#what do you guys do with all that confidence??

[sleepyhoon]

i see you (always, forever). - l.hs

synopsis. following your ex boyfriend’s sudden disappearance, lee heeseung seemingly enters your life at the perfect time.

pairing. stalker bf!heeseung x fem reader

genre. dark romance, smut, light humor.

word count. 6.1k+

warnings. swearing, obsessive behavior, stalking, brief mention of drink spiking (doesn’t actually happen), mention of alcohol consumption, person held in captivity, mention of past infidelity, extremely brief mention of childbirth, smut [ consensual somno, oral (fem receiving), p in v, sex toy usage ]. this fic contains dark content and is not at all how i view these idols. minors and ageless blogs dni. 18+ content read at your own discretion.

featuring. hwang yeji & shin ryujin (itzy)

a/n. happy valentine’s day babies!! wanted to do something cute and light but i fear it just wasn’t working out … so this right here is for my dark romance girlies hehe enjoy! drew inspo from the television show “you”! shoutout to bae @yangkkomi for beta reading

Lee Heeseung has the worst case of separation anxiety when it comes to you.

The mere thought of being away from you for too long is enough to send him into a spiral, and you barely even realize the effect you had on him. His naturally clingy nature raised no concerns to you; in fact, you relish in his borderline unhealthy infatuation with you — seeing as your previous boyfriend of ten months disappeared on a random Tuesday afternoon, leaving nothing behind but a note claiming he needed to start a new life.

The week of Park Jongseong’s sudden disappearance was agonizing. Yes, he assured everyone he was okay and simply was moving onto a new chapter in his life, and that no one drove him to make such a rash decision, but something about the situation didn’t sit well with you.

Jongseong wasn’t impulsive in the slightest, and you would argue he was one of, if not the most, mature, level headed men you’ve dated. He was distant at times which often felt unsettling, but had his reasonings and assured you he couldn’t have been happier in the relationship. That was one of your favorite things about Jongseong, how he always knew just what to say to calm your nerves, and how he always had a rational explanation for everything.

Running away so suddenly was out of character for him, and a part of you feared that, despite the note left behind, there was something malicious going on that led to his disappearance.

Your older sister, Yeji, had just given birth and was in the midst of planning her wedding, while your parents deemed themselves as “too busy to deal with your issues”, leaving you to become a shell of yourself without having anyone to confide in. Days turned into weeks of you locking yourself in your apartment, typing your ex boyfriend’s name into the search bar over and over, hoping something new would pop up; but nothing ever did.

After a long, tiring day of Zoom meetings and doing more research on Jongseong, your eyes had begun to flutter shut when a knock on your front door wakes you. Expecting it to be your Doordash driver dropping off a greasy, million calorie cheeseburger and a can of soda, you yell out to leave it at the front door. The knocking persisted, and with a sigh, you dragged your feet all the way to the front door, certainly shocked at the man that stood before you.

You don’t even give him the chance to explain himself before you’re asking, “Why do you look familiar?”

He grins at you, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the cardboard box in his hands. “Unless you’re a book lover we probably don’t know each other; I’m a manager of a bookstore downtown, I’m there all the time.”

“Is it… Brookhaven? You guys have K-pop albums too, right?”

“Book-haven,” he corrects you with a polite nod, “and, yeah, we have albums. Have you been to the shop?”

“A few times.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very self conscious of your outfit choice. With the option to have your camera off during the Zoom meetings, you felt no desire to get dressed for the day, opting to work in your oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts. 

The unnamed man wore casual clothing — a grey North Face jacket atop a black t-shirt and white cargos — yet, you felt completely underdressed in comparison to him. His gaze was piercing yet gentle, like he carried a certain confidence about himself in a way that didn’t come off as cocky or arrogant. Though, you really couldn’t blame him if he were the conceited type; he was definitely an attractive man.

The silver chain on his neck had been paired perfectly with matching earrings, including a silver hoop on his helix. His hair, though likely not his natural color, suited him perfectly; the subtle curls and waves giving him a classic, boyish look with bangs that fell just beneath his eyebrows.

You clear your throat, gesturing towards the package in his hands, “Are you dropping this off?”

“Yes! Uh, FedEx dropped off some packages at my store yesterday and it looks like this must’ve gotten mixed in,” he explains, extending the package towards you, “I tried calling the number on the label yesterday but no one answered, so I’m just swinging by to drop it off.”

You accept the package, rolling your eyes at the mixup. “FedEx is always doing bullshit.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Trust, I’m fully aware. The driver for our block is this old-ass man; I once caught him asleep in his truck.”

You laugh a little too loud at this, inwardly cringing at yourself afterwards as you tuck the package beneath your arm. “Well, thanks for bringing my package…?” You trail off, hoping he’ll complete your sentence by offering you his name.

“Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.”

“Thank you, Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.” You repeat, earning a grin from him.

“No worries,” he responds, fishing something out of his pocket, “and feel free to stop by the store sometime, especially now that you have a coupon.” He says, offering you the small slip of paper from his pocket.

You accept it, eyes widening at the “BOGO FREE KPOP ALBUM” staring back at you. “I…is this real? You really don’t have to.”

Heeseung shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s no big deal, I keep coupons on me to hand out, anyway. Plus, we’re trying to make room for more stock.” He says, slowly walking backwards down the hall as he inches away from your door. Like a magnet, your body automatically angles towards him, hoping he’ll say something else.

“You’ll just have to request a manager when you’re ready to use it, regular associates can’t process certain coupons under their employee number.”

You nod, free-hand gripping the doorframe as your eyes follow Heeseung, “What days do you work?”

He shrugs again, “Doesn’t have to be me, I have two assistant managers that are there pretty often.”

“Right, but, when are you there?”

He pauses, titling his head at you before responding, “Monday through Friday, eleven-to-eight. Sometimes I stop by once or twice on the weekends to check in.”

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

“All day, eleven-to-eight.”

The following morning, you had the sudden urge to buy a K-pop album and get another one for free.

Heeseung had spent a good portion of that morning conversing with you from behind the counter, listening intently when you got on the topic of your previous boyfriend’s disappearance. It’s still a touchy subject for you, and probably not the best thing to talk about while getting to know a guy you’re interested in, but Heeseung’s question on how “such a pretty girl” like you was single required a truthful answer. Initially, you feared your response of “my boyfriend went missing” would be enough to scare him off, but Heeseung didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

In fact, in the two-and-a-half months you’d been dating Heeseung there was almost nothing you could say or do that would phase him to the point of genuine concern. Not how it took an insane amount of motivation for you in order to clean your apartment (he was fine cleaning it himself), or how often you’d forget to take your very much needed medication (he was more than happy to remind you every morning and night, and even went as far as requesting a refill when the bottle was nearly empty and picking it up for you). Catering to your every need was just another simple task for him, and you’re more than grateful that the universe seemingly dropped him right in your lap when you needed it most.

Heeseung was patient, understanding, and was absolutely devoted to your relationship. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but the best, and was keen on making sure to provide for you. 

Cooking for you was probably his favorite task. He wasn’t the best at it per se, but improved with every attempt, and you seemed to enjoy his meals despite them not being to his liking.

He’d woken up early this morning to prepare a Valentine’s day breakfast for you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slipped out of bed and into your kitchen. The original plan was to go all out and cook a ridiculous breakfast feast he’d seen on TikTok that featured cinnamon rolls, sausage, and fluffy pancakes.

He burnt the first batch of cinnamon rolls and decided it best to simplify your feast down to eggs, bacon, and french toast sticks. Slightly disappointed that his original plan didn’t work out, your boyfriend sighs at himself as he pours a glass of cranberry juice before setting it on a wooden tray table. How he made it to your bedroom without dropping everything was beyond him, considering how he was still weak from sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open.

Heeseung pushed the door open with his foot, peeking his head in slightly and furrowing his brows at your sleeping figure. If not from the noise of clattering dishes, he was almost certain the smell of food would be enough to wake you up. He knew you were a heavy sleeper, but never realized how heavy.

“How are you still asleep?” He mumbles to himself with a sigh, setting the tray of food on your desk before retreating to your bed. He digs his knee into the edge of the  mattress, gently shaking your leg in an attempt to wake you. You don’t budge, your slumber remaining unaffected as the sounds of your light snoring continue to fill the room. His fingers trail down your leg until they reach the sole of your foot, his fingernails softly tickling the sensitive area until you’re jerking your leg away in discomfort.

“Weirdo.” You say through a yawn, angling your body until you’re laying on your side.

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your insult, grabbing ahold of your leg as he responds, “A true weirdo would’ve put their mouth on it, you’re lucky it’s just me. Now get up, I made breakfast.”

Waking you up was no easy task, whether it was seven in the morning or half past noon. Heeseung suspects you’re still recovering from sleep debt after all the nights you’d spent lying awake researching Jongseong’s disappearance. The nights you could sleep didn’t typically didn’t last long; it’d either take hours until you finally drifted off, or you’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare; leaving you unable to go back to sleep.

Your sleep schedule hadn’t gotten back on track until you met Heeseung, who made sure you were taking melatonin, iron pills, and just about anything that would help you sleep soundly and feel less tired during the day. And while the extra supplements may be working, there was still a lot of sleep debt you were recovering from; an almost concerning amount that made it difficult for you to get up most days.

You groan into your pillow when the smell of Heeseung’s freshly made breakfast hits your nose, your mouth nearly salivating from the scent alone. As much as you wanted to sit up and start eating, your limbs were still heavy with exhaustion. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up,” you plead, “I promise.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “Y/N,” he whines, “just get up, I wanna spend time with you before work. You can go back to sleep after I leave.”

Today was the release day of author, Shin Ryujin’s, newest sapphic romance novel that Heeseung could not remember the title of; just that it featured a lot of smut, has over twenty-four chapters, and was highly anticipated. Her team had reached out to Bookhaven not too long ago, inquiring about hosting a Q+A session and book signing event on the day of its release. Initially, Heeseung had planned to reject the offer since it fell on Valentine’s day and that type of event required his presence, and he’d originally planned on spending the entire day with you. The payout of said event, however, was more than enough to get him on board.

He’d be leaving the shop and heading over to you around five, and have Sunoo or Jungwon close up, leaving him with just seven hours with you that he’d planned to make the most of. All he needed now was for you to wake the hell up before he has to leave.

You still don’t budge, mumbling something incoherent before the snores resume and you’ve drifted back to sleep.

“Babe,” he says flatly, shaking your leg. “Y/N. Baby. Dude, get up.”

Still nothing, and Heeseung’s on the verge of kissing your forehead and calling it a day, but there is one thing that could get you up.

Slowly, he peels the thick comforter off of your body, relishing in the fact that you chose to sleep in one of his shirts. Allowing himself further onto the mattress, Heeseung’s hand reahes for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up just enough to reveal your lavender colored panties. He pauses, glancing up at you momentarily before lowering his head and nestling it between your thighs.

He starts off slow, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards. Pausing right at your hip bone, Heeseung’s fingertips move to the core of your underwear, lightly scratching at your cunt through the soft material. Frustrated, he whines your name once more before slowly trailing your panties down and off your legs, discarding of them on the other side of the mattress.

Fingernails digging into your flesh, he grips your thighs as he repositions himself at eye level with your cunt, inching forward slowly until he’s pressing his lips right against yours. It’s gentle at first, much like how he’d kiss you any other time, a few gentle pecks until he was desperate for more.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and finally has his tongue fall flat against your entrance. The groan that escapes his mouth from the contact comes from deep in his chest, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indents on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping them.

He licks a long, slow strip along your cunt upwards towards your clit, licking and sucking at the bud as if savoring the feeling of your taste on his tongue. He repeats his movements a few more times, growing desperate as the seconds pass by, each moan and whine from him becoming more desperate and whiny than the last. You shift around slightly, furrowing your brows a bit, but still not fully awake.

Another minute passes by and you’re still asleep. Your body automatically responding to Heeseung’s touches, but they’re still not enough to wake you. He’s not bored in the slightest, though, and would argue that he could probably go on for hours if that’s what it took; but he has to leave soon, and needs you awake as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he kisses your thigh once before twisting his body and reaching over to your nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging around slightly until his fingers brush against the rubber vibrator he’d been searching for. It’s an air pulsing one you’d bought before you’d met Heeseung, and when he’d discovered it in your room for the first time, he’d insisted on implementing it into your sex lives as much as possible.

He turns it on, choosing to keep it on the first setting before pressing it directly on your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the contact, with Heeseung keeping his gaze fixed on your face. Gently massaging the toy against your cunt, your eyes slowly began to flutter open, a loud moan echoing through the room as Heeseung turned the toy up to a medium setting.

You grab a fistful of Heeseung’s hair, yanking him forward until his mouth is on your cunt again. The sudden roughness takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the slightest; in fact, he can feel himself stiffening in his boxers from you gripping his hair alone.

Moaning into your cunt, Heeseung does his best to keep the vibrator pressed against you while he eats you out. His desperation was astonishing, his moans nearly being as loud and whiny as yours as he continued.

When you’re finally close, which doesn’t take very long; Heeseung discards the vibrator completely; mindlessly tossing it on the floor to lap at your cunt with his tongue. He presses it flat against you, dragging your wetness up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips.

You orgasm almost instantly at that, trapping Heeseung's head between your thighs as you come on his face with your back arching off the bed and swears pouring from your lips.

You’re panting as you come down from your high, breath rigged as you drape your arm against your forehead, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Heeseung asks, voice muffled as you finally release his head was still trapped between your thighs.

“Shit,” you loosen the grip, “sorry, Hee.”

“Don’t apologize. Oh my God, I could’ve died like that and would’ve been okay with it.”

Weirdly enough, you don’t think he’s joking.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you okay?”

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, “I’m definitely up.”

“Yeah, me too,” He responds, tapping on his painfully hard erection. “Can I…?”

“If you do all the work, sure.”

Heeseung scoffs, already moving to tug his pajama pants down, “As if I ever let you do any of it.”

It’s not a complaint, Heeseung was more than happy being the more assertive one when it came to your sex life. He didn’t mind doing most of the work as long as it meant you were getting off.

When he turns you to lay on your side you let him, resting your back against his chest as he teases his tip at your entrance. You bite down on your bottom lip, hand gripping the bed sheets when he finally does slide himself in. Heeseung grunts into your ear, placing a gentle hand on your hip, “ ‘m gonna go a little bit fast, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, either.

At your confirmation, Heeseung pulled out of you entirely before pushing himself back in; his thrusts overwhelmingly fast but not painful or rough. You yelp when he bites down on your neck, though, a habit he picked up upon finding out you enjoy being marked up.

He was certain that neither of you will last long like this, so it doesn’t surprise him that after a few minutes you’re already creeping up on your orgasm. Heeseung takes this as a sign to speed up his already quick thrusts, his nails digging into your hip as he presses his head onto your shoulder.

You finish first with Heeseung just a few seconds behind you, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him filling you up with his cum. As always, he keeps his dick buried in you for another minute longer, only pulling out when he’s reminded of how little time he has.

Sitting up, Heeseung moves a few stray strands of hair out of the way to plant kisses on your face, but you stop him with the excuse of not having brushed your teeth yet before he’s able to properly kiss you on the lips.

He scoffs, “You just came on my face, do you think I care if you have morning breath? Don’t insult me.”

“At least let me eat first so I can get this weird taste out of my mouth,” you counter, reaching over your shoulder to pat Heeseung on the cheek. “Can I do that?”

Heeseung lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, “If you insist. Let me clean you up first, though.”

He stands from the bed, awkwardly pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up before excusing himself to your bathroom. He takes care of himself first before running a rag under the sink faucet and returning to your bedroom.

After cleaning you up with practiced ease, Heeseung discards of the rag in your bathroom hamper and slips back into your bedroom, finally delivering you the breakfast in bed he’d been anticipating all week, a wide grin on his face as he sets the wooden tray down on your lap. “All your favorites: french toast sticks, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a glass of cranberry juice. Bone apple teeth.”

You chuckle at his joke, admiring the feast laying in your lap as you grab a strip of bacon, “Where’s your food?” You ask, noticing there was only enough servings for one person.

Heeseung shakes his head, resting the palm of his hand on your bare knee as he sits across from you, “I’ll pick up something on the way to work, didn’t have time to make enough for both of us.”

With a pout, you take a bite of the bacon strip, “Now I feel bad.”

Heeseung grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t, consider this part one of your Valentine’s gift.”

You’ve finished the first strip by now, moving onto the second one as you use your free hand to retrieve your phone from the nightstand. “Well, at least let me pay for your breakfast then.”

He shakes his head at you, reaching for your phone that you manage to pull out of reach. “Babe, you seriously don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond, halfway through Venmo-ing him fifteen dollars, “that should be enough.”

“Y/N…”

“Done! And don’t send it back or else I’ll be really sad, you know gift-giving is my love language.”

He chuckles, using the fork and knife on the tray table to cut a piece of the french toast stick, “Thank you, baby. You spoil me.” He dips the fork into the container of maple syrup before bringing it up to your parted lips, cupping his hand underneath to prevent the syrup from dripping onto the bed sheets.

You hum, cupping Heeseung’s face as you chew, “Anything for my princess. Also, you said this was part one of my gift?”

Heeseung nods, cutting another square off the french toast, “Part two is still later tonight, once I’m off work.”

“Can you tell me what it is now, please?” You plead, clasping your hands together as you jutt out your bottom lip, staring up at him with a pout. For the past week, Heeseung had been teasing about this big Valentine’s day surprise he had planned for you, claiming it would be the “surprise of a lifetime”.

He hums, feeding you another forkful. “I’ll tell you this, when you have the time, you’re gonna have to pack an overnight bag.” Your eyes light up, waiting patiently before speaking as Heeseung continues, “And, you’re gonna have to be dressed up once I pick you up after work. Nothing crazy fancy, just… something nice.”

Heeseung can tell you want to bombard him with more questions, and brings another forkful of food to your lips before you have the chance. “I’ll be picking you up around five-forty-five, ‘m sorry I’ll have to be at the shop most of the day.”

You shake your head, picking up the glass of cranberry juice, “Don’t be, I hope the event goes well. If you have extras, can you bring me a copy of the book?”

“For sure, and I’ll see if I can leave any sooner so we have some extra time together.”

“You seriously don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a sip of your drink, “besides, I have some errands to run in the meantime.”

Heeseung raises a brow at you, “Oh? You’re going out today?”

You nod excitedly, setting the cup on your nightstand, “Yeji and I are taking the baby to a Mommy-and-Me yoga class then doing some shopping.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at the mention of your sister, setting the fork and knife back onto the tray table. You frown at him, shoulders slouching as you tilt your head, “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

“I never said I hated Yeji.”

“You didn’t have to, it’s pretty obvious. You never wanna talk to her when she’s around and you roll your eyes whenever I mention her.”

Heeseung shrugs, “She’s just not my cup of tea, is all. Our personalities clash.”

Of course there’s more to it than clashing personalities, but you’re not quite ready for the full truth just yet, so he decides to leave it at that. “Anyways, how are Jake and Jihan?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your future brother-in-law and nephew, “I talked to Yeji yesterday and she said things are good! Jihan is starting to roll over and Jake plans on asking his friend, Sunghoon, to be his best man. Oh, and Yeji says the baby is finally starting to look like Jake.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Mmhm, Jake is so happy.”

“Good for him,” Heeseung mumbles, watching as you take a bite of the eggs. “Gonna have to head out now, but I loaded my card onto your Apple Wallet, ‘kay? Use that while you shop.”

You blink at him, “When’d you do that?”

“Last night, consider it part one-and-a-half of your gift.”

“You spoil me.”

Heeseung grins, “Anything for you.”

The drive to Bookhaven is quiet, with Keshi playing from the stereo as Heeseung made his way to the shop and parked by the employee entrance.

Stepping right into a pile of snow, he shuts the car door behind him before making his way across the street and stopping by his favorite breakfast cafe, Heaven’s Treats. He ordered his usual: two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants and two bottles of water; using your fifteen-dollar Venmo gift to pay and tipping the staff with a few dollars cash.

He heads back over to his shop afterwards, unlocking and entering through the employee entrance. Once inside, he unlocks his office door first, setting the bag of food down on his desk before heading into the main area of the shop. Taking a few minutes to wipe down tables and put away loose books, Heeseung hums to himself as he enjoys how quiet and peaceful the shop is. Shin Ryujin was sure to bring in a crowd later today, and he can already tell he’d be leaving the shop with a headache.

Once finished, Heeseung retreats back to his office and shuts the door behind him, grabbing the bag of food from the desk before walking over to the closet door. With a sigh, he opens it up, pushing the file cabinet to the side to reveal the door to the hidden basement. His eyes jot down to the keypad under the doorknob, where he quickly types in your anniversary before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

Staring down at the wooden staircase, Heeseung sighs once again, “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, he retreats down the steps and into the basement, looking over into the glass chamber and finding Jongseong, your ex boyfriend, sound asleep on his mattress. Heeseung chuckles once he’s made it down the stairs, walking over to the pass-through attached to the glass chamber and opening it, sliding in the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water before shutting it with a loud click!

Heeseung retreats over to his desk and computer monitors that sat opposite of the glass chamber, sitting on his office chair before grabbing and turning on the intercom microphone. “Sleeping in?”

His voice comes out ten times louder in the glass chamber’s speaker, jolting Jongseong out of his sleep as he presses the palms of his hands onto his ears. “Jesus fuckin’… is the intercom necessary?! You’re right there! I can hear you through the glass!”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, setting the microphone back on the desk, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” Jongseong sighs in response, rubbing his eyes as Heeseung continues, “Brought you breakfast, it’s in the pass-through. Eat before it gets cold.”

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? Sick fuck.” Jongseong spits, arms folded across his chest as he stares at Heeseung through the glass.

“Do something like what?”

“I don’t know, spike my drink like last time?”

Heeseung lets out an agitated groan as he slumps in his chair, retrieving his own food from the takeout bag as he responds, “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t fucking drug you that night? You actually made everything a lot easier by getting blackout drunk at a fucking nightclub.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t blackout? Then what?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re away from Y/N.”

Jongseong shivers at the mention of your name, immediately looking away from Heeseung and focusing his attention on the food in the pass-through.

Around six months ago, you’d showed up to Bookhaven hand-in-hand with Jongseong, and Heeseung had been enthralled with you ever since. He spent is every waking moment doing his research on you, which included doing a deep dive on the people closest to you: your immediate family, close friends, and stupid fucking boyfriend.

Heeseung knew the moment he laid eyes on Jongseong that he was no good for you, and was clearly putting up a facade when the two of you were together. Heeseung saw right through it, how quickly he’d pull out his phone to snap a text when you were looking, how he’d roll his eyes whenever you got too excited about something, how he almost never responded to your PDA — he was the fucking worst, and you deserved so much better. You deserved Lee Heeseung.

Days leading up to Jongseong’s disappearance, Heeseung had been watching him like a hawk; cyber-stalking him as closely as possible without being caught, until, finally, Jongseong decided to go clubbing one night.

Heeseung’s original plan was to wait until Jongseong was slightly drunk and knock him out, but Jongseong getting blackout drunk on his own accord made things way easier for Heeseung — all he had to do was pretend to be a friend to Jongseong and convince everyone else he’d be getting him home safely.

Dumbasses, all of them.

Jongseong stands, scratching the back of his neck as he walks over to the pass-through.

“Anyways, it’s Valentine’s day,” Heeseung says after biting into his own sandwich, “you have any plans? Oh wait.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes again, mumbling “Fuck you” under his breath as he retrieves his food and drink. He inspects the sandwich thoroughly before taking a bite, chewing slowly as if trying to taste each and every spice and flavor.

“Wait,” Heeseung speaks, suddenly realizing something, “if you just woke up, that means you missed the show.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes a third time, already knowing what Heeseung was getting at. “I’m sure I didn't miss much.”

Heeseung swivels around in his office chair to face the three monitors, each one surveilling different areas in your apartment. You were blissfully unaware of the hidden cameras he’d set up in your home that have been recording your every move for months on end. He’s doing it for your own safety, really; keeping an eye on you at all times.

You’re in the kitchen now, loading up the dishwasher with music playing from your phone, stopping every few seconds to belt out the lyrics or make an attempt at doing the choreography. Heeseung enjoys watching you like this, when you truly get to be yourself because you think no one is around.

He grins, switching over to the center monitor and hitting the rewind button until he sees himself entering your bedroom, “There we go.” Heeseung monitors himself closely, watching as he sets the tray of food down on your desk before walking over to your mattress.

He moves out of the way so Jongseong has a better view of the screen, a smug expression on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. The monitors were on at all hours, meaning the only entertainment Jongseong had was watching you stroll around your house. Weirdly enough, it pleases him to keep an eye on you like this, making sure you’re still okay after all this time.

He can do without watching you and Heeseung have sex, though.

Jongseong turns his head away the moment Heeseung removes the blanket from your body, groaning in disgust as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “I don’t need to see this.”

Heeseung shrugs, mumbling, “Your loss” as he speeds up the replay. He prefers to focus on the key moments anyway, like the face you make right before you come on his, or how your entire body tensed when he leaned down to bite on the nape of your neck.

As arousing as it was to play back all those moments, he primarily used it as a personal study guide on what you liked the most, so he’d be better at pleasing you going forward. This behavior had started before the two of you even got together, if he’s being completely honest. One simple, playful retweet from you about preferring to receive oral rather than give it had him ordering a pocket pussy the very next day to practice on.

The first time the two of you hooked up, Heeseung had spent approximately twenty-four minutes going down on you, only stopping when you expressed concerns about his jaw locking up — not that he cared.

“Wait a second,” Jongseong pauses, crumbling the empty food wrapper into a ball before tossing it to the floor, “what happened to that big breakfast feast you kept talking about, huh? With the, uh, the pancakes and cinnamon rolls?”

When Heeseung doesn’t respond, Jongseong continues taunting, “What, realized you couldn’t do it? That you can do something as simple as prepare a meal? Wow, are you—”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Heeseung interrupts him with a shake of his head, swiveling around in his office chair until he’s facing Jongseong, “You think you’re better than me because you know how to cook? Go on then, cook something. Go to the stove and prove you’re better at me than cooking.”

Silence falls between the two, with Jongseong glaring daggers at Heeseung as he tightens his fists.

“Oh, wait,” Heeseung continues, tapping his chin, “you can’t cook; you’re trapped in my basement while I fuck your girlfriend.“

“Whatever.”

“Oh, now it’s whatever, but just a second ago you were so much better than me for knowing how to cook — you also know how to lie and cheat.”

“Whatever, Heeseung, just drop it.”

“How do you think Y/N would feel if she found out you were cheating on her with her own sister? How old do you think Jihan will be before Jake realizes why they look nothing alike?” Heeseung questions, tilting his chin at Jongseong, as if expecting a legitimate answer.

The mere thought of Jongseong and your own sister getting together behind your back is enough to make Heeseung gag; he couldn’t fucking believe two of the closest people in your life would deceive you like that. It was beyond disgusting, and he had a strong distaste for Yeji the moment he found out.

Ashamed, Jongseong turn away from Heeseung’s gaze. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, turning around in his seat until he’s facing the monitors, “Anything involving Y/N is my business, fuck-face, including you and anyone else that bothers her.”

He navigates the surveillance controls until he’s back to watching you in real time, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile when he sees you facetiming someone. He shushes Jongseong, who hadn’t even been speaking, as he turns the volume up in order to hear you better.

“…and I think he looks just like you, seriously…Jake?…I mean, I don’t know…I’m not really seeing the resemblance yet…”

Realizing who you were talking to and what the topic of conversation was, Heeseung clicks his tongue, “They may even find out sooner than you think.”

The sound of Yeji’s voice through the speaker has him rolling his eyes as he turns down the volume, not that it mattered, considering you disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later.

“Hey,” Jongseong taps on the glass, “let me ask you something.”

“No.”

“Why do you have a camera in every room except the bathroom?”

It’s a genuine question, but it comes out more perverted than Jongseong had intended it to.

As if the answer was obvious, Heeseung raises a brow as he responds, “I’m giving her privacy, pervert.”

[drewsephrry]

Love Island: Episode 2

series masterlist

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.9k

warnings: cuss words

The fun and relaxed vibe the islanders had been building quickly shifts when the new arrival walks in.

“Woah! A girl!” Topper calls out from the kitchen, prompting a giggle from the newcomer as she approaches and greets him with a hug. Y/N, Sarah and Maddy exchange glances while Rafe, JJ and John B get off the daybed to meet the new girl. Rafe turns back to the girls with a teasing grin.

“Not coming?” He jokes, prompting them to get up. Y/N adjusts her dress, taking Maddy’s hand as they join the group.

“Why do I feel like she’s going to stir up some drama?” Y/N whispers, earning a snicker from Maddy.

“You’re probably right. My intuition’s saying the same thing.” Maddy replies as they follow the others. The islanders greet her warmly, introducing themselves with hugs.

“I’m Alyssa!” She announces with a bright smile. “Shall we head to the firepit? I’d love to get to know all of you!” She leads the way enthusiastically, the boys trailing after her while the girls hesitate before following.

As they all settle in, the boys begin asking Alyssa questions. It isn’t long before she glances around the group.

“Okay, so who’s coupled up with who?” She asks. Topper quickly wraps an arm around Sarah’s shoulders.

“I’m with Sarah.” He declares, as if staking his claim. Alyssa nods, her gaze shifting to Rafe, who is sitting beside Y/N.

“What about you? Rafe, right?” She asks. Rafe blinks, caught off guard.

“Uh, yeah. I’m, uh…I’m coupled up with Y/N,” He stammers making Y/N’s brows furrow slightly as Alyssa smirks.

“And how are things going between you two?” Alyssa presses, leaning forward slightly. Rafe glances at Y/N, seemingly searching for the right words.

“It’s still early days, but things are good.” Y/N answers when his silence lingers. The rest of the couples share their pairings as Alyssa nods thoughtfully. Later, the boys excuse themselves to let the girls chat with Alyssa.

“What’s your type?” Cleo asks curiously, making Alyssa pretend to think.

“Hmm…someone fit, with light eyes, that always gets me. Someone who’s fun but can have deep conversations too.” She pauses. “Rafe seems like that kind of guy.” She adds, causing the girls to exchange pointed looks. “Honestly, Rafe and Y/N seem like the it-couple here. They’re so close already and it’s only day two.” Maddy speaks up, making Y/N roll her eyes jokingly. Alyssa shruggs, undeterred.

“Well, like you said, it’s early days. His head could still turn.” She reveals, making the girls widen their eyes as they look at Y/N who turns to Maddie.

“Told you. Drama starter.” Y/N mutters to Maddy, who giggles, before turning back into conversation.

“Look, I’m not here to make seasonal girlfriends. I’m here to find love. If that means stepping on toes, so be it. You can’t expect to stay coupled up with the same person for weeks on end.” Alyssa leans back, addressing the group.

The girls exchange tense glances as Alyssa stands up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to chat with the boys. See you around.” She walks away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly as she approaches the guys in the kitchen.

“Oh my god.” Sarah mutters.

“I was this close to punching her.” Kiara says through gritted teeth.

“She’s got some nerve.” Cleo adds. They all turn to Y/N, expecting a reaction.

“Aren’t you going to say something? She basically said she’s coming for Rafe.” Kiara presses, but Y/N only shrugs.

“Guys, it's still the second day. I…yeah, I have fun with Rafe already and there’s definitely something building there, but if his head is gonna turn, I can't help it.” She says, her voice casual, though there’s an underlying tension in her words.

“He’s not going to go for her.” Maddy says confidently and the others nod in agreement.

“Early days, Mads.” She tries to remind Maddy, but mostly says it as a reminder to herself.

The rest of the evening unfolds with Alyssa effortlessly mingling with the guys, laughing and chatting as she tries to make connections. When it’s finally time to wind down, the girls retreat to the makeup room, giggling and talking as they remove their makeup and change for bed. Alyssa, however, is in the bathroom, mid-skincare routine, when Rafe walks in wearing nothing but his boxers, ready to brush his teeth.

“Oh, hey.” He says casually, grabbing and wetting the bristles of his toothbrush. Alyssa smirks, letting her hair tumble free from her ponytail and running her fingers through it.

“Hey, Rafe.” She replies, her tone light and flirtatious. She leans against the counter, her gaze roaming over his defined chest and abs.

“You good? Having fun?” He asks, voice slightly muffled from toothpaste as he starts brushing his teeth.

“Yeah.” She answers, her smirk widening. “You guys are fun. Nice. And very good-looking.” Rafe chuckles, spitting into the sink before wiping his mouth with a towel. She steps closer, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

“So, what is it you said you do?”

“My family owns a construction and development company.” Rafe replies, his tone polite but detached. Alyssa nods thoughtfully.

“Do you have a type?” She asks, her bluntness catching him off guard.

“Uh…not really.” He says after a pause. “I guess I like someone I can have fun with, adventures, good banter, that sort of thing.” As he speaks, his thoughts drift to Y/N. If they could go far enough to explore whatever this chemistry between them has to offer.

“Oh my god, that’s exactly what I look for too!” Alyssa exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “So…would you say I’m your type?” Rafe glances at her briefly before shrugging.

“Uh, sure.” He replies nonchalantly, his tone devoid of enthusiasm, but Alyssa smirks.

“Good to know.” She murmurs.

Just then, the bathroom door opens and Y/N steps inside. She’s wearing a pink pajama set with delicate lace trim, her tank top and shorts hugging her frame perfectly. Her wide eyes flicker between them.

“Am I interrupting?” She asks quietly, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. Rafe straightens immediately, relief washing over him at the sight of her.

“No, no, not at all.” He assures her, stepping aside so she can reach the sink. Alyssa gives Y/N a slow, appraising look before humming softly.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it. Nice talking to you, Rafe.” Without waiting for a response, she saunters out of the room. Y/N ties her hair back and begins washing her face. Rafe leans against the counter, watching her through the mirror.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice softer now and she nods, glancing at him with a small smile. Rafe’s chest tightens at her smile. He waits patiently as she finishes rinsing her face and grabs her toothbrush.

“What do you think of Alyssa?” She asks suddenly, catching him off guard. Rafe’s brows shoot up.

“Uh…she’s…okay?” He says hesitantly and Y/N raises an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

“She’s pretty.” He admits, shifting uncomfortably. “But there’s something missing. I just…I don’t think I could ever be attracted to her. Not in the same way as…” He trails off, his gaze locking with hers through the mirror. He closes his eyes, scratching the back of his neck, before finishing his sentence. “…you.”

Y/N’s eyes widen as she nearly chokes on her toothpaste. She turns away, coughing violently. Rafe immediately steps forward, gently rubbing her back.

“You okay? Want me to grab you some water?” He asks, concerned but she shakes her head, still coughing.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just…swallowed wrong.” She manages, her cheeks flushing as she spits into the sink. Rafe chuckles, leaning against the counter again as she wipes her mouth. His eyes drift over her, taking in her loose ponytail and her now-glowing, makeup-free face.

“What’s that?” He asks when she grabs a small jar from the counter.

“My moisturizer.” She explains, with a hoarse voice. “Do you want some?” Rafe nods, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Only if you do it.” He murmurs making Y/N laugh softly as she gestures for him to lean down. He crouches slightly, closing his eyes as her fingers gently glide over his face. Her touch is featherlight and Rafe exhales a deep breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“That feels…really good.” He whispers. Y/N smiles, carefully working the cream into his skin.

“It’ll feel sticky at first, but it’s great for hydration. With all the sun we’re exposed to, it helps a lot.” She explains. When she finishes, Rafe glances in the mirror, noting the glow on his face.

“Looks good.” He says, turning back to her. His eyes linger as she adjusts her tank top strap and his jaw tightens at the sight of her effortless beauty.

“Ready to head downstairs?” He asks, clearing his throat and Y/N nods, leading the way to the bedroom. They settle into their respective sides of the bed, adjusting the covers. Y/N shifts slightly, her leg brushing against his and Rafe’s breath hitches.

As the rest of the islanders head to bed and the lights dim, Rafe props himself on one elbow, watching Y/N as she faces him. He brushes a strand of hair away from her face.

“You don’t have to worry about her, you know.” He whispers, making Y/N hum softly in question, her eyes meeting his.

“Alyssa.” He clarifies. “I like what we have and I want to see where it goes. However long or short that is.” His fingers twist a strand of her hair as he speaks, his voice barely audible. Y/N smiles, her arm draping over his torso in response. Rafe mirrors her smile, pulling her closer. He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, the warmth of her body lulling him into a peaceful sleep.

The next day moves at a slower pace compared to the earlier ones. The girls lounge by the pool, gossiping about the boys as they work out and relax around the villa. Rafe and Y/N find a quiet moment together, stretched out on the couch under the terrace, getting to know each other better.

“Do you have any hobbies?” Rafe asks, his eyes closed as Y/N’s nails lightly trace along his arm, the touch comforting them both.

“Uh…I dance. I paint. And I read a lot too.” She reveals, her voice soft but genuine.

“Creative, aren’t you?” He teases, a smirk tugging at his lips, making her chuckle lightly.

“What can I say?” She teases, making him laugh along.

“What kind of dancing do you do?” His curiosity is evident and her touch doesn’t falter as she answers.

“I do some hip-hop, some contemporary too but mostly heels dancing.” She admits casually, catching him by surprise.

“Heels dancing? How does that even work?” He asks, raising a brow in disbelief.

“It’s this really sexy, technical style of dance in stilettos. It can be very challenging, but it’s so beautiful.” She explains, her face lighting up with enthusiasm as she talks about it. Rafe can’t help but admire the way she glows when she speaks about the things she loves.

“That sounds…I mean, I’ve got to see that.” He teases, grinning at her reaction.

“We’ll see about that.” She murmurs, looking away bashfully.

“Don’t get shy on me now.” He prods. “I bet you’re incredible at it. Especially that kind of dance.” Her nails pause briefly as she looks at him.

“You really think so?”

“I do.” He says earnestly. “And I’d love to see you dance. Anytime.” Her lips curl into a smile.

“Okay.” She whispers, agreeing softly.

Their quiet moment is interrupted by the sharp ping of a phone notification. Gasps ripple through the villa and Y/N sits up quickly, exchanging wide-eyed glances with Rafe as he follows her lead.

“Yeah? You’ll actually let me?” He presses, slightly surprised, but her soft laugh and nod are all the confirmation he needs. He grins, satisfied, before pulling his sunglasses back on and laying back down on the couch.

“I got a text!” Alyssa’s voice rings out, full of excitement. Y/N rises from the couch and glances toward the pool, where some of the girls chill in, Rafe instinctively placing a hand on her shoulder as he trails behind her.

“Alyssa, tonight you get to couple up with a boy of your choice, leaving a girl single and vulnerable. #maketherightchoice #steppingontoes.” Alyssa grins, reading the message aloud. Her excitement is palpable, while the rest of the girls exchange uneasy looks. The boys huddle nearby, their murmurs growing louder. Y/N glances at Rafe, the pit in her stomach tightening.

“I’m…I’m gonna go talk to the girls.” She mutters, her voice low. Rafe nods slowly.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later.” He says, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting her go. His eyes follow her as she walks toward Maddy and Sarah, her bikini accentuating every curve.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up.” Sarah groans as Y/N sits down beside her.

“Did you see how thrilled she was to read that? She doesn’t care about any of us.” Maddy snaps, glaring toward Alyssa.

“Y/N, what’s on your mind?” Sarah asks, noticing the tension on her face.

“I…I don’t know. It’s just…I can’t control who she’s going to pick. And if it’s Rafe…” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ll be pretty bummed.” Maddy shakes her head firmly.

“He won’t give her a reason to pick him. He likes you, Y/N. It's obvious.” Before Y/N can respond, Alyssa’s high-pitched voice cuts through the villa.

“Rafey! Can I chat with you?”

Y/N stiffens, glancing over as Alyssa grabs Rafe’s arm. He looks confused but doesn’t protest. He turns back briefly, as if to gauge Y/N’s reaction, but she’s already averting her gaze. With a sigh, he lets Alyssa lead him to a secluded couch far from the others.

“Spoke too soon.” Y/N mutters under her breath, her fingers fidgeting with her ring as she tries to suppress the unease bubbling in her chest.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Maddy insists. “Rafe likes you. A chat doesn’t mean anything.”

Meanwhile, Alyssa is pouring on the charm as she talks to Rafe, her fingers twirling a strand of hair.

“When was your last relationship?” She asks, her tone dripping with fake sweetness. Rafe shifts uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze.

“Over a year ago.” He says flatly.

“Was it a bad breakup?” She presses, leaning in closer and Rafe’s jaw tightens.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Relax, it’s just a question.” Alyssa replies with a low chuckle, her eyes shamelessly scanning him. “You work out, don’t you?” He nods curtly, barely holding back his irritation. Alyssa laughs softly at her own comment, but Rafe is already tuning her out. His thoughts drift back to Y/N. He can’t wait to walk away from this pointless conversation and return to her.

In the kitchen, Y/N is slicing fruit for a smoothie when Pope joins her, sliding onto a nearby stool. His eyes flick toward where Rafe and Alyssa are seated.

“They’ve been talking for a while.” He notes casually. Y/N glances in their direction briefly before returning her attention to the fruit. Her hands move quickly, but her grip on the knife is noticeably tense.

“Are you okay?” Pope asks gently. “Maybe…put the knife down for a second?” Startled, Y/N looks at her trembling hand and sets the knife aside with a sigh.

“I’m fine. Just…you know.” She struggles to explain, but Pope nods knowingly.

“I get it. My ex, she was gorgeous.”

���She’s not dead, Pope.” Y/N quips, cracking a small smile despite herself and he laughs.

“Fair. But yeah, she always got a lot of attention. And I’m not the jealous type, well, I try not to be, but it got to me sometimes.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m just…worried.” Y/N admits.

“That’s fair.” Pope says thoughtfully. “But even if things don’t go as planned, you’ll find someone who’s perfect for you.” He pauses, smirking. “Maybe he’s closer than you think.” Y/N chuckles, shaking her head as Pope blushes.

“Thanks, Pope. I appreciate it.” She says warmly before turning back to her smoothie.

“Hey.” Rafe says casually, drawing both of their gazes. Cleo smirks, rising from her seat.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the villa comes alive once again, music and laughter weaving through the air. Islanders mingle, drinks in hand, their conversations buzzing with energy. Y/N sits with Cleo on the daybed, both of them laughing loudly as they chat, until he approaches.

“I’ll leave you two to do your little Bluetooth thing.” She teases, waving a hand between them. Y/N rolls her eyes, the corners of her lips twitching in amusement.

“See you later, boo.” Y/N murmurs as Cleo leans down to kiss her cheek, then walks away with a knowing grin. Rafe takes her place, kneeling on the daybed before sitting down beside Y/N.

“You okay?” He asks, his voice soft as his eyes fall to her hands, which are busy twisting the rings on her fingers.

“Yeah.” She whispers, but her tone betrays her. Rafe frowns slightly and reaches for her hand, his touch gentle.

“Be honest. Did I do something? You’ve been...distant. Earlier, we were good. Did I say something stupid?” Y/N lifts her head, her eyes meeting his briefly before she shakes her head.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything. It’s just...I...” She trails off, struggling to find the words.

“You can tell me. Whatever it is, I want to know.” He squeezes her hand, his voice steady and comforting. Y/N exhales deeply.

“Alyssa.” She finally murmurs. “She...I’m worried.” Rafe shakes his head immediately.

“You shouldn't be.” He says.

“I mean, I get it…it's pretty early to close things off or anything and of course I'm not gonna ask you to do something like that. It's just…I like…how we are. The vibes, the talks, everything. And…I wanna explore this. But I can't help and worry. You know?” She explains and he nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I get it. And for the record, I do like how things are going too. But…I'm not interested in her.” He assures her, his voice firm. She exhales softly, the tension in her shoulders easing.

“Okay.” She whispers. “But…what if-”

“She's not gonna pick me. I made it pretty clear that I'm not interested in her. Okay? Can you trust me on this?” He asks, grabbing her hand to reassure her. Her fingers tighten around his as she nods, her eyes meeting his. For a moment, everything else fades away. Her breath hitches when his gaze drops to her lips, but the moment is broken by the sharp ping of a phone. Y/N pulls back slightly, her eyes darting to the kitchen where Topper is staring at his screen.

“I got a text!” He announces. “Can all islanders gather at the firepit? #shitisabouttogodown #stealingtime.”

The group buzzes with chatter as they move toward the firepit. Rafe helps Y/N to her feet, keeping her hand in his as they walk. Just before they arrive, he gently tugs her closer.

“We’re going to be okay.” He murmurs, his arm slipping around her waist as he leads her to sit down beside him.

The tension in the air is thick as everyone waits, nerves on edge. Another phone ping sounds and all eyes turn to Alyssa, who smirks as she stands, her phone in hand.

“Alyssa, it’s time for you to choose which boy you want to couple up with.” She reads aloud, stepping forward. The girls exchange uneasy glances, but Y/N keeps her focus on the fire.

“This wasn’t an easy decision.” Alyssa begins, her tone practiced. “I didn’t have much time to think and I’m not sure if it’s the right choice. But this boy made me feel welcome and I really enjoyed the banter we shared. And I think there's more to explore with him.”

“The boy I want to couple up with is...” She pauses, the silence stretching. Sarah glances nervously at Y/N, Kiara’s leg bounces restlessly and Cleo suppresses a yawn.

“Rafe.”

Y/N feels her chest tighten at the reveal, her heart sinking.

“Oh my god.” Maddy whispers. Rafe looks at Alyssa, stunned, before turning to Y/N, whose face is unreadable as she stares into the flames. Alyssa steps closer, extending her hand to Rafe. He rises reluctantly, not touching her, his gaze fixed on Y/N.

Another ping breaks the silence. Y/N picks up her phone with trembling hands.

“Y/N, you are now single.” She reads quietly. “But don’t worry, the best is yet to come. #itsokayboo #troubleinparadise.” Sarah and Maddy immediately move to her side, guiding her away from the firepit. Rafe steps forward, trying to follow, but Cleo blocks him.

“Give her some time, pretty boy.” She says firmly, following the group with Kiara.

“What the fuck just happened?” JJ mutters, staring into the firepit as the others look on in stunned silence.

In the kitchen, the girls gather around Y/N on the couch, their faces etched with concern.

“How are you feeling?” Sarah asks cautiously and Cleo elbows her.

“What kind of question is that? Obviously, she feels like shit.”

“Cleo!” Maddy snaps, before turning back to Y/N. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’m fine.” Y/N lies, twisting her ring anxiously.

“Don’t do that.” Kiara says softly, kneeling in front of her. “It’s okay to be upset.” Y/N exhales shakily.

“He told me not to worry. That he made it clear to her he wasn’t interested. He said she wouldn’t pick him. And yet...here we are.” The girls all stare at her with sympathy, wanting to comfort her. Before the girls can respond, Rafe’s voice cuts in.

“Can we talk?” He asks.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Kiara snaps, her tone icy.

“Fuck off.” Sarah adds sharply.

“All men do is lie.” Cleo mutters, shoving him back. Rafe stumbles and sighs, his eyes glued on Y/N who looks at Maddy on the other side. Maddy rubs her back as she stares back at her.

“Please.” Rafe says desperately, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “I didn’t know she’d do this. Y/N, come on.” Y/N finally looks up at him, her voice steady but cold.

“She wouldn’t have chosen you if you hadn’t given her a reason to.”

“I didn’t!” Rafe exclaims, frustration coloring his voice. “I told her I wasn’t interested!”

“Yeah, right.” Y/N retorts. “I don’t want to hear it, Rafe. You made me trust you and now you’ve ruined it.”

“She didn’t misunderstand.” Alyssa interjects smugly, crossing her arms.

“I didn’t mean to betray your trust…upset you. I meant it when I said that I'm not into her. Okay? I don't know, she…she must have misunderstood.” He exclaims, Alyssa and the boys following her.

Rafe turns to her, frustration evident in his furrowed brows, but before he can say anything, Y/N stands abruptly from the couch and heads inside the villa. The group shifts their attention to Rafe and Alyssa.

“Alyssa, what do you mean?” Sarah asks, adjusting her dress.

“I mean, Rafe was being nice to me, flirting, even. He never said he was closed off or that he wasn’t interested.” Alyssa claims, her voice laced with confidence. Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Alyssa, I’m not interested in you. And I wasn’t flirting. I was just being polite. That’s it.” His tone is firm, and Alyssa stiffens at his words. “I like Y/N.” He continues, his voice unwavering.

“I like how things are with her. Yeah, it’s early and she said we should keep our options open, but I’m not keeping them open for you.” With that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving everyone stunned, including Alyssa.

Upstairs, Y/N sits on the terrace, absentmindedly twisting a ring on her finger as her eyes glimmer. The soft click of the door closing behind Rafe makes her glance up.

“Can we please talk?” He asks, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. She nods and he steps closer, settling beside her.

“Don’t shut me out.” He pleads. “Yell at me if you have to. Just…don’t shut me out.” Y/N sighs, her gaze dropping to her hands.

“I shouldn’t be upset. We never said we were exclusive and it’s still early. But…when she said you made her feel welcome, that she wanted to explore something with you, it frustrated me. Because you told me you weren’t interested. That you made it clear to her.”

“I did make it clear.” Rafe insists. “I swear, I never meant to give her the wrong idea.” She exhales shakily.

“Trust is a big thing for me, Rafe. And it’s not easy for me to just-” She stops, her voice trailing off. Rafe reaches out, resting a reassuring hand on her thigh.

“I know I messed up. I should have been more direct with her.” His thumb brushes against her skin in a soothing motion. “I get it if you’re upset. You have every right to. But I want to make this up to you, to prove to you that I like you, Y/N. That I’m in this.” His voice softens. “I can’t promise I won’t screw up again, because, honestly? I can be kind of an idiot.” A small laugh escapes her lips and Rafe grins.

“But I can promise to try for you.” He finishes, the sincerity in his eyes catching her off guard. She leans in slightly and he takes the hint, cupping her face gently. Her eyes flicker to his lips.

“I don’t want you to feel obliged to choose me.” She murmurs. “I love spending time with you, but I don’t want you turning people down just because of me or because you think you have to.”

“Just…let's see where this takes us? Okay?” She asks and Rafe doesn’t answer. Instead, he closes the distance, pressing his lips to hers. She stiffens for half a second before melting into him, the kiss soft yet charged. When they finally pull apart, Rafe’s lips curl into a small smile.

“Promise me you won’t shut me out.” He whispers. “I need to hear you. Even if it’s just to tell me I’m being a dumbass.” She rolls her eyes playfully.

“Okay, Rafey.” The moment the nickname leaves her lips, Rafe tenses. He swallows hard.

“Wh-what?” His voice comes out rougher than expected. She smirks.

“It’s not ridiculous.” He mutters under his breath, making her brows lift in confusion.

“Oh, that ridiculous nickname Alyssa called you earlier.” She rolls her eyes, grinning.

“Oh? My bad, I didn’t realize you actually liked it-”

“No, no.” He interrupts quickly. “I don’t mean that. I just-” He hesitates, then exhales. “I don’t like it when she says it. But…when you say it? I don’t mind.” Y/N tilts her head, amused.

“Oh? Good to know.” A knowing smile tugs at her lips as she leans back and Rafe watches her, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle.

Under the night sky, they sit together in comfortable silence, the tension between them slowly fading into something lighter, something undeniable.

Later that night, as the islanders get ready for bed, Y/N heads downstairs and immediately notices the newly added bed in the room, her name plaque resting on top. She sighs softly, slipping under the covers and getting comfortable. Maddy walks past, pausing just long enough to press a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to her own bed. Moments later, JJ strolls by and stops beside her, smirking.

“You know, Maddy wouldn’t mind me joining you.” He teases. Y/N rolls her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“Go to bed, J.” She says and JJ shrugs.

“Well, I offered.” He exclaims before wandering off. Soon after, Rafe makes his way to his own bed, only to pause when he notices the name plaque on it has changed. His gaze sweeps the room until he spots her. Without hesitation, he walks over, leans down and presses a kiss to her lips before she can react.

“I’m gonna miss you tonight.” He murmurs, his lips still grazing hers. From across the room, Topper and Sarah holler in amusement, making Y/N giggle. She playfully pecks Rafe’s lips once more.

“You mean you’re gonna miss me hogging the blanket?” She teases.

“Oh, 100%.” He deadpans. “I love waking up in the middle of the night freezing while you’re wrapped up like a human burrito.” She laughs, giving him a gentle push.

“Go to your bed.” She murmurs. Rafe smirks, backing away slowly before finally climbing into his bed, conveniently positioned across from hers. He doesn’t take his eyes off her, watching as she shakes her head and turns to chat with Cleo.

Then, Alyssa enters the room. The energy shifts as everyone’s attention flickers toward her. Without saying a word, she moves to her bed and lies down, keeping to the very edge. She doesn’t look at Rafe. Doesn’t speak to anyone.

“Goodnight, everyone!” Kiara calls from across the room, sparking a chorus of sleepy goodnights as the lights dim. Just as the room falls into silence, Rafe’s voice cuts through the darkness.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” She furrows her brows, cheeks instantly warming, nervous for what to come out of his mouth.

“W-what?”

The entire room seems to hold its breath, waiting for whatever he’s about to say.

“For the love of God and for my sake, please don’t dream of Captain America tonight.” He jokes. Laughter erupts, filling the space. Y/N grins, grabbing her pillow and launching it across the room. It hits Rafe with a muffled thud, making him groan. As the laughter fades and the room settles, Y/N exhales softly, sinking into her bed.

Maybe Rafe was right. They’re going to be okay.

to be continued...

A/N: a little late valentine's day gift for you guys, hehe

taglist: @cherrygirlfriend @judesgfirl @slickdickwitchbitchh @leather-n-velvet @alinavalentine @littlelamy @nami11 @madiisynnxx @ts1mp0ne @starkeyslibrary @venusluves @rafecameronsfavourite @lolharrystylesissexy @nofacenocase00 @k4yr14 @drewslefttoe @tinie03 @angielvsnick @dellevans @malibuhearts @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @harryweeniee @imawhoreforu @fastlovela @jjmaybankmylovee @miserablebl00d @angeliki-spiteri9711 @drewsnr1slut @laniirackssss @emotionsmgcbabe @oconnrs @missabsey @amterasuu @cornliastreett @pvyden @italk2god @swagmoneydrew @lerclec @emmaaas-posts @dorcas4meadowes @isabellaxlilah @xoxosblogsblog @bxbychxrry @julesbog @annaaaamichelle @st8rkey @lewispool @my-name-is-baby @silkylovey @soincredible (if you have added yourself on my taglist and your tag doesn't show up here or if you want to add yourself, comment or reblog!!)

[gf2bellamy]

devoted — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer sees you talking to a guy and he's jealous. what he doesn't know is that you're talking about him. content warnings: established relationship , drunk reader, guy hitting on reader, a/n: i actually meant to post something else today but then i ended up finishing this one instead so here we are

Spencer Reid lost sight of you for five minutes. He could swear it was just five minutes. Derek had asked him a question—something about a case, something Spencer immediately regretted answering because it sent him spiraling into one of his infamous rambles.

By the time he finished explaining the details of geographic profiling and its applications in modern criminal investigations, Derek looked equal parts impressed and exhausted. But when Spencer turned back to where you had been sitting, you were gone. 

His heart skipped a beat. The bar was packed. Even with his tall frame, Spencer couldn’t see over the crowd. He craned his neck, his eyes scanning the room, but there was no sign of you.

Panic bubbled up in his chest. You had been drinking—a lot. And while you were usually responsible, the way you’d been rushing through your drinks tonight had him worried. The last time he’d seen you, your glass had been half full, but knowing you, you’d probably finished it and gone for another.

Which meant you were likely at the bar. 

There was one bartender you particularly liked—a woman named Jess, who you’d once told Spencer was always sweet to you and even gave you a discount on your drinks. Spencer made a beeline for the bar, weaving through the crowd. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more alarming than the last.

And then he saw you. Relief flooded through him, but it was short-lived. Because there you were, perched on a barstool, your cheeks flushed and your eyes bright with the kind of uninhibited joy that only came with being very, very drunk.

But you weren’t alone. You were talking to a guy. 

The guy was muscly, his broad frame towering over you as he leaned casually against the bar. His eyes were fixed on you, his gaze intense and unwavering, but Spencer barely noticed him.

All he could focus on was you. 

Your eyes were dazed, glazed over slightly from the alcohol, but there was something else in them—a soft, lovey-dovey look that made Spencer’s chest ache. It was the same look he loved seeing when you smiled at him, the one that made his heart skip a beat.

But now, that look wasn’t directed at him. It was directed at him. The stranger. The guy who was standing too close, smiling too confidently, and staring at you like you were the only person in the room. 

For a second, Spencer’s heart stopped. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like the way your eyes sparkled as you laughed at something you’d said, or the way your hands moved animatedly as you talked, your gestures exaggerated by the alcohol.

And he most definitely didn’t like the way the guy was staring at you.

Spencer bit his lip, his hands clenching at his sides as he stood frozen in the middle of the crowded bar. People bumped into him, muttering apologies as they pushed past, but he barely registered them. His entire focus was on you.

You were the one doing all the talking, your words tumbling out in a cheerful, slightly slurred stream, while the guy just stood there.

Spencer suddenly snapped out of his daze, his feet moving almost on their own as he walked slowly toward you.

“Hey,” he said as he stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. He pushed down the jealousy bubbling inside him, forcing himself to focus on what mattered—you. His hands settled gently on your shoulders, and you looked up at him, your face lighting up immediately. 

“Hi, Spencer,” you said, your words slightly slurred but your smile wide and genuine. It was the kind of smile that made his stomach flip, even now, even in this situation. 

Spencer didn’t even glance at the guy you’d been talking to. His attention was entirely on you. He reached for the drink in your hand, carefully prying it from your fingers and setting it down on the bar counter.

“Let’s get you home,” he said softly, his voice laced with concern. His fingers brushed a strand of hair out of your face, the gesture tender.

You stared up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused but filled with affection. Then, as if remembering the other guy was still there, you turned your head toward him. “See? I told you how caring he is,” you said, your voice warm and slightly dreamy. 

The guy glanced at Spencer, his expression unreadable but clearly unimpressed. He seemed to realize the conversation was over. Without a word, he grabbed his drink and stood up before disappearing into the crowd. 

“Well, that was rude,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred as you leaned your head against Spencer’s chest. Your voice was muffled against his shirt, but he heard you clearly enough.

He glanced in the direction the guy had gone, his brow furrowing slightly.

“What were you talking about?” Spencer asked, his voice soft but curious. He gently cupped your cheeks with his hands, tilting your head up so he could get a good look at you. Your eyes were half-closed, your face relaxed and content, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his heart doing that strange little flip it always did when you looked at him like that. 

“You,” you mumbled, your lips curving into a small, sleepy smile. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing completely as you savored the warmth of his hands on your face. 

“Me?” Spencer repeated, his voice tinged with surprise. The puzzle pieces slowly started clicking together in his mind, but he wasn’t entirely sure what picture they were forming.

His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, his touch gentle but insistent, as he tried to keep you awake. 

“Yeah,” you said simply, not offering any more details. Your voice was soft, almost dreamy.

Your skin was warm under his fingertips, and for a moment, he just stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest. But before he could gather his thoughts, you continued. 

“I love you a lot,” you said, your voice soft but clear, despite the alcohol slurring your words. “I had to tell him.” Your eyes slowly fluttered open, meeting his as his fingers continued to trace gentle circles on your cheek.

A smile formed on his face, small but genuine, as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place. That look in your eyes earlier—the lovey-dovey, dreamy expression he’d mistaken for something else—it hadn’t been for the stranger at all.

It had been for him.

“I love you too,” he said finally, his voice soft. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

When he pulled back, his smile had widened, his eyes shining with something tender. “How about we get you home?” he asked, his tone gentle. 

“Your home?” you asked, your voice hopeful as you reached for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. 

“Sure, my home,” he said, his voice warm. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, holding it tighter as he led you out of the bar. The cool night air hit you both as you stepped outside.

You pressed yourself closer to him as he guided you toward the car. “You’re so tall,” you said, your voice tinged with awe as you tilted your head back to look up at him. 

Spencer just chuckled under his breath as he opened the passenger door for you.

“I told him that,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred as you reluctantly let go of his hand. You swayed slightly on your feet, but Spencer steadied you with a gentle hand on your arm. 

“Good,” Spencer murmured, his voice soft as he helped you into the car. He leaned in, buckling your seatbelt with careful precision, his fingers brushing against yours for just a moment. He closed the door carefully, making sure you were secure, before walking around the car and settling into the driver’s seat. 

As he turned the key in the ignition, the engine hummed to life, and Spencer couldn’t help himself.

“What else did you tell him?” he asked, his tone casual.

He knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of you talking about him to some stranger in a bar made his chest swell with pride.

“Well,” you said, drawing out the word as you thought for a second. The alcohol was definitely slowing you down, your thoughts coming out in a slow, dreamy stream. “I told him how smart you are. That you’re my genius boyfriend.” You mumbled the last word, your head leaning back against the seat as you stared out at the road ahead. 

Spencer’s lips curved into a small smile, his hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. He didn’t say anything, but the warmth in his chest grew, spreading through him like sunlight. 

“I also told him that you’re kind,” you continued, your voice soft but earnest. “Remember that one time—” You stopped abruptly, letting out a yawn that seemed to take over your entire body. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and Spencer glanced at you, his expression softening. 

“Oh, I forgot to say goodbye to Penelope,” you mumbled, your words trailing off as you seemed to forget the sentence you’d started.

“I’ll text her later that you’re with me,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he stopped at a red light. He glanced over at you, his expression softening as he took in the way you were leaning against the window, your eyes half-closed but still gazing out at the passing lights. 

The car was quiet for a moment, the hum of the engine filling the space.

But Spencer couldn’t help himself. “So, what else did you say?” he asked.

You thought for a moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you tried to piece together the conversation. “I told him how handsome you are,” you said finally, your voice soft but clear. “I don’t think he liked that.” You paused, your nose scrunching as you tried to remember. “I don’t even know why I was talking to him in the first place,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred. 

Spencer felt a pang of guilt, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. He should’ve been paying closer attention. He knew how drunk you were, and he’d let you wander off anyway.

But before he could say anything, you suddenly perked up, your eyes widening slightly. “Wait,” you said, your voice a little louder now. “I do remember.” The light turned green, and Spencer focused back on the road, though his attention was still mostly on you. “He was hitting on me,” you started, your tone matter-of-fact. “I think.” 

Spencer’s eyebrows shot up, his guilt worsening. “Really?” he asked, his voice tight with concern. He dared to glance at you, his eyes flickering away from the road for just a second. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded, your expression calm. “Yeah, he kind of backed off when I started talking about you,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know why. I think everyone should hear about you.” Your voice was warm.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said suddenly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. You were looking out the window now, your eyes wide as you took in the familiar sight of Spencer’s apartment building. 

“Yes, we are,” Spencer said, a small smile tugging at his lips as he pulled into the parking spot and turned off the engine.

He had heard enough, and he was happy—happier than he’d been in a while. The way you’d talked about him, the way you’d defended him without even realizing it, had filled him with a warmth and love.

He stepped out of the car, the cool night air hitting him as he rounded the vehicle to your side. Opening the door, he leaned in, his curls falling into his face as he carefully unbuckled your seatbelt. 

“I can do that myself, you know,” you mumbled, your words slightly slurred but your tone playful. You swatted at his hands half-heartedly, though you didn’t actually stop him. 

Spencer took a step back, holding out his hand to help you out of the car. “I know you can,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure you could in your current state, but he let you believe it anyway.

You took his hand, your fingers curling around his as you carefully slid out of the car. Your steps were unsteady, and you leaned heavily against him, your free hand gripping his arm for balance.

Spencer didn’t mind. In fact, he liked the way you clung to him, the way you trusted him to keep you upright. 

Twenty minutes later, you were tucked into Spencer’s bed.

Spencer had been patient and gentle, helping you remove your makeup with careful hands before handing you one of his oversized shirts to sleep in. You’d protested weakly, insisting you could do it yourself, but he’d just smiled and helped you anyway.

Now, lying in his bed, you felt drowsy but content, the alcohol still humming in your veins. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of sheets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

But something was missing. 

“Spencer,” you called out, your voice soft but tinged with a hint of whininess. “I can’t sleep without you.” Your eyes were already closed, your body heavy with exhaustion, but the bed still felt too big, too empty without him beside you. 

“I’m brushing my teeth,” Spencer called back from the bathroom, his voice muffled but warm. He’d already helped you with yours.

“Well, hurry,” you mumbled, your words barely audible. You weren’t even sure if he’d heard you, but a moment later, you heard the bathroom light click off, followed by the soft padding of his footsteps as he made his way to the bed. 

The mattress dipped slightly as Spencer climbed in beside you. You didn’t even open your eyes—you just instinctively shifted closer, your head finding its place on his chest. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you in, and you let out a contented sigh, your body finally relaxing completely. 

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the rhythm of Spencer’s heartbeat beneath your ear.

Then, his voice broke the quiet, “I love you,” he said quietly, “ A lot. More than you know.” 

You smiled faintly, your eyes still closed. “I love you too, Spencer,” you mumbled, your voice sleepy but sincere. Your hand found its way to his chest, your fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering for just a moment. “Good,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Now get some sleep.” 

You didn’t need to be told twice.

As you drifted off to sleep, Spencer stayed awake for a little while longer, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your back. He couldn’t help but smile, his chest warm with a quiet contentment.

He knew you were his, just as much as he was yours.

[aceattorneysquad]

"Say "hi" for me, OK? Oh, and "screw you". And tell him I want into that crime scene!" Daryan shouts.

"…Um, we'll be going now."

"Hey, wait. What do you all really think happened? Really? You don't think I did it, right?" He asked before Peko cleared her throat.

"You want their opinion? Then wait for the Trial's Continuation. Because until they gather more information You are still the prime suspect, got it...?

"Way to instill a guy with some confidence. Just remember, I was ripping it up on stage when it happened, OK? Ripping! Don't get led astray by some siren song, eh? Get this one wrong, and you'll be eating humble pie for a year. I'll bake it myself!"

"Threaten my friends again...See what happens..."

Apollo Justice & Hajime Hinata: Ultimate Attorneys

@aceattorneysquad

Phoenix Wright and Makoto Naegi, two defense attorneys that went from a pair of fledgling rookies to a legendary duo of lawyers that pretty much everyone in the world of law knew about like a household name. They have saved many innocent lives and brought near impossible truths to light while also putting the true culprits behind their cases to justice. They were said to be a beacon of hope in this age of the law. However, even the brightest beacons can dim and waver... Seven long years have passed since their last big case, and that case... was something nobody would forget... It was the catalyst for what many have called the dark age of the law... Trials were rigged in the favor of the true culprits, most judges were bribed or blackmailed to have them tip the scales in favor of their "benefactors" and even some lawyers grew corrupt and used illegal or forged evidence to win trials... Hope was something of a rarity nowadays... But despite this, there is a certain pair of rookies that just finished law school and were about to start their mission to rekindle the lost hope and bring true justice back to this dark age of the law. Our story begins with a trial that will kickstart their careers and reveal to them some... disheartening truths. The duo were in the courthouse, specifically the defendant lobby, trying to get ready for their first big trial. And boy, were they nervous...

"Apollo, I know you're nervous, believe me I am too, but could you please stop pacing like that? You're going to wear out your soles... Plus it's not exactly helping ease either of our worries..."

[daeniradraconis]

My Emergency Contact – William Nylander

Just a little short Valentine’s Day fluff—because nothing says romance like realizing your boyfriend is absolutely not qualified to be your emergency contact. (Yes, inspired by the TikTok trend!) BTW, this pic is literally my favourite of Willy. Like, sir—how are you this hot and this cute at the same time?! ---

Moving in together was supposed to be romantic. Cozy. A new chapter in your relationship.

Instead, you’re sitting on the couch in your new apartment, watching your shirtless boyfriend, William Nylander, struggle for his life against an IKEA bookshelf.

The shirtless part isn’t unusual. If anything, it’s his default state. The man has never met a fabric he liked.

And honestly? You’re not complaining.

His blond hair is tousled from running his hands through it in frustration, his cheeky grin flickering in and out as he mutters to himself in Swedish, clearly losing patience. His mustache and beard are in full force—an off-season indulgence, just like the sheer amount of cake he’s been consuming lately.

And it shows.

Willy is always strong, always an athlete, but off-season Willy? He’s soft. He still has muscle, but instead of his usual sculpted abs, there’s the faintest hint of a tummy, a little dad bod moment that somehow makes him look even hotter.

Unfortunately, all that raw, Swedish power is currently being humiliated by a simple bookshelf.

“IKEA is a scam,” Will mutters, glaring at the half-built monstrosity. “They make the instructions impossible on purpose.”

“You’re Swedish,” you remind him, sipping your coffee. “This should be, like, in your DNA.”

“Yeah, well, my ancestors built actual ships, not this bullshit.”

He picks up the hex key like it personally insulted his mother, then frowns down at the two pieces of wood he’s supposed to connect. His brows furrow, lips pressing together in deep concentration, and for a fleeting moment, you think—maybe—he’s finally figured it out.

But no. No, he has not.

With way too much confidence, he tightens one screw, nods to himself like a man who knows what he's doing, and then leans his full weight on the side panel—only for it to give out instantly, betraying him in the most dramatic fashion possible.

The entire bookshelf wobbles violently before crashing down in slow motion.

And so does Will.

You watch in horror as your six-foot, professional athlete boyfriend completely loses the battle. He stumbles backward, knocks into a chair, flails to catch himself—too late. His knee buckles, and before you can react, he fully wipes out.

A loud thud. A groan. Silence.

For a split second, your heart stops. You freeze, eyes wide, a sharp pang of panic in your chest. He’s completely motionless, just lying there, staring at the ceiling.

“Will?” you ask, rushing over, hovering a hand over his arm, not sure whether to touch him or call 911.

No response.

Then—he bursts out laughing.

Flat on his back, bare chest rising and falling with laughter, stomach shaking, cheeks flushed—he looks absurdly proud of himself. And you can’t help but laugh too—though only after you're sure he’s not actually injured.

And then it hits you. This man is your emergency contact.

The realization hits you slowly. This is the guy responsible for calling an ambulance if something happens to you. This one.

The same man who once set off the fire alarm trying to “improvise” a grilled cheese with a blowtorch because he thought it would be “faster.”

The same man who got his shoelace caught in an escalator last summer and had to be rescued by a mall employee.

The same man who confidently insisted he could fix a leaky faucet in your old apartment, only to somehow make it worse—so much worse—that you had to call an actual plumber, who took one look at the situation and just muttered, Jesus Christ.

You blink down at Will, still sprawled on the floor, grinning like an idiot, and a strange mix of affection, disbelief, and sheer terror floods through you.

You sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you are my emergency contact.”

You look at him, grinning up from the floor like he just won a prize, and a mix of affection, disbelief, and helpless laughter washes over you.

Will, still sprawled out, turns his head to smirk at you. “Baby. I got you.”

“You just lost a fight to plywood.”

“It was a close fight.”

“In your dreams.”

He just shrugs, completely unbothered, propping himself up on one elbow. “Eh. I’m strong. I can take it.”

You stare at him, still processing the absolute chaos of it all. The lack of concern.

Will sees your expression and smirks, sitting up fully. “You’re thinking about it, huh?”

“I’m regretting it.”

He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Wow. That’s ruthless.”

“Honest.”

Will squints, then rubs the back of his head. “Maybe. But too late, baby. We live together now. No take-backs.”

You roll your eyes, standing up to help his dumb ass off the floor. He lets you pull him to his feet, then immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“Will—”

“Shhh,” he says, resting his chin on top of your head. “Let me hold you. I almost died, älskling.”

You snort. “You did not.”

He squeezes you tighter, grinning against your hair. “You were so worried about me.”

You groan, but his arms feel nice, and he smells like cedarwood and the vanilla latte he stole from you earlier. Despite everything—despite his complete incompetence at building furniture or being careful at all—you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You sigh into his chest. “Yeah. You are sometimes actually terrifying. You clumsy idiot.”

Willy laughs, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Terrifyingly sexy, you mean.”

Well, he’s not wrong.

[sidekick-hero]

“You think I should bring some roses to the date?”

Steve looks beautiful in his moss-green button-up, and Eddie wants to scream into a pillow. Not just because he can correctly name the color of Steve’s clothes now, but because the man he’s been crushing on for months is about to go on a date with someone who isn’t him.

And of course, it has to be today. Valentine’s Day.

Steve’s first date since Nancy, his long-time girlfriend, broke up with him. Eddie had wanted to wait before asking him out himself—afraid it was too soon, that Steve was still hurting. That he’d be the rebound at best.

And now, Steve was going out with Spencer. On Valentine’s Day.

God, he hates everything about it. But he loves Steve, more than he’s in love with him. So—

“He’s not going to know what hit him when he sees you, Stevie. You don’t need flowers when he won’t be able to look at anything but you.”

The brilliant, sunshine smile Eddie gets in return is worth the aching in his heart.

“Thanks, Eds. I’d better get going, don’t wanna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow—if everything goes like I planned.” Steve winks, all confidence and charm, and Eddie swallows around the lump in his throat. He’s glad to see Steve like this again. He just wishes it was for him, not some random guy who doesn’t even know that Steve always leaves a tiny sip in all his cups and glasses.

He forces himself to wish Steve fun and good luck. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, he calls Robin.

“Uggghhhhh,” he groans into the phone as soon as she picks up.

Robin, the traitor, laughs. “Get a grip, Bambi. I already told you—man up and tell Steve how you feel. Stop whining at me.”

“You’re mean.”

“And you’re pathetic. Seriously, why can’t you just tell him? You’ve been head-over-heels for him since the day I met you.”

Eddie groans again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Because I love him, Robs. I want him to be happy.”

Robin’s voice softens. “You make him happy, you idiot. You always have. I was really worried about him after Nancy, but you pulled him out of his slump. The first time he smiled again after the breakup? That was because of you.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, because honestly, what’s there to say to that?

Robin sighs. “Just think about it, Eddie. We both love him. We both want him to be happy. I believe you can make that happen. Do you?”

After they hang up, Eddie sits in silence, Robin’s words echoing in his head. We both love him. We both want him to be happy.

Was she right? Could he make Steve happy?

No. No, he can’t. Eddie’s never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks. And Steve deserves better. He deserves someone worthy of the wonderful man he is. Someone who loves him loudly, carries him on their hands. Someone who knows Steve hates his birthday because he was always alone on them as a kid. Someone who doesn’t just tolerate his weird habits but loves them, because they make him Steve.

Steve deserves someone who isn’t afraid of commitment. Someone successful and put-together. Not a guy who still lives with two roommates, slings drinks at a bar, and clings to the dream that his band might one day make it.

The beeping of his phone startles him out of his thoughts. He sighs, expecting Robin, but—

It’s Steve.

Spencer’s still not here. You think he stood me up?

Eddie’s entire body tenses. That stupid son of a bitch.

If he did, he’s even stupider than his name. He types while yanking open his closet, grabbing for the one good shirt he owns. You want me to come get you?

The three dots appear. Disappear. Reappear.

Fine. That’s fine. It gives Eddie time to throw the shirt on, shove his feet into his boots, and grab his keys.

Finally, Steve’s reply pops up.

No, it’s fine. I’ll wait some more. You know how traffic can be.

Eddie clenches his jaw. He can practically hear Steve making excuses, trying to be understanding. Trying to believe in someone who doesn’t deserve it.

Screw this.

Eddie doesn’t think. He just moves.

Keys in hand, he’s already out the door.

Good thing he knows what fancy restaurant Steve wanted to take his date to. If it were him, he'd take Steve to their favorite Italian restaurant, the one with the handmade pasta and the handmade tiramisu.

Maybe they can still go there.

The second Eddie pushes through the restaurant doors, his eyes land on Steve immediately.

He’s sitting at a small table by the window, drumming his fingers against the stem of his untouched water glass, his lips pressed into a tight line. His date is nowhere to be seen.

Eddie strides over like he should be here—because, honestly? He does.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, dropping into the chair across from Steve like this is their date. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic, you know how it is.”

Steve startles, blinking up at him. “What—Eddie? What are you—?”

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Eddie lies easily, tossing his keys onto the table. “Figured you were either kidnapped or too nice to walk out on that douchebag, so here I am. Your knight in shining leather.”

Steve huffs a laugh, shaking his head, but there’s something soft in his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you look way too good to be sitting here alone.” Eddie leans back, eyes sweeping over him, exaggerating his admiration. “I mean, damn, Stevie. If I’d known you’d clean up this nice, I would’ve asked you out ages ago.”

He means it as a joke. Mostly. But something shifts in Steve’s expression—his fingers tightening slightly around the glass, his smile faltering just a little.

“…You’re serious.”

Eddie swallows. Shrugs. “I mean… yeah?”

Steve exhales sharply, shaking his head again, but this time, he’s smiling. A real one. One that makes Eddie’s chest feel too tight.

“You’re unbelievable,” Steve mutters, reaching for his jacket. “Come on, if you’re crashing my Valentine’s Day, you’re at least buying me dinner. At our restaurant.”

Eddie grins, hopping to his feet. “Now we’re talking. Babe, you know I’m the cheapest date in town.”

Steve snorts, bumping their shoulders as they head for the door. And yeah, okay—maybe Robin was right.

Because Steve looks happy. And Eddie could get used to that.

[alalalalaalalalviraaaaa]

summary: valentine's day? this is nerdjo's perfect chance! pt.1

song list: (hella short cuz this is short)

espresso- sabrina carpenter

obsessed- mariah carey

kiss it better- rihanna

"i-i... well um, i think you're uhh, very... pretty... and i um, you'r-"

"so you mean i'm hot and you can't stop staring?" you say in a judgy voice, unable to comprehend what's going on— or 'flabbergasted' as what the dumbass in front of you calls it. "listen up, nerd: i know i'm a looker, and i don't need someone like you to remind me of that, mmkay? so scram." you say, pushing past like what? the 13th dumbass? and you're not even two hours in.

you look to your side, just to be met by satoru, a loyal puppy. even though he was the smartest, he did your homework for free, unlike the other nerds who'd grown some balls thinking they had a chance with you— except for the chance to finish your essays.

pretty face adorned with baby blue eyes, satoru wasn't that ugly. in fact, he wasn't ugly at all. just that... he was a nerd. with nerdy glasses, nerdy clothes, and thick, nerdy books in his hands 24/7. flustered, stuttering mess. hey, but he looks so cute wrapped around your finger, ain't that right?

"well," he chuckles and pushes his glasses up with an index. damn, 5 inch fingers? what about his co- "you're getting a lot of confessions, huh?" he shakes his head head slightly and walks alongside you.

"mhm... it's exhausting." you say tiredly, with a hint of smug in your voice. "oh, and did you finish my assignment? need to hand it over next period." you inquire, expecting the work. satoru was never late to anything. punctual, perfect, and what not? would be your mom's dream if you brought him home.

"oh, yeah! i did it for you, and i guarantee you'll get an A!" he says proudly, looking over at you.

"uhh.. okay, now hand it over?" you say with a bit of attitude, your hand open as you observe him scrambling for it in some bag. "here! here is it!" he hands it to you like some sacred treasure. you look at the paper, looking at what he wrote before you catch a glimpse of red and some scrunching of wrappers as he zips the bag up. your eyebrows furrow as realise what it is. roses. and chocolates. who the fuck is he giving that to?

"what's that?" you ask sternly, looking up at him, the assignment completely forgotten. "the thing in your bag. who's that for, huh?" you push him against a wall, quickly pinning him.

"w-what do you mean? i-i don't know what yo-"

"the roses. and chocolates. in your bag right now, who's that for, eh? some other nerdy slut? that blondie cheerleader? psst- she won't accept it, cut it out. no one would." you say harshly, not a single bit jealous. scoff, you've never been jealous in your life.

a flicker of emotions flash by his face and then it settles to a one of annoyance.

"not even you?" he says, a hint of smugness in his face.

"what?" you say, now truly 'flabbergasted'. what does he mean by that? there's no way he's...

"well, since no one would accept me... i guess you won't get those." he signals to the bag with his eyes and looks back into your eyes deeply. a full blown smirk adorns his face, the 'next period' completely out of mind.

"wait, i didn't mean that, come on!" you retorted. how could he speak to you like that? you were the famous y/n, who would not confess to you? you take the roses and chocolates out of his bag, and shove it into his hands. "now do it, properly. say how much you love me and what you find hot about me."

"i know you have guys all over you all the time, but they're all just desperate and weak. i ain't like them. i'm confident and i know what i want. and what i want is you. you're absolutely hot, and nobody else is gonna have you. so yeah, i want you, and i'm not takin' no for an answer."

lips crash and feelings form, you taking the first move. tongues moving and doing more to express more than words. you both knew you both wanted this. he switches positions and puts a leg in between yours, making it unable for you to escape. his thigh rubs against yours and he gropes you, out in the hallway, where anyone could see. but no one was around, and that was all that mattered (you as well). he breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

"y/n, please... i need you so much right now."

pt.2

[clovdgyu]

#rafayel x m!reader #smut, fluff #the new lds memories seriously has me in a chokehold. so i made this

#hard and vanilla sex, friends to lovers trope, rafayel is possessed by an incubus, unprotected sex, creampie, rafayel moans a lot, lore-wise rafayel which means he has two dicks (i mean he's a lemurian and a mermaid so...), i'd like to think ebb day is when rafayel becomes in heat lol, foreplay, some mild choking, rafayel's scales hehe, pet names, a bit of blackmail and manipulation, some kind of DUBCON, overstimulation, double penetration, cockdrunk reader, belly bulge

your eyes turned to look at the other male who suddenly dropped down to the floor, placing a hand on his head as he held onto the chair for support. "rafayel! are you okay?" you asked the other male who was whining at the pain.

you looked at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. you hummed in panic, thinking of a solution before deciding to get him a glass of water. "fuck. you should've told me you needed to go to the ocean or whatever. let me start a bath for you."

just as you were about to give it to him, the moment you turned around, you were surprised when you saw him just looking down at you. in your shock, you accidentally dropped the cup and spilled the water.

"rafayel? are you finally doing okay? sit down," you told him, guiding him towards the sofa but was stopped when he held onto your arm and pulled you towards him. "wh--raf? what is this?"

the purple-haired male smirked and looked into your eyes, using his other hand to trace along the line of your lips. "hm? and who do we have here? can i have the honor in knowing your name, pretty boy?"

the confusion was evident in your eyes as you tilted your head to the side, thinking the other male was just making fun of you. "what the hell? cut this out, rafayel. it's me, m/n," you answered, looking up at the other male. "what is with this strength? were lemurians usually this strong?"

a curious and mischievous glint in his eyes made you gulp. "m/n, huh? you must be the guy he—" all of a sudden, he slapped himself which surprised you, "--you goddamn psycho, get out of my body!"

what the hell is going on? you thought to yourself as you looked at the other male who was...talking to himself? slapping his face over and over until his cheeks were red. deciding to end this madness, you shouted, "stop! can you just tell me what the hell is going on here? and why are you hurting yourself?"

rafayel let out heavy breaths as he looked at you before removing his arms from you and moved towards the sofa which made you follow him unconsciously. as you two sat down, he began to talk, "i am an incubus."

you let out a scoff. "uh huh, yeah. and i'm thomas. now stop with this pranks," you said. you were just about to move away but realized you weren't able to move. "what-"

"i'm serious. i indulge in the desires and pleasures of any men i see and unfortunately, this man has suppressed feelings," he stated, pointing at himself then smirked as if to say he was confident with something. "which is why i will help him."

"help him? why?" you asked him, confused.

the incubus (in rafayel's form) let out a sigh as he crossed his legs. "because he's currently in the verge of death. if he gets no action tomorrow, he's bound to die," he told you, making you confused yet again.

he pointed towards the calendar and saw that the next day was encircled red. that's when it hits you. "ah...it's ebb day. but he's always survived on his own. was it actually killing him? i never knew," you asked him.

his demeanor changed yet again before he shook his head and looked at you with a frown. "m/n, don't believe a word this demon says. i will be fine."

"fine, my ass! you'll die for fuck's sake. now, m/n, you wouldn't want that, won't you?" the demon told you, looking at you expectantly. it was obvious you were debating, looking at how you nibbled on your lip and eyes were practically quivering.

you let out a sigh before nodding. "alright. i'll help him."

the next day, as you expected, rafayel was heating up and you were there to help him. "wh-what the fuck, dude? this hurts as fuck," the incubus stuttered as he held onto his stomach.

you were already in your robes, ready to give yourself to your lemurian friend. "rafayel, i'm ready," you told him, the other male looking at you with hazy eyes as he sat up weakly.

you got on the bed and crawled yourself towards him, straddling him as you place your hands on his shoulders, blushing. "j-just so you know, this will only happen every ebb day a-and...this is my first time. i've never been on the receiving end."

a simple hum was heard from the other male before he moved to lean his head onto you neck, taking in your sweet scent, placing small kisses as he moved along your neck. you covered your mouth with one hand, stifling your moans.

"don't stop yourself from letting out those sounds, sweetie. i want to hear you," the incubus stated as he pulled you closer towards him, slowly grinding his erect dick onto your--wait, why were you feeling two dicks?

"what's..." you voiced out, pulling back before looking down at him.

he let out a deep chuckle as he looked up at you. "guess he has two dicks. didn't quite expect that as well," he stated before going back to your neck. "you smell so fucking good."

you were just about to protest but then you felt his hand adjust your robe to get your leaking cock out and began jerking you off. "w-wait, i haven't touched myself in a while. i-i might cum easily," you told him, but he didn't do anything, instead he continued his assault on your neck.

he jerked you off as he moved to the other side of your neck, placing love bites and hickeys as he did. "r-rafayel," you called out to him, hands latching onto the other male's hair. "i-if you keep doing that, i-i might--"

"you can cum as much as you like."

rafayel's voice near your ears was like hearing the symphony of the angels, quite ironic. "oh god," you let out, pulling him closer as you began to buck your hips, fucking yourself into his hand.

he let out an amused chuckle as he jerked you off in rhythm, trying to make you cum. "what a needy bitch. do you really want to cum that badly, huh?" he stated, using his thumb to tease the head of your cock that was already leaking pre-cum.

your moans began to grow louder. getting conscious of it, you buried yourself in the other male's neck as you stifled your moans, biting on your bottom lip.

"what did i tell you, hon?" he stated, stopping his movements as he looked at you, earning him a whine from you.

"wh-why'd you stop? i was just about to cum," you complained, brows furrowed as you looked down at him.

the purple-haired male only chuckled as he grinned, placing a kiss on your cheek before he whispered, "just let those pretty moans out, baby boy. it'd feel better that way, trust me."

then, he began to jerk you off once again. his hand was so big that it practically engulfed your whole cock and it made you feel so good. your toes curled at the pleasure as the once denied climax began to crash into you again. "ah fuck! oh my--rafayel, i'm gonna cum."

the man nodded as he placed kisses all over your neck, licking and biting as his hand began to jerk you off faster. "cum for me, m/n. do it."

and just like that, you let out a pleasured cry as you threw your head back, cumming on the other man's hand and splattering some on his toned stomach. "a-ah! cumming..!"

rafayel continued to jerk you off, slowing down once you came down from your high. "that felt good now, did it?" he asked you which you answered with a nod. he let out a chuckle before he let out a pained whine.

"r-rafayel? are you okay?" you asked him.

and then all of a sudden you found yourself beneath him, pinned down on his king-size bed. the usual soft and calm look on rafayel's eyes were replaced with something else. as if he has finally snapped and had enough. "fuck, you're just too sexy."

all you could do was stare up at the other male as he stared down at you, wanting to devour you right then and there. "a-are we...gonna do it?"

cute. rafayel thought as he roamed his eyes around your body, undoing the robe's belt and finally seeing you in your naked glory. "shit. so delectable," he murmured to himself before leaning down, latching his lips onto your nipples.

the suddenness made you flinch (in a good way), placing your hands onto his hair. "th-that tickles—ah! w-wait," you cried out. rafayel, wanting to hear more of you, began to jerk you off once again as he prodded his middle finger against your hole, using your own cum as lube. "no! r-rafayel, i just came!"

"i know you can still cum for me, sweetie. i need to get you ready for my cocks," he said before taking your nipples into his mouth again, licking and biting before moving to the other.

the pleasure was too much for you to handle, it was far too overwhelming. not a second later, the other male inserted his finger inside your hole which made you yelp. "relax, m/n."

you followed his instructions, but all you could focus on was rafayel's mouth on your nipples and his hand that was jerking your hard cock. "r-rafayel. oh fuck," you moaned out, pulling on his hair as he gave you the pleasure you needed.

it took you a moment before you realized that scales were showing on his body. you touched them unconsciously, earning you a hiss. that made you flinch before looking up at him, eyes teary and hazy. "you're seriously turning me on. no wonder this man likes you a lot."

what?

you weren't even given a second to ponder what he just said as he finally entered a second finger, his fingers pistoning inside your hole, preparing you for his big cocks.

rafayel's lips moved up, towards your collarbone, towards your neck then back down onto your chest. he knew how to make you feel so good. as he continued his assault on your nipples and his hand on your cock, he continued to finger your ass.

your moans began to grow louder in volume. "rafayel, it feels—agh!" you let out a yelp, clenching onto the purple-haired male's fingers as he hit a certain spot inside you. "th-that felt strange."

the lemurian smirked as he used his tongue to flick your nipples over and over, the ticklish yet pleasurable feeling making you moan louder. "this?" he asked you before pressing on that same spot again.

this made you throw your head back, a strangled moan escaping your lips as your eyes practically twitched. "quit it! p-pressing on it...ah!"

rafayel heeded no mind to your protests as he pressed onto your prostate ever now and then. he inserted another finger whoch makes it three. he hummed, "you're taking my fingers quite well, m/n. am i making you feel good?"

the question made your mind go haywire as you tried to answer, but all you could do was nod. his fingers were quite long and it could reach the perfect spots inside you which drove you crazy. "use your big boy words, hon."

damn, how can someone be so alluringly sexy yet soft at the same time. you gulped, "y-yes. it feels good."

"that's good to hear," he stated before he began to finger your hole faster, making your toes curl in pleasure. the pleasure on your nipples, cock, and ass was all too overwhelming.

your moans became ragged as you neared your climax. but just as you were about to cum, rafayel stopped whatever he was doing and pulled away, smirking. a whine escaped your lips as you looked at him, watery eyes and cheeks warm. "why do you keep stopping when i'm about to cum."

"cause it's fun tormenting you. and you would probably be asleep by the time we're done here since you're tired," he stated, but you just glared at him.

the other male placed his hands beside your head, looking down at you. "i guess you're finally ready," rafayel stated as he leaned back, using one hand to jerk his two dicks. the size alone was enough to scare you.

"th-that's going inside me? that'll never fit, rafayel. it's too big," you tried to reason with him, hut all he did was growl as he rolled his eyes. "did you just roll your eyes at me?"

he just hummed as he lined his cock towards your hole yet you kept pulling away. fed up, he growled and placed a hand on your neck, choking you. "do you want him to die or not?" he asked.

you shook your head in response. "no...i can't do that," you answered, but sighed as you looked up at him. "fine, just do it slowly."

the other male let out a whispered 'good' before he held onto his cock, slowly entering. you were just about to tell him something but he suddenly inserted his whole cock in. this made your cry out in pleasure, cumming on the spot at how his cock brushed against your prostate.

"fuck! relax, sweetie. you're gonna snap my dick off," he stated, basking in the pleasure of seeing you make a mess of yourself, blabbering and all as you threw your head back, gripping the sheets tightly as your curled your toes and arched your body.

rafayel's eyes turned manic as he placed his hands on your hips, groaning at your tight heat. "shit, you feel so good, m/n," he said as he thrusted inside you harshly, wanting to see you writhe and quiver in pleasure.

the other male leaned down towards you, placing hickeys and love bites on your neck. you let out loud moans which rafayel loved. you placed your hands onto his back, scratching it out of pleasure, eyes rolling back.

"oh, fuck! your ass feels so fucking good, babe. taking me so well," he stated out as he threw his head back, fucking you with no remorse. you buried your nose into his neck, trying to bite back your moans as you engulfed the man in your embrace.

this obviously annoyed the other male as he placed a hand under your chin, making you face him. "what did tell you about holding in your moans, babe? i want to hear you."

"i-it's embarrassing," you answered him, feeling your cheeks warm up.

the man chuckled, amused. "i like hearing them, m/n. moan for me, please?" rafayel pleaded, placing his hands back onto your hips as he began to fuck you once again.

you nodded at him, but still stifled your moans. wanting to hear more of you, he began to jerk you off and he thinks you liked being jerked off cause the moment he did, you began to whimper and moan so loudly. "yes, just like that, baby. let those pretty noises out."

his thrusts gradually increased in speed, placing his arms by the pit of your leg, pushing them towards you into a mating press. "fuck, you feel so good, m/n. i've wanted this for so long. shit, ah."

rafayel's voice became louder as he pistoned his cock inside you, reaching deep inside you with every thrust. his cock consistently brushed against your prostate perfectly, not failing to make you moan every time he pushed his hips towards you.

the sound of your skins slapping against each other reverberated throughout his whole bedroom, your cries and his moans filled the entire area as well. you could practically hear the squelching sound your hole produced every time he thrusted hard inside you.

rafayel leaned down, placing his forehead against yours before placing his lips on yours. you weren't new to kissing but this obviously shocked you. nevertheless, you responded to his kiss as you pulled him closer towards you.

the other male grinned mischievously as he stuck his tongue inside your mouth, exploring the wet cavern. rafayel swallowed your pleasured moans, groaning as he sucked on your tongue, swirling his own wet muscle with it.

his hands moved towards your chest, playing with your erect nipples, making you cry out, gripping hard onto his hair as he played with them, flicking and twisting them.

"fuck," he cursed out as he removed his lips on yours, some saliva dripping down from your lips at the heated makeout session. you wondered why he stopped but you were rid of your questions once you noticed how he let go of your legs and changed your positions without pulling out.

your back was now turned towards him and now you were on all fours. rafayel chuckled as he landed a slap on your ass, liking the way it jiggled. "so fucking hot," he stated as he began moving again, using one hand to hold onto your hip. "you ready for cock number two, sweetie?" he asked.

you didn't know what to answer since you were already to drunk on his cock to even think about anything, blabbering nonsense and something about 'cumming'. taking that as a yes, he lined his second cock against your hole as he stopped moving before pushing all the way in.

the sudden intrusion made you cry out in pleasure as you threw your head back, cumming yet again for the third time that day. "n-no..wh-why...hurts.." you muttered out as your arms gave out, involuntarily sticking your ass up towards him.

"it'll feel good in a moment. okay, m/n?" rafayel assured you as he sheathed his cocks inside your stretched hole. he let out a breathy moan as he threw his head back, feeling even better now that both his cocks were inside your warm hole. "hah, you feel so fucking good, baby."

you adjusted to his cock as you fisted on the sheets. not a while later, he began to pummel your ass needily, moaning out as his cheeks were now tinted in red. "g-good...ah.." you moaned out.

suddenly, rafayel leaned his body down towards you, placing an arm around your neck before pulling you up with him. the position made rafayel's cock reach deeper inside you which got you a moaning mess, throwing your head back as you clenched your fists.

“m-my stomach, no…!” you cried out as the other male reached out a hand and pressed against the bulge on your stomach, pressing down which got you cumming again. “n-no more…fuck! i c-cant cum anymore,” you said, but it was as if he was drunk in pleasure and paid no attention to your protests.

instead, he turned your head and kissed you, choking you with his strong arm while using the other one to keep you both steady. your sweaty bodies mingled with each other, the pleasure making your eyes roll and your cock twitch back to life. you were already too tired at this point.

rafayel's thrusts grew faster and harder, moans getting louder as he held you closer, as if wanting to fuse his body with you. the scales that appeared on his body grew in number as he felt his own climax come to him. “fuck, i'm about to cum, m/n. can I cum inside you, baby? please?” he said, hugging you tightly as he placed soft kisses down on your shoulders.

as you were nearing your own release again, rafayel jerked you once again so you two could cum together. this made you cry out as tears finally dripped down from your eyes at the overstimulation. “rafayel!” you moaned out his name, holding onto his biceps that was around your neck.

rafayel nodded as he gritted his teeth, veins pulsating as he thrusted faster and harder inside you, hitting your prostate spot-on, jerking your cock off in the same rhythm. “cum for me, m/n. fuck, m/n. i'm cumming!”

“m-me too,” you announced, turning your head to kiss the other male who was already waiting for your lips. then your lips parted as you both chased your climax.

with one final thrust, rafayel came inside of you, biting down on your shoulder while you squirted all over the white sheets. “t-tired..” was all you could mutter as you fell asleep in the other male's embrace.

“i hope he's fine. i think i overdid it,” you heard someone say then a rather deeper voice was heard as well.

“well, when are you planning to tell him about this whole shenanigans?” the other male asked as he looked at your state.

rafayel bit his lip out of guilt before he sighed and looked at the demon. “the moment he wakes up, i will tell him everything.”

“tell me what?”

your voice made the two scream out in surprise, looking at each other then back at you. they watched as you blinked your eyes open, then sat up, using your hand to rub your eyes awake. “rafayel? who is he?” you asked, once you finally saw the stranger beside him.

“the demon that possessed him. nice to meetcha. i'll be on my way then, tata!” the incubus stated before he disappeared, leaving you and rafayel alone together.

the purple-haired male turned to look at you and held your hands, checking on your stature first. “are you alright? nothing hurts, does it? i got a bit carried away, sorry,” he asked.

“i'm fine, rafayel. it felt good honestly and thanks for cleaning me up. i got too tired and passed out. if anything I should be the one asking you if you're alright,” you stated, a smile on your lips as you adjusted the blanket draped on you.

rafayel mentally prepared himself before finally blurting out his feelings towards you, not wanting to regret not telling you. “i like you, m/n. ever since we met back then. it was love at first sight and I just couldn't let go of you, I needed you,” he started.

"i wanted to treasure you and the moment i found out you were into men, i got so hyped up. i decided to make you my best friend slash bodyguard. but along with it, my feelings grew stronger. to the point where i wanted to defile your body."

he looked into your eyes, fearing that you'd hate him once you finally found put the truth. "i could never bring myself to do that, and so, i decided to summon an incubus to help me get the courage i needed to touch you. i'm sorry."

once he was done, you let out a laugh before looking at him, wiping a stray tear away. "you mean you were holding back? damn, you liked me that much? you're seriously cute and funny."

"what? no violent reactions?"rafayel asked, confused. but all he heard from you was a simple 'nope'. "shouldn't you be mad at me?"

you smiled. "if you knew i was into, why haven't you asked me out yet?"

"i didn't know if i was your type. what if i--"

"dude! you're a famous painter, tall, handsome, has constant moodswings, and did i mention your two dicks? who wouldn't want you, rafayel?" you stated, making the man in front of you blush, embarrassed. "so, when are you gonna ask me out?"

"will you really go out with me?" rafayel asked shyly.

you scoffed at him hitting his shoulder. "stop acting so coy. as if you haven't rearranged my guts earlier. now why don't we get breakfast, hm?" rafayel smiled before letting out a chuckle. "you're right. let's."

[chaot1c0]

valentine's day w/ hsr men <3

I have never celebrated valentine's day with anyone so if I seem lost then that's why ..

sunday -

for sure would be a HUGE perfectionist when planning it all

has to make sure every detail is perfect, and if not, he will freak out

asks the astral express members for help but if it's pre-charmony festival, he'll ask robin for help [ I know FOR SURE he'd bother robin with every little detail .. ]

makes sure to get you whatever you like as a gift, and your favorite flowers with roses

settles for chocolate, but not just any chocolate, expensive chocolate that you like

has been planning for weeks or maybe even months ahead [ he just likes to be super accurate .. ]

even subtly gets information out of you for what you'd like

if he notices you staring at something/taking an interest in something, he'll buy that as a gift secretly

would keep his eyes on you the whole day

"..what's with the stares?"

"nothing, just keep looking pretty, angel."

probably takes you sightseeing or out on a walk, then dinner at a restaurant, and ending with a movie

definitely holds your hand and keeps you next to him the whole day and is more affectionate than usual

jing yuan -

despite it seeming that he hasn't planned anything, he actually has some stuff prepared

he'd just prefer to spend the morning in your arms, is all

skips on work just to have you all to himself the whole day

gets you a huge bouquet of roses and obviously chocolates, with jewelry and a teddy bear

takes you out for lunch and then more cuddles later while watching a movie

if you insist or suggest on doing something, though, he will comply

a little more teasing the entire day, more than usual

definitely takes the day as an excuse to be extra clingy and more affectionate

"what? can't I treat my spouse/lover the way they deserve to be treated?"

allows yanqing steal you away from him for a bit if you insist on seeing the boy [ he pouts and sulks because your attention isn't on him anymore ]

ALWAYS has you in his arms at every given opportunity

"I don't want to lose you, love."

obviously a gentleman the entire day [ even more so than usual, actually ]

dan heng -

from the moment he started liking you the astral express knew about his obvious soft spot for you ..

it's STILL obvious TO THIS DAY.

makes sure your gift is suitable to give to you, even goes so far as asking stelle and march 7th for help

it's safe to say they spent a lot of time considering the perfect gift ..

still gets a bit flustered but otherwise confident [ the back of his neck is red when he's affectionate with you ]

buys you whatever you like along with some flowers for your gift

has march 7th, himeko, welt, and stelle suggest ideas on where to take you

..all their ideas clash with each other and so he ultimately decides to ditch it and instead collect information on what you'd like to do

more pda than normal because if that's what makes you happy, he'll gladly do it

very, very, very, very, and I mean VERY polite the entire day

"happy valentine's day."

aventurine -

it's pretty obvious that he'd go all out and spend a lot of money for you [ does that on a daily basis, actually ]

he'd be extra grand when it's valentine's day

expensive chocolates, expensive flowers, expensive gifts, and takes you out to expensive places

has a hugeeeee bouquet of flowers prepared, with a basket full of chocolates and every item your eyes have lingered on for longer than usual the past week

you guys probably won't be back home till late because he's been spoiling you rotten [ when does he not spoil you .. ]

he'll take you shopping and only buy stuff for you and not him, and when you insist that he should buy something he refuses

"just let me buy you whatever you want, okay?"

if anyone dares to give you a bad time on valentine's day, he'll be even more aggressive, but it'd be masked behind that smug facade of his of course

when you guys do come home, he'll be cuddling you the whole night

very affectionate and very flirty the whole day

veritas ratio -

has absolutely zero idea on how to be romantic, so of course he does some research on it

has prepared ahead of time to know how lovers act on valentine's day

takes you out on a date at a fancy restaurant and makes sure you're comfortable with it

is a huge gentleman the whole day

goes old fashioned and gets you a bouquet of flowers and a simple box of chocolates

also makes a statue of you two together and presents it to you proudly

a lot more pda and affectionate since it is valentine's day after all

he has no idea how to be romantic, so if he messes up and embarrasses himself, then that's why

if he does, he will become flustered and his face will be all red

has no problem with just holding you in his arms the entire day instead of going out

I personally feel like he would take you dancing, just for the sake of it

and if you don't know, he'll be more than happy to teach you.

"follow my steps, dear. you'll be fine."

ever since he started dating you, he's been more polite to you, and there's always a softer look in his eyes

there's no difference on valentine's day, either.

he admires you all day with that tenderness in his eyes and instead of insulting you, he compliments you [ his compliments are shown in a rather interesting way, but it's the thought that counts ]

gallagher -

just like jing yuan, he prefers to spend the morning sleeping in with you

also very clingy the entire day

definitely kisses you a lot, too, even if it's for simple things

gets you flowers and anything you'd like

takes you drinking later on in the night to make sure you have fun but doesn't let you get very drunk and looks after you

"how about I make a drink for you, that sound good?"

very loving and affectionate, even more so than usual

always has a hand on your waist or is holding your hand the entire day

sort of like a guard dog, always making sure that no harm comes your way and that you're safe

caelus -

cracks jokes the entire day and tries flirting [ ends up embarrassing himself instead ..]

gets you a stuffed animal and some chocolates and then drags you to the arcade to win you more items

ends up carrying huge plushies for you on the way home

will later take you to see a movie if you're up for it, of course

decorates your shared living space with roses and valentine's day decorations the night before so that when you wake up, you wake up to a surprise

so much pda and kisses, takes this opportunity to be more loving with you

half of the time he's staring at you with a lovesick expression that makes you laugh

when you mention it to him, he gets all flustered

"..what? no- I wasn't staring at you! you're just.. imagining things. yeah."

overall, he's just making sure you enjoy your day and that you're having fun

argenti -

the first thing you see when you wake up is a huge bouquet filled with roses and a note that says, 'happy valentine's day, my rose!'

there's also 5 boxes of chocolates stacked neatly next to it and an adorable stuffed animal holding a heart

he also went through the trouble of decorating your room to fill it with roses

will already be making you breakfast by the time you're up, and it's your favorite food to eat for breakfast

very affectionate and loving, as usual

also compliments you more than he usually does

firmly a gentleman when you two go out for dinner later on in the day and always makes sure you're safe

when you two return home, he lights all the candles he set up earlier and turns off the lights to make everything look lovely

holds you in his arms as he declares his love for you over and over again, making sure you have at least a small grasp of how much he loves you

also combs through your hair gently as he holds you

if you end up falling asleep, he'll carry you back to bed, put out the candles, and fall asleep with you

gepard -

very nervous about the whole day, does not want anything to go wrong

buys you your favorite flowers along with some other gifts

obviously had to ask serval in advance for some advice on what to do

absolutely showers you with affection all day, from the moment you wake up

takes you out on a walk, holding your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours

decides not to go anywhere and just relax indoors with you the entire day since he wants this day to be between only you and him

tries flirting for a change [ serval's idea ], instead flusters himself in return ..

has you laughing at him but at least he can see you happy

tries his very best to make the day a memorable one since he knows how much you mean to him and how much he loves you

blade -

usually not very romantic and doesn't show affection often

however, just for the occasion [ kafka and silver wolf educated him on valentine's day ], he'll make an effort to be affectionate around you

will take you out on a date somewhere but when you ask or tease him about it, he'll stay silent with a slightly noticeable blush

also will get you flowers and try to smile at you

"..these are for you."

when you both are standing somewhere, looking at the nighttime view, he'll turn to stare at you with the faintest smile

if you catch him staring, he'll hurriedly look away before his gaze returns to you, his cheeks pink

buys you all sorts of gifts and what-not

keeps you close to him at all times and is very protective of you

will let you walk on the sidewalk and he'll take the road for you

when you guys get home he'll let you run your fingers through his hair as you talk to him and he'll make an effort to respond

boothill -

jokingly wakes you up with a grin and a rose in his mouth

"g'morning, sugar."

presents you with a bouquet and chocolate with that sharp-toothed grin of his

as usual, his eyes are filled with warmth as he watches you read- or try to read- his hand-written note

presents you with a bunch of jewelry, eagerly watching you for your reaction

"what do you think, sweetheart?"

lets you wear his hat the entire time you guys are out as he holds your hand, fingers intertwined with yours

buys you lots of sweets and if you have one in your hand he might try eating it right from your hand

starts complaining if you let go of his hand even once

takes you out for both lunch AND dinner

if you get tired of walking, he'll pick you up bridle style and carry you all the way home

will spend at least a bit of the day cuddling you

also does tip his hat over your eyes and kisses you

jiaoqiu -

spends the entire morning begging for you to pet his ears and tail before gifting you with a pretty heart-shaped bouquet and a warm smile

makes sassy remarks all day but they're intertwined with affection

instead of taking you out, he'd have you cook with him

if you don't know how, he'll teach you, of course

..you guys end up getting covered in flour, but at least the heart shaped cake tastes good!

would watch movies at home, cuddling under the blankets with a bowl of popcorn between you both

eventually you both end up falling asleep on the couch and even if you wake up later on, none of you make a move to go to your shared bed

mydei -

has an obvious soft spot for you

buys you a bunch of chocolate just for the occasion

when you go out, he'll be holding your hand the entire time and keeping you close

treats you with huge affection, sometimes kissing your cheek at random

if anyone dares try to ruin your special day, he'll silence them with a sharp glare before going back to staring at you all innocent

would definitely take you to a flower field while the sun is setting, just so you two can enjoy the scenery

also settles for a picnic instead of a restaurant and tucks a flower into your hair with a fond smile

will carry you home, even if you insist you're not tired

phainon -

absolute gentleman, writes a whole letter and has white roses for you in a bouquet

takes you out to a fancy restaurant for dinner, also takes you shopping in the evening to buy more gifts for you

has his arm wrapped around your waist so he doesn't lose you in the middle of a crowd or at random

when looking at you, he often smiles fondly to himself

takes a dozen pictures of you and saves them to his folder that he has dedicated to you

can you tell I was struggling ..

[ketchup-cat-sub]

Can't find earlier reblogs to better direct my point at... well, you know.

I am unreasonably upset by people who write long texts refusing to even attempt to sound serious. Pardon my language, but what the fuck is "r" doing in a response containing multiple sentences, arguably multiple paragraphs? Are three letter words too long?

I feel confident making this point because this style of writing is so clearly intentional. Going around mocking grammar mistakes or things that are obviously the result of not paying enough attention. I'm not expecting anyone to proofread their social media comments.

But this to me appears as a deliberate style choice, and this is not the first time I'm noticing it. I think it's supposed to sound... cutesy? To give of the vibe that "hey guys, it's not that serious. Look, I'm not even putting in the capitalization or apostrophes or bothering to write put three letter words. It's all silly!"

And it feels demeaning to read. Like the person writing like that is not taking the people they are talking to seriously. Quite literally it is a case of not treating the conversation or the people being responded to as worthy of a properly phrased response. In this instance, it shows how (un)serious some people think transmisogyny is.

"Trans women are doing feminism to repent for the original sin of manhood!" being the line of attack from that genderqueerdykes account is just so ...

Hahahahahahahaha

It's funny. The Lemkin Institute put out a statement today that GCs hate trans women due to "misandry". It was taken down after an outcry from transfems.

Because we refuse to be tokenized, to not be centered in the topic of our own oppression, to be used as a shield for men.

The fear of the tranny finally having a voice, finally having an avenue, a means of redressing millennia of utter epistemic erasure.

You are right to be scared.

Your idols will be ash beneath our soles :)

[hcverns]

Risks Taken

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader, minghao is mentioned

word count: 9.4k

warnings: mentions of drinking, cursing, some spice (making out)

genre: angst, fluff (basically angsty stuff with a happy ending), best friends to lovers.

synopsis: in the midst of enjoying his blissful saturday night with you and a romance movie, his world suddenly stopped spinning when you mentioned another guy's name.

a/n: hi oh my god i'm so nervous. this is literally my first fanfic i've ever written. i wrote this for my best friend and i asked her permission to post it on tumblr and she said yes so here i am :) i apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes or any mistake at all, really. likes, replies and reblogs would be much appreciated. much love <3

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was Saturday night. The TV was on in your living room. A rom-com movie was playing on the screen. What was the title, he wasn’t sure. But it was quite entertaining. He had underestimated your choice of movie at first, but you had begged him so nicely with those puppy eyes that always made him weak in the knees. Who could blame him for giving in to his best friend’s request?

So here you two were. Relaxing on the couch while watching a movie. There were a bunch of snacks on the coffee table in front of you. You were sitting side by side, both your feet resting on top of the coffee table without a single care with just the right amount of distance separating the two of you. Just a perfect Saturday night.

Jeonghan stretched his arm to reach for a bag of gummy bears on the table, only to find none of it.

“What the— Hey, did you finish all the gummy bears?” He asked you who were sitting beside him on the couch but his question was responded by silence.

He sighed and shook his head slightly. He turned his gaze to you only to notice that your eyes were focused on the TV screen. Instead of calling you out for finishing the gummy bears, he looked at your features in silence. A small smile appeared on his lips unintentionally. He noticed your hair had gotten longer. It almost reached your shoulders.

He remembered the time when you had cut your hair short. Like short, short. Masculine type of short hair. You’d been so excited to show him. He couldn’t, wouldn’t ever forget the happiness in your eyes when you facetimed him to proudly show him your brand new look. And it really surprised him with how beautiful you looked with that hair. Your excitement and confidence really added into it. He was happy to witness you being brave enough to look different, to look bold, to express yourself just like you had wanted to.

He snapped back to reality when you squealed like a schoolgirl.

“Han, they’re gonna kiss. They’re gonna kiss!” You said in excitement.

Jeonghan furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “What?”

“They’re gonna freaking kiss! You heard me.” You repeated yourself without turning your gaze in the slightest bit.

“How do you know?”

“How could I not? I’ve watched this befo— AAHH! They kiss! See?” You turned your head to him with the biggest smile on your face.

Jeonghan had to fight the urge to say “so fucking adorable” out loud at the sight of his best friend’s smiley face. Instead, he decided to ask you, “You’ve watched this movie before?”

You simply nodded.

“And you’re watching it again?”

You nodded your head again.

He sighed. “Why?”

You jerked your head back in confusion. “What do you mean 'why?'”

“You’ve watched this movie before. Why are you watching it again? What’s the point of watching the same movie twice?”

You rolled your eyes at his question. To you, it sounded so dumb. “Han, have you watched this movie before?”

Jeonghan shook his head.

“That’s why I chose this movie for our movie night. This movie is so good I couldn’t help but share the experience of watching this masterpiece with you. You should’ve thanked me, you know?”

Jeonghan chuckled a little. You really knew how to respond to literally anything. But he really needed to know why you were willing to watch the same movie more than once, so he questioned you again, “Yeah, but why are you willing to watch it again?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Oh boy. Just be quiet, yeah? You’ve watched ‘The Glory’ more than once as well, remember? And it’s a series. A goddamn series!” You laughed sarcastically.

He laughed as well. You got a point. He remembered when he had finished watching ‘The Glory’ for the first time and he couldn’t help but watch the said series again for the second time the very next day.

“You’re silent now, huh?” Your lips formed into a smirk.

“Shut up.” He brushed you off. The trace of his smile was still visible on his lips.

“Anyway, (Y/N), since you were very focused on two people kissing on the screen, let me ask you again. Did you finish all the gummy bears?” He raised his eyebrow.

“That… I did, yeah.” You admitted that it made Jeonghan groan.

“Well, you know what, I think I still have some in the cabinet. I’ll grab ‘em for you.” You quickly added when Jeonghan started to groan. He really did want some gummy bears, it seemed.

A smile quickly appeared on his face. “Wait, really? Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it myself. You keep going with your ‘Lovely Rosie.’” Jeonghan got up from the couch and made his way to your kitchen.

“It’s 'Love, Rosie' you jerk!” You yelled from the living room that made him laugh.

Jeonghan opened one of the hanging cabinets’ doors where you usually kept your snacks. He didn’t have to guess which one because he had been in your place many, many times.

Ever since you had started being best friends, which was roughly six years ago, you had this one night in a week, usually on Saturday night, where you just chilled and watched movies together. Of course it didn’t happen literally once in a week because, as responsible adults, you two sometimes were busy with something. But still, it was a tradition for you.

Jeonghan finally found two large bags of gummy bears in the cabinet. He smiled brightly as he held them with his right hand. He immediately walked himself back to the living room. He was so ready to plop himself on the couch before he took a quick look at you, who apparently were focused on your phone, rather than the TV screen, with a big smile on your face.

Jeonghan furrowed his brows. ‘Why is she ignoring the movie without even pausing it and why is she smiling so damn big now while staring at her phone?’ He wondered inwardly.

He slowly sat himself down on the couch. His best friend’s attention was still on her phone. He noticed your fingers typing something, seemingly.

He waited for a few seconds (which felt like hours) for you to turn your attention to him. Or the TV screen. Or the freaking gummy bears in his hand. Anything but your phone. He got a bad, bad feeling.

His curiosity piqued. He couldn’t help but ask you about it. “You’re texting someone?”

“Yup.” You answered with just one word. But this one word was enough to make Jeonghan’s heart sting a little.

“Oh.” That was all he said. He didn’t want to seem nosy so he didn’t push you to tell him who you were  texting. But not gonna lie, there was a slight pang of hurt in his chest. ‘Who are you texting? Why are you smiling so bright right now?’ He questioned again.

He tried to ease his own worry by forcing himself to think positively. ‘That could be her mom. But who on earth texts their mom with a smile like that??’ The attempt to clear the fog on his brain failed miserably.

“Who?” The word just slipped out of his mouth because apparently he ran out of his self control.

You didn’t answer him immediately and that almost drove him insane.

After a few seconds of you smiling and typing and him resisting the urge to just snatch your phone himself (which again, felt like fucking hours to him), you put your phone down on the couch beside your thigh.

You looked at him, still with a smile on your face. If it were under different circumstances, he would smile back at you. Why wouldn’t he? Your smile was his favorite thing ever after all.

Instead of smiling like he usually did, he raised his eyebrow as a sign that he was waiting for an explanation.

“Sorry, sorry. What was it again?” you innocently asked him to repeat his question.

Without wasting a millisecond, he uttered what was on his curious mind. “Who were you texting?”

Your facial expression turned shy. Exactly like someone who was thinking of their crush. And the pain in his chest increased.

“It’s just… someone.”

“Someone who?” He responded quickly. Demanding for a real and clear answer.

“Was it a guy?” He hoped you couldn’t notice the jealousy in his tone.

And what he hoped for was exactly what happened, but at what cost? You were completely oblivious of his jealousy. A shy smile made an appearance on your pretty face and it was enough to confirm Jeonghan’s bad feeling.

You took a deep breath before answering him. “So, his name is Minghao…”

Jeonghan swore he could feel his heart stop for a second. You mentioning the guy’s name that you had been texting with felt like a stab to his heart. No, that can’t be. He refused to believe it. He really wanted to pull his own hair in frustration but he chose to stay silent as you continued talking about this Minghao guy.

“He’s a barista in Franky n Co, the coffee shop I work in.” Your face got slightly red as you were talking about Minghao to your best friend.

Jeonghan was using all his power to keep a straight face. He even tried to smile a little as a way to make you believe that he wasn’t jealous at all. “Are you guys dating or something?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “N-no. We’re not dating. At least not yet, I hope.” A shy smile appeared again on your face at the end of your sentence.

“So… you like him?”

“Well, yeah. Let’s just say that me and Minghao are in a… what’s it called? Talking stage? Yeah. We’re currently in a talking stage.” You smiled widely as you explained to him what this Minghao guy was to you and it made his blood fucking boiling.

“So he likes you too?” The smile on his face right now was the fakest smile in the whole damn universe. In his mind, he was clenching his fists very tightly to the point that his fingernails hurt the palm of his hands.

Your smile faltered as you were reminded of the uncertainty of Minghao’s feelings for you. “Uh, I’m not sure. I mean, we’ve gone on two dates and they went pretty well. But he hasn’t told me whether he likes me or not and vice versa.”

When he felt his heart was stabbed earlier, this time it felt like the knife had been twisted and made the pain tenfold. ‘Dates. They had gone on two dates. Two fucking dates.’ Jeonghan was on the brink of insanity.

“You two have gone on dates? Tell me about it.” He was scared for a second that you would catch up on the sarcasm that lingered on his words.

You didn’t, though. Jeonghan didn’t know he should be grateful or hateful at your unawareness. Your eyes got excited as you were going to tell him about your dates with Minghao.

“First, it was a movie date. We went to the cinema after we finished our shift. And the second one was three days ago. It was an ice cream date..? I mean, we just went to an ice cream shop after work and we talked about several topics while eating ice cream. And he held my hand all the way home.”

Your voice was so dreamy. It sounded so sweet. If only you were talking about him in that manner rather than Minghao. He didn’t need to hear all those details. He wanted to throw up. He felt sick to his stomach. ‘That coffee maker even had a chance to hold her hand? All the way home??’

Jeonghan didn’t know what this Minghao guy looked like. He didn’t know his personality as well but he really, really wanted to punch him in the face right now.

“That sounds so cute. A movie date and an ice cream date? How adorable.” His words were completely opposite of what was truly on his mind.

“Right! Do you think he likes me back?” you asked him a question that sounds so ridiculous to him. But all he did was shrug his shoulders slightly.

“He could.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you asked him again with eyes full of hope.

‘Hell fucking no.’ That was what he wanted to say. But he wasn’t stupid enough to let that happen. He didn’t want to ruin your mood like that. So he just nodded instead.

Then, the unexpected happened. Something that made Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. Something that made his jealousy and rage calm down even though only a bit. You squealed and threw yourself at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

The hug was short, he couldn't help but long for it again when you let go.

“Thank you for convincing me that there’s a possibility of Minghao liking me back. You’re the best, Han!”

Then it came back again. The jealousy and anger. Your smallest words and acts could really put him on a wild roller coaster ride.

Jeonghan swore he didn’t mean it. He just lost control over his movement. He couldn’t think straight so he let his heart take the lead this time.

As a response to you thanking him, he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

And when he heard your small gasp, he knew he fucked up.

“What was that for?” you asked in disbelief.

Jeonghan played dumb by asking you back, “What was what for?”

“Why did you roll your eyes and scoff like that, Han?” He could hear the slight sadness in your tone.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fucking hell. Should he say it? There’s no use in hiding it anymore, right?

He was fighting a battle in his own head now. He sat in silence as his brain was working really hard to decide what his response should be.

“Yoon Jeonghan.”

He quickly looked at you when you called him by his full name like that. He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to leave your place, got in his car and drove himself to the highway at the speed of a hundred miles an hour while ignoring the red lights.

“What did you even see in him, anyway?” His heart took full control of his mouth now. He really did say the exact thing on his mind without a filter.

“Excuse me?”

Offended. Disbelief. Bewilderment. Confusion. A hint of anger. Jeonghan could see those emotions mixed into one on your face.

“You heard me right.” He didn’t back down. No lame excuses such as “Sorry, I was possessed by an unknown spirit that’s why I was spewing bullshit.” or “Oh, I was just reciting a line from a movie.” Nothing.

“What the fuck?”

He had it coming. He knew you would respond harshly. Those three words were enough to make the pain on his chest more intense. He didn’t say anything in return. He just looked down at the carpet beneath his feet in embarrassment and jealousy. The gummy bears he had taken earlier were long forgotten, just like the movie.

“Han, explain!” you raised your voice just a little at your best friend’s silence.

You snapped. So he did too.

“I don’t like the fact that you like that guy, whatever his name is, okay?”

If he thought that his heart was taking full control of the way he acted and spoke, he was wrong. His head was also taking control. His heart and his head were equally in chaos and clouded by jealousy. So he was sure that the words he just said to you were justified.

And he lied, by the way. He knew exactly the name of that guy.

Meanwhile, you felt like a punch had landed straight on your chest. Your brain couldn’t process the words that came out of Jeonghan’s mouth just now. You didn’t even know how to feel. Of course, you were confused as hell. But other than that, you weren't even sure. Should you feel sad? Angry? What?

“B-but why?”

The way you stuttered was almost enough for his heart to soften and to make him apologize to you immediately. Right, almost. Not entirely, no. Jealousy was still consuming his heart and head.

Jeonghan got a brief and sudden flashback to when his little heart finally had gotten the courage to admit to himself that he indeed had more-than-friends feelings for you.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

It was roughly one and a half years ago. He still remembered the way he had cursed in the darkness of his room, under the warmth of his blanket. He had been in shambles. His brain had short-circuited. He was confused, sad, even angry at himself. He wanted to be angry at you too for being such an absolute flawless human being and had the audacity to effortlessly play with his heartstrings like that.

The thing is, he had never been friendzoned. Never. But he had enough information about it. A complete glossary from A to Z regarding things that were related to the said situation and none of them had a positive connotation. All thanks to his friends. Joshua drank himself to sleep for two weeks straight and Seungcheol had lost several kilos of body mass because of fucking friendzone.

And most importantly, they vented their sadness and frustration to Jeonghan.

Despite laying on his soft bed with a soft pillow under his head, he felt very uncomfortable. He wanted to rest his mind in a peaceful slumber but he just couldn’t. After a few tossing and turning, he heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand.

With a weak hand, he reached for his device and found out who texted him that late.

It was you.

thank you so much for today hannie!! im no longer sad now. in fact this gotta be the best birthday ever with my best friend ever who gave me the best present ever!! goodnite :D

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. Best friend. He groaned onto the pillow as his brain was recalling the recent event that happened earlier that day. Your  twenty-fourth birthday.

As someone who lived far away from family, you didn’t have the privilege to have your birthday celebrated at home with your parents, siblings and pet cat. You also didn’t have that many friends in the city you currently lived in so your birthday was less lively than the ones you had before you moved out.

You weren't exactly sulky or sour but Jeonghan could see right through his best friend. It was your birthday and he wanted you to have the time of your life. Of course he already prepared a gift for you. A Hogwarts themed lego set which you eyed on when you two were window shopping two weeks ago. But he wanted to do more. He wanted to make your  birthday as joyful as the ones you had in your hometown.

So he asked you to go to a beach. It was spontaneous, really. He didn’t plan it beforehand but he knew a small and beautiful beach just thirty minutes drive from the city called Azure Cove.

He remembered the way your whole face lit up when he brought up the idea of going to Azure Cove as a way to celebrate your birthday. He also could never forget the way you glowed when both of you arrived at the said location. That was the happiest of you he had ever witnessed and he felt some kind of pride for being the reason behind it.

As you were enjoying the rich color of sunset on the beach, Jeonghan went back to his car and took out the Lego set he had bought for you.

And it was the moment that made Jeonghan couldn’t fall asleep that night. The way you hugged him so tightly, your eyes slightly glistened with tears and a tender kiss on his cheek. The kiss. The goddamn kiss that made a switch in his brain flip. The kiss that made him realize that he, indeed, had feelings for his best friend for God knows how long.

He looked back at the text you had sent him. The words ‘best friend’ you put right there made him slightly bitter. Well, you weren't wrong, but Jeonghan wasn’t ready for the cursed ending he would receive for being in love with you. A friend-fucking-zone.

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧

Back to the current situation.

The flashback got Jeonghan a little bit dizzy. He knew he was going to be friendzoned the moment he’d realized he had feelings for you. But to be honest, he had a sliver of hope that one day, you would see him as more than a friend. People might ask, what made him have such a hope? Jeonghan didn’t know either. A blind optimism? Delusion? Anyway, a hope is a hope.

“I just… I don’t like the fact that you’re seeing that person, you know? A barista? Come on. You can do better than that.”

Jeonghan knew it was a dick move to say something classist like that. He was an accountant and everyone including him knew he earned way more than that Minghao guy. If Jeonghan was in his right state of mind, he would never say anything like that. But he was too angry, too jealous and even too sad. So, again, for him, it was justified.

You never once thought Jeonghan would say something with a classist undertone like he just did now. Your jaw dropped in surprise. You had no idea what to say. Your brain just stopped working because this whole situation was way too unexpected to happen. “What the hell did you just say?”

He scoffed. Oh, this was so not him. “Someone like you should be with someone who, I don’t know, better than that Minghao dude.”

Enough with the speechlessness. You felt like you were being degraded. Although Jeonghan’s degrading words weren’t really for you, still, it was your taste in men that got targeted. With rage in your voice, you talked back, “Yeah? Like who? And what do you mean by someone like Minghao?”

“Like me!”

Uh oh. That was it. His emotions got the best of him. He uttered those words with a raised voice. He often dreamed about confessing to his best friend about his undying love. But not this way. Never this way. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He silently cursed his inability to stay calm and keep things cool. He wanted to beat himself up especially after he saw the shocked look on your face.

You were speechless for the nth time tonight and all thanks to Jeonghan. The soft spoken Jeonghan would never attack you multiple times in one go. When you had been angry just a few seconds ago, you were now confused as fuck. You couldn’t wrap your head around the words he just said. What the hell was that? What did he mean by someone like him? Why would he say that?

“Han, a-are you drunk right now? Did you drink something–”

“I’m not fucking drunk, (Y/N)! I’m sober, okay?” Your words were cut short by Jeonghan’s interruption. That irritated him a lot. Assuming him to be drunk? You must be joking.

“Then why did you–”

“Because I have feelings for you, damn it!"

There. The truth was out now in the open. Lingering in the air of the safe haven in the form of your living room, which currently no longer seemed safe for Jeonghan. Despite the voices of the actors conversing in the movie on the TV screen, Jeonghan could hear his heart beat faster than normal. He could also hear the gears in your head work to process the sudden piece of information he had dropped.

Jeonghan didn’t know how long the silence lasted. It felt like an eternity. He currently had two moods now. He either wanted to bury himself deep into the ground or he wanted to burst into tears.

When you finally moved your lips to say something, Jeonghan felt the urge to throw up. He completely had no idea of what was to come. But in a situation like this, he was sure everyone’s brain was programmed to automatically think about the worst case scenario. And what was the worst case scenario in his head now? You rejecting him in cold blood, telling him that you already had your eye on that coffee maker.

“Y-You’re joking, right?” You finally said.

It pissed him off, truly. Was him having feelings for you that shocking to hear? Hadn’t you seen the signs he had tried to show for the past several months? Well, he was completely aware that he had never said it directly that he was in love with you. But hadn’t you realized he had done so many things for you that he would never do to his other friends?

“Of course I’m not. I’m dead serious, (Y/N)!” He said in frustration. Jeonghan was not backing down. The truth was out. Might as well pour his entire heart out to you after holding it in for so long.

You could feel your heart beat so fast. You had never thought that you would be in such a situation. You didn’t know what to say. Your usual talkative self was in a hibernate mode. Your brain stopped working.

“But… why?” You muttered. You needed more information about whatever the hell was happening now so that you could start to think properly.

Jeonghan, getting even more frustrated now, ran his hands through his hair roughly. Why’d you had to ask him that? Couldn’t you just… reject him right at that moment so that the storm of hurt would pass quickly?

“Why what, huh? Why what, (Y/N)? Why am I in love with you? Jesus Christ, have you looked at you? You’re literally perfect. You have bewitched me with your perfection and I have been very willing to be bewitched by you. It’s a blessing for me to get to love someone like you. You make me happy. You make me feel things I hadn’t felt for so long. I love you, (Y/N). I love loving you.” Jeonghan confessed it all almost in one breath.

Seeing your best friend ramble about how much he loved you wasn’t on your bingo card. You had asked Jeonghan to give you a reason why he loved you and there you got it. Still, you found this entire situation confusing as hell. You still lost your ability to think. The only thing you felt right now was, somehow, guilt.

“Jeonghan…” you said his name oh-so-gently. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

Your apology somehow sounded way worse than he had imagined. It was worse than being rejected in cold blood. Like, why were you sorry? Jeonghan hated it when people pitied him. Especially you.

He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Of course you didn’t. How could you? I never told you anything about it. Don’t be sorry, please. Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t want you to feel guilty. I don’t want your pity. But damn it. It hurts. It hurts a lot. I love you so much but you don’t love me. Not the way I want to be loved.”

When you didn’t say anything, Jeonghan seized the opportunity to say more. He just wanted to let it all out. Friendship gone, be damned. He had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed anyway.

“You didn’t see it, did you? When I did all those things for you. Things I have never done for my other friends because, well, I don’t really see you as my friend. At least in my imagination.” Jeonghan uttered while looking straight into your orbs.

Then, he averted his gaze downwards towards the beige carpet. “And now you went on dates with this… Minghao dude who I have no idea about at all. I don’t know what he looks like. He must be drop dead gorgeous, huh? I bet I can never hold a candle to him. What a lucky bastard. He’s able to brag about going on dates with someone like you. I don’t know who this Minghao guy is but I despise him already. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I know you think I’m going insane right now. Hell, I probably am. I’m sure I look like a madman but I meant what I said, (Y/N). Every single goddamn word. I meant it.”

You could only look at Jeonghan as he crashed out. All the words he said started to get into your head. You allowed yourself to receive those pieces of information, no matter how absurd your mind made them to be.

You also allowed yourself to dive deep into the memories you had shared with Jeonghan. The moments. The events. All those things where Jeonghan’s actions had clearly shown that he cared for you more than you knew. When he had biked to your place during the rain because his car had broken down. You had experienced immense period pain and you hadn’t been able to stand on your own. So, Jeonghan and his bicycle had made their way to your apartment with a heat pack, chocolate bars and your other favorite snacks.

Despite the discomfort of his soaking wet clothes and the freezing temperature, he had given you the biggest smile when you opened the door. You, being an emotional person that you were, had cried on sight.

That was one of the prime examples of how loud his actions spoke. Even louder than words. You cursed yourself inwardly at how dumb, blind and stupid you had been. All along you had wished for Prince Charming to sweep you off your feet someday, not realizing that your very own best friend had done above and beyond for you under your nose. You couldn’t be more blind than this.

“Please, princess, say something.” Jeonghan pleaded in desperation. The silence was killing him in the most torturous way. He had never deemed himself as someone who couldn’t control his emotions especially when he had an audience in front of him but now was a special case. His vision blurred with tears and he didn’t even hide it from you. This was probably the most vulnerable he had ever been. He had bared his heart and soul in front of you, after all.

You inhaled shakily, readying yourself to say something after being quiet for what seemed like ages.

“Y-You’ve done so much for me…” You looked down and whispered. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your teary-eyed best friend. “...and I was so blind, wasn’t I?”

The hint of self loathe in your voice didn’t escape Jeonghan’s attention. No. No, no, no. Despite his anger and frustration, his heart softened immediately. He could never watch you blame yourself for anything at all. Ever.

“No, please. It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault. It’s me, alright? It’s all me. I’ve had deep, deep feelings for you but I never said a single thing. I-I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. You didn’t deserve it.” Jeonghan swallowed hard. The lump in his throat almost made him unable to speak.

“W-Why? Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve been more considerate of how I talked about… things.” Your voice was just above a whisper. Your head was a mess now. You felt guilty and confused at the same time.

Jeonghan wanted to cup your face to comfort you like he had done many times before but he wasn’t sure that you would feel disgusted or not. So, he settled by just grabbing your hand and stroking it with his thumb.

“Hey, it’s alright. Not your fault, okay? And I wouldn’t want you to be considerate of some bullshit and make you stop acting as your usual, comfortable self when you’re around me. I want you to always have your guard completely down when you’re with me.” Jeonghan comforted you while he was supposed to be the one who needed to be comforted.

Your eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. “But I hurt you. I’ve hurt you for so long and I didn’t even realize it. I hurt you just now because I selfishly flaunted my dates with Minghao at you like an idiot. I-I should’ve known–”

Jeonghan interrupted you quickly. He couldn’t let you blame yourself any further. He tightened his grip around your hand but it wasn’t too tight to hurt.

“It’s alright. You’re not in the wrong. Yes, I’ve been hurt but that’s just simply inevitable. You didn’t intentionally hurt me.”

Your dam broke. The tears you had tried to hold back were finally free falling now. You leaned closer to Jeonghan, seeking for more comfort and warmth in his arms like you had done a million times before whenever you felt horrible.

Jeonghan’s heart beat a thousand miles per hour. He hadn’t expected you to still want to be this close to him after his confession. Jeonghan pushed all his thoughts away and he wrapped his lean but muscular arms around your body. He stroked the silky strands on the back of your head and let you cry onto his chest. He didn’t mind your tears and snot ruining his shirt. He just wanted to be close to you as much as you wanted to be close to him.

All the overwhelming emotions that you contained were pouring out in the form of your tears. You were sniffling and sobbing on Jeonghan’s shirt, trying to get rid of all the guilt and confusion as Jeonghan kept whispering words of comfort to you.

After you felt like you finally had enough crying, you leaned your head back from Jeonghan’s chest and looked up at him. As beautiful as you were when you cried, the sight was still heartbreaking for Jeonghan because somehow he was the one who caused this. Your eyes were red and puffy and your nose was red as well. Jeonghan slowly reached for your face with his trembling, delicate fingers and started wiping the rest of your tears. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch which caused his breath to hitch. The gesture was beyond intimate.

“I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.” That was the first thing you said after spending your time crying. A bit unexpected, it made Jeonghan chuckle lightly. “That’s alright. No need to worry. I have laundry detergent and a washing machine that works just fine. But… how are you feeling now? Better?” He asked while still looking down at you.

You sniffled again, trying to suck in the snot in your nostrils that had been bothering you. “In a way, yeah. But it’s funny, you know? You’re the one who is hurt and I’m the one who hurt you yet here you are, comforting me while I’m weeping like a loser.” A humorless laugh followed your words.

Jeonghan gave you a tender stare. For him, no matter the reason, if he ever saw you cry, the first thing he needed to do was to comfort you. Reciprocated or not, he would always put you first.

“You know that I could never see you cry, right? Never, ever. Well, unless when we’re watching sad movies.” Jeonghan said with a small smile, trying to lighten up the situation a little. You smiled back at him. Despite your puffy eyes, your smile still looked as pretty as ever.

For a moment, you spent your time like that in silence, staring into each other’s face. It was so intimate. Jeonghan was sure that they were actually the only couple of friends who had ever done this. He got lost easily in your beautiful eyes.

Jeonghan decided to break the silence after some time. Maybe it was just his deluded mind taking control but he believed that the ball was in his court now.

“I need to ask you something, okay? If you’re not comfortable answering, you’re free not to. No pressure, alright?” He said softly, trying not to scare you off. You nodded your head, signalling him to ask you what he wanted to ask.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, bracing himself to ask this dangerous question. “Have you ever… thought about us?” He asked as carefully as possible.

You tilted your head to the side. A gesture you always did whenever you were confused. “Like… romantically?” Your voice was filled with vulnerability.

Jeonghan was so grateful that you could catch up really quickly so he didn’t need to elaborate. His eyes lit up as he nodded, confirming your question. “Yeah, romantically. Have you ever thought about us in that way?” He tried to be as calm as possible but the surge of hope in his voice betrayed him.

Your face turned a bit sad at the confirmation. You bit your lower lip and chewed on the skin there. You didn’t quite know what to say. Never once in your life you had thought of having to face such a question.

Jeonghan picked up your uncertainty and trepidation immediately. Years of being friends with you had made it easy for him to recognize the slightest change in your facial expression.

He stroked your hair lovingly. “It’s alright. No need to be afraid. I’m a big guy, remember? I can handle rejection.” He put on a brave face and a small smile to convince you that he was fine while he was clearly not. Even though he had told you that it was okay if you didn’t want to answer, not gonna lie, he needed to hear what was in your mind. He knew the rejection would hurt him for years but he would rather have that than being kept in the dark for God knows how long.

He kept stroking your hair, trying to make you as relaxed and safe as possible, to show you that you had no reason to be afraid in front of him and you could always be honest whenever you were around him.

You swallowed the lump in your throat before finally speaking up. “I-I don’t know… I’ve thought about it a couple of times.” You said weakly, still with a hint of anxiety.

Jeonghan’s heart skipped a few beats after hearing your words. Like, what do you mean you had thought about them romantically a couple of times? What? HUH?

He had to fight the urge to halt any kind of movements that could ruin the moment. He almost curled his fingers into fists but he couldn’t do that, could he? Absolutely not. Unless he wanted to cause you pain by gripping your hair tightly in his fist. Nope. He wouldn’t do that. He would rather be tied down to a train track with a train approaching than hurting you.

Jeonghan had a really hard time finding his own voice. He tried to speak but no words came out. It was too overwhelming for him. He hadn’t expected this to happen. He had expected you to say “why would I think about us that way?” or something along the line. A big, massive, grand rejection. But, no. This wasn’t a rejection, was it? Nothing had prepared him for this.

Before Jeonghan could say a word, you beat him to it. “But every time I thought about it, it always left me feeling afraid.”

Well, that was another blow Jeonghan had never expected. So the idea of you two being romantically involved scared you. Why on earth? He no longer stroked your hair now. His hands were still around your body but he made no movement.

“And why is that, beautiful? What are you so afraid of? Tell me, please. It’s okay.” Jeonghan finally spoke with a strained voice. He desperately needed to know the reason.

You started to tear up again. You looked down to avoid his eyes. You didn’t want him to see you cry again. You sniffled before you tried to explain to him.

“Because, H-Han, I’m scared of losing you. You’re my safe place. My solace. My comfort. I could act like my very own self unapologetically whenever I’m around you. Y-You’re too precious to me. I don’t want to risk losing you.”

Although he didn’t know what that meant, he had one thing on his mind: he needed to put you at ease. He needed you to know that he wasn’t going anywhere at all. So, he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a second too long but you didn’t mind it. You breathed shakily as you felt his lips touching your skin. You didn’t pull away a single inch and clutched his shirt in your fists before closing your eyes.

Jeonghan pulled away so that he could look at you. The sight of you having your eyes closed was heartwarming and heart wrenching at the same time.

“Sweetheart…” He called you with a lovely term of endearment and it made you open your eyes. He let his fingers stroke the side of your face with such tenderness. “Why’d you even think that you would lose me? I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

You shook your head before burying your face onto his shirt. His shirt was still wet because of your tears earlier and you feared that you would ruin it even more now.

Jeonghan tightened his embrace around you.

“I-If we were like that a-and shit didn’t work out… like any other relationships out there, we would end up as strangers and I don’t want that. I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. I’m scared, Han…” Your voice was muffled and Jeonghan could feel your tears on his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “I’m so scared…” you whispered weakly.

The revelation hit him like a truck. So that was the reason. Jeonghan hated to admit it but you definitely got a point. No couple had eternity guaranteed for them. Many couples broke up. Many married couples got a divorce. It was a flawed world they lived in, after all.

But, still, call him delusional or whatever, he still wanted to taste the sweetness of loving and being loved by you properly. As lovers. He wasn’t ready to give that up yet. Especially knowing that the line had been crossed anyway after he confessed his feelings to you earlier.

Jeonghan loosened his embrace around you a little.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please. I need you to look at me. Can you do that? Please?” He begged with such gentleness.

You sniffled a couple times before detaching your face from his chest and looking up to him. Your eyes and nose were red again but still, you looked like an angel in his eyes.

He wiped the rest of the tears on your face with his fingers. “Thank you so much for telling me about your fears, princess. I know that wasn’t easy. Thank you.” He gave the top of your head a short loving kiss before leaning back to look at you again.

“I understand where you’re coming from, really. You’re precious to me too. I would rather die than lose you. But… don’t you think it’s worth the risk?”

You opened your mouth to protest but he interrupted you. He hated interrupting you especially in moments like this but he needed you to hear him out first.

“Please, sweetheart, listen to me first, yeah? I know that there are many couples out there that don't get their happy endings. Their relationships lead them to heartbreak. I get it. I understand. But the love that I have for you… it’s massive, sweetheart. And I’m ready to love you a lot more, if you let me. We could create something so beautiful together, don’t you think?”

His words were true and nothing but the truth. He had so much love to give for you. He was trying so hard not to break down in front of you. Slowly, he took both of your hands in his and brought them to his lips. He pressed gentle kisses on your knuckles, a sign to show you that he meant every word he had said, that he was absolutely devoted to you.

With your hands still in his, he continued. “I would do everything in my power to keep you happy. I would never hurt you, ever. I would never let us fall apart. If you let me, princess. Just say the word and I promise I will prove it to you.”

You felt your heart flutter. You should’ve known that your best friend was capable of loving this immensely. Even without the promise, you should’ve known that Jeonghan would go above and beyond for you. The things he had done for you throughout your precious friendship had proven enough. You just had been too blind and too afraid to acknowledge it all. But still, your fears were still there.

“B-But what if we fought? What if we argued and we broke up? What if I hurt you?” you argued weakly.

Jeonghan chuckled lightly. It seemed like you needed more convincing to finally let go of your fears, to be brave to take a step forward.

“Every couple has their own ups and downs, love. Arguments and fights are inevitable. But we could always communicate. We could always tolerate each other. I’m ready to tolerate all of our differences. And if you hurt me, I’m sure you’re able to apologize and learn from it, aren’t you? Same thing goes for me. Besides, we already have a pretty strong foundation, don’t we? We’ve been friends, well, best friends for six years. The only arguments we’ve made were probably when you insisted on having a night out and I preferred to stay in. Or when I forgot to buy your favorite ice cream that one time.”  Jeonghan stroked your face lovingly with a smile on his face, offering you peace and comfort. “I promise you, there’s nothing we can’t handle.”

And with that, your doubts started to go away. You thought back to the days when you had argued over small things. Nothing intolerable. you couldn’t speak any words against him because he had made a perfect point. Maybe it was time for you to finally be brave and let go of your fears. Maybe it was time for you to completely trust him and create something unimaginably beautiful together. you gave him a vulnerable smile.

Jeonghan’s smile widened. “That’s the beautiful smile that I love so much.”

You could feel your face get warmer. You moved your hands and wrapped your arms around his neck loosely.

“I wanna learn how to love you as much as you love me, Han.”

Jeonghan had never been happier. This was the start of a new story he was about to write together with you.

“And I’ll teach you how. I’ll gladly give you all the time you need. Even if it takes forever.”

He searched for any doubt in your eyes and he found none. So, he softly touched your chin. His thumb was playful enough to trace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” He took his courage to lean his face closer to yours.

Your heart was now beating a hundred miles an hour. Were you really about to kiss your best friend? But the idea of that didn’t sound bad at all. If anything, you were anticipating it.

When you didn’t pull away, Jeonghan inched his face closer. Before his lips landed on yours, he saw you close your eyes. Jeonghan smiled at the sight and he finally got rid of the distance.

Soft was an understatement when he felt your lips against his. He rested his lips there, not moving in the slightest. He was giving you a chance to pull away.

Two seconds had passed and you didn’t show any sign of resistance. So, he saw it as an opportunity to move his lips and you immediately followed his movement. The kiss was hesitant and careful but sweet nonetheless.

Despite the tentativeness, the kiss was better than he had ever imagined before. He had fantasized kissing you on the mouth countless times for years. Never once in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would get to this very moment.

Because it was your first kiss with each other, Jeonghan didn’t want to cross the line. So, he slowly pulled away. But oh, boy, he needed to think twice about not crossing the line because the sight of you, with your eyes still closed, chasing his lips with your slightly parted ones was more than enough to cause a surge of desire coursing through his veins. He cursed inwardly before crashing his lips on yours again. Self control be damned.

This time, the kiss was more passionate and more urgent. As if Jeonghan was in the middle of a desert and you were an oasis. He moved his lips against yours in a sensual, intimate and lustful dance. It had you surprised for a split second but you were quick to give back the same amount of passion into the kiss.

Sensing that you actually wanted it as much as he did, he tried to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip, asking for an entrance. You moaned into the kiss and Jeonghan swallowed your needy sound with greed. He drank up your noises and it caused him to let out a low groan.

You parted your lips slightly, giving him access to explore your mouth. Jeonghan wasted no time sliding his tongue into the velvet walls of your mouth. Their tongues met, tasting and exploring each other. The sweetness of your wet muscles made him dizzy with need. He groaned as he deepened the kiss even more.

His hands were wandering from your waist to your hips. He let his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he boldly slid them under it, caressing your bare skin. You let out a gasp at the contact and it almost made Jeonghan growl.

He let his hands roam around freely on your torso as his kisses strayed away from your mouth to your chin and down to your neck. You couldn’t do anything besides letting him use your skin as his personal playground.

Jeonghan eventually pushed you gently to lay on the couch as he positioned himself on top of you, between your legs. You were a moaning and whimpering mess under him. Your needy noises made him want you even more. His lips kept exploring your neck, trying to find one spot that would make you go insane.

His lips weren’t the only thing that was working overtime. He also licked and nipped your throat. Enough to make you jolt with pleasure but not enough to leave a mark.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. I can do this all day.” Jeonghan whispered hoarsely against your neck. His breath was warm on your skin. You couldn’t speak properly because your brain had short-circuited the moment your lips had met.

Your fingers started tugging on his locks. The simple act made him moan. The feeling of your hands pulling his hair was making him go crazy.

“Mmh, H-Han… please– aah!” you arched your back and cried out when he nipped your collarbone.

Bingo. Jeonghan finally found that one spot that made you see stars. He paid extra attention to that one particular area by kissing, licking, nipping and lightly sucking on it.

Jeonghan chuckled at your inability to form a coherent sentence. “You like that, princess?” He gently bit your skin. “Right here, yeah? This one, sweetheart?”

You could only moan and whimper at the sensuality of his words and the way his mouth pleasured you. You weren't thinking when you bucked your hips against his. That was the moment when Jeonghan realized that he was as hard as rock.

He pulled his lips away from your collarbone and looked down on you, making you whine in protest.

“W-Why… Why’d you stop?” you asked as you were breathing heavily. Your heart was still beating so fast.

Jeonghan was panting as well. He was trying to regulate his breathing. He had to close his eyes because the sight of you so pretty under his body was downright sinful. Slowly, he sat back up on the couch and you followed suit.

“Princess… let’s stop, yeah? We can’t… We can’t keep going on. At least not yet. Not right now.” He said once his breath had started to steady.

“H-Huh? Why? Did I do bad–”

Jeonghan quickly shook his head to interrupt you because it was actually the opposite. You were too good and Jeonghan almost couldn’t resist to just take you and claim you.

He cupped your face in his palms, gently stroking your cheeks. “No, sweetheart. Of course not. You did so good. Too good. And that’s the problem.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side. “Why is it a problem?”

Jeonghan chuckled lightly. You were so adorable. “It’s a problem because I want to be a gentleman and take you out on a date first, okay? I don’t want to act purely on my urges like a wild animal. You deserve better than that, love.”

Your face lit up when the word ‘date’ reached your ears. “Yeah? You wanna take me out on a date?”

He nodded his head at your excitement. He wrapped his arms around your body in a loving embrace. “Of course I do, sweetheart. How does tomorrow sound? A nice and warm Sunday would be a good day for us to go on a date, wouldn’t it?”

You snuggled against him. “That would be so good. The sooner the better.” You were smiling from ear to ear.

“The sooner the better, indeed. So, tell me, what do you have in mind? Do you want something fancy or casual as our first date?” He asked as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Your lips curled in a cheeky smile. “Don’t you know the answer already? Come on, we’ve been attached to the hip for years now.”

Jeonghan let out a laugh at your teasing. “You cheeky little thing. Alright. Casual, it is. How about… going to the beach, hm? We could lay on a blanket, under the sun. Maybe we could eat some pizzas as well.”

Your eyes turned starry when he mentioned the beach. That couldn’t be any better. “Which beach, Han?” you knew he would say the correct answer but you asked him anyway.

He smiled at you before bringing your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes and said, “Azure Cove.”

Your smile widened and you gave his lips a short but sweet kiss. Jeonghan’s heart skipped a couple of beats when you did that. He could never get used to this. Any physical contact with you might cause him a small heart attack.

“You and me at Azure Cove with a box of pizza and a bottle of vodka. Sounds like the perfect first date for me.” You gleamed as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Jeonghan stroked your hair tenderly “It’s a deal, then, yeah? I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten o’clock. I’ll bring your favorite bottle of vodka with me and we’ll go to Azure Cove.”

“I can’t wait.” You said as you snuggled closer against his body, seeking more warmth.

Both of you spent a few minutes in a comfortable silence with ‘Love, Rosie’ still playing on the TV while cuddling each other on the couch. Then, Jeonghan decided to break the silence.

“You know… I might have something to ask from you.” He said with a hint of distaste and mischief.

You turned your head to look at his face. “What is it?”

Jeonghan’s lips formed a handsome smirk. “Ditch that Minghao guy.”

You bursted out laughing and it made him laugh as well. “Oh my God, Han, I completely forgot about his existence the moment you said you like me. Trust me, he’s the least of your concern right now. I got my eye on you and only you.”

Jeonghan had never ever been happier.

[heliosunny]

tysm for filling in the void for yan mydei im so full just by reading through ur works ugh

more yan is always welcomed but like the plot twist is that it's reader that's the yan and mydei knows and likes it like some guy warns him about ur misdeeds and he's like 'yeah i know, got a problem with that?' listen im just deep into mutual toxic lovers okay thank u for coming to my ted talk keep writing stay hydrated mwap

Mydei x Yandere!Reader

At first, Mydei was just another face in the crowd, one more person who basked in the admiration of others, soaking up attention like it was his birthright.

And you? You acted like you couldn't care less.

When he flashed that charming smile, you barely glanced his way. When he teased, when he toyed, when he played his little games with those around him, you only met him with flat indifference, as if he were nothing special. As if he didn’t matter.

But inside, deep down, where no one could see, you were watching.

You noticed everything. The way he moved, the way his presence filled a room, the way he always seemed so confident, so untouchable. The way others chased him like desperate moths to a flame. It was infuriating. It was intoxicating. You wanted to be the only one who saw him, the only one who truly understood him.

But you couldn’t show that.

So instead, you let him think you were unaffected. You played the part of the one who simply tolerated his presence, the one who didn’t crumble under his charm. And, strangely enough, that was what caught his interest.

Because Mydei had seen admiration before. He had seen obsession, longing, love. But he had never seen someone like you—someone who met him without worship, without expectation.

That was when he started watching you.

At first, it was subtle—lingering glances, idle curiosity. Then it grew. He found himself searching for you in every room, noting the way you reacted (or didn’t) when he spoke. He tested your patience, pushed at your boundaries, just to see what you would do.

And when he finally realized the truth—when he caught that single moment where your mask cracked, when he saw the way your eyes lingered a little too long, the way your fingers twitched when someone else got too close—he smiled.

Because you were different. And that was why he loved you.

The confession came suddenly, without warning.

“I want you” Mydei had said one evening, his voice soft but certain. “You’re the only one who’s ever really seen me.”

You had scoffed, played it off like it meant nothing. "So? What do you expect me to do about it?"

His gaze didn’t waver. "Stay with me."

And that was how it started.

Your relationship was complicated, tangled in sharp edges and unspoken truths. Mydei was possessive, but he never needed to be—because you weren’t going anywhere. You watched him, he watched you, a game of quiet obsession played in the shadows.

So when some fool approached Mydei one day, warning him about you, he only chuckled.

"Obsessed?" he echoed, amusement dancing in his voice. "You act like that’s a bad thing."

After all, love meant never having to let go.

It started with whispers.

A nervous glance here, a hushed murmur there. People had always gossiped, always speculated about your relationship with Mydei, but lately, the tension had shifted. It was no longer just idle curiosity or petty jealousy. No, this was something else.

Fear.

The first warning came from a former admirer of Mydei’s, a trembling voice layered with concern.

"Mydei, I know you might not believe me, but they’re dangerous" she said, wringing her hands together. "They don’t just push people away—they get rid of them. Anyone who gets too close to you just… disappears."

Mydei tilted his head, fingers resting against his chin. "Is that so?"

She nodded quickly, relieved that he was listening. "Yes! I—I don’t think you realize just how deep this goes. I even heard that—"

He cut her off with a lazy smile. "And?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Why did that concern you?"

Her mouth opened and closed, as if struggling to process his response. "They’re obsessed with you! Aren’t you—aren’t you scared?"

"Should I be?" He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. "Tell me, if someone was willing to burn the world down for you… wouldn’t that be just a little bit romantic?"

The girl paled, taking a shaky step back. Mydei only laughed as she hurried away.

The second warning came from someone bolder.

"Mydei, listen to me," a man muttered, grabbing his wrist firmly. "That person you’re with? They’re unhinged. They have people watching you. I—I overheard them threatening someone just for looking at you the wrong way."

Mydei arched a brow. "And?"

The man’s grip tightened. "Don’t you get it? They’re dangerous."

A slow smirk spread across Mydei’s lips. "Good."

The man flinched, his expression shifting from urgency to something wary. "You… you knew?"

Mydei sighed, shaking his head. "Of course I knew. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?" His fingers pried the man’s hand off his wrist, his grip just a little too firm. "Tell me, do you think I look like someone who lets things slip past me?"

The man swallowed hard, but before he could say anything else, Mydei turned away, waving him off as if he were nothing more than a passing nuisance.

The warnings kept coming. People muttering in corridors, exchanging uneasy glances when they thought Mydei wasn’t looking.

They all seemed to think they were telling him some grand secret. That he was blind.

But Mydei had never been blind.

He knew exactly what kind of person you were.

And that was exactly why he stayed.

Mydei was no stranger to being watched. Admired, even. He knew the weight of lingering stares, the way people’s eyes followed him with thinly veiled longing. It was expected, predictable.

But your gaze? That was something else entirely.

He felt it before he even saw you.

It was late afternoon when he paused in the palace gardens, ignoring the meaningless chatter of nobles flitting around him. A faint rustle overhead had his lips curving into a smirk. Subtle to most—but not to him.

Ah. There you were.

Perched on a tree branch like a shadow, watching him with that same unreadable intensity you always had.

The noblewoman beside him prattled on about something inconsequential, but Mydei wasn’t listening. His focus had already shifted. He barely spared the woman a glance before turning on his heel and striding toward the tree, cutting through the manicured hedges without hesitation.

"Ah—Your highness?" The woman’s voice wavered, confused by his abrupt disinterest.

But he was already gone.

You didn’t move as he approached, still as a predator in waiting. Mydei took his time, tilting his head as he peered up at you.

"You know," he mused, amusement lacing his tone, "if you’re going to stalk me, at least put in a little more effort. This is hardly a challenge."

You didn’t dignify that with a response, though your fingers twitched ever so slightly against the bark. Mydei chuckled, stepping closer.

"Are you going to keep watching from up there, or do I have to come and get you myself?"

There was the briefest flicker of movement before you leapt down, landing soundlessly a few feet away. You dusted off your sleeves, leveling him with a blank stare.

"Busy?" you asked, voice flat.

"Not anymore" he said breezily, as if he hadn’t just walked away from an entire crowd to chase after you.

A scoff. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you’re predictable." His smirk widened as he leaned in slightly. "Did you think I wouldn’t notice?"

"You were taking too long."

Mydei let out a delighted laugh. "Impatient, are we?"

You rolled your eyes, but the way you lingered just a little too close, the way your fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to grab him—it was enough to make his blood hum with satisfaction.

"Let’s go somewhere less… public."

You hesitated for only a moment before following.

The nobles and servants who had been watching from afar exchanged looks, whispers passing between them. Some admired the way Mydei always gravitated toward you, the way he smiled so easily in your presence. Others found it unnerving, the intensity between you both—something electric, something dangerous.

But none of them dared to interfere.

Mydei led you through the palace gardens, away from prying eyes. He didn’t need to look back to know you were following. You always did.

That was the fun part.

You never admitted it, never said it outright, but he knew. You were obsessed with him. And, he loved that.

As you walked, his pace slowed until he was just beside you. "You know," he mused, voice light, "most people try to get my attention by speaking to me. But I suppose lurking in trees works too."

"Maybe if you weren’t surrounded by idiots all the time, I wouldn’t have to."

Mydei let out a delighted hum. "Jealous?"

You didn’t answer.

Which meant yes.

He grinned, shifting closer, until his shoulder nearly brushed against yours. "you could always just say you want me to yourself."

"I don’t care what you do"

"You're bad at lying" Mydei sing-songed, clearly entertained.

You huffed, but Mydei only smirked, pleased. He knew how to push, how to tug at the threads of your carefully composed exterior until they frayed just enough to amuse him.

After a few moments of silence, Mydei spoke again, this time more thoughtful. "You know, someone tried to warn me about you again today."

"Is that so?"

He turned to face you fully, walking backward without a care. "Apparently, you’re dangerous."

"Are you scared?"

Mydei chuckled, stepping even closer. "You tell me."

"You really don’t care, do you?"

Mydei’s grin widened. "Would I still be here if I did?"

Your lips parted slightly, and for a second, Mydei thought you might actually say something real. But instead, you scoffed and looked away.

"Tch. Idiot."

"Possessive" Mydei countered smoothly.

You shot him a glare, but he only laughed, unbothered as always.

It started with small things like a glance that lingered too long, a conversation cut too short. People who used to approach Mydei freely now hesitated, their smiles more forced, their words more cautious.

At first, he found it amusing. You were possessive—he had always known that.

But then, things began to shift.

The first real incident was at a banquet.

A noblewoman, a foreign dignitary, all fluttering lashes and saccharine words had taken an interest in him. Nothing unusual. Mydei had entertained her with easy conversation, just enough to be polite.

And then he saw you.

Standing at the edge of the room, watching.

When he met your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, as if waiting. He excused himself from the noblewoman’s company without thinking. His feet carried him toward you before he could question why.

“You’re being ridiculous..” he murmured when he reached you.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to. The way your gaze flicked over his shoulder, where the noblewoman still lingered, was enough.

The next morning, the woman abruptly cut her stay short and left the palace without explanation.

People murmuring about how she had seemed shaken, about how she had refused to speak of why she was leaving.

He didn’t ask you about it.

But that wasn’t the last time.

More people began avoiding him. Conversations ended when he entered a room. Some courtiers wouldn’t even meet his gaze anymore.

And every time, when he turned to look at you, he found you already watching.

“You’re being too much.” he finally told you one evening.

You didn’t flinch. “Too much for what?”

“For them.” Mydei gestured vaguely. “You’re scaring people off.”

“Good.”

He frowned. “That’s not—”

“Do you want them?”

The question was quiet, but it made his breath catch.

You were standing too close now, eyes dark, expression unreadable. The air felt heavier, like a trap he hadn’t realized he’d stepped into.

You weren’t touching him, but he felt caged all the same.

“…No” he admitted.

“Then what’s the problem?”

He let out a slow breath, forcing a smirk onto his lips. “You’re suffocating, you know that?”

“You like it.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

And maybe that was the worst part.

---

Mydei woke to darkness.

His mind was sluggish, limbs heavy. The faint scent of something cloying still lingered at the back of his throat—something sweet.His wrists ached when he moved, the telltale tightness of silk restraints biting into his skin. He was sitting, legs spread, posture relaxed but utterly bound.

A chuckle bubbled up from his throat. “Really?” His voice was hoarse, still thick with the aftereffects of whatever you had given him.

“You went too far.”

Your voice was steady, but he could hear it—the irritation laced beneath. The anger you rarely let slip.

He should be wary. Should be unsettled by the cold metal dragging along his collarbone, the warning pressure of something sharp just barely pressing into his skin.

But he wasn’t.

Because this? This was new.

And Mydei never could resist a good game.

A sharp pain flared across his cheek—a slap, hard enough to make his head turn. The sting bloomed into heat, skin tingling.

Mydei exhaled slowly. “Ah… so that’s how it is?”

You didn’t respond. He could feel you there, hovering close, your presence a weight against his senses.

Then another hit. His lip split, a sharp copper tang filling his mouth.

His tongue darted out, tasting it.

“You don’t like it when I talk to others, do you?” His voice was almost teasing, but lower, rougher.

Your fingers curled around his throat, tightening just enough to make him swallow.

“Shut up.”

He hummed, not quite a laugh, but close. “Make me.”

Your grip tightened, cutting off his breath for just a moment before releasing.

His pulse thrummed with something heady, something dangerous. He shifted slightly, testing his restraints—not out of a desire to escape, but just to feel the silk dig deeper.

A soft chuckle escaped him. “You think this will make me stop?”

You leaned in, breath hot against his ear. “No” you murmured.

You knew him too well.

Knew that no matter how tight you held him, no matter how hard you tried to break him—

He would always let you.

Because in the end, neither of you wanted to let go.

[stellewriites]

Part 5 - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, smut - fingering, oral (f!receiving), riding/frotting, John's genitals are referred to as cock.

You’d been screening John’s calls and leaving his texts unread for the last fortnight, feeling worse and worse for it and not knowing exactly why you were doing it.

Each notification had your heart pumping in excitement for the possibility of him still reaching out despite your silence, and then thumping too hard in immediate anxiety and guilt.

“Stop moping and text him,” Kate said to you finally. She’d been watching you check your phone routinely throughout brunch and had noticed how you were only half focused in their conversations and slow to engage. You’d laugh a second later than the others and had forgotten what you’d ordered when it had arrived at the table.

“I’m not ready for dating.” You shrugged her off, looking back down at your phone.

She huffed and sent you a disbelieving look. Your other two friends currently present, Cass and Paige, paused their conversation to look at you doubtfully too.

“I’ve not seen you as happy as you had been recently when you were hanging out with him,” Kate said and the other two agreed. “I know this isn’t a confidence thing either. He said he liked you, and you clearly liked him.”

“Katie,” you said warningly.

“She’s not wrong,” Paige said and took a sip of her drink.

“I mean, hell, if you’re really set on not dating, then don’t! That’s fine, but text the guy back for god’s sake and hang out again. Or put him out of his misery.” She bit a large chunk out of her avocado toast as you slumped in your chair.

“He’s still trying, right? That’s what you were worried about?” Cass said, hitting the nail on the head.

Guiltily you looked down at the unanswered messages under John’s contact. It stung to realise that maybe John had been genuine that night and you’d turned him down so bluntly.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and typed up your reply, sending it before you could talk yourself out of it.

>> hi john sorry for the distance, i’ve been figuring some stuff out. make it up to you over coffee if you’re free later?

He didn’t leave you waiting anxiously for long, replying immediately with an affirmative.

“What did he say?” Paige asked.

“We’re meeting up later,” you said a little bashfully. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me.”

Kate smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.”

You elbowed her lightly and put your phone away. It was easier to settle back into the conversation with the group, easier to concentrate, with your chest not feeling so tight.

——

“Hey,” you greeted him softly inside the coffee shop later that day. He’d arrived early again.

You felt almost more awkward now than you had when meeting him for the first time.

“How have you been, Sunshine?” He asked as you took your seat.

“Good. Fine. Yeah.” You nodded before you shook it. “I wanted to apologise, John. For a lot of things but—“

“No need, Sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “I’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“I am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“So what’s been new?” He asked again.

You snorted. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each other,” you said.

He blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“Guess I got used to all the updates throughout the day quicker than I’d realised.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking to the counter and sitting up straighter. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it was the other way around.

“Yeah, just an iced latte please,” you said before stopping him from standing. “Hey, I said I was making it up to you. I should be paying.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not likely. You’re making it up to me by sticking around, Sunshine. You didn’t have to come at all.”

“John…”

“One iced latte coming up,” he said and stood. “God knows why, they taste more of sugar than coffee.”

“That’s exactly why,” you huffed a hesitant laugh as he headed to the counter. When he came back a minute later and sat down with the drinks you took a sip before speaking. “To answer your question, work has been the same old, but I’m thinking of maybe getting a pet? Tied between a cat and a rabbit at the moment. If it’s a rabbit, I’ll need to sort the garden though, it’s little bit overgrown right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he put his tea down. “You got the tools for it?”

“I think my neighbour has a lawnmower and my mum probably has a pair of shears I could borrow for the hedges,” you hummed. It had only been a half thought semi-recently, so you’d not put much planning into the idea yet, just the start of a pinterest board of cute ideas.

“I could help,” he offered, a touch too casual. “If you wanted. I’ve got a lawnmower I don’t get to use too often and some time off before I have to head back to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said with a gentle smile.

He nodded.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Same old,” he said vaguely, repeating your own words back at you. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I am having to go back to work properly soon though.”

You tilted your head, confused at his drab tone, certain as you were that you’d messaged once or twice when he was at work, stuck doing paperwork or in a meeting before the wedding.

“I’ll be heading overseas,” he clarified. “Might not be contactable for a few weeks at a time. Just didn’t want you to think…”

“That you were ignoring me to get back at me for the fact that I ghosted you?” You guessed when he trailed off. John nodded sheepishly.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you before I go,” he said quietly, just looking at you.

“Me too,” you agreed. Impulsively, you finished off your drink and made a quick decision. “Do you want to come back to mine for dinner? I’ll cook.”

John grinned brightly. “I’d love that.”

——

You busied yourself in the kitchen when you got back home with him, missing his chuffed smirk when he saw your door was still in working order with no sign of it dragging on the doorstep.

You didn’t miss his hum when he joined you in the kitchen a moment later.

“That shelf meant to be on a slant?” He asked, eyes shrewd as he looked at your collection of herbs and spices.

“Oh, no but I’ve just never found time to fix it. And it’s not fallen down yet, so it’s not even made an appearance on my Urgent List.” You shrugged.

He hummed again and headed back to the front door. “I’ve got my tool box with me, I’ll sort it now for you.”

“No, John, you don’t have to,” you called after him, but he was already out of the door. You didn’t know that he’d kept his toolbox in his truck ever since he was first here just in case you messaged again needing anything sorted, and now he was glad his foresight was paying off.

The shelf was sorted quicker than the kettle boiled and you swatted at him to go relax once he’d cleaned up after himself. He placatingly held his hands up in mock surrender and went to wash up in the bathroom while you rinsed some veg under the kitchen tap.

You were given ten minutes of peace before you started to wonder where he’d gone and left the pasta in the pan boiling and the sauce on a low heat to find him. You weren’t afraid to chew him out if he was snooping, but instead you found him hunched over the sink in the bathroom.

“Taps were finicky,” he said before you’d had chance to ask him what he was doing. When he’d had chance to grab his tools from the kitchen without you noticing you didn’t know, but you couldn’t help but snicker as he frowned down at the old taps.

“Don’t do well sitting still, do you, John?”

He shrugged. “Figured I might as well since I’m here,” he said instead.

You snorted. “Come help me with the sauce once you’re done here then.”

You stifled a laugh when you heard him swear through the open door before the sound of a running tap turned on and off a few times. He came back through to the kitchen a little later with a satisfied smile and you did your best to concentrate on cooking instead.

You smiled at him when he settled in next to you to take over stirring the sauce, leaving you free to set the table. You felt a pang of domesticity, it was all so easy with John.

You plated it up and sat down together. Eating dinner with him was just as easy, the awkwardness you’d felt walking into the cafe forgotten about completely as conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. Though you did have to fend the man off from planning to go out in the morning to get the wood to build you either a hutch for a potential rabbit or put up climbing shelves if you decided on a cat instead; he’d figured you’d be able to decide by time you’d finished the pasta.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” he sighed happily when he finished off the pasta. “Stunning.”

“Thanks, John,” you said bashfully. When you stood to take the dishes he moved quicker and grabbed the plate from your hands. You didn’t bother complaining, knowing how stubborn the man was already; instead you joined him and put the dishes away once he’d cleaned them, smiling to yourself as the pair of you worked in comfortable silence.

When all was put away and your kitchen was back to normal - now with a sturdier shelf - he smiled and headed for the door reluctantly with his toolbox in hand.

“Thanks for today, Sunshine,” he said softly and, after a brief moment of deliberation, he leant in to kiss your cheek. “Talk to you later?”

You nodded happily and closed the door behind him.

When you laid in bed later that night you couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, chaste kiss. The only real one you’d shared so far.

——

You only got a week with John before he disappeared. He’d made you promise to keep him updated like you would normally so he could catch up when he got back again, but you tried not to overwhelm his notifications; sticking to a couple of texts every few days instead of the daily messages you’d quickly fallen back into.

If he wanted more you were sure he’d let you know and if he only skim read the mountain of messages and photos you’d still managed to send then you’d ease up next time.

He said he would be gone a month, tops, but you didn’t hear from him for two. You tried not to worry, his job wasn’t an exact science, but that fact could make you more anxious depending on the day.

It was a random Wednesday evening when you got a knock on your front door and your heart suddenly plummeted.

You walked to the door with shaking hands. The repercussions of John’s work had never fully occurred to you until this moment, or at least you’d done your best not to linger on it for too long. But now visions of the person on the other side of your door being someone in an official uniform, waiting to let you know weeks too late that John had—

John had shown up to your house unexpectedly.

“Sunshine.” He smiled.

Clearly tired, he stood on your doorstep with his hair damp and curling at the ends, his beard overgrown and his work gear still on, though a big bag was hooked over his shoulder. His smile never wavered, relieved when you answered the door.

“John?” You stepped to the side to let him in without a second thought and he trailed a heavy hand appreciatively down your arm.

“Cleaned up a little at base, but I haven’t stopped driving home since. I’ve had you on my mind as soon as we were wheels down,” he admitted with soft eyes.

You didn’t question his use of the term ‘home’ when referring to driving to yours after spending months in another country and you certainly weren’t going to think about how it made you feel.

“You should’ve gone back to yours to sleep, or at least dropped off your things,” you berated him half-heartedly. “We could’ve caught up when you weren’t running on— what? Four hours of sleep?”

“Knew you’d be my first stop.” He’d dropped his bag by the front door, his daft hat dropped on top, and was slumping onto your couch with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve left my shit at base maybe. Just didn’t want to have to drive back tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?” At his slight shake of the head, you moved to the kitchen and started pulling something together, leaving him to relax. You knew he must be tired by how he wasn’t following after you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you came back with a thick sandwich, the last slice of a quiche you’d made earlier in the week and some picky bits from your fridge to find him asleep. You cringed at the lacklustre dinner, but you hadn’t been expecting guests and you were going grocery shopping tomorrow, so you placed it on the coffee table and sat down carefully next to him so he didn’t wake.

Turning down the volume on the TV, you let him nap as you watched a few episodes of your latest favourite. You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart over to him every so often to check on him, giggling when you noticed his mouth had dropped open during his well deserved catnap.

You paused your show when he grumbled and wiped a slow hand over his face a few hours later.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Hungry?”

“Starving,” he groaned croakily.

“Best I could do on short notice,” you said and handed him the plate. You watched like a big cat documentarian as he tore through the food with an unholy passion, finished in minutes. You silently handed him your water and he chugged it back with a loud ‘ahh’ after.

“Lovely as ever,” he said sleepily before nodding back off. You stifled a laugh and stood to grab him an extra pillow and blanket. It was clear he wouldn’t be driving home tonight, so you thought you might as well let him get comfy and crash on the couch for the night.

A brief thought crossed your mind of waking John and letting him share your bed; you’d done it for the wedding after all, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

You shook your head and draped the blanket over him. You knew it would mean something and you weren’t ready to make that step yet as much as you wanted it.

——

You woke in the morning to John using your shower and you smiled at him with raised ‘brows when he came back out dressed in more familiar civ clothes. You looked for the bag at the front door but couldn’t see it.

“Staying for breakfast or heading home?”

“Heading home, sadly. But I’ll call you later, yeah? I want to catch up properly,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay, Sunshine.”

“Of course,” you said genuinely and in between bites of your cereal. “It was a nice surprise.”

He hummed and leant in to kiss your temple with a warm hand cradling the back of your neck. You tried desperately not to push into him and to ignore the thoughts of how he smelt like you out of your head; how if anyone tried to flirt with him on his way home they’d smell your strawberry shampoo and very berry body wash. How your spring air scented febreeze spray had sunk into his jacket from the couch through the night.

Your subtle mark was all over him and neither of you seemed to mind.

“Call me when you get home, John.”

He hummed, lingered for a moment more, then headed out with his bag in tow.

——

The bar was loud and your friends were still wide awake and partying strong, celebrating the news of Paige’s well earned promotion. You, however, were flagging.

It was late, and the prospect of staying out any later was making holding back a yawn nigh impossible. You’d never been a big drinker so you’d not been keeping pace with the others, a possible mistake since you seemed to lack the same energy as them, found firmly in their second wind. The last thing you wanted to do was bail but you didn’t want to bring the mood just down hanging around either.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled when you saw it was john.

>> Still awake?

<< for once yeah :p

>> What show has you gripped to binge watch late into the night this time?

You snorted.

<< out celebrating with friends, paige got promoted!!!

>> Tell her congratulations from me

>> What time does the party end?

<< idk but i’m ready for bed already 😪

<< taxi isn’t booked for another couple of hours tho :(

John’s speech bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and you watched the screen avidly.

>> Do you want me to come meet you to walk you home?

<< really??

<< would you mind? it’s late and a little cold so you don’t have to!

>> Send me the address and I’ll set off now

<< thanks john ❤️

Either John lived close or he’d ran there, as you’d only just finished telling your friends that you were leaving early when John turned up.

“You shouldn’t leave on your own, walking home at this time of night is dangerous,” Cass said worriedly, her words slurring slightly.

“I’m not, John’s meeting me to walk me home,” you said and flushed when they all cheered and whistled at the mention of his name; their catcalls gained volume and enthusiasm when John walked through the bar door a second later, head on a swivel as he looked for you in the crowd.

“Fuck off,” you hissed at your friends playfully and hugged them all goodbye before you headed over to John. He was grinning and waved happily over to your friends, nudging you when he saw the embarrassed scrunch of your shoulders.

“Good night?” He asked once you were on the path outside.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She deserved the raise like three years ago, but at least they’re finally recognising all the work she does.”

John nodded along. He cursed a moment later when he felt a few raindrops. You both looked up at the gentle patter and gasped when it quickly turned torrential.

Your walk turned into a run as John grabbed your hand tightly and led you a little shop alcove near by, shoving you under and crowding in after you.

“Shit, I should’ve driven,” he blamed himself, looking at your soggy jacket and the rain that had splattered your round cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” you waved it off. “Bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

The pair of you were pressed close, his broad shoulders and your wide hips taking up the space in the doorway enough that you were both holding your breath in each other’s space.

“Just my luck really,” you said.

“It’s just British weather,” John corrected. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting it to rain in the middle of summer,” he joked.

You laughed and felt butterflies flutter at his mirrored rumble, focused on where your stomach pressed against his. You no longer felt tired stood with him.

It went quiet, with just the soft rain and the sound of the odd car passing by the only things heard for a moment as you both held your breath, eyes locked.

You leant forward those last few inches and pressed your lips against his. Your noses bumped and you automatically lifted a hand to tilt his chin slightly to adjust, pressing your lips a little firmer when he followed your guiding hold. His hands on your hips were reverent as he let you lead.

You delighted in the scratch of his beard for a split second before suddenly flinching back, your hand becoming firm against his shoulder to keep him from following.

“Fuck,” you swore shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he huffed with a confused smile.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you insisted. You felt him lean towards you and firmed the stretch of your arm to keep him in place as best you could in the small space. “It’s mixed messages. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m still waiting,” he admitted. “I’ll wait however long y’need, Sunshine.”

You ducked your head.

“I feel guilty,” you whispered. You swallowed thickly as the reasons were finally voiced even as you avoided his eyes. “I feel like it’s Charlotte all over again for you; I’m stringing you along when you could be finding someone else. I’m— it’s not fair,” you repeated.

He leant back in shock, a frown pulling at his brows and his mouth moving silently for a moment. John looked down at you from his tucked in chin and considered your comparison, knowing the quick denial on the tip of his tongue wouldn’t soothe you.

“Have you decided that then? You don’t want to be with me?” He asked finally.

You hesitated, unable to lie and say no, and he latched onto that with a fierce hold.

You thought back to what your friends had said, the fun you’d been having with him again, how natural it all was.

“Sunshine…”

“We could take it slow?” You asked.

“Of course,” he agreed readily, pushing those few inches closer to you in eagerness. “Slow and steady, whatever you need.”

“Ok.” You nodded.

“Ok?”

“I like you, John,” you admitted almost shyly, smiling up at him. “I want to try.”

In the next breath he ducked close to kiss you again.

You were pressed against the damp, grainy wall of the little alcove as he greedily slipped a hand beneath your shirt and hungrily kissed you, not stopping for a breath or a gasp now that you’d given the go ahead.

“W-what— happened t-to,” you gasped as he filled your space and every thought. The patter of the rain going unheard as his shaky breaths filled your ears and echoed torturously. “Take— taking it s-slow?”

He sucked on your lip before pulling back and panting, swapping breaths with you. “I’m not down on one knee, am I?” He asked as though you were being obtuse.

You snorted, eyes wide in disbelief. But you didn’t push him away, instead your grip kept him close.

He dipped in for another peck and you cupped his bearded cheeks.

“My house isn’t far from here,” you suggested softly. Testing the waters.

In a flash John was dragging you out of the alcove and down the street with you laughing as you splashed through the puddles to keep up with his determined pace.

“Wrong way, John,” you laughed and tugged at his arm, directing him the to follow you and head the other way towards your house. He crowded against your back, slightly off to the side, and you felt butterflies erupt at the sound of his low chuckle as your steps overlapped and you tripped each other in eagerness.

——

Once you were safely inside your home, it didn’t take long for you to get naked and climb on the bed. You dragged John along with you, clad still in his boxers.

He hovered over you as you laid back flat, his broad palms running from your ribs to your flank soothingly as he settled between your thick thighs.

His eyes were all black, the usual greyblue just a thin strip around the edges as he took you in in all your glory.

The need to make you keen and cream on his fingers was obvious by his hungry expression and the flexing of his hold on your softest parts.

“Been wanting this for too long, Sunshine,” he whispered. “Longer than you know.”

“Think I can guess,” you gasped as he lowered himself down and kissed your stomach, making sure to cover each curve and roll as he journeyed up, keeping his warm palms cupped and dragging up your sides as he kissed between your breasts. Your knees squeezed him at the ribs when he palmed one of your tits, using the light hold to lick a broad stripe over the sensitive nipple. He went back to kissing higher, trailing up along your stretched neck and biting teasingly at your earlobe before coming face to face.

“Any preferences?” Fingers, tongue, toys.

“I’d prefer to cum sooner than later,” you said cheekily, basking in his eye roll.

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

He leant down and kissed you, plunging and messy, not like the dry brush of lips in the rain or the rushed eager swaps of spit and squished smiles on the way home and into your bedroom. You brushed your hands over his furry chest and trembled pleasantly, raking your fingers through and sighing at the strength usually hidden beneath layers of baggy and comfortable clothing.

“John,” you sighed and he shuffled his way down back between your legs.

“Just lay back and relax,” he ordered before trailing his nose through your bush, huffing in an opened-mouthed breath with a pleased hum.

“Need a map?” You joked breathily, breath hitching when he huffed an amused breath at your opening, pressing a light kiss there afterwards. His thumb gently spread your vulva and he gave a gentle kitten lick. Using the building wetness he found he trailed his thumb lower to your arsehole and kept it there with little pressure.

“Nah, this is your clit, right?” he asked teasingly. You snorted, but felt your pussy clench and your muscles tense when he added a bit of pressure.

“John—“

“Relax,” he said again. He moved his attention and his hand back up. “Don’t need a guided tour, though I appreciate the offer; wouldn’t mind watching you show me what you like another day. But I know what I’m doing, love.”

He licked a stripe up your centre and your eyes fluttered, your hips pushing up into his hands when he puckered his wet lips around your clit and gently suckled. “Yeah, you do,” you whimpered.

He slipped his middle finger inside fluidly, no resistance, and you let out a soft sigh, your hips subtly raising to get him as deep as you could. He changed the angle of his mouth so his strong nose nudged at your bundle of nerves and he could mouth at your plush wet opening instead. He licked around his finger, adding to the sticky mess as you practically sucked him in.

He could tell by the flutters of your cunt that you were enjoying yourself, the pinch of your brow only adding to his confirmation when he looked up, but you were so quiet.

“Y’can be loud for me, Sunshine,” he said, curling his finger and grinning cheshire-cat-wide when your jaw dropped at the feeling. “Don’t be shy.”

“Give me reason to,” you said with a cut off gasp. “W-work for it.”

He felt heat rush to his core, fattening his already throbbing cock.

As you wish.

He hooked one trembling thigh over his meaty shoulder and focused back on the heat between your legs; like sticky syrup, slippery between the pads of his fingers as he dipped a second finger in beside the first.

He gave you a moment to clench around the thicker intrusion with closed eyes before setting a quicker, less forgiving pace than before. You let out a surprised grunt, your hand flying down to grip his hair as he sealed his lips to your clit with a wagging tongue.

“Fuck.”

His left hand moved to keep your hips still, strapped across your soft tummy like a seatbelt, his palm a firm pressure in the soft pudge below your bellybutton.

He broke the seal of his mouth to heave in a panting breath and nibbled at the soft skin of your thigh beside his head to catch his breath while his fingers continued to pull sweet noises from you.

You whimpered softly, dropping your hands to the mattress and clinging tight to the sheets and felt your cheeks heat up when John chuckled.

“Can’t tell what I prefer hearing,” he said and paused his fingers deep inside of you, spreading them to get a little look at the desperate cling of you around his long digits. Your creamy arousal slid down the back of his hairy knuckles and he revelled in the light squelch as you wriggled in his hold, urging his fingers deeper inside. “Your sweet cunt or your careful moans.”

“Please, John,” you asked. Pleaded. “I’m close.”

He slipped his fingers free of your tight clutch and shushed you with a smile when you whined. Licking his pruny fingers clean, he groaned at the taste.

“I’ll get you there, Sunshine, don’t worry.”

He left a wet smack of a kiss on your thigh before ducking back down and licking deep and insatiable into your needy cunt, his fingers focused on your sensitive clit instead, rubbing almost too hard and too fast as your hips pushed your cunt further into his mouth. His arm kept you locked close and unable to shift away, not that you wanted it to end, but the sudden onslaught of hyper-focused attention was a lot after his teasing and after so long without a partner. Your hand had made its way to the back of his head once more, cupping gently, but urging him forward with a steel determination. He wasn’t allowed back up for air until you’d cum.

He pinched your clit and you shrieked at the nip of pain beneath the pleasure, feeling yourself tumble over the edge as he huffed and grunted into your pussy like a man starved.

John held you close by the thighs with both hands as you arched and clenched on his tongue; slobbering and groaning against your tender vulva as you cried out. He gave your thigh one light but sharp slap as you flooded his senses; sweaty and salty, the taste and scent of you.

You collapsed back with a breathy little, hnngh, and let your fingers scratch lazily through his hair where he’d rested his face in the groove of your groin.

He hummed and dragged himself further up your body before slumping over you, kissing the taste of you into the back of your mouth, ingraining it into your tongue, gums and teeth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you laughed tiredly into his mouth. “Gimme a chance.”

He smiled and ground himself against your hip. “Can’t help it, y’make me feel like a teenager.”

Your nose scrunched and he huffed a laugh. “A’right, won’t make that comparison again.”

You pecked his lips in thanks and slipped your hand down between you, gathering a glob of your own arousal between your fingers. Thoroughly lubed, you pushed your hand under the band of his boxers and rubbed the collected juices over his cock and watched his brow pinch in pleasure.

It was your turn to tease.

You leant up and kissed him open mouthed and slow, the tease of tongue against his lips as he humped against your hand, moans mingling in breaths shared.

You moved your hand lower, went to slip in a finger but he gripped your wrist tightly. You looked up with wide eyes, hand falling loose in his grip where it had stopped you in your tracks.

“No, not like that. I don’t— I don’t like—“

“That’s ok,” you interrupted his stuttering explanation, watching walls build up before your eyes that you were determined not to let solidify. He didn’t need them around you. “We can just keep doing it like before,” you offered easily with a smile and lingering kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Whatever you want.”

John guided your hand back up hesitantly, watching you as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept your fingers hovering over his cock once more and you pushed forward to rub from tip to root and back up again.

“Yeah?” You asked and watched as his shoulders relaxed again. He moved his arm to lean back on his elbow by your head and you smiled, satisfied with the show of trust. “Yeah, ok.”

You pushed against the spot just below the head of his cock, trapping it against his pubic mound and were gratified as he groaned low, like the sound was forcibly pulled out of him as he thrusted roughly against your fingers. John ducked his head and kissed you, missing the mark in his desperation and licking against the corner of your mouth instead.

You nudged your face up slightly and let him moan against your lips, quickly falling into the distraction of getting him dripping and close; pulling out all your tricks and feeling yourself get worked up in return whenever you felt him throb and pulse in your hand, his thick, hairy thighs shifting either side of yours.

He pulled back and you paused your ministrations immediately, worried you’d done something wrong again, but John hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them away from the bed and diving back towards you with a ravenous kiss.

Rolling onto his back, John tugged you into his lap so you were straddling him and for the first time in his presence a burst of hesitance connected to your weight bloomed in your chest.

You lifted up on your knees slightly to relieve some of your weight from his hips.

“Oh, John I don’t know—“

“Come ‘ere, Sunshine,” he pulled your hips back down and urged you to ride him, moving with his own frotting hips as your vulva spread to soak around his cock.

With each grind, the head nudged slightly from its foreskin and kissed your clit perfect as you tilted back. You huffed a weak moan as he slipped through your folds and the schlickschlickschlick sounds of your combined arousal mingling and frothing between your thighs had you panting and moving quicker.

Once you found your pace, one hand balanced back on his hairy thigh and the other rubbing at your clit furiously, he lifted his hands from the fat of your hips and stomach up to thumb at your nipples.

You noticed how he moaned and tensed when you slipped heavily over his sensitive tip and grinned a little meanly as you focused a careful swivel of your hips to catch your slick centre on it. You clenched and gushed over his throbbing tip as he whined, gripping you tightly to try and pull you lower.

“Close?” You asked with a breathy giggle, feeling your own legs shake with the oncoming orgasm.

You traced gentle fingers over his faded top scars beneath his thick thatch of chest hair as he groaned and leant down to kiss him. It didn’t take much longer for you both to cum, both worked up and the constant, teasing brushes at your cores were enough to gradually tip you over the edge.

His hand in your hair kept your mouths attached as you panted hot and wet, and when you broke free to the side his beard was scratchy against your nose and cheek as you shuddered on top of him.

“John, fuck.”

“Just like that, just like that,” he thrusted up in jerky little motions before stilling.

You flopped to the side a moment later, less conscious of your weight but wanting to be comfortable, and he gathered you close immediately. He tucked you under his chin with a grunt, slipping a leg over yours.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed for a week,” he groaned sleepily. You hummed happily, exhausted. He let you drift off before whispering in your ear. “Sorry this isn’t slow, Sunshine, but I won’t be going back to being friends now.”

You grinned and nuzzled closer.

“I think we should go visit my home town next, only fair you meet my crazy family too, yeah?”

John closed his eyes happily and nodded. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Though my rates are a little higher than £100.”

You pinched his thigh and laughed when he tried to squirm away with a hiss.

You kissed his neck chastely and tightened your arm around his waist, nodding off as you felt him trail a hand back and forth over your naked back.

[jazzy96scorpio]

It's V-Day 🌼🌹 could you write Pedro x reader spending their first valentine's?

Will you be my Valentine?

Chapter 1 More Than Just Flowers

Description: Love blooms in the most unexpected places when a flower shop girl [You] and a Hollywood heartthrob find a connection that's more than just skin deep.

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, explicit content, angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f), sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk, age gap, sugar daddy kink, SMUT.

Word count: 3,450

I was planning to write a fanfic with sugar daddy Pedro Pascal. So here is one with Valentine's Day. I hope so you are gonna like it. Write me your reviews❣️

You're mysterious, beautiful, a bit of shy, if you're honest with yourself. Fresh out of college, New York City is calling your name, a crazy mix of exciting and terrifying. Rent doesn't pay itself, though, so you've landed a gig at a flower shop. Not just any flower shop—this one's in the ritzy part of town, all fancy blooms and even fancier prices. It's a whole different world from your student days, but you're figuring it out. You're observant, you pick up on things others miss, and you can blend in or stand out as needed. Plus, you're learning the secret language of flowers. Each one has a meaning, a story. And you're becoming fluent.

One day, you notice him outside the shop.

Pedro Pascal. The Pedro Pascal.

Your heart does a little flutter-kick. He's even more captivating in person than on screen. Then soon after he enters the shop. Straight towards your counter.

"Good afternoon," he says, that warm, familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I need a bouquet of red roses."

"Of course," you reply, trying to sound professional, your strong composure kicking in. "For a special occasion?"

He gives a small, enigmatic smile. "Perhaps."

You get to work, selecting the most perfect, velvety roses. Your hands move deftly, arranging them into a lush, romantic bouquet. You add a touch of baby's breath and some elegant greenery. When you're finished, even you are impressed.

He watches you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "That's…very beautiful," he murmurs, taking the bouquet. "Just like you."

Your breath hitches. "Thank you," you manage, your cheeks warming slightly.

He lingers for a moment, those intense eyes holding yours. "I'm Pedro," he says, extending a hand.

"I know," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm [Y/N]."

"It's a pleasure, [Y/N]." He pauses, then adds, a touch of playful challenge in his voice,

"Perhaps I'll see you around."

And then, just like that, he leaves. Leaving you with a racing heart and the lingering scent of roses. What just happened? you wonder, your mind already replaying the encounter.

There was definitely something there, a spark… but was it just his natural charm, or something more? And what did he mean by "see you around"? Was he interested? Or just being polite? A little knot of nervous excitement tightens in your stomach. This could be interesting… or a complete disaster. Knowing your luck, probably a bit of both.

A delivery truck arrived soon after, packed to the brim with roses. "Need a hand?" you asked the driver, a young guy with a cheeky grin.

"If you're offering," he replied, giving you a once-over that made you roll your eyes internally. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be doing all this heavy lifting." He winked.

"Someone's gotta do it," you said, hoisting a box of Freedom roses. He chatted you up while you worked, the usual lines about how he'd love to take you out sometime.

He wasn't bad looking, but definitely not your type. You'd always been attracted to older men. Maybe it was the maturity, the confidence… something about the youthful energy of guys your own age just didn't do it for you. Which, you had to admit, was probably why you were still single. You'd never really been in love.

As you were carrying a particularly large box of long-stems, you glanced across the street.

And there he was. Pedro. Leaning against a sleek car, looking impossibly handsome.

Then, a woman appeared. She was stylish, laughing, and… they hugged. They kissed.

Shit. You thought. She's lucky. A pang of something you couldn't quite name went through you. I wish… you started to think, then cut yourself off. Ridiculous. You barely knew him, and that will never happen.

And then, he pulled out something from the car. The bouquet. The one you had made. He gave it to her. She beamed, clearly pleased. Of course she was.

You turned back to the truck, a little deflated. "Thanks for the help," you mumbled to the driver, who was still trying to get your number. "But I gotta get back inside."

You went back into the shop, the image of Pedro and the woman lingering in your mind. You had work to do.

💓

Closing up, mostly. The shop was quiet now, the day's rush over.It was almost the end of your shift. As you were tidying near the door, you spotted something on the floor. A wallet. You picked it up. It was leather, expensive-looking. You opened it. And there, staring back at you, was Pedro's ID.

"Oh god," you muttered, staring at Pedro's ID. You really didn't want to go through his wallet, but… what were you supposed to do? Damn it. How were you going to find him now? Calling the police meant paperwork, hassle… ugh. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated. This whole day had taken a weird, unexpected turn.

Just then, you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat. Could it be…?

You took a deep breath and walked to the door, your mind racing. You flipped the sign to "Closed" just in case. When you opened it, there he was. Pedro. Standing there, looking slightly… panicked?

"Hi," he said, his voice a little strained. "I, uh, I think I left something here."

You held up the wallet. "This?"

His face relaxed in relief. "Oh, thank god! You found it." He reached for it, and you instinctively pulled it back just a fraction.

"You're Pedro Pascal," you said, stating the obvious, but somehow needing to hear yourself say it out loud. It still felt surreal.

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged. And you're… [Y/N], right?"

You nodded.

"I'm so grateful you found this," he said,

"I was freaking out. Everything's in there."

He gave you a charming smile. "You're a lifesaver."

"It's no problem," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your insides were doing a little victory dance.

"I was just about to close up."

"Well," he said, "maybe I could… buy you a coffee or something to thank you?"

A coffee? This was actually happening.

"I… I'd like that," you managed, finally handing him his wallet.

"Great," he said. "How about we go somewhere where I don't get mobbed by fans?" He grinned. "There's a little place around the corner I like. Quiet. We can go there."

"Okay," you said, grabbing your purse and locking the door. As you walked with him around the corner, you couldn't help but think: This is insane. Just a few hours ago, you were watching him across the street, thinking how lucky the other woman was. And now, here you were, about to go for coffee with Pedro Pascal. Life was definitely full of surprises.

As you and Pedro walked around the corner, he suddenly stopped. He was staring at something in the distance, his expression hardening. You followed his gaze and saw… his girlfriend. Kissing another guy. It was far enough away that you couldn't see the other man's face clearly, but Pedro definitely recognized her.

He went still, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You instinctively knew this was bad.

Shit. you thought.

He looked at you, his eyes dark. You cursed inwardly.

Double shit.

He put his hands on his waist, as if trying to decide his next move. Then, in a move that surprised you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. "Come with me," he said, his voice low and tight.

Triple shit. What was happening? What was he going to do? He was furious, the betrayal evident in every line of his body. You were just along for the ride now, a bewildered passenger in his drama.

He started walking faster, pulling you along. You stumbled a bit, trying to keep up.

"Pedro, what are you doing?" you asked, your voice a nervous whisper.

He didn't answer. He just kept walking, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the anger radiating off him.

You reached to them. Pedro stopped abruptly. His girlfriend turned, her eyes widening in shock when she saw him. The other man looked startled, then quickly backed away.

"What the hell is this, Sofia?" Pedro's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Pedro, it's not…" she stammered.

"It's not what it looks like?" he finished, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because it looks pretty damn clear to me."

"He's just a friend," she said weakly.

Pedro let out a harsh laugh. "A friend you kiss like that?"

"You're never around anyway!" she snapped back, her voice rising. "Always working, always away. I was lonely!"

"So you find comfort in another man's arms?" he retorted, his eyes flashing.

"Look at you!" she sneered. "What did you expect? I can't waste my time with an old man like you! I don't love you anymore! I want someone who is young and who can give me attention. I just wanted fame and money, and you were a ticket. Now I have a new ticket!"

"You used me?" Pedro's voice was low, laced with hurt.

"You're damn right I did," she spat. "And now I'm done. Don't call me again."

Pedro looks like he's about to say something, but you instinctively grab his arm. This is getting ugly, and you don't want him to get dragged down any further. You pull him back slightly.

Just then, Sofia turns her venomous gaze on you. "Looks like you found yourself a cheap slut too, huh?" she sneers.

Something inside you snaps. You're not going to stand here and take this. But before you can say anything, Pedro steps in front of you, his face a mask of fury. "Don't you dare talk about her like that!" he snarls. "She has nothing to do with this. You're the one who betrayed me, not her."

He grabs your hand again and storms off, leaving Sofia fuming. You can feel the tension radiating off him, the raw emotion of betrayal and hurt.

"You still owe me that coffee," you say quietly as you walk away, trying to lighten the mood.

He looks at you, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "You're right," he says. "I do."

You go to the coffee shop, and you do your best to distract him, to comfort him.

You tell him silly stories about your life.

He listens, and slowly, the tension begins to drain. He's still hurt, you can tell, but he's also grateful for your presence, for the simple act of human connection in the middle of a messy, public breakup.

He talks about his work, the passion he has for acting, the challenges of being in the public eye. You talk about your dreams, your ambitions, the things that make you tick. You find yourself connecting with him on a level you didn't expect. He's charming, funny, and surprisingly down-to-earth. He's vulnerable, in a way that makes your heart ache for him. You find yourself wanting to protect him, to shield him from the pain Sofia inflicted.

As you left the coffee shop, he thanked you again for being there.

"If you ever need a shoulder to cry on," you said, "I'm here."

He looked at you, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Well, tonight I might need one."

"I think we could watch a movie together," he suggested.

You agreed, and he gives a genuine smile finally breaking through.

You went back to his apartment. It was huge, luxurious—fucking amazing. There was a massive TV screen. You couldn't hide your amusement.

He offered you a drink. You accepted.

"So," he said, seeming a little more relaxed, "what are we going to watch?"

"Wall-E," you said.

He laughed. "Wall-E?"

"It's my favorite," you admitted.

"It's one of mine too," he said, surprisingly.

You settled on the sofa, sipping your drinks and watching the movie. You chatted a little about yourself, your life, your dreams.

Then, you looked at him. "You shouldn't have to go through that," you said softly, referring to Sofia.

"It's not the first time," he admitted. "That's why I've been avoiding relationships."

"I get that," you said. "I've been single for years. It's fucking amazing. No stress, no worries." You paused. "Actually, I've never been in love with someone."

He looked at you, surprised. "How could a beautiful girl like you haven't found someone?"

"Well," you shrugged, "it just never happened. They all say I'm was too cold and hard to get."

He laughed.

You continued watching the movie. The ending was emotional. "I wish I could find love like that," you said. "Where you can fix each other, be patient, be best friends, and have complete trust."

He agreed saying "That's so rare nowadays, almost impossible."

You noticed he was exhausted. "I should go," you said, thanking him for the evening. You headed for the door, but he stopped you. He leaned in, as if to kiss you.

"Don't do this right now," you said gently, pulling back slightly.

He took your hand, and you could see the pain in his eyes. "Don't leave me alone tonight." he whispered.

You didn't want to hurt him more. He'd had a rough night. "I won't," you said softly.

You took his hand, and he led you to his bedroom. "Can I borrow a shirt?" you asked. You were staying the night, but only to sleep.

He found a yellow Lakers shirt. "Thanks," you said, taking it.

He left you alone to change. When he came back, he said he'd sleep on the couch.

"No, you won't," you said firmly. "You asked me to stay."

He couldn't take his eyes off you in the oversized shirt, which barely covered your waist.

You both lay down on the bed. You stared out the window. "I've never slept in a bed with a man before," you confessed quietly.

He turned to you, surprised. "Well, you're the first woman in this bed," he said.

"What about Sofia?" you asked.

"No," he said. "We usually spent time at her place."

"Well, I'm glad I'm the first woman in this bed," you said, a playful smile touching your lips. You kissed him on the cheek and turned to go to sleep. He watched you as you turned to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and even. He was amazed by you, by the way you had come into his life so unexpectedly, so powerfully. He was so impatient, his body buzzing with desire, wanting you, needing you. But he also knew he didn't want to rush things. He wanted this to be real, to be meaningful. He wanted to earn your trust, your affection. He wanted… more. He turned around, facing away from you, and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep, the image of you, so beautiful and vulnerable in his bed, burning in his mind.

He woke up first. You barely stirred as he got out of bed. He was only in his boxers.

Damn, you thought, a little spark igniting within you. That man is hot. You really wanted him.

He made coffee, the aroma filling the apartment, and brought you a cup.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you, a hint of mischief in them.

"Yeah, like a gremlin," you mumbled, still half-asleep, but a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, one beautiful gremlin," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't have any plans for the day. It's the weekend. Do you want spending it with me?"

"Sure," you said, finally opening your eyes and sitting up. "I'd like that."

You got up and made breakfast, a simple but delicious. You laughed and joked, the earlier tension melting away. It felt… comfortable. Natural. Like you’d known each other for much longer than a day. Then, the doorbell rang, shattering the easy atmosphere.

Pedro frowned and went to answer it. It was her. Sofia.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cold and flat.

"Pedro, please," she said, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears. "I made a mistake. I'm so sorry. I love you."

"You love me?" he scoffed, the hurt and anger from the previous night resurfacing. "You said some pretty harsh things last night, Sofia. Things you can't take back."

"I was angry," she pleaded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I didn't mean it. Please, give me another chance. I’ll do anything."

You stood there, a knot of anger tightening in your stomach.

She was playing the victim now, after everything she'd said, after the way she’d humiliated him.

"Get out, Sofia," Pedro said, his voice hard, unwavering.

"No," she said, stepping past him into the apartment. She saw you then, lounging in Pedro's Lakers shirt, and her eyes narrowed, jealousy and spite twisting her features.

"So, this is who you've moved on to? Some… some flower girl?"

That did it. You stepped forward, your anger finally boiling over. You were usually calm, collected, but Sofia's words, her harsh tone, pushed you over the edge.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," you said, your voice low and dangerous, a warning in every syllable.

"Or what?" Sofia sneered, her eyes flashing. "What are you going to do, flower girl? Throw some petals at me? Arrange me a nice little bouquet of 'get lost'?"

"I'll do this," you said, your voice still dangerously quiet, and before Sofia could react, you slapped her, hard, across the face. The sound echoed through the apartment.

Sofia gasped, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of remorse. They were tears of humiliation and rage. She looked at Pedro, then back at you, her face a mask of pure fury. Without another word, she turned and fled, slamming the door behind her with a resounding bang.

Pedro stared at you, his mouth slightly open, a mixture of surprise, admiration, and maybe even a little bit of awe in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed momentarily speechless.

"That's how you deal with that," you said, your adrenaline still pumping, your voice a little shaky. "I think she will not bother you anymore." you added with a wry smile.

He laughed, a genuine, hearty laugh that filled the apartment. "You're a tough one," he said, shaking his head, still chuckling. He looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," he said softly, the laughter fading, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. He reached out and gently took your hand. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice husky. "For… everything."

❤️‍🔥

He leaned in and kissed you, and you didn't want to pull back. You kissed him back, roughly, passionately, your earlier anger now fueling a different kind of fire.

His lips were insistent, demanding, and you met his passion with your own, your tongues tangling in a heated dance. He lifted you up, his arms strong and sure, and carried you to the bedroom. He shrugged off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest, and you quickly shed yours, your skin tingling with anticipation.

His kiss was fierce, possessive, a hunger in it that mirrored your own. His hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves, igniting a fire in your core. He kissed your neck, his lips tracing a burning path down to your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened into aching peaks. You, in turn, pulled down his boxers, your fingers brushing against his swollen cock, eliciting a groan from him.

His huge, thick cock was throbbing, pulsing with anticipation. You leaned closer, your tongue flicking out to taste him, swirling around the tip, savoring his heat, his size. "Mmm, you taste so good," you murmured, taking him deeper into your mouth, your hands cupping his balls, teasing them gently. He was so big you almost gagged, but you didn't stop, your right hand moving rhythmically along his length, stroking him, driving him wild. "Fuck," he groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. "You're going to make me come."

You pulled back, your lips glistening. "Not yet," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He pulled you up by your arms, his eyes burning into yours, filled with lust and desire. He kissed you again, his lips bruisingly tender, then leaned down, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

He leaned down and kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he dipped his hand on your waist, in one swift, tantalizing motion, ripped off your panties. "Mmm," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your hip.

His fingers drifted lower, exploring the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"Such a beautiful pussy."

You gasped as he reached your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He found your clit, teasing it gently, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

"You're so wet," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."

He slipped a finger inside you, slowly at first, then deeper, exploring your depths.

"God, you're tight," he groaned, his voice husky. "I can't wait to fill you up."

You moaned, arching your back, your body instinctively responding to his touch. He added another finger, then another, stroking you rhythmically, building the tension, driving you wild.

"Oh, fuck," you breathed, your nails digging into his back. "That feels so good."

He continued to caress you, his fingers dancing inside you, finding every sensitive spot, every nerve ending. You were a symphony of moans and gasps, your body trembling with pleasure. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue mirroring the rhythm of his fingers, teasing and tantalizing you until you were on the verge of climax.

"I want you inside me," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "I need you inside me, Pedro."

He looked at you, his eyes burning with passion. "You're going to get what you want," he growled, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock throbbing against your core. He pushed inside you slowly, filling you completely, stretching you, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Yes," you moaned, arching your back, meeting his thrusts. "Fuck, yes."

He began to move, his hips slamming against yours, the rhythm building, intensifying. You were soaked, dripping, your pussy aching for him. You squeezed him tightly, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Harder," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Fuck me harder, Pedro."

He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. He gripped your hips, lifting you higher, taking you deeper.

"You're mine now," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "You will belong to me."

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling with pleasure.

"I'm yours. Fuck me, Pedro. Make me yours."

He fucked you harder, faster, his thrusts driving you wild.

You squeezed him tightly, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Ride me," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "Show me how bad you want me."

You flipped him over, straddling him, and began to move, your hips grinding against his, your breasts swaying with each thrust. "Like this?" you purred, your eyes locked with his.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. "You're fucking amazing."

You rode him hard, your passion unleashed, your body consumed by pleasure. You were so close, so close…

"Cum with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Let me feel you come."

You squeezed him tightly, your inner muscles clenching around him, and then you let go, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. He followed close behind, his release a hot, shuddering rush that filled you completely.

You collapsed back onto the bed, pulling him with you. You lay there, tangled in each other's arms, your breathing ragged, your bodies still connected, the echoes of passion still reverberating between you.

He kissed you one last time, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of tenderness and affection.

"Fucking amazing," he murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

You smiled back, snuggling closer to him.

"Yeah," you agreed. "That was something I haven't never felt"

He says "Me too..this was something special."

The rest of the morning was spent in a haze of lazy contentment. You stayed in bed, tangled in each other's arms, talking, laughing, just enjoying each other's company. The earlier drama with Sofia seemed like a distant memory, a bad dream that had faded with the dawn.

Pedro was different now. He was softer, more vulnerable, more… real. The walls he had built around himself seemed to have crumbled, at least for now.

Hour later, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. "How about we get some pizza?" he suggested. "And then… we can come back here and have some more fun." He winked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Sounds perfect," you said, your heart fluttering at the thought of more time with him, more of his touch, more of his kisses. "I'm falling for you, Pedro Pascal," you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He grinned, his eyes softening. "I'm falling for you too, [Y/N]," he said, his voice husky. He leaned down and kissed you softly.

"I'm going to prepare you a bath," he said, his voice soft and warm. He kissed you gently, a lingering kiss that made your heart flutter.

While you were soaking in the warm water, he appeared at the bathroom door, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, holding up a single, perfect red rose.

You'd completely forgotten! "Oh my gosh," you exclaimed, laughing.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice playful but firm. "You're mine all day and night."

You laughed, your heart overflowing with happiness. "I wouldn't dream of going anywhere," you replied, reaching out to take the rose. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

You were falling for him, hard and fast, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. There was a connection between you, a spark that ignited every time you were near.

After you both got ready, you left for a charming little pizza restaurant. He was joking, so goofy, making you laugh until your sides hurt.

"You know," he said between bites of pizza,

"I never thought I'd find someone who appreciates a good pepperoni pizza as much as I do."

"Clearly, you haven't met many people with good taste," you teased, winking at him.

"You're right," he said, his eyes locking with yours. "I haven't. You're… different. I've never met anyone so kind and grounded."

After the restaurant, as you were passing a boutique with fancy clothes, he suddenly pulled you inside. "I'm going to buy you a nice dress for dinner tonight," he declared.

He waited patiently, a soft smile on his face, as you tried on dress after dress. You finally picked out a stunning red one. When you stepped out of the dressing room, he was genuinely amazed.

"You look… breathtaking," he whispered, his eyes filled with admiration. "Absolutely breathtaking."

After that, he showered you with kisses and bought you more things—a delicate necklace, a beautiful purse.

"Pedro, you don't need to do this," you protested gently. "I'm not some material girl."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "But I want to. I want to spoil you. You deserve it." He looked at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"I'm so happy I have the chance to spend time with you. I'm really lucky… and happy."

You blushed, your heart swelling with affection. "Me too," you whispered. "I feel so lucky thay I finally met you."

After all the shopping, you went for coffee, and that's when the paparazzi appeared, swarming you with questions. They were intrusive, annoying, flashing cameras in your faces. Pedro was visibly irritated, but he tried to stay calm. He put his arm around you protectively.

"No comment," he said repeatedly, trying to shield you from the barrage of questions. You quickly got into his car and drove away, leaving the paparazzi behind.

Back at his apartment, he sighed. "That was a bit much," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I need to get some things done. I'll be back before dinner to pick you up. Get ready. We're going out."

He kissed you softly. "And don't worry about those vultures," he said, a glint in his eye. "I'll handle them."

He left, and you started getting ready, wanting to look your absolute best. You slipped into a stunning red dress that made you feel both powerful and vulnerable, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. A couple of hours later, he returned. His eyes widened as he took you in, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Wow," he breathed, his gaze lingering on you. "You look absolutely stunning. Like a goddess. A vision in red." He kissed you, a gentle, lingering kiss that made your heart flutter.

"I'll just be a few minutes," he said, his voice husky.

"Don't keep me waiting too long" you say.

"I won't," he replied, a playful smile on his lips.

You watched him as he was getting ready. What a pleasure for your eyes.

He quickly changed, and then you were off to a truly elegant restaurant. The ambiance was perfect, the food divine, but the best part was the conversation. It flowed effortlessly between you, as if you were two halves of a whole, finally reunited. It seemed like you were meant to be, two souls who had found solace and understanding in each other.

"I feel like I've known you forever," he said, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Me too," you replied, your heart echoing his sentiment. "It's… it's like finally finding something uniquely."

After dinner, as you walked back to the car, your heels started to protest.

"These heels are killing me," you groaned, "I'm more of a sneaker girl, you know."

He immediately crouched down. "Then let me take care of my lady," he said, gently removing your shoes.

He then scooped you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly.

"Pedro!" you exclaimed, surprised and delighted. "Someone's going to see us!"

He just smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Let them see. I'm proud to be seen with you." He kissed you softly, then carried you all the way to the car.

Back at his apartment, the air crackled with anticipation. As soon as you closed the door, he kissed you hard, his passion igniting yours. He was impatient all night, his desire for you palpable. He helped you with your dress, his fingers trailing down your zipper, teasing your bare skin beneath.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I can't wait to have you."

You, in turn, helped him with his shirt, your hands lingering on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "You're making me crazy too," you whispered back, your eyes locked with his.

You quickly unbuckled his belt, your fingers brushing against his hard cock, eliciting a groan from him. You pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his throbbing erection. You kissed him again, passionately, your tongue dancing with his. You teased his tip with your fingers, circling him gently, eliciting another groan. "You're so sensitive," you murmured, "I love it."

He then lifted you up, his arms strong and sure, and carried you to the bed. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, then trailed kisses down your neck, your breasts, teasing your nipples.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I want to taste you everywhere." He entered you slowly, from the side, savoring every inch of you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. "So fucking tight."

He cupped your breasts in his large hands, teasing them, squeezing them gently, driving you wild. "Yes," you moaned, arching your back, meeting his thrusts. "Fuck, yes."

He then shifted, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking perfect pussy."

He pulled out slightly, then pinned you down to the bed, his eyes burning into yours.

"Lift your hips for me," he commanded, his voice rough and possessive.

You arched your back, offering yourself to him. He grabbed your ass cheeks, his grip firm, and entered you again, this time harder, deeper, filling you completely. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, as he pushed past your entrance, filling you to the hilt.

Your pussy squeezed him tightly, milking his cock with your juices.

"You're so wet," he groaned. He rubbed your clit with his right hand, his fingers expertly teasing you, bringing you closer to the edge. You moaned, screaming his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

"Pedro! Oh, Pedro!" He came inside you, his release a hot, shuddering rush that filled you completely. "Mine," he whispered, his voice thick with passion. "You're mine."

He kissed you gently and helped you get cleaned up, his touch tender and caring. You fell asleep in each other's arms, feeling safe and content.

The next morning, he woke you up with soft kisses. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he murmured, his voice warm. "If you could make us some pancakes… I'd be so much grateful. I love your pancakes."

You agreed, of course. You enjoyed cooking for him, the simple act of preparing his favorite breakfast filling you with a sense of warmth and affection. You made a batch of fluffy pancakes with fresh berries, and you enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together, laughing and talking.

"I have to go to work," you said reluctantly, as you finished the last bite.

"I'll drive you," he offered. He paused, then added, "This week is going to be crazy. I'm filming for SNL."

"I know," you said, a tinge of sadness in your voice. "I wish we could have spent more time together. This weekend was… amazing."

He took your hand, his eyes filled with sincerity. "We'll have more moments like this," he promised. "I want this… I want this to last." He kissed you, a lingering kiss that made your heart melt.

"I really like you, Pedro," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "And I think… I think I'm falling in love. For the first time in my life."

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Me too, [Y/ N]," he said, his voice husky. "I've never felt like this before. You're… you're everything I never knew I was looking for. You make me happy. You make me feel… complete."

He drove you to work, kissed you goodbye, and then you parted ways. As you walked into the flower shop, you were filled with a mix of joy and apprehension. You were so happy, so deeply infatuated with Pedro. You truly believed you were falling in love. But a small voice of doubt whispered in the back of your mind. Could this really last? You were from two different worlds. He was a famous actor, constantly in the public eye, his life a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. You were a flower shop girl, your life grounded in the simple beauty of everyday things. Could you bridge the gap between your two worlds? Could you make it work? Only time would tell.

Thank you for your reading ❣️

[ihyuka]

Of regrets and other tells | Choi Soobin

summary: Soobin has been building his acting career for years. Sacrificing his time and personal life in more aspects than one, holding onto a broken heart for over 5 years, and perpetually wishing his past relationship didn't end the way it did. Now, he's gotten an imminent return to his hometown thanks to a wedding, the high possibility of seeing his ex (Very possible because she's the groom's sister), and oh, it turns out the groom doesn't know he ever dated his sister. A recipe for disaster

word count: 11.5k

pairing: soobin x female reader

warnings: exes to lovers (sort of), brother's best friend, taehyun is our matchmaker bec he adores his friends, yeonjun is oblivious, tiny bit of angst, soobin is a sweetheart, they're Overthinkers, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, cute and soft love making, unprotected sex, they have feelings for each other, reader can be nasty at times (soobin isn't doing any better tbh), huh, i hope i'm not forgetting something☝️

note: happy valentine’s day! 💕 welcome to my blog!

this idea has been sitting in my drafts forever, so i’m really excited to finally bring it to life today. i’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments (and please be nice—this is my first time posting 🫣).

i hope you enjoy this story! it’s slightly inspired by those classic early 2000s rom-coms we all love. also, english isn’t my first language, so please excuse any mistakes—i’m working on improving!

Soobin doesn’t know what to do with himself.

The first glance had him intrigued. The second? Addicted.

Here’s the thing—he’s known you all his life. He was always the kid befriending older guys at school, constantly seeking the company of those ahead of him. He loved it. Until, of course, life happened. One by one, his friends left for university, leaving him behind for one last year of high school. It wasn’t all bad, though—because that’s when he met you.

Yeonjun’s little sister. A friend of his. Someone his age who helped him adjust to a new social scene, introducing him to people and boosting his confidence. You were always there. Always helping. And now? Now he hasn’t seen you in years. He has a life in Seoul. He’s moved on.

Or so he thought.

Because the moment he sees you in that red dress, smiling, radiant, otherworldly—he realizes something painful and undeniable.

He’s so fucked.

And worse? He’s dated you before.

He’s so, so fucked. Yeonjun is going to kill him.

Soobin is hyper-aware of his surroundings.

He always is. It comes with the territory of being a high-profile actor. He’s gotten used to sneaking around, blending into crowds, avoiding unnecessary attention. Weddings in South Korea, though, are practically public events. The worst place to hide. He’s trying to be subtle—maybe if he stands still long enough, he’ll blend into the walls.

“Hi?”

He freezes. He knows that voice anywhere. Familiar, warm—like home. And like regret.

It’s you.

It’s ridiculous, really. He’s standing there, towering over everyone, wearing sunglasses in the middle of December, looking every bit as awkward as he feels.

“Um, hi?” His voice comes out strained, awkward. God, why can’t this be easier? “How have you been?”

What a stupid question. He hasn’t seen you in five years. You both took different paths, built your lives apart. He dated you for two months, so why does it feel like he can’t breathe now that you’re standing in front of him?

“Good.” You smile. “Let’s not make this weird, shall we? It’s been a long time.”

You’re so over him.

And he’s regretting everything.

“Okay,” he says softly. “I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

And just like that, you’re gone. Someone calls your name, and you walk away.

Fuck.

That’s the only thing running through your mind, too.

Why did he have to be this attractive? You had a plan. Approach him, make small talk, prove to yourself you were over him. That was it. But the second you saw him? Plan out the window. He looked unfairly good—taller, broader, blonde. Blonde. What kind of sick joke was this?

And thankfully, mercifully, he didn’t notice the way you reacted.

God, you’re so fucked.

Soobin tells himself he’s fine.

He gave his speech as best man. He made people laugh. He shared embarrassing photos of Yeonjun for everyone’s amusement. He did his job.

But now? Now he’s pissed.

And he knows he shouldn’t be.

You aren’t his. You haven’t been his in years. Even if you were, he doesn’t own you. He understands that—logically. But watching some guy dance too close to you, hands lingering where they shouldn’t—his instincts are screaming.

He knows that look. The same one he’s giving you now. Hunger. Want. Need.

Maybe the guy is your boyfriend. Maybe he isn’t. All Soobin knows is that he hates him.

“Why aren’t you dancing with her if you want her so much?” Taehyun’s voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. Ever the straightforward one, Taehyun has had the front-row seat to Soobin’s misery for the past five years.

“I don’t deserve her.” The words come out bitter. Regretful. “I broke her heart.”

“Maybe. But she still wants you to try.” Taehyun doesn’t hesitate. “She’s dancing nonstop with Jihoon, but everyone knows he’s chasing her, not the other way around. This isn’t like her. She’s doing this because of you.”

Soobin swallows hard.

“Besides,” Taehyun adds casually, “she told Yeonjun about you two this morning.”

Cold dread washes over him. “What?”

Taehyun shrugs. “I overheard. You know that tree in front of their house? They were talking there.”

“So what did he say?” Soobin asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“No clue. I had to get to work.”

Soobin groans. “How do you just drop information like that and leave?”

“Because I trust you’ll figure it out.” Taehyun smirks. “Now go get your girl. She’s drunk, and she looks done with that guy.”

Soobin didn’t think it through.

You were drunk, and all he wanted was to get you somewhere safe. A chair—that was the plan. That should have been enough. But then you whined about wanting your bed, and Yeonjun, in a rare moment of brotherly responsibility, decided Soobin was the best person to handle it.

“The party’s ending soon, and I’m leaving for Japan tomorrow,” Yeonjun had said, handing you over like you weren’t his problem anymore. “Just drop her at her apartment.”

And that’s how Soobin found himself here—standing in your building’s dimly lit hallway at an ungodly hour, praying to every higher power that no one was following him. The last thing either of you needed was for the media to sniff this out.

Not that he was worried about himself.

It was you. You, who deserved a normal life. You, who had worked so hard to distance yourself from him, from his world. And yet, here you were, tangled up in his orbit again.

And here’s another thing: you’re just as bad as Yeonjun when it comes to alcohol. Soobin knows this. He also knows you have a soft spot for that fruity soju, the kind that creeps up on you before you even realize you’ve had too much. And he knows you’re probably going to feel sick soon, which is why, in the worst decision he’s made today, he stays.

You’ve been awake for an hour now, your body heavy with the aftermath of last night. The alcohol is gone, drained from your system, but the discomfort lingers—hunger gnawing at your stomach, the stale aftertaste of regret coating your tongue.

You should get up.

You should get water.

But the thought of stepping into an empty apartment makes your chest tighten.

The memory of his hands—gentle as he guided you to bed, careful as he removed your shoes—lingers. He was being nice. That’s all. He was being nice.

God, you still like him.

Five years, and you still haven’t gotten over a man. Two months were all it took for him to ruin you, to make every fleeting touch feel like a shock to your system. You’ve tried. You’ve moved forward. And yet, here you are, terrified of facing an empty space because for a moment—just a moment—he had been here again.

Your breakup had been your fault.

You tell yourself that, over and over.

You were young—barely nineteen, selfish, and desperate for attention. Soobin was chasing his dream, working himself to the bone between university and his company’s relentless trainee schedule. He had asked you to understand. He had begged you to wait. But you got tired. You fought. And the cracks in your heart never quite mended after that.

Soobin has only slept for four hours before deciding he should leave something behind for you—a quiet, impersonal gesture. Some homemade food. A note about how busy he is, how he can’t stay, but he hopes you feel better.

That’s the plan.

And that’s what he’s thinking as he stands in your kitchen, stirring ramen—the closest thing to homemade comfort he can manage.

But then you appear.

The dress from last night is gone, replaced by something that barely qualifies as pajamas. Soobin freezes, spoon clattering against the pot.

December. It’s December, and you’re walking around like this?

Jesus Christ.

“Hi,” he says, clearing his throat. “I made ramen. I hope you’re hungry.”

You don’t answer right away, moving past him to grab a glass of water. He watches as you take a slow sip, the silence stretching between you.

Then, softly, “I’m sorry. For last night.”

Soobin shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I do,” you insist. “I can handle my alcohol better now. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“But I wanted to.” The words slip out before he can stop them. Too honest.

You pause. Then: “Add an egg. They’re on the top shelf.”

It’s not quite an acknowledgment. Not quite forgiveness. But you move to set the table for two without another word, and Soobin understands. He’s staying.

There are things that need to be said.

And it’s not safe for him to leave. You know that. The cameras follow him everywhere. You’d never risk him like that—not after everything.

“It’s done,” he says, bringing the pot to the table. “But I should—”

“Don’t,” you cut in. Your voice is steady, decisive. “The cameras could be outside. Stay.” A pause. Then, softer, “Besides… we need to talk.”

Easier said than done.

The ramen sits between you, steam curling into the air. Neither of you moves to eat.

Soobin watches as you fidget with the edge of your sleeve, pressing the fabric between your fingers like it’s something to hold onto. It’s a nervous habit—one he remembers all too well.

You’re the first to break the silence.

“So… How have you been?”

It’s a ridiculous question. Too small for the weight between you. Too casual for two people who haven’t spoken in years.

Soobin exhales, forcing a small smile. “Busy.”

That much is obvious. His face is everywhere—billboards, magazine covers, TV screens. He’s the one people stop in the streets, the one whose name is whispered in admiration or envy.

But you nod like you don’t already know, like you haven’t seen his face staring back at you from the glossy pages of magazines while waiting in line for coffee.

You reach for your chopsticks, stirring the noodles absently. “And… are you happy?”

That question lands heavier. He doesn’t answer right away.

He should say yes.

He should tell you that everything worked out, that he got everything he wanted, that all the sacrifices were worth it.

Instead, he looks at you—the way you avoid his gaze, the way your fingers tremble slightly before you curl them into a fist—and he tells the truth.

“I don’t know.”

Your breath hitches, but you recover quickly, schooling your features into something unreadable.

You look away, pretending to be focused on your bowl. “I thought you would be.”

Soobin swallows. “I thought you would be, too.”

That gets you. Your fingers tighten around your chopsticks, but you don’t say anything right away.

Soobin leans forward slightly, watching you carefully. “You left first,” he says, quiet but firm. “I waited. I called. And then, one day, you just weren’t there anymore.”

You let out a slow breath, finally meeting his eyes. “And if I had stayed?”

The question is quiet. Almost a whisper.

Soobin blinks. “What?”

“If I had stayed.” You search his face like you’re looking for something—confirmation, maybe. Closure. “Would anything have changed?”

The answer sits heavy on his tongue.

Would it have?

Back then, he was young and hungry, chasing a dream he wasn’t sure he’d ever catch. He was terrified of losing you, but he was also terrified of failing—of choosing wrong, of looking back one day and realizing he had given up too much.

And you—God, you just wanted him. Not the future version of him, not the one he was still trying to become. You just wanted the boy who used to walk you home, the one who held your hand under the table, the one who promised to love you even when things got hard.

Soobin looks at you now, older, sharper, still devastatingly familiar.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

You let out a soft, humorless laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah,” you murmur. “Me neither.”

The room settles into silence again, but this time, it’s different. Softer.

Soobin watches as you finally take a bite of your ramen, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment at the warmth.

And maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s too late.

But for the first time in five years, you’re sitting across from each other, sharing something that feels dangerously close to peace.

And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

“You should go.”

The words taste like regret the moment they leave your lips.

Soobin stills. His chopsticks pause midair before he lowers them onto the table with agonizing slowness.

His eyes meet yours, searching. “You really want that?”

You inhale sharply, willing yourself to hold his gaze. “Yes.”

A lie.

But you say it anyway, because it’s easier than admitting the truth—that his presence is unraveling you piece by piece. That sitting across from him like this, pretending there isn’t history between you, is torture.

Soobin exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Right.” He pushes his chair back, standing. “I should’ve known.”

He’s hurt. You can see it in the tight set of his jaw, the way his fingers twitch at his sides. And it makes you want to take it back—swallow the words down and tell him to stay.

But you don’t.

You stay seated, gripping your hands together in your lap as he walks toward the door.

He hesitates.

For a moment, it feels like the universe is holding its breath.

Then, his voice—low, steady. “Why do you always do this?”

Your head snaps up. “Do what?”

“Push me away.”

You freeze.

Soobin turns, expression unreadable. “I don’t get it. You let me take care of you. You let me stay. And now you want me to leave?” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Is this a game to you?”

Your stomach twists. “No.”

“Then what is it?” His voice rises slightly, frustration seeping through. “Because I don’t know what you want from me, and I don’t think you do either.”

Your heart pounds. “I just—” You stop, exhaling shakily. “It’s not that simple, Soobin.”

“It could be.” His gaze softens. “If you let it.”

You shake your head. “You don’t understand—”

“Then make me understand.”

The words cut through the air between you, heavy and full of something you’re not ready to name.

You swallow, feeling exposed. “I don’t want to need you,” you whisper.

Soobin’s expression shifts. He steps closer. “Why?”

“Because it’s dangerous.” Your voice shakes. “Because I’ve spent years trying to forget what it felt like to love you, and every time you’re near, I realize I never really stopped.”

Silence.

Then, Soobin exhales sharply. “You think you were the only one?”

Your breath catches.

“I tried,” he admits. “I tried moving on. I tried pretending you weren’t the best thing that ever happened to me. But it never worked.” His voice drops lower, more vulnerable. “You never left me, _____. Not really.”

You feel yourself crumbling, breaking open under his words.

“So tell me,” he continues, stepping even closer. “Do you really want me to leave?”

You open your mouth—

But the answer is already written all over your face.

And Soobin sees it.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts a hand, his fingertips ghosting over yours on the table. “If you tell me to go,” he says softly, “I will.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling shakily.

Then—

You flip your hand over, letting your fingers intertwine with his.

“You should stay.”

Soobin exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for years.

And this time—

He does.

Soobin stays.

Neither of you says much after that. The weight of your confession lingers in the air between you, delicate and fragile, like glass that could shatter at any second. But neither of you runs.

Instead, you sit there, sharing ramen in comfortable silence, the steam curling between you like something unspoken. His fingers, warm and steady, never fully leave yours—not gripping, not demanding, just there. A quiet promise.

You don’t sleep much.

Even after the bowls are empty, after he insists on washing the dishes, after you both linger in the doorway of your bedroom—uncertain but unwilling to let go—you just lie there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the city outside.

Somewhere in the other room, Soobin is asleep on your couch.

Or at least, you think he is.

You don’t have the courage to check.

By the time morning comes, you’re still lying in the same position, arms curled under your pillow, the weight of last night pressing down on your chest.

You should get up.

But then—

A soft knock at your door.

You inhale sharply, heart stuttering.

Then, his voice, groggy, uncertain. “Are you awake?”

You swallow. Your fingers curl into the sheets.

You shouldn’t answer. You should pretend you’re asleep, give yourself time to think. But your voice betrays you before your brain catches up.

“Yeah.”

A pause. Then—

The door creaks open.

Soobin stands there, sleep-rumpled and unfairly attractive in the dim morning light. His hoodie hangs loose on his frame, his blonde hair a tousled mess. He looks softer like this—less like the untouchable actor everyone knows, and more like the boy you once loved.

Still love.

He hesitates, fingers gripping the edge of the doorframe. “Can I…?”

You nod before he can finish the question.

And just like that, he steps inside, quiet, careful.

The bed dips under his weight as he sits at the edge, close but not too close. He rubs a hand over his face, sighing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits, voice low.

You exhale, shifting onto your side to face him. “Me neither.”

A small, tired smile flickers across his lips. “Figures.”

Silence stretches between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s just… there. Something old and familiar. Something neither of you knows what to do with.

Then, softly—

“Did you mean it?”

You freeze.

His voice is careful, like he’s afraid of the answer.

You know what he’s asking.

You could lie. You could say it was the alcohol, or the moment, or the past clouding your judgment.

But you don’t.

“Yeah.”

Soobin exhales, shoulders sinking like he’s been carrying the weight of that answer for years.

Then—hesitantly, slowly—he lifts a hand, brushing his fingers against yours on the sheets.

And this time, you don’t pull away.

Not when his fingers trace over your palm. Not when his touch lingers, warm and sure.

Not when he whispers, so quiet you almost miss it—

“Then don’t make me leave.”

The air between you is thick, suffocating. The moment you told him to stay, the balance shifted. The door remains closed, the walls pressing in, the weight of years apart and the lies you’ve told yourselves coiling tighter and tighter.

Soobin doesn’t let go of your hand. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t move closer either. He’s waiting. For what? For you to give in? For you to push him away again?

You don’t know. But you know this: you can’t breathe.

He exhales sharply, like he’s been holding back words he doesn’t trust himself to say. “I don’t know how to do this with you.”

“Do what?” Your voice barely makes it past your lips. Your fingers twitch in his grip, and that alone has his jaw tightening.

“Pretend,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against the pulse point of your wrist. His voice is quiet, careful, but there’s an undercurrent of something dangerous. “Pretend that I’m okay. That seeing you doesn’t do something to me. That I haven’t spent the past five years wondering if you ever thought about me, too.”

Your breath stutters, but you force yourself to keep looking at him. “Soobin—”

“I should hate you.” His voice is steadier now, but his grip on your hand betrays him. Tight, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. “Do you know that?”

You swallow. “I know.”

“I tried.” He lets out a sharp laugh, bitter and tired. “God, I fucking tried.”

“So did I,” you whisper. “I tried forgetting you, too.”

His fingers tighten around yours. “Did it work?”

“No.”

The word sits heavy in the air, and for a moment, neither of you move. The ramen has gone cold. The room feels smaller. Your heart is a hammer against your ribs, and still, he doesn’t let go.

Then, his eyes flicker downward—just for a second. To your lips.

And that’s when you do it.

You rip your hand from his and step back, breathing uneven. “This isn’t fair.”

Soobin looks at you like you’ve just torn something out of him. “No. It’s not.”

You turn away, hands trembling as you grip the edge of the counter. “We’re not kids anymore. We can’t just—just fall back into whatever this is.”

“What is this, then?” His voice is lower now, rough, frayed at the edges. “Tell me. Because I think about you, and it makes me fucking sick how much I still—”

He stops himself. He presses his lips together so tightly it looks painful. He takes a deep breath, then another. But it doesn’t help. You can see it. The storm in his eyes. The anger. The longing.

You shake your head, pushing down everything clawing its way up your throat. “You should go.”

“No.”

You whip around. “Soobin—”

“No.” He steps forward, and this time, you’re the one who freezes. He towers over you, his presence burning into your skin. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to pull me back in just to push me away again.”

His voice drops lower, dangerously soft. “I stayed away for five years. I did what you wanted. I let you go. And now you tell me to stay, and then you tell me to leave?”

You close your eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He exhales sharply. Then, after a long pause, he whispers, “Neither do I.”

Another silence. But this one is different.

You open your eyes, and he’s right there. Close enough to touch. Close enough that you can see the way his lashes tremble, the way his fingers curl into fists at his sides like he’s physically holding himself back.

And you can feel it—

The breaking point.

It’s coming.

His breath catches. His fingers flex against the fabric of his hoodie, knuckles whitening like he’s barely holding himself back.

His silence is unbearable, but you don’t know how to fix it.

So you move before you can talk yourself out of it.

Slowly, carefully, you reach for his hand, mirroring the way he was holding you. Just a brush of your fingertips at first, testing, waiting—until he lets out a shaky exhale and turns his palm over to catch you.

Your fingers intertwine again, the simplest thing in the world.

Soobin's voice is hoarse when he speaks. "Tell me what you want."

"I don’t know," you admit. "I don’t know if I can do this again. If I can survive losing you twice."

Something flickers in his expression—something raw, breaking.

"I never wanted you to lose me."

"Then why did it feel like I had to?"

Soobin squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over the ridges of your knuckles. His voice is unsteady when he says, "Because I was scared. Of ruining things. Of choosing wrong."

"And now?"

Now.

Soobin doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he lifts your joined hands, pressing his forehead to the back of yours like he’s trying to ground himself. You can feel the unspoken words vibrating against your skin, seeping through his touch.

Now, he's still scared. But more than that—he doesn’t want to lose you again.

His lips part, breath warm against your skin. "I think I've been in love with you this whole time."

Your heart stops.

Then—before you can overthink it, before logic creeps in and tears this moment apart—you let go of his hand.

Only to reach for his face.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him in, and before you can fully process what you're doing, your lips brush against his.

Soft. Tentative.

The moment you start to pull away, Soobin makes a sound—low and desperate in the back of his throat—and suddenly, he's kissing you like he's afraid you'll disappear.

His hands are warm when they cup your face, tilting your head so he can deepen the kiss, so he can drink you in like he’s been starving for you.

And maybe he has.

Maybe you have, too.

The past and the present blur together, all the years apart collapsing into this one unbearable, impossible moment.

And when you finally break apart, forehead resting against his, breaths mingling in the quiet night, you realize something terrifying.

Loving him was never the problem.

It was surviving it that scared you.

And now?

Now, you're not sure you care about surviving at all.

Soobin can’t stop kissing you.

It’s reckless. Messy. A raw, consuming need that shakes through him, leaves him breathless, leaves you breathless. His fingers dig into your waist like he needs something to hold onto, something to tether himself to reality, because this—this doesn’t feel real. It feels like something forbidden, like something he shouldn’t have, but is taking anyway.

It’s crazy. It’s physically impossible for him to stop.

And you don’t want him to.

Your hands are in his hair, tugging, nails scratching lightly against his scalp, and he shudders. His lips press harder, deeper, stealing the air from your lungs, but you don’t care. You’d let him. You’d give it to him.

Then you whimper. Just the softest, neediest sound—one you didn’t mean to make, one you probably don’t even realize you made.

How dare you.

Soobin groans against your mouth, low and guttural, and suddenly, his hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, pressing you closer, closer, like there will never be enough space between you to satisfy him.

"Please," you breathe, and it’s wrecked.

His lips hover just above yours, his forehead resting against yours as he exhales sharply. His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded, but there’s something else, something deeper—like he’s drowning in you and has no desire to come up for air.

"Fuck," he mutters, his voice rough, strained. Your name follows, dripping from his lips like a prayer. "You need to stop making those sounds." He swallows hard, his jaw clenched. "Unless you want another thing."

Another thing.

You shiver, your fingers curling around the fabric of his hoodie, barely keeping yourself grounded.

But Soobin doesn’t stop. His lips keep finding yours between words, between breaths, and god—he kisses like he’s never going to get the chance again. Soft, then rough, then soft again. Like he’s caught in between worshipping you and ruining you.

And then you moan.

A real moan. Not soft. Not restrained. A full, broken, breathless moan.

And that’s it. That’s the end of his control.

Soobin curses under his breath, something low, something desperate. Then suddenly, he shifts—presses you down, his body covering yours completely. His hands, once hesitant, now move like they have a purpose, sliding up, gripping, mapping out every inch of you like he’s memorizing it.

His lips are everywhere now—your jaw, your throat, your collarbone—hot and lingering, teeth grazing, tongue soothing.

"God," he breathes against your skin. "You don’t—" He presses another kiss just beneath your ear, his voice unraveling. "You don’t get it, do you?"

You can barely think, barely form words. "Get what?"

"How long—" He exhales sharply, his breath fanning against your skin. "How long I’ve wanted this."

Your chest tightens. "Then why—"

"Because I was a fucking coward," he admits, voice thick, raw. His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are unreadable—too many things crashing together at once. Lust. Longing. Something deeper. Something dangerous. "But I can’t be, not right now. Not when you’re—"

You kiss him before he can finish.

Because you don’t want to hear whatever doubt lingers in his words. Not now. Not when his body is so warm, not when his lips taste like regret and longing and every single thing you’ve ever tried to suppress.

Soobin groans into your mouth, deep and ruined, and it sets you on fire.

And the worst part?

You know this won’t be enough.

It never will be.

"Stop moving," Soobin growls against your neck. His voice is low, strained, barely holding together. His lips are hot where they press into your skin, and his hands—god, his hands—grip your waist like you’re something fragile, something he’s trying so hard not to break.

But you don’t make it easy for him.

You shift again, just the slightest movement, but it’s enough. Enough for him to tighten his grip, enough for him to press his hips just a little closer, enough for his breath to come out sharp, ragged.

"Or what?" you ask, breathless, teasing, your voice tinged with something dangerous.

You know exactly what you’re doing.

His eyes flick up to yours, dark, heavy, filled with something that makes your stomach flip. And it’s only then that you realize just how close his face is to yours—how you can feel every unsteady breath he takes, how the heat between you feels unbearable, suffocating in the best possible way.

Your lips are swollen, kiss-bruised, and when his gaze drops to them, his jaw clenches.

"Or you’re going to regret it," he murmurs, voice rough, thick with a warning you know he fully intends to follow through on.

But you don’t stop.

Maybe you want to push him. Maybe you want to see what happens when he snaps.

So you shift again, just the tiniest bit, your knee brushing against his thigh, your fingers ghosting over the fabric of his hoodie. Innocent movements, but not really. Not when his breath stutters, not when his fingers twitch against your waist like he’s barely holding himself back.

"Soobin," you whisper, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for, but you can feel the shift in the air between you. Heavy. Charged. Unforgiving.

His hand moves suddenly, gripping your chin, tilting your face up until there’s nowhere to look but at him. His thumb brushes the edge of your bottom lip, and his breath is uneven, his restraint hanging by a thread.

"Do you even know what you’re doing to me?" he asks, his voice low, almost desperate.

And before you can answer, before you can even think, his lips are back on yours.

But this time, it’s different.

This time, it’s not just desperate—it’s deliberate. It’s slow, like he wants you to feel every second of it, every inch of the way he kisses you, the way he presses against you.

Like he’s trying to prove something.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re about to find out exactly what happens when you push him too far.

You moan again.

It’s soft, wrecked, the kind of sound that makes his restraint snap like a thread pulled too tight.

The heat between you is suffocating. You’re burning, aching, every nerve in your body hypersensitive to the way Soobin touches you—like he needs to, like he has no choice.

His breathing is ragged, uneven, his grip on you tightening as if you might slip away.

"Fucking hell, ___," he rasps, voice dark, rough, filled with something dangerous. "Be clear. What do you want now? What do you fucking want?"

His forehead presses to yours, his lips ghosting over your mouth but never quite kissing you, torturing you with the distance. His fingers dig into your waist like he’s barely holding himself back.

"You," you whisper, the word breaking apart in your throat. It’s desperate, needy. You don’t care.

Something shifts.

Soobin exhales sharply, a curse slipping past his lips before he finally—finally—loses the control he was clinging to.

His mouth crashes into yours, rough, insatiable, as if he’s been starving for you and is only now letting himself feast. His hands roam your body, urgent but reverent, like he’s trying to map out every inch of you, trying to commit this moment to memory.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, to drink you in. His pupils are blown wide, his lips swollen and glistening.

"I shouldn't be thinking about you the way I do," he murmurs, his voice almost unsteady. "You make me so fucking crazy."

His lips trail down your neck, hot, open-mouthed kisses pressed into your skin, each one sending a shiver down your spine. His teeth graze your collarbone, and your breath catches.

"That red dress you wore yesterday—fuck." His voice is barely controlled, like the thought alone is unraveling him. "At your brother’s wedding… you have no idea what you did to me."

His hands slide lower, skimming the curve of your waist, gripping you like you belong to him. His mouth follows the path of his hands, kissing, tasting, worshiping.

"You were always beautiful," he breathes against your skin, voice thick with something deeper than lust. "You always were. But yesterday... yesterday, you were fucking stunning."

He pulls back just slightly, his breath hot against your chest. His hands settle over your ribs, thumbs grazing sensitive skin, just barely there, just enough to drive you insane.

And then he stills. Waiting.

"Can I touch you here?" he asks, his voice lower now, raspier, the last shreds of his restraint hanging by a thread.

You shudder. There’s no hesitation.

"Yes."

It comes out breathless, desperate.

The second the word leaves your lips, his hands move—slow, deliberate, fingertips dragging over your skin like he wants to savor every reaction, every tremor that runs through you.

Like he wants you to feel every single second of it.

Soobin takes his time.

He isn’t just exploring you—he’s worshiping. Every inch of your skin is sacred under his touch, and he treats it like something to be memorized. His fingers drag over your ribs, featherlight, teasing. His lips trace slow, reverent paths down your collarbone, pressing kisses that feel more like devotions.

"I'm gonna take these off, okay?" he murmurs, fingers slipping beneath the straps of your bra.

You can only nod, breathless, as he peels the fabric away, eyes darkening at the sight of you. He exhales sharply, almost in disbelief, his hands hesitating like he needs a second to take it all in.

"These are so pretty," he whispers, voice rough. His fingers graze over you, barely there. Then firmer. His thumb flicks over one peak, and you shudder. "Fucking missed them. So much."

His lips replace his fingers, hot and wet and needy. He sucks, licks, nips—his mouth working you over like he's making up for lost time.

"God," he groans against your skin, his voice half-wrecked. "They didn’t look this full before."

The moan that leaves your lips is absolutely shameful—high-pitched, desperate, almost embarrassing. But you don’t care.

Soobin definitely doesn’t care.

He groans at the sound, his grip tightening as if he's trying to steady himself. But then he does it again—scraping his teeth lightly against you, his tongue soothing over the sting, sucking just enough to make you whimper.

"Shit," he breathes, voice shaking. "You're too good. Too fucking good."

He looks up at you, eyes burning. And then he does it again.

And again.

Until you're nothing but gasps and shivers and pure, unbearable need.

"Please," you whimper, your voice barely more than a breath. "Please."

Soobin’s lips hover just above your skin, his breath warm against your cheek. He doesn’t move, doesn’t give in. His fingers dig into your waist, keeping you still, keeping you desperate.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" His voice is low, teasing, thick with something dark and knowing.

"You."

His lips quirk up slightly. "But you have me right now, hm?" His tone is deceptively soft, but there’s something else underneath—something dangerous.

"You know what I mean," you say, almost frustrated.

He tilts his head, pretending to consider. "No, I don’t," he murmurs. "Tell me."

Your cheeks burn. Your entire body burns. But you say it anyway, voice shaking with need.

"Please, I want you inside."

Something in him snaps.

"Oh? Me?" He pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, his own gaze dark, unreadable. "The man you wanted so bad to leave?"

Your nails dig into his shoulders. "Fuck you, Soobin."

He laughs, a low, breathy sound that vibrates against your skin. He leans in, his lips brushing your ear.

"Ah, yes, babe, I’m fucking you," he whispers, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. His hands tighten their hold on you. "And you’re gonna take it—every inch—because you know damn well that you’ve been mine just as much as I’ve been yours."

His words send a shudder down your spine, a delicious ache curling in your gut.

"Mmm," Soobin hums, dragging his hands down your sides, his touch maddeningly slow. "Should I take my time with you... or not?"

Your body is burning, aching. You can’t take it anymore.

"Just do it," you snap, your voice needy, desperate.

He chuckles, tilting his head, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. "That eager, huh? Then help me out, baby." His fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts. "Take these off. Let me see that beautiful body of yours—fully naked."

Your fingers shake as you push them down, the cool air against your exposed skin doing nothing to cool the fire raging inside you.

"This is unfair," you mumble, looking up at him. "You’re still dressed."

That’s all it takes.

In one smooth motion, Soobin pulls off his shirt, then his pants, and finally, his boxers. He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t tease. He just stands before you—bare, unashamed, strong.

And big.

Your breath catches in your throat. God. It’s been a while since you last saw him like this, but—oh, wow. Yeah. Big. He was always like that.

Your mouth parts slightly, your thighs instinctively pressing together.

He catches it. Of course, he catches it.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans down, pressing his mouth to your ear. "Speechless?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Missed me that much, baby?"

His hands find your hips, gripping them firmly as he pulls you flush against him. Skin to skin. Heat to heat.

"You have no idea," you whisper.

You moan when he dares to tease you, his fingers ghosting over your aching heat, his breath hot against your skin. It’s unbearable.

Your patience snaps.

"Fuck you, Soobin," you nearly growl, frustration dripping from your voice. "Why the fuck—just please."

He looks at you, amused, entirely too in control. He loves this. Loves watching you unravel.

"Poor, desperate thing," he muses, tilting his head like he’s savoring every second of your frustration. "So fucking needy. Do you want me that bad?"

Your face burns. Humiliation and desire mix in a dizzying cocktail, but you can’t lie.

"Yeah," you admit, barely above a whisper.

Soobin hums in satisfaction, his hands gripping your thighs, thumbs smoothing circles against your heated skin. "Mmm, I think I should have my fun first," he murmurs. Then, without another word, he drops to his knees before you, eyes dark, pupils blown wide with hunger.

His breath hits you first, warm and teasing, and then his voice—low and devastating.

"Has this sweet little hole missed me?"

Before you can even react, he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up your center, sending a violent shudder through your body.

You cry out, hands flying to his hair. Oh, god. No, no, please—oh, don’t stop.

And then you lose it.

Soobin devours you, his mouth hot and greedy, tongue working you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever. The wet sounds, the low, satisfied groans he lets out against you—it’s filthy, overwhelming. His grip tightens, pressing you further into his mouth, making sure you feel every movement, every flick of his tongue.

"Let me worship this pussy," he groans against you, his voice muffled and rough. "It’s been too fucking long."

Your back arches.

"Fuck, you taste even better than I remember." His lips press against your thigh, only to return to where you need him most. "Mmm, let’s take our time with this, babe. Some good, long foreplay, yeah?"

You can’t help it—you start moving, rocking your hips against his face, desperate for more friction, more of him. The pleasure is too much, too overwhelming, and you barely register the strangled sound Soobin makes as you grind down against his tongue.

"God," you whimper, your breath hitching. "I’m—"

His fingers tease at your entrance, slow, lazy, completely unbothered by your urgency. "What? Gonna cum already, babe?" His voice is muffled, drenched in amusement, lips slick and glistening from you. "Mmm, you really are needy, huh?"

He presses a teasing kiss against your thigh before slipping a finger inside, just barely, making you jerk.

"Bet that boyfriend of yours doesn’t give you shit," he murmurs, voice laced with something sharp, something possessive.

"I don’t—" You gasp as he pushes in deeper, a single finger stretching you open just enough to make you shudder. "Fuck, fuck," your head tilts back, eyes rolling as he adds another. "I don’t have a boyfriend."

That makes him pause. You feel his smirk against your skin before he speaks.

"You don’t?" He croons, curling his fingers just right, making your whole body jolt. "No wonder you’re this fucking desperate. God, you needed this, didn’t you?"

"Soobin—"

"Wanna cum, babe?" His breath is hot against your core, his fingers still working you open. "Say it."

"Yeah," you pant, gripping at his hair, hips still rolling instinctively against his hand.

"Mmm," he hums, withdrawing his fingers just enough to make you whine, just enough to leave you aching. "Let’s edge you a little first."

"No—fuck you," you snap, your voice dripping with frustration.

His low chuckle sends shivers down your spine. "You get so fucking mean when you’re horny," he muses, pumping his fingers in again, slower, teasing. "I like this coming from you."

And then he presses his tongue against your clit again, and all coherent thoughts disappear.

The coil in your belly winds so tight, so unbearable, that when it finally snaps, it sends you spiraling.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—" your voice breaks, and your entire body trembles as the pleasure crashes over you in waves. Your thighs clamp around his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you convulse, lost in the euphoria of it.

Soobin groans against you, feeling everything—the way your walls pulse around his fingers, the way your body shudders under his grip, the way you completely come undone for him. And fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t dare stop.

He laps at you, drinking in every drop, his tongue relentless as he works you through the high, dragging it out, making your legs shake. His hands tighten around your hips, keeping you still, keeping you his.

"Soobin—oh, god—" Your voice is hoarse, wrecked, but he doesn't let up. His tongue flicks over your sensitive clit again and you jerk, body twisting, overstimulated and desperate.

"You taste so fucking good," he groans against you, voice thick with hunger. "Missed this. Missed you."

You whimper, pushing at his head, your body twitching, too much, too much—

But Soobin just smirks against your trembling thighs, eyes dark, voice husky.

"One more," he murmurs. "Give me one more, baby. I know you can."

When you come again, it blindsides you. You weren’t lying—it was too much, your body was too sensitive, but somehow, it still betrays you, still obeys the relentless pleasure he’s forcing on you.

The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s overwhelming, all-consuming—your thighs quake, your back arches, and your hands claw helplessly at the sheets, at him, at anything to ground yourself.

And then—fuck.

A rush of wetness spills from you in pulsing waves, leaving you breathless, wrecked.

Soobin stills for half a second, then groans, long and deep, as if you just gave him the most precious gift. His hands tighten on your thighs as he watches, completely mesmerized, watching how your body gushes for him, soaking his mouth, his chin, the sheets beneath you.

“Holy fuck.” His voice is thick, raspy, wrecked. "Look at you, baby." He doesn’t miss a single drop, drinking you in like he’s been starving for you, eyes dark with pure, unfiltered lust.

You whimper, trembling, overstimulated beyond belief. “Soobin—fuck, I can’t, I—”

He shushes you, pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your inner thighs, letting you feel the way his lips linger. His hands caress your shaking legs, soothing and possessive at the same time.

“You can,” he murmurs against your skin. “And you did.” His voice drips with pride, with something dangerously close to reverence. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

And then, with a wicked smirk, he licks his lips, tasting you all over again.

“Think you can give me one more, sweetheart?”

“No”

Soobin chuckles, low and deep, the sound vibrating through the air between you. His hands trail lazily over your trembling thighs, teasing, never staying in one place long enough to satisfy.

"No?" He mimics your weak protest, tilting his head as if he’s actually considering giving you a break. But the smirk playing on his lips says otherwise.

Then he sees it—sees the way your eyes keep flickering downward, dark and hazy, locked onto him. The way your breath hitches just slightly at the sight of his cock, thick and hard, standing between you.

“Mmm, we should let this body rest, shouldn’t we?” His tone is soft, almost pitying, but there’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “You’re so sensitive, all worn out, we should stop—”

He pauses, trailing a teasing finger up your inner thigh.

“But,” he drawls, watching the way you squirm, “the way you’re looking at me right now? Fuck, sweetheart, you’re practically salivating.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “You know you’re trouble, don’t you?”

Your breath stutters, but you shake your head weakly. “Mmm… no.”

His eyes darken instantly. “Liar.”

You swallow, voice barely above a whisper. “Want you.”

His grip on your thighs tightens.

You’re relentless now, pleading, your voice thick with need. “I really want you.”

Soobin hums, his fingers skating dangerously close to where you need him most, barely there, teasing. “Didn’t you just say you needed a rest?”

You nod, breathless. “Yeah…”

He raises a brow. “So what happened?”

You whimper, arching into his touch, impatient. “I—fuck—I want you,” you admit, your voice trembling with desperation. “It’s been too long. Please.”

Something in him snaps.

A slow, wicked grin spreads across his face as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

“You want me that bad?” His voice is dark, full of something you can’t quite name.

You nod rapidly, your whole body begging for him.

He chuckles again, low and satisfied, pressing a soft, teasing kiss against your jaw.

“Then, baby,” he murmurs, “you better take what you asked for.”

And just like that—despite the way your body trembles, despite the way you're still reeling from the last two orgasms that left you oversensitive and dazed—he enters you.

It’s slow at first, agonizingly slow, as if he’s savoring the feeling of stretching you open, of feeling you take him inch by inch. Your breath hitches, a gasp spilling from your lips at the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being filled.

But then he snaps.

A sharp inhale, a guttural curse under his breath, and all that patience vanishes. His grip on your hips tightens—no hesitation, no holding back.

"Gotta fuck this pussy like she deserves to be fucked." His voice is rough, wrecked, tinged with something possessive.

He drives into you, deep and unrelenting, his hips slamming against yours with a force that makes your head spin. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin against skin, the wet, messy proof of just how much you need this, how much you need him.

Your hands claw at his back, nails digging into his skin as he pounds into you, dragging you closer, forcing you to take every inch. Every thrust sends a new wave of pleasure tearing through you, unbearable and yet not enough.

"So fucking tight," he growls, watching the way your body swallows him whole, clenching around him, greedy. "Like you were made for me."

You can't even respond—your words lost to the moans and cries spilling uncontrollably from your lips.

His hand grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. "Look at me," he commands, voice dark, dangerous. "You feel that? Hm? You feel how deep I am?"

You nod weakly, barely able to think.

"Good," he grits out, snapping his hips even harder. "Because I'm not stopping until I ruin you."

He does ruin you. Completely.

The sound of it—wet, obscene, filthy—fills the space, each thrust echoing between the walls like a symphony of pure sin. Your body is a mess beneath him, pliant and wrecked, reduced to nothing but sensation, but pleasure.

And Soobin devours you.

His lips find every inch of your skin—your neck, your collarbone, the hollow of your throat—leaving open-mouthed kisses, sucking bruises that will linger long after this moment. His hands roam, gripping, kneading, worshiping. Every touch is possessive, claiming.

Your only response is to take it. To surrender to the way he stretches you, fills you so perfectly. It’s been too long since you’ve felt like this, since you’ve felt this full, this good.

"You feel that, baby?" he mutters against your jaw, his voice thick with lust, his thrusts sharp and punishing. "This is what you’ve been missing. What no one else can fucking give you."

You moan—a broken, desperate sound.

"Say it," he demands, his fingers slipping between your bodies, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and pressing down hard.

You jolt, eyes rolling back. "You," you gasp. "Only you—fuck—no one else."

He groans, burying his face against your neck as if the admission undoes him. And then he snaps, fucking into you like he wants to make sure you’ll never forget this, never forget him.

"I'm gonna fucking cum," you practically scream, your voice breaking, body trembling.

Soobin chuckles, low and taunting, never slowing his ruthless pace. "Oh, poor baby," he coos mockingly, his fingers slipping down between your bodies, finding your clit with wicked precision. He presses down, rubs slow, lazy circles—just to watch you squirm.

"You wanna cum that bad?" he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement, eyes dark with something feral. "So fucking desperate. Look at you—shaking. You can’t even take it, can you?"

You whimper, your fingers clawing at his back, his arms, anything you can reach. It’s too much, too good, too perfect. Your body is fire, every nerve on the edge of combustion.

"So needy for me," Soobin groans, leaning down, his lips brushing over yours. "But you know I love it when you beg, sweetheart. So why don’t you be a good girl and ask me for it?"

Your pride and sanity shatter.

"Please," you gasp, wrecked and mindless. "Please, Soobin, let me cum. Please—"

"That’s my girl," he growls, and then he rubs harder, fucks you deeper, until you break—until you fall apart around him with a sobbing cry, your body seizing, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave.

And Soobin watches it all, drinking in every second, every sound, every tremor of your body as you unravel beneath him.

It takes him a few seconds—just long enough to watch you come undone beneath him, to feel your walls flutter and clench so tightly around him that his restraint snaps like a frayed wire.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as his hips stutter, losing rhythm. His fingers dig into your waist, hard, holding you still as he buries himself to the hilt.

"Fuck—" he rasps, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he spills inside you, the heat of it making you shudder. He pulses, each wave of his release drawn out by the way your body still clenches greedily around him.

He pants against your skin, his breath hot and uneven. "Shit," he mutters, pressing absentminded kisses against your jaw, your cheek, anywhere he can reach. His hand slides up your side, lazy, possessive. "You feel so fucking good—"

You're still trembling, body sensitive, spent, but you turn your head, catching his lips in a slow, messy kiss. He groans into it, hips rolling shallowly, like he can't stop, like he’s still savoring every aftershock.

Neither of you move for a long moment. Just the sound of your mingled breathing, his weight pressing you into the mattress, the warmth of his release still deep inside you.

Then, finally, Soobin exhales a small, breathless laugh against your skin.

"Yeah." He nuzzles into your neck, voice lower, softer now. "You're mine."

You smile, breath still uneven, body still trembling. "I always was."

Soobin exhales sharply, like the words hit him somewhere deep. His arms tighten around you, pressing your body closer, unwilling to let go just yet. He kisses you—slow, lingering, almost tender now. Like he’s sealing something between you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, only the warmth of his body wrapped around yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the way his fingers lazily traced circles into your hip until everything faded into darkness.

You wake up to sunlight slipping through the curtains, golden and soft, warming your skin. The bed smells like him—clean and musky, something uniquely Soobin. His arm is still draped over your waist, heavy and possessive, fingers curled slightly like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

You shift slightly, your body sore in ways that make heat curl in your stomach. That definitely happened.

A low, sleepy hum comes from behind you. "Mmm, morning." Soobin’s voice is rough, thick with sleep. He tightens his hold, nuzzling into your neck. "Where do you think you’re going?"

You let out a soft laugh. "Nowhere."

"Good." He presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm and slow, like he’s savoring the moment. "Stay right here."

You roll over to face him, and god—he looks unfairly good in the morning. Tousled hair, drowsy eyes, lips still slightly swollen from last night. He blinks down at you, then smirks. "You look wrecked."

"Whose fault is that?" you mumble, stretching.

"Mine." He grins, completely unapologetic. "And I’d do it again."

Your cheeks heat, but before you can reply, Soobin rolls on top of you, caging you in effortlessly. His weight is comforting, his bare skin warm against yours.

"What are you doing?" you ask, even though you already know.

"Making sure you don’t regret it." He brushes his nose against yours, voice still thick with sleep, but his hands are already moving, slow and teasing. "And if you don’t, then I think I have some unfinished business with you, sweetheart."

It’s practically lunchtime when you and Soobin finally decide to leave the bed. Your body aches in the best way possible, but more importantly—your stomach aches for actual food.

You call for delivery, and right in front of you, like fate, they drop off food from your favorite restaurant just a few blocks away. Perfect.

Soobin busies himself preparing the table, setting out plates, pouring water into glasses, smoothing out the tablecloth like this is something the two of you do all the time. Like he belongs here. Like this isn’t completely new and terrifying.

Everything is so domestic, so effortless—it almost scares you.

You watch him for a moment before blurting out, "Soob, you’re truly an idiot."

He freezes mid-reach for the utensils, turning to look at you, confused. "Huh?"

You inhale sharply, then murmur, "We didn’t use protection last night… or today."

Soobin’s eyes widen. "Fuck." He looks absolutely stricken, like the realization just knocked the air out of his lungs. "Oh my god, I was too focused on— I mean, I was so into you that I just—fuck."

You cross your arms, watching him spiral.

"Babe, I swear, I’m clean." His voice is urgent now, panicked. "I got tested two weeks ago—I think I still have the document on my phone. You can check—"

You can’t help it—you laugh. "Lucky for you, I’m on birth control."

Soobin sags in relief, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Jesus." Then, his expression shifts to something more serious, his brows knitting together. "This is a thing for two—I should have been more responsible. I’m sorry."

You step closer, poking his chest. "Damn right you should have been."

His lips quirk into a sheepish smile. "I’ll make it up to you."

You raise an eyebrow. "How?"

Soobin leans down, voice dropping, teasing, "Well… I could start by feeding you before you get grumpy."

You roll your eyes but let him press a kiss to your forehead anyway. The moment should feel awkward, heavy even, but instead, it feels warm. Familiar.

You don’t even think before you say it. The words just spill out as you sit across from him at the table, food untouched between you.

"We need to talk."

Soobin looks up immediately, jaw tightening like he’s already bracing for the worst. His fingers tighten around his chopsticks, but he doesn’t interrupt.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Before you say anything, I know." His voice is quieter now, a little rough. "I know how hard it was for you back then."

You open your mouth, but he keeps going.

"Babe, I didn’t pay attention to you."* His eyes flicker with regret, dark and heavy with memories that still linger between you. "And I am so sorry. But I didn’t have the time back then—I had just made it into university, and I was juggling a full-on trainee schedule. I barely had a second to breathe."*

He looks down at his hands like he can barely stand to face you.

"At the time, I didn’t understand why you made such a fuss. I thought you were overreacting. But looking back… fuck, I was selfish. I was spending fourteen hours a day training, barely sleeping, and the little time I had left, I should have given to you."

His voice cracks, and when he looks up, his eyes are shining with something raw. "You were at university too, just as busy, and still… you made time for me. You always made time for me. You’d cook my meals, check up on me, make sure I ate something even when I got home at 2 AM—and I took you for granted."

Your heart clenches painfully.

"I will always be deeply sorry for that," Soobin continues, his throat bobbing as he swallows. "I should’ve been better. I should’ve been there for you like you were for me."

His hand reaches out across the table, tentative, fingers brushing against yours.

"But I never stopped loving you. Not even once."

Silence stretches between you. The weight of his words sinks into your skin, deep and unshakable.

It would be so easy to let that be enough—to fall back into him completely, to pretend the past doesn’t matter.

But it does.

So you take a breath, steadying yourself, and finally, finally, you start to say everything you’ve been holding in for years.

"You really hurt me, Soobin." Your voice is quiet, but steady. "I don’t think you ever realized how lonely I felt back then. It wasn’t just that you were busy—it was that I felt like I didn’t exist to you anymore."

He flinches, like the words hit him straight in the chest.

"I’d wait for you. Every night, I’d wait. I’d cook you something, even if I knew you’d barely touch it. I’d leave you messages, even if I knew you wouldn’t answer until hours later. And I told myself it was fine. That I could handle it. That I was just being selfish for wanting more of you."

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. "But it wasn’t fine. And I wasn’t selfish. I just wanted to be with you."

Soobin grips your hand tighter. "I know. I know, and I was a fucking idiot. I don’t think I really let myself see how much it was affecting you. I was so focused on surviving every day that I just… I don’t know. I thought you’d always be there. And that was unfair of me."

He swipes a hand down his face, exhaling shakily. "I can’t change what I did back then. I can’t undo the times I hurt you. But if you’ll let me—if you still want this—I swear I’ll spend every day making up for it."

Your chest tightens.

The truth is, you never stopped wanting him.

And maybe that’s the most terrifying part of all.

You squeeze his hand. "I’m still scared, Soobin. I don’t know if things will be different this time."

"They will be." His voice is firm, certain. "Because I’m different. And if you give me the chance, I’ll prove it to you."

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you watch the way his fingers tighten around yours like he’s scared you’ll slip through them again. You watch the way he looks at you—like you’re something he refuses to take for granted ever again.

"For the record," Soobin starts, voice quieter now, steadier, "my career will not be a problem anymore."

Your breath catches, but you let him speak.

"I don’t want to hide you. I never did, and I won’t—not unless you’re uncomfortable with how public it’s going to get. If you are, then I swear I’ll respect that. But me? I will always stand for you."

His fingers tighten around yours, warm and firm, like an unspoken promise.

"I will always be there from now on." His voice wavers just slightly. "I should’ve been there before, but I wasn’t. I don’t deserve you after all the ways I hurt you… but I love you, and I want to make you so fucking happy, babe."

A lump rises in your throat.

"You’re the only reason I keep working so hard," he continues. "Every day, I push myself so I can prove that it was all worth it. But the thing is… none of it means anything without you."

Your heart stutters.

"I have everything I ever dreamed of, but I don’t have the one thing I want most." He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles. "You."

The word sinks deep, heavy with meaning.

You exhale shakily, watching him. Soobin—your Soobin—who once felt like a memory you had to let go of, is here, right in front of you, holding on like he’s terrified you’ll slip away again.

"Do you mean it?" You ask, voice barely above a whisper.

His brows furrow like the question physically pains him. "Of course I do. I’d never say it if I didn’t."

You hesitate, searching his face for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But there’s none. Just unwavering determination, just love—raw and unshaken.

Soobin lifts his free hand, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "Give me the chance to make it up to you. Let me prove to you that I can be the man you deserve."

You don’t realize you’re leaning into his touch until your eyes flutter shut.

And then, all of a sudden, Soobin is kissing you.

It’s not rushed, not desperate—just sweet, meaningful. The kind of kiss that says more than words ever could. His lips press against yours with a quiet reverence, like he’s savoring the moment, memorizing the feel of you. Like he’s afraid of letting go.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t go far. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

"Could you be my girlfriend?" His voice is barely above a whisper, hesitant, hopeful.

Your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze—soft yet so intense, like he’s holding onto every second.

"I can make my company release a statement," he murmurs, pressing a lingering peck on the tip of your nose. "They can say that I’m very much taken. That I belong to you."

Your breath catches, but Soobin isn’t finished.

"I have an event coming up—a fancy, over-the-top party, filled with industry elites, idols, actors, CEOs. Everyone who’s someone will be there." He swallows, brushing his fingers down your arm. "I can introduce you to the world."

Your heart pounds.

"You don’t have to," he adds quickly, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. "I know this isn’t easy, and if you don’t want that kind of attention, I’ll keep us private. But I don’t want to hide you. Not anymore. I want everyone to know that you’re mine, and that I—" He exhales shakily, eyes glistening with something raw. "That I’m yours."

Your lips part, but words don’t come.

Soobin doesn’t rush you. He just waits, watching you like your answer is the most important thing in the world. And to him, it probably is.

You take a breath, steadying yourself as Soobin watches you with hopeful, expectant eyes. The weight of his words lingers between you, thick with meaning, with promise.

"Yes," you finally say, your voice soft but sure. "I want to be your girlfriend."

Soobin's entire face lights up, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly, like he's grounding himself in the moment—like he can’t believe this is real.

You exhale a small laugh, shaking your head. "I don’t love the attention, and I know the media follows you everywhere... but if you want to release the statement, you can. I just—" You hesitate, chewing on your lip. "I don’t know about the party though."

His eyes search yours, carefully gauging your comfort. "We don’t have to go," he assures you, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your palm. "I don’t want you to feel pressured, babe. If you’re not ready, we’ll do things your way. The world can wait."

You smile, warmth blooming in your chest. "You’d really be okay with that?"

Soobin chuckles, tilting his head. "I waited this long to have you again. What’s a little more waiting?"

His words make your heart clench, and before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning in, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s soft, full of quiet gratitude.

Soobin sighs into it, his hands finding your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. "God, I love you," he breathes against your lips. "I’ll do this right this time."

And you believe him.

When Yeonjun finds out, it’s messy.

There’s yelling. A lot of it.

"How the hell did this happen, and I didn’t notice?!" Yeonjun practically explodes, his voice bouncing off the walls. His expression is a mix of pure disbelief and mild betrayal, his hands flying through his hair like he’s on the verge of losing his mind.

Then, in the middle of his outburst, realization hits. His mouth clamps shut, and his face shifts from outrage to something quieter—understanding.

Of course, he didn’t notice.

He wasn’t here.

He was studying in the U.S. when everything went down. He missed it. All of it.

His gaze flickers between you and Soobin, and for a long, drawn-out moment, it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. Then, without warning, his eyes lock onto Soobin’s with a silent threat—If she ends up hurt, I’ll make sure you regret it.

Soobin swallows thickly.

But then—almost unexpectedly—Yeonjun smiles.

It’s not exactly a warm, welcoming grin, but it’s something. A reluctant acceptance, maybe. A begrudging fine, but if you screw this up, I will personally end your life.

Soobin lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding, tension leaving his shoulders.

And then it clicks.

A memory. A conversation. Something that doesn’t make sense.

His brows furrow, and he turns to you, completely thrown. "Babe... that day at the wedding… did you say something to Yeonjun about us earlier?"

You blink at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Taehyun told me he overheard you talking to Yeonjun about us.*"

Your face scrunches in confusion. "That never happened."

Soobin freezes. "What?"

"I never talked to Yeonjun about us before everything happened. Not at the wedding. Not before it. Never."

The realization crashes down like a ton of bricks.

"He probably lied to you," you murmur.

Soobin’s eye twitches.

Oh.

Oh, he’s gonna kill Taehyun.

And then, after that, he’s going to buy him one of those weird torture-looking gym machines he’s always obsessing over. That’ll shut him up.

Thank fucking god for Taehyun.

Let me know what you think about this hehe :D

[bobbyfloyd]

Bob, who once he's comfortable with the dagger squad, won't stop talking about his wife!!!! "Bob, your lunch looks really good." "Thanks, my wife made it! 😊" "Where did you get those socks, Bob?" "oh, I'll have to ask my wife, she got them for me! 😊"

To the point that some of the daggers (mainly Jake, it's only Jake) begin to doubt of this wife's existence.

But then it's family day, and Bob is holding the biggest bouquet imaginable. When the daggers hear a loud "BOBBY!" and see the lady of the hour, Jake promptly shuts the fuck up.

they’re in the canteen when jake decides that there is no way bob could possibly be married. he’s just sat down next to natasha with his perfectly crafted and balanced lunch, and when she points out how good it looks, bob simply beams and says, “my wife made it, as usual.” now, let it be known that natasha is completely aware of your existence, as she’s already met you. but the other daggers haven’t met you. they haven’t even seen a picture of you. and this is why jake decides to call bullshit. in his mind you sound too good to be true. there’s no way you could be real.

“you two ever met baby on board’s wife?” jake asks when javy and rooster sit across from him with their lunches. both men shake their heads. “why do you ask?” bradley replies with the raise of a brow. “i think he’s bullshitting us,” is what jake finally settles on before he takes a bite of his turkey sandwich. javy scoffs. “really? you think bob’s going to all that trouble just to make us think he’s married?” he takes a swig of his water and rolls his eyes.

but jake sticks to his guns. “c’mon, have you ever listened to the way he talks about her? she sounds too good to be true,” he insists. “nobody’s wife is that perfect.” bradley simply shakes his head. “whatever you say, dude. personally, i think dude shows all the signs of a lovesick puppy. i’d be shocked if it came out that he isn’t married.” so jake decides to make a bet with bradley, because he’s that confident in his belief that bob is pulling a fast one on everyone. “fifty says he isn’t married,” jake proposes. bradley doesn’t bother to hide his smirk. “you’re on.”

a few weeks go by and the bet is still going. bob continues to talk about you in that loving way he always does, his eyes shimmering with joy. in jake’s opinion you still sound too good to be true. perhaps it comes from a place of jealousy. jake isn’t married, and he’d never admit it, but part of him is envious that bob floyd has more game that he does. so he’s settled on believing that bob is merely pulling everyone’s legs. that is, until family day rolls around.

bob brings an enormous bouquet of red roses into work that morning. he’s got a bounce in his step. his hair seems to be combed extra neatly (if that was even possible). his cheeks are rosy and his eyes are bright. and jake very quickly realizes that bradley is right. this guy is a lovesick puppy. and then a joyous “bobby!” rings across the campus. and there you are. bright smile lighting up your face, with just as much of a lovesick expression as bob’s. and that’s when jake is forced to eat his words.

when bob sees you, his heart swells in his chest. god, he’ll never get tired of seeing you walk into a room. you take his breath away every time. and now here you are, at his place of work, and he’s holding the bouquet he spent a ridiculous amount of money on (for you, it’s worth every penny), and he feels like the luckiest man on earth. “hey there, darlin’,” he greets as you approach. he leans in to kiss you sweetly before he presents the bouquet to you, at which you giggle in delight. “it’s beautiful, bobby,” you breathe as you take it from him, bringing the flowers to your nose to breathe in the sweet scent.

“guess i should introduce you to the rest of the squad,” he says with that endearingly crooked grin of his. he turns, sliding his arm around your waist, just as natasha approaches with her fiancé, piper. “good to see you again,” nat greets you, pulling you in for a hug before she introduces you to piper. and then, in the background, bradley appears extremely smug as he claps jake on the back. “you owe me fifty bucks, hangman,” he says. but instead of a sarcastic quip, bradley is surprised when jake simply muses “well i’ll be damned. baby on board really is a wife guy after all.”