#(please note the heavy sarcasm) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gyuuberryy · 3 months ago

Text

pushing on my buttons!

pairing: bodyguard!jay x rich ceo's daughter!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, tension

synopsis: after a kidnapping attempt, your father hires jay, a cold and infuriating bodyguard you can’t seem to get rid of. you push his buttons at every turn, but as danger closes in, the tension between you turns into something far more dangerous—an undeniable connection neither of you can ignore.

warnings: mentions of blood, a bit of fighting, kissing

note: i'm dropping smth two months later finallyy(i'm still in the middle of exams AGAIN). i feel like this is not my best work, i had a major writer's block with it and ended up making it basic? idk i haven't been feeling well recently with the insane amount of workload i have since the start of this year and the burn out shows in this ughh. i hope the fic isn't too bad TT enjoy!

word count 5.8k

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3 | taglist

the heavy oak doors of your father’s office loomed before you, their polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the hallway chandelier. you paused, your fingers hovering over your phone screen, scrolling through a feed of designer handbags you didn’t need but absolutely wanted.

the text from your father had been curt, almost ominous: “my office. now.”

you rolled your eyes. it was probably about the credit card statement again. you had a perfectly good excuse ready—charity auction, obviously. he’d buy it. he always did.

with a sigh, you pushed the doors open, not bothering to knock. “you rang?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned against the doorframe, still engrossed in your phone.

your father didn’t look up from his desk. “sit,” he commanded, his voice sharp enough to make you glance up.

you blinked. okay. not a good sign.

it was then that you noticed him. the man standing beside your father, a silent shadow in the room. he was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed entirely in black—black tactical pants, black fitted shirt, black boots that looked like they could crush a skull without breaking a sweat. his arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed but somehow radiating intensity. his face was all sharp angles and hard lines, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the room with a precision that made you feel like he’d already dissected every inch of it—and you along with it.

you straightened, your phone slipping into your pocket as you took a step forward. “who’s this?” you asked, your tone light but laced with suspicion.

your father gestured toward the man, his expression unyielding. “this is jay. your new bodyguard.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and absurd. then you laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound that echoed off the mahogany walls. “you’re joking.”

your father didn’t laugh. neither did jay. in fact, jay didn’t so much as twitch. his expression remained impassive, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

you turned back to your father, your laughter fading into a scoff. “this isn’t necessary. i’m not in danger. that whole kidnapping thing? a fluke. it’s been weeks and nothing’s happened.”

your father’s jaw tightened. “which is exactly why you need protection. we’re not taking any chances.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but jay beat you to it. his voice was low, calm, and infuriatingly even. “i’m not here to be liked, just to do my job.”

your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. excuse me?

he met your glare without flinching, his expression as unreadable as a stone wall. he didn’t care. not about your annoyance, not about your defiance, not about you. the realisation made your blood boil.

“congratulations on the worst job in existence,” you said coolly, tilting your head as you studied him. “because i’m not some damsel in distress.”

jay didn’t blink. “right. you handled the last situation so well.”

your jaw dropped. the audacity. “excuse you—”

“enough,” your father interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting this entire conversation. “jay will be with you at all times. this isn’t up for discussion.”

you stared at him, then at jay, who was still standing there like some brooding statue, completely unfazed. your mind raced, already plotting ways to make his life a living hell. fine. if this was happening, you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

you flashed jay a sweet, taunting smile, the kind that usually made people nervous. “try and keep up.”

his lips twitched—just barely—but it wasn’t a smile. more like a challenge accepted. “i don’t plan on falling behind.”

oh, you already hated him. hated the way he looked at you like you were a problem to be solved, hated the way he stood there like he owned the room, hated the way his voice sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. but most of all, you hated that he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by you.

your father exhaled, clearly done with the conversation. “jay will start immediately. i expect you to cooperate.”

you didn’t respond. instead, you turned on your heel and strode toward the door, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. you could feel jay’s eyes on your back, tracking your every move, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder. let him try to keep up. you were already planning your first escape.

as the doors swung shut behind you, you couldn’t help but smirk. this was going to be fun.

the first twenty-four hours with jay as your shadow were unbearable. it wasn’t just his constant presence—it’s the way he moves like he knows what you’re about to do before you do it, like some kind of infuriating psychic in tactical gear.

you woke up to find him standing right outside your bedroom door. arms crossed, eyes alert, posture straight. like a soldier. like a statue. like someone who had absolutely no life outside of making yours miserable.

you glare at him, silk robe slipping off your shoulder, hair a mess. “do you ever sleep? or do you just stand there like a creep all night?”

jay doesn’t react. not even a twitch. his gaze flicks over you, assessing, before looking away.

he didn’t react. not even a twitch. his dark eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing, before he looked away, his expression as blank as ever.

“good morning,” he said, his tone flat.

you rolled your eyes and slammed the door in his face.

when you went to get coffee, he was already there, waiting. the barista gave him a once-over, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the faint scar that ran along his jawline. then they glanced at you, their eyebrows raised in a silent question: are you okay? do you need help?

you forced a smile. “he’s harmless,” you said, though the words tasted like a lie. jay didn’t so much as blink.

you grabbed your latte and stormed out, jay falling into step behind you like some kind of silent, brooding ghost. you could feel his eyes on your back, watching, always watching. it was suffocating.

in meetings, it was worse. you sat at the head of the conference table, your laptop open, your team discussing quarterly projections, and there he was—standing against the far wall, arms still crossed, his gaze sweeping the room like he was expecting an ambush at any moment. every time you glanced his way, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable.

you tried to ignore him. you really did. but his presence was like a thundercloud hovering over the room, dark and oppressive. by the time the meeting ended, you were ready to scream.

you had to get rid of him immediately.

attempt #1: the emergency exit

it was simple, really. you waited until you were in the middle of a crowded lobby with jay, your phone pressed to your ear, your face the picture of distress. “no—no, stay right there, i’ll be there in five minutes,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. then you slipped out the back door, quick, smooth, victorious.

you couldn’t help but grin as you rounded the corner, your heart racing with the thrill of escape. finally, some freedom. finally, some—

jay was already there.

leaning against your car, arms still crossed, not even looking at you. like he’d been waiting for hours. like he’d known exactly where you’d go.

you froze, your smile slipping. “how the hell—”

he finally acknowledged you, tilting his head just slightly. his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

your fingers clenched into fists. oh. it was war.

attempt #2: the disappearing act

you waited until you were at a charity gala, the kind of event where everyone was too busy sipping champagne and gossipping to notice anything amiss. you slipped into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, your movements quick and deliberate. you ducked behind a potted plant, then made your way to the service entrance, your heart pounding with excitement.

you were almost there. almost free. and then—

“leaving so soon?”

you whirled around, your breath catching in your throat. jay stood in the doorway, his arms still crossed, his expression as calm as ever. he didn’t even look winded.

“how do you keep doing that?” you demanded, your voice rising.

he shrugged, the motion infuriatingly casual. “it’s my job.”

“your job is to annoy me to death?”

“if that’s what it takes to keep you alive, then yes.”

you glared at him, your chest heaving with frustration. he stared back, unflinching, his dark eyes boring into yours. for a moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, and you wanted to so badly give into it and just cause a tantrum. instead, you turned on your heel and stormed back into the gala, jay following close behind.

attempt #3: sensory overload

the mall was a chaotic symphony of chatter, clattering shopping bags, and the faint hum of pop music playing over the speakers. you strode through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, your eyes darting toward the exit signs. jay was a step behind you, his presence as unshakable as ever. his dark eyes scanned the crowd, his posture tense, like he was expecting a sniper to take a shot at any moment.

you rolled your eyes. “relax, rambo. it’s a mall, not a war zone.”

he didn’t respond. of course he didn’t. he just kept walking, his gaze flicking toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you hadn’t somehow vanished into thin air.

you gritted your teeth. this was supposed to be your day. you had a date with someone your mutual friend had set you up with. your father had forbidden you from going, but since when had you ever listened to him? and yet, here was jay, ruining everything like some overgrown shadow you couldn’t shake.

you bit back a sigh. if you wanted to shake him, you’d have to get creative.

spotting a perfume shop up ahead, you darted inside, the overwhelming scent of floral and citrus hitting you instantly. jay followed without hesitation, his towering frame making the narrow aisles feel even smaller.

“why are we here?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

“to test some new scents,” you replied innocently, grabbing a random bottle and spraying it on your wrist. “you wouldn’t understand.”

jay raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

you tried a few more perfumes, using up the space on your wrists and arms. finally, you turned to him, holding up a bottle.

“hold out your arm.”

jay blinked. “what?”

“you’re supposed to test it on skin,” you said, your tone overly patient. “and i’m out of space. come on.”

reluctantly, he extended his arm. you sprayed the perfume lightly on his wrist and leaned in, inhaling deeply.

jay tensed under your touch, his muscles stiffening as your fingers brushed his skin. you glanced up, noticing the tightness in his jaw, but you didn’t comment.

“it’s not bad,” you said, tilting your head. “but maybe something lighter.”

you reached for another bottle, quickly spraying it on his other wrist. this time, you didn’t stop at one spray. you pressed the nozzle again and again, filling the air with an overpowering mix of scents.

jay sneezed once, then twice, stumbling back a step as he tried to clear his nose.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice muffled between sneezes.

“just testing!” you said, holding up your hands in mock innocence. “you’re being dramatic.”

jay glared at you, but before he could recover, you dropped the perfume bottle and bolted, weaving through the crowded store and out into the mall. you didn’t look back. you didn’t need to. you could hear his footsteps behind you, heavy and determined.

your heart raced as you sprinted through the mall, dodging shoppers and strollers. you spotted a clothing store up ahead, its entrance tucked away in a quieter corner. perfect. you ducked inside, your breath coming in short gasps as you scanned the store. the dressing rooms. that was your best bet.

you darted toward them, slipping into the first stall you saw. you yanked the curtain closed, your chest heaving as you pressed your back against the wall. for a moment, there was silence. then you heard it—the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching the stall.

the curtain flew open, and there he was. jay. his chest was rising and falling slightly, his dark eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped into the stall, his body crowding yours as he pinned you against the wall. the curtain fell shut behind him, enclosing you in the small, dimly lit space.

you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. he was so close you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pulse jumped in his neck. his hands were braced on either side of your head, his body caging you in. the air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your stomach twist and your heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with running.

“you’re not as clever as you think you are,” he said, his voice low and rough.

you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “and you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

his lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk. “try me.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue. his eyes dropped to your lips, just for a second, and something shifted between you. the air crackled with electricity, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his body seemed to press closer without actually moving.

for a moment, neither of you moved. then jay stepped back, his expression shuttering as he regained control. “let’s go,” he said, his tone clipped.

you didn’t argue. for once, you didn’t have the words.

the party was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume, champagne, and the faint hum of a live jazz band. you stood near the centre of the room, dressed in a sleek black gown that hugged your figure perfectly, a glass of champagne in hand. you laughed at something your friend said, the sound light and carefree, but your attention was elsewhere.

jay.

he was standing across the room, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on you. he wasn’t even trying to hide it. he was watching you like a hawk, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense enough to make your skin prickle.

your friend leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “he’s been looking at you all night.”

you shrugged, pretending not to care. “who? jay? he’s just doing his job.”

but the truth was, you did care. you were hyper-aware of him now, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. and it annoyed you. it annoyed you that he could stand there, so calm and collected, while you felt like you were unravelling.

so you decided to push him.

you flirted with everyone but him. you laughed a little too loudly at a joke a handsome stranger made. you let your hand linger on the arm of a guy who clearly had no idea what personal space was. you disappeared into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, pretending jay didn’t exist.

but he did. he always did.

suddenly, a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with a cocky grin—stepped into your space, his hand hovering near your waist as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. his breath smelled like whisky, the proximity way too close for your comfort.

you froze, your smile faltering. before you could react, jay was there.

he moved like a shadow, swift and silent, stepping between you and the man with a presence that was impossible to ignore. his voice was cool but sharp, cutting through the noise of the party like a knife. “hands off.”

the man blinked, his grin faltering as he took in jay’s imposing figure. “whoa, man, i was just—”

“i don’t care what you were just doing,” jay said, his tone low and dangerous. “back off.”

the man hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and jay, before he finally raised his hands in surrender and slunk away. you stared after him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest.

when you turned back to jay, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “you have no idea what you’re doing.”

your breath caught. “what are you talking about?”

he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice rough and tinged with something that sounded almost like frustration. “flirting with strangers. disappearing into crowds. acting like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “i can take care of myself.”

“can you?” he asked, his tone challenging. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your tongue. he was close—too close—his body crowding yours, his heat radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and something woodsy, and it made your head spin.

as the night wore on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, rough and low and so, so close. you caught yourself glancing at him more than once, your heart skipping a beat every time your eyes met his.

oh.

so he did care.

it happens slowly. or maybe it doesn’t. maybe it’s been happening this whole time, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice. but now, you do.

you start noticing the way he moves. always a step ahead, always positioning himself between you and anything that could be a threat. his sleeves are always rolled up, revealing the veins that line his forearms, his hands steady and sure. you notice the way he watches you, his dark eyes scanning every room like he’s mapping out every possible danger, but it’s never just that. there’s something else in his gaze, something you can’t quite name.

and worse? you start feeling it.

the heat in your chest when his hand brushes yours as he passes you a coffee. the frustration that coils in your stomach when someone else looks at him for too long. the way your breath catches when he says your name instead of brat or princess or whatever sarcastic nickname he’s come up with that day.

this is a problem.

but you handle it the way you always do—by pushing him.

it’s late, with the city feeling quiet, almost peaceful, and the only light comes from the flickering neon sign of a 24-hour diner. you’re sitting in a booth by the window, picking at a plate of fries you didn’t really want but ordered anyway because you were too stubborn to admit you were hungry. jay sits across from you, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the nearly empty diner like it’s a potential battlefield.

you roll your eyes. “relax, jay. the only danger here is the cholesterol in these fries.”

he just takes a sip of his black coffee, his expression as unreadable as ever.

you lean back in the booth, crossing your arms over your chest. “you know, you don’t have to babysit me 24/7. i’m not a child.”

his eyes flick to yours, sharp and assessing. “could’ve fooled me.”

you glare at him. “excuse me?”

he sets his coffee cup down, his voice low and even. “you act like rules don’t apply to you. like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

your jaw tightens. “and you act like you’re my dad. newsflash—you’re not.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the tension between you is thick, almost suffocating, and you can feel it building, building, building until it finally snaps.

“why do you even care so much?” you demand, your voice rising just enough to draw the attention of the tired-looking waitress behind the counter.

jay exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t get it, do you?”

your heartbeat stutters. “then explain it to me.”

for a second, he says nothing. he just looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure you out. then he stands, slow and deliberate, and slides into the booth beside you. he’s close now, closer than he’s ever let himself be, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of your shirt.

you don’t back away.

his eyes flicker to your lips, and your breath catches. the air between you is so thin, so sharp you can almost taste it.

he leans in, his voice low and rough. “you have no idea what i’d do to keep you safe.”

your pulse is in your throat, waiting, waiting, waiting.

but before anything can happen—

the bell above the diner door jingles, and a group of loud, laughing teenagers spills inside, shattering the moment.

jay pulls back instantly, his jaw tightening as he slides out of the booth. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. he just walks to the counter, his posture rigid, like nothing happened.

like nothing almost happened.

but you know better.

you press a hand to your chest, trying to steady your heartbeat, but it’s no use. your mind is racing, replaying the moment over and over again—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the way your body had reacted to his nearness.

this is getting dangerous.

later, as you sit in the back of the car on the way home, you can’t stop thinking about it. jay is in the driver’s seat, his eyes fixed on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. you stare at the back of his head, your thoughts a tangled mess.

you think about the way he’d stepped between you and that guy at the party, his voice sharp and commanding. you think about the way he’d leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

and you think about the way he’d pulled away, like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean anything.

but it did. you know it did.

you mentally groan, leaning your head against the window. this is a problem. a big problem. because no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, you can’t deny it anymore.

you like him.

and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

you don’t talk about it.

the almost-kiss, the tension that stains every interaction now—it hangs between you like a live wire, sharp and charged. you find yourself watching him more, catching the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. his gaze lingers a little too long, his movements a little too deliberate, and it drives you insane.

but you don’t talk about it.

instead, you push. you push him, you push yourself, you push the boundaries of whatever this is between you. and he pushes back, always steady, always in control, until—

one day it happens fast. too fast.

you’re walking back to the car after an event, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. jay is a step behind you, his presence a constant, grounding force. you’re arguing about something stupid—something meaningless—because that’s what you do now. you bicker, you snipe, you push each other’s buttons, all while pretending the tension between you doesn’t exist.

and then, out of nowhere, it happens.

you don’t even see it coming. one moment, you’re stepping off the curb, and the next, jay is moving—swift, silent, and utterly precise. he shoves you out of the way, his body shielding yours as a figure lunges at you from the shadows.

there’s a flash of metal, a grunt of pain, and then the sound of footsteps retreating into the night.

you stumble, catching yourself against the car, your heart pounding in your chest. “jay—”

he’s already turning, his hand pressed to his side, his breathing steady despite the blood seeping through his fingers. “get in the car.”

you stare at him, your mind racing. “you’re bleeding. we need to go to the hospital—l”

“it’s nothing, just a scratch” he says, his voice calm, like this is just another day on the job. like he didn’t just take a knife for you.

but it’s not nothing. it’s not nothing because your hands are shaking as you reach for him, your fingers brushing against the warm, sticky blood staining his shirt. “jay—”

“get in the car,” he repeats, his tone sharper this time. “now.”

you don’t argue. you can’t. your mind is a blur as you climb into the passenger seat, your eyes never leaving him as he slides behind the wheel. his movements are steady, controlled, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel.

the drive home is silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. you keep glancing at him, your chest tight with something you can’t quite name. fear. guilt. something else.

when you finally arrive, you follow him inside, your hands still trembling. he heads straight for the bathroom, and you trail after him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“let me see,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn’t argue this time. he just sits on the edge of the bathtub, his shirt already half-off, revealing the deep gash along his side. it’s not fatal, not even close, but it’s enough to make your stomach twist.

you grab the first aid kit from under the sink and kneel in front of him, your hands shaking as you clean the wound. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel his eyes on you, heavy and unreadable.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” you say, your voice breaking. “you shouldn’t have—”

“it’s my job,” he interrupts, his tone calm, like that explains everything.

but it doesn’t. not to you. not when your hands are stained with his blood, not when your chest feels like it’s about to collapse under the weight of everything you’re feeling.

“don’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “don’t do that again.”

he looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours, and for the first time, you see it—the crack in his armour. the flicker of something raw, something real.

“you don’t get it,” he says, his voice low and rough. “i’d do it again. every time.”

your breath catches, your hands still pressed against his side. “why?”

he doesn’t answer. not with words, at least. instead, he reaches up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch so gentle it makes your chest ache.

and that’s it. that’s the breaking point.

you don’t think. you don’t hesitate. you just pull him in, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and relief. for a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t respond, and you’re terrified you’ve made a mistake.

but then his hands are in your hair, his mouth moving against yours, and it’s like the world stops. the tension, the anger, the fear, it all melts away, leaving nothing but the two of you.

the room is silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the overhead light. jay’s hands are still tangled in your hair, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. you can feel the rapid beat of his heart where your hand rests against his chest, and it’s almost comforting, knowing he’s as affected by this as you are.

but then he pulls back, his expression shuttering as he regains control. “we shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and rough.

you blink, your chest tightening at his words. “why not?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he stands, his movements stiff as he turns away from you. “because it complicates things.”

you stare at him, your heart sinking. “complicates things? jay, you just took a knife for me. i think things are already complicated.”

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t understand.”

“then explain it to me,” you snap, your frustration bubbling over. “because i’m tired of pretending like this—whatever this is—doesn’t exist.”

he turns to look at you, his dark eyes blazing with something you can’t quite name. “you think i don’t feel it too? you think i don’t want—” he cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as he looks away. “it doesn’t matter what i want. my job is to keep you safe. that’s it.”

you step closer, your hands trembling at your sides. “and what if i don’t want you to just be my bodyguard? what if i want more?”

he doesn’t respond. not with words, at least. but you can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. for a moment, you think he might give in, might finally let himself feel something.

but then he steps back, his expression hardening. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

you laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “don’t i? because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’re the one who’s scared.”

his eyes narrow, and for a second, you think you’ve pushed him too far. but then he exhales, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right. i am scared. because if something happens to you—if i let myself care too much and i can’t protect you—” he cuts himself off, his voice breaking. “i can’t lose you.”

your breath catches, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. “jay—”

he doesn’t let you finish. instead, he steps forward, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you again. this time, it’s softer, slower, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you. and you let him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pull him closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. “i can’t promise this will be easy,” he says, his voice low and rough. “but i can promise i’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you swallow, your throat tight with emotion. “that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

you don’t talk about it for a full twenty-four hours.

not because you regret it. god, no. if anything, the memory of his hands on you, his lips against yours, plays on a loop in your mind, leaving you breathless every time. but now, there’s no going back. no pretending this isn’t real. no pretending you don’t feel the way his presence sets your skin on fire, or the way your heart races when he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

jay is still jay. still overprotective, still infuriating, still the same stoic bodyguard who drives you up the wall. but now?

now, every argument ends with him pulling you in by the waist, his voice low and rough as he murmurs, “you’re impossible,” before silencing you with a kiss.

now, every lingering stare actually leads to something—a brush of his hand against yours, a heated glance that makes your stomach flip, a moment where the tension between you becomes too much to ignore.

and now, your father figures it out almost immediately.

it happens during a family dinner, of all things. you’re sitting at the table, picking at your food while jay sits in his usual spot by you. your father is at the head of the table, his sharp gaze flicking between you and jay with a calculating look that makes your stomach sink.

you try to act normal. you really do. but when jay’s hand brushes against yours as he passes you a glass of water, and you catch yourself smiling at him without thinking, your father clears his throat.

“so,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “when were you planning on telling me?”

you freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth. “telling you what?”

your father raises an eyebrow, gesturing between you and jay. “about this.”

you feel your face heat, your heart pounding in your chest. “i—what are you talking about?”

your father sighs, rubbing his temples like he’s already done with this conversation. “at least it’s him.”

jay freezes, his posture stiffening as he looks at your father. you gape, your mind racing. “excuse me?”

your father shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “you were always a handful, but he can handle it.”

you stare at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. this is not the reaction you were expecting. not even close. you were prepared for yelling, for threats, for jay to be fired on the spot. but this? this casual acceptance? it’s almost worse.

you turn to jay, still reeling. “is this really happening?”

jay looks equally disturbed, his jaw tight as he meets your father’s gaze. “sir, i—”

your father holds up a hand, cutting him off. “don’t. just… keep her out of trouble. that’s all i ask.”

and just like that, the conversation is over. your father goes back to his meal like nothing happened, leaving you and jay to exchange a stunned look.

later, when you’re alone in your room, jay leans against the door, his arms crossed as he watches you pace back and forth. “well,” he says, his voice dry, “that could’ve gone worse.”

you stop pacing, turning to glare at him. “worse? he basically gave us his blessing. that’s not worse. that’s… i don’t even know what that is.”

jay shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “guess you’re stuck with me.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away when he steps closer, his hands settling on your waist. “lucky me,” you mutter, though the way your heart skips a beat betrays your words.

jay’s smirk softens into something warmer, his eyes searching yours. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you don’t respond. not with words, at least. instead, you lean into him, your hands resting against his chest as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, before leaning down to kiss you. and as his lips brush against yours, you realise something.

maybe, just maybe, you don’t want to pull away.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲��

#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fics #enhypen x reader #jay #jay park #jay x reader #jay imagines #jay fics #jay oneshots #kpop fics #enhypen royal au #jongseong park #jay enhypen #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader

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hoonjayke · 5 months ago

Text

Yang Jungwon — TRULY MADLY DEEPLY

You are a free spirit, untamed and adventurous. Jungwon is methodical, disciplined and completely predictable. Complete opposites, an unlikely match, Jungwon did not expect his existence would fascinate you, the troublemaker of his course.

PAIRING: — Good boy Jungwon x Bad Girl / Troublemaker Reader (f)

GENRE: fluff, super suggestive, smutyish (kinda), college au, good boy × bad girl trope (we love), strangers to friends to lovers.

WARNINGS: heavy making out, double meaning jokes, mentions of alcohol, skinship, reader falls first Jungwon falls harder, very suggestive in the end but overall fluff.

WC: 10.8k — masterlist - perm taglist

— Author Note: Since I had this idea with Jungwon I couldn't help but write for the last 3 days, he's been wrecking me so bad lately lol. It's my first work with Jungwon and it's a bit longer than my other works, but it's totally worth it. Hope you guys like it, If there are any errors please lmk.

The loud music in the house made Jungwon's eardrums tremble, the number of people increasing by the minute seemed to be slightly suffocating and the drink in his glass was already running low. Jungwon didn't have the habit of going to many parties, he was a little more reserved and liked to be that way. However, he made a few exceptions when Jay invited him saying that it would be legendary.

This time was no different, another party at Jake's house that Jay insisted would be legendary and Jungwon should go to meet more people. Not that Jungwon didn't have many friends, but Jay was way more sociable than him, so he always had someone new to introduce.

As he watched Ni-ki do a funny dance in the middle of the living room, he sat down on the couch that was miraculously free and picked up his phone. He had barely been there for an hour and was already wondering if he should have come.

“I can’t believe you’re already on your phone.” Jungwon looked at Jay, who was in front of him with a look of disbelief. “I’m enjoying the party,” Jungwon replied, “admiring Ni-ki’s beautiful moves.” His tone was laced with sarcasm.

“Man, you need to socialize more like actually talking to people.” Jay sat down next to him sighing “I’ve already met a lot of people thanks to you, thank you very much.” Jungwon saw how the room seemed even more crowded than it had been a few minutes ago.

“You’re impossible,” Jay shook his head negatively, “but at least try to enjoy the food and drinks, Jake chose the best ones.” Jungwon nodded and looked at his own glass, seeing that he would need to refill it soon. “Okay.” He had already passed his final exams so he would try to enjoy this night without thinking too much about studying.

“I'm going to get another drink, do you want one too?” Jay stood up asking uncertainly and Jungwon shook his head, clutching his red cup “I'll finish this one first.” He raised the cup, and Jay gave a side smile “Okay, bro. I'll be right back.”

Jungwon leaned his back against the back of the sofa and turned his gaze to the dance floor that had formed in the center of the room. While trying not to laugh at Jake and Ni-ki having the most hilarious dance battle in the world, his attention was diverted when he felt someone sit down next to him, a sweet scent exuding along with a loud laugh.

He turned around and saw you. Your hair was loose, with a glass in your hand and a – he squinted in the dark lighting and saw a – lollipop – in the other hand. The dark red leather jacket was extremely tight around your waist, contrasting with your black jeans.

“Wow, these guys are hilarious, right?” You commented as if you knew him while Jungwon was still staring at you “Yeah.” He replied automatically and you looked back at him, making him feel embarrassed.

Your eyes scanned his clothes, a perfectly plain dark blue sweatshirt over a white long-sleeved shirt, a thin gray necklace contrasting with his perfectly parted hair. His face was in perfect condition, practically sober. You bit your lower lip trying to contain a smile as you realized that he was clearly one goody two-shoes guy who must have been forced to be there by some friend.

“And why are you sitting here?” You asked curiously, moving closer and Jungwon moved back a little, surprised at how straightforward you were. “I’m enjoying the party.” He replied, looking away and you smiled a little, seeing his reactions.

“Enjoying the party while sitting down?” You raised your eyebrows. Your question made Jungwon run his hand through his hair lightly and give you a closed lip smile “Yeah, something like that.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you realized how right you were about your assumptions. He really was one goody two-shoes guy.

A very cute goody two-shoes.

Your curiosity grew when you realized that he couldn't hold your gaze for long. Ideas began to appear in your mind in a catabolic way while Jungwon remained looking at his cell phone, and then at the track, trying to distract himself.

“Maybe you should try dancing too.” Jungwon looked at you again, giving you a sarcastic smirk and you couldn’t help but notice his small dimple forming. “I can’t dance.” He replied, staring at you as you sucked on the lollipop. “Neither can I, but these are things we do for fun.” He saw your hands searching for something in your pants pockets. “It’s like eating candy while drinking, I know it probably cuts the effect of alcohol, but it’s cool at a party.” Jungwon saw you pull a lollipop out of your pocket and offer it to him. “For you, try it.”

'This girl is weird' was the first thing he thought before taking the candy as you stared at him shamelessly. He felt aware of your gaze and his cheeks suddenly heated up.

He wasn't used to interacting with many girls, especially girls who were strangely direct like you.

“Don’t put it away, you have to try it now.” Jungwon was almost putting the candy away when you came closer and held his forearm, making him nervous. He was already in the corner of the couch so he couldn’t move away any further. “O-Okay .” He quickly replied, opening the candy, trying not to look at you.

'Why does she stay so close?' he thought before putting the lollipop in his mouth and you pulled away slightly and clapped your hands slowly, satisfied with Jungwon's reactions. "So? Isn't it good?" You asked and he just nodded without saying a word.

“You’re kind of shy, aren’t you?” Jungwon noticed how you leaned back against the couch, your arm resting on the backrest as your temples brushed against the fingers of your hand. “What’s your name?”

Jungwon had a small internal debate as to why you seemed so interested in talking to him, but decided to introduce himself anyway. “Jungwon, what’s yours?” He asked and you gave him an excited smile. “Jungwon... that’s a cool name.” You said, lost in thought. “You can create many nicknames. Jungwonie, Jungie, Won...”

With each version of his name being said, Jungwon was sure that you were clearly different from anyone he had ever met. A little crazy, but interesting at the same time. “AH! Wonie too!” Your gaze met his “Well, Jungwon, my name is y/n.” You finally introduced yourself “Nice to meet you, let’s get along well.” You took a sip of your drink, raising the glass like a greeting, making him think that the alcohol was probably cooperating with your actions.

“Sure.” He replied, thinking that your name seemed relatively ordinary compared to your over-the-top personality.

Your little interaction got interrupted by Jay who arrived and gave you both an excited smile “Oh? y/n? I see you finally met my friend Jungwon.”

Jungwon sighed. Of course you know Jay, now everything made sense.

“Hey Jay, it’s been a while.” You saluted Jay and looked at Jungwon. “Yeah, Jungwon is a really nice guy.” Jay noticed how you were looking at Jungwon curiously. “If I knew he was this cute, I would have met him sooner.”

Jungwon swore he felt his whole body stiffen. Did you just call him cute? The tips of Jungwon's ears turned red and you couldn't help but enjoy teasing the boy.

He completely fascinated you.

“Oh?” Jay gave a smirk “It’s because he doesn’t go out that much.” Jay walked towards the couch and you stood up at the same time “I figured.” Jungwon watched you walk “Well boys, now I have to go, but it was great seeing you again Jay,” You turned to Jungwon with a mischievous smile “And it was wonderful meeting you, Jungwonie.” You teased him and he looked away, scratching the back of his neck and nodding.

“See ya.” You gave one last smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Jay looked at Jungwon, laughing at the interaction he just witnessed, and sat down next to him. “I see I interrupted something.” Jay gave a teasing smile, nudging him with his shoulder and Jungwon sighed running his hand over his face “Man, I need another drink.”

Jungwon was relieved to think that he didn't have to worry about seeing you again as this would probably be the only and craziest interaction he would have with you.

That's what he thought.

The week had already started again and Jungwon had arrived early for class as usual. He methodically placed the materials on the table, checking if he had forgotten anything and smiled with satisfaction to see that everything was okay. He opened the laptop, turning it on as the teacher arrived in the room preparing the class material.

Jungwon was extremely responsible with his academic life, always being punctual and completing his assignments on time. He felt good about getting good grades at university and achieving all the goals he set for the future.

For Jungwon, there was nothing better than predictability and discipline in life.

As the teacher taught the class, Jungwon typed up notes on the topic, completely focused on the subject. Before he could write down the last topic spoken, his attention was snatched by your arrival, sitting next to him panting as if you had run a marathon.

“Am I late?” You asked in a whisper and his eyes widened in shock, staring at you in complete disbelief.

“y/n??? What are you doing here?” He asked, completely flabbergasted by the sight of you putting your backpack on your feet and a notebook on the table. The fact that you approached him to the point of sitting next to him as if you were great acquaintances was simply shocking to Jungwon.

You looked at him smiling, getting closer to him. “What do you mean, silly?” Jungwon’s stomach turned at your voice so close to his ear. “We’re on the same major.”

If he already thought you were crazy before, now, he was sure.

Jungwon didn't usually memorize the faces of everyone he had classes with, but he doesn't remember seeing you in any class before. How was it possible that you had the same classes, and your presence had gone unnoticed? You were like a hurricane that arrived and caught everyone's attention.

“I’ve never seen you in this class before.” He answers quietly, turning his attention back to the teacher’s explanation. “That’s because I sit in the back, Jungwonie.” You replied, poking his cheek with your index finger, making him give you a deadly look that amused you.

Teasing Jungwon has officially become one of your favorite hobbies.

“y/n, I need to focus on this class.” He said seriously and you smiled sideways “Sorry, I’ll let you study.” You straightened up and decided to write in your notebook while Jungwon sighed, running his fingers over his eyebrow.

'Is this a dream?' He wondered internally as he gave you quick, surreptitious glances at how you wrote things in such a messy pattern that it made him want to correct everything into an organized bulleted summary.

No margins, paragraphs or spaces. You simply wrote the way it came to your mind.

“You know Jungwon, you get super hot when you get serious like this.” Jungwon looked at you shocked again by your words taking away all the little focus he had. His ears and cheeks were clearly red. A heat rising up his neck.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind crazy?” He whispered back with a disbelieving look that amused you deeply. “Yep, I’ve heard it many times. I’m aware of it.”

Your smile intrigued him. How could someone act like that after just one interaction at a party? He sighed and turned away, trying to ignore your presence, even though he knew it would be impossible.

“This subject is important, it will be on the next tests.” He commented one last time trying to make you focus on the teacher and not on his profile.

“Okay, I’ll pay attention.” Your posture now resembled his, looking straight ahead, focusing on absolutely everything the teacher was saying.

After a few minutes, since Jungwon didn't say anything else, you felt curious and took the opportunity to watch how he typed on his laptop. The veins that ran from his forearm to his hands distracting you. You couldn't resist and sat a little further to the right, slowly approaching him until you could see the screen of his laptop, admiring how he managed to write everything down in such an organized way.

Your scent invaded Jungwon's senses, making him turn around slowly and be caught off guard by your face so close and move away again. "What are you doing?" He asked, seeing how you seemed to be practically glued to his side. "I'm seeing how you take your notes." He hadn't noticed before, but now he saw that you were chewing gum. "They're very organized."

He nodded and decided to ignore what you were doing and try to focus on what he was writing again. “You should do the same.” An idea popped into your head and you smiled. “I think you could teach me.” He scrunched his face at the suggestion. “No thank you, I pass.” He sighed seeing that the last few topics were incomplete due to the distraction that was your presence.

“Geez Jungwonie, don’t be so mean.” Jungwon jumped when he felt you quickly touch his left knee before crossing your arms and staring at him “I want to be a good student.”

“Then start paying attention in class and stop talking.” He gently brought his laptop more to his side and nodded at the teacher with his head.

You pouted playfully, but then smiled, enjoying how Jungwon seemed more expressive than he had been at the party.

Jungwon was more fun than you thought.

The rest of the class you decided to stay quiet and pay attention to what the teacher was saying. Jungwon, on the other hand, had his mind full, wondering how you could be like that. Even though you stayed quiet for the rest of the class, the fact that you were standing next to him and occasionally glancing at his summary to get an idea of what to write in yours took all of his attention away.

When class time ended, he mentally thanked himself that those minutes of mental torture were over. Your presence made him more nervous than any bad joke Jay ever told in his life.

“Jungwon, I loved sitting next to you, let’s do it more often.” You said and he sighed, feeling an absurd mental fatigue. “I hope not.” You laughed at his sincerity and pinched his cheek before grabbing your bag to leave. “Bye, wonie!” Every time you said a nickname for Jungwon, he felt a shiver run through his body.

He had no idea why you seemed so interested in him, but he knew your presence messed with his focus and he needed to be careful about that.

“Man, it’s been so hot lately.” Jake commented, fanning himself with his shirt as he and Jungwon walked towards a drink machine near the dorm. “It’s becoming unbearable.”

“I agree, I get thirsty all the time.” Jungwon stood in front of the machine pondering what he would choose to drink.

Jake chose a soda while Jungwon chose a natural orange juice “Nothing better than a cold drink to cool down.” Jake commented and Jungwon laughed as they walked to the campus building, but they stopped on the way when Jake pointed to a girl walking with an old lady by your side “Hey, isn't that y/n?”

Jungwon looked in the direction Jake was pointing and paid attention to the scene.

You were helping an old lady cross the street while she held onto your arm. Your smile was big as you interacted with the old lady. “Do you know her?” Jungwon asked and Jake nodded “She’s kind of peculiar, but she’s nice.” He replied and Jungwon watched the scene as you left the old lady in a safe place and then ran back to campus.

“She’s definitely peculiar.” Jungwon replied, continuing to walk with Jake before hearing you call his name “Jungwon!!”

You waved from afar and the boys watched you slowly approach. “What a coincidence to find you here.” You commented and Jungwon continued drinking his juice “We take the same course, it’s not that much of a coincidence.” He responded by turning his head to the side and you laughed at his answer.

“Indeed, you’re right. But it’s always good to see you.” You replied, making him look away and turned to Jake. “It’s nice to see you too, Jake.”

Jake chuckled “That’s good to know. Were you helping that old lady?” He asked, and you put your hands in the pockets of your jeans nodding your head “She seemed to be having trouble crossing the street, so I wanted to help her.” You commented, and he smiled “It’s nice how you took time to help her.”

“That’s what anyone should do.” You replied and turned to Jungwon “And you Jungwonie, where are you going?” He, who had been silent this whole time, looked at you confused “I’m going to the next class...” He commented as if it was an obvious thing that you should know since it was class time.

“Oh, you’re so disciplined Jungwon, I also have a class now, but I think I’ll go out for some ice cream since it’s so hot.” You replied as you stretched slightly “You’re going to ditch class?!” Jungwon widened his eyes in disbelief and you laughed “Relax, it’s an extra class that doesn’t have mandatory attendance.” Jungwon sighed at your response “Still...”

Jake was silently watching the interaction and Jungwon and chuckled when he realized the interesting mood between you two.

“Anyway, I have to go now. See you guys around.” You replied by waving goodbye with your right hand and left in the opposite direction, making Jungwon run his hand through his hair, shaking his head negatively.

“She’s so weird...” He spoke softly, but Jake laughed, putting his arm on Jungwon’s shoulder. “And what was this atmosphere between you two?” His friend asked, moving his eyebrows mischievously.

“What atmosphere?” Jungwon replied, walking ahead and Jake following behind. “Come on man, I could feel the sparks flowing between you two.” His friend said teasingly.

Jungwon sighed, deciding to ignore Jake's comment. "Let's go, I don't want to be late for class."

Jake just smirked and followed Jungwon "Alright sir, I'm coming."

It was late at night when Jungwon was in his room sitting at his desk, making his plan for the next weeks. He separated the curriculum for each subject and organized the subjects by day so he could get ahead and study in advance.

He contently smiled when he finally organized everything in his digital planner and could start to get ahead with all the subjects without stress for the next few days.

As he turned off his laptop, his thoughts were interrupted when his cell phone vibrated on the table and the screen lit up. He was surprised to see that he had received a message from an unknown number at this time of night, since his friends knew that he usually went to bed early.

When he unlocked his phone to check the messages he received, Jungwon couldn't believe what appeared in front of his eyes.

[Unknown] — Good night, Jungwonie.

[Unknown] — Are you awake?

22:31 pm

‘It couldn't be.’

[Jungwon] — How did you get my number?

22:32 pm

Read.

It seemed like an endless cycle, when he thought he was at peace, you appeared out of nowhere taking away all the focus he had.

He stared impatiently at his cell phone, seeing that you'd read the message and hadn't replied, making him anxious. His heart began to beat faster with the fright he got when his cell phone started ringing, and he saw that you were calling him.

Awkwardly he tried to lower the volume of the ringing that broke the silence in his room.

He could ignore you, block you and simply pretend nothing happened, but something inside him couldn't resist the curiosity he felt if he answered. What would be the reason for your call?

He struggled for a few seconds before accepting the call and putting the phone to his ear and hearing your voice on the other end.

"Oh?" You answered Jungwon "I thought you were going to ignore me." Your warm laugh tickled Jungwon's ear. "You didn't answer my question." His voice came out a little more serious than he intended.

"Oh, it was really easy, I asked Jay to give me your number because I wanted to talk to you." The sound of your breathing got louder because the microphone is closer to your mouth.

'Of course it was Jay.' He thought looking at the ceiling.

"So? What do you want to talk about?" Jungwon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, thinking about what would be so important that you would get his number and call him late at night.

"Well, I was feeling so lonely, so I thought about you and decided to call you." Jungwon's cheeks heated up at the way you said it, even though it didn't have the double meaning that crossed his mind.

"So, basically, you just wanted to call to pass the time?" He wanted to confirm his suspicion, and you laughed "That's right!"

"Haa..." He let out a laugh through his nose and you managed to catch it over the phone "You're laughing now, aren't you?" Your voice sounded excited "I can't believe I'm not there to see your smile in person."

Jungwon decided to get up from his chair and go lie down on his bed, ignoring the whirlwind of sensations that always arose every time he interacted with you.

He couldn't understand how you managed to keep him hooked with your unexpected actions. Maybe it was the curiosity he felt about what kind of person you were and why you acted that way.

"You don't make any sense," He replied looking at the ceiling placing his arm over his forehead "shouldn't you go to sleep if you're bored? It's already late."

You laughed, amused by Jungwon's authoritative tone. He was so prudent.

"Jungwon, when I'm bored, I don't sleep, I do something to have fun." He closed his eyes again as he listened to you "And it's not even that late." You replied and he sighed feeling tiredness hit him "For me it is." Jungwon slept early, his sleep was sacred.

"Well then, let's talk until you fall asleep." You said and he thought how weird that was.

Never in his entire life had he stayed on the phone with someone until he fell asleep, this was completely new to him.

"I'm an easy sleeper, so you'll probably be talking to yourself soon." He didn't deny the proposal, but he didn't want to give in so easily. He knew you'd do whatever you wanted anyway.

You chuckled, "Hmm, that's fine by me." The way your voice seemed sweet despite the joking tone made Jungwon wonder how he ended up in this situation.

As you talked about random things and funny stories from your adventures, Jungwon, who was listening intently, felt his eyes grow heavy. He vaguely remembered you talking about running away from the police and how you had a pet rabbit that ran away before falling fast asleep.

"And then he said— Won?" You giggled when you heard his soft breathing on the other end and no response. "Have sweet dreams." You wished him hanging up the call, letting Jungwon rest for now.

Jungwon was coming back from the library when he saw you from afar and started to wonder when your presence started to become normal in his daily life. You started to sit next to him when you had classes together, but now you let him focus better. He was also used to it when you talked to him in the hallways or sent him a picture of something completely random during the week.

Little by little he was no longer scared when you appeared out of nowhere, but despite being so present, you had the gift of mysteriously disappearing, and he realized that he didn't know much about you other than the barbaric stories you told him.

As he walked to the classroom you stopped him in his tracks with a suspicious smile. Jungwon looked at you curiously wondering what you were planning this time.

“Good morning, Jungwonie. Where are you going?” Jungwon looked at you, noticing how different you looked today, wearing a black denim skirt and a white turtleneck while drinking strawberry milk. You looked almost angelic.

“To class, as always.” He replied, taking a step back as you approached him.

“So, I have an idea.” Jungwon eyed you suspiciously “I’m afraid of your ideas.” He replied, making you laugh and pull him by the shirt to speak in a lower tone “Let’s skip class.” You whispered, and Jungwon sighed “Are you out of your mind?” He decided to ignore you and keep walking, but you stopped in front of him again “Hear me out!! It would only be today, and you’re already advanced in the subject. One class wouldn’t be a big deal.”

Jungwon looked up at the lights on the ceiling wondering why he was still listening to you. Clearly you had ideas that involved - not being responsible - with college.

“And what are you planning?” He asked and you smiled seeing that he didn’t deny the idea immediately.

“It’s a surprise.” You grabbed Jungwon’s sleeve and he shook his head “Absolutely not.” He looked at you and noticed that you didn’t have a backpack “You didn’t even come with a backpack? Were you already planning this?”

“Jungwon, I promise it will be fun, pretty pleeease, just for today!” You pulled his hand, and his eyes widened “You won’t fail for missing a single class, you know that.”

He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he debated internally about what to do. If it were the old days, he would have refused and gone to class immediately, but now he was actually debating whether or not to skip class.

Jungwon picked up his cell phone and saw that the next class would be a subject he was good at. “I can only miss the next class, then I have to come back.” He looked back at you, biting his lip anxiously, and you gave him a blinding smile.

“You’re going to love it, Jungwonie!” You intertwined your fingers with his hand and pulled him out of the college, making Jungwon’s heart suddenly race at the contact.

'What the hell am I doing?' He thought in disbelief that he would actually skip class just because you suggested it.

☆

Jungwon stared at you silently, watching you play with a cat on your lap. Apparently, your big idea was to skip class to go to a cat cafe near campus, because according to you, it would be easier for Jungwon to get back to his next class.

It was funny how you showed a new side of yourself every time Jungwon interacted with you. A part of him didn't want to admit it, but he was having fun. The day was peaceful and the cats in the place were super docile.

“Do you like cats?” He asked as a kitten snuggled into his lap. “I never thought much about it, but they’re cute.” You replied seeing how relaxed Jungwon looked.

You looked at him with a side smile, noticing how he looked away. His reactions always amuse you to the extreme. How could he be so cute? Your desire to tease him grew even more.

Jungwon lowered his gaze and stroked the head of the cat that slept on his lap.

“You look like a cat.” You said out of nowhere and he looked at you quickly “A cat? Why?” He asked and you got closer “Because you’re cute and serious.”

Jungwon's cheeks heated up when he saw how you were staring at him. “You know what? I guess I really like cats.” You teased him and laughed, watching as he gave you an awkward smile. His little dimple showed, and you held yourself back from touching his face.

Looking at the time on his phone, Jungwon saw that it was almost time to leave. The kitten that was on his lap woke up, stretched and slowly left, making Jungwon get up.

Jungwon offered his hand so you could stand up, since you were wearing a skirt. You noticed his kind gesture and gave a sincere smile, thinking how considerate he was, even though you disturbed him daily.

“I really enjoyed hanging out with you, Jungwon.” You squeezed his hand and looked into his eyes as you stood up straight. Jungwon nodded, giving you a tight smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, it was nice.” Was all he said before turning to leave the place.

You let go of Jungwon’s hand and followed him in a comfortable walk back to campus. Even though you were silent, Jungwon’s presence alone was extremely comforting, and you had already teased him enough that day.

Deep down, he didn't want to come back to campus, but he wouldn't admit it.

You were finishing washing the cups when you heard the noise of the cafe door opening. Your eyes saw that it was Heeseung arriving late with a smile on his face “Sorry I'm late, thanks for saving me once again.” He commented as you took off your apron and handed it to him.

“You owe me one. This is the fourth time I’ve covered your emergency shift.” You stretched as you watched the night begin to draw in through the cafe window. Every now and then, you would do favors for Heeseung, partly because he was your best friend, but also because he always helped you out when you were in trouble.

“Here, to make it up to you.” You looked at two tickets in Heeseung’s hand “It’s an underground rock band. They’re playing later.” Your friend looked at you mischievously “You can go with Jungwon.” He whispered, making you quickly grab the tickets, seeing the band’s name.

You looked at him suspiciously at the mention of Jungwon's name. Ever since Heeseung saw you laughing on your phone while talking to Jungwon, he never missed an opportunity to tease you.

Even though the time was a little late, you smirked thinking about the vision of going to a concert with Jungwon in the middle of the night.

Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea.

“You’re a genius, Heeseung! Thank you!!” You grabbed your bag and left the place.

☆

Jungwon was in a deep sleep when he woke up to the sound of his cell phone ringing. He rubbed his eyes, trying to read the name on the screen and saw that it was you. 'Of course it's her.' Sliding his finger across the screen, he answered while yawning slightly “Hello?”

“Jungwonieeee, were you sleeping?” Your loud voice made Jungwon move the phone slightly away from his ear “I was.” He turned on the light in the room trying to get rid of the rest of the sleep he had “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your sleep, but I have an invitation to make.”

“What is it?” Jungwon sighed, knowing he wouldn’t escape whatever you were planning.

“Let’s go out now.” You said directly, “My friend Heeseung gave me two tickets for a concert later, we need to go.”

Heeseung? Jungwon turned his head to the side at the mention of the boy. He remembered seeing him before at a few parties, but never interacted with him enough. A strange feeling formed in the pit of Jungwon's stomach, but he decided to ignore it.

“y/n, I should be sleeping.” He sighed, scratching his head as he looked at the schedule. “And we have class tomorrow! It’s still Wednesday.” You laughed at Jungwon’s worried tone.

“No problem, breakfast tomorrow is on me.” Jungwon was silent for a moment. “Is the place far?” He asked, getting out of bed. “Noo, it’s really close.” You cheered up seeing that Jungwon was interested “Come on, it’ll be cool.” Your voice seemed more seductive than usual at that moment.

“Okay, send me the location.” He said and you laughed “Silly, I’m already waiting for you in front of your building.” He widened his eyes and opened the curtain of the bedroom window seeing nothing on the street “I’m just kidding.”

Your laughter made him smile unexpectedly. “You’re impossible.” He headed towards the bathroom, knowing he would have to take a shower and get ready at the last minute.

“I send you the location, byee Jungwonie!!” You hung up, and Jungwon decided to get ready for yet another adventure you got him into.

☆

You were standing outside the bar where the concert would take place when you saw Jungwon arriving. Your eyes widened when you saw how much more handsome he looked than usual. He was wearing a black tank top with dark jeans and a leather jacket that adorned him perfectly.

When he gave a slight smile, running his hand through his hair, you felt a heat rise up your neck. He was so hot.

“Heyy, Jungwonie.” You pushed yourself off the wall and walked towards Jungwon. “So, you really came, huh?”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He stepped closer and you nodded with a small chuckle “Of course.”

He saw the door and stood beside you. “So, shall we go in?” You asked, and he nodded.

The night was just beginning.

The place was surprisingly full, with many people bumping into each other and Jungwon instinctively took your hand so that you wouldn't get lost in the place. The band was finishing adjusting the instruments on stage when you reached a good position to see the stage.

“Are you a fan of this band?” Jungwon asked beside you and you laughed “I’ve never heard of them in my entire life.” Jungwon leaned down slightly to hear you. Your whisper made him bite his lips trying not to laugh.

Going to a rock concert of a band you didn't know on a random Wednesday was so you.

“You're funny.” He spoke lowly, but you heard it anyway. The loud sounds of the instruments made your voices almost inaudible.

As the band began to perform their opening sets, Jungwon was thinking about how crazy this all was. He was at a bar, in the middle of the week, to see a show because you called him.

In a way, in the last few weeks, he had been living a lot more since he met you, but at the same time, it was scary. It was distant from everything he had planned, and it made him wary.

You were like a breeze that suddenly appeared when the sun was too hot, but at the same time disappeared just as quickly. Even though you had built a kind of friendship, he still wanted to know your dreams, more of your story... he simply wanted to know more about you.

His train of thought was interrupted when he saw that the place started to get crowded, and some guys started pushing you. Instinctively, he stood behind you, giving the rude guys a deadly glare.

You could tell he wanted to protect you, but he was too shy to touch you. His hands were in the air around you, and you smiled, pulling his hands to your waist. Jungwon was caught off guard, seeing you turn slightly to say something, “What a gentleman...” Your smile distracted Jungwon “That’s better.” He nodded, feeling his ears heat up.

When the show started, you didn't talk much, but you laughed a lot because you took the opportunity to scream when everyone else screamed and clapped madly at the end of each song. Jungwon would pull you into his chest occasionally when he saw that someone wanted to cross in front of you and you knew you made the right decision to invite him out.

☆

When the concert ended, Jungwon thought that he wanted to enjoy it more. As much as it was fun, you couldn't talk much because of the volume of the instruments.

“So Jungwonie, did you like it?” You asked as you walked down the street with him. “I liked it. It was very different from the concerts I’ve been to before.” Jungwon put his hands in his pants pockets as you both went to a part of the city that didn’t have many people at that time.

You walked up some steps that led to a small park that had a beautiful view of a part of the city. The place was empty, and Jungwon sat next to you on a small bench there.

“You know, I really admire you Jungwon.” You confessed as you looked at the moon that it looked particularly beautiful that night. “Why?” He asked curiously.

“You seem to have everything in order. You’re always so organized, I bet you have everything planned.” He looked at you intently. This time you were being sincere, as if you wanted to vent about something. “In a way, yes, but it requires a lot of sacrifices, so it’s not that simple.” Jungwon sighed, knowing all the daily sacrifices he makes for his goals.

“I wish I was like that,” You gave a sad smile. “It’s like I can’t follow through on the goals I set for myself.” Jungwon was silent for a moment, thinking about what to say. “I know we’re very different, but everyone has felt lost at some point in their lives.” You looked at him, seeing how kind his expression was. “Until you find your focus, it’s okay to fail and try again.”

You looked away, feeling your eyes water slightly. Maybe you just needed to hear that.

“And personally speaking,” He cleared his throat, “I also wish I could be a little freer like you, but it’s not easy for me.” You looked at him in surprise. Jungwon didn’t seem like the type of person to say something like that directly. “I like being disciplined, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to go out for a few days.” He gave a wry smile, scratching the back of his neck, and you laughed.

“Well, I told you it would be cool.” You laughed, standing up from the bench. “You’re actually a pretty nice guy, Jungwon.” Your gaze lingered on Jungwon’s figure who looked like an angel under the moonlight. “I hope you don’t change.”

Jungwon gave a cute smile that made you want to hug him “I promise I won’t.” He replied, standing up too “Now let’s go, because tomorrow you’ll pay for breakfast.” He went ahead and you laughed “Hey! Wait for me!”

And so, you had a peaceful walk back to the dorm in a wonderful mood that you both didn't want to end.

Jungwon didn't know how you ended up in his room, but you were there.

You looked around the room, analyzing each decoration and Jungwon felt aware of your presence. Everything was meticulously organized just as you expected.

Jungwon wasn't one to have a lot of things. He was a believer in necessary minimalism. His desk had only a few notebooks and books neatly stacked, a simple closet, and his bed had a dark blue sheet neatly folded.

His room was very clean, and you smiled seeing how he had a small frame with a family photo and some keychains next to it.

"Your room is nice..." You turned to Jungwon seeing how tense he looked. "It's just like you." He gave an awkward smile and looked away. "It's pretty plain, but I like it."

You approached slowly with your hands behind your back "Jungwon, I'm curious..." Jungwon looked at you, feeling his stomach churn "About what?"

Your gaze was firmly fixed on the boy who had rosy cheeks watching every step you took.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Jungwon almost choked on your question as you ran your fingers down his shirt. “Be honest.”

He swallowed hard and looked away, "Y-Yes." You smiled, grabbing his chin and turning his gaze back to you, "You know, Jungwon, you're so cute." He took a step back and you got even closer.

"I like that." Your hands touched Jungwon's chest, who felt the back of his calf touch his bed. He walked backwards so much that he ended up sitting on his own bed, seeing you in front of him with an amused smile.

Your makeup was beautiful, your cheeks were flushed and your lips looked softer than usual. Jungwon couldn't speak at the sight, his heart racing at the way you bent down to be in his line of sight.

Jungwon was sweating, feeling a sudden heat rise through his body. He moved away slightly, leaning on his hands, unable to say a word.

This was wrong. He wasn't the kind of guy to take girls to his room, but he couldn't resist you. He knew he should probably be nice and find a way to get you out safely, but he couldn't say a word.

Not when you were climbing on top of him without any warning. Jungwon's breath hitched as you ran your hands down his chest, your face close to his.

He looked away and you giggled. "Have you done this before?" Jungwon felt a shiver run through his body when he heard your voice whispering in his ear. "Yes." He spoke quickly and you arched an eyebrow. What a surprise.

You chuckled, your breath fanning his face. You pulled his face up by his chin to face him, your thumb going up to Jungwon's mouth. “You have pretty lips." You whispered as you slid your finger across his bottom lip. "You too." He replied, staring at you.

You were surprised by his answer and gave a mischievous smile. Jungwon gasped when he felt your full weight on his lap, his heart was beating so hard with so much nervousness that he could only swallow dryly waiting for your next steps.

Your left hand was holding his shoulder, and you had such a deep gaze that he felt hypnotized. He would do anything you wanted if you kept looking at him like that.

With both hands you pushed his coat back, taking it off. He threw the coat to another corner while you noticed how red his ears were.

"Jungwonie," you called out to him and he looked at you eagerly "do you want to touch me?" Your question made Jungwon feel butterflies in his stomach. If you could read his mind you would know that was all he could think about right now.

"Yes." He sighed, closing his eyes as he felt your lips place a kiss on the corner of his neck.

Your hands pulled his hands to your hips. “You can.” He tentatively moved his hands from your hips to your waist, swallowing hard when you moved closer.

Your hands touched his cheeks, bringing his face closer to yours. He looked into your eyes, and you smiled, touching your noses. You were so close he couldn't think straight. Your breath mingled with his as you closed the distance and kissed him.

Jungwon felt the world stop with the movement of your lips on his. A soft, delicate kiss making him tighten your waist. You moved your hands to his hair, making him more desperate.

He brought your body closer to his and you smiled into the kiss, his cheeks redder than usual. He brought his face closer to yours again and you pulled away, teasing him.

He was so hot when he looked desperate.

"Easy, I'm not going anywhere." You replied and he felt slightly embarrassed, but that soon passed when you kissed him again, your hands going up under his shirt.

His breath hitched as he felt the touch of your fingers on his skin. His arm wrapped around you completely, the kiss becoming more desperate.

He pulled away to kiss your neck but was interrupted by a loud noise.

— BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP —

Jungwon's eyes widened as he woke up suddenly, his chest rising and falling in shock from the alarm as he stared at the ceiling of his own room. He was dreaming. It wasn't real.

He sat up in bed and ran his hand over his sweaty forehead. His entire body felt hot with the shame he was feeling at that moment.

A feeling of guilt invaded his chest. How could he dream things like that? Especially about you. His fingertips touched his own mouth thinking about how everything seemed so real. He couldn't forget.

The headache from sleeping so little seemed unbearable as he tried to adjust to the brightness of the room. He pulled off his own sheet, throwing it to the side, trying to get up.

He had to face the reality that it wasn't real, and he would need to see you and pretend to be normal. He looked at his watch and broke out in a cold sweat when he remembered that you are going to have coffee together that morning.

'Great.' He thought indignantly to himself.

☆

After he got ready to go out, he looked in the mirror and realized how bad he looked. Dark circles under his eyes and his excitement on the floor.

He didn't know how to forget his dream, and much less how he would face you that morning. He sent you a message asking where you were. Maybe it would be better for him to ignore everything he dreamed and continue like nothing happened.

He walked into the campus and was greeted by Jake who looked at him confused "Man, you alright?" He noticed how Jungwon looked more dejected than usual.

"Just a rough night." He sighed, picking up his phone and seeing that you still hadn't responded to his message.

"You should take care of yourself, the heat is terrible. I heard that two people fainted today because of it." He commented and Jungwon nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." He replied "By the way, have you seen y/n? I texted her earlier and she hasn't responded yet." Jungwon asked and Jake shook his head "I don't know, but you can ask her best friend." Jake looked back and pointed down the path "I just passed him, it was a boy in a red shirt and black pants, I think you know him, it’s Heeseung."

"Thanks, see you around." Jungwon left first and Jake smiled seeing how this time it was him who was looking for you, and not the other way around.

As Jungwon walked down the hallway looking for Heeseung, a part of him felt pathetic. He didn't understand why he seemed so desperate to find you, you could be busy and then you would answer, but he felt like he needed to see you.

He made a small run touching your best friend's shoulder who looked at him curiously. Heeseung recognized him instantly "You're Heeseung, right?" He asked worriedly and the boy smiled gently "Yes, and you're Jungwon, Jay's friend. I remember you." Jungwon just nodded before asking what he really wanted to know "Do you know where y/n is? I texted her and she didn't respond so I got worried."

Heeseung widened his eyes, understanding the situation. "Dude, didn't you hear?" Jungwon felt his heart tighten at Heeseung's tone. "What?" Heeseung sighed. "She fainted because of the heat. She's in the campus infirmary, I'm coming back from there."

Jungwon felt all the color drain from his face when he heard the news. You? Fainted? You, who has so much energy and never sit still?

“Where is the infirmary? I need to go now." He despaired and Heeseung grabbed his shoulder "Calm down, otherwise you'll be the next one to faint if you act like this." Jungwon let out the air he didn't know he was holding. All the worries he felt before disappeared because you were all that mattered right now.

"I'll take you there." Heeseung lightly squeezed Jungwon's shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

"Is she okay?" Jungwon asked on the way and Heeseung nodded. "Yeah, she was taking a nap when I went there. She must have been tired."

Jungwon felt a little more relieved, but he still wanted to see you with his own eyes. Heeseung took him to the place, leaving him at the entrance. "I need to go now, take good care of her." He said and Jungwon thanked him for his help. "Of course, thanks for showing me the way."

Heeseung gave Jungwon a friendly smile, "It's okay brother, don't worry." He replied and Jungwon felt a pang of guilt for harboring strange feelings towards Heeseung who seemed like a nice guy.

He said goodbye and Jungwon entered the infirmary looking for you. His eyes searched the area until he saw you lying on the bed with your eyes closed and sleeping peacefully. He carefully approached and sat down on the chair next to your bed.

He wouldn't leave until you woke up.

While you were sleeping, he noticed how long your eyelashes were and how relaxed your eyebrows looked when you slept. How angelic your face looked when you were expressionless.

He brushed a few strands of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Your cheeks were slightly pale, perhaps from the weakness.

He looked around and saw that there was no food or water there, so he left his bag on the chair and went to buy some supplies from the machine outside the room. When he came back you seemed to have shifted position, your arm gently hugging the sheet.

He side smiled at how cute you were sleeping and started to think about how he ended up in this situation. You were just a strange girl he met at a party but now became important to the point where he watched you sleep in an infirmary ward.

Your presence was already part of Jungwon's life and he couldn't ignore it. His fingers lightly caressed your cheeks, warming the place.

Jungwon couldn't deny it, you were important to him.

When you started to move, he retracted his hand and looked at you curiously. You blinked your eyes slightly, stretching. Your gaze scanned the room, realizing it was the infirmary and finally noticing Jungwon's presence by your side.

"Jungwon?" You asked confused looking around "Why am I here?" Your head hurt a little and Jungwon made you lie down again.

"You fainted from the heat, you should stay here, rest and hydrate yourself." He said as he adjusted the pillow for you.

You searched your mind for your last memory and remembered that you had arrived at the campus gate before everything went dark out of nowhere. Jungwon looked at you intently, his shy persona being replaced by his comforting presence by your side.

"We were supposed to have coffee together." You mumbled sadly as you looked at him. Jungwon gave the first smile of the day, lightly caressing your forehead. "Your health is more important. We have all the time in the world for that." He answered gently and you felt your heart melt at that.

Jungwon looked even more handsome today. His presence was like an anchor you could rely on. He brought you unparalleled peace.

"You need to hydrate." He handed you a bottle of water so you could drink. "Okay." You replied, drinking the water and trying to relax. Your gaze fell on Jungwon who was staring at you, and you looked away, feeling self-conscious.

"You need to go to class." Jungwon snickered at your comment "I'm not leaving here." He replied taking the bottle back and giving you a cupcake so you could eat.

You gave Jungwon a mischievous look. “Oh? Jungwonie is going to skip class to take care of me?” You chuckled “I’m honored.”

He touched your cheek and smiled, "Looks like you're feeling better already." He commented and you nodded "Yes! Thanks to you Jungwonie, thank you very much."

"You're welcome." He saw how happy you looked and remembered the dream he had earlier. He looked away, feeling his heart suddenly race.

This was not a good time to remember that.

"I'll recover and I promise we'll have breakfast." Your voice was softer as you lay back down on the bed, closing your eyes as tiredness took over.

"Then recover quickly." Jungwon said smiling seeing how comfortable you looked to try to sleep again in front of him "Sweet dreams."

He let you rest while he played with his phone. As long as you were okay, nothing else mattered.

After you had fully recovered, Jungwon bombarded you with messages daily reminding you to eat regularly, sleep at the right times, and prioritize your health.

Since he was attentive and helped you over the past few days, you suggested camping with Jungwon over the weekend as a way of saying thank you.

You rented a car and bought a tent so you could enjoy the nice weather. While researching perfect camping spots, you found a great one that wasn't too far away, wasn't too crowded, and had a beautiful setting.

Jungwon was initially worried. Apparently, he wanted to avoid any scenario that could be dangerous for you, but you assured him that you were already recovered, and it would be fine.

Reluctantly he accepted, and now you were at the site setting up the tent until you noticed that the weather seemed cloudier than usual.

"The breeze is great." Jungwon said as he took a sip of water and rested after holding the heavy irons at the base of the tent.

"At least that." You replied, closing the tent's zipper and seeing that it had turned out great "It turned out perfect, we'll be able to enjoy it a lot."

Jungwon smiled "Yes. By the way, when are we going to set up the other tent?" He asked and you looked at him confused "There is no other tent."

The silence that hung in the air was embarrassing.

Jungwon was speechless and you began to realize that since you only bought one tent you would probably have to sleep in it together. His cheeks turned slightly pink and Jungwon cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood "I can sleep in the car, no problem."

"No way." You turned around and replied immediately "You did all the work, you're not going to sleep on the hard car seat."

Jungwon sighed at your stubbornness "y/n, I won't let you sleep in the car either." You gave him a smirk "Then let's sleep together."

Another silence filled the air.

Jungwon felt his throat close up, memories of the dream he had reappearing in his mind.

"It's fine with me, if you want..." Your voice sounded slightly hesitant, a little embarrassed. Something new for Jungwon, considering you always seemed confident.

"Are you sure?" He asked, looking at you. "Absolutely." You returned his gaze and answered honestly.

He knew that there was no going back on this decision, so he accepted the consequences that would probably come from it.

"Come on Jungwon, the day is beautiful, and I saw that there is a small river there where we can take some pictures." You opened the tent and went out first, changing the subject.

He gave a smile, following you. “Show me then.”

You two walked around the place and realized that you were the only ones there. A small river ran through the place making the landscape even more beautiful.

"Jungwon, take some pictures of me." You said laughing as you posed holding your summer dress. He smiled as he recorded everything.

"Go a little to the left." He directed you and you smiled as if it were a professional photoshoot "Jungwon come too."

He walked over to your side and you pulled him closer so you could take a selfie. He smiled wider, showing off his dimple, and you put your faces together for a cute photo.

You swiped your finger on the screen looking at the pictures, feeling happy with the interaction while Jungwon looked at you from the corner of his eye. He couldn't ignore how much more beautiful you looked today.

Your loose hair and red dress matched perfectly. He stared at you, feeling butterflies in his stomach that were impossible to ignore.

He knew what that meant: he liked you. Not just a simple liking but liking you to the point of accepting any crazy idea you suggested, doing whatever it took to make you happy.

He was completely in love with you, and he couldn't deny it anymore.

"Jungwon, I loved these photos, let's try some with the phone horizontally." You said and he smiled taking the phone from your hand "Sure, whatever you want."

You smiled at his response as you took more pictures near the riverbank.

☆

Jungwon went to get some snacks from the tent while you dipped a part of your feet in the river. He came back smiling holding some snacks and you got excited.

"Oh, that looks good." You saw a sweet pepero and cheered. "I knew you'd want some candy." Jungwon commented and you smirked. "You know me so well, Jungwonie."

He smiled as he handed you the pepero, but before you could enjoy the snacks, the sound of thunder startled you and a sudden rain began to fall on the two of you.

Jungwon took your hand as you ran back to the tent when the rain suddenly got heavier. You went in first and Jungwon followed right behind you, zipping up the tent. The rain was so heavy that you were amazed at how strong the tent was.

"I didn't expect it to rain today." You commented, putting the snacks away in a container in the corner.

"Me neither." Jungwon turned to you and took off the light coat he was wearing to place on your shoulders. You looked wetter than him, maybe because you were wearing a dress.

"Here, so you don't get cold." He said and you looked at him. "I'll try to get a towel from the car." You held his arm. "No, the rain is too heavy. It's better to wait." Your gaze and Jungwon's met and a silence hung in the air.

Jungwon’s hair was wet, his bangs were plastered to his forehead, and his shirt was slightly see-through. You couldn’t help but check him out.

He noticed your gaze and felt his heart suddenly race.

Just like in his dream, you approached him. Jungwon felt an unsettling sensation run through his body seeing how your eyes were looking at him with such tenderness.

“I’m not cold.” Jungwon swallowed hard as you took off his coat, letting it fall onto the mattress beneath you. He was paralyzed, as if he didn’t know what to say, enchanted by your gaze.

Jungwon's right hand touched your cheek, removing the small droplets of water that were there. "Are you sure?" His gentle tone made your stomach flutter. "Yes." You smiled, realizing that he kept his hand there on your face. His thumb made circles on your skin, an act that showed affection on his part.

He looked deep into your eyes and in an impulse, Jungwon lowered his hand to the corner of your neck and closed the distance, giving you a sweeping kiss. All the rest of his consciousness faded away when you pulled him by his shirt, running your hands through his soft black hair.

Your back hit the soft mattress as Jungwon climbed on top of you. The kiss was desperate, his hands roaming your body. Jungwon groaned into your mouth when you pulled the hair on the back of his head, making you smirk in the middle of the kiss.

When his hands went up your legs, you pulled away to breathe, Jungwon's mouth devouring your neck making you gasp. "J-Jungwon." You whispered, closing your eyes and he brought his face close to yours, looking into your eyes. For a moment he realized what he was doing and swallowed hard.

He wanted to say he regretted it, but the way your eyelashes adorned your eyes as you looked at him, your flushed cheeks and how the fabric of your dress seemed like a huge impediment to his hands made him sure he didn't want to stop.

“I’m sorry.” His lips brushed gently against yours. “I couldn’t help myself.” His fingers lightly squeezed the skin of your thighs and you smiled. “It’s okay, I want it too.” You responded by giving him a long peck.

He observed every detail of your face. Your eyes, your nose, your mouth, the line of your jaw, your collarbone that was now completely exposed. You were completely beautiful, and he could no longer contain the feelings that invaded his chest “y/n,” He whispered giving you a soft kiss “I like you.” He was the first to confess and you smiled entwining his hair between your fingers “I like you too, Jungwonie.”

He laughed at the nickname and kissed you slowly. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him towards you as you felt him deepen the kiss with his tongue. Jungwon could only think about how he would enjoy this moment as if it were the last time.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, trailing kisses down your jawline. “You drive me crazy.” You moaned as you felt his lips on your neck. You just nodded desperately and felt your breath catch in your throat as he moved his hands up from your thighs to your back, under your dress.

“Jungwon.” You moaned his name involuntarily as he lifted the fabric of your red dress. He liked it when you called his name like that, as if you were desperate for something more.

The raindrops fell harder on the tent's material as you pulled Jungwon's shirt up, touching Jungwon's abdomen. You were surprised to feel how toned and soft it was. Jungwon's moan was swallowed by your mouth in the desperate kiss you gave him, your hands exploring his arms and back.

“Damn I really like you, like,” He started to say as he wrapped his arms around you tighter “I'm truly madly deeply in love with you.” Your stomach turned at his confession and how he kissed your collarbone. He moved his kisses up your neck making you see stars in the air.

“I don’t want to stop.” He confessed before kissing below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then don’t stop.” You replied as you felt the soft skin of his abdomen with your fingertips “Please.”

You looked at him like you had been asking for this for a long time. You gave him an obscene smile that made him want to sink you even deeper into the tent mattress and never come back to the surface again.

Jungwon's strong hands that once explored every skin on your body lifted all the fabric of your dress and you helped him take off his shirt. Every contact with Jungwon's skin lit a spark between you.

“You’re beautiful.” He pulled your face up by your cheeks and moved his hand down to your neck, his thumb gently caressing your throat as you tried to breathe since you were completely out of breath. “Please be mine.” He whispered against your lips “I already am.” You replied and he smiled before enveloping you in a completely passionate kiss.

☆

Jungwon hugged you while stroking your hair. You drew random patterns on his cheek thinking about everything that had happened.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You broke the silence by laughing “I was surprised when you kissed me, but I loved it.” Jungwon looked at you carefully thinking how beautiful you looked in his arms “I couldn’t resist.” He replied and you kissed his cheek.

“And to think that before you could barely look at me.” He smiled “You were impossible.” The way he looked at you made you feel so many feelings at the same time that you were speechless. You had never liked anyone the way you liked Jungwon, and this was new to you.

“I’m looking forward to seeing more sides of you, Jungwon.” You whispered, giving Jungwon a kiss. “You’re like a box of surprises.” He pulled you closer. “And I’ll show you everything you want to see.” The sound of the rain being the perfect soundtrack for the cozy moment between you.

Jungwon had to admit: Jake was right. There were sparks between you two after all.

2K notes · View notes

slutofpsh · 10 months ago

Text

strip for me.

part four

pairings: hyungline x reader

synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.

wc: 8.4k

warnings: heavy smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. this is not proof read.

note: this is not the end for strip for me so calm down. we have more to come. the next part will be heeseung’s solo part. anyway, i know it took time so please enjoy it. reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. this is not proof read so excuse the errors for now. let me know your thoughts by sending me asks. thank you so much.

part one; two; three

“we’re going to have so much fun...” jake stated meaningfully before winking at you.

your steps halt from approaching the chair they reserved for you. their eyes are fully focused that despite the teacher’s continuous rambling about the project, they don’t give her any attention.

“you can sit here, doll.” and sunghoon drags the chair near him then taps it once before flashing you a soft smile, his fangs showing.

“what happened to the uniform i lend you?” he sounds a little upset while looking at your fresh polo. heeseung got you a new one that fits you perfectly.

you blushed, “i p-put it on my locker. i will wash it first then give it back to you. thank you for let me borrow it.”

he smirks, “nah, you can keep it.”

jake and jay stared at him with confusion. they can clearly remember how bad his mood was these past few days, now he’s acting like as if he’s the happiest man that walked on earth. it’s just so odd.

you obliged and sat beside sunghoon while he stare at you, eyes almost forming heart. heeseung scoffs and took off his coat then placed it on your lap since you’re wearing a skirt. a bit too short from his liking, to be specific.

with blushing cheeks, you thanked him silently.

“did i miss anything?” jake asks, confused.

jay furrowed his brows and stared at his two other friends. heeseung met his eyes and cleared his throat before sitting straight. sunghoon seemed unbothered, eyes still fixed at you with a grin on his handsome face.

“w-why?” you asked him, feeling slightly uneasy because of how he’s not taking his eyes off from you.

“nothing, you look pretty.” he mumbled so naturally before dragging your chair even closer. he did it with so much ease, he’s so strong.

you glanced away, trying hard to ignore his heated gaze. jake’s watching all of these with his two eyes without blinking. a hint of confusion and a mix of jealousy flickers inside him.

“the fuck is going on?” he stated with so much sarcasm.

if jay can shut his mouth and ignore it, well definitely not jake. he has a lot of questions inside his mind. why are his friends acting like this? and most of all, why the fuck aren’t you like that to him?

“let’s just discuss the project.” heeseung blurted out, blocking any chances to be asked by jake.

he was about to complain more, wanting to dig about this situation deeper, but stopped himself. with clenched jaw, he rests his back on his chair then glanced at your lowered head.

he scoffed, “sweetheart, i’m a little jealous. you need to make it up to me.” he stated that made your cheeks blush, ears turning red.

sunghoon rolls his eyes and impatiently taps the table, “let’s start!”

and with that, heeseung then discusses the possible topics you can research for this project. your mouth slightly gaps at how he was able to keep up with what the teacher was saying when you clearly saw him focusing on you moments ago.

it went on, its just jay who listens and you, slightly. jake and sunghoon didn’t even tries to act that they are serious to this project, one plays through his phone, the other had his head slumped over the desk. sunghoon’s hand lays on yours casually, its been like that ever since he lowered his head to sleep.

jake whined when he loses the round and glances at your direction. he smirks and winks at you which made you blush. he giggles and eyes unconsciously landed on sunghoon’s hand.

his smirk faltered and childishly removes it. jay notices and scoffed before writing down on his notes. jake then grabs your hand to intertwin your fingers together, a satisfied smile plastering his handsome face.

heeseung rolls his eyes at it then continued talking about the project that the other two boys obviously doesn’t care about.

“we’ll be doing our project on our house later.” heeseung said as a last statement to wrap your small meeting.

your head perks and back straightened at what he just said. his eyes caught you right away, attentive of you.

“can we just d-do it here at school?” you suggested since doing it on their house doesn’t sit right for you.

one of his eyebrow arches upwards, “do you have any problem doing it in mine?” he asks using a serious tone.

your lips slightly trembles and glances at jake on your side when he gradually took your hand on his lips to place a gentle kiss.

“u-uhm, i can’t go h-home late. my mom will be so worried.” you tried to reason out.

it was partly true as she was used of you coming home early. heeseung’s house is pretty far from your school and so it will take time to go home. besides, you have no problem asking your mom to pick you up by the school gate, but it will definitely raise curiosity if you suddenly ask her to pick you up at a random house.

his head tilts, “leave that one to me.” he stated and then stood up to leave the circle.

“b-but—” you are held down by jake, yanking your arms to prevent you from standing up and follow heeseung.

jay stood up then taps sunghoon on the shoulder to wake him up.

“no buts, sweetheart.” and jake leans to give you a swift kiss on the cheek then leave as well.

your eyes widen and roamed around to check if somebody saw. they’re pretty busy discussing about the project, seems like your group was the first one to finish.

a large hand resting at the small of your back is what snaps you back to your senses. he gently caress it up and down then you look over your shoulder to face sunghoon.

his eyes squints a bit, obvious that he just got awoken from a nap. “something wrong?” he asks.

you shake your head lightly and he just stares for a while before nodding his head. he stood up and guided you to go back to your chair as well.

the period ended and after the whole class thanked the teacher and bid her good-bye, she walks out of the room. after feeling the need to use the bathroom, you headed out as well.

jake’s eyes follows you and when you’re out of his sight already, he swat sunghoon’s shoulder.

“the fuck is your problem?” he hissed at him, his brows drawned closer to each other and he sets his phone down like he’s ready to punch jake right away.

“my problem? what is your problem?” jake hisses back. “why are you suddenly acting like a fucking loser in front of y/n?”

jay smirks and just listens. heeseung watches too, a ghost of a smile playing over his lips.

sunghoon’s forehead slowly loses it crease then he acts innocent before glancing back at his phone. jake almost threw his notebook at him. he can’t believe it was that fast to calm him down. by the mere mention of your name.

“what do you mean? no i’m not.”

“here you go, baby. you can sit here, doll.” jake mimics him exaggeratedly. jay laughs at how he mirrored sunghoon while the latter clenches his jaw.

it was his turn to push jake’s shoulder. “i don’t talk that way!” he says, defensive.

“you actually do, dude.” jay fires back while heeseung just laughs because of it.

“whatever.” he mumbled, ears turning red.

jake rolls his eyes, “what the fuck happened? i thought we will punish her?” and his gaze moves from sunghoon towards heeseung.

heeseung straightens his back and glances away, totally guilty of it. jake just couldn’t believe it. these two were the ones so heated up when one of their classmates reported you meeting beomgyu up at the end aisles of the library. they were so hyped up on punishing you and then they’re acting like this?

“i fucking resisted dicking her down, man!” jake complained.

“nobody told you to do that.” heeseung shrugs his shoulder off that made jake clench his jaw, pissed off.

well, the older one was right. they never agreed on anything but to imply punishment. but that was jake’s punishment for you. that was his way to let you know that he’s mad and upset. you always knew how much he couldn’t get enough of you and how he would bury his dick inside you any chances he gets.

“jake’s right. i declined her orgasms to make a point.” jay stated, looking a bit upset as well.

the boys glances at him with furrow brows, “you did what?” jake asks in disbelief.

jay shrugs his shoulder, “you know how much i love seeing her get off. its always her pleasure over mine. i needed to send her a message.”

heeseung sighs and sunghoon was so ready to hold his collar right there and then.

“dude what the fuck? she must’ve felt so frustrated and bad!” he hissed at his friend.

now, jake’s pissed off eyes darted back at him. he pushes his friend to sit back properly.

“calm down lover boy, i’m not yet done with you.” he fired at him.

sunghoon lets out a strained sigh, completely done with jake targeting him nonstop.

“come on, i lost control too you know? but what am i suppose to do when she said she’s sorry? of course i couldn’t help it.” sunghoon ranted that made the three boys around him furrow their brows.

the frown on jake’s face deepens as jay and heeseung slightly loses their minds. they contemplates and wonders if they heard that right.

“what did you say?” heeseung fires at sunghoon that made him confused. the other two boys kept their mouth shut, jaw clenched.

“she said sorry.”

they were silenced when sunghoon repeated it for them to hear it clearly. jake was the first one to react as he scoffed and heaved a sigh to calm himself down.

“that’s it, you’ll be the last one to fuck her later.” jake stated, a bit (totally) pissed.

sunghoon thick brows furrowed now, “what? that’s unfair! when did we decided that?” his head cranes to the oldest, trying to gain alliance. after-all, heeseung is in charge of equality and fairness.

but to his surprise, the older one has his brows hardly furrowed as well. his eyes looking serious and are piercing right at him.

“i agree with jake.” jay says casually that made sunghoon complain even more.

“hyung?” sunghoon calls out heeseung because this is the perfect timing to step in and break this shit going on.

“sunghoon will be the last one to touch her then?”

to his dismay, its suddenly apppointed that he will sit back and watch while his three friends devour you. it will be torturous, but its better that than not having you later. he curses and just slumped his head over the table to distract himself with a good nap.

“fucking fuck.” jake curses, still pissed.

jay claps his shoulder, “calm down. i’m afraid you’ll piss your pants sooner or later.” he joked that only made him even more pissed.

he pushes his hands away, “shut up. i’ll surely get even later with y/n. she can’t do that.”

“hey, don’t be too carried away. you’ll scare her.” jay warns him before glancing to the older guy, “right, hyung?”

heeseung was silent before he lets out a heavy sigh. “no, i agree with jake.” he shut his eyes and massages his temple a bit.

“we need to teach her a lesson. she can’t have her favorite or it will ruin us all.”

on the other hand, you’re inside the girl’s bathroom and washing your hands when (name) walks in together with her minions. she’s one of the popular girls in your class. very pretty and rich.

her mean eyes darted right at you. it screams danger so you glanced away from her and just focuses on your hand.

she walks closer and stopped beside you.

“who can expect that the quiet girl in class can be such a cunt?” her words made your brows furrow.

“excuse me?” you’re taken aback with how aggressive she is. it was so unexpected. she never approaches or talk to you then suddenly she’s going in this hard?

the response obviously made her even more mad. she raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. one glance to her minions and they went on both of your sides, cornering you. they’re giggling like hyenas.

“ooh, look at you acting all brave just because you think those boys are interested in you?” the bitterness lingers over your tone.

your brows narrowed in confusion as to what she’s talking about. you wondered more, then realization finally hits you like a big truck. boys... heeseung and his friends?

you glanced at her, “i don’t know what you m-mean.”

oh no. you stuttered. and that only mean one thing. that you’re lying and you know you are. because you out of all people, knows what she means.

you thought you’re being slick on hiding what’s going on between you and those boys, but definitely you’re wrong. you couldn’t help, but to blame it on them as they’re the ones being so bold about it. also because they’re really the one should be blame for it.

she lets out a loud sarcastic laugh, her eyes oozing with anger. she pushes your shoulder off. “oh fuck you! i’m not dumb!”

you shut your eyes and was about to walk away when her minions hold you down.

“let me go!” you tried squirming, freeing yourself which you failed miserably.

one of them curses at you and even elbowed your side. you grunted and folds because of the pain. (name) then walks closer and yanked your arm so you can face her.

“bitch! whore!” and she started to be physical, slapping you left and right.

“p-please, stop...” you begged which they ignored completely. she just continued hurting you and her friends hold you to prevent any resistance.

“you think they really like you? think again bitch!” she pulls your hair hardly making you face upwards. when your tear stained eyes met her arrogant ones, she smirks.

“for them you’re just a toy they will play with until they’re sick and tired of you.” and after that one last sentence she pushed you hard to the floor.

her friends laughed so hard while you have yourself slumped across the cold concrete. tears streaming down your face.

“let’s go girls. let’s leave that slut alone.”

you cried, feeling your face hurting and some other places in your body. but that’s not what causing your tears to flow nonstop. its what (name) said that had a big blow on you.

what she says was partly right. you have no idea what those boys want from you and base on how they treats you is similar to what she implied. a toy. that’s all you are for them. and that hurts you so much.

“y/n...” you snapped back to reality when you heard a faint call on your name.

“h-huh?” when you lift your head, you’re met with jay’s furrowed brows. his eyes scanning yours with gentle look on it.

heeseung stands a few feet away with jake. your hand sways that caught your attention, even before you can glance at the side, sunghoon’s face came into your view.

his brows folded in a worried way, “are you all right, doll?” and you can feel him squeeze your hand slightly.

“y-yes.”

he pursed his lips and scanned his eyes over your pretty face. his other free hand have your things. jake shows a displeased expression then walked towards your direction.

“give her some space. you’re crowding her.” he says, interrupting and even pushed sunghoon away from you.

hoon’s hand detached from holding yours that pissed him off a little. his eyes shooting glares at jake when he grab your wrist and started guiding you towards the car that just parked beside heeseung.

heeseung opened the door to the passenger seat when you’re near enough. he tilt his head asking you to enter his car. you glanced at his serious eyes, hands fidgets.

“my m-mom... she still doesn’t know—”

“don’t worry too much about it, angel. i already talked to her.” he stated in a lazy tone.

your mouth slightly gaps, doesn’t really want to believe him right away. you knew your mom. she’s a little bit strict when it comes to you hanging out a bit too late of your curfew at home.

“r-really?”

heeseung stares at your eyes before letting out a sigh. he fished his phone out from his pocket then dialled someone. he tapped the speaker on and eventually you heard the sound of somebody answering the phone.

“heeseung-ah?”

your eyes widen at the familiar voice errupting from the other line. heeseung handed you the phone so you can talk to her.

“m-mom..”

“y/n? darling, heeseung called me and told me that you’ll be staying late in their house for a group project?” she continuously said. you can tell base of the tone of her voice that she’s thrilled about you having friends.

“y-yes.”

“well, he’s such a nice boy. very polite as well and such a sweetheart for calling me himself to inform me about this project.” she blabbers nonstop. your cheeks blushed while feeling a bit embarrassed about it.

jake rolls his eyes as he throw his things inside his own car parked near heeseung’s. jay went to his and rest on it while waiting patiently. sunghoon hangs both of the straps of your bag on his shoulder before he gets on his big bike, holding his helmet on his free hand.

“u-uh, yes. he’s the president of the student council.” you answered while eyeing heeseung whose leaning on his car, near you. his hand rests at the open door for you.

“that’s great! he also told me that he’ll take you home later after it so i don’t have to worry.” she added.

eventually, she bids goodbye and so you did. your stares stayed at his phone before you handed it back to heeseung. he tilts his head again, asking you to enter his vehicle. without having any choice, you obliged.

you realized that no matter how hard you try to escape, there’s no getting away from them. they have control on everything and that’s what scares you the most. how smoothly they do these things and manipulate you on doing whatever that they all want. just like what (name) said. you’re like their toy.

“seatbelt, angel.” heeseung snaps you out of your own thoughts.

you nodded and grabbed over the safety strap on your side. your eyes caught sunghoon getting on his big motorbike and attractively putting his helment on for safety. you blushed unconsciously seeing your bag hangs on his broad shoulders and placed in front of him.

it looked totally out of place on how his all black motorbike and dark blue uniform mixed with your light colored school bag. it looked so feminine that you can already tell it doesn’t belong to the fine man.

his head cranes over to your side and even if heeseung’s car is heavily tinted and if sunghoon’s wearing a helmet, it seems like he’s looking directly to your eyes.

he started the engine of his bike and then a loud roaring sound errupts from it. he then bolted out from the parking lot of the school. both you and heeseung follows his bike driving away.

“such a show off.” he utters under his breath and then moves after jake drove his car out the parking.

the drive was as expected, slightly long. heeseung is quiet, only the faint song playing from the radio is what plays on the background. it was a little awkward, if you’ll be honest.

“are you cold?” you jolt a little when heeseung suddenly ask that question. he glanced at you briefly and you answered with a low ‘no’. he nods and then continued driving.

eventually, the vehicle slows down as it reaches near this huge elegant gate. your mouth gaps in amusement, eyes catching his friend’s vehicle entering as well. sunghoon’s big bike storms inside and even throw a middle finger at jake’s car.

“stay for a bit, angel. i’ll open your—” your heads whips over to the side when heeseung’s car bursts open.

jake leans downward to meet your eyes, hands rests in front, offering to help you.

“let’s go, sweetheart.” he smiles. you didn’t really have much of a choice as he reaches for your hand and guided you outside the car.

heeseung went out too and you saw jay getting off his vehicle as well. a small smirk playing over his sexy lips.

“what’s happening to the three of you, really?” he scoffs and rolls his eyes.

you glanced at the three as well, a confused look plastered all over your face. you did notice how they’re being weird from the parking lot incident.

“its because of jake. he’s so childish.” sunghoon commented right after walking near your place.

jake frowns, “no, i’m not!” he hardly objects.

heeseung rolls his eyes, “stop sulking, jake sim.” he then started walking towards the grand entrance of the big mansion right in front of you.

because of their small arguments, you failed to even notice it. now that you had the chance to admire it, you can tell that it reaks off money. some side comments and other complaints can be heard from jake but your focus was at the big house.

soon, a hand placed gently on the lower of your back.

“let’s go inside, baby.” jay says lowly and started to guide you towards the house.

you gulped, but followed him. its not like you have other options. besides you’re here to do the project... right?

when you made it inside, there are a lot of helpers assisting and attending to heeseung.

“welcome back, sir jay.” one greets when she noticed the guy beside you. looks like he’s often here that the maids are familiar of him.

oh, silly you. they all grew up together. it just made sense that they’re often at each other’s house.

“this is miss y/n.” he introduces you that caught you off-guard. she shifted her eyes to you and smiled warmly before offering a bow.

you panicked then bows back. “h-hi!”

“are you sir jay’s girlfriend?” she curiously asked right after.

“u-uhh—”

“what are you two doing? let’s go to my room.” heeseung interrupts with a stern voice.

jay smiles at the maid before guiding you towards the second floor. you just gave a small smile to the lady and just let yourself go to wherever jay asks you to.

heeseung and jay then started talking about a left work on the student council’s office. it was none of your concern so you try to busy yourself with the things you can see around the house. the interior of the whole place was just amazing. you can tell they spent a lot for their home.

you stopped walking once jay and heeseung did and you saw a door in front of heeseung. he glanced at you before opening it.

your steps halted when you’re about to go inside. something inside you just grow worried. you have no idea why, but your heart kept on beating so fast.

they noticed your sudden hesitation so both of them glanced over their shoulders, looking at you.

“what’s wrong?” jay asks while heeseung remains silent.

you gulped and took a short glance around heeseung’s spacious room. “n-nothing.”

you took a long breath, “c-can’t we just do it at your living room?” you pull up a smile in order to not raise any suspicion. the last thing you want is for them to think that you’re taking this in a wrong way.

“what’s wrong with doing it inside my room?” heeseung asks nonchalantly.

you took a step back, “u-uhm,—” you gasps when your back suddenly collided with a broad chest.

“going somewhere, doll?” sunghoon stares down at you while he stood gloriously behind you.

jake scoffs and then wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling up a mischievous grin.

“let’s go inside, okay? we’re going to have so much fun!” he cheers with a big smile, but you can feel your stomach churns and heart beating so fast.

sunghoon steps forward pushing you inside the room. heeseung sat down his gaming chair and rotates it so he’s facing his king sized bed. jay took off his coat and hangs it neatly by the sofa. jake’s smirking while watching you closely.

you feel timid being around and watched by them, so you looked everywhere except their eyes. the silence stretched for a couple of minutes before heeseung breaks it.

“strip, angel.” he starts then rests his back completely at the chair.

your feet glued at the floor and breathing got rigif while facing your back at them. their heated gaze pierced and almost burned a hole behind your head. you can feel it.

“strip for us.” he says in a very demanding tone.

slowly, you faced them with a slight fear flickering through your eyes.

“h-huh? but we’re suppose to d-do our project—”

“oh fuck that project, sweetheart! we’re going to do you instead.” jake interrupts smirking after licking his plump lips once. his eyes stares at you like a hungry predator.

“calm down, jake. you’re going to scare her.” jay says, mischief lazing through his voice while smirking sexily beside sunghoon.

they’re both sat at the sofa. the man beside him has his polo unbuttoned all the way, leaning forward as his elbow rests over his knees and eyes burning at you. he’s quiet and red lips hardly pursed. his dark, thick eyebrows narrowed together.

you remained standing awkwardly at the middle of heeseung’s bedroom, the door a few feet away from you. it slid inside your mind. to try and run away from them. but its impossible. with their built, they can easily catch you and who knows what that can do to you? they never go easy whenever they’re pissed off.

besides, sunghoon’s sat on the path towards it. he can easily grab and stop you from escaping. that’s totally crossed out of your plans.

you heaved a sigh, “g-guys,”

“did we ask you to talk?” heeseung.

instantly, your lips are pursed hardly. despite him showing a little soft side of him from a while ago, you’re still terrified whenever he’s very serious.

“we’re waiting, baby.” jay caught your attention.

you stared at them for a while and realized that you have nowhere to go. they got you cornered and stripped off of choices. once again, you’re helpless around these four men.

you balled your fists and jake’s eyes dropped from your pretty face to your hands. they’re trembling and he’s certain its a mixture of fear and worry. his grin grew wider. his nerves are shaking in excitement. he couldn’t wait to have you, to devour you, to ruin you.

“go on, y/n.” heeseung, again with his stern voice.

your eyes darted at sunghoon whose still quiet. his eyes then soften and he sighs, fists relaxing.

“strip for us, doll. its okay, we won’t hurt you.” he says in a calm voice. its still a surprise how he’s acting right now. he’s not the impatient and rough sunghoon. it slightly made you feel at ease.

when your hand slowly raised to untangle your necktie, you heard jake hissed and glared at sunghoon.

“remember what we talked about, hoon!” he said that got you confused.

sunghoon rolls his eyes, “yeah, whatever. i’m just trying to make her feel relax. you’re putting too much pressure on her.”

jake clicked his tongue and glanced back at you. his eyes looked more aggressive, screams more danger.

“why, sweetheart? are we scaring you?” he stepped closer, making you hold your breath.

“am i scaring you?” he repeats his words, his face are inches away from yours that you can feel his hot breath fanning your skin.

“jake,” heeseung calls him.

he ignored him and kept his stares right at your pretty face. despite the lack of answer, the tears on your eyes were enough to tell him that you are indeed scared. it didn’t make him feel pitiful, instead it drives him more crazy.

“strip for me or i’ll rip them off from you myself.” he groans.

you gulped and started to fasten your pace. now unbuttoning your polo— the one heeseung got you.

sunghoon clenched his jaw hardly, fighting so hard to interrupt. his friends talked to him about being the last to touch you tonight as a punishment for him. its actually a shit decision they came up with just because they think he’s starting to be your favorite.

that thought was the only thing that made him agree. he couldn’t help but to feel excited thinking about it.

he stood up that made jay and heeseung glance at his direction.

“don’t get in the way.” jay reminded him.

he threw him a short glance as he fished something from his pocket.

“i’m not going to.” he pulls out a cigarette and a lighter. “i’m going to smoke.” he added then glance at heeseung.

“you won’t mind right?”

heeseung stares for a while before tearing his gaze off of sunghoon. he took that as a yes then lits his cigarette.

“take off everything.” jake commands when you finished getting rid of your polo and school skirt.

“b-but—”

“strip.” he shortly said.

you stared at his eyes and slowly obliged. you don’t even know why you kept complaining when you’ll just end up doing it too.

the moment you finished taking everything off, completely naked in front of them, you feel shy. so shy that you try covering whatever your arms can. the four men stares silently, their eyes grew darker. looked more hungrier.

“lay on the bed for me, sweetheart.” jake mumbles, this time a lot more softer. “i want to eat you.” he added while taking off his necktie.

before jake continues discarding his clothes off, he snakes his hand on your nape to pull you closer to him. he placed a wet, but gentle kiss on your lips then stares right at your eyes.

“you’re so pretty. do you know that?” he says under his breath that made your heart race. he seems pissed, and honestly his attitude today are off for you. he’s very playful in nature, but the way he’s so aggressive is not like him. you know something’s up with jake sim.

“let me fucking eat you.” he added and then continued what he stopped doing to give you a kiss.

your eyes moved towards heeseung and he just gave you a nod. with slow steps you walked towards the bed and sat on the edge.

jake gently pushed your body so you can lay on it then he opened your thighs for him, giving a full display of your slightly wet core. he growls lightly, salivating by the view.

“damn, this pussy.” he mumbles before giving it a long lick making you purse your lips together.

jake almost went crazy having a taste of your cunt. he always loved it. if he can, he will eat you all day. so he didn’t waste a time to dive in and lap your cunt like a hungry animal. you whimper and legs slowly closing out of pleasure from the way he’s eating you.

a hand then reaches over your knee to open them back. when you open your eyes, you saw jay. he’s already standing at the edge of the bed, beside jake. his white t-shirt is off already and he’s left with just his boxers.

“keep them wide open, baby.” he orders while his other hand palms his cock inside his shorts.

you can’t even say a word or resist as your mind gets all fuzzy because of how good jake is making you feel. jake giggles through your cunt making you shut your eyes, brows arching closer to each other.

your face contorts out of pleasure.

jake’s hand rests at your thighs and massages it gently. you can feel a hand carding your hair, brushing it off your pretty face.

your eyes pry open when jake pulls away.

“sorry, angel. we’ll move you a bit so you can suck jay.” heeseung caught your attention. he’s already near the bed too.

when your eyes look at jay, he’s already taking off his boxers as they slightly drag you towards the corner of the bed. jay dives his head and kissed you on your lips while fondling on your exposed tits.

“uhm,” you moaned. he gave it a few more suck then tugs it lightly using his teeth as he pulls away, making you yelp.

“suck my dick, baby. let’s get you busy.” jay mumbles and places his shaft near your face.

jake then continues eating you, making you squirm again. he pushes your thighs wider, doesn’t giving you any chance to close it. he wants to take his time, eating and enjoying how you whimper in pleasure. the way you look pained, but he knew pretty well that he’s making you feel so good.

“how’s the view from there, hoon?” jay shouted, taunting his friend.

your eyes shifted at the sofa while jay enters your mouth. sunghoon’s dark eyes are darted at you while he sexily huffs on his cigarette. its taking everything of him not to get in between. he couldn’t help but feel so aroused by the sight of his own friends using you.

he remained silent and just watch from afar. jay scoffs then narrows his brows when his cock reaches the inside of your mouth. it feels so warm and soft, something that drives him crazy.

“fuck.” he curses and started to thrust on his own liking.

while jake laps your pussy and jay fucks your mouth, heeseung takes off all his clothes. he position himself on your other side then grabs your hand.

“you aren’t forgetting about me now, are you angel?” his taunting voice rings over your head and you mumbled something, causing vibration straight to jay’s throbbing cock.

“oh just like that, baby.” he groans and continues pistoning his hips towards you.

heeseung gave a few strokes to his dick before leaning to give you a kiss on the lips as well. it lasted for a few more seconds until he pulls away so you can give him a hand job.

“oh, yeah. just like that.” heeseung mumbles as he watch you all occupied with them.

he cannot help but to feel very excited at the view. how your eyes are tear stained yet still do as they say. its giving a satisfaction he couldn’t get from anything. he was certain you’re the only one who can give it to him, to them.

jake chuckes and giggles mischievously while tongue buried deep inside your wet hole. his chin wet with your juices and his saliva. it was heaven for him to see you squirm uncontrollably because of pleasure.

“u-ugh!” your mouth hugs jay’s big dick tighter that made him groan in pleasure, your hand too tightens around heeseung’s. it indicates that you are nearing your first release and they all couldn’t wait.

“are you near, baby?” jay asks, whimpering from his own pleasure.

you nodded continuously, slightly losing your mind at the climax you’ve been anticipating.

“i’m near too, baby. let’s cum together.” jay groans and grind even harder, chasing you.

“give it to me, sweetheart.” jake fucks into your cunt using his two fingers, tongue attached on your hole, waiting for that sweet juice he’s been dying for.

heeseung brushes your hairs off from your face, making sure to fist them so it won’t cover your pretty features. he loves staring and watching you whimper in pleasure. beads of sweat forms on your forehead and his eyes travels down your tits boucing slightly due to jake finger fucking you.

he leans and puts your nipple inside his mouth, sucking and twirling his hot tongue on the tip, making you feel dizzy.

“nghhh,” your thighs shakes and tries to move away from jake’s lips but he held you firm, making sure you have nowhere to go. sucking and taking all of your juices.

the sensation making your eyes rolls at the back of your head. jay, too reached his climax and shoot at the depth of your hot mouth, cursing and growling.

“such a good girl.” he says and leans to give you a kiss on your cheeks. “pretty baby.” he added and placed another kiss.

once done harvesting your cum, jake stood up and licks his lips with a grin on his face.

“get on fours. i’ll fuck you doggystyle.” he says and grabs your hand to help you get up from laying down. he knew you’re still in trance from the recent release.

heeseung gently press your palm to catch your attention. he arched his brows while glancing softly at your direction. jay brushes your hair away and wiped off the sweat.

“you good, angel? still with us?” heeseung asks and help you position yourself.

you nod your head once, head still fuzzy. heeseung chuckles, finding you adorable and kisses your shoulder once.

“you’re so hot, sweetheart.” jake and smacks your butt cheeks. you yelp slightly at the impact. it stings a bit but it oddly feels so good.

jake groans and cupped both your butt and leans in to kiss it, biting it.

“calm down, dude.” jay chuckles and swat his arms which he answered with a giggle.

your ears are still ringing from all of that when a hand started to gather your hair. it was sunghoon and he’s looking at you with slight worry in his eyes.

“i’ll just tie your hair, doll.” you nodded and he did his best to put away those lose hairstrands out of your face.

you smiled at him softly and mumbled ‘thank you’, which you doubt he heard. he sighs and leans in to kiss you once on your lips before walking back near jay.

“perfect. suck my dick this time, okay?” heeseung says and positions himself in front of you.

a small nod is what you gave him and he smirks, pinching your cheeks because he find you cute this way. all submissive and sweaty.

“ready? i’m going in.” jake says from behind and heeseung just nods his head.

you moaned the moment you felt jake pushing his dick inside of you, stretching you in the process. his thick veiny cock slowly disappears. just half of it and he’s already going crazy. he missed this feeling. he missed feeling you around him, suffocating and taking all of his length.

“fuck, you’re so tight.” he groans and couldn’t wait anymore as he did a hard thrust, reaching it deep.

your eyes widen at the sudden visitor making your mouth gap as well. heeseung took this chance to enter your mouth and he let out muffled curses because of how hot your lips feels around him. his brows narrowed closer to each other.

“shit.” he curses and take his time rutting his dick over your mouth. he was fighting back not to go too hard as he wants to go slow.

on the other hand, jake’s the opposite. he’s going fast and deep making you see stars. you tried hard to keep on all fours, but you can feel your knees losing its strength, along with your arms.

as jake started to take it faster, making sure he’s hitting every delicious places inside you, heeseung decided to catch pace with him. the room was filled with your moans and the erotic slapping sounds of your bodies colliding each other.

“i’m f-fucking close...” jake hissed and laid his tongue out sexily. heeseung smirks and gets more aggressive on using your mouth to chase his own orgasm.

“me too.” heeseung.

you moaned and tightens your cunt and lips when you felt your own climax approaching. jake’s breath became more heavy at the pleasure your hole is making him feel.

“fuck you feel so good like this, sweetheart.” he groans and slaps your butt then leans down to kiss your back, making sure to suck on the skin to leave a mark. his mark.

“so good for me.” he says, almost out of breath. “so damn good for all of us.”

and a few more deep thrust, jake released his hot cum inside you. heeseung throws his head back, cumming inside your mouth. the three of you are catching your breaths while he both tries to catch your highs. heeseung strokes your cheeks gently.

your knees gaves in and body collided to heeseung’s soft white sheets. jay steps in and made sure you’re all right.

“tired, angel?” heeseung whispered, smiling while looking at your shut eyes and breathing heavily.

jake pulls out, some of his cum dripping out from your hole. he kneels down to see it more clearly and groans at the sight of it. he licks two of his fingers and slides it in your hole, shoving his cum back. it made you jolt and moan, feeling too much.

he chuckles, “you did good for me, sweets.” his eyes a lot more softer than before. he seems to calm down now.

“we’re not done yet.” heeseung mumbles that you responded with a light groan.

he ignored it and laid back at the edge of his bed, feet touching the floor.

“ride me, angel.” he held your arm to guide you over his lap. you needed some help and the other boys were quick to assist you.

“too t-tired..” you manage to say. heeseung placed a chaste kiss at your cheeks.

“its okay, i’ll do the work.” he assures you.

jake smirks meeting eyes with heeseung. he taps jay’s shoulder and tilted his chin towards the two of you.

“let’s do it, jay.” jake says excitedly. “fuck her other hole.” and he trudges towards heeseung’s side drawer.

sunghoon stood up with furrowed brows.

“what the fuck do you mean? we never tried it before.” he steps in. “are you sure she can handle that today?”

jake rolls his eyes and glanced at his friend for a while. he taps his chest and raised the bottle of lube. “yes. i’m sure our girl can handle it.”

“right, sweets?” he asks you.

you are not at the proper state of mind to respond or comprehend what they’re talking about. your mind is too clouded with pleasure and the overstimulation is taking away your capability to understanding anything.

“angel?” heeseung gently calls you.

“hmm?” you hummed.

he chuckles, “jay and i are going to fuck you at the same time. is that okay?”

jokes on them because you can’t even process anything. a nod is all you gave them. sunghoon gulped, a bit nervous but he can’t deny that he’s also looking forward to it. he’s so sure you’ll look so alluring having both your holes filled.

“see? she’s our big girl.” jake smirks and squats down to prep your hole. they don’t really need a lot of the lube as you’re so wet from what jake just did moments ago and because you’re too aroused.

“damn, so tight.” he mumbles after sliding his index finger inside as a test.

jay gulped, totally salivating. he pushes his friend away and positions himself.

“just make sure to take it slow, man.” sunghoon reminded him, now starting to discard his clothes one by one.

“w-what...” you’re slowly going back to your senses, but it was too late.

heeseung slides his cock inside your pussy as jay puts the tip in front of your butt hole. your eyes slightly grow big and worry flashes your pretty face.

“h-huh?” you’re about to look back when jake cups your face. he smiles sweetly and kisses your lips.

“don’t be scared, sweets. we’ll make sure you will feel good, okay?” his gaze too soft and hypnotizing.

its not that you don’t want it. for the past months that you’ve been under these boys, they’ve already corrupted you. behind those innocent looking eyes you flashes them is the dark desire of having them all to yourself.

sunghoon soon came into your view, “it’ll be all right, doll.” he smiles and held your hand.

“here i come, baby.” jay’s low voice ringed from behind you and as he says, he pushes forward.

“ugh,” you groaned, hurting from the fresh stretch.

heeseung starts to slowly fuck from below you, just to ease some of the pain you’re going through.

“i-it hurts...” your eyes starts tearing up.

sunghoon glared at jake. “did you even put enough lube?” he hissed at his friend.

jake caress your cheeks, “i did! its suppose to hurt, sweets. just like the first time when sunghoon took you.” he reminded with a slight bitterness on his tone.

sunghoon ignored his friend comments and focused on comforting you. he leans in and attached his lips on yours, tongue messily dancing with each other.

“fuck, so tight...” jay groaned, eyes shut from the pleasure of being squeezed inside you.

“her cunt is getting more tighter too, jay. keep going.” heeseung’s brows are narrowed from pleasure.

the sting is still there, but it became more tolerable as heeseung dicks you from below and sunghoon making out with you. eventually, they’re sliding in and out smoothly.

“oh m-my gosh..” your eyes rolled at the back of your head from the intense pleasure you are having.

you cannot describe it. the way their big dicks are drilling you are making you crazy, feels like heaven.

“fuck.” jay and heeseung cursed hardly as they fuck you in sync.

jake salivates just by watching you getting used by them. you look beautiful. you look so hot. and you are his. you belong to them.

“i’m getting close, hyung.” jay growls and kept on rutting his cock inside you.

“me too.” heeseung leans and capture your breast to suck it.

“so good for us. such a good girl.” jay mumbles.

sunghoon pulls away to watch. “fuck.”

“you’re so good, sweetheart.” jake whispers beside your face. you smiles and moans, trying to keep your eyes open to look at him.

your free hand reaches over his handsome face and cares it, “k-kiss me, jake.” his eyes darken and without hesitation he gaves in to your request.

a few moments, jay and heeseung came inside your holes together with you. both of your legs shakes and body collapsing on top of heeseung, panting so hard.

heeseung breaths in, taking your sweet scent. he pulls your face closer to make out as he kept sliding his dick inside, fucking his cum back.

your eyes already closed and almost passing out. he kisses your cheeks and smiles.

“just one more, angel. can you do it for us?” he asks gently.

you nodded your head and he smiles, “good girl.”

sunghoon helps you to get off from heeseung so he can replace him. jake made sure you’re stable enough as you straddle his lap. jay squats to clean you as his, heeseung’s and jake’s cum drips all over the place.

“hey,” sunghoon calls softly and cups both of your cheeks. he tries to search for your eyes.

“just one more, doll.”

you nodded your head, “p-please.”

“please what, pretty?”

“please make me feel g-good.” you look drunk on lust because you’re starting to sound demanding.

the boys chuckles, finding you adorable this way. sunghoon smiles, relieved that you seem to be fine. just exhausted.

“definitely, love.” he whispers. “that’s what we’re all here for, doll. to make you feel good.” and he kissed your cheeks.

jake leans in and kisses your shoulderblades. “i’ll fuck you too, sweets. okay?”

you nodded your head and props your head asking for a kiss. he chuckles and gave in, dropping a quick peck on your swollen lips.

“hold on tight on sunghoon, hmm?” heeseung’s back beside you.

you nodded and placed both of your hands on sunghoon’s broad shoulders. jay went inside the bathroom to start running a warm bath for you.

“i’ll enter now.” sunghoon says and slides inside your pussy.

both of you moaned. jake’s eyes darken as he position himself behind you, his aching tip dying to enter your other hole.

“here i come, sweets.” and smoothly slides in as well. the three of you are a moaning mess.

your mind all blank and you’re starting to see stars already. the two of them fucked you rough and fast, not giving any mercy. the way they rutt their dicks are different from how they console you moments ago. they went fast, like they’re chasing something.

“fuck, pussy so good.” sunghoon moans and kisses your shoulders, he opens his mouth then buries his fangs on your skin. oddly, it added to the pleasure.

“oh shit... so good sweetheart.” jake’s brows draws closer to each other as he focuses on the view of his cock sliding inside your butt hole. it was so hot. the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

it went for a few more minutes. your moans and the skin slapping each other echoes through the whole room. it was so good. so damn good that you almost pass out due to too much pleasure and tiredness.

“i’m cumming.” sunghoon was the first one to announce.

“me too, dude!” jake and he reaches over your clit to rub it.

“nnghh,” you moaned, unable to even utter a single word anymore.

“she’s choking me inside. she’s close, jake. fuck faster.” sunghoon hissed and the two of them did it.

a few more seconds and they shoot their hot cums inside. jake’s panting so hard, so is sunghoon. you completely fall over sunghoon’s body, eyes close shut.

“doll?” sunghoon calls out between his heavy breaths.

you didn’t respond so he slightly pulls away to check on you. he saw you’re already pass out so he smiled and kisses your cheeks gently.

“you did good, doll.” he whispers.

jake pulls out and before cleaning himself, he grabbed the towel from jay and cleaned you. he leans over your face to kiss you softly with a warm smile on his face. “you did so well, sweets.”

jay brushes away some hairs that sticked onto your pretty face, “thank you, baby. you did so well.” he whispers.

sunghoon helped putting you over heeseung’s arms and he walks inside the bathroom where the warm bath is waiting for you.

you groaned, “we’ll just clean you before you rest, angel.” he assured and gently placed you at the bathtub.

you can feel your whole body aching, mind still fuzzy after all you did. despite everything, one question plays inside your mind.

‘what are you for them?’

tricky one too. you’re dying to know, but at the same time you’re scared to find out. most of the times they are mean to you, makes you feel like their toy. but after how they acted moments ago, it raised confusion. a slight hope that they indeed care for you as much as you care for them ignites inside you.

you tried shoving that thought off. you’re too tired. maybe you’ll ask them later. for now, you’re going to rest because they surely pushed you to your limit.

heeseung stares at your pretty face then smiles and caress your cheeks, “you did so well for us, angel.” and kisses you once on your lips.

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wvyik · 3 months ago

Text

wrapped in ya’ d.w. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

dean winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: after a hunt, you slip into dean’s flannel, but when he sees you in it, the heat between you two ignites, and it quickly turns into something much more tempting.

⤿ warnings: mdni!! smut, explicit content, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, steamy chemistry, oral sex, (both receiving) unprotected fun, fingering, heavy praise kink, use of pet names, light breeding kink (👀), dirty talk, safe word check-in, long ass descriptions, porn with some plot? pre-established relationship, flannel fueled chaos, too much heat— someone call the fire department.

⤿ notes: hiya lovelies!! okay so.. this one gets spicy real fast. gawd i feel so shy about posting smut bahaha. but i tried my best. i need some tips (pun intended) though! i adore reading ur comments guys, seriously. thank you so much for the support! <3

The night had been long, the hunt brutal, but now, back in the bunker, the weight of exhaustion had settled into your bones. But there was one thing that made everything a little better — Dean’s flannel, slung over the back of the couch. You didn’t think twice before pulling it on, the soft fabric engulfing you, his scent instantly wrapping around you.

You had a second of peace, just standing there, breathing him in, when you heard the unmistakable sound of Dean’s boots behind you. You turned slowly to see him standing in the doorway, eyes dark, smirk curling on his lips.

“Really?” His voice was thick with amusement, but there was a layer of something else beneath it, something hungry. “Stealing my clothes now, huh?”

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, the oversized flannel making you feel like you were drowning in it— but it felt damn good. “It’s comfy,” you said, teasing him, but the heat in your gaze was unmistakable.

Dean’s eyes scanned you slowly, taking in every inch of the way the flannel hung off your body. He stepped forward, the air between you crackling with tension. “Comfy?” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes were anything but joking. “You look fucking irresistible in it.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rush through your veins at his words. You could feel the tension building between you, that magnetic pull you couldn’t fight.

“You gonna keep stealing my shirts now, sweetheart?” Dean said, his voice rough, low, sending shivers down your spine as his hand reached out to trail down your arm. “Or do I get to make you forget about it?”

You swallowed hard, looking up at him. “Maybe I like it. Maybe I like you seeing me in your clothes.”

Dean smirked, and before you could blink, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in so close that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His lips were on yours before you could even react, hard and demanding. His hands slid under the flannel, grazing your skin, his fingers burning a trail up your sides.

You gasped into the kiss when his hands slid lower, cupping you through the fabric of your jeans, the heat between you two growing unbearable. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as his hands began to work the buttons of your jeans.

“Dean,” you moaned softly, your hands pulling at his shirt, desperate for more contact, for more of him.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he muttered against your skin, his breath ragged. “You want me to fuck you right here, in my clothes?”

You felt your body tremble at the thought. His words, the way he was looking at you like he couldn’t wait to strip everything away, made you ache.

“Please,” you whispered, fingers tugging at his belt.

Dean growled, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you effortlessly, pushing you up against the nearby wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth claimed yours again, with an unrelenting pace.

His eyes darkened, lips brushing against yours, "You're so damn perfect. You know that?"

You shivered at his words, the combination of his raw, dominant tone and the sweetness of his compliments sending a rush of heat through your body.

"De.." you murmured, hands slipping beneath his shirt to explore the muscles of his back, skin burning with every touch. "I need you so bad, please,"

Your touch sent a jolt of desire coursing through his veins, his breathing growing heavy as he ground against you, the hard length of him pressing against your hip, the friction driving him wild.

"You feel that?" he asked, his voice rough, "That's what you do to me, sweetheart."

You gasped softly, feeling the evidence of his arousal straining against his jeans, your body responding involuntarily, arching against him in search of more of that delicious friction.

"Bed?" you managed, the word barely a whisper. "Need you in a bed, not against a wall.."

The corners of his lips curled into a smirk at your desperate plea. He wanted you too, craved you like the air he breathed, but he loved teasing you, pushing you to the brink before giving in.

"Not yet," he murmured, his grip on you unrelenting. "We're not finished here."

He dipped his head, his mouth trailing a path down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You writhed under his touch, your body alive with sensation, every nerve ending singing. "Dean, please," you whimpered, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He savored the sound of your breathy pleas, relishing in the way you came undone beneath his touch. "I know, baby.. Love hearing you beg for me like that," he whispered against your skin, his voice roughened by arousal. “Enough of that, though. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

Your knees almost gave way at the command, a sharp gasp slipping through your lips. "De—," you protested weakly, but there was no real resistance, just a trembling anticipation.

"Do as I say," he insisted, his grip unyielding as he guided you to the floor, your knees hitting the carpet with a soft thud. He stood above you, his eyes burning with intensity as you knelt before him, your face level with the obvious bulge in his jeans.

"Take my belt off," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his leather belt, your fingertips brushing against the cool metal of the buckle. It took you a few attempts to undo it, your fingers clumsy with desire.

Once the belt was undone, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he guided your hand to the zipper of his jeans. "Keep going, sweetheart."

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you unzipped his jeans, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise silent room, your fingertips brushing against the fabric of his boxers.

"Now... pull them down, slowly." His words were a command, a challenge, but beneath the dominance, there was an underlying tenderness, a hint of vulnerability that only showed itself in moments like these.

You obeyed, your hands reaching for the waistband of his jeans, fingers trembling with anticipation as you shimmied them down his hips. The material was rough against your hands, and the sound of denim sliding over his muscular thighs sent a shiver down your spine.

He stepped out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxers, the fabric strained by his arousal. He looked down at you, his eyes roving over your body, taking in the way you knelt before him, soft and submissive, ready to do whatever he asked.

He reached down, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb traced your lower lip, his touch tender despite the commanding tone of his voice.

"You trust me, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes searching yours, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"Yes," you whispered, the word escaping your lips without hesitation. You did trust him, implicitly. He had seen you at your most vulnerable, your darkest moments, and he had never once taken advantage of it. Instead, he had been your pillar of strength, your protector, your safe harbor in the storm.

His thumb continued tracing your lip, a gentle smile curving his mouth at your response. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise sending a jolt of desire through you, his approval filling you with warmth. “Now, open that pretty lil’ mouth for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the simple command igniting a fire within you. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, your eyes locked on his as you waited for his next command.

His thumb slipped past your parted lips, tracing the outline of your tongue. “Suck it,” he demanded, his voice low and sensual.

You obeyed without hesitation, your tongue swirling around his thumb as you sucked it into your mouth. The action was both submissive and rebellious, your eyes defiant even as you yielded to his command.

Dean groaned, his eyes darkening as he watched you. "That's it," he said, his thumb withdrawing from your mouth with a wet pop. "Look so good on your knees for me, baby."

He threaded his fingers into your hair, his grip firm as he angled your head to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of tenderness and dominance.

"You know what I want, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, a wordless affirmation that you understood exactly what he was asking for. Your lips were parted, your breath coming in heavy pants, your body already trembling in anticipation.

He ran his hand over your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the rough command. "Go on then, touch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand trembled as you reached for him, your palm sliding over the rough cotton of his boxers, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. Your touch was tentative at first, but as you heard him draw in a sharp breath, your confidence began to grow.

His hand tensed in your hair as your touch grew bolder, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through the fabric. "Mmm... that's it," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure, "Just like that, sweetheart."

Your hand cupped him more firmly, massaging him through the fabric until he was practically vibrating with need. "F-fuck... you're so good for me, aren't you darling?"

Your response was a strangled moan, your body responding to his praise like a flame to gasoline. You were on fire, consumed by a desperate need for him, the ache between your thighs growing with every passing moment. "Please," you gasped, looking up at him, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. "Dean, please... I need you."

His jaw clenched at the view of you. It was a sight that never failed to get him going, his control almost at its limit. "Yeah? You need me that bad, huh?" he teased, his fingers tangling more tightly in your hair.

You nodded, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "Yes," you breathed, your hand still massaging him through the fabric. "So bad, Dean. I need you. Please."

The desperate plea in your tone and the way you were touching him pushed him to the edge. He was already struggling to hold back, and the sight of you on your knees, begging for him, was almost too much.

"Then take what you want," he commanded, his voice a hoarse rasp, "Cmon, angel.. you know what to do."

Without hesitation, you reached for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down with a swift motion, freeing him from the last barrier of fabric. You swallowed hard as you took him in, your hand wrapping around him, the weight and heat of him feeling like the missing piece to a puzzle you hadn't known was incomplete.

He let out a guttural groan as you touched him, your grip firm and sure, almost worshipful. "Fuck.. just like that, sweetheart," he gasped, his eyes closing for a fraction of second before refocusing on you, watching your every move. "You know how to drive me crazy.."

The praise from him sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching towards his, your hand moving in a steady rhythm. You loved the way you could make him lose control, the way he looked at you now, completely undone by your touch.

"Yeah, just like that.. just keep touching me, babe," he whispered, his hand tightening in your hair again, guiding your mouth towards him. "I need you, sweetheart. I need-"

You didn't hesitate, your tongue darting out to taste him, the saltiness of his skin making your head spin. He groaned, his breath hitching as he watched you, his grip on your hair becoming almost painful. "You're perfect.. so damn perfect..," he murmured, his words interspersed with ragged breaths. "Just like that.. don't stop, sweetheart.. please don't stop.."

You quickened your pace, your tongue swirling and tasting, desperate to drive him over the edge. You wanted to give him everything he needed, to show him just how much you wanted him.

"Oh, I'm close... keep goin.." he gasped, his hips canting forward automatically, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him. "Just a little bit more, sweetheart.. you're so good.. so perfect.. I'm gonna-"

You knew he was close, you could feel it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath came in ragged gasps. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his gaze, and that was it.

His release was sudden, his body shaking with the intensity of it, a hoarse cry passing his lips. He held on to you tightly, the grip on your hair probably painful, but you didn't care. You loved seeing him lose control, the way his face showed every emotion, the way he let himself be vulnerable around you.

He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looked down at you. "Goddamn, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice still thick with arousal. “Think you—fuck—think you might need a reward for that, huh?”

A mixture of pride and exhaustion filled you as he spoke. You were trembling, your body almost as spent as his from the intensity of your actions. But the thought of a reward made your eyes gleam. "A-a reward?.." you asked, the word almost a purr.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rough. "Yeah, sweetheart, a reward," he confirmed, his hand moving from your hair to your face, his thumb tracing the lines of your face. "You did so good.. you deserve something special."

His touch was gentle, tender even, a stark contrast to the dominating way he had been moments ago. It always surprised you how he could switch between the two, one moment being demanding, the next tender. But that was just who he was. A man of contrasts.

Dean helped you up, steadying you on your shaky legs before leading you over to the bed. He sat you down on the edge, pulling you onto your back, your legs in between him. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you with a possessiveness that was both comforting and arousing.

He kissed you, slow and deep, his tongue moving against yours, tasting and exploring. It was a gentle, almost loving kind of kiss, one that belied the intensity of the moment. He pulled away after a few seconds, his gaze roaming over your body hungrily.

"I could ravish you right now," he murmured, his hand roaming over your body, "But I don't want to rush this.. I want to take my time with you, baby. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."

Your breath hitched at his words, anticipation building in your chest. You knew he meant every word, and the thought of what was to come made your body tingle. "I want that too," you whispered, your hands coming up to toy with his hair. "I want you, Dean. All of you…"

He smiled at your words, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. "And you'll have me, sweetheart," he promised, his tone confident. "Every part of me.. yours to do with as you please."

He leaned down, pressing a trail of kisses down your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin. Each touch was slow and deliberate, as if he was mapping out every inch of you. His hand slid up your side, his fingers playing lightly at the hem of your shirt before tugging it up, slowly baring more of your flesh to him.

He pulled the shirt over your head, tossing it aside before leaning back to look at you. He took his time, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in every detail. "So damn gorgeous," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "I never get tired of looking at you."

His hands began to wander again, exploring territory that was both familiar and exciting. He traced your collarbone, his thumb gently brushing over the sensitive area, before moving down to your breasts. His touch was light, teasing, his eyes fixated on your face to gauge your reaction.

You gasped as his thumb brushed over your nipples, the fabric of your bra the only barrier between you. He smirked, noticing your reaction, and did it again, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you. "Mmm... so sensitive already." he murmured, his voice low and teasing. He let his fingers go down your back, undoing your bra with skill.

Your breathing hitched, your body arching involuntarily under his touch. His words, combined with the sensations he was eliciting in you, were almost too much to handle. "Dean.. please.." you gasped, your body craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smirked at your plea, his hand tracing down over your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. "What do you want, darlin’? Use your words," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You swallowed hard, your mind fuzzy with desire. "More.." you managed to gasp out, your hips lifting slightly in a desperate attempt to get more of the contact you craved. "Please, more.. I need more.."

He chuckled at your desperate tone, amused and turned on by the effect he had on you. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, his fingers still teasing at the edge of your shorts. "I love how impatient you get for me, sweetheart.. it's almost endearing."

He leaned down again, his mouth finding a sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth nipping gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand was more demanding now, his fingers slipping down the fabric of your shorts, now dancing along the edge of your underwear.

Your body was on fire, your skin overly sensitive to every touch and kiss. You whimpered, your thighs clenching as his hand continued to tease you. "Please.. I can't take much more of this," you gasped, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"You can take it," he murmured, his mouth trailing down to your chest, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. "I know you can, sweetheart. And don't worry, you'll get everything you want in just a minute.. if you behave."

You knew exactly what he meant by behaving. You'd be obeying him tonight, and he was reminding you of that fact. You shivered beneath him, the anticipation building. "I'll be good," you promised, your voice almost a whine. "I'll be so good for you, just.. please, Dean."

His hand moved lower, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear, teasing the sensitive flesh there. "Fuck," he murmured, his eyes glued to your face. "So wet for me. You got that wet just by sucking my cock?.."

You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, the sound almost embarrassing in its neediness. "Yes," you admitted, "Just from that. Just from you."

He groaned in approval, his fingers moving gently over you. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, "That's my good girl. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

You nodded, your body shaking as his touch became more demanding. "I—I just wanted to make you feel good," you managed to gasp out, your hips lifting slightly in time with his movements.

"Oh, you did," he murmured, his voice rough with arousal. "You made me feel so good, sweetheart. But now it's my turn to return the favor..."

His mouth moved down your body, his teeth scraping against your skin, his tongue trailing a wet path towards your thighs. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a smirk on his lips. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? Want me to taste you like you tasted me?"

You nodded fervently, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. "Yes," you gasped, the word almost a sob. "Please, please, I need you, Dean."

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. "That's what I wanted to hear," he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open before him. "Just relax, princess. I'm gonna make you feel so damn good."

His tongue was hot on you, his touch firm and sure. He tasted and teased, his mouth working you into a frenzy. It was almost overwhelming, the way he knew all your sensitive spots, the way he knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild. You writhed beneath him, his finger curled up in you.

"So damn sensitive.." he murmured, his mouth moving against you, his words sending vibrations through your body. "You're so damn reactive to everything I do to you, sweetness.. it's so goddamn hot.. I could do this all night.. I could do this until you're a shaking, sobbing mess beneath me.. begging me for more..."

You were close, your body tensing, the coil inside you ready to snap. "Dean-please—" you gasped, your back arching off the bed, "I'm--oh God, I'm so close-just-just a little bit more—"

His tongue flicked over you, his pace picking up, his fingers digging into your thighs. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, "Cum for me. I want to hear you say my name, I want to feel you let go for me.."

And with his last words, you shattered, crying out his name as pleasure crested over you. You shook, your body arching, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. The intensity of it was mind numbing, the sensation washing over you.

He didn't stop, his mouth working you through it, prolonging the sensation. You moaned, your body trembling, your senses overwhelmed. It was too much, yet somehow not enough. You clutched at him, your hands running through his hair, needing something to ground you.

Finally, he pulled away, his mouth trailing kisses up your body as he moved back up to your face. He looked at you, his eyes dark, his expression satisfied. "You're incredible, baby," he murmured, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You tasted yourself on his lips, the realization making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, your body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure. "That was.. that was amazing," you managed to gasp out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name.

He smirked at that, his ego clearly boosted by your words. "Damn right, it was," he said, pride evident in his tone. He ran a hand through your hair, his touch surprisingly tender. "And we're far from done."

Your eyes widened at his words. Far from done? You weren't sure you would be able to handle much more, but the heat in his gaze told you that you didn't have a choice. You swallowed hard, your body already responding to his touch.

He chuckled at your expression, his hand rubbing small circles on your thigh. "You look like a deer caught in headlights, sweetheart," he teased, his smirk growing. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I just need you to do one thing for me."

You nodded, your body already responding to his command. "Anything," you replied breathless.

He leaned in, his mouth close to your ear, his tone dropping. "Beg for me, doll. I want you to beg me to fuck you."

Your cheeks flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. "Please," you whispered, your eyes meeting his. "Please, Dean, I need you to—" you stopped, the words almost stuck in your throat.

He chuckled, his hand moving lower, his touch teasing. "Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that," he encouraged, his eyes dark and demanding. "I know you want it. I know you want me. Just let yourself say it. Beg for it."

You felt a thrill run through you, the combination of his words and his touch pushing you over the edge. "Please," you whispered, "Please Dean, please - I need you. I need you inside me. I need you to take me, to make me yours. Please, please, please just—just—" you couldn't finish, your words strangled by your own need

His lips crushed yours, silencing your words with a bruising kiss. "That's what I wanted to hear, pretty girl," he murmured against your mouth, "Fucking hell, you know how to get me worked up."

He pulled back, his eyes roaming over your body, his expression hungry. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With that, he steadied himself against you, slowly teasing his hard arousal against your wetness. You gasped, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

"You good, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low. "Color check."

You took a deep breath, your mind still fuzzy with desire. "Green," you managed to gasp, your body begging for more.

He smiled, satisfied with your answer. "Good girl," he said, his hands gripping your thighs, he lifted your legs up over his shoulders. "Just relax, angel. I'm gonna take good care of you."

He leaned down, his mouth finding a sensitive spot on your neck. As he sucked and nipped at the skin there, slowly, agonizingly slow he pushed into you. Your head fell back against the bed, a low moan escaping your lips.

You could feel every inch, your body stretching and adjusting to him. He filled you completely, the friction sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Dean, please..," you whimpered.

"Please what, sweetheart?" He murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse with need. "You know you have to use your words."

"Move," you gasped, your body shaking with need. "Please, just.. just move. I need you to move."

He chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal. "Bossy, are we?" he teased. But there was a hint of satisfaction in his tone. He pulled back slightly, before slowly pushing back in. "Like this, baby?"

You gasped, your back arching against the sheets. "Yes," you managed to gasp, "Just like that, yes. Please, more."

He set a steady rhythm, his movements deep and sure. He knew exactly how to touch you, where to touch you, which spots made you shudder, which made you moan. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So damn tight," he groaned, his breath ragged. "You feel so fuckin’ amazing.”

His words, combined with the sensations he was eliciting, were almost too much. You were quickly unraveling beneath him, your body aflame with pleasure. You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair, needing something to ground you.

"Look at you, sweetheart," he murmured, his mouth finding your ear. "You're so damn perfect like this. All needy and desperate for me."

His words sent a thrill down your spine, his tone filled with hunger. You could feel him everywhere, his body pressed against yours, his scent surrounding you. It was all too much and not enough. "Don't stop," you gasped, "Don't-ah - don't stop, please, f-faster."

He groaned at your words, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. He was losing control, his grip on you tightening. "You— you feel so damn good," he gasped, his forehead resting on your shoulder. "I'm not gonna last much longer angel, you're driving me insane."

You were close, the coils inside you about to snap. You needed more, you needed it to last just a bit longer, even though you didn't know if you could take it. But Dean knew what you needed, he was always so in sync with your body.

"Cum for me one more time sweetheart," he murmured in your ear, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you come all over me. I want to hear you say my name. Just let go for me, my beautiful girl."

And with his words, you were lost, your body seizing as pleasure washed over you. You gasped, your hands clutching at him, his name a strangled cry.

Dean felt you tighten around him, and it was too much, he bit down on your shoulder, his own release hitting him like a wave. He shuddered, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "Sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum again, ‘gonna cum all in you.”

It was then you felt it. He slowed, stilling, his body shaking slightly. He looked at you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. "That.. that was…" he trailed off, his voice slightly raspy.

The room is still thick with heat, your body boneless against the mattress, breath coming in slow, uneven pulls. The last echoes of your moans still hang in the air, mixing with Dean’s heavy exhales as he finally— finally—collapses beside you.

For a moment, neither of you move. His arm is still hooked around your waist, his grip loose now, but his fingers are still there, brushing over your skin like he’s making sure you’re real. Like he’s not ready to let you go yet.

Then, in that low, raspy voice that makes your stomach flip, he murmurs, “You good, babe?”

You make a sound— half a hum, half a sigh— and barely manage to nod. That seems to be enough for him. He chuckles, voice still rough around the edges, and leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple. “Yeah, I gotcha. Just breathe for me, baby.”

His hands move without thinking, smoothing over your back, tracing lazy circles into your skin, as if mapping out every place he touched, every mark he left. When his fingers ghost over a spot he might’ve grabbed too hard, he tuts under his breath. “Shit, hope I didn’t go too hard on you.” His lips follow where his hands were, warm and soft against your shoulder. “Might owe you a damn back rub after that one.”

Eventually, he grumbles and pulls away— just for a second—to grab the water bottle from the nightstand. He presses it into your hand, watching you with that lazy, smitten smile as you take a few slow sips. “There we go,” he murmurs, brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face.

And then, without another word, he tugs you against his chest, settling you into the warmth of his body like you belong there. Like he needs you there.

His breath is warm against your hair as he mumbles, half-asleep already, “M’not moving. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”

So much for stealing a fucking flannel.

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes ⊹ ࣪ ˖

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tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡⋆

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aleese1111 · 19 days ago

Note

ong please please please do three wolves, one flame part 2 if you want ofc! I need geum seong je he's so hot in this story (I hope we end up with him)

three wolves, one flame two | geum seong je x union!reader x na baek jin

summary: in a city where stolen phones and bruised egos collide, a tense standoff between two gang members threatens to ignite—but when loyalty, exhaustion, and unexpected tenderness surface, the cracks beneath their rage finally show. as fists unclench and defense fall, they begin to realize that survival might mean learning to lean on each other—even when it hurts.

warnings: [slow burn] violence, language, blood, bruises, mild angst, mutual pining, toxic communication, vulnerable moments, mentions of crime.

author's note: this is getting toxic pal .. making me cry and stuff . requests ,,

✶ ᶻz .ᐟ , one .. two .. three ??

the motorcycle garage reeked of sweat, oil, and burnt rubber—the kind of place where tempers sparked easier than engines. a dented workbench sat shoved into one corner, tools scattered across it like a graveyard of failed fixes. the overhead light buzzed with a dying flicker, and the air was thick with heat and fury.

“you’re fucking unbelievable,” she hissed, voice cutting through the space like a scalpel.

seong je stood across from her, jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. “don’t start with me...”

“start? i’m not starting shit. i’m finishing what your idiot screwed up.” her voice rose to a full-blown yell. “you let one of your morons walk around with ten stolen phones like we’re not running an actual operation!”

“i didn’t let him do shit!” he shouted back, stepping forward. “he went off script! i told him to stash the haul. he got jumped, not my fucking fault!”

“then whose fault is it? mine?” her eyes burned, teeth grit. “you act like this is some damn street gang, not a business.”

“it is a street gang,” he snapped, voice heavy with sarcasm. “in case you forgot, none of us have fucking degrees or a retirement plan.”

“you know what i mean, seong je. we’re organized. we have rules. and your guy just cost us everything we pulled yesterday.”

“maybe if you weren’t so busy barking orders and being a condescending bitch all the time—”

she was on him in a second, finger jabbing into his chest. “say that again. say it again.”

he caught her wrist, hard enough to make her flinch—but just for a second. “you wanna hit me now? is that what this is?” his voice dropped into something dangerous. “you think i’m scared of you?”

“no,” she spat. “i think you’re scared of being fucking useless. that’s why you’re always trying to swing your dick around. to make up for the fact you keep screwing up.”

something snapped in his eyes—sharp, violent. “keep pushing me. see what happens.”

she didn’t blink. “already did. still nothing.”

they stood there, faces inches apart, rage vibrating between them like a live wire. neither moved. neither gave in. both of them breathing hard, jaws locked.

then, without a word, she yanked her arm free and stormed out of the garage. the door slammed behind her hard enough to rattle the frame.

@ . !

by the time she reached the bowling alley, her throat hurt from yelling. her boots clacked across the sticky floor as she passed the empty lanes, not sparing a glance at the clatter of pins echoing faintly in the distance.

she pushed the office door open without knocking.

baek jin didn’t look up.

“tell me again why we keep seong je around,” she said flatly, tossing herself onto the couch like a stormcloud ready to ruin the day.

baek jin wrote something on his notebook. “he does what you can’t.”

“like lose stolen merchandise?” she snapped, dragging a hand through her hair. “god, he’s insufferable.”

baek jin finally turned, leaning back slightly in his chair, eyeing her with calm indifference. “what happened now?”

“phones,” she groaned. “ten of them. gone. one of his half-brained cronies got rolled. didn’t even stash them properly.” her voice cracked under the weight of exhaustion and rage. “and he blames me for being too uptight.”

“because yelling solves everything,” baek jin muttered, returning to his notebook.

she flopped onto her side, legs draped across the arm of the couch, one arm thrown over her eyes. “he called me a bitch, jin. a condescending one. like he even knows what that word means.”

“probably heard it in a movie.”

she let out a tired laugh—just one breath of amusement. “he looked like he was gonna throw something.”

“you look like you already did.”

she pulled his jacket from the back of the couch and draped it over her legs. “i hate him.”

“you don’t.”

“i do.”

“no, you don’t.”

silence.

then, more quietly: “...he scares me sometimes.”

baek jin didn’t respond right away.

“then don’t fight fire with fire,” he said eventually. “you’ll both burn.”

she stared at the ceiling, lips pressed thin.

and maybe she was burning. maybe she'd been burning for a while.

the minutes ticked by in a slow crawl, thick with that kind of silence only known between two people used to each other’s noise. she had cooled on the outside—no more fire, no more raised voice—but inside, the coals still glowed red. she hadn’t moved from the couch. one leg was curled underneath her, the other bouncing softly as she scribbled something into her notebook.

her phone sat to her right, flipped over. a math worksheet lay to her left, partially filled, and next to it was a half-eaten bag of shrimp chips. baek jin was back at his desk, eyes flicking between his work and the occasional glance at her page whenever she cursed under her breath.

“that one’s wrong,” he murmured.

“i knew it,” she muttered, erasing with unnecessary force. “this whole formula’s stupid.”

“no,” he said, typing lazily, “your distribution is stupid. the formula’s fine.”

“thanks for the confidence boost,” she shot back, but there wasn’t much bite in her tone.

“anytime.”

@ . !

they worked like that for another hour or two—sprawled in silence, occasionally interrupted by the click of a pen, the flick of a page, or a question about variables. it felt weirdly domestic. familiar.

until the office door creaked open.

she didn’t look up. didn’t need to. she knew the weight of that silence the second it walked in.

footsteps. slow. heavy. the scrape of worn sneakers on tile.

then something hit the floor beside her with a loud thud.

a duffle bag.

she looked up.

seong je stood a few feet away, breathing hard. his white school shirt was torn near the collar, buttons misaligned like he’d thrown it back on in a rush. his tie was missing. his lip was split and barely crusted over. blood had dried in a streak down his cheek, and his knuckles were red and raw—some cracked open, others bruised deep violet.

but it was the eyes that made her stop.

not angry. not cocky. not blank, either.

tired. steady.

he didn’t say a word.

she blinked, then glanced down at the bag. the zipper was half open—just enough for her to see the corner of a phone box. then another. and another.

all ten were in there.

baek jin stood up from his desk, slowly walking over. he opened the bag fully and confirmed it, counting silently. “you got them all back?”

seong je didn’t answer. just nodded, once.

“alone?” baek jin asked, quieter this time.

another nod.

baek jin whistled low under his breath, impressed.

she was still looking at him. not speaking. not moving. her hand, still holding a pen, trembled faintly against the edge of her notebook.

he looked at her once. quick. just a flicker. but it was enough.

she turned back to her worksheet without a word.

the room held its breath.

seong je wiped the blood from his cheek with the back of his hand and walked toward the couch. he didn’t sit beside her. just near. close enough that she could smell sweat, smoke, and rust on his skin.

he let out a quiet breath and leaned back against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position, legs stretched out, arms resting on his knees. the buzz of the overhead light hummed back into the space between them.

she kept writing.

but she didn’t flip the page again.

after a moment, without looking at him, she reached into her tote bag and fished around. pens, a folded test paper, a lip balm, gum—and then, her hand landed on the small emergency pouch she always carried.

she pulled it out, unzipped it with one hand, and tossed a small box of bandages and antiseptic wipes toward him. it hit his leg with a soft thump.

“try not to bleed out on baek jin’s floor,” she said flatly. “he’s too lazy to mop.”

baek jin snorted from across the room but didn’t comment.

seong je glanced at the box, then up at her. for the first time all day, the corner of his mouth twitched—just barely.

she didn’t look at him.

but her foot shifted slightly in his direction, brushing the edge of his.

and for now, that was enough.

the silence that followed wasn’t tense anymore—just tired.

seong je stayed slumped against the wall for another few minutes, wrapping a few of the bandages around his knuckles with surprising precision. he didn’t speak, and neither did she. eventually, he stood again with a wince and stretched his arms out until his shoulders cracked.

“i’m heading to the pc bang,” he muttered, brushing dust off his wrinkled uniform. “if you’re planning to keep sulking, do it quietly.”

she didn’t reply.

he hesitated at the door, one hand on the knob, glancing back over his shoulder. “...i got the phones back, you know.”

“i noticed.”

“you’re welcome.”

she flipped another page in her workbook. “i already said thanks.”

he rolled his eyes and left.

the door clicked shut behind him, and with it, the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

@ . !

the last of the arcade lights flickered off, followed by the clunk of the main door locking shut. the bowling alley was quiet now—emptied out, wiped down, and dark except for the faint blue glow of the vending machine in the corner.

baek jin pocketed the keys with a sigh, shoulders rolling back in the stretch of relief that came after closing time. “we survived another day of screaming kids and gutter balls.”

she slipped on her hoodie, tugging it down to her wrists. “barely.”

“come on. i’m starving.” he nudged her lightly with his elbow. “you ate yet?”

she shook her head. “didn’t have time.”

“perfect. my treat.”

she gave him a sideways look. “your treat is always eight thousand won and spicy as hell.”

“and you always eat it like it’s nothing, so what does that say?”

she rolled her eyes but followed him anyway.

the streets were empty at this hour, just the hum of streetlamps buzzing above and the low whir of a passing bus in the distance. they walked in silence for a while, their footsteps echoing in the narrow alley that led down to the backlot where the tiny tteokbokki joint sat—half hidden behind a metal shutter and marked only by a flickering neon sign that read 분식천국.

inside, it was warm and orange-lit, the kind of place where the plastic stools wobbled and the ajumma behind the counter always gave too much fish cake.

the tteokbokki shop was quieter now, the neon sign flickering softly as the last of the steam drifted from the pan. she poked at her food, her chopsticks moving aimlessly as she avoided looking directly at baek jin. she was still annoyed—still holding that edge—but not as sharp as earlier. it was always this way, after things had settled. tension dissolved, but never fully.

baek jin picked up a piece of soondae without looking at her, his movements smooth, deliberate. he took a bite, chewing slowly, while his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than usual.

“you know,” he said after a few moments, his voice softer than it had been earlier, “you could relax every once in a while.”

she made a face, her chopsticks still hovering above the plate, and shot him a look. “relax? that’s rich coming from you.”

he shrugged, glancing out the small window at the dark alley beyond. the streetlights outside hummed, casting long shadows that filled the empty space between them. then, almost absentmindedly, he reached over and pushed the plate of rice cakes closer to her.

“i’m serious,” he said, quieter this time. “you don’t have to keep everything in motion all the time.”

her fingers tightened around her chopsticks, but she didn’t respond immediately. instead, she stole a glance at him—eyes narrowing just a little, studying him as if trying to read between his words. but he was already looking away, a subtle tilt to his head, like he didn’t mind if she didn’t take the bait.

after a beat, she finally reached for another rice cake. her hand brushed against his casually, just the barest touch, but it was enough to make her pause, fingers still lingering against his. for a second, she almost didn’t pull back, but then she did, almost reflexively, as if she hadn’t meant to stay there.

his eyes flickered to her hand, but he didn’t say anything. he just kept eating, quieter now.

she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the discomfort that crawled up her throat. “i don’t need your advice, baek jin.”

“i didn’t say you did,” he replied, voice laced with something she couldn’t quite place. was it amusement? care? it was hard to tell, but he didn’t seem fazed by her harshness. his gaze was steady, like he was trying to understand her through the quiet.

another beat of silence passed. her foot nudged against his under the table—accidental, probably. but it lingered, her heel against the side of his shoe, the warmth of her body close enough that he could feel the weight of it.

for a moment, neither of them moved. the air between them was thick in a way that wasn’t uncomfortable, just... full. heavy with things unsaid.

he cleared his throat quietly, shifting his foot away just enough for the pressure to break. she didn’t pull her foot back, though, and the moment passed without comment.

she didn’t look at him as she pushed the food around again. “you think i’m some kind of... control freak?”

“i think you don’t let people in,” he said quietly, his voice softer now, just a little too honest. “it’s like you’re always holding everything back.”

she froze for a second. his words lingered in the air, like smoke, and she could feel the weight of them, like the air had thickened.

her fingers tightened around her chopsticks, and she looked up at him, but she didn’t say anything for a long time. she wanted to snap back, to tell him he was wrong, but something in his eyes stopped her. maybe it was the way he wasn’t looking at her for a response, but just... waiting.

when she spoke, it was quieter than before. “i don’t need anyone to fix me.”

he gave her a quick, almost imperceptible smile, like he understood more than she wanted him to. “i didn’t say anything about fixing you.”

there was a beat of silence between them, but this time, it wasn’t awkward. it was just... there.

she grabbed the last piece of soondae, eating it in one bite. “i’m done. you?” she asked, her voice a little more like herself again—sharp, biting.

he smiled more openly this time. “you eat like a rat.”

she snorted, setting her chopsticks down with a little too much force. “and you’re a walking mannequin.”

when they stood up to leave, it was a little too quiet, but neither of them said much. she put her jacket on, pulling it over her shoulders with more force than necessary, like it was an armour she didn’t need.

@ . !

as they walked through the dark alley, the hum of the streetlights was the only sound between them, a quiet rhythm in the otherwise empty night. she kept her gaze forward, her hands tucked deep into her pockets, shoulders tense.

but then, that one small gesture—a simple adjustment of her collar—broke through the armor she had been building around herself all evening.

her breath caught for just a second. she hadn’t expected it. not from him. she hadn’t expected him to see her. not in this way.

his fingers barely brushed her skin, and in that moment, she felt the shift. it was like the weight she’d been carrying—unseen, unheard, but always there—just became too much to hold onto.

she didn’t stop walking, but her steps slowed, just for a moment. her heart hammered in her chest, too fast, too loud. the weight of her emotions, the ones she kept buried under layers of sharp words and brittle indifference, started to break free. slowly, quietly, without any warning. she bit her lip hard, the pressure doing nothing to stop the sting rising in her chest.

and then, just like that, she felt it. the quiet crumbling inside her. the tension, the anger, the sadness—all the things she thought she’d put away, forgotten or buried—spilled out in the form of a single, shaky breath.

she didn’t look at him. didn’t react. but something in her shifted.

then, without a word, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

she didn’t wipe it away. she didn’t speak. there was no need to. the weight of the past days, the anger, the fear, the exhaustion—it all sat heavy on her like a stormcloud.

he saw it. he always did.

and without hesitation, without asking or saying anything, he stepped forward and pulled her gently into his arms.

at first she froze, body rigid against him like she didn’t know how to be held. but then—like something inside her finally cracked—she melted forward and buried her face into his shoulder, her hands clutching the sides of his jacket.

that’s when the sobbing started.

not loud. not dramatic. just quiet, broken sounds pressed into his chest, like she was finally letting go of something she'd been carrying alone for far too long.

she was trembling.

he didn’t need her to say anything—he never did. he could feel the way her hands gripped his jacket like it was the only thing keeping her together. the weight of her against him wasn’t heavy, but it pressed into something deeper than he wanted to admit.

he’d seen her like this before. not often. only when everything else slipped.

and each time, it broke something in him he didn’t know had edges.

he didn’t ask what was wrong. he just held her tighter, like maybe if he stayed still enough, long enough, she’d remember she wasn’t alone.

that was enough for him. for now.

✶ ᶻz .ᐟ , one .. two .. three ??

#geum seong je x reader x na baek jin #weak hero class #weak hero class 2 #weak hero class x reader #weak hero class 2 x reader #na baek jin #na baek jin x reader #geum seong je #geum seong je x reader #seong je x reader #seong je x reader x baek jin #x reader #kdrama x reader #k drama #kdrama #aleese1111

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frombookstoretobookstore · 2 months ago

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Call Sign: Half Caff : Part One

(Alright I’m new to writing please don’t judge me. I HAD to start writing because of The Pitt. Mild spoilers if you haven’t finished the show)

TW: reader is attacked at the end. I had to make it dramatic sorry.

Part Two : Masterlist

She’s putting almost all of her focus into refilling her coffee mug, she hardly notices him entering the small cafe. It isn’t until he plops his travel mug onto the counter before her that she looks up from staring at the precious coffee falling into her mug. She raises an eyebrow at him as she sets her mug down and holds her hand out for his.

“Evening Half Caff.” He smirks, using his call sign for her. Her short stature and reliance on caffeine had only caused him to double down on the nickname. When she had first protested it.

She only grunts as she fills his mug from the coffee pot sitting on the edge of the counter. She hands it off to him as she grabs a tray of various baked goods sitting on top of the espresso machine and he follows her as she moves to set them up at the folding table that’s dragged out for these meetings.

Every Thursday night the local coffee shop closes its doors to customers and opens it for the local Veteran’s Affair office. One a week, veterans of all ages and branches gather. Part of the night is devoted to mingling, friends old and new talking about their week. The second part of the night has a darker hue. Chairs are dragged to the middle of the shop and set up in a circle. It reminds y/n of an alcoholics anonymous meeting: everyone sharing the tragedies they’ve witnessed, the fellow comrades they’ve lost both overseas and at home, and the struggle of integrating back into civilian life after having been in some of the toughest conditions the world has to offer.

It’s how her and Jack met. Not that she’d ever seen combat or boot camp. Not in terms of military service at least. After struggling with her mental health, her therapist had recommended volunteer work, something routine and low stakes that wasn’t another job. She’d offered to donate her time to her local coffee shop, setting up and taking down for group activities twice a week. A book club on Tuesdays, and the veteran meetings on Thursdays. She’d often help set up and take down for special events the café held; like when the middle school’s theater club had asked to borrow the space for brainstorming set design.

Jack’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at her, noting her usual cheery appearance gone and replaced with sharp sarcasm and deflection.

“Not enough caffeine?” He asks her, noting her usual grace being replaced with something that resembles stomping.

“You’ve got another one tonight. Blue sweatshirt on your six.” She nods over to where a newcomer has caught one of the older vets in conversation.

“Oh no. That’ll be the third one this month.” Jack groans as he notices the cocky behavior of the kid who must only be twenty. His army buzz haircut still fresh. He leans against the wall next to the table. Trying to hide his smirk behind his cup as she continues to grumble while setting out more muffins and scones next to the containers of coffee.

They referred to these kind of people as “OMBs” or ‘one-month babies’. These individuals got the wrong idea of war from obsessing over army video games as young kids and teenagers. Often coming from heavy right leaning families, these individuals joined the numerous branches of armed service not to serve their country, but to fuel their ego. These meetings had been hosts to numerous individuals who were more upset that they hadn’t had the chance to shoot someone, than they were over the small stipend they received once back on US soil.

“How bad?” Jack said, turning to her as she braces her hands on the table. She winces and sighs.

“Three weeks on a German base as custodial. I think boot camp has been the hardest thing he’s been through.” She turns and crosses her arms, glaring at the back of the kid.

“So, nothing compared to the rest of these guys.” He smiles and raises his coffee mug as a familiar army buddy of his passes to grab a seat.

“Oh, my fucking god.” She hisses though gritted teeth. Jack winces as he watches the kid toss a muffin wrapper on the floor as he continues talking, the two vets he’s dragged into conversation raise their eyebrows and share a look.

“Damn, if I didn’t work, I’d take you to dinner tonight to make up for his bullshit.” She laughs at his joke. They’ve made this joke for months; often joking about getting dinner after the meetings despite Jack working the nightshift at the hospital just down the road. Y/n gives him a once over, secretly enjoying the way Jack’s black scrubs look, his white badge a stark contrast to the rest of his outfit.

“Hit him with the one two guilt trip.” She all but sneers, causing Jack to laugh into his mug. He holds it out and she refills it.

“That bad huh?” He turns to her with a smile, she smirks up at him.

“He called me ‘coffee girl’. If you don’t take it off, I’m ripping it off and throwing it at him after a fat knuckle sandwich.”

“Alright easy Half Caff, go read your book behind the register and I’ll see what I can do.” He bumps her with his shoulder as he shoots her a smile and makes his way to gather with everyone else in the middle of the dining area.

The meeting starts as they usually do. Jeremy, a navy veteran who did two tours, opens the conversation with his usual story. How he lost three of his friends overseas to violence, and one here in the states as they succumbed to their PTSD and trauma.

Jack shoots a look over to y/n behind the register as the new kid, Ben, immediately starts a rant about how more violence is needed. Jack starts to see red as Ben goes on about using violence to thwart foreign governments and the need for additional troops to bring down resistance to US soldiers.

Jack leans forward in his chair, rubbing at his calf. He interrupts Ben, “What’s the worst thing you saw while over there in Germany?” He doesn’t look up to see Ben’s reaction as he rolls his pant leg up slowly.

When he’s met with silence he looks up and finds the new kid staring at his leg as Jack slowly removes his prosthetic. He massages the spot where his mid-calf and the prosthetic rub, an irritant he knows will never go away. The new kid only opens and closes his mouth like a fish.

“That bad huh?” Jeremy says, covering a small laugh with a cough as he catches on to what Jack is doing. Ben clears his throat and looks away as Jack replaces the prosthetic, offering the kid a small smile. Another vet launches into a story on his struggles reintegrating into civilian life, having only been back from Iraq for two weeks.

Jack glances back to the register where y/n offers a small smirk and mouths ‘thank you’ to him, he nods. He’s thankful for her, not many civilians understand the struggles of coming back, of facing the music. She’s dealt with OMBs almost as much as he has, something he struggles to accept. He often brings these individuals up to his therapist. How can someone who got so lucky in their overseas assignment get so angry they didn’t see the true horrors of war?

The meeting wraps up and he stands to stretch his back. He makes his way back to y/n for one last top off on his coffee mug. She fills his mug over the register and smiles.

“Be safe Lance Corporal.” She says with a smirk, he smiles. She often throws out whatever army rank she can remember when referring to him. Something he’s sure is payback for her Half Caff nickname. Something he considers her callsign.

“Always am Half Caff. See you next Thursday.” He secures the lid on his travel mug and raises it in thanks. He leaves the café and turns right, making his way towards the hospital to relieve the day shift workers.

She chuckles and shakes her head as he leaves. She begins to busy herself with clean up, gladly accepting help from Jeremy as she and the café owner, GiGi, start to put everything back into its rightful place.

Sometime later, the café is back to normal, chairs and tables back to their places, dishes washed, and coffee mugs stacked neatly and ready for the following morning rush.

“Can you grab the trash? I’ll take out the recycling in a bit before I lock up.” GiGi says, sweeping her hair out of her face as she jots down notes for the morning crew.

“On it!” Y/n calls as she grabs one of the bags and swings the other over her shoulder, backing into the back room to toss the garbage out into the dumpsters of the back alley.

She’s too busy making a to-do list in her head to see it coming. She tosses one bag into the open dumpster from the top of the small staircase and is about to throw the other when she’s grabbed from behind and wrenched into the guardrails.

She groans as she’s thrown down the rest of the stairs, a well-aimed punch lands on her jaw, and she sees white as the pain burns through her body. She’s so out of it she barely feels the two kicks bash her ribs in, her breath becoming ragged.

She gasps on the ground, gravel digging into her side and cutting her face. Her vision swims as she sees the quickly receding footsteps as whoever attacked her runs off. She wheezes, her mouth gaping as she tries to call for help.

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

Idk, y'all want part two?

#dr abbot x reader #jack abbot fanfic #jack abbot imagine #the pitt 2025 #shawn hatosy #jack abbott #jack abbot x female reader #jack abbot x reader #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt hbo

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comatosebunny09 · 2 months ago

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not quite human [ 01 ] | sylus

— summary: the led in his temple whirls a soft yellow before returning to its usual, tranquil blue. “my name is sylus.” it doesn’t sound as silly coming from him. rolls off his tongue like the steady push and pull of waves against the shoreline. it’s comforting in a way. disarming. maybe you’re not as bad at naming things as you think.

— cw: reader implied to be femme, gendered terms, alcohol, profanity, sarcasm, innuendoes, allusions to robot sex, sylus is an android, futuristic au

— notes: heavily influenced by detroit: become human, @asirensrage, and my own horny, thirsty thoughts. tysm for reading. please enjoy! [ part 02 ]

Stiff.

You crave something stiff to ease the ache between your shoulders, the grind of your teeth, and the pounding in your temples as you step into the car garage’s elevator.

You let your shoulders drop with an exhale as the doors slip shut after punching your desired floor into the holographic panel. The lift lightly jostles to begin its ascent. You close your eyes against the blaring, fluorescent lights overhead, leaning against the rail, your head colliding with the wall behind with a muted thunk.

Days like these, you come closer and closer to dropping your resignation letter. You should feel fortunate—you have a job in a world where unemployment is on the rise. Doesn’t mean a desk job is as cushy as it seems. You have carpal tunnel and a splitting migraine as testament to your woes. Plus, you don’t drink enough water. Dumb ass.

The elevator reaches its destination, a tinny, mellifluous voice announcing your floor from the intercom overhead. As if you shoulder the world, you drag yourself from the lift, stalking through the quiet, sepia-toned hallway like something undead.

You picture the bottle of Don Julio waiting for you on your counter. Can practically taste it as you round the bend towards your apartment. But something brown and bulky catches your eye, obscuring your door and slowing your steps.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, squinting as you approach it. You step around the ominous box to scrutinize it further. It’s so huge that it barely grazes the top of your doorframe and is almost the width of it.

You don’t recall ordering anything, especially something so massive. You scour the box’s surface for any indication of where it could’ve come from—a return address, a telltale logo, a note. Something. When your search doesn’t yield any answers, you sigh, stomping your feet and flailing your arms around like a child.

“I don’t have time for this,” you say through a glower, slipping off your bag.

The box obstructs your apartment, so you have one of two choices: shove it out of the way into the midst of the hallway for someone else to deal with, or muscle it through your door and deal with it inside. The former seems like it’ll take more effort, given that there’s little to no wiggle room between the cut of your doorframe and the box for you to squeeze into.

Resigned, you drop your bag and ruck up your sleeves. After unlocking your door with your biometrics, the soft spill of clean linen and lavender from inside motivating you, you prepare yourself to shove this ridiculously huge thing into your home.

Your intentions are good. But it’s so fucking heavy, it barely budges an inch.

“What the fuck!” you grate, kicking the box as if it’ll solve all your problems. That proves to be a mistake, and you comically hop around, clutching your smarting foot.

You glare at the box when the pain subsides, caught in a stare down with an inanimate object like a cowboy in an old, filmy western. You’re no bitch. Sure, you really should exercise more—you’ve been paying for a gym membership for the past year that you haven’t touched. Maybe this wouldn't be such a task if you had a bit more muscle. But you refuse to be bested by a fucking box. A box that stands between you and a stiff one.

So, you shove, shimmy, and tilt it every way you can until you’ve managed to get it through your doorframe and into your home. I’m proud of myself, you think as you dust off your hands like you’ve done some real work. You only cried twice, had one existential crisis, one meltdown, and you didn’t have to call the fire department to help you this time. You’re making progress.

You slip past the enormous thing, nearly losing a nipple in the process. Kick off your heels, the motion-sensing lights triggering as you make a beeline for your minibar. You snatch up a whiskey glass and your decanter, watching the liquid gold slosh about like a man deprived of water in the desert.

Panting, you down the contents of the glass in one go. It’s a good burn, a reward for all your efforts, and you sweep some sweat-slicked hair out of your face, leaning against your counter to catch your breath. It is here that you take time to appraise the box, wishing you could burn holes into the damn thing with your glare alone.

Whoever sent this is trying to fuck with you, you just know it. You haven’t a clue what’s inside, and you’re not even sure if it’s yours. But you put in all this effort to shoulder it into your home. So, you snatch up a box cutter from your miscellaneous utility drawer, brandishing it as you approach the box like a maniac about to carve up someone’s face.

You cut away at the tape securing the edges, cackling like a madwoman. Jared Leto would be proud. You pull and snatch at the cardboard, the sound of the carnage, the only noise inhabiting your still apartment. When you’ve eviscerated the box, packing popcorn and plastic strips strewn everywhere like entrails, you’re met with a white, featureless pod inside.

It’s half the size of the box it came in, the jaundiced gleam of your entryway light bouncing off its pristine surface. Suspicious, you hop back to squint at it. If it were a bomb, it surely would’ve gone off by now, what with you shaking the damn thing like a vending machine refusing to give you candy. What on earth could this be? And why the fuck do you have it?

Shrugging, you approach the pod, poking at it with a broom and a pot lid held to your face as a makeshift shield. The pod doesn’t respond to your prodding—no surprise there. You toss down your weapons, and with anxiety welling in your throat, you smooth your hands over the pod’s cool surface, searching for an entry point.

You trigger something in your exploration, a light beep causing you to stiffen. You scramble back as the pod whirs to life, hissing with an exhalation of air, smoke pouring from its seams.

Fuck, you think, squeezing your eyes shut, this might be the end. And to think, you’ve watched so many horror movies telling you why you shouldn’t touch ominous shit. Oh well. You’ve lived a good life. Although, you’re still low-key upset you didn’t get to try shrooms at least once.

The smoking and hissing subside, and you cough in their wake, waving your hand to ward them off. You open an eye, the pod’s door fully raised, and as the fog clears, you’re met with the sight of…a man, curled up inside in the fetal position like a Pokémon.

“Um?”

You kneel before this being that looks too big to be stuffed into the pod like an action figure, and you study him.

A riotous mop of white hair sits atop his head, though it’s coiffed in a way that works for him. His eyes are closed beneath manicured, silver brows, peacefully fringed by dark lashes. You next notice his nose, carved in a Roman god’s image. Full, rouge lips sit amid chiseled features, stretched over summery skin. Despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, you poke his cheek, surprised to feel your nail sinking into what feels like flesh.

“Oh no. He’s hot.”

His physique shows through the tailored hug of his suit, like a man destined to work on a farm, tending to horses, or a fruit stand. Further scrutiny yields something that makes your lips purse. The telltale, blue armband glows on his bicep. You shoot up as if taking a hot poker in the ass.

“An android?” you query under your breath, thoroughly confused. “The fuck do I need one of these for?”

Tapping your lip, you pace your living room, scrolling through the catalog of your mind for who could’ve possibly sent you a gift from CyberLife. And an expensive one, at that. You’ve seen this model before—a prototype advertised on every billboard and mode of public transport in the city, yet to be released to the masses. Only three of them have been created so far. How’d you manage to get your hands on one of them?

You snatch up your phone, urgently swiping through your contacts. You think maybe it’s your mother’s doing. She’s known for sending you spur-of-the-moment shit. But she can’t navigate her way around a phone without help, let alone figure out how to order you a top-of-the-line Ken doll.

Maybe it’s your father. But he’d rather chew glass than send you anything practical. Your friends, maybe? They could’ve scrounged some money together to buy you a gift. They have been bitching about you needing to get laid, and what better way to orchestrate that than by sending a fucking sex bot?

Before you can draw up the group chat, the whirring of machinery and fans makes you jolt, your phone clattering on the floor. Your attention snaps to the source of the sound, another plume of smoke pouring from the pod to obscure the sight of your new…friend.

If you die from smoke inhalation, you’re going to haunt these halls and tip every painting in every apartment sideways just to fuck with people.

When the new cloud of mist dissipates, you’re ramrod stiff and petrified in the face of this skyscraper of a man.

He smells of sterile walls and clean oil, his face an impassive mask as he takes in his surroundings with striking, scarlet eyes. His model number glows a serene white on his right breast pocket, CyberLife’s triangular logo pulsing on the left. As if it weren’t already obvious he was a bot, a small, circular LED gleams blue on his temple to signify that he’s…on? Operational? Scaring you shitless?

When he’s done processing his surroundings, those sharp eyes land on you. And you would shit yourself if not for the facsimile of a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. It’s like it hurts him. Doesn’t at all look natural amid his insanely handsome features.

“Um,” you start, waving a cautious hand, “hi?”

“Hello,” he says, the pleasant purr of his voice curdling low in your stomach. “I am a fourth-generation SLX900 Android. I can look after your house, cook, mind your children, and organize your appointments.”

You watch him with your mouth spilling open as he goes through his initialization spiel. He’s broad-shouldered and big, and you bite your lip against a laugh, imagining this hulk of a machine in your kitchen in a frilly, pink apron, scrubbing your dishes.

“I speak 300 languages, and I am entirely at your disposal as a sexual partner—”

Heat blooms in your face. You wave your hands frantically, signifying that he skips past the intimate bits. You’re down atrocious, but you don’t think you’d ever fuck an android. Not that he doesn’t look breedable. Besides, how do they even—

“No need to feed or recharge me. I am equipped with a quantum battery that makes me autonomous for 173 years.” The android straightens, clasping his hands together behind his back. “Would you like to give me a name?”

The way he recites his lines with such cold, indifferent precision makes a thrill echo down your spine. You know that CyberLife designed these things to be as human-like as possible. You’ve worked with a few of them; their uncanny valley composure gives you the heebie jeebies.

Despite the calm burr of his voice, there’s something about him—something spuming beneath the layers of circuitry and memory cards and wiring—that unsettles you.

So hung up in your ruminations, you forget that he asked you a question.

“Would you like to give me a name?” he parrots, tone as even as the first time.

“Um, yeah, sure…”

You tap your chin in thought, studying the incandescent lights overhead as if they can yield you an answer. Names have never been your forte. If it were up to you, you’d call everything as you saw it—Hey, I’m gonna name you Plant. You? Plant 2. And you? Dickhead.

You don’t know how the name comes to you, but you regurgitate it before you can give it much thought. “Sylus.”

The LED in his temple whirls a soft yellow before returning blue. That terrifying smile reemerges, splitting his face in twain like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. You flinch, wishing he’d never smile like that again.

“My name is Sylus.” It doesn’t sound as silly coming from him. Rolls off his tongue like the steady push and pull of waves against the shoreline. It’s comforting in a way. Disarming.

He blinks after the grin slips from his mouth, traded for something less creepy. Scans over you as if committing your face to his internal storage. His lips slightly part, hovering over a question. Had you known any better, you’d have mistaken him for being pensive.

“And what might I call you, Miss?”

You give him your name, toying with your fingers like a shy teen. He repeats it like a gentle praise, rolling the syllables around in his mouth. The heat in your skin burns tenfold. Why does everything this guy says sound so fucking hot?

A few moments escape between the pair of you. You’re looking everywhere but at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious beneath his calculating gaze. The light whir of his internal fans competes with that of your pulsing heart.

You laugh nervously, attempting to break the tension. “So, uh…what do I do with you? Do I, like, water you like a plant? Am I not supposed to feed you past midnight, or…”

He chuckles, the sound of it more human-like than anything he’s said thus far. “I can do whatever you need me to do. I am at your disposal.”

Don’t know why, but your mind automatically goes to the gutter. Get it together, you hornball. Horny jail for you. Bonk!

The tense silence stretches for a beat longer. Your newest guest surveys your living room with quiet judgment. “Why don’t I begin with straightening up your home? Would that be a good place to start?”

You blanch. Your living room looks like utter shit. Clothes sit on every surface like your dryer threw up—they’re clean, you swear. Errant bowls and drinking glasses litter your coffee table and kitchen island. A few cartons of Chinese takeout sit on your counter like decorations. You’re mortified. Sure, he’s a machine. But you would die if anyone saw you living like this, machine or not.

“Heh…I swear, it’s not normally like this. I’ve been working, ya know? Don’t really have time to clean.”

Sylus smirks, a dimple cratering his synthetic cheek. That looks more genuine than that constipated shit he gave you earlier. “Well, that is where I come in, Miss. I won’t judge you for your questionable habits. It’s not in my programming.”

You watch the android step off, bending to turn on your robotic vacuum cleaner before getting to work. He moves around your home with efficient grace, a rehearsed ease as he tidies up as if that’s his sole purpose.

Something warm spills into your belly. You’ve never been one to stand idly by while people take care of you. Never been one to keep your hands clean, always itching to help in any way possible. Burning to feel useful. So, you start picking up your home with your shiny new android friend, working beside him in somewhat comfortable harmony.

Maybe he isn’t such a terrible surprise after all. That logic goes out the window when he picks up one of your thongs, twirling it around his slender figure with a smug shine to his eyes.

You snatch it from him, telling him to leave the clothes to you, burning like a tea kettle. CyberLife thought of everything, didn’t they?

Crickets chirp beyond your window, chorusing with the steady rustle of the grass and leaves. The moon sits high in the inky sky, stars dotting the violet canvas like spilled milk. The city outside bustles with nightlife, androids and humans walking the streets side by side as if they’ve always coexisted in monotonous harmony.

#sylus x non mc reader #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #love and deepspace #android!sylus au

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happilyhertale · 1 year ago

Text

Fire and blood - Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Author’s note: Before I got into my usual summary, this fic is part of a collab with a bunch of my lovely moots! @lady-phasma came to us with an ask about period sex and Daemon and being as lovely as she is, she offered us all the chance to collab on it. Choosing our own characters and how to play the story.

Please find the masterlist of everyone's fics here.

English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Summary: You haven't been married to your husband Daemon Targaryen for very long - but you've learnt to enjoy your marriage to the Rogue Prince. But unlike normality, you haven't sought out Daemon for a few affectionate visits throughout the day, and that makes him suspicious…

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Period smut; fingering (f in v), p in v sex - implied

Word count: 2.2 k

Other stories of mine

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Daemon opens the door, but only darkness reveals itself to him. He raises his eyebrows slightly, but steps into your shared chambers. He is looking for his wife, who has been by his side for several moons now.

During this time, he has already become accustomed to you seeking him out throughout the day, sometimes just to get a little peck and sometimes because you want to tell him something - but today you have not sought him out.

His heavy footsteps sound in your chambers as he walks further inside.

"Are you hiding from me, woman?" he murmurs.

He walks over to a small table with fruit and sweet dishes on it. He takes a bunch of grapes between his fingers before letting them disappear into his mouth.

"Has another moon gone by?" he asks into the room and turns to your bed, where he recognises the outline of a figure under the covers. A slight grin plays around his lips before he walks towards the bed.

But as he gets closer, he picks up an unusual scent.

"What's that smell?" he asks.

And suddenly your voice rings out, "It's oak bark tea... My abdomen is a cramp," you mumble from under the covers.

He's still smiling and comes closer to the bed.

"What have we got here? I wonder what trouble could be brewing under here," he says, reaching lightly for the blanket.

"No... Go away," you say quietly and try to hold the blanket tight.

But Daemon pulls the blanket down further and kneels on the bed with one knee.

"Ah... there you are... what a view," he says sarcastically as the blanket reveals your face. Your hair lies dishevelled on the pillow, your face a little sleepily puffy as your annoyed gaze meets his. "Yes....my beautiful wife," he says and smiles. He pulls the blanket down further and a "Go away," sounds from you again.

He smiles at your words, "Why would I do that when I have such a sight in front of me?" he says, a hint of sarcasm still in his voice again.

You sigh and try to turn away, but you feel Daemon kneel down further on the bed and his hand grips you gently.

"Ah, ah, ah," he says and lies down next to you, his arm wrapped around your middle.

His warm breath brushes the back of your neck as he presses his face into yours, "What's wrong," he whispers.

You sigh again and already feel his large, surprisingly warm hand on your abdomen... a warm touch of your dragon.

"I'm bleeding..." you say almost inaudibly, but Daemon hears your words and smiles slightly. He knows how you feel during your period. You're vulnerable and sleepy. The cramps force you to lie down and only warmth and strange teas from the maesters give you some relief... well, and other things.

But you're his wife and according to him, you should always feel carefree - but he can't refrain from teasing you a little.

"Pardon?" he whispers, smiling slightly, while you sigh lightly again.

"I'm bleeding..." you repeat your words and mumble into your pillow.

"Love..." he whispers again.

You close your eyes and feel this inner tension that tickles your fingertips.

"I'm on my period," you say a little louder into the pillow.

"Love... Sorry, I don't understand," Daemon replies and his lips graze your neck.

His behaviour makes you seethe, why can't he leave you alone?

"Daemon! Seven hells! I'm on my period! I'm in pain and I'm bleeding!", you call out and raise your head slightly.

He chuckles, "It's fine... no need to shout like that..."

You shake your head slightly, wanting to push his arm away, but he has a firm grip on you. His hand slides slowly downwards, his fingers make light, circular movements and you stiffen slightly.

"Daemon, what are you doing," you suddenly whisper.

"I want you to feel good, love... It'll help you relax..." he murmurs into your ear, nibbling lightly.

You gasp and hold his hand back, "Daemon... there's blood... a lot... it's the first day..." you say hesitantly.

He continues to nibble on your earlobe, his fingers sliding along your thigh, not in the least impressed by your words.

"You know there's nothing to be ashamed of. A woman's body is a natural, beautiful thing.... It's beautiful because it's you," he kisses your cheek and lets his nose glide gently along it. His hand strokes along your thigh and you feel a slight throbbing between your thighs alongside the numbing pain in your abdomen.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" he whispers, kissing the soft skin behind your ear.

You bite your lip lightly, but you shake your head slightly.

"Daemon... There really is a lot of blood..." you repeat your words quietly.

He chuckles softly again, another kiss landing on your neck, "Love... a true warrior isn't afraid of a little blood..." he murmurs.

His hand slides further, "Just relax..." he whispers and you try. Slowly, you close your eyes and try to concentrate on his touch as a heavy breath leaves your lips.

Gently, he kisses your neck and shoulder as he holds you close."It's nothing to be ashamed of either. Especially not my wife. It's natural," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers pull your nightgown up, very slowly. His fingers leave a fiery trail on your thigh and you try to ignore the dull ache that runs through your abdomen.

You can't suppress it, your hips begin to move in slight circular motions as his fingers glide through your pubic hair, caressing you. You gasp as you can already feel his arousal from behind as he presses himself lightly against you.

His fingers reach their destination, slowly running along your folds, and you gasp again – your legs spread slightly.

"That's it... I'll take care of you..." he whispers in your ear and you nod slightly.

The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers find your pearl and apply light pressure. Your legs spread wider and a smile graces his lips.

"Daemon..." you gasp.

"I know..." he whispers, nibbling on your earlobe again as his fingers rub gently over your clit.

"Your body is natural and beautiful. Even in all its bloody glory," he whispers and you nod, your breathing quickening.

He kisses you on the cheek again as his fingers tease over your glistening entrance, gently spreading your folds.

You feel the familiar stretch as his fingers slide inside you. But not all the way in, he teases you a little and you exhale heavily, your hips moving towards his fingers, longing for his touch. And then he fulfils your craving – his fingers stretch your walls, trying to find a good angle, pushing deeper. He revels in the slickness that coats his fingers, the evidence of your arousal mingling with the blood that flows.

"Feel how wet you are for me," he whispers teasingly, his smile pressing against the back of your neck.

"Daemon!" you gasp, but also a small moan leaves your lips.

He chuckles briefly, but your concentration is once again fully on his movements as his fingers penetrate deeper.

"Gods..." you gasp and he grins. Slowly, but firmly, his fingers push forward. He can feel your walls clench, longing for release.

"You know I love all the sounds you make, but I love your moans the most. I can feel your walls tighten around my fingers as if your body wants to hold me inside you while I make you tremble..." he whispers in your ear.

You moan again as his thumb grazes your pearl. He continues his expert ministrations, he is determined to make you forget the discomfort, to lose yourself in a wave of pleasure that only he can provide.

His fingers curl inside you, beckoning you as his thumb presses against your clit again. You press your arse against his hardness and he moans into your neck. As he feels your hips moving towards his fingers, urging for more, he complies, increasing the intensity of his movements. He curls his fingers, angling them to hit that sweet spot within you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild with desire.

"Moan for me…" he commands, his voice laced with dominance, "Let me hear your pleasure, let it echo through these chambers."

And you obey as his fingers thrust deeper. He bites into your neck as his fingers tease your walls. His fingers continue their exploration, delving deeper inside you, seeking out the spots that make you writhe with pleasure. He maintains a steady rhythm, his touch skilled and attentive to your body's responses.

Smacking noises echo in your chambers as his fingers pump in and out faster. His fingers sliding in and out of your wetness with ease. With each thrust of his fingers, he can feel the slickness and warmth of your arousal, heightening his own desire.

He starts to apply more pressure and lets a third finger slide in. He knows what you like and he gives it to you the way you need it. He stretches your walls while they continue to clench around his fingers. Daemon's eyes gleam with a mixture of desire and possessiveness as he feels your response to his touch. He revels in the power he holds over your pleasure, his fingers moving with a practiced precision.

"Oh, my sweet wife," he murmurs, the words laced with a mixture of possessiveness and anticipation. "You are so responsive, so eager for my touch."

His body presses against yours, his hard length grinding against your backside as he continues to pleasure you with his fingers. His lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. Your fear of smearing him with your blood is forgotten, you need more.

"Daemon... Daemon," you whimper again and again, your arm reaching back, to the back of his head. Your fingers reach into his silky hair and he grunts. As he continues to drive you towards the peak of pleasure, Daemon's own desire grows, his need for release becoming undeniable. But at this moment, he's focused solely on your pleasure, on taking you to the edge and beyond, on helping you forget your discomfort.

"Yes... my love... Come on, come on my fingers, milk them like you always milk my cock when I fuck that delicious cunt," he growls into your neck.

And that pushes you over the edge. You cry out, your walls tightening around his fingers and Daemon grunts out.

You whimper, your hand gripping his hair tighter as he kisses your neck. Your eyes are closed, your breathing rapid as he pulls his fingers out when your walls stop clenching. A pleasant warmth flows through your abdomen, soothing away the pain more effectively than every maester's tea could.

As you catch your breath, you glance slightly over your shoulder and look at Daemon. He chuckles as he looks at his fingers, they're covered in blood.

"This is a sight I couldn't have imagined at the beginning of the day..", he kisses your neck again, "But I'm going to enjoy it“, he whispers into your ear.

"Daemon, no!" you say with wide eyes.

He just grins as you avert your eyes and blush. You hear the smacking sound as he licks his fingers.

But now you have to laugh as you stare at him again – his eyes are closed and he seems to be enjoying it.

"You're impossible..." you say softly as he still licks his fingers.

"Daemon, stop it!" you say and giggle, but he just grins and pulls you closer to him again.

"Delicious," he murmurs.

He starts stroking and caressing your belly again.

His breathing slows down as he holds you close. The sounds and smell of you, your little body in his embrace, it's almost more than he can bear at this moment.

He gently grabs your chin, as if he were holding something fragile and precious, and gently pulls your head upwards. When you return his gaze, it is gentle and tender.

"And you are my wife. You may feel sick, you may bleed, sometimes I may even be the cause of your anger. But that's all part of your body's natural rhythm. So please, my sweet girl, never hide from the pain, never keep your misery a secret. Otherwise, I promise you, it will cause me more grief than your blood..." he says gently. These moments with him are rare, but you savour them – your lovely husband. You lean towards him and let your lips slide onto his. He growls slightly and you feel his hand on your arse. You giggle slightly and feel his smile on your lips.

But the grip on your arse tightens and he pulls you towards him, positioning you perfectly against his crotch. He still can't hide his excitement and you gasp slightly. Your lips are still dancing around each other, you can feel the coppery taste on his tongue as he starts to undo his trousers. He growls again as his hand spreads your cheeks slightly and presses his hardness between your thighs from behind. You whimper as his cock slides along your folds.

"Let's see if we can give you a little more relief, shall we?" he growls against your lips and you moan as the tip of his cock presses against your slick entrance.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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s6daz · 5 months ago

Note

Hi hi! I love you’re writings💗

Can I request for g!p soft Sevika with breeding kink please? Maybe Sevika is bottom and reader just ride her and tease with idea to cum inside…

Thank you🫶🏻

♰ sevika x f!reader ִ ݁ ˖ ◜

cw: g!p sevika, sevika bottom (if u squint too much), breeding kink, teasing (from the reader), reader dominating the situation (?, porn without plot

note: i honestly don't remember much of what i wrote here but i saw it was for this request in my notes so... i hope it's what u asked for

they were a chaos of soft moans and groans. wet kisses, saliva spreading from the corner of their lips that almost reached their necks and gasps for air. your hands were firm in her hair as you moved your hips torturously over her clothing covered bulge, her hands gripping your hips, occasionally releasing moans into your mouth desperate for you.

you broke away from the hot kiss for a moment and gently licked her lower lip, sucking it softly before letting your teeth sink into the flesh of her dark lips: listening to the grunt and gasp that sevika let out, you felt how all the heat began to rise through your body.

"did you like that, love?" you teased with a tempting smile, subtly watching sevika reaction, who let out a heavy sigh before looking back at you.

"yes, i love it doll" she pronounced quickly no matter how begging she looked in front of you. "mhh should we level up?" you responded as your hands went down to the hem of her pants playing with them.

she simply nodded as if all her words had been swallowed, she leaned her head back to rest on the pillow, letting out soft sighs.

when you saw that sevika gave you permission, you moved a little to be able to take off her pants more easily. you grabbed the hem of them along with her boxers and slowly lowered them. your eyes widened with pleasure when you saw how sevika cock finally came out from her cage, the erect cock jumped against her stomach but you continued lowering the fabric down her toned thighs until you reached her knees.

"you look so pretty like this" you said looking at how sevika was breathing unevenly while her eyes were closed and you could notice the slight sweat running down her forehead, you laughed just thinking about how desperate she could be right now.

not hearing any words, you looked down at her penis, you could see that there were already droplets of precum near her tip. you smile when you see what you could provoke in sevika and slowly wrap the phallus in your hand, giving gentle movements up and down.

"does it feel good?" you ask, watching as sevika began to cling to the sheets, she simply moaned and nodded. “good girl…” you praise.

your hand continued making the movements from up to down, watching as her cock became increasingly wetter from the precum, your thumb went to her head, caressing it gently, causing sevika to shudder.

"did you just shiver, vika?" you muttered with some sarcasm, hearing her groan at your comment, clearly annoyed.

you had her at your mercy and that only makes you hornier, you don't want her to cum in your hand so you put her penis aside feeling how she was complaining when she no longer felt your heat on her circumference, slowly you moved to being able to take off your shorts easier.

you threw them to the side and since you didn't have panties you focused on sevika, trying to position yourself to feel how your skin was sticking to hers. you moved your hips, rubbing from one side to the other only on her tip and this only made sevika desperate further.

"damn it princess, put it in now" she speaks impatiently as she takes a look at you, you stopped the games since equal deep down you were desperate and you began to align her cock to your needy entrance watching those anxious eyes that watched all your movements while her stiff cock collided inside your wet center, making its way between your tight walls. you saw how she rolled her eyes and let out a subtle moan as she felt everything all your insides in her circumference.

her hands moved to your hips, squeezing them tightly. her reaction was so exquisite that you raised your hips and fell back down only to hear her cute moan again.

the intensity of the moment fueled your need to dominate her and explore every inch of her body, you leaned closer to her; "does it feel good?" you asked, knowing full well that she couldn't answer because of her euphoria.

you clung to her shoulders and began to push your hips, riding her so exquisitely that sevika would occasionally let out moans louder than normal, you weren't far behind either, the rhythm of your hips made you feel a thousand things; feeling sevika cock inside you touching all those exact points that led you to lose your sanity made you delirious.

"i-it feels so good vika" you gasp for air to fill your lungs suffocated by pleasure.

in her first attempt to control the situation, she began to push her hips in rhythm with yours, making your back hunch and you felt slight tears begin to threaten to come out.

"fuck..." she managed to formulate letting out a sigh, in response you squeezed your pussy around she making her let out a grunt. the intensity of the moment began to be noticed when the splash began to intensify and you could feel how sevika was throbbing inside you.

"so fucking perfect" she gasped as her flesh hand went down to your ass giving it a squeeze, you smiled when you the heard and leaned in to whisper to she; "do you want to cum inside?"

you could see how her eyes darkened just by mentioning being able to end up inside: since you never allowed her to. "get me pregnant, i'm sure you want it" you whispered, provoking her even more. "would you give me your cum, love?"

something clicked in sevika and her hands quickly grabbed onto your body, starting to thrust harder into you with a very great urgency. you grabbed onto her back, scratching the in her wake. the sound of skin against skin filled the room and you let out all the noises and complaints that you couldn't before.

"damn it... i'll leave my son inside you" she let out between gasps before feeling her climax approaching. jets of her semen filled your insides and uterus, making you collapse in her arms. for a few minutes, the only thing that could be heard in the room were her agitated breathing in search of air. they enjoyed the silence until you felt sane enough to to be able to move and want to take her cock out of you, if it weren't for the quick movement that sevika made you fall back into her chest.

"this is far from over, darling, i will fill you until i am sure you have my son."

#arcane lesbians #arcane season 2 #arcane x female reader #arcane x reader #arcane x you #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika #sapphic #sevika my love #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika x female reader #sevika smut #sevika season 2 #sevika save me #sevika gp #lgbtq

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cherrynflowergarden · 7 months ago

Text

જ⁀➴ bitter truths|| dealer!matt x doll!reader

sturniolo masterlist add yourself to the taglist

she was laughing, leaning against her desk as she chatted with noah, a guy from her college. her eyes sparkled as she giggled at something he said, her entire posture relaxed and comfortable in his presence. but matt, standing by the door, could feel something dark twisting in his chest as he watched them. he didn’t get jealous—but he’d seen noah around. he knew the guy. he wasn’t some harmless friend and he surely didn’t have the best intentions. and watching her so openly enjoying his company made matt’s jaw clench.

he cleared his throat loudly, catching her attention. she glanced over, her big smile faltering as she noticed the coldness in his eyes.

“oh! matt,” she said, pulling herself away from noah. “this is noah, from my psych class. he’s been helping me with some notes.”

noah nodded politely, but matt didn’t return the gesture, his arms crossed tightly, eyes narrowing. “right. helping,” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. her expression softened, her brow creasing slightly as she sensed his tension.

“can we talk?” he said, his tone stiff. “alone.” he added, bitterly eyeing noah.

she looked at noah apologetically. she barely had a chance to say goodbye before matt grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room. she could feel the anger radiating off him, heavy, simmering, the kind that made her stomach twist.

she shifted under his gaze, trying to hold her ground, but his intensity made her stomach twist.

“what the hell are you doing, doll?” his voice was cold, almost a snarl. “hanging around with a guy like him?”

she frowned, taken aback by his tone. “he’s just a friend, matt. he’s helping me with some notes—”

“a friend? you don’t get it, do you?” his voice was mocking, filled with a bitterness she hadn’t heard from him before. “people like him don’t want to be friends with someone like you. you’re just easy prey.”

her eyes widened, a hurt expression flashing across her face. “matt, why are you being so—”

“realistic?” he interrupted, eyes narrowing. “because someone has to be. you think everyone’s got some good in them, that everyone’s gonna treat you the way you treat them. but that’s not how the world works, doll. you’re too blind to see it.”

her lip trembled, but she took a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. “you’re wrong, matt. i know what he’s like with me. just because he doesn’t fit into your world doesn’t mean—”

“oh, please,” he cut in, rolling his eyes. “you really think you know what you’re doing? you don’t have a clue. you’re just letting him string you along because he’s nice to you. that’s all it takes, isn’t it?” his words were sharp, condescending. “anyone gives you a bit of attention, and you’re ready to trust them with anything.”

her face flushed, her chest tightening at his words. “i thought… i thought you trusted me, matt. trusted that i could figure things out.”

“trusted you?” he scoffed, shaking his head in frustration. “y/n, i’m just trying to keep you from getting hurt. but you’re too stubborn, too naive to see that half these people only see you as an easy target.”

the word naive cut through her like a knife, each syllable laced with disdain. “so that’s what you think of me?” her voice was barely above a whisper. “some… some helpless girl who can’t take care of herself?”

“isn’t that exactly what you’re proving right now?” he snapped, his patience finally snapping with it. “you’re so desperate for everyone to like you, so willing to see the good in people, that you don’t even realize they’re laughing behind your back. they see you as this silly soft girl they can use and toss aside.” his voice was harsh, each word landing like a blow.

tears pricked at her eyes, but she held them back, swallowing hard. “i… i thought you saw me differently.”

he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “doll, you’re… you’re sweet, alright? you’re too sweet for your own good. ‘t’s gonna ruin you if you don’t learn to see through people like him. and right now, you’re just proving me right. you’re proving you don’t get how people are.”

she flinched, his words making her chest ache. “maybe… maybe i don’t want to see people the way you do, matt. maybe i want to believe in people. i thought you’d get that.”

“get that?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “’m done trying to understand why you’re so determined to get hurt. you don’t get it, do you? you’re weak and you refuse to see it. you refuse to admit that you need someone to watch out for you.”

the words echoed in her mind, his voice searing into her heart. weak. naive. silly. and what hurt her the most was how he addressed her by her name and not as doll. she felt a tear slip down her cheek and quickly wiped it away, but matt didn’t soften, didn’t reach out to her.

for a moment, she couldn’t even speak, her throat tight with unshed tears. “if that’s really how you see me, then… maybe you don’t know me at all.” her voice was shaky, laced with hurt she couldn’t hide.

he watched her, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t move. he didn’t apologize or reach out to stop her as she turned and walked away, each step heavier than the last. she kept her gaze down, trying to block out his words, but they echoed in her mind, relentless.

days passed. she avoided his texts, his calls, even ignored the harsh banging on her door and every attempt he made to reach her. every time she saw his name flash on her phone, her chest tightened and the hurt bubbled up again. she knew matt was protective, that he cared, but his words had felt like a betrayal, like he didn’t trust her to know what was best for herself.

an; angst bc i'm sad(⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) also tell me do we like this small title font more or the quote font one?

taglist; @mattsdolll @izzylovesmatt

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allurer23 · 6 days ago

Text

TURN THE PAGE TO US

YOU ANNOTATED MY SOUL

In Focus: Mark Lee × Reader

Synopsis: You and Mark Lee: two English Lit majors, one department, zero peace. You can quote The Waste Land by heart, and so can he—but your shared talent for verse usually ends in verbal warfare. Forced to co-lead a competitive research project, Mark’s infuriating intelligence and maddening focus drive you up the wall. Yet, rivalry softens into playful banter, and late study sessions stretch longer than expected. Turns out, the line between rivalry and something softer is written in pencil—easily erased, effortlessly rewritten.

Warnings: Rivals to lovers, Explicit sexual content / verbal kink, Mentions of sexual tension, arousal, and suggestive dialogue, Dom/sub implications (voice kink, praise/degradation mix), Consensual power play, Intense academic rivalry dynamic, Emotional repression / internalized longing, Some strong language (casual swearing), Alcohol (minor party scene), Academic stress / intellectual elitism, Brief reference to being interrupted post-kiss, Heavy use of literary references / sarcasm / metaphor, No actual smut scenes occur, but it’s very hot

Author’s Note:

This is the first footnote in TURN THE PAGE TO US—because nothing screams ‘healthy coping mechanism’ like falling for the one person who annotates your entire existence.”

I didn’t mean to write something this long, but apparently, Mark Lee + academic rivalry + literary thirst = me losing all control. This ended up way longer than planned, and I still haven’t finished it—so I’m posting it in two parts.

This is Part 1, guys

You can read Part 2 here

This is for the girls who annotate their fantasy smut and the guys who smell like books and think arguing about Kafka counts as foreplay. This fic is messy, wordy, and borderline unhinged in the best academic way. To everyone who's ever caught feelings during a debate—this one's for you. Engagement means the world: likes, reblogs, comments, screams in the tags.

Please be 18+ if you’re reading.

"You underlined metaphors. I read between the lines. Somewhere between ink and irritation, we annotated each other."

Third coffee of the day. And I hate coffee. It tastes like existential dread steeped in burnt hope. But like Gregor Samsa waking up as a bug, I didn’t choose this life—I just…adapted. Caffeine is my metamorphosis.

Sips, grimaces, and watches Mark Lee walk in, perfectly on time, of course.

And there he is. Mark Lee. Human punctuation mark. Probably thinks the sun rises because he quoted Woolf at it. He writes like he’s got a personal vendetta against mediocrity and walks like he’s never been told he’s wrong. Spoiler alert: I’ve told him. He didn’t listen.

The academic rival I never asked for but somehow ended up stuck with since freshman year. Ever since our first clash over whether The Waste Land is genius or just a fever dream with footnotes, it’s been intellectual warfare. I don’t know why, but every time I see him, I feel this irrational irritation—like my brain knows it’s about to be challenged, and my ego's already rolling up its sleeves.

And of course, can't forget to mention his group. The ever-infamous Dream boys. The campus golden group. Seven of them, like some mythological fellowship but with more hair gel and less emotional regulation. A cocktail of charisma, chaos, and misplaced confidence.

Professor Jung walked into the classroom with the kind of smile that only meant one thing: chaos was coming. Not the scream-and-run kind. The academic kind. The kind that ruined friendships, ignited crushes, and made someone cry in the hallway after overanalyzing Jane Eyre.

“Let’s start today with a wonderful question,” he said, practically rubbing his hands together like a Bond villain with tenure. “Fate versus free will in literature.”

Of course. Of course. The kind of question that turns polite English majors into caffeinated gladiators wielding highlighters and wounded pride.

“Think Kafka’s labyrinths of absurdity or Austen’s cages of etiquette,” he continued, eyes gleaming like this was the TED Talk he'd been preparing his whole life for. “Who really writes the story—the characters, or some invisible puppeteer called fate?”

Naturally—and I mean this with every ounce of disdain in my soul—Mark Lee’s hand shot up. Instantly. Like he had been waiting for this moment since the womb. Like fate had chosen him, which is ironic, considering he clearly sides with it.

He wore that insufferable smirk—the one that made girls sigh and me want to throw a Norton Anthology at his face. His glasses glinted like they were part of some book-boy cosplay, which, tragically, only made him hotter. Tragic for me, I mean. Not the population of people who thirst after tortured literature boys who quote Woolf on first dates. (Yes, he did that. I overheard. He used To the Lighthouse. Someone really should’ve drowned him there.)

I raised my hand too. Because if Mark Lee was jumping into the ring, I was showing up with verbal brass knuckles and annotated Kafka.

We both started speaking—of course—and Professor Jung smiled like his plan to cause chaos was going exactly as intended.

“Y/n, go ahead,” he said. And I did. With glee.

“Fate? Please. That’s just what authors use when they don’t want to admit they wrote themselves into a corner. The Trial isn’t an ode to inevitability—it’s a primal scream from a man being smothered by bureaucracy and desperately trying to claw meaning out of the absurd. Free will exists. It's just ugly and panicked and gets drowned in paperwork.”

Mark’s smirk—God, that smirk—deepened. Probably because he thought he was about to say something clever. Spoiler alert: he wasn’t.

“Delusional,” he said, all smooth confidence and unjustified cheekbones. “Austen’s characters are textbook fate victims. Emma? Lizzie? They ‘choose,’ sure but only within the bounds of societal programming. It's not free will, it’s conditioned responses. Fate, just wearing a petticoat.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my ancestors. “You’re reducing character arcs to algorithms. Emma isn’t doomed—she’s flawed. And she changes. Growth is a choice, Mark Lee. Free will is messy, but that’s what makes it beautiful. Fate is a cop-out for people too afraid of consequences.”

He leaned back like he was lounging in a coffee shop, not verbally brawling in front of thirty people. “And yet the greatest tragedies rely on fate. Romeo and Juliet, Gatsby… Doomed from the start. Fate is the poetry of inevitability.”

I gave him a smile that could peel paint. “And maybe you just like sounding poetic while ignoring the fact that most tragedies are people screwing up, not the stars aligning. Gatsby wasn’t doomed. He just made garbage decisions and idealized a girl who liked shiny things.”

He adjusted his glasses like he was preparing to deliver an epiphany. “So you’re saying free will is just people being dumb?”

“Exactly,” I said, triumphantly. “Free will is people being dumb, brilliant, selfish, selfless, human. Orwell’s 1984? Winston tries. He chooses resistance. That’s the whole point. Even a doomed choice is still a choice.”

Mark tilted his head, all faux-curious. “And he’s crushed. Crushed by the inevitability of the system. Free will doesn’t win. Fate does.”

I could practically hear the air crackling. Our classmates were silent, hanging on every word like this was a courtroom drama and someone’s scholarship depended on it. Maybe mine did.

Professor Jung finally clapped his hands, grinning like a man watching two tigers fight over a Shakespearean soliloquy. “Exactly what I wanted. Good. Very, very good.”

I slumped back in my seat, heart thumping, and glared at Mark’s profile. He looked entirely too pleased with himself. His smirk. His glasses. His perfect posture, like he didn’t just ruin my blood pressure for the day.

After the verbal warzone had been declared over by Professor Jung, I packed up my notes with all the casual serenity of a boiling kettle. Mark was still smugly tucking his glasses into his collar like he hadn’t just played devil’s advocate for fate, of all things. Fate. I mean, who chooses to side with destiny in 2025?

“Y/N and Mark, please stay back,” Professor Jung said, just as I was plotting the most satisfying way to avoid him for the rest of my life.

I glanced sideways at Mark—or as I affectionately referred to him in my mind, the walking thesis footnote of my irritation. His brow arched, clearly intrigued, and I hated that it looked good on him. Could someone’s face be grammatically correct? I didn’t want to talk about it.

Once the last student dragged their bag out and the door clicked shut behind them, Professor Jung beamed like he’d been waiting to drop a literary bomb.

“I like the way you both think,” he began, steepling his fingers like some benevolent academic overlord. “You don’t just read literature—you wrestle it. Respect it. And occasionally stab each other with it.”

I said nothing, just nodded politely while standing as far from Mark as physically possible without flinging myself out the window.

“There’s an international literary conference hosted by the University at Veritas,” he continued. “It’s prestigious, competitive, and… paired.”

Mark straightened beside me like someone had just offered him a sonnet and a scholarship. I, on the other hand, was already sensing doom wrapped in MLA format.

“It’s on the notice board, but I’m telling you two specifically,” Professor Jung went on, smiling that same evil-genius smile he’d worn this morning. “Because I think—no, know—that if you teamed up, your chances of getting accepted are incredibly high.”

My brain short-circuited.

Team up?

With Mark fate-is-a-poem Lee?

We’d kill each other before we even chose a font.

“That’s… very kind of you, Professor,” I said, my voice politely strangled.

Beside me, Mark let out a soft, amused hum. Like a man already composing the opening paragraph of our academic obituary.

“I’m in,” he said. Instantly. No hesitation. Of course.

I looked at him like he’d just offered to co-author my nightmare.

“I mean,” he added, shooting me a sideways glance that felt like a challenge dressed as a compliment, “if Y/N can handle it.”

Handle what? His metaphors? His smugness? His perfectly organized notes that somehow always smell like cinnamon and ink?

“Oh, I can handle it,” I said sweetly, a dangerous smile curving on my lips. “Just don’t start talking about Austen like she’s a 19th-century NPC again and we’ll get along just fine.”

Professor Jung clapped once. “Perfect. Submit a proposal by next Friday. Surprise me.”

As we stepped into the corridor, I could already feel the words crawling up my throat like they were too irritated to stay inside.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” I muttered. “This isn’t a prize. It’s community service.”

Mark had the audacity to laugh. “I don’t know, I think we might actually work well together.”

I stopped walking. He did too, turning slightly with that same irritating eyebrow tilt like he thought this was a scene from some academic rom-com. It wasn’t.

I crossed my arms. “Meet me at 4 p.m. in the book cafe outside campus. We need to figure out a topic before your ego writes a paper all by itself.”

He gave a mock salute. “Wouldn’t dream of being late.”

Then he walked off, all easy strides and unbearable confidence, like we hadn’t just declared a ceasefire for the sake of intellectual dominance.

I stared after him, jaw clenched.

This was going to be a disaster. A well-researched, peer-reviewed, highly-cited disaster.

I walk toward the field where my so-called friends are lounging like overfed cats under the sun. Chenle’s playing basketball, all fluid limbs and annoying laughter. The rest? Already grinning like they know something I don’t. Which is impossible. Unless…

“Hey, Mark Lee,” Haechan calls, eyes glinting like he’s logged into my brain. “You look like someone tore your ego again today. Was it our Lit Queen?”

I flop down onto the grass beside them with the dramatic energy of a tragic Greek hero. “Today’s topic was free will vs. fate in literature,” I mutter, tugging blades of grass like they personally offended me. “Obviously, I sided with fate—because hello, I’m not naive enough to believe I have control over anything in life—but now I don’t know if I won or if she did or if I just got verbally suplexed by a girl in winged eyeliner.”

Haechan snorts. “Verbal suplex. That’s a new low, even for you.”

“It’s like she thrives on chaos." I continue like a man possessed. "The moment the professor mentioned fate, her eyes lit up like she was summoning literary demons just to argue.”

“She probably lives in hell, Mark. Maybe she’s just giving you directions,” Renjun says without looking up from his notebook.

“The worst part isn’t the debate,” I mumble. “It’s the fact that I’m teamed up with her. For the inter-college conference.”

That gets them. A collective gasp like I just announced I’m marrying her tomorrow.

“Oh,” Jaemin says, eyes wide. “You mean her? The girl who corrected Professor Kim when he misquoted T.S. Eliot?”

“She’s the same one who once sent Sunwoo a list of grammar corrections when he asked her out,” Haechan adds, cackling. “Imagine trying to flirt and getting a red-inked Google Doc back.”

“She brought up Plato at that party last week,” Jeno says, shaking his head. “And they were literally talking about their dating lives. I think someone asked what her type was and she went ‘philosophically or emotionally?’”

Chenle jogs up just in time to drop the final blow. “Rumor says she turned a guy down by sending him a bibliography on why she’s emotionally unavailable.”

“A bibliography?” Jisung blinks. “Like… with citations?”

“I think there was APA and MLA formats involved,” Chenle grins.

I sigh, dragging my hands down my face. “You guys don’t understand. I notice… things now. Like—like the way she rolls her eyes every time I speak. Which is always. She does this dramatic slow blink and I swear, I hear ‘disappointment’ in 4K.”

“She probably keeps a thesaurus in her bag just to judge your vocabulary,” Renjun mutters.

“And the eyeliner,” I continue like I’ve lost control of my mouth. “You know? That perfect little wing at the corner of her eye? Like she’s ready to slice me with it.”

“Oh my god,” Jaemin groans. “He’s noticing eyeliner. This is terminal.”

“She bites her pen when she’s thinking,” I say, ignoring them all now. “Like the cap is a life-or-death decision. And when she drinks coffee, she winces. She hates it. I know she does. She drinks it like it’s a punishment, not a preference. That’s not someone who likes caffeine. That’s someone who’s forcing herself to function in a coffee-drunk world.”

“You’re in deep, man,” Jeno laughs, clapping my shoulder. “You’re starting to sound like her.”

“I am not—” I stop, because, okay. Maybe I am. Maybe the worst part isn’t even being teamed up with her. Maybe it’s the fact that I can’t stop thinking about how her voice sharpens when she’s passionate about a book. Or how her handwriting looks like it belongs in some old library archive. Or how her smirk makes me want to argue with her just to see it again.

“She’s going to destroy me,” I say aloud.

“She already has,” Haechan smirks. “And we’re just here for the literary funeral.”

I walk into the book cafe and spot Mark Lee instantly—half-slouched in a corner booth, dressed like a Pinterest board for "hot literature major energy" and scrolling through his phone like he hasn’t been waiting here early on purpose.

He looks up the moment I sit across from him and slides a caramel frappuccino toward me like it's a peace offering.

“I don’t drink frappuccinos,” I say, pulling out my laptop and notebook. “Especially not ones pretending to be desserts.”

“You should,” he says smoothly, “it’s better than wincing like you're in physical pain every time you drink coffee. Just spare the Americano your judgmental stare.”

He says it like he’s read the last ten pages of my life.

Which is the worst part.

Because he kinda has.

“I’ve already chosen our topic,” I announce, ignoring his smirk. “‘The Quiet Catastrophe: Literature as a Witness to Absurdity and Human Frailty.’ It’s in line with the conference theme and—”

“Of course you chose that,” he cuts in, leaning back like he’s bracing for impact. “Tell me, what’s your word count goal this year for Kafka-Dostoevsky Existential Crisis Essays? A hundred thousand?”

I glare. “It’s a strong theme.”

“It’s a recycled theme.” He raises an eyebrow. “I'm just saying… have you considered that Franz and Fyodor might want you to move on?”

I open my mouth, then close it. Because damn it, he’s not wrong.

“I was thinking,” he continues, voice casual but eyes very not, “what if we pitched ‘Ink as Ammunition: Literature as Resistance in Postcolonial and Feminist Texts’? It’s bold, fresh, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll meet authors who don’t end their novels in total despair.”

I hate that it’s a good idea.

I hate that my face reacts before my pride does—because he sees it.

His smirk deepens.

“I don’t want to waste time arguing,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “So fine. We’ll go with your idea.”

“Wow.” He places a hand over his heart dramatically. “Mark this day, for she has spoken the word: fine.”

We fall into a silence so deep it might as well have its own heartbeat—the kind of silence that says.

I catch his brown eyes catching the light every time he lands on a good point, like he’s just uncovered some secret cheat code for the paper. His eyebrows furrow into that “serious genius” crease, and of course, his damn glasses betray him by slipping down his nose as he leans in to sneak a peek at what I wrote. The way he pushes them back up with one lazy finger? Too casual, too precise—like he knows exactly how distracting he looks.

Focus, Y/N. Focus on the paper, not the guy who plays basketball to ease his tension and somehow looks like he just walked off a runway. And yes, he looks damn hot when he plays, but this is strictly an academic observation, no judging.

Mark’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Handmaid’s Tale?”

I nod, trying not to make it obvious that I’m really thinking about how his hair falls perfectly messy when he pushes it back, and how the sleeves of his shirt roll up just enough to make me wonder if he knows the effect he’s having.

“What’s running around in that head of yours?” he asks, eyebrow raised, suddenly silent like he’s waiting for some grand revelation.

Definitely not how good you look right now.

"Oh nothing"

“And seriously,” he adds, eyeing my pen like it’s a secret weapon, “you should stop chewing on that thing. I know you’re hunting for a sentence to obliterate me with.”

“I’m not,” I snap, yanking the pen away like it’s a live bomb.

We’re both silent for a while — a rare event, considering we usually argue over everything from font sizes to who gets top billing on the title page. But right now, it’s just the clack of keyboards and the soft hum of the café.

“I don’t like this,” he says suddenly.

I glance up. “What, being productive?”

“No. You being quiet. It’s weird. It’s like I’m watching a thriller with no plot twist. Where’s the snark? The dramatic sighs? The eye rolls?”

I shrug. “Maybe I’m saving all my energy for the bibliography.”

He grins. “Oh, I get it now. You’re lulling me into a false sense of security before you hit me with the footnote from hell.”

I sip the Frappuccino — the one I swore I wouldn’t drink. He notices, of course.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s tolerable.”

“You say that about everything you like. Just admit you love it.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That line working on anyone else?”

He leans back, smirking. “Only the ones who can spell ‘conscience’ without autocorrect.”

I can’t help the laugh that slips out. He notices that too.

“You laughed,” he says like he just won a bet.

“Congratulations. What do you want, a trophy?”

“No, just acknowledgment. It’s rare. Like finding a happy ending in an existential novel.”

I grin. “You’re really trying to make metaphors happen today, huh?”

He shrugs.

We fall back into silence.

Two weeks had passed since our abstract got the green light from Mr. Jung. Since then, it felt like we’d been living in a war zone—bickering over everything from fonts to spacing, to whose point held more weight. Every tiny detail turned into a battlefield.

“I’m taking you to the party,” Giselle declared, even though I was standing right next to her.

“I’m not coming,” I replied, flipping through Onyx Storm. Honestly, can you blame me? The ending was right around the corner.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m taking you. That’s not a request, Ms. Litlady. And please, don’t start in on Plato or whoever. People are still talking about that.”

“They asked me a question,” I shrugged, marking my page before closing the book. “I just answered.”

“It’s a party, not a philosophy lecture. Dress up and come with me. Jungwoo’s picking us up.”

“It’s not like I hate parties.”

She grinned. “Exactly. You like parties—you’re not one of those typical bookworms who lock themselves away all weekend.”

“Yeah, well, I like finishing Onyx Storm more.”

“Whatever. You can finish it later. You’ve been working on that paper with your academic rival nonstop. You need a break from that hot nerd.”

“He’s not hot. More like a mosquito buzzing in my ear and I'm just tolerating him.”

“Speaking of that hot nerd, only you can hold a conversation with him. I heard Jia finally snagged a date with him last month, and he went on about the Renaissance and its impact on literature, the printing press, the first Bible—all that jazz.”

A small smile spread across my face. “That sounds exactly like him,” I said, walking to my closet.

“The red one or the black one?” Giselle asked.

“I like the red one. It looks good on you.”

“Done and done.”

The music was loud, the air smelled like cheap cologne and spilled cider, and the lights were dim enough to make everyone look ten percent more attractive than usual—which meant nothing to me, obviously. I was here for a drink and maybe a reason to leave early.

Then she walked in.

Giselle first—grinning, glossy-lipped and glitter-eyed. Jungwoo next, bouncing like the Labrador he was. And then her, in black. Not the mournful academic black we lived in, no. This was dangerous black. Skin, collarbone, the glint of a necklace that caught the light every time she tilted her head and laughed.

And she laughed.

At him.

Jaehyun.

The golden boy. Soccer star. Her brother’s best friend. The type of guy who didn’t have to work for charm—he just breathed and people adored him. She was leaning in, brushing his arm, and throwing her head back like he’d just told the best joke in the world.

I hated it.

I didn’t even know what he said, and I hated it.

Haechan appeared next to me with a red cup and a knowing look. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re glaring.”

“Same thing.”

“She looks good tonight,” he said. “Not that I noticed. I mean, Jaehyun noticed. And half the team. But not me. Just saying.”

I rolled my eyes, took a swig of something that burned, and tried not to look back. Failed.

“She laugh like that with you during group projects?” Haechan smirked, the devil in a hoodie.

“She doesn’t laugh with me. We argue.”

“And yet,” he drawled, “here you are. Third drink. Sixth stare. First stage of denial. Classic.”

I turned away. “Shut up.”

“She’s just talking to Jaehyun, man. Your crush is allowed to talk to people.”

“She’s not my—”

I paused.

He grinned.

I hated him.

____

I walked into the room after attending a call from Renjun. She was laughing again. That sharp, carefree kind of laugh that somehow always managed to echo over the music. And of course, it was Jaehyun standing next to her. She tilted her head slightly when she laughed, like whatever he said was the cleverest thing she’d heard all night. Whatever.

I made my way to the bar. Not toward her — just the bar. The fact that she was already there? Unfortunate timing.

I stepped into the space beside her, nodding at the bartender. “You do remember our submission’s due next week, right? Or is your strategy just charming Jaehyun into doing it for us?”

She turned toward me, a slow, amused look crawling up her face. “Mark Lee at a party and talking about work? I’m shocked. Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”

I grabbed my drink. “I just figured your attention span might need the reminder.”

Her smirk widened. “Worried I’ll outshine you again?”

“Again implies it happened once.”

“You’re right. But let’s not forget all those other times I accidentally outdid you — it’s kind of a pattern by now.”

I took a slow sip. “Delusions are getting bold these days.”

She laughed under her breath. Not the same kind of laugh she gave Jaehyun. This one had teeth. “The cafe’s closed tomorrow,” she said, casually, like it was no big deal. “So if you want to get this done before the deadline, you’ll have to come to my place. I’ll text you the address.”

I raised an eyebrow, letting a beat of silence stretch before answering. “You sure your Wi-Fi can handle all that ego in one apartment?”

She looked at me over her glass. “Guess we’ll find out.”

And just like that, she turned back to her conversation — not sparing me a second glance.

Fine by me. I got what I came for. A drink. And a reminder that this partnership was going to be the end of one of us.

Probably her.

___

She said her place. Her place. I didn’t ask questions—just said yes like a man trying to win a debate by proximity.

But now I’m standing in front of her door with a backpack full of citations and a mouth that can’t stop thinking about hers. This isn’t about the paper anymore. Not really.

She’s let me in—literally. And I don’t know what I’ll do when she forgets I’m the enemy and starts looking at me like I’m something else entirely.

He stepped into my apartment like he owned the place, tossed his bag onto the floor beside the low table in the hall, and sank onto the opposite side without a word. We didn’t need pleasantries—not in our world of rivalry laced with disdain.

I shouldn’t have said my place. I could’ve picked the library. A cafe, The quad. Literally anywhere that didn’t have soft lighting and shelves full of books that double as secrets and i didn't realise it tho.

But the way he looked at me—like he knew something I didn’t—made my mouth move faster than my brain. And now we were meeting in a space where my defenses didn’t work.

My apartment wasn’t neutral territory. It had favorite pens and worn notebooks and a bookshelf I’d never let anyone touch. Not even the friends who knew what I read when I wasn’t trying to impress professors.

He pulled out his laptop and the familiar clack of keys filled the silence as we settled into rhythm, working through the final citations. I was focused, eyes scanning a paragraph on postmodern consumption—but I felt it the moment his attention drifted.

Not to me. Not yet.

His gaze had shifted—toward the corner.

Bookshelf.

I followed it too late. He was already rising, curiosity pulling him like a magnet to the shelf I usually guarded with selective disclosure. His fingers grazed the spines, pausing over a particular set of titles that didn’t exactly scream Kafka.

Twisted Love. Fourth Wing. Iron Flame. A Court of Thorns and Roses.

I didn’t have to look up to know the smirk forming on his lips.

“Interesting collection,” he murmured, voice laced with something that wasn’t entirely mockery.

I turned my face toward him slowly, schooling my expression into bored defiance. “It’s called research,” I said coolly, though I could feel the heat creeping up the back of my neck.

He pulled a book halfway out. “For our project?” he asked, taking a step closer.

“For the sake of literature as a whole,” I countered, folding my arms across my chest.

Another step. “Didn’t know you were into… dragons, morally grey men, and explicit tension.”

I didn’t move. “Didn’t know you had time to read spines while pretending to be better than me.”

That earned a short laugh, rough and low. He closed the distance until he was standing right beside me, the book still in his hand, his fingers brushing the edge of the cover like it was a dare.

“I guess I underestimated the kind of stories that get your attention,” he said, his voice quieter now, deeper.

I tilted my head. “And I overestimated your sense of boundaries.”

His gaze flicked to my lips for a fraction of a second too long before settling back on my eyes. “So… which one’s your favorite?”

I reached out, plucked the book from his hand with deliberate slowness, and placed it back on the shelf.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I said, and turned back toward the table and settled into the chair.

I could still feel his stare on my back. Heavy. Unspoken.

The citations could wait a few seconds more.

He didn’t come back right away.

I could feel him still standing there. The air around the bookshelf was thick—static, electric. His presence dragged across my skin like a storm waiting to break.

And then he came back after grabbing another book from my collections. Not quietly. Not carelessly.

He sank into the chair like he owned it. Like he owned the moment. Like he’d found a secret and was now deciding just how deep he wanted to bury it in me.

No glance at the screen.

Only me.

His eyes were darker than before. Focused. Sure.

“Research purposes, huh?”

Low. Laced with something that tasted like trouble.

I didn’t flinch. “You know—methodology, citations, critical discourse—”

“You mean your collection over there?”

He jerked his chin toward the shelf. “Looks a hell of a lot more like late-night escapism than anything academic.”

My throat tightened. “You’re making assumptions.”

He smirked. “Am I?”

Then he leaned in. Slow. Measured. His voice dipped into something filthy and deliberate.

“You’re the girl who quotes Barthes in class, who sighs at Kafka like he ruined you—but you’ve got a whole row of books with titles like Thorns and Temptation, Credence and Twisted series.”

I blinked.

He didn’t stop.

“Let me guess. The main guy’s always a tortured immortal. Says he’s a monster. Calls her little mortal, my mouse, my princess or butterfly, before bending her over a throne.”

“That’s not—”

He cut in, brutal and soft. “You like that shit.”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

“And I bet you read it one hand on the page, the other under the covers, acting like you’re too good for it. Telling yourself it’s just fiction. Just tension. Just... literary curiosity.”

He grinned. Dark. Triumphant.

“But you keep going back to the same scenes, don’t you?”

I crossed my arms. “So what if I do?”

“So nothing.” He shrugged. “Except you walk around like your head’s above it all. As if you wouldn’t come apart if someone actually pressed you up against a wall and whispered the things you pretend you hate.”

He was too close. I could smell his cologne—woodsy, dark, intoxicating.

“You think that’s all it takes?” I tried to say it steady, but my voice betrayed me. Too tight. Too breathless.

He tilted his head, eyes on me like a predator amused by how long his prey thought it could pretend.

“No,” he said. “I think you want someone who gets it. Someone who won’t judge you for reading smut dressed in metaphors.”

His hand reached forward. Not touching. Just close. Suggestive.

“I think you want someone who’d highlight those lines with you. The ones where she begs. Where he growls. Where the line between danger and desire blurs and she likes it.”

I felt heat rush to my face. My stomach twisted. My legs didn’t move.

“And I think,” he continued, “you’ve spent so long playing the good girl with her annotated classics and tragic quotes... you’ve forgotten how much you crave someone seeing you. Really seeing you.”

“You don’t know me,” I whispered.

“I do now.”

His voice was a promise. A threat. A challenge.

“And you know what’s wild?”

He leaned in just enough to ghost his lips near my jaw. “I’m not judging you. I’d read them with you. Out loud. Every filthy line. Make you admit which parts made your thighs press together. Make you say it—this one, this is the line that made me want to be ruined.”

My breath shuddered.

His knee slid against mine again. Pressed there. Solid. Heavy.

“You still gonna act like you’re above it?” he whispered. “Or are you gonna let me peel that good girl persona off you page by page?”

I didn’t answer.

Because if I did—I wasn’t sure if I’d stop.

Because the thesis wasn’t the only thing unraveling.

I was.

And God, maybe I wanted him to keep pulling.

He didn’t pull away.

He leaned closer.

Still no contact—just his presence, thick and heavy and humming with a kind of heat that felt almost unfair.

“You’re really going to sit there and act like your thighs haven’t been pressed together for the last five minutes?” he murmured, voice low, velvet over something razor-sharp. “Like you’re not wet under that skirt and trying not to squirm in your seat?”

I raised a brow, careful. Steady. “You always talk like this during research sessions? No wonder your GPA’s hanging by a thread.”

He smirked. “Cute. Deflecting.”

He dragged his chair an inch closer, the scrape of wood jarring in the silence. His knee bumped mine. Intentional. Firm. And then his fingers tapped the table, slow and steady, inches from where mine rested.

“You know the parts you reread the most?” he said, gaze dropping to my mouth. “The ones where he doesn’t even touch her yet. Just tells her what he’s going to do. How he’s going to make her lose control.”

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” I said coolly, even though my pulse was sprinting and I could feel the heat crawling up my throat.

He leaned in further, his breath brushing my cheek like a secret I wasn’t allowed to hear.

“I bet you love the build-up. His mouth at her ear. The words he says when no one else is listening. You’re already soaked for me, aren’t you? Look how easy it is to make you squirm.”

I didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Because if I did, he’d know.

“You act like you’re above it,” he said, voice going lower. “Like none of it gets to you. But I see the way you shift in your chair. How you stopped breathing when I said ‘wet.’”

I scoffed, leaned back just a little. “You’re giving yourself too much credit.”

“Oh, I haven’t even started,” he murmured, eyes locked on mine. “Want me to read aloud your favorite passage? The one where she’s told to shut up and take it? Where he pins her wrists and tells her, You’re not going anywhere until I’ve ruined every part of you?”

I stood abruptly.

His eyes tracked every inch of the movement like a dare.

I didn’t speak. Just reached for the book near his elbow—my copy, spine cracked, pages dog-eared and traitorous—and walked to the nearest bookshelf to shelve it. A small act. Simple.

But it was enough.

He was behind me in seconds. Catching my wrist to turn me towards him.

His hand landed on the shelf above mine, boxing me in. His body close. Too close. Heat radiating from his chest to my neck, not touching, but god, it felt like he was.

“You’re not fooling me,” he said, voice dark against the shell of my ear. “You can act cold all you want. Witty. Detached. But you’re the kind of girl who reads the dirtiest pages twice, then closes the book just to sit there and feel it.”

I gripped the spine of the book tighter.

“You want someone to make it real,” he said. “To tilt your chin up, press their mouth to yours, and say, Don’t run. Take it.”

My chest rose too fast.

“You’d hate how much you’d love it,” he whispered. “How fast you’d fall apart. How easily you’d beg when I tell you, Keep your eyes on me while I make you mine right here.”

I should’ve told him to back off.

Should’ve moved. Should’ve breathed.

Instead, I froze.

And that’s when he kissed me.

Hard. Fierce. Like he’d waited too damn long and couldn’t hold it in any longer.

His hand slid to my waist, dragging me closer. His mouth crushed mine, no hesitation, no apology. Just fire and hunger and everything we’d been pretending not to want.

I gasped against him, hands fisting in his shirt as his body pressed against mine, pinning me lightly to the shelf.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating between us, his mouth moving over mine with brutal precision. Tongue teasing. Teeth grazing. Every second pulling me deeper, tighter, unraveling something I hadn’t even realized was wound that tight.

The book fell from my hands, hit the floor with a thud I barely heard.

“You feel that?” he breathed against my lips. “That spark when I touch you? That ache? You think I can’t tell how wrecked you are right now?”

He kissed me again, slower this time, more purposeful. Like he wanted me to remember it later—alone, frustrated, aching.

“I could fuck you with just my voice,” he whispered, mouth trailing to my jaw. “And baby—don’t lie—you’d let me.”

The bell rang.

Sharp. Final. Echoing down the hallway.

“Y/n?” My brother’s voice, too close.

I jerked back, panting.

His eyes were wild. Lips swollen. Still breathing hard.

I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand, heart pounding out of rhythm. He didn’t say anything. Just watched me.

“Y/n?” Louder now.

“I’m—coming!” I shouted, hating how wrecked my voice sounded.

I didn’t look at him as I turned.

But I felt his stare all the way to the door.

And long after I left, his kiss still burned like it hadn’t finished yet.

“The problem wasn’t that he kissed me. It was that I kissed him back.”

“We were supposed to write a paper. Not rewrite every boundary I ever built.”

___

Author's note:

Well, if you’ve made it this far, congratulations—you survived Part One of You Annotated My Soul without throwing your device across the room. This story is basically my caffeine-fueled brainchild, packed with all the awkward academic tension, chaotic vibes, and just enough cursed chemistry to keep you hooked. If you liked the drama (or even just the mess), drop a comment or reblog—it’s like digital high-fives that keep me writing.

Part Two is brewing, and spoiler alert: that kiss? Just the appetizer. Stay tuned for the main course.

Thanks for sticking around—and try not to ship them too hard.

Now, I see this fic is not that long.

149 notes · View notes

minminbunny · 9 months ago

Text

Best Friends to Lovers AU - Big Cock Singer! Bang Chan/Virgin Writer Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Chris, are you bitchless?" you asked, biting the ends of your pencil. Chan furrowed his eyebrows, "If you mean single then, yeah?" he said, setting his headphones down. "What brought this up?" he asked, leaning back against his chair. You purse your lips, "It's just your new song for the talent show. It's very intimate," you said, pointing the pencil at him. Chan chuckled, rubbing the back of his nape, "I didn't write that, Changbin helped," he said, gulping down the denial. You squint your eyes, "Damn so your co-writer was the one that was getting laid?" you said, tilting your head.

Chan nodded, "Exactly, I don't have time for a one night stand. I work at night," he said, defending himself. "Was it Changbin's idea to be topless too?" you asked, seeing through his lies. Chan gulped, "That wasn't me. It was a stunt devil. That looked exactly like me," he said, his ears heating. You nodded your head, "Ah. Is that so? He sounded just like you, too. That's amazing," you said, your tone heavy with sarcasm. Chan bit his bottom lip and nodded, "Ahm, very amazing," he replied, having the same tone of sarcasm.

You sighed and smiled, "Bestie between the both of us. You're the one who needs to get bitches," you said, faux sobbing. Chan blinked, "Wha- Why?" he asked, his face in disbelief. You faux a frown, "Because if you're writing imaginary sexual songs. Then you're basically me just song edition. One of us gotta not be a virgin in this friendship," you said, wiping your faux tears. Chan scoffed, his eyes wavering, "Of course. The stuff I write is definitely about someone, not creative freedom at all," he said, nervously laughing.

You gave him a deadpan look, "You're a terrible liar," you said, cupping his cheeks. Chan frowned and looked up from his seat, "You're one to say," he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You pulled away, "So, you really want someone to ride you, huh?" you asked, crossing your arms. Chan gulped, "Writing about riding is easier in terms of metaphors!" he exclaimed, shaking his fist. You scoffed, "Sure, if it were one song. I'm pretty sure you made like three," you said, squinting at him.

Chan pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, "Fine! You fucking cunt, yes! Maybe I fantasize about myself getting rode . It makes a good song and it spurs the fans on. Are you happy now?" he huffed, cheeks flushed with blush. You nodded, "Pleased. When's the last time you got some anyway?" you asked, setting your stuff aside. Clearly, this was more important than assignments. Chan nibbled his lip, "Months ago? I don't remember, I woke up the next day alone with no note," he sighed, brushing his hair back.

You licked your lips, "What if I rode you? Would you allow that?" you asked, shuddering at his icy look. Chan tilted his head back, "You're tempting a dangerous game, little one," he said, his voice husky and low. You gulped, "I didn't know you have this side," you said, feeling intimidated. Chan chuckled, "Well, you were always my bratty little dongsaeng. There wasn't a need to overpower you," he said, standing up to pet your head. Your breath turned shallow and heavy, "Chris," you whispered, not knowing how to proceed. Chan noticed your dilemma, "Say please if you want me to take care of you, baby. Say no if you want me to stop. It's up to you, little one. I'm only here to provide," he reassured, stroking your hair. His fingers lightly brush against your cheek. You shuddered, looking up, "Please. Please take care of me," you said, your voice breathy and needy. Chan smirked, holding your chin, "Of course, anything for you, baby," he said, booping your nose.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"You're too big in this position," you whined, trying to ease yourself down his cock but it kept slipping between your dripping folds. Chan chuckled, "Baby, I already fingered your cunt open with four fingers, I'm pretty sure you're letting it slip away on purpose," he teases, lightly tapping his cockhead on your clit. You're mewling at the stimulation, "Help me? It's scary on my own," you sniffled, arching for his cock to fill up your ribbed walls after the long dragging foreplay his fingers teased to loosen your tight cunt. Chan hummed, aligning his leaking cockhead with your slightly gaping hole, "Deep breaths, little girl," he growled, hearing the audible crude pop of your cunt accepting his girthy tip.

You whimpered against his chest, slowly easing yourself lower and lower down his hot veiny shaft. Chan kissed your hair, "That's it. You're so close, baby. Another half more," he said, rubbing your waist. You lifted your head, "This is only half?" you whined, feeling so full. Chan cooed, gripping your hips, "Let me help," he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards. "Hah, ah, hah," you moaned, arching your chest towards him. Chan hissed, rolling his hips, "There we go. Down to the hilt," he groaned, stroking your thighs as searing hot walls engulfed his throbbing hard cock.

You hiccuped, your walls fluttering around his curved length, "Hah, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good," you mewled, feeling the obvious tummy bulge when you leaned back. Chan growled at the sight, “Ah, shit. You took me so well, babygirl. Look at that bulge, so perfect for me," he rambled, his hair matting to his forehead as hot breaths escaped his lips. You lifted your hips, and gripped his shoulders, "Oh, yes. Hah, hah, ah," you whimpered, feeling his cockhead messaged against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Chan growled, watching your thigh trembled each time to fucked yourself down his cock.

Your bounce's were deep and through, his cockhead kissed your cervix every time you rode. Chan huffed, gripping your hips firmer, "I'm sorry, little one. I know it feels good but fuck are you slow," he groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in tandem with your bounces. You cried out at the sudden thrust, tears dripping down your cheek, "Chris, chris, hah, fuck!" You cried, burrowing your face into his chest as he fucked up into your needy cunt at a relentless pace. Chan nosed your neck, he licked and kissed your skin, "That feels way better, yeah? My big fucking cock pounding your tiny little cunt," he groaned, thrusting harder and faster.

"Hhgh, hah, more please, ah," you moaned, your eyes rolling back at the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Chan chuckled, kissing your forehead, "Cum for me, little girl. I can feel your needy cunt milk my cock. Your walls are fluttering so fucking much," he said, his voice husky and low. "There, there, fuck!" You cried, dragging your nails down his chest as your orgasm broke. Chan hissed at your scratches, your walls squeezing around his girthy cock, "Good girl," he praised, thrusting through your orgasm. You sniffled, whimpering when he continued, "Too much, Chris," you whined, feeling his rough fingers rub your clit in tandem.

Chan groaned against your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin, "Shit, shit, hah. I'm cumming," he groaned, thrusting deeply one last time before pumping deep within your walls. Another climax broke from you, your ears buzzed from the pleasure. Chan rubbed your back, stroking your cheek, "I'm never letting you go now, little one. The moment you said please means you agreed to the casualties," he whispered, nuzzling your hair. You sniffled, burrowing yourself into his chest. Chan chuckled, "You're alright, baby. It's safe. It's just you and me," he hummed, slowly thrusting his cock in and out of your dripping cunt

AMAB

"You're too big in this position," you whined, trying to ease yourself down his cock but it kept slipping between your dripping ass. Chan chuckled, "Baby, I already fingered your hole open with four fingers, I'm pretty sure you're letting it slip away on purpose," he teases, lightly tapping his cockhead on your rim. You're mewling at the stimulation, "Help me? It's scary on my own," you sniffled, arching for his cock to fill up your ribbed walls after the long dragging foreplay his fingers teased to loosen your tight hole. Chan hummed, aligning his leaking cockhead with your slightly gaping hole, "Deep breaths, little boy," he growled, hearing the audible crude pop of your hole accepting his girthy tip.

You hiccuped, your walls fluttering around his curved length, "Hah, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good," you mewled, feeling the obvious tummy bulge when you leaned back. Chan growled at the sight, “Ah, shit. You took me so well, babyboy. Look at that bulge, so perfect for me," he rambled, his hair matting to his forehead as hot breaths escaped his lips. You lifted your hips, and gripped his shoulders, "Oh, yes. Hah, hah, ah," you whimpered, feeling his cockhead messaged against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Chan growled, watching your thigh trembled each time to fucked yourself down his cock.

Your bounce's were deep and through, his cockhead kissed your prostate every time you rode. Chan huffed, gripping your hips firmer, "I'm sorry, little one. I know it feels good but fuck are you slow," he groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in tandem with your bounces. You cried out at the sudden thrust, tears dripping down your cheek, "Chris, chris, hah, fuck!" You cried, burrowing your face into his chest as he fucked up into your needy hole at a relentless pace. Chan nosed your neck, he licked and kissed your skin, "That feels way better, yeah? My big fucking cock pounding your tiny little hole," he groaned, thrusting harder and faster.

"Hhgh, hah, more please, ah," you moaned, your eyes rolling back at the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Chan chuckled, kissing your forehead, "Cum for me, little boy. I can feel your needy hole milk my cock. Your walls are fluttering so fucking much," he said, his voice husky and low. "There, there, fuck!" You cried, dragging your nails down his chest as your orgasm broke. Chan hissed at your scratches, your walls squeezing around his girthy cock, "Good boy," he praised, thrusting through your orgasm. You sniffled, whimpering when he continued, "Too much, Chris," you whined, feeling his rough fingers stroke your cock in tandem.

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gothsoyl · 6 months ago

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"my little kitten" (18+) agatha harkness x reader word count: 1208 summary: you're her familiar. and what good familiars do when their mistress is tired? warnings: cursing, reader is giving, dom!agatha note: no thoughts

you've been agatha's familiar for as long as you can remember. you had doubts whether you were even there before agatha summoned you. you just appeared in front of her in the form of a black cat and that's how all your memories began.

you followed her closely, listened attentively to her sarcastic monologues and quietly watched her steal powers from witches. you barely moved your tail when she stepped over lifeless bodies and said something to them if they could understand her. it was always such a strange phrase that if someone else had said it, it would’ve looked as awkward as possible. but agatha always managed to broadcast without any awkwardness, and it didn't matter whether she was serious or did it just for fun.

“how exhausting it all is,” she sits down in an armchair and closes her eyes, a heavy sigh escapes her lips, which sounded so theatrical, “it's hard to be the greatest witch, isn't it?”

you’re silent – you sit on the floor in front of her and only tilt your head slightly to the side, carefully watching her actions. she looks tired today, even more than usual, and the sarcasm that leaves her mouth doesn’t seem familiar.

“this silence annoys me,” she whispers softly and looks around the room as if hoping to hear at least someone's voice, but nothing in response, as always, “come here.”

you lower your gaze and twitch your ear, as if you're thinking about something, but it all stays in your mind. you get up from your seat and take a step towards her – the next moment she clicks her fingers loudly, once again turning you into a human being.

you stop and already want to reach for the blanket on the couch to cover your sudden nakedness, but she shakes her head, beckoning you to her.

“I'm tired,” she says with a small grin and you immediately understand what she's getting at. her voice is firm, leaving no room for questions “you'll get dressed later.”

“as you wish, my witch,” you nod, the corners of your lips lift slightly. you could never refuse her, and you didn't want to. what's the point if everything was fine with you?

you approach her slowly and kneels in front of her. agatha spreads her legs automatically, giving you more space and you involuntarily lick your lower lip under her attentive gaze. your hands slide up her waist to the buttons of her shirt, unbuttoning slowly, as if testing her patience, to which she just shakes her head.

“teaser,” she whispers when you take off her shirt. your lips immediately find her collarbone, gently kissing and going down to her bra, which she helps you take off so that you don't get too distracted from your direct duties.

the bra falls to the floor and you pull away from her hot skin for a couple of seconds, examining her plump breasts, as if for the first time. and who wouldn't want to prolong such a pleasure?

you lick your lips again and take her nipple in your mouth, greedily sucking and nibbling. agatha's soft sighs reach your ears that make your own stomach flips in warmth. the witch immediately sinks to the back of the chair and tilts her head back. you know she's pleased. you had a long time to understand how to work so that your mistress can relax.

you pull away again just to do the same with her other breast – you want to feel her nipple harden under your tongue, you want to feel her chest rise while you work so hard.

it's already difficult for you to delay pleasure and act slowly. your hands go under her skirt and you feel the waistband of her panties, immediately pulling them down. agatha spreads her legs even wider and moans faintly when your fingers touch her clit.

“you're wet,” you notice with a grin and shove your fingers between her folds, feeling how they pass through her crotch right to her entrance without any problems, “are you so tired, mistress?”

“one more word and you'll become a cat,” she grumbles, but it's enough for you to bite your tongue and continue to take her nipple in your mouth.

the last thing you wanted was to watch from the sidelines as agatha relaxes herself on her own. It was annoying, infuriating, and made you feel unnecessary. but agatha needed you, didn't she?

you frown a little at her threat – you want to do something, you want to show her that you’re brave enough to do something she wouldn’t like, but you’re not. you slowly push your finger inside of her, feeling her walls envelop it, and her body tenses for a moment, just to relax finally. you swallow and carefully begin to move inside her, pushing further and deeper, your lips moving to her neck, leaving barely noticeable hickeys. you know she'll be mad at you later, but right now all you want to do is feel like she's really yours.

agatha breathes heavily, her hand strokes your back roughly and she whispers words of praise to you, forcing you to add another finger, and the rhythm becomes faster. you can feel her back arching and she instinctively moves her hips towards you.

“you feel so good, mistress”, you feel so needy of her as you whisper it, but you can’t hold back even after she threatens you.

“be quite for me,” she groans and grabs your chin with her free hand and pulls you closer. she kisses you greedily, scratching your lips with her teeth, and her tongue intertwines with yours. you don't even notice how you start moaning into her lips, as if her long fingers are stretching you now, and not the other way around.

she abruptly pushes you away from her and nods down, her cheeks are red, and her breath is knocked out when she whispers “down", and you don't ask questions. you nod intensely, lower yourself down, leaving ragged kisses on her stomach when you drastically and even nervously lift her skirt even higher.

a strangled moan escapes from her lips when you finally bury yourself in her crotch, your tongue quickly caresses her clit and you feel her salty juice remaining on your chin.

“bitch,” she hisses through her teeth and you start to work faster with your tongue, feeling her body begin to tremble. she grabs you by the hair with force and pulls you closer to her, “don’t you dare to stop…”

and then you feel how she starts to tremble, and her nails scratch your scalp, forcing you to squint in pain. a hoarse moan fills the room as she bites her lip and you feel like you get dizzy, but it feels so good to the point where you can’t stop. she's panting heavily while you keep kissing her clit, your hands caress her thighs, scratching her pale skin slightly.

“my little kitten...” she finally says with some strange warmth and pats you on the head. you slowly pull away from her, her sly gaze is still fixed on you and she casually wipes your chin from her sticky juice, “what would I do without you, huh?”

#agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha all along x reader #agatha harkness x reader #kathryn hahn x reader #kathryn hahn #sol writing

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godricgryffinsnore · 2 months ago

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Under The Stars ♡ : A Sirius Black Fan Fiction.

pairing : Sirius Black x female!ravenclaw!reader

summary : A sharp-tongued Ravenclaw finds herself unexpectedly drawn into the chaotic world of the Marauders—especially the infuriating Sirius Black. What begins as witty insults and stubborn walls slowly unravels into something tender under starlit skies, where quiet truths are revealed and emotions long buried begin to bloom.

warnings : Mild Angst (emotional family tension), Suggestive Themes (make-out scene with romantic tension), Emotional Vulnerability, Light Swearing & Sarcasm, Slow Burn / Enemies to Lovers Trope. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

Word Count : 5.2k

main master list <3

banner : @uzmacchiato and @roseschoices

The library was where you always found solace—amidst the rustling pages of books and the familiar scent of parchment. As a Ravenclaw, you lived for knowledge, basking in the wisdom of centuries, and ever-so-annoyed by the distractions of your fellow students. Among those distractions, the Marauders stood at the pinnacle of everything you despised.

You couldn’t stand the noise they made—their constant pranks, their uproarious laughter that echoed through the halls like a plague. Sirius Black was the ringleader, with his ever-present smirk, mischievous eyes, and that infuriatingly cocky air that made you roll your eyes every time you saw him. He thrived on chaos, and you were the exact opposite.

“Have you read The Principles of Transfiguration, Black?” You had asked him once in a classroom, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you caught him scribbling doodles on parchment instead of paying attention. “No, I didn’t think so. Too busy plotting your next prank?”

Sirius had just grinned, his lips curling up in that charming but infuriating way. “Well, well, if it isn’t the bookworm herself. Is it any wonder that someone like you prefers books to people?”

Your response was quick and sharp, the words practically flying out of your mouth. “And is it any wonder that someone like you is still playing pranks at sixteen? A bit juvenile, don’t you think?”

That had been your dynamic with him—a war of words, both sharp and biting, and the ever-present tension that filled the air whenever the two of you crossed paths.

But tonight, something felt different. The usual chatter in the common room was oddly quiet, and after a day filled with insufferable lectures and incessant banter from your classmates, you felt yourself needing an escape. Fresh air. The Astronomy Tower was the closest place where you could get away from it all, where the silence of the night could settle your racing thoughts.

You climbed the winding stairs of the tower, the cool breeze tangling in your hair as you pushed open the creaky door. But to your surprise, you weren’t alone.

There, standing beneath the vast expanse of the sky, was Sirius Black. He wasn’t grinning. He wasn’t causing chaos. He was simply… standing still, gazing up at the stars. A strange quietness surrounded him, one you weren’t accustomed to.

Your footsteps slowed as you stepped into the open space. You couldn’t help but feel a strange curiosity pull at you. This was not the Sirius Black you knew.

His back was to you, but you could see the way his shoulders seemed heavy, as though a burden was weighing him down. You felt an unexpected tug of concern in your chest.

“Well, well,” you said, your voice teasing, trying to break the tension. “What’s this? The great Sirius Black is actually... quiet?”

Sirius didn’t immediately respond, and for a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard you. Then, in a low voice, almost as if speaking to himself, he answered. “Just… thinking.”

“Thinking? You?” You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Should I be worried? Have you misplaced your pranking skills?”

Sirius’ lips tugged into a small, almost invisible smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He let out a quiet sigh before turning to face you, the pain in his expression visible.

“Yeah, well. People do need time to think every now and then,” he muttered, clearly not in the mood for more teasing. “Even I’m not immune to it.”

You tilted your head, crossing your arms. “Well, you’ve certainly got the brooding down. But who knew the infamous Sirius Black could actually look like a normal person for once?”

He shot you a look—half-grimace, half-smirk—but you saw the exhaustion behind it. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don’t you, Ravenclaw?”

“Oh, I try,” you replied with a mischievous gleam in your eye. “But I’m sure you’re used to being the center of attention, aren’t you? Can’t imagine you standing around looking all... lost in thought. You’ve always got to be the one stirring things up.”

Sirius let out a bitter laugh, but it sounded hollow. “I used to be good at that, didn’t I?”

The sudden shift in his tone made you pause. You’d never heard him sound so… defeated.

“Yeah, you did. Until you got bored of it and started thinking about how many people you could piss off in one day.” You couldn’t help but throw in a jab, but it lacked its usual edge. Something was off.

Sirius’ eyes flickered toward the night sky, his gaze fixed on a distant star. The playfulness had faded completely, replaced by something heavier. “You know… I’ve been thinking about my brother. Regulus.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “Regulus? You mean the cold, brooding, insufferable little brother of yours?”

Sirius’ lips twitched into a rueful smile, but it quickly disappeared. “Yeah. That one.”

You were taken aback. You’d always known about the tension between Sirius and Regulus—the way Sirius had left his family behind, the way Regulus had remained loyal to them. But hearing him speak of his brother like this, with such a quiet intensity, caught you off guard.

“Regulus and I don’t… talk much anymore,” Sirius continued, his voice low, almost hesitant. “He’s… different now. Cold, distant. Like he doesn’t even care anymore.”

You raised an eyebrow, your usual sarcastic edge slipping back into place. “I wonder why. Maybe it has something to do with you abandoning him for your little band of misfits. You know, I’d probably be pretty cold too if my older brother ditched me for pranks and loud laughs every night.”

Sirius flinched, though he didn’t take offense. There was no sharp retort from him, no witty comeback. Just silence.

“He hates me for it,” he whispered, almost too quietly for you to hear. “I left him behind, and now… now he won’t even speak to me. He doesn’t look at me the way he used to. He just…” He trailed off, his voice faltering. “He just looks at me like I’m the one who ruined everything.”

You felt a strange lump in your throat at the rawness in his voice. Despite all the teasing and insults, despite the fact that Sirius Black was your sworn enemy, you found yourself softening.

“So you miss him,” you said, your voice quieter now, a touch gentler than usual.

Sirius nodded, his eyes staring at the distant stars. “I miss him. I didn’t realize how much until… well, until I saw him again. He was just standing there, looking at me like I was a stranger. And I couldn’t even tell him how sorry I am. I couldn’t even—” His voice cracked, and for a brief moment, the invincible Marauder was gone, replaced by a young man who was lost.

You stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of his words hanging between you. You weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t sure you even had the right words. But in the quiet of the night, something shifted between you two. There was no more teasing, no more insults, just two people who understood pain, in their own ways.

“Look,” you said after a long pause, your voice unexpectedly soft, “maybe you screwed up with Regulus. Maybe you didn’t. But you can’t change the past. All you can do is... try. And I think you’re already doing that by at least caring.”

Sirius met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and something like gratitude. “You actually... think that?”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said with a playful smirk, but your tone was light, not mocking. “I’m still not your biggest fan, Black. But I think you’re better than the image you’ve built for yourself. And I guess that’s something.”

He chuckled, the sound warmer now, though tinged with melancholy. “You really know how to make a guy feel better, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I have that effect on people,” you replied, your tone teasing once more. “But don’t let it get to your head. I’m still not convinced you’re not a complete idiot.”

Sirius grinned, but it was a real smile this time, not the smirk of a prankster. “You’re still the most infuriating person I know.”

“And you’re still the most insufferable,” you shot back, but there was no heat in it anymore. Just a simple, unspoken understanding.

You both stood there for a long time, looking up at the stars. And though the banter had faded, and the teasing had quieted, something new lingered in the air between you. Something that had never been there before.

Perhaps, despite everything, you weren’t as different as you thought.

── .✦

The following days were strange. A shift had occurred that neither of you had anticipated. You found yourself catching Sirius' eye more often in the hallways, and though the usual teasing was still present, there was something new. Something... softer.

You continued to meet the Marauders' antics with your sharp wit, but for the first time, it didn’t feel like a battle. You found yourself laughing, even smirking at their ridiculous jokes, and though the rivalry still stood, the wall between you and Sirius had chipped away—though you weren’t sure if you liked it.

In the Gryffindor common room one evening, you found yourself sitting across from the Marauders. James, as usual, was being a showoff, performing a ridiculous charm with his wand, and Remus, with that quiet wisdom of his, was shaking his head at him. But it was Sirius, leaning casually against the wall, that caught your attention. His eyes flickered toward you with a knowing look, but instead of mocking, there was something warmer in it. The banter had changed, and it was beginning to feel less like a game of insults and more like... something else. Something almost... friendly.

"Oi, Moony," James said, his mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Remus. "You think Y/N is finally starting to warm up to us?"

You raised an eyebrow, giving James a knowing look. “Starting to warm up? What are you talking about? I’m still here, aren't I? You lot are still ridiculous.”

Remus laughed softly, the sound so familiar now. “Well, that’s progress, isn’t it?” he teased. “She’s been spending more time with us than in the library lately.”

You rolled your eyes, though you felt a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just here because you’re all unbearable. Don’t get used to it.”

Sirius remained silent, his gaze flickering between you and his friends. The teasing between the Marauders was always lighthearted, but now, you noticed a shift in his posture. His usual confidence was still there, but there was a quiet wariness in his eyes—almost like he was watching you too closely, unsure of something.

“Did you see her and Black last night?” James continued, leaning in, his voice low. “I swear, the tension’s finally breaking. Thought I’d never see the day you two actually... got along.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, catching the hint of mischief in James' tone. “You don’t say. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I saw it with my own two eyes. The way they were looking at each other. It's practically undeniable, mate,” James replied, throwing Sirius a sly grin.

Sirius, who had been staring out the window, shifted uncomfortably at the mention of you. He wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed or confused by the way his friends were teasing him. But there was something gnawing at him—something about how he felt whenever you were near. It wasn’t like before. When you argued, it wasn’t just about winning anymore. It was different.

“Shut up, James,” Sirius muttered, his voice strained. "You’re imagining things."

James raised his hands in mock surrender, but the grin on his face never wavered. "Nah, I’m pretty sure I’m not. You two were talking about Regulus, right? You were opening up, Black. It’s practically a heart-to-heart."

You raised your eyebrows at James, feigning disbelief. "You think just because I talked to him once, it means I’m suddenly friends with him?"

James’ eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh, I see what’s happening! You’re both just pretending, aren’t you? You’re too proud to admit that you two are—”

Sirius cut him off quickly, trying to hide the unease creeping up on him. “I’m not ‘pretending’ anything, and neither is she. It’s just... we had a conversation. That’s it.”

“Right,” Remus chimed in with an amused look on his face. “Just a casual chat, about nothing more than Regulus, and certainly no feelings involved.”

Sirius froze. Feelings. The word lingered in the air like a curse. The truth he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge was coming into focus, and now, hearing it from his friends, it was impossible to ignore.

He wasn’t just fond of you anymore. It wasn’t just playful banter. When you had talked about his brother, when he had heard the softness in your voice, he’d realized something that made his chest tighten: he cared. More than he should.

He cared in a way that made him anxious. The same way his pulse quickened whenever you teased him or when you smiled at him. The way your presence made everything feel... less chaotic, even when the rest of the world seemed to be in disarray.

His friends' teasing continued, but all he could think about was how the idea of you not being a part of his life felt like a sharp sting. And for the first time, he realized what it was.

Sirius Black, the Marauder, the prankster, the eternal troublemaker... was in love with you.

The thought hit him like a bolt of lightning, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Was it possible? Was this what all those moments of banter, those unexpected smiles, and the stolen glances had led to?

“Black,” James said, snapping his fingers in front of Sirius’ face, pulling him from his thoughts. “Earth to Sirius. You’re looking a bit too serious there, mate. You thinking about something other than your unbelievable charm?”

Sirius blinked, his mind still racing. “I’m not thinking about anything.”

Remus gave him a knowing look, his lips curling up in a teasing smile. “Really? You look like you’re about to burst into a love song. Maybe you are thinking about something.”

You rolled your eyes, but you caught the way Sirius’ face had gone a bit pale. A strange tightness in his jaw made you curious. You didn’t know why, but something about the way his friends were looking at him made you feel… unsettled. As if there was something unspoken between them, something you didn’t quite understand.

But before you could ask, Sirius stood up abruptly, trying to hide the panic creeping into his chest. He threw a glance over at you, his voice suddenly gruff. “I need to go... do something.”

You watched him walk away, his steps quick, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of confusion. What was going on with him? Why did it feel like the air had shifted, like something heavy hung in the balance?

James and Remus exchanged looks, both of them grinning as if they knew something you didn’t.

“Think he’s finally figured it out?” Remus asked quietly, his tone teasing.

“I think so,” James replied, his grin widening. “It only took him a while. But hey, better late than never.”

You were left sitting there, caught in the middle of their teasing and Sirius’ sudden exit, unsure of what to make of it all. But something inside you stirred—something that told you you might have underestimated Sirius Black. And that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one who was starting to realize the truth.

As you glanced out the window, you saw him disappearing into the hallway. Was this really happening? Was this where all the playful banter, the arguments, the rivalry, was really leading?

And why, despite the confusion, did you feel a strange flutter in your chest?

── .✦

Days passed, and the playful banter between you and Sirius had evolved. It was no longer just about insults and sarcastic remarks; there was something softer, more genuine to the exchanges. The walls between you both had come down piece by piece, and now, when you saw him across the room, your stomach didn’t churn with irritation, but with something else entirely—a fluttering warmth that you tried to ignore.

The Marauders continued their usual antics. James still flirted with anyone in sight, Remus was always the voice of reason, and Peter, despite his timid nature, had grown a bit more comfortable with the group. But now, the teasing between you and Sirius had taken on a different tone. It was almost like you were starting to enjoy each other’s company, despite the oddities.

One particular day, after a long, exhausting round of classes, you found yourself wandering the halls when you spotted Sirius standing outside the door to the library. You shot him a look—your usual suspicious one.

“What are you doing here, Black?” you asked, your voice still sharp, but there was no malice behind it.

He grinned at you, that same mischievous grin that always made you want to smack him—but now, there was a flicker of something else in it. “Just thought I’d pay a visit. You know, to see how the bookworm is holding up.”

“Oh, please,” you said with an exaggerated eye roll. “As if you care.”

“Maybe I do,” he replied casually, stepping closer. “Maybe I’m getting soft.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Sirius Black, soft? I highly doubt it.”

“Well, you might want to re-evaluate that. You know, since we’ve been talking a lot more lately.” His tone was playful, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes. “And you didn’t completely hate it, did you?”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to figure out if he was teasing you or if there was something more to his words. “You’re insufferable, Black.”

“That’s part of my charm,” he said smoothly, though his smirk was softer now, more genuine.

There was a brief silence, and then Sirius spoke again, his voice a little more serious. “Actually, I wanted to thank you for the other night. When we talked about Regulus. It helped.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “I didn’t do anything special, Sirius. I just forced you to talk, really.”

“Well, you forced me to finally say something I’ve been avoiding for years.” His eyes softened, and there was something almost vulnerable about him in that moment. “I talked to him, you know. Regulus. For the first time in ages.”

Your heart gave a strange lurch at the thought. “How did it go?”

Sirius let out a sigh, looking down at the ground for a moment before looking back up at you. “Cold. Like I knew he’d be. He barely said anything, just stared at me, like I was a stranger. But at least... at least we talked. It was something.”

You smiled, a small but genuine smile, and for once, you felt that familiar tension between you and Sirius vanish. It wasn’t just the banter anymore; it was real. You were getting to know him. You were seeing a side of him that not many did.

“That’s progress, Sirius,” you said softly. “At least you’re trying.”

He nodded, a quiet thanks in his eyes. “I’ll keep trying. Maybe he’ll come around eventually.”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps behind you. James, Remus, and Peter had appeared, as if on cue. James was grinning, looking between you and Sirius, his eyebrow raised.

“Wow, look at that,” James said, his voice full of mock surprise. “The two of you, actually talking without ripping each other’s heads off. I’m impressed.”

Remus smirked. “Is this what the world’s come to? Sirius Black, making friends?”

Sirius shot a playful glare at his friends, but there was no heat behind it. “Oh, shut up. It’s called maturity, something you all know nothing about.”

Peter chuckled softly, earning a playful shove from James. “Sure, mate. Just try not to go too soft on us.”

You shot them a quick look, smirking. “Maybe you lot should follow Sirius’ example for once.”

The teasing from the Marauders continued, but now, it was different. It felt less like them trying to make fun of you and more like friendly jabs. You found yourself laughing more than you ever thought possible when they all interacted. You were starting to fit in with them, more than you ever thought you would. And somehow, Sirius was starting to feel... less like an enemy, and more like a friend. Maybe even something more.

Later that week, Sirius found you alone in the common room. The others had left for a while, and there was a quietness to the space. You were perched on one of the couches, your head buried in a book, but your mind wasn’t entirely focused on it. Something about the shift in your relationship with Sirius had been occupying your thoughts.

He sat down beside you, too close for comfort, but you didn’t move away. He didn’t speak at first, and the silence stretched out between you. Finally, he broke it with a casual question.

“Hey, Y/N... you ever been to Hogsmeade?”

You looked at him, slightly confused. “Hogsmeade? Of course, I’ve been. Everyone’s been. Why?”

He shifted a little, glancing at you with a smirk. “Well, I was thinking maybe... you’d want to go with me sometime.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words. Go with him?

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the surprise. “You asking me out, Black?”

Sirius’ smirk deepened, but there was a nervous edge to it that you hadn’t expected. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. We could just go to the Three Broomsticks, get a butterbeer, and talk some more. You know, like we’ve been doing... but maybe without the whole library thing.”

You blinked. “You’re asking me out to Hogsmeade. For real?”

“Well... yeah. For real,” he said, looking at you as though he wasn’t sure what your reaction would be. His usual confidence was faltering slightly, but there was a genuine warmth in his eyes. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but... I want to spend time with you. Away from all the noise. No Marauder pranks, no books. Just us.”

You stared at him, the words hanging in the air. You could feel your heart racing, and something—something that you’d been trying to ignore—flared up inside you.

“Alright, then,” you said, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’ll go with you. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook just because we’re not arguing.”

Sirius’ grin spread across his face. “Of course not. You’d never let me off the hook that easily.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between you two vanishing in an instant. You had never expected this—never expected to feel this way about him. But now, it was becoming clear. Somewhere between the banter, the forced conversations, and the quiet moments, you had begun to care for him more than you had ever imagined.

Sirius had come to you first, asking for something simple, but in that moment, you realized just how much he had grown on you. And despite the teasing, despite the playful banter, it was becoming more than just friendship. It was something deeper.

“Alright,” you said, finally letting your guard down. “Hogsmeade it is. But just remember—I’m not going easy on you, Black.”

Sirius chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And as he sat there, that familiar grin on his face, you realized something. Sirius Black, the Marauder who had once been your enemy, was no longer just a source of annoyance. He was the person you were beginning to look forward to seeing—every single day.

And somewhere deep down, you knew that you were falling for him.

── .✦

A few days had passed since that first trip to Hogsmeade with Sirius. Every time you thought back to it, you couldn’t help but smile. The day had been easy, effortless even. The way you both had wandered through the village, just talking, laughing, without the usual teasing barbs or defenses. It felt... comfortable.

But the moment you walked into the Three Broomsticks with Sirius—just the two of you, sitting in a corner booth, nursing your butterbeers in the quiet of the late afternoon—it felt like the world had been peeled back, revealing something new beneath.

That day, the conversations had drifted, from the Marauders’ pranks to books, to stories from your childhood. And every so often, you caught him looking at you in that way—eyes lingering just a moment longer than they should, a little softer than usual. It was confusing, in the best way possible. You never expected Sirius Black, the heart of chaos, the troublemaker, the last person you ever thought you’d end up with, to make you feel seen in the way he did.

And now, here you were, standing on the edge of something neither of you had quite put into words, but something that had been building between you like a quiet storm.

It was late that night when you found yourself in the Astronomy Tower again, like you had that night long ago. The cold breeze was crisp against your skin, and the sky stretched endlessly above you, stars scattered like diamonds. It was just the two of you this time.

Sirius stood beside you, his gaze focused on the stars, but there was something different in the air now. You weren’t sure if it was the shared silence, the lingering tension, or the fact that everything had been slowly shifting between you, but the connection between you both was undeniable.

"You know," you said softly, breaking the quiet, your voice barely louder than a whisper, "I never thought I’d be standing here like this with you."

Sirius turned to you, eyes catching the moonlight in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His lips curled into a smile, but it was different from before. It was quieter, more real, and you saw something deeper in him. Something that mirrored the way you felt.

“I never thought I’d be standing here with you either,” he admitted, voice low. “But I’m glad I am.”

You didn’t know why, but hearing him say that made your chest tighten. There was an ache that had formed, something that had built in your chest the moment you first realized you were starting to care for him. And the more time you spent with him, the more that feeling grew—filling the spaces inside you with a warmth that threatened to spill over.

“You’ve changed,” you said before you could stop yourself. "I never thought... well, you’ve softened."

Sirius chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep, and he took a step closer to you. “Maybe it’s you who’s changed me, Y/N. Or maybe I was always like this, and I just needed someone to see me. Really see me.”

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the distance between you. The words, the way he was looking at you now, the way everything felt so charged in the air—it was all too much, but in the best way possible. Your breath caught, and for a moment, you wondered if you could breathe at all.

There was no more teasing in the air now, no playful jabs. Just two people who had slowly found each other in the most unexpected of ways.

"Sirius," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you glanced up at him. "I—"

He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you, the warmth of him drawing you in. “Don’t say anything, not yet,” he murmured, fingers brushing against your cheek, the touch so gentle, as if you were something fragile. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve been thinking it too.”

Your heart raced in your chest as his thumb traced along your jawline, a gesture so tender, so soft, that it almost made you dizzy. And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, his lips hovered near yours, just close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath, just enough to make your stomach flip with anticipation.

“I don’t know how it happened,” he whispered, his eyes locked on yours, searching for something. "But somewhere between the pranks, the teasing, and the ridiculousness... I’ve fallen for you. And I don’t think I can fight it anymore."

The words hit you like a breathless wave, crashing over you in a rush of warmth and something even deeper. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world, and it felt like time slowed down, the world falling away, leaving just the two of you.

“I...” you started, but the words seemed to get caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected to feel the way you did. It was all so sudden, so intense, but so right at the same time.

Before you could say anything else, Sirius closed the space between you, capturing your lips with his in a kiss so gentle, so filled with all the things neither of you had said yet. It was like the world tilted on its axis, everything falling into place in that single moment, and you melted into him, every part of you finally coming alive.

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, slow and soft, as though neither of you wanted to rush it. There was no hurry, no urgency—just the need to be close, to feel the heat of one another, to bridge the gap that had existed between you for so long.

The night air wrapped around you both as you stood there, lost in each other. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness you hadn’t expected, as though he was savoring every second of it. And you did too. Every part of you ached, but in the best way.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The stars above seemed to shimmer a little brighter as the silence settled in, comfortable and quiet.

“Are you sure about this?” you whispered, your breath still shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

Sirius smiled, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned into him again, your lips meeting his once more. This time, it was more urgent, more heated, as though the dam had finally broken and all the emotions you had kept hidden were rushing out in a surge of desire.

His hands slid to your back, pulling you closer, his lips tasting yours with a passion that left you breathless. And for the first time in your life, you didn’t have to question whether this was right. With Sirius Black, you felt like you had finally found a place where you belonged.

And as you pulled away just enough to catch your breath, he whispered against your lips, “I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

And that was enough. That was all you needed to hear.

The night was young, the stars were shining down on you, and for the first time, everything felt perfect.

And you were lost in him—completely and utterly lost.

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