Please, I need you to– Please…”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you trembled. Listening to Heeseung’s broken voice asking you for something you couldn’t quite control bordered the inexplicable and finally it snapped.

You arched your back and went silent immediately, as if the entire world around you disappeared. You could hear and feel the weight of your heartbeats echoing through you, feel the vibrations of your body, hear the faint, distant noises of Heeseung’s moans and curses and the sound of your bodies colliding.

The intensity of your climax had you gasping for air right after you managed to regain a small portion of your consciousness, your legs squirming as the pleasure took over.

Meanwhile, Heeseung barely pulled out in time, ensuring he had guided you through your high enough to leave you satisfied.

He would blame himself later for not giving you his absolute best. For now, his focus was on relieving the unbearable, painful tightness in his balls and dick. And so he did, releasing a guttural groan that seemed to resonate from the depths of his soul before spilling out into a delicious sound.

The wave that coursed through his body was devastatingly intense, leaving him trembling and unsteady to the point where his arms briefly faltered in holding him up.

You parted your tired eyes just enough to watch as he came all over your stomach – so much of it that it trickled down onto the sheets beneath you, leaving you completely sticky.

Both of you fought for air, desperately panting as your bodies surrendered, sinking into an overwhelming state of relaxation. A genuine urge to drift into sleep washed over you, your arms falling limply at your sides as your heavy-lidded eyes fought a losing battle to stay open.

You gave up to the exhaustion, watching through half-closed eyes as Heeseung collapsed into the space beside you.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You tried to blink away your fatigue, but only managed to respond in a low, drowsy whisper, “For what?”

“I lost control. I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. I ruined your sheets. And… you’re all sticky. I know you hate being sticky.”

A quiet giggle escaped your lips at his string of concerns, your body vibrating with a warm, joyous satisfaction at the depth of the bond you shared. It was the expected contrast: Heeseung, overthinking every detail of his performance, and you, utterly smitten, finding his anxieties endearing.

“I loved it, Hee.”

Your praise was genuine, carrying a soft hint of reassurance to ease his insecurity. There wasn’t a single part of you that could ever truly mind the things he listed – not even his so-called mistakes.

“You were gentle and loving,” you continued, brushing a hand against the arm that sweetly wrapped around you, avoiding the result of the earlier moment.

Heeseung’s face pressed against yours with his breath tickling your skin – an intimacy you could easily grow used to, but for now, had your heart fluttering.

“And even when you ‘lost control,’ you stayed here. With me.”

Heeseung hummed with a hint of contentment, a faint smile creeping through his tensed barriers after your comforting words. He shifted like a puppy snuggling into a cozy corner, a gesture he did with you a few times before, but never when you were both so intimately bare in that way.

You both remained silent for a while, absorbing the reality of what had just unfolded.

No openly affectionate words were exchanged. Instead, actions took the lead, allowing you to share an intimate, deeply personal moment guided by mutual pleasure. There was no need for a romantic confession – it felt unnecessary.

Every small gesture during the earlier moment – from Heeseung's steady calmness as he talked you through it, easing your anxiety, to the way you reassured him after the end about how well he did – spoke volumes. It was more than enough to prove that the love between you burned far beyond the bounds of friendship.

Heeseung was lost in thought, exhilarated by having been able to share such a profound connection with you. The mutual desire for each other was undeniable, and no words could ever compare to the overwhelming sensation of, now, not simply having the facility to say he loved you – as he had so often as a friend – but to show it.

To demonstrate to you how every fiber of his being, his soul, his existence, was drawn to you, yearning for you, consumed by you.

“Hm, this sticky thing on my stomach is really bothering me,” you broke the silence as the haze cleared and the awareness of your body set in. You pushed his arm aside, preparing to leave the bed and clean yourself up.

“Shit,” Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he got on his feet before you could.

As he had mentioned earlier, you hated feeling sticky. He realized might had fucked it up by neglecting to help you clean up, by not providing the aftercare you deserved.

Yet, he couldn’t blame himself too harshly; everything about the moment had left him utterly dizzy in the best way possible. It felt like he had lived out a dream once thought unattainable, and the surrealness of it all still lingered.

Your soft, familiar voice snapped him back to reality, reminding him there were consequences to address, and he wanted nothing more than to face each one with you, in every detail, if it meant staying by your side.

“Let me help, okay?” He eagerly offered, reaching out to steady you as you sat up. He barely suppressed a laugh at the grimace that overtook your face as the sticky fluid slid from your stomach to your thighs.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you teased as you walked to the bathroom together. “You’re hot, and all of this was ridiculously amazing, but I really don’t like all this cum–”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Heeseung interrupted, gently but insistently pushing you to sit on the toilet.

“Pee,” he instructed firmly, yet calm.

You blinked up at him in confusion, one eyebrow raised.

“It helps prevent infections,” he clarified.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes, staring at him for a moment. He stared back. The scene was unexpectedly comical – both of you naked, exchanging deadpan looks.

“Get out of the bathroom, silly.”

“I don’t think that’s really neces–”

“I can’t pee with you here,” you cut him off.

He narrowed his eyes at you but eventually let out a quiet, “Fine, fine,” leaving the bathroom with an exaggerated huff, though he didn’t bother closing the door.

You giggled at his childish behavior, marveling at the man who had once been your friend. Friend.

It wasn’t the right word anymore. Something more significant had blossomed between you, unspoken yet undeniably present.

Once you finished, Heeseung returned to the bathroom and began to bathe you. It was endearing to feel his gentle, careful touch as he cleaned your back, giving you the space to take care of yourself properly.

You helped him wash his hair in return, complaining when he tried to use your expensive shampoo. But you relented when he deployed his infallible tactics: wide, pleading eyes and an exaggerated pout, softly begging, “Please,” in a tone so whiny it was impossible not to laugh.

Your heart ached with love for this man. The one who had once been your friend and, now, the one with whom you had crossed the line.

When you returned to the bedroom, Heeseung had already changed the sheets, leaving the bed fresh and inviting, ready to welcome you back into its warmth.

“Lie down here with me?” You murmured softly.

The sun was already below the horizon, and the air was pleasantly cool. A gentle breeze slipped through the slight gap in the window, rustling the curtains and brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps

The warmth of your recent shower made you extra sensitive to the chill, and noticing this, Heeseung moved to close the window before settling into the empty space beside you.

It didn’t take long for you to naturally nestle into one another, as though this kind of closeness was second nature. And it was.

You had always been comfortable with affectionate touches – warm hugs and innocent caresses were a constant part of your daily routine, alongside the playful teasing that defined your relationship. But now, something new lingered in the air: a tension, subtle and undeniable, that neither of you seemed brave enough to confront.

It felt as though acknowledging the shift, putting words to the new dynamic between you, might unravel it entirely – like opening Pandora’s box and being swallowed by its consequences. Neither of you knew what “dating” the other would look like, nor could you say for certain that this was even the stage you had reached. The unspoken remained deafeningly loud.

Your heart raced as you melted into the comforting warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. The familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach now mingled with a bittersweet sense of uncertainty about what lay ahead.

Despite that, you were usually the one to take control in slightly uncomfortable situations – like when Heeseung started bringing certain acquaintances into the apartment you shared, one of whom had wandered into your room uninvited, sparking a minor conflict that Heeseung quickly accepted responsibility for.

“If you promise to stop ignoring the elephant in the room, I promise to do the same,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Heeseung had been waiting for you to speak first. You always did. And that thought made a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. Even after everything, you were still... you.

Always you.

He was afraid, of course, that things might change drastically. There was a gnawing fear that the friendship you shared could crumble in the worst possible way. But in moments like this, when you unconsciously reminded him that no matter what, it was still the two of you, he felt a sense of calm.

“Go on a date with me tomorrow,” he murmured suddenly.

You blinked, caught off guard by his directness. His voice was quiet, a little tentative, but firm enough to make you pause. Even with a slight tremor of apprehension at the thought of stepping into the unknown with him, you nodded.

“Only if it’s not a movie date,” you replied with a light tone.

Heeseung laughed, his chest rising and falling as the sound escaped him, and the sensation of your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his abdomen made him shiver.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured you.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze. The way he looked at you, dripping with unfiltered affection was almost overwhelming in the best way. And you knew, just as he did, that the feelings you held for him were reciprocated in full.

You had crossed the line, yes. But now, together, you were venturing into new territory, ready to claim and navigate this uncharted space in your relationship. And somehow, it didn’t feel so terrifying when you remembered that, no matter what, it was still the two of you against the world.

#heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heegyukeluv works

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ivymarquis · 2 days ago

Text

Say You Won't Let Go

Greedy Little Thing

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 4.3k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Zombie!AU, PiV, Oral (F!Receiving), pregnancy sex, wee bit of lactation kink

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

If you thought your solo play time in the shower would calm you down, you thought wrong.

You’re truly spinning out and losing your mind. That is the only reasonable explanation for the level of arousal flooding your system at the moment.

All of a sudden you can’t help but be keyed into John’s every move. And surely you are projecting every depraved thought squirming around in your little brain- you’re imagining that he’s encroaching that much more into your personal space. His hands- broad and warm- gentle as always feel a bit firmer with his hold as he either brushes past you or herds you where he wants you.

You’re distracted, eyes fixated at the boarded up windows like they’re a big screen showing your favorite sitcom. The book you found lies open on the table, failing to capture your interest in favor of your imagination. Of another universe where John’s interest isn’t a figment of your imagination and he’s willing to do something about it.

“Something on your mind, Love?” John’s voice startles you out of your thoughts and has you jumping on reflex. “Easy- ‘s just me,” he soothes as he crosses the distance from the doorway to the table you’re sitting at.

“Nothing important,” you answer breezily, trying desperately to hide that you were just thinking about the various ways he could fold you like a piece of paper. Can always lie and claim to be reminiscing on the past.

He has no reason to doubt you, the rumbling hum of acknowledgment from him showing that you’ve not gained any unwanted attention.

You don’t know what’s wrong with you, what all of a sudden has you acting like a cat in heat. The only thing you haven’t done at this point is lift your skirts and bend over the table in invitation.

Any hope you may have of getting back into your book is dashed as he comes closer.

You’ve never been one to fixate on how a man smells- and not even cologne, since that’s not an option these days really. But how he actually smells- you have no idea if you’re pulling off subtle well, but he smells divine and you know nothing will get done if you don’t get a hold of yourself.

Hopefully your sinful thoughts are not evident on your face, but if they are then he doesn’t call you on it.

It’s not uncommon for John to leave you alone for stretches and sporadically swing by to check on you. You know he’s in the neighborhood lurking for supplies and hoping to scrap up radio parts.

The drop ins soothe your anxiety- that he is just across the street, or a few houses down.

Although it’s still the end of the world and anything can happen. You begrudgingly accept that he has to leave on occasion so you don’t starve to death in the middle of winter in this frozen tundra.

“Gonna need to go further out today, Love. Not sure when I’ll be back.”

Your displeasure is blatant across your face.

“None of that, now,” he reproaches firmly. “I’ll come back when I can. I want you back upstairs before the sun goes down.”

You’re pouting like a child, your earlier fantasies completely derailed as your thoughts swirl around the anxiety of being abandoned. Of course there’s a part of you that knows this is an inevitability. There’s only so many supplies in the area. John is reluctant to move you, knowing that the pair of you are relatively safe and hidden which means he’ll have to move further out to scavenge to care for you.

Your lack of an immediate response prompts him to reach out and cup your face, prying your mind from your surly thoughts. By now you know him well enough to understand the cue for what it is- a silent ask for you to soften back up to him and quit being a brat about him leaving.

The logical part of your brain understands that there’s no choice considering you don’t wish to starve to death. Unfortunately until further notice your hormones are what call the shots so you can’t help yourself other than to be in duress over the thought of John leaving you for more than a few hours.

“Why are you being difficult, hm?” He ponders, tone substantially softer than one might expect.

“I’m not trying to be,” you protest gently, settling into his hold.

“And yet here we are,” his tone is more amused than anything else.

His free hand drops to your belly, something that immediately garners the attention of your baby who gives a volley of kicks.

“You can’t wind him up and then leave me here alone to deal with him,” now it’s your turn to reproach John good naturedly.

Again, you blame your hormones. You like John’s hands on you- like John touching you.

“He’ll be a good lad for his mummy, won’t he?” He prompts the baby, and you don’t protest as his hand smooths down your belly.

This time your child is not called to action, deciding to spare your poor ribs from another litany of kicks. You decide to not question the way he immediately quiets down at John’s prompting.

Despite the conversation you just had, you can’t help but pout and mope as John leaves. You keep it to yourself, even though you know your anxiety is bleeding through and he knows exactly what your thoughts on the matter are.

There’s nothing to be done for it though, so you’re left alone with nothing but Fred’s shadow and your child for company.

You listen to John’s request and begin your trek up the stairs just before it starts to get dark. The natural lighting in the house is weird and casts odd shadows. It's overcast and a new moon, which will leave little to guide you with when the sun goes down.

With only your thoughts to occupy you, you think about silly little things because if you don’t then you’ll be cognizant of the crushing realization of your solitude. That John is out there somewhere in the murky darkness and there is no guarantee that he will come back to you.

You’d have made a piss poor military wife.

It’s easier to think about how things could be in another life- if you would have met the handsome captain in some bar and flirted shamelessly in the hopes that he liked you enough to take you home and show you a good time.

That you were at his home, in his bed, with his baby nestled under your ribcage.

But you’re not, although in a way you are as close to that fantasy as you can get.

You’re tucked into the little hidey hole that John has chosen to squirrel you away, waiting for his return upstairs just as he asked while your child does somersaults and uses a kidney for soccer practice.

Somewhere between bouts of fretting, you manage to fall asleep. It’s certainly not the best sleep of your life by any stretch but you’ve also had worse without question.

It’s also easily disrupted. There’s a part of you that is still keen to your surroundings- that’s still aware that you’re alone in the dark and the cold, and that to truly slip under the haze of sleep could sign your death warrant.

You don’t quite wake at the sound of the door creaking, but you drift that much closer to the land of the living.

It’s when the bed dips under his weight that you stir, partly in offense at the cold air that creeps under the covers with him.

The greeting that escapes you is more of a whine than anything else, hands grabbing at him and trying to burrow under the weight of him.

“I’m right here, lovely- told you I’d be back.” He soothes you like an over reactive pet that’s absolutely enthralled with his return and showcasing it by trying to crawl into his skin.

He’s warm, a welcome reprieve from the biting cold waiting for you just outside your blankets. You want to melt at the sensation of his hands on your back. You’re a puddle of a human being in his hold.

And somewhere between your squirming and his soothing, you’re not completely sure who ends up kissing who first but you have zero complaints.

Quickly your searching hands find purchase on him, just as his anchor you to him.

You’re drowning, you think- head dizzy, completely disoriented as lust burns through you. This is everything you’ve been pining for and now that it’s in your hold you don’t quite know what to do with it.

John rolls you gently onto your back as the pair of you break for air- hovers above you, mindful of your belly while still not being too far away.

“Tell me to stop,” he looks as flustered as you feel, and a part of you preens in the knowledge that you’ve impacted him the way he’s impacted you. That you haven’t been the only one yearning for more.

“Please don’t s-“ you don’t even finish the sentence before he’s on you again, the covers rustling as he shuffles to position himself closer to you.

“Good girl” he praises against your lips, the words itching something seated deep inside you.

John’s hands roam your body, searching for the hemline of your dress only to hike the skirt up to your hips once he finds it.

“Please,” you whimper and try to arch under his touch.

Rather than immediately diving under the skirt of your dress, he continues to feel up your chest, back, hips and thighs. You could practically melt at the attention, gladly feeling him up in turn before your hands grope down his chest to pry at his shirt. Your make out is briefly interrupted as he shucks his shirt, although in the dim lighting of the dark it’s hard to fully appreciate everything he’s displaying at the moment.

“God, you are soft,” he marvels, lips leaving yours to kiss down your neck.

You realize that he’s trying to keep the covers over you as he works your dress up your body, pooling the fabric around your collar bones as his attention drifts from your neck to your sternum.

One hand gropes at a breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue, immediately making you gasp and grab his hair.

“Gentle!” You correct him- while under normal circumstances his grip on you would have been perfectly acceptable, you’re currently very pregnant and part of that means your chest has been sore the last few weeks. You’re so sensitive now.

“I’m sorry, lovely. I’ll be gentle,” he apologizes, and you relax back into the mattress.True to his promise, John is far more careful of where he gropes and kisses, delighting in all the noises you make.

The sensitivity in your breasts has you squirming underneath him, whining in pleasure.

You feel strung out and desperate, some nebulous part of you aware that you're in trouble if you're already this amped up and he's barely begun to touch you yet.

Arching into his hold, you both freeze at the same moment you feel something akin to a release in the pressure of your chest. You haven't quite been sure when you would start actually lactating- knowing that the real stuff wouldn't come in until after birth, but knowing that there was the colostrum prior.

You're not quite sure what you feel. Flustered? Relieved? Embarrassed? But John remains unflappable, a mere "Tastes sweet" before returning to the task at hand.

The hand not anchoring your breast for his mouth drifts down your side, ghosting over the fabric of your underwear. You're wet- keenly aware of how his fingers trace across your skin. Gooseflesh rises in the wake of his touch, something to do less with the all encompassing chill that you two are trying to avoid and more to do with the lust that is firmly growing in your belly. The gusset of your panties doesn't take long to soak as he teases you over the fabric.

Your hips twitch, trying desperately to follow his fingers.

You want more. It's been so long since you've had anyone touch you, and the weight of John over you feels phenomenal. "Please, John- I need you to touch me." Never in all your days have you actually begged a man to touch you, but your life has just been full of unexpected surprises lately.

"I'll take care of you, lovely- gotta be patient," he consoles you, paired with a teasing suck of one nipple before moving across your chest to get to the other one.

You don't want to be patient. You want him- now- and even though you actively have him right in this moment it's somehow still not enough. You'd say you're like an animal in heat, but animals in heat aren't usually ready to calve at any moment. It's almost alarming how little control you have over your own body right now. You're little more than your most base urges with spread thighs and heaving breaths as you keenly watch him.

"Gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart," he soothes with his words as his hand slips under the waistband of your panties. "'m not a small man- don't want to hurt you."

You feel dizzy just at the thought. You're well acquainted with what he's packing at this point, and the knowledge he's going to try to make sure it's good for you too is enough for you to find what minimal patience you possess.

The feel of his fingertips lightly searching for your clit has your legs spreading and thighs twitching in anticipation. He's an insufferable tease, tracing the pad of one calloused fingertip around your vulva and teasing the seam of your lower lips. Just enough to keep you keyed in on him, hook line and sinker, whining for more like an anxious dog.

When he finally parts your pussy with his fingers, you arch up into his hold as he spreads your wetness around. "Bein’ such a good girl f'r me" his praise is low and gravely and shoots straight between your thighs.

God the things that this man could make you do if he asked you nicely.

"John, please!"

"So impatient" he chuckles against your soft skin, nipping at you ever so carefully. Just enough to get your skin between his teeth, the squeal that escapes you more in anticipation than from any actual discomfort.

He shushes you, lapping at the patch of skin that he nipped in a mock apology as the hand slipping between your lower lips slides one finger inside of you.

There's certainly more to his one finger than to your own, and you must be such a greedy little thing tonight because you're still wanting another finger. John is in no hurry it seems, content to rock his one finger in and out of you as your body gets wetter in preparation of future events.

His hand doesn't leave from between your thighs, but he moves further under the covers where they've obscured him completely, falling around your collar bones. Certainly warmer for the pair of you for him to do this like this, although your hips are already rocking.

You've got a reasonable guess on what he's about to do, but not being able to physically see him does, you admit, add a certain level of excitement. There's nothing you can do other than lay on your back patiently like a good girl and wait for him to make his next move. His warm breath on your pussy makes you jolt, a thrill shooting up your spine.

You haven't gotten head in ages- certainly not with your last beau.

"Try to be quiet for me, lovely. Don't need anything outside hearing your pretty noises," is all the warning you get before he's lowering his mouth to you.

It is certainly easier said than done- partly you manage to keep your whines and whimpers down, but it just makes your eyes want to roll back the way John doesn't hesitate to put his tongue to work.With a cursory lap of your vulva, he's quick to hone his attention on your clit while his finger continues to slip in and out of you.

After a few thrusts of his wrists you have to turn your head and muffle yourself with a pillow as he gives you the second finger you've been so keen for. His fingers stroking you from the inside paired with his tongue on your clit is certainly enough to work you steadily towards your orgasm.

You're not sure that you're going to last much longer when he starts to crook his fingers against the anterior wall of you- seems he knows exactly how to try to wring out every last drop of pleasure from you, and you're more than game to let him.

"John," your whine is a small, pleading thing this time- not the same feverish anxious plea from earlier, attempting to get him to give exactly what you want. This is a softer cry, a plea and an acknowledgement all wrapped together that he will take you where you're trying to go if you'll just let him do it.

Cold be damned, your activities under the sheets have a sheen of sweat breaking out over your skin. You pull the blanket off of you, partially because you're starting to get hot and partially on the reflex that you want to watch him- although that isn't really going to be an option with your belly in the way. "Oh my God, please don't stop,” you beg, perfectly able to picture the smug grin on his face as you feel the vibration of him chuckling in amusement at you.

Your squirming is dealt with swiftly as he grips one of your hips with his free hand, holding you in place as you rock against his mouth. The pleasure coiling in your belly twists down tighter and tighter, your staccato breaths hitching as he pushes you closer to your climax.

Right when the dam breaks, it seems both of you were on the same page- one of your hands clamping over your mouth to muffle yourself right at the moment John straightens a bit and abandons your hip in favor of trying to cover your mouth as well.

Which suddenly puts you in the position of being completely at his mercy- that he's using the hand buried between your legs to see how much he can get you to squeal now that your noises are muffled to his standard.

When he lets up, you're dizzy and gasping for air. This is so much more intense than the orgasm you'd brought yourself to in the shower and that one had literally brought you to your knees. There's a part of your brain still cognizant enough that you want to return the favor- That he's made you feel absolutely divine and it's only fair to reciprocate that.

However, rather than functional words, all you can come up with is to just paw at the top of his pants, mumbling more so than speaking "I want- I-"

Despite your complete lack of clarity, he seems to understand what your mission is regardless.

"We can worry about that later, Love," he assures you, coaxing you onto your side and getting in close behind you. Despite having just gotten yours, for a moment you are incredulous at the idea that he's about to just tuck you back into bed and go to sleep.Then you realize the covers are still down around your ankles, and your night dress up across your breasts- and, blessedly, that he's pulling down his pants.

God you wish you could see it, but between the darkness and the angle with him behind you it's not really an option. You can see enough shadows to have a vague idea of where he is behind you, but also the lack of vision is adding to the experience.

Just groping and touching in the dark like a pair of frisky teenagers trying to not get caught.

"I've got what you need right here, pretty girl- lift your leg up for me," he instructs and you comply immediately.

Oh God he's big. You knew that, sorta- have been well acquainted with what he feels like pressing up against you with morning wood. And he just told you that you needed to be prepped in order to take him.

But somehow this feels completely different, and here you are lying soft and compliant on your side with your legs spread wondering how the fuck he's going to make it fit.You're completely gagging for it either way.

"Please, please, plea-" you beg, head turning his direction in the dark even if you can't see well. Your begging is cut off as he drags his cock across your swollen folds, sensitive from the earlier attention he paid to you.

"Easy, lovely. Told you I'd take care of you," he instructs, and it takes everything in you to lie still in his hold while he lines himself up with you.

Your mind is spinning a hundred miles an hour, excited by the prospect as he finally pushes the head in and gives a shallow thrust.

His chest is lined up to your back, one hand helping prop up your thigh to give better access. It's the most intimate position the two of you can manage, and it gives you a front row seat as he groans low in the back of his throat.

Oh, you like that noise.

You want to hear him make it again.

"Christ you're warm," he chokes, and a deep satisfaction rolls through you. Just knowing that he's as affected by you, as you are by him is enough to stroke your ego.

"John, I can't wait anymore," you whine, pushing back against him in encouragement for him to move. Since when did you become such a needy little mess? It would be embarrassing if you could bring yourself to care.

You've been long overdue for a good romp between the sheets, and you are just thrilled to pieces that the captain has decided to be the one up for the task.

"You are an impatient creature, aren't you pet?" His admonishment is a gentle thing, as are his first few thrusts as your bodies acclimate to each other.

"It feels so good. Want you to feel good too," you plead your case, and really who was he to disagree with that?

"Feels fuckin' incredible, lovely, don't you worry about that. Sweet pussy of yours has me like a vice," You push back against his thrusts, eyes rolling as the angle lets him hit that one spot in you. Pragmatically, this position was the best to allow the pair of you to be close to each other while not overcrowding around your belly- allow some level of intimacy, as John is able to get up close behind you, and you can reasonably turn to touch and paw at him. But God is it also working for you as far as bringing you pleasure. Each time his hips bury against the plush of your ass he hits that spot that makes your leg shake in his hold.

"Gonna get you there, lovely, just-" it strokes your ego that he's babbling slightly as he speaks. That he's just as excited to have access to your body, to let you have him like this.

"John, right there- I, ah!- Oh God, right there," your pleading seems to just ramp him up. He's not rough with you by any stretch, just clearly comfortable that he's not going to hurt you and confident that your body's acclimated to take all of him. It's your turn to babble, whimpering and whining in his hold. The hand holding your thigh spread coaxes your leg over his hip, hand drifting back to your clit to stroke the little bundle of nerves.

"Just like that, hm?" he asks you like your eyes aren't almost crossing from how good he's giving it to you.

"Oh my God, please!" your brain's possibly broken. Your entire universe has condensed down to you, and him, and this bed and how damn good he's making you feel.

A quick study, he's already learned your tells that you're inching closer to your climax.

"You can do it, pet- cum for me. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum all over my cock.”

You’re past words, clinging to him with one hand and the sheets with the other as you breathe and try to relax your tensing body.

“That’s it, good girl- deep breaths,” he coaxes you, and that’s the magic combination to get you seeing fireworks.

He must still doubt your ability to stifle your orgasm yourself, muffling your noises by grabbing your face and turning it so he can kiss you. You certainly have no complaints, aware by the way his pace changes for a few thrusts that he’s not very far behind you before reaching his own end.

For a moment, the pair of you recline in silence as you come down from your respective highs. The heat the two of you made quickly starts to dissipate in the night with the covers still bunched at the foot of the bed, making you shiver as the cold finally settles back over you.

That movement is enough to bring John out of whatever post coital bliss he was in, shifting behind you to pull out.

“Hang on, love,” he instructs while pulling his pants back over his hips before pulling your dress back down your legs and grabbing the covers.

You feel calm for the first time in days, content to laze on your side with John behind you as he snuggles in next to you.

You remember turning your head back towards him for one last kiss- something slow and soft and gentle- and don’t even realize it when you fall asleep.

Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡

#john price x reader #John x love #price x you #zombie au #pregnant reader #single mom reader #lactation kink #pregnancy sex #my writing

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