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pucksandpower · 23 days

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Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

2K notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

Note

Charles jealous and possessive please! Smut 🔥

no mercy.

CL x fem!reader - 4k celebration ✨

in which lunch with friends turns into charles reminding you that you’re all his

first 4k request up! thank you so much for this, wrote this whole thing in like half an hour bc damn this took me back to my charlie roots. i hope u love this anon, and all my lovely readers - lemme know what you think

warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, swearing, slight breeding kink, use of “slut” (in the sexy way tho!), lando causing his usual chaos (feat. shit stirrer alex), dom!charles/sub!reader, minor hints of corruption kink, slapping like once, fluffy ending

1.4k words

interesting.

the word you’d choose to describe this lunch is interesting.

charles’ hand seems to grow tighter on your thigh with every passing minute, or, to be more precise, every time lando speaks.

“so am i, ahem, are we gonna be seeing you at any races soon?” lando teases, raising an eyebrow, gesturing to alex sat beside him to cover up his slip of the tongue.

“i’ll be there whenever charles wants me there. maybe i’ll even get to see you win a race.” you laugh. you’re enjoying the company, but the impromptu lunch with the other two drivers seems to be riling your boyfriend up to new heights.

you know the brit is teasing him, and alex is lapping up the drama, stirring the pot. you certainly don’t mind if it keeps charles’ hand wandering higher up your leg. you’re just being polite, lando knows that, charles definitely knows that, but his tight smile and clenched jaw paints a different picture.

“i think we need to get going.” charles pipes up suddenly, after what feels like an eternity of silence from the monegasque man, and he throws a few hundred euros down of the table. “see you in bahrain.” he glares at lando pointedly, and extends his hand to you.

you take it, grinning apologetically at lando and alex, who both wear the same shit-eating grins. they know exactly what they’ve done and they’re lapping up the visible irritation they’ve concocted in their friend.

charles opens your door when you reach his ferrari, silently closing it and walking around to the drivers side.

 “not a word.” he grunts.

his hand slips into your panties as he starts the car, and your head tips back against the headrest.

he throws you onto the bed, no mercy, nothing forgiving behind his rage filled eyes. you wriggle up onto your elbows, watching the way his shirt sleeves are haphazardly rolled up, the way his hands rub together. your thighs clench. his jaw is ticking, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind, ideas brewing.

there’s no warning before pounces, shoving your floral dress up your thighs. he’s met with white lace, intricately textured, gone sheer with your arousal from the way he’d toyed with you in the car, and he sighs deeply, pained.

“this is what you wear out under this slutty fucking dress?” charles glares down at you, yanking at the fabric. the band snaps back against your belly and you gulp, hard. “nothing to say?” he tuts. “you didn’t seem to have a problem talking to my friends.”

“wore it for you, promise.” you whisper, eyes wide, pupils blown. charles scoffs.

“did you really? because it seems like you’ve forgotten who you fucking belong to.”

you don’t get a chance to reply because you’re stunned into silence when a tear sounds from between your thighs. you see a flash of white when he discards your underwear, throwing them to the floor. charles forces your legs apart, settling onto his belly as if he wants to examine you.

“still soaked.” he hums, impressed. “question is, cherie, for who?” he tilts his head condescendingly and your squirm.

as if to torture you, his nimble fingers trace your folds, spreading the wetness he’s created. you buck your hips at the pressure, it’s not nearly enough, and a low whine sounds from the back of your throat.

“all for you, baby.” you promise. “please, charlie.” you beg.

“is my precious girl getting desperate? hm?” he finds your clit, circling it with the pad of his calloused thumb. you nod profusely, and he’s obsessed with your compliance. “now you know how i felt watching him want you.” he spits.

charles plunges two fingers inside of you suddenly, and you cry out, grinding your hips to his rhythm. the stretch is so delicious that you barely register the burn, not that it matters with the way he’s slicked you up already.

“baby, ‘m all yours.” you’re getting desperate now, pleading with your eyes as much as you can between squeezing them shut every time your tummy tightens.

“i’m not so sure, think you need reminding still.” charles smirks, and his pace increases tenfold.

all you can hear is the wet slap of his fingers slamming into your pussy, his other hand teasing at your clit, just barely touching it. it riles you up endlessly, and your belly aches from how tight you’re clamping down around his hand.

“wanna cum.” you slur, dizzy from the shockwaves washing over you.

“ask nicely.” charles quips sternly, slapping your thigh. it sends a jolt through you and you can’t help it, spilling around his long digits.

you expect him to stop, to punish you for disobeying him, but he fucks you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s grinning when you manage to open your eyes.

“so that’s how you’re gonna be, hm? you wanna act like a slut, cherie? because believe me, i’ll treat you like one.” he speaks concisely, slowly, his voice low and threatening.

he points to your dress. “off. now.”

you scramble to peel it off, throwing it off of the bed, and your bra follows suit. you lay there bare, studying him. if you didn’t know him, love him, you’d think he’s his normal self, but you can see the way he’s digging his nails into his palm, can see the way his neck is flushed red. he unclenches his hands to undo his jeans, just enough so that his cock is on display, red and aggressively hard. you wonder how long he’s been like that.

charles kneels at the end of the bed, shifting until he’s hovering over you. the head of his cock nudges your clit, spreading the remnants of your orgasm over himself and your cunt, watching the way it flutters at the pressure. and then he’s sinking in, slow, deep. he’s heavy on top of you and you revel in the weight of him, his scent.

he grins when he bottoms out, letting out a low groan. he stills for a moment, looks at you, brushes a few strands of hair away from your pink flushed face.

“apologise.” charles coos, mockingly. your eyes well with tears, so much pressure swelling in your belly.

“charles.” you whimper, attempting to thread your fingers through his hair, but he catches your hand, sweeping up the other, and pins both of your wrists above your head.

“apologise.”

and you can’t help but ramble pathetically.

“i’m sorry, charlie, love you so much, ‘m so sorry.”

the feeling of his hips hitting yours is like water in the desert: luxurious, essential. the pace he sets is brutal, utterly fantastic, a stark contrast to anything he’s ever given to you before.

this entire experience is surreal, he usually dotes, whispers lovingly into your ear as he gently coaxes orgasms out of you. this could not be anymore different.

the power he exudes, fully clothed, rocking into your quivering, naked body turns you on endlessly, unlocking a part of yourself that you’d never let anyone else see before.

“you like it better like this, don’t you, cherie? when i fuck you hard like this?” you nod frantically. “pretending to be the sweetest little angel when really, you’re nothing but a dirty fucking girl, letting him gawk at you. bet you loved it, all that attention.” charles grunts.

you arch into him, the elastic band in your core growing that bit too tight.

“maybe i need to fuck a baby into you, make sure everyone knows you’re all mine.” he whispers.

that’s all it takes. you reach your high instantly, spurred on by the filth he spouts. the tight, hot hold you have on him makes him see stars, and then he’s cumming, too, spilling warm and white into you.

it’s quiet for a moment, the air still, the smell of sex settling over the space. you relax into the bed, and gently, he pulls out of you. he smiles softly, fingers grazing your sweat dampened face. he unbuttons his shirt as he walks to the en-suite, returning to you shirtless and with a warm, damp cloth.

you smile sleepily as he cleans you up, wiping away the mess he’s made between your legs - as best as he can, anyways - and then he strips off his jeans, and clambers into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms so that your back is flush to his chest.

“was that okay?” he asks quietly. you roll over in his arms, raising your head to peck his jaw.

“more than okay.”

“i didn’t take it too far?”

“baby, it was perfect.” you giggle.

“you know i’m not mad at you, right? but i swear, if lando ever looks at you like that again, he won’t be having kids.”

first 4k request happy dance 🕺🏻✨

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @formulaal

lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

2K notes · View notes

yunnuys · 16 days

Text

Sensitive

JJK men with a sensitive girlfriend

Incl (^_−)−☆ Nanami Satoru Choso Suguru Toji

Nanami Kento:

Nanami found out how sensitive your thighs were one night when he was driving you two home from a date night. All it took was for him to just rest his hand on your thigh and you immediately closing your legs around it. He raises an eyebrow at you but he doesn’t say anything, he just keeps driving.

The date always ends with a movie night, so you two are sitting on the couch. Nanami glances over at you who’s engrossed in the movie, that’s when an idea pops into his head. He places his hand onto your thigh and squeezes softly, you feel yourself tense up again. “You did it again.” You turn to him with an unreadable expression. “Did what Ken?” No use in playing coy cause Nanami can and always will see through you. He just raises chuckles softly knowing that he just uncovered something new about you.

That’s how he ends up between your thighs, one hand keeping them spread apart while he traces soft kisses up your inner thighs. It causes your legs to quiver in response, and a soft gasp to escape your lips. “Didn’t know you were that sensitive here.” He says as he eyes drift up to yours, suckling softly to leave a light mark on the flesh.

“M not…”

“Is that so?” Nanami smiled as his kisses trailed higher and higher until they reach the spot where you need him most.

Satoru Gojo:

Satoru is a boob lover! He loves all of them no matter the shape and/or size. He never leaves boobs alone. He’s always squeezing them, looking at them, and laying on them whenever he got the opportunity to. No matter how many times you swat his damn hand away.

Anyway when that time of the month was approaching your boobs would always get sore and especiallyyyyy your nipples. You would complain to Satoru in which he would always say “why don’t you just let me massage them?” In which YOU reply with “I don’t like the way your eyes just lit up, you’re too excited so no I’ll deal with it.” He just pouts like a big baby he is, asking- no pleading for you to let him help out. So you agreed. Which was silly of you :0

But you’re not really complaining when he has you on his lap, your back to his chest as he lifts your shirt up. It was going good as he used his hands to lightly massage the mounds of flesh. Until his fingers just slightlyyy brush over your hardened nipples, causing you to let out a soft moan. “Oh?”

“Don’t.”

“Didn’t know my baby was that sensitive there.” Satoru continued to tease your nipples, applying just the right amount of pressure that has you squirming in his lap and breathing heavily. “Satoru.. fuck-“

“Think you could cum like this?” Satoru can’t hide that stupid smirk on his face.

Choso Kamo:

You both are extra sensitive when it comes to sex. All it takes is one touch and the both are you are shivering messes. When you two have sex you both get wrapped up in the sensation it’s hard to stop, no matter how overstimulated you or him get. Well to make a long story short you two are just one big whiney, filthy, and loud mess!

You’re on top bouncing on his cock, a creamy ring of cum where you two meet. Choso holds onto your hips as he throws his head back, moans just falling from his lips. “Fuck fuck fuck..” The both are you are SWEATY from multiple rounds but neither of you can stop, not yet one more won’t hurt right? The way his cock is repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you and the way your walls are tightening around him is maddening!!

“A-ahhh… Cho ‘m gonna…”

“Fuck me too baby- shit I’m..” His words don’t finish as he spills inside you once again, the both of you gasping in euphoria. But! As soon soon as you two catch your breath your hips are moving against his again. “One more Cho.. jus can’t get enough.”

Anyways at least TWO more rounds after that!

Suguru Geto:

He is obsessed with your neck.. like he loves to buy you pretty necklaces so he can put them around you. Suguru loves it when you get slightly tense when he places kisses on your nape once he finishes clasping the necklace on your neck. “What was that for? You like that don’t you pretty girl.”

You could be in the kitchen making dinner by yourself when he suddenly comes up behind you and nuzzles into your neck. “Mmm smells good in here.” One kiss on the side of your neck. “Thank you Suguru I found this recipe online.” Another kiss to the back of your neck, his hands come around to rest of your hips. You can feel the wetness pooling at your core, pressing your thighs together as you focus on chopping the vegetables. “Kinda busy right now… save that for later.”

“Yeah? Later? Sure you don’t want it now.” Suguru nips at your neck, pressing his tongue immediately after to soothe the spot. His trails two fingers into the waistband of your underwear, feeling how damp you were. “You’re soaked and I haven’t done anything.”

“Sugu…” you whine trying to seemed annoyed but you make no effort to move or stop him.

Suguru just coos at you, burying his face into your neck as he buries two fingers inside of you. “Just focus on the cooking, let me take care of you real quick baby.”

Toji Fushiguro:

I’ll just get straight to the point because he knows exactly how to make you feel good. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows exactly how to make you cry for more… or less ^ - ^.

Toji has this thing where he won’t stop until you’re a crying mess. He thinks you look the best while he’s sucking and licking at your pussy, it’s already puffy and soaking from previous orgasms. He’s in heaven as your juices dribble down to his chin, your hands splayed in his hair. “T-toji.. c-can’t.. too much.”

He just responds by prodding his tongue at your hole, lapping at your wetness before he places his mouth on the part that makes you squirm the most. “You can take it I know you can just give me one more, you can be good right? I know you can.” Is the last sentence he says before latching onto your already overstimulated clit, sucking harshly on the swollen nub. And just like that your thighs are closing around his head as another mind blowing orgasm washes over you.

“What a good fuckin girl.”

ty for the love on the last one! If you have any requests or feedback I’ll gladly take them (^o^)

2K notes · View notes

grandprixwinnerlandonorris · 3 months

Text

The Interview | Lando Norris⁴

Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader

Warnings: smut

Requested: yes

A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3

Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.

Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.

As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.

“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"

"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.

His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.

"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"

Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.

"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.

Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.

Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"

For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.

You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"

“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”

“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”

Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."

Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.

“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.

Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.

You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.

“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.

You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.

You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.

The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.

Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.

"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.

"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”

As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.

You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.

The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.

Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.

“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”

"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.

You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.

Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.

Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.

Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.

“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.

“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.

Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.

Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.

“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”

His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.

Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.

Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.

“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.

You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”

Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.

“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.

His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.

“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”

“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.

“I was getting myself comfortable—”

“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”

His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.

In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.

Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.

As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.

“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.

You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.

“Then kiss me,” you breathed.

Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.

He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.

He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.

His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.

Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.

Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.

He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.

You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.

He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.

He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.

You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.

You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.

He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.

He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.

Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"

“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.

You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.

Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.

“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.

You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.

Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.

“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.

You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.

Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless.

You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.

You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.

You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.

As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.

With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.

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elexaria · 2 months

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poly! ghoap except….. johnny is the one who doesn’t like the reader 😮‍💨

he glares daggers into the back of your head whenever simon fusses over you, his calloused hand finding its way to the small of your back as he watched you cook up dinner with a content expression.

the only difference between johnny’s jealousy is that simon can tell, and it’s exhausting to have to deal with. johnny’s moping around in bed, stocky arms crossed as he huffs and puffs. simon scowls when he comes out the en suite and notices this, rolling his eyes. “what now?” he groans, thick blonde eyebrows knitted together out of frustration. johnny huffs again, seething as he refuses to even glance at simon, like a wounded puppy.

“what now? i’ll tell ye whit fer, simon william riley,” is how the argument starts, johnny just nonstop ranting and raving about how frustrating it is to see you practically glued to simon’s hip all of the time. simon’s jaw tenses, his head whipping around as he instantly dismisses johnny’s argument. he keeps his tone down, hushed so as not to make you uncomfortable from across the apartment.

he reminds johnny of the clauses to their open relationship, how the only reason they’ve found themselves in this predicament is because johnny can’t not think with his dick. “remember our old lodgers? i didn’t exactly hear you complaining when you were balls deep in them both. you didn’t hear me complaining, did you?” simon says in a lowly growl, towel drying his mop of hair as he strides around their room to find a pair of clean boxers.

johnny huffs, crossing his arms like a child. “this is different, si. i don’t… like it, ye ken? youse lot are too close for comfort.” he retorts, biting the inside of his lip hard enough to draw a bit of blood. “yer bein’ selfish.”

that gets simon’s blood pressure rising. he whips his head around, eyebrows furrowing as he storms back over to the bed, thick finger in johnny’s face as he glares right at him. “don’t you fucking dare tell me i’m being selfish. don’t even go there.” he warns him with a hushed growl, his piercing blue eyes glaring right through johnny, who tenses up at this change in tone.

the next week is tense for ghoap, and johnny doesn’t even bother showing his face for a couple of nights. one evening, you and simon are watching a shitty tv show together, and he doesn’t seem to be able to relax. you’re not an idiot, you know he’s had a fight with johnny. his usually stoic expression is strained, simon even absentmindedly chews on his lip whilst his fingers scratch into the sofas fabric.

“he’ll come back.” you gently say, rubbing his arm affectionately to ease his worries. he clears his throat, turning his head so you can’t see the tears pricking up in his eyes. “i know.” he gruffly replies, lazily reaching over to squeeze your thigh affectionately, his non verbal way of thanking you.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap #poly!ghoap x reader

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lixiepixiedust · 6 months

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Peach to my Mario

pairing — idolbf!leeknow x f!reader (From the Unveiling Love series!)

word count — 2.7k words

warnings — she/her reader, tiny bit of angst, stress, tooth-rotting fluff

summary — Minho always avoids showing affection to you in public which makes his friends and members worry about his relationship, thinking it might not be healthy. However, in private, Minho’s a completely different person. One day, he comes home early and takes the chance to invite you over. During a little gaming sesh, his members accidentally walk in on him being overly sweet with you.

It was just part of Minho's nature to avoid PDA. He never showed affection when you were out with friends, and he wasn't the type of guy to show you off or post you on social media, even on his private account. When you first started dating, you went out to dinner with Minho and some of his members and their partners. It was the first time you were out with him around other people. Whenever you tried to initiate any contact with him, he'd gently push you away and give you a look that said, "Not here," which, at first, bothered you.

This constant habit didn't go unnoticed by his members. They saw how he acted with you around them, which made them worry about your relationship. Some even talked to Minho, suggesting he show more affection, but he always replied with, "I know what I'm doing." This left them wondering, "Are they even a happy couple?" because that's all they knew. They were never shown the real side of Minho in a relationship.

You eventually got used to it over time, as he had a way of making up for it. When you two were alone, he was the sweetest. He showered you with love, and he wasn't afraid to show emotion. It was fascinating to see how different a person he could be depending on the setting, and as his girlfriend, you somewhat liked this duality. When he'd get home from an outing with you, he'd immediately pull you into a hug and smother you with kisses, becoming a completely different person than he was a minute ago.

You didn't complain about the lack of PDA anymore because you were grateful that Minho saw you as someone he could be vulnerable with. He wasn't afraid to share his struggles and ask for your help, and you appreciated the connection you had with him in this way. It was so rare for him to have such a bond with someone, which made it so precious.

One day, Minho arrived at his dorms earlier than usual, and it was a particularly stressful day. They were approaching a comeback, and the choreography needed to be finalized with a tight deadline. A professional choreographer was scheduled to review their dance, and they had to have it perfected by then. The pressure was especially heavy on Minho, as he was responsible for everything, being the main dancer in the group. Comeback season always brought a lot of stress for all of them. The producers had to handle the tracks, and they had to attend numerous meetings discussing potential concerts and promotions.

Usually, during this stressful and overworked period, he would be staying late at the company, leaving little time at home. So, it was rather unusual for him to arrive home early. When Minho reached the door of his dorm, he tossed his bag onto the couch and slumped into a seat. He unscrewed a plastic water bottle and downed it in a few gulps. Minho buried his face in his hands, threw his head back, and released an exasperated sigh.

He took his phone out of the front pocket of his backpack and texted your number.

"y/n, do you have a minute?"

right after he sent it out, it showed as "read," with an icon popping up indicating that you were typing.

"yea, of course. is everything alright?"

"i just wanna see you. and no one's home yet."

It shocked you that he was home already. You hadn't seen him for two weeks, given how busy he had been and how little time he had for himself. So, to you, it was surprising that he had texted you. You responded with a simple "kk" before getting up and preparing to leave. You were wearing gray sweatpants and one of Minho's shirts, but you decided not to bother changing, as it looked presentable enough. After all, it was just Minho.

You grabbed Minho's keys and phone, locking your own door as you left your apartment. Even though you had a car, navigating the busy downtown Seoul intersections often took longer than walking. Luckily, Minho's dorms were only a few blocks away, making it a short five to ten-minute walk. Upon reaching his building, you scanned your keycard at the lobby and opened the door after hearing the click. Minho had given you an extra keycard so you could visit him, although his roommates were unaware of this, as it wasn't something they would necessarily know.

You rode the elevator up to his floor, which was located quite high up, just one floor below the penthouses. Minho's apartment was notably larger compared to the others in the building, as he shared it with three of his group members. You went down the hallway and stopped when you saw his unit number.

You gently knocked on the door, not wanting to startle him. There was silence, so you decided to try the doorknob, and it turned out to be unlocked. You entered, taking your shoes off at the entrance before quietly making your way to the living room. As you entered the room, you found Minho sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the floor.

"Minho" You called out.

He jumped, snapping out of his thoughts and turned his head towards you. "You scared me"

"Did you not hear me come in?" You chuckled.

Minho shook his head, a small smile forming on his face. "I guess I was too lost in my own world."

You walked over and sat beside him, giving him a gentle smile. "Long day?" He nodded and leaned into your touch.

You wrapped your arm around him. "What can I do to help you relax?"

Minho sighed, looking at you with gratitude. "Just being here is enough. I missed you."

You smiled, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "I missed you too, Minho. "

"Thank you for coming," he said.

"Anytime," you replied, snuggling closer to him. "Why are you back so early, hm? Where's everyone else."

"They're still at the company, working on their own stuff now. I needed a break from the choreo, I couldn't think straight anymore," Minho confessed, rubbing his temples.

It was rare for him to take breaks for himself so you were glad he reached out to you in this moment. You continued to comfort him, running your fingers through his hair soothingly.

"You know you don't have to carry all the weight on your own, right?" you reassured him.

Minho nodded, appreciating your support. "I know, it's just... sometimes I forget."

"Well, that's what I'm here for – to remind you," you said with a soft smile.

Minho leaned into your touch, his shoulders relaxing as he let out a deep breath. "I'm lucky to have you," he murmured.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, letting the weight of the day slowly lift off Minho's shoulders. You could sense the exhaustion in him, not just physical but also the mental strain of the responsibilities he carried.

I gave a him a gentle squeeze. "Wanna play something?"

Minho looked at you, exhaustion still lingering in his eyes but a genuine smile playing on his lips. "That sounds good."

You made your way to the Nintendo Switch (Felix's, obviously) and powered up Mario Kart. As the game loaded, you handed Minho a controller, and soon, both of you were engrossed in the competition. The colorful characters on the screen and the playful banter between you and Minho helped to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

As you played, you couldn't help but notice the transformation in Minho. The stress lines on his face seemed to fade, replaced by genuine smiles and occasional laughter. It was moments like these that made you appreciate the private side of Minho that he rarely showed to the outside world.

"You're gonna lose so bad, Y/n, you don't know," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Yea sure," you shot back, a smirk playing on your lips.

The races became more heated, with Minho throwing himself into the game, making exaggerated gestures as he maneuvered his virtual car. Every time you pulled ahead, he'd let out a theatrical groan, clutching his heart.

"I can't believe you'd do this to me!" he'd exclaim in horror, slumping dramatically in his seat.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Come on, Minho, it's just a game!"

But for Minho, it was more than just a game. It was a battle, a challenge that he took very seriously. When the races got particularly close, he'd lean in closer to the screen, his eyes narrowing in concentration. And when you crossed the finish line first, Minho faked his death right on that couch. He'd plopped onto your lap and stick out his tongue.

As you and Minho continued playing, the atmosphere lightened, and the stress from earlier seemed to dissipate. The room echoed with laughter as the two of you engaged in a fierce Mario Kart competition.

However, little did you both know that the other boys had finished their work and were on their way back to the dorm. As two of them approached the door, they exchanged glances, wondering if Minho was still immersed in his work or if he had finally decided to take a break.

As the door creaked open, Minho was in the midst of a loud cheer, having won a close race. Your lips formed a fake pout, teasing Minho for his impressive gaming skills. Before you could utter a word, Minho grabbed your face and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. With a satisfied grin, he plopped back down onto your lap, his eyes shifting to the TV which displayed his victory.

His eyes were fixed on the screen, and he didn't notice the entrance of his fellow members. Seungmin and Felix stood frozen for a moment, taking in the unexpected scene before them.

Minho, still admiring his victory, suddenly felt a shift in the atmosphere. His eyes flickered from the screen to your face, and then he followed your gaze to the open doorway. There, standing in various states of shock and amusement, were his friends.

Minho's cheerful expression faltered as he registered their presence. He quickly disentangled himself from your lap, clearing his throat awkwardly and avoiding eye contact.

"Hey," he mumbled, attempting to regain his composure.

Minho's sudden change in behaviour didn't go unnoticed by them. The two exchanged puzzled glances, silently communicating their surprise at witnessing a side of Minho they had never seen before.

Seungmin smirked. "Didn't know playing video games could be so... intimate."

Minho's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he tried to brush off the situation. "No, just taking a break from choreo. Y/n happened to drop by."

You offered a friendly wave to the members, trying to diffuse the tension. "Long time no see."

"Didn't know he had such a soft side for you." Felix looked in your direction.

Seungmin raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, Minho, you've been keeping this hidden from us."

Minho avoided making eye contact with anyone. "It's not a big deal. We're just hanging out."

Felix interjected, "Alright, alright, let the man breathe. Maybe he's just trying out a new gaming strategy."

Seungmin smirked, "Yeah, because everyone knows that cuddling enhances your Mario Kart skills."

Minho sighed, realizing he was caught in a situation he couldn't easily escape. The members, still amused, decided to join the gaming session, pulling up chairs and grabbing controllers. The atmosphere lightened up again as everyone got immersed in the races. Amidst the gaming chaos, you felt a subtle shift beside you. Glancing at Minho, you noticed a small smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. Seizing the opportunity, you casually leaned against him, and to your surprise, Minho didn't pull away. Instead, he subtly wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer.

Felix, ever observant, caught the moment and exchanged a knowing look with Seungmin. A mischievous grin spread across Felix's face as he nudged Seungmin, who raised an eyebrow in response. It seemed like the members were enjoying this unexpected revelation of Minho's softer side. Minho's hesitancy towards PDA seemed to going away slightly. He didn't shy away when you rested your head on his shoulder, and he even tickled you a little during one of the races.

The night turned into a fun and lighthearted gathering, with laughter filling the air as everyone bonded over Mario Kart. The initial surprise at seeing Minho in a more vulnerable and relaxed state slowly faded, replaced by acceptance and genuine enjoyment of the moment. As the clock ticked away, the group decided to take a break from gaming and sat together in the living room, sharing stories and enjoying the dinner Jeongin had eventually brought. It was during these moments that you could see a different side of Minho showing the side that wasn't afraid to be affectionate in front of his friends.

The members of Stray Kids, who had initially been concerned about Minho's reserved nature in public, began to see the depth of his relationship with you. They witnessed the way he looked at you, the way he smiled, and the subtle gestures of affection that spoke volumes about the connection you shared.

After dinner, as the night wound down, the members bid their goodbyes, as you went over to the door to leave. Minho stood up, indicating that he would walk you home. The others exchanged knowing glances, teasing smiles playing on their lips.

As you and Minho stepped out of the dorm, the cool night air greeted you. The city lights illuminated the streets as you began the short walk to your apartment. The atmosphere was comfortable, a companionable silence settling between you and Minho.

"I appreciate you coming over," Minho said, his tone sincere. "It's been a hectic few weeks, and tonight was exactly what I needed."

"I'm glad I could be here for you," you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You don't always have to carry everything on your own, Minho. It's okay to lean on others, especially those who care about you."

He nodded, a grateful smile on his face. "Thank you,"

"Anytime," you replied, giving him a soft smile. "It was nice spending time with everyone."

Minho nodded, his hand finding yours. "I guess they know now," he added with a hint of playfulness.

You chuckled. "Well, it's not a bad thing. They seem to like this side of you."

He smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I can't escape their teasing now. They're gonna tell the other dorm all about it"

You squeezed his hand. "You'll be alright. Besides, it's nice to see you letting your guard down a bit."

Minho leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I guess you have that effect on me."

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to face Minho. "Well, this is me. Thank you for tonight."

Minho smiled, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. "No, thank you. I needed this more than you know."

You both exchanged a loving gaze, the unspoken understanding between you deepening. With a final goodnight, you entered your building, watching as Minho waited until you were safely inside.

As you settled on your couch, you decided to check your social media accounts before getting ready for bed. As you scrolled through your feed, you noticed a notification on Minho's private Instagram account. It surprised you because Minho rarely posted anything on his private account, and he had never posted a picture of the two of you before.

Opening the post, your heart skipped a beat as you saw a candid shot one of his members must've taken from tonight. It perfectly captured the essence of the night – both of you smiling at each other, a shared blanket over your laps, and controllers in hand.

The caption read: "Peach to my Mario"

Feeling a mix of emotions, you couldn't help but smile at the post. It was a small but significant step for Minho to share a piece of your relationship with the world, even if it was just on his private account.

"Photo credits?" One of the comments read, from Seungmin.

As you liked and replied to a few comments, you couldn't shake the feeling that this marked a subtle shift in Minho's approach to PDA. Maybe, just maybe, the night had not only been a release for him but also a realization that sharing moments of vulnerability with you and his friends wasn't something to be afraid of.

#lee know #lee know one shot #lee know skz #skz lee know #lee know fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids comfort #lee know fic #lee know imagines #soft #fluff #lee know fanfiction #lee know fanfic

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number1jeonginstan · 4 months

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A/N: Based on this ask right here! Please send feedback because I love to hear it! Also, this was such a cute write, but you know I gotta add my own twist (hehehe)

WC: 1.8k (kinda quick)

Pairing: Bf!Chan x Virgin afab!Reader

Wairing: Fluff and Smut! Loss of virginity, the reader is kinda scared of dicks (that's what was asked in the ask!), pet names (baby and sweetheart), unprotected sex (it's me and Chan, come on), cumming inside, f! fingering, idk what else

“It’s just weird to think about” you sighed, trying to explain your logic behind not wanting to have sex. Scratch that, you want to have sex with Chan, he’s been teasing you for weeks and your fingers haven’t been helping.

Even at the beginning of your relationship, you explained to Chris that you had never had sex, and he understood, telling you it was perfectly fine, but you didn’t tell him the reason why until a few minutes ago.

“I don’t think it’s that weird, it’s a reproductive organ that all men were born with” he chuckled, watching your face of disgust.

“Exactly, men were born with. I’m not a man, so I can live my whole life without seeing one” you emphasized as he came closer to you, nibbling on your ear. “You really can live your whole life without me inside of you baby?”

You whimpered at the thought, knowing that the last time you even looked at a cock, you were disgusted and genuinely petrified at the thought of touching it. “Maybe we can try?” you shrugged, looking up at him.

He almost groaned at the sight of your doe eyes pleading at him to give your cunt some sort of stimulation. You finally came clean about the reason you were so scared to have sex with him, even after watching you rub your thighs together in attempts to give yourself even a sliver of stimulation whenever he kissed you, he never wanted to pressure you.

“Are you sure baby? We will take this nice and slow, we can turn off the lights too, would you like that?” You simply shook your head at that, thankful you had someone who truly cared about you.

He got up from his bed, turning off his lights, and the dimness of his LED lights, the only thing covering his room being a purple hue, allowing you to see the outline of his face.

“Is that good baby?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice surrounding him. He slowly shifted you, placing your covered cunt against his thigh, flexing it slightly as he dragged you against it. “Feels good baby?” he asked, kissing your neck as you moaned.

“Feels so good” you whimpered as you continued to rut against his thigh, feeling yourself getting wetter. “Good girl” he chuckled as he flipped the two of you over, your back hitting the bed underneath you, head hitting the pillows.

“Chan?” you whispered, confused by what his next step was going to be. “Baby, you don’t think you would be able to take my cock without any prep?”

He slowly pulled down your sleeping shorts and underwear, basking at the sight of your cunt.

“What a sweet-looking pussy” he moaned at the outline, the light not being bright enough to make it out fully.

When you did feel confident in seeing him fuck you, he would ravish your cunt, eating it like his last meal. For now, though, he was going to get you ready for his cock, slowly dragging his fingers against your slit.

“Fuck Channie” you moaned, feeling his cold fingers running against your hot cunt, your mind slowly floating a bit away as you felt him put his first finger into your sopping hole, causing you to moan as your cunt clenched around it.

“Fuck baby, you need to stop clenching around one measly finger. How am I going to get you to take my cock if you can’t even take a finger?”

“Can take it Channie, please need more”

“Aww, baby look at you acting like such a good girl for me. If you want another finger, I can add another one just for you. You just gotta relax for me baby, can you do that?”

You just nodded, trying to release a little bit, allowing him to slowly add another one inside of you. “There we go, look at you being such a good girl” he said, kissing the top of your forehead as he began to slowly scissor the fingers inside of you.

“Fuck” you moaned at the sensation of his fingers inside of you. He was awe at the sight of you, you were taking his fingers so well, moaning at the feeling of him hitting your g-spot with his fingers.

He knew you needed another source of stimulation, you needed to cum, and he wanted to make you. He slowly dragged his thumb against your clit, causing you to arch your back slightly, your head still pressed against the pillows.

“Good girl, there we go” he kissed your lips before slowly pulling his fingers out of you, licking them. You watched in awe as he pulled them out, “taste so sweet for me baby” he groaned at your taste.

“Now baby, are you sure that you want my cock? I’m fine with us stopping here, but I’m going to need a cold shower”

“I’m sure” you said more affirmatively, “I want you to fuck me”

He groaned at that, slowly getting off the bed to get a condom. “Stop where are you going?” you asked a bit confused. “I’m just getting a condom baby, calm down”

“Please don’t” you whined, you wanted to feel him fully your first time, not wanting anything in the way. “Baby, are you sure? I know you are on birth control, but I want to make sure you are comfortable, we can use a condom”

“No Channie, wanna feel you fully, wanna feel all of you” you whined, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to your bed.

“Fuck” he whisperedd to himself as he pulled his shorts down his legs, throwing them god knows where, the same with his shirt. He couldn’t believe he was going to fuck your pretty little pussy, not to mention raw.

“Wanna help” you whimpered, supporting yourself on your elbows as you took his cock in your hands, a bit perplexed on how warm it was, but you ran your hand up and down it. You noticed how Chan threw his head back, a moan leaving his lips along with your name.

“Fuck sweetheart, if you keep going like that, I’m going to cum”

“What if that’s what I want you to do?” you giggled, watching his pupils dilate under the purple hue. “Baby, you should be glad it’s your first time, or else I would have fucked you for acting like a brat”

You hummed at his tone as he took his cock back in his hands. “You sure baby?” he asked one more time, waiting for you to say yes. As soon as you did, he ran the tip of his cock along your wet slit, causing the two of you to groan simultaneously.

“I’m gonna put it in now”

“Please do Channie”

He slowly started off with just the tip of his cock inside of you, your walls hugging him in so tight that he slowly began to push more inside of you.

It didn’t feel uncomfortable, just a bit foreign. You had never had anything as big as Chan inside of you before, so it was a new experience, but something you could see yourself getting used to and loving.

Chan could see you in your own head so he slowed down. “Is it too much baby, I can slow down”

“No, please don’t, feels so good” you whimpered as he slowly continued his almost snail like pace, pushing his cock inside of you. Chan knew he was big and didn’t want to hurt you to chase his own high. He wanted to make sure it was perfect for you, even if he had to go at such a slow pace.

It took a couple minutes for him to fully situate himself into your cunt, the tip so far deep that he could see your face contort in pleasure.

He let himself stay there, too scared to move, that was until you whined underneath him, begging to feel him move his big cock. “Fuck baby, you don’t know what you do to me” he whined as he slowly took his cock out of you before thrusting it inside of you.

He felt so good inside of you, but you needed more, needed him to go faster. “Please Chris, need more please go faster”

How could he disagree when you looked up at him with your watery doe eyes.

He began to thrust into you faster, causing you to whimper, his cock feeling hot inside of you, hitting your cervix with every thrust. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, can’t wait to fuck it all the time”

“Yes Channie, want you to fuck me whenever you want. Feels so good, so fucking good”

“Yeah baby, you loving my cock inside of you, want me to cum inside too?”

“Yes please please please” you pleaded, wrapping your legs around his torso, causing him to quicken his pace as he placed one hand over your clit, rubbing it in tandem to his thrusts.

“Yeah baby, fuck, can feel you clenching around my cock. I know you are close, why don’t you come for me baby, please cum for me” he whined, kissing your neck, leaving marks all over it. He needed to feel you cum on his cock, needed to make you feel good.

“Fuck Channie, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum” your walls clenched around him as a white ring was visible around the base of his cock, causing you to moan at the sight.

“Fuck gonna cum, are you gonna let me cum in this perfect little cunt of yours?”

“Yes, please cum in me” you whimpered, your entire body feeling overstimulated at his cock continuing to plow inside of you, him chasing his own high.

With a few more thrusts, he came inside, his head tossed back, allowing you to see his adam’s apple bobbing at the feeling of your cunt sucking in his cum.

He slowly pulled out, watching his cum and your own mix, slowly falling out of you.

“Wait here baby, let me clean you up” he quickly pecked your lips before running to the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth, running it down your legs before handing you a glass of water from his side table.

“Let’s go to the bathroom, I already started a bathe for you” he kissed your lips after seeing your tired nod, picking you up bridal style before placing you into his bath tub, him entering right behind you, allowing you to rest your back on his chest.

“How was it baby?” he asked, kissing your shoulder before hugging you.

“Amazing Channie” you giggled before slowly closing your eyes, surrounding yourself with him.

#ju <3 answers #ju <3 writes #stray kids #skz #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #straykids #stray kids smut #skz bang chan #skz smut #straykids smut #straykids x reader #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bangchan smut

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jayflrt · 6 months

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golden boy

❝ c’mon, this is exactly like the bahamas if you close your eyes. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, best friends to lovers, summer romance au, rich kid au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, underage drinking, heeseung is the biggest simp ever, and he calls you princess, mc has a stepdad, she is also a little spoiled in the beginning, tooth rotting fluff (like might be the fluffiest thing i’ve written), mutual pining ofc because this is a jayflrt fic, friends being insufferable (mainly 02z)

SUMMARY ▸ in the summer between high school and college, lee heeseung is determined to make you fall in love with the city of los angeles after your vacation plans in the bahamas fall through. somewhere between the lines, though, you end up falling for your childhood best friend.

WORD COUNT ▸ 16,375 words

PLAYLIST ▸ youth by troye sivan • tongue tied by grouplove • ribs by lorde • sanctuary by joji • cruel summer by taylor swift • stars by duncan laurence

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ i have been waiting AGES to share this one so i hope u guys like it !! ♡ also pls play stars by duncan laurence during the observatory scene if you’d like :’)

IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER VACATION WHEN YOU RECEIVED THE GOD-AWFUL NEWS.

“Your father and I are finally gonna have our honeymoon this summer!” your mother exclaimed, grinning excitedly as if she was expecting you to reciprocate the same energy.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t god-awful, but this was the one summer where you didn’t have to shoulder the responsibilities of being a student. Having recently graduated from high school, you were basking in the glow of finally becoming an adult and an incoming college freshman. You were finally free from AP exams, college applications, and the pressure of balancing academics and a social life. So, given all that, you were rather upset that your parents were leaving you behind before you had to fall into the routine of being a student all over again.

You didn’t mind having this talk. In fact, you were glad your mother was telling you in advance instead of just jetting away to another country and leaving a note behind. However, you didn’t understand why she had to have this conversation in front of your best friend, Lee Heeseung.

It probably didn’t help that you two had been joined at the hip since you were wearing diapers, but your families had gotten far too comfortable with each other. Just last week, Heeseung’s mom was asking you if you both had finally “tied the knot,” to which you replied by explaining that you had just graduated high school.

You were happy for your mother and stepfather, really. Your mother had experienced her fair share of bad relationships after your father left, so you were glad that she finally met someone so kind and genuine. You weren’t ever one to judge the men your mother brought home, but your stepfather always got brownie points for playing Mario Kart with you whenever he came over. Not to mention, he bought you the Nintendo Switch to play it on. He seemed to be the only man who didn’t feel insecure about your mother’s success and lavish lifestyle, so you only had good things to say about him.

While you were genuinely glad with the outcome of your parents’ relationship, that unbecoming, spoiled side of you was slipping through the cracks. Even your brain was shouting at you for complaining about having to stay in Bel Air for the summer. Yet, you were just far too frustrated with the bleak vision of your own summer to care about your parent’s honeymoon. In two weeks, you should have been vacationing in the Bahamas with a piña colada in your hand, not waiting for your parents to come back from Rome.

“That sounds so fun,” you chirped with fake enthusiasm, although you supposed it was easily detected due to your gritted teeth, “and that’s not gonna interfere with our trip to the Bahamas, right?” When she didn’t respond, you asked again, “Right, Mom?”

Your mother wore an uneasy look on her face at the sight of your displeasure, so Heeseung cut in quickly, “I think you should probably forget about the Bahamas this year, Y/N.”

“Heeseung!” you whined, sending him a sharp glare. He did not just tell you to forget about the Bahamas. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Not around your mom, dude,” he muttered.

“He’s right, Y/N.” Your mother smiled as she placed her hands on your shoulders. “I mean, it would be good for you to stay here with all of your friends for once; I don’t think you’ve ever not left the country for the summer.” When you sulked, your mother tried to encourage you by gently squeezing your shoulders. “Heeseung and your other friends are here, and you have a car now! Yeji’s family moved to Irvine now, didn’t they? You can drive down to see her.”

You nodded, a little more encouraged. You and Hwang Yeji had been close ever since you met at Choi Jisu’s birthday party in middle school. When Yeji’s parents decided to move to Irvine, finding that housing was much more expensive in Los Angeles County, you were absolutely crushed. Plus, it wasn’t like Orange County was any less expensive, so you felt even more bitter about their sudden move. It wasn’t like you could drive and see Yeji whenever you wanted, either; the one hour drive felt like three with all the Los Angeles traffic.

You hung your head, dejected. “I guess so.” You turned your head to the side, noticing the snicker that Heeseung was holding back. After shooting him a dirty look, you looked back at your mother. “When are you leaving?”

“This weekend,” she responded, eyes fixed on her phone screen now. “I have to sort out my PTO with my boss today, though.” She kissed the top of your head and started heading for the door, heels clicking against the linoleum flooring with each step. “I’ll see you later tonight, Y/N! And make sure Heeseung actually goes home tonight!”

You shot a glance at your friend, who didn’t seem to have a care in the world in reaction to your mother’s words.

Heeseung tended to be scared of everything—everything except actually scary things, like biblically accurate angels or the wrath of his mother.

You gave your best friend a condescending half-grin, which he returned sheepishly. As of late, Heeseung had become notorious for staying out late with Jay Park, Jake Sim, and Park Sunghoon. (Yang Jungwon often joined them, but he was adamant about going home before midnight. Something about not wanting to miss out on his beauty sleep.) Everyone thought this was the beginning of Heeseung’s teenage rebellion (which was rather delayed), but then you discovered that all they did was play games in an internet café and occasionally use their fake IDs to get into VIP lounges at clubs.

When you heard the door shut, you circled around the couch to sit next to Heeseung.

“This sucks,” you said flatly. “Summer means an ungodly rise in temperature—hot enough to melt the skin off my bones, and I’d rather have that happen while I’m sunbathing in the Bahamas!”

“Do you realize how spoiled you sound right now?” Heeseung snorted, looking up from his phone where he was playing Cookie Run from the umpteenth time. You swore he was addicted to the game despite the numerous times he told you he was just playing it as a joke. Your best friend continued, “You should be happy for your mom instead of complaining about your summer being ruined.”

You sank back in your seat. You hated to admit it, but Heeseung was right; you were being uptight about this whole situation. You just couldn’t help but feel disappointed about the one thing you were looking forward to all year long.

Heeseung leaned closer so that you both were shoulder-to-shoulder, and he nudged you. You looked over and were met with his dazzling grin. Frankly, you were honored that you were graced with his attention in the middle of his Cookie Run gaming session.

“You can spend the summer with me instead,” he offered.

You snorted. “That was gonna happen, anyway. You spend all your free time at my place.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Heeseung asked, brows knitting into a frown.

He looked at you so intensely that your breath caught in your throat for a moment. The proximity coupled with the shift in tone made you feel self-conscious, and you were scared that Heeseung was going to let some unspoken feeling slip.

However, his face broke into a mischievous grin. “You guys have a jacuzzi.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line and shoved him harder. This time, Heeseung was laughing as he fell against one of the cushions on his side. You grabbed one of the throw pillows and started pummeling him with it.

“You have your own jacuzzi, too, dumbass,” you retorted. “You’d know if you actually stayed at your own house for once! Also, you’ve lost your pool privileges here after you poured bubble bath in ours.”

“Come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

“You clogged our jets and we had to pay someone to get rid of the bubbles, Heeseung.”

“Jake was the one who poured the bubble bath in!”

“And who was the one who gave him the idea?”

Heeseung grimaced, and you were seconds away from reminding him how you took the fall for him when your parents asked what happened to the hot tub. Before you could, though, he spoke up.

“I was being serious, though,” he started, “do you wanna have a fun summer with me, or do you wanna stay bitter and do nothing?”

Something about Heeseung’s condescending tone was pissing you off. You stared at him before delivering one last blow with the throw pillow.

“Ow! What was that for?!” he exclaimed, rubbing his arm. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics; you didn’t even hit him that hard.

“I’ll see you later,” you told him, turning on your heel to head upstairs without seeing your friend out. “I have plans with Yizhuo now.”

You weren’t exactly sure how you became friends with Ning Yizhuo, but throughout high school, everyone knew the two of you came in a package deal. When you were in third period AP World History, everyone knew that Yizhuo would switch out of her second period section to be in your class; when you didn’t show up to calculus, it was no surprise that it was because you were ditching with Yizhuo; when Zhong Chenle asked Yizhuo out, he realized that commitment came with becoming your friend as well.

At first, you assumed that it was because your mothers were close, but that didn’t explain why you spent countless nights at her place and picked her up for school every single morning. Heeseung even once admitted that he was jealous of your friendship with her. He was drunk when he mentioned that, of course. He would never admit to that while he was sober.

When she got into a school on the west coast and you got into a school on the east coast, though, you thought your life was over. (When you figured out your meet-up plans were somewhat manageable, you felt a little better.)

On the bright side, you were stoked to attend Yale with your partner-in-crime, Heeseung.

“Wait! Let me drive you,” said partner-in-crime offered.

You turned to face him, wide-eyed. “It’s like a thirty minute drive, Heeseung. I’m going to her country club.”

Despite your protests, you knew that Heeseung would be more than willing to drive all the way over there. Hell, you could tell him you wanted to go to Las Vegas right now, and he’d somehow manage to arrange a trip for you two. You had never met anyone as spontaneous as him.

Now, though, you were trying to get away from him because you were a little bitter about his comment. On the other hand, you really didn’t want to drive alone, so you kept his proposition on the table.

“Oh, her country club? The one up north, right?” he inquired. “Can I bring Jake, too? We’ll just hang out at the mall while you do your thing.”

You mulled it over—not for long, though, because you found yourself caving easily. “Fine.”

You forgot that Heeseung bringing Jake meant that Jay and Sunghoon were coming along for the ride, too.

The three of them were squeezed in the back of Heeseung’s Tesla, with Jay incessantly complaining about how he had to take the middle seat. He even went as far as to compare heights, and Sunghoon used his one centimeter on Jay to his advantage. Jake remained silent for once.

You ran your finger along the smooth leather of your seat and snorted.

“Are you making fun of my car?” Heeseung asked with a chuckle.

“No, I’m making fun of how you dropped extra money for white seats.”

“And for the seven-seater.”

“What?!” Jay exclaimed, swiveling in his seat to look behind him. “And you still squeezed me in the middle seat?”

“Not my fault you didn’t look behind you, dude.”

Sunghoon and Jake proceeded to laugh at their friend, and you were about to do the same until you realized you had looked to see if Heeseung was laughing along with you. To your delight, he was. That, and the wind was blowing in his hair so perfectly. The golden sun shone across his face in a way that made his eyes crinkle up and his smile grow. You would always scold him for not having sunglasses on him, but, this time, you were a little distracted by how he glowed.

Heeseung then turned to you, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh. “What’s up?”

“N-nothing at all.” You coughed, tearing your gaze away to look ahead at the freeway. “Are we almost there?”

You just then registered how the backseat had gotten awfully silent, and when you turned to check on The Three Idiots (you deemed this title upon them back in high school, and it stuck), they all had Cheshire grins spread across their faces. It was a little scary, honestly. Their antics were nightmarish on their own, but what their eyes suggested was something that would haunt you. You fought down the heat creeping up your cheeks in an effort to appear indifferent, and you turned back to look at the GPS.

Ten minutes. You had to deal with them for ten more minutes. That was 600 seconds. Maybe you could tune out the testosterone if you counted down your arrival time.

To your relief, though, ten minutes passed by much faster because the four boys got into a heated argument over the superior boba shop in the Bay Area. You had to interject by reminding them that none of them were even from the Bay Area. Heeseung wound up going on a tangent about how he and Choi Yeonjun went on a day trip last weekend, which you would have remembered “if you were a better friend.”

You did remember, actually. Heeseung was texting you the entire time about Yeonjun forcing him to choose between him or a PS5. You presumed that Heeseung chose the PS5 because Yeonjun posted a black screen on his Snapchat story with the caption “dhmu” followed by a wilting rose and broken heart emoji.

(They wound up gaming all night afterward, anyway.)

The Three Idiots sensed tension from the back seat, so they started a new debate: the superior boba shop in Los Angeles.

You couldn’t believe that this was the depth of their conversations.

When you finally arrived at Yizhuo’s country club, you were being nagged by Sunghoon to get out of the car. He was eager to go to the mall and try out a new sushi place that everyone had been raving about. For someone who seemed to lack any seriousness, Sunghoon was extremely diligent about his frequent Yelp reviews; he even got promoted to the Yelp Elite Squad.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” you complained, shooting Heeseung a withering look—a please save me from your friends, which he grinned at. “Bye, then.”

“Have fun, princess,” Heeseung called as you were closing the door, and you were grateful your back was turned so that he couldn’t see the look on your face.

(“Princess?” Jay questioned. “Did you just call her princess?”

“It’s an inside joke!” Heeseung rebuked.

“And were you just checking her out?” came Jake’s muffled voice from inside the car, and a bark of laughter followed immediately after from Sunghoon and Jay.)

You shook your head when Heeseung sped off as quickly as possible. You could picture it so vividly; he would be defending himself to his dying breath, cheeks bright red as his mouth ran. Although you found it funny, you knew that Heeseung was probably just glancing out the window to make sure you weren’t too close to the car before he drove away.

“Y/N!” Yizhuo called from the entrance. You turned to see her clad in a cotton shirt and tennis skirt, standing next to Zhong Chenle. “Did you think we were swimming or something?”

Yes, you most definitely did think you were going to be sunbathing by the poolside. With a sheer cover-up over your black one-piece, you were definitely not ready to play tennis with Yizhuo and her boyfriend. You even had your red heart-shaped sunglasses on your head.

You let out a petulant whine, taking your walk of shame over to the two. “I’m already in the racquet club, so why would I come here to play more tennis?”

Yizhuo shrugged, but the one thing you loved about her was that she was flexible with plans. “I’ll just change into my swimsuit, then. I’ve been wanting to sunbathe,” she said before handing Chenle her racquet. “Looks like doubles didn’t work out. Are you and Jisung good with playing singles?”

“I don’t mind as long as I win,” Chenle answered with a grin. “See you two later.”

He was clearly delighted because you were probably the only competition he had to worry about. You were sure Park Jisung would complain when he found out that you weren’t going to be his partner. Jisung was utterly hopeless when it came to tennis—or, rather, he was scared of anything flying in his direction.

Yizhuo grabbed her Prada leather tote bag, pulling out a white two-piece with a gold clip in the front after some digging. She excused herself to change quickly, and came back within five minutes. You were grateful she came prepared. For her, though, it was inevitable considering she drove thirty minutes most days to lounge around her country club with Chenle.

“They’re renovating the banquet room right now,” Yizhuo informed as she settled into the lounge chair next to yours. “I was going to invite you for the opening next week, but you’re gonna be in the Bahamas, as usual.”

“Yeah, about that,” you drawled, “vacation plans fell through, so I’m not going anymore.”

“What?” Yizhuo sat up, startling the server who brought over cocktails on a silver plate. “But you always go to the Bahamas!”

You gingerly took one of the cocktail glasses, mouthing your gratitude before turning your attention back to Yizhuo. “My parents wanna spend their honeymoon alone, and Heeseung thinks I’m acting spoiled.”

Yizhuo smirked against the rim of her glass. “How is it that Heeseung always manages to come up in our conversations?”

“He doesn’t!” you exclaimed. “He’s just always around, you know? Like a fruit fly.”

“Just like how Chenle’s always around?”

“Chenle’s your boyfriend; Heeseung’s just a gnat.”

“I’m telling you, Y/N, you and Heeseung are the dictionary definition of couple behavior. I swear, you two are meant for each other.”

You sighed. “Heeseung and I have been best friends since, like, forever. Our relationship is just… different from my other friendships.”

Yizhuo raised a brow, a coy smile still creeping across her face. “So how come you refer to everyone else as friendships, but with him it’s a relationship?”

“Psychoanalyze much?” You sent a mocking smile right back at her. “Can I not have a friend of the opposite gender anymore?”

“You can have one that doesn’t make heart eyes at you,” Yizhuo replied with a scoff. “I’m telling you, the guy’s head over heels.”

“Whatever.” You slipped your sunglasses down to rest on the bridge of your nose. You didn’t want to think about potential romantic feelings for your best friend that could threaten the stability of your life-long friendship. “Let’s circle back to what’s actually important: my summer.”

“Poor Heeseung.” Yizhuo tutted. “Bahamas over love.”

“Love can happen any time,” you said, “but the window of opportunity only opens once, and that golden period is the summer between high school and college. Think about it, Yizhuo! Every summer after this one is gonna be loaded with classes, internships, and work.”

“So, what’s your game plan?”

You pondered on her question. There were only so many options you had, and, clearly, going to the Bahamas was not one of them. Honestly, you hardly felt like a real Californian with the little knowledge you had about what you could even do around your area; all you could think about was the beach or Disneyland. Plus, with Yeji doing a summer program in Irvine and Yizhuo spending her days at her country club, you didn’t have much room for spontaneous activities with them.

Unless you wanted to spend every single day like you would on a regular weekend, you had to find someone who knew how to make things fun.

And, unfortunately, that narrowed it back down to Lee Heeseung.

You turned back to Yizhuo with a sheepish look on your face. “I think I have an idea.”

“Be my summer escort service.”

“Excuse me?” Heeseung nearly choked on the tea your mother made for him. You watched as he set the cup down as delicately as possible while his eyes welled up with tears. He hit his fist against his chest a few times before calming down. “I don’t think you know what an escort service entails, but I think I know what you’re getting at.” He grinned slowly. “You’re taking me up on my offer.”

You did a lot of thinking on the car ride back to Bel Air.

A lot of thinking during the time when Sunghoon wasn’t complaining about the quality of the sushi place they went to. You were almost inspired to write a negative review yourself because of how passionate he was.

“Well, it’s inevitable that I’m gonna be seeing you almost every day, anyway,” you said, “so we might as well make the most of it, right?”

“I knew you’d turn around.” Heeseung reached over and ruffled your hair. “I’ll make sure you have the best summer of your life, Y/N.”

Lee Heeseung excelled at virtually anything. You were sure he would surpass your expectations with these impromptu summer plans, too.

You deemed the nickname “Golden Boy” upon him for this very reason, and it had everything to do with the fact that Heeseung was absolutely perfect at everything he did.

For a while, you even coined a theory that he had been created in a laboratory, specially designed to be absolutely flawless in every way imaginable. Of course Heeseung was born rich, smart, and handsome. Some people were just born lucky into the world, and, when you were younger, it was harder to accept that. Heeseung grew up with the world at his disposal; he got everything and anything he wanted, but that didn’t necessarily mean he took his privilege for granted.

You had to admit that Heeseung was a hard worker when it came down to it. Although he was definitely affluent as a fourth generation trust fund baby, Heeseung made sure his parents were never disappointed with his results.

Throughout high school, he consistently ranked first every single year, always coming right above you after the semester ended. Not to mention, he had even been scouted by several Division 1 schools to join their soccer team. He was even published at the mere age of sixteen for the research he did with a college professor. And, with a face and personality like his, any reasonable mother would’ve loved for their daughter to bring Heeseung home for dinner.

Another thing he never failed to accomplish was making you absolutely flustered.

“Well…” You turned your cheek. “I always have fun when I hang out with you, so don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late. It’s getting to my head.”

You groaned.

“Hey, we might as well have fun,” Heeseung tried. “It’s not like any of us are vicariously living through each other’s summer romances.”

“Whoa. You said ‘each other.’”

“Yeah?”

You shot him a questioning look. “You’re implying that you have a summer romance that I’m not allowed to live vicariously through.”

“What? No!” Heeseung frowned as he tried to do the mental gymnastics to piece together your reasoning. “I said—actually, you know what, it doesn’t matter what I said. Who cares about being cuffed? Let’s just enjoy the last moments of our youth.”

“You know what, you’re right,” you agreed, getting fired up just by his words. Maybe it was the realization that time was fleeting, but you were determined to have the best summer ever now. “This summer, I’m Percy and you’re Grover. No one’s getting in the way of our side quests.”

“Why do I have to be the half-barnyard animal sidekick?” Heeseung deadpanned. “Can’t I be Annabeth?”

“No, put some respect on a satyr’s title.”

Your best friend picked his cup of tea back up when it had cooled. He blew gently on the surface before taking a careful sip, and then confidently drank more afterward. He set his cup down again and held a finger up, signaling that he wanted a chance to speak again. You were half-expecting it to be about the damn Percy Jackson lore.

“Your parents leave soon, right?” he asked instead. You nodded in response, somewhat surprised about his inquiry, so Heeseung continued, “Do they need a ride to the airport? We could have a sleepover after.”

“I think—”

“We would love a ride to the airport, Heeseung,” your mother gushed from the staircase as she was lugging suitcases down, “but you’re going straight back to your house after taking my daughter home.”

Heeseung swallowed thickly. “O-of course, ma’am. Straight home.”

You pouted a little. “You’re not staying?”

He smirked a little at your reaction, and you were a little flustered and disappointed that you managed to inflate his ego even further.

“Nah, I’ll just—” Heeseung cut himself off quickly when he noticed your mother was suddenly towering behind where he was seated on your couch. “I’ll—I’ll go straight to my house, like I said.”

“Come on, let the kids spend some time together before college,” your stepfather chimed in, following suit with a suitcase of his own. “Y/N hardly ever gets to stay in LA for the summer.”

“We’re going to the same college, Dad,” you pointed out.

“Of course,” He walked over to ruffle your hair, and Heeseung stared up at him as if your stepfather was some respected higher power, “but you never know what could happen in college. People grow apart whether you like it or not, and the life of a college student gets busy, so you two might as well enjoy this summer.”

When all you could do was stare at your stepfather in horror, he added, “I’m not saying you’re gonna stop being friends! It’s just easier to spend time together now than it is in college.”

“That’s why I’m your daughter’s escort this summer,” Heeseung spoke up.

“Escort?” your stepfather pressed. “That’s… a little concerning. Keep it PG, you two.”

“It’s not like that!” you whined. “Anyway, Dad, don’t you have to get to the airport soon?”

He checked his watch quickly and nodded at your mother. “Y/N’s right. We should get going soon, honey. I’m gonna go make sure I didn’t forget to pack anything.”

With that, your stepfather jogged upstairs with Heeseung’s curious eyes following him suspiciously. When you nudged him, trying to figure out why he was mugging your dad for no reason, he grinned a little. He gestured for you to lean closer so that he could speak quietly.

You leaned in close so that your ear was by his lips, and Heeseung whispered, “He’s totally packing your mom’s honeymoon present.”

“How do you know?”

“Classic move. My brother did the same thing for his wife.”

You pulled away, covering your mouth with a shocked look on your face. You had to keep yourself from audibly gasping since your mother was only a room away. Your face broke into a little smile. Seeing someone care for your mother so deeply made you so happy, especially with how she was the one who usually put in the most effort in her past relationships.

All your life, you wanted a relationship that was the complete opposite of your mother’s; now, though, you aspired to find someone who loved you that much.

Speak of the devil. She was walking over as you and Heeseung exchanged mischievous grins.

“What’re you two smiling about?” she asked.

“Nothing!” You smiled and fixed her hair. “Have fun on your honeymoon, Mom. I’ll make sure Heeseung doesn’t get into trouble.”

“Hey!” Heeseung interjected. “I’m not even that bad! Honest-to-god, Jake’s worse than me—just ask Jay or Sunghoon. Actually, don’t ask Sunghoon because I think he has it out for me right now.” He paused before adding, “Now that I think about it, don’t ask Jay, either. Just trust me on this one.”

You scoffed. “Nice going, Hee.”

Your mother smiled, and you could tell that it was a little sad. “We’ll take you to the Bahamas next time, okay, Y/N?” She did a quick sweep of the room before leaning in a little and whispering, “By the way, your stepfather was really happy that you started calling him ‘dad’ the other day. I think he almost cried!”

You hated to admit it out loud, but you felt inexplicably happy at those words.

“I’m ready!” your stepfather called as he came down the stairs. “Do you have everything you need? Are we ready to go?”

“Ready as ever,” your mother answered and turned to your best friend. “Are you ready, Heeseung?”

“Yep.” He got up from the couch, spinning his car keys around his fingers. “Come on, Y/N. Time to say bye-bye to mommy and—ow! Don’t hit me!”

The car ride to the airport wasn’t too long, but you and Heeseung fell into an uncomfortable silence while your parents were gushing about their vacation plans to each other. They weren’t even sitting next to each other. Your mother sat next to you in the back seat and your stepfather sat in the passenger’s seat to accompany Heeseung, but they were still going back and forth. You nearly considered asking your stepfather to switch seats with you so that you wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of their incessant flirting.

When Heeseung pulled up to the drop-off zone, however, your parents pulled themselves together in record time. You received two kisses on your head from each parent after they got out of the car.

“Heeseung, let’s walk together for a bit,” your stepfather called. When you exchanged a shocked look with your best friend, your dad clicked his tongue with a laugh. “Just until the gates over there. I need some help carrying my bags.”

Heeseung, floundering for words, wound up not saying anything and scrambled to get out of the car to help him out. The conversation seemed to be light and easygoing, but you were craning your neck out of the car window to get a glimpse of what the hell was going on.

“Mom,” you whispered harshly, “tell me Dad isn’t telling Heeseung something weird right now. He’s still traumatized from the time he was interrogated about being my Homecoming date last year.”

Since neither you nor Heeseung had actual dates for the Homecoming dance last year, he made you a poster and asked you to be his date at your doorstep. At the time, you two were binge watching Parks and Recreation together, so he used that as inspiration for your poster: Please don’t REC my plans and say KNOPE to Homecoming. You vividly recalled being impressed by how neat the handwriting was only to be told later that Yeji helped Heeseung make it.

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Your mother waved it off. “You should be more worried about how Mrs. Lee calls us in the middle of the night and asks where her son is. That’s gonna traumatize your friend.”

Wow. Lee Heeseung was already a pain in the ass to begin with, and only now you realized how his mother had it a thousand times harder.

“Have a safe trip, okay?” you told your mother after you helped her bring the rest of her bags to the gate. “And—don’t worry—I know when the gardener's coming by, so I’ll be home to let him in.”

She smiled fondly and kissed your forehead. “I’ll text you when I land,” she said. “Have fun, sweetheart, but not too much fun.”

“Mom!” you complained, cringing at whatever she was implying.

Heeseung and your stepfather were already at the front doors, and your best friend’s eyes lit up at the sight of you. You wondered if he needed saving from your father, and you confirmed this when you noticed him cower a little after shaking your stepfather’s hand.

“Heeseung,” your mother started, “thanks for bringing us here. I made brownies in the afternoon, so make sure Y/N gives you some before you go home.”

“Brownies?” Heeseung turned to you with a grin and thanked your mother profusely. “I hope you guys have a fun trip.”

After you all exchanged goodbyes, you and Heeseung headed back to his car. You were able to watch your mother and stepfather disappear into the crowd, a strange feeling lingering in your chest. You weren’t sure what it was, but you supposed you felt a little lonely. This was the first summer you were spending without your parents, and you weren’t sure what to expect.

As if Heeseung could read your mind, he said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have a fun summer.”

“It better be the best summer of my life.”

Heeseung laughed and opened the passenger’s side door for you. “Then let’s start now.”

“Huh? Right now?”

“Let’s get bingsu,” he said. Come to think of it, you were craving shaved ice; you had mentioned it to Heeseung last week. “You said you were hungry, right? And then we can go home and dig into those brownies your mom made.”

“I never said anything about being hungry.”

“But you’re hungry, right?”

The corner of your mouth twitched before breaking into a little smile.

“Alright, let’s go.”

In all honesty, you didn’t expect anything special from Heeseung. That was why you had your own plans laid out for the coming week, and first on your agenda was going shopping with Yizhuo in Beverly Hills. Since your best friend was so adamant on spending the summer with you, though, you let him tag along.

“I hate you,” he muttered through gritted teeth as you handed him yet another shopping bag—Armani, this time. Heeseung was carrying at least six of them, letting them dangle off of his arms. “I said I’d show you how to have fun, not be your butler.”

“You said you would be my summer escort service.”

“Not like this!”

“Y/N, I swear,” Yizhuo started in a low voice, only loud enough to hear (although you wished you didn’t), “he’s like your boyfriend.”

You sped up to walk ahead of Heeseung, and Yizhuo matched your pace. Your poor best friend was lagging in the back, trying to keep up with the weight of your spending spree in his hands. Even though you told him virtually everything, this was a conversation that you couldn’t let him hear.

“He’s just my escort this summer!” you defended.

“His dad’s the senior vice president at Apple. You really think Lee Heeseung would just agree to be anyone’s manservant?”

“Well, I’m not anyone; I’m Y/N, and Heeseung and I have been best friends since forever, so it shouldn’t be surprising that he wants to spend time with me.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a little strange.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved off her concerns and pulled out your phone. “By the way, is the group hanging out tomorrow or something?”

“I kept seeing it in the groupchat, but I wasn’t sure whose house it was at,” Yizhuo replied. She turned and called, “Heeseung! Do you know whose house we’re all going to?”

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Mine.”

“Yours?” you chimed in. “I thought Jake said it would be at his place.”

“He backed out ‘cause his cousins are visiting this week,” he clarified, “so I offered mine. My parents are going out of town, anyway, so why not?”

You were surprised that Heeseung was willing to host. Most of the time his house was the absolute last resort because he hated cleaning up after everyone. For this reason, it was normally at Jake’s house because he was the only one who would tidy up himself without nagging everyone else (read: Jay Park).

You always went to Heeseung’s place on your own. There were never times where the entire group hung out there together, so it felt like everyone was encroaching on your space with Heeseung.

Even though it was his house, technically.

“You’re coming,” Heeseung added, pointing straight at you with narrowed eyes.

You frowned. “You can’t decide that for me!”

“You agreed to let me be your summer escort service, so it’s within my power,” he argued.

You made a frustrated sound. “Fine. It better be fun, though. I’m sacrificing my Pretty Little Liars marathon for you.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “We can just watch it together.”

“Lovebirds!” Yizhuo interjected. “I would’ve called Chenle if I knew I was gonna be a third wheel.” Both of you turned to her with wide eyes, watching the blonde’s lips curl up in a small smirk. “What?”

“That’s not what any of this is,” your best friend grumbled.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”

Heeseung shook his head, completely turning his face away from you. You managed to catch the tips of his ears flaming bright red. It was rather easy to make Heeseung flustered, so this wasn’t something out of the ordinary, but, for some reason, you felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

He walked ahead, saying something along the lines of, “Let’s just keep shopping!”

You and Yizhuo exchanged a look before hooking arms and bursting into a fit of giggles.

Yizhuo called after him, “We’re going to Miu Miu next!”

Slumber parties with your friend group sounded cute and tame, in theory. Add six men into the mix, and they became slightly terrifying.

“This is why we need to make plans in our group chat without the men,” Shen Xiaoting muttered to you with her eyes fixed on Heeseung’s flat screen TV. “This is not the girls night I was envisioning.”

Your friend group of eleven (excluding Yeji, who was away for the summer) was currently playing their ninth round of Mario Kart 8. You were all taking turns, though, since the game only catered to co-oping with four people. Frankly, you were starting to get tired of the game after about five rounds. You were hellbent on beating Jay, who was talking smack about how terrible you were at gaming, but it turned out that he was no better. You ended up beating him in the first race itself, and now you were just waiting for them to wrap it up.

“Fuck,” Jake hissed once Choi Beomgyu used his blue shell on him. Jake had been consistently winning every game he played despite everyone trying to get him in last place; in the last round, Kim Minjeong made a valiant effort to use most of her Crazy 8 items on him.

You were surprised that Jake showed up in the first place. Everyone suspected that he would be stuck at home because of his cousins visiting, but he somehow managed to get his way out of it. Although he was late, he showed up at Heeseung’s door with a pillow and a handle of cheap vodka. It probably tasted rancid, but there was no room for anyone to complain.

“Get the item box, get the item box!” Chenle yelled. “But you’re kind of screwed if you don’t get a super horn or a super star.”

“So, when are we wrapping up Mario Kart?” Nakamura Kazuha asked, sighing in frustration after being hit with a shell for the umpteeth time.

“Uh, after this game,” Heeseung replied.

“And how many more rounds is that?”

“Three.”

“Jesus Christ.”

The only girl in your group who enjoyed gaming was Yizhuo, but even she was tired of the seemingly endless rounds. Since the boys were going along with the girls’ plans later on, though, you had to be patient. Appease them with Mario Kart, and then the rest of the night was yours.

Somehow, you managed to grit your teeth and sit through the next three rounds (won by Jake, Yizhuo, and Beomgyu, respectively). Afterward, Jake got up to grab the case of Mike’s Harder on the kitchen island. He proceeded to open it up and hand each person a can.

Xiaoting cracked open her can and asked, “How’d you even buy these? Didn’t your dad confiscate your fake or something?”

Around a few months ago, Jake’s dad had caught him wasted at one of their charity galas. Apparently, the Sims didn’t care too much about their son drinking, but they were furious about Jake acting disorderly in front of their guests. Naturally, Jake was grounded for a month and got all four of his fake IDs confiscated. He deeply missed the one from Connecticut where his name was printed as Nathan Fielder, even though Jake looked nothing like Nathan Fielder.

“I got Vernon to buy them for me,” Jake said, “and please don’t remind me about the fakes. It still wounds me to this day.”

You remembered you used to have a little crush on Vernon Chwe, who was a senior when you were a freshman. When he graduated, you almost cried actual tears, but you stayed strong when you went to congratulate him after the ceremony. You figured he would have been a little freaked out if you started breaking down out of nowhere.

Jay, who was inspecting the handle of SKYY Vodka, let out a scoff. “Vernon? Then you could’ve at least asked for good vodka.”

“We can just make mixed drinks,” you spoke up, scrunching up your nose at the memory of blacking out because of alcohol during your prom afterparties. “Plus, it’s not like we’re actually trying to get drunk tonight.”

“Yeah.” Heeseung stood up and rested his arm on your shoulder. “Y/N and I can make the drinks. The rest of you can help put snacks out. Someone can put a movie on, too.”

Since everyone was impressed with Heeseung taking the lead for once, the plan was set into motion. While Kazuha and Sunghoon bickered over which movie to play, the rest of your friends brought out different snacks for the movie. Arguably, you and Heeseung had the hardest job, but you didn’t need any extra hands for drinks. By the time it took you two to finish eleven mixed drinks, they probably would have settled on a movie.

You looked back to see Heeseung eyeballing a shot into a glass cup, and then he proceeded to down its contents. You cringed when you saw him drinking. The last time he got drunk resulted in you trying to calm him down after he went on a long rant about how he just ate sushi, and the alcohol in his system would cause the raw fish to start swimming. You had to convince him that no, vodka would not bring an already dead and sliced-up fish to life.

Heeseung’s face soured and he pushed the handle aside. “Y’know what, let’s just take something from my parents’ liquor cabinet. This shit is vile.”

“You got triple sec and decent vodka?” you asked. “We could make Lemon Drops.”

“You read my mind.”

“You weren’t even thinking about that, were you?”

“Not at all.”

While you and Heeseung were making the drinks, though, you noticed some giggles coming from the living room. You raised your head to see about five of your friends look away as fast as they could. It hit you before you had time to process what was going on; they were making fun of you and Heeseung together.

You had no clue why. Sure, Heeseung and you had some strange moments here and there. But you two were just making drinks, for crying out loud. Nothing about the situation warranted this reaction from them.

You side-eyed Heeseung to see if he noticed. Thankfully, he was just focused on pouring the right amount of vodka so he didn’t accidentally kill anyone. You, on the other hand, were fighting down the heat rising in your chest.

After a brief war between you and Yizhuo, consisting of you glaring at her and her smirking at you, you ended up setting down a glass and sighing.

“Heeseung,” you said, “go crazy with the vodka in the rest of their drinks.”

“Huh?” he asked, genuinely contemplating whether or not to do it.

“Pour as much as your heart desires,” you muttered and set down six of the Lemon Drops on a tray with a little too much force. Without sparing him a glance, you picked up the tray and went to the living room to hand everyone their glasses. While you handed Yizhuo hers, though, you whispered, “I despise you.”

She grinned. “What? Still denying you like him?”

“I don’t like—”

“You like someone?” Heeseung called from the island, completely frozen in place.

You turned and stared at him, mouth agape.

Chenle spoke up, “No, she likes y—”

You kicked Chenle’s shin with enough force to shut him up, and he grunted before he could continue his sentence. Satisfied, you turned back to Heeseung and shook your head quickly.

“They’re just being idiots,” you explained. “Hurry up with the drinks. We’re watching My Best Friend’s Wedding.” You did a double take and turned back to Yizhuo, harshly whispering, “Why the fuck are we watching My Best Friend’s Wedding?!”

Yizhuo removed Chenle’s hand from her knee and stood up to loop your arm with hers. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, but she was already dragging you away from the living room. “Is that movie supposed to be some sort of sick message?”

“Oh, good. So you’re aware.”

After making some excuse about needing your assistance to get something from her bag, Yizhuo walked with you to the foyer until she turned on you. You nearly tripped backward over one of the boys’ shoes, so you used the wall to regain your balance.

“Tell me what’s going on between you two,” she ordered.

You let out a sound of exasperation. “Yizhuo, for the last time, Heeseung and I are just friends. That’s all there is to it.”

“I’m just saying, the two of you are going to college together and all, but you have to sort out your feelings before you end up figuring them out after Heeseung finds someone else,” she said. “I mean, what’re you gonna do when Heeseung starts dating someone else? He looks decent enough to pull, so there’s no telling what’s gonna happen when he’s cut loose in Yale.”

You snorted. “He’s already cut loose. I highly doubt Yale’s gonna change anything.”

“You never know. I just don’t want you to realize your feelings too late—you know, when things get messy.”

You both were silent for a few seconds before Beomgyu called, “Y/N, Yizhuo, we’re gonna start the movie!”

“Coming!” you responded.

You chose not to respond to your best friend because you truly had no idea what to think, but it did leave seeds of doubt in your head. It almost distracted you from the fact that Heeseung grabbed your arm and pulled you to sit down next to him. This was bad; you were quickly becoming overly self-conscious of every little thing he did, and that would not bode well for your friendship.

Whatever, you told yourself. Push it down.

“Are there any more pillows?” you asked, scanning the room to see that everyone seemed to have one except you. You looked back at Heeseung and narrowed your eyes at his throw pillow. “Give me yours.”

“What? No way.”

“I wanna lay down,” you whined. He was really the only person you could act a little spoiled around. “Give me your pillow before I—”

Before you could finish, Heeseung threw his arm around you and pushed your head down so that you were laying on his lap. You were startled with the sudden gesture, but you didn’t complain. He was comfortable, after all, and you two usually watched movies like this in your house. So, you adjusted your position a little and continued watching the movie, making a mental note to scold Heeseung later for being all touchy in front of the friend group.

What you weren’t used to, though, was the way he started threaded his fingers through your hair.

You did the only thing you knew how to do in order to deflect; you showed Heeseung a TikTok of a baby otter. Your volume was all the way down, but you still bookmarked the video.

“Look,” you whispered, holding up your phone. His gentle fingers did not stop running through your hair, but at least you could hold onto his friendly hum of acknowledgement. It was the only thing that made any of this feel remotely platonic. “It’s a little guy.”

“Oh, it’s so cute,” Heeseung mused. “Kind of reminds me of you.”

Screw platonic.

He just grabbed platonic and drop kicked it to the next dimension.

That was it. You were going to put your phone away and ignore Heeseung for the rest of the movie. The rest of the movie would be watched in complete silence. In fact, you weren’t going to spare Heeseung any attention for the rest of the sleepover.

That didn’t end up happening, though. Ten minutes later, you cracked and started commenting about the movie to Heeseung. Unbeknownst to the others, you two ended up texting each other messages that threatened to make you burst into laughter. Even though you were sitting right next to each other, you felt like this made your conversation feel like a little secret, like even Heeseung wanted to keep what you two had to himself.

When the movie ended, you two were surprisingly still awake, although there were several moments where you were tempted to doze off on Heeseung’s shoulder. Minjeong, Beomgyu, and Jay were still up, and they were taking pictures of Chenle and Yizhuo to send to the group chat. You immediately separated from Heeseung, feeling a little terrified that you two would be the victims next. However, the others were so preoccupied with Chenle’s arms wrapped around his sleeping girlfriend and their foreheads pressed together.

“Should we wake them up?” Kazuha asked.

“Nah, let them sleep,” Heeseung answered and stood up. “I’m gonna brush my teeth. You guys can use the other bathrooms—just not the one in my parents’ room.”

Minjeong stretched as she let out a yawn. “Alright, I’m gonna wash up, then. I’m exhausted.”

After Minjeong, Beomgyu, and Kazuha left the room to get their bags and wash up, you stared at Heeseung. Your best friend looked confused until you pointed toward his glass.

“Chug it,” you said with mischief dancing in your eyes.

“You’re kidding. It’s bedtime.”

You mocked a pout. “You’re gonna waste the drink I made just for you?”

“Oh, come on—we made it for everyone!”

“But I definitely made this one.” You took the glass and held it out to him, which he ended up taking reluctantly. “I wanna see you finish it.”

After a wince, Heeseung tilted the cup back and downed the contents. Although his face scrunched up, he relaxed once he had finished swallowing it down.

“That was actually pretty good,” he said.

“See? When have I ever let you down?”

“Honestly? Many times.”

You elbowed him in the side. “Hey!”

“Kidding!” Heeseung held his arms up in surrender before wrapping them around your waist. Another gesture you weren’t quite used to, but you went along with it. There was something funny about Heeseung; nothing he did ever made you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, but sometimes you weren’t sure if it was meant to be friendly. “Let’s go brush our teeth.”

“I can just use the bathroom on the second floor.”

“Huh? Just use the one in my room,” he said. “Come on.”

You hesitated before following your best friend upstairs. First of all, you were feeling overly-conscious about going into Heeseung’s room with him. Secondly, you weren’t too enthusiastic about the fact that you had to use a man’s bathroom.

To Heeseung’s credit, he kept his room and bathroom mostly spotless. Sure, there were a few sweaters piled over the head of his chair and some books left scattered across his desk, but it was definitely cleaner than Jake’s mess of a room. You remembered Yeji stepping across his piles of dirty clothes left on the floor, as if they were hazardous to her health.

As soon as you stepped into the grand bathroom, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It wasn’t the first time this happened, so you knew to just take one of the unopened toothbrushes from the drawer. However, Heeseung told you they moved some things around, so you wound up searching for the spare toothbrushes for around five minutes.

It was almost ridiculous how Heeseung needed a bathroom bigger than a living room.

You two brushed your teeth side-by-side. Heeseung occasionally cracked jokes that made you giggle and tilt your head back so that your toothpaste wouldn’t dribble down your chin. When that happened, he reached over and wiped your lower lip with his thumb, despite your complaints about how gross that was.

But, to you, it wasn’t really all that gross.

If only Heeseung knew how his actions made your cheeks burn hot under your skin.

The next week was interesting, to say the least.

Heeseung wouldn’t let you rest for a second. You were going out with him every single day, having to see his face from sunrise to sunset. Even when it was nightfall, he would just invite himself over to your place and crash on your couch.

You pointed out that you had a perfectly tidy guest room for him to use, but he insisted that he preferred your couch. You didn’t mind him sprawled out across the cushions because you could take as many pictures of him sleeping as you pleased. You would show him your collection later when he woke up, and Heeseung would get embarrassed to the point of tickling you until you were in hysterics and gasping out that you would delete the pictures from your camera roll.

At this point, it was almost like you two were living together. Even though his parents were out of town, you felt slightly anxious about one of the adults in your parents’ circle discovering what you and Heeseung were up to. Not that it was anything scandalous.

But, you had to admit, you were having fun.

On Monday, Heeseung took you to the beach. You complained incessantly about waking up at six in the morning for cold water and sand all over your clothes, but you managed to drag yourself out of bed. Still, Heeseung had to put up with your grumbles and groans until you were energized enough to stop complaining. All it took was Heeseung feeding you a granola bar and making you coffee while you did your hair.

“C’mon,” he told you, the wind sweeping his hair to the side as the first rays of sunlight shone bright against his glowing skin, “this is exactly like the Bahamas if you close your eyes.”

“Uh-huh.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you spent the entire day at the beach with Heeseung, anyway. You finally warmed up to going into the water with him, letting him take your hands and guide you deeper until the water was up to your waist. At one point, a particularly heavy wave pushed him closer to you until you both were chest-to-chest. You had to hold onto his bicep to keep yourself from floating away. And you swore you caught Heeseung checking you out in your bikini later on, but he turned away with pink-tinged ears immediately after.

Later, when the sun was starting to set and you retreated from the water to curl up in your towel, you sat on your large beach towel and waited for Heeseung to bring over food from the food trucks. The tide was getting higher, so you had to move yours and Heeseung’s belongings further up the sand.

Heeseung returned with two takeout boxes of tacos, taking a seat next to you with a relieved sigh. Since you two hadn’t eaten a proper lunch, you had been waiting for this meal all day. You were properly tuckered out from all the swimming and beach volleyball, so you dug in immediately.

“Good?” Heeseung asked, watching you eat with a small smile on his face. He must have been impressed that you practically inhaled your first taco in under five seconds.

“Good,” you confirmed, voice muffled.

With the back of your hand shielding your eyes, you looked off into the horizon to watch the sunlight ripple across the water’s surface.

And, yeah, maybe it was a little like the Bahamas.

Just a little.

You didn’t expect Heeseung to wake you up on Tuesday morning and drag you to an empty field. Although he told you that he had a surprise for you, you didn’t think it warranted being woken up at 5:30 a.m. without a clue of where you were going.

“Alright, close your eyes, okay? It’s a surprise,” Heeseung said, gesturing for you to cover your gaze. You found it adorable that he was fumbling so much, so you closed your eyes with a grin. “Keep them closed—hold on.”

“Heeseung, how much longer?” you whined.

“And,” he drawled, stretching out the syllable, “open!”

When you opened your eyes, towering over you was a 60-foot tall hot air balloon, its brightly-patterned nylon reflecting the bright sunlight. You boggled at its impressive size—absolutely massive. The pilot got down from the basket, walking over so that he could greet you two and provide a rundown of safety measures and procedures.

An hour later, you were in the sky, eyes sweeping over the expanse of Los Angeles. You were never that great with heights, but, somehow, you weren’t too afraid as you peered down. Heeseung stood beside you, keeping one hand on the small of your back as he pointed out different landmarks he recognized.

“I’ve never seen LA like this!” you yelled over the wind, cupping your hand around your mouth so that Heeseung could hear you.

He grinned. “Isn’t it beautiful? Makes the city actually feel peaceful for once.”

You wouldn’t dare admit it but, all the way up in the sky, thousands of feet above ground level, what made you feel like you were soaring was Heeseung’s arm slipping around your waist.

On Wednesday, Heeseung took you fishing. You absolutely hated the idea, but once you had the fishing rod in your hands, you were determined to catch the biggest fish. Heeseung ended up catching more than you, but the two fish you caught were stars in your eyes. By the end of the day, you were laughing hysterically as Heeseung’s hat got stuck in your hook and was flung into the water.

On Thursday, Heeseung took you to play mini-golf. You had gone golfing before with company executives and their kids, but this was different. You didn’t have to show off or try to be the best one there; you just had fun and laughed whenever your best friend missed the ball. You two ended the day by going to an arcade and playing almost every game inside.

By Friday morning, you were exhausted. Your limbs were aching when you woke up the next morning, but Heeseung promised to actually let you rest over the weekend. Tonight was Yizhuo’s country club’s party to celebrate the opening of their new banquet hall, so Heeseung only planned one thing for the morning so that you would have time to get ready for the party later.

Pushing your red Jacquemus sunglasses onto your head, you fixed your best friend with a puzzled stare. He was acting weird all morning, from nearly snapping at you for trying to open the trunk of his car, to staying silent when you asked where he was taking you.

For a moment, you wondered if this was the climax of a horror movie where the killer drove you to a quiet place to get rid of you. Your suspicion raised more when Heeseung parked by a marina with a hiking trail nearby.

This is where your body’s being dumped, you concluded grimly.

But, then again, this was Lee Heeseung. He cried when he was eleven because there was a spider on his backpack; he didn’t have the heart to hurt anyone, especially not you. In fact, you recalled when he nearly passed out in middle school because he thought he caused you extreme pain once. (It turned out to be your period cramps.)

“Are you gonna tell me where you’re taking me?” you asked, exasperated. “If we’re swimming, I’m gonna tell you right now that there’s no way I’m getting my hair wet before the party.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, princess. We’re just going for a spin on the lake.” He nodded his head in the direction of the yachts lined up by the shoreline. “Jog your memory?”

When your gaze landed on the gorgeous white yacht gleaming under the sun, you couldn’t help but gasp at its glorious sight. Heeseung had gotten the yacht for his birthday last year, but he never had the time to actually use it. One reason was because he didn’t trust his friends to not trash it, and the other being that he wanted his first ride on it to be special.

Your face burned. His first ride was going to be with you.

“Shut up.” You were gaping at the sight before turning to your best friend, who looked smug while he parked his car. “Shut up. You’re actually letting me go on your yacht?”

“Yeah, why not?” He tried to brush it off as something casual, but your heart was still doing cartwheels and flips. “It’s about time I went out on it.”

You two walked down to the harbor together, your hands sometimes shyly brushing and pulling away swiftly. There had been moments of thick, unspoken tension throughout the week, but you didn’t have the courage to bring it up.

Once you two reached Heeseung’s yacht, he firmly slapped his hand against the smooth, brilliant white surface. “Carver c52 Command Bridge,” he gloated. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

You snorted. “You talk about boats the same way old white men do.”

You allowed him to help you into the yacht, gripping his hand tight as you stepped onto the deck. You hadn’t questioned it before, but as soon as Heeseung let go of you, he set down the picnic basket so that he could spread out the blanket.

You helped him with the corners of the blanket. “What’s this?”

“Well, I thought we could sail out a little and then have breakfast on the deck,” he replied coolly, as if the sincerity of his words wouldn’t make your heart twist painfully in your chest. You really didn’t deserve such effort from him, and it almost made you feel guilty that you had acted so spoiled before. “I’ll go start the engine. You can just enjoy the view.”

However, you followed him to the cockpit. Heeseung raised a brow at you, but you giggled as you took a seat behind him, watching as he stood at the helm, fiddling with some controls you knew nothing about.

“You actually know how to operate this thing?” you asked.

“My dad taught me,” he explained. “I’m not licensed, though, so I don’t think this is exactly legal.”

“Not like that’s stopped you before.”

Heeseung grinned to himself. He started up the yacht’s engine by pressing a button on the dashboard. You watched his hands fly across the levers and controls before he started turning the wheel to steer out of the marina.

“You wanna head out to the deck?” he called out over his shoulder, but you just took the empty seat next to him. “Don’t you wanna sunbathe? Or you could check out the stateroom.”

“Nope,” you said, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as you watched him. “I’d rather wait for you.”

Sometimes, you’d almost catch Heeseung getting flustered. He’d always laugh and rub his nose, looking away shyly before anyone caught onto his awkwardness. The same reaction was unfolding before you right now, and you couldn’t help but smile like an idiot yourself.

You wondered if he ever felt butterflies in his stomach, too.

Once Heeseung had driven the yacht out far enough—far out enough in the water where the water was still and no one was there to disturb you two. You both headed out to the deck again. He took a seat to lay out what he packed in his picnic basket, and you removed your sundress so that you could tan a little in your bikini.

“Champagne?” he offered, holding up a bottle of Dom Pérignon that he most definitely stole from his family’s wine cellar.

You pulled out the two wine glasses in the basket and held them out for Heeseung to pour your drinks, smiling wide as he tipped the bottle. “Yes, please.”

“See, you wouldn’t be able to experience this if you were in the Bahamas right now.” He pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. “We didn’t get to hang out like this any of the past summers.”

“As if we don’t hang out almost every day.”

“But this is different!” he argued. “It’s summer. It’s not like we’re making impromptu plans to New York and flying back home a day later to study for an exam. We have all the time in the world right now.”

He was right, in a sense. You and Heeseung were always together, but you two never really got to spend long days together like this. You two got to make plans without involving anyone else in the friend group for once, and it was a lot more fun than you had expected.

“Do you think we’d be this close if we weren’t rich?” you asked after a while. Heeseung raised a brow at your question, so you clarified, “I’m serious! We wouldn’t be able to do stuff like this—flying in hot air balloons, driving yachts, going to country club parties—if we didn’t have rich parents.”

Heeseung crossed his arms behind his head and pondered, looking up at the sky with a wistful expression. He hummed before answering, “I’d like to think that we’d make it work the same way everyone else does.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“What if… you were rich and I wasn’t? Or vice-versa?”

“Yeah, I mean��” he trailed off for a moment, eyes cast down as if he was trying to find the words on his tongue. Then, he continued, “I think I’d be happy doing anything with you, even if all we could do together was sit at home and watch TV.”

Whatever response you had prepared at the back of your throat had died on your tongue. All you could do was look at him helplessly, wondering why his words were making your heart beat faster than when you were thousands of feet up in the sky days ago. You wondered why such gentle words from your best friend had roused a violent storm in your heart.

The wind picked up, sending your hair flying every which way. Heeseung reached out to brush a loose strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering on your cheek as he pulled back. You went completely still, chest frozen mid-breath as he pulled away.

“You had something in your hair,” he mumbled, quickly scrambling to offer you a caprese skewer. If you looked closely enough, you would’ve noticed that his ears were bright red. “Eat quickly before the food gets stale.”

“I don’t think food normally goes stale that fast.”

“Shut up.”

There was one thing about formal gatherings that all trust fund babies could agree on: only get drunk behind your parents’ backs.

They definitely knew what was going on, but they paid no attention as long as their children were staying safe and not embarrassing themselves. When you were much younger, you would always catch sight of the older kids sneaking away to get drunk in the bathroom, but you never understood the excitement they felt until you became a freshman in high schooler, being dragged away by Yeji to drink with the older kids.

Back then, you were doe-eyed and curious as Vernon would pour shots for you in moderation. Now, you were nearly gagging when Yizhuo handed you a shooter of Pink Whitney.

You two had locked yourselves in the bathroom with Xiaoting, Kazuha, and Minjeong as Yizhuo pulled out various shooters from her purse. It was fine for you to drink wine with the other adults, but you were all certain that the adults would frown upon you drinking hard liquor in front of the other guests. So, the five of you snuck away to get drunk secretly.

For the past fifteen minutes, as you all were downing shooter after shooter, the girls had been pressing you about something going on between you and Heeseung. After he posted you on his Instagram story, showing off his boat in the process, you were bombarded with texts that you were only able to ignore until you got to the party.

A loud knock at the door nearly scared you out of your wits, causing Minjeong to bark out a laugh at the sight of you flinching.

“Occupied!” you yelled, although the syllables slurred together strangely.

“It’s us!” came Jake’s voice. “We’re going drunk golfing.”

You frowned and stepped aside to let Yizhuo open the door for Jake. He scanned his surroundings nervously before shoving his fists into his pockets and stepping into the girls’ bathroom.

“Jake,” Xiaoting started. Although her face and neck were completely red, she focused her eyes on him to keep a serious tone. “We need you to tell us if Heeseung’s into Y/N or not.”

“Xiaoting!” you complained.

“You know what, I’d like to know, too,” Jake replied with shocking enthusiasm. He leaned against the crystal sink, folding his arms across his chest. “Screw drunk golf; this is way more fun. Y/N, do you have feelings for Heeseung? ‘Cause everyone wants to know if—”

“Jake, we didn’t bring you in here for girl talk,” Minjeong cut him off with a wave of her hand. “We brought you in here for answers.”

He let out a childish whine. “But I wanna be here for girl talk.”

“Wait, but answer his question.” Yizhuo turned to you with a wide grin on her face, handing you yet another shooter—probably to make you more honest. You seriously wished you could call Chenle over to put a leash on your friend. “Do you have feelings for Heeseung?”

Did you? You had never been so confused about where you and Heeseung stood until this week. You two had always been close—always did everything together—so why were you feeling conscious about everything now?

But, despite all of your confusion, the one thing that was clear to you was that you felt something for Lee Heeseung with every beat of your heart.

Everything he did, everything he said—you weren’t sure what it was that had you so intoxicated on his attention, but you knew you would’ve felt sick to your stomach if he did the things he did with you with any other girl.

You felt it whenever you saw him lounging around your house, digging into the brownies your mother made as if he lived there. You felt it whenever someone told a joke and the two of you made eye contact with each other first, hoping to see if the other person found it funny, too. You felt it whenever he touched your hand and called you princess, unaware that your heart was fluttering pathetically in your chest.

His smile, his laugh, his happiness—you wanted to be the cause of it all.

You caved with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, I think I might actually have feelings for him.”

A collective cheer erupted in the bathroom, the sound echoing for a few seconds after. Jake stood up just to high-five Yizhuo so hard that the impact left their palms stinging, and then Yizhuo proceeded to scold Jake for putting his full force into the high-five. You pinched the bridge of your nose with embarrassment flooding your chest.

Jake decided to abandon the boys’ plans to go drunk golfing and spent the next ten minutes discussing strategies to get you and Heeseung alone. He had integrated himself into your circle so well that he almost seemed like one of the girls. You slowly backed up into one of the stalls during their conversation, starting to feel horribly nauseous and lightheaded. You were pretty sure that Yizhuo handing you shooter after shooter was starting to have adverse effects on your body.

“How about we tell him that Y/N’s puking in the bathroom and he needs to—” Minjeong cut herself off as soon as she heard you retching by the toilet. “Oh, wow, she’s actually puking in the bathroom.” She turned to Jake after opening the door for him. “Go get Heeseung.”

“If you let me join girl talk next time,” Jake bargained.

“Are you seriously negotiating with me in this situation?”

“Yes.”

Minjeong groaned. “Okay, fine, Jake, we’ll invite you the next time we have girl talk. Now go fetch Heeseung.”

“On it!” he agreed quickly. “Don’t die, Y/N.”

“I’ll try not to” you croaked out weakly, your head hanging between your knees as you willed yourself to not barf out your guts.

“Are you okay?” Kazuha pouted as she rubbed your back in soothing circles. “This is all because you kept making her drink, Yizhuo.”

“I didn’t make her,” she retorted. “Y/N, do you need water or anything? I can ask someone in the kitchen for liquid IV, too.”

You shook your head. “No, just bring Heeseung here.”

They shared a secretive giggle, but you didn’t care. You felt way too sick to mind the girls teasing you. You even tried to distract yourself on your phone, but the bright screen just made you feel worse. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back against the wall, groaning miserably.

It had really gotten to the point where you didn’t care that you were sitting on the country club’s public bathroom floor. It was all fancy and sanitary, of course, but you would normally feel icky about this sort of scenario playing out.

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but eventually, you heard the door opening and the rest of the girls rushed to make sure it wasn’t someone outside the group. You heard them ushering Heeseung inside, explaining what had happened to you before they left the bathroom.

Heeseung knocked on your stall as a formality but let himself inside, anyway. The crooked grin on his face upon seeing you only made you turn your head away and sigh in exasperation.

You turned your head back to face him when you heard his shutter go off.

A scowl was plastered across your face. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

Heeseung snickered. “Yeah, I’m posting it on my story. Right after the one of you looking all pretty on my boat.”

“You’re supposed to be here to help me.”

“That’s why I brought soda,” he replied, holding up an entire bottle of Sprite. You were confident he snagged it from the kitchen, which you were pretty sure would result in Yizhuo scolding him for treating the country club like his house. “Anyway, why’d you drink so much? Just because I’m driving you home doesn’t mean you’re allowed to give yourself alcohol poisoning.”

You settled back into your previous position with your head between your knees. This way, Heeseung wouldn’t be able to see how stupid in love you were. There was absolutely no way you could tell him that you were mindlessly drinking while you were spilling your feelings for him.

“Where’d the girls go?” you asked instead.

“I told them to go drunk golfing while I took care of you.”

“Don’t you wanna go play, too?”

Heeseung shrugged. He took a seat on the floor next to you, not minding the indecency even though he was sober. You felt like your heart was going to explode if he kept doting on you like this.

“I can always go play another time,” he said. “Plus, I’d have more fun if you were there.”

You both went quiet for a moment. The weight of Heeseung’s words only made your heart feel heavier, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could go pretending that you only cared for him as a friend.

Then, your stomach started churning and twisting with the need to puke out your guts again, and the silence was filled with your retching. Heeseung rubbed your back sympathetically and held your hair back while you hunched over the toilet seat again.

This was definitely going down as one of your most unflattering moments.

“Want some soda?” Heeseung tried.

You shook your head.

“Drink some water, then—here,” he said, handing you a red solo cup that was filled to the brim. “I stole it from Hoon.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your head to accept the cup from him. When you took a sip, though, you just ended up hawking and spitting out the contents into the toilet.

Trying your best not to gag, you got out, “Not water—vodka.”

“Oh, my bad.” Heeseung frowned, inspecting the cup. “Why’d Hoon pour this much? No wonder he drove the golf cart into the lake.”

After throwing up basically everything in your stomach, you started to feel dizzy all over again, stumbling and wobbling all over the bathroom until Heeseung had to hold you upright. He had already gotten Yizhuo’s approval to drive you home for the night, but there was no way you were making it to his Tesla in your heels. Heeseung had you hang tight while he ran to his car to get your Dolce & Gabbana rubber slides, knowing there was no possible way for him to carry you out to the car without the adults getting suspicious.

You felt much more comfortable in your slides, so you walked out hand-in-hand with Heeseung while he held onto your heels. Although you felt bad about leaving Yizhuo’s grand opening party early, you figured that it would be more shameful for her parents to see you in this state.

You had greatly underestimated the power of alcohol.

After you had walked up to about three different cars that weren’t Heeseung’s (including Jay’s Mercedes Benz, which started going off once you pulled on the handle), he had finally grabbed you by the shoulders and manually directed you to his Tesla. You giggled as you got into the passenger’s seat, allowing him to buckle you in and watch over you as he called Jay to turn his car alarm off.

Heeseung shot you a glance as he drove out of the country club’s gated entrance. “You’re going straight to bed when we get home.”

“Don’t wanna.”

He surprisingly gave up fast on trying to convince you. “What do you wanna do, then?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged. “Anything. Wanna bake cookies? Or watch a show?”

“Down for a show. Don’t know if I trust you around kitchen appliances right now,” he answered. After letting out a giggle, you caught Heeseung’s smile illuminated by the moonlight. “See? Aren’t you having more fun than you would’ve had in the Bahamas?”

“I wouldn’t ask this question after I nearly got alcohol poisoning.”

“The important thing is that you didn’t.”

You snorted, but something fond unraveled in your chest. You rolled the window down and looked outside, watching the bright lights of the city twinkle and shine under the inky black sky. You remembered all the skies you watched with Heeseung this week—the hazy gray in the morning, the bright blues of the afternoon, and the faint peony glow at sunset. And, yeah, you would’ve given up the Bahamas any day for this.

“Yeah,” you answered him, though you weren’t quite sure if he could hear you over the wind, “I’m having a lot of fun, Hee.”

Two weeks flew by far too quickly.

You were dumbfounded when you realized your parents were coming back the next day. You had spent two entire weeks solely with Heeseung, and you were having so much fun that you totally lost track of time. You were so caught up in your adventures that it had completely slipped your mind that summer would eventually come to an end.

Heeseung suggested that you two spent your last night doing something special. You had no idea what that meant, but you went along with whatever he had planned.

Apparently, he had been wanting to take you to see the stars, but you didn’t realize that he meant the observatory until you were in his car, parking on the steep slope of a hillside.

“It’s so far,” you complained.

He tutted. “It’s a five minute walk, princess, and it’s worth it. Trust me.”

You hesitated before grouching again, “It’s cold.”

Without another word, Heeseung took off his sweater. You tried to peel your eyes away from his white shirt that kept hiking up as he did. He passed it to you, and you couldn’t do anything but accept it because he was already getting out of the car. You wanted to hand it back to him because you knew he would be cold (made evident by the goosebumps that pricked his arms), but he profusely refused. He seemed perfectly content at the mere sight of you joining him.

He waited as you slipped on his sweater, the biggest grin stretching across his face. You were a little blindsided by how blinding Heeseung’s smile was, especially under the glow of the moon. Your cheeks heated up a little when you smelled faint traces of his Blackberry & Bay cologne in the fabric.

“You’re microscopic in my clothes,” he teased. You started walking a little faster to catch up with your friend, but his comment made you punch his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up.” You waved off the comment, but part of you liked how the sleeves of his sweater fell past your wrists. “We used to be the same height in, like, middle school.”

Heeseung barked out a laugh. “That was so long ago! Look at our height difference now.” Before you could anticipate his actions, he stepped in front of you and compared both of your heights.

You looked up at your best friend, raising a brow at his comment. Of course you were aware. Maybe at one point you denied it, but that was when you both were in elementary school and Heeseung would tug on your hair because he sat behind you.

Being this close to him made you a little nervous. After realizing that you had feelings for him, it was becoming difficult to keep them at bay. It was very clear that Heeseung had become much more masculine over the years with his buffer chest, muscular arms, and deeper voice.

And he looked extremely attractive.

“Yeah, I know you’re tall,” you replied flatly. It was normal for Heeseung to tease you, but whenever he did so in public, you always felt your heart squeeze in your chest. Then, he’d brush it off, and the feeling would fade out like bubbles floating to the ground. “You know, giving me your sweater and messing around like this probably gives people the wrong idea, right?”

“Oh… does it?” Heeseung mumbled, voice an octave higher than usual, and he turned his face away before you could detect the dust of pink across his cheeks. “By the way, have you been to a planetarium before?”

“Nope.”

You had always heard of the large domes that showcased the night sky. People sat underneath as a narrator droned on about stories from the past and the history of the universe. However, you hadn’t ever actually been to one, although you almost would’ve if you hadn’t gotten grounded before a class trip, resulting in all of your friends going to a planetarium show without you. You remembered Yizhuo was texting you throughout the entire trip, complaining about virtually everything that was going on and telling you how much she missed you.

“You’re kidding,” Heeseung’s eyes went round. “No way! You’ve never been to a planetarium?”

“Well—”

“Oh my god,” he continued, absolutely astounded. “Have you even lived?”

“I’ve just never had the chance!” you argued. “It’s not like anyone’s ever asked me to go to one. Plus, if there’s anyone I’d go with, I’d rather just go with you.”

Silence.

You and Heeseung had been settling into a lot of awkward pauses lately. It always followed some odd comment or action between you two, like when he got extremely close to you on the yacht. You still had no idea what exactly his intentions were during that whole ordeal, but your heart had never raced so fast.

Eventually, your silence was broken by an employee ushering you and Heeseung to walk past the velvet ropes and into the observatory building. You both were still silent upon walking in, but when you saw the signs pointing to the planetarium, you nudged your best friend’s side.

“It says the next showing starts in five minutes,” you pointed out.

“Fuck.” He slapped the pockets of his jeans, feeling for something solid in them. “I have my tickets—somewhere. Give me a second.”

Thankfully, he managed to figure out that he saved his tickets to his Apple Wallet. The sign stating that the shows were sold out nearly made your heart drop, but, of course, Heeseung had planned this out well in advance.

As always.

“Where should we sit?” you asked when you walked into the room, looking up at the dome-shaped ceiling in awe.

“Anywhere.” Heeseung grinned at you. “All we have to do is lay back and stare at the sky, so wherever you wanna sit.”

You both settled with two seats in the middle. It was smack dab in the center of the dome, right where the screen curved. Heeseung made a comment about how this was the ideal spot because it felt like you were getting sucked in by the stars.

When the show started, you gazed up at the screen in complete awe. Swirling nebulas and galaxies were painted across the night sky, blinking down at you. The narrator’s soothing voice made you feel absolutely immersed, and you had to grab the arm rest whenever the animation started speeding through the universe.

Heeseung booed when they showed Earth, throwing up a thumbs-down and then quickly shoving his hand back into his pocket, as if the planet would take offense.

And you realized you were in love with him.

You didn’t know why it hit you right then and there—a person droning on about space overhead, glancing over at your best friend to see him gawking at the solar system—but you were certain you would never feel this way with anyone else again. The feeling stampeded through your body, making your blood rush and your bones feel light. You were engulfed in a fire that burned only for Heeseung.

It felt so simple, yet all the more complicated. You were in love with your childhood best friend—the person who had been with you through everything.

It wasn’t like fireworks. Not a splash of ice cold water or like you had been kicked in the chest. It was more like slowly sinking in quicksand, not even realizing how deep you were until you were completely submerged.

You had been in love with Golden Boy for a long time now.

Later, after the show was over, he took you outside to overlook the city. Apparently, it was quite the sight to behold from this high up. You were still gushing on and on about the planetarium show, but as soon as you took a glance over the railing, you forgot all about the wonders of space.

Now, looking over all the bright lights really made it feel like the City of Angels. You were completely captivated by the sight. It was different from how it looked from the hot air balloon; everything was so miniscule from that height, but you could see how far the city stretched from here. The lights blinked past the horizon, and you were certain this was your first time seeing stars down below instead up in the sky.

Heeseung folded his arms onto the railing and tucked his head in them. “You can’t get this view anywhere else.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said, hardly audible.

“Yeah,” he replied. You wondered if he was talking about the stars above or the city below, so you turned your head to catch where he was looking. There was an alarming spike in your heartbeat when you realized he was looking at you, but Heeseung didn’t look away this time. “It really is.”

You never fully appreciated how gorgeous Los Angeles—never really looked past all the traffic and smog and crowd. The bustling city was tiring to keep up with at times. You saw it more as the city of burnouts than the city of stars.

But here, where the stars weren’t in the sky but down below, you realized that the brightest star of them all was the one right next to you.

It was Heeseung.

“You don’t still wish you were in the Bahamas, do you?” he asked suddenly, which spurred you to start laughing.

You stared up at him with incredulity in your eyes. “Hee, I never once wished I was in the Bahamas when I was with you.” You nodded to yourself. “I’d say you made this a successful summer.”

Your heart flipped in your chest when you saw those gleaming eyes and bright smile of his. It almost lit up the sky brighter than the city of Los Angeles itself. The way he was looking at you made you forget everything you were saying.

“Actually,” he started shyly, “there's something else that could make this summer perfect.”

“What’s that?”

“Will you go out with me?”

The question knocked you off orbit, electrifying every nerve in your body like it was cut wire. You weren’t sure what expression you wore on your face, but the shy look on Heeseung’s face was plunging you deeper in that inescapable quicksand. Of course, your friends had suspected this all along, but hearing it yourself was entirely different. You felt like you were glowing brighter than Polaris.

“I’ve liked you since we were kids,” he started to explain after gauging that you still needed time to process his words. “It’s not like I just felt this way overnight. I was just trying to make the right choices so that I could stay by your side for as long as I could. I mean, I’ll always be your best friend, Y/N, but I also wanna be something more than that to you.”

“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” he continued. “I knew that this could possibly ruin our friendship, but I also knew that if I didn’t tell you how I felt, then I would’ve been lying to you through college, too.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “It’s only ever been you.”

Change was hard. You’d been at war with your mind for a while now over starting something new with Heeseung. Although it was unfamiliar and new, and although you were scared of things potentially not working out, you still wanted to try for him.

“You don’t have to worry about ruining our friendship.” The words were on your tongue like a pearl. Your soul leaked out of your body, straight into the Earth, then seeped back into you with newfound bravery. You blinked back tears that dared to spill and sounded so stupidly breathless when you confessed, “I’m in love with you, too, Hee.”

His eyes were as wide as saucers, unblinking. “You are?”

His voice was soft, imploring, almost desperate, so you stepped closer and cupped his cold cheeks with your warm hands. Heeseung’s gaze seemed faraway, but he placed his hands over yours, as if he was trying to make sure you were real.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else out there who would rent an entire hot air balloon just to make sure I wouldn’t miss the Bahamas.” You laughed, a moonstruck grin on your face. “And, for the record, I’d choose you over a stupid vacation any day.”

You had been waiting to see his face break into that dazzling smile of his where his eyes crinkled at the corners. Instead, Heeseung just gazed at you longingly before he placed a hand on your cheek and bent down to kiss you.

His mouth moved with yours carefully, almost like he was too scared to go any further. You moved your hands to loop around his neck, drawing him closer so that you could slowly deepen the kiss. You were grateful that Heeseung waited to match your pace, and soon he was dropping his hands to grab at your waist and pull you closer to him, too. It sent butterflies straight to the pit of your stomach whenever he smiled between kisses, mumbling something about how pretty you were or how he had been waiting to do this forever.

Sometimes, you realized, feelings didn’t need to be expressed through words. You didn’t need the confirmation because with Heeseung’s lips pressed to yours, you felt like you were glowing brighter than the stars above.

You supposed you could say your parents were a little shocked to come back home and discover a major change in your relationship status.

You had to give them the rundown of what happened, of course. It wasn’t very hard to do, considering you had reiterated the same story to Yizhuo about a hundred times until she was satisfied. Thankfully, your other friends just needed to hear it once to fully grasp that Heeseung was now your boyfriend. For Yeji, you had to bring out a whiteboard just to draw everything out to her over FaceTime.

As you broke down what happened while your parents were in Rome, you noticed the silver necklace on your mother’s neck that glimmered whenever the light caught it. You smiled to yourself when you realized it was probably your stepfather’s honeymoon present, and you were grateful that your mother was able to experience such a wonderful love herself.

“See?” There was an excited gleam in your mother’s eyes as she bit into one of the chocolate chip cookies you and Heeseung made for them last night. She pointed the cookie in your stepfather’s direction. “I told you they’d get together!”

“I thought so, too!” he agreed. “That’s why I had that little talk with Heeseung when you two dropped us off at the airport.”

“That’s what you guys were talking about?!” you exclaimed, jumping up to your feet and then sinking back down in your seat with your hands covering your face. “I knew it was gonna be something embarrassing.”

“Oh, honey, don’t say that. Have a cookie.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Heeseung, who had been silent the whole conversation, spoke up. He reached over and took the cookie from your mother, but you smacked his hand lightly while he was bringing it to his mouth. “Hey! You almost made me drop my cookie!”

You huffed. “She was talking to me, idiot.”

You were honestly over-the-moon that dating Heeseung was this easy. You worried about having a boyfriend and having to go through the hassle of introducing him to your parents and waiting for them to warm up to him. With Heeseung, though, he was already like family in your household, so nothing felt too different.

Except that your parents could outwardly tease you both now.

Since you were in his parents’ good graces, too, everything seemed to click for you two. Both of your parents were planning to go out for dinner sometime this week to celebrate your new relationship, which you felt was a little over-the-top. You suspected that Mrs. Lee was hoping you would be her future daughter-in-law.

They were even planning on renting a Airbnb together for yours and Heeseung’s move-in at Yale. It was almost terrifying how everyone in your life seemed to be fully on-board for this relationship.

Not that you were complaining, though.

“Are you guys going somewhere now?” your mother asked, eyeing Heeseung’s white button-up that you were wearing over your swimsuit. “Make sure you wear sunscreen. It’s supposed to be the hottest day of the year.”

You checked your bag to make sure your sunscreen was, in fact, there. Heeseung took his baseball cap off to put it on your head, which made you crack a smile.

“Yeah, we’re going to the beach,” you said. “Yizhuo and Chenle wanted to spend the day at Santa Monica, and then we were gonna head over to Jungwon’s house.”

“Well, have fun.” Your mother moved to the kitchen to grab Tupperware to package the cookies. Your stepfather followed her in to help her out. “I’m sorry we couldn’t go to the Bahamas this year, but the beach has to be the next best thing, right?”

You shared a grin with Heeseung, and his eyes crinkled beautifully at the corners. “Yeah, it’s exactly like the Bahamas if I close my eyes.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you for reading all the way to the end if you made it this far !! :’) i have always wanted to write pure fluff without any room for misunderstandings or angst LOL and heeseung is just the perfect embodiment of bff2l ♡ i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this !!

TAG LIST ▸ @mmsriza @changmin-wrlds @13isacoolnumber @from-xero @acciomylove @nyujjan @goldenhypen @bbanggami @lvsunq @cb97curls @ily-cuz-i @jakeyuni @soobisms @rikibae @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @outrologist @kyukittie @nabinthegardnn @viagumi @kpoplover718 @duolingofanaccount @jjongsha @teawithbucky @baekhyunstruly @mykalon @heelariously @hobistigma @ja4hyvn @candidupped @shmooooo @pr0dbeomgyu @heeyunkist @sunshine-skz @hiqhkey @baekhyuns-lipchain @fakeuwus @wvnkoi

#enhypen imagines #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #enhypen oneshots #heeseung oneshots #lee heeseung #enhypen

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teeskz · 9 months

Text

Deja Vu: “I want you so bad.”

» pairing: asshole! wooyoung x fem! reader

» summary: Getting paired with Wooyoung, notorious half-asser and asshole, on your midterm assignment must’ve been karma for something you’ve done in the past, cause god did you luck out bad. He’s constantly late to your meetings, hardly does any work, and on top of that, he teases you like no other. You can’t stand him. Until one day, a storm comes, brewing unfamiliar feelings amongst you two, and what you thought you knew had honestly just turned out to be deja vu.

» word count: ~ 9k (i actually have no idea, i just know it’s long)

» genre & warnings: non-idol au, asshole (most of the time) wooyoung, sub (sometimes) reader, dry humping, grinding, praises, unprotected sex (BAD, DON’T DO IT), rough sex, cream pie, ass & tit slapping, major teasing (both sexually and socially), orgasm denial x3, edging, fingering, dirty talk, overstimulation, reader has a younger face but is of age, mentions of bff!seonghwa, reader is unintentionally cute, minor peer pressure (helps reader get out of her shell/pushy roommate), heavy make out session, whiny wooyoung, sensitive reader

» a/n: when i tell you i am in love with this kind of wooyoung

─ ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*.･｡ﾟ

Everyone warned you about him.

He’s a handful for sure.

You got him as your partner? Good fucking luck with that.

Be ready to do your half of the load, plus his.

You knew this would happen.

So how come you’re still surprised when at 6:45, Wooyoung strolls into the library, a drink in one hand and his laptop in the other, looking as if he’s ready to work. He should’ve been here 45 minutes ago.

You peer up from your own screen and can’t help but scowl at the boy. Wooyoung also notices you, and instead of feigning remorse a cheesy grin spreads across.

“Look at you being all studious.” He reaches the table you occupied and plops down next to you, parts of his drink splashing onto your bare arm, “How much have you gotten done?”

Adjusting your laptop screen, you hardly spare him a glance as you go back to typing, “Honestly, not that much. It’s hard coming up with research on my own.”

You hope the bitterness came through in your tone and judging by the way Wooyoung guffaws, you could tell it did. He just didn’t care.

“Y/N-ah, why’re you being so cold to me?” His voice is playful, lighthearted even, speaking as if the two of you were friends. Which you’re most certainly not.

Instead of replying, you let your fingers do the talking as they slap the keyboard with clicks, a reminder that you guys need to work and not converse. Does he think you actually want to spend your Friday working on some stupid project? One that’s worth a large chunk of your grade at that.

“I brought you something to drink.” He shoves the cup in your face and you can see the liquid start to turn more opaque as the ice melts. It’s also like 70% gone. Having enough, you harshly face him, the sudden movement causing him to buck backwards.

“Wooyoung, you need to get to work and stop playing around. We don’t have time for this, especially when you decided to show up almost an hour late.” You try to sound authoritative, but that in itself is a bit of a problem for you. Your voice has always been softer than most, so when you do try to take charge, you often get ‘awwws’ of how cute you sound. And you hated that.

It also doesn’t help that you have a rounder and softer looking face for someone your age. If you could count on your fingers the amount of times someone’s asked if you’re touring your college instead of attending it - with them thinking you’re a high schooler, well, you’d probably put around 3 fingers down. But the analogy still stands.

Wooyoung’s no different, him holding back a smile from the way your eyebrows would furrow and how your nose would scrunch whenever you exhibit anger. He found it endearing, actually.

“Okay...you’re clearly mad at me-”

“How can I not be?” You exclaim, “It’s been a week of us working on this project together, and somehow you manage to show up late every time, but it’s never been past 30 minutes. You’re even the one who told me to be here at 6!”

“I have a good reason for being late though.”

With that, you push your computer forwards and lean back in your chair arms crossed, entertaining whatever nonsense was about to spew out of his mouth, “Oh please, I’d love to hear this.”

He mocks your stance, “I was getting chased by a girl.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You give him a deadpanned expression which causes him to whine.

“No seriously! I was.” In a flash, he pulls out his phone and puts it out for you to see a string of messages.

5:48 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- HYUNG!!!

- i need your help asap

5:49 PM

SEONGHWA:

- huh?

- what’d you do?

5:51 PM:

WOOYOUNG:

- the girl from last weekend’s pissed at me and is looking for me all over campus

- can i pls hide in your dorm?

5:51 PM:

SEONGHWA:

- tf did you do to piss her off?

5:52 PM:

WOOYOUNG:

- i’ll explain later just please let me hideout at your place

- i heard she has a knife

5:52 PM:

SEONGHWA:

- okay fine

5:53 PM:

WOOYOUNG:

- thank you!!

- i’m already outside your door

Admittedly, you were left dumbfounded. So maybe he did have a reason today, but that doesn’t excuse all of the other times. Wooyoung slips his phone back into his hoodie pocket while you go to ask the obvious question.

“What did you do to make this girl mad?”

He blows out a hard breath, as if even thinking about her is such a hassle, “We hooked up last week and I told her I didn’t wanna see her again. So, this is how she reacted.”

You purse your lips out, “Well, maybe she was hoping to gain something out of it. You know, there are nicer ways to phrase ‘I’m not ready for a relationship’ that don’t involve the girl getting hurt.”

“Why should I care about her feelings?” His words are icy, though it seems to be directed towards you, “I told her upfront I didn’t want anything more, it was only supposed to be sex. I asked her if she could handle that and she said yes. If she went ahead and caught something for me, that’s not my fucking problem.”

Once he was done, Wooyoung reels himself in. The realization that you weren’t, in fact, the psycho chick that had been chasing after him earlier dawns on him as you silently nod in agreement. If he had been clear on his intentions since the start, then there wasn’t really much you could say against him.

“I didn’t know that, sorry for jumping to conclusions.” You sound more sad then you meant to and reach out for your computer.

After a beat his sour look turns sweet again, another playful smile returning, “Oh Y/N-ah, don’t apologize for that. I’m sorry for getting worked up.”

“Your frustrations understandable, especially if you’d been real with her from the beginning. Frankly, she should’ve expected that.” Shrugging your shoulders, you go to work again, now noticing the time hit 7:18 PM. You had about 12 minutes to get Wooyoung to do something, but that probably won’t happen.

He cheers your name loudly, happy that you and him agree on a topic for once and the librarian on standby hisses at him to quiet down while throwing a nasty glare.

The two of you exchange glances before both quietly laughing, you going back to finishing one of your paragraphs for your thesis while he simply sat and watched.

«—————————»

The next time you were supposed to meet with Wooyoung, you receive a text from him hours before your designated time.

12:07 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- pls no library today

12:09 PM

YOU:

- what was wrong with it last time?

12:10 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- the old hag yelled at me

- i’m not dealing with that again

12:11 PM

YOU:

- well tbh you aren’t the quietest person to have around

12:11 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- sorry we all cant be mouses like you

12:13 PM

YOU:

- ignoring that

- how about the cafe nearby?

12:14 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- ugh the coffees gross

- and psycho chick works there

- hell. no.

12:15 PM

YOU:

- oh then def not there, where do you wanna meet then?

12:17 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- just come over to my apartment

- i would suggest your place but i don’t feel like going out

12:18 PM

YOU:

- what if i don’t feel like going out

12:18 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- who wears the pants in this friendship?

12:20 PM

YOU:

- there is no friendship

12:21 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- still don’t wanna admit we’re friends…..

- it’s bad enough you pretend to not know who i am around others

- makes me sad

12:24 PM

YOU:

- does it actually?

12:26 PM

WOOYOUNG:

- no 😛

- come over at 7

12:27 PM

YOU:

- alright fine

Even though you agreed to 7, you actually intended on getting there around 7:10. Hopefully the taste of his own karma would help him learn to respect others times and not waste a second of it.

Throughout the day, while doing your mundane tasks, the text messages between you and Wooyoung keep circling your thoughts. Mainly towards the end.

You and him haven’t established a clear relationship, so that’s why you denied his friendship claim. In all honesty, he just didn’t seem like one to you. But after what happened at the library, a part of you can possibly start to think differently.

Yet your mind races at the possibility you had actually hurt his feelings. It’s not a secret that you two are partners, so whenever you do deny his existence, many people laugh off your comment as a joke. Which for the most part it is. Had you been going too far with that?

Then again, this is Wooyoung you’re talking about. He hardly takes anything serious. Not even a project that’s worth more than half of his final grade. You’re probably just overthinking it, no need to stress out over this.

Telling yourself that, you continue to busy yourself with random tasks till around 6:30, which also happens to be the time your roommate arrives back from wherever she had left early this morning.

“Hey, where are you about to go?”

She asks as she notices you picking out a sweatshirt to wear, already having on light flared jeans. She comes up behind you and lands a loud smack on your ass and you fake cry. This is not a first time offense.

“Wooyoung wants to meet at his place for our project.” You look between two sweatshirts in your hands, a light grey and black.

Your roommate throws herself onto your bed since hers is barely visible due to the abundance of clothes occupying it. But then she pauses for a moment, rethinking over what you just said, “Wait, you’re going to his apartment?”

You nod absentmindedly, still deciding on which clothing option to wear.

“Is he trying to fuck you?”

Now that snaps you out and you dart your eyes to her, “What?! Absolutely not.”

She sits up now, legs crisscrossed as she becomes engross in the conversation, “Y/N, he 100% is! You’ve guys been studying at the same two places for the past week, now suddenly he wants to change locations? To a more secluded place? Sounds sketchy as hell.”

You’re quick to discard that, “It’s because he doesn’t wanna go out today. Plus, Wooyoung has his reasonings for not liking our usual spots.”

Her eyes do a dramatic roll, “Right, just as I’m sure he had his reasonings for being an hour late last Friday.”

You had been texting your roommate up until Wooyoung’s arrival, frustration running into the ground. But you also told her he had a legit excuse later on. So, she’s clearly not the biggest fan of him.

“Don’t say such things. And besides the seclusion will probably help us work better.” You finally choose to go with the black sweatshirt and put back the grey.

“Or it’ll help when your screaming his name and no one will be around to hear it.”

“Hey!”

She throws her hands up innocently, though nothing’s innocent about what’s coming out of her mouth, “I’m just saying! The possibility isn’t a no.”

“To me it is! Plus, he doesn’t even see me like that. Just as a friend…..sorta. Well, that’s not really the case for me. But it’s- you know what, never mind.” You finish putting on the sweatshirt and do your go-to style for your hair, something quick.

“Okay, well can you at least prepare better just in case you guys are gonna bone?”

You just shake your head in disbelief that this conversation is even happening, while she gets up and begins rummaging through the pile on her bed. When her hands come out again, they’re gripping a lacy tank top and matching underwear.

If you thought this couldn’t get any worse, it just has significantly.

“You’re not serious….” You shake your head once more, disbelief clouding your mind again.

“Y/N go put this on right now!” Before you had a chance to protest, she’s pushing you into your closet, throwing the clothes at you before locking the door and turning the lights on from outside.

“You’re crazy! I thought you don’t even like Wooyoung, why’re you so on board with this non-existent idea?!” You yell.

“Cause, even if he is an asshole, he’s still hot! And the perfect gateway into the hookup culture you’ve always wanted to be apart of since freshman year!”

You mentally curse yourself for wanting to have a ‘hoe phase’ and for sharing that with your roommate. That was forever ago anyways, surely she would’ve realized you grew up since then. Once you realize your roommate is dead set on not letting you out, you sigh annoyingly. She is insane.

But as you begin to caress the fabric, your mind begins to race. You had absolutely no intention of getting with Wooyoung, not now or ever. You don’t even consider him a friend! Yeah, he’s extremely attractive, and maybe even your type.

However, that doesn’t make up for how much he irks your soul, and you could swear up and down that you dislike him.

Maybe that’s why it would be perfect, the voice inside of you starts, no extra feelings attached, and no one has to get hurt like psycho crazy girl.

You bit your lip at the thought. Would he even hook up with someone like you? You don’t think you’re exactly his type.

………oh who’re you kidding, he’d probably mess with anything that has a hole.

“Don’t overthink it, if you feel the moment happening, jump on it. If not, then let it ago.” Your roommate adds more encouragement.

Suddenly switching your brain off, you strip off you clothes, removing the current underwear for the newer kind. You toss back on your other clothes before begging your roommate to let you out.

She opens the door but stops you in your tracks, “Now hold on, before you go let me see that you have it-”

You lift up your shift to reveal the tight material straining against your skin. You felt your breasts were gonna pop out at any second.

Your roommate gapes at you then goes to quickly put your shirt down, “Oh wow, I almost just said something I might’ve…...anyways you look fucking amazing.”

“Aww, thank you.” A tiny smile spreads across your face and your roommate resists the urge to pinch your cheeks.

“Okay, what time are you’re suppose to meet him?”

You glance over at your clock which reads 7:01 PM, “Hmmm, about right now.”

She tells you to hurry out of here but before you get the chance to, she walks over to the window and takes a peak, “Hey, have you checked the weather?”

“No, why?” It had been sunny all today there was really no point.

Your roommate holds back saying something, her gaze going over to your closet, “I think you should wear the grey sweatshirt.”

«———————————»

You were going to kill you roommate. The funeral’s been planned out, you already knew the casket color - burnt siena - and all you needed was the body. She is so dead.

You knock ferociously at Wooyoung’s door, at such a rate that someone could mistake you for one of his many, many girls. The door swings open, a freshly showered Wooyoung standing on the other side.

“Y/N-ah, why’re you so angry all the ti-” His eyes go wide at the sight of you. Your once neat hair all messy and soaked from the rain. The sweatshirt your roommate suggested had turned a much darker grey while your light pants were splattered in raindrops.

The worst part about it all, the rain started just as you were approaching his street, and it came down in waterfalls. You were already too far to turn around and grab an umbrella.

“I don’t. Wanna. Talk about it.” You roughly push past him and into his apartment, which you would normally stop to admire the niceness of it if you weren’t so upset. His living room and kitchen’s clean and modern, a TV playing some movie in the background.

“I feel like I could make a joke, but this is just too easy,” You toss a harsh glare over your shoulder at him as he closes and bolts his door, him shuddering at your expression, “Is this why you were late? I was counting every second.”

You highly doubt that’s true, “No, my roommate and I got to talking about…something.”

He tsks, running the white towel over his damp hair, “You know for every minute you were late, I say you deserve a spanking.”

If not for you roommate, that statement wouldn’t have illicit more than a scowl from you, maybe even an eye roll. But your mind trails off to you bent over his lap while he counts the number of times his palm hits your flesh.

And you feel your face immediately burn so you turn away, “If that’s the case, you’d probably wouldn’t be able to walk for like a week.”

With your back facing him, Wooyoung’s eyes linger down to your ass, and how full it looks in those pants. Dammit, he told himself he wouldn’t think of you in that way. And that spanking comment completely slipped out, but now he’s wishing he hadn’t said anything. His thoughts are truly something else.

“Where should we work?” You ask, desperately needing a change in subject.

He seems to be cleared from his own thoughts and he leads you to his living room where his laptop’s already set up with your guys’s work document. Hey, talk about efficient.

Wooyoung drops to the couch and you sling off your backpack, going to follow his lead when a foot comes in contact with your ass.

“Sorry, but I can’t have you sitting on the couch.” He slowly lowers his leg and you scoff lightly, your face doing the thing it does when you get angry. It kills him inside each time.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I don’t have a spare change of clothes.”

Just as quickly as he sat down, Wooyoung’s back up again and tells you to follow him to his bedroom. Outside, you can hear the wind start to pick up, mixing with the treacherous rain.

“You can borrow a shirt from me, but I’m kinda low on bottoms.” He says as he yanks open a clearly broken drawer and begins looking for a suitable replacement.

He pulls out a ratty, white tee and tosses it on your face, you hearing him laugh at you as he makes his way out the door. You rip the shirt off with a huff, “Thank you for this.”

His eyes do a quick motion back to you before smiling his usual, playful grin, “That’s what friends are for.”

And he goes to exit again, leaving you alone to change. Trying your best to ignore the way your stomach buzzes at the remembrance of his smile, you pull off you own wet shirt and replace Wooyoung’s dry one, his scent engulfing you the minute it’s on you. You thought you could get drunk of this.

And as for pants, well, your jeans didn’t get as much damage as your top, so it should be fine. You work your way back to the living room, Wooyoung actually working diligently for the first time in ages.

“Whatcha doing?” You take the only open seat next to him on the cushion, but whatever change of heart you had towards him dissipates in a matter of seconds as he flips his screen to show you some clothing store he’d been browsing.

“Do you think this would look nice on me?”

You stare at him blankly before giving him a half-hearted answer. That seems to do the trick as he twists his computer and goes back to typing, most likely still not working. You open your own laptop and begin immediate research, the sounds of clicks filling the air as if you’re both competing for which one is the most significant.

An hour goes by, then two, then three, till next thing you know it’s 11 o’clock at night and the only thing left of your paper is the conclusion, which you tasked Wooyoung with since no one knows all that he’s really done.

“Holy shit! I can’t believe we’re almost finish with this.” He sighs happily into the couch while you shoot him a face. He instantly backtracks and rephrases his sentence into something more accurate, where he’d actually given you more credit.

“This feels like the longest paper I’ve ever written,” You huff as you layback alongside Wooyoung.

“Yeah, well,” He regards you and you meet his gaze, a tiny smile breaking out, “I know you did a great job. You’re an awesome researcher.”

The words could make you melt on sight, “Wooyoung, you’re too sweet.”

At the sight of your genuine smile, he felt as if his heart was going to leap out his chest. Damn you and you’re cuteness.

“Here I thought you couldn’t wait to rid me of your time.” You say as you snicker at your own joke. Definitely was the other way around.

“Well, don’t count on that. Trust me when I say, you’ll never get rid of me.” A devilish grin overtakes him and you roll your eyes, playfully this time. Maybe there is a part of you that’s starting to warm up to him.

“It’s probably time for me to go, it’s past 11.” When you go to stand, you hear Wooyoung whine behind you, begging you to stay longer. It’s just him being bored, don’t overthink it.

Right as you go to pick up your bag, a flash of lightning followed by loud thunder stop you in your step. With the time you spent with Wooyoung, you’d completely forgotten that a literal thunderstorm had been conjuring outside.

“Where’d you park?” He asks as he goes to stand next to you, trying to see out of the window of the blinds but even that had been barricaded by water.

“Oh, uhh, I actually didn’t drive. I walked here from my dorm.” You begin to think about how you’d get home. The bus normally comes around 12, so you could just wait under the bus stop to get out of his hair-

“You better not be considering leaving,” He chastises and when you make a guilty face he’s shocked, “Are you kidding me? I’m not letting you go out there.”

“I don’t wanna be in your way anymore, I’m sure you’re tired of me enough.” You rebut with wide eyes that make it hard for him to look away.

“Don’t make up lies, Y/N-ah, that’s what bad people do.”

Why does he do this to you? Treat you like you don’t know that there’s wrong in the world, like your sheltered. You stick your hip out and cross your arms, “Who’s to say I’m not bad.”

That sentence alone was enough to get him to laugh as if he’d been holding one in for a while, “Yeah, okay. I’ll go get my room ready for you.”

You trail him like a puppy as he goes down the hall and into his bedroom, “Hey, I didn’t agree.”

“And I don’t remember caring if you did.” He picks up the little trinkets off the floor before switching his pillows out with new ones.

You trot behind him, “Then if that’s the case, you take your bed. I can’t kick you of here.”

“You’re not kicking me out, I already gave the room to you.” He moves onto collecting a blanket from his closet then proceeds out into the living room again with, surprise surprise, you close by.

“Wooyoung this isn’t fair, I feel bad.”

He drops the cover then whips around to face you, his eyes burning deep into yours, “Where do you want me to sleep if you’re taking the bed then, huh?”

“Don’t overthink it, if you feel the moment happening, jump on it.”

Your roommate said this to you and boy if this doesn’t feel like a moment. Your eyes drop down slightly, then off to the side before landing back on Wooyoung, “You could….oh I don’t know, just stay in the room with me.”

He halts in place, trying to register if he just heard you correctly, “Stay with you……?”

You rapidly shake your head yes because you aren’t too confident your mouth could say much more. He pushes his tongue against his mouth, obviously lost in thought, and you briefly look at the movement. You must’ve turned into a huge pervert in the span of 4 hours because just the sight of that is enough to make your heart race.

“I normally don’t sleep with classmates, but I think I can make an acceptation for you.”

You flick him in the chest at his comment, him immediately laughing. And while part of you felt that was the proper response on your behalf, another hated how you knew he was joking. Like he could never even imagine you in that kind of way.

“Alright, let’s go back to the room then.”

This time you lead the way, with Wooyoung immediately stripping once he steps foot into the room. At the removal of his shirt, you spot a gold chain dangling from his neck, which you felt was a good fit for him. He goes all the way down to his boxers, a classic plaid mix with colors, and your eyes widen at how casual he’d just done it. Though, you don’t completely mind.

“Oh yeah, I get hot easily so sometimes I like to prepare. .” Without another second to waste, he hops into his side of the bed, “Don’t let me stop you though, okay Y/N-ah?”

You don’t even respond as hastily you turn around and fiddle with the button of your jeans. It’s now or never. You pull your pants down, around your ass and past your thighs till they pool around your ankle. You step out of them then bend down to retrieve, folding and placing them on a nearby chair.

“Did you wear that underwear just for me?” He’s teasing you, just like always, though this time you don’t have a comeback. You really had worn these just for him.

He picks up on your no-reply and could tell there’s a sense of something in the air that wasn’t there before.

When you turn back around, Wooyoung’s eyes are glued to you, more specifically towards your legs. You don’t get into bed immediately, instead watching him to see his reaction. Is this where everything goes downhill?

He rakes his eyes upwards till they land on your gaze and it appears he’s confirmed something in them, not playing around or joking. That you’re dead serious. Your heart rate accelerates and his lingering stare is starting to make you curdle.

After a beat his body weakens, “Come here.” His finally says. His voice is strained quietly, speaking as if you’d break if he were any louder. And so you do, leisurely, stalling.

You reach the side of the bed and he motions you to continue. You dip a knee into the mattress before placing your other, then again slowly make your way over to him.

Stopping right in front of his face, his arms reactively go up to grab at you but he stops himself midway. You can tell he’s asking for full permission, and attempting to calm your breathing you give a nod of approval.

His hands grip the back of your thigh, sinking into the skin, before making you straddle him. You sit perched up and toying with your fingers, then decidedly to rest them across his bare shoulders.

“You know I was just messing with you?” He starts, forcing you to give him your attention.

“You always do.” You’re tone sounds neutral thank goodness, but your goddamn pouty lips make you look like your frowning. Or to Wooyoung, kissable as fuck.

Chuckling gently, he bites his lip to stop him from smiling too much, “Yeah, that’s true. But this time it didn’t seem like just teasing to you.”

You feel his hands rub against your thighs, not working their way up, just caressing them while he keeps his eyes locked on you.

“I….” You already knew saying it aloud would sound weird, “I wasn’t sure where tonight was gonna take us.”

He continues to knead into your skin while you go to play with his chain, awaiting his response. You never would’ve imagined this is how the two of you would end up, but damnit if there’s not a part that just excites you a little about it all.

“Did you think we were….” He allows the words to hang in the air but you knew too well what he meant. So you shyly respond, affirming his suspicion.

Wooyoung sighs downward, looking like he just a lost a battle. “I told myself I wouldn’t do anything with you, scolded myself even.”

His words definitely are a shock to you, you stopping your fiddling on his chain to give him your full attention again, “What do you mean?”

“You’re just too cute, Y/N-ah, how could I not think about you in those kinds of ways,” his eyes are back on you, large and dark with plead, “But even when we got paired up together, I told myself to not do anything stupid. Because you don’t deserve that.”

The confession makes your head spin while watching him even more intensely.

“Are you sure this is something you want? If we do this, I promise you I’m not gentle and I don’t have any intention on being so.” He waits for your response but your mind is still murky from his previous statements. What does all of this mean? What was he trying to tell you?

You study him further. The softening of his eyes deepening the longer you two sit in silence. How his now dried hair hangs flowy on his forehead. His skin is clear with full lips. An absolutely gorgeous sight to take in. He’s absolutely gorgeous.

So much so in fact, that you don’t spare another second before leaning in to touch his lips with your own. And he’s quick to react, reciprocating the action in an instant.

It feels as if any previous doubts in your mind just fade out, leaving you with the blissful feeling of Wooyoung. He kisses you like he’s starved. Not sloppy, but uniformed. Almost like he’s been waiting for this and doesn’t want to mess up.

Your mouth moves perfectly with his, and you start tilting your head to either side. He copies your action and the two of you begin to get completely absorbed in the make out.

The hands on your legs work their way up, snaking behind you to cup your ass. He’s had literal dreams of this, and how your ass would feel in his hands. But those don’t compare, can’t compare, to how euphoric he feels in the moment.

When Wooyoung slips his tongue in your mouth, ever so slightly, the minor action causes you to whine a bit, his own groan buzzing into you. You feel some growth in his lap, soon a hardness pressing in your inner thigh.

Your breathing becomes irregular as random sounds emit from you, loving the way your core reacts accordingly to the pleasure. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on so quickly. Without even realizing you start to feel friction build from underneath you, now catching onto your hips rolling against his lap.

He starts to take charge though, grabbing and moving your ass to further grind into him. You break away first at the new sensation, huffing and hipping lightly while you struggle to keep your eyes open. Wooyoung takes notice in the way your expression looks so overwhelmed and just so damn cute.

“You like grinding on my cock?” The words tumble out as he flops his head against the headboard, “We haven’t even done anything and you look like you’re already gonna cum.”

His words are ammo to you, fueling you to gyrate faster while your hands go up above his head. He bites his lip, hard, to stop a loud groan from escaping

“You can’t cum just yet, Y/N-ah.” The sentence is more airy, like he’s struggling himself with the pleasure. You still continue though, too caught up in your satisfaction to notice him hoist an arm around your back and flip you face up onto the bed.

He lands between you, throwing in more clothed thrusts while holding in a smile at your reaction, a mix between lust and anger.

“What-” He bucks particularly hard into it your core that you thought you were going to orgasm right there, “Nrgh! What was that for?”

Wooyoung dips his head down to your cheeks, kissing them tenderly before scooting towards your ear. He eases up on the thrusts too until the two of you work at an equal, tiny pace, “I couldn’t have you cumming, not when I finally get to enjoy this.”

He wiggles down a bit till he reaches your stomach, taking the fabric of your shirt between his fingers and lifting it up towards your mouth. You gladly accept it, him shoving the tee until your mouth was full.

When he glances back down, your top now fully in view, his eyes almost bulge out of his head.

"Holy..." He drags his fingers up the curve of your waist to your outer breasts, which are practically spilling out of the tight shirt, "You wore this for me?"

He smirks up at you and your eyebrows furrow at the bad joke. He's lucky your mouth's being occupied at the moment.

Wooyoung goes back to admiring you, craning his neck up to place open kisses on the soft flesh that pokes out before working his way to in between your cleavage.

Your heavy breathing, though muffled, is still audible enough for him to hear, lifting his head up quickly to speak to you, "I think those are gonna be my favorite noises."

You dismiss him, grabbing the back of his head to push him back into you. Wooyoung laughs at your neediness and eagerly goes into your tits again.

The feeling starts to build again in your heat, with you gradually increasing your movements against him. He responds to you by rolling himself further between your legs in a rhythm, the sloppy sounds of him kissing and sucking at you still filling your ears.

You've always been a quick pleaser, not typically lasting more than 15 minutes when pleasuring yourself.

If Wooyoung hadn't changed positions earlier, you most likely would've finished like that, which for the record you were perfectly contempt with.

But now everything feels like so much. So much happening at once that the desperation to spill over comes clawing out.

Wooyoung doesn't let that happen though, letting up once he felt you grinding even harder into him. A single string of spit still connecting to your breasts hangs past his mouth, another all-knowing grin plastered on.

"Someone's a little quick on the trigger." Throwing caution to the wind, he sticks a hand against the middle of your underwear, making you squirm on the spot, "Oh, I can see why. You're fucking soaked."

You mumble out a reply but he pretends he doesn't understand, which to be fair he probably doesn't.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that. Say it again for me." This time he pulls your shirt out, your own little spit string dropping down to your chin.

You gasp harshly, "You're so mean, Wooyoung."

He peers back to your face, staring intently at you when his fingers below push rather deep into your underwear, the action causing you to hike up and grimace, “Hmmm….yeah, I guess I can be.”

In no time his mouth is back between your cleavage as his fingers work your clothed core. You think your hearts gonna explode from overstimulation. You wiggle yourself against his hand, twitching when he starts to move your fabric to the side.

The bare touch he has brings such a feeling you’ve never experienced, making you shiver. The way he would cup your pussy momentarily before releasing, rubbing at your clit again then repeating it all once more. Honestly you thought you were game over.

Till Wooyoung takes his hand away from you fully and sits up. Your face drops at the absence of his touch.

“Hey, what’d I say?” He fakes an angry expression before cracking out into a playful one, “You can’t cum just yet, I haven’t even fucked you.”

He notices the greediness in your eyes, the way you’ve only been concerned on getting yourself off and not him. And he’s not even mad at you for it, finding it rather enticing the desperation you have. Actually, it’s turning him on so fucking much.

“Look at this.”

His voice is authoritative, and when you don’t look exactly where he wants you to, he roughly grabs your hand to palm him through his boxers, “I’m leaking right now and I haven’t even taken my cock out.”

The wetness permeates to your fingertips and you quiver, a sudden sensation taking over. Like you want him inside of you right now.

“I’m gonna pound you until you’re shaking from me,” He wraps his arms underneath you to hoist you up, twisting you around till you’re on all 4’s, “So no orgasming. At least until I say so.”

You go to speak when a hand pushes your head down into a pillow, automatically arching your back with your ass poking out. Your underwear spreads across your cheeks which causes Wooyoung to sigh happily, “I could look at your sexy ass forever.”

“Wooyoung-ah,” You heave, already waiting too long for him, “Hurry up.”

Your voice again was never rude, but it did come off as whiny. He goes to make your wish come true but before that, he lands a harsh smack against your plush skin.

“Fuck, it even jiggles. Y/N-ah, you’re gonna make me cum on myself.” His words make your eyes flutter, swearing that if he kept talking you’d be done for, again.

“Need you in me…..please.” Your last attempt at pleading does the trick for you, with him bringing your underwear down to your knees. He positions himself behind you as he goes to pull down his boxer shorts.

“No more stalling starting right now.” A stroke of dick sends tingles down his spin, then, of course, he toys with your entrance.

Sliding just barely his damp head into you before swiftly pulling it out, rubbing his full length on your pussy lips. He taunts you in a manner that you couldn’t even verbally protest cause it still felt so good.

“I….” Your voice trails off from his continued teasing but that does stop him from being curious.

“Mmm, what’s that?” There’s no edge to his tone this time. If anything, he presents himself softer and more genuine.

You choke on your breath, “I’ve never wanted someone so bad before.” Wooyoung hears the possessiveness in your voice and just like that, his facade comes crumbling down, reaching his breaking point.

If only you’d understand how true those words are for himself.

“Okay,” he pause himself to readjust, “I’m actually gonna fuck you into the sheets now.”

Before he does, his reaches a hand to grab your hair, twisting it to pull you back, “Just let me know when to stop.”

You nod as your consent, which then Wooyoung throws your head back down and brings your waist further up.

He gives no warning when he thrusts himself fully deep into your core, the motion causing your head to almost drive into the headboard.

“Oh my….you’re so damn tight.” His own eyes practically roll back at the feeling of your walls around him, and he almost doesn’t wanna move.

But then you wiggle your hips in need of some friction, and soon he begins to pound into you, just like he said he would.

It starts off slow, him letting the action run through you as your slickness spreads across his cock. You even have the strength to rock with him though you weren’t sure how much longer that would last.

He’s holding onto your waist for support, but then switches one of them to the headboard above, sort of mimicking your earlier position.

His head becomes dizzy with your soft, tiny groans and the slapping sound of his skin against yours as a background.

“S-Shit, think you’re gonna make me…..” Wooyoung becomes too enveloped in the sensation, the intensity from you both, to even finish the sentence.

He gets faster while you grow more limp. Your own pleasure starts to consume you and soon you don’t have the willpower to move. He looks down briefly to your ass, taking the hand from your waist to slap your cheeks.

“Ah!” You gulp in for air, “shit….”

“Oh you like that?” Another one lands on you, though this had some sting behind it. But you love it, “Told you, you needa spankin.”

He doesn’t stop there. Grasping at your tits in front, he forcefully tugs your tank top downwards till they fall out, “Need both.”

Then, he unleashes a smack onto your breasts, this round making you cry aloud, “Wooyoung!”

“You’re so cute, Y/N-ah.” He roughly grabs your mounds of flesh and shakes them, “I love your body so damn much, could fuck you all the time.”

He goes back to fucking you, but your mind wanders. You want to ask if he truly means that, but when a particularly hard thrusts sends you soaring out of your stars, you’re quick to forget.

There’s a build up approaching and your cunt feels extra sensitive from the previous activities. You’ve surprised yourself by lasting this long, but you know your end is near.

“Woo, can I-” The words get caught in your throat and instead you croak them out.

He knows exactly what you want though, and how to give it to you. He folds himself over to completely engulf you, him wrapping both arms around your stomach. He’s still pumping in and out yet his pace has increased significantly, “Yeah, yeah you can cum now. You’ve been such a good girl.”

With his permission you let go, allowing yourself to succumb to the intoxicating heat spreading all around. Wooyoung’s breathing is present behind you as he struggles to find his own regular pattern.

He’s whining, though quietly, into your shoulder, muttering small praises, “Fuck, you’re so good. So damn good. You’ll never let anyone else have you, right?”

He drives his hips continuously as you utter incoherent nonsense, “Promise me no one else will ever see you like this. Can you do that for me?”

You can hardly muster a reply but after a few more gasps it come out, “I promise.”

Your eyes begin to flutter while Wooyoung peppers small kisses down your spine, “You’re mine now.”

And just like that, your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, just a massive explosion causing you to shake. The feeling of your walls contracting around his cock causes Wooyoung to finish too, the two of you cumming in sync. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, and you whimper loudly.

You’ve never had one hit you so intense before, and even Wooyoung’s load is more than usual as he fills you up, your cunt milking his dick in pulses.

You try to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible, taking a mental note of the whole night until slowly you come down from your high.

Wooyoung finishes as well, his hips growing slow until he finally stops. Instead of removing himself immediately however, he takes in the feeling of him still buried in you, loving how warm you feel. You both breathe heavy and you feel him clench his arms around you.

After regaining your composure, you flop down onto his bed, Wooyoung following close behind you. He lands on top of you and sighs, “You’re probably the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

You giggle lightly, “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” He plants another kiss this time on your inner neck, “And I’m definitely your last.”

At that, you crane your neck to him, leisurely turning over as he scoots back slightly, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His hair is now slightly wet from sweat, showing just how much effort he put in, “Cause, you’re never getting cock from anyone else again. If you want it, you have me.”

The smile that spreads afterwards is shit-eating and mischievous. You’re amused by this but don’t oppose it, and Wooyoung senses your acceptance at his declaration.

He drops down to your lips, kissing you in such a passion that felt had a little more to it than he’s willing to show and maybe you don’t want him to. At least, not right now.

Just as you start to get into it, he breaks away, “Wait, I remembered something.”

“What is it?” Your cock your head to the side a bit in confusion, an act that briefly makes him put his guard down. But he quickly regains it, and scoots down towards the end of the bed.

He takes ahold of your back thighs and pushes them towards you, your legs reactively parting slightly. He then moves your knees apart and creates an open view for himself to your pussy.

There's an audible groan, "Oh fuck, I need to burn this image in my head.”

His cum leaking out of you combined with your puffy cunt practically makes him hard again. He continues praising you and gloats about how fuckable your cunt is.

Your face burns as you can’t help but cower from the attention, but apart of you knows you’ll be getting more of this in the future.

Better start getting used to it now.

- Bonus -

When you wake up again, it’s to your phone violently ringing off in the distance. You feel a heavy arm slung over you and it takes you a minute to realize Wooyoung is nestling between your neck with a leg on top of yours, out like a light.

Still groggy, you sit up, some surprise coursing through you as you notice your lack of clothing. But that didn’t matter as of right now. All you want is to find this phone and shut it the hell up.

You aimlessly search through the comforter, then bending over to reach the ground when you see a light being covered by your jeans pocket.

Now you have to get up and actually go retrieve the device, something you do then your back onto the bed.

The photo ID is of you and your roommate 2 years ago when you guys first met in high school. A memory you’d rather forget from when she took you fishing for the first time with her family. Your eyes also dart up to the time which reads 2:43 AM.

Oh gosh.

You press the answer button, “Hello-”

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I’ve been texting and calling you for the past 2 hours and I was getting worried!”

You wince at her shouting, holding the phone a way from your ear slightly, “Sorry, sorry. The storm got really bad so Wooyoung offered to let me sleep here. I should’ve told you that-”

“Damn straight you should’ve! Had me thinking the fucker kidnapped you or something, you’re so reckless.”

Your eyebrows furrow, minor irritation pricking at you for her earlier stunt, “Okay, I get where you’re coming from, but you’re the one who knew it was gonna rain. Why would you let me wear grey-!”

“Oh come on, you are not bringing that up right no-”

Your phone gets plucked out of your grasp and soon you hear the end-call noise. You look over at Wooyoung who’s resting up on his forearms, your phone in a hand with your call gone from the screen.

“She’s really loud, woke me up from our nap time.” He mutters then goes searching through your phone before he appears to type out something.

“Wooyoung!” Your shock subsides as the realization of what he’d just done dawns on you, “You can’t hang up on her, she’s my roommate.”

He just shrugs his shoulders, your scolding rolling off of him, “I just did though, plus shouldn’t she be asleep right now? It’s too late for you girls to be up.”

You scowl at him when he glances up at you, shooting you a tiny smile. Then he hands out your phone and you take it skeptically, “What’d you do?”

“Relax, I just told your roommate you’d talk to her in the morning. She needs to take a chill pill, texting you 47 times, holy shit.”

You graze through the messages and see all of the texts she’d sent asking about your whereabouts and then you see the one Wooyoung sent merely seconds ago.

“Hey, come back to bed, you need sleep.” He attempts to pull you back to him and you allow him to, falling down into his chest.

And that’s how you spend the rest of the night, safe in Wooyoung’s arms.

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