#clearly not thinking with the right brain here

[lila-lou]

✨Twenty-One - 1/4✨

Summary: You thought this trip was just a chance to unwind — until the door opened and Jensen Ackles was standing there, larger than life and way too real. Now you're spending your birthday week in his house, trying not to lose your mind over your childhood crush who, somehow, keeps looking at you like you’re not just some kid anymore.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, kinda immoral

Word Count: 6636

DISCLAIMER: Everything is purely fiction. I do not intend to attack or hurt anyone. The story is, of course, entirely made up and meant for entertainment purposes. I love them all.

AJ grinned as she rang the doorbell, clearly excited about your reaction to this trip. You, on the other hand, felt your stomach twist into knots. It wasn’t every day you were about to meet Jensen Ackles—a man you had grown up admiring, crushing on, and now, somehow, about to spend time with in the flesh.

The door swung open faster than you expected, and there he was.

Jensen Ackles stood in the doorway, casual yet effortlessly attractive in a plain t-shirt and jeans, his green eyes warm but curious as they landed on you. His light brown hair was slightly messy, like he’d just run his hand through it.

“Hey, kiddo”, he greeted AJ with a grin, pulling her into a quick hug before turning his attention to you. “And you must be Y/N. Heard a lot about you”.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. He heard about you? You barely managed to return his smile without looking like a total idiot.

“Uh—yeah. That’s me. Y/N”, you said awkwardly, cursing yourself immediately for sounding like a socially inept robot.

AJ laughed and nudged your side. “She’s just nervous. Big fan and all”.

Your eyes widened as you turned to glare at her, mentally screaming. She wasn’t supposed to say that! That was the last thing you wanted him to know.

Jensen chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Oh yeah?”, he teased, clearly amused. “Supernatural fan?”.

You swallowed hard. “Uhm—yeah. I mean—kinda”.

His smirk deepened, and you knew he knew. “Well, that’s good. At least you won’t be completely freaked out staying here for the week”.

You blinked. Wait, what?

AJ turned to you with a wide grin. “Yeah, forgot to mention that part. We´re staying here. Dad’s got plenty of space, and this way, we don’t have to waste money on a hotel”.

Your mouth went dry. A whole week… in Jensen Ackles’ house?

Jensen patted your shoulder lightly, the simple touch making your skin tingle. “Make yourself at home, Y/N”, he said, his voice smooth and warm. “It’s gonna be fun”.

And just like that, your already dangerous crush on him? It just got a hundred times worse.

As AJ disappeared into the kitchen, already rummaging through the fridge like she owned the place—which, to be fair, she kind of did—you found yourself alone with Jensen.

He smiled down at you, his green eyes studying you with an easy warmth. “So, you and AJ met at the shelter, huh?”, he asked, leading you through the house at a relaxed pace.

You nodded, still feeling slightly on edge just being here. “Yeah, about a year ago. I worked there while studying, and AJ came in for her internship”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “That sounds like her. Always wanting to do a little bit of everything”. His voice was deep and smooth, the kind of voice that could make reading a grocery list sound interesting.

“Yeah”, you agreed softly. “She’s… definitely a lot more outgoing than me”.

He glanced at you, his expression turning thoughtful. “Not a bad thing”, he said, stopping at the base of the staircase. “Sometimes, the quiet ones have the most to say. Just takes the right person to listen”.

Your stomach flipped at his words. Did he just say something that deep… about you? Before you could even think of a response, he motioned toward the stairs. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying”.

You followed him up, trying your best not to let your eyes wander, except that was nearly impossible. The man was built like a damn Greek god. Broad shoulders, muscular back, those strong arms… it should’ve been illegal for someone to look that good in just a t-shirt.

“This is you”, Jensen said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall. The room was spacious but cozy, with a queen-sized bed, a soft gray comforter, and a window that overlooked the backyard.

“Wow”, you breathed, stepping inside. “This is… really nice”.

Jensen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Good. I want you to feel comfortable here. And if AJ gets too annoying, you can always escape in here”.

You smiled at that, your nerves easing slightly. “Thanks. That’s… really nice of you”.

He tilted his head, watching you. “It’s your birthday tomorrow, right?”.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Uh—yeah. How’d you know?”.

Jensen smirked. “AJ’s been talking about it for weeks”. He pushed off the doorframe, his presence effortlessly commanding even in such a relaxed stance. “We’ll have to do something special”.

Your heart skipped a beat. Jensen Ackles wanted to do something for your birthday?

Before you could embarrass yourself by overthinking, AJ’s voice called from downstairs. “Dad! You seriously have nothing good to eat! What kind of house is this?”.

Jensen sighed, shaking his head as he turned. “Guess I need to feed the gremlin before she starves”.

You let out a soft laugh, watching as he walked away. As soon as he was gone, you flopped onto the bed, face-first, groaning into the pillow.

A whole week here. With him. You were so screwed.

You had barely kicked off your shoes and sat up when Jensen’s deep voice echoed from downstairs. “Y/N! What do you want to eat?”.

Your brain short-circuited for a second. He was asking you? Like, personally? Not just assuming you’d go along with whatever AJ wanted?

You scrambled to the doorway, hesitating before calling back, “Uh—whatever’s fine! I’m not picky!”.

There was a pause, then his voice came again, closer this time. “That’s not an answer, kid”.

Your stomach flipped at the nickname. Not that it was unusual, he probably called people around AJ´s age “kid” all the time, but coming from him? It did something to you.

You took a deep breath, stepping out of your room and heading toward the stairs. “Um… pizza?”.

Jensen appeared at the bottom of the staircase, looking up at you with an amused smirk. “There. Was that so hard?”.

Your face burned as you shrugged. “I just—didn’t want to be a bother”.

He scoffed. “You’re staying in my house, Y/N. You better tell me what you want to eat. I don’t need you passing out on me”.

AJ suddenly popped out from behind him, a bag of chips in hand. “Yeah, trust me, Dad. Y/N gets all quiet when she’s hungry. It’s creepy”.

You rolled your eyes. “I do not”.

“She totally does”, AJ confirmed, shoving a chip in her mouth. “She’s like a little sad puppy until she eats”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his phone out. “Alright, pizza it is. Any topping requests?”.

You hesitated for half a second, but AJ was already answering for you. “She loves pepperoni and extra cheese”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “That true?”.

You nodded, feeling oddly exposed by how well AJ knew you. “Yeah”.

Jensen grinned, nodding as he scrolled on his phone. “Good choice. You and I are gonna get along just fine, Y/N”.

You swallowed hard at that, ignoring the way your heart did a weird little flip. Get it together. He was just being nice. Like a dad.

AJ, of course, wasn’t about to let you off the hook. “She’s also a total freak about garlic bread”.

Jensen looked up, amused. “Oh yeah?”.

AJ nodded, grinning like she had just exposed your deepest secret. “Like, I swear she’d marry a loaf of it if she could”.

You groaned, covering your face. “AJ, shut up”.

Jensen just chuckled, already adding it to the order. “Alright, garlic bread for the birthday girl”.

Your stomach twisted. Oh. Right. He knew.

It wasn’t that you hated birthdays, but growing up, they were never big for you. No extravagant parties, no expensive gifts, just a simple cake, maybe a dinner if money allowed. So hearing Jensen Ackles, the man you had crushed on for years, say it so casually? It felt… weird.

Nice. But weird.

“AJ mentioned you’re turning 21”, Jensen said, locking his phone and glancing at you. “Big milestone. We should do something fun”.

AJ perked up. “Oh! Can we take her out?”.

You froze. “Wait, what?”.

AJ turned to you, practically vibrating with excitement. “Dude, it’s your 21st birthday. We have to do something! A bar, a club, something!”.

Jensen smirked, crossing his arms. “You’re still eighteen, AJ. You’re not going anywhere”.

AJ groaned dramatically. “Ugh, technicalities”.

You, on the other hand, were too focused on the part where Jensen was apparently planning your birthday now. “I—I don’t know”, you stammered, suddenly nervous. “I hadn’t really planned anything. It’s not a big deal”.

Jensen scoffed. “Yeah, not happening. You only turn 21 once”.

AJ gasped, her eyes lighting up. “Ooooh, Dad, you should take her out!”.

Your entire body went stiff. “What?!”.

Jensen just raised an eyebrow at his daughter’s enthusiasm. “Uh…”.

AJ clapped her hands together, already hyping herself up. “Yes! Think about it. You know all the cool places, she’s never been to LA before, and she needs to live a little! It’s perfect”.

You opened your mouth to protest, because what the hell was she even suggesting?!, but Jensen only chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well… guess I don’t mind playing chaperone for the night”.

AJ grinned at you. “See? Perfect”.

You stared at her, absolutely betrayed. “AJ, what are you doing?”, you whispered, mentally panicking.

She just smirked. “Giving you the best birthday ever, duh”.

Jensen stretched, cracking his neck. “Alright, pizza should be here soon. You two go set the table or something”.

You barely registered his words. Your brain was too busy spiraling. Because tomorrow night? You were going out. With Jensen Ackles.

You grabbed a couple of napkins, setting them next to the paper plates while AJ plopped down on the couch, watching you with a mischievous grin. “We need to doll you up”, she declared, tossing a napkin onto the table.

You groaned, already knowing where this was going. “AJ—”

“I’m serious!”, she cut in, sitting up and pointing at you. “You’re so pretty, but you always dress so… lamely”.

Your face heated up. “I do not”.

AJ gave you a look. “Y/N, I love you, but your entire wardrobe is, like, neutral colors and jeans. Do you even own a dress?”.

You hesitated. “…Maybe”.

AJ gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, maybe?!”.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. “Not all of us have unlimited shopping sprees, AJ”.

She waved a hand dismissively. “Money has nothing to do with it! You just need to, like… embrace your hotness”.

You nearly choked. “Excuse me?”.

AJ grinned. “Dude, you’re gorgeous. But you hide behind all these boring clothes and oversized hoodies”. She wiggled her eyebrows. “And since you’re spending your birthday night out with my dad, we need to upgrade your look”.

You froze. “AJ, it’s not like that—”.

“Oh, please”, She smirked. “Dad’s gonna be in full ‘protective mode’, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look hot”.

Your face felt like it was on fire. “AJ, I am not dressing up just to—”.

“Too late”, she sang, already pulling out her phone. “We’re raiding my closet after dinner. I have so many things that’ll look amazing on you”.

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of this. “You’re really set on this, huh?”.

AJ grinned. “Absolutely”.

Before you could protest again, the doorbell rang.

“Pizza’s here!”, Jensen’s voice came from the hallway.

AJ clapped her hands, jumping up. “Saved by the pizza. But don’t think I’m letting this go”.

You groaned, running a hand down your face as she skipped off to the door. Tomorrow night was going to be a disaster.

Dinner had been surprisingly easygoing. A lot of small talk, mostly AJ dominating the conversation while you and Jensen occasionally chimed in. He was easy to talk to—casual, funny, even a little sarcastic—but still, every time he looked at you, you felt hyperaware of yourself. Like he could see right through your nervous energy.

But then, once the pizza was mostly gone, Jensen leaned back in his chair, stretching a little before fixing you with a serious look. “Alright, birthday girl”, he started, “if we’re going out tomorrow, we gotta set some ground rules”.

You straightened slightly, feeling weirdly like a teenager getting lectured by a parent. “Rules?”.

Jensen nodded. “Yeah. First off, no posting about it online. I’m not super hounded by paparazzi, but I also don’t need some rando snapping pics of me in a club with a 21-year-old and spinning it into some weird-ass headline”.

That… made sense. You hadn’t even thought about that. You nodded. “Yeah, of course”.

“Second”, he continued, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m picking the club. I know a few spots that are discreet. Last thing you need is to deal with a bunch of drunk superfans losing their minds because they recognize me”.

You swallowed. Right. Because he was Jensen freaking Ackles. Just because he was so casual about it didn’t change the fact that millions of people worshipped him.

“And third…”. He hesitated for a second, then smirked slightly. “Look, I know you’re young, but just—don’t do anything stupid. Don’t disappear, don’t take drinks from strangers, and for the love of God, don’t hook up with some dude in the club bathroom”.

You nearly choked on your drink. “Jensen!”.

AJ screamed from across the couch, doubling over in laughter. “OH MY GOSH. AS IF”, She was gasping between giggles. “Dad, she’s—she’s the biggest virgin ever”.

Your eyes widened in horror. “AJ, what the hell?!”.

Jensen, to his credit, just raised an eyebrow, looking highly amused. “That so?”, he mused, taking another sip of beer.

You covered your face with both hands. This was not happening.

AJ was still cackling. “I swear! She’s like, scared of flirting. It’s adorable”.

You groaned, wanting to sink into the floor. “Oh my God, can we not talk about this?”.

Jensen smirked. “Alright, alright. No judgment, kid”.

The way he said it, so damn casually, made your stomach do something stupid. Like he wasn’t laughing at you, just… observing.

AJ wiped tears from her eyes, still giggling. “I love this. This is the best day ever”.

You glared at her. “You’re the worst”.

She just grinned. “And yet, you love me”.

Jensen shook his head, still looking entertained. “Alright, enough embarrassing Y/N for one night”. He pushed up from his chair, stretching. “I’m heading to bed. You two don’t stay up all night”.

AJ saluted dramatically. “Yes, Dad”.

You were still burning with embarrassment as Jensen walked past, clapping your shoulder lightly. “Don’t let her bully you too much, kid”. And with that, he was gone, leaving you a mess on the couch while AJ kept laughing.

The next day passed in a blur. You had tried to distract yourself, watching movies with AJ, helping clean up the kitchen, and avoiding thinking too hard about the fact that tonight, you’d be going out with Jensen.

But, of course, AJ had other plans. “Alright, birthday girl”, she announced, throwing open her closet doors dramatically. “Time for your transformation”.

You sighed, standing near the doorway. “I don’t need a transformation, AJ”.

She turned to you, hands on her hips, like a mom about to scold her child. “Yes, you do. You’re turning twenty-one. You’re going out for the first time. You are not—I repeat, NOT—going in your usual boring outfit”.

You huffed. “It’s not boring. It’s just comfortable”.

AJ gave you a look. “We are not prioritizing comfort tonight. We are prioritizing hotness”.

You groaned. “AJ…”.

She ignored you, already digging through hangers, tossing options onto her bed. “We need something sexy but not too much. Hot, but classy. Like… ‘Oops, I didn’t mean to be this attractive, but here we are’”.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s… weirdly specific”.

AJ gasped suddenly, pulling out a sleek, form-fitting black dress. “This. This is it”.

Your eyes widened. “AJ, that’s… tiny”.

She scoffed. “It’s not tiny, it’s perfect. Try it on”.

You hesitated, but one look at AJ’s dead serious expression told you there was no way out of this. Fine. You grabbed the dress and disappeared into the bathroom. When you slipped it on, you barely recognized yourself. It hugged your body in all the right ways, the hem stopping mid-thigh, the neckline just low enough to be dangerous. You stared at your reflection, heart pounding. Was this really you?

“Are you done yet?!”, AJ’s voice called impatiently.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out.

AJ’s jaw dropped. “FUCKING. SHIT”.

Your face burned. “It’s too much, isn’t it?”.

AJ shook her head so fast you thought she might get whiplash. “Too much?! No, this is—this is perfect. Like, I almost want to cry. My little Y/N is finally embracing her hotness”.

You groaned. “Please stop talking”.

She ignored you, circling around like she was inspecting her masterpiece. “You’ve been hiding this under your oversized hoodies all this time?”. She gasped.

Before you could argue, a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Jensen’s voice came through. “You two ready yet?”.

Your stomach twisted into a knot at the sound of Jensen’s voice. Ready? That was debatable. AJ, of course, had no hesitation. She threw open the door, revealing Jensen standing in the hallway, dressed in a fitted black button-up with the sleeves rolled up just enough to ruin your life.

His gaze landed on you—and froze.

For the briefest second, you swore you saw his breath hitch. His eyes flickered down, taking in the dress, the way it hugged your figure, and then just as quickly, he cleared his throat, looking away.

“Well, damn”, he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “You clean up nice”.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to act normal. “Uh… thanks”.

AJ, meanwhile, was beaming like she had just won the lottery. “Told you she looked hot”.

Jensen shot her a look. “Alright, that’s enough”.

AJ just laughed, linking her arm with yours and dragging you down the hallway. “Come on, let’s eat. You can’t party on an empty stomach”.

Dinner was surprisingly… nice.

Jensen took you both to a quiet restaurant, low lighting, a cozy atmosphere, nothing too fancy, but still nice. AJ did most of the talking (as always), but you couldn’t help but notice the way Jensen would glance at you every now and then.

Little things—making sure you liked your food, refilling your drink before you even realized it was low. It wasn’t anything obvious, but it made your stomach flutter all the same.

When dinner wrapped up, Jensen tossed his credit card on the table before you or AJ could even pretend to argue.

AJ stretched dramatically. “Alright, time to go. Birthday girl has a club to get to”. You paused. Right. The plan. Jensen was dropping AJ off at home first, then… then it was just you and him. Alone. In a club.

By the time you pulled up to AJ’s house, she was already half-asleep in the backseat.

Jensen shifted the car into park and looked back at her. “Alright, kiddo, inside you go”.

AJ blinked groggily. “Ugh. Fine”. Then she turned to you, smirking just enough to let you know she was still AJ. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”.

You rolled your eyes. “Which is…?”.

She grinned. “Nothing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do”.

Jensen groaned. “Out. Now”.

AJ laughed, hopping out of the car. “Love you both! Don’t be lame!”.

And just like that, it was just you and Jensen. The car was suddenly too quiet.

Jensen exhaled, gripping the wheel for a second before looking over at you. “You ready for this?”.

You nodded, though your heart was pounding. “Yeah. You?”.

He smirked, shifting the car into drive. “Let’s find out”.

The drive to the club was quiet, but not exactly uncomfortable. Just… charged.

Jensen had one hand on the wheel, his other resting casually on the gear shift, his fingers tapping lightly as he drove. The streetlights cast quick flashes of gold across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline, the slight crease in his brow.

You, on the other hand, were trying not to lose your mind.

It wasn’t like this was a date, not even close, but the fact that you were alone with Jensen Ackles, dressed like this, going out for your birthday… it felt like something you shouldn’t even allow yourself to overthink.

But, of course, you were overthinking it anyway. After a moment, Jensen glanced over at you. “You good?”.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… haven’t really done this before”.

He smirked, eyes flicking back to the road. “First time clubbing?”.

You exhaled. “Yeah. Not exactly my scene”.

Jensen let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, figured as much”.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”.

He shrugged, lips twitching. “You just seem… more like the ‘cozy night in’ type. Movie marathons, takeout, that kind of thing”.

Your heart skipped. He had known you for barely two days and somehow already had you pegged. “…Not wrong”, you muttered, crossing your arms.

Jensen smirked. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll make sure you survive”.

You swallowed. Kid. That damn nickname. You weren’t sure why it bothered you tonight. Maybe because you didn’t feel like a kid. Not in this dress, not sitting next to him like this, not with the way his voice sounded so smooth and effortless.

You needed a distraction. “So, why are you even doing this?”, you asked, shifting in your seat. “Taking me out, I mean”.

Jensen hummed, considering for a moment. “Well, AJ was very insistent”.

You huffed. “Yeah, that sounds like her”.

He glanced at you again. “And… you only turn twenty-one once. Figured you deserved a proper night out”.

Something about the way he said it—calm, certain—sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “You do this often?”.

Jensen chuckled. “What, take barely legal girls to clubs?”.

Your face burned. “Oh my God—that’s not what I meant”.

He just laughed, shaking his head. “Relax, kid. I know”. Then, after a beat, he added, “And no. Haven’t really gone out much lately. Not my scene either, honestly”.

That surprised you. “Then why—?”.

He smirked. “Told you. Birthday rule. Plus, if I don’t do it, AJ will never let me hear the end of it”.

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “She really does have you wrapped around her finger”.

Jensen sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it”.

The car slowed as he pulled onto a side street, the bright neon lights of the club flickering in the distance. He put the car in park, then turned to you, his expression suddenly more serious.

“Alright, some more ground rules”.

You straightened, nodding. “Okay”.

Jensen held up a finger. “One—stay where I can see you. I’m not dealing with you disappearing on me”.

You swallowed. “Got it”.

“Two—if any guy gives you trouble, you come find me”.

Your breath caught slightly. “Uh… okay”.

“And three—”. He leaned back, giving you a smirk. “Try to have some fun”.

You exhaled a laugh. “I’ll… do my best”.

Jensen grinned, then unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s go, birthday girl”.

Your stomach twisted as you stepped out of the car, the music from inside the club already thumping through the pavement. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the excitement making your heart race. But either way… there was no turning back now.

The bass from the club pulsed through the pavement as you followed Jensen toward the entrance. The neon lights cast an electric glow over everything, and for a moment, you wondered what the hell you were doing.

This wasn’t your scene. Not even close. But somehow, being here with him made it feel a little less terrifying.

Jensen walked up to the bouncer like he’d done this a hundred times before. The guy at the door barely glanced at him before unhooking the velvet rope. “Good to see you again, man”, the bouncer said, nodding.

Jensen smirked. “Appreciate it”.

You blinked. Wait.

“You know the bouncer?”, you asked as you followed him inside.

Jensen shrugged. “Told you, I picked a place that’s… familiar”.

You stared at him. “What does that even mean?”.

But Jensen just grinned. “Come on, let’s get a drink”.

The club was packed. Music blasted from the speakers, the air thick with heat and the scent of alcohol. Colorful strobe lights cut through the haze, illuminating the crowd of bodies moving in sync with the beat. Jensen led you through the mass of people, his hand hovering near the small of your back—not touching, but just close enough that you felt completely hyper-aware of his presence.

When you reached the bar, he turned to you. “What’s your poison?”.

You hesitated. “Uh… I don’t really know”.

Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “Right. First time and all”. He turned to the bartender. “Two whiskey sours”.

Your brows lifted. “Oh, we’re starting with whiskey?”.

Jensen smirked. “Trust me”.

The drinks arrived quickly. You took a cautious sip, the mix of citrus and smooth burn of whiskey hitting your tongue. “Okay”, you admitted. “Not bad”.

Jensen raised his glass. “Happy birthday, kid”.

You huffed. “Still with the ‘kid’ thing?”.

He smirked, taking a sip. “Force of habit”.

You rolled your eyes but clinked your glass against his anyway. As you drank, you let yourself take it all in. The music, the lights, the fact that you were here, in a club, drinking with Jensen Ackles. The absurdity of it all made you laugh under your breath.

Jensen arched a brow. “What?”.

You shook your head, smiling. “Just… this isn’t how I thought I’d spend my twenty-first birthday”.

Jensen leaned against the bar, smirking. “Better or worse?”.

Your stomach flipped. You licked your lips, setting your drink down. “Still deciding”.

He chuckled. “Well, we’ve got the whole night. Let’s see if I can change your mind”.

Before you could respond, the music shifted—something fast, infectious.

Jensen tilted his head toward the dance floor. “You gonna dance?”.

Your eyes widened. “Oh, uh… I don’t really—”.

“Bullshit”. He smirked. “Come on. Let’s see what you got”.

Your pulse skyrocketed. “Wait—you mean… with you?”.

Jensen just grinned and held out a hand. You stared at it, heart hammering. This was so not a good idea. And yet… You took his hand.

Jensen’s hand was warm, his grip firm but easy, like this wasn’t a big deal. Like he wasn’t dragging you onto the dance floor in the middle of a crowded club. Your brain screamed at you to protest, to tell him you weren’t much of a dancer, that this was dangerous territory.

But you didn’t. Because the second he pulled you into the crowd, the music swallowed you whole. The bass thrummed through your chest, the lights flashing in shades of blue and red, bodies moving all around you in time with the rhythm. You barely had time to catch your breath before Jensen turned to face you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Relax”, he said over the music. “It’s just dancing”.

Just dancing. You exhaled sharply, trying to convince yourself of that. But then Jensen moved. He didn’t go all-in right away. Just a casual sway, easy and effortless, his body rolling with the beat like it was second nature. His hands stayed at his sides, giving you space, but his eyes? They were right on you. He was watching. Waiting.

Your pulse skyrocketed. Okay. Fine. You could do this. You started slow, mirroring his movements, testing the rhythm. It wasn’t that you couldn’t dance, it was just that you never had, at least not like this. Not with him.

Jensen grinned when he saw you loosen up. “There you go”.

The music picked up, and without thinking, you let your body move. The alcohol in your system helped, making you just a little bolder, a little less aware of your own awkwardness.

And then, Jensen stepped closer. Not too close. Not inappropriate. But close enough. Close enough that when the beat dropped, and you turned slightly, his hand found your waist, just for a second, just barely there. Your breath hitched.

He leaned in, his voice low, just above your ear. “See? Not so bad”.

You swallowed. “Not bad”, you managed, but it didn’t sound nearly as casual as you wanted it to.

Jensen smirked, his fingers brushing your waist again, so light, so subtle, you almost could have imagined it. But you didn’t. Because when your eyes met his, there was something different there. Something that made your whole body hum with awareness.

The song shifted again, something slower, heavier. Jensen didn’t move away. Neither did you. And just like that, the air between you changed. It was no longer just dancing. It was something else. Something neither of you had expected.

Your pulse was out of control. You barely thought as you grabbed your drink, tipping it back in one go, the alcohol burning its way down your throat.

Jensen watched, his smirk deepening. “Damn, kid”.

You ignored the way that nickname made your stomach flip, setting the empty glass onto the nearest table. When you turned back, Jensen was still right there, his green eyes glinting under the flashing club lights.

Then, before you could process what was happening, he reached for your hand. And spun you. A quick, fluid motion—his fingers barely grazing yours—until suddenly, your back was against his chest.

He wasn’t touching you—not fully—but he was close. Close enough that you felt the heat of him, the warmth of his breath as it fanned across your shoulder.

And now? Now, you were really dancing.

The beat pulsed through your veins, your body moving with the rhythm. The hesitation you’d had before? Gone. The alcohol, the music, the way Jensen’s presence wrapped around you like a second skin, it was all too much, and at the same time, not enough.

You let your hands lift slightly, swaying to the beat, and that’s when it happened. Jensen’s fingers, just barely, brushed against your hip. It wasn’t much. The lightest touch. But it sent a sharp jolt through your spine.

You swallowed hard, hyper-aware of him now. The way his body moved so easily behind you. The way he still wasn’t touching you fully, like he was waiting. Testing. Like he was seeing how far this could go.

And you? You weren’t stopping him.

Another beat, another sway. His fingers pressed—firmer, deliberate—just at the curve of your hip. Your stomach tightened.

“Still with me?”. His voice was low, rough, right against your ear.

Your breath stuttered. “Yeah”.

Jensen hummed, a sound that rumbled through your back. “Good”.

You didn’t know how long you danced. Didn’t care. Because for the first time in your life, you weren’t overthinking. You were just feeling. And damn, did it feel good.

Hours had passed in a blur of music, lights, and the heat of Jensen’s presence. You had danced longer than you ever thought possible, had another drink (or two, who was counting?), and somewhere along the way, you had lost every ounce of hesitation.

Now, however, reality was hitting you all at once.

You weren’t wasted, but you were definitely buzzed—that loose, giggly kind of drunk that made the world tilt just slightly when you walked.

And Jensen? He was handling you. Not in an overbearing way. Not in a “let’s go, you’re done” way.

No. He was calm. Collected. Like this wasn’t the first time he had to lead a tipsy twenty-one-year-old out of a club.

His hand rested firmly at your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, his grip steady whenever you swayed too much. “You’re lucky you’re a fun drunk”, he murmured as he pulled open the club’s side door, letting in the crisp night air.

You giggled, feeling way too warm. “What’s a not fun drunk?”.

Jensen smirked, keeping his pace slow as you walked toward the parking lot. “The crying ones. The aggressive ones. The ones who throw up in my car”.

You gasped dramatically. “I would never”.

Jensen huffed a laugh, unlocking the car. “Yeah, well, let’s keep it that way”.

You felt light. Giddy. Like this whole night was floating around you in some hazy, surreal dream. When you reached the passenger door, you turned, swaying slightly. “You know…”, you started, tilting your head. “You’re really good at this”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, amused. “At what?”.

You blinked slowly, trying to find your words. “Taking care of people”.

His smirk softened just a little. “Comes with the territory”.

You hummed. “Yeah… you’re like… a responsible, sexy bodyguard”.

Jensen froze. Your own brain stalled. Did you—did you just say that out loud? A beat of silence.

Then, Jensen smirked. “Sexy, huh?”.

Oh. My. God. You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide. “Forget that. That wasn’t—that was nothing—”.

Jensen laughed. Like, full-on laughed. “Alright, lightweight, let’s get you in the car before you start confessing more things”, he teased, opening the passenger door.

You groaned, hiding your face. “I hate myself”.

Jensen nudged you toward the seat, still smirking. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll let that one slide”.

You huffed as you slid into the car, your face on fire. Jensen shut the door, walking around to the driver’s side. You exhaled deeply. You needed sleep. Water. A new identity, maybe. Because fucking shit. You just called him sexy.

The second Jensen started driving, you knew you were in trouble. Your head was still spinning, your body warm from the alcohol, the dancing, and—let’s be honest—him.

You couldn’t just sit here in awkward silence after what you’d said. You had to fix it. “I just meant”, you started, turning toward him in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, “you’re, like, objectively attractive”.

Jensen’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Oh no.

“Like—like, obviously. People would agree”, you continued, rambling. “You’ve got, you know, the whole… thing going on”.

He raised an eyebrow. “The thing?”.

You gestured vaguely. “Yeah. The voice, the muscles, the face. You know”.

Jensen exhaled sharply through his nose. “Shit, (Y/N)”.

You panicked. “But not, like, in a weird way! I just mean you’re, like… manly. Like, rugged. You’ve got that whole strong, protective, could-break-someone-in-half vibe”.

Jensen’s jaw flexed. His grip on the wheel went white-knuckle tight. You were making this worse. You gulped. “Like—not that I’d want to be broken in half, obviously—”.

Jensen let out a rough breath, shifting slightly in his seat. You had no idea that your innocent, drunk little rant was currently making his dick twitch. But it was. Because all he could think about now was you—dressed like that, pressed against him on the dance floor, moving without hesitation. And now, sitting in his car, talking like this. About him.

His jaw was tight. “Y/N”.

You perked up. “Yeah?”.

Jensen huffed. “Stop talking”.

Your mouth snapped shut. For a second, you swore the air in the car felt different. Heavy. Charged. You glanced at him, blinking. “Did I—did I say something wrong?”.

Jensen exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “No. You just… need to stop before you dig yourself in deeper”.

The rest of the drive was tense, but not because of any argument or discomfort. No, the tension was something else. Something thicker, heavier. Something Jensen should not have been feeling.

You sat there, legs crossed, fiddling with the hem of your dress, clearly buzzed and completely oblivious to what you had just done to him. To be fair, you didn’t know any better. You were young. Inexperienced. Completely innocent in ways you didn’t even realize.

And Jensen was not. That was the problem. That was why his grip was too tight on the steering wheel. That was why his jaw clenched every time your soft little voice rambled about how manly and strong he was.

Because you didn’t even realize what you were saying. Didn’t realize that any other man your age would’ve jumped at the chance to take advantage of the fact that you were sitting here, flushed and tipsy, calling him sexy without a second thought.

Didn’t realize that the words could break someone in half had sent a sharp, unwelcome pulse straight through him. Because he could. And that was the worst part—because you? You were so damn soft. So untouched. So sweet and nervous and trying so hard to make things right.

And here he was, a man nearly twice your age, trying not to think about how warm you’d felt against him hours ago. How easily you had melted into him when he’d spun you on the dance floor. How your breath had hitched when he touched your waist.

And now, you were sitting there, cheeks pink, babbling in that innocent little voice, so damn unaware of the effect you were having on him.

Jensen swallowed hard. This was not good. Not at all.

Then, your voice cut through the silence. “Are you mad at me?”.

He glanced over, blinking. “What?”.

You bit your lip. “I just… I didn’t mean to make things weird”.

Fuck. That lip.

He forced himself to focus. Shook his head. “You didn’t”.

You still looked guilty, your fingers twisting in your lap. “I just—sometimes I don’t know when to shut up”.

Jensen huffed a laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah. I noticed”.

You made a little sound of protest, smacking his arm lightly. “Hey!”.

He smirked, glancing at you again, this time, really looking. You were so young. Too young to be in his car like this, looking at him like that, trusting him completely. And he needed to get his shit together. Fast.

Jensen exhaled. “Relax, kid. I’m not mad”.

You softened. “Promise?”.

His fingers flexed against the wheel. Fuck, you had no idea. But still, he nodded. “Promise”.

And when you smiled, looking relieved, Jensen knew. He had no business feeling the way he did. Because no matter how much your words had messed him up tonight… You were off-limits.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14

[darlingxs-blog]

YOUU . will write about daemon uhh idk hc idkk uhhh how would it feel like to kiss him . he clearly seems to enjoy „scaring” the player and not acting completely subservient towards you, so I like to think giving him more freedom or egging him on to do his own choices would be a . Way to bond w him

(I wonder how the others would react to him, if theyre able to comprehend him at all)

UHH besides that . maybe possibly perchance teasing Daemon? Finding some way to make him feel all tingly physically and seeing his form get all staticy and fuzzy? i need to kiss him and his . blue mouth UHHUDNFFHGGGHGHHHH

HEHSHSB OHDHHE WHY ARE YOU SO SMART OHDHEB GOOD LAWD YESSSEEHDHD

We kissing Daemon right on his static ass lips trust 😼🙏

Unfortunately I've never flirted with nor teased anyone ever in my life (I have no dating experience leave me alone) so the teasing is definitely going to be some very erm low tier shiz nit okay thank you byebye

A bug...

He's a love bug. Shhh keep it to yourself.

The bugged out dresser freaked you out a little bit, it started glitching when you tried to talk to Deenah but were met with a corrupted voice and a messed up text box and no show of Deenah, at all.

But you know what they say right, third times a charm. You walk up to the glitching dresser and shoot the little 'love beams' as Skylar Specs likes to call them at that dresser that freaks you out a little if your being honest.

"I don't bite." A glitched out figure of what you can't even describe appears in your view and you can't lie. He's...kinda hot. "I think. Did I?"

Feeling oh so confident with yourself and your abilities to tug at your household object's hearts you decide to work a little charm- no, let's be honest here. The words slipped out before you could even register what you wanted to say "you can if you want" seriously, what the hell was going on in your brain sometimes. "I don't think I want to" his distorted voice snaps you out of your self depreciating thoughts and makes you feel a little upset...he could have been at least a little nicer.

"And why not?" You reply back to the glitched out figure, if you started digging your own grave, why not make it deeper?

The silent buzz of static fills the air around you two before "chomp chomp" again with his distorted voice "munch munch" how serious he sounds and since you can't really tell his emotions by his expression all you can do is try to force down a laughter that threatens to spill from your lips.

Though, before you can say anything in reply. He's gone.

__________time skip cause I fucking can_______

You wake up the next day, before even getting out of bed you slide the rose tinted glasses onto your face and the warmth of Betty and her soft body snuggled up with you sweeps your stress away. You gotta thank Skylar for showing you this absolutely fabulous woman the first day you got these damn dateviators.

"Mornin' honey." Betty's arms tighten around you while bringing you in closer and you laugh sweetly idc if your a man, your a femboy now at her antics. You know just how much she doesn't like the mornings. "C'mon darlin' you gotta let me go." And she does, with a lot of reluctance before sitting up and grabbing your wrist with a much softer grip than she had on you before.

"You're not gonna kiss me before you go?" A pretty pout is on her lips and you just can't resist giving them a quick peck- just so she'll feel better...and you just really wanted to kiss her.

She hums and falls back against the plush pillows on your mattress holding one of the many throw pillows to her chest before shutting her eyes softly to squeeze in just a couple more minutes of rest.

After a quick stretch that pops your arms you turn your head only to remember the glitchy dresser, Daemon likes when you suddenly remember he is there even if you can't see him physically or at least that's what you think.

You walk up to the dresser and without even having to think about it for too long Daemon appears in front of you in a blitz. He looks...angrier than usual. That's none of your business though.

One dateable by one you've slowly been 'realizing' them as the Kind yet Anonymous hacker but it and today was the day you wanted to see what Daemon would look like if he was well complete.

"Daemon, something on your mind?" Sympathy etches on your features and he has to force himself not to jab at you for getting way too soft way too quickly. Someone could take advantage of that. "'Fine. Just do it." His layered voice is sharp, he doesn't want to waste time it seems.

You've busted your ass off getting your specs points to the max and now it finally pays off with your large harem of lovers becoming human right in front of your very eyes, like you did with the ones before the process of Daemon becoming human is much more...anticlimactic really, but you can't lie. Even with the features that would seem odd for just an ordinary human he still is quite fine- "can I kiss you" "What?" You blink once, twice, thrice before he says it again "I want to kiss you" bitch YES PLEASE DHHEBD

"Well, If you want too..." suddenly feeling very bashful you turn your head away, out of all the things you thought he would have said when he finally became human you have not conjured up a single scenario where that was the very first thing he said.

A hand that seems to generate a buzz of static across your skin and deep into your blood stream turns your head back to face forward and lips are pressed against yours. Daemon's lips are flat and almost freezing yet you've never felt anything that made you melt so quickly.

A hum of static fills your mouth and dances on your tounge like pop rocks and yet you don't feel anything at all, all the while you feel his desperation he has with every nip at your skin with the mouths that don't exist.

With every second that passes with his lips locked with yours the buzzing gets more intense, it feels like a straight shock of electricity and yet you don't feel enough pain to pull away in fact it only brings you closer.

Unfortunately, with your mortal body comes with mortal lungs that do need air to survive so you pull away with a huff that you regret. You really didn't want to let him go.

He looks down at you and your flushed face, chuckling like he isn't just as red.

___________________________________________

I had to stop it right there cause it was getting cringey, unfortunately I don't know how to write Romance 😔 IM SORRY but like I'm happy with this lowkey, kinda, a little.

On everybody's soul we YES WE are cracking Daemon.

[ankh2]

no ac?

it was hot, you sat in front of a fan feeling the thick air, a measly attempt to cool down. the record breaking heatwave was something unexpected. the sound of cicadas outside, mixed with the thick, sticky air was unbearable. you let out a sigh flopping back onto the mattress.

"this is too much.." you muttered to gojo next to you, he had been suffering just as much as you are, you were supposed to be spending summer break relaxing around your house, but then the ac went out, you couldn't even blame it, it put up a good fight, poor thing.

he only hummed in response, his forearm resting against his eyes, sprawled out on the floor below you. normally, you'd expect him to be more chipper, despite the weather, but this was truly bad. you sat up again, looking down at him, just trying to make sure he was alive, when you felt your breath catch in your throat. he was only wearing a pair of linen shorts, and his now sweaty t shirt had begun to ride up, showing off a little bit of his pale skin, and the white hairs leading towards-

you cleared your throat, "i think I have some ice cream in the fridge, wait here while i go look," you muttered, lazily peeling yourself from your bed, his only response being an affirmative groan. you padded over to the kitchen, feeling temporary relief from the freezer, standing there for much less time than you wanted to. you quickly grabbed a carton of strawberry ice cream that you were glad you picked up during a shopping trip earlier that week, 2 spoons, and headed back to your bedroom.

you had almost dropped the recently retrieved items, if just a peak of gojos torso was enough to raise the temperature of the room 10 degrees, imagine the absolute volcano you were in now. he was now standing and stretching, shirtless, his biceps flexing, as sweat accentuated his muscular body, he turned to you, a small smile now on his lips, his cheeks slightly reddened due to the heat, and his eyes sitting dangerously low. holy crap.

"you took forever, i thought i was gonna melt" he must've noticed the brief glance towards his chest, "see something you like?" he raised a brow at you, the smile turning into a smirk as you rolled your eyes, handing him a spoon "nothing is more interesting to me than this ice cream right now."

'smooth' you thought, even though he clearly wasn't buying it, he watched as you opened the carton, it was almost like he discovered a secret treasure, he didn't even hesitate before grabbing a large scoop and immediately shoveling it into his mouth.

"im revived, i died and came back! i'm alive!" he squealed, as you took your own bite, the same size if not larger than his, you felt the immediate discomfort and let out a gasp,

"brain freeze-" you hissed, to which he laughed, taking advantage and grabbing the carton from you while you pressed a palm to your head.

"you really shouldn't try to keep up with me you know-" he said spoon coming out of his mouth with a pop, "i'm quite the experienced eater" he looked at you with a glint in his eye, not matched by yours, "don't say shit like that again, i think you made it worse.." you sighed, taking a seat on the bed, "give me my spoon, i want a proper try" you held your hand out, to which gojo shook his head "no way! you can't even control yourself, why don't you let me take care of you, i'll be gentle i swear" he said, one hand holding a singular spoon, which you could've sworn you grabbed 2... and the carton, and the other on his heart. you sighed, it was too hot to argue, he sat next to you, and you positioned yourself to face him, he looked laser focused, and you couldn't tell if the blush on his face was only from the heat.

you glanced down at him carefully taking a scoop of ice cream, before hovering it in front of your mouth, shuffling a bit closer now, and moving his eyes between you and the spoon. was he serious?

"c'mon..let me take care of you"

"it was just a brain freeze, toru..i'm not sick.."

"it's melting! hurry before we make a mess!"

you sighed, leaning in and encompassing the spoon with your mouth, closing your eyes to relish in the sweet, cool and refreshing taste, which made you miss what you were doing to the man in front of you. gojo stared at you now, quietly trying to steady his breath as he watched the tiniest amount of ice cream drip down your chin, past your neck, down into your sweaty tank top. what was supposed to be a casual normal hang out was the toughest battle of his life. he'd always found you to be stunning, but it was easy to suppress aside from a usual glance here or there, but today? today was impossible, he watched you walk out the door to grab the ice cream like he was starving and you were the biggest buffet he'd ever seen. so it was without even thinking, pure instinct that he reached to swipe the remaining ice cream off your chin, he may have missed on purpose, who knows, who cares.

"hey.." he let out, his voice now down to a whisper, his eyes focused on your lips, "why don't we try something else to cool down?" it was a stupid line, but you didn't really care, all that was on your mind was him, and how he was touching you.

"yeah..? like what.." you were whispering now , noticeably leaning in towards him. there was no one else home, but it felt like you had been sneaking around back in your grade school days"

"why don't i pour this ice cream on you, then lick it off before it all melts?" his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, he was never a shy person with his wording.

"...ok"

lmk if u guys want part 2! it's so hot here, stay cool :P

[rissararity]

"From the Bottom of my Heart, Fuck You" -John Walker x Thunderbolt!Reader PART 2

Word count; 1,316

No use of Y/N

Frenemies to lovers, bickering, firm dom John, asshole John, mutual pining, size kink, undertones of Sadism/masochism, unspoken consent, thigh humping/dry humping, heightened senses Super Soldiers. Minor humiliation kink, Unprotected P/V sex, creampie, dirty talking John, both degradation and praise sprinkled about, touch her and die and of course, gradual realization of mutual feelings.

THIS IS PART TWO

Here is PART ONE

(Friendly reminder, he still has your back to the wall.)

"What's your problem, huh?" John stepped between your feet, maintaining harsh eye contact and towering over you.

Fighting the urge to rut against him, you tried to keep your breathing level, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Your fuckin’ attitude is my problem. Why do you always think you need to be in charge? Seriously! You’ve already shown what kind of team leader you are.”

He sneered, looking down at you like gum on his shoe. “I was the first person in American history to receive three Medals of Honor and led RS One missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue. You were…what? The Avengers’ resident, magical whore?”

…To be fair, you did seem to have a thing for super soldiers.

You weren’t hurt at the accusation, both due to the kernel of truth in it you weren’t ashamed of and the fact that you knew John was aware of you and Bucky's canoodeling in the past and not so distant past – purely physical of course.

He was very clearly jealous and extra short tempered each following morning despite the fact you each emerged from your own bedrooms.

Knowing Walker was baiting you, you replied with a small smile, “A lady never tells.”

“Tch.” He scoffed, purposely lifting his leg to push between your thighs.

You knew he could definitely feel the heat coming off you at the moment, and feeling your face heat up too was not helping with the embarrassment!

“I’ve heard you and Bucky. You are not a lady…are you?”

He slowly and deliberately lifted his leg to nudge at your core – short circuiting your brain.

You wanted to say something about him just being upset Yelena turned down his fwb suggestion, but the words wouldn’t even form in your head.

You had nothing.

One hand lifted to grip your jaw firmly, but not brusing-John wasn’t even angry anymore. This was all a show.

For you.

Not that you knew that.

And, wow, were you instant putty in his hands.

You even started to buck against his warm thigh, unbothered by all the fabric between you.

“I…I’m…I…” you were cut off by his cruel laugh, a dark glimmer in his eyes.

“Am a blubbering little mess. Yes, you are.” His lips curled on one side – the arrogant smirk that made you weak in the knees.

“A blubbering little mess, for me.” He amended, the hand on your jaw caressed your cheek for a moment, stealing the breath from your lungs.

He looked down at you in haughty silence for a few seconds before grabbing your jaw again, harder.

Throb.

You began to hump at him more confidently as he nudged you a little with his knee to encourage it.

You were practically dripping by now, a dark spot staining his suit to prove it.

“Isn’t that right?” he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

The fight in you faltered as your inner sub activated itself for John. Your world felt smaller and focused.

Focused entirely on the man who’s fingers began to toy with the button of your pants.

Focused entirely on how good he smelled and how good he felt.

Despite all this – the arguing, the rage, the whole back to the wall thing… you knew he wouldn’t hurt you.

He'd promised you, once, while distraught and horrified at his own actions- he had no idea you’d heard just before passing out.

That was your little secret.

There was no doubt in your mind that when it came down to the wire, you’d trust John with your life.

So when he asked if you were a blubbering mess for him, you answered honestly as a reflex.

The words came out before you could stop them, “…Yes, Sir.”

Now, it was John's turn to have his moment of FUCK.

He’d only been half hard until now, but you looking at him like you’d cry if he didn’t get you off and calling him Sir was everything he imagined.

And trust me, he definitely imagined it.

A lot.

“I knew you could be a good girl.”

The words sent a shot of heat through you that ended with a tingle in your clit, eyes widening with genuine surprise as your body reacted to his praise.

The sound of your suits whispering together stuttered as your hips broke rhythm for a moment.

The tips of your ears felt warm as your blush spread, unable to look away from him as he took in your reaction.

Mouth dry, you tried to say something but your brain had left the building.

The only sound that came out was a small whine that sparked a couple of things in John’s bright blue eyes.

A flicker of mischief, and a large amount of pride.

“Nothing else to say? Is this all it takes to shut you up?” he oozed confidence, ghosting his thumb over your core and causing another desperate stutter that made him grin.

“W-Walker….” Was all you could manage, words dying in your throat or…perhaps not existing at all.

“That’s right, focus on me.”

He deliberately slid your zipper down and dipped his long fingers unabashedly into your soaked panties.

You whimpered, bucking up twice as his rough fingertips rubbed your clit. “Mmm!”

Face crumpled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation, you tried to hold back the word that threatened to fall from your deep red painted lips.

….Please…

You WOULD NOT beg for John.

No matter how much you wanted to.

“Hey guys, how’s it going down there?” both of you stiffened as Bucky’s voice chimed through your coms simultaneously.

It was like a bucket of ice water had dropped on you.

A Buckyet if you will.

Real anger glowed in John’s eyes at the interruption, but he was careful to keep it from leaking into his tone.

“We’re fine, Barnes. Haven’t killed each other.”

“Yet!” you chimed in lightheartedly, only able to hold it together for a single word.

The blond gave you a soft smile for a fraction of a second, making your heart skip a beat.

Not that you knew, since you’d shyly glanced down after his smile and missed his expression change, but he’d heard that – and was just as unsure of why it happened as you were.

Idiots; both of you.

Your voice was enough for Bucky to confirm you were both present and not at each other’s throats; that was really all he could ask for.

He was quick to sign back off but the moment had shattered.

Sensing this, John sighed and stepped away. Hastily, you did your suits pants while he turned his back to you and tugged at the fabric around his slowly softening cock.

Both of you took a few seconds to clear your heads; he waited for you to approach him once you had gathered yourself.

“So uh…let’s go.” You took point, relieved when he didn’t argue; just gave a short nod, lips taught.

Still in caveman mode, John found himself watching your hips and ass dance through the air as you unintentionally strutted around the base-as if you had any idea where you were going.

She’s so confident but so wrong.

He wondered how far you’d go until you remembered that in his pocket was an old, folded sheet of paper.

On that paper was a map you didn’t have a chance at deciphering. Not to mention your complete lack of direction.

A map he knew said you were heading deeper toward the chemistry labs and away from the experimental labs – where the prototype was supposed to be.

What a cute, dumb little duck.

Still following behind you, John shook his head at the thought – mentally correcting it.

What a cute dumb, little duck.

“…Cute?” he muttered to himself, the tone of his voice echoing just enough to carry to you but remain unintelligible.

Continuing to walk, you looked over your shoulder at him, “You say something, Walker?”

“Nah, nothin’.”

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

Literally all of us when John gets agro lol

No smut yet, but once it goes off...its gonna go OFF 🔥

[l8niteth0ts]

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: He doesn't talk much. But when you tell him how much you love hearing dirty things in the dark, Bertholdt starts to learn—fast. And once he gets going, he doesn’t stop.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 (𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈): Dirty talk, vaginal sex, uhhhhh I think that's it lowkey lol

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,148

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Please feel free to leave a like, comment, and feel free to reblog! I am grateful for all of you—thank you for reading my work!

𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘! 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!

“𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤.”

Bertholdt was a quiet guy, sure, but you knew he had more on his mind than he often spoke. And one thing was for sure, nothing turned you on more than some good ol’ dirty talk. You're in your shared room, lights are low, music is quietly playing in the background. You’ve been teasing him all night, trying to coax some filth out of him, but he keeps fumbling over his words. Now, as things start to heat up, he’s finally beginning to let himself go…

You were firmly straddled in his lap, your fingers threading through his soft brown hair, and you kissed him slowly and passionately. His large hands were hovering over your waist, tentative and hesitant—just like his words tended to be. You bit his lower lip softly, asking to sweep your tongue inside his mouth. He let out a soft moan, and your tongue welcomed itself to his mouth. Your teeth grazed against each other’s, the kiss deepening. You lightly massaged his tongue with yours, making him moan again, and you pull away softly after a few moments, to catch your breath.

“You know,” you murmur against his lips, your hand trailing down his scalp to the nape of his neck, smirking as you feel his breath hitch in his throat. “I love when a guy talks dirty to me.”

A soft, nervous laugh escapes his lips. “I, uh… I know.”

You lean back, arching your brow at him. “And yet, you still don’t do it.”

“I—” he swallows nervously, looking around frantically. His hands tighten on your hips. “I just—I never know what to say,” he admits, looking down at your lap shamefully.

You roll your hips on his groin, his erection evident. A soft groan drags out from deep within his chest. “Just say whatever you’re thinking,” you tell him, smiling.

He exhales sharply, his jaw clenching, his green eyes focusing on you. “I... I think you feel nice.”

You bite your lip, amused. “That’s sweet. But c’mon, babe. Give me something dirty.”

His ears burned, a red hue washing across them, alongside his face. He knew you were teasing him, trying to coax something, anything, out of him, but his brain was short-circuiting. “I, uh… you-you’re really, uhm.. soft?”

You sigh and laugh, and press a hot kiss to his jaw. “You’re adorable.”

He groans, clearly embarrassed, but you just shift against him again, pressing yourself closer. “I’ll help you out,” you whisper, dragging his hand up your thigh, under the hem of your skirt. “Why don’t you start with telling me how I feel right here?”

His fingers skim over your smooth, heated skin, desperate for touch and attention. His breath stutters as he realizes how little you are wearing underneath your skirt. His throat goes dry, and he clears it to speak. “Y-You’re… you’re so warm.”

You guide his hand higher up, “and?”

His fingers brush over the damp lace covering your cunt, and he nearly chokes on air. “Jesus,” he rasps. “You’re—fuck, you’re soaking wet.”

You smile against his neck, your hips shifting again, grinding against his growing erection. “Mmmm, that’s more like it,” you mumble against his neck.

Something shifts in him. Maybe it was the way you gasped as he pressed his long fingers more firmly against you, or maybe it was the realization that you wanted him to say these things—that you were getting off on hearing him lose control. He was relishing in the way you were reacting to him, and he wanted more.

His breath comes heavier as he drags his fingers along the damp fabric, voice lower now, rougher. He clears his throat before he speaks. “You like that, baby?”

You nod, still grinding on his clothed cock, “mhm, keep going.”

He exhales shakily, then does as you ask. His fingers trace your damp panties once more, and he then slips his fingers past them. His fingers brush against your folds teasingly. “You’re so fucking wet,” he groans, his fingers getting coated in your slick. His fingers brush through your folds, and he pushes one inside of you. An airy moan escapes your lips, and his eyes look deep into yours, full of lust and love. He begins curling his finger inside of you, reaching that spongy spot that always makes you mewl. “Is all of-of this for me?” He asks.

You let out a quiet, needy, “yes, Bertholdt.”

His restraint frays, “fuck,” he mutters, his voice dropping even lower. “Baby, I-I wanna hear you say my name while I make you cum.”

You gasp, the pace of his finger quickening, and a second one is added to the mix. His fingers aren’t thick, but they are long, and they reach your g-spot no problem. When you gasp, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. One of your hands reaches your chest, and begins to play with your nipple, earning a soft mewl from your lips. You pinch and squeeze the small bud between your fingers, letting out more breathy moans. His eyes drink in the sight of you, and something changes in Bertholdt, his blood begins to burn hotter at the sight of you, eager for more of your sounds and eager to see what else you’ll do. His shyness seems to disappear entirely.

His fingers move faster, with more purpose. His mouth finds your throat, “that’s it,” he groans against your slightly sweaty skin. “Let me hear you, baby girl.” He kisses and nibbles at your throat, on the spot that always makes you cry out. He sucks hard enough to leave a hickey.

You whimper, your hips rocking into his touch, and his confidence surges. He brings his thumb to your clit, and starts rubbing it in a quick, tight circular motion. You moan his name loudly, warning him that you’re going to cum. He grunts, and continues to finger you at the same pace, not wanting to mess up anything. You feel the heat building up in your core, the familiar feeling of release approaching.

A few moments later, you feel your walls clamp around his fingers, and you release all over him, your cream dribbling down to his wrist. He continues to finger fuck you, for you to finish out your orgasm. You slowly tilt your head up, your eyes fluttering open to look at him. He slowly pulls his fingers out of your tight, creamy hole, and they release with a soft pop, and he looks deep into your eyes as he puts his fingers in his mouth to suck them clean.

“B-Bertholdt,” you whisper. He takes his fingers out of his mouth, and slides them into yours, your teeth grazing them. You can still taste yourself on him, and it gets you even hotter, even wetter. You moan on his fingers, and he pushes them down your throat further.

He groans at how sexy you look. “Fuck, baby, you look so hot with my fingers down your throat,” he breathes. He removes his fingers, and starts to fiddle with his belt buckle. “Tell me how bad you want me,” he demands.

“I-I need you,” you pant, desperate for more of his touch, more of him.

He hums as he slips his jeans off, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring the way you unravel because of him. “Yeah? Tell me what you need, baby.”

You whimper, and a blush creeps across your face, your cheeks getting hot. “You, I-I need you, inside me right now…”

It feels like his heart skipped a beat. “Good girl,” he coos. “I love when you beg. I love when you tell me how much you need my big dick inside of you. You love my big dick, don’t you, baby?”

You feel your walls spasm around nothing, and you moan at his words. You nod, and he hums in delight. “I wanna fuck you so bad, baby. I wanna make a mess of your pretty little pussy. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s fucking you this good.”

“F-Fuck, babe,” you whine. “Y-You’re so hot when you talk to me like that. I-I want you so fucking bad, pl-please just put it in me already,” you cry.

A ragged groan tears from his throat, and he finally shoves off the rest of his undergarments. His large, hardened, leaking cock smacks his tummy once it’s freed from its prison, and he presses you down into the mattress. His usual hesitance was nowhere to be found—his hands were greedy and his mouth was insatiable as he kisses you hard, breathless.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he mutters, nipping at your jaw as he tugs the hem of your skirt. “The way you sound, the way you look, the way you feel… fuck, I can’t think straight.”

You grin, a hand entangling into his slightly sweaty hair. “Then don’t.”

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he rasps, his hands roam over your soft figure. “I can’t believe I get to do this.”

Your fingers travel down to the nape of his neck, “you’re doing it, babe.” You arch your hips, pressing yourself against him, making sure he can feel how hot, wet and ready you are for him. “So please, stop holding back.”

He nods, and he pulls your skirt and panties off in one quick motion, the sudden breeze of cool air stinging your soaking, hot core. He sucks in a sharp breath, and then—finally—he’s pushing his fat head into your tight entrance. The both of you let out a long groan at the sudden pleasure—the fullness from his head and the intense stretch of your walls for you, and the sudden heat that engulfed him for him.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to yours.

You moan, nails dragging down his back as you wrap your legs around his waist. “More,” you whisper. He gets goosebumps along his ears and neck.

He lets out a strained laugh, “fuck, baby. You’re gonna kill me.”

You smirk, grinding your hips into his. “Then die giving it to me.”

Something in him snaps. His hands grip your hips, hard enough to leave marks, and he pulls back just enough to slam into you again. Your breath hitches a sharp, broken moan spilling from your lips.

“That’s it,” he growls, burying himself deeper, his shyness completely gone now. “Let me hear you. I wanna know who fucks you this good.”

You don't hold back. Every thrust, every filthy word he murmured against your skin, dragged another moan from you, until he was thrusting even harder, even faster, like he needed to hear you scream his name. The way his cock brushes against your walls makes your cunt flutter. Tis thick, veiny shaft hits you just right, and his pace quickens, eager to please.

You feel another orgasm coming, your walls tightening around his cock, and he groans at the sight of the creamy white ring building up at the base of his shaft. Your nails rake into his back, drawing a small amount of blood. He groans, and pounds into you harder.

“B-Babe, I feel-feel like I’m gonna cum,” you whine, looking into his eyes.

“C’mon baby, I want that tight creamy pussy of yours to give it all to me, come on, cum for me, baby,” he edges you on, his voice giving you butterflies. You feel your release building and building.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, voice strained. “S-So tight and warm—fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer,” he complains.

You pull him down to your face, kissing him hard, your tight hole clenching around his fat cock. “Then don’t,” you gasp, “cum inside of me, babe.”

A rough curse tears from his lips, and he slams into you one last time, spilling his hot, heavy load into your cunt with a hoarse, shuddering moan, causing you to finally release as well, coating his large cock in your creamy fluids.

For a long moment, you two just lie there, panting, your bodies still pressed and tangled together. He finally lets out a breathy laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “Holy shit.”

You giggle, tracing lazy circles on his back. “Told you you’d be good at it.”

He groans, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Oh my God.”

You smirk, “oh, c’mon, don’t get shy on me now, babe. I like when you talk dirty.”

He groans again, but you felt the smile against your neck before he lifted his head, his deep green eyes meeting yours. “Then I guess we’ll have to do it like this again.”

Your stomach flips with excitement, “r-really?”

“Mhm,” he grunts as he pulls out of you, watching his cum leak out of your hole. He groans and flips you to your hands and knees. “So get ready, baby. Because I’m not done with you just yet.”

ⓒ 𝐋𝟖𝐍𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐓𝐡𝟎𝐭𝐬 -- 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

AOT MASTERLIST

OTHER AOT CHARACTERS MASTERLIST

BERTHOLDT HOOVER MASTERLIST

ʚɞ

[squidsinashirt]

Yeah, as much as it might seem impossible to you, I am occasionally capable of thoughts beyond making a joke. I don’t think being worried about Dad is entirely unreasonable either but hey, guess I was wrong.

It’s actually not what you seem to think it is at all. Maybe I’d just like to get to the point of having a conversation about… all of that with him before, y’know?

But you’ve always gotta make it about you though, don’t’cha Bluejay?

God forbid I want something outside of all of this, and space to work out how that actually works but that’s your problem with it all - that’s not a choice you made, so that doesn’t make it the right one. That’s always been the rule, right? Despite you being the one telling me “hey, if you need more time away, whatever you need”. Bullshit lip service, clearly.

And I appreciate you’re used to controlling everything and everybody that shares a last name with you, but Penny’s very much her own person. If your comms isn’t working for dialling calls out, you should get Brains to look at that for you 🤗didn’t realise I was locking you in the office when she was here either. Don’t blame me for you not making the effort.

You don’t ‘get it’, despite what you think.

But y’know, as ever, Scotty knows fucking best. Whatever. I’m heading out.

@thunderfledgeling bub, you know that’s not true and I love you loads. But you’re allowed to be angry and if that’s how you really feel, then that’s totally valid and I’m sorry.

My dear Jeff,

I do hope all is well on your stretch of the Pacific, and that your boys haven’t had to drop into anything too dramatic lately (though I’ve long suspected the Tracys attract excitement the way some people attract fine wine).

Just a quick message to say I’d be delighted if you’d consider coming up to the lodge in Scotland for a few days. Just the two of us - no grand agenda, unless you count a bottle or two of obscenely good whisky, some fine fare and some good weather (perhaps, it is Scotland after all!).

We can catch up properly. If the mood strikes, I have a business matter or two I think might intrigue you, small ventures in I’d value your thoughts on - nothing urgent, just the kind of thing one likes to talk over near a fire, away from boardrooms and broadcast signals. Otherwise, perhaps we can swap notes about being fathers to suddenly grown and alarmingly capable young adults?

Bring your walking boots and your wit. The heather’s just coming into bloom, and the trout are practically begging to be caught.

Do say yes.

Yours ever,

Hugh CW

Hugh! It’s so lovely to hear from you again, you old sea dog!

The boys are doing about as fine as can be in our line of work. Of course they’re all grown now but with each physio appointment they seem to be respecting my authority to get them to rest. You know how much they mean to me.

It would be an honour to catch up with you, although I suspect a few sons may have a protest or two about it. But how could I ever pass on an opportunity to see a such a dear old friend again? I sure have missed you and your correcting my every fourth word 😉

If it’s business you’d like to discuss I’m sure I can lend an ear, although I’m still catching up with everything so my suggestions may be dated. Imagine that! You’re right about away from boardrooms and broadcasts, privacy and the chance to actually discuss something without fear of being made a spectacle is by far the best way to think about things. I’m already tired of the press, how do you and Penny handle it?

The parenting department I could definitely do with some advice in. My own notes are feeling a little sparse but between the two of us I’m positive we’ll figure it out!

Looks like I’ll be digging those old boots out of storage. I’m sure I can find the right moment to slip away, so do keep an eye out for a message telling you when to crack open that whiskey!

Yours,

Jeff Tracy.

[livetogether--diealone]

honestly though

[reginaldubel]

its his day @sleep-nurse

[camellia-thea]

okay. just rambling here, but, i think armand took more than just the end of the interview away from daniel.

we got that little moment about that night, saying 'you asked me to' to louis. 'you asked me to take this from you, you could not live with it,' leading into, 'i look after you when you cannot look after yourself, i make those choices for you.'

we know that during the chase and devil's minion era, daniel was an addict, who was, by his own admission, slowly killing himself. he was also addicted to blood.

it's really not too far to make the jump, if devil's minion occurred, that armand made the choice to step in, in his own mind, for daniel's best interests. i know this isn't a unique jump to make, but; again with armand's "i look after him when he cannot look after himself" continual reiteration, i think it's a fair assumption.

he can also replace and blur memories, which makes the discussion of alice and paris -- why the dessert from that night? -- and how immediate and sincere his answer of "she wanted to say yes, but she didn't trust you. you hadn't given her a reason to." this could be the night he took them away, replaced himself with alice, planted something similar for her to start the relationship, then step back and watch it fall. and i think the thing that stands out there is just how tender he is while saying it. there's an undercurrent of something else entirely underneath, it isn't a dig at daniel in the moment, despite the pushing earlier in the scene.

and then in s1, when louis say to daniel, "i'd give it to you now." and the cut to armand, still in disguise, and his micro-expression of horror, the way he stiffens and looks away... and the little moment of what i read as conflict when daniel says no. his jump to "may i be excused?" i can't tell in the moment, if he's horrified about the offer itself, the fact that it is louis offering to turn daniel rather than himself, or the fact that daniel denies it. because i don't think armand could actually let daniel die if this was the case.

the disguise itself-- why pretend to be rashid? i think part of it is to try and hide behind a human persona to keep those memories at bay; especially given the little moments of flashback that got triggered by little mannerisms. i can't decide whether they're intentional pushes or not, whether armand wanted/wants daniel to remember on his own, or wants to keep it under wraps. i think, even if he believes he doesn't want it to come forward, he truly does deep down.

and once he's revealed himself as armand, the way he gazes at daniel, his beautiful boy. the continued "our boy", from both he and louis, the "he's still in there, somewhere..."

and i think "our boy" is also really interesting, because why would daniel be armand's boy, based solely on the moments that louis initially remembered? armand didn't really have any emotional connection to daniel that night, sure, he saved him, but that doesn't really mean anything; he saved daniel for louis, not for daniel's sake.

and, jumping back "our boy,[...] he's still in there somewhere"... there's implication that louis might know about it? again, i don't think this is related to the original interview, or at least, limited to it? i don't have anything concrete here, just vibes, but again, why is armand's boy still in there somewhere?

and sure, some of these are reaches and i don't think i'm necessarily right, but god it would be deliciously awful if i was.

[revvethasmythh]

I am curious about how Liliana and Ludinus' goals differ. Because Ludinus' obvious goal is to eradicate the gods--Liliana's, however, is apparently to free the Ruidusborn from the burden of their powers. How do these two things coincide? Obviously we can see how releasing Predathos causes the downfall of the gods, but why would releasing Predathos help the Ruidusborn? The obvious (though not necessarily correct) conclusion one would jump to is that, in order for Ruidusborn/Exaltants to be free from their powers, one would need to kill Predathos, not just free him. So I'm led to wonder if Liliana is willing to aid Ludinus in achieving his goal (kill the gods) in order to achieve her goal through some secondary effect (however one goes about killing a thing powerful enough to kill the gods). Which I suppose makes some sense, because why would you go to the effort to destroy all the gods only to allow a creature of equal-to-greater power of the gods continue to exist over Exandria? You wouldn't, would you? You'd probably want that to be gone as well

[clovernoir]

Luv coming to my hometown and one of the first things my mom does is yell at me bc i took too long to answer a question. It hadn't even been 10 seconds

[snail-day]

You swear Satoru pretends he’s not as strong when he’s around you. The man will let you shove him and then immediately collapse to the floor, whining that you’re just sooo mean to little ol’ him :(

So, of course, when he’s about to leave for the day, expecting his usual morning kiss, and you’re not exactly giving him what he wants (just those quick, annoying little pecks), he starts getting that look.

That stupid grin.

Big and dopey, blue eyes crinkling as his snowy lashes flutter, leaning in closer each time you try to pull away, chasing your mouth like a fool in love. “Nooo, come back. You know what I want.”

And obviously, you’ve had enough.

You grab him by the front of his jacket, spin him, and pin him up against the wall. One hand cupping his pec, because if you’re gonna do this, you’re gonna do it right, and the other curling around the sharp line of his jaw as you lean in and kiss him.

Sloppy. Messy. Tongue sliding into his mouth, breath warm and close, and you swear you hear a moan slip from the back of his throat.

You murmur against his lips, “This is where you're weak, right?”

And it’s like you hit a pressure point. His legs buckle slightly, spine curving like you knocked the air out of him. If you weren’t holding him up, he’d probably be sliding straight down the wall. His fingers twitch like he wants to grab you, anchor himself, but all he can do is giggle breathlessly against your mouth, brain clearly buffering.

When you finally pull back, he’s flushed. Blinking like you just smacked him. The tips of his ears are pink, his lashes fluttering as he stammers, “What the hell was that, baby, no, nuh uh, you come back here and finish what you started.”

And now he’s whining at the door like the poor, lovesick puppy he is, mumbling about how he’s gonna be thinking about that kiss all day.

You change his contact to 'Masochistic freak' after he finally leaves to go on some random mission.

[cats-in-the-clouds]

my sister got engaged and we’re all really happy for her but my bitter rain cloud of a dad (who naturally she told last) is giving her a bit of passive aggressive grief about it despite her boyfriend being like the best man of our generation (presumably either because he’s not catholic or because my dad sees them as young dumb unemployed people who aren’t ready for marriage or because he’s mad he barely has any real love with his own wife or something). so like pray for us? i wish i knew what to do

[sleepyhoon]

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.

✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.

Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

—

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.

You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.

You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Heeseung.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

[mythvoiced]

-. wAIT WAIT WAIT zhìjiàn & chén pre-charm verse, noise coming from your most moronic mutual, hey there~ ♥

[leriexoxo]

Nowhere To Hide

Bestfriend! Hyunjin x Reader

Tags: mutual masturbation, porn, closet sex, rough sex, first time together, desperate thrusting, overstimulation, hand over mouth, biting, semi-public sex, stifled moans, creampie, aftershocks, dazed clinging, emotionally intense

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: you’re just his best friend; his open-minded, dangerously close, overly flirty best friend. so when hyunjin tells you he can’t watch porn unless someone else is in the room… you roll your eyes and let him do it. but you don’t expect to stay. you don’t expect to watch. and you definitely don’t expect to end up with his hand around your mouth, legs shaking, his cock deep inside you in a locked closet at a house party four days later.

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Hyunjin had always been open with each other.

It was part of the reason your friendship worked — that weird, shameless kind of bond where nothing was off-limits. He could talk to you about anything. You could say things that would’ve made other people flinch, and he’d just laugh, head tipped back, telling you that your brain was his favorite place in the world.

There were no rules. Just you, and him, and the strange little rhythm you’d fallen into over the years. Late-night hangouts, casual sleepovers, the occasional too-long hug when one of you needed something unspoken. No lines ever crossed, but plenty blurred.

So when he asked you to come over that night — casual, chill, just to hang — you didn’t think twice.

You showed up in your usual post-shower state: oversized hoodie, bare legs, the kind of soft cotton underwear that felt like home. His place was warm, clean in a way that said he’d tried to impress you without saying it out loud.

He opened the door, hair messy, smile crooked. “You’re late.”

“You’re lucky I came at all.”

He stuck his tongue out. “You always come when I ask.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping in.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the quiet intimacy of the night. But somehow, two episodes into whatever trashy dating show you’d landed on, something shifted.

“Do you mind,” Hyunjin said, reaching lazily for his iPad, “if I put something else on?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

You didn’t expect him to open his browser and pull up porn.

“Hyunjin—”

“Don’t freak out,” he said, like this was totally normal. “I’m not gonna jerk off. Just… I don’t know. I like having it on sometimes.”

You stared at him. “With me right here?”

“That’s the point.”

You blinked.

“I can’t enjoy it when I’m alone,” he said with a small shrug. “It’s not hot unless someone else is in the room. I’m not gonna do anything unless you want me to. I just… I don’t know. It feels less sad this way.”

You stared at him, mouth opening, then closing.

“Hyune,” you said slowly. “That’s not normal.”

He grinned, eyes bright with mischief. “You say that like I’m trying to be normal.”

Your instinct was to say no. To laugh it off. To tell him he was fucking insane and grab your shoes. But you didn’t.

Instead, you sighed, shaking your head, and muttered, “Fine. But you’re not allowed to make this weird.”

“I never make anything weird.”

“That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

He winked. “And yet… you’re still here.”

⸻

The video was loud. That was the first problem. The moans were high and breathy and clearly real — not the fake, over-the-top stuff that was easy to ignore.

The second problem was Hyunjin himself.

He didn’t just watch it. He felt it. Breathing in these slow, shallow hitches. Sinking back into the pillows like he was alone, even though you were right there.

You weren’t even watching the screen. You were watching him.

His mouth was slightly open. His chest rose and fell under the soft black tee he’d half-tucked into those stupid grey sweatpants — the ones you’d teased him about a thousand times for being too dangerous.

And then… he moved.

Just a shift of the hips at first. Then his hand — long fingers twitching — rested near his thigh. A rub. Absentminded at first. Then another. Slower. Firmer.

Your stomach dipped.

He groaned, soft and low. His head tilted back.

And that sound — fuck, that sound — sent a pulse straight between your legs.

You tried to ignore it. You tried so hard. But your body was already reacting before your brain could process what was happening. Your thighs pressed together. You adjusted your hoodie. You stopped breathing entirely when his eyes flicked toward you and then dropped — low, slow, hungry.

“You good?” he asked, voice hoarse.

You nodded too quickly. “Fine.”

He smiled — a little too knowingly — and exhaled. “Fuck, she sounds like you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“The girl. On the video.” His voice was dreamy, almost dazed. “She moans like you.”

You stared at him. “How would you even know that?”

He looked at you then, eyes dark and shining. “You think I’ve never heard you?”

Your skin went hot. “Hyunjin—”

“I wasn’t trying to. But you always leave your door cracked. And sometimes I’d just be passing by and then… you’d make this sound. Like you didn’t know how to stop yourself.”

You opened your mouth to say something — anything — but then he moaned again. This time because of you. He was hard now. Very visibly hard.

“God,” he whispered. “Why is this so much hotter with you here?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Your body was buzzing. Your underwear damp. And every inch of space between you suddenly felt razor-thin, unbearable.

“Touch yourself,” he said, almost breathless.

You shook your head, barely.

He leaned in, voice low. “Please.”

You swallowed. “Why?”

“Because I need it,” he said, groaning again as he pressed into his palm. “And I don’t want to be the only one.”

His eyes flicked to your legs.

“You’re turned on.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” His voice was firmer now. “I can see it. The way your thighs are clenched. The way you’re breathing.”

You looked away. He reached out, gently brushing your knee.

“Look at me.”

You did.

“I swear,” he said, “I’ll stop if you tell me to. But if you want this even a little… just stay.”

You exhaled. Shaky. Unsure. Wet.

And you stayed. Neither of you said anything for a long moment.

The porn still played softly in the background, but it was just noise now — the tension in the room had turned so dense it pressed in on your skin like heat, like breath.

Hyunjin dragged his bottom lip between his teeth and exhaled slowly through his nose. His hand hadn’t left his lap.

You were still watching him.

And he was watching you watching him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, voice hoarse.

Your chest tightened. “No.”

That was all he needed.

He shifted closer, just barely, and let out a sound — low, needy — as he rolled his hips against his palm. The motion was subtle, but it jolted through you like lightning. He rubbed again, slow, firm, a deliberate drag of pressure down the thick line in his sweatpants.

Your thighs clenched instinctively. You were soaked. You could feel it — the press of cotton against slick skin, the fluttering ache that had been growing steadily in your core from the moment he started moaning.

He looked drunk off it. His mouth was open, panting softly. His eyes flicked over your face, down your body, then back to your eyes.

“Touch yourself,” he said again, quieter this time. “I want to see what you look like when you’re needy.”

You let out a breath that trembled.

Your hand moved before your mind could stop it — sliding under the hem of your hoodie, then beneath the waistband of your underwear. Hyunjin’s eyes followed every inch.

“Oh my god” he whispered.

Your fingers dipped into yourself. Soaked.

Your breath hitched hard.

Hyunjin groaned — loud, ragged — and dropped his head back against the headboard, his hand now gripping the full length of his cock over his sweats. The bulge was thick and heavy, straining the fabric.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself,” he rasped. “I can’t believe you’re actually…”

You moaned — quietly, shakily — and he snapped his eyes open.

“Say something,” he begged. “Tell me what you feel like.”

“I’m wet,” you whispered, eyes closing. “I’ve never been this wet just from watching someone.”

That made him gasp.

“God—fuck—” He shoved his sweatpants down just enough to free himself, and suddenly you couldn’t look away.

He was long, flushed red at the tip, already glistening with pre-cum.

You whimpered.

His eyes fluttered shut at the sound.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “You know that? Just—so fucking pretty when you touch yourself like that. Show me more.”

You moved your fingers again, slow and deliberate, spreading the slickness and brushing over your clit. Your hips arched subtly into the motion, breath stuttering.

Hyunjin watched like a man starved.

“I want to taste you,” he said suddenly, voice broken. “Fuck—I want my face between your legs so bad.”

Your whole body shuddered.

He jerked himself once, twice — not fast, but hard. Focused. Like he was trying to memorize the way it felt while staring at you.

You moaned again, louder this time. Embarrassed at how fast your body was unraveling.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he confessed, still stroking. “Not like this exactly. But… you. Under me. Wet and panting. Saying my name.”

You bit your lip, fingers moving faster now. “I didn’t think we’d ever—”

“Me neither,” he whispered. “But now I don’t even want to stop.”

The air was charged, burning.

You were close. So close it was making your knees tremble.

Hyunjin leaned in again, his free hand brushing against your thigh as if asking for permission.

You didn’t stop him.

His lips were inches from your ear when he whispered, “Let me help.”

You paused. Swallowed.

He watched you — tense, hopeful, ruined — until you nodded.

And then… the shift happened.

Hyunjin slipped his hand down, fingers brushing yours under the band of your underwear. You gasped, but didn’t pull away. He cupped you gently, middle finger sliding through the mess you’d made.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”

Your head dropped against his shoulder.

“You made me like this,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” he said, voice shaking. “You like watching me stroke my cock for you?”

You whimpered again. “Yes—fuck, yes.”

He slid his finger in, slow and deep, while still stroking himself with the other hand. You cried out, biting down on your hoodie sleeve as he moved inside you, curling slightly.

“Come for me,” he said, lips against your temple. “Please. I want to see you fall apart.”

It didn’t take long.

Your body clenched tight, the pressure building sharp and sudden until it broke — heat flooding you from the inside out, your voice catching as you gasped and ground against his hand.

Hyunjin let out a desperate groan and came right after you, hot and heavy against his stomach, chest rising in ragged breaths as his hips jerked through the last few strokes.

You both collapsed sideways into the pillows, breathing hard, sweaty, trembling.

For a moment, it was quiet.

Then—

“That was…” you began, voice wrecked.

“I know.” He laughed, still panting. “I know.”

You turned your head to look at him. His hair was a mess. His lips were red. His eyes were soft now — not teasing, not smug. Just open.

“That didn’t feel casual,” you whispered.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

“No,” he said. “It didn’t.”

You didn’t know what would come next.

⸻

The worst part wasn’t what happened between you.

It was the silence after.

The way everything between you and Hyunjin felt louder because no one was talking about it.

You’d spent the last three nights pretending that orgasm hadn’t happened. That your fingers hadn’t tangled with his. That he hadn’t whispered I want to taste you while stroking himself, eyes on your mouth.

You didn’t talk about it. You couldn’t.

But the tension between you? You may as well have been shouting.

He sat closer now. Looked longer. He didn’t tease like he used to — not playfully, not harmlessly. Now every glance had heat. Every brush of skin felt intentional.

So when Jisung shouted across the living room, “Let’s play hide and seek — losers get a punishment dare,” you already knew something was going to go wrong.

Because you and Hyunjin couldn’t be trusted anymore.

⸻

You didn’t even plan to hide in the closet.

You were laughing, breathless, the count ticking down — Ten! Nine! Eight! — and you darted around a corner in the hallway looking for literally anywhere to disappear.

The closet door was cracked open.

You pushed in and—

“Shit—!”

A hand reached out to yank you the rest of the way in.

Hyunjin.

He shoved the door closed behind you both, muffling your gasp, then exhaled hard against your ear.

You were chest to chest. Pressed flush to him. The closet was barely the size of a broom closet — coats brushing your cheeks, the smell of old cedar, the wood beneath your bare feet cool from the tile.

“Seriously?” you whispered, half-giggling. “You’re here?”

“You ran into me,” he hissed. “Be quiet—”

Footsteps passed in the hallway. The sound of someone shouting: “Not in the bathroom!”

You both stilled.

And then you started laughing.

Quiet, breathy little giggles that made your shoulders shake. His hands were on your hips now, steadying you, his face so close you could feel his mouth twitch into a smile.

“Shhh,” he whispered, amused. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

“It’s your fault,” you whispered back.

“Yeah?” His breath ghosted your cheek. “Pretty sure it’s yours.”

Your back hit the wall as you shifted to give him room. But there was no room. Nowhere to go.

His thigh brushed up between yours. Your knee bent just slightly.

And that’s when you felt it.

The slow, unmistakable press of something hard against your hip.

You froze.

Hyunjin did, too.

“Hyunjin—?” you whispered.

He didn’t answer right away. His breath had turned shallow, his forehead dropping forward slightly to rest against the wall beside your head.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I can’t help it.”

His voice was low. Strained. Honest.

You swallowed.

It didn’t feel like a joke. It didn’t even feel like a dare. It just… was. Real. Present. Pressed right up against you.

The memory of that night came rushing back — the way he gasped when you moaned, the wet sound of your bodies moving in sync, the look in his eyes when he touched you like it meant something.

And now you were here.

Too close. Too warm. Your short dress had ridden up when he pulled you in, and your bare legs were brushing his sweatpants with every shaky inhale.

You should’ve moved away.

You didn’t.

Instead, you whispered, “This is dangerous.”

He nodded. Barely. “I know.”

Your hands were on his chest, fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt. His hands still sat heavy on your hips. Neither of you were breathing quite right.

And then—you shifted.

Just the smallest movement. An unconscious roll of your hips as you tried to balance.

And Hyunjin let out the quietest, shattered groan.

Your stomach dropped.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“Do what?” But your voice was thinner now.

“That.”

You did it again. Just to be sure. The press of your core against him was slow, experimental — your thin underwear the only barrier between your body and the thick, hard line of his cock beneath his sweats.

He whined.

Low, soft, desperate.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder. You felt him tremble.

“You can’t grind on me like that,” he breathed.

“You were already hard.”

“And now you’re already wet.”

The words punched the breath out of your lungs.

You didn’t say anything — couldn’t — and instead let yourself roll against him again, slowly this time, hips rocking once more into his.

His mouth dropped open. You felt it brush your skin.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” he groaned.

The coats swayed faintly beside you as he gently pressed you back into the wall, his hands tightening at your waist, thumbs brushing under the edge of your dress.

You gasped quietly as he rocked up into you, the friction too good, too familiar.

“I think about it every night,” he whispered, like it hurt. “The way you sound when you come. How soft you were. How hot your hand felt over mine.”

You were burning.

Your body responded before your mind did — rocking again, your arms slipping up around his neck to muffle a soft, stuttering moan into his shoulder.

He cursed under his breath.

Then he stilled. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

You didn’t.

Instead, you leaned in — your lips brushing his, breath against breath, heart in your throat.

And that’s when the closet door creaked.

“Anyone in here?” someone called.

You and Hyunjin froze.

Your mouth hovered over his.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you dared.

The door didn’t open.

Footsteps passed.

And the second you were alone again, Hyunjin exhaled.

You were still catching your breath when you heard it.

The soft click of the inside lock.

Hyunjin had turned the tiny latch on the closet door — sealing you both inside.

Your eyes darted to his, wide, breathless, heart kicking.

“What are you doing—?”

But he was already shifting you, gentle but firm.

Turning you in the dark, pressing your front to the wall of the closet, your palms flat against the wood paneling, your chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.

His voice came at your ear, low and wrecked. “I can’t pretend anymore.”

His hands slid up your thighs — slow, reverent, shaking slightly — fingers brushing the hem of your dress, pushing it higher until it was bunched around your hips.

You gasped when you felt it — the warm weight of his cock, thick and flushed, freed from his sweats and nestled right in the crease of your thighs. Hot, hard skin against the damp cotton of your panties.

“Hyunjin—” You tried to say something. Anything.

But then he rocked forward.

And your mind blanked.

The first thrust wasn’t deep, wasn’t precise — just a desperate press of his cock between your thighs, dragging the thick head right along your clothed pussy.

You whimpered.

Your knees nearly buckled.

His breath left him in a shaky hiss. “Holy fuck—”

You didn’t realize you were moving until you were rocking back against him — instinctive, helpless — meeting every slow rut of his hips with the arch of your spine.

The friction was perfect.

Each thrust of his cock between your thighs rubbed right against your clit through the soaked fabric. It felt filthy. Overwhelming. Like a fever dream you didn’t dare wake up from.

And then his mouth was on your neck.

Hot, open, wet kisses down your jaw, your pulse, his tongue tasting your skin like he’d wanted to for years. His hands grabbed your hips, greedy now, pulling you tighter against him with every roll of his body.

You were panting, trembling, moaning softly into the wall with every pass of his cock between your slick thighs.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice unraveling, “you feel so—shit—so soft.”

You turned your head, breath shallow, eyes finding his in the dark.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered.

His mouth crashed into yours before the word could fully leave you.

It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t careful.

It was desperate.

Tongue and teeth, lips parted, mouths gasping against each other like this kiss had been trapped between you for years. Like he was starving for it. Like you’d never survive it.

You grabbed at his hair. He groaned into your mouth.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling under the fabric of your dress, and suddenly he was palming your breast — rough, hungry, his thumb brushing your nipple through the lace of your bra.

You arched into his hand.

He bit your lip.

You whined, trembling, your voice cracking. “I need you.”

He froze.

Your words hung in the air — too raw, too loud, too real.

Then he growled, deep in his chest.

And his hand moved.

Down your stomach. Past the waistband of your underwear. Two fingers slid through your soaked slit and came away dripping.

He hissed, whispering something under his breath you couldn’t catch.

Then he hooked his fingers under your thong — pulled it aside.

And you felt him.

The head of his cock, hot and heavy, slipping between your folds. Your knees nearly gave out.

“Are you sure?” he breathed. “Fuck—tell me.”

You didn’t hesitate.

“Yes. Please—”

He didn’t wait another second.

He gripped your hip, braced a hand on the wall beside your head, and with a single smooth thrust, sank into you.

You gasped — loud and broken.

He groaned like it hurt.

Like he’d been dreaming of this for too fucking long.

You could barely breathe.

He filled you so completely you felt split open. Every inch of him slid deep, hot and thick, your body clenching around him like it had been aching for this—like it knew him.

Hyunjin stayed still at first.

Forehead to your shoulder, panting, hand tight on your hip like he was trying to ground himself.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You feel like heaven.”

You whined — a low, raw sound — hips rolling back into him, your fingers scraping the wall for anything to hold on to.

That was all it took.

His restraint snapped.

His hips drew back.

And then he started fucking you.

It wasn’t slow anymore.

It wasn’t careful.

It was frantic, overwhelming, wet — the obscene slap of skin-on-skin muffled only slightly by the coats around you, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs with each thrust.

You tried to be quiet. You really did.

But every time his cock drove into you, you couldn’t stop the moans — breathy and soft at first, then high and frantic as his pace picked up.

And when a louder gasp escaped your mouth—

His hand clamped over it.

Large, warm, shaking fingers curled across your lips, muffling the helpless sounds spilling from you as he pounded into you from behind.

You whimpered into his palm.

His voice broke right beside your ear. “I’m sorry, baby—I need you quiet—can’t let them hear—”

You nodded. Barely.

But your body was shaking. Your walls fluttering around him. And Hyunjin knew you were close.

So he got mean.

Rougher.

He slammed into you harder, his cock dragging across all the right spots, your thighs trembling from the pressure of each thrust — and the filthiest part? You were soaked. The squelch of your cunt around him was wet and loud and pornographic, and it only made him fuck you harder.

You bit down.

Hard.

Right into the base of his palm as his hand stayed tight over your mouth.

He groaned, bucking into you like it drove him insane.

“Shit—fuck, just like that—”

He lost rhythm for a second, stuttering into you, hand slipping from your mouth to your throat, thumb under your jaw to tilt your head back, mouth against your skin again.

Then he bit down.

His teeth sank into the soft curve of your shoulder as he buried himself deep, his moans muffled into your skin.

You swore you blacked out for a second.

You couldn’t tell which way was up anymore — just the overwhelming drag of his cock, the heat in your belly, the white-noise roar in your ears as your orgasm crept higher, hotter, inevitable.

“Fuck—Hyunjin—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby—fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight—”

You came with a cry into his wrist, your whole body spasming.

Everything snapped — the pressure, the tension, the weeks of unsaid things between you, all of it boiling over in that moment as you fell apart on his cock.

He barely held it together.

You felt him twitch inside you, pace faltering, his voice falling to ragged, desperate whimpers.

“Fuckfuckfuck—oh my god, I’m gonna—can I—inside—?”

You nodded, dazed. “Yes—yes, please—”

One more thrust. Deep. Hot.

And he came with a bitten-off moan into your neck, his body jerking hard as he spilled into you — thick, hot spurts of cum painting your insides, his cock buried deep as he rode out every last pulse, twitching and trembling.

You slumped forward, boneless.

His arms caught you. Held you there.

Both of you breathing like you’d run miles. Sweaty. Shaking. Still joined, still stuffed full.

The closet spun in silence.

And when his hand finally fell from your mouth, you whispered — voice shot, lips swollen —

“…We can’t ever just be friends again, can we?”

And Hyunjin, still inside you, kissed your shoulder like it was a promise.

“No,” he said. “We’re so fucked.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: HIIIIIIIIII!!!! Breakfast is served (or lunch or dinner lol) 😂 personally i think this is the filthiest hyunjin fic i have written… right? I cant even remember lol! So i got that closet idea from this edit… saw it and my brain short-circuited 😭🫠❤️ And now we are here!

Give this a lot of love! Also update; i have officially started writing my first original novel 🥹 ahhhhh

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