#this one is a bit more intense than their usual music | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

healmydesires · 3 months ago

Note

Ok so the recent post that you made on my filthy thot Logan how about you take the led of dominance one night instead of Logan and he absolutely loves it

a/n: nonnie, this is sooooo hot. I kinda had to adjust it a bit tho <3 hope you don’t mind! thank you for sending this!!! 🩷 mwah

you got my attention ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Though Logan lets you take control and show your appreciation, in the end, you're still the one begging for him.

genre: smut (with some fluff in the end tbh) (18+ mdni)

word count: 5,8k

warnings/tags: established relationship, same universe as this fic, porn with barely no plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, lap dance, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, sub!reader, use of handcuffs, slight choking, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, slight orgasm denial / edging but it’s short ngl, overstimulation, face sitting, doggy, rough sex, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk. some daddy kink? breeding kink fuck sorry. I wrote this while I’m on my period lol. lots of pet names. this is high key filthy. reader has hair, no further description though. after care. this is not beta read sorry!

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

You're sitting on the bed you share with Logan, waiting for him to enter the bedroom where you're dressed in soft, pastel lilac lace lingerie. You've been intimate with Logan many times before, so you know what to expect, but this time feels a little different. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling a bit anxious. Logan usually takes control in the bedroom, but tonight, you've been wondering what it would be like if you were the one to take the lead.

If there's one thing you love doing, it's teasing Logan. You thrive on the thrill of acting out just to get a reaction from him, and you enjoy being a brat more than anything. You love being submissive, and there's nothing you'd rather be.

But the thought of making him feel like you're in control, even if only for a few minutes, gets you all hot and bothered. You know Logan might take back control quickly, but just having that moment of power excites you.

You’ve always thought that stripping for Logan or putting on a show would be something fun to try one night. The idea of showing him how much you appreciate him by dancing to sensual music while he sits back on a chair or the couch, watching your body move, excites you. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot and turned on.

Logan’s entrance pulls you out of your thoughts as the door swings open. His eyes lock on you immediately, taking in the sight of the delicate lingerie clinging to your skin. “Hi, pretty girl,” he says with a playful smile, clearly appreciating the little fabric you're wearing.

The lingerie you’re wearing is a lilac set with turquoise and lilac flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders. His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Logan’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the lilac see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“Hi,” you manage to respond, your voice soft and trembling. Your cheeks heating up as his intense gaze travels up and down your body, sending a wave of warmth through you. For a brief second, you feel the familiar pull to submit, to let him take control like always. But then you remind yourself to stick to your original intentions.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Sticking to your original plan, you clear your throat and muster the courage to speak, despite the stutter. “C-could you, uh, sit in the chair?” You ask, nervously. Logan raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request.

An amused smile then tugs at the corners of his lips as he nods briefly, surprised but clearly understanding what you're trying to do. “Are you asking or telling?” Logan teases, his voice smooth, challenging, and dripping with amusement.

The playful tone sends a shiver through you, momentarily shaking your confidence. You know he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll follow through. Swallowing the nervousness building inside you, you take a slow, deep breath, determined to stick to your plan, no matter how intimidating his presence feels right now.

His response makes your heart pound in your chest. Mustering up every ounce of confidence you can find, you lock eyes with him and say, “I said go sit in the chair.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, definitely out of character for you, but there's a spark of amusement in Logan's eyes that encourages you to keep going.

You can tell he’s entertained by this rare side of you, and though it feels strange, the thrill of his reaction pushes you to stick with it. His eyebrow raises slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and for a moment, you feel a rush of control that excites you even more.

Logan never takes his eyes off you as he makes his way to the chair in the corner of the room. Settling into it, he leans back, his posture relaxed, yet his gaze remains sharp and unwavering. You watch as takes off his shirt and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard cock pressing against his boxers. The look he gives you, despite your attempt to take control, makes it clear he still holds the power. His mischievous eyes silently tell you he could end your little fantasy whenever he chooses, effortlessly reminding you of who’s really in charge, even as he watches you with quiet anticipation.

Logan watches you walk towards the closet, opening it before you kneel down on the soft carpet in front of it as your hand tries to reach for something inside the closet. His eyes travel to your ass, observing your curves, how plump your ass looks. The way your cheeks squeeze the barely there material between them.

You can practically feel his eyes burning into you—more specifically, your ass—because you know exactly where he's staring. The heat of his gaze makes you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. After rummaging for a moment, you finally find what you’re looking for and stand up slowly, making sure to give Logan a lingering view of your curves. The sound of his low groan reaches your ears, sending a thrill through you. You close the closet doors and turn around, carefully hiding the vivid pink, silky handcuffs you picked up along with the lingerie just days ago.

Keeping the handcuffs tucked behind your back, you walk slowly toward him, not quite ready to reveal your little secret yet. As you reach him, you lean down to plant a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. It ends far too quickly for his liking, and a deep grunt escapes his throat as you pull away, leaving him wanting more. Your hand trails lightly from one of his shoulders, across his chest, to the other, the soft touch of your fingers making his skin feel like it's on fire. You can feel the tension radiating off him, his body almost trembling from the contact, as you circle behind him. You know he could moan from just the simple touch, and the thought of having him on edge excites you even more.

You take the handcuffs, the sound of the metal clinking behind him making Logan’s ears perk up. You hook one around his wrist, half-expecting him to protest, but when he remains silent, you continue and secure the other cuff in place. You lift your head to his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss at his pulse point, making him moan as you finish up behind him. Walking back to face him, you notice a playful smile spread across his face, a look that makes your heart race.

“What?” you ask, mirroring his amused expression, but a sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you realise he’s not taking you seriously at all.

“Nothing, princess,” Logan shrugs, his grin widening.

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. “Sure.” Normally, on any other day, Logan would have you pinned beneath him or bent over his knee, spanking you until your skin is flushed and raw. But tonight, he finds it endearing to watch you take charge. So, instead of resisting, he decides to lean into it. In fact, he’s more than willing to let you explore this new dynamic and see just how far you’ll take it.

Then, you lean down and plant a soft kiss just beneath his ear, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Now sit back and watch. Let me take care of you,” you whisper seductively in his ear, your breath warm against his skin. With that, you glide toward the desk, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you search for the perfect song to dance to.

A smile spreads across your face as you finally settle on a track that feels just right. Pressing play, the smooth beats of "Sway" by Majid Jordan fill the room, setting the mood with its sultry rhythm. As the music envelops you, you can sense Logan’s eyes on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and desire. The moment feels electric, and you know it’s time to give him a show he won’t forget.

You stride toward the bed, positioning yourself right in the center of the room, directly in front of him. As the singer begins to croon the lyrics, you let the robe slide down your shoulders, pausing just at your elbows, deliberately teasing him with each movement. Swaying your hips slowly to the beat of the song, you lick your lips, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

With each deliberate motion, your hands glide slowly up and down your chest, accentuating your curves as you keep your eyes locked on his. You circle your hips, letting the rhythm guide you, fully aware of the effect it has on him. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the desire radiating from him, fueling your confidence as you embrace the moment.

Temptation, conversation, I hear what you sayin'~♪

You lose yourself to the song as you move your body closer to his, still keeping a good distance between you two.

“Baby girl, you’re so hot…” Logan groans as his eyes admire your body, his eyes flicking back and forth from one place to the other like he doesn’t know where to look.

Playing safe but we're losing our patience~♪

With each sway (literally, like the title of the song) of your hips, you move to the rhythm of the song, feeling the music pulse through you as you notice his gaze tracing the curves of your body, lingering over every dip and contour.

The combination of his awestruck expression and your confident movements sends a thrill through you, urging you to keep going. You enjoy the way he watches, almost hypnotised, as you revel in the moment, fully aware that you’re in control.

Doin' things that my body is cravin'~♪

Your fingers wander from your hips to your backside and you squeeze your cheeks softly as you give Logan a show. The moment he sees you touching yourself like this, a low moan escapes his lips, and you can’t help but bite your own in response, revelling in the effect you have on him.

The pleasure of his gaze fuels your confidence, making you feel even more desirable. You relish the way he watches, captivated and hungry for more, as you continue to tease him, lost in the thrill of the moment.

So amazing the way that she moves~♪ She's my favorite dancer~♪

Seductively, you slowly turn around, then you sink yourself to the floor. Once on your knees, you crawl steadily towards him. As you’re slowly making your way to him, you’re never breaking eye contact as you smile up at him.

As you draw closer, you rise up onto your knees, your hands gliding along his ankles and tracing up to his thighs. You gently spread his legs wider, making room for yourself between them. Logan's breath hitches in his throat at your boldness, and you can’t help but smile coyly as you bite your bottom lip, savouring his reaction.

Your hands continue their journey, moving from his thighs to his hips and then to his waist, feeling the heat radiating off him. Slowly but sensually, you rise in front of him, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence and allure as you prepare to captivate him even further.

“You’re breathtaking…” he moans your name while your lips move to ghost over his lips. You feel and see his squirm against the hold of the handcuffs.

You smirk as you hover your hips over his lap. Using the music to your advantage, you move your body to the rhythm of the song, making sure to emphasise on your movements. Your arms around his neck as you slowly lower your lower body on his lap, sitting down, your heat against his clothed cock straining against his underwear. Pressing your needy and throbbing clit against his dick. His eyes are gazing into yours, all you can see is lust and desire. You grind against his crotch making Logan groan at your movements. Finally you lean down your lips against his, swallowing his moans in your mouth.

“You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers breathily against your lips as you continue your little performance, swaying and grinding your hips against his. You hum with a smile before you capture his lips again.

His mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate. He parts his lips slightly to catch his breath. Your tongue sweeps across Logan’s lips making him gasp, tongue wrapping itself against his a moment later, hot and wet and steady as you taste his mouth and kiss him deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands wander all over his body. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet the more you grind against him. You whimper at the feel of him bucking his hips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and initiating a hungry kiss. The thong you’re wearing surely ruined by now, clinging against your wet folds.

Soon the music would fade into the background as all you can focus on is him. Logan’s leaning his head forward as much as he can, wanting so badly to grab handfuls of your ass while slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moans into your mouth, biting and sucking on your bottom lip.

You begin to rock your hips against his, dragging your core over his crotch, the friction sending pleasurable sensations coursing through you. However, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, leaving you unsure about how to proceed. Despite this uncertainty, you continue the movement, instinctively seeking relief for the ache building in your core.

Logan notices the hesitation in your movements, his perceptive gaze catching the flicker of insecurity in your eyes. He starts to thrust his hips against yours, urging you on. “Good girl, you can do it,” he says in his low, deep voice, the words igniting a whimper from your lips as you pick up the pace, guiding your hips a bit faster in response.

“Need you, kitten. Please, I need to feel you. Take these panties off,” he pleads, his tone dripping with desire. You shake your head, refusing to comply, which only draws a chuckle from him as he watches you squirm on top of him.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’ll choose when I want to take them off,” you retort, feeling a thrill of defiance as his eyes wander from your face to your soaked panties. The big wet spot at the front betrays just how much you want his cock filling you up, pushing deep inside and making a mess.

“Just you wait until I’m out of these,” Logan replies, maintaining that boyish smile that makes your heart race. You hardly care about his playful threat; instead, you steady yourself on his shoulders and keep grinding your clit against his clothed cock. He’s right about the panties, but you’re not about to let him dictate the moment. Reaching down, you push the fabric aside, letting your pussy lips glide against him, the contact sending shivers through your body.

“Oh, kitten,” he moans, captivated by the sight of your arousal dripping down onto his underwear. “Look at you.” His low, sultry voice sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation of his throbbing cock against your wetness nearly overwhelming.

“Feels so fucking good,” you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure wash over you.

As the pressure builds toward your orgasm, you suddenly stand up, discarding the delicate lingerie that clings to you. As you’re undressing yourself in front of him he can’t help but growl. You glance at him cautiously, as he stares at you hungrily. You’re longing for him to taste you but feeling a hint of embarrassment about taking the initiative. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “Go ahead baby girl, let me taste you.” His encouragement sparks a rush of confidence within you, urging you to take control and fully embrace the moment.

His choice of words only heightens your arousal, making it feel as if he’s the one compelling you to act. Logan's cock is oozing with precum, and you can feel the dampness spreading on his underwear as you hook a leg over his shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him.

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit.

A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue finally makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully exploring your puffy lips, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

Logan groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down into his beard.

“That’s it, good girl, use my fuckin’ mouth,” he moans against you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. He alternates between sucking it in and releasing it, the repetitive motion making your head spin. “Taste so good.”

“Fuck, Lo—” you whine as you grind yourself against his lips.

Each flick and tug sends you spiralling, and you begin to whine, yearning for his large fingers to fill your tight little hole. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you slip deeper into that precious sub headspace, becoming acutely aware of his restrained hands. Logan picks up on your shift in mood immediately.

“Please, Lo,” you cry out, desperation lacing your voice. You need him so badly it borders on painful.

“Please, what?” he retorts, then dives his tongue into your clenching hole, making you gasp. He groans, fucking your little pussy with his tongue, his nose brushing tantalizingly over your clit. “This is what you wanted, ain’t that right?”

“F-fuck, ah, I’m gonna c-cum,” you gasp, urgency spilling from your lips instead of a question. The relentless contact of his nose against your sensitive clit pushes you to the edge, and your pussy contracts around his tongue, releasing a wave of pleasure. You scream his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair with a mix of urgency and desperation, your ears ringing as the world around you fades into bliss, unaware of the metal cuffs breaking free.

You can feel his hands on your skin, the heat of your orgasm squirting out of you, painting his mouth beautifully as he continues to feast on your cunt. You breathe heavily as Logan moans loudly at the sweet taste of you, feeling both blissed out and utterly exposed.

You’re still coming down from your high when suddenly, you yelp in surprise as he lifts you with ease, your trembling legs instinctively wrapping around his body. In one fluid motion, Logan throws you onto the bed, and a whine escapes your lips as you feel the familiar neediness surge within you, your pussy so slick and wanting for more.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his erection finally spring free. Logan’s thick and big cock is so hard, dripping with precum and you almost whimper at the sight of it. He then makes his way up to the bed. Situating himself between your legs he smiles deviously.

Oh—

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten. I’ll show you who’s in control.”

Your cheeks flare up furiously at his request, you feel your body trembling with excitement as you flip on your stomach, getting on your hands and knees, your face down on the mattress as you raise your ass in the air for him. Logan groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

You bite your bottom lip and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby. All dripping wet for me,” he whispers to you and you feel his fingers sliding up and down your slit and then opening your folds for him to see.

You wanted to tell him how he’s the only one that can do this to you, how much you love him, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, parting them as he quickly leans down and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise making you almost fall on the bed, your arms almost giving out on you.

You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as he keeps licking up and down and sucking on your clit. When you whine, his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, s-so sensitive. Da-daddy please, oh—”

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whimper desperately at the loss of the feeling of his tongue, only to have him kiss your lower back and up your spine, hands sliding up and down your body.

“Please,” you whine pathetically.

You can't see it, but he's smiling down at you, shaking his head as he revels in his victory over the battle for control. “What happened, baby? Suddenly you need my help?”

You shake your head yes rapidly, not caring how desperate you look. “Please, please, I’ll be good for you, please. I’ll be your good girl.”

“I thought you wanted to be in control,” he pokes fun at you, his hips not touching as he places soft kisses down your back. You wish he was fucking into you already. You start to whine when you feel his thumb press into your clit. He doesn’t move it at all, just applies slight pressure and lets it rest there. “But you need your daddy, don’t you? You need me so badly. Pathetic little kitty.”

“I-I do,” you gasp, frustrated by his unmoving thumb. Your body is trembling in anticipation. “Please daddy.”

A moment later you feel him grind his thick cock against your dripping heat, you’re aching for him to fill you up. A loud moan fills the room along with your whines, with a strong grip on your hips a second later he eases the tip inside, making you gasp as your whole body trembles.

“Please…” You whine desperately as you feel him halt his movements, a small portion of the tip only inside you. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

“Patience baby girl,”

You whimper as he finally slides more and more of his thickness inside of you. You squeeze your eyes tightly as he fills you up. The pressure of his cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Take it, princess. Take daddy’s cock.”

Then his massive cock is completely splitting you open. Logan thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it. Your pussy pulses around him as you struggle to adjust to his size.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the mattress. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him.

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It feels as though your pussy can never fully adjust to his size. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, Logan uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes and starts moving, fucking you at an impossible pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him fills the room along with both of your frantic moans. His heavy balls are hitting against your clit with every thrust. The feeling is heaven on earth.

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Logan, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Logan picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood daddy, p-please more…”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once, making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder with each movement, blending with the slick sounds of your pussy meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with the little noises of pleasure escaping your mouth.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Logan asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes, daddy. Fuck, please… Can I please cum?” you ask this time, completely out of breath.

“No, you little brat,” Logan growls, picking up the pace even more. He grabs you by your hair, jerks your head up and pulls you back towards him. “Patience.”

The delicious thrusts of his cock don’t falter as he presses your back into his chest. He wraps a strong hand around your throat, and the other arm holds you steady by the waist.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper repeatedly, your body trembling with need.

“Oh, I know you can,” he says aggressively. “I know you fuckin’ can. And you will.”

He grinds his hips in circles, and you nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. You desperately try to hold back the orgasm that's building rapidly, clenching your pussy tightly around his thick cock. He lets out deep moans at the feeling of you, fully aware that he’s close to cumming but wanting to savour your pussy for just a little longer. Logan slows his pace slightly, giving both of you a brief moment to catch your breath before he picks up the rhythm again, quick and rough.

“Look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.” Logan cursed when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up, kitten, make it all nice and full,” he promises.

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up daddy!” You’re whimpering with every thrust of his cock.

“Tell me who’s in control and I’ll let you cum,” he says slowly into your ear, grip around your throat tightening a bit and making the feeling that more intense.

“You, Lo,” you manage to get out, “Always you.”

“Cum on my cock then,” Logan gives you permission. Another few thrusts is all it takes to send you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears ring from the pressure. You’re on cloud nine as you let your body relax and feel the brutal pounding of his cock. It drags inside of you so perfectly, hitting every sweet spot you have. Your needy cunt is clenching, throbbing, and milking his cock while you cum all over him. Logan groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. “This pussy was made for me. So fuckin’ tight wrapped around me.”

Your cum drips down both of your legs, coating his cock and balls, quickly forming a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, Logan talks you through it, whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He gasps as you pulse around him, desperate for him to spill his load inside you, needing to witness him fall apart.

“Ah, shit—” he rasps, thrusting deeper, the bulbous head of his cock hitting your cervix with delicious force. “Are you going to take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until you’re a messy little thing, hm?”

You shiver at his words, your mouth dropping open in awe as you close your eyes, completely lost in the sensation, nodding eagerly. “Please, please.”

Moments later, you feel him unravel against you, and soon his cum starts to shoot deep inside you.

“Fuck, just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good baby girl.”

As his thrusts come to a complete stop, he pulls out of you, and you let your body fall limp against the mattress, feeling utterly drained. Soon Logan wraps an arm around you, effortlessly spinning you around to pull you against his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan at the taste of yourself still on his lips. As he pulls away, he gazes down at you with soft eyes and a charming smile, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.

“Sorry for ruining your little plan,” Logan teases gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d give it a try… but I feel like I’m not that great at it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweet girl. That was so fuckin' hot. In fact, I might want you to try it again.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes brightening at his praise.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe next time, I can teach you a thing or two about taking control.”

“Really?” You smile happily, your fingers running through his messy dark hair.

“Mhm,” he hums, his heart swelling at your excitement.

Biting your lip bashfully, you shrug, looking up at him with a shy smile. “I much prefer having you in control, though.”

“That so?” Logan smirks mischievously, his hands beginning to wander all over your body, reigniting the familiar heat between you.

“Yes, you’re so hot when you’re dominant,” you giggle, leaning up to cover Logan’s face with playful kisses.

“Oh, just when I’m dominant?” he teases, smirking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Logan, you know what I mean!” you pout, continuing to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re always hot!”

Logan chuckles, his deep voice vibrating through you as he gently cups your cheeks with both hands, trying to capture your lips. Once he does, he presses a series of quick, light pecks against your mouth, grinning widely. You giggle against him, the sound filling the space between you both as he keeps chasing your lips, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

“I love you so much, baby. You mean everything to me,” Logan murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer as his warmth surrounds you.

With a gentle roll, Logan shifts your bodies, laying you down so your back sinks into the softness of the blankets and pillows. His lips never leave yours as you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, his hands still cradling your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across the skin under your eyes.

“You’re everything to me too, Lo,” you whisper, your voice soft and full of affection, a smile tugging at your lips. “I love you.”

You’re both basking in each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy between you settling into something warm and peaceful. The earlier rush of passion has given way to a serene calmness, where even the soft rhythm of your breaths seems to sync together. Logan’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, and you feel completely at ease, wrapped in his embrace.

Then, just as you’re lulled into this tranquil moment, you notice a familiar gleam of mischief in Logan’s eyes. His hands slowly slide down to your hips, fingers pressing lightly against your skin in a way that sends a subtle thrill through you. He caresses you slowly, and the soft strokes make your body stir.

With a playful grin, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Another round?” His voice is teasing but full of intent, a promise of what’s to come. You feel the shift in his energy, playful yet laced with the kind of desire that tells you he’s far from finished with you tonight.

“Logan!” you giggle, giving him a playful push, but he only grins wider. In a swift motion, he pulls you close again, silencing your laughter with a deep, passionate kiss. Your playful giggles soon turn into soft, breathy moans as his hands roam your body, and yours do the same, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles.

The night unfolds in a tangle of kisses and wandering hands, the air between you charged with love and desire. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of the bond you share, and the passion between you feels endless. The world fades away, and all that remains is Logan. His touch, his gaze, and the warmth of his presence pull you in, leaving you completely lost in him.

thank you for reading <3 mwah

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valkyriexo · 3 months ago

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Work of Art | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Best Friend Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst (ish?), Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI, Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering, edging, Semi-public sex, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @skzdreamer13 (sorry it took so long ! ) Also... this is a bit longer then i intended it to be i got... carried away hehehe

The art studio smells like paint, the familiar scent swirling in the air as you dip your brush into a swirl of color. The canvas in front of you is slowly taking shape, the blend of pastel blues and soft pinks beginning to resemble the hazy skyline of a dreamscape you’ve been envisioning for weeks. You’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve spent on it, layering colors, fine-tuning the details, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve always loved getting lost in your work.

Across the room, Hyunjin sits at his usual spot by the window, sketchbook propped on his knee as he sketches something you can’t quite see from where you stand. It’s comfortable, familiar, the two of you working in companionable silence. Every now and then, you glance up to find him already looking at you, eyes soft and focused, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of the moment.

You’ve been friends for what feels like forever, bonded over late nights in this very studio, sharing music while you worked side by side.

It’s...... easy with him, always has been.

Hyunjin is the kind of person who understands you without you needing to say anything. He knows your moods, can read the subtlest change in your expression, and you’ve always been able to share everything with him — your art, your frustrations, your dreams. This studio was your place. You’d both stay long after everyone else left, the hum of creativity and quiet conversation filling the space between you.

“What do you think?” you ask, turning your canvas toward him. His opinion has always mattered to you. Hyunjin’s eye for detail is sharp, but more than that, you trust him to be honest.

He looks up, his gaze landing on the canvas. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his eyes softening as he takes it in. “It’s beautiful,” he says, voice low, almost reverent. “There’s something... ethereal about it. It feels like a memory.”

Your heart flutters at his words, the compliment striking deeper than it should. “That’s what I was going for,” you say, stepping back to look at your painting again.

Hyunjin nods, his gaze flickering back to the painting. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just studies it with that intense focus he always has when he’s taking something in. Then, quietly, he says, “You always manage to put so much feeling into your work. It’s one of the things I... admire about you.”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes your heart skip, something unspoken in the way he says those last words. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, his eyes still fixed on the canvas, but there’s an underlying tenderness that you can’t quite ignore.

You open your mouth to respond, to say something — anything — but the air feels thick with something you can’t name, and before you can find the right words, the door to the studio swings open.

Han walks into the studio, a burst of energy and excitement trailing in his wake. He’s carrying a bag of takeout, the aroma of food filling the air as he enters. His face is lit up with a wide, enthusiastic grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement.

“Hey, everyone!” Han’s cheerful voice fills the studio as he strides in with takeout. “Thought you might be hungry.”

You turn to greet him, your mood lifting at the sight of his familiar, easygoing smile. Han sets the bags of food on the table with a casual grace. “I brought some takeout. Figured you two could use a break.”

“Thanks, Han,” you say, trying to keep the atmosphere light. You catch Hyunjin’s reaction from the corner of your eye. His smile tightens just a fraction, and he shifts his gaze back to his sketchbook, an unreadable expression settling on his face.

“Perfect timing,” Hyunjin says, his voice polite but lacking its usual warmth. “We could use a break.”

Han begins unpacking the food, his eyes bright as he glances at your painting. “Wow, Y/N, that’s incredible,” he says with genuine admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

You smile at the praise, feeling a warm flutter at Han’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Han. I’ve been working on it for a while.”

As Han continues to unpack the food, you notice Hyunjin’s shoulders are tense, his focus remaining on his sketchbook. There’s a subtle shift in the air, a change you can’t quite place but that feels almost tangible.

“Mind if I join in?” Han asks, setting up a plate of food for you and Hyunjin. His casual tone and easy smile make it clear he’s just as comfortable here as he is anywhere else.

“Of course,” you reply, “It’s good to have you here.”

Hyunjin finally looks up, his gaze fleetingly meeting yours before he returns to his sketchbook. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a break,” he says, his tone once again polite but detached.

As you all sit down to eat, you find yourself drawn into Han’s stories and jokes, your laughter mingling with his. It’s clear that you’re enjoying his company, and you can’t help but notice how his presence brings a different kind of energy to the studio.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, remains subdued. He joins in the conversation, but his responses are brief, and his attention seems.....

....divided.

The studio hums with the soft sounds of conversation and the clinking of utensils as Han continues to engage with you and Hyunjin over lunch. His attention is focused on you, and you can’t miss the playful glint in his eyes.

Lately, Han has been visiting the studio more frequently. At first, it was just a casual drop-in here and there, but recently, he’s been making it a regular thing. The three of you have been spending a lot of time together, discussing art, sharing ideas, and even grabbing lunch like today. His presence has added a new dynamic to your studio time, and you can’t deny that it’s been refreshing.

When Han started coming around more, it felt like a natural extension of your routine. He’d drop by with coffee or lunch, sometimes bringing along his own sketches to work on. You found some joy in his company , and it was easy to get lost in conversation with him. His enthusiasm for art matched yours, and his friendly, easygoing nature made him a great addition to your creative space.

The more Han visited, the more you two grew close. You started to look forward to his presence, finding comfort and inspiration in his company. You’d often stay late into the evening, chatting about everything from art to life.

But with Han’s increased presence, something shifted. You noticed how your interactions with Hyunjin became less frequent. Where you used to work side by side, sharing thoughts and critiques, you now found yourself pulled into conversations with Han.

“So, Y/N,” Han starts, leaning slightly closer with a teasing smile. “How do you manage to make everything look so effortless? I’ve seen your work, and I know it’s anything but.”

You laugh, a bit flustered by his directness. “It’s a lot of practice and maybe a bit of luck,” you reply, trying to keep things light.

Han grins, his gaze lingering on you. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’d say it’s definitely more than luck. I’ve seen your paintings turn into something incredible. Maybe you’ve got a secret.”

You feel your cheeks warm at his touch and compliment. “Maybe I do,” you say, matching his playful tone. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to share it just yet.”

Han chuckles softly and reaches over to hand you a paintbrush, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Well, if you ever decide to let me in on that secret, I’d be more than happy to help you with it.” He gets a little closer, his arm grazing yours as he leans in. “You know,” he says, leaning in a little closer, “I was thinking... maybe we should test that theory. How about we paint something together one day? I’ve got some ideas and I think it could be a lot of fun.”

“That sounds interesting. What kind of ideas do you have in mind?” you reply.

Just as he starts to respond, Hyunjin, who has been quietly watching, stands up abruptly. His voice, though calm, carries an unmistakable edge. “It’s getting late,” he says, his gaze flickering between you and Han. “I think it’s time to wrap things up for today. Y/N, you should probably head home too.”

Han’s expression shifts from playful to slightly confused. “Already? I was just about to ask Y/N to—”

Hyunjin cuts him off with a firm yet polite tone. “I’m sorry, Han, but we’ve all had a long day. We can catch up on the details another time. Y/N, let’s get going.”

You glance at Han, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and surprise, before turning to Hyunjin. “Yeah, I guess it is getting late,” you agree, though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you stand up.

Han’s disappointment is evident as he offers you a small, wistful smile. “Alright, Y/N. We’ll talk about it soon. Have a good night.” His words are warm, but there’s a hint of frustration in his eyes as he gathers his things.

As Han exits the studio, you turn to find Hyunjin already heading towards the door, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. He’s usually so composed, but there’s something in his demeanor tonight that feels sharp and unsettled.

“Hyunjin, wait up,” you call, catching up to him as he moves toward the entrance. The studio is now quiet, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation replaced by an uneasy silence.

Hyunjin stops and turns to face you, his gaze intense. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to rush you, but..." He pauses, his voice faltering slightly as he searches for the right words.

“Actually, never mind,” he says abruptly, his tone shifting to a forced calm. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to walk toward the door, but you reach out, your voice trembling slightly. “But, Hyunjin? What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin stops, his back to you, and for a moment, you can see the conflict warring within him. He turns his head slightly, but the emotion in his eyes is hard to decipher.

"You've...you’ve been spending a lot of time with Han lately.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been coming by the studio more often. We’ve just been working on some ideas together.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “I’ve noticed. It’s just—” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. “Never mind. It’s none of my business who you spend your time with.”

Hyunjin’s frustration is palpable as he crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the floor. The usually calm and collected friend is now visibly shaken, and the intensity in his voice is unmistakable.

“Hyunjin, what's wrong?” you ask, concern evident in your voice.

Hyunjin looks up, his expression hardening. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, his voice clipped. “I’ll stop interrupting your time with Han.”

Before you can react, he turns away from you, heading towards the door. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes your heart ache, and you can’t just let him leave like this.

“No, wait!” you call out, rushing to catch up with him. “Hyunjin, please, don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

Hyunjin pauses but doesn’t turn around. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he replies, his tone flat. “I just... need some time alone. It’s better this way.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Hyunjin, don’t shut me out. We’ve always been able to talk through things. I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.”

Hyunjin stiffens under your touch and then turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you hadn’t expected. The usually composed and easygoing Hyunjin is now a whirlwind of frustration and jealousy, his features tense and his jaw set tight. The raw intensity in his gaze is something you’ve never seen before — a mix of hurt and anger that makes your heart ache.

You’re taken aback by his intensity. “Han’s just been trying to be friendly and lighten the mood. I didn’t think it was anything more than him wanting to hang out and have a good time.”

“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he snaps, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. “I’ve been sitting here, watching him flirt with you, and all you seem to notice is how charming he is.”

Hyunjin’s voice trembles with frustration. “It’s not just about him being friendly! It’s about watching you with someone else, someone who’s clearly interested in you. And while he’s making moves, I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend it doesn’t bother me?”

You feel a pang of guilt, your own emotions a whirlwind of confusion and concern. “Hyunjin, I—”

“Do you really not get it?” he interrupts, his tone harsh and edged. “I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been hiding it for so long, thinking maybe it would go away or that it didn’t matter because we’re friends. But seeing you with Han, seeing how easily he gets to be close to you, it’s like... it’s tearing me apart.”

He stands there, struggling to keep his composure, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

“I... I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Hyunjin, I never imagined you could feel this way. I thought... I always thought you’d see me as just a friend, nothing more. Why would you ever think that—”

Hyunjin interrupts, his voice strained. “Because you are special to me. I’ve been falling for you for so long, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish, but it’s killing me to see you with him when all I want is to be close to you.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself. “But I’ll give you space since it’s clear the feelings aren’t the same. I’m sorry for bringing this on you.” His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with regret and resignation.

Before you can find the right words to respond, before you can process the whirlwind of emotions, Hyunjin turns abruptly and walks toward the door. His steps are heavy, each one echoing the weight of his confession.

“Hyunjin, wait!” you call out, but he doesn’t turn back. The door closes softly behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet studio, your heart pounding.

You stand there, stunned and at a loss, the room feeling colder and emptier than before. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered. Your vision blurs with tears, and you try to hold them back, but they come uncontrollably. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that escape.

You’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but you never dared to hope he could feel the same way.Standing there, tears streaming down your face, you clutch the edges of the doorframe, trying to ground yourself.

You take a shaky breath, desperately trying to compose yourself. With trembling hands, you wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, attempting to pull yourself together.

Summoning all the strength you have left, you push open the door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. The cool air hits your tear-streaked face, but it does little to soothe the turmoil you.

As you open the door, you come face-to-face with Hyunjin, who is standing right outside, as if he was about to come back in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you crying, and his expression shifts from pained resignation to a mix of shock and vulnerability.

You both stand there for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Hyunjin's eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks as though he's been caught in a moment of hesitation, his own tears glistening in his eyes.

Hyunjin’s gaze drops, and he looks away, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I was just—” he starts, but his voice falters, and he wipes at his eyes quickly, as if trying to regain his composure.

As you both stand there, Hyunjin's gaze slowly meets yours. There’s a mix of desperation and hope in his eyes, as if he’s grappling with the urge to fix what’s been broken.

His expression softens, and with a trembling breath, he takes a step closer to you. The space between you seems to shrink as he closes the distance, his movements slow and deliberate.

Without a word, Hyunjin gently places his hands on your cheeks, his touch tender and warm. His eyes search yours for a moment longer, as if asking for permission. Then, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and filled with emotion.

The kiss is hesitant at first, but it deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours with a sense of longing and desperation. You can feel the trembling in his hands

As Hyunjin’s kiss deepens, it feels as though time stands still, the world outside the studio fading away. The intensity of the moment pushes you both backward, and with each tender touch of his lips, you find yourselves moving slowly but inevitably back into the studio, the door closing shut behind him.

The kiss continues, now more urgent and passionate, as if he’s trying to pour all the words he can’t express into this one moment.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there, breathless and slightly disheveled, still close together. Hyunjin’s gaze is tender, and he looks at you with a mixture of relief and hope.

"Why me? I don’t get it” you say.

Hyunjin’s smile widens, and he gently wipes away a tear from your cheek. “Why you? Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted—kind, talented, and absolutely incredible.Because you’re like your art—full of beauty and emotion. Every piece you create reveals a part of you, and I’ve been captivated by that. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to show you just how much you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time more desparetly, as if he needs to breathe and your his oxygen.

You can feel his hand slide down your body and he takes your hand in his. You feel your own heart skip a beat, and you can't help but smile as you continue to kiss, as he pushes you back allowing you to sit up on one of the tables in the studio. He takes the opportunity to put his body between your legs.

His tongue explores your mouth, and you can’t help but respond, your own tongue dueling with his.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body. Your hands reach up to touch his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your fingertips, and Hyunjin lets out a low groan, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Fuck, I want you,” he growls, his hand gripping your hip tightly.

You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly, your own desire building up inside of you.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. Hyunjin’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. You arch your back, moaning as his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt.

“Hyunjin, please,” you beg, your hands tugging at his shirt.He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You can’t help but stare at his muscular chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs.

He smiles, looking at you, as if asking for permission with his eyes. You nod and his hands reach towards you to unbutton your shirt. You undo your bra on your own, and together both items fall to the ground. You blush as he stares at you.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing gently.

You moan, your nipples hardening under his touch. You can feel your wetness soaking through your panties, and you grind your hips against Hyunjin’s. He groans, both hands now gripping your hips tighter.

Hyunjin leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. You try to stifle your moan, your hands gripping his hair as he switches to the other nipple, biting down gently. His lips trail back up to your neck as his hands begin to slide down the sides of your body.

His fingers find their way to your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his fingers tracing the lines of your panties.

You moan, your hips bucking as his fingers slip under your panties and into your wetness. He strokes your clit, and you cry out, your orgasm building up inside of you. Hyunjin continues to stroke you, his fingers moving faster and faster. His fingers are long and slender, and you can feel them stroking you from the inside.

"Oh g-god, Hyunjin" you say, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Yeah? Does that feel good baby?" Hearing him call you "baby" sends a flutter through your chest, a warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach. It’s not just the word — it’s the way he says it, soft and full of affection, like it belongs only to you. You’ve heard the word before, but from his lips, it feels different — intimate, tender, and so undeniably right.

Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm builds. Hyunjin kisses you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers continue to move inside you.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. "d-don't stop" you whine. Hyunjin continues to kiss you, swallowing your cries as his pace speeds up. You grab onto Hyunjin's shoulders as you begin to ride his fingers, your body trembling with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, as your orgasm approaches.

"Not yet," he whispers and you feel as he pulls his fingers out of you. "I want your cum on my cock."

You blush, as his hands reach down to unbutton his pants. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. His erection springs free, and you can’t help but stare at it.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it slowly.

You nod, your hand reaching out to touch him. Hyunjin groans, his hips thrusting forward as your hand wraps around his cock. You stroke him slowly, matching his rhythm. You pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip, and you could hear him whine.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he says as he slowly spread open your legs. He pushes you back a little to line his tip up to your entrance.

"You ready for me?" he asks, teasingly.

"Please," you reply, desperately.

He pushes in, his cock stretching you open as he enters you. You moan, your hands gripping his arms as he begins to move, thrusting slowly at first.

"Please, Hyunjin, please." You begged, as your eyes closed from the pleasure.

"God, you're so tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, back out, and back in again.

and he feels SO good.

And then he stops..... while still inside you.

Confused, you open your eyes to see a frozen Hyunjin. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I-I...." he stutters. Hyunjin’s face pales as his eyes dart nervously to the canvas behind you. "I spilled paint,” he says, gesturing to the canvas behind you. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, visibly distressed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know you worked so hard on it, and I just... ruined it.” His voice breaks slightly, and he looks away, unable to meet your gaze.

You look at the canvas, your heart sinking a little. The once vibrant colors you’d carefully layered over days of meticulous work are now smeared and distorted by splashes of dark paint. What was supposed to be a serene landscape, full of soft pastels and warm hues, is now marred by streaks of harsh, misplaced colors running down the surface.

"It was perfect, and I ruined it," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I know how much this meant to you."

Hyunjin’s hand is covered in streaks of dark paint from knocking over the paint, and you can see how the paint has seeped into the creases of his hands, clinging to him like guilt.

He stares at his hand, then back at the ruined painting, shaking his head. "I should’ve been more careful," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this... I can't believe I did this to your work."

He looks up, shocked. "Y/N..."

"Hyunjin," you say. "It's okay. It's just paint."

"But..." he starts.

You cut him off with a kiss. "I'd rather have you than the painting," you whisper. "Besides I think your art is prettier than mine."

"You...you do?"

"Mmhm," You say nodding your head."Besides....I always said I wanted you to paint me one day..."

" You want me to paint you?"

You answer his question by moving his paint coated hands together and placing them both on your chest, leaving his paint handprints right on you.

You've never done anything like this before, but the idea of being so intimate with Hyunjin is incredibly arousing.

You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with desire. Hyunjin's touch is electric, and you can't help but moan as he continues to explore your body with his fingers. He moves one of his hands and traces a finger over your collarbone, leaving a trail of paint in its wake.

You feel as he begins to thrust into you again.

Your eyes close from the pleasure, and you moan as his cock fills you completely.

"Oh fuck," you say, your voice cracking. You feel Hyunjin's pace quicken as his cock continues to pound into you. His hands roam, allowing more paint to make its way onto your body. You place your hands into an open yellow and purple paint nearby and place your hands on his chest, covering him with paint as well.

"Oh fuck," Hyunjin growls, his voice hoarse with lust. He grabs you by the hips, and lifts you off the table.

"Wrap your legs around me," he says.

You do as he asks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. His cock is still buried deep inside you, and the new angle sends shivers of pleasure through your body.

"That's it," he says, his voice husky. "Hold on tight."

He begins to move again, his pace quickening as he pounds into you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you.

You cling to him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried in his shoulder. You can't help but cry out as your orgasm approaches.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, your body trembling. "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?" he says. "Me too."

His thrusts become faster, harder, as he pounds into you. Your cries echo in the room, and you feel him throb inside you.

"Come for me, Y/N," he growls.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, as your orgasm hits, your nails digging into his shoulders. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your pleasure. You cling to him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin groans, as he comes, his cock pulsing inside you, completing the masterpiece by painting your walls.

When you finally come down from your orgasm, you look down at Hyunjin and see that he's covered in paint. His face, his hair, and even his clothes are covered in a rainbow of colors.

You can't help but laugh at the sight, and Hyunjin joins in your laughter.

"You look beautiful," he says with a soft smile, his eyes tracing your features. "Like a work of art. Something I'd spend hours admiring, and still, it wouldn't be enough." He places you back down on the table and pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.

The two of you stay there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, before you finally break away.

"We should.... clean up," you say, gesturing to the paint that's covering both of your bodies.

Hyunjin nods in agreement, but neither of you move.

Instead, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We'll get cleaned up soon," he says, his voice soft and tender.

"Right now, I just want to hold you."

You smile, a wave of happiness washing over you. "I'd like that," you say, nuzzling against his chest.

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#k-labels #hyunjin #skz #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut #straykids #k labels #skzstarnet #supernovanetwork #smut #hyunjin stray kids #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader

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frenchkisstheabyss · 3 months ago

Text

♡ Softer, Softest ♡

♡ Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff

♡ Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things he’s more than willing to give.

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, san’s obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).

♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your body’s amazing. Never forget that ❤️

Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. It’s a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt.

The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he can’t speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressure’s applied. Now this man? He’s remarkable. He’s muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. There’s no in between. He’s a handsome devil but a devil all the same.

“You look like shit” San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse.

The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. “Mmm s-s-sorry” he croaks, “I didn’t know she was anyone fucking special.”

San grips the man’s face, grinning in a way that isn’t the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the man’s cheeks. “Well now you do.”

This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but they’re there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one San’s been your protector, your admirer. You’ve denied it a million times, convincing yourself you’re simply making more of things than what’s there. Still, after everything happened you couldn’t fathom running into the arms of anyone else.

You were dancing like any other night—working your section and getting your tips—when some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesn’t mean you’re some thing that men can treat however they wish. It’s a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things you’ve ever heard about yourself—about your body.

It isn’t news to you that you’re one of the bigger girls here. San says that’s what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. He’s right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes.

At least that’s where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where San’s office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadn’t considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didn’t care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it.

This place you work at. There’s more to it than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, that’s the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You aren’t oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe that’s exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.

San’s heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, “Who did it?”

You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and San’s anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. “Tell me when you see him, okay, baby?” he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.

You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you “baby”. San touching you wasn’t a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposeful—this intimate. You couldn’t help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.

“That’s him” you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. “I’ll take care of it” he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. “And no more crying, baby. You’re too pretty to cry.” Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time.

San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundings—the impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the walls—but nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable you’d become in your own skin. It didn’t help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.

At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting San’s jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but they’re there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourself…

“I left him out back. Clean him up before someone sees” San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear.

You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place for you to be.

“So, what was that?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is.

“How’d everything go?” you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage.

San shrugs it off like it’s nothing. It still stings but it’s far from the worst pain he’s ever felt. “I said I’d take care of it. It’s been taken care of.”

You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. “San, you make it sound like you killed him.”

He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass.

“Killed him? Almost” he whispers, “I answered your question so it’s only fair you answer mine, isn’t it? What were you doing? I came in and you were…” San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt.

“I…uh…I was…” you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you can’t find a single one.“There’s this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I don’t know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and anyway, it’s silly.”

“It is silly” he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, “But you’re wrong to say that I don’t care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.”

“I mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girls” you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular.

San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. “I don’t care for any other woman the way I do you.”

There it is, a profession of something very particular. He’d hoped that you’d seen it by now. He wonders if he didn’t do a good enough job of showing you. It’s been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesn’t allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you can’t afford to make them but he couldn’t help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and you’re all he’s been able to see since. You’re so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. It’s why he protects you—why he always will.

“Your body…” he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, “It’s perfect. There’s nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you I’ll break both of his hands.” San’s gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Is that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?” you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.

“Sometimes but usually it’s like this” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow.

San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. “You’re so fucking cute” he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them.

“You think so?” you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more.

Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, “Don’t you?”

An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. It’s the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear.

”I watch you sometimes when you’re dancing” he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, “I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself when you look the way you do. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me. My little witch.”

San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“But I don’t have any magic” you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation.

San’s free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. “You do have magic, baby” he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, “It’s right here.”

“Aah, Sannie” you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open.

Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now it’s for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how he’s always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone.

Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. “How can a girl be this perfect?” he says, nearly salivating, “Even your pussy’s gorgeous.” There’s an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.

“San, wait…” you beg, grabbing at his hair, but you’re too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongue’s already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you.

San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. He’s drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does.

Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his.

“You want it, baby?” San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. They’re so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussy’s like splashing in a lake. You’re wet enough to drown in.

“I want it, Sannie, aah, fuck…” you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tip’s pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit.

“Then tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.” He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived.

The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. “My body’s, mmph, beautiful” you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, “I love it.”

“Don’t stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe you” San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out.

You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, “I love, aah, my body. I love my body. It’s beautiful. It’s…it’s…”

Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and he’s hardly able to keep still himself. You’re so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. They’re glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back.

Through heavy lids you watch the man you’ve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. San’s muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but it’s impossible when you’re making him feel like his entire soul’s being snatched from his body.

“You feel so fucking good” he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, “Come here.”

San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that you’re close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. There’s no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it.

“S-San…” you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.

Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long he’s had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you, but now you’re all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like it’s the only word you know. He’s so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise.

Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. “Fill me up, Sannie” you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.

San’s body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. “Fuck, baby” he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each other’s eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one another’s gaze.

San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. “Tell me, baby, how do you feel now?”

You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. It’s all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, “Beautiful.”

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez x female reader #choi san x you #choi san smut #choi san angst #choi san x reader #choi san fluff #chubby reader #plus size reader #ateez x chubby reader

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morganaawriterr · 4 days ago

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Showering with Sunghoon;

Pairing; fem!reader and boyfriend!Park Sunghoon Synopsis; You love showering with Sunghoon. He is the best boyfriend, takes care of you even in the shower, not letting you lift a finger. Not even to wash yourself ;) Genre; Fluff (a bit suggestive) Warning; None (?) Sunghoon is a true GENTLEMAN!! Kinda horny!Sunghoon because you are just too hot (?)

A/N: This is the Sunghoon version of the, 'Bathing with Ni-ki' scenario. When i was writing the Ni-ki one, i already had the idea for this one heheheheh. I can't tell each one of them is my favourite, but... a man like Sunghoon (at least the one in this story) is my dream!!! I hope you guys enjoy it, likes and reblogs are always welcome, thank you so much <3

Also, happy Christmas eve, my loves ♡♡

If there was one thing you loved doing with Sunghoon, it was showering together. Everyone knew he was a gentleman—always opening doors for you, making sure you weren’t cold when you went out, and keeping his eyes on you to ensure you were safe and comfortable. And when you shower together, nothing changes.

Sunghoon knew you better than anyone else. He understood how you always put others before yourself (blame it on being the older sister). So, whenever he could, he took it upon himself to care for you. When you showered together, he refused to let you lift a finger—washing your hair, using all your scalp products, and gently cleaning your skin for you.

So, when he got a text from you saying you’d be taking a quick shower, he rushed home. Stepping into the foggy bathroom, he heard soft music playing—Cigarettes After Sex, as usual. Sunghoon quickly discarded his clothes and approached the shower. Before stepping inside, he paused to admire you.

Your sweet voice carried softly with the music, your head tilted back under the hot water, the droplets cascading down your body like a sculpture brought to life. To him, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and he couldn’t be more grateful to have you.

When your back was turned to the door, he finally stepped in. His tall frame came up behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. You jumped slightly in surprise but quickly giggled. You loved it when Sunghoon was clingy.

“You should’ve waited for me…” he murmured into your ear, resting his face on your shoulder as the hot water poured over both of you.

Turning your head slightly, you pecked his cheek. “We have to be quick, baby. I promised your mom I’d meet her at the mall by 3 p.m. We’re picking out new things for her kitchen,” you explained to your handsome boyfriend. Then, you turned around fully to face him.

The water had completely soaked his hair, and he ran a hand through it, pushing it back. You gazed into his eyes, captivated by the view in front of you. His pale skin was drenched and shining before your curious eyes.

“Why didn’t she call me?” he whined, wrapping his arms around you again, as though he wished he could be under your skin, just to be closer to you.

“I’m the one with the interior design degree…” you joke, resting your head against his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin against yours and the hot water cascading over both of you.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond; he simply kisses your hair and holds you close for a few minutes. The bathroom grows even steamier, the air heavy with humidity. You look up at him, captivated by his handsome features— his big nose, juicy red lips, adorable moles, and the depth of his brown eyes, completely drunk on love.

He gazes back at you with equal intensity, his mischievous fingers trailing along your side, sending goosebumps across your skin. The way you look at him—those beautiful, pleading puppy eyes—are enough to drive him crazy. Slowly, Sunghoon leans in and captures your lips in a slow, loving kiss, his soft lips molding perfectly with yours.

Your arms wrap around his neck as your fingers weave through his black hair, gently pulling. His tongue teases its way into your mouth, and the kiss quickly deepens, turning hungry. The sensation of your wet, nude body pressing against his is intoxicating. You finally pull away for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you both catch your breath.

“Turn around so I can wash your hair,” Sunghoon says in a breathy voice, regaining his composure and focusing on taking care of you. His hands remain firmly on your hips as you turn, your back facing him—a sight that makes him momentarily wish his mom would forget about your plans so he could have more time with you.

Noticing he hasn’t moved, you glance back over your shoulder, only to catch him staring at your body with a sly grin, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter making your skin turn white.

“Hoonie…” you call, snapping him out of his trance. A soft blush spreads across his face as he realizes he’s been caught.

“Sorry, princess, I got distracted,” he mutters in a low voice, quickly reaching for your favorite shampoo to get started.

You turn your head forward, giving him better access to your scalp. When his skilled fingers begin massaging your hair, it feels heavenly. He always has a way of being so gentle yet confident, and it makes your knees weak every time.

Sunghoon has a habit of massaging your neck while washing your hair—one hand steadying your head while the other works on your tired neck muscles. You gulp and bite your bottom lip. Today, for some reason, his touch feels even better than usual, making you momentarily regret agreeing to plans with his mom.

“All done. Let’s rinse you off,” Sunghoon says softly, holding your hand as you turn to let the water rinse your hair. As the warm stream flows over you, Sunghoon notices your quickened breaths.

“You okay there, princess?” he asks with a knowing smirk, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

You don’t answer, just nod, your eyes still closed. After rinsing your hair, he applies a bit of conditioner to your ends, gently scrunching them to enhance your waves. While the conditioner sets, he grabs your loofah, squeezing out some of your body wash before carefully lathering it.

You let him take over completely, utterly under his spell. His hands move with precision and tenderness, washing every inch of you—from your neck and arms to your chest and belly. He even kneels to wash your legs and feet with the same care. You watch him with hearts in your eyes, completely smitten by his loving attention.

When he stands again, you turn around, brushing your hair to one side to expose your back. He resumes his task, one hand holding your waist affectionately while the other traces gentle circles over your skin as he cleans you.

Sunghoon smiles when he’s finished, admiring the way your skin glistens, still covered in bubbles. He leans in to press a quick peck on your lips before turning the water back on to rinse you off. Stepping back, he leans against the cold tiled shower wall, his mischievous eyes tracing the path of the drops as they slide down your body.

Noticing his gaze, you smile and gently take his hand, pulling him under the warm stream. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you rest your head against his chest, craving the comforting sensation of his skin against yours. The two of you stay like this for a while, soaking in the moment, until your hair and body are completely rinsed clean.

“Do you want me to wash your hair too?” you ask, looking up at your handsome boyfriend. He returns your gaze with a soft smile.

“No, princess. You can go see my mom. I’ll finish faster if I do it myself,” he says, his thumb caressing your cheek affectionately. You laugh, knowing he’s right. If you stayed, things would likely go far beyond just washing his hair.

“I love you,” you confess shyly, placing a lingering kiss on his perfect lips before stepping out of the shower.

“I love you more,” Sunghoon replies sweetly, his heart swelling at the sight of your radiant smile. “I’ll be waiting for you…” he adds with a playful wink as you close the door, your laugh echoing softly in the steamy bathroom.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetiedarling @mintchocos-things @reikaxslvr If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

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ryiju-muunie · 4 months ago

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reader works at a strip club and choso falls in love with her? hes a reguilar and she always igves him private dances? she gets excited to see him? what if another customer tries to get too handsy and choso kicks their ass then takes her into his car and they get freakkyyyyyyyyy??

Let me ride UR Disco Stick!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!stripper!reader/regular!Choso Kamo Warnings: attempted SA [nothing graphic], semi-violent, strip club AU, love at first sight, Choso is crazy down bad, semi-public masturbation, cumshot, car sex, somewhat exhibitionist, semi-public sex, breeding kink, lap dance, fluff, fondling, sitting cowgirl position, sexual tension, creampie, hands-free ejaculation/orgasm, Word count: 5223 DESC: Ever since Choso stepped into Cherry Girls, he was captivated by you.

REQUESTS are OPEN!

ASHRAF ALANQAR'S GOFUNDME. IF YOU HAVE OVER 1000 IN YOUR BANK ACCOUNT DONATE 1-5 DOLLARS.

NOTES: My friend is helping me with ideas so if this gets crazy blame her tbh. And ALL I've been listening to is City Pop, so take that in mind when reading

Choso wasn’t the type to step foot in strip clubs. He wasn’t even a very sexual guy, never one to masturbate unprompted or take time out of his day to watch porn. So he had no clue what made him pull over that Saturday night as he drove into the city, windows done and light music wafting into his ears. He wasn’t sure why Cherry Girls, of all places, caught his eye. The bright pink LED lights flashed in his peripherals, making his head turn just a bit. The sign was in the shape of a cherry, illuminating the city life. It was nice, in between a few dull buildings. It lit up the night and made him smile as he drove past. It was about 10 PM when he walked up, one hand in his black skinny jeans pocket and the other on his ID. He had seen a few movies to know how it would go.

He had just left a gathering with friends from college, nothing unusual. So the man's outfit was more casual than he’d typically dress. Black pants and a tighter black top, without any sleeves. It had some logo on it that he was unfamiliar with, but he wasn’t disappointed in how it framed his chest. To say he was scrawny would be a disservice to his body, molded perfectly to accentuate his muscles. He was built, but not intensely so.

Kamo’s hair was also different that night, instead of up in his usual style he had opted to wear it down around his face. Usually, it would be up in smaller puffs. Something cute that set his look apart from the rest of his peers. Approachable even. Without that, or even a touch of purple eyeshadow, he looked like a douchebag. Maybe it was the resting bitch face or that constant awkward smile that made him look unapproachable. But with the makeup and hair? More of a cutie-patootie!

After the man was let in, he was bombarded with pink lights and waves of perfume. It was an elixir, how it drew him in. LED lights shined on a stage in the center of the building, that’s what his eyes focused on. Anyone else would take a moment to scan their surroundings to take it all in, but he was stuck. He couldn’t stop staring at that stage and the perfectly thick legs that graced it. It was you. Your body was barely contained in thin straps and buckles. Curves spilled over each piece of fabric in an addictingly attractive way. You were addicting. His eyes trailed to your face as his body moved him to sit at the first seat available, drinking you in. You had a round face, completed with perfect features. They fit you in ways he didn’t know were possible. Facial harmony? Whatever it was, you had it. Your hair framed your face in a style he wasn’t sure the name of, with a few bows to make it come together. Gorgeous. You were utterly gorgeous.

How was it that an angel was walking among humans and he was just informed? And it was strange, from the first time he had seen you, he felt a rush of arousal. No woman had made him aroused by their face or their movements. As you glided up the pole, he was throbbing. Your head leaned back as your face did all the talking, your lips painted in red. They fit your face and contorted in a way that made you appear to have said something, without anything being uttered from your mouth.

Choso wasn’t the type to set foot in strip clubs, and he wasn’t the type to masturbate in public. But he was seriously considering it at that moment. His erection poked through his jeans and strained the cloth. He exhaled a shaky breath and pressed his palm into the center, trying to wain it in some way. Yet, that was a mistake. It was sensitive and god that touch felt good. What would your touch feel like? What would your dainty hands do if they got the chance to touch his erection? How would they wrap around his cock and how would they satisfy him? And your mouth; How would your lips suck his tip and how would your tongue lick his slit? Just these thoughts alone were sending pleasurable shivers up his length.

Bouts of pre-cum were staining his boxers and god he was so close he could feel it. If you could just touch him; If you could just breathe into his ear. Something, just anything from you would be enough. His breath hitched and his eyes closed, head leaning back into his seat. Kamo was inching toward a climax he wasn’t even sure would be possible just imagining you. How would your pussy feel between his fingers, wet and sloppy on his dick? How tight would you be and how bad would he have to stretch you out before he could take all his length? Your hips would be perfect anchors for his hands as he would plow up into you, from behind, or even from on top. Love handles would be good too, he’d take anything. Just to graze your ass with his boner and grind until he found relief.

And then it was too much, Choso felt himself spill over the edge in a hot burst of emotion. He gasped and opened his eyes to see your face grinning at the audience as you turned. Cum poured in spurts from his tip, warm and sticky into his underwear and coating himself in white. It was so hot, he gripped the seat beneath him and tried to hide his noises. But it was so hard to even sit still. A low growl, almost a whine, escaped his lips as he bit down, grinding his teeth. With his back arched, the male began to pant and pray no one had heard him.

As he came down from his high, he had to come to terms with exactly what happened. You had just made him cum without any touch at all, without even knowing it. It was one of the best orgasms he had ever had, from his mind alone. He needed more.

Getting a private dance was easy, the details being a bit fuzzy in Kamo’s mind. All he could focus on was sitting in a lounge chair in a small, yet desolate room. It had soft red walls with low lighting that made everything seem darker than it actually was. Maybe it was to further the arousal building again in his lower abdomen. Again? He wasn’t sure how, but he was finding himself becoming hard again just at the thought of you. Was this what it was like to be down bad? Down astronomical?

His thoughts got interrupted when you entered the room, lacy black set making his body turn on fire. A lump in the man's throat formed when you spoke in your angelic voice, “Choso, right?” You introduced yourself, turning a bit shy when you saw his very large erection forming in his skinny jeans, “Excited huh?”

He couldn’t speak, well it felt like it. With a loud swallow, the male attempted to form some coherent words, “Y..yeah. I guess you could say that.” Embarrassment filled his face in the form of a pink stain, blushing his cheeks and dabbling his nose. Was this what it felt like to pay for a woman to give him attention? For thirty minutes you were all his, and all he could do was stare as you moved your body.

“It’s okay. I know it’s your first time too,” you cooed, closing the door with your hip as you continued softly, “I’ll be gentle…” That tone, it was better than he could have imagined. If you didn’t stop soon he knew he’d be in deep shit. Choso’s hands tightened on the armrest as you approached, putting a hand atop his. Something about your eyes was telling him to relax and he wanted to listen. He wanted to give in and let you have your way with him for as long as you wanted, until you were tired of him. Until he was completely and utterly yours.

He let go of the armrest and you smiled, “Good boy. I’ll take it slow too,” your voice was music to his ears, so the raven-haired male let himself close his eyes for a moment to compose himself. Your perfume, a mix of chocolate and cherries filled his nose. It was sweet and pleasurable. He didn’t realize you were getting closer until his eyes fluttered open. Kamo felt his breath hitch when your face was mere inches from his own, lips forming a pout.

“H-Hey…” He breathed out, and you smiled.

“Hi, handsome,” your breath was sweet too, like candy. Before he knew it, you seated yourself on his lap, hovering over his obvious boner. It was hard to avoid, but you managed to keep your distance. This was getting too much for him and it hadn’t even begun. Your smell, your presence, it was going to make him spill over the edge again and again if you let him.

“You can touch me, baby,” you smiled through white teeth, leaning back and pressing your hefty breasts together, hands lightly thrumming on your own skin, “Tell me your fantasy.” This was different than anything he had ever seen in a movie. Was he supposed to touch you? Was this how you always operated in the club or was he special? God, Choso hoped he was special just for you.

“I want,” Choso’s voice stuck to his throat thickly, as he attempted to form words, “You…” And there it was, an opportunity to touch you. He didn’t take it for granted, placing two hands gingerly on your love handles. They were as soft as he had imagined, ever more so. Then his palms trailed to your hips, squeezing just a bit to see some kind of reaction. You bit your red bottom lip and inhaled just a bit, something he noticed and something he couldn’t help but drink in. You were intoxicating. He was practically drunk already and close to staining his underwear in pure white bliss.

“I want you,” the customer began again, focusing his eyes on your face with a sense of determination, “To ride me…” And he let out a small moan when you leaned into his touch, your clothed cunt grazing against his erection. That was enough and he groaned, trying his hardest to keep it in but he couldn’t, orgasming there on the spot in hot bouts of pleasure. He inhaled and whined lowly, throwing his head back and squeezing your hips to keep himself stable. Pleasure and orgasmic joy ran through his cock as his swollen urethra cried out hot cum into his jeans.

Your face looked a bit shocked at his actions, clearly understanding what had happened. But you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, your hands made home on his chest and rubbed small circles with your palms, fingers stretched out, “You want me, huh?” Your voice was teasing, almost rubbing salt into the wound. But he didn’t hear it. He could feel the throbbing in his ears getting louder and the throbbing in his pants started up again. What was going on with him? Never in his life had he come that much, especially without some form of physical stimulation.

“I …” Choso’s mind blanked when his eyes refocused onto you, leaning toward your touch. This was so overstimulating to be with you here, it was �� nice in a way. All his senses could do was focus on you and your touch. Your beautiful and amazing touch. He needed to savor this for as long as he possibly could until his time with you was up.

The man wasn’t sure how long he stayed with you seated atop his lap, but it wasn’t enough. When he left, he couldn’t help but think about your touch. It was heavenly, so heavenly he couldn’t stop but get aroused again. This time it was more of a burn than anything he had felt before. It was a fiery sensation burning in his cock as he sat in his car. It was different than the last times because it was an innate hunger deep inside his lower abdomen. It was different because he had to touch himself or he might’ve just dropped dead then and there.

Your face, he could see it contort in pleasure as he unzipped his pants. And your warmth, he could feel it when he snaked a hand around his length. This was nice, closing his eyes and feeling your walls clench around him, as his hand stroked himself slowly. Teasingly, tauntingly. He wanted to savor this newfound pleasure for as long as he physically could until he had to go home.

Kamo could feel your face press against his shoulder as you rode him, whining for more. You’d be needy, no matter how much game you talked. He could tell you’d beg for him to fuck you and you’d cry as he pounded you. He’d like that, to fuck you nice and good, huh? He’d make you beg for it, and make you ride it with your hands forced behind your back until you sobbed. He’d make you his, mark you with his mouth until you were covered in hickies. All over your thick breasts until your nipples were sore from his tongue, practically bleeding from how much he’d abuse them with his teeth.

He could hear you whine, basically, he could hear you crying for him. He’d fuck you good. He’d be the perfect boyfriend, too. No matter what you wanted, the man would get it for you. And meals? He’d cook! You didn’t want to clean? He’d clean! Choso would be your house husband if he could just be yours.

When he came, his cock was throbbing. He was milked beyond belief, leaking slowly into his palm as he gasped. Guttural groans filled the air he arched his back to the sensation. It was so good, and it would’ve been better if it was your hands. If it was your pussy, squelching as he made you, his.

And he was going to make you, his.

Choso didn’t want to admit it, but he was going to come back every Saturday until he married you. Was it too forward to already think of vows or what colors would be prominent at your wedding? Probably! Was he doing it anyway? Absolutely!!

The first time you saw him again, you did a double take. Now he knew he was going to be going to the club, so he had time to get ready. He spent an hour doing his hair in his signature puffs, then his eye makeup in purple and red, followed by some eyeliner. Just one line from his eyelid down to his cheek on either eye, followed by tight-lining his eyes. He felt a bit overdressed, but those insecurities faded when he saw you. You were in a light blue lingerie set, something that accentuated your skin tone. And, it didn’t cover much. His eyes wandered for a moment as he found himself a seat at the front, by the stage.

The man wasn’t expecting much from this, but he hoped to have a private room with you again. Something to see you and feel you. Maybe this time he’d be able to compose himself long enough to fondle your breasts, or even squeeze your ass. Just seeing you in your glory, walking around to talk to guests was making him feel a certain type of way again.

It was quickly stopped by a man who approached you. He was taller and probably more intoxicated than anyone else in the building. The way he walked indicated he could barely even hold himself up, but he had one goal in mind. Getting to you. Maybe Choso was being jealous, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the man. The way he strutted to you and grabbed your arm, shouting something slurred in your direction, it angered him. How dare this man? What nerve did he have to think he could ever talk to a woman like that? Spouting such bile to someone as beautiful and amazing as you? He continued to pull at your arm as you shook your head and pulled it back, grabbing a drink from a nearby tray and throwing it to his face.

No one was coming quick enough. Why weren’t the bodyguards handling this? Why wasn’t someone doing anything?

Kamo stood and dusted his pants off. He hadn’t wanted to get involved in an outfit he liked so much, but for you, he’d do anything. He was hooked on you, your voice, your scent, your hair, your everything … all after one day. So you shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked up to the much taller man and socked him in the jaw. There was a very high chance that could have gone south, or completely missed. But somehow, his balled-up fist plowed the guy in the head, enough to make him stumble. Of course, it wouldn’t have knocked him over. But he was aiming to disorient enough to get you to the back or somewhere safe.

“Choso?” You spoke, grabbing onto his arm, “You… really didn’t have to do that.” Before he could respond, the drunken man attempted to tackle Choso down. Thankfully for him, you grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way. He stumbled forward and looked at you, smiling thankfully before turning his attention to the drunken man who was not giving up any time soon. Maybe punching him was a bad idea.

“Um,” he pressed his lips together, before forming a very awkward smile, “Will you marry me?” The drunk was busy grabbing a chair to throw, giving the two of you a few seconds before disaster. And of course, with the adrenaline, he wasn’t thinking.

“What?!” You whipped your head to him.

“Come to my car?” He said instead, offering his hand to you. The most he could do was offer you a ride home and hope security would take care of the issue. And a part of him really hoped you’d say yes for selfish reasons. He wanted you to trust him and let him in, and maybe then your relationship would blossom. Maybe then, you’d kiss him. It was farfetched as hell to imagine he’d get anything more than a handshake out of this, but he wanted to hope.

You took his hand and let him swiftly lead you to his old beat-up Kiya, parked quite a ways away, “Um. You didn’t have to do that.”

Kamo shook his head to dismiss that thought from your mouth, “I wanted to. No one else was going to protect you.” With a smile he clicked his keys, seeing his car light up a few spots ahead, “We can just wait in here until they kick him out, uhm, you know.” Your face lit up in a way he hadn’t seen before. Something sweet about it. It was a mix of relief and happiness. Your lips pursed together into a pout and your face began to redden. To Choso, it was adorable. He wanted to take you and hold you in his arms, vowing to protect you from the world and anyone who dared hurt you. Maybe that was extreme. But he would give his right arm just to hold you for a minute, pressing you close against his chest and closing his eyes, as he smelt your hair.

“Thank you, Choso. You didn’t have to,” was all you spoke, quiet and soft. It was a change from how seductive and snarky you could be, and he liked it more. It was a more genuine side to you, and the man wanted to see more of it.

He led you to his car, turned it on, and opened the back door for you to sit. He just assumed you’d prefer the room in the back rather than the small seats up front. Sitting beside you, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you looked out the car window. It was nice for a moment, to smell your perfume and to see you look comfortable. The way your body molded to the seat as you just sat there, your stomach bunching together in rolls, and how you leaned against one arm. You were cute. You were amazing.

“Um,” Choso broke the silence after a moment, watching your head turn to him. Your eyes scanned his face and you smiled, awaiting his next words, “Are you cold? I could give you a spare jacket…?” His voice trailed off when you pressed your glossy lips together.

“I could come closer to you?” You asked, tilting your head to the side and letting a few loose strands from your hairstyle fall across your forehead. Without being able to think if it was appropriate, Kamo reached forward and gently pushed some of the hairs away from your face, just so he could see all of your beauty in the moonlight. He hadn’t fully registered what you said until a few moments later when a red blush trailed up his temples. You wanted to sit next to him? You wanted him? It was hard for the male to imagine that the way he felt about you could ever be reciprocated. He didn’t speak but instead nodded. A smile, wider than before, pulled at your full lips as you scooted closer. Your big thighs stuck to the leather seats as you crawled toward him, sitting down right beside him. Your plush hand fell atop his and your eyes met.

Was this intimacy? Was intimacy more than simply fucking each other, but instead feeling a deep, soulful connection? Choso, in all honesty, had never felt a connection to someone so soon and so intensely, without knowing them. You were different. In the way you carried yourself and how he was beginning to see your mind too. It was different. Of course, your beauty captivated him. But you had something special to you hidden beneath the jewels of your flesh. Your warmth was comforting to him as you leaned your side against his. Hands on hands and skin on skin. That was what the raven-haired male liked. He needed you. He needed to make sure you were okay, and if you were, that was all that mattered.

Slowly, as the evening progressed he found you inching your way closer to his body until you were practically on top of him. Your arm weasled its way around him and pulled the man closer, letting you be one. His arm found its way around your shoulders. Without saying anything he pulled you in and let you rest. You were in control of the situation. Anything you wanted to do him he would comply and follow to any extent you wanted him to. If all you wanted was his warmth and his arm, he’d give you both without hesitation.

And slowly, you sat up and stared into his eyes. There was another look there than what he had seen the last week. Rather than a calculated lustful look, designed to make any man's knees weak, it was genuine. It was longing in a way he hadn’t seen in anyone in so long. You stared at him like he was a treasure you wanted to take apart and search with delicate hands, terrified of destroying. You looked at him with wide eyes, full of desire. But it was a desire to get closer, closer in every sense of the word. You wanted to be in him, on him, with him, near him; Intellectually and physically, mentally and emotionally. Were you as crazy down bad as him??? Honestly … yeah.

Choso uttered your name, low in the base of his throat, before he leaned in. It was slow and methodical and god, he wanted to cave and force your mouth onto his. But he wanted to savor this moment as much as he could, even if it meant putting himself in agony. Your lips met slowly, molding together in harmony for one slow second before you opened your mouth. Inviting him in, you kissed delicately and placed your arms on his sides. He wasn’t sure what to do, but followed your lead, kissing as you did. Your heads turned in opposite directions, opening up for more room to explore with your tongues. The intensity grew, as did the burning desire in his pants to feel your pussy. To feel you, live you, breathe you, he was going insane. Just touching your hair, trying his hardest not to mess it up, was sending hot arousal down his cock into his swollen head.

Deeply and passionately he kissed you as if the world would collapse unless your lips were on his. Deeply he swallowed you whole, just by pressing his mouth onto yours. If you weren’t the one kissing him he would have never wanted to kiss again. His hands found home on your hips and slowly pulled you onto his lap with practical ease. His arms wrapped around your waist and he seated you on his erection. It was so hot to feel your warm, wet, and clothed pussy against his groin, desperately beginning to grind for release. But Choso didn’t want you two to just bump and grind. He needed to be inside you or he was actually going to drop dead.

“Please…” Kamo whined, breaking from the kiss to stare into your eyes with his grey orbs, eyelids hanging low and lashes brushing against his cheeks, “Let me fuck you… I want to.. Mmm.. I want to touch you so bad..” His large hands squeezed your hips again, harder, with more drive. If he wasn’t going to be inside you why would he even live??

You nodded your head quickly and went to work. It was easy to free his cock from his jeans, then his boxers. All you had to do was unzip and pop it out. He was a bit shy to show himself to you, but your wide eyes and slacked jaw proved to him you seemed to like it. The man wouldn’t have considered himself huge but on the bigger end of the spectrum.

He ran his fingers down your front, thumbing your laced pantie set as they trailed further to your core. Just a few more inches and he’d be touching your pussy. If only he could live in it. His index and middle gently pried away the fabric so he could lay eyes on your perfect cunt. Even if it had discoloration, moles, or hair, or it wasn’t what he had seen on porn … he didn’t care. It was yours. Choso had been dreaming of this day for so long [1 SINGULAR WEEK]. He dipped into your wetness, rubbing one small circle just to see your sensitive reaction. Your breath hitched in a way he hadn’t seen before, your muscles clenched in your jaw and your hands rested on his shoulders. Beautiful. You were utterly beautiful.

He pulled your undergarments to the side and lifted you up a bit, attempting to position you in the somewhat dark parked car. You helped a bit, grabbing a hold of his length and stroking up a bit in a teasing motion. Choso stuttered in his movements and slowly lowered you down. He was going to cum from pure impact alone. He already knew he wasn’t going to last long, but your pussy was making it damn near impossible. Tight walls enveloped his cock, covering it like a warm and soft hug as they stretched to accommodate his girth. Wetness spread down his member and for a moment he swore he could’ve felt you pulsate above him.

“Choso,” you spoke impatiently, grabbing a hold of his face and pulling him in, “Please just … kiss me or something.” That was all you needed to say for him to take it from there. His lips met yours quickly, taking peck after peck until his head turned to the side and took in your bottom one. He wanted to do so much in such little time, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once. Big hands took your love handles and rocked you back and forth a bit, just making sure you were adjusted to his penis before he began to thrust you up and down. Kamo wanted you to bounce and cry on his cock until you were nothing more than a blabbering mess. He wanted you to choke on his cum after he face-fucked you, making you swallow every drop. He wanted to do so much in such little time.

He lifted you up just a bit to get a good angle, as he fucked into you. Tight and squishy, and warm and like melted honey on his length. You were so hot, your noises, your face, your fucking pussy. God, it was harder for him to concentrate on kissing you as he was fucking you. Your kisses were needy and incessant as was his urge to breed you- my god. He couldn’t help but barely hang on as white-hot bliss was building deep in his lower abdomen. The male's hips thrust forward, hitting your swollen spot. He could tell he was fucking you oh so good because your lips were trying to catch up with his. Your grip on his shirt got tighter and for a second he swore you were clenching around him tighter than you had before.

“H-Harder.. Mm..- hhah.. Cho-Cho..Choso..” You whimpered, pulling back from the kiss to rest your head on his shoulder. He wasn’t holding back anymore, groaning out as he was beginning to ride out his slow high. The man inhaled and gasped, grunting forward as you moaned. Your moans were perfect. They were music to his ears, making him spill almost instantly. Within seconds of pumping into you, he was fucking his seed right back inside your pretty cunt. He could imagine it, giving you a baby. Making you a pretty mommy as many times as you wanted. He’d never get tired of cuming into your hot pussy and painting your walls milky white.

Choso continued until he heard you cry out and arch your back, biting your lips and trying not to scream. He knew you were cumming then. He was past the point of sensitivity to feel anything, so he continued to fuck you good. All he wanted was to please you and make you cum. Your walls clenched around him as he touched your G-spot, violating it with his cock-head. You came and groaned, biting back another cry as the pleasure crashed throughout your body.

It stayed like that for a minute as he slowed his humping down to a stop, letting you keep a nice seat on his lap. All the two of you could hear were the sounds of your heavy breathing, mixed with the low hum of his car air conditioner.

This is the perfect time to propose, “...About what I, um, said earlier…”

#jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo smut #choso x you #choso smut #choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #smut #x reader smut #ryiju-muunie writing

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littlelamy · 3 months ago

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halloween w/ the camerons: soft!rafe x reader

the kildare halloween party was in full swing, the air thick with the haze of smoke machines and the beat of bass-heavy music. rainbow lights flickered over a sea of costumes, each more elaborate than the last. In the middle of this chaotic celebration, rafe cameron stood out, not just for his princely costume but for the magnetic energy he exuded.

you had turned heads the moment you walked in, your sexy rapzunel princess costume drawing the eyes of everyone in the room. the mini skirt barely skimmed your thighs, the tight corset accentuating every curve.

rafe, dressed as flynn rider, was both amused and captivated by your outfit. his costume was spot-on— a brown leather vest over a white, slightly open shirt, paired with dark pants and worn-in boots that gave him that roguish charm. a satchel hung casually over his shoulder, completing the look. he looked every bit the daring adventurer, though his usual smirk held a hint of something more appreciative tonight.

you made your way through the crowd, each step accentuating the playful sway of your hips. rafe’s eyes followed you, and when you finally reached him, he took your hand with a roguish grin. “my sexy little princess,” he purred, his voice low and intoxicating. “shall we dance?”

with a nod, you let him guide you to the center of the dance floor. the crowd parted for you both, as if acknowledging that the real show was about to begin. rafe pulled you close, his hand resting on your lower back, the other entwined with yours.

the music was a sultry rhythm that seemed to synchronize perfectly with the beat of your hearts. rafe's movements were fluid and sensual, with every step calculated to draw you even closer. you felt the heat radiating from his body, and it only fueled the desire within you.

you moved against him with a confidence that matched his own. your hips swayed in time with the music, and rafe’s hand traveled up your lower back, his fingers teasing the edge of your crop top. his touch was possessive but gentle, sending shivers down your spine.

“is this how you dance with all your princesses?” you teased, your voice just above a whisper.

“only the ones who turn me on,” rafe replied, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. his breath was warm and intoxicating, making your pulse quicken.

you tilted your head back, meeting his gaze. the intensity in his eyes was matched by the mischievous smirk on his lips. “well, lucky for you, i’m here to make sure you don’t have to lose your mind alone.”

as you pressed closer, you felt his hands move lower, his grip tightening just enough to make you gasp. the friction between you was electric, each movement enhancing the seductive dance you were performing. rafe’s lips found the curve of your neck, his kisses soft and deliberate, sending waves of pleasure through you.

you responded in kind, your hands roaming over his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric of his costume. the music seemed to fade into the background as your world narrowed to the space between you. every beat of the song matched the pounding of your heart, each rhythm a reminder of how perfectly you fit together.

rafe’s lips traveled to your shoulder, his tongue tracing a teasing line along your skin. you moaned softly, unable to suppress the sounds of your pleasure. his touch was both gentle and demanding, a perfect balance of control and abandon.

“you’re driving me crazy,” he murmured against your skin. “i can’t get enough of you.”

you smiled, the words only spurring you on. With a playful twist of your hips, you forced him to adjust his stance, pulling him even closer. his hands gripped your waist firmly, his fingers digging in just enough to make you shiver. the music swelled, and the dance became more intense, more urgent.

the way rafe moved with you was sensual. his breaths came faster, his grip on you tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. You could feel his desire building, his body pressed so close to yours that it felt like a second skin.

“do you know what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

you met his gaze, the heat in your eyes matching his own. “i think I do.”

rafe pulled you against him, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss. the world around you ceased to exist, leaving only the sensation of his mouth moving over yours, the taste of him lingering on your tongue.

as you broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathless. the intensity of the moment had left you both in a daze, but neither of you wanted to let go.

“you’re incredible,” rafe said, his voice full of awe.

you smiled, your fingers tracing a line down his chest. “and you’re my prince charming.”

he chuckled, the sound a mix of satisfaction and desire. “let’s keep this dance going, then.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

#rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron x reader #soft!rafe cameron #soft!rafe x reader

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lee-laurent · 3 months ago

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True Love's Kiss - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn's in love... with his brother's ex-girlfriend

content: fluff, angst, kissing, making out, mentions of sex but no explicit smut, ex relationships, arguments

wc: 13.9k

notes: i'm so so so excited for this one!!!!! i was between this plot idea and quinn dating trevor's ex or trevor dating quinn's ex. so if you guys wanna see either of us just let me know.

It was a crisp, early fall day in Ann Arbor. The atmosphere at the Michigan football stadium was electric, thousands of people wearing maize and blue, feeling the "Big House" for the season opener. Quinn was standing next to Luke and some of his teammates, taking in the scene. Quinn felt a weird sense of nostalgia being there, reminding him of his own time at Umich, and he had no doubt that Luke was feeling the same way.

Quinn wasn't one for big crowds, unless he was playing hockey in front of it, but Luke had insisted he come to his alma mater with him. The energy around them was intense--people cheering and music blasting, but Quinn wasn't fully focused on the game. His mind wandered, as it often did, to the upcoming hockey season and his responsibilties as captain. After a few minutes of talking with Luke and his friends, Quinn felt the need to escape from the crowd for a bit.

"I'm gonna find a bathroom," he muttered to Luke, who was too busy joking with his old teammates to notice.

He slipped away, weaving through packs of students and families. Eventually he found a quieter section of the stadium, far from the chaos near his brother. He glanced around, squinting in search of a bathroom sign when something--or rather, someone--caught his eye.

There she was.

Standing by one of the snack vendors, talking to a group of people Quinn vaguely recognized from his own time at Umich, was Harriet--Harrie. Jack's ex. He had only really met her once or twice, usually just hearing about her from his younger brothers, but he could still recognize her.

At first, he didn't full register what he was seeing. He hadn't expected to run into her here. Sure she still went to Umich, but there were thousands of students there. He hadn't seen her in years, but she looked pretty much the same... yet different. Older, more confident in the way she carried herself. She was laughing with her friends, her curls bouncing as she threw her hair back.

Quinn shifted on his feet, trying to decide if he should go say 'hi.' He could walk past--pretend he never saw her and go on with his day--but his feet seemed to have a different idea. He was already walking toward her, pulled by something he couldn't explain.

The closer he got, the more he started to question his decision. What would he even say? Ask her how she's been? Surely he shouldn't bring up Jack. He hadn't been close to her when she dated his brother. But he knew that their breakup had been mutual. Still, the fact that she was Jack's ex made approaching her slightly more scary than normal.

"Quinn?"

Her voice was laced with surprise, snapping him from his worried thoughts. Harried had noticed him approaching, her friends now shifting their attention to him as well.

"Harrie," he replied, trying his best to sound casual.

Harrie's lips curved in a genuine smile as she stepped from her group, getting closer to Quinn. "I didn't expect to see you here," she said, her voice light, but Quinn could sense the surprise in her tone. "Is this your scene?"

He huffed, shoving his hands into the pocket of his Michigan jacket. "Not usually, no. But Luke's got a way of dragging me to things."

"Supportive big brother," she teased, her eyes studying his face. Quinn wasn't sure if it was the stadium lights or just his nerves, but he felt like he was under a microscope.

"What about you?" he asked, trying to push through the awkwardness he was feeling. "You still at Umich?"

Harrie nodded. "Yeah, for a bit longer. I'm graduating early, but I'm stuck here for a little more."

"Graduating early?" Quinn couldn't help but be impressed. It hadn't been that long since Jack and Harrie had broken up, and to hear that she was already almost done with her degree caught him off guard. "That was... fast."

She shrugged, her confidence apparent. "Yeah, I guess I'm just that good." There was a teasing look in her eyes, but Quinn could tell she wasn't bragging--just being herself.

For a moment, they just stood there. Quinn couldn't look away, he wasn't sure what it was. He wasn't supposed to think of Harrie as anything more than Jack's ex. But she seemed like she was more than that now. Like she'd written a new chapter in her life since going to Umich.

"Well, it was nice running into you," Harrie finally said. "I've gotta get back to my friends." She adjusted her tube top, flashing a quick smile before stepping back toward her friends.

"Yeah, of course. Good seeing you."

Quinn found himself staring as she walked away. He couldn't help but feel like he should've asked more questions, but what good would that have done? He was probably never going to see her again.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

He just took a breath and shook his head, finally actually heading into the bathroom. He couldn't shake Harrie from his mind. It was so weird seeing her there. What were the chances? What a small world.

Quinn worked his way back to Luke and his friends, weaving through the packed stands, flashing his badge to the security. His mind was still on Harrie. The brief encounter had thrown him off-guard, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

"Dude, where the hell were you?" Dylan laughed, barely glancing away from the field. "Took you long enough to find a bathroom."

Quinn shrugged, "Ran into someone." He didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though it felt like a bigger deal than he cared to admit.

"Who?" Luke asked, turning to face his brother.

"Harrie," Quinn replied, trying to keep it nonchalant. "You know, Jack's ex."

The group's reaction was immediate. Mark let out a low whistle, and Dylan raised an eyebrow, both now suddenly much more interested in Quinn's bathroom break.

"Harrie?" Luke's eyebrows shot up. "What, you ran into her here?"

"Yeah, by the vendors. We talked for a bit."

"Man, Harrie's still around? Haven't seen her in a hot minute," Ethan asked. "Saw her at a few parties last year... total knockout."

Quinn shifted in his seat, trying to ignore how they were talking about Harrie like she was a social spectacle. Did most guys talk about Harrie like that?

"She's still finishing up school, though, right?" Dylan chimed in. "Isn't she graduating early or something?"

Luke nodded. "Yeah, she's almost done. Doesn't party much anymore. She's all business now." He glanced at Quinn. "Did you hear about what happened last year?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Luke debated whether he should bring it up or not, but the grin pulling at the side his lips made it clear he couldn't resist. "When Jack came to visit me for that weekend, and we all went to that party. Harrie was there, and... well, one thing led to another, and they hooked up."

"Wait, what?" Quinn blinked, surprised. Jack and Harrie hooking up? His mind reeled for a second, feeling a strange mix of shock and something else--something he couldn’t quite name. "Seriously?"

"Seriously? Jack got back with her for the night?"

"Yeah, but it was a one-time thing," Luke shrugged. "At least, that's what Jack said. But I don't know, man... I don't think he's totally over her. Even if he won't admit it." He chuckled like it wasn't a big deal, but the words felt heavy to Quinn.

Ethan shook his head, nudging Quinn. "Your brother's a lucky bastard, huh? Hooking up with his ex like that? Must've been some party."

Jack and Harrie hooking up again? That was news to Quinn. Why hadn't Jack told him? He usually told him shit like that. He had just assumed Jack was over her, that their breakup was clean and mutual. Now... he wasn't so sure.

Was Jack still into Harrie? Luke had mentioned it so casually, like it wasn't filled with drama. Why was Quinn so caught up on this? He shook his head, turning his attention back to the game. He didn't need to focus on stupid shit like that, he had a season coming up.

It was rare in February for Quinn to have a day off, but he did. He finally had a chance to breathe. He felt slightly more at ease than normal, but his mind still raced with thoughts of his captaincy, team responsibilities, and all that pressure that came with it. He decided to make his way to his regular coffee spot--hoping it would help him decompress a bit.

The bell above the door jingled as he pushed it open, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose. It was pretty quiet for a mid-morning, just a few tables with students studying. Quinn glanced around to find that his favourite corner table was still open.

Score.

"What can I get you?"

Quinn blinked, snapping his head up. And there she was.

Harrie.

For a second, he thought he was imagining things, but there was mistaking the girl behind the counter. Her usual brunette curls pulled back in a ponytail, the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, her green eyes locking with his. She looked exactly how she did in the fall at Michigan.

Harrie blinked, clearly as caught-off as he was. "Quinn?"

"Harrie?"

She smiled, her surprise fading away. "Well... this is unexpected." She let out a small, awkward laugh, brushing a loose curl behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

Quinn cleared his throat, still processing that she was standing in front of him. "Just grabbing a coffee. What about you? You're... working here?" His voice definitely gave away his surprise, but he couldn't help it.

She nodded, shrugging. "Yeah, just for now. I graduated early, like I said. Moved to Vancouver right after. I'm still looking for an editing job, but in the meantime..." She gestured around the café. "Barista life it is."

"Vancouver? You moved here?"

Harrie chuckled, looking amused by his reaction. "Yeah. Decided it was time for a change after Michigan. I always liked Vancouver... and, you know, figured I'd try something new." There was a beat of silence before she added, "It's kind of weird that we ran into each other again, huh?"

Quinn nodded slowly. Weird didn't even begin to cover it. He hadn't seen her since the football game, and now here she was--living in Vancouver, the one place he never expected to see her. "Yeah, it's... definitely unexpected.

Harrie tilted her head slightly, the teasing confidence that he remembered from the game started to seep back into her voice. "What, you didn't think I'd end up in Vancouver?"

He shook his head. "I didn't think I'd run into you at a coffee shop." He paused, glancing up at the menu board to try and mask the awkward tension he felt. "I'll just get my usual... black coffee, medium. Please."

She punched the order into the register, the smile never leaving her face. When she handed him the receipt, their hands brushed briefly, and Quinn swore he felt a flicker of something. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make him pull his hand back just a little too quickly.

Harrie noticed, her smile faltering for a few seconds. "I'll get that started. Should only take a minute."

Quinn watched as she made his coffee. She seemed more relaxed than she did at the football game, but maybe that was just because of the lack of crowd at the coffee shop. Whatever it was, he couldn't help but shake that she felt like more than just Jack's ex. She was... Harrie. She was her own person, not tied down to the label of Jack's ex in Vancouver. Before he could think of it too much more, she slid his coffee across the counter.

"Here you go. One black coffee, medium."

"Thanks."

Harrie leaned slightly on the counter, studying him a moment before asking, "How's everything going with the season?"

"It's... good. Busy, but good." He wasn't used to talking about hockey with someone outside of his usual circle. Most people either asked for too many details or not at all. But Harrie seemed genuinely curious, without pushing.

"That's good. Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate."

Quinn shrugged, unsure of what to say next. "Yeah, you know... captain stuff." He had questions he wanted to ask her, but they felt too nosey. How was she settling into Vancouver, had she seen Jack since that party, were things really over between them?

But instead he just took his coffee and didn't add anymore to his reply.

"Well, maybe I'll see you around. It seems like we have a habit of running into each other," Harrie offered.

Quinn chuckled. "Yeah, maybe." Maybe he should keep the conversation going. What could he ask that wasn't too weird and creepy. "I--" The bell above the door jingled, and a couple of customers walked in, pulling Harrie's attention away from him.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?"

He didn't want to seem like a creep, standing there and watching her do her job. So, he made his way over to his table in the corner and busied himself with his phone, trying not to think about how much he wanted to keep talking to her. Why did her being here matter to him so much?

It had become somewhat of a habit on days that Quinn had downtime, he'd find himself back in the coffee shop. He wasn't really expecting to run into her, but maybe he was hoping.

And he finally had his lucky day.

The familiar bell jingled as he walked in. The café was busier this time, almost all of the tables full of people doing work or conversing. Quinn scanned the room as he walked up to the counter, eyes flickering to the cash register.

There she was.

Harrie was working the counter again, moving with her usual confidence and smile on her face. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a second, Quinn debated just walking out the door.

But before he could make that decision, she glanced up and their eyes locked.

"Hey! Back again, huh?" She teased, and Quinn felt his chest flutter with nerves.

"Yeah, I guess I'm becoming a regular," he replied. "Just the usual, please."

Harrie gave him a small nod as she rang him up, but just as Quinn was reaching for his card, she paused, sliding a pastry across the counter.

Quinn blinked, glancing at the pastry, confused. "I didn't order this."

"It's on the house. Just maybe don't tell your trainers." She winked, and Quinn found himself chuckling at her easy sense of humor.

"I'll try not to," he agreed, although he could already hear the hypothetical conversation about avoiding carbs in his head.

When she handed Quinn his coffee, he tried to think if he should continue the conversation again. He was about to step away when Harrie looked toward the clock and then back at him.

"I'm about to go on break," she said, much more casually than he expected. "If you don't mind the company, I'll join you for a bit."

Quinn felt something stir in his chest. Was it nerves? Anticipation? Whatever it was, he nodded quickly, trying to not seem too eager. "Yeah, sure. That'd be great."

He made his way to his usual corner table, settling into the chair, the pastry sitting in front of him as if it was daring him to eat it. It made him smile, Harrie was making him feel more relaxed than he had in weeks.

A few minutes later, she came over, sliding into the seat across from him, her own cup of coffee in her hand. "It's busy today," she glanced around the room. "Surprised you're not sick of this place already."

"It's become a good spot for some downtime. No rink, no meetings--just coffee."

Harrie nodded. "I get that. When I first moved here, I thought I'd be exploring the city every day, but honestly... this place has become like my comfort zone. Small, cozy... familiar."

He had so many questions he wanted to ask, and now that they were sitting there, it felt the perfect chance to really get to know her.

"So... why Vancouver? What made you decide to come here after Michigan."

She tilted her head, like she hadn't expected him to ask that, but like she appreciated it. "I've always loved Vancouver. My parents took me here when I was little and it kinda just like stuck with me. After I graduated, I just felt like I needed a change, ya know? Something different. Plus, I didn't really want to stay in Michigan. Too many memories."

He knew what she meant, even though she hadn't said it outright. Jack. There was no way that wasn't a part of why she left, but Quinn didn't press. He didn't want to make this about Jack.

"How's the job search going?"

Harrie sighed, "It's been slow. I'm looking for something in editing--publishing, mostly--but there aren't a lot of opportunities here." She glanced down at her cup, swirling the coffee around before looking up at him. "But I'm trying to stay optimistic. It'll happen eventually."

Quinn admired that about her. How she seemed so grounded, even when things weren't going according to plan. It made her even more intruiging.

"You're a lot more patient than I'd be," Quinn admitted, smiling. "I'm pretty sure I'd have given up and moved on by now."

"I don't know if it's patience or stubbornness at this point." She paused, studying him for a moment before adding, "What about you? How's the season treating you?"

"It's... a lot," he said honestly. "Being captain is great, but it's not exactly a walk in the park." He didn't want to seem like he was complaining, but Harrie didn't seem to be judging him regardless.

"I bet. That's a lot of responsibility. But from what I've heard, you're doing great."

"You've... heard about me?"

"I still follow hockey, you know. Plus, you're like kind of a big deal here."

"Not that big of a deal."

Things went quiet as they finished their drinks, the air between them more comfortable, more familiar. Quinn really felt like he was seeing Harrie in a different light. She wasn't just Jack's ex. She was funny, determined, and easy to talk to in a way that he didn't expect.

"It's been nice talking, but I should probably get back to work."

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, of course. Thanks for the company."

She gave me a warm smile as she made her way back to the counter. A smile that would be burned into Quinn's mind until he saw her again.

It was becoming routine. Quinn didn't have to hope he'd run into Harrie anymore--he knew when she'd be there.

They'd started meeting regularly at the coffee shop, sometimes on weekends, sometimes during the week when Quinn had downtime. It had only been a few weeks, but things felt natural. The initial awkwardness had faded away into casual conversation.

Quinn found himself scanning the room as soon as he walked in the door. Finding her sitting in their usual corner, already halfway through a cup of coffee and a book in hand.

"Hey!" Harrie smiled when she saw him, placing a bookmark on the last page she'd read. "I got your coffee. Figured you'd be here soon."

"You know me too well."

"It's easy when you're a creature of habit," Harrie winked, taking a sip of her own coffee.

They fell into their usual rhythm, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Harrie had a special talent for making conversation feel effortless, and Quinn found himself looking forward to their meetings more and more.

"So I think it went well," she said, pushing a curl behind her ear. "I mean, I'm still waiting to hear back, but the editor seemed really interested in my experience."

"That's awesome," Quinn said, genuinely happy for her. "Sounds like things are looking up."

"Yeah, I hope so. I've kinda been in limbo for a while now. It'd be nice to get some like real direction, ya know?"

"I get it. It's like that sometimes. You think you have a plan, but things don't always go the way you expect."

"Exactly," Harrie agreed. "It's just about staying patient, I guess. Even when it's like really fucking hard."

"You've got patience for days," Quinn teased, leaning back in his seat. "You'll get there."

They shared a smile, and Quinn felt a comfortable warmth settle between them. It wasn't forced, and it didn't feel like work. It just... was.

"Speaking of plans," he leaned forward slightly, "we've got a home game coming up this weekend. You should come."

Harrie raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Are you inviting me to one of your games?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I mean, no pressure, but it could be fun. If you're free, you should come watch."

"You make it sound so casual, like it's just a pick-up game at the local rink."

"Well, it's not exactly that. But yeah, come if you want. I'll leave tickets for you at will-call."

"You're on," she raised her mug in a mock toast. "I wouldn't miss it."

They clinked their cups together. It wasn't a big deal--at least not yet--but Quinn liked the idea of her being there. Of her watching him do what she loved.

The arena was still buzzing after the game, the energy of the win carrying through the halls as fans filed out. Quinn could hear the usual mix of shouts, laughter, and the occasional interview as he stepped out of the locker room, his bag flung over his shoulder.

He hadn't expected to feel nervous about Harrie being at the game. But his heart skipped a beat when he saw her standing at the end of the hall.

"There he is! The man of the hour!" she called out, a wide grin on her face as he walked over to her.

"Hey, you stayed."

"Of course I did," she pulled him into a hug. It was friendly, casual--but there was something about the way she squeezed his shoulder that made him feel lighter than he had in days. "You were amazing out there, Quinn. I'm seriously so proud of you."

He wasn't used to hearing that outside of the hockey world--his teammates, coaches, family, and even fans would offer praise, but hearing it from her? It felt different. Genuine.

"Thanks. I'm glad you came."

"Told you I wouldn't miss it. It was like super cool to see you in your element."

"Hey," Quinn said after a beat of silence, glancing toward the exit that the players took. "I was thinking... if you're not busy, we could grab some takeout and just hang out at my place? Nothing fancy, just chill."

"Takeout and chill?" she teased, making him roll his eyes. "Sounds like the perfect post-game celebration."

"Yeah, something like that. You in?"

"Duh," she gave me a nudge. "Let's go."

They ended up back at Quinn's place, bags of takeout in hand. It wasn't his usual post-game routine--usually it as grabbing food with a couple of the guys and then heading home to crash. But this? It just felt right.

Quinn tossed his keys on the counter and gestured to the living room. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll grab plates."

Harrie flopped down on the couch, kicking off her shoes as she surveyed the space. "Nice place, Hughesy. Minimalist but cozy."

"Minimalist? That's a fancy way of saying I don't have much shit."

"Hey, it works. I hate clutter anyway."

Quinn returned with plates and chopsticks, setting the takeout containers on the coffee table. The settled in, spreading out the food and digging in.

"So," Harrie started between bites of stir-fry, "you never told me how it feels being captain. I know we've talked about hockey in general, but like... how's it been? The pressure, the responsiblity, all of it?"

Most people didn't ask him about the emotional side of being captain--they were more interested in the wins, stats, or the highlights. But Harrie wasn't most people. She always asked about the things that actually mattered.

"That's a deep question to start with."

"You're stalling."

"It's a lot," Quinn admitted. "Good, but a lot. There's like always pressure on you, ya know? Not just as a player, but as a leader too. I have to make sure everyone is dialed in, not just myself. It's more than just playing hockey now."

Harried nodded. "That sounds like a huge responsibility. But from what I've seen, you're handling it really well."

"I'm trying. Some days are better than others." He glanced over at her, admiring how comfortable she looked, sitting there with takeout in her lap, genuinely interested in everything he had to say. "But I love it. Wouldn't change it for the world, even when it gets stressful."

"I can tell. You belong out there."

They fell into silence again, the sounds of the city buzzing outside as they ate. It again wasn't forced, just easy, like they'd done it a hundred times before. And as the night wore on, Quinn realized just how much he valued their friendship. Their connection.

"You ever miss Michigan?" she asked after a while.

"Sometimes. I mean, I miss being close to my family, but I love it here. Vancouver feels like home now."

Harried nodded, staring down at her empty container. "I get that. I miss certain things about Michigan, too. But Vancouver's starting to feel like home now... I think."

"Good. We'll make a Vancouverite out of you soon."

"Guess we'll see," she giggled.

The conversation continued to drift from one topic to another, neither of them wanting to cave and end the night. It was real and it was comfortable, and Quinn wanted nothing to change.

Quinn was scrolling aimlessly through Instagram when a text from Harrie popped up.

Guess who just landed a job at the publishing house?!

He blinked at the screen, a grin immediately spreading across his face as he sat up straighter. His heart lifted at the thought of her excitement.

No way! That's awesome! When do you start?

Two weeks! I'm still freaking tf out! We need to celebrate!!

Quinn felt so proud of her. After months of searching, she'd finally found something that fit her. He knew how much she'd been waiting for that moment.

Name the time and place. We can do dinner or a movie night if you're in the mood to keep it lowkey

Harrie's response came quickly and with clear excitement.

Move night!! How about my place? 7?

That evening Quinn found himself standing outside Harrie's apartment, takeout in hand. It wasn't the first time he'd been over. The coffee shop hangouts had been replaced by more relaxed meetups, and tonight was just like that.

He knocked lightly and within seconds, the door swung open to reveal Harrie's beaming face.

"Hey! You brought food? You're officially my favourite person."

"Figured we'd need something to go with the celebration."

They moved to the living room, setting up like they had many times before. Harrie was practically glowing, the excitement radiating off her in waves.

"I can't believe it. I thought the interview went well, but I didn't expect them to call so soon. It feels... surreal."

"You deserve it," Quinn said sincerely. "You've been working your ass off to get here. It was just a matter of time, Harrie."

"Thanks, Q. It means a lot."

They laughed and celebrated her new job and by the time they finally settled into picking a movie, any nerves that Harrie felt were gone.

"Okay, you pick," she tossed him the remote.

Quinn caught it with ease, pretending to think deeply about his choice. "Hm... I'm thinking something classic. You can't go wrong with 'The Princess Bride.'"

Harrie's eyes lit up. "Oh my God, yes! I haven't watched that in forever!"

This was nice. It was really nice.

Weeks had passed since their first movie night, and it had officially become part of their routines. Whenever Quinn wasn't travelling for games, they'd meet at one of their apartments--sometimes his, sometimes hers--and spend the evening watching movies, eating, and talking about anything that came to mind. They'd become friends in the truest sense of the word.

Whenever Quinn was exhausted on roadies, he'd think of their next movie night. Harrie had become such a constant in his life, a part of his routine that he hated giving up for road trips.

They were just friends. That's all it was. And he missed hanging out with someone who took his mind off hockey.

But as he stared at the ceiling of his hotel room, replaying every hang out from the last few weeks, Quinn couldn't deny that he felt... something. Something more.

He tried to shake it off, telling himself that it was just because they were close now and spent lots of their time together. But even as he drifted off to sleep, his thoughts lingered on Harrie.

It was just another movie night. At least that's what Quinn was telling himself.

They'd done it so many times--takeout, a random movie, laughs, and then spending the rest of the night in easy conversation. It became something they both looked forward to after a long week of work. But that night, things felt different. Quinn couldn't place it, they just did.

They were at his place, sitting on the couch, plates long forgotten on the coffee table. The lights were dimmed, the movie they'd chosen playing in the background, but neither of them were paying much attention. The conversation had turned more personal, as it often did, but things felt charged that night.

Harrie was sitting closer than usual.

Quinn noticed it the second he sat down, and now he could feel her leg brushing against his. It wasn't like that hadn't happened before, but it felt more pursposeful this time.

"So," Harrie said, her fingers playing with the cuff of her shirt. "What's been on your mind lately? You've seemed... distracted."

Quinn blinked. He hadn't realized he'd been that transparent. "I guess I've been thinking about a lot of... things. Hockey, mostly. You know how it is."

Harrie nodded, but she searched his face for something more. "Yeah, but it feels like it's more than just hockey."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. The conversation was getting deeper, pulling in a direction he hadn't expected. But there was no going back.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I think I've just been trying to figure out where my head's at lately."

She tilted her head. "And have you figured it out?"

His heart was racing now, and he wasn't sure why. He looked up at her, his gaze locking with hers, and everything else seemed to fade away. The movie, the half-finished drinks on the table, the noise of the city outside--it all blurred into the background.

"I think I'm starting to."

Harrie didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes made his chest tight. They had been close for weeks-- closer than friends, even if neither of them had said it out loud. It felt like everything was finally coming to a head.

She shifted slightly, her knee pressing against his leg, and Quinn felt his breath hitch. It was subtle, but he still noticed. How could he not?

Harrie's gaze flickered down to his lips, and for the first time, Quinn let himself ask-- what if?

He wasn't entirely sure who moved first. Maybe it was him, maybe it was her, or maybe it was just the inevitable pull they'd both been feeling for weeks. But before he knew it, he was leaning in, and so was she. The space between them disappeared, and just like that, her lips met his.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if they were both testing the waters. But within seconds, it got deeper. Quinn melted into it, it felt so right.

Her hand made it's way to his shoulder, her fingers gripping lightly as she leaned in even closer. Everything Quinn had been overthinking--the boundaries of their friendship, the lines he was afraid to cross--all disappeared.

"Quinn..." Harrie whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah?" his voice was breathy.

She smiled, her hand still resting on his shoulder. "I think I've wanted to do that for a while."

"Yeah? I think I have, too."

There was no rush to define what had just happened, no need for overthinking. It felt natural.

"So... now what?" Harrie giggled. "Do we just pretend it didn't happen, or...?"

"I don't think we can pretend that didn't happen." He paused for a second, looking at her seriously. "Do you want to?"

"No. No, I don't."

"Good. Because I don't either."

One thing was clear--this was more than just a friendship now. And there was no going back.

It had only been a couple of weeks since their first kiss, but things between Quinn and Harrie had shifted completely. What had once been a comfortable friend had transformed into something that neither of them wanted to slow down.

That kiss had opened the door to a new level of closeness, and the lines between friendship and romance had quickly blurred. They hadn't talked much about what they were specifically--labels didn't seem necessary.

They were at Quinn's again, sitting on the couch like they had countless times before. But instead sitting with space between them, Harrie was talked under his arm, her head resting on his chest. Quinn was absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder as Netflix booted up on the TV.

"So, we're going with 'The Breakfast Club,' huh?" Harrie teased, looking up at him with a smirk.

"You know it's a classic," Quinn chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "I can't believe you've never seen it."

She rolled her eyes, snuggling closer to his side. "I know, I know. I've been told it's a crime. Guess you're here to fix that."

Quinn smiled. He liked that they'd been spending more time like that--cuddling, sharing more intimate moments. It wasn't just about that though. They were talking more, opening up in ways that hadn't been part of their friendship before.

They stayed cuddled for the rest of the movie, laughing at the cheesy parts, trading comments on the characters. But as the movie rolled on, Harrie's hand slipped onto Quinn's chest, and he couldn't help but notice how his heartbeat picked up whenever she touched him.

"You're kind of a softie, you know that?" she teased, trailing her fingers along the fabric of his shirt.

"Maybe. But you like it."

She bit her lip, "Yeah, I guess I do."

He leaned down slowly, his hand sliding up to cradle her cheek, and before either of them could overthink it, he kissed her. Soft at first, but quickly deepening, neither of them feeling the need to hold back like the first time.

Harrie shifted, turning slightly so she could face him more fully, her fingers curling into his shirt as she kissed him back. Quinn's other hand found her waist, pulling her onto his lap.

"Okay, you've convinced me," she heaved.

"About what?"

"That you're a softie," her eyes twinkled as she leaned in and kissed him again, this time softer, slower.

Kissing had become second nature, and every time Quinn pulled her closer, it felt like they were falling into something deeper.

It was late afternoon and they were lounging on the couch, as usual. The TV was on in the background, but Quinn had something else on his mind. Something he'd been thinking about for days, debating on whether or not to bring it up.

The playoffs were coming, and things between them had been going really well. Better than he could've imagined. Harrie was part of his life every day, and even though they still hadn't labelled what they were, Quinn felt it heading in that direction.

That's why he wanted her there--for the biggest game of his career so far. He wanted her to see him on the ice, to experience the excitement of playoffs with him.

He cleared his throat, looking down at her. "Hey, so I've been thinking... about the playoff games coming up."

Harrie looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? What about them?"

"I want you to come."

"You... want me to come to a playoff game?"

"Yeah," he sat up a little straighter. "I want you there. It's a big deal, and I just... want you to be a part of it."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, processing his words. "Are you sure? I mean, it's the playoffs, Quinn. That's, like, huge. Don't you have enough pressure without worrying about having me there?"

"It wouldn't be like that," Quinn assured. "Having you there would make it better. It wouldn't add pressure. I promise, Harrie."

She smiled, but there was doubt in her eyes. "I don't know... wouldn't it be weird? Like, I'm not officially your girlfriend or anything, so..."

Quinn cut her off, grabbing her hand. "Who cares about labels? You mean so much to me, Harriet. And the guys' girlfriends and wives... they'll love you. I already know it."

"I don't know, Quinn. I mean, it's not that I don't want to go, but..."

"There's something else," he studied her expression carefully. "What's really holding you back?"

Harrie sighed, how was she supposed to word this. She hadn't even voiced it aloud to herself, so she sure as hell wasn't ready to admit it to Quinn. She'd have to come up with an excuse. She couldn't tell him that she was afraid of being recognized by the other girls as Jack's ex. She'd look like a fool. "I guess I'm just worried about the other girlfriends. I don't want to... get in their way. It's stupid, I know. But I know myself and I'd rather be there and be... comfortable than a nervous wreck."

"I get it, Harrie. That's totally fine. If you'd rather sit elsewhere, you can sit elsewhere. I just want you to be there. Period."

"Thanks, Q."

"Of course. And besides..." He leaned forward, pulling something out from the side of the couch that he'd been hiding until the perfect moment.

He held up a Canucks jacket, one that she'd seen the other WAGs posting about. He'd gotten her one made? "I got this for you."

She stared at the jacket is disbelief, "Quinn... what? No! I can't wear that. I'm not even--"

"Yes, you can," he interrupted, his smile wide. "It's not a big deal. Just think of it as... supporting me. Sit wherever you want. No pressure to hang with the other WAGs. And you'll still have my name on your back." He flipped up the collar, showing his signature printed on the underside.

Harrie let out a nervous laugh, eyeing the jacket like it was some sort of magical item. "You really want me to wear this? And I don't have to sit with them?"

"Not if you don't want to. But I'm telling you, they'll love you. And I'd really, really love to have you there. Please? Just say yes."

"Okay, okay, fine. I'll come. But I'm holding you to that promise--I don't have to sit with the other girlfriends."

"Deal."

"And the jacket..." Harrie said, her voice trailing off as she reached for it. "It's cute, but I still feel weird wearing it."

"You'll look great," he gently pressed a kiss to her cheek. "And you'll be supporting me, which is what matters."

Harrie laughed, shaking her head as she pulled the jacket into her lap. "Okay, you win. But I'm still nervous."

Quinn smiled, resting his forehead against hers. "It's just me and you, Harrie. You've got nothing to be nervous about."

Harrie waited for Quinn in the players' lounge, her excitement bubbling over. She hadn't sat with the WAGs, instead glued to the game, cheering on from her own seat.

When Quinn finally emerged from the locker room, his hair damp from the shower, a tired grin on his face. She practically bounced over to him, throwing her arms around him.

"You killed it out there!"

"Thanks," he murmured against her hair. "I was hoping you'd think so."

She leaned back, looking up at him. "I more than think so. I know so."

"You want to head back to mine?" Quinn asked softly, his voice low in her ear.

Harrie nodded, her pulse quickening. She knew what he was asking--this wasn't just a casual invite. This was more.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Harrie followed him into the living room, watching as he set down his keys on the table. They were both buzzing with post-game adrenaline, their cheeks flushed.

"Want a drink?"

"I'm good," she said softly, stepping closer to him, the tension building.

Quinn closed the space between them, his hands resting on her hips as he leaned down to kiss her. No holding back this time. Her hands slid up his shoulders, pulling him closer. And before they knew it, they were stumbling towards his bedroom, their laughter trailing behind them.

Hours later, they lay tangled together, moonlight filtering through the blinds. Quinn's arm was draped over her waist, his fingers tracing patterns on his skin as they lay there, both still a little breathless.

"You okay?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder.

Harrie nodded, "More than okay."

"Good."

They didn't talk after that. The silence between them comfortable as they drifted off to sleep. Harrie felt the most at ease she had in Vancouver. Everything felt right.

Harrie was always an early bird. It didn't matter how late she stayed up or how tired she was, her body just knew when it was time to get up. So, when the first light of morning crept through the blinds, she was stirring, blinking awake as she slid out of bed.

Quinn was still fast asleep, his arm draped lazily over where she'd been lying moments before. She smiled softly as she watched him for a second, his face completely at peace. Last night had been perfect, and waking up next to him was even better.

But her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since before the game. She pulled on her thong and Quinn's dress shirt from the night before, the fabric brushing against her bare legs, and she padded her way to the kitchen.

Harrie set to work, rummaging through the fridge and cupboards to see what she could make for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast--nothing fancy, but it would do the trick. She hummed softly to herself as she cracked the eggs into a pan, feeling surprisingly at home.

She didn't hear Quinn wake up, didn't notice him until she felt the warmth of his hands slide around her waist, pulling her back gently against him. His breath was warm against her neck, and he pressed soft kisses to her neck, making her laugh as she turned to face him.

"Morning," Harrie said softly, smiling as he nuzzled into her neck.

"Mmm," Quinn murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. "Now this is a view I could get used to. Waking up to you cooking in my shirt. And... the breakfast doesn't hurt either."

She laughed, flipping the bacon in the pan. "I didn't know you were a vampire, Hughes. You left quite the marks on me last night."

Quinn grinned, his hands tightening around her waist as he glanced at her neck, seeing the bright purple and red marks from the night before. "Guess I got carried away," he teased, pressing a kiss to a spot he'd marked.

"Yeah, just a little," she teased, tilting her head to give him better access to her neck, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against hers.

They stood like that, wrapped in each other, the sizzling of the grease in the pan the only noise in the apartment. Everything felt easy.

"I could really get used to this," Quinn said softly, still peppering kiss and adding more marks to Harrie's neck.

"Yeah? You like waking up to breakfast?"

He shook his head, "No, I mean... waking up with you. Having you here. I want this to be a regular thing."

She turned in his arms to face him, her hands on his chest. "What're you saying?"

Quinn's hands slid up to her cheeks, cupping them. "I'm saying I want you to be my girlfriend, Harrie. Officially. I don't want to dance around it anymore."

She hadn't expected him to say it right then, but the truth was, she'd been feeling the same way. She wanted this, wanted him.

"Are you sure?"

"More than sure. I'm crazy about you, Harriet. I don't want anyone else."

Harrie smiled, leaning up to kiss him. That was her answer--a kiss filled with feelings that she couldn't put into words. They both smiled into it, their teeth clashing.

"Okay, Quintin. I'll be your girlfriend."

Quinn's smile was immediate, peppering her entire face in kisses as he picked her up and spun them in a circle. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"I think I do," she teased, leaning her forehead against his.

Breakfast was momentarily forgotten as they let the weight of the moment settle in. They were officially together. Finally.

It had been a fun night--one of those nights where things just went perfectly. They had gone out with some of Quinn's teammates, hit a few bars, and ended up back at Harrie's apartment, stumbling through the front door, laughing as they tried to stay upright.

Quinn wasn't used to being this drunk, especially during the season, but they had the next couple days off, and it had just... happened. Harrie had let loose too, and now they were both tipsy, giddy, and without filters.

They collapsed onto her bed, still laughing. Quinn's arm slung over her shoulders, her head resting on his chest. They'd been officially together for a few weeks and things were so easy. He liked that. He liked her.

"That was fun," Harrie giggled, fidgetting with the bottom of Quinn's shirt. "Your friends are hilarious."

"I told you they were cool," he replied. He was definitely more buzzed than usual, but he felt good. Especially with Harrie by his side.

"You know, it's crazy how different everything feels now," Harrie said, her words slower, more thoughtful. "Like, moving here, starting over, meeting you..."

Quinn looked down at her, sensing a deeper meaning behind her words. "What do you mean?"

"I guess I've just been thinking about... the past. About how much things have changed."

Quinn's stomach tensed slightly and it wasn't from the alcohol. He tried not to let it show, but he had a feeling he knew where this was going. Jack.

"Like what?" he asked, even though he was pretty sure he didn't want to know the answer.

"Like Jack. I haven't really talked about him have I?"

"No, not really."

Harrie let out a small laugh, but there was sadness behind it. "We were together for so long, you know? It's weird to think about how different things are now. He was my first real relationship. From high school to his rookie season... that's a lot of history."

Quinn nodded slowly. He knew they had a past--everyone did--but it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on. "Yeah, I remember."

"When we broke up," she continued, her voice quieter. "It wasn't even a bad breakup. It as mutual. The distance was just... too much. We were growing apart, and I think we both knew it deep down." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "But it's still weird, ya know? I don't think you ever really forget someone like that."

Quinn's mind was racing as he tried to stay calm. He didn't know how to respond. He had always pushed Jack out of his mind when it came to Harrie. She wasn't Jack's ex to him. She was just Harrie. But now, hearing her talk about Jack, it made things feel complicated.

"You ever talk to him now?"

Harrie shook her head. "No. Not really. We haven't talked much since the breakup."

There was a pause, and Quinn felt like he should be relieved--but something still gnawed at him.

"I saw him last year, though," Harrie added softly, her words slurring more as the alcohol kicked in. "When he came to visit Luke at Michigan. We ran into each other at a party."

His mind immediately jumping to the story Luke had mentioned about Harrie and Jack hooking up again that weekend. Was she going to tell him?

But she didn't.

"We talked for a while, caught up," she continued. "It wasn't weird or anything. I think we both realized we'd moved on, ya know? I was focused on graduating, and he was doing his thing in Jersey. We were just... different people by then."

He tried to make sense of what she was saying. She hadn't mentioned the hookup. Why hadn't she mentioned it? Did she not think it mattered? Or... did she still have feelings for Jack that she wasn't admitting to herself?

Harrie's eyes fluttered closed, the alcohol making her sleepy. "I'm glad I'm not stuck in the past," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I'm happy with you, Quinn. Really happy."

Did she still think about Jack?

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his mind in overdrive, though he tried to stay grounded. "I'm happy with you too, Harrie."

She'd fallen asleep, her breathing slow and steady. But Quinn couldn't sleep.

He just lay there staring at the ceiling. He knew he shouldn't have read into it too much--Harrie had been drunk, she'd opened up about her past, and she hadn't said anything that should make him worry.

But the missing piece of the story--the part about her hooking up with Jack last year--it sat in the back of his mind. Why hadn't she mentioned it? Had she forgotten it? Or was it something more?

Was he just overthinking this? Was Jack still in her head, even after all this time? And if he was, where did that leave Quinn?

She was happy with him. She'd said so.

But Quinn couldn't shake the feeling that something had been left unsaid, and as the hours ticked by, he found himself still wide awake, overthinking every word, every single detail of what she had told him.

Quinn's head was pounding. They'd gone too hard, but he didn't regret it--just hadn't anticipated having to be alone with his thoughts. For once, Harrie wasn't awake before him. Still curled up into his side, her breathing steady. The conversation they'd had about Jack had stuck with him, replaying in his mind all night.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he carefully sat up as to not disturb Harrie. But as if sensing him being awake, Harrie stirred, blinking groggily as she adjusted to the light. "Ugh, why is it so bright?"

"That's what happens after a night like we had. Too much fun, not enough water."

Harrie winced, "Yeah, I definitely didn't pace myself. But... there's something I wanted to talk to you about. Even if my head feels like it's about to explode."

"Sure, what's up?"

Harrie took a deep breath, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "I just... I think it was stupid of me to bring up Jack last night. I mean, we were hammered, and that conversation just kinda came out of nowhere."

Quinn stayed quiet, letting her speak. She was bringing it up first... that was a good sign.

"I don't want you to think I'm still hung up on him. Beause I'm not. I swear. I shouldn't have mentioned him, but I guess drunk-me was like nostalgic or some shit. It's just that... there's nothing to worry about, Quinn. You and Jack? Two completely different people.

"You don't have to explain it, Harrie. I get it."

But she just shook her head, as if she wasn't convinced he really did understand. "No, I do. I need to explain. Because I don't want you to think I like compare you to him or anything like that. I can't even compare you two. You're... not comparable? Jack is my past, but you're my present, Quinn."

He felt relieved, but there was still a small nagging thought--a reminder that she hadn't mentioned the part about hooking up with him. A small piece of the puzzle still missing, but he shoved it aside, not allowing himself to dwell on it.

"That means a lot to hear, Harriet. I won't lie... hearing about Jack last night caught me off guard. But I get it. It's your past and I'm not going to hold that against you."

"Exactly, that's all it is. The past. I want to be with you, Quinn. I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

He believed her.

"I want to be with you too. And I trust you, Harrie. I do."

Harrie's expression softened and she leaned in to give him a quick peck. "Good. Because you're the only person I'm thinking about these days."

Quinn kissed her again, pulling her closer, and everything felt right.

Harrie and Quinn were in the kitchen, moving in tandem as they prepared dinner. It had become another part of their routine--cooking together. They were a team and it had grown to be one of Quinn's favourite parts of their relatiobship.

Harrie was standing at the stove, stirring a pan of pasta sauce; while Quinn stood beside her, chopping vegetables. It was simple, but they were still doing it together.

"You're getting good at this," Harrie teased as Quinn finished chopping a bell pepper. "I remember when you didn't even know how to properly dice an onion."

Quinn grinned, "Well, I had a good teacher."

"It's about time you gave me some credit."

They continued to cook side by side, dancing to the music playing from Quinn's phone. But as they neared the end of dinner prep, the inevitable topic of the summer came up.

"So, what's the plan for the summer?" Harrie asked, pouring the sauce over the pasta as Quinn started setting the table. "You and Jack have anything big planned."

Quinn paused. Summer. He hadn't wanted to think about it too much, but now that it was only a couple weeks away, he couldn't avoid it. The lake house, being with Jack...

"Yeah, we'll probably spend a lot of time at the lake house. You know, with the guys--Luke, Trevor, Cole."

Harrie nodded, "That sounds fun. I'm sure you'll have a blast."

"What about you? What's your plan?"

Harrie shrugged, serving them both a plate of pasta before sitting across from him. "I'll probably stick around Vancouver for the most part. Work's getting busy, and I've got some projects lined up. But we'll see each other before the end of summer, right? I could always come visit."

"Yeah, I'd love that."

He hadn't brought it up yet, his worry about being around Jack for that long, about the guilt of keeping his relationship with Harrie a secret.

He couldn't hold it in any longer. "Are you... worried? About me being with Jack all summer?"

Harrie blinked, surprised, then shook her head. "Worried? No, not really. Should I be?"

Quinn shifted in his chair, "I just... I don't know. It's weird, right? Keeping this from him. It feels like... like I'm hiding something."

Harrie smiled, reaching across the table to take his hand. "Quinn, you don't have to worry. Jack's not going to find out. And even if he did... we're happy. That's all that matters."

"I know, I just... I don't like keeping this from him. I feel like I'm lying."

"You're not lying. You're just waiting for the right time to tell him. And like I've said before, it's not some huge betrayal. Jack's moved on. You and I are... us. Separate from all of that."

"You're way too calm about this," he teased.

Harrie rolled her eyes. "Because it's not a big deal! Quinn, you're overthinking this. Jack's not like going to magically figure it out."

"You don't know him like I do."

"True," she admitted, standing up, and leaning across the table to kiss him softly. "But I do know that everything is fine. We're fine. And you're going to have a great summer without stressing about this."

"Come here," Quinn murmured, pulling her onto his lap. "I don't know how you do it," he kissed the side of her neck. "You're way too good at calming me down."

"It's a talent," she teased, kissing him again. "Now stop worrying. You're going to spend the summer with your brothers and friends. Have fun, relax, and maybe let me visit."

"Deal."

It had been days since Quinn had arrived at the lake house, and he was surprised by how quickly his worries had disappeared. The moment he stepped on the dock and the sun hit his skin, it felt like all his tension melted away. Being with his brothers, Cole, Trevor, and their other friends had a way of making shit feel normal again.

There had been boat trips, barbecues, and long nights sitting around the fire laughing about stupid shit. Quinn had been so worried about keeping the secret from Jack, but he felt at east when he was actually there. Jack was his usual self and Quinn believed things wouldn't be as bad as he thought. Maybe they could get through the whole summer without any drama.

The boys were all sat around the table, playing cards. The atmosphere are light, everyone was teasing each other, throwing out sarcastic comments about bad hands and questionable moves.

"Dude, there's no way in hell you're beating that," Trevor said with a grin, throwing his cards down as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "I'm calling it. Game over."

"Please," Jack shot back, laying out his hand. "That's rookie stuff. I've got this."

Quinn chuckled leaning over to check Jack's hand. "Bullshit. He's got nothing."

The whole group laughed. This was exactly that Quinn had needed--a break. And for the first time in a while, he wasn't worried about what he was keeping from Jack.

That was, until his phone buzzed from the centre of the table. The guys had all decided no phones while they played, so they'd all been placed on the table.

He didn't think much of it, just another text. But then, Trevor, who was sitting closest to Quinn's phone, glanced at the screen that lit up again.

"Hey, Quinn, you've got a text from 'H <3.' Who's the luck lady?"

Quinn froze, his stomach dropping to his feet. He had forgotten when he'd left his phone on the table that Harrie's contact had a heart next to it. He tried his best to act nonchalant, but he definitely wasn't feeling it.

Before he could grab his phone, Jack snatched it from the pile on the table.

"Let's see what 'H <3' has to say," Jack teased, laughing as he unlocked his brother's phone. "Bet she's a total smokeshow."

Quinn's heart caught in his throat as he watched Jack read the message. His playful smile slowly falling, going from amused to confused to... Quinn wasn't really sure what.

"Quinn," Jack said slowly, his voice was controlled but there was a certain sharpness to it. "Who's 'H?' And why is she texting you that she can't wait to see you again and misses you already? And that she wishes she was back home in Michigan? You're dating a girl from Michigan?"

The room went silent. Everyone's eyes were on Quinn now, waiting for an answer. He swallowed hard, he felt like he couldn't keep lying. He couldn't dodge, he couldn't deflect. It felt too wrong. There was nothing he could do to make the guys drop this. He knew them better than that.

"It's... Harrie."

Jack blinked, "Harrie? Like... my ex-girlfriend, Harrie? Harriet?"

Quinn nodded slowly, unable to look Jack in the eye. "Yeah. That Harrie."

The guys shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances, but nobody said a word. Jack was just staring, trying to process what he'd just been told.

"How long?" his voice was tight.

"A few months. But it's not what you think, Jack. It just... happened. I didn't plan it. Neither of us did."

Jack's jaw tightened, and for a moment Quinn thought he might get up and storm out of the room. But he didn't. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a long, deep breath.

"You're telling me you've been with my ex for months? And you didn't think to mention it?" His tone was dangerously calm.

Quinn shook his head. "I wanted to, I swear. I just... didn't know how. I didn't want to hurt you."

Jack laughed, but there was no humour to it. "Well, mission accomplished, bro. You sure as hell kept it well hidden from me."

Trevor cleared his throat, "Maybe we should take a break from the game..."

"No. It's fine. I'm fine," Jack looked back at Quinn. "But I need to know one thing, Quinn--do you actually care about her? Or is this just some hookup?"

He cared about her more than anything, but saying that to Jack, in that moment, felt like betrayal. "I care about her, Jack. A lot."

"Then I guess you've made your choice."

Without another word, Jack stood up, walking out of the room and leaving Quinn sitting there, the guilt crushing him while the other guys just sat there in stunned silence.

After the initial reveal, things seemed surprisingly normal. Jack had acted pissed for a moment, but the next morning he brushed it all off, saying everything was fine. He didn't bring up Harrie again, didn't make any snide comments about Jack's relationship. If anything, he just acted like he didn't care.

Quinn wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe Jack was okay with it, that things were back to normal. But something in the back of his mind told him that he wasn't really over it at all.

They had been at the lake for a week, and like many other nights, they were drinking. The stars overhead, the lake shimmering under the moonlight, they all sat around the fire getting drunk.

Trevor and Cole were in the middle of some ridiculous debate about the best post-game meal, Luke was cracking up, and Jack... well Jack had been downing beers faster than anyone else.

"Alright, alright, let's settle this," Trevor slurred, holding up his beer. "Which is worse? Post-game hunger or post-game soreness?"

Cole laughed, almost spilling his drink. "Dude, hunger, for sure. You can't do shit when you're starving."

"Nah, soreness," Luke chimed in. "Can't even more when you're that sore."

The conversation continued, but Quinn noticed the shift in Jack. Usually he was jumping into conversations like that, giving his own stupid answer. But instead, he was just staring at the fire. Watching it flicker. And Quinn could tell that the alcohol had really hit him. Hard.

Finally, Jack broke the silence, cutting off the laughter around him. "You know what's worse? Being lied to."

The group went quiet, the obvious change in tone catching them all off guard. Trevor glanced at Jack, confused. "What are you talking about, dude?"

Jack laughed, sharp and bitter. "I'm talking about finding out your brother's been fucking your ex behind your back for months and didn't even bother to tell you."

It was clear that Jack had been holding onto it the entire time.

"Jack, come on," Quinn tried to defuse the situation. "We talked about this. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just... happened."

Jack snorted, locking eyes with his older brother. "Yeah? Just happened, huh? Like how it just happened that you didn't tell me for months? Like how it just happened that you thought you could keep this from me forever?"

"I didn't want to hurt you, Jack," Quinn repeated, trying to stay calm. "I just didn't know how to bring it up? I'm sorry, okay?"

Jack leaned forward, a dangerous smile spread across his face. "Oh, you're sorry? That's nice, Quinn. Really. But let me ask you this--did she ever tell you about the last time we saw each other?"

Quinn knew exactly where this was going. Although he pretended he didn't. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Jack said, his tone mocking, his words slurring together. "Of course she didn't. Well, let me fill you in, bro. Last time we saw each other? We fucked. And let me tell you," he laughed. "She fucking loved it."

The words hit Quinn like a punch to the face, but Jack wasn't done.

"You think you're the only one she cares about, huh?" His voice was growing louder, angrier. "You really think she's over me? Please. She'll never get over me. You're gonna have to accept the fact that every time she's with, every time she's in your bed, she's thinking of me."

Luke looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back. Just staring wide-eyed like Trevor and Cole.

Quinn's hands gripped the arms of his chair. He knew about the hookup--or at least, he knew it supposedly happened. But hearing Jack say it out loud, hearing the venom in his voice, made it feel a thousand times worse.

"Jack, you're drunk," Quinn shook his head. "You don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying! I'm saying that no matter how much you think you care about her, she's never gonna get over me. And if you think she's not comparing you to me every time you're with her, you're a fucking idiot."

For a moment, Quinn thought about getting up, grabbing Jack by the collar and forcing him to stop talking. But instead he sat there, staring at his brother, feeling the weight of every word sink deeper into his skin.

"Jack, that's enough," Luke finally spoke up. "You're drunk, let's go to bed."

Jack swayed slightly on his feet. "Whatever. You all have fun playing hosue with Quinn and his new 'girlriend.' Just don't be surprised when she comes running back to me."

Quinn practically stumbled up the stairs, rushing to his room. Each one of Jack's words hit him like a sledgehammer.

"She'll never get over me."

He sank onto the edge of his bed, closing his door. His phone was clutched tightly in his hand, his head spinning. He needed to talk to her. He needed answers.

His fingers moved on autopiloet, dialing Harrie's number before he could stop himself. The phone only rang twice before she picked up.

"Hey, you!" Her voice was light and teasing. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight. How's lake life treating you?"

"Harrie..."

"What's up? Did you miss me already? Because I'm warning you, it's gonna be hard to beat this pasta I made for dinner. You'll be jealous."

But Quinn wasn't laughing.

"Jack knows," his voice low, words coming out jumbled. "About us. He found out. The other night."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and he could hear Harrie shift. "Oh... okay. What happened? Did he freak out?"

"No," Quinn muttered, feeling the tension in his shoulders tighten. "Not at first. He acted like it was no big deal. But then we got drunk tonight, and he just... he lost it, Harrie."

"Quinn..." her tone was calming. "What exactly did he say?"

"He told me you two hooked up. Last time he saw you. He said you 'fucking loved it.'" The bitterness in his tone was palpable, and the words felt like poison on his tongue. "He said you'd never get over him, Harrie. That I'd have to accept that every time you're with me, you're imagining him."

Silence. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost disbelieving. "He said that to you?"

He nodded even thought she couldn't see him. "Yeah. He said that. And now I just..." he trailed off, his voice breaking slightly. "I thought you were over him. You told me you were over him."

"I am over him," Harrie said firmly. She sounded more frustrated, more concerned. "Quinn, that hookup that he's talking about? Happened almost two years ago. It'll be two years in August. Long before I knew you the way I do now. Meant nothing. It was closure. Jack's just... being an ass. He's drunk and trying to get under your skin."

"But why didn't you tell me about it, Harrie? You never mentioned it. And now, after hearing Jack say that, I--" He paused, swallowing harshly. "I don't know what to think. I don't know what's real anymore."

There was a sigh from Harrie, the kind she let out when she was trying to remain calm, trying to find the right words. "Quinn, I didn't tell you because it didn't matter. I didn't want to bring it up because I'm not that person anymore. And I don't think Jack is either. I didn't want you to think I still had feelings for him. Because I don't. I didn't then, and I don't now."

Quinn ran a hand down his face. "But Jack... he made it sound like you're not over him. Like you'll never be over him. How am I supposed to just ignore that?"

"You know that's not true, right? Quinn, I am over him. I'm with you because you're the one that I want. Jack is a part of my past, but you... you're my now, Quinn."

She hestiated when he didn't respond, but decided to keep talking. "Quinn, I love you. I didn't know when or how to tell you, but I do. I love you. And I don't want you to doubt that because of something Jack said just to hurt you."

Quinn froze. She loved him? She'd never said that before. He wanted to let those words wash away everything Jack had said.

But he couldn't.

"Harrie..." he started, his voice strained. "I--"

He couldn't say it back. He couldn't find the words. "I need some time to think."

"Okay... I understand. We can talk more later, Quinn. Just... please know that I'm here. I love you."

"I'll talk to you later," he avoided the words she needed to hear. Now all he could do was sit with his doubts, torn between his love for Harrie and the guilt he felt towards his brother.

Harrie hadn't slept. She felt guilty for not telling Quinn about her hookup with Jack. And she couldn't get over the hurt she felt when Quinn hadn't said that he loved her back. But more than that she was angry. Angry at herself, at the situation, but mostly angry at Jack.

Jack needed to hear the truth, not just from Quinn... from her. If he thought he could stir up trouble just because of a hook-up nearly two years ago, he was sorely mistaken.

Without hesitation, she called Jack. For the first time in years.

"Harrie?" Jack was groggy with sleep and surprise. "What's up?"

Harrie didn't waste time on plesantries. "We need to talk. Now."

"Okay... what's this about?"

Harrie clenched her jaw, feeling the anger bubble inside her. "It's about you acting like a complete asshole to your brother last night. Quinn told me what you said, Jack."

Jack sighed, clearly trying to brush it off. "Look, I was drunk, alright? I didn't mean half the shit I said."

"But you did say it," Harrie snapped. "You're using that fucking hookup between us like it still means something. It doesn't, Jack. It hasn't for a long time."

Jack was quiet for a second, his tone was more defensive after. "It meant something to me, Harrie. We were together for years. You don't just forget that."

"I'm not saying you have to forget it, Jack. I'm saying you need to stop letting it affect you like this. I didn't want Quinn to find out that way. Hell, I didn't want him to find out at all because it didn't matter. That night was about closure for both of us. You know that."

"You don't get it. It's not just about that fucking night. It's about you and Quinn. It's weird, Harrie. You're my ex. He's my brother."

"Of course, it's weird!" Harrie shot back. "I get that, Jack. But you need to grow up. I didn't fall for Quinn to spite you! It just happened. We're happy, and I'm not going to apologize for that."

"Happy?" Jack scoffed. "He didn't look too happy last night when I told him what happened. You can't just erase the past, Harriet. You're always gonna be my ex, and he's always gonna know that."

Harrie wasn't backing down. "Yes, I'm your ex, Jack. But I'm Quinn's girlfriend now. I love him. And if you can't accept that--if you can't get over this--then it's going to tear your family apart. Is that what you want? For me to come between you and your brother?"

Silence.

"Because it that's really what it's going to do, I'll end things with Quinn. I don't want to hurt him, Jack. I am not about to be the reason you guys can't be civil. I'll walk away before it gets any worse. I care about him too much to tear you two apart."

"You'd end things with him? Just like that?"

"If I had to," she admitted, though her heart ached at the thought. "But I don't want to. I love him. I'm not going to apologize for that, and I'm not going to pretend like you're some ghost hanging over our relationship. You need to move on. I have."

Jack's voice softened. "I don't want you to end things with Quinn, Harriet. I don't. I guess... I just, I didn't realize how much it would mess with my head, picturing you with him."

"It's not about us anymore, Jack. You and I? We're in the past. Not coming back."

"Yeah, you're right. I just... I was pissed. I don't want you to tear my family apart either."

"Good. Then let this go. You have to, for Quinn's sake. He deserves better than this."

"I'll try, Harrie. I will. I didn't mean to blow up on him like that. I was... being really fucking stupid. I'll talk to him, okay?"

Harrie sighed in relief. "Good. Thank you, Jack."

Jack chuckled softly despite the awkwardness. "Guess I owe you one, huh?"

"You owe Quinn one," she corrected. "Just... be his brother. That's all he needs."

"Yeah, I'll work on that."

Quinn was sitting on the dock. He'd been there for a while, just trying to process all the thoughts going through his head. Things were messy, and though he hadn't slept well, he hoped the new day would bring some clarity.

He knew Jack. He knew his brother wasn't really angry about Harrie... at least not deep down. Jack was just being Jack. Too prideful to admit when something hurt him.

He glanced back when he heard footsteps. Jack was walking toward him, hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt, looking more sober and less angry than the night before.

"Hey."

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I talked to Harrie this morning. She kinda gave me a reality check."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jack said, kicking at the end of the dock with his shoe. "She told me I need to grow up. And... she's right. I was an asshole last night. I shouldn't have said what I said." He paused, glancing at Quinn. "I'm sorry, man. I was pissed and drunk, but that doesn't make it okay. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."

Quinn took a deep breath. He knew this apology was coming, but hearing it felt nice.

"I get it, Jack. It's weird. You're my brother, and she's your ex. I didn't want it to happen like this, but... I care about her. I really do."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I know. I get it. I just... I didn't expect it, ya know? You and her. It threw me off." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. "But it's not like I'm still hung up on her or anything. I guess I just didn't handle the news well."

"You? Not handling something well? Shocker."

"Shut up," Jack laughed.

"I don't want this to come between us," Quinn said. "We're brothers. I don't care how complicated this is, I'm not losing you over it."

Jack shook his head. "You won't, man. I'm not that petty. And... I'm sorry again. I don't want you to feel like I'm some weird shadow hanging over your relationship. You deserve to be happy, and if Harriet makes you happy, then... I'm cool with it."

"Thanks, Jack. Means a lot."

Jack grinned, holding out his arms. "Come on, bring it in. Let's get this awkward shit outta the way."

Quinn laughed, getting up to pull Jack into a quick bro-hug. When they pulled back Jack gave Quinn a playful shove. "You know, you're lucky I didn't kick your ass last night. You had it coming."

Quinn snorted. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself."

Trevor, Jack, Cole, Luke, and Quinn were sprawled out on the couches, watching some dumb movie, half paying attention. The atmposphere was easy again, like then tension of the previous night had never happened.

"So," Trevor smirked. "Now that we're all sobber, I gotta ask--Qball, how the hell did you pull Harrie?"

Quinn blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Dude, she's like the hottest girl ever. You're a lucky man, Quinn. Seriously. I thought she was wayyyyyy out of your league."

The group erupted into laughter.

"Thanks, man. Real confidence boost," Quinn muttered, shaking his head.

"No, seriously," Trevor continued. "I've met a lot of girls, but Harrie? Total rocket. If you ever mess it up, I'm just saying..." He winked.

"Don't even think about it," Jack cut in with a mock glare. "Harrie's off-limits. For all of you. Except Q... I guess."

Trevor raised his beer, grinning. "Alright, here's to Quinn! The lucky bastard."

Harrie was at her desk, scrolling through her work emails, trying to focus on her job. But her mind kept drifting back to Quinn and Jack. It was a relief to clear the air with Jack, but she was still worried about Quinn's reaction to everything.

Her phone buzzed, pulling all her attention away from her work.

Huggy <3: Check your email.

What was he up to? She opened her personal email, her heart skipping a beat when she saw an email for a flight confirmation. She clicked on it, scanning the details.

Quinn had bought her a ticket to Michigan.

She immediately called him. "Quinn! You got me a plane ticket?"

Quinn chuckled on the other end. "Yeah. I figured you should be here for the last few days of the trip. Besides, I miss you."

"But... what about Jack? I don't want to make things weird. Er, weirder. What if he's not okay with me being there?"

"Don't worry about Jack. I already talked to him. It's all good. He's cool with it. Actually, I think he wants you to come."

Harrie blinked, surprised. "Wh- really?"

"Really. So pack your bags, baby. You've got a flight to catch tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll see you soon," she squealed.

"I can't wait."

Harrie rushed toward Quinn, but before she could say anything, he pulled her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her waist as he picked her up and spun her around, like he often did at home.

"You made it," he kissed her temple.

"Of course I did! You're not getting rid of me that easily."

A few hours later, they arrived at the dock where the rest of the guys were hanging out. Jack spotted them first, his eyes flickering to Harrie, and for a second his expression was unreadable. The he smiled, a genuine smile, and nodded toward them.

"Hey Harrie," he waved them over. "Glad you could make it."

She smiled back. "Thanks. Good to see you too, Jack."

They exchanged a quick hug, and when Harrie glanced up at Quinn, he was smiling brightly. No tension, no awkwardness. Jack had come to terms with it, and they could all move forward.

Jack watched Harrie and Quinn move around the house, spending time together, and laughing like they were in their own little world. It wasn't forced, but it also wasn't anything like the dynamic she and Jack had had once upon a time. They were different people now. They way Quinn looked at her--like she was the only person in the room--was something that Jack had never really felt when he and Harrie had been together.

It him then that he had just been a kid when he and Harrie dated. Sure, they'd had something good, but it was nothing like that. Harrie and Quinn were in love, and it was clear as day. And he wasn't going to stand in the way of that.

"You really are a lucky bastard," Jack clapped Quinn on the back. "But you already knew that, huh?"

Quinn laughed, his arm still slung over Harrie's shoulders. "Yeah, I know."

"For real though. I'm happy for you guys. Really, I mean it."

Harrie smiled softly, nodding in appreciation. "Thanks, Jack. Means a lot."

Later that night, Harrie and Quinn were curled up in bed together, the cool breeze from the lake drifting through the cracked window. They'd been talking for hours, just enjoying each other's company.

Harrie was lying with her head on Quinn's chest, listening to his heartbeat while he absentmindedly ran his hand through her hair.

"You know," she whispered, "this trip was... perfect. I didn't think it would be. But it was. You, me, Jack--everything is like falling into place."

"I'm glad you're here."

They fell silent again. Quinn had been thinking about it ever since she'd said it on the phone... that she loved him. He hadn't been able to say it back then, but, lying there with her, knowing what they'd had to deal with, there was no doubt left in his mind.

"Harrie."

She lifted her head, resting her chin on his chest, her eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath. "I love you."

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, but slowly a smile broke across her face. "You do?"

Quinn nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah. I do. I love you."

Harrie leaned in, kissing him softly, her lips warm against his. "I love you too," she whispered.

They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other's arms, the weight of the world finally being lifted from their shoulders, knowing that they were exactly where they were meant to be.

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

Text

Breaking Point

Summary: Spencer has a partner, his partner is not necessarily a great person. You really just want to connect with him, he is your roommate, Penelope's, friend after all. But Spencer just does not seem to like you, can you change that?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst

Warnings/Includes: Spencer has a partner, implied bisexual Spencer, non-graphic cheating, emotionally distant partner, controlling partner, Spencer is sassy and kind of mean, mention of Spencer's drug problem, insecurities

Word count: 14.6k

a/n: i know i can treat you better than they cannnnn -- happy one day early post !!!!

main masterlist part two

The evening was typical for you—a night out with the team at one of their usual spots, a lively bar that served as the backdrop for many of their post-case celebrations. You were perched on a high stool at the bar, sipping on a cocktail Penelope, your roommate, had insisted you try, something bright and fruity with just the right amount of sweetness. The music was loud enough to make conversation a bit challenging, but not so much that it drowned everyone out.

You leaned back slightly, your eyes casually scanning the room. Derek was engaged in a playful argument with JJ about some obscure movie reference, and Rossi was deep in conversation with Hotch. Everyone seemed relaxed, their faces lit with the glow of well-deserved downtime.

But then, something caught your eye—a flash of movement at the other end of the bar. Spencer, the quiet and reserved member of the team who had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, was engaged in what looked like a rather intense conversation with someone you didn’t recognize. The contrast between Spencer’s usual timid demeanor and the animated gestures he was making now piqued your curiosity.

You leaned closer to Penelope, who was sitting beside you, tapping away on her phone as usual, her fingers a blur of activity. "Who’s that?" you asked, nodding toward Spencer and the unknown person.

Penelope glanced up from her screen, following your gaze, and immediately sighed, rolling her eyes in a way that suggested this was a scene she had witnessed more times than she cared to count. "That’s Eli," she said, the name laced with a tone that was hard to miss. "Spencer’s partner."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Spencer has a partner?" The revelation blew your mind. You'd known the team for over a year, seen and been seen in all sorts of situations—some more embarrassing than others—and not once had Spencer ever mentioned having a partner. It was like discovering a hidden chapter in a book you thought you knew well.

Penelope gave you a knowing look, her lips pressing together as if she were debating whether or not to continue. You nudged her lightly, urging her on. "What is it? You can’t just leave me hanging."

She sighed again, this time more softly, and leaned in closer so that only you could hear. "It just doesn’t seem like they’re very happy together, you know? They always seem to be arguing about something or other. I don't think I’ve ever seen them have a normal conversation."

You turned your attention back to Spencer and Eli, who were still deep in conversation—if you could even call it that. From where you were sitting, it looked more like Eli was doing most of the talking, their tone sharp, while Spencer listened, his face a mask of confusion and quiet frustration.

"Why does he stay with them if they’re so unhappy?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

Penelope shrugged, taking a sip of her drink before responding. "Spencer's complicated, you know? I think part of him feels…responsible or something. Like he has to make it work, even if it’s not working."

You nodded, still watching the exchange between Spencer and Eli, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Part of you was shocked that Spencer, someone who always seemed so put-together, was caught up in a relationship that didn’t seem to bring him any joy. And another part of you, the part that had always felt a bit of an inexplicable attachment to him, felt a pang of something else—something almost like protectiveness.

"I never would’ve guessed," you murmured, more to yourself than to Penelope.

"Yeah, well," Penelope replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "There’s a lot about Spencer that’s easy to miss if you’re not looking closely."

As the night wore on, you couldn't help but keep glancing in Spencer's direction, wondering what else you might have missed about him over the past year. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how little you actually knew about the man who had somehow managed to become both a puzzle and an enigma in your life.

—

You’re not sure what brought on this new damn near obsession with Spencer Reid, but ever since you found out about him having a partner, you’ve been thinking about him differently. It was as if knowing he was capable of being in a relationship made you want to be the one who showed him what a healthy one looks like. The thought had wormed its way into your mind and now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him in your daily life.

Whether you were at work, at home, or out with friends, your thoughts always seemed to drift back to Spencer—his quiet demeanor, the way he fiddled with his hands when he was nervous, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about. You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to be the one who made him smile, the one who could take away the stress you’d seen him carry.

Weeks passed, and you tried to push these thoughts to the back of your mind, but they always crept back in. So when Penelope proposed a night at Rossi’s, you jumped at the opportunity, hoping that maybe being around him might help you understand why you were feeling this way.

When you arrived at Rossi’s, the place was buzzing with laughter and conversation. Penelope was already engaged in a lively discussion with Derek and JJ, and Rossi was busy pouring drinks for everyone. As you scanned the room, your eyes landed on Spencer, standing off to the side, a drink in hand. He was alone—no Eli in sight.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you knew it, you were making your way over to him, driven by an urge to finally talk to him alone. Maybe this was your chance to get to know him better, to bridge the gap that had always seemed to exist between you two.

“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted, nudging your elbow gently against his as you walked up next to him.

“Oh, hi, Y/N,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of confusion as he looked at you. It was as if he wasn’t quite sure why you had come over.

“How are you?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your heart was beating a little faster than you’d like to admit.

“Fine, thanks,” he nodded, his gaze drifting away from you almost immediately. “And you?”

“I’m great, thank you!” you answered with a smile, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to hang in the air between you.

But Spencer didn’t reply. Instead, he stood there, clearly feeling awkward, his eyes focused on some distant point in the room. You bit your lip, trying to think of something else to say, something that might spark a real conversation.

“So…I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” you ventured, letting out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to lighten the mood.

At that, Spencer stiffened. He finally turned to look at you, his expression hardening in a way that caught you off guard. “Well, you don’t really know me, do you?” he said, his tone colder than you’d ever heard it before.

“What?” you asked, taken aback by his sudden shift in demeanor. The sharpness in his voice sent a jolt through you, making you feel like you’d stepped onto thin ice without realizing it.

But he didn’t stop there. “You don’t know me at all, Y/N,” he continued, his voice carrying an edge of bitterness as he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why would you be privy to intimate details of my life?”

The words hit you like a slap in the face, and you stood there, stunned and at a loss for words. “Oh—I don’t know, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your confidence crumbling as you tried to process what had just happened. You had expected many things from this conversation, but this level of hostility wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, okay,” Spencer muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips as he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, violently confused.

You watched him retreat, your mind racing to understand what had just happened. The warmth and excitement you had felt moments ago were now replaced by a cold, sinking feeling in your chest. What had you done wrong? Why had he reacted that way?

As you stood there, the lively chatter and laughter of the party continued around you, but it all felt distant, muffled. All you could think about was Spencer’s harsh words, and the way he had looked at you—like you were a stranger, like you had crossed a line you didn’t even know existed.

“Hey mama, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You good?” Derek’s deep, familiar voice cut through the fog of your thoughts, grounding you back in the present.

You blinked a few times, forcing a smile onto your face as you turned to face Derek. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, doing your best to sound convincing. “It’s good to see you!”

Derek didn’t seem entirely convinced, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied you, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled back, his usual warmth returning as he pulled you into a quick hug. “Good to see you too, girl. Let’s get you back in the spirit of the night, huh?”

You nodded, grateful for his easy going nature as you allowed yourself to be swept back into the flow of the evening. Derek had a way of making everything feel a little lighter, and as the two of you rejoined the group, you found yourself easing back into the laughter and conversation around you. It wasn’t hard to get caught up in the fun, especially with Penelope’s infectious energy and Rossi’s endless supply of stories.

But no matter how much you tried to focus on the good vibes of the night, there was a nagging thought at the back of your mind—a quiet, persistent echo of your brief and bewildering interaction with Spencer. You couldn’t shake the image of his face, the sudden hardness in his eyes, and the way his tone had shifted so drastically from the Spencer you thought you knew.

You stole a glance across the room, where Spencer was now engaged in a conversation with JJ, his expression relaxed, his laughter genuine. It was as if nothing had happened at all, as if your exchange just moments earlier hadn’t rattled you to your core.

The contrast was jarring, and it left you feeling even more confused. How could he seem so unaffected, so nonchalant, after what had just transpired? It was like the sweet, shy man you’d come to know had been ripped away in an instant, replaced by someone who was colder, more distant, and completely unreadable.

You couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong, why such an innocent question had triggered such a reaction from him. It was just one question—one that, in hindsight, seemed harmless. And yet, his response had been anything but.

“Hey, earth to Y/N,” Derek’s voice snapped you back again, this time with a playful nudge. “Where’d you go just now? I was asking if you wanted another drink.”

You blinked, realizing you had zoned out again. “Oh, sorry! Yeah, I could use another one,” you said, offering him another smile. This time, you meant it. Maybe another drink would help you forget the odd tension for a little while, help you push Spencer out of your mind.

—

That night, as the evening began to wind down, you noticed Spencer slipping out quietly after saying his goodbyes to everyone but you. A pang of something—hurt, maybe?—struck you as you watched him head toward the front door, his figure receding into the night. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just the lingering awkwardness from earlier, nothing more.

But then you noticed something out of place—Spencer had left his satchel behind, the one he always carried with him, filled with books, notes, and who knows what else. Without thinking, you grabbed it and rushed out the door after him, your heart pounding with adrenaline and the hope of another chance to talk.

“Spencer! Wait!” you called out, your voice echoing in the cool night air as you ran down the driveway, the gravel crunching under your feet.

Spencer, already halfway into the passenger seat of the car, paused at the sound of your voice. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression immediately shifting to one of mild annoyance when he realized it was you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he was hoping it would be anyone else but you.

“You left your bag,” you panted, holding it up as you caught up to him.

“Oh,” he replied, his tone flat, his eyes glancing at the bag as if it was the last thing on his mind. “Thanks,” Spencer added, his voice barely above a mumble as he took the satchel from your hands.

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the awkward tension hanging between you. But just as you were about to wish him a good night, your eyes shifted to the driver’s seat where Eli was sitting, glaring at you with a cold, suspicious gaze that sent a shiver down your spine. The intensity of their stare made you falter, your words catching in your throat.

“Have a good ni—” you started, but before you could finish, Eli’s hand jerked the car into gear, and the tires screeched against the pavement as they peeled out of the driveway. The door barely had time to close behind Spencer before they were speeding off into the night.

You stood there, breathless and confused, watching the taillights disappear down the road. The cold night air seemed to wrap around you, a stark contrast to the warmth that had filled Rossi’s home just minutes ago.

You couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that had settled deep in your chest. The way Spencer had looked at you, the way Eli had glared, the way the car had sped off as if they couldn’t wait to leave you behind—it all left you feeling more out of sorts than ever.

—

The next time you saw Spencer, it was completely by accident. You were excitedly attending the grand opening of a vintage bookstore that had been on your calendar for months. The store was rumored to have an original copy of Pride and Prejudice, and you were determined to get your hands on it. As you approached the entrance, ready to join the line that had already started forming, a tall, familiar figure caught your eye.

Spencer was standing off to the side, hunched in on himself as he spoke into his phone. His posture was tense, and his voice, though hushed, carried a tone of desperation and frustration that made you slow your steps.

“—you said you would be here! You know how important this is to me…” His voice wavered, and he paused, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Your heart ached as you watched him, his expression filled with hurt and disappointment. His next words were spoken with an urgency that tugged at something deep inside you.

“I went to your comicon, waited all night in line to get a video game for you, and I did that…thing! This morning, remember?”

You couldn’t hear what Eli was saying, but from the look on Spencer’s face, it was clear that whatever it was, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. You could hear the strain in his voice, the way it shook as he tried to hold back his emotions.

“Eli,” Spencer sighed, the sound so full of defeat that it nearly broke your heart. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I never ask you to do anything…it does matter! It’s not stupid…okay. Yeah. Bye. Love you too.”

As he ended the call, you watched as he put his phone in his pocket, his shoulders slumping as he sniffled, clearly trying to compose himself. The vulnerability in his posture made you want to reach out, to comfort him, to tell him that he deserved so much better than this.

But before he could see you, you quickly made your way past him and into the line, your heart racing. You didn’t want to embarrass him by acknowledging what you had overheard. It felt too private, too raw, and you knew that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want someone to witness such a moment of weakness.

Little did you know that Spencer had seen you walk by, his heart sinking further as he realized you might have heard his conversation. The idea of you knowing how he couldn’t even get his partner to come to a bookstore—a place that meant so much to him—was mortifying. It was bad enough that Eli had chosen to watch football with their friends instead of joining him, but the thought of you knowing about it only added to his embarrassment.

Spencer fell into line a few people behind you, trying to shake off the lingering feelings of rejection. He wished that the rift between you two didn’t exist, especially on a day like today. The thought of walking through the store with someone, discussing books, sharing little discoveries, was something that would have brought him immense joy. But now, with the awkwardness hanging between you like a thick fog, he knew it wasn’t possible.

As the line moved forward, you tried to focus on the excitement of the bookstore’s opening, but you couldn’t help but steal glances back at Spencer. He looked so alone, so isolated, and it made your chest tighten with an emotion you didn’t quite want to name. The bookstore should have been a place of happiness for him, but all you could see was the shadow of his disappointment.

You had managed to find the original Pride and Prejudice that you wanted, and your heart felt so full it was almost overwhelming. This book meant the world to you, bringing back memories of your grandmother reading it to you when you were sick as a child. The familiar scent of old pages and the sight of the worn, delicate cover brought a lump to your throat, but it was the good kind, the kind of feeling that reminded you of warmth and love.

As you clutched the book to your chest, savoring the moment, a voice came from behind you, pulling you out of your reverie. “Great choice, I can’t believe they have an original.”

You turned, surprised, to see a very attractive stranger standing there. They had strikingly beautiful eyes that seemed to draw you in, making you momentarily forget where you were. “Yeah, it’s my favorite,” you replied with a bright smile. “I’m so glad I was able to get it.”

“Shane,” they offered, extending their hand with an easy, confident smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You took their hand, feeling a pleasant warmth from the gesture. “Y/N,” you said, your smile widening. “Nice to meet you too.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. You and Shane chatted about literature, the excitement of the new bookstore, and your mutual love for classic novels. Their enthusiasm for books mirrored your own, and you found yourself enjoying the banter, feeling a sense of connection with this person you’d just met.

What you didn’t realize was that Spencer was watching from afar, his heart twisting in knots as he observed how easily you interacted with new people. It was something he envied—how naturally you navigated social situations, how the friendly vibes seemed to radiate off you in waves. Anyone could see how nice you were, how approachable, and it only made him more aware of the tension that had built up between the two of you.

He wished things could have gotten off to a better start between you. But every time he thought about trying to fix things, that cold interaction from the other night lingered in his mind, making him think it was too late. And now, seeing you so effortlessly connect with someone else, someone who had already made you smile, only deepened the pang of jealousy in his chest.

As you made your way to the register, Shane walked with you, continuing the conversation. Just before you reached the counter, Shane asked, “Hey, would it be okay if I got your number? I’d love to keep talking about books and maybe grab a coffee sometime.”

You smiled, feeling flattered by the request. “Sure, I’d like that.” You exchanged numbers, feeling a small flutter of excitement as you parted ways with Shane.

Meanwhile, Spencer watched from a distance, the jealousy tightening its grip. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the effortless way in which you interacted with others, or if it was the fact that someone else had gotten your number so easily—something he knew he could never have done. Either way, the feeling gnawed at him, making him feel even more isolated than before.

When it was your turn to pay, you glanced back and noticed Spencer standing behind you in line. His eyes were downcast, his expression unreadable, but you remembered how upset he had been earlier. Knowing he was having a bad day and sensing the awkward vibes that had developed between the two of you, you decided to do something small to brighten his day.

Leaning in to the cashier, you whispered, “Could you estimate how much his books would cost?”

The cashier smiled and nodded, quickly scanning the stack of books in Spencer’s hands with their eyes. They told you the amount, and you quietly pulled out your bills, paying for Spencer’s purchases along with your own. Without saying a word to him, you took your bag and left the store, hoping that this small act of kindness might bring a bit of light into his day.

As Spencer approached the counter, still lost in his thoughts, the cashier smiled warmly at him. “You’re all set, sir. The woman in front of you already paid for your books.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily stunned. “She… she did what?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

The cashier nodded, still smiling. “She paid for everything. Said she hoped you’d have a good day.”

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, holding the bag of books as if it were the most precious thing in the world. His mind raced, trying to make sense of why you would do something so kind for him when he had been nothing but cold to you since you met. The memory of your most recent awkward exchange at Rossi’s house replayed in his head, and guilt washed over him like a tidal wave.

Why would you do such a kind thing? He didn’t deserve it, not after the way he had treated you. And yet, you had done it anyway, without a word, without expecting anything in return.

As Spencer left the store, the bag of books clutched in his hand, he was overwhelmed by a mix of gratitude, guilt, and a growing sense of something missing. He’d had doubts about his relationship with Eli before, but he had always convinced himself that this was just how relationships were—messy and full of compromises.

But after seeing your kindness and how effortlessly you connected with others, Spencer couldn’t help but wonder if he was missing out on something better. For the first time, he questioned whether he deserved more than what he had settled for with Eli. Your simple act of paying for his books had cracked open a door in his mind, making him realize that maybe there was a different, happier path he could take—one that might even include someone like you.

—

When Spencer walked into the bullpen that Monday, he immediately noticed Penelope animatedly talking with Derek and Emily. The moment she heard someone enter, her eyes lit up as she saw him.

“Reid!” she exclaimed with her usual enthusiasm.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he walked over to her instead of heading straight to his desk. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone light and amused.

“Look!” Penelope gushed, thrusting a book into his hands with excitement.

Spencer glanced down, recognizing the book instantly—it was a first edition of a title he knew Penelope loved. His eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow! Where did you find this?” he asked, marveling at the rare find.

Penelope sighed happily, clutching her hands to her heart. “Y/N got it for me! I couldn’t make it to the new bookstore, and she knew how sad I was, so she bought this to cheer me up!”

Spencer processed this new piece of information, feeling a warmth spread through him. Of course you did, he thought to himself, you’re the nicest person ever. “That’s… that’s really great, Garcia,” he said with a sincere smile.

“Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Penelope beamed, taking the book back and staring at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Derek chuckled, adding, “Yeah, mama. That girl is a gem. I’m glad someone is treating you good when I’m not around.”

Spencer nodded, his mind lingering on you. It was just another reminder of the kind of person you were, and it made him think even more about what he might be missing out on.

"Something brewing in that big brain?" Emily teased, noticing Spencer had gone quiet, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"Hmm?" Spencer responded, looking up at her, momentarily pulled from his reverie.

"Are you okay, Reid?" she tried again, her voice tinged with concern.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... haven't had my coffee yet," he replied, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

Derek chuckled, sensing Spencer's discomfort. "Rossi just made a new pot. I'll go grab a cup with you, pretty boy."

Spencer nodded gratefully as the two men headed to the breakroom, which was mostly empty, save for a few agents from other departments who were too engrossed in their own conversations to pay them any mind.

"Do anything fun this weekend?" Derek asked casually as he started making his coffee, glancing over at Spencer with a curious look.

Spencer allowed himself a small smile as he replied, "Yeah, I went to that new bookstore. They had their grand opening."

Derek thought for a moment, then asked, "Did you see Y/N there?"

Spencer's hand froze mid-stir, his expression faltering. "Oh, uh, no," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly, clearly caught off guard by the question.

Derek narrowed his eyes, not missing the way Spencer suddenly seemed on edge. "Alright, spit it out, kid," he pressed, sensing there was more to the story.

"Spit what out?" Spencer sassed, attempting to deflect, but his tone lacked conviction.

Derek just sighed, giving him a look that said, Don't bullshit me. "I've noticed you don't necessarily... enjoy Y/N's company. Did you run into her? Was it weird?"

Spencer let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it from Derek. "Yeah, I saw her," he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But it wasn't weird. I mean, not exactly. It’s just... complicated."

Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting for Spencer to continue. "Complicated how?"

Spencer hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I think she might have overheard me on the phone with Eli... They were supposed to come with me to the bookstore, but they didn’t. I was upset," Spencer shrugged, trying to downplay the hurt in his voice.

Derek softened his gaze, sensing the vulnerability in Spencer’s words. "I’m sorry, man. Did they give a good reason?"

Spencer shrugged again, his eyes welling up as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. "Um, they said they needed to watch the football game. Something to do with the fantasy league they’re in."

Derek rolled his eyes, his frustration evident. "That is not a good reason. Eli should have known this was important to you."

Spencer cleared his throat, staring intently at his coffee, willing the tears not to fall. "They knew... I don’t know if they cared."

"Reid..." Derek began, his voice gentle, but Spencer quickly waved his hand, cutting him off.

"No, no. It’s fine—we talked about it," Spencer said, his voice wavering but firm, clearly wanting to move past the topic.

Seeing that Spencer didn’t want to delve deeper into the matter, Derek decided to let it go for now, though he still hadn’t gotten the answer to his earlier question. "What does that have to do with Y/N?"

Spencer sighed heavily, the weight of his embarrassment pressing down on him. "She was walking past during the end of the call. I think she might have heard me, but she was too polite to say anything. I don’t know… I’m just embarrassed. My own partner wouldn’t show up to something that important to me, and she probably heard how pathetic that sounded."

Derek frowned, his heart going out to his friend. "You’re not pathetic, Reid. You’ve just been dealt a rough hand. And Y/N… well, she’s not the kind of person to judge you for that. If anything, she probably feels bad that you were hurt."

Spencer nodded, though the shame still lingered. "Yeah, maybe. It’s just hard, you know? I don’t want her—or anyone—to see me like that."

Derek gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "I get it, man. But Y/N… she’s good people. Maybe talking to her might help, even if it’s just to clear the air."

Spencer considered Derek’s words, the idea of reaching out to you both comforting and terrifying. But deep down, he knew Derek was right. It wasn’t too late to make things right, and maybe—just maybe—you’d be the understanding ear he desperately needed.

After parting ways with Derek, Spencer realized he’d forgotten to mention how you had quietly paid for his books at the bookstore. Wrapped up in the emotions of their conversation, it had slipped his mind. But as he returned to his desk, the memory resurfaced, and he found himself holding onto it like a cherished secret.

Spencer wanted to keep that moment to himself, a private reminder of your kindness. It had meant more to him than words could express, especially in a time when he often felt overlooked. Your simple act of generosity was a bright spot, making him feel seen and cared for in a way he rarely experienced.

—

Thursday evening marked your first date with Shane, and it was everything you had hoped for. They had called earlier in the week to make plans, and you were excited to have someone showing genuine interest and making an effort. Penelope had eagerly offered to help you get ready, her expertise in all things beauty proving invaluable.

"Pen, you’re seriously the best," you gushed as she applied the finishing touches to your look. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Penelope giggled, her eyes twinkling. "Probably show up looking a lot less flamboyant!"

"And we would not want that," you teased with a smile, savoring every moment of girl time with your roommate and best friend.

When Shane arrived to pick you up, they were the epitome of courteousness—opening doors, pulling out your chair, and keeping the conversation lively throughout the evening. It was an amazing first date, made even better by Shane’s undeniable attractiveness. You enjoyed yourself thoroughly, feeling a spark of excitement about where this could lead.

Meanwhile, across the restaurant, Spencer sat at a table with Eli, his view of you unobstructed. What should have been a special anniversary dinner had been overshadowed by the effort it took to even get Eli to agree to go out. Spencer had to beg them to celebrate, with Eli initially resisting, claiming they didn’t want to spend the money. Spencer had insisted it was worth it, that their relationship was worth celebrating. Eli eventually caved, but only because they didn’t want Spencer to start crying—again.

As Spencer watched you laugh and smile with Shane, he felt a sharp pang in his chest, the desire to drown his sorrows in a bottle of wine nearly overwhelming. The contrast between your joyous date and his own crumbling relationship was stark. Eli sat across from him, more interested in checking their fantasy football league stats than in engaging with him.

Of course, you would go on a date with the attractive person from the bookstore. In Spencer’s eyes, they were everything he wasn’t. It made sense that you’d find happiness with someone like that, while he watched his own chances at joy slip further away. It was just another reminder that good things, happiness, were always just out of reach for him. As he sat there, barely holding back his tears, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own choices, the realization that he had pushed away someone who might have brought him the kind of happiness he saw reflected in your smile from across the room.

After Shane paid the bill for your dinner, causing you to swoon at the kind gesture, the two of you walked toward the exit, Shane’s hand resting intimately on your lower back. As you passed by Spencer's table, you couldn’t resist saying hello, the expensive wine Shane had ordered loosening your tongue.

“Spencer! Hi!” you greeted excitedly, your smile wide.

Spencer looked up at you, clearly caught off guard, his expression quickly shifting to a polite smile. “Hello,” he replied, trying to mask his surprise.

“What are you doing here? Is this Eli?” You turned to the person sitting across from him, offering a warm smile.

Eli, however, gave you a cold, sinister look. “Wow, beauty and brains, what a catch,” they remarked snidely, directing their comment at Shane.

The sarcasm completely flew over your head, and you responded cheerfully, “I think you’re pretty too! It’s so nice to meet you, and Spencer, so good to see you! Bye!” You gave a little wave, before taking Shane’s hand and dragging them toward the car, their laughter following behind you. Shane, having had much less to drink, simply smiled, amused by your tipsy enthusiasm.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Spencer grew even more quiet, while Eli’s anger simmered, their face contorting with irritation.

“What the fuck was that?” Eli asked, their voice low and venomous.

Spencer’s head snapped up, startled by the harshness in Eli’s tone. “What? Y/N? She’s drunk,” he replied, trying to defuse the situation, though he felt increasingly uncomfortable under Eli’s glare.

“No shit, Spencer,” Eli scoffed, rolling their eyes with frustration. “But why did they say hi to you?”

Spencer fumbled for an explanation, feeling cornered. “Umm… I guess we’re kind of friends by association?” he offered, his words uncertain, as even he wasn’t sure how to define your relationship.

Eli’s eyes narrowed, their anger intensifying. “I told you not to talk to her. I asked you to do one fucking thing in this relationship—how hard is it to not talk to some dumb bimbo?” they snarled.

Spencer shrank in his seat, feeling like a scolded child. His embarrassment was palpable as he tried to explain, “I can’t help that she’s Penelope’s roommate. I like to be civil.”

“Civil, sure,” Eli spat, their tone dripping with contempt. “But I’m serious, Spencer. Don’t. Fucking. Talk to her.”

Spencer sat there, shrinking further under Eli’s gaze, a sense of helplessness washing over him. The contrast between your cheerful, lighthearted demeanor and Eli’s seething anger left him feeling more isolated than ever. The joy you had shown in such a simple greeting only highlighted the growing chasm between him and his partner, making him question, yet again, why he was holding onto something that felt so toxic and damaging.

—

It was a few weeks before your paths crossed with Spencer again, and during that time, he couldn't help but wonder if Eli had somehow managed to keep you away from him. But today, here you were, standing in the bullpen with Penelope’s phone in hand, panting slightly from your rush to deliver it.

“Y/N! You’re a lifesaver!” Penelope cried out, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laughed, catching your breath. “I don’t even know how you made it out of the house without this thing, I thought it was attached to you!”

Derek and Emily joined in the laughter, clearly enjoying the interaction. “Baby girl was excited to come in today—they gave her a new monitor,” Derek teased, grinning.

“Ohh, show me!” you clapped your hands in excitement, your enthusiasm infectious.

As you followed Penelope to her office, you passed by Spencer’s desk, giving him a soft, “Hi, Spencer,” your voice low and warm.

But Spencer didn’t look up. He simply stared down at the file in front of him, his mind far from his work. Eli’s threat echoed in his head, reminding him that he couldn’t talk to you. The lack of response went unnoticed by everyone except for you and Emily.

After you disappeared into Penelope’s office, Emily walked over to Spencer’s desk, her expression concerned. “Reid…? Is something wrong?” she asked cautiously, her voice gentle.

Spencer looked up, shaking his head as if to brush off her concern. “No,” he replied curtly, but his tone was anything but reassuring.

Emily wasn’t convinced. “Okay, well, it’s just… you ignored Y/N pretty harshly. I think she was just trying to be nice.”

Spencer knew it was an overreaction, but the turmoil in his mind was overwhelming, clouding his judgment. He felt cornered, and before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Oh yeah, Emily? Is that what you think? I’m sure you’re right, seeing as you know everything.”

With that, he abruptly stood up, storming out of the bullpen, leaving Emily and Derek in stunned silence.

Rossi, who had been quietly working at his desk nearby, looked up, his brow furrowed with concern as he fixed Emily and Derek with a questioning gaze. “Is he using again?” he asked, his voice heavy with worry.

“Fuck,” Derek muttered under his breath, quickly getting up to chase after Spencer, his heart pounding with fear and urgency.

Emily exchanged a worried glance with Rossi, both of them hoping that whatever was going on with Spencer could be addressed before it spiraled out of control.

"Reid, wait up!" Derek called out as he watched Spencer stride quickly down the hall, his pace fueled by frustration and confusion. Spencer, too caught up in his thoughts, didn’t stop or even acknowledge Derek's voice. But Derek was determined, and he quickened his pace, finally catching up to Spencer and grabbing his arm, halting him in his tracks.

"Kid, I need you to tell me right here and now if you’re using again," Derek panted, his concern clear in his voice.

Spencer's face immediately morphed into one of shock and offense. "What? No! I’m clean," he replied, his tone defensive but honest.

Derek sighed deeply, relief flooding him. "Okay, thank God."

Spencer frowned, still reeling from the accusation. "Why would you think that?"

Derek looked at him intently. "Did you hear yourself just now? You were out of line with Prentiss. She was only trying to help."

Spencer let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and sharp. "Isn’t that what everyone wants to do? Help poor, defenseless Spencer," he said sarcastically. "Why can’t I ever just take care of myself?"

Derek gave him a sympathetic look, his concern deepening. "That’s not what I meant. I’m just worried about you. Is it more stuff with Eli?"

The mention of Eli’s name set Spencer off again, the anger bubbling back to the surface. "Christ, is there no privacy anymore?" he snapped, his voice tight with frustration.

Derek held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I’m not trying to invade your privacy, man. I just want to make sure you’re okay. You’ve been off lately, and I’m concerned. We all are."

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. "It’s… nothing, Derek."

Derek nodded, his tone softening. "It doesn’t seem like nothing, kid."

Spencer looked down, his voice small and almost defeated. "Can you just… stop being a big brother for a second?"

Derek’s expression softened even more as he asked gently, "Who do you want me to be?"

Spencer let out a weary sigh. "I don’t know… a wizard? Then maybe you could help me go back in time."

Derek started to ask, "Why do you need–" but before he could finish, his phone rang, the familiar tone signaling a new case. He glanced at the screen, then back at Spencer with a resigned look. "Time to go."

Spencer nodded, the moment slipping away as the reality of their work took precedence. But as they walked back toward the bullpen, Derek couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more going on beneath the surface—something that Spencer wasn’t ready to share yet.

—

When the team arrived back from the case, Spencer dreaded going home. He hadn't talked to Eli since the day they left, sending only a brief text to let them know he was heading out on a case and another just now to inform them he was back. But as usual, there were no messages waiting for him in return. Eli had done this before—the silent treatment. It was their way of letting Spencer know he had messed up, though the reason was often unclear until Eli decided to spell it out.

As Spencer approached his front door, the familiar feeling of anxiety settled in his chest. He knew what awaited him: the cold, silent disapproval from Eli, followed by the inevitable confrontation. It was why he was dreading going home, but there was no avoiding it.

When Spencer unlocked the front door, he was greeted by the sound of football blaring from the TV, and not much else. The usual signs of Eli’s presence—a drink on the coffee table, their shoes kicked off haphazardly—were all there, but the silence from Eli themselves was telling.

He announced his presence quietly, hoping to gauge the mood before he ventured further into the house. Without much of a response, Spencer headed to the laundry room, deciding to busy himself with washing his clothes. It was a mundane task, but it gave him something to focus on, a way to delay the inevitable confrontation.

What Spencer wasn’t expecting was for Eli to suddenly come up behind him, wrapping their arms around his waist and kissing the back of his neck. The affectionate gesture caught him off guard.

“Hey, baby,” Eli whispered, their voice soft and intimate.

“He–hey, Eli,” Spencer stammered, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t tell if this was going to lead to something good or if it was just a precursor to another argument.

“I missed you while you were gone,” Eli mumbled, their lips trailing across Spencer’s neck, planting gentle kisses along his skin.

“Yeah?” Spencer sighed, tilting his head slightly to give Eli more access, his body instinctively responding to the affection despite the uncertainty gnawing at him.

“Mhm, it’s so lonely here without you,” Eli murmured, continuing their gentle assault of kisses.

That evening, Spencer found himself in the company of a sweet, loving, and cherishing Eli. It was a side of his partner he didn’t see often, and he was left wondering what he had done to deserve this sudden tenderness. But instead of questioning it, he allowed himself to be swept up in the rare affection, choosing to savor the moment rather than dwell on the why.

For that night, at least, Spencer let himself believe that everything was okay, that maybe this time things would be different. Even if it was just for a little while, he wasn’t going to complain.

—

You got a mysterious text from Shane, asking if they could come over to talk. You agreed, of course, but a nervous feeling settled in your stomach. Things had been going really well between the two of you—multiple dates, kisses, and they had even met Penelope. But as you opened the door to let them in, you immediately sensed that this wasn’t going to be good news.

"Hey, Y/N," Shane greeted with a sigh, giving you a sad smile. "Can I come in?"

You opened the door wider and motioned for them to enter, trying to brace yourself for whatever was coming. The two of you sat in the chairs by the window, the tension palpable as you waited for Shane to speak.

"What’s up, Shane?" you asked cautiously, your heart already preparing for the worst.

Shane sighed again, scratching the back of their head, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I really respect you, so I felt it was only fair to tell you face to face... that I met someone. Someone I want to pursue things with exclusively."

Your heart sank. Of course, the one genuine person you meet found someone better than you. "Oh," was all you could manage to say, the word barely escaping your lips as you processed the rejection.

"I’m sorry, Y/N," Shane continued, their expression full of pity. "You’re a lovely person, and I really enjoyed our time together. But I just—"

"You don’t have to explain," you interrupted, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile despite the ache building in your chest. "I get it."

Shane frowned, clearly feeling bad, but they didn’t push further. They stood, clearly sensing that it was time to leave. "I really do wish you the best, Y/N. You deserve someone amazing."

You nodded, but the words felt hollow in the space between you. After you closed the door behind them, you sank into your chair, the weight of disappointment settling heavily on your shoulders. You hadn’t expected this, and now you were left alone, wondering why this always seemed to happen—just when things seemed to be going well, they unraveled.

As you sat there, staring blankly out the window, the weight of the rejection settled deep into your chest. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t a big deal, that these things happen, but the familiar voice of self-doubt crept in, louder and sharper than ever. Of course they found someone better. Why wouldn’t they?

You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was always you—never enough, never quite the right fit. You replayed the last few weeks in your mind, analyzing every detail, every moment, searching for where you might have fallen short. Maybe you weren’t interesting enough, not exciting enough, not worth sticking around for.

What if I’m just not the kind of person people choose? The thought gnawed at you, sinking deeper into your mind. Every small flaw, every insecurity felt magnified, and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just how things would always be. Always second place. Always left behind.

—

Meanwhile, everything between Spencer and Eli seemed to improve dramatically. Eli was suddenly attentive in ways Spencer hadn’t experienced in a long time. They bought Spencer flowers, cooked him dinner, and even made an effort to engage in the things Spencer loved—whether it was sitting with him through documentaries or accompanying him on long walks through the city.

Spencer wasn’t sure what had sparked this radical change in Eli, but he didn’t dare question it. Part of him was afraid that if he asked, the magic would break, and everything would go back to the way it was before—the cold indifference, the emotional distance. For now, he clung to the fleeting happiness, allowing himself to believe that maybe this was the turning point he had been waiting for.

But in the back of his mind, a quiet voice whispered that good things never lasted for him, and any moment, it could all disappear. He knew better than to get comfortable, but for now, he basked in the attention, unwilling to let go of this brief glimpse of a perfect relationship.

Eli had never been one for grand gestures, but lately, everything felt different. Spencer came home one evening to find a bouquet of brightly colored flowers on the kitchen table, their fragrance filling the room.

"Hey, you’re home!" Eli called from the kitchen, a warm smile on their face as they stirred something on the stove. "I made your favorite—pasta with garlic bread. Thought you might like something comforting after your day."

Spencer blinked, his mind racing as he tried to process the shift. He set his bag down, cautiously approaching the flowers. "You… got these for me?" he asked, his voice soft, unsure.

Eli chuckled and walked over to him, wiping their hands on a dish towel before wrapping their arms around his waist. "Of course, I did. You deserve it, Spencie."

Spencer smiled, though his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. This wasn’t like Eli at all. "I… thank you. They’re beautiful." He leaned down to smell the flowers, a wave of warmth flooding him, but a lingering doubt hovered at the back of his mind.

Later that week, they were sitting together on the couch, something they rarely did. Eli had insisted on watching one of Spencer’s favorite documentaries, something about ancient civilizations that Spencer would usually watch alone.

"I never knew this stuff was so interesting," Eli commented, their head resting on Spencer’s shoulder. "Why didn’t you make me watch this with you sooner?"

Spencer looked down at them, unsure of how to respond. "I didn’t think it was really your thing," he admitted, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of Eli’s shirt. "You’ve never really… wanted to before."

Eli sat up slightly, turning to face Spencer, their hand coming to rest on his knee. "Well, I want to now," they said, smiling softly.

Spencer’s heart swelled at the words, but the confusion deepened. This was everything he had wanted from Eli for so long, but the sudden shift left him off-balance. Still, he wasn’t ready to question it—not when things were finally good. He forced himself to smile back, leaning in to kiss Eli’s forehead.

"I appreciate that," he whispered, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I just…I’m happy."

Eli kissed him softly on the lips, pulling him closer. "I love you, Spencie," they murmured, their words sweet and tender. "And I want to make sure you know that."

Spencer wrapped his arms around them, his mind swirling with unanswered questions. He wanted to ask what had caused this change, what had made Eli suddenly decide to be the partner he had always hoped for. But the fear of losing this fleeting happiness kept him silent. He wasn’t ready to risk it all, not yet.

—

Penelope had been watching you closely for days, her eyes filled with concern. She knew something was wrong, but you had been keeping your walls up, retreating further into your sadness after things fell apart with Shane. Every attempt she made to drag you out of the apartment had been met with a firm, “I’m just not feeling up to it, Pen.”

But Penelope wasn’t one to give up so easily. "Come on, honey, you can’t just sit here and stew over that idiot forever," she urged, practically bouncing on her feet. "We need to go out, have some fun, and remind the world who the hell we are!"

"I don’t know…" you trailed off, glancing at the TV as though it had something to offer. But you knew it didn’t. You just didn’t have the energy.

"Y/N," Penelope said firmly, placing her hands on her hips, "I love you, but sitting in pajamas while watching reality shows for the third night in a row is not how we get over this. You are coming with me."

You sighed, knowing she wasn’t going to relent. "Fine," you groaned, finally giving in.

Penelope’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Yes! Shower, now. I’m doing your makeup, and we are going to paint the town red!"

It wasn’t long before she had you dolled up, feeling like a different version of yourself. The two of you hit the town with one goal: to get drunk and forget all about stupid people like Shane. JJ, Emily, and Derek met up with you at the bar, and soon you were all dancing up a storm. The music, the energy, and the friends surrounding you were doing exactly what Penelope had intended—they were lifting you out of your funk.

You loved the attention you were getting, and it was absolutely helping you feel better about everything that had happened. The compliments, the laughs, the warmth of your friends—it was like a balm to the hurt you had been carrying.

After a while, you started feeling parched from all the dancing, so you drifted away from the group to grab some water at the bar. As you reached the counter, you bumped into someone.

"Oh, I’m sorry," you yelped, turning quickly to see who it was you’d run into.

To your surprise, the body turned around, and there, standing in front of you, was Eli. Your stomach dropped slightly, expecting some snide remark, a cutting comment like the ones you’d heard before.

But instead, Eli let out a light laugh. "No problem!" they said with a smile, their tone unusually friendly.

You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected response. Even Spencer, standing next to Eli, looked just as surprised, his brow furrowed slightly at Eli’s easygoing attitude toward you.

"Uh… thanks," you said, forcing a polite smile, still not entirely sure what to make of the encounter.

Eli nodded, still smiling, before turning back to their drink, leaving you standing there, feeling slightly bewildered. You couldn’t help but glance at Spencer, who gave you a small, almost apologetic smile, as if to acknowledge how strange the moment had been.

The interaction left you feeling a bit off-kilter, but as you grabbed your water and headed back to the dance floor, you pushed the weirdness aside. Tonight was about you, about having fun and moving on. Whatever Eli’s sudden kindness meant, you weren’t going to let it throw you off track.

Soon, you couldn’t just brush off the strange interaction because, much to your surprise, Spencer and Eli joined the rest of you on the dance floor. It was a sight you hadn’t expected.

“Whoa, pretty boy! I didn’t think you’d show!” Derek cheered, clearly having invited Spencer without anyone else knowing.

Spencer gave a half-smile, looking awkward as he stood on the outskirts of the group. “Yeah, uh… Eli thought it would be fun,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his discomfort obvious.

“Well, loosen up, genius!” Emily called out, playfully nudging him. “We’re here to have fun.”

Eli, however, had no problem jumping right in, grabbing Spencer by the hips and guiding him into the rhythm of the music. Spencer’s movement was stilted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but Eli didn’t seem to mind, dancing all around him, their hands sliding over his shoulders and down his sides. The contrast between Spencer’s stiff posture and Eli’s free-spirited movements made for an interesting sight.

You tried to brush it off, but the more you watched, the more an odd sense of jealousy began to brew in your chest. It’s just because I’m newly single, you told yourself, trying to rationalize the pang of envy. But it didn’t feel that simple, and as you watched Eli spin Spencer with a grin, you couldn’t help but wonder why it bothered you so much.

Penelope noticed your mood shift immediately, her eyes following your gaze. She knew you too well, and it wasn’t long before she saw you slipping off the dance floor, making your way outside for some air. She wasn’t surprised at all—you needed a moment to clear your head.

What did surprise you, though, was when the door opened a few minutes later, and Spencer stepped out, his hands shoved into his pockets as he came to stand next to you. The cool night air felt refreshing against your heated skin, but Spencer’s presence made your heart race slightly, unsure of what to say or do.

Neither of you spoke for a moment, the silence hanging between you like a thread waiting to be pulled.

“You okay?” Spencer finally asked, his voice soft as he looked at you, the concern clear in his expression.

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light despite the heaviness in your chest. “Yeah, just needed some air. It was getting a little... crowded in there.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze drifting down the street before returning to you. “Yeah, I get that,” he said quietly. He shifted his weight, looking almost as uncomfortable out here as he did on the dance floor.

You glanced over at him, curiosity tugging at you. “You don’t really seem like a club guy,” you said, half teasing.

Spencer chuckled awkwardly, his shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “I’m not,” he admitted. “I, uh, don’t really dance. Eli’s more into that.”

You nodded, watching him for a moment. There was something in his eyes—something that made you feel like he wasn’t entirely thrilled to be out here either.

“Eli seems really into it,” you said, testing the waters, unsure why you even brought it up.

Spencer’s smile faltered for a split second before he nodded again. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice quieter this time. He didn’t elaborate, and the silence between you grew, filled with unspoken thoughts and emotions that neither of you seemed ready to address.

After a moment, you decided to break the tension. “I didn’t expect to see you out tonight.”

Spencer chuckled softly, kicking at a loose pebble with his shoe. “I didn’t expect to be out, to be honest,” he admitted. “But, well... here I am.”

You smiled, feeling a strange connection in that shared sentiment. “Yeah, here we are.”

Spencer didn’t know why he followed you. Maybe it was the way you quietly slipped away from the group, or maybe it was something deeper—a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, like an invisible string pulling him after you. He had hesitated for a moment, glancing at Eli before deciding he needed to step outside.

“Hey, uh... is it okay if I step out for some air?” Spencer asked, trying to sound casual.

Eli’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to him. “With Y/N?” they asked, their tone neutral, but it made Spencer catch his breath, suddenly nervous that Eli might get upset in front of everyone.

Spencer swallowed hard. “Is that... okay?” he asked tentatively, trying to gauge Eli’s reaction.

Eli’s face softened, a sweet smile forming as they nodded. “Yeah, Spencie! Go check on your friend.”

Relief washed over Spencer, though a small knot of confusion lingered. Eli’s sudden sweetness left him feeling a bit unsettled, but he didn’t question it. Instead, he gave a small smile in return before quietly making his way outside to join you.

As he stood next to you in the cool night air, the questions he had about Eli faded, replaced by an inexplicable need to be there with you, to share this quiet moment away from the chaos of the night.

You and Spencer remained side by side, chatting politely, both enjoying the quiet reprieve from the crowd inside. The cool night air felt refreshing, a stark contrast to the warm chaos of the dance floor.

“Are you, uh—still seeing that person from the other week?” Spencer asked awkwardly, his words stumbling out as he glanced at you.

You stiffened slightly at the mention of Shane, the wound still fresh, not something you wanted to discuss right now, especially not here. "No," you said simply, hoping to leave it at that.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting away before he coughed. "Oh," he mumbled, then added, "I’m sorry. They’re an idiot."

You couldn’t help but smile, the warmth of his words cutting through some of the lingering pain. "Thank you," you said softly, genuinely appreciating his attempt to comfort you.

Spencer nodded, and when he finally looked at you, something in his expression changed. His eyes locked with yours, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still. He realized in that instant that what he felt looking into your eyes—this connection, this spark—was stronger than anything he’d ever felt with Eli. Every moment he had shared with Eli over the course of their relationship paled in comparison to what he felt standing there with you now.

The realization hit him like a tidal wave, both exhilarating and terrifying. He wasn’t sure what to do with this feeling, and the fear of what it meant gripped him tightly. Spencer wasn’t ready to confront it, but in that moment, he knew something had shifted between the two of you. And that scared him more than anything.

—

The next time you saw him, Eli was by his side once again. The team was gathered to celebrate Aaron Hotchner’s birthday with a fancy dinner followed by a play, and the atmosphere was light, filled with laughter and easy conversation. The dinner had been delicious, and everyone was in high spirits as you all made your way to the theater, excitement buzzing in the air.

Finding your seats, you realized the universe must have been playing some sort of twisted joke. The numbers on your tickets had placed you directly next to Spencer. It seemed innocent enough—JJ was on your other side, and Eli sat beside Spencer—but the proximity between you two felt charged in a way that was hard to ignore.

The lights dimmed, and the show began, captivating the audience almost immediately. You focused on the performance, but you had no idea that Spencer's mind was far from the stage. Since the moment you walked into the restaurant tonight, Spencer’s mind had been a chaotic kaleidoscope of images of you. The way you looked, the way you moved, the sound of your laugh—it was overwhelming.

Sitting so close to you now, he felt a primal, almost feral need stirring inside him, something he'd never experienced so intensely before. It was beyond mere attraction; it was hunger. He could barely focus on the play as his thoughts drifted to you again and again.

Spencer’s chest tightened with guilt as his mind began slipping away from innocent thoughts. At first, his musings were harmless, but they quickly escalated to PG-13, and then further, to places he had never allowed himself to go before. He couldn’t shake it, this wild, uncontrollable pull toward you. He wanted to tear his thoughts away, but every fiber of his being was hyper-aware of your presence next to him.

It was horrible—he felt like he was betraying Eli, even though the thoughts stayed locked inside his own head. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he tried to suppress the desire building within him. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this, not when Eli was sitting right next to him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the intense attraction coursing through his body. The guilt gnawed at him, but the desire burned even stronger.

He felt trapped, stuck between the relationship he had and the undeniable draw he felt toward you. And in that dark theater, surrounded by his friends, Spencer’s thoughts were anything but innocent.

During intermission, Spencer excused himself, practically fleeing to the restroom. Once there, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to wash away the guilty, indecent thoughts that had plagued him throughout the first half of the play. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought, staring at his reflection, trying to regain control of himself.

Meanwhile, you headed to the concession stand, grabbing a lemonade. It came with a straw, which you twirled absentmindedly as you made your way back to your seat. You settled in, sipping slowly as everyone found their spots again.

When Spencer returned and sat next to you, he tried to focus on anything but you—the play, Eli, anything—but his eyes kept drifting to your lips as you wrapped them around the straw, sipping your drink. The way you casually sipped, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him, made his throat dry.

You noticed his lingering gaze and raised an eyebrow, suppressing a small smile. "Want a sip?" you offered, holding the drink out toward him, your voice teasing but light.

Spencer hesitated for a second, knowing that accepting it would be a bad idea. But then again, what harm could one sip do? "Sure," he replied, his voice low, almost strained.

Instead of taking the cup from your hand, Spencer leaned over, resting his hand lightly on your thigh as he bent toward you. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and your breath hitched as he brought his lips to the straw still clasped in your hand. He took a slow sip, his hand remaining firmly in place, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress.

Your face flushed a deep crimson, the simple act of him drinking from the same straw suddenly charged with an intimacy you hadn’t anticipated. You glanced quickly at Eli, but they were preoccupied, furiously typing away on their phone, not even noticing what was happening between you and Spencer.

As the lights flickered, signaling the end of intermission, Spencer pulled back, the drink slipping from his lips, but his hand stayed where it was, resting warmly on your thigh. The lights dimmed once more, and the play resumed, but Spencer’s touch remained, grounding you in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

Neither of you said a word, but the unspoken tension between you hung in the air, heavier than ever. You didn’t dare move, and neither did he. And as the minutes passed, you could feel the weight of that moment, the quiet acknowledgement that whatever was happening between you was more than just fleeting glances or stolen moments.

Spencer’s hand stayed on your thigh for the rest of the show, and you tried to rationalize it. It’s probably just the wine he had with dinner, you thought, convincing yourself he was just feeling a bit more friendly than usual. After all, the two of you had bonded that night at the club, and maybe this was just an extension of that. Still, the warmth of his hand lingered longer than it should have, sending ripples of confusion through you.

When the lights came back on and the play ended, you quickly stood, clapping in applause and efficiently removing Spencer’s hand from your leg. You didn’t want to dwell on it, but the moment left you feeling uneasy. As the theater cleared, the group gathered outside to say their goodbyes, but you found yourself avoiding Spencer’s gaze.

Leaning over to Penelope, you whispered, "I’m not feeling so great. I think I need to head out."

Concern flashed across her face, but she didn’t question you. "Of course, babe. Let’s go."

After wishing Aaron a happy birthday, you and Penelope left before you could make any eye contact with Spencer. Your thoughts raced as you hurried away, unsure why he had acted the way he did. You didn’t hate what had happened, and that made it worse. He has a partner, you reminded yourself, the guilt settling heavily in your chest.

Meanwhile, Spencer and Eli made their way home as well. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension, but when they arrived, Eli wasted no time initiating an intimate night. Spencer let it happen, going through the motions as his mind drifted back to you. He felt a surge of guilt and self-loathing. As Eli’s hands moved over him, Spencer’s thoughts were filled with the image of you, your laughter, the feel of your thigh beneath his palm. It made him feel like a monster, like he was betraying not only Eli, but you as well.

But what Spencer didn’t realize was that he wasn’t the only one with someone else on his mind. As Eli kissed him, their thoughts weren’t on Spencer either. The unspoken fractures in their relationship were growing wider, with both of them secretly imagining someone else, locked in a cycle of unaddressed desires and unvoiced doubts.

—

It was October now, and Halloween was rapidly approaching—Spencer's favorite time of year and his absolute favorite holiday. The excitement had been building for weeks, and it was palpable. He loved everything about Halloween—the history, the traditions, and, of course, the chance to dress up and lose himself in the festive spirit.

But as the holiday approached, so did the Halloween party you and Penelope were throwing. The entire team had been invited, along with their partners and a few other friends. It was going to be a night full of fun, laughter, and celebration, and you couldn't wait to show everyone the apartment, which was fully decked out in spooky decorations.

Though you were looking forward to the party, there was one thought that kept crossing your mind: Spencer. He’d be there, of course, with Eli by his side. It was hard to shake the feeling that no matter how much time had passed since that strange, tension-filled evening at the theater, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The truth was, you knew you couldn’t have him—he was spoken for, and no matter what had happened or hadn’t happened, he was off-limits.

But that didn’t stop you from hoping your costume might catch his eye.

You’d spent extra time picking out the perfect outfit—something that was fun and playful, but with just enough edge to make an impression. Part of you wondered if he would notice, if he would look at you the way he had during the play. Even though you knew it was dangerous territory, the thought lingered in the back of your mind.

As you finished adjusting the final Halloween decorations, you glanced around the apartment, satisfied with how everything had turned out. The anticipation of the party and seeing everyone—especially Spencer—left a mix of excitement and nervousness brewing inside you.

One night, you thought. One night to celebrate, to have fun. Just let it be enough.

By the time people started arriving, your apartment had been fully transformed into a Halloween wonderland. The living room is draped in warm, spooky hues of purple and orange, with bats hanging from the ceiling and a wreath made of autumn leaves and tiny pumpkins framing the window. The couches are decorated with plush pillows and blankets, and a coffee table sits adorned with jack-o'-lanterns, flickering with eerie candlelight, surrounded by scattered fall leaves.

The hallway leading to the party area is wrapped in dark, twisting branches and shimmering orange lights, creating a haunting yet whimsical path. A skeleton sits at the dining table, illuminated by the warm glow of string lights that crisscross overhead, casting playful shadows along the walls.

Further in, an archway framed with grinning pumpkins welcomes guests into a dining area, bathed in the glow of purple lights. Jack-o'-lanterns of all shapes and sizes line the walls, giving the space a playful but eerie ambiance. It’s the kind of atmosphere that will make the party unforgettable, setting the perfect tone for the night.

You and Penelope stood by the door, greeting your guests as they entered your neon-lit, spooky apartment, handing out glowing necklaces as a fun touch to set the party's mood. Amid the excitement and stress of hosting, you nearly forgot that Spencer would be walking through that door any minute now. Your thoughts had been focused on making sure everything was perfect, greeting the steady stream of guests, and keeping the energy light and fun.

Just as you were handing another glowing necklace to a guest, the front door burst open, and in strolled Derek, as confident as ever, with Emily on one arm and JJ on the other. Emily looked striking in her sleek Morticia Addams costume, with her sharp features highlighted by her dark makeup, and JJ exuded playful fierceness in her Kill Bill-inspired outfit. Penelope, as usual, was a burst of color and creativity in her neon-pink, revealing Alice in Wonderland-esc cat costume.

Derek, dressed as a dashing fighter pilot, took one look at you and Penelope, his eyes wide with exaggerated awe. “Wow! My god, you gorgeous ladies are gonna give me a heart attack!” he playfully swooned, placing a hand dramatically over his chest.

Penelope grinned, striking a pose next to you, her Cheshire cat grin almost matching the one she had painted on her face. "Careful, Morgan. You might need to be resuscitated."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange, but your heart fluttered slightly as you realized that any moment, Spencer would be walking in, and you wondered what he would think when he saw you in your costume.

The whole team had arrived about 20 minutes ago, with everyone dressed to impress, save for Spencer. You couldn’t help but worry he wasn’t going to come, despite his excitement about Halloween. You tried to stay positive, especially since everyone else seemed to be in good spirits. Even Hotch and Rossi had put in some effort, dressing up as Men in Black, though it was hardly a stretch from their usual look—very creative you thought with a smirk.

The party had started in full swing, laughter and music filling the room, but you couldn’t shake the slight disappointment. What if he doesn’t show?

Then, suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Without thinking, you crossed the room and swung it open, your jaw practically hitting the floor when you saw who was standing on the other side.

There, in all his unnervingly handsome glory, was Spencer—no Eli in sight. He was dressed as Patrick Bateman from American Psycho, complete with a suit, raincoat, and an ax slung over his shoulder. His normally disheveled hair was slicked back, and the blood splatter across his face made him look dangerously alluring. You could feel your heart stutter in your chest.

You stood there with your hand still on the door, staring at him for far too long to be socially acceptable. But Spencer wasn’t faring much better. His eyes had widened when he saw you in your Ghostface costume—though this was your take of the infamous killer, your fitted corset and thigh-high slit showing more than enough to leave Spencer speechless.

His lips parted slightly, the two of you caught in an awkward, electrifying silence. Neither of you moved or spoke, both seemingly frozen in the moment. You tried to find something to say, but your brain refused to cooperate. He looked breathtaking, and from the look in his eyes, you were certain he thought the same about you.

"Uh… wow," Spencer finally managed, his voice low, almost reverent.

You blinked, snapping out of your trance and feeling your cheeks heat up. "Spencer… you… look…" You trailed off, biting your lip as your eyes roamed over his form again.

"Yeah," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your costume. "You too." He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly but never taking his eyes off you.

You stepped aside, finally remembering your manners. "Come in," you said, your voice breathless.

As he walked past you, your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Tonight was going to be interesting.

“Boy wonder!” Penelope squealed as she caught sight of Spencer walking into the party. Her arms flung open dramatically before pulling him into a big squeeze.

"Hey, Pen, great party!" Spencer laughed, his voice warm as he returned her embrace.

JJ approached, tilting her head curiously. "Where’s Eli?"

Spencer didn’t seem fazed by the question as he shrugged casually. "Oh, their friend is having a party tonight too. They might stop by later, but I wouldn’t count on it," he replied with a small laugh, seemingly unbothered by Eli’s absence.

Derek, being a sharp observer of Spencer’s moods, raised an eyebrow. “...And you’re cool with this?”

Spencer just smiled brightly, brushing it off with a light chuckle. “Yup! We don’t have to do everything together.” He laughed again, the sound easygoing and relaxed.

Everyone seemed to accept his answer, nodding along before the party really began to kick into gear. Laughter and conversation flowed easily around the room, the energy of the Halloween festivities keeping everyone entertained.

But despite the natural rhythm of the night, you couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Something about Spencer seemed off—not in a bad way, but different. He seemed almost too happy that Eli hadn’t joined him. There was something about his energy, a lightness that hadn’t been there before, and the more you watched him throughout the evening, the more you wondered what was really going on beneath that bright smile of his.

You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when the sound of footsteps behind you caught your attention. Without hesitation, you glanced over your shoulder and saw Spencer standing there. Instinctively, you turned to face him, not wanting to give him the chance to sneak up on you.

"Hello, Spencer," you greeted with a warm smile, trying to mask the sudden nervous energy that surged through you.

"Y/N," he nodded, stepping a little closer. "You know, maybe we should team up. Might make things easier," he added with a smirk, his costume and demeanor making him look every bit the psycho he was dressed as. The sight of him like that sent your heart racing, and to your dismay, you found yourself stuttering.

"Wh–what? You, an–an–me?"

Spencer just laughed, the sound low and amused. "Ghostface and Patrick Bateman? We’d make quite the team."

You chuckled nervously, trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach. "Oh, hah, yeah, you’re right. So, um, who’s our first victim?" you asked, playing along with the joke.

Spencer rubbed his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm… I’d say we start with the Men in Black. Take out the authority first."

You couldn’t help it—the laugh that erupted from you was genuine and loud, a real cackle that caught you off guard. You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by how loud it was.

But before you could fully hide, Spencer reached out and gently grabbed your wrist, lowering your hand. "Don’t cover up," he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. "I like your laugh."

His touch sent a warm shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted into something heavier, something unspoken hanging between you both. You smiled, the blush creeping up your cheeks, unsure of how to respond to the sudden intimacy.

"Thanks," you murmured, your heart thudding in your chest, the moment feeling far more charged than a simple Halloween joke should have been.

You cleared your throat, turning back to focus on your drink, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "So, um, how do we take them out?" you asked, trying to keep the conversation light and playful.

Spencer tapped his chin in mock thought before flashing you a mischievous smirk. "Let's make it a game," he said, his voice low, adding to the playful tension between you. "We have to turn off their glowing necklaces without them noticing. If you’re successful, you get a point. Most points by the end of the night wins."

You grinned at the idea, nodding in agreement. "Alright, you’re on."

And just like that, the game began. You and Spencer spent the rest of the evening sneaking around the party, laughing and conspiring together like mischievous children. You’d catch each other’s eye from across the room, silently plotting, and then spring into action, working to stealthily turn off people’s glowing necklaces without them noticing.

Every time one of you was successful, you’d stifle giggles, slipping back into the crowd with a triumphant grin. The whole dynamic between you and Spencer had shifted into something new—something light, fun, and undeniably flirtatious. Your shared laughter echoed through the room, drawing the attention of the other guests.

It didn’t take long for people to notice the change. Derek raised an eyebrow at the two of you, watching as you and Spencer darted around with smiles and whispered jokes. JJ and Emily exchanged knowing glances, clearly curious about this unexpected shift in your relationship. Even Penelope caught on, throwing you a sly look that said she’d definitely be asking you about this later.

Everyone seemed to be wondering the same thing: Since when did these two get along so well?

But you didn’t care. For the first time in a long while, you were having fun—real fun—with Spencer. And, despite the attention from everyone else, you weren’t ready for it to stop.

—

As the night wrapped up, the energy was still buzzing. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, and the party had been a huge success. You felt a sense of pride as you waved goodbye to your guests, making sure everyone had a designated driver or had called a cab. Once the last person had left, you closed the door, feeling the peaceful silence settle in.

But the quiet didn’t last long.

Penelope wasted no time, immediately bombarding you with questions, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Okay, spill! What was that? You and Boy Wonder sneaking around, giggling like a couple of high schoolers? Since when are you and Spencer all… flirty?!"

You laughed, still riding the high of the evening, but you could see the concern in Penelope’s eyes. She leaned in closer, her expression softening as she lowered her voice. "Look, I loved seeing you have fun tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that," she admitted, "but I just want you to be careful. Spencer and Eli seem very happy together, and I don’t want you getting hurt."

You hesitated, knowing she was right. "I know, Pen," you sighed. "It’s just… it was harmless fun, you know? Nothing serious."

Penelope gave you a look, the one that said she wasn’t buying it. "I just don’t want you caught up in something messy," she said softly. "You deserve someone who’s all in, not someone who’s already got someone else."

You nodded, appreciating her concern, but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the way Spencer had looked at you tonight, the way you’d both laughed together like nothing else mattered.

Meanwhile, Spencer drove home in silence, not having had a single drink all night. His mind was still racing from the party, the memories of sneaking around with you and laughing filling his head. The evening had been… unexpected. He couldn’t deny that he’d had fun, maybe more fun than he’d had in a while.

When he pulled into the parking garage, he noticed Eli’s car wasn’t there. He assumed they were still out, maybe spending the night at their friend’s place. It wasn’t unusual for Eli to stay out late when they were with friends, and Spencer didn’t give it much thought as he unlocked the front door and walked inside.

He moved through the apartment quietly, heading down the hall to the bedroom. But what he didn’t expect—what stopped him dead in his tracks—was the sight that greeted him when he opened the bedroom door.

There, in his bed, was Eli. And they weren’t alone.

It took a moment for Spencer’s brain to register what he was seeing, but when it did, the shock hit him like a tidal wave. The person with Eli—the one tangled up in the sheets, very clearly entwined with his partner—was none other than Shane, the same person who had taken you on a date.

His heart pounded in his chest as the weight of the betrayal sank in, the scene before him twisting his stomach into knots.

Shane looked up at the sound of the door opening, pulling away from Eli and quickly covering both of them with the blankets, their face contorting into a mix of shock and confusion.

“What the hell?” Shane yelled, voice panicked.

That finally snapped Spencer out of his state of shock. “What the hell? What the hell! Get out of my fucking bed!” he screamed, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

“Your bed?” Shane’s face instantly fell, their eyes darting to Eli, whose expression was now cold, almost indifferent. “Are you married?” Shane asked, their voice trembling with fear and disbelief.

Eli scoffed, pushing themselves out of bed, making no effort to cover up. “No,” they said with a lazy shrug, “this is Spencer.”

“And who is Spencer?” Shane asked, sounding utterly heartbroken.

Spencer’s voice trembled with emotion as he stood frozen in the doorway, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yeah, Eli... who is Spencer?”

Eli rolled their eyes, casually pulling on a robe, unfazed by the entire situation. “My partner,” they said dismissively, as if it meant nothing.

“What?” Shane cried out, turning to Spencer, tears streaming down their face. “I am so sorry, I had no idea. We—we’ve been seeing each other for weeks.” Shane’s voice cracked with guilt and devastation.

Spencer felt like he should have been more hurt by the revelation, but the truth was, Shane’s emotional investment was far greater than his own. He saw now why Eli had been so suddenly attentive and kind—there had been someone else.

“It’s—it’s fine,” Spencer muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair, trying to keep it together. “I’ll, um, I’ll stay somewhere else tonight. Eli, let’s talk later, okay?”

Eli just nodded, entirely unaffected. “Cool.”

With that, Spencer grabbed a few things and left the apartment, feeling numb and hollow.

—

Back at your place, you and Penelope were still sitting on the couch, talking about the party, when there was a sudden knock at the door. You exchanged a curious look, not expecting anyone else to stop by at this hour.

Penelope shot up, tiptoeing over to the door and peeking through the peephole. She gasped loudly before rushing back to you, whispering in a hurried panic, “It’s Spencer!” And then, without any warning, she dashed off to her bedroom, the unmistakable sound of the door locking echoing through the apartment.

You let out a long sigh, standing up and making your way over to the door, wondering what could have brought Spencer here so late. You expected him to say he’d forgotten his phone or maybe just needed something small.

But when you opened the door, Spencer didn’t say a word.

He didn’t ask for anything, didn’t explain himself. Instead, he stepped forward, his eyes heavy with emotion, and before you could even react, he reached out, grabbing your face gently but with a sense of urgency. Then, without hesitation, Spencer pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was both desperate and full of longing.

The world seemed to stop in that moment, your heart pounding as the warmth of his lips consumed you, every thought and question vanishing into the kiss.

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2amriize · 4 months ago

Text

˚⟡˖ RIIZE after the first fight

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst ? pairing bf!riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

In all these years, you had never fought because Shotaro and you had never had any problems. You never would have imagined that your first fight would be because you forgot to wear the color you both agreed on the day before. At first, you thought Shotaro was joking, but when you saw how serious he was, you realized he wasn't. After a brief argument, you went home, crying because of how he had spoken to you. A few hours later, Shotaro showed up at your house, and when you opened the door, he immediately came closer to hug you while saying, "I'm sorry, y/n, I know I was wrong... I shouldn't have reacted that way."

ᯓ★EUNSEOK

You couldn’t believe that Eunseok had completely forgotten that you were supposed to have lunch with your parents. When you showed up at his place all dressed up to pick him up and saw him still in his pajamas, you couldn’t help but get mad at him. You left his house almost in tears out of frustration. When you arrived at your parents' house, you simply told them that Eunseok had gotten sick. You didn’t expect him to show up an hour later, all dressed up and with a bouquet of flowers for your parents. When he approached you, he kissed your cheek and then whispered in your ear, "I'm so sorry, y/n, I promise it won’t happen again."

ᯓ★SUNGCHAN

"I don't like the way he looked at you." You knew that Sungchan got jealous easily, but you never thought he would get jealous over the way your childhood friend, whom you basically saw as a brother, looked at you. Although you tried to explain to him that he had nothing to be jealous of, Sungchan kept complaining about your relationship with him. You didn’t expect Sungchan to raise his voice in the middle of the argument while looking at you intensely. At that moment, you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, so you crouched down on the floor and started crying. Seeing you like that, Sungchan immediately regretted everything he had said, crouching down to hug you and apologize right away.

ᯓ★WONBIN

You never expected your first argument with Wonbin to be over who looked better in a shirt. What started as a joke turned serious when Wonbin didn’t agree with you that it looked better on him than on you. You couldn’t believe you were arguing over something so silly, but you also knew it wouldn’t end until you gave in. "Yes, Wonbin, it looks much better on you." Seeing how serious you had gotten, looking at your phone without paying attention to him, Wonbin realized he had done something wrong. He approached you and started stroking your hair. "It's not true, y/n, we both know it looks much better on you."

ᯓ★SEUNGHAN

"Why did you put so much hot sauce? I told you I wanted to try it..." Seunghan said while frowning at you. You didn’t think that adding a bit more hot sauce to your noodles would lead to your first fight with Seunghan. After arguing for a few minutes, you both ate in complete silence, not speaking to each other. And the silence continued even after dinner when he drove you home. Even though you weren’t speaking, he didn’t forget to kiss your cheek to say goodbye. It wasn’t until the next day that you spoke to him again. You sent him a message apologizing, explaining that you hadn’t done it on purpose, and inviting him over that evening for some noodles (without hot sauce!).

ᯓ★SOHEE

You always used to have little arguments with Sohee over silly things since you both loved teasing each other. But you never expected that one day you would have a real fight. In just a few seconds, you both were yelling from opposite sides of the room about which song to play while cleaning the house. Even though it was something trivial, sometimes Sohee treated your music tastes as if they were inferior to his, and while it usually didn’t bother you, that day, his comment got under your skin, and you couldn’t help but raise your voice. Hearing you shout, Sohee just looked at you, turned off the music, and started cleaning the house. In the end, neither of you played any of the songs you had suggested, and you ignored each other for more than an hour. But after thinking it over while cleaning, you decided to make him a snack as a way to apologize. You were surprised when you entered the kitchen and saw Sohee doing exactly what you had been planning. You couldn’t help but laugh when you both realized you had thought of the same thing.

ᯓ★ANTON

You were on the couch with Anton, trying to decide which movie to watch that night. The thing was, each of you wanted to watch a completely different movie, and you both flatly refused to watch the one the other suggested. Little by little, without noticing, your voices got louder until you said some things that hurt Anton. He immediately fell silent, becoming completely serious and looking away from you, focusing on the TV instead. "It's okay, put on whatever you want." You couldn’t help but feel bad seeing how Anton reacted, knowing that you had crossed the line with what you said. You looked at him in silence for a few seconds, then leaned in and kissed his lips. Immediately, Anton looked at you, smiling, though trying to hide it. You knew that trick never failed. "I'm sorry, Anton, that’s not what I really meant to say..."

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa @totheseok

#riize #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize sungchan #riize shotaro #riize anton #riize reactions #riize wonbin #riize smau #riize sohee #riize seunghan #riize eunseok #riize fluff #2amriize #riize one shot #riize one shots

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crljhnn · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepy kisses

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x gender-neutral Reader

Summary: You like giving your sleeping boyfriend kisses on the cheek. Your boyfriend likes receiving kisses on the cheek. But then Rodrick gets greedy.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: A bit of conflict but no intense angst

[Posted on AO3 as well]

In your opinion, your boyfriend is just the cutest when he is asleep.

There probably aren't a lot of people that would agree with you on that one. However, in your eyes, his slight drooling and open-mouth snores are just adorable.

Maybe this impression could be explained by the fact, that you both were still in the very early stages of your relationship. Having just made things official a few weeks ago.

That's why you couldn't resist giving Rodrick a small kiss on the cheek or the forehead whenever you found him asleep. Which, now that you think about it, has happened a lot more often in the last few weeks than it used to.

Rodrick was taking a nap after school when he made a great, revolutionary discovery.

You two had plans to hang out that day, so after your extracurriculars were done, you went straight over to the Heffleys' house. A difference you noticed that day, was that you weren't greeted at the door by your boyfriend like usual, but by his mother. After exchanging a few quick pleasantries with Susan you made your way up to his room.

Hearing someone come up the stairs Rodrick woke up. Assuming it was his mom he decided to act like he was still asleep, to avoid whatever chore she came up to assign him. So when he felt the bed dip beside him, created by you sitting down, he was surprised to hear your voice, instead of Susans, greeting him.

He was about to 'wake up‘ when he felt you gently placing a small kiss on his forehead, accompanied by a short gush about how cute he was.

And just like that Rodrick was hooked.

Everyone else calling him cute would have probably set him off, but when it came to you, every tiny compliment made butterflies burst in his stomach. You probably weren't even capable of offending him, even if you tried to.

After throughout research (aka fake sleeping a lot in your company) he came to the conclusion, that you just seemed to like to give him small kisses whenever he was dozing off.

Little did he know, that you were just as willing to give him those when he was awake. All he had to do was ask.

However, Rodrick being the dumb, lovesick puppy he was, decided that the most logical way to make use of this new information was to 'sleep‘ every time you entered a room. That way he would get the most kisses possible.

You on the contrary started to get worried. There seemed to be something wrong with your boyfriend lately. He was sleeping a lot more than usual, and that said something if you are talking about a lazy teenage boy, who even before took at least one nap a day.

Maybe it was a medical issue that caused him to get tired all the time. You hardly ever saw him not asleep. Was he not sleeping at night? Did he struggle with night terrors? Is there a way you can help?

When you first noticed his new sleeping habit, his naps were still limited to the first few minutes after you reached his house. The routine usually went something like that: When you arrived he would be asleep, you would gush a bit about him a little and give him a quick smooch. Then he would wake up about 10 minutes later.

But then it really started to pick up.

You would only leave the room for a short amount of time, for example, to use the bathroom or to get some water. Before, Rodrick always used to do things like getting you something to drink, for you. He was constantly jumping at every opportunity to do something nice. But all of a sudden he stopped. Now, after doing the small task yourself, you would return to find your boyfriend asleep.

And then he started to fall asleep with you right next to him. He would put on a movie or some music, then lay down on his bed or couch, and just minutes later he'd be out.

Another realization you have come to is that you didn't get to hear his soft snores anymore, which you used to adore so much. But that was likely because he didn't reach a deeper sleeping phase, right? That must be the reason, right?

Wrong.

One day you were coming over unannounced and that was when you saw it. While climbing up the stairs to Rodricks room you already called out a greeting, alarming your boyfriend of your presence. Like always, he threw himself straight onto his bed, closing his eyes.

What he hadn't realized, was that you were already able to see him from the position you were at.

And at that moment the self-doubt started. Did he not enjoy being around you? Was this his way of getting out of talking to you? Was he going to break things off?

Your thoughts kept spiraling, convincing you of the most horrible things imaginable. You felt hurt and tears were building up in your eyes embarrassingly fast. You had to sit down.

In the end, you came to the conclusion, that he never actually liked you and probably was making fun of you with his friends all along. Or he fell in love with someone new. Or he just decided one day that you were revolting. That must be it.

While you were drowning in self-doubt, Rodrick was getting impatient. Where was his kiss? Well, he knew he was probably pushing the limits a bit, but come on, that was no excuse for you to deprive him of his precious kisses.

Sneakingly opening one eye, he looked over at you, covering up his movements with a blatant fake yawn, trying to figure out what you were waiting for. What he wasn't anticipating, was to find you looking rather distraught, like you just saw a ghost and were about to start bawling at any moment.

Hastily he scrambles up and reaches for you.

"Baby, what's wrong? Oh my god don't cry, please don't cry." He was panicking. Rodrick had no idea how to comfort you. Now awkwardly petting your head. He was not prepared for this. Should he get his mom? She would surely know what to do. He didn't know how to console someone.

During his inner monologue, you were pulling away from him. "Why don't you like me anymore?" You sounded pathetic but were too upset to care about it right now.

Were you overreacting? Probably. But you're allowed to. Rodrick was your first everything. Your first real crush, your first real boyfriend, the first person you held hands with romantically, and your first kiss. You didn't know how to handle a situation like this, making everything quite overwhelming.

"What?" how the hell did you come up with that? He liked you, liked liked you. "Why would I be with you if I didn't like you? Who put this nonsense in your head? Was it Greg? I swear-"

"It was you! You don't like me anymore. What does your brother have to do with that?"

"Me?" What had he done to give you that impression, 'Come on Rodrick, think'.

"Yeah," sniffle "You don't want to spend time with me. And to think I was concerned for you! I was researching all the possible reasons for you to be so tired all the time. All while you were faking the whole time, solely to get out of hanging out with me! Why didn't you just say it outright? You coward!"

"That's not true!" Rodrick was nervous. How was he supposed to explain the real reason behind it all without making a fool out of himself? "We always still hung out after I woke up, so your theory doesn't even make sense. And I was always actually asleep!"

"That's not true. I literally just saw you throw yourself onto your bed the second you heard my voice."

"I was sleepwalking."

"Rodrick!"

"I wanted to scare you?" He was grasping at straws.

"Oh okay, that explains it all, sorry for the misunderstanding."

"Really? Great. So I was thinking we could- hey what are you doing?" Rodrick stopped in the middle of his sentence when he saw you standing up and crossing his room.

"I'm leaving. I can't force you to tell me the truth, but I also won't be sitting here playing 'happy relationship' with you."

You pulling away was the last thing Rodrick wanted, so he had no other option than, to tell the truth.

"No wait, I'm gonna explain. But it's embarrassing."

You cross your arms, still standing at the top of the stairs, ready to leave but again willing to hear him out.

He had no idea how to start.

„I just- how do I say this, look, you were right, I was fake sleeping.“

Honesty it is.

„Oh wow, I would have never been able to come up with this.“ You were indeed able to come up with this.

„But it was an accident, I swear!“

"Rodrick," You looked exhausted. "How the fuck do you fake sleep on accident?"

"It was an accident! At least the first time."

That doesn't explain much to you. The whole situation was still weird and confusing.

"So you just decided to make it a habit? And why were you fake sleeping in the first place?"

"The first time I had just woken up because I heard someone coming up the stairs. And because I was still in a daze from just taking a nap, I forgot our plans or that you were coming over. At least for a second. So when I heard footsteps I assumed it were my mom's and she was coming to bug me. So to avoid that, I acted like I was still asleep. Then I realized it was you, but before I could say something, you-"

"I?"

"You kissed me. And then I thought if you saw me sleeping again, you would also kiss me again, and you did. So I just continued acting asleep around you." Saying it out loud made him feel kind of ridiculous.

"Crazy suggestion, we are literally in a relationship, why didn't you just, I don't know, ask for a kiss?"

"Just ask?" he didn't believe that to be an option.

"Yeah. Like, 'Hey can I have a kiss?'."

"And then you would have kissed me?" It couldn't be that easy.

"Yeah? And you could also have had real kisses, rather than only ones on the cheek or forehead." Why was this so hard for him to grasp?

"Wow." He was still a mixture of skeptical and mindblown.

"So can we agree that from now on you just ask if you want something from me, instead of making me think you have some disease or lost interest in me?"

He nodded, still having a dazed, stupid look on his face.

"Thank you. And sorry getting so worked up over that."

But Rodrick was hardly listening to you, still stuck on the fact that he could just ask you for a kiss. He was pining over you for way too long, so now he had to sometimes remind himself that you were dating now. He had to try it out to believe it.

"Can I have a kiss?"

"Of course."

You lean over to give Rodrick a quick but sweet kiss.

"It worked, you kissed me."

Your boyfriend is an idiot. A cute idiot though.

#rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fanfic #fluff #oneshot #reader insert #no use of y/n

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xo-hoon · 5 months ago

Text

club nights — DJ p.sh

minors do not interact!

pairing: dj!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to lovers (maybe)

synopsis: you just wanted to unwind after studying hard for your upcoming exams. little did you expect that your quest for relaxation turned into an electrifying connection that left you pleasantly surprised.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: contains smut MDNI! unprotected sex (don’t..), fingering, public sexual interaction, clubbing, intimate dancing, slight alcohol consumption.

You were sprawled on your bed, textbooks and notes scattered around like a battlefield.

You were powering through your study session, knowing full well you'd ace your exams. This was more about keeping the edge sharp than actual worry.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Wonyoung

Wony🐰: big night for jay’s celebration. clubbing’s on us. come on, you deserve a break!

You smirked, your focus momentarily shifting from the textbooks. Before you could reply, Winter’s call came through.

“Y/N, you coming to Jay’s party? It’s gonna be epic. You need to let loose for a bit."

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Just finishing up some stuff first.”

You answered with a casual tone.

Winter chuckled.

“Thought you might say that. See you soon.”

You ended the call and tossed your phone aside, gathered your things with a practiced efficiency, and slipped into your clubbing gear—something that combined effortless style with a hint of rebellion.

The exams were no sweat, but tonight was about embracing the energy and leaving the stress behind.

As you headed out, you knew you’d hit the ground running again tomorrow, but for now, it was time to reclaim the night.

The lights flicker in a chaotic dance with the bass, casting shadows that meld with the crowd's movement. You were nestled in a dimly lit corner, nursing a drink that’s losing its chill. Your friends are lost in the pulsating rhythm on the dance floor, but you're craving something different—something with an edge.

As you watched the swarming sea of bodies, you catch snippets of conversations and laughter. The usual group of guys has wandered over, but their small talk falls flat. They offer nothing but predictable flattery and lackluster charm.

Your gaze sweeps through the crowd until it landed on the DJ.

He was almost surreal, his features striking and chiseled as if crafted by divine hands. The way he commands the decks, lost in the rhythm, makes him look effortlessly magnetic. Every movement is fluid and intense, and there’s an undeniable allure about him that keeps your eyes locked on him.

But despite your fascination, you held back from approaching. You’ve always been the one to stay aloof, letting others make the first move.

Tonight, you were determined to stick to that principle.

If he’s interested, he’ll have to find a way to chase you—because that's how things have always worked for you.

You spent the night there, stealing glances at him from time to time. You knew right then and there that you wanted him.

—

Over the past few weeks, you've returned to this exact club every night, disregarding your exams because you knew you'd ace them anyway.

The club was throbbing with energy as usual, and you were nestled in your favorite corner, watching the DJ work his magic at the booth. The music feels particularly electrifying, and your focus remains unwaveringly on him. A mix of curiosity and desire simmers beneath your cool exterior.

As the night wears on, a sober friend of a friend, someone you’ve seen around but never spoken to, strikes up a conversation with you. He was a regular and seems to know everything about the club’s inner workings.

After a few exchanged pleasantries and a bit of small talk, he leans in conspiratorially, as if sharing a well-kept secret.

“You know,” he says with a smirk, nodding toward the DJ booth, “that guy up there? His name is Park Sunghoon. He’s not just some random DJ. He’s actually loaded. His family’s got more money than they know what to do with.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he continues, “He’s got this whole other life. Runs a bunch of businesses and everything. But he’s here every night, spinning records because he genuinely loves it. He’s quite famous around here; definitely one of the best assets of this club. And despite the fact that girls are practically falling over themselves for him, he couldn’t care less. It’s like he’s got this whole detached cool thing going on. Makes him even more interesting, don’t you think?”

You were taken aback, sensing that he’s aware of your interest. “So, why does he stick around here if he’s got all that?”

The informant’s smirk widens, as if he’s been waiting for you to ask.

“Well, it’s obvious you’ve been keeping an eye on him. I figured you’d want to know. He sticks around because this is his sanctuary. No one bothers him about business or family here.”

You nod, feeling a mix of surprise and satisfaction at his perceptiveness. “Sounds like he’s got a lot more going on.”

“Exactly,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with knowing. “And he’s not one for easy connections. If you want to get to know him, you’ll have to bring something real to the table. He’s not impressed by the usual attempts.”

The revelation hits you with a jolt of excitement. The fact that Sunghoon is both wealthy and dedicated to his craft, combined with his indifference to the attention he gets, only deepens the intrigue you feel.

You thanked your informant with a nod, and he headed off, leaving you to process this new layer of mystery surrounding Sunghoon.

As the night progressed, you watched him with renewed interest. His effortless charisma and the way he immerses himself in his music take on a new significance. There’s a sense of challenge now, a question of whether you can penetrate the cool facade and discover what lies beneath.

The Next Night

You were at the club again, drink in hand, the familiar beat of the music pulsing through the air. The night is set for its usual course: you’re in your favorite corner, eyes fixed on Sunghoon at the DJ booth. It’s become a bit of a routine for you—an exercise in patience and subtlety.

Tonight, you were ready for what you have expected. To be just another night of silently sending your unspoken message: “Fuck me.”

You figured if you stared hard enough, he might have somehow pick up on it. It’s a game you’ve gotten used to, even if it seemed a little ridiculous. You were so focused on him until a guy approached you.

The guy was tall and confident, his smile effortlessly charming. "Hey there. Care for a dance?"

Normally, you’d turn a man down without a second thought, but tonight, you were feeling a bit adventurous. You considered the offer, a spark of curiosity piqued by the idea of doing something different. With a playful smile, you sat your drink down and nodded.

“Sure,” you said, rising from your seat. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As you headed towards the dance floor, you stole one last glance at Sunghoon, who was focused on his turntables but would glance at your way occasionally.

You wondered if he noticed your change in routine. The night just might turned out to be more interesting than you’d anticipated.

The music is pulsating, and the crowd is moving in sync with the beats. As you start dancing, you make sure to catch Sunghoon’s eye, knowing he was watching.

You danced seductively, grinding and moving in intimate ways with the guy, all the while keeping Sunghoon in your peripheral vision. The guy seems to enjoy the attention but notices your focus elsewhere.

As you were dancing, you felt a presence behind you. The guy you were dancing with seemed to have sensed it too and steps aside, giving way to the new arrival.

And there he was. The famous Park Sunghoon emerges from the crowd, his gaze locked on you with a smirk.

He approached with purpose, his confidence radiating.

"Mind if I cut in?" Sunghoon’s voice was deep and smooth, and you can hear the hint of a challenge in it.

You turned to face him, your heart racing. "Not at all," you replied, flashing him a flirtatious smile.

Sunghoon took the guy’s place, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you close. The intensity between you two is palpable, and you can feel the heat of his body against yours.

"You’ve been coming here a lot," Sunghoon murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hmm, I have my reasons."

"Really? And what might that reason be?" Sunghoon asks, his voice low and intrigued.

You teased, "You'll have to find out."

Sunghoon's smile widens, and he pulled you even closer. The music faded into the background as you focused solely on each other. His hands were firm but gentle on your body, guiding you as you moved to the beat. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and you can feel the passion building.

"So, what made you decide to come back here night after night?" Sunghoon asked, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shivered at his touch, your voice barely a whisper. "I’m seeing someone."

"Someone like me?" he probed, his tone both teasing and serious.

"Maybe," you replied with a playful smile. "Or maybe someone who makes me feel this way."

Sunghoon's eyes darkened with desire as he looked at you. "And what is that feeling?"

You met his gaze, your voice steady but filled with longing. "Excited. Alive. Wet. Like I can’t get enough."

Sunghoon’s fingers traced a path down your side, sending shivers through you. "You’re making it hard for me to keep my distance."

You leaned closer, your lips almost touching his ear. "Then don’t."

The dance floor seems to blur around you as you lose yourself in the moment. Sunghoon's touch is electrifying, and you can feel the heat between you growing stronger. The music was pulsing around you, creating a perfect backdrop for the connection you're building.

After a few more songs, Sunghoon took your hand and guided you through the crowd, out of the club and into the cool night air. The contrast between the stifling heat of the club and the crispness of the night is refreshing.

You walked in silence for a moment, the adrenaline from the dance still coursing through your veins.

Sunghoon led you to a quieter, darker alleyway behind the club, away from prying eyes. The city's sounds faded as you stepped into the shadows, and he turned to face you. The intensity in his eyes was palpable, and you felt the electric charge between you.

He pressed you against the wall, his lips crashing onto yours in a fiery kiss. The urgency and passion of his touch took your breath away, and you responded eagerly, your hands exploring his body as his hands finds their way to your curves. Every touch, every kiss is a whirlwind of sensation, and you lost yourself in the moment.

Sunghoon’s hands slid under your dress, and you gasped as he found the sensitive spots that made you shiver. Your moans were muffled by his mouth as he kissed you deeply, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you.

His touch was both rough and tender, igniting a fire within you. You can feel his desire growing, and it heightens your own.

He lifted you slightly, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. The alleyway’s cold walls press against your back, but the warmth of his body and the intensity of his touch creates a cocoon of heat around you. The world outside seems distant and irrelevant; it's just the two of you and the throbbing beat of your hearts.

He pulled back slightly, making you slightly groan at the lack of closeness, his breath mingling with yours. His gaze is full of raw emotion, and you saw the hunger in his eyes.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

You smiled, your voice a soft purr. “That’s the idea.”

With renewed passion, Sunghoon's hands grew bolder as they roamed over your body, starting from your legs and moving up to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

The touch elicited a soft whimper from you, a sound that made his eyes darken with desire. Taking advantage of the moment, he plunged his tongue into your mouth, exploring it thoroughly and claiming it as his own.

He lifted on of your legs off the ground, securing your waist in a possessive grip as he pressed your body tightly against his.

Your fingers traced a slow, tantalizing path from his neck down to his broad chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles under your fingertips. They continued their journey to his defined abs, each touch sending shivers of excitement through you.

Just as you were about to reach for his clothed cock, his hand shot out to stop you, and with a swift, controlled movement, he pinned both your hands above your head, holding them there firmly.

“Fuck… Not so fast, baby.” He whispered in your mouth as you looked up at him, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. His eyes were dark and filled with desire.

“S-sunghoon.. please—“ He smirked at the sight of your neediness.

“Shh, let me handle this.” He lowered his head, trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a blazing trail of heat in his wake. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his, craving more of his touch.

His other hand roamed over your body, exploring every curve and inch of your exposed skin that he could, making you even needier and wetter than you already were.

“Sunghoon… Please. I need you.” He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Patience, baby. Good things come from those who wait.”

His lips captured yours once again, and this time the kiss was sloppy and even more intense, filled with a hunger that leaves you breathless. He releases your hands, and you immediately tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

“I can’t wait anymore.”

“I know, baby.” He whispered against your lips.

With that, he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carries you to a more secluded area of the club, where the lights are dim and the music is just a distant thrum. He sets you down on a couch, his body pressing against yours.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked genuinely, you locked your eyes with his as you nodded.

“I have never been more sure,”

Sunghoon groaned at your response as his hands roam over your body again, this time more urgent, more demanding.

He slips his hand under your dress, fingers teasing the edge of your panties.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He stared in to your eyes, his hand slipping inside your panties, fingers finding your most sensitive spot. You moan into his mouth, your body arching into his touch.

He continued to rub circles on your clit, thoroughly enjoying the expression you were giving him. You moved your hand to his, pushing his fingers deeper, indicating that you wanted him to give you more.

“So, so needy,” he murmured, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and desire. He leaned in, licking your earlobes before slipping two fingers inside you.

The sudden intrusion made you moan out loud, arching your back as waves of pleasure coursed through your body.

“Fuck,” you breathed into his ear, your voice trembling with need. You began to grind your hips, matching the rhythm of his fingers. Each thrust of his hand sent shivers down your spine, making you crave more.

“Fuck me now, please. I want your cock inside me. Fuck me hard.”

He smirked against your neck, his fingers pumping in and out of you faster, curling just right to hit that perfect spot inside you.

“You want it that badly, huh?” he teased, his voice a low, seductive growl.

You could only nod frantically, your body desperate for more. “Yes, Sunghoon. Please,” you begged, your hips bucking against his hand. “I need you. Make me yours.”

His eyes darkened with lust as he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and yearning. He quickly undid his pants, freeing his hard length. You glanced down, your eyes widening at the sight of him.

Without another word, he positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you a bit by rubbing his tip against your wet folds. The sensation made you whimper, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he demanded, his eyes locking onto yours.

“I want you so fucking,” you gasped, your voice almost a plea. “I want you to fuck me hard, fuck me until I go dumb.”

With a groan, he thrust into you inch by inch, slowly filling you completely. The fullness made you cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his skin.

Without letting you savor the moment of his cock deep inside you, he started to move in a rough, fast pace, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy through your body, making you roll your eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, your moans and his grunts blending with the pounding music in the background.

“God, you feel so good,” he panted, his lips crashing onto yours in a heated kiss. “So tight, so perfectly made for my cock.”

You could only moan in response, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. You matched his rhythm, meeting each of his powerful thrusts with equal fervor. The pressure built up inside you, threatening to explode.

“Sunghoon, I’m gonna—” you managed to gasp out, your body trembling on the edge of release.

“Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “Cum all over my cock.”

With one more thrust, you shattered, your orgasm ripping through you. Your walls clenched around him in intense pleasure, making him moan.

Sunghoon continued thrusting into you, riding out his own high. Still sensitive from your release, the overwhelming pleasure made you moan on the top of your lungs and cling to him tightly.

"I'm cumming, baby," he groaned. With one final, powerful thrust, he poured his hot release into your tight, convulsing heat, filling you completely.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you panting and spent. After a moment, he lifted his head, looking down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“You were amazing,” He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"That was... incredible," you say, your voice still shaky with emotion.

Sunghoon chuckles softly, pulling you close again. "It really was. We should do this more often, and maybe you might consider going on a date with me.”

You smile, feeling a new connection with him. "A date? With that Park Sunghoon? I’d like that."

As you walked back to busy area of the club, hand in hand, you were filled with excitement and anticipation for what comes next. The night has just begun, and you can't wait to see where this new connection with Sunghoon will lead.

#enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enha sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon #park sunghoon imagines #smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fanfic #smut imagine #smut fanfiction

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iluvmattsbeard · 6 months ago

Text

that look in your eyes (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smut/p in v/oral (male receiving)/unprotected sex/facial/strong language/drinking

preview: the tension between you and Matt was strong. with just one look into your eyes, he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore, leading the both of you to release the tension.

*not proof read*

a/n: finally wrote. matt been turning me on more than usual and this song stuck in my head. listen as you read.

it was a Saturday night in LA, the music was blasting loud and the environment was filled with a mixture of emotions. with people laughing while having fun, shit faced, or neutral. like Matt, who was sitting on the sofa with his brothers. Chris was mainly talking as usual with a few other people near by. Nick and Tara were laughing and gossiping like they always do. you were suddenly brought into the conversation, which caught Matt’s ears.

“is she here yet?” Tara asks over the music. “not yet! but, she’ll be here soon.” Nick responds, typing on his phone. everyone knew about the situation between you and Matt. the situation as in, wanting more with each other but haven’t given in. it was complicated, the two of you. you both have an undeniable connection but, no one has budged. the attraction between the two of you was obvious but, it was like you both were in denial. maybe it was the fact you both are very secluded with your feelings or the fact you both didn’t want to be either of the first to say something.

moments later, Nick and Tara land their eyes on you, making Tara gasp loudly, standing up to walk over to you. “Y/n! you made it.” she says looking at you up and down with admiration, “you’re outfit is everything!” you smile and hug her as you respond to her comment, “thank you! i wasn’t sure what to wear but, i appreciate it. you look gorgeous as ever.” Tara waves her hand in front of her with a smile, “oh stop it! come, me and Nick have been waiting!” she says pulling you to the group of people.

as you walk over, Matt’s eyes immediately land on you, roaming them over your body that was nicely fitted in your revealing dress. he shifts in his spot as he continues to eye you. “hi guys. sorry i’m late.” you say, hugging Nick and Chris. “you look so good Y/n!” Nick says rubbing your back softly. you pull away and smile, “you do too!” you compliment back before looking down at Matt in front of you. “you not going to say hi to me?” you say jokingly with a small grin.

Matt rolls his eyes playfully and stands up, embracing you, “well you were too busy giving my brothers the attention.” he whispers. you let out a small laugh and pull away to look at him, “oh be quiet. you’re over here doing nothing, you could’ve been the first to say hi.” you respond. Matt shrugs playfully and sits back down. you turn around to Tara handing you a cup, “here! let’s get you started.” she says. you take the cup and swirl it around slightly, “cheers!” Tara adds on as everyone clinks their cups together.

as the night grows more loud, you were sitting across Matt as you talk to Nick and Tara the whole night. as Nick speaks, you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes on you. you look around slightly before you meet eyes with Matt who was leaned back in his seat, legs spread a bit, as he takes a sip of his drink, his gaze intense. as you hold the gaze, you mimic his actions, taking a sip of your drink as you swallow, licking your lips slightly. in the inside, Matt was burning with desire. he wanted nothing more than to get you alone. he leans forward, steal keeping eye contact, as he places the cup down on the table.

you watch his every move as he gets up and walks away, your eyes following him, slightly confused. “Y/n? are you listening?” your thoughts were interrupted by Tara’s question. you quickly look at her, “yes, sorry. kind of hard to keep up with the atmosphere.” you say letting out a small laugh. you suddenly feel your phone vibrate, making you pick it up and stare at the screen.

Matt

‘meet me in front of the bathroom?’

you swallow and look at Tara and Nick, “i’m going to go to the bathroom real quick.” you say. they both nod as you get up and make your way through the crowd. as soon as you step in front of the bathroom, you look around to try and find Matt but, he was no where to be seen. so you send him a text.

Y/n

‘where you at?’

immediately, the bathroom opens, having Matt pull you inside. you were caught off guard as you watch him close the door shut, locking it. the bathroom light was slightly dim as he lock eyes with you once again, like earlier. it was silent as you both hold the gaze. the tension was strong, you both had the urge to reach out to one another but, it was like there was a barrier stopping you two. Matt’s eyes start to linger as he lets out a small breath, “this tension between us…” he whispers, “i can’t handle it anymore.” he finishes.

the smell of your perfume intoxicates his nose, the way the dress hugged your hips, and the way your lips were naturally plump drove him absolutely insane. his eyes didn’t lie, it was like he was begging you to give in. “what are you going to do about it?” you whisper with sultry. it didn’t take him long to break the distance and pull you in by the hips slowly, “whatever you want me to do.” he whispers back with a hint of seduction. your lips begin to inch closer and closer as he whispers, looking at your lips, “i can’t take it no more.” with that, he connects his lips with yours, his movements eager and desperate.

you feel his hands roam down your lower back as you lay your one hand on his cheek, and the other in his hair. his tongue explores your mouth, making you moan slightly against him. he pushes you against the wall, gripping your hips a little harder as he deepens the kiss. he suddenly pulls away and attaches his lips to your neck, making you gasp as you feel him suck on your sweet spot. “fuck…” you whisper. he hums slightly as he continues to kiss your neck.

you push him away slightly, your breathing slightly uneven, his as well. you move the both of you, him now against the wall as you slowly get down on your knees, looking up at him as you do. your gaze strong as you begin to unbuckle his belt, and unbutton his jeans. “is this what you want?” you whisper, teasingly playing with the hem of his jeans. he nods and swallows as you smile, pulling down his jeans with his boxers. his dick springs out slightly as your eyes meet his throbbing tip.

you kiss his tip teasingly, looking up at him as he shivers slightly, “don’t tease…” he groans quietly. you hum against his tip, pretending to act clueless. you watch his expression, he was needy. you swirl your tongue around his tip painfully slow as he holds up his shirt, clenching it slightly. he then used his other hand to push you down his dick. your eyes widening slightly but you couldn’t resist. you bob your head up and down his length as he throws his head back slowly, his eyes shutting from the pleasure.

“fuck baby… just like that.” he moans out breathlessly. you look up at him, enjoying the way you’re making him act in this moment. you speed up your movements making him lose control. his facial expression falters, crumbling under your touch. you felt your core getting more hot. the noises he was making, it was music to your ears.

he suddenly pushes you away, picking you up, placing you on the sink counter. “i need to feel you.” he whispers, lifting your dress up. you look into his eyes, the heat between your legs aching for him. Matt’s fingers meet with your thin fabric, pulling them down quickly. he attaches his lips back onto yours as you kiss back eagerly. you feel him rub his tip against your folds, making you whine against his lips, “p-please Matt.” your voice shaking slightly. “please what baby?” he whispers.

“please fuck me Matt.” you whine out desperately. he chuckles, “yeah it isn’t so nice being teased huh?” he whispers still rubbing his tip up and down your entrance. “you basically were teasing me all night. now look at you, so wet for me.” he adds on. your eyes look up at him, still pleading, “please…” he leans you back a bit as he pushes inside of you, stretching you out. your eyes roll back slowly, “h-holy shit…” you moan out. he wasted no time picking up the pace, his tip hitting your g spot with every thrust. “f-fuck…” he mutters out, “taking my dick so good.” he rests his hand on your neck, gripping it slightly, as he continues his rough movements.

“s-so fucking good.” you moan loudly as you grip his wrist. this is what you both needed. finally releasing the sexual tension between the two of you. the bathroom was filled with the noises between your skins slapping against each other, with the moans and groans escaping both your lips. he places his forehead against yours as he holds the back of your neck, “you’re doing so good.” he groans, his thrusts not slowing down. you gasp slightly with each powerful thrust, your nails digging into his shoulder.

“Matt i’m going to-.” you whine out but he cuts you off, “go ahead pretty girl. let go for me.” he whispers lowly. you feel the knot in your stomach snap as you moan loudly, bucking your hips slightly as you release. this makes Matt reach his climax faster, groaning pulling out. he removed you from the counter, placing you on your knees as he tugs on his dick above your face.

you look up at him as your eyes plead for his load. he looks down at you, his mouth slightly open as he groans at the sight of you. he moves closer to your face as he shoots his cum all over your face. you shut your eyes and smile slightly. you both then hear someone knock on the door, “Y/n? are you in there? are you okay?” you hear Nick ask. you open your eyes and look up at Matt, his chest still heaving up and down from his climax. you lick your lips slightly, “yeah! i’ll be right out!” you shout through the door as you keep eye contact with Matt.

Matt lets out a soft chuckle as he takes in the sight of you in front of him. “who’s in there with you?” Nick asks. “uh…” you say a little stuck but Matt chimes in, “she’ll be out Nick.” your eyes widen and you both can hear Nick gag, “oh great!” making you laugh nervously.

a/n: just a short post. since i haven’t posted a fic in over month. sorry!

tag list

@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nickgetsmewetter @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @adirtylittleheart @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks @viasworldsstuff @c6ina

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themultifanshipper · 6 months ago

Note

Hi I love your writing!!Could you maybe do the 🟡 prompt from your list with Oscar. I’m thinking maybe a female driver reader enemies to lovers kind of situation but it is really up to you

Thanks💜

You and Oscar didn't usually find yourselves battling on track, because you didn't usually qualify close to each other. But this time… this time you had locked out the front row at your home race, and it was going to be a blood bath.

Warnings: hate sex, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, the usual really, although I find the ending surprisingly fluffy for me but oh well, also Oscar is kind of a dick in this ngl, also Bestfriend!Lando bc I cannot seperate them even in fiction

Requested from my prompt list

Obviously this was a fight you refused to lose. You were in front of your home crowd, qualifying p2 behind your teammate for one of the rare times your car hadn't failed you half way through qualifying.

These days you felt like you were driving a fucking Williams.

Anyway, the lights went out and for the next hour and a half the cameras did not leave you two for even a second, the battle for p1 being so intense. You'd lost count of how many times you had overtaken each other, and both of you had damage. Part of your front wing was missing, your DRS was glitching, and Oscar had floor damage. Both of you were too stubborn to come into the pits so you kept going despite your engineers' orders, and on the last corner of the last lap, you brake checked Oscar.

You don't even remember doing it. All you remember is the crowd roaring your name as the McLaren crew lifted you out of your seat and carried you over their heads chanting the song they had affectionately dubbed yours.

“She's a maniac, maniac on the floor! And she's driving like she never has before!”

You remember the podium ceremony, Lando had overtaken Oscar thanks to you and was spraying you in the face from his p2 spot, as Oscar scowled and sprayed Zak, who stood off to the side, ready to give you two a stern talking to after the ceremony.

You remember being yelled at in his office. Something about him smoothing it over with the stewards so that you didn't get a penalty at your home race, at which point Oscar also started yelling, at Zak, at you, and at the unfairness of it all.

You remember going out to a club with Lando, the heavy bass of the music (and the alcohol) transporting you to another realm of existence as you danced together.

It's when you'd had one two many tequila shots (courtesy of Lando's fat bank account) that you thought it would be a good idea to call Oscar.

Unfortunately for him, he answered.

“Hello? Why the fuck are you calling me at two in the morning? Has something happened? Is Lando in a coma? No? Then don't fucking call me”

And with that he hung up on you. So you rang again, not one for giving up so easily.

“For the love of Christ, WHAT?!”

“Oscar! Why aren't you out celebrating your podium?” you said loudly over the music.

“Yeah Oscar I miss partying with youuuuu” Lando whined into the phone over your shoulder.

“Fucking leave me alone!” Oscar shouted, and he hung up again, but even though the club was loud, you definitely heard his voice crack.

So you and Lando had the marvelous idea to go to his hotel (you were staying at your own place, with Lando, it being your home race) and knock on his door. And he opened it to the sight of you and Lando clinging onto each other for dear life.

“Fucking hell you two look like shit, what have you been doing?” his eyes roamed your figures, staying a bit too long on yours, and on your ridiculous dress (picked by Lando of course) that probably exposed more of you than it covered.

The two of you barged into his room and sat on his bed. While he just stared you down.

“Well?... what the fuck do you want?” he scowled.

“We came to ask why you're moping here instead of celebrating your podium with us” Lando pouted.

“What is there to celebrate? You-” he pointed at you “ruined my race by making a dangerous move. I'm not celebrating a fucking p3 when I would have won fair and square!”

You and Lando looked at each other, which was a mistake, because you immediately started giggling uncontrollably.

“GET OUT!” Oscar shouted louder than you'd ever heard him, and Lando immediately ran for the door.

Mopey grumbling Oscar was hilarious, but you'd come to find that furious Oscar was downright terrifying when he needed to be.

You weren't scared though, you'd always found angry Oscar incredibly hot, and right now you'd had enough alcohol to make sure you couldn't run even if you tried.

The furious expression on his face as he stared you down did make you squirm though, and your thighs clenched together involuntarily.

His eyes were drawn to the movement, quickly scanning the expanse of your bare thighs before snapping back up to your face and taking a step towards you.

"Well?! Anything to say for yourself? A fucking apology perhaps? Or even just a reason as to why you're still sitting on my bed in that slutty excuse of a dress instead of running away like Lando?”

You were outraged at his words. How dare he say that.

“How fucking dare you!” you managed to stand up on wobbly legs to shove him backwards. Unsurprisingly he didn't move an inch. “This dress is perfectly fine! It's a club dress!”

“Oh please! It's indecent, I can almost see your-”

“SECONDLY!” you interrupted before he could finish that particular sentence, the thought of him actually seeing you so exposed slightly overwhelming you “I didn't run away because I’m not fucking scared of a dickhead like you!”

He stepped closer to you, so close that if he extended his arm he could touch you if he wanted to. His eyebrows were lost in his hairline, and there was a fire in his eyes you had rarely seen there before, as he shook with rage.

“If you’re not scared of me then why are you trembling like a fucking leaf? Is it because you're cold in that pathetic excuse of an outfit?”

“You seem awfully focused on my dress for someone who claims to be so nonchalant” you purred, stepping closer.

“Fuck you.” he scowled.

“Ooh is that a proposition?” you smirked, your bodies were almost touching now.

“Careful, don't get too cocky, I'm obviously not as easy for it as you” he spat, eyes darting down to where goosebumps had risen over the exposed skin of your breasts.

“How could I not get cocky?” you leaned in close to whisper “I'm the one who got a first place trophy a few hours ago…” and with that, you pushed past him and started walking towards the door.

But just before you could grab the handle, you were pushed flat against the door roughly and you gasped as Oscar growled in your ear.

“Fuck you, and fuck your trophy, and fuck this fucking dress!”

He wasted no time spinning you around and slamming you back against the door, plastering himself against your body and slotting a thigh between yours, forcing you to spread your legs for him.

“This dress is going to be useless by the time I’m fucking done with you”

You were reduced to a puddle of mush as his hands ripped the flimsy fabric, flinging it across the room and his mouth immediately went to your tits, mouthing over them and groaning into the skin. One of his hands went up to grab your hair and the other grabbed your ass hard enough to leave bruises. He tensed his thigh as you grinded on it shamelessly, whimpering as the friction of his jeans felt like heaven against your barely covered cunt.

His mouth went up to your neck, licking and sucking the skin it found in it's path before pausing and looking at you, his eyes hooded and mouth gasping for air as he panted into your mouth.

“I’m going to make you pay for the race, sweetheart, I'm going to fucking ruin you.”

And ruin you he did. Your body was on fire, your thighs were fucking soaked, and Oscar had you arched into the bed, ass up in the air as he pounded into you while holding your head up to look at yourself in the mirror that was facing the bed.

You looked like sin personified, makeup running down your face, drool and tears making a mess of the sheets as yet another orgasm wracked through your body.

He pulled out and turned you over, spreading your legs, weeping cunt on display for him.

He moaned at the sight of your used body, marks and bruises blooming all over it.

“Fuck you're so perfect for me, I can't get enough of this pussy” he slid his tip through your slit a couple of times, just enough to make you start begging again, before sliding back in to the hilt. “Fuck- begging so perfect for me when you're not running your mouth” he growled before pounding into you mercilessly and rubbed the meat of his palm over your clit. The friction was too much as your hands flew to his shoulders and your nails dug in, making him groan as his pace faltered and he grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head.

His face hovered inches above yours, sweat dripping off him onto you as he pounded into you for all he was worth.

“Too much…” you gasped “Osc, I can't”

“Shhhhh baby, you can do one more for me, I know you can.”

He kissed you, much too soft in comparison to how he was railing you into next week. And he kissed away the tears on your cheeks as his hand let your wrists go in favour of wrapping his arms around you to lift you up into his lap, deepening the angle of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure.

He buried his head in your shoulder as he rolled his hips, fingers going back to play with your clit as you writhed above him.

“Oscar fuck… So deep… I’m so close, fuck don't stop!” You wrapped your arms around him as you finally kissed him without thinking, making him groan into your mouth as his hips never faltered.

He wouldn't dream of stopping, he’d been waiting for this moment a long time, and now that he had you, he was going to do everything he could to keep you.

“Come for me love, come on my cock, good girl…” he panted into your mouth.

It was like a volcano erupting as you came around him. You clamped down hard around his cock and it threw him over the edge as well, biting into the meat of your shoulder, so deep he could almost taste blood. You gasped and your hips bucked into his gently as you both rode the waves of your highs together.

Once the two of you regained a sense of where you were, wrapped in each other’s arms and covered in sweat, you just looked at each other, neither of you knowing what to say.

Daylight was already filtering in through the blinds and for the first time, you noticed the dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks.

Neither of you wanted to let go, despite supposedly being bitter rivals. The two of you surged forwards at the same time and his lips were soft against yours as you clung to each other, hands grasping every piece of flesh they could reach. And you didn't let go until the sun was well and truly up, and Oscar ignored the calls from the team to say they were going to leave without him if he didn't get there soon.

“Stay with me for a few days?” You whispered into his neck as you lay under the covers with him.

“Okay” he kissed the top of your head sleepily, drifting off after an intense race weekend (wink wink).

You checked your phone for messages, only seeing one from Lando.

‘Do I even need to ask where you slept last night?’

Despite the obvious bait from your best friend, you decided to reply:

“Nope... but fyi I haven't actually slept at all ;) ’

You turned your phone off, and snuggled back under the covers with Oscar, who was already snoring softly behind you.

#my thots #oscar thots #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #f1 #formula 1 #op81 #request #ask

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ginxyy · 1 month ago

Text

Years in the Making

(A bit of a long one. Smut with a plot. New to smut so let me know if you like it)

You remember that night as if it were painted in vivid strokes across a canvas, every detail burned into your memory. The laughter, the music, the fleeting touches of a friendship that had danced dangerously close to something more. Dinner with Mingyu and the rest of Seventeen felt electric, a swirl of familiarity and something that lingered just beneath the surface. Bottles of laughter were passed around like shared secrets, and you could feel the warmth of the candles flickering on the table, casting shadows of admiration and longing.

You sat opposite Mingyu, your eyes occasionally meeting his, where unspoken words swirled like whispers in the air. You had danced around this connection for years always caring, always loving each other deeper than the simple words could express, yet choosing to date others, stepping into relationships that never quite felt right. It was as if you both held the pieces of a puzzle and were too stubborn to fit them together.

As the night went on, encouragement was all around you. You exchanged playful banter with Seungcheol, who sat beside you, his presence warm and inviting. With a confident grin, he leaned closer, brushing his shoulder against yours. In a moment of defiance, perhaps a moment to provoke the invisible boundaries, you decided to flirt just a little more than usual. “You know, Seungcheol,” you said, your voice teasing, “I’ve always thought your smile could light up the entire room. You should definitely use it more often.”

The laughter chimed louder, Mingyu’s gaze narrowing just slightly, insecurity threading its way through him. You caught his eye, hoping to read the thoughts behind those intense dark orbs, but he quickly looked away. There was a stigma here the ritualistic dance of disguising affection with indifference. The atmosphere grew thick with tension what was supposed to be playful, innocent fun had turned into a game neither of you had wanted to play.

Mingyu, unable to tolerate the lighthearted exchange any longer, finally slid his chair back and stood abruptly. You glanced up in shock, your heart racing as he walked away, muttering heatedly under his breath. You hadn’t meant to hurt him, to rock the boat that had remained steady despite all the waves crashing against your relationship. But you sensed disturbance in the air as he trudged toward Vernon, his best friend, seeking solace in his wisdom.

“Why does she always do this?” Mingyu complained, the frustration palpable in his voice. “Why does she pick someone who isn’t me?”

Vernon shrugged, only half-listening, the warmth in his eyes betraying a knowing smile. “Maybe you should just confess to her, Mingyu. But then again, it’s easy to be brave with advice, isn’t it?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the exchange as you slipped away, enticed by the prospect of snacks in the kitchen. Each step felt heavy with a mix of guilt and exhaustion. But time passed, and you lost yourself in the charm of the room, the glimmering lights, the laughter floating around you. Seungcheol unhurriedly followed, stepping into the kitchen just as you reached for a bag of chips.

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk, the sort that could hug you in warmth even when he was just a few feet away. You laughed, turning to face him, feeling a mischievous spark ignite within. Inexplicably drawn to the moment, you found yourself flirting deeper, tilting your head up, saying something cheeky, something that would have made Mingyu’s heart race.

And then, as if scripted from a movie, you leaned in Seungcheol’s lips met yours in swift collision. The heat and intensity enveloped you like a fever. It was a rush, a whirlwind of rebellious energy, one you’d yearned for in some capacity, even if it was wrong. But amidst that thrill, the sound of the kitchen door swung open with a familiar creak, a sound that held an icy intensity.

Mingyu's figure stood in the doorway, shadows of anguish dancing across his features, disbelief etched in every line of his face. Regret surged through you as you pulled away from Seungcheol, the spark extinguished in an instant when you met Mingyu's heartbroken eyes. He took a step back, his breaths shallow and pained, before turning and exiting into the night, leaving you with only the ghost of the stolen moment lingering in the air.

The distant echo of what had transpired haunted you for weeks afterward. Days melted into one another filled with an undeniable emptiness. Text messages were silenced, and phone calls went unanswered. The weight of what you had witnessed and the absence of Mingyu dissolved your spirit.

Then one night, as moonlight bathed your room in ethereal glow, a sound broke the silence a quiet knocking at your door. Your heart raced as you opened it, revealing Mingyu, his eyes glistening with vulnerability and despair. He fell to his knees, the overwhelming sorrow spilling out as he hugged your legs, like a child longing for a sense of safety.

“I love you,” he blurted, voice trembling as if the confession itself held the burden of years. “I will always love you. Just pick me. Please.” The intensity in his gaze filled with an urgency that stripped you of everything but truth.

Hearing those words brought a torrent of emotions rushing through you, tears swelling in your eyes as you sank down to him. You held his face in your hands, fingers trembling as you caressed his cheeks. “Mingyu, I have always loved you,” you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. The weight found its release in that moment, and tears fell freely as you pulled him closer. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

Mingyu’s breath hitched as your words sank into him, the tremor of your confession igniting something raw and uncontainable within his soul. His hands, trembling but sure, cupped your face with a tender ferocity, his thumbs brushing away the tears that streaked your cheeks. “Say it again,” he whispered, voice cracking with vulnerability as his forehead pressed against yours. “Please… I need to hear it again.”

You looked deep into his eyes, the pain and longing of years swirling within them, and your heart broke for how long you both had suffered in silence. “I’ve always loved you, Mingyu. It’s you. It’s always been you. And it always will be.”

The air between you shifted, electric and heady, as his lips crashed onto yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His kiss was fire and desperation, years of restraint finally breaking free. You clung to him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Mingyu groaned against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you and stirring something primal.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you,” he muttered between heated kisses, his voice filled with both anguish and relief. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, the wet press of his kisses sending shivers down your spine. Your breaths came fast and shallow, every touch setting your skin ablaze.

“Mingyu…” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer, and it only seemed to drive him further. His grip on you tightened, strong and unwavering as he hoisted you up effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and he carried you toward your room as though the rest of the world had fallen away.

He pushed the door open with his foot, and the soft moonlight spilling through the window bathed the room in a silvery glow. Mingyu set you down gently on the bed, his dark eyes blazing with intensity as he hovered over you. “I love you,” he said again, his voice thick with emotion as his hands caressed your face, then slid down your arms. “I’ve always loved you. Even when it hurt, even when I thought I had no chance… it was always you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but they were tears of release, of joy. You reached up to him, pulling him down until your lips met once more, this time softer, sweeter, though no less passionate. The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you as his in a way that left no doubt of his devotion.

Mingyu’s hands roamed, exploring every curve of your body as if memorizing you for the first time. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and when his lips broke from yours, they trailed down your neck and collarbone, leaving a blazing path in their wake. His voice, low and gravelly, sent heat pooling in your core. “Tell me this is real,” he begged. “Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“It’s real,” you assured him, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he leaned down, his weight a comforting presence against you. “It’s us. Finally. It’s us.”

The tension between you snapped, and there was no going back. Mingyu’s hands slid under your shirt, his touch igniting your skin as he peeled the fabric away, leaving you bare to him. He took a moment to simply look at you, his gaze reverent and filled with wonder. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice almost breaking.

His lips were on you again, his kisses growing more fervent, more demanding. The heat between you was unbearable, and you arched into him, craving his touch, his love, his everything. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in a rush, and the feel of his warm skin against yours made you gasp.

“Mingyu,” you moaned, the sound spurring him on as his kisses became deeper, needier. His hands explored every inch of you, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he couldn’t get enough. He groaned your name, the sound guttural and raw, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll always pick you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with conviction. “Always, Mingyu. It’s only ever been you.”

That was all it took for him to lose whatever semblance of control he had left. Mingyu’s kisses grew more urgent, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between them. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice a litany of devotion as he claimed your lips once more. “I’ll prove it to you, every day, every second, for the rest of my life.”

And as the night unfolded, it was filled with whispered promises, searing kisses, and the overwhelming warmth of finally, finally being with the person you were always meant to be with.

Mingyu’s lips moved against yours with a fervor that spoke of years of restraint finally shattering, his hands exploring every curve of your body with a reverence that sent shivers racing across your skin. His touch was hot, possessive, but filled with an unspoken tenderness that melted you into him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, each word vibrating through your body. “How many nights I’ve dreamed about you, about us. You’re everything, and I’m done pretending.”

His mouth descended to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before his tongue soothed the spot, leaving you gasping. His large hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the evidence of his desire pressing into you, hard and unrelenting.

“Mingyu…” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as his kisses traveled lower, down your collarbone, and further still, igniting a fire in their wake.

“I love the way you say my name,” he groaned, his lips pausing just above your heart. “Say it again. Let me hear it.”

“Mingyu,” you moaned, your back arching as his mouth found your skin once more, his teeth and tongue working in tandem to claim you, mark you, adore you. His hands were everywhere trailing up your sides, sliding down your thighs his touch firm yet impossibly gentle, as if he was savoring every moment.

“You’re so perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Every inch of you. I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long. You have no idea what you do to me.”

He pulled away just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and blazing with desire. “Let me make you feel good,” he rasped, his thumb brushing over your lips. “Let me give you everything.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on you again, his kisses growing more heated, more desperate. His hands slid down to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking underneath as he began to tug them down. You lifted your hips instinctively, your breath hitching as the cool air met your heated skin.

Mingyu’s gaze dropped, his eyes drinking you in like you were the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. “God, you’re stunning,” he breathed, his voice trembling with awe. “I’ve imagined this so many times, but nothing comes close to the real thing.”

He pressed a trail of kisses down your stomach, his lips lingering on every inch of exposed skin, his hands caressing your thighs with an intensity that left you trembling. When his mouth hovered just above where you needed him most, you let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you, Mingyu. Please.”

“That’s my girl,” he said with a wicked grin, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “I’ll take care of you, baby. Just relax.”

And then his mouth was on you, his tongue sweeping over you with a precision that made your entire body jolt. A broken moan escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with a skill that left you breathless.

“So sweet,” he groaned against you, his voice muffled. “I could stay here forever. You taste like heaven, baby. All mine. You’re all mine.”

He alternated between slow, languid strokes and quick, focused flicks, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as your hips bucked against him. The combination of his tongue and the low, constant rumble of his voice was enough to drive you to the edge.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against you between strokes. “Falling apart for me. Just me. God, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me how it feels, baby. Tell me how much you need me.”

“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as waves of pleasure coursed through you. “I need you, Mingyu. I—oh my God—don’t stop.”

His fingers joined the fray, sliding into you with an ease that made your head spin. His touch was firm, deliberate, curling just right as his tongue continued its relentless assault. The combination was devastating, your body tightening as the pressure built higher and higher.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice rough with desire. “Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart. I want to hear every single sound you make. God, you’re so perfect.”

You shattered beneath him, a cry ripping from your throat as your body arched off the bed, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Mingyu didn’t stop, drawing out your release with steady, deliberate movements, his voice a constant stream of praise and adoration.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, his tone filled with pride. “So beautiful. So perfect. I could watch you like this forever.”

As the waves of pleasure subsided, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left no doubt of his love, his devotion, his hunger.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered against your lips, his voice trembling. “And I’m not done with you yet.”

The night was far from over, and you both knew it. Years of longing, of frustration, of unspoken love had finally been unleashed, and there was no holding back now.

Mingyu hovered over you, his body pressed against yours, his skin warm and slick from the heat of the moment. His kisses grew hungrier, more demanding, as though he needed to consume every ounce of you, to erase the years of distance that had kept you apart. His lips trailed down your jaw and neck, his hands exploring your body like he was memorizing every curve, every soft gasp you made under his touch.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your skin, his voice low and rough, laced with possessive desire. His teeth grazed your collarbone, followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered, breathless, your hands clutching his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. “Always.”

“That’s right,” he muttered, his mouth moving to your ear, his voice dark and commanding. “Only mine. No one else gets to see you like this. No one else gets to touch you, to hear you like this. Just me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, heat pooling low in your belly as his lips returned to yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with an intensity that left you gasping. One of his hands slid down your body, slipping between your thighs once more, his fingers finding your most sensitive spot with ease.

“You’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his lips brushing against yours as his fingers moved with purpose. “So perfect. I could make you come like this all night, baby. You’d let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me keep you here, falling apart for me over and over.”

“Mingyu,” you whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, your body chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided. “Please…”

“Please what?” he teased, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you need, baby. I’ll give you anything. Everything.”

“You,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as his fingers worked you closer to the edge. “I need you, Mingyu. Please. I can’t I need you inside me.”

He groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours as he removed his hand, his fingers glistening with your slick. He brought them to his mouth, his dark eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slowly over his fingers. “You taste so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I could live off you, baby. You drive me crazy.”

He shifted, lining himself up with you, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider beneath him. His gaze softened for a moment, a hint of vulnerability breaking through the intensity. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with love. “I need you to be sure, baby. I don’t think I could stop.”

“I’m sure,” you said, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I want you, Mingyu. I need you.”

That was all he needed. He pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he stretched you around him. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fullness that had you moaning his name, your nails raking down his back.

“Fuck, baby,” he gritted out, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he bottomed out inside you. “You’re so tight, so perfect. Made for me. Only me.”

He started moving, his pace slow and deliberate at first, his hips rolling in a way that had you seeing stars. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, leaving you gasping for air.

“That’s it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of sweetness and filth. “Take me, baby. Take all of me. You’re so good for me, so perfect. I’ll never get enough of you.”

His pace quickened, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you against him with each thrust, his control slipping as he lost himself in you.

“I want you to come for me,” he groaned, his voice strained as he pushed you closer to the edge. “I want to feel you fall apart around me. Let me have it, baby. Let me feel how good I make you feel.”

You were helpless to resist him, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer as you shattered around him, your walls clenching tightly as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you.

“That’s it,” he rasped, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. “God, you’re incredible. I love you so much. I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Make you mine in every way.”

His hand slid down to where your bodies were joined, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and circling it with precision. “Give me one more,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “One more, baby. I know you can. Let go for me.”

You cried out as he pushed you over the edge again, your body trembling as another orgasm crashed through you. The sensation of him moving inside you, the filthy, loving words spilling from his lips, was too much to bear.

Mingyu groaned loudly, his hips snapping against yours one final time as he came, his release filling you with warmth. He buried his face in your neck, his breaths ragged as he whispered, “That’s it, baby. Take it all. God, you’re perfect.”

He pulled back slightly, his hand coming to rest on your stomach as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with adoration. “I want this,” he said softly, his voice still hoarse from exertion. “I want us. A family. You carrying my baby, us building a life together. I want it all with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, tears pricking your eyes as you reached up to cup his face. “I want that too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I want everything with you, Mingyu.”

He smiled, his expression softening as he leaned down to kiss you, slow and tender. “Good,” he murmured against your lips. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

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