#thought I might as well do the interest check to see if this was gonna be possible to organize before I brought the idea to her next week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lacethighs · 11 days ago

Text

undercover dancer

dean winchester x reader

synopsis while working a case with the winchester, you go undercover at a strip club to track down a siren, but things don’t go as planned.

warnings mdni, porn with plot? (pwp), oral sex (m rec.), missionary, pet names (sweetheart, baby), fem reader, breeding kink (if you squint), light d/s dynamic, no use of y/n.

word count 6.5k

working a case with the winchesters meant long nights, bad coffee, and sifting through endless lore. the three of you were holed up in a rundown motel, buried in research about sirens. three men had murdered their wives, all while insisting they were in happy, loving relationships. something wasn’t adding up.

sam had bobby on speakerphone as the older hunter explained an old piece of folklore—sirens could be killed with a bronze dagger dipped in the blood of one of their victims.

“alright, thanks, bobby. we’ll call if we need anything else,” sam said, snapping his phone shut.

you sighed, leaning back in your chair across from him. “okay, but how exactly are we supposed to get the blood of an infected victim?”

sam thought for a moment before suggesting that the doctor who performed the autopsies might still have blood samples from the victims.

as the boys geared up, putting on their usual fbi disguises, you made no move to change. noticing this, dean shot you a look. “what? you’re just gonna sit this one out?”

“no,” you replied smoothly, standing up and grabbing a duffel bag from under the bed. “while you two are handling that, i’m going to see if i can get a lead on who the siren might be.”

sam and dean exchanged confused glances but didn’t question it. they had learned to trust your methods—even if they didn’t always understand them.

as soon as they left, you dug through your bag, pulling out a dark red costume. undercover work had its perks, but being a woman in the hunting business often meant playing into certain expectations. and right now, that meant infiltrating the strip club where you suspected the siren was hiding.

after a quick shower, you grabbed a fresh razor and got to work. if you were going to sell this, you had to look the part. you remembered the club owner’s strict policy—pretty faces and smooth bodies only.

once you were done, you pulled out your small cosmetic kit and carefully applied your makeup, matching it to the deep red of your outfit. a final swipe of lip gloss and a touch of glitter later, you gave yourself a once-over in the motel’s long mirror.

damn. you looked like an expensive stripper.

the two-piece outfit was a dark red sequined swimsuit, just a size too small, leaving very little to the imagination. perfect.

packing a change of clothes and slipping a pair of heels into your duffel, you hopped into your camaro and drove to the club.

pulling into the back lot, you wrapped yourself in a long trench coat and slipped inside through the rear entrance. in the changing room, you stashed your bag, swapped your boots for heels, and took a moment to observe the other women.

they moved in and out, chatting and adjusting their outfits, but none of them immediately screamed “siren.” the only clue you had was that sirens tended to work alone.

you adjusted your stance, getting used to the ridiculous height of your heels. with one last check in the dingy mirror, you stepped out onto the club floor.

the heavy bass of electronic house music pounded in your chest, the flashing led lights momentarily disorienting. you focused, forcing yourself to move with the rhythm, blending in as you made your way toward the bar.

“well, aren’t you something,” a voice drawled behind you.

you turned, slipping effortlessly into character, flashing a sultry smile as you took in the man eyeing you. mid-forties, salt-and-pepper beard, expensive watch—if you weren’t here on a case, you might have been a little more interested.

smirking, you sauntered closer, batting your eyelashes. “what can i do for you tonight, handsome?”

“how about something special?” his voice dipped, gaze never leaving your body. “one of those private rooms in the back?”

shit.

if you left the main floor, you’d risk losing sight of your real target. you needed a way out of this—fast.

glancing around, you spotted the upstairs balcony overlooking the club. if you could get him up there, at least you’d still have a vantage point.

“i don’t have all night, sweetheart,” the man said impatiently, waving a wad of cash. “you want this or not?”

plastering on a flirtatious smile, you grabbed his hand and led him toward the stairs. he chuckled behind you. “aren’t you an eager thing?”

this was probably a bad idea.

as you reached the top, your attention flicked to a nearby table where two men in suits sat across from each other. the back of one of their heads looked disturbingly familiar. short hair, slightly spiked—no way.

then you heard it. that familiar gravelly voice, thick with a kansas drawl.

dean.

what the hell was he doing here?

panic kicked in. you needed to get past him before he saw you in this very compromising outfit. you picked up the pace, walking past as quickly as you could.

just when you thought you were in the clear—

a low whistle pierced the air.

fuck.

the whistle came from dean.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you could’ve kept walking. you should’ve kept walking. just pretend you didn’t hear it. play dumb, keep moving, disappear into the back rooms before this whole thing spiraled into something worse.

but, of course, the man you were leading had to open his damn mouth.

“hell of a body, huh?” he slurred, clearly buzzed and feeling bold. “bet she’s worth every damn penny.”

your stomach dropped, then it got so much worse.

“hey, buddy,” the man continued, elbowing dean like they were old friends. “why don’t you come with me? we can both get a little taste.”

you clenched your jaw. this fucking guy. not only was he disgusting, but now he was trying to bring dean into this?

“hey, sweetheart!” he called, motioning for you to come back. “c’mon, don’t be shy now.”

you stayed still, facing away from the table, hoping—praying—that dean would just ignore him. maybe he hadn’t recognized you. maybe he was just reacting to the fact that you looked wildly out of place in a club like this.

maybe pigs could fly.

because you felt dean’s eyes burning into your back, and you knew—this was about to happen.

your breath hitched as you forced yourself to turn around.

and the second your gaze met dean’s, his jaw literally dropped.

eyes wide, mouth hanging open, pure shock written all over his face. like he’d just been smacked in the head with a crowbar.

you saw the exact moment realization hit. the way his gaze flickered down—taking in the too-small, blood-red sequined outfit, the heels, the sheer ridiculousness of what you were wearing—before snapping back up to your face.

his lips parted, but no words came out. just a stunned, incredulous stare, like his brain had short-circuited and he couldn’t even begin to process what he was seeing.

you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

dean winchester—your hunting partner, your friend, the guy you spent way too much time with—was seeing you like this.

and he wasn’t looking away. dean blinked. once. twice. then his jaw clenched

in dean’s mind, this was not what he expected when you said you were going to get a lead on the siren.

a lead? sure. maybe some surveillance, some questioning—hell, even some light flirting to get information if needed. but this?

his brain had completely short-circuited.

for a few crucial seconds, he forgot where he was. forgot the case, the siren, the fact that there was a real fbi agent sitting across from him. forgot that he was supposed to be an fbi agent, too.

because fbi agent dean winchester wasn’t supposed to know a stripper.

you weren’t supposed to know him.

you were just two strangers existing in the same space—passing glances, exchanging pleasantries, nothing more. that’s what this cover was supposed to be.

but instead, you were standing there, looking like that, and dean was sitting here, looking at you.

the noise of the club, the flashing lights, the pulsing music—it all blurred in the background. the only thing in sharp focus was you.

and then, of course, the drunk asshole had to make it worse.

“so, what do ya say, man?” he gestured sloppily between you and dean, slurring his words. “you in or what?”

dean blinked, jaw tightening.

this guy had no idea. no idea that the woman he was treating like an object was actually a badass hunter who could take him down in a heartbeat. no idea that dean wasn’t some random customer, but someone who knew exactly what you looked like covered in blood and sweat, tearing through monsters like it was second nature.

but more than anything, he had no idea how much dean didn’t want to share you with him.

dean finally closed his mouth, schooling his face into something more neutral. his grip tightened around the glass in his hand, but he forced out a smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“tempting,” he said, voice low, edged with something dangerous. “but i think i’ll pass.”

he saw the way your shoulders subtly relaxed, the way your fingers twitched like you were seconds from reaching for a weapon you weren’t carrying.

the guy huffed, shaking his head. “your loss.” then he turned back to you, giving you a sleazy grin. “guess it’s just you and me, sweetheart.”

dean barely restrained himself from breaking the guy’s nose.

this was a case. you were undercover. you had a job to do.

but damn if dean didn’t want to burn this whole place down just to get you out of here.

after that incredibly unfortunate turn of events, you decided to call it a night.

you led your drunk, handsy gentleman away from prying eyes, coaxing him into a quieter, less crowded hallway. the second you were sure no one was watching, you turned on your heel and decked him—one solid punch right to the jaw.

he crumpled like a sack of potatoes.

rolling your shoulders, you exhaled sharply and stepped over his unconscious body. he’d wake up with a hell of a headache and probably no memory of what happened. good. you didn’t have the patience for anything else.

when you walked back onto the main floor, you instinctively glanced toward where dean had been sitting—only to find his chair empty.

of course.

you didn’t have the energy to deal with that right now.

navigating through the club, you made your way back to the dressing room, grabbed your trench coat, and threw it over yourself. no time to change. you just wanted to get out of here and back to the motel.

enough undercover work for one night.

but as soon as you stepped outside into the cool night air and headed toward your car, you stopped dead in your tracks.

because parked right in front of your camaro, like a goddamn roadblock, was the impala.

and leaning against it, arms crossed, expression unreadable, was dean. there he stood—still in that goddamn suit, still looking good as ever.

the neon lights from the club flickered against his face, casting sharp shadows across his jaw. he was staring straight at you, and even from a distance, you could feel the weight of it.

yeah. you definitely weren’t getting out of this conversation.

you wished you could just ignore him, pretend you didn’t see him, slip into your camaro, and drive the hell away from this whole mess.

but dean obviously had different plans.

his arms were still crossed, his stance casual, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he was watching you. his sharp green eyes followed every step you took, unreadable yet intense.

you swallowed hard and kept walking, forcing yourself to act like you weren’t dying inside from sheer embarrassment. maybe if you just made it to your car door without saying anything—

“hey, sweetheart,” dean called, voice smooth but edged with something else.

you closed your eyes briefly, exhaling through your nose.

slowly, you turned to face him, plastering on your best unimpressed look. “you waiting for someone, winchester?”

dean huffed out something between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “yeah. you.”

of course.

you shifted your weight, gripping the edges of your coat a little tighter. “well, you found me. so what do you want?”

dean pushed off the impala, stepping closer—just enough to make your pulse spike. he tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was trying to piece together.

“what the hell was that back there?” his voice was low, curious, but definitely not amused.

you lifted a brow. “i was working the case.”

dean’s jaw ticked. “that’s what we’re calling it?”

you crossed your arms. “got a problem with it?”

he scoffed, looking away for a second before his eyes flicked back to yours. “yeah, i got a problem with it. watching you prance around in that getup, having some drunk asshole treat you like—” he cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “what the hell were you thinking?”

you rolled your eyes. “i was thinking that someone had to actually get close enough to find the siren. and considering i didn’t see you shaking your ass in sequins, it had to be me.”

dean made a face, clearly not a fan of that mental image. “damn it, you know that’s not what i mean.”

you shrugged, pretending like your stomach wasn’t twisting at how tense he was. “relax, dean. i had it under control.”

dean let out a humorless laugh. “oh yeah? looked real under control when that guy was trying to buy a damn two-for-one special.”

you bristled but kept your face neutral. “i handled it.”

dean stared at you for a long moment, jaw still tight. then, finally, he shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

your lips twitched. “that sounds like a you problem.”

dean exhaled, then gave you that look—the one that always made your chest tighten. a mix of exasperation, concern, and something else. something you didn’t have the guts to name.

“get in the car,” he muttered, nodding toward the impala.

you frowned. “i have my own car—”

“yeah, and it’s staying here.” dean’s voice left no room for argument. “you’re riding with me.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the glare he shot you made you shut it just as quickly.

fine. whatever. if it got you out of this conversation faster, you’d deal with it.

sighing, you walked past him, letting him open the passenger door for you. you didn’t miss the way his gaze flickered over you again, how his fingers twitched like he wanted to do something but held himself back.

you slid into the seat, crossing your arms as dean shut the door behind you.

as he walked around to the driver’s side, one thought ran through your mind—

this was not how you expected tonight to go.

the car ride was quiet.

the tension, while still there, had stopped being suffocating, allowing you to relax a little. you leaned into the familiar comfort of the impala, the soft hum of the engine settling something in your chest.

which meant, unfortunately, you forgot what you were wearing underneath your trench coat.

as you shifted in your seat, adjusting yourself for a more comfortable position, the movement caused the coat to gape open slightly, revealing slivers of bare skin and dark red sequins.

dean only glanced over at first, probably just checking why you were moving—

but then he saw.

his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

a quick flash of your thighs, the curve of your waist, and the unmistakable shimmer of the too-small, too-revealing getup you still had on underneath.

dean immediately snapped his gaze back to the road, jaw clenching so tight it could crack a molar.

but it was too late.

because now the image was burned into his mind.

you, in that tiny outfit, all legs and soft skin, sitting right there next to him like it was no big deal. like it wasn’t driving him insane.

he exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders like it would somehow shake the thought loose.

you didn’t seem to notice his sudden shift in posture, too caught up in getting comfortable. you adjusted again, crossing one leg over the other, which caused the coat to part just a little more—

dean did not look.

he was not looking.

he was absolutely not going to look.

but then the impala hit a small bump in the road, jostling you slightly—and out of sheer reflex, his eyes flicked over.

fucking hell.

he gritted his teeth, forcing his focus forward. “jesus, could you—?” he cut himself off, inhaling sharply. “do you wanna maybe, i don’t know, close that thing?” he flicked a pointed glance at your coat, then back at the road like his life depended on it.

you blinked, glancing down—and finally realized what he was talking about.

oh.

a slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. “my bad,” you said innocently, making zero effort to fix it.

dean shot you a look. “not funny.”

you bit your lip, suppressing a laugh. “kinda funny.”

“not funny,” he repeated, gripping the wheel tighter. “you’re gonna give me a damn heart attack.”

you chuckled, finally tugging the coat closed—not out of modesty, but because you were pretty sure dean was about three seconds away from swerving off the road.

“relax, winchester,” you teased. “it’s not like you haven’t seen a woman in less before.”

dean made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a strangled groan. “yeah, well, i don’t usually have to drive them back to a motel after watching them hustle some drunk asshole in a damn strip club.”

you snorted. “please. like you weren’t enjoying the view.”

dean didn’t say anything.

didn’t even look at you.

and that was interesting.

your smirk widened. “oh my god,” you drawled. “you were enjoying the view.”

dean clenched his jaw, eyes locked on the road. “you done?”

you hummed, pretending to think. “not really.”

“too bad.”

you laughed, finally letting it go—for now.

dean just exhaled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was his life.

and for the rest of the ride, he did not look over again.

finally.

for dean, the ride was over. they made it to the motel.

he could get away from you and that damn outfit without feeling like he was losing his goddamn mind.

but you? oh, you were not letting it go.

stepping inside, you took a quick scan of the room. no sam. he was still off doing whatever research he had gotten sucked into, which meant it was just you and dean.

perfect.

you kicked off those ridiculous heels with a sigh of relief, shrinking down several inches in the process, and tossed your duffle bag onto the bed. dean did the same, loosening the tie on his suit with a grumble, ready to just shower this night off and forget it ever happened.

but then he looked up—

and oh, god.

you were shrugging off your trench coat.

right in front of him.

and you weren’t doing it quickly, like someone exhausted after a long night.

no.

you were doing it slowly.

tantalizingly.

dean didn’t know if that was just his brain making it seem like slow motion, or if you were actually torturing him on purpose—

but oh, god.

the way the coat slipped from your shoulders, revealing the smooth stretch of your skin, the way the deep red sequins shimmered against the cheap motel lighting—

dean felt like he’d been hit with something.

his mouth went dry. his brain stopped working.

all he could do was stare.

and you knew.

he could see it in the tiny smirk playing at your lips, the way you tossed your coat onto the bed like this was all totally normal. like you weren’t standing there, still in that tiny little outfit, acting like you didn’t just completely wreck him.

dean swallowed hard, forcing himself to snap out of it. he turned away quickly, scrubbing a hand down his face, trying to gather whatever frayed pieces of self-control he had left.

“you are killing me,” he muttered under his breath.

you laughed, low and amused. “something wrong, winchester?”

dean let out a humorless scoff, not daring to look at you again. “yeah. you.”

you just grinned. “aw, poor baby.”

dean clenched his jaw, staring very intently at the wall.

this was not how he expected his night to go.

especially when you were right there, looking at him like that—like you knew exactly what you were doing to him?

when his eyes couldn’t help but drink you in, no matter how hard he tried to not look?

that stupid, stupid red sequined outfit stretched over the swell of your breasts, hugging every curve, glinting under the dim motel lights like it was taunting him.

the bottoms—if they could even be considered bottoms—barely hid anything. just thin strips of fabric teasingly covering your most intimate parts, leaving long lines of bare skin on display.

dean was screwed.

his jaw was locked so tight it ached. his fingers twitched at his sides, itching to do something—grab you, touch you, tear that damn outfit off just to put an end to this torture.

but he didn’t move.

didn’t say a word.

because if he did, if he let himself react at all, there was no coming back from it.

you tilted your head slightly, watching him with amusement, curiosity, and something dangerous.

“you keep looking at me like that, dean,” you mused, voice dripping with mischief, “people might start to think you actually want me.”

dean exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his gaze to the floor, the wall—anywhere but you.

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” his voice came out rougher than he intended.

you stepped closer—too close. close enough that he could feel your body heat, smell the faint traces of perfume and sweat lingering on your skin.

“not when i’m having this much fun,” you admitted with a smirk.

dean clenched his fists.

he had two choices.

get the hell out of this room right now—

or finally give in.

of course he gave in. one second, he was standing there, fists clenched, trying so damn hard to hold himself back.

the next, his lips crashed against yours, hungry, desperate, like he’d been starving for this and just now realized how badly he needed it.

you gasped softly against his mouth, but you weren’t surprised. not really. you knew exactly what you were doing, how to push him just far enough until he snapped—and now, here he was, grabbing onto you like he’d lose his mind if he didn’t.

his hands found your waist, rough fingers gripping tight as he pulled you against him. the thin sequined fabric did little to separate the heat of his body from yours, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

you barely had a second to breathe before he was kissing you deeper, tongue sliding against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip like he was trying to devour you.

and god, you loved it.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging slightly just to hear that low, frustrated growl rumble from his chest. his hands slid lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, and before you could even process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

“fucking tease,” he muttered against your lips, walking you toward the bed with no hesitation.

you smirked, breathless. “took you long enough.”

dean let out a low, dark chuckle.

“oh, sweetheart,” he rasped, voice thick with want as he dropped you onto the mattress, climbing over you with a dangerous glint in his eyes—

“you have no idea what you just started.”

your hands roamed over dean’s suit-clad body, feeling the heat beneath the fabric, the tension coiled tight in his muscles.

you pulled him closer by his tie, tugging just enough to make him groan against your lips. his weight pressed into you, his body solid and strong, like he was trying to get as close as physically possible—like even that wouldn’t be enough.

his big, calloused hands slid down your sides, rough fingers trailing fire along your bare skin until they found the thin ties of your bottoms.

with practiced ease, he tugged at the delicate knots, the flimsy fabric loosening instantly. his lips never left yours, too caught up in the way you felt, the way you gasped softly when the last knot came undone.

meanwhile, you worked fast to undo your top, the sequined fabric falling away as your fingers fumbled at the clasp.

dean pulled back just enough to look down at you, his pupils blown wide, his expression dark and unreadable.

“jesus,” he muttered, voice rough, like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

you smirked, reaching up to tug at his tie again. “took you long enough, winchester.”

dean’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl.

“you’re gonna regret saying that,” he warned, voice dripping with promise.

and then he kissed you again—harder, deeper, like he was determined to make up for every second he’d spent holding back.

separating to catch your breath, your chest heaved as you watched dean make quick work of his clothes.

and god, was he a sight.

his toned stomach, the ridges of muscle shifting with every movement, the broad expanse of his chest—every inch of him was built for this. his strong arms flexed as he tossed his shirt aside, and for a second, you were too distracted to do anything but stare.

dean smirked, catching the way your lips parted, your eyes dark with something between hunger and awe.

“like what ya see, sweetheart?” he teased, his voice dripping with cocky amusement.

you swallowed hard, dragging your gaze up to meet his, refusing to give him the satisfaction of flustering you—even if you were absolutely drooling inside.

with a smirk of your own, you tilted your head and let your fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the solid muscle beneath.

“i don’t know,” you mused, lips curling as you leaned up, voice dropping into something sultry, “guess i’ll have to touch to be sure.”

dean let out a low chuckle, but the way his breath hitched when your hands slid lower?

he wasn’t laughing anymore.

your hand trailed lower, teasing, until your palm pressed against the hard length straining through his unbuttoned trousers.

dean sucked in a breath, his body tensing under your touch. his head tilted back slightly, jaw clenched, as if he was trying to keep himself from completely falling apart right then and there.

“fuck,” he muttered, voice rough, gravelly, like the word had been dragged out of him.

you smirked, feeling the way he twitched under your touch, the heat of him even through the fabric.

god, you had to feel him inside your mouth.

with slow, deliberate movements, you slid off the bed, sinking to your knees before him. your fingers made quick work of his zipper, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough to free him, and fuck.

dean winchester was big.

your mouth practically watered at the sight, your fingers wrapping around his thick length, giving him an experimental stroke.

dean let out a low, wrecked groan, his hands automatically flying to your hair, his fingers curling at the roots as if he needed something to hold onto.

“jesus christ,” he muttered, looking down at you with blown pupils, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths.

you just smirked up at him, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip before licking a slow, deliberate stripe up his length, making sure to keep eye contact the whole time.

“fuck,” he cursed again, his grip in your hair tightening slightly. “you’re gonna kill me, sweetheart.”

you only hummed in response, lips parting as you finally took him into your mouth—

and dean completely lost it.

his hands flew to your hair, fingers threading through the strands as he held on—not forcing, just holding, like he needed the anchor while you worked him over with that sinful mouth of yours.

dean’s head fell back for a moment, eyes squeezed shut as a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, looking back down at you, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the way your head bobbed up and down at a steady rhythm.

the slick, filthy sounds of you gagging on his cock filled the room, mixing with his grunts and sharp exhales.

“jesus—look at you,” he muttered, breathless, his grip tightening just a little when you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him even deeper. “taking me so fuckin’ good.”

your eyes flickered up to meet his, glossy and dazed, and that—that look on your face, the way you were so eager, so desperate to take all of him—had him teetering on the edge.

“shit,” he groaned, one of his hands trailing down to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin in contrast to how filthy this all was. “goddamn mouth of yours—feels so fuckin’ good, baby.”

you hummed at the praise, sending vibrations through his length, and that—that nearly broke him.

“oh, fuck,” he growled, hips jerking slightly despite himself. “keep that up, and i’m not gonna last, sweetheart.”

but that only made you want it more.

so you sucked harder, hollowed your cheeks even more, letting him feel every inch of your tongue, every bit of heat and wetness—

and dean absolutely wrecked.

before he could finish, dean suddenly jerked you off his cock, a slick pop sounding as he pulled free from your mouth. his chest heaved, pupils blown wide, lips parted in a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“shit,” he muttered, breathing heavy as he cupped your jaw, wiping away a bit of spit from your swollen lips with his thumb. “as much as i wanna come down that pretty throat of yours, i need to feel you first.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling deep in your stomach.

dean didn’t give you time to process before he hauled you up effortlessly, his hands gripping your hips as he practically tossed you onto the bed.

you barely had time to gasp before he was on you—pressing you down into the mattress, kissing you deep, his tongue sliding against yours like he was trying to devour you.

his hands roamed your body, squeezing, exploring, before settling between your thighs. his fingers teased at your slick folds, making you whimper against his lips.

“fuck, you’re soaked,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through your wetness before pressing one thick digit inside. “was sucking me off that good for you, sweetheart?”

you whined, hips bucking into his touch, gripping at his shoulders. “dean, please—”

he chuckled darkly, adding another finger, stretching you slightly as he watched you, drinking in the way you squirmed. “oh, i got you, baby,” he rasped, voice thick with promise. “gonna give you exactly what you need.”

and with that, he lined himself up, teasing the tip against your entrance—

then thrust inside, burying himself to the hilt in one slow, deep stroke.

dean was relentless.

his hips snapped against yours, the sheer force of each thrust making the bed creak beneath you. his grip on your hips was tight, holding you down, keeping you exactly where he wanted—like he needed to keep you in place while he fucked you deep.

“fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, jaw clenched, eyes locked onto where your bodies met. “so goddamn tight—taking me so fuckin’ good.”

the stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way, and all you could do was moan, gripping onto his arms, his back, anything to ground yourself.

then—he shifted.

one of his hands dragged down your leg, rough fingers tracing your skin before he hooked it over his shoulder, pressing in even deeper.

“oh, fuck—” you cried out, back arching as he hit that new angle, that devastatingly perfect spot that had your vision going white.

dean felt the way you clenched around him, heard the way his name spilled from your lips in a wrecked, breathless moan—and he lost it.

“that’s it,” he growled, his pace somehow getting rougher, each thrust harder, deeper, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. “this what you wanted, huh? needed me to fuck you like this?”

you could barely form words, too lost in the blinding pleasure.

“dean—please—!”

he grunted, leaning down, pressing his forehead against yours even as he kept up his punishing rhythm.

“i got you, baby,” he panted, voice rough, lips brushing against yours. “not stopping ‘til you come all over my cock.”

one of dean’s calloused fingers dragged down your body, rough and deliberate, until it found your achingly sensitive clit.

a sharp cry tore from your throat as he pressed down, rubbing slow, teasing circles that contrasted the relentless snap of his hips. the combination had your entire body trembling, pleasure winding tighter and tighter inside you, coiling like a spring ready to snap.

“that’s it,” dean groaned, watching your every reaction like a man possessed, his finger working you over with precision. “so fuckin’ perfect—gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

you were already there, so close you could taste it, every thrust, every roll of his fingers sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“dean— oh my god—” you gasped, gripping onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

he growled at that, his rhythm stuttering for half a second before he doubled down—hips slamming into you, fingers rubbing tighter, faster, overwhelming you with everything.

“come on, baby,” he panted, lips brushing your ear. “let me feel it—let go for me.”

and then—you snapped.

your orgasm ripped through you, body arching, legs shaking, a desperate, wrecked moan of his name spilling from your lips as waves of white-hot pleasure crashed over you.

dean groaned at the feeling, the way you clenched down so tight around him, the way your body trembled beneath him, and it sent him tumbling right after you.

“fuck— fuck,” he choked out, burying himself deep as he came, his own release spilling inside you as he gasped your name like a prayer.

dean slowly pulled out, a low groan leaving his lips as he watched the way your body trembled beneath him. his eyes darkened when he saw the mess he made—his release spilling out of your wrecked little hole, glistening against your flushed skin.

his smirk was downright wicked as he dragged two fingers through the slick mess, gathering up every drop before pressing them right back inside you, pushing deep, so slow.

“don’t want it going to waste, do we, sweetheart?” his voice was gravelly, teasing, full of satisfaction as he watched you squirm, still sensitive and wrecked from your orgasm.

a whimper slipped from your lips, your overstimulated walls fluttering around his fingers as he gently fucked them into you, as if he owned you—like he could still feel every aftershock running through your body.

“fuck, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your thigh, his breath hot against your skin. “look so damn pretty like this. completely fucked out.”

he finally pulled his fingers free, but not before bringing them up to his lips, smirking as he licked them clean, groaning low in his throat.

“taste so fucking sweet.”

dean’s smirk softened as he took in the sight of you—your body still trembling slightly, chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. your skin was flushed, glowing in the dim motel light, and fuck, if you weren’t the prettiest damn thing he’d ever seen.

but as much as he loved seeing you like this, spent and wrecked from him, he also knew you needed him now just as much as before—just in a different way.

with a deep breath, he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before slipping off the bed.

“be right back, sweetheart,” he murmured.

you barely had the energy to respond, only humming in acknowledgment as you stretched across the sheets, already feeling the exhaustion settle in.

dean moved around the room quietly, grabbing one of his clean shirts and a warm, damp washcloth before returning to your side.

“hey, baby,” he said softly, brushing your hair back before running the cloth between your thighs, being so careful, so gentle as he cleaned you up. “still with me?”

“mhm,” you mumbled, sighing at the warmth of his touch.

once he was sure you were all cleaned up, he tossed the cloth aside and helped you into his shirt, the fabric drowning you, but he couldn’t help but grin at the way you looked in it.

“there we go,” he murmured, pulling the blankets over you before sliding in beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart was soothing, his body warm and solid against you.

“you good?” he asked, voice softer now, rough edges smoothed over with something gentler.

you nodded, nuzzling into his neck. “yeah… ‘m good.”

dean pressed a kiss to your temple, rubbing slow circles into your back.

“get some sleep, sweetheart,” he whispered. “i got you.”

just as you were getting comfortable, wrapped up in dean’s warmth, the motel door slammed open, making both of you jolt.

“what the hell—” dean started, reaching for the gun under his pillow, but then—

“where the hell have the two of you been?!”

it was sam.

standing in the doorway, pissed, arms crossed, eyes darting between the both of you—dean half-naked under the blankets, you drowning in one of his shirts, curled up against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your face burned.

“uh…” you started, scrambling for some kind of excuse, but what could you even say?

dean, ever the smooth talker, just cleared his throat and smirked, stretching an arm behind his head. “y’know, sammy… you could’ve knocked.”

sam’s expression darkened. “are you—? oh, come on!” he rubbed a hand down his face, looking genuinely distressed. “i’ve been out chasing a damn siren while you two were—” he gestured wildly. “—doing this?!”

you bit your lip, shrinking under his glare, but dean?

dean just grinned. “hey, don’t get all worked up, man. we got plenty done tonight.”

“yeah, i bet you did,” sam deadpanned.

the silence was painfully awkward.

finally, sam just let out a long, exhausted sigh and muttered, “i don’t even wanna know.” he turned on his heel, grumbling something under his breath as he walked to his bed, clearly done with both of you.

you and dean exchanged glances before cracking up, muffling your laughter into the blankets as sam shot you both a glare.

“idiots,” he muttered, flopping down onto his bed. “absolute idiots.”

still grinning, dean pulled you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “totally worth it,” he whispered.

and honestly?

yeah. it was.

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester smut #x reader #fanfic #fan fiction

699 notes · View notes

wonderjanga · 4 months ago

Text

Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #batman #bruce wayne

778 notes · View notes

vibelladonna · 12 days ago

Text

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝑔𝑒𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Here we go again—since my most popular fanfic just happens to be about kinks, I might as well keep feeding the masses, right?

Kinks, round two, featuring the second-best guys, really the first-best guys in my opinion in the TKATB fandom. You know, the ones everyone secretly (or not-so-secretly) wants to romance but, unfortunately, the game just refuses to let us have.

Boo hoo. Tragic. Heartbreaking.

We’re out here, thirsting over a handful of drawings and barely-there dialogue, while the game just sits there like, "Nah, you get scraps at best." Like, oh, cool, thanks. Totally what I asked for. Not like I wanted actual interactions or anything.

Nope, just gonna sit here, simping in silence.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

You know the drill—I blended a bit of canon with my headcanons for Geo and Hyugo. Kept it to just four kinks to keep things short and spicy, then topped it off with a little sweet treat at the end.

Hope you enjoy! [ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Starting off, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Hyugo.

Geo fans? They love a strong, silent, towering wall of a man who could probably carry all their groceries in one trip and still have a free hand. He’s dependable, steady, and intimidating in a hot way. But when it comes to suggestive content, some struggle to picture it—he’s asexual, after all.

As an asexual writer myself, I get it… and yes, I just called myself out. No excuses.

Hyugo fans, though? Y’all are wild. He’s a short shit menace, runs on sugar, and has the energy of a raccoon that found an energy drink. Cute? Absolutely. Safe? Questionable. There’s something about that playful, borderline-chaotic vibe that makes him irresistible—like a gremlin you can’t help but love.

Ngl Hyugo deadass scares me compared to Geo.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Naturally, I have to start with my husband—Geo, aka Subaru Oogami. Now, let’s be real, if I actually called him that to his face, he’d hit me with the nastiest side-eye known to mankind. But do I care? Absolutely not. I play too much.

Geo is mysterious, sure, but let’s not act like he’s some enigma wrapped in a riddle. He’s smart, tall, and built like a damn fortress, and yeah, no one in their right mind wants to be on his bad side. But honestly? I cannot take him seriously. Like, okay, sir, you’re glaring at me—what now? You gonna keep staring? Blink twice if you need help.

Honestly, it’s more fun to make it a game at this point.

His style, like my guy stays rocking ripped black jeans, what appears to be fishnet tights (??), a dark purple hoodie, and underneath that baggy hoodie, I thought he was wearing some kind of undershirt.

But no. You know what it is? A tight, white workout shirt. I had to double-check, and yeah, that’s definitely a compression shirt. Why does he layer like this? I don’t know. Maybe he’s secretly a gym bro. Maybe he just likes the aesthetic. Either way, I support him.

Alright, onto the real question: Can you see Geo as kinky?

Uhhhhhh... no? But also, maybe? Listen, most asexuals know about the freakiest topics known to humankind (we do our research, don’t ask why).

That’s the reason why I headcanon him into some non-sexual bondage thing.

But Geo himself? He’s not out here scheming, plotting, or forcing anything—he’s more of a “handle things on his own” kind of guy. That said, if you offer or if he really wants to show appreciation for you... yeah, he’s got a bit of a freak in him. Not the overwhelming kind—just enough to keep things interesting. He’s calculated about it, never too much, always just enough to leave you wondering.

✑ Hella Vanilla (Soft Dom Baby!)

Now for Geo preferences!

Look, I’m really trying my best not to write Geo too close to Crowe, but let’s be honest—they’re both vanilla. The difference? Geo is vanilla with a capital V. Crowe at least has some experience, while Geo?

He’s new to all this.

Like, be nice to him, he’s still figuring things out. That being said, don’t think for a second that Geo’s gonna let you take full control. Oh no, he’s independent. You can tell him how you want to be touched, how you like to be held, but he’s stubborn—he wants to learn on his own and figure out the best way to please you himself. Trial and error, but make it hot.

Soft Dom Energy. That’s Geo. He can be broody, moody, and mad at everything, but when it comes to you, this is the only time he lets himself be vulnerable. He’s surprisingly affectionate, and during an intense make-out session?

You will not be able to breathe.

This man is obsessed with littering kisses all over your skin, like he’s trying to memorize you with his mouth. And let me tell you, do not try to push him away. I mean, you can try, but the second he’s out of breath, looking at you with those intense-ass eyes, he’s pulling you right back in.

It’s almost desperate, like he physically needs you. And when you’re on his lap, instead of taking it further, this man will deadass just stare at you, call you pretty, rest his head on your chest, and hug you. Like sir??? That’s illegal???

This is why Geo is the definition of a Soft Dom. It’s not about control—it’s about connection. He doesn’t just want to do things to you, he wants to make sure you feel everything. His dominance is all about guidance, care, and making sure you know just how much he worships you.

And don’t get it twisted—just because he’s soft doesn’t mean he’s weak.

He still has control. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he takes his time. Yeah, he can be mean, a little asshole-ish sometimes, but listen… poor Geo just has trust issues. Deep-seated daddy issues, confirmed by Fantasia herself.

As for kinks? Light bondage, teasing, and lots of sensual play. Everything with him is slow and intentional because it’s not just physical—it’s emotional.

He gets in your head before he ever gets in your bed.

✑ Body Worship / Size

Geo is the kind of man who doesn’t need to say how much he loves you—he’ll show you instead. And when it comes to you? Yeah, he’s obsessed.

He’s 100% into body worship. All shapes. All sizes. Every single inch of you. Geo doesn’t just admire you; he memorizes you. Every dip, every curve, every little detail that makes you you—he knows it.

It’s in the way he touches you, his fingers dragging slowly over your skin like he’s mapping out something sacred. It’s in the way he kisses you, lingering at the places you don’t even think twice about—your shoulder, your wrists, the space behind your ear—just because he can.

And the most insane part? This is all before he even considers taking it further. Sex isn’t even on his mind at this point. He just wants you close.

Also, Geo absolutely has a size kink, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

The man is huge. Tall, broad, and built like he was specifically designed to make everyone feel tiny in comparison. And if you happen to be taller or close to his height? I’m so sorry, but that does not save you.

Geo will find a way to make you feel small—whether it’s the way he looms over you, stepping just a little too close so you have to tilt your head back to meet his eyes, or how he deliberately slows his movements, reminding you just how much bigger and stronger he is.

And let me tell you—he eats that shit up.

Not in an obvious way, though. Geo isn’t Crowe; he’s not gonna outright tease you about it. But the moment he catches on how do you react? Oh, he leans into it. Casually backing you into a counter like he just happened to move that way, dropping his voice a little lower when he speaks, making you hyper-aware of just how much space he takes up.

And then—the worst part?

When you say something to him, he doesn’t just answer like a normal person. No. Geo has to lean down, real slow, get right in your space, eyes heavy-lidded and unreadable before letting out a low, amused “Mm?”

Sir. Sir. You heard me the first time.

And he knows. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The little shift of his lips, the faintest smirk in his eyes—he gets a kick out of watching you react. He won’t admit it, but he definitely enjoys making you flustered.

Now, about his strength. Because Geo isn’t just big—he’s ridiculously strong. And instead of being normal about it, he’s just out here carrying you whenever he feels like it.

This man is a Great Dane in human form. Yes, I get why people compare him to a cat—he’s broody, standoffish, and acts like he doesn’t care. But the second he’s comfortable around you? Boom. Massive, clingy, overgrown puppy. A whole 6’2” worth of muscle that has zero concept of personal space.

Like picture this: You’re in the kitchen, minding your business, when suddenly—boom. A wall of man is right behind you, hands casually gripping your hips, chin resting on top of your head. "Whatcha doin’?"

Sir. SIR. You nearly throw the spatula. You didn’t even hear him come in, and now he’s just standing there, pressed against you like your own personal shadow. And the worst part? He does this constantly.

Geo will randomly sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and rest his chin on your shoulder—unbothered. He’s not even trying to start anything; he just likes being close to you. Like some big, scary-looking human-weighted blanket with zero boundaries.

And honestly? He thinks it’s cute.

(It is cute, but we are not feeding his ego.)

Now, let’s discuss his obsession with carrying you. Because Geo will carry you. And no, not just when it’s "necessary." This man will find any excuse to pick you up.

Can’t reach something? He lifts you. Feeling lazy? Over his shoulder, you go.

Trying to argue with him? Congratulations. You have been physically removed from the conversation. He doesn’t even struggle.

You could be fighting for your life, yelling at him to put you down, and he’s just walking away, completely unbothered.

"Geo, PUT ME DOWN."

"Nah." And the worst part? He’s smirking.

This man is carrying you like you weigh absolutely nothing, while you’re over here kicking your feet in protest—and he is loving every second of it.

Let’s talk about Geo’s weaknesses.

Because for all his composure, all his brooding, mysterious, cold-hearted bastard energy, the man is insanely sensitive. His chest? His stomach?

Absolute weak spots.

You don’t even have to try hard—just a light brush of your fingers along his torso, and suddenly, boom. His breath hitches, his muscles tense, and his whole body betrays him. And oh, he hates that.

Geo, who prides himself on being unshakable, unreadable, completely in control, and yet? A simple touch has him slipping. Just for a second—but it’s enough. Enough for you to see it. That momentary flicker in his expression, the way his brows furrow like he’s fighting off a reaction.

Geo is not immune. And if you really want to break him? Focus on his chest. Because let’s be real—Geo is obsessed with breasts. Size? Irrelevant. He just likes them.

Doesn’t even matter why. They exist, and that’s enough. There is not a single session where his hands aren’t on you in some way. And the worst part? Half the time, he’s not even aware he’s doing it. It’s absentminded.

Resting his palm over your chest while cuddling? Check. Idly tracing patterns against your skin while zoning out? Check. Acting like a human-weighted blanket with grabby hands? Double check. But when is he aware of it? Oh, he’s shameless.

Geo is so touch-starved, it’s almost pitiful.

This man hates people. Hates when they fawn over him. Hates when they get too close. He keeps his distance, keeps himself cold, and it works. It suits him. Until you come along and absolutely ruin him.Because now? He notices everything.

You, brushing your hand against his? Feels like a goddamn brand. He’ll be scrubbing the memory from his brain while on his morning run, furious that it’s still there.

You, touching him even casually? Oh, he’s doomed.

And of course, because Geo is the worst, his response is to be even more of an asshole to you. His usual indifference turns cutting. His words get sharper, his tone a little meaner—we love a toxic man. I’m lying. But does that stop him from wanting you? No.

Geo wants his hands on you. Constantly.

Kissing, touching, staring—he’s got to feel you under his fingers. And the best part? He doesn’t even bother to pretendlike it’s anything other than pure obsession.

You ask him, “Why are you so obsessed with touching me?” And he gives you that look. The one that says, “How dare you ask something so stupid.” The one that could reduce you to ash if it were any more intense.

His face is unreadable, as if you’ve just asked him why the sky is blue or why pizza is delicious. And then, with all the seriousness in the world, he mutters in that tone of his, “Feels nice.”

Like it’s a universal truth—as if you were the crazy one for not getting it. Duh. Yeah, he's intimidating. Yeah, he's moody. Yeah, he gives off serious "I’m a brick wall with emotional issues" vibes. But when it comes to you?

Oh, he’s a whole different kind of animal.

He’s a soft, body-worshipping, touch-starved menace who refuses to let you out of his grip. Ever. And you know what? It’s kind of cute, in an incredibly irritating way. He’s like a big, clingy puppy with a very dangerous bite.

And when it comes to sex? Forget it. Geo’s not just here to do the bare minimum. No, no. He’s going to make sure you feel every single second of it.

Geo? He’s slow. He’s deliberate. He’s the kind of guy who’s in no rush because he wants to savor it.

The way your body clenches around him, the way your breath catches when he pushes deeper. The way your lips stretch to fit him and your little hands look like they could barely wrap around his. Every single tiny detail drives him absolutely insane, and he’s not going to rush through any of it. He’s going to take his sweet time.

And aftercare? Oh, Geo’s version of aftercare is so lazy. No candles, no cuddling with a soft blanket, and no deep emotional talks. Hell no. What does Geo do? He’ll rub his big, warm hands slowly over your sides, absentmindedly, like he’s grounding himself or something.

You can tell he’s not even thinking at that moment, just feeling. His touches are gentle but possessive as if he's just reminding himself you’re there, and he can’t let go of you, even for a second.

And what’s the best part of all this?

He’s not letting you go anytime soon.

✑ Bondage (my fav…)

Y’all knew this was coming. I mean, how could I not talk about Geo and bondage? It’s honestly one of my favorites, and you’re about to see why.

Geo? He’s the type to be meticulous about it. We’re talking intricately tying your wrists and ankles—none of that rushed stuff.

He’s all about making sure the ropes are perfect, each knot tight and precise, just the right amount of pressure on your skin. The way the ropes caress your body as he pulls them snug—there’s something almost artistic about it.

He’s not just tying you up; he’s painting you with every knot and twist, his hands slow and deliberate as they move over your skin.

And then, when he's done, Geo doesn’t rush it. Oh no, he stands over you for a few moments, just watching. And he’s not watching with concern or any weird sense of urgency. Nah. He’s watching you squirm—studying you, as if he’s seeing how you react to being bound in his ropes, how you shift and struggle.

He loves seeing how the ropes hold you in place, watching how you can’t move the way you want, like you’re completely at his mercy.

His eyes—those unreadable, dark eyes—never leave you, and in that moment, it’s like everything is just about you. The way you tug at the restraints, the way your body shifts trying to find some freedom, the soft little gasps as you move.

And he’s loving every single second of it.

He’s a big guy, so the way you’re all tied up beneath him just makes him feel even bigger, like you’re trapped in his world, and there's no escape. And don’t even get me started on the way he’s so smug about it. He knows exactly how much control he has, and he’s not shy about relishing in it.

And just when you think he’s about to do something, he’ll pause—making you wait. Because if there’s one thing Geo loves more than anything, it’s the anticipation. That long, drawn-out pause before he decides to make his next move.

Oh—oh my god, let’s talk about sensory deprivation—because Geo has a bit of a thing for that. And guess what? It goes hand-in-hand with his extensive love of tying you up.

Geo’s collection of soft rope, however his silk ribbons is practically a work of art. Seriously. He’s got them all—every color you can imagine. But his favorites? Dark purple, black, and maybe a bit of red for that extra flair. You know, the same ribbons he uses to tie his hair? Yeah, those ones. But here’s the thing: those same ribbons are going to be used to tie YOU up.

It’s almost like a twisted little fashion show, except this time, you are the model. Add little more fun ask him take pictures of you, I’m sure he’s willing to comply.

He loves the way the silk glides through his fingers as he ties you up, each knot like a little secret, a personal touch only he knows. And then, once you're tied up and helpless, that's when the fun begins.

Geo? He’s all about the build-up. He’ll take his time, letting the anticipation hang thick in the air, like you both know what's coming but he’s not in any rush. He might even brush a finger over your skin just enough to tease you, before pulling away like he’s got all the time in the world.

He does. He always does.

And once you're all tied up, there’s this weird moment where everything is heightened. Without sight, without sound, every little thing Geo does to you feels more intense.

You can feel the air shift when he moves, the heat of his body close by but never enough. You hear the slightest sound, and your entire body tenses, wondering what he’s going to do next.

Then, just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he’s there, his fingers brushing over the silk ribbons, admiring how they look against your skin. And that? That’s when he smirks. Because he knows exactly how much this is driving you wild, and he’s not even close to done.

And trust me, you’ll be squirming in more ways than one.

✑ Katoptronophilia

Let’s talk about Katoptronophilia, or as it’s commonly known, mirror sex.

Oh yeah, Geo is totally into it, and honestly?

I’m shocked you didn’t see this coming. The man is a walking contradiction of brooding intensity and twisted fascination with aesthetics, and mirrors?

Well, they’re his perfect tool for both.

Geo? He has mirrors everywhere in his place. It’s almost a little excessive, honestly, but then again, it makes sense. He’s constantly checking his reflection, especially after those private workouts. A few flexes here, a few glances there—just to make sure his ‘I’m too cool to smile’ vibe is intact, right? But here's the twist: it’s not just about his reflection anymore.

Geo loves watching you in front of a mirror. He’s not obsessed with his own reflection, oh no. He’s captivated by you—your movements, your expressions. He loves it when you catch yourself in the mirror, when you get distracted by the way your body looks. It’s like you’ve given him an excuse to slip in behind you, without a single word.

Imagine this, theses are my delusions: You’re putting on a simple gloss, just trying to get ready for the day, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

But then… you feel him.

Geo’s presence is like a shadow that makes the air a little thicker. He stands there, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, but you’re too focused on your lips to notice. He watches as you press the gloss on, lips glistening, your reflection sparkling under the light.

And then, the moment you don’t expect it, his hands are on your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as his eyes trace the mirror. His voice is a low, teasing murmur, almost playful: “You look good. You know that, right?”

You think he’s just commenting on your outfit. Oh no.

Geo’s temptation? To mess it up.

That’s right, his eyes flick down to your lips, and the only thing stopping him from ruining that glossy shine is his overwhelming urge to keep you distracted. His lips are close to yours, and he can practically taste the anticipation, his hands tightening around you just enough to remind you he’s there.

It’s like he gets a kick out of making you aware of the fact that he’s behind you, studying your reflection. And maybe just a little bit more into watching you lose control of that mirror.

For example, It was one of those rare, lazy days where neither of you had any pressing work to do, and Geo was not thrilled about it. The man is built to be active, always on the move, constantly lifting or running or pushing himself to the limit. But today? He was stuck at a slower pace, and honestly?

He was grumbling about it.

You, on the other hand, were doing your best to get him to actually relax—something he hates with a passion, but deep down, he knew he needed it. So, with a few gentle suggestions, you managed to convince him to settle down on the couch. But knowing Geo, it didn’t take long for things to take a turn.

There you were, sitting in his lap, your back against his broad chest as his face buried into your shoulder. He was mumbling into your skin, the low hum of his voice sending shivers down your spine as his arms wrapped tightly around you. He was trying, trying so hard to be calm, but the proximity, the way your body moved just slightly under his hands—it made it harder for him to focus.

The thing was, Geo couldn’t stay still for long.

Not when you were close.

So, as you shifted in his lap, trying to get more comfortable, he couldn't help but tighten his grip, pulling you just a little closer. His face pressed deeper into your neck, the weight of his body felt warm and heavy, his breath ghosting along your skin.

"Stop squirming," he mumbled against your ear, though there was an edge to his voice—one that made it clear he wasn’t as relaxed as he let on. His fingers began to trace over your sides, gradually finding their way lower, guiding your movements with soft but firm pressure.

And then, you noticed it—right in front of you two, the full-length mirror.

It was like the universe had set it up just for this moment. You caught a glimpse of yourself, your body moving against his, his fingers rubbing in time with your shifts. The reflection only made it worse—made you more aware of the fact that every tiny movement of your body, every little gasp or twitch, was being mirrored, amplified, observed.

Geo was watching you carefully, studying your reflection as much as he was focused on how you were guiding him. He could see your fingers fidgeting on top of his hands, guiding him where to rub your clothed pussy, where to touch—each motion becoming more deliberate as you tried to maintain some semblance of control.

“Geo, please…” you breathed, unable to help the way your own body responded, shifting to meet his touch. Geo’s breath hitched, his eyes flicking between your reflection and your face, watching as you squirmed in his arms.

There was something electric about this—something that pushed all his patience to the limit, something he couldn’t ignore. His hand moved again, more firmly now, following your lead as you guided him, your body responding to every slow, deliberate movement.

The way the mirror captured everything—the way your body arched against his, the quiet moans slipping from your lips, the way your eyes locked with his in the reflection as you both lost track of time—it was almost like you were both trapped in a moment, caught between the pleasure of the present and the art of watching you unfold.

Geo might’ve been the one leading the way, but you were the one showing him just how much control you had, even in a moment like this.

Now watching his bare cock lined up on your stomach as you sat on his lap, reaching way past your belly button, talking about just how small you are compared to him, and wondering how he’s gonna make it fit.

As the minutes ticked by, the air in the room thickened, almost like it was holding its breath. The only sounds were the soft rhythmic movement of your bodies pressing together, and the small, breathless noises that escaped you as you rode him.

Geo watched you with those predatory eyes, his grip tightening around your waist as you squirmed above him, just enough to drive him insane. He was nothing if not patient—insufferably patient, in fact—and he knew exactly how to draw this out. Every movement you made, every quiet whimper that slipped past your lips, only served to fuel his sick little plan.

He wasn’t going to let you win. Not yet.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you felt the heat of his breath on your neck, each exhale making your skin prickle with anticipation.

But you couldn’t hold back anymore, could you?

You were close, so close to the point where you needed him to take control, to make it stop. You were whimpering now, clinging to him, begging for him to take over.

Geo’s lips sighed into that knowing look. He could hear it in your voice—how you were unraveling on his cock. He keeps you close until his abdomen is drenched in your slick, chuckling under his breath when you whine.

And he loved it. His thumbs traced slow circles over the plush flesh of your waist, the pressure light but deliberate.

Every time you tried to hold back a mewl, he'd hum in response—low, condescending, almost amused by your desperation.

"Giving up already?" he’d tease, his voice like velvet, coated in that dangerous edge of satisfaction. "Pathetic."

But the truth was, Geo was bone-tired.

Not in the sense that he was worn out, but in the way that only you could fill the void for him. He didn’t need anything but you, right there, straddling him, your body pressed against his. His face buried into your neck, savoring the warmth of your skin, the sweet, familiar scent of you that drove him wild. It wasn’t about control anymore.

It was about feeling you, grounding himself in the sensation of being with you, connected in the most primal way.

And still, even when you were frozen, not moving an inch—your body so deeply connected to his—he felt it. The pressure, the way you clung to him, the way it was making both of you dizzy. It was too much.

You were too tight, too perfect, too intoxicating.

And then, just when you thought it was too much to bear, when you were on the edge, your mind fogged with lust, Geo pulled away.

Just a little. Enough to make you ache. Enough to make your whole body tremble in frustration. You could feel the absence of him like a physical pull, and your breath hitched. The tease was unbearable.

He wasn’t done with you yet. Not by a long shot. Geo enjoyed watching you suffer, toying with you, letting you think he was finally going to let you have your release. And then, when you were this close—he'd pull away again, dragging out the torment.

Just enough to send you spiraling into your own frustration.

And that? That was when he felt alive—pressing himself up away from the mattress, just enough to lift you off the bed too with ease. He doesn’t waste time, picking you up like you're weightless and pulling you flush against his chest, your arms snaking around his neck and your legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

You’re not going anywhere—not that you’d want to.

And that’s when he goes to town, fucking into you with a brutal, relentless pace. Every thrust is calculated, every movement intentional, as he watches the mess you're making in the mirror.

You can see everything—the way you squirm, the way your lips part in breathless pleasure, the way your body trembles against him. And just when you think you can’t take anymore, he’s there—pushing you further, harder, faster. You sink your nails into his shoulders as he held you close, the sting of your grip only making him press into you deeper.

Showing off his little cute habit, when he actually push you back onto the mattress,where he’ll press down on your stomach, feeling how much of him you’re taking, And… maybeeee whispering dirty praises in your ear about how pretty you look under him, taking his cock like a champ.

Then, that beautiful moment when you cry out his name, torn between wanting him to keep going or begging him to stop. It feels so damn good you can't decide.

Your body shakes and trembles, not sure whether it’s from the pleasure or the overwhelming sensation of being so completely consumed by him.

You tell him you’re in control this time.

You insist you’ll fuck him this time—you’re going to win.

But deep down, you know how it ends every single time. No matter how much you try to convince him, Geo always wins.

Who wouldn't want a man like that, who knows exactly how to leave you breathless, on the edge of losing yourself?

And frankly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

✑ 𝒽𝓎𝓊𝑔𝑜

Here’s sweet baby boy Hyugo—Hyugo Sugimoto !Honestly, writing him is lowkey a challenge, especially compared to someone like Geo, but since I have a soft spot for the brothers more than the main leads (yes, even with all their complex personalities), I’m doing it for y’all.

But anyway, let’s talk about Hyugo.

He’s literally the sweetest person you’ll ever meet, hands down. Even though his outfits are on the simple side, his youthful energy just makes him glow.

He’s got this oval-shaped face, a bit baby-faced, and his sky-blue eyes are sparkling with that innocent charm. His lips are thin, but there's this softness about him that makes you want to believe he's just the nicest guy ever.

But, and here’s the thing—don’t let that sweet face fool you.

We all know the cutest, most innocent-looking ones can hide some serious secrets, right? They say looks can be deceiving, and trust me, with Hyugo, that’s an understatement.

So, the big question—can you see Hyugo as kinky?

For me? Hell yeah, absolutely.

For others? Maybe they think he’s just sweet and harmless, but I’m not taking any chances. After the stuff he pulls in the game? Nah, I’m not falling for that "good boy" act. That man’s got layers, and some of them are not nearly as innocent as they seem.

I mean, let’s be real, the guy knows how to get exactly what he wants without ever breaking a sweat.

✑ Switch (Sub side…)

Now, let’s dive into baby boy Hyugo's preferences, shall we?

Just like his best buddy Sol, Hyugo is a switch—and when I say switch, I mean capital S to the H—A. SWITCH. No questions asked.

Now, imagine my surprise when I learned he used to be a virgin, and the dude did it with a man?

Yeah, he's a switch.

I have no idea who's doing the bending (or maybe that’s the whole point, right?), but I’m calling it like I see it. Hyugo can take both roles and absolutely slay in either of them.

Meanwhile, Sol's out here second-guessing every text he sends, wondering if he's being too much or not enough, texting wrong men for validation. We love him, but come on, bro. Hyugo, on the other hand, is living his best life.

Like, imagine this: Hyugo, all giggly and kicking his feet, waiting for you to reply to his sweet dinner invitation text. You send back a “Can’t wait!” and he’s over the moon, practically bouncing off the walls. He’s so happy you’re with him, it’s honestly the cutest thing ever.

And when you’re together? Oh, he holds your hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world. He’s got that combination of shock and glee—like he can’t believe you’re actually here with him.

You’re tugged into his side with every step, and he’s showering you with little kisses on your temple, just so happy to have you close.

Like, Hyugo is a sweetheart, but don’t let that fool you. Beneath that cute, giggling exterior is a switch who knows exactly what he wants—and trust me, he’s not afraid to get it.

Hyugo? Yeah, the moment that door to your apartment clicks shut behind him, he’s a completely different person.

All that sweet, baby-faced charm? Gone.

He transforms into someone much wilder, more needy. It’s like the minute he's in private with you, he’s letting down all his defenses.

And yeah, most of the time, Hyugo’s a sub. He’s got that soft, touch-starved side that craves affection and care. He wants you to baby him, in the way only you can—gentle, but with that touch that makes him feel seen and wanted. You can tell he's a little starved for it, much like his brother Geo.

However Hyugo knows how to hold it back a little more, unlike his best buddy Sol. No offense to Sol, but he’s just a tad more... obvious about it, right?

Anyway, Hyugo? It’s like a delicate balance of needing you while still holding on to his cool exterior until it all comes crashing down.

Now, don’t get me wrong, like I said Hyugo loves when you baby him.

He may not openly admit it, but the way his eyes soften when you shower him with attention? Yeah, it’s more than enough evidence. He might even have a little bit of a thing for being pampered and cared for, but I won’t dive into that—not my cup of tea. Mommy kink.

But that doesn’t mean his desires stop there. Oh no, once you’ve got him behind closed doors, the sweetness can turn into something else entirely.

Because let me tell you something—Hyugo does NOT do slow and sensual. The second he hears anything remotely related to sex, it’s like flipping a switch. He’ll be pounding into you like it’s the last time you two will ever touch, and he’s not exactly taking his time. There’s an urgency there, like he’s starving for you in the most primal way.

And your breasts? Forget about it.

You cannot keep him off of them. He’s all over them, kissing, sucking, mouthing at them like they’re the best thing in the world. Hyugo’s hands are never far away, especially when they’re roaming, taking every chance to squeeze, kiss, or just touch whatever he can get his hands on.

But here’s the thing: he loves being told what to do. He thrives on direction, on being guided, and the more you tease him, the more he wants.

Deny him just a little, though?

Oh, that’s when he gets even more worked up. Being denied? It’s like a whole new level of arousal for him, something about the frustration only makes him more desperate.

Hyugo’s a mess in the best way—he craves attention, craves being controlled, and craves all of you. So when you finally give in and take control, he’s lost to the feeling, ready for whatever comes next.

And trust me, you will feel it.

✑ Semi-public (My lord…)

Hyugo? Baby, he’s got a serious thrill-seeking side, and it shows.

The boy is daring, and when he wants you, he doesn’t waste time hiding it. You think he’s just a sweet, baby-faced guy? Think again. He’s into semi-public situations, and he thrives off the danger of it. No place is off-limits for him, even the college roof—the place he loves to hang out at when he needs some space, away from the rules and prying eyes.

But with you? He doesn’t care about the risk.

When he’s on that the college roof, staring out at the world, there’s a fire in his eyes, and the second he gets you alone, the rules don’t matter. He wants you ‘right there’, right then, and you can bet he’s not shy about it.

The thrill of being seen, even just for a second, turns him on more than anything. He wants the world to know you're his, and he’ll do anything to get a taste of that danger. The whole atmosphere is thick with anticipation, the tension between you so palpable that it almost crackles.

And when it comes to foreplay?

Don’t even get me started on how obsessed he is with dry-humping. The second the two of you are close, it’s like an instinctual need for friction. You can feel the heat building as he presses into you, his body grinding and frotting against yours.

There’s no subtlety here—he’s desperate for that contact, desperate to feel your body move against his. Every little roll of his hips, every grind, is a game of inches as he gets closer and closer to losing control. He’s completely lost in the sensation, like he can’t get enough.

And then, when he can’t stand it anymore, when that desperation peaks and you’ve been teasing him just enough—he rips your clothes off. Right then. Right there. It’s not even about taking his time anymore; it’s all about the raw need. He’s done holding back, and in that moment, all that matters is the frantic urgency to have you, to touch you.

There’s no question in his mind—he needs you now.

Like that boy will get off any way he can if it means getting that release. And it’s not even about subtlety, he just needs to do it.

Now, for a fun little twist: He’s definitely into pegging. I’m not saying he’s screaming for it every minute of the day, but when the right time comes, he’s all about it. There’s just something about it that turns him on in a way nothing else can. He will beg you to fuck his tight little asshole until he makes a mess.

But honestly, that’s Hyugo—always a little more complicated than you might think.

And when it comes to moaning? That boy whines and moans like a fucking bitch when you’re going at him. It’s like every little sensation sends him spiraling into this blissed-out mess. He just can’t help it, and you’ll quickly learn that his whimpering is one of the sexiest sounds in the world.

But don’t get it twisted—he loves being treated right.

He loves that softness, that attention.

But there’s a part of him that wants to be pushed a little, taken advantage of in a way that leaves him desperate. You can take your frustrations out on him, just a little. He won’t break. He might even love it more than you expect.

When it comes to degradation, Hyugo’s not into anything too harsh, but call him your slut? Oh, you’re speaking his language now.

That little spark in his eye will light up every time you remind him who he belongs to. He won’t admit it, but he loves being labeled that way, that submissive title making him feel just a little bit more desperate, a little more needed. So yeah, don’t be fooled by the baby-faced charm—Hyugo is a lot more than he lets on.

Treat him right, give him what he craves, and you’ll be surprised at just how wild he gets when you push his buttons.

✑ Overstimulation

And then there’s overstimulation.

Sometimes, it’s not even intentional, but it’s inevitable with Hyugo. You feel so damn good above him, your body responding to every touch, every thrust. He’s chasing that high, pulling you closer to the edge again and again until your body can’t take it.

And Hyugo’s a man who knows what he wants and may ur may not beg for it, and he loves when you take control, especially when it comes to pulling his soft hair.

The way his breath hitches whenever your fingers tangle in his hair—that’s his weakness. He’s yours, every inch of him, and he’s not shy about showing it. Each time you yank his hair, you can hear the shameless moans slip from his lips.

It drives him crazy, his body reacting to every tug, and it only fuels the fire between you two. He’s not just giving—he’s taking, fully immersed in the feeling, and you can tell by the way his tongue works at your trembling walls.

And let me tell you, this man is all about cunnilingus.

There’s nothing soft or shy about it; Hyugo’s a big eater, and he’s hungry for you. When his lips press to your pussy, it’s like he’s starving, devouring you like he hasn’t eaten in days. His arms wrap around your thighs, holding you in place as he feasts on you.

He licks, sucks, and nibbles with a feverish intensity, working his way through every inch of you, as if he’ll die if he doesn't get every drop.

Sometimes it feels like it’s too much, his tongue relentless, but you can’t stop the heat it builds. You’ll squirm and tug at his hair, urging him on, and he just pulls you closer, deeper into the sensation.

Hyugo’s eye contact is deadly. When he wants you, he’s not looking away. His hand grips your jaw, tilting your head, forcing you to look at him. He demands that you keep your eyes on him, guiding you with his fiery gaze.

Those eyes of his? Thoes soft eyes turns Intense. Piercing. He’s studying every little thing about you—the way your pupils dilate with desire, the flutter of your lashes as he pushes you further, deeper.

The intensity of his gaze makes it all feel so much more real. He doesn’t need to say a word; his eyes speak louder than anything.

You’re a shaking mess in his arms, your muscles aching, your mind overwhelmed with the pleasure he’s giving you. But that’s the thing about him—he won’t stop.

He doesn’t care about your begging, about how much you can take; he wants to see you lose yourself, to feel you break into a thousand pieces in his arms.

And when you finally do, he’s yours.

Completely, utterly yours.

✑ Role play

Oh, baby boy is all about the roleplay.

And no, let me clear that up right now, he's not into anything dangerous or dark—no gunplay, no assassin fantasies (he never even brings up his questionable word side to you, thank you very much).

But when it comes to the playful stuff? Oh, he’s all in. His absolute favorite? Cops and robbers. But here’s the twist—he loves being the one arrested.

There’s something about you in charge, giving him that commanding look, your fingers brushing over the cuffs, the way you look him up and down like you’re about to throw him in the back of your car that drives him wild.

Humiliation? Oh, Hyugo lives for it. You can see it in his eyes when the teasing starts, the way his entire demeanor shifts—there’s a naughty little spark that lights up in his gaze whenever you call him out.

You both know the game, and you’re always more than happy to play along.

It starts simple enough, just a teasing glance or a casual remark. But the more you push him, the more he wants to be pushed. You lower your voice, your hand brushing over his thigh as you lean in, whispering in his ear, “Such a good little whore for me, huh? You can’t get enough of it, can you?”

His breath hitches, a flicker of a smirk crossing his face as he tries to hold it together. But, oh, you know better. The words trip over his tongue as he fumbles, his voice dropping a little—just enough for you to hear the hesitation, the vulnerability he’s trying so hard to keep under wraps.

“W-wait, I didn’t… I didn’t say—” His words stutter, barely escaping, and you can already see the flush rising in his cheeks. The little twitch at the corner of his lips betrays him, and the smug grin you're wearing only deepens.

Gotcha.

“Oh, but you’re looking so cute right now, all flustered. It’s adorable how easily you fold under just a few words.” You can’t help but tease, watching him squirm under your touch. His cheeks are flushed, his breath uneven, and his eyes are flickering, darting away, trying to avoid the weight of your gaze.

But you won’t let him escape.

You never do.

He tries to play it off, shifting uncomfortably, biting his lip as he avoids looking you directly in the eyes. His fingers twitch at his sides like he wants to reach for you, to make it stop, but he can’t. Not yet.

“You know,” you continue, letting the silence stretch before adding, “you look so cute when you try to act like you’re not loving every second of this. You’re my slutty little toy, and you know it, don’t you?”

The words sink in, and you watch his entire body tense. His throat works as if he’s about to protest, but all that comes out is a frustrated little moan. “S-stop… I’m not—”

“You’re not?” you cut him off, raising an eyebrow, “Then why are you blushing so much? Why do you look like you’re about to come just from me saying those words?”

He stammers, unable to form any coherent argument, his voice cracking with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t… you can’t—”

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his ear. “It’s okay, Hyugo. I know you’re mine. You’re just too cute when you try to act like you’re not my little slut. You’ll never be able to hide that from me.”

And with that, his face burns even brighter, his attempts at deflecting your words turning into soft, desperate whimpers. It’s game over for him, and he knows it. His body betrays him every single time.

You can’t help but love watching him squirm under the weight of your teasing, his mouth opening, but no words coming out as he struggles to keep his composure.

This game? You’re always the winner. And Hyugo?

Well, he’s always more than happy to play.

✑ Cheirophilia

Hear me out—Cheirophilia.

Oh, Hyugo? That boy lives for touch. He’s naturally affectionate, always finding little excuses to run his fingers along your skin, tracing lazy circles on your palm, interlocking fingers, brushing his knuckles against your cheek like he just hasto be touching you at all times.

So let’s be real—he’s got a thing for hands.

And not just in the oh, I like holding hands kind of way. No, no, this man will obsess over your hands. The shape of them, the way your fingers move, the strength of your grip. He notices everything.

How your nails look when they drag across his back, how soft your palms feel when you cup his face, how effortlessly your fingers wrap around his throat when you push him down and remind him exactly who he belongs to.

Hyugo melts when you play with his hands, too. Run your fingers along the lines of his palms? He shudders. Press a kiss to his knuckles? He’s giggling like a schoolgirl. Lace your fingers with his and tighten your grip just slightly? He’s already giving you those fuck-me eyes.

And don’t even get him started on watching you use your hands. The way you gesture when you talk, the way your fingers curl when you beckon him closer—he’s hanging onto every movement, completely entranced.

If he’s sitting across from you, he’ll grab your hand mid-conversation just to absentmindedly play with your fingers, pressing them to his lips like it’s second nature.

But in the bedroom? Oh, baby, you’re in trouble.

Hyugo adores watching your hands work on him. Gripping his hair, clawing at his back, holding him down—he’s watching every single twitch of your fingers with rapt attention.

He lives for the moment when your hands tremble just slightly from the pleasure, when you grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, when your fingers sink into his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something while he ruins you.

And let’s be real, he loves having your hands around his throat. Not too rough, just enough pressure to make his breath hitch, his pulse racing under your fingertips. He’ll grin at you, eyes dark with mischief, voice breathy as he teases, “Tighter, please. You know I can take it.”

And you already know Hyugo’s got stamina for days.

He’s insatiable, always riled up and ready to go again before you’ve even caught your breath. One round isn’t enough—hell, two barely cuts it. If he’s spent one session melting under your touch, panting and begging for more, then the next?

Oh, he’s flipping the script, pinning you down, and making sure you remember exactly who he is.

And he takes his time with it.

Who’s spreading you apart, just fucking staring until you’re squirming?

Hyugo.

"No, pretty girl, let me look." His hands hold you still, thumbs pressing against your trembling thighs, watching with those hungry, sky-blue eyes—eyes that burn with amusement and desire as you try to close your legs.

But he won’t let you. Not until he’s had his fill, memorizing how ruined you already are before he even touches you properly.

Then, when you whimper his name, he just grins. "There she is." And then he’s diving in, suckling, licking, dragging his tongue over every inch like he’s starving.

Who’s got the nastiest mouth on him when your thighs are tossed over his shoulders, his cock pounding into you, relentless?

Hyugo.

"Hear how good you takin’ me, honey?" His voice is deep, ragged, lips curling into that cocky little smirk when he feels you tighten around him.

"Tryin’ to squeeze every last drop outta me, huh? Greedy thing." His fingers dig into your hips, holding you down, making you feel every inch of him, and he’s watching you—eyes locked onto the way your face twists in pleasure, the way your hands grasp at the sheets, at him.

And let’s be honest, who’s absolutely wrecked the moment he feels your walls start to flutter around him?

Hyugo.

"Fuck—lemme inside one more time, yeah? Will ya let me, beautiful, please?" His breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing against your ear as he pleads, as he begs.

"Wanna have me leaking outta you for days, please—" His body trembles, overwhelmed and desperate, rutting into you with everything he has left. And when you finally give in, whispering his name, he shatters.

And afterward? He’s all clingy and cuddly, wrapping himself around you, arms locked tight like he never wants to let go. He buries his face in your neck, pressing lazy kisses against your skin, murmuring, "Was I good for you? Made you feel good, yeah?"—and the way he says it, voice soft, needy, full of quiet vulnerability, makes your heart ache.

But oh, when he’s the one pushing your buttons?

That’s when the real game begins.

Hyugo lives for a power play. He’ll push and push, teasing you with every filthy little comment, every smug remark slipping from his lips, knowing exactly how to make you crack.

The more you try to act unaffected, the harder he digs in. Hands wandering, lips ghosting over your skin, voice dropping into something slow and deliberate, thick with amusement.

"Aww, what’s the matter, babe? Tryna act all composed? Cute—" His fingers lace with yours, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles, all innocent, but his grin says otherwise.

"But you know I see right through you, don’t you?" His lips brush against your ear, and he laughs when he feels the shiver that runs down your spine.

You pretend you don’t care.

But Hyugo? He knows better.

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb vn #tkatb geo x reader #tkatb geo #the kid at the back geo #geo oogami #subaru oogami #tkatb hyugo #hyugo sugimoto #the kid at the back hyugo #hyugo x reader

352 notes · View notes

darqx · 7 months ago

Text

If you didnt come to party [get the hell out of this club]

In which there's some links to old art - I've been getting a number of asks that are already technically answered so that's just what I'm gonna be doing if i can even remember what RAD they originally came from lol.

❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ

UNFORGIVEN.

Yes he can speak at least two demon languages (commons and a more specialised one).

Not really cos the ichor will eventually disappear if it's not in contact with Rire for a while lol. You ever wonder how someone could mysteriously drown whilst not being around anything they could have drowned in? Yeah.

I have drawn several such instances a long time ago. But it's not really Rire flirting with Ren it's more him being like...subtly condescending to Ren since Ren's submissive level is not very interesting to him |D

I...think you may have possibly mistaken me saying Rire might cry if he was in severe pain to mean that's the only time he could cry XD; To answer your q, yes Rire can cry from emotions - the point is he would choose not to (esp in public) as that would be a weakness.

🤔 You could probably get away with the same dress design but in black, tbh (if it was Lady Rire). Since the outfit design is 1930s/1940s based Rire's equivalent would be like...a 3 piece suit with a long overcoat/trench coat.

Got you covered bro [from a suit meme I did before]

Rire has a very long life span, but he's not immortal XD;

Tbh I don't really have thoughts about any of other peoples headcanons. Like I'm generally quite neutral towards headcanons because I primarily deal with the canon; the extent of my thoughts would be like "hm i wonder how they came up with that" lol.

This is actually in my FAQ :d but good of you to check for permission! If it's your own artwork then yes it is ok to make fanmerch of Rire. Similarly Gato allows fanmerch of her BTD and TPOF characs as long as it's your own art you are selling (and not like, our art/someone else's fanart that they didn't give permission to turn into merch).

It would be in Cain's best interest not to.

Cain is literally saying Olé Olé because i happened to be listening to this song at the time.

I can barely keep up with my ask box as myself let alone do it while pretending to be a charac lol, so no 😅 You can find a bunch of the most common qs in the FAQ pages though.

No and not really - though he is a bit more sensitive to light compared to a human as he has much better night vision than a human. He may also be able to see more colours than humans 🤔

There is technically no "stereotypical" demon in my 'verse, there's a bunch of different species each with their own looks/powers, so if he was another species then he'd have their physical characteristics. Rire's species is considered "plain" because outwardly they can pass more easily as a human than say; Izm's species (who have a really noticeable Glasgow smile-esque mouth as one of their physical features).

Yes he was born a demon...to his demon parents...|D;

He's the king of his sector and his sector is pretty well-to-do, I think you can draw your own conclusions from that lol.

Maybe, depends on what the human in question does with that.

Your second q has two answers depending on what context I answer them in, so I'll reply in the BTD context keeping in mind a charac like EP's Cain :d Basically yes Rire would be able to sense them like he does other demons. It's not a specific sense of "THIS CHARAC IS AN ANGEL" but more like "this charac is not human" and depending on what else he gets from it a "in your best interests to not engage".

Something big with long black fur and yellow eyes, maybe like a Norwegian Forest Cat or a Maine Coon.

#boyfriend to death #answer dump #rire answer dump #art #doodle #long post

601 notes · View notes

kilesplaysthings · 10 days ago

Text

how the boys would react when you have a migraine

yeahhh third one babyyy! i swear these all popped into my head one after the other, in this order, actually! This one was really fun to write, because Zayne!!! 🥰 sorry, my bias might be showing here lol

Part III: Zayne (you/MC x Zayne)

It was your day off, and boy, were you ever grateful for that. Last night as you got ready for bed, another headache decided to plague you. You had hoped a good night's rest would make it go away - you even slept in and stayed in bed for longer than usual. But no, the headache was still there and it persisted until it turned into a full-blown migraine that was a continual throbbing with such an intense amount of pressure that you wanted to scream.

What's worse, when you went to grab your prescription medication to try and chase this pain away, you realized you had run out. You requested a refill as soon as you could, and thankfully, the doctor was prompt in filling it, but that meant having to drag yourself off the couch and out to the pharmacy. Of course you didn't want to keep suffering, but you also really didn't want to go out. Over the counter pain medication wasn’t helping so all you could do was lie there debating with yourself about whether you should go or not. You also hadn't eaten all day and knew you should fix something, but again, you didn't have it in you to move.

It was a crummy way to spend you day off, but such was life. You felt like the kid from Ferris Bueller's Day Off, lying there listless, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating your life's choices and feeling like you were dying.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. You groaned at the effort you had to make to pick it up from the coffee table. Your hand slowly slipped from under the blanket to blindly grope for the device. It fell on the floor, and you let out the most pitiful whine. Bending down to pick it up made your head throb harder.

You didn't even look to see who it was before you swiped on the screen to answer the call.

"...Hello..." you croaked out.

"Well, hello to you too," came the amused voice of your boyfriend on the phone.

Your eyes widened. "Oh. Hey, Zayne."

"I just got off of work. Are you still interested in going to that cafe we talked about?"

Your eyes slid shut. You had totally forgotten that the two of you had made plans to try out a new cafe that had opened up downtown recently. But with the way your head was hurting, you weren't up to going anywhere, even if it was with Zayne.

"I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that," you told him. "I'm not feeling well."

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice now laced with concern. "Do you have another migraine?"

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Correct, as usual, Doctor. I've had it since last night. I thought sleeping on it would help, but it won't go away."

"All right. I'll be right over."

You sat up a little. "Oh, you don't have to-"

"No, I don't," he agreed. "But I want to. That is, unless you'd prefer being alone?"

You sighed. He knew the answer to that. "I look gross right now..." You warned him.

"I'm sure I can handle it," was his warm response.

You decided not to argue any more. As you ended the call, you couldn't help feeling relieved that he was coming over.

"Go ahead and let yourself in." You texted him so you didn't have to get up. He knew the code to your door anyway.

It wasn't long after that Zayne appeared, striding through the front door. He was carrying two bags and also holding a cup holder that held two drinks. When he saw you, his face lit up with a gentle smile.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly. He knew to keep his voice down when you had a migraine.

"Bleh."

He sniffed out a short laugh at that. "That bad, huh?" He placed the bags and drinks on the coffee table. "Where is your medication? Did you take it yet?"

Your eyes skittered away from his face. "Well..."

"Well?" His tone became firmer. He was going into doctor mode. "Does that mean you haven't?"

You turned to bury your face in the cushions. "I ran out..."

"Do you need it refilled, then? Have you contacted your neurologist?"

"I did," you replied. "I just haven't gone to pick it up yet."

"I see."

You peeked up at him, worried you'd see that stern expression he'd give you when you were being lax with your health. Instead, you saw him slipping his overcoat back on.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to pick up your medication."

All of a sudden, you felt your eyes tearing up a little. Guilt flowed through you. "I'm sorry, you don't have to... I'm not trying to make you go get it for me..."

He turned to you and smiled. Then he walked over to your side and placed his hand on top of your head. His thumb gently swept aside your messy bangs.

"I know. It's fine, I want to go. In fact, you could have just asked me to get it for you while I was on my way here. I know how bad your migraines can get, so I want you to rest. Doctor's orders."

He took one of the drinks and handed it to you.

"I got you a chai with cinnamon and oat milk, just how you like it. Just relax. I'll be right back."

You sniffled a little and nodded, taking large sips of the drink so you wouldn't begin to cry. Zayne was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for and there were times when you wondered if you really deserved him.

He soon returned with a small paper bag in hand. Inside was your prescription for your migraines.

"Before you take it, let's make sure you eat something. How's your stomach today? Have you been feeling nauseous?" He inquired as he pulled out two styrofoam boxes from one of the bags.

"Fortunately, no. I just haven't felt like eating," was your answer.

"Good. The cafe we were going to go to today also offers soup, salad and sandwiches. How does tomato soup and grilled cheese sound?"

Your mouth began to water and a sudden growling noise erupted from you. Zayne's green eyes sparkled amusedly.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said. He opened one of the boxes and handed it to you. Inside was a sliced grilled cheese sandwich wrapped in napkins as well as a cup of tomato soup that was covered with a plastic lid.

"I'll get you a spoon," he told you.

While you waited, you took off the plastic soup lid and dipped the sandwich into the cup of soup. It was still warm and extremely delicious. You weren't sure why, but this was the perfect soup and sandwich combo for when you weren't feeling well. It was comforting.

Zayne came back from the kitchen with silverware, dessert plates and some napkins. He settled down into the couch beside you and picked up a plastic container that held a fresh-looking salad, with a cup of dressing on the side.

"That's all you wanted? A salad?"

"This is enough for me," he replied. "Besides, this isn't the main course. That's reserved for the desserts I brought." He nodded to the second bag. Inside you could spy cutely designed containers, all in pastel colors with elegant writings and cute symbols on them. You could only imagine what kind of cupcakes, macarons, and cheesecakes were inside.

Shaking your head with a smile, all you said was, "Oh, of course."

Once you were finished with your meal, Zayne retrieved the medicine from the paper bag. He read the directions on the bottle and handed you the proper amount of pills for you to take. Once you downed them with a swig of your drink, you decided to sit up on the couch, now next to Zayne, so you could lean against his side.

"Thanks, Zayne," you uttered softly.

He turned to look at you. "For what?"

"For everything; coming over, bringing food, going to grab my meds..." You sheepishly smiled. "You're always so sweet to me..."

He smiled and shook his head a little, his hand reaching behind you to rub your back. "You never need to thank me for anything like that. If you're not feeling well, of course I'm going to take care of you."

You felt yourself getting emotional again and, a little embarrassed for him to see you get all teary-eyed, you decided to lie down on him, placing your head in his lap, your face pressed against his stomach. You could hear Zayne's sweet, soft laughter and felt his hand upon your head.

"Perfect timing. I was going to ask you if you wanted a head massage."

You took hold of his free hand while he ran his fingers through your hair and massaged your scalp. You nuzzled his hand in thanks.

"I might fall asleep like this," you told him.

In return, he pulled the blanket over you and sat back into the couch to get more comfortable.

"Go ahead. We'll eat the desserts when you wake up."

238 notes · View notes

writeitharder · 9 days ago

Text

Working Overtime

Both Rio and Agatha are bummed that Agatha has to work late one night. So, Rio puts together a plan to help Agatha’s night move along and be more interesting.

Rio is a brat and you’re roped into her shenanigans.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: smut, oral sex, fingering, light biting, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, voyeurism, praise, bratty bottom!Rio, top!reader

(disclaimer it's currently 5:30am and I just smashed this out over the past two hours. I'm sleepy and not proof-reading. Have fun lmao)

------------------------------

Rio had just turned off the shower when her phone rang. She stepped out of the shower, pulling her towel around her body and removing her shower cap before grabbing her phone from the bathroom vanity. Agatha’s name lit up the screen and Rio smiled before swiping and answering the call, putting the phone on speaker as she inspected her reflection in the mirror. “Hey, mi vida. What’s up?” Rio said as she poked and prodded at her face, checking for any imperfections “Hi, my love. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m gonna be a bit late coming home. The higher ups requested an impromptu video conference” Agatha said and Rio pouted at the news.

“Seriously? I had plans for us tonight” Rio said with a small sigh “I know, honey” Agatha said softly and Rio ran a hand through her hair before she began drying herself. “Is anyone else still at the office with you?” she asked her wife as she dried herself off before grabbing her moisturiser and beginning to apply it to her body. “Just myself, Jen and one of the cleaners” Agatha explained and Rio nodded to herself “Alright. Do you want me to put your dinner in the oven for you?” she asked as Agatha sighed on the other end of the line. “I’ll probably just have something here. I might be able to duck down to one of the food vans nearby before they close and before the meeting” Agatha shrugs “Are you sure?” “Yeah, it’s fine. There are a couple places still open. As much as I’d rather be eating your cooking for dinner. Or just eating you for dinner” Agatha hummed. Rio felt heat pooling in the pit of her stomach as she thought about the times Agatha had forgone a delicious home-cooked meal in favour of sprawling Rio out on the dining room table or kitchen counter and devouring her wife instead.

Rio hummed in response before a devilish idea crossed her mind. “Well, try not to fill up on shitty food truck food and you can have me for dessert when you get home” she suggested and Agatha sighed, biting back a groan at the thought of coming home to her wife sitting on the table, legs spread, ready and waiting for her. “Fuck. Stupid execs” Agatha mumbled causing Rio to laugh “I know, mi amor. But just think of how much better it’ll be to finally get your mouth on me when you get home” Agatha groaned in response at the thought. “What are you doing right now?” Agatha asked as Rio picked her phone up and took a photo of her reflection in the mirror, the towel just lazily draped across her, simultaneously covering nothing and yet still covering everything Agatha would want to see. She gave an approving nod and sent the picture, waiting patiently for her wife’s reaction. Thankfully not having to wait long before hearing Agatha moan out a soft “Fuck” in response causing Rio to smirk as she walked to get dressed.

“I just showered” she explained and Agatha groaned “I can see that. Now what are you doing?” she asked and Rio seriously debated teasing her wife, getting her so riled up until she was squirming in her office chair. But thought better of it, knowing Agatha wouldn’t be able to focus on the conference and Rio didn’t want Agatha getting in trouble with the execs or being unable to focus. At least not like this. “I’m about to go make some food. How long before your meeting?” Rio asks as she looked through her closet for something to put on before deciding on a simple, somewhat sheer, black dress. “About half an hour” Agatha answers and Rio hums, pulling on the dress and checking her reflection, smiling at the way her breasts and her neat, trimmed bush was barely visible through the material of the dress. “You should go get some food, babe” “Yeah, probably” Agatha said with a sigh “Go get some dinner and endure your meeting, babe. I’ll be here when you get home. I love you” Rio said and Agatha hummed “I love you too. Have a good night, my love” Agatha said before ending the call. Rio walked back out of the closet and into the bathroom to put on some perfume and double check her appearance before deciding to put on some red lipstick, knowing how much it drove her wife wild.

She grinned at her reflection and chuckled to herself before grabbing her phone and scrolling through her contacts before tapping a name and waiting as the line rang for a few moments. “Hello?” you answer as you pause the show you had been watching “Hey pretty girl, what are you up to right now?” Rio purred and a shiver went up your spine at her smooth tone. “Uh, not much. Just watching a show. Why? What’s up?” you say and she hums on the other end of the line “I’m coming to pick you up. Be out front in 20” she simply says and hangs up before you can ask any other questions. “What the-?” you furrow your brows and look down at yourself, sighing at having to get up and get dressed now and not being able to keep relaxing and watching T.V. You walk to your bedroom and rummage through your closet before pulling out a plain white t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. “Classic fit. Can’t go wrong” you think to yourself as you check your reflection and nod before walking to your dresser and grabbing your hair brush, quickly running it through your hair then walking to pull on a pair of sneakers.

Ten minutes pass and you grab your keys, phone and wallet before heading outside to wait for Rio. You smile to yourself when she pulls up and honks the horn, rolling down a window and wolf-whistling at you. “Hey pretty mama, looking for a good time?” she called and you rolled your eyes and laugh before walking to get into the car and leaning over the centre console to press a quick kiss to her cheek before pulling your seatbelt on and she began driving. “So, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?” you ask with a small chuckle as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel when you stop at a red light “It’s a surprise” she smiled and you hummed, shrugging and accepting the answer. Looking out the window you watched as she drove you further into the city until you were surrounded by skyscrapers in basically every direction.

“Can I have a hint? Are we going to dinner? To a movie? Are we meeting Agatha somewhere?” you ask before dramatically gasping “You’re taking me to a sex dungeon, aren’t you? Mama always told me this would happen when I moved to the city!” you say in a dramatic southern accent as Rio laughs at you and shakes her head. “You caught me. I’m going to Christian Grey your ass” she joked and you both laugh as the car slows to a stop outside of a large building. You look up at the towering structure, barely able to read the letters on top of the building. Stark House. You furrow your brows for a moment before Rio linked her arm with yours and lead you up the stairs towards the building entrance. “Good evening, Mrs Vidal” a man in a sleek black suit standing at the entrance said as he opened the door for Rio and yourself. “Hey Herb” Rio smiled and pulled you into the building and through the lobby, giving the receptionist a quick, polite smile as she led you to some elevators.

“Can I know what this is now?” you laugh as you both step into the elevator and she presses the button for the 18th floor before you’re pushed back against one of the walls. The cool metal causing you to gasp before her mouth was on yours in a heated, hungry kiss that quickly escalated to an impromptu make out session. You chuckle against her lips in surprise before your laugh is cut off at its peak, turning into a breathy “Oh” as you stumble forward slightly when Rio’s hand cups you through your jeans. “Fuck, Rio” you sigh as she adds pressure, palming at your cunt through your jeans and your hips grind against her hand, desperate for more. Your hand comes up and cups her breast through her dress, pinching and rolling her already hardened nipple between your fingers, eliciting a low moan before she steps back and the elevator dings as the doors open.

You step out and take a second to try and compose yourself as you find yourself on what looked like an office floor. Not getting a moment to settle the fire in your stomach before Rio’s hand grabbed yours and she began pulling you through the mass of cubicles and desks towards a private office with the door closed. You furrowed your brows as you stop in front of the room and your eyes scan the name plaque on the door.

Chief Operating Officer. A. Harkness.

You smile to yourself at the realisation that the two of you are visiting Agatha. “Perhaps a sweet little visit to help her through a late shift” you think to yourself before Rio pushes the handle and opens the door, stepping into the office as you hear Agatha’s voice. Rio steps aside and you step into view and can’t help but smile and blush as you notice the way Agatha sits up straight in her chair and her already beautiful blue eyes sparkle when she spots you. You’re about to say hi when Rio taps your arm and presses a finger to her lips, mouthing the word ‘meeting’ to you and you give an understanding nod, instead opting to give Agatha a small wave. She bites back a smile as her eyes rake up and down you and her wife’s bodies, taking in your outfits as you do the same for her. Biting your lip as you take in her outfit, a plain burgundy suit with a simple white blouse. Something about Agatha in suits really got to you in the best way.

You had been seeing Agatha and Rio for about three months and things had been going better than you had expected. You had been sceptical at first, having never been in anything other than monogamous relationships in the past. But there was something so magnetic and electric between the three of you that you had agreed to have a one-night stand with them. No strings attached. Just three women who were attracted to each other coming together for a night of fun. You had expected maybe an hour or so of sex that night but before you knew it the clock had gone from 10pm to 3am and it still wasn’t until almost 5am that the three of you finally fell asleep, a mess of tangled limbs in a hotel room together. When you agreed to a one-time thing, you had politely requested a hotel room, not wanting any risks of mess or attachment by either them ending up back at your place or you ending up at theirs. You had no interest in knowing where these two beautiful women lived. Okay, that’s a lie, you had interest in knowing about them but you just couldn’t see it going well if you pursued a relationship with an already married couple. But, lo and behold, here you were. Two months later, absolutely besotted with these two magnificent women and wondering how you lived your life monogamously and thanking your brain for deciding to give them a chance.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear some quiet rummaging and zone back in to see Rio grabbing a notepad and pen from Agatha’s desk before writing something down and turning it to show her wife.

Pretend we’re not here

Agatha fights back a chuckle but it quickly changes to a strangled cough when Rio pulls the straps of her dress off of her shoulders and allows the garment to fall to the floor, leaving her standing nude in the middle of the room in front of you and her wife. Your jaw drops open as Agatha continues coughing before grabbing her water bottle and taking a few sips and nodding with a forced smile when she’s asked by someone on the video call if she’s alright. The meeting continues and Agatha gives you a look, silently asking what was happening. You shrug and shake your head, just as gobsmacked and out of the loop as she is when Rio grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into another heated kiss. You let out a muffled moan of surprise at her actions and she moves her hand to the small of your back, sliding her hand up under your shirt and dragging her nails up and down your back.

“Gotta be quiet, remember baby?” she hums against your lips, breaking the kiss as she grabs your hand and leads it down her body before guiding it between her legs and you have to bite your lip so that you don’t moan. She’s absolutely soaked. “Fuck” you say silently and she smirks, her gaze darkened with lust as she lifts your hand to her face and takes your fingers, now slick with her arousal into her mouth. Hallowing out her cheeks and swirling her tongue around your digits, cleaning them. Your mouth drops open at her actions as you glance to Agatha out of the corner of your eye and see her crossing her legs, a light flush beginning to spread across her chest.

You watch as Rio bobs her head back and forth on your surely clean by now fingers. Biting your lip so hard that you swear you can taste blood. You watch, enraptured as she pulls your fingers from her mouth and kisses you again, allowing you to taste her arousal on her tongue and your knees almost give out. “Jesus Christ. This can’t actually be happening. This has to be a dream” you think to yourself as the woman in front of you breaks the kiss and turns around, bending slightly over her wife’s desk and giving her ass a teasing wiggle. Her new position gave you a perfect view of her glistening pussy and you lick your lips, hypnotised by the woman.

Before you can even stop and think about what you’re doing and where you are, you walk forward and drop to your knees behind Rio. You tap her thigh lightly and she widens her stance before you reach a hand up and press on the small of her back, bending her over further. The entirety of her torso now pressed against the desk, bending her at an almost 90-degree angle. Your mind goes hazy as you take a deep breath, inhaling her scent and your mouth waters before you lean forward and drag your flattened tongue through her slit.

You hear a stifled whimper above you and see her hands gripping the edge of the desk as you hear Agatha’s chair squeak slightly and you imagine that she’s shifting her position. Probably trying to fight the heat growing between her legs at the fact that you were currently eating out her fully nude wife, bent over her desk in her work office while she was on the other side of the desk on a video conference. You let out a muffled moan at the thought of Agatha squirming, unable to do anything while you fucked her wife in front of her and feel Rio’s thighs tremble slightly from the vibrations.

You continue eating her out, alternating between giving her clit attention and circling your tongue around her entrance before thrusting it inside of her and you hear some soft rustling before you’re pulled back by your hair. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to fight the sound that threatens to spill from your lips at the action and look up and see Rio tapping on the notepad from earlier. On the paper you see a single, hastily scribbled word.

Fingers.

You give her a questioning look and she nods. You lean back in and tease her clit with your tongue as you move your hand, about to slide your fingers into her when she taps the top of your head, getting your attention again.

You frown slightly and give her another questioning look before she gestures with her hand for you to stand up. “Oh” you say softly in understanding and she nods as you quickly lean forward and give her perfectly round ass cheek a playful bite, smirking when you hear her breath catch in her throat at the action. You stand up behind her, rubbing the bite mark on her ass as she sighs softly. You glance over her shoulder as you press a kiss to it and lock eyes with Agatha. You see a glint of desperation and warning in her eyes and you blow her a teasing kiss, noticing the way her grip on her pencil tightened.

You reached your hand down between your body and Rio’s and slid two fingers into her easily. Her body rocked forward slightly and you watched as Agatha bit her lip and Rio’s mouth fell open in a silent moan. “Like this, princesa?” you whisper in Rio’s ear with a smirk and she bites back a whimper, nodding her head frantically and you grin wickedly as you see Agatha’s thighs rubbing together and she uses her free hand to grip the arm of her chair. “Gotta be quiet, baby” you echo her words from earlier and Rio nods, pushing her ass back when you slide your fingers back out until just the tips are inside of her. Moving your free hand to her hip, you dig your nails in, a silent warning for her to stay still and her movements stop and she gives a quick nod.

“Good girl” you murmur as you stay like that, feeling Rio clenching around your fingertips, desperately trying to pull you further in. But your eyes are locked on Agatha squirming in her chair, trying her hardest to pay attention to the conference while you have her wife’s cunt wrapped around your fingers a mere six feet away. You keep your gaze fixated on Agatha as you lift your free hand and trace Rio’s jawline with a featherlight touch before slamming your fingers fully into her and covering her mouth with your hand. Grinning devilishly as you feel her muffled sounds against your hand and you see Agatha snap her pencil in half as you began fucking Rio roughly, just the way that you knew made her knees weak and her mind turn to mush. Curling your fingers perfectly inside her, you keep your hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as your eyes burn into Agatha and you watch the red flushing her chest move up her neck and to her cheeks as she fought to keep her attention on her computer screen.

“You’re taking me so well, princesa. Can you fit one more?” you coo in Rio’s ear and she nods desperately, moaning a muffled “please” against your hand as you smile and lean down to kiss along her shoulder towards her neck. You push a third finger into her and she grips the edges of the table, her back arching as you give her a second to adjust before you begin slowly moving your fingers in and out of her. “So good” she whispers against your hand before you press your hand against her mouth tighter, resuming the same fast, rough pace as before and sink your teeth into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. You feel her walls flutter around your fingers before she clenches around you, biting into the palm of your hand as her body spasms and trembles against yours and you continue to fuck her through her orgasm.

You kiss her neck just behind her ear and move the hand that was covering her mouth, wrapping your arm around her waist to hold her up as she quivered from the aftershocks of her orgasm. “You did so good, baby” you whisper as she lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh before standing up straight and you clean the mess she had made from your fingers. All the while staring directly into Agatha’s eyes which were now almost completely swallowed up by how dilated her pupils had become from watching yourself and Rio. You step back when Rio moves from where she had been standing and walked to pull her dress back on, straightening herself out before looking at Agatha with a wicked grin. “Bye baby” Rio said softly and grabbed your hand, pulling you back out of the office as you give Agatha a quick wave and allow yourself to be pulled from the room by her wife.

“Thank you for your time. I will send over that paperwork ASAP. Have a good night and enjoy the long weekend. Bye” you hear Agatha say quickly before you hear some clattering followed by a door opening and some fast footsteps. “Get your asses back here, right now!” Agatha’s voice snapped from behind you as Rio turned to you with a smirk and hurried you into the elevator before Agatha turned the corner and rushed towards the elevator. “Come on!” Rio said and frantically pressed the button for the ground floor then the button that closes the doors. Cackling as the metal doors closed just before Agatha reached the elevator. “She’s gonna rip us to shreds, isn’t she?” you ask as you turn and look at Rio who nods with an almost deranged grin “Oh, we’re gonna have so much fun tonight, baby” she beamed and you feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of what Agatha was going to do to you both when you got back to their home.

180 notes · View notes

redpill-tfs · 2 months ago

Text

Red Wave

January 1st, 2025

Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.

Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.

Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?

February 10th, 2025

Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...

March 12th, 2025

So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.

April 15th, 2025

Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.

Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.

May 18th, 2025

Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.

June 30th, 2025

This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?

July 23rd, 2025

I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.

August 11th, 2025

I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.

September 7th, 2025

Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.

October 20th, 2025

Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.

I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.

November 30th, 2025

Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

December 1st, 2025

The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.

#lib to con #liberal to conservative #atheist to christian #transformation #male transformation #suit and tie #preppy tf

175 notes · View notes

unacknowledgeable · 2 months ago

Note

What does Barbara Think of SK reader and Gordon’s relationship? Does she get jealous or try to convince her dad to stop being around reader?

Just like the larger majority of the batfam, Barbara doesn’t put much thought into noticing you, but once they start to, she's gonna be pretty shocked that the colleague her dad is always talking about is Bruce’s kid.

Depending on when Barbara notices Reader hanging out with Gordon, she’ll definitely give some side eye at first, but ultimately, her own budding obsession will win out. She’ll start crashing movie nights with you and Gordon, popping by the station more often, peppering in questions about you to her dad.

Gordon is all too happy to oblige her sudden interest in you, because his kids!!! Are taking an interest in each other!!! And bonding!!! Finally!!!

But when she finds out what you do? Yeah, she’ll be pissed at first, accuse you of using her dad so you could get away with it. But after more research, will conclude that it was probably one of the few (semi)stable relationships you actually had and will fight any of the other family members who say otherwise (cough cough, Dick and Damian cough)

I imagine her going and crashing at her dads house, because it's closer to the clock tower than her own apartment and she was just too tired to bother. Her and Tim had spent half the night trying to find out everything they could about this family member that they somehow knew next to nothing about, having to deal with the varying levels of sulking all at once was exhausting, but the levels of panic when they sent Jason and Cass to your apartment, only to find it empty, was worse.

They checked your workplace after that, and based on your friends' social media you weren't out clubbing with them either. So they had no idea where you were or where you could possibly be. Calling off the search after hours of looking was difficult and she was pretty sure no one actually listened to her and Alfred’s warnings of sleep deprivation.

She makes a beeline for her old bedroom, ready to finally sleep and be prepared to start the search again in the morning, when she stops, and slowly rolls back down the hall, to the kitchen, where somehow the lights are on at 4 in the morning.

And there you are, sipping tea while scrolling on your phone, leaning against the sink like she hadn't just spent the last 11 hours looking for you.

“....You're in my house.” she stated, dumbstruck, and that had you looking up, staring like a deer in headlights or a kid with their hands caught in the cookie jar..

“Uh… yeah”, was said slowly in reply, the lingering eye contact broken only by Barbara looking down to see your clothes

“You're in pjs…were you sleeping here?” the dots are sprouting up faster than Barbra could connect them, leaving her reeling as you side step the counter and walk past, rather rigidly, as she’ll recall later.

“It was closer to the station, late nights and early mornings, y’know how it is.” you half shrug as you sit on the couch, the coffee table littered with case files, a pillow on one end of the sofa, and a bunched up comforter on the other. Amidst wondering if you knew just how well she understood, it wasn't far fetched to think you might know about the families vigilantism, she was struck by just how… at home you looked.

You had her dads ‘#1 commissioner mug’ in hand and you sat criss-cross on the couch like you had hundreds of times before, pulling your laptop over to you and effectively ending the short conversation. Shutting her out with ease, it stung, how often had that been done to you?

Returning to her own room, she sighs as she messages the family chat to update them on your whereabouts, she really wasn't getting any sleep tonight, huh? The eerie quiet before her phone started blowing up with messages was a testament to that.

Thanks for the ask! Hope you enjoyed!

~Masterlist~

333 notes · View notes

verdantlights · 5 months ago

Text

Thoughts/Analysis Part 2 (but its coherent)

OKay so i slept (finally) after staying up since wednesday morning and only getting roughly 5 hours of sleep in total?? until I finally managed to get decent hours of sleep last night. anyways. i am still not normal in the slightest over round 7 but i have many more thoughts, am a lot more coherent, and have had it swimming in my head for a while.

TW for mentions of drug use. I'm gonna start with Luka. I've stated in the edit I made of the original post as well as in a few reblogs, but Luka is a victim. A lot of people are Luka haters, and that's valid! I am also, to an extent, a Luka hater.... even if I have a thing for blonde twinks with issues. But his character is also incredibly interesting. If you are familiar with Honkai: Star Rail, then you might understand what I'm saying when I think Luka is a combination of both Sunday AND Robin. He has the trapped bird in a cage mentality from Robin with the need for order and control mentality from Sunday. Order and control referring to winning being the only thing keeping his sanity in check.

Luka, as a human pet, is aware that he is playing a losing game. He needs to win, but he knows that winning Season 50 is not the end. He may have won against Till, but now the segyein are going to put him against Hyuna, considering Hyuna and Mizi were referred to as special guests. The way he looked at Hyuna in that last scene was part of him realizing this. It's the face you pull when you realize something horrible, but you need to keep face/keep your composure.

Their ear pieces are similar to their collars in that they show the emotions of the wearer. We can clearly see Till's earpiece glowing red the entire time (up until Mizi appears), and Luka's is constantly glowing green. Luka was seen in hysterics pretty much the entire time like the one frame where he's holding in his laughter.

Luka was drugged on something that makes him euphoric and lose his sense of control, like weed or cocaine. He found fucking with Till to be the funniest thing ever, but it's not normal for Luka to be so outwardly expressive of his elation. We know he enjoyed fucking with Mizi, even if it let to getting his ass beat, but even then, he wasn't as expressive then as he was with Till. That leads me to believe that he has something in his system to heighten his emotional output as well as some sort of adrenaline drug like what Till was most likely given.

What bugs me is that they don't show us what color his earpiece is as he looks at Hyuna. We see Till's earpiece turn green at Mizi, but does Luka's stay green as he looks at Hyuna? I feel it was orange, but that's just me.

Luka now knows what's about to happen, which is also why Hyuna tries to stop Mizi. Hyuna knew the whole time that if they were to save Till, they'd be walking straight into the trap. Mizi's heart is too kind and she's desperate to save Till.

Thankfully, what Hyuna had gone there for originally seems to be completed. Whatever files she was downloading was complete before she went after Mizi, and I think that's where were gonna see Issac and Dewey again. I think she might've been uploading those files to them so that they can take the lead from there. This leads me to my prediction for the next episode. (ill get to till last, hes my little meow meow and im not normal about him)

I don't think Blink Gone is done. I believe there is a part two to the Finals, and that round 7 wasn't even the final round. I've already stated that the most likely thing to happen next is Luka v Hyuna, but then I also talked about Issac and Dewey.

Hyuna could have gotten her hands on high profile data regarding Alien Stage. She sends the data to Dewssac, and they shut down the stage from the inside, allowing the resistance to come in and do a massive sweep, hopefully before either Hyuna, Luka, or Mizi dies.

Now, as for Mizi. We know Mizi is the main character, and there are people who are saying Till's death boosts her hero arc. Now there are two ways I see this happening, either:

Vivinos keeps up their streak of tragedy and kills off everyone, leaving Mizi isolated entirely.

Or someone (dewssac, hyuna, mizi, maybe even luka) pull through and live to save more people.

If it's the first one, Till is dead dead. If the second, Till has a chance at being alive.

There are many reasons why Till is most likely alive, and as a hopeful feeler... I also am clinging onto the more hopeful ending (the second option). Not just because "Haha guys I need Till to be alive, he's my bias" but also because seeing Mizi completely isolated and forced to fake a smile and perform would absolutely fucking destroy me and I don't think I'd ever be the same after that, honestly. Like that genuinely scares me.

There's the narrative of ALNST and vivimeng's beautiful storytelling. That is my number one hopeful reasoning for Till being alive. If Till dies here, it would be utterly nonsensical and it would ruin the narrative. It would completely void all of Ivan's character, for starters. I was just talking about this with @rockwgooglyeyes and Vant (idt they wanna be tagged here), but Ivan's character is static. He is not dynamic or fluid, but he is extraordinarily complex which makes up for it. He never really had an arc of his own unless you count what happened in his past during/before being bought by Unsha. His death is meant to haunt the narrative, meant to haunt Till. So why would he die, only for Till to die a few hours later? It would completely ruin what he was meant for and it would be so unsatisfying and bitter.

However, there's also the thematics of ALNST. Rock called out @pwippy for this already, but I'm gonna call them out too because fuck you plip (/j i love you plipster). Rock put it really well in these two excerpts I took from his post:

"Alien Stage is a universe full of suffering and pain for humans, forced to perform until they literally die on stage, all for the entertainment of the audience. It's not even meant as a way of exerting control or oppressing them, though it serves that purpose, because why would the seygein bother to oppress something that can't even fight back? Why go to the trouble of controlling something that is just a pet, whose cries are the fuel for a new age?"

Once again mentioning the Hunger Games because I genuinely can't help myself I love THG way too much, but that's the key difference between ALNST and THG: the human pets aren't being forced to do this because of a past rebellion and are being punished by the oppressing government... They're being thrown into this for fun. Full credit to @alien-til-i-stage who said this as a joke, but it is really fucking real, but the segyein bringing their human pets to watch ALNST in the audience are like people bringing dogs to a dog fight in real life. And that, I fear, puts into perspective as to just how much of a pet the humans are to the segyein. They are only there for entertainment. The resistance is mostly a thorn in their side as of right now (dewey and issac better change that next episode or istg) and killing these humans is simply just fun for them. They know humans can be hostile, just like dogs, but they tame them and make them docile and obedient, only to make them kill each other in the end, even if it's through a singing competition rather than an all out teeth and claws brawl. (except for round 5, that doesnt count)

"In this world of pain and suffering, perhaps death is a mercy. If Till is truly dead, then he no longer a tool for his oppressors, he is free of their control. For Ivan and Sua both of their deaths were mercies to them- Ivan was able to die for the one he loved, as was Sua, and neither of them were forced to live in a world without their beloved."

(thank you rock i love you pookie snookie)

He also mentions that it's not in character for Till to die, which I completely agree with. Till's persona is that of someone who wants to win, but not in the same way Luka needs to win. Till wants to win to live and survive with those he loves, he wants to win to beat the system, but considering how dystopian of a world this is, as much as he wants to win and save Mizi, he craves death as a freedom.

That out of the way, another thing that @junebluues actually got me to think about was this:

The bomb has Till's eyes and is crying as it knows it's going to die (assuming it's a sentient alien like Freddie). And the comparison here honestly opened my eyes a little bit and got me thinking.

Was Till a catalyst? Because that was a smoke bomb. I ended up thinking about it for a minute and came up with three possibilities where Till is a bomb/smoke bomb:

Mizi is using Till to hide her feelings

Till is the bomb that sets off a chain of events

Till is used to hide/cover up the real plan for either the segyein or for the resistance

I don't think it's the first one, I feel like it'd be closer to the other two, but any three of those could work. Because Mizi's feelings of despair over her situation can be hidden behind the hope as she reached out for Till. But as the smoke clears (Till dies) she remembers that it was, in fact, a bomb.

EDIT: Also, the lyric that plays during the smoke bomb scene is "No, don't look back now" which also kinda leads me to believe that Till is the start of a chain/domino effect. Once you knock the first domino, you can't go back.

I think someone somewhere had also talked about Till being forced to be used as a catalyst/bait again considering how well it worked here. There's a good chance Urak might have supplied the drugs to Till and also paid out or WAS paid out by another person to use Till as bait. Urak wouldn't want his pet that he is grossly possessive over to die that easily without every ounce of use being wrung out of him,,, something something Till being a Trojan Horse of sorts (thanks rock for that one, too).

EDIT: I also remembered that during the sequence in the song where the audience is singing the chorus and we see Ivan on the screens, is when Till looks like he's about to pass out. What gets me here is the fact that it is quite literally a chorus of vultures. The audience singing the chorus with images of Ivan surrounding him and seeing Luka mimic Ivan made Till realize that he was surrounded and that's when he started losing hope. It's why his reaction to Mizi is so prominent, because it's like she was there to save him from the vultures. The audience singing is my favorite and also least favorite part of the video/song because the feeling of being surrounded and cornered with everyone against you and their voices echoing in your head... really does it for me. I really want to animate this sequence from up close in Till's POV.

Anyways the 4th reason i had for the bomb theory was that Till is smoking hot (sorry). okay im done now i think,,,,,, i might actually come back with more because i think i forgot something... but i cant remember..... i forgor.....

other tags: @shakingparadigm @aakaneeee @ivanttakethis @k9punkout @crustyfloor @apriciticreveries @bluemoonscape @tsukacchako @nottoonedin @paperstarry

side note that i genuinely put more effort into my analyses than i have ever put into any school essay ever

edit: FUCK I WAS SUPPOSED TO ANALYZE THE LYRICS AGAIN GOD DAMNIT i dont feel like doing that anymore ill just do it later maybe

226 notes · View notes

butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 1 month ago

Text

Daddy Issues - Johnny Seo x Reader

Now Playing: » Daddy Issues « The Neighbourhood 3:27 ─────〇─ 4:16 ⇄ ◃◃ II ▹▹ ↻

Pairing: Johnny x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 15,382 Total Word Count: 49,636 Part 3 of 3 (Part 1) (Part 2) -

Playlist Masterlist NCT Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, cunnilingus, mating press, pet names), Age Gap, minor angst, not bad but not great relationship with dad

Summary: 🎵 Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues 🎵 or No one makes Y/n feel more rejected that her father. That's what leads her to seek friendship with a bartender

A/N: bloody finALLY FINISHED!! I am literally at work as I post all of these, lol I am so sorry it took this long to publish this fic, I did not expect it to take this song, but I am so glad to have it done now, lol Anyways, I hope you enjoy this last part 💚

Johnny had texted her earlier in the evening. The message was short and simple.

I’m at work and it’s dead here. I’m bored out of my mind.

It didn’t take much for Y/n to offer to swing by and keep him company. After all, she wasn’t doing anything important, and Johnny always had a way of making her nights a little more interesting.

That’s how she found herself sitting at the far end of the bar, drink a dry lemonade with lime cordial while Johnny wiped down the counter.

The place was nearly empty, other than a couple of regulars. Music played softly in the background, just loud enough to fill the silence without overwhelming it.

Johnny leaned his elbows on the bar in front of her, a grin tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to come, you know. I was more than happy to just text you.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, well, I figured you’d find a way to rope me into coming over eventually. Might as well make it easy for you.”

He laughed, that low, easy sound that made it hard not to smile. “What can I say? I’m persuasive.”

God, his smile mad her head roll.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, you’re here, aren’t you?” He gave her a wink before straightening up and heading toward the other side as a new customer wandered in. “Hold that thought,” he said over his shoulder, his voice light.

Y/n watched him work, effortlessly slipping into bartender mode, greeting the customer, pouring a drink, and making casual conversation as usual.

When he returned, he placed his hands on the counter again, leaning slightly toward her. “Alright, where were we?”

“Me being the only salvation for your boredom,” she said.

Johnny tilted his head in mock offense. “Wow. I invite you to my workplace for free drinks and entertainment, and this is the respect I get?”

Y/n chuckled. “Free fizzy. Score!”

“Still counts.” He chuckled.

The night continued like that, easy banter and light-hearted teasing. As another hour passed, Y/n propped her chin on her hand, watching as Johnny restocked the shelves behind the bar.

“So, how long until you’re done here?” she asked, glancing at the clock.

“About an hour, give or take,” he said, turning around to face her. “Why, tired already?”

“Nope, just wondering if you wanna grab something to eat after.”

Johnny smiled. “You gonna try pay this time?”

Y/n sat up straighter. “Fucking right, I am.”

“We’ll see,” he said with a laugh before adding, “But yeah, that sounds good.”

And as Y/n sat there, watching Johnny work and listening to the low hum of music. It wasn’t a big night out or anything fancy, but sometimes, these were the best nights.

As the clock struck midnight and the last of the bar’s patrons filtered out, Johnny flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up.

Y/n leaned back in her seat, watching as he went through the motions of shutting everything down, cleaning glasses, wiping down the bar, and double-checking the till.

“Damn, you’re fast,” Y/n said, watching him place the last glass on the shelf.

“You learn how to close up quick when all you wanna do is get out and eat.” He shot her a grin before grabbing his jacket from behind the bar and slinging it over his shoulder. “Speaking of which, you still up for grabbing something?”

Y/n hopped off her chair. “Depends. Where are we going? Everything’s probably closed by now.”

Johnny glanced at the time on his phone and shrugged. “Yeah, nothing proper’s open this late, but…” He paused, giving her a knowing look. “I know a spot. It’s this little 24-hour fried chicken place. Greasy, messy, and definitely not gourmet, but it’s good. What do you say?”

Y/n’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. “I’m down.”

“Let’s go.” He opened the door for her, locking it behind them once she stepped out.

The night air was crisp, a faint chill brushing against their skin as they made their way to Johnny’s car parked out back. The ride was calm, the city around them dim and sleepy, with only the occasional streetlight illuminating their path.

A few minutes later, Johnny pulled up in front of a small joint with a neon sign that read Fried & True - Open 24/7. Despite the hour, the place still had a cozy, welcoming vibe, with warm light spilling out onto the pavement.

They got out, and as Johnny locked the car, he gave Y/n a glance. “This chicken is, no joke, the best you’ll ever try.”

Y/n laughed. “Big promises for fried chicken.”

“Hey, this is very serious for me,” Johnny said, clearly joking.

Inside, the smell of crispy fried goodness filled the air. Y/n looked around the little store and smiled. When Johnny was about to approach the counter, Y/n rushed in front.

“Ah! No, you sit your ass down, you ain’t paying for this!” Y/n pointed to a table off to the side.

Johnny huffed out a chuckle before walking over to take a seat. Looking up at the menu, Y/n chose three different flavours of chicken and some chips to go.

As Y/n made her way over to the table, Johnny leaned back in his seat, eyes half-lidded but still full of that lazy charm. “So, did hanging out at the bar beat whatever else you had planned tonight?”

Y/n snorted. “You mean staying home doing fuck all? Yeah, you win.”

“Well, yeah. I was always gonna win.” He jested. “I’m pretty good company?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n teased, resting her chin in her hand. “You did trick me into hanging out at an empty bar for hours.”

“And now you get to hang out with me, that’s a pretty good deal,” Johnny shot back.

Before Y/n could respond, their food arrived, neatly packed in to-go boxes. Johnny grabbed the bag and held the door open for her as they stepped back outside.

The ride back was quiet, Y/n rested her head against the window, content with how the night had turned out. Soon, they arrived at Johnny’s apartment. He parked, grabbed the bag of food, and led the way up.

Inside, Y/n made herself comfortable on the couch while Johnny disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with plates and drinks.

He set everything down on the coffee table and handed her a plate.

“After this, you’ll never think of another fried chicken again,” he joked, opening the to-go box.

Y/n laughed, grabbing a piece of chicken. “I don’t doubt it.”

They ate together, the conversation flowing easily between bites. Johnny put on some show in the background, creating a relaxed atmosphere. The food was exactly as good as Johnny had promised.

“We should do this more often,” Y/n said, leaning back against the couch.

Johnny grinned, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Told you. Stick around, and I’ll introduce you to all the best things.”

Y/n chuckled, finishing off the last of her fries. Johnny leaned back in his seat as his gaze rested on Y/n, his expression calm but thoughtful.

Y/n met his eyes, and for a moment, she felt that familiar flutter in her chest. Her mind drifted back to that night at the club, the things he’d said, the way he’d looked at her, the intensity behind his words.

Her heart dropped. It hadn’t left her mind since.

Shifting slightly in her seat and lowering her eyes to the floor, Y/n hesitated before speaking. “Uh, Johnny…”

“Yes, Y/n?” he responded, his eyes searched hers curiously.

“Do you…remember what you said to me at the club the other week?” she asked, her voice quieter now, uncertain.

Johnny’s posture stiffened just slightly, his gaze falling to his hands. He shifted in his seat, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest.

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, his voice low. “I remember.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing. “Can you…explain what you meant?”

She didn’t want to tiptoe around it anymore. His words had been replaying in her mind all week, how he said he’d make her feel special, feel good, feel worthy.

But that night, they’d both been under the influence of alcohol, and she wanted clarity, wanted to hear it from him while they were both sober.

Johnny sighed, running a hand through his hair as if trying to figure out where to begin. “Yeah…you should know,” he said, his tone softening.

He leaned back into the couch, settling in as if preparing himself for a long explanation. “My dad…left me and my mum when I was young.”

Y/n’s brows furrowed in confusion. What?

“I was probably five or six when he walked out on us…I never knew where he went, but he still sent money to my mum every now and then,” Johnny said, his voice quiet, distant.

Y/n blinked, trying to process what he was saying. What on earth was he talkin–

Shit.

Suddenly, it hit her. Johnny had briefly mentioned at the club how he could relate to her daddy issues. Her heart sank as she remembered that moment.

She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, seeing the pain on his face, she realised how deeply it ran. Her face dropped, filled with sorrow as she listened.

“I hated him,” Johnny admitted, his voice growing heavier. “He ruined my life without even being in it.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away for a second, as though trying to keep himself composed. “Then when I was seventeen, I got news from my mum that…he died.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her gaze falling to Johnny’s hands. She noticed the slight tremor in them and how his eyes glistened, the emotions he tried to bury rising to the surface. Without thinking, she reached out and gently took his hand in hers, squeezing it in silent support.

“I didn’t cry when he left at first,” Johnny continued, his voice breaking slightly.

“But when I found out he was dead, I couldn’t stop. That’s when I realised...I would never have a father present in my life. Not even the hope of one.” His voice cracked, and before Y/n could say anything, tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She launched forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Johnny didn’t resist, instead, he let himself fall into her comfort, his broad shoulders trembling as he broke down.

Y/n had never seen Johnny like this before. He was always the strong one, the one who picked up her broken emotions, who made things better with his happy nature and warm presence. But now, here he was, vulnerable and raw, the weight of years of buried pain finally catching up to him.

“It’s okay, Johnny,” she whispered, gently running her hand through his hair. “You don’t have to hold it all in anymore. I’m here.”

He clung to her like she was the only thing grounding him at that moment, his tears dampening her shirt, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was being there for him, the way he’d always been there for her.

Minutes passed, and slowly, Johnny’s sobs began to fade. His breathing steadied, but he didn’t loosen his grip on Y/n. He clung to her as he released the emotions he’d kept buried for so long.

Y/n rested her chin on his shoulder, her hand rubbing slow circles on his back. She remembered how many times Johnny had comforted her, his words, his comfort, the way he always seemed to know what to say to make things better. Now, it was her turn.

“You know,” she began softly, her voice low but steady, “you are so amazing. You’ve grown up to be an amazing man. That fuckhead missed out on a wonderful son.”

Johnny’s breath hitched slightly, but he stayed silent, listening.

“You always make things better for me,” Y/n continued. “Whenever I felt like I couldn’t handle things, you were there. You didn’t judge me, didn’t ask for anything in return. You just stayed. And that helped more than you know.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I will always be here for you when you need me.”

Johnny swallowed hard, his eyes still glassy with tears, but she could see how her words hit him. He was always the shoulder to lean on, he never really had the sentiment returned until now.

Johnny sniffled, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he tried to sit up straighter, regaining his composure. “God, that was embarrassing,” he muttered, avoiding Y/n’s gaze.

Y/n tilted her head. “If that was embarrassing, then I should be humiliated after all the times I cried my heart out to you.”

Johnny paused, glancing at her, and for the first time since the conversation began, a genuine chuckle escaped his lips. “Go ahead and cry all you want, I can’t judge you.”

They laughed together, the tension slowly easing into something lighter, something more familiar. Without saying anything else, Johnny reached out, pulling Y/n into his arms. This time, it wasn’t for comfort, it was just to hold her, like a giant teddy bear, solid and warm.

Y/n leaned into him, letting herself relax against his chest. They didn’t need words. The TV played softly in the background, filling the room with a quiet hum as they sat there, wrapped in each other’s presence.

This wasn’t the conversation she had planned to have, but it was one she truly appreciated. Seeing Johnny open up, laying bare emotions he usually kept hidden behind his easygoing exterior, made her realise just how much he cared.

It wasn’t an easy conversation, but in that moment, she knew it brought them closer.

Y/n stared at her phone, blinking a few times to make sure she was reading the email correctly.

Congratulations on your Achievement! You’ve been selected to receive an award for excelling in Biochemistry this semester. Please attend the prizegiving ceremony on…

The words practically leapt off the screen, and before she could stop herself, a wide grin spread across her face.

She reread the email, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it, and then immediately jumped to her feet, excitement bubbling up inside her.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed to herself, clutching the phone tightly.

For a moment, Y/n stood there, feeling a bit silly for how excited she was over a university award. It wasn’t like she was getting a Nobel Prize or anything, but still…it made her feel good.

Better about herself, actually. All those late nights cramming in the library, those moments where she thought she wasn’t smart enough, weren’t for nothing after all. Someone had noticed her efforts, and that recognition, however small, felt like a win.

And hey, there were gift vouchers that came with these awards, which was definitely a nice bonus.

Still smiling to herself, Y/n couldn’t help but think of Johnny. She felt a little ridiculous wanting to tell him right away, but he’d always been the one cheering her on when she was doubting herself the most.

She almost started typing a message to Johnny, but then paused, biting her lip. As much as she wanted to tell him, she knew Yangyang would give her shit if he found out she’d told someone else before him.

She quickly pulled up his number and gave him a call.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yangyang’s voice came through, light and cheerful as always.

“I just got an email…I’m getting an award for being an excelling student in biochem,” Y/n said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

“Yo! Really?!” Yangyang exclaimed. “We have to go out to celebrate. Clubbing! Shots! Full-on party mode.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing. “Yeah, no. I was thinking of something a little more chill. We already went clubbing a couple weeks ago.”

“Fine, fine,” Yangyang teased. “How about dinner, then? I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

“That sounds perfect,” Y/n said, smiling. “Thanks, Yangyang.”

“Of course! You deserve it,” he said sincerely.

Y/n hung up the call, still grinning from ear to ear. She clutched her phone tightly, her giddy mood refusing to fade.

She had to go tell her dad. He’d definitely be proud of her, she was sure of it. Y/n ran downstairs, her excitement bubbling over as she entered the living room.

Her dad was sitting on the couch, watching TV, his attention fully on the screen. She hesitated for a moment, feeling a sudden rush of nerves before shaking it off.

“Dad?” she called out, stepping closer.

His eyes didn’t leave the tv. “Mhmm.”

“I just got an email,” Y/n said, trying to keep her voice steady, though the excitement spilled through in her tone. “I’m getting an award for being one of the top students in biochem.”

Her dad’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Really? That’s incredible, Bub.”

Before she could say another word, he stood up, walking over to her. To her surprise, he wrapped her in a tight hug, patting her back firmly. “I’m so proud of you. That’s really good, Bub.”

Y/n felt her throat tighten, overwhelmed by the warmth of his words. He didn’t say things like this often, but when he did, it stayed with her. She hugged him back, savouring the rare moment.

“Thanks, Dad,” she murmured, her voice soft.

He pulled back, stroking her hair in that familiar, affectionate way. “I’ll take you out some time to celebrate.”

As he settled back onto the couch, Y/n sat down beside him, still basking in the moment.

“I’ll forward the email to you, with the details of the prizegiving and stuff,” Y/n said.

“Sweet,” He said, his attention back on the tv.

Y/n returned home after dinner with Yangyang, they’d laughed over pasta, drank glasses of fizzy, and toasted to her success. As she kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed, a thought struck her.

I still haven’t told Johnny!

She sat up quickly, clutching her phone. She hit his contact and waited for the call to connect.

“Hey, Y/n. What’s up?” Johnny’s familiar voice came through the phone.

“Okay, so…I have some news!” Y/n blurted, still unable to contain her excitement.

“Yeah?” His tone was light, curious.

“I got an award for biochem!” she said proudly, her heart racing as she waited for his reaction.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Johnny’s voice filled with excitement. “Are you serious? Y/n, that’s amazing! Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!”

Y/n felt her face heat up at his praise, a giddy blush creeping across her cheeks. “Thanks, Johnny. It feels kinda silly being this excited about it, but–”

“Hey, don’t even start. You should be excited! This is a big deal!” Johnny cut in, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. “You worked your ass off. Honestly, you’re incredible.”

Her heart pounded at his words, and she couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “Stop, you’re embarassing me.”

“You deserve all the praise,” he said with a chuckle. “Okay, so when are we going out to celebrate? My treat.”

Y/n winced a little, feeling bad. “Uh…so…Yangyang already took me out for dinner.”

“Damn,” Johnny muttered. “He beat me to it. What else can we do, then?”

Y/n thought for a moment before an idea popped into her head, her voice turning playful. “Well…we didn’t get dessert.”

Johnny let out a low laugh. “Dessert, huh? I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

Y/n giggled, feeling her heart flutter. “Okay. See you soon.”

As she hung up, she found herself grinning from ear to ear. Having a good meal with Yangyang, and now having desert with Johnny.

Could this night get any better?

Twenty minutes later, Y/n heard the familiar rumble of Johnny’s car pulling up outside. She grabbed her jacket, still buzzing with excitement, and hurried out the door. As she approached the car, Johnny rolled down the window and grinned at her.

“Hey, superstar,” he greeted, his voice teasing yet warm.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Don’t embarrass me, it’s just a uni award. And thanks for coming out this late.”

“Anything for you.” He winked as Y/n slid into the passenger seat and buckled in.

“Picked up a cake on the way. We can celebrate back at mine.” he said, reaching into the back seat and placing a box on her lap.

Y/n opened the box to reveal a beautifully decorated cake, and her heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “Johnny…you didn’t have to do this. Ice cream would have been fine.”

He shrugged, putting the car in drive. “Of course I did. I mean, how often do you get an award? Gotta do it right.”

Her cheeks flushed, the weight of his words sinking in. She wasn’t used to someone going out of their way for her like this, and Johnny made it feel so effortless. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said with a smirk, earning a playful shove from Y/n. “But seriously, you deserve it. Tonight’s about you.”

As they drove through the quiet streets, the excitement of the day still lingered in Y/n’s chest, but now it was mixed with a warmth only Johnny seemed to bring out in her. Celebrating at his place, just the two of them, sounded perfect.

Once they got to Johnny’s place, Y/n kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch. She watched as Johnny disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging around with an air of determined enthusiasm.

A few moments later, he returned, balancing a tray loaded with a couple of cans of fizzy, plates, utensils, and, of course, the cake, now topped with a single candle flickering softly. He set everything down on the coffee table and grinned at her.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, eyeing the candle. “Johnny, that isn’t necessary. It’s not my birthday.”

“Nonsense.” He gave her a playful look, lighting the candle with a lighter. “You’re celebrating something big. That’s worth a wish and a candle, don’t you think?”

She tried to hide her smile but failed miserably. With a small laugh, she leaned forward, clasped her hands together, and closed her eyes. “If my wish doesn’t come true, I blame you.”

Johnny chuckled. “Sounds fair.”

Y/n took a deep breath, made her wish, and blew out the candle. The tiny flame blew out, leaving only a trail of smoke floating into the air. Johnny clapped lightly, grinning like it was a real birthday celebration.

“Congratulations! What did you wish for?” he asked immediately.

You.

“I’m not telling! It won’t come true if I do,” she laughed, shaking her head as he grabbed the knife to cut the cake.

“Come on! You just said making a wish wasn’t necessary, now you won’t even tell me your wish,” Johnny said, slicing generous pieces of cake and placing them on plates.

“I ain’t taking no chances,” Y/n said as she accepted her slice.

Johnny grabbed his slice of cake and plopped down on the couch next to Y/n, sitting close enough that their shoulders brushed.

He handed her a fork with a little smirk. “Go on, you’ve earned it. First bite goes to the award-winner.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “It’s not that amazing, Johnny,” she mumbled, taking a bite nonetheless.

Johnny leaned back against the couch, watching her with that same teasing glint in his eyes. “Don’t downplay it. You clearly worked your ass off for this. You should be proud.”

“You know what, yeah, I should be!” she replied playfully, flashing him a grin. “I’m amazing!”

He chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “There’s my good girl.”

Her fork froze halfway to her mouth, her heart suddenly racing.

“Oh, so you do remember what I said back at the club,” she muttered.

Johnny leaned in a little, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Of course, I remember.” His tone softened, losing some of its teasing edge. “And I meant it.”

Y/n couldn’t look away from him. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, and her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was hearing.

Where was all of this coming from? There was no alcohol to blame this time, no hazy late-night atmosphere clouding their words.

“You have no idea what I would do for you, Y/n.” His voice was low as he carefully placed his slice of cake down on the coffee table.

Leaning back, he allowed his gaze to sweep over her, as if taking in every detail, memorizing her stunned expression in that moment.

“If you were mine, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give you,” he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “All you’d have to do is ask. You’re too precious to be treated like an afterthought.”

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. She was shocked, trapped in his steady gaze, the weight of his confession pressing down on her in the most unexpected way.

“Johnny–” she began, but he cut her off with a sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his head dropping briefly before he lifted it again, meeting her eyes with raw emotion.

“I know I shouldn’t be saying these things to you,” he murmured, his voice tinged with guilt. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way about you, but I can’t help it, Y/n. I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I see you…it’s like nothing else matters.”

The longing in his eyes was unmistakable, and it pulled at something deep inside her. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself.

“Johnny…” she whispered, unsure of what to say, yet feeling the weight of his vulnerability settle over her.

There was no teasing smirk on his face this time, no playful comment to ease the tension. This was real, raw, and it left her breathless.

She didn’t know what to say, but she knew exactly what she wanted. Her mind was racing, yet her heart seemed to know the answer before she did.

“Can you…tell me more?” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting that response. For a moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to gauge whether she truly meant it. When he saw the sincerity in her expression, something in his gaze softened, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.

Y/n carefully placed her own slice of cake down on the coffee table and, without thinking too much, scooted closer to him. The space between them was now nearly nonexistent, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“I want to hear it,” she said, her eyes locked on his as she placed her hand on top of his. “I want to know how you feel…because I don’t think you realise how much it means to me.”

Johnny exhaled slowly, his hand turning over to entwine his fingers with hers. His thumb gently traced the back of her hand, grounding himself in the moment.

“Y/n, you deserve so much more than you get, and I want to be the one to give you that,” he said quietly. “I want to give you everything your dad couldn’t.”

Her breath hitched at his words, a blush creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. And yet, here Johnny was, laying it all bare without hesitation.

The air between them grew heavier, charged with something neither of them could deny. Y/n felt her pulse quicken as Johnny’s gaze locked onto hers, deep and unwavering. Neither of them said a word, but the tension between them spoke volumes.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I was your little girl…what would you do to me right now?”

The question hung in the air, a quiet echo of the conversation they’d had back at the bar, only now, there was nothing playful about it. Her words were laced with vulnerability and something more daring.

Johnny’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something more serious, more intense. He inhaled slowly, as if steadying himself, and leaned in just a little closer, his voice low.

“Whatever you want me to,” he murmured, his tone smooth and steady, but with an edge of restraint.

Y/n’s breath hitched at his response, a shiver running down her spine. He was waiting for her next move, giving her control over whatever came next. Her fingers tightened slightly around his, and for a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

“Then…” she said, her voice soft and her eyes flicking to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Kiss me.”

Johnny didn’t hesitate. He jolted forward, closing the small gap between them, his free hand gently cupping her cheek. The moment their lips met, it was soft yet electrifying, the sweet taste of cake still lingering on their lips. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut as she melted into the kiss, her heart racing faster with every second.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate, it was slow and full of emotion as if Johnny was pouring everything he felt for her into that single moment. His thumb brushed her cheek before falling behind her neck, holding her.

Her lips parted slightly, her own breathing hitching as her body leaned instinctively closer. “Johnny…” she whispered, her voice barely audible against Johnny’s lips, but it was all the encouragement he needed.

The kiss became deeper, more desperate, as if a dam had broken between them. His hand on her neck pulled her closer as his other arm wrapped around her waist. Y/n let herself sink into him, her hands gripping his shoulders before sliding up to tangle in his hair.

He pulled back briefly, just enough to murmur against her lips. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” His voice was thick, his hand at her waist tightening slightly, his thumb brushing the curve of her hip.

Y/n’s heart raced, her cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. “Good,” she replied, her voice shaky but teasing, a boldness rising within her. “Because you do the same to me.”

Johnny groaned softly, a deep, frustrated sound that sent a thrill through her. He leaned forward, pressing her back against the couch as his lips found hers again.

This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. His hand slid under the hem of her shirt, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of her waist, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

Y/n gasped softly at the contact, her body arching into him instinctively. She could feel the tension between them building, unable to ignore it.

“Tell me to stop,” Johnny whispered against her lips, his voice raw and breathless.

His forehead rested against hers, his chest rising and falling with the same uneven rhythm as hers. “If this is too much, if I’m too much, just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

But Y/n shook her head, her hands clutching at his shirt, her eyes locking with his. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice firm and certain. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all Johnny needed. His lips crashed against hers again, growing more consuming. The intensity of the moment was magnetic, pulling them into their own world where nothing else existed, just the heat between them, their breaths, and the electric connection they shared.

Johnny’s lips left hers, trailing a path down the side of her face, slow and deliberate, as though savouring every inch of her. His mouth lingered at her jawline, where he pressed a series of soft, teasing kisses before suckling gently at her skin.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as a wave of warmth coursed through her. She tilted her head instinctively, granting him more access, her heart pounding in her chest. She let herself melt into his touch, her body surrendering entirely to him.

Johnny’s tongue slipped out, gliding along the curve of her jaw in a way that sent sparks shooting through her veins. He moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched. The gentle scrape of his teeth followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue made her pulse race even faster.

Her hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself against the dizzying sensations he was creating. She felt her body respond instinctively, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Every nerve seemed to come alive under his touch, every thought replaced by the overwhelming reality of him.

“Johnny…” she whispered, her voice trembling with the pleasure his lips promised.

Her mind struggled to grasp what was happening, but her heart didn’t care, it was doing backflips, completely lost in the moment.

Johnny pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her skin, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes were dark, filled with a desire he no longer tried to hide.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick, every word laced with raw honesty.

Her lips parted as if to respond, but the words never came. Instead, her hand lifted, fingers brushing against his cheek before sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Johnny didn’t hesitate, his lips finding hers again, capturing them in a kiss that was deeper. His hands slid to her waist, gripping her firmly, as though she were something precious in his grasp.

She melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss grew more urgent, their breaths mingling as they explored this newfound connection.

But then Johnny stilled, his lips hovering just above hers as he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. His breath came in shallow and his voice was quiet when he spoke.

“Y/n…” he began, his hands settling on her hips, steadying her. “You deserve more than this.”

She blinked up at him, dazed, her lips swollen and her heart racing. “What do you mean?”

He smiled softly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I mean you deserve better than a couch,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and care. “If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to show you how much you mean to me, it’s going to be right.”

Johnny broke their kiss with a sharp exhale, his chest heaving as he sat back on the couch, his hands still resting on her waist.

For a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes tracing every detail of her face as if committing her to memory. Then, with a sudden movement, he rose to his feet, towering over her.

Y/n blinked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as he extended a hand toward her. His fingers brushed hers before he clasped her hand firmly, tugging her up from the couch in one smooth motion.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice laced with a determination that sent shivers down her spine.

She barely had time to process before Johnny was leading her through the dimly lit space, his grip on her hand strong and steady. He pulled her through the house quickly, basically dragging her down the hall.

He pushed open the bedroom door without hesitation. Johnny turned to face her, still holding her hand as he pulled her closer. His free hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin as his gaze searched hers.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intent. “But I can’t keep holding back, not when I’ve wanted this–wanted you, for so long.”

Y/n’s lips parted, her heart pounding as she nodded, her fingers tightening around his. “I don’t want you to hold back,” she whispered, her voice trembling but sure.

Johnny smiled then, a mix of relief and longing, and he guided her inside, letting the door fall closed behind them.

The moment the door clicked shut, Johnny’s lips were on hers again, claiming her with a hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. His hands slid up to her shoulders, his touch firm yet careful as he guided her backward toward the bed. Y/n clung to his shirt, her fingers holding the fabric as if letting go would take her away from this moment.

With each slow step, the air between them grew heavier. When the back of her knees finally met the edge of the mattress, Johnny’s hands traced down her arms before gently pressing against her waist, easing her down onto the soft sheets.

Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, her heart somersaulting in her chest. The dim glow from the window cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the warmth in his half-lidded eyes. He loomed over her, his broad shoulders filling her vision, his arms on either side of her as he hovered just above.

Johnny dipped his head, his lips ghosting over her cheek as he whispered, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m gonna take real good care of you, Y/n.”

The warmth of his breath sent a delicious shiver through her, and as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, she knew she was his, and she had never felt safer handing herself over.

The kiss he pressed against her lips was filled with a hunger that neither of them could suppress any longer. Their hands roamed, fingers grasping and tugging at fabric, desperate to feel more skin, more heat, more of each other.

Johnny straightened as he reached behind his head, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The moment he tossed it aside, Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her gaze instinctively dropping to his muscular chest. The way the light from the window traced over his toned muscles made it impossible to look away, until Johnny’s eyes found hers again, dark with intent.

She pushed up onto her elbows, her fingers moving to the hem of her own shirt, but Johnny was quicker. His hands slipped beneath the fabric, brushing against her skin as he lifted it over her head and tossed it aside. Before she could take another breath, he was back, his lips claiming hers once more as she melted beneath him.

His touch was slow, his large hands gliding down her sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When his fingers reached the waistband of her pants, he paused, his grip tightening slightly as if asking for permission.

Y/n arched her hips in silent approval, and Johnny wasted no time, pulling the fabric down her legs with a tantalising slowness that sent a thrill through her.

Johnny pulled away again, and the loss of his lips left Y/n aching and breathless, her body instinctively leaning forward as if to chase him. But then his hand dropped to the button of his pants, and her breath hitched.

She didn’t look away. Instead, she slowly shuffled back toward the centre of the bed, settling against the pillows, waiting, watching. The anticipation in her gaze, the way her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, it made Johnny pause for a second, his lips curling into the faintest smirk.

Johnny’s gaze lingered on her as he slowly undid his belt. “You’re making it hard to focus, Y/n,” he murmured

Y/n’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes not leaving his. “I’m not doing anything.”

Johnny chuckled softly as he grabbed his pants. “You don’t have to.”

Johnny pushed his pants down, letting them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. His movements quick, trying to get back to her as quickly as possible. Y/n’s breath hitched as her eyes traced over the sharp lines of his body.

Before she could process anything else, Johnny was back on top of her, his hands slipping around her waist as he guided her back down against the mattress. She squeaked and grabbed his shoulders as he moved her.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her jaw as he settled above her. “I’ve got you.”

Johnny’s lips found hers again, his hands roamed over her body, fingers tracing every curve. His kiss was consuming, leaving her breathless, her hands gripping onto his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

A soft hum escaped her as he pressed a trail of kisses down her neck. But then she let out a breathless laugh, tilting her head to the side.

“Johnny,” she murmured against his lips, “we still have our underwear on. Not much we can do with that.”

Johnny pulled back slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, his eyes dark with amusement. “Oh,” he murmured, dragging his fingers along her waist, “there are plenty of things I can do with it still on.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “But since you wanna get to it…”

Johnny’s fingers traced the straps of her bra, his touch featherlight as he slipped them down her shoulders. His lips followed, pressing soft, lingering kisses against the newly exposed skin.

He reached behind her, unhooking the clasp. His gaze darkened as he took her in as he pulled the fabric away.

“Wow,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

His hands trailed lower, gliding over her hips before slipping beneath the thin fabric of her underwear. He took his time, savouring the moment as he dragged it down her thighs, letting it join the rest of their discarded clothing.

Johnny sat back for a moment, his eyes raking over her, drinking in every inch of her bare form. The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, anticipation churning in her stomach. His lips parted slightly, his breathing deep and measured as if he was trying to compose himself.

“God, Y/n…” he exhaled.

His own followed, discarded just as quickly, giving her no time to look herself as he was back, closer than before, his body flush against hers. His lips found hers again, hungrier than ever.

“I wanna taste you,” Johnny gasped against her lips.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering open in shock. “T-taste me?” she stammered.

But Johnny didn’t answer, his lips curled into a smirk before he began his descent, trailing heated kisses down her neck, her collarbone, over the swell of her chest, and lower still.

When he reached her hips, he grasped them firmly, pressing one last kiss to her navel before pushing her legs apart. His hands held her thighs steady, his grip firm as he settled between them.

A soft whimper escaped her lips as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He was taking his time, savouring the moment, watching her every reaction.

Her heart pounded, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside her as he inched closer to her core. She barely had time to process the intensity in his gaze before he finally closed the distance, his lips latching onto her sensitive clit.

A sharp gasp tore from her throat, her back arching as pleasure flooded her senses. Johnny groaned against her, his grip tightening as he pushed her thighs further apart, making room for himself.

Johnny’s tongue performed magic, delving into her opening before gliding back up to flick against her bundle of nerves. The way he moved had Y/n unravelling beneath him, her body trembling with every stroke of his tongue.

The pleasure was overwhelming, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. A breathy moan escaped her lips as her fingers instinctively tangled into his dark hair, gripping tightly in a desperate attempt to ground herself.

Her thighs twitched, instinctively trying to shut, but Johnny wasn’t having it. His strong hands tightened around her thighs, keeping her wide open for him. He let out a low hum of approval, the vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure through her.

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, the heat of his breath making her shiver. “I want to taste every bit of you.”

Y/n whimpered, her chest rising and falling rapidly as Johnny continued, his tongue slipping inside her again before coming back to swirl around her sensitive bud. Her fingers clenched in his hair, tugging slightly, but Johnny only groaned in response, watching the way she was falling apart under his touch.

“Johnny,” she moaned, her voice trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as she felt her insides tighten as her orgasm neared.

Johnny must have noticed too, with the way her thighs tensed and the way her body trembled beneath him, because just when she was on the edge, he pressed one last, lingering kiss against her mound before pulling back completely, leaving her aching and empty.

A shocked whimper slipped out Y/n’s lips, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at him in utter disbelief. Her legs were still open, her body overwhelming with unfulfilled pleasure, and yet Johnny was pulling away, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“What the fuck?” she breathed, her voice filled with frustration.

Johnny merely chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he licked the corner of his mouth with his tongue. Without another word, he shifted, moving back up her body until they were face to face, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

His lips hovered just above hers, teasing. “Relax, little girl,” he murmured, his breath warm against her lips. “I just wanna feel you fall apart around me the right way.”

Johnny didn’t give her a chance to protest, not that she could have, not when his lips crashed back against hers, stealing whatever breath she had left.

The kiss was deep and slow, and it wasn’t long before she tasted herself on his tongue. The realization sent a new wave of heat rushing through her, her body responding instantly to the way he moved against her.

His hands found her thighs, fingers digging in as he gripped them firmly, guiding them up and around his hips. The shift brought them even closer, her body molding perfectly beneath his.

His fingers traced slow, soothing circles against her skin, as if grounding her in the moment. “You ready?” His voice was husky, thick with restraint, but his eyes were burning with need, they left no doubt about how much he wanted this. Wanted her.

Y/n swallowed hard, nodding as her fingers curled around his biceps. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I’m ready, Johnny.”

With one last lingering kiss, he adjusted his hold on her legs, pulling her in closer. Reaching between the two, Johnny lined himself up, right at her entrance. And then, finally, he began to push forward, inch by inch, stretching and filling her in a way that had her gasping his name all over again.

Johnny groaned as he eased into her, his grip on her thighs tightening as he fought to keep himself steady. Y/n's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his arms, anchoring herself as he filled her completely.

He stilled for a moment, pressing his forehead to hers, giving her time to adjust. His hands soothed over her skin, trailing from her thighs to her waist, grounding her.

"You okay?" His voice was strained, his self-control hanging by a thread.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding. “Mhmm,” she hummed, rolling her hips just slightly, letting him know she wanted more.

That was all it took for Johnny’s restraint to snap. A low curse left his lips as he pulled back, then pushed in again, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had Y/n gasping, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through her.

“Johnny..” Her voice broke, pleasure unraveling her completely.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips before capturing them in a kiss.

One of his hands slipped between them, his fingers finding her clit and sent her spiraling, drawing even more pleasure from her until she was arching beneath him, lost in sensation.

Johnny’s voice was a low murmur against her lips. “You like that, little girl?”

Y/n��s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with every heated second between them. Johnny’s lips traveled to her jaw, pressing rough kisses against her skin. His teeth grazed lightly before he nibbled, making her exhale a soft, trembling sigh.

“You sound so sweet when you breathe like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Y/n gripped onto him, her body melting into his touch. “Johnny…” she whispered, the way she said his name making his grip tighten.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, his lips brushing just below her ear.

Y/n’s lips parted, but all she could manage was a breathless, desperate, “More.”

Johnny’s eyes darkened, his grip on her thighs tightening as a slow smirk tugged at his lips. “More?” he echoed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “I can give you more, baby.”

Without another word, he adjusted his hold, lifting her legs and hooking them over his shoulders. The new angle had her gasping, her fingers gripping onto his arms as he pressed into her deeper, forcing her body to submit entirely to him.

“That’s it,” Johnny murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Y/n’s back arched, her body surrendering completely as his pace grew more rough. He held her there, locked in place, making sure she felt every inch of him, every movement that sent her spiraling further into submission.

His name fell from her lips in broken, breathless whimpers, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets beneath her. The intensity was overwhelming, his pace slow but deep, each movement sending heat curling deep in her core.

Johnny watched her, eyes dark and filled with something primal. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands gripping her thighs as he pushed deeper, the new angle making her toes curl. “You feel that? How good you take me?”

All Y/n could do was nod, her voice failing her, reduced to soft moans and gasps as pleasure crashed over her in waves. Johnny leaned forward, folding her even further beneath him, his lips ghosting over hers as his breath mixed with hers.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint. “Give it to me.”

Her body trembled, the pressure in her core tightening, building to something uncontrollable. And when Johnny rolled his hips just right, she shattered, her cry muffled against his lips as her orgasm overtook her.

Johnny groaned, feeling her pulse around him, his grip on her tightening as he chased his own release. A few more deep thrusts, and he was right there with her, a low moan spilling from his lips as he buried himself deep, his body trembling against hers as he filled her with his hot cum.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their ragged breaths the only sound in the quiet room. Johnny finally exhaled, pressing slow, lazy kisses to her collarbone as he dropped her legs back down, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her skin.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with tenderness.

Y/n let out a small, breathy laugh, her arms wrapping around his neck as she nuzzled into him. “Better than okay.”

Johnny smirked against her skin, but this time, there was no teasing edge, just warmth. He pulled her closer, their bodies still tangled together as their breathing slowly evened out.

“You did so well,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Not just now, but with the award. I’m proud of you, Y/n.”

Y/n let out a sleepy hum, her fingers tracing lazy patterns against his back. “Mmm…Thank you, Johnny.” Her voice was drowsy, content.

He smiled, smoothing a hand over her hair. “You deserve it, you know? You work hard. And I love seeing you shine.”

A warmth spread through her chest at his words, and she tightened her hold around him. “Means a lot coming from you.”

Johnny chuckled, nudging her nose with his before settling deeper into the mattress. “Get some rest, baby,” he whispered, his voice softer now. “You earned it.”

With one last lingering kiss, they drifted off, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the night settling into a peaceful stillness.

She didn’t know when her luck got so good, but she wasn’t about to complain.

But of course, Y/n’s luck never lasted long. It never did.

The next morning, she woke to an empty bed, the warmth from the night before already faded. But that didn’t bother her, not after everything that had happened.

Sitting up, she stretched, the golden morning light spilling through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. They’d been too caught up in each other to even think about drawing the curtains. A small smile tugged at her lips at the memory.

Her gaze drifted across the room, searching for any sign of Johnny, but all that remained was the faint scent of him lingering in the sheets. With a quiet sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the scattered clothes on the floor, slipping them back on one by one.

As Y/n slipped her shirt over her head, she stepped out of the bedroom, her bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. The moment she entered the living room, she spotted Johnny pacing back and forth, his jaw clenched, one hand running through his hair.

She paused in the doorway, brows furrowing. “Johnny?” Her voice was soft, cautious. “You good?”

He stopped but didn’t turn right away. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before he finally faced her.

That’s when she saw it, something was wrong. It was written all over his face. The tension in his features, the way his fingers flexed at his sides, like he was holding something back.

Y/n took a slow step forward. “Johnny…what’s going on?”

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand down his face before finally meeting her eyes. His expression was pained, conflicted.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges. “None of that should have happened.”

Her stomach twisted. “W-what?”

She took a shaky step closer, searching his face for something, anything, that made sense of what he was saying. “Johnny, what are you talking about?”

He shook his head, exhaling sharply. “You’re too young. I should’ve never come onto you like that.”

Her heart clenched. “But I wanted it.”

“That’s not the point.” His tone was firm, almost bitter. “I should have never wanted it. I should have known better.”

Y/n opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The warmth from last night, the way he touched her like she meant something, the way he whispered her name, it was all unraveling before her eyes.

Johnny took a step back, putting distance between them. “It was wrong, Y/n. And I can’t take that back.”

Y/n took a step forward, her brows knitting together in frustration. “Johnny, I wanted it to happen,” she insisted, her voice firm but laced with emotion. “I like you. And I can legally be with you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Johnny let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about what’s legal, Y/n. It’s about what’s right.”

Her chest tightened. “It doesn’t matter,” she pressed, reaching for him, but he took another step back.

“It should..” His voice dropped lower, heavy with something deeper, something that made her stomach sink.

He looked at her then, really looked at her. “Because I can’t have that weighing on my conscience. I can’t be the guy who takes advantage of you.”

Her breath caught. “You didn’t–”

“But what if I did?” he cut in, his gaze sharp. “What if that’s exactly what happened?” He let out a bitter laugh, his jaw tightening. “Yangyang warned you this would happen. Looks like I’m proving him right. And now, look at us.”

Y/n felt like the floor had been pulled out from under her. “Yangyang?” Her heart pounded, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “So what?” she snapped. “You’re just gonna listen to that guy? Act like last night meant nothing?”

Johnny exhaled sharply, his expression torn. “I’m saying it shouldn’t have happened,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Because no matter how much I want you, Y/n…it’s wrong.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing into a glare. “What about what I want?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Does that not matter to you at all?”

Johnny let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/n, you don’t even know what you want,” he said, exasperated. “You’re too young.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you fucking serious?” she scoffed, taking a step back like he’d just slapped her. “You think I don’t know what I want just because I’m younger than you?”

Johnny clenched his fists at his sides, avoiding her sharp gaze. “I think you’re still figuring things out,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.

Y/n let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Wow,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s actually insane. You didn’t seem to have a problem with my age last night.”

Johnny flinched, his face tightening. “That’s exactly the problem, Y/n.”

“No,” she snapped, stepping forward. “The problem is that you’re treating me like some clueless little kid who doesn’t know her own feelings. I know what I want, Johnny. I wanted you.”

He finally met her gaze, something torn and conflicted flickering in his eyes. “And that’s exactly why this is wrong,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pained. “Because I should’ve never let it get to this point.”

Y/n’s heart sank, a heavy weight settling in her chest as his words hit her like a cold bucket of water being poured over her. She felt defeated, helpless, as though all of her emotions and desires from the night before had been reduced to nothing but foolishness.

Her stomach twisted in humiliation. Did she really look so helpless to him? Maybe she had made herself look desperate, foolish in her own eyes.

She took a shaky breath, trying to push the lump in her throat away. "I think I should go," she murmured, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Johnny looked at her with a hint of guilt, his shoulders slumping. "I’ll drive you to Yangyang’s," he said softly, as though offering some sort of comfort, but all it did was make Y/n’s blood boil.

Her eyes shot up to meet his, and she straightened, her posture suddenly brimming with defiance. "Fuck you," she spat, her voice sharp and cutting. "I can get there myself."

Johnny flinched, clearly taken aback by her reaction, but Y/n couldn’t bring herself to care. She grabbed her bag and made her way toward the door, her heart heavy but her mind set. As much as it hurt, she needed to leave, to get out of that space that now felt suffocating.

Without looking back, she stepped out into the hall, slamming the door behind her. Y/n's legs felt heavy with each step as she walked down the hallway, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest.

She couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and relentless as they blurred her vision. She wiped them away angrily, trying to steady herself, but the humiliation of it all, of being rejected, of feeling like she was nothing more than a mistake, was too much.

She pulled her phone from her bag, her hands trembling as she unlocked it. Her fingers hovered for a moment over the screen before she quickly dialed Yangyang’s number. The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Y/n stepped inside, leaning against the wall as she waited for the call to connect.

The ringing seemed to stretch out, each second longer than the last. Y/n bit her lip, trying to choke back the sob that threatened to escape. The silence was only broken when Yangyang's voice finally came through.

“Y/n? What’s up?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge of concern beneath it.

Y/n took a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yangyang," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I need you. Please."

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Yangyang asked, his voice quiet but insistent, for what must have been the third time.

Y/n stared out of the car window, the tears still falling, too exhausted to wipe them away anymore. She could feel the weight of everything pressing down on her, suffocating, and she just wanted to escape it for a little while.

Yangyang glanced at her briefly before focusing back on the road. "Do I need to turn this car around and go beat up Johnny?"

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, though it barely sounded like one. "No, he'd waste you," she replied, her voice hoarse. "I'll tell you when we get to yours."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, but the tears wouldn’t stop. The silence in the car felt thick, and Y/n found herself staring out at the passing scenery, feeling more lost than she had in a long time.

The car stopped out fron Yangyang’s and the moment they stepped inside, Y/n made a beeline for his bedroom, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. As soon as she reached his bed, she collapsed onto it face-first, letting out a muffled groan against the sheets.

Yangyang shut the door behind them, crossing his arms as he leaned against it. "Alright, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Y/n sighed, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "You're just gonna call me an idiot."

Yangyang scoffed. "Yeah, probably. But what’s new?"

She let out a dry laugh, but it faded quickly. Swallowing hard, she finally admitted, "I slept with Johnny."

Yangyang’s eyebrows shot up, his expression unreadable. "Shocker…and?"

"And then this morning, he regretted it." The words tasted bitter on her tongue.

Saying it out loud made it feel even worse, like it was something that was officially real, something she couldn’t take back.

Yangyang let out a slow exhale, rubbing his face. "Shit."

Yangyang sat down next to Y/n on the bed, the mattress dipping beside her. She turned her head to look at him, only to find the look of pity in his eyes. It made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be pitied.

“You can just go ahead and tell me how fucking stupid I am,” Y/n muttered, forcing a weak smile.

Yangyang hesitated for a moment before sighing. “...I did try to warn you.” His voice was quiet, careful, but it still stung.

Y/n let out a humourless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know…I should’ve listened.” Her voice wavered, but she kept going. “I just thought I wouldn’t even have a chance with him, so there was nothing to avoid in the first place. I didn’t think this would actually happen.”

Yangyang stayed quiet for a moment, then asked, “Tell me what happened.”

Y/n exhaled, staring up at the wall. “I went over to his place after dinner with you. It was supposed to be a celebration…he got me a cake and everything.” Her voice softened at the memory before she scoffed at herself. “We made out…had sex…slept…and then morning came, and he told me it should’ve never happened.”

Yangyang squinted his eyes, questioning the situation. “So, what? He just acted like the whole thing was a mistake?”

Y/n swallowed hard. “Pretty much.”

“What an asswipe,” Yangyang muttered, shaking his head. “You want me to talk to him?”

Y/n let out a tired laugh, though it lacked any real amusement. “Nah, not worth it…I just wanna forget any of this ever happened.”

Yangyang narrowed his eyes. “You’re not still gonna be friends with him, right?”

“Fuck no,” Y/n scoffed, burrowing her face deeper into the pillow. “I can’t even face him again. He probably doesn’t even wanna be friends with me either. I mean, I’m clearly too young for even that.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but underneath it, there was bitterness.

Yangyang blinked, confused. “...Huh?”

Y/n sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time. “He said I’m too young to be with him. And like…maybe he’s right, but come on! He already fucked me, so what’s the issue now?” She let out a humourless scoff. “Oh, and he said you were right.”

Yangyang grinned, leaning back on his hands. “I’m always right.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small, dry laugh that escaped her lips. “Yeah, yeah. But basically, he made it clear, I’m too young to even think about him like that. So that’s the end of that, I guess.”

Yangyang clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Damn. He really fumbled.”

“Guess so,” Y/n muttered, but the ache in her chest told her it wasn’t that simple.

It had been a week since everything went down, yet the ache in Y/n’s chest refused to fade. She knew there was nothing she could do to change what had happened, that it was out of her hands, but that didn’t stop her from replaying it over and over in her mind.

What could she have said differently? What could she have done to make him stay?

But no matter how much she thought about it, the answer was always the same. It didn’t matter. Johnny had made his choice. And now, she had to let go.

Tonight was supposed to be a big night. Prizegiving. The moment all her hard work would finally be recognized. Yangyang was coming to pick her up soon, and her dad was supposed to come straight from work. It should have been exciting. It should have been a night worth celebrating.

Yet here she was, sitting on the edge of her bed in her formal dress, twiddling her fingers in her lap, staring blankly at the floor. She should be happy. She should feel proud. But all she felt was hollow.

Johnny had tainted this moment for her. Because no matter how much she tried to push it aside, no matter how much she told herself it didn’t matter, the truth was, she wanted him there.

Y/n’s phone buzzed beside her, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. It was Yangyang.

Outside boi!

Rolling her eyes, she let out a small sigh before grabbing her bag. She stood, smoothing out her dress, and took one last look in the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, polished, put together, but she still felt out of it.

Shaking off the feeling, she grabbed her keys and made her way downstairs. The house was quiet, almost eerily so, but she didn’t linger. She locked up behind her, stuffing the keys into her bag before heading toward the car parked at the curb.

Yangyang was leaning against the hood as he scrolled through his phone. When he saw her, he let out a low whistle.

“Look at you,” he grinned. “Flashy clothes and all.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, slipping into the passenger seat. “It’s a formal event, you egg.”

Laughing, Yangyang slid into the driver’s seat, turning the key before pulling away from the curb. “Alright, alright. But seriously, you look good.”

Y/n stared out the window, resting her chin against her hand. “Thanks,” she muttered. “Wish I felt like it.”

Yangyang sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as they hit a red light. He glanced over at Y/n, who was still staring out the window, lost in her own head.

“Look, I know you’re still thinking about him,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “And I get it. But you’re not gonna let some dumbass ruin your night, right?”

Y/n stayed quiet, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress.

Yangyang sighed again, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/n. You worked your ass off for this. You deserve to be proud of yourself. You deserve to have a good time tonight. And most of all, you deserve better than some guy who made you feel like shit for wanting him.”

Y/n blinked, finally looking over at him. “I know…” she murmured. “I just…I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

Yangyang gave her a small smile. “Then fake it. Cause I ain’t about to take pictures of you on stage mopping about. You better look about at this later thinking you’re the shit.”

A tiny smile tugged at Y/n’s lips. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Yangyang admitted with a shrug. “But you’re Y/n. You’ll be just fine.”

The light turned green, and he pressed on the gas. “Now, let’s go get you that damn award.”

When they arrived at the venue, the place was already filled with people. The hall was dimly lit, chandeliers casting a soft glow over the round tables draped in black cloths. Students, parents, and faculty were scattered around, chatting, laughing, and enjoying their meals. A stage stood at the front of the room, the podium set up with a microphone, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Y/n and Yangyang made their way through the crowd, finally spotting an empty table off to the side, away from the main crowd. It was quiet, which was perfect, she wasn’t really in the mood to make small talk with anyone else.

As soon as they sat down, Yangyang’s eyes immediately landed on the buffet table across the room. “Yo, they got some good shit over there,” he said, already standing back up. “I’m getting some food.”

Y/n huffed a small laugh. “Figures.”

“You want me to grab you anything?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I’ll just wait here.”

Yangyang nodded before making his way toward the buffet, leaving her alone at the table.

Y/n exhaled and leaned back in her chair, letting her gaze wander around the room. It was a nice event, and she wished she could fully enjoy it.

At least Yangyang was here. And her dad would be showing up soon. That was something to be happy about, right?

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to push away the lingering thoughts of the past week. This was supposed to be her night, she had worked hard for this moment.

Maybe, just maybe, she could let herself enjoy it.

Yangyang returned to the table with a full plate stacked high with food and a drink in hand.

He plopped down into his seat and, without a word, set a plate down between the two of them. “Got some for both of us.”

“You’re a blessing,” Y/n said, already picking up a fork.

“I know,” Yangyang smirked before taking a sip of his drink.

Y/n glanced at the cup in his hand. “What are you drinking?”

“Beer.”

Her head snapped toward him. “What the fuck? Where did you get beer here?”

Yangyang shrugged casually, stuffing a bite of food into his mouth.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That is your only drink tonight. You still have to drive me back, dumbass.”

Yangyang groaned but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He took another sip before setting the cup down. “Just let me enjoy this one, alright?”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Fine. But I swear, if I catch you sneaking another, I’m taking your keys.”

Yangyang snorted. “Noted.” Then he dug into his food like he hadn’t eaten in days, and Y/n shook her head, finally feeling a little lighter than she had all night.

Y/n picked at the food on the plate, taking small bites as the ceremony began. The event started with introductions, a slideshow about the course, and acknowledgments of the faculty. The speaker’s voice droned on in the background, but Y/n’s mind was elsewhere.

She glanced around the room, scanning the faces, searching for her dad. Still no sign of him.

With a quiet sigh, she pulled out her phone under the table and flicked him a quick text.

Hurry up, it’s started.

She tapped her fingers anxiously against her lap, waiting for a response, but nothing came. Putting her phone back down on the table, she tried to focus on the ceremony, but the empty seat meant for her dad weighed on her more than she wanted to admit.

About fifteen minutes later, Y/n’s phone vibrated. The screen lit up with her dad’s name, and a pang of hope shot through her, maybe he was outside, letting her know he had arrived.

She leaned over to Yangyang. “I’m just gonna take this.”

He nodded, mouth full, and she slipped her phone into her palm as she made her way out of the hall. The murmurs of the ceremony faded as she pushed through the doors, stepping into the quieter hallway before answering.

“Hey, Dad–”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to make it, bubs.”

The words hit her like a punch to the throat.

She blinked, staring at the ground, her chest tightening as disappointment crushed her. She had told herself she wouldn’t expect much, but a part of her still held on, still thought, just this once, he’d show up.

He was still talking, saying something about work, how he’d make it up to her, how proud he was. But Y/n barely heard any of it. His voice was a distant hum, drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

Her fingers curled around the phone. She wanted to say something, call him out, tell him how much this meant to her, how he always did this, but what was the point?

Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced out, “Yeah…okay, that’s fine.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t fine at all.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Sorry, bubba,” her dad sighed. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” she muttered before hanging up.

She stood there for a second, staring at her screen, the weight of it settling in. Then, with a deep breath, she shoved her phone into her pocket and forced herself back inside.

Y/n felt hollow as she walked back into the hall, her legs heavy like they were being weighed down with bricks. The voice from the speakers droned around her, blending into a dull hum as she made her way back to the table.

She sat down next to Yangyang, eyes fixed on the table, barely able to breathe past the lump in her throat.

Yangyang looked over, instantly noticing something was off. “What’s up?”

She blinked rapidly, trying to push down the tears welling up, but they betrayed her, slipping free and pooling in her lashes.

Yangyang frowned, leaning in closer. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Y/n exhaled shakily, voice barely above a whisper. “Dad’s not coming…”

Yangyang’s face darkened. He sat back with a scoff, shaking his head. “Fucking typical.”

Before she could say anything, he pulled her into him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. That was all it took for her to break. She buried her face into his shoulder, the tears finally falling as she cried quietly, gripping onto his sleeve like it was the only thing holding her together.

Yangyang didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need to. He just held her, rubbing her back as the ceremony carried on around them like nothing had happened.

Yangyang glanced up at the presenter, then down at Y/n, his grip on her shoulder giving a small squeeze. “Hey,” he murmured, “award giving’s about to start. You should go clean up quickly.”

Y/n sniffled and nodded, slowly pulling away from him. She stood up, smoothing out her dress before making her way to the bathroom.

Inside, she leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were red-rimmed and cheeks blotchy from crying. With a deep breath, she grabbed some paper towels and dabbed at her face, doing her best to erase the image of disappointment.

She fanned her face with her hands, willing the puffiness to go down, but there was only so much she could do. The mirror didn’t lie, she looked tired, drained, but at least she wasn’t outright sobbing anymore.

“This is as good as it’s gonna get,” she muttered to herself, straightening up.

Taking one last steadying breath, she turned on her heel and stepped out of the bathroom, heading back into the hall.

Just as Y/n stepped out of the bathroom, she heard her name being called, echoing through the hall, and a curse slipped past her lips. She straightened herself up quickly, wiping the last of the moisture from her eyes and forcing a smile, even though her heart still felt heavy.

Making her way toward the stage, she kept her posture perfect, doing her best to appear as composed as possible. Every step felt heavier, but she was determined to keep it together.

She shook hands with the people on stage, each interaction feeling more like a blur than a moment, and received her award, a small trophy and framed certificate.

She saw Yangyang, his face was practically glowing with pride, his phone held high as he recorded the moment. She couldn’t help but smile at him, the smallest bit of warmth returning to her chest, just enough to push away the knot of tension.

Then came the moment of standing there, in front of the audience, while they listed off her achievements and took pictures. She stood tall, trying not to fidget even though her stomach twisted. Her eyes scanned the room as the flashes of cameras went off. And then, she saw him.

Johnny.

For a second, it felt like the air in the room went still, the chatter around her fading into the background. He had clearly just walked in standing at the back of the tables, his gaze locked on her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively glanced away, her fingers tightening around the edges of the award in her hands.

Even after she looked away, Y/n couldn’t shake the disbelief settling in her chest. What the fuck was he doing here? She had told herself she wouldn’t let him get to her, but just the sight of him, standing there in the crowd, sent a surge of emotions she wasn’t prepared for.

She hesitated, but her eyes found him again. Johnny was still there, standing tall, a smile on his face, not smug, but genuine, proud even. He wore a suit that helped him to blend into the crowd, but Y/n couldn’t look away, and the moment he caught her gaze, her heart stuttered.

The presenter stopped talking, and that’s when the applause started. Y/n watched as Johnny slowly took his hands out of his pockets, joining the applause for her. She forced herself to look away, not wanting to linger on him any longer than necessary.

She made her way back to the audience, her heart hammering in her chest. As soon as she reached Yangyang, she was greeted by his warm eyes.

Yangyang pulled Y/n into a tight hug as soon as she sat down, squeezing her in celebration. "Well done, you did it!" he said, his voice full of pride.

But Y/n didn’t respond. She was still frozen, her eyes locked on the back of the room, her mind racing.

Yangyang pulled back slightly, brows furrowing as he looked at her. "Hey, what’s up?" he asked, his voice softer now, noticing her tension.

Y/n didn’t answer him. Her gaze was fixed somewhere behind him, and Yangyang’s confusion deepened. He turned around, following her line of sight, and that’s when he saw Johnny walking toward them, making his way through the crowd.

Yangyang’s expression shifted instantly, a sharp defensive edge taking over. Without thinking, he stood in front of Y/n, blocking her from Johnny’s view. He pushed his shoulders back, trying to appear bigger, though it did little, as he glared at Johnny.

Johnny stopped in his tracks, eyes flicking between Yangyang and Y/n. It was clear he was expecting this kind of attitude, but he was ready. The tension between them hung thick in the air.

"You got some nerve showing up here," Yangyang said, his voice low, barely containing his anger as he kept his stance between Johnny and Y/n.

Johnny met his gaze, unflinching, and gave a slow, resigned nod. "I know," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of something more than just an apology. "I just...I need to talk to her."

Yangyang's expression remained hard, crossing his arms. "What for?" he demanded, clearly not trusting Johnny's intentions.

Johnny’s eyes flickered to Y/n for a brief moment, his plea more genuine than either of them could have expected. "Please," he said, voice barely above a whisper, though it was laced with sincerity.

Yangyang hesitated, then slowly turned his head to look at Y/n. His eyes searched hers for confirmation, his protectiveness still strong but giving her the space to decide.

Y/n met Johnny’s gaze for a moment before looking back at Yangyang, still shaken but steadying herself. She gave a soft nod, standing up from the table and smoothing her dress. "We can talk outside," she said, her voice more composed than she felt.

Yangyang stepped aside, giving her the space she needed. "I'll be right here," he said before watching as Y/n walked toward Johnny.

Y/n made her way to the end of the hall, her eyes fixed on the floor as her mind raced, trying to process everything. She could feel Johnny’s footsteps behind her, each step a reminder of the presence she hadn’t expected to face tonight. She could feel him drawing closer, his energy almost suffocating in its intensity.

They reached the door, and before Y/n could open it, Johnny held it open for her. She walked through it without a word, the cold air of the hallway brushing against her skin. Her heart was racing, but she didn’t stop until she reached the middle of the corridor. The noise of the event seemed to fade away as she turned to face him.

She stood still for a moment, her breath shaky as she looked back at him. He was standing there, just a few feet away, his expression unreadable. Y/n didn’t know what to say. How could she?

"Why are you here, Johnny?" The words felt heavy, yet so light at the same time, escaping her lips before she could stop them.

“I told you I would come,” Johnny said, his voice steady but tinged with regret.

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “And you think that was a good idea, after everything that happened the other day?”

Johnny exhaled sharply, frustration and guilt flickering across his features. He ran a hand through his hair, looking down for a moment, clearly upset with himself. “I...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression a mix of hurt and exhaustion. She crossed her arms, her stance defensive. “But you did,” she said quietly, her voice almost too calm for the storm brewing beneath it. “You said it, and now here we are. You can’t just take it back, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyes softened, a mix of regret and sincerity overtaking his usual confident demeanor. “I never should’ve said any of that, Y/n,” he began, his voice quiet but earnest. “I regret every word of it. I don’t want you to think I said it because I didn’t care or because I didn’t feel anything. The truth is, I felt more for you than I ever wanted to admit. And I–”

Y/n cut him off. “And what does this apology actually change, huh? You still regretted it.” She paused, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at him. “You still regret everything.”

Johnny winced at the words, but never backed down. “I never regretted it, Y/n.” He stepped a little closer, his gaze unwavering. “What I regretted…what I was afraid of, was what it would mean for me, for you. I didn’t want you or anyone to think I was some weirdo because of how much younger you were. I know how people would look at me, and I couldn’t deal with that. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, or that you didn’t deserve better.”

He looked away for a second, as if the weight of his own words had become too much to bear. "But that's the thing, Y/n. I shouldn’t have let that get in the way. You were never a mistake to me."

Y/n’s eyes narrowed as she processed his words, her emotions still raw, but somewhere beneath all of that hurt, a spark of curiosity flickered. She crossed her arms, looking at him like she was still trying to figure out if this was real or just another excuse.

“So, what do you want, Johnny?” she asked, her voice steady, though there was a hint of vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide.

Johnny’s gaze softened, the usual guarded expression he wore fading into something more honest. “I want to be with you,” he said without hesitation, his voice low but firm.

“I’m not saying it’s perfect or easy, but I don’t want to let this go, not when it means something to me. And I don’t care about the age, or what anyone thinks anymore.” He took a step closer, his words filled with a raw honesty that Y/n couldn’t ignore. “What I care about is you. I want to make this right.”

Y/n stood there for a moment, her mind racing, her heart still bruised but not as hard as before. She let out a soft laugh, the kind that was almost disbelieving but somehow light-hearted. “All’s forgiven, huh?” she said, her tone teasing.

Johnny smiled, the weight of the past few days finally lifting off his shoulders. “If you’ll let me,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, full of sincerity. “I’ll make it right. I swear I will.”

Y/n looked at him for a long moment, trying to read his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But there was nothing there, just the same guy she’d met at the bar.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I guess I could give you another chance...but you’d better not mess it up again, Johnny.”

Johnny grinned, a genuine smile that seemed to light up his whole face. “I won’t, I’ll make sure of it.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart still a little heavy, but the tension between them had eased. She stepped up to Johnny, her arms wrapping around him before he even had the chance to react. Johnny’s arms came around her instinctively, pulling her close as if he didn’t want to let go.

“Atleast you actually showed up,” Y/n said, her voice muffled slightly as her face was pressed into his chest. “Fucking dad didn’t.”

Johnny pulled back just enough to look down at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. “You fucking kidding me?” he asked, a slight laugh escaping him.

Y/n shook her head, chuckling. “Nope.”

She felt Johnny’s arms tighten around her again. She would’ve probably felt like shit thinking about her dad and how he had let her down tonight, but in that moment, with Johnny holding her, everything else just faded away. She felt…happy.

“There’s no chance I wouldn’t have come,” Johnny said softly, his voice almost a whisper as reached under her chin to tilt her head up. “I know how much it mattered to you”

Y/n looked up at Johnny, her heart racing as his fingers gently brushed her chin, lifting her face to meet his. His words hung in the air between them, soft and sincere.

“You always do,” she whispered back, her breath catching in her throat.

The space between them closed, and in an instant, Johnny’s lips were on hers. It wasn’t rushed or forced, but soft, like he was savoring the moment. Y/n’s mind finally quiets, letting the warmth of the kiss wash over her.

It was like everything outside of that moment faded away, leaving just the two of them, connected in a way that felt real, felt right. When they finally pulled away, Y/n’s eyes stayed closed for a moment, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

Y/n pulled back slightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at Johnny. “I’ve already got my award,” she said, her voice light. “We can totally just leave now, right?”

Johnny grinned, his eyes lighting up with relief. “Sounds good to me,” he agreed quickly.

Y/n started to turn back toward the hall, ready to grab Yangyang and get out of there, but Johnny gently caught her arm, halting her. He stepped closer, his expression softening.

“Before you go,” he said quietly, his hand reaching for her face once more, “can I’ve a kiss?”

Y/n met his gaze, her heart fluttering, and she nodded with a soft laugh. Without another word, Johnny leaned down, capturing her lips with his once more. Neither of them could hold back from smiling in the kiss, the happiness and relief that had been building between them for so long finally spilling over.

When they finally pulled away, Y/n was smiling, her hand lingering on his chest. “Happy now?”

“Very.” he said softly, her tone teasing like usual.

She chuckled, shaking her head as she gave him one last look before turning to head back toward the hall to grab Yangyang.

Y/n couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this good. With Johnny, she found more than just someone who showed up when she needed him. He was kind, supportive, and cared in a way that felt rare to her.

As she made their way back into the hall, she realized that despite everything, despite her father’s absence, the hurt from before, she had Johnny who made her feel seen, heard, and truly valued. With Johnny by her side, the weight of the world felt just a little bit easier to carry, and for the first time in a long while, Y/n let herself believe that things might just be okay.

A/N: Just thought I should say that I do NOT condone drinking and driving! Anyways! Thank you so much for reading this fic, the next one of the series I'll be writing is Yuta~ so slay! hope you look forward to that Thank you again for reading 💚

109 notes · View notes