#and this is less than half the playlist

[rhpsdys]

RAEDA SONGS FROM MY RAINE PLAYLIST :

for the full playlist, click here !

JULIET, cavetown — raine pov i wanna make / a color that no one else has seen before / i wanna be so much more / i hope that she / looks at me and thinks, "shit, he is so pretty" / something I can't believe ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the entire playlist is in chronological order; this song is representative of the earliest stages of their relationship, when they were teenagers && still just friends — all of raine's ambitions mixed with their feelings for eda, && how swept up in her they became

SONGBIRD, fleetwood mac — both pov and the songbirds are singing, / like they know the score / and i love you, i love you, i love you / like never before / and i wish you all the love in the world / but most of all, i wish it from myself ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this song is from when they're older, but the relationship is still fairly fresh... maybe two years in. i can actually imagine this being one of the songs that they wrote && sang together. totally not inspired by this art at all, nope.

OPHELIA, the lumineers — raine pov oh, ophelia / you've been on my mind girl since the flood / oh, ophelia / heaven help a fool who falls in love ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this song occurs as things starts to get difficult ; they're still together, but raine is starting to feel doubt about eda's honesty && how long they can sustain this relationship.

WOULD THAT I, hozier — raine pov with the war of the fire / my heart moves to its feet / like the ashes of ash / i saw eyes in the heat / feel it soft and as pure as snow / fell in love with the fire long ago / with each love i could lose / i was never the same / watch it still live in roofs / be consumed by the flame / i was fixed on your hand of gold / lay in waste of my lovin' long ago ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ raine truly loves eda, she's someone they want to fight for, && they have so much admiration for her; this song is evidence of their affection. it's the calm before the storm, as they gather the resolve to make a difficult choice,

NEVER LOVE AN ANCHOR, the crane wives — eda pov on some level, i think i always understood / that a ship could never really love an anchor / so, i did the only thing that i could / and severed the rope to set you sailing from my harbor / ... / and you'll never see the reasons i had / for keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this song isn't actually about a romantic relationship, but it's also the quintessential breakup song anyway, && it's so very eda. this is her pushing raine away, believing they deserve better && not wanting them to see her at her lowest point, not wanting them to be burdened.

BECAUSE DREAMING COSTS MONEY, MY DEAR, mitski — eda pov darling, play your violin / i know it's what you live for / darling, play your violin / we will manage somehow / don't dare regret anything / remember what you're here for, you / just play your violin / and we will manage somehow ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the actual breakup — eda's understanding an acceptance of raine's decision, especially knowing that they plan to finally join the bard coven && pursue the music career they'd put on hold for her for so long.

AVALANCHE, leonard cohen (cover by aimee mann) — eda pov i have begun to long for you, / i who have no need / i have begun to wait for you, / i who have no need / you say you've gone away from me, / but I can feel you when you breathe / do not dress in those rags for me / i know you are not poor / you don't love me quite so fiercely now / when you know that you are not sure ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ post!breakup, eda's subsequent regret && bitter understanding.

TALK, hozier — raine pov i won't deny i've got in my mind now all the things we'd do / so i'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i'm imaginin' you ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this could be another diegetic song, in that it's something raine could've written, especially with the earlier lyrics referencing the mythology of orpheus && eurydice. early in the breakup, eda is still on raine's mind a lot, reflective of their immediate regret.

ANGELINE THE BAKER, sam kelley — raine pov angeline the baker would now be 43, / and it's been over 20 years since she said she'd marry me / ... / oh angeline the baker, oh angeline i know / i should've married angeline, oh many years ago ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a later song, also diegetic. much closer to canon, when eda is in the public eye a lot. raine is reflecting back on that time in their life with more fondness than before ; they miss her, but they do accept it for what it is to be able to talk ( write && sing ) about it openly. raine also had intended to marry eda back then. it was something they'd talked about, but there was never an actual proposal.

IF IT'S TRUE, hadestown — eda pov if it's true what they say / if there's nothing to be done / if it's true that it's too late / and the girl i love is gone / if it's true what they say / is this how the world is? / to be beaten and betrayed and then be told that nothing changes? / it'll always be like this? / if it's true what they say / i'll be on my way ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ set during follies at the coven day parade. eda && raine's confrontation in the alley, when raine has to make eda believe they've completely forgotten about everything && that they don't want anything to do with her.

RULE #2 - MOONLIGHT, fish in a birdcage — raine pov it's good to hear your voice / i'll tell you what the world looks like from up here / there's hurricanes and blizzards too / please stay safe and warm 'til I get to you / all i need is to come home to you / all i want is to be close to you / all i need is to come home to you / all i want is to be with you ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ set after follies at the coven day parade. raine's resolve to keep fighting && protect eda no matter what.

MARRY ME A LITTLE, company (cover by eleri ward) — raine pov you can be my best friend / i can be your right arm / we'll go through a fight or two / no harm, no harm / we'll look not too deep / we'll go not too far / we won't have to give up a thing / we'll stay who we are / right? / okay, then / i'm ready / i'm ready now / ... / marry me a little / body, heart, and soul / passionate as hell / but always in control / want me first and foremost / keep me company / that's the way it ought to be / i'm ready / i'm ready now ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ post-canon. a callback to "angeline the baker" as well. able to settle down together at last, raine is able to finally propose to eda. honestly, this one could be diegetic. it feels like something they'd write, && do in a song.

[bbb-bbbbbbb]

another album art inspired one- all colorpicked aside from benreys eyes

[vriskabot]

[roarinsaurus]

DISPROPORTIONATE amount of shawn/lassiter compared to gus/shawn. all i'm saying.....

[stairset]

Youtube NEEDS to stop showing the date a video was published. I made a playlist of my favorite AMVs cause I was bored and felt like it and every time I found one that I watched back in middle school and it said 10 or more years ago I wanted to kill myself.

[diluc33rpm]

2/3 A song that makes you think about love?

[britneyshakespeare]

wow. 8tracks was an objectively shitty music streaming website. you guys remember when we were all using it?

[grunge-mermaid]

decided to make a playlist of my eurovision faves & the backlog as long as my parents' Lifespan So Far is a little daunting so I revived my playlist of number one songs on my birthday every year and let me tell you October is a dark time for music

[cherrycolored-punk]

still frames - bestfriend! e.m. x fem! reader

author’s note: reminiscing about the friend I had in high school, the one who I’d create playlists with and who’d call to play his guitar for me every night. and you can’t tell me that Eddie isn’t the same type of dude. the sweet bits are based on the reminiscing. the rest is pure fiction with our favorite goof. anyways, enjoy!🧡

w/c: 5k

warnings: angst, pining, smut (oral - reader receiving, protected p in v), spanking, teasing, uhhhh let me know if I forgot anything

‼️ THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MINORS DNI ‼️

Raindrops race down your living room window in lines, and you watch them from your spot on the floor. It’s fall, and the lush greens of summer have begun to change color; their leaves now varying hues of orange and yellow. They create a coziness in your apartment, a warmth that feels like it envelops you and is amplified by the scent of your favorite candle; crisp apple, nectar, and warm clove spice fill your lungs with each breath you take.

Eddie lays beside you on his stomach, focusing on his phone and the playlist you created for him.

The playlists were a tradition since middle-school, a way to introduce each other to a new sound or a band the other might not have heard of. For some time, though, you’d been using it to send cryptic messages, and he hadn’t caught on. 

Your crush on Eddie came suddenly but was felt all at once. 

It was a spring morning nearly two years ago, and you’d laid dying in bed, except not really. You just had the flu, but you felt close to death and had texted him as much.

Eddie: what do you need?

You: hit me with your van, stab me in the face…please end my suffering.

He, of course, didn’t grant your wish, but he’d shown up at your apartment after work with a grocery bag full of supplies. Eddie was still wearing his navy coveralls covered in oil and smelled like grease. From what you could smell, anyway. You could barely breathe through your nose.

“I got you theraflu tea, and I don’t want to hear you complain about the taste. You just need to drink it,” he scolded before you could even complain. 

Your jaw snapped shut.

“Also got your favorite soup, four cans,” he held his fingers up, “orange juice, Vicks, popsicles in case your throat hurts, those saltines you like, and,” he turned, “I brought Scream for us to watch since I know it’s your favorite.”

It hit you like a ton of bricks, made your heart stutter, and nearly stop. 

It was the way he was smiling, the familiar excited gleam in his eye as he looked at you. It was the fact that he’d shown up after a twelve-hour shift with all your favorite sick foods in tow. 

Your eyes traced over his face like you were seeing him for the first time. The sharp edge of his jaw, the plump of his lips, the freckles that dotted the slope of his nose, and when did Eddie become so beautiful?

You’d tried blaming it on the fact that less oxygen was getting to your brain and a virus was wrecking your immune system, but now you didn’t have the same excuse. Now you couldn’t look at Eddie without noticing the pinks of his cheeks or the different smiles he had. Couldn’t be around him without yearning to hug him or hold him in a way that didn’t scream just friends.

The past year and a half had been overwhelming, the yearning making you feel hollow. Like if you didn’t say something, it would continue to eat you alive, but telling him ran the risk of ruining the friendship and that was a fate worse than being alone.

You glance over to the playlist he’s listening to, at the song playing, and clench your eyes shut.

Despite the music in your ears, you can hear the song reverberating off the walls of your skull. The one you heard that made you think of him. It plays in your head, having memorized every lyric and the way the singer’s voice influxes with certain words.

Bet you never knew it

Think you’d suit me just fine

And you know he’ll never get it, never know you’re hopelessly in love with him.

You close your eyes and focus on the song, one he chose specifically for you. 

Good Riddance plays soft, a break from the heavy metal he always added but not a song you hadn’t heard before. It brings a sense of nostalgia in the form of a lump in your throat, and you swallow hard, images of high school flashing through your mind like a retro view-master. It feels like yesterday and another lifetime all at once. The plays you were in, the various games you cheered at, going to Corroded Coffin’s shows, staying over at Eddie’s house, the first time he’d convinced you to join a campaign…the face of “I told you so” when you told him you had actually enjoyed it.

Eddie pulls the earbud from your ear, auburn hair tickling you where it meets your bare shoulder and interrupting your reminiscing. You turn to him, curious eyes meeting his steady gaze. 

“What is it?” you question with a quirk of your brow, unable to decipher the expression that colored his features. 

“Curious choice of songs here,” his voice carries a teasing lilt as he turns onto his side, facing you. 

You could feel his gaze on you, searching your features for the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet. 

“How do you figure?” you turn, matching his pose, and rest your chin on your palm.

Eddie thought for a moment, his eyes turning up and to the left as he searched for the words. 

He looks handsome as ever, pale skin glowing from the light of your candle. Cinnamon eyes lit with a hint of mischief and something you couldn’t name. 

His eyes shift down and meet yours, a broad dimpled smile slotting into place. 

“Something tells me you have a crush on someone,” and your heart practically drops into your ass at his words.

“A crush?” You ask, half-laughing at his accusation in an attempt not to vomit.

“Oh, don’t play coy. Every song on here drones on about love,” he points to his phone, his eyebrows pushed into his bangs. 

“They’re just good songs, Edward,” you shove his head and lay flat on your back, but he follows your movements, hovering over you. Close enough that you can smell the spearmint of his gum and the cologne he wears; musk and smoked suede. It makes your mouth water, his proximity making your heart lurch in your ribcage. 

“I never said they weren’t good, Princess.” 

Your hand reaches out to push his face away at the nickname, but he catches your wrist in his grasp, a cocky smile spreading wide on his lips. 

“What happened to us not questioning the playlist, Munson? Isn’t that rule number one since day one?” You attempt to fight your wrist out of his grasp, but it remains firm. 

“Let go,” you grumble, and he shakes his head.

“Not until you tell me,” he counters.

“Tell you what?” you stop fighting, and your arm falls back near your head, his fingers still wrapped around it as though he were pinning you there. 

“Who is it?” he shrugs, but you don’t miss how his adam’s apple bobs as he asks. 

You wonder if Eddie can hear how your heart hammers, your senses overwhelmed by his sudden inquisition. 

“There isn’t anyone,” but your gaze turns from him, and he knows you’re lying. 

“Not good enough,” he shakes his head.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I need to know,” you look back at him. The need you’d felt for the past year reflected in his gaze.

Time slows.

“Why?” your voice is softer, barely above a whisper. Breath held as you wait for his answer. 

He lets go of your wrist and settles back at your side, reaching for his phone as you watch him. The anticipation of his response pushing you closer to cardiac arrest. 

Eddie pulls out your other earbud and places one of his own in your ear. 

I Want You plays, and you recognize the familiar sound of Mitski’s voice. One that is full of yearning and a palpable sorrow. You look at him with a curious upturn of your brow, a silent question, and he turns the screen of his phone towards you. 

It’s a new playlist, one you hadn’t seen, and it bears a simple title: your name. 

A million thoughts race through your head, but you can’t find the words or the right question. 

“Mitski?” You decide to tease, your cheeks warm as the feelings rush through you. The realization that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles, but it’s full of affection, and his face leans closer—his gaze darts between your eyes and the swell of your lips. 

Your mouth parts in anticipation, eyes fluttering shut as your head lifts to meet him halfway. 

A small gasp escapes your lips at the first contact, his lips softer than you’d ever imagined. Slotting perfectly together with yours. He tasted like the gum he chewed and the soda he’d had; sweeter than you thought he’d be.

Eddie’s hand cups your face, gently holding your jaw as his thumb rubs the apple of your cheek. Holding you almost reverently. 

The kiss deepens as he pulls you on top of him, his tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, asking for permission. Your tongue swipes against his in response, and you swallow the moan he feeds you - fingers tangling in the fabric of his black t-shirt as he holds you to him. 

His large hand wanders down your back and over the curve of your ass, gripping the dough of it. You can’t help the circle of your hips as you grind against his thigh. Chasing the friction you so desperately need. 

Your lungs begin to ache as the kiss deepens, desperate for oxygen but more so for his touch, and you roll over, pulling his weight on top of you. Enjoying the feel of his body pressed into yours, and his knee slotted between your legs. 

Eddie pulls away, taking a deep breath to fill his burning lungs, and you chase his fleeting lips - eyes still closed. He chuckles, rubbing your cheek affectionately - memorizing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your body underneath him.

You breathe in deeply, gaze finally meeting his, and the first thing you notice is the flush of his cheeks. Then the way his brown eyes are almost obsidian; darkened with need. His nose brushes yours as he leans in for another kiss, just as soft as the first but quick so he can look at you again. 

“Are you finally going to tell me who it is?” He questions, lips hovering over your jaw, and you can barely breathe. Anticipating his touch. 

You shrug your shoulder, not ready to admit to defeat. 

“Couldn’t tell you, just some guy,” you play with the collar of his shirt, acting aloof. 

“Just some guy,” he repeats with a shake of his head, pressing a kiss to the space between your jaw and your ear. 

Your breath comes out shaky, and you can only nod.

“Was hoping it was me, Princess,” he kisses down your neck causing goosebumps to sprout along your arms.

His lips press against the skin of your shoulder, pushing at the strap of your dress with his mouth to nudge it out of the way. 

The curve of his lips is a whisper above your skin, his head dipping down and tracing the tops of your breasts. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel his mouth over every inch of your body. 

He stops abruptly, his head lifting back to hover over yours with a mocking grin. Enjoying how he already affects you, the way you whine when you don’t get what you want. 

“As if you don’t know the answer,” you gruff, and he leans in, shaking his head. 

“I want to hear you say it,” he whispers, face inches from yours—a dare. 

The stubborn part of you wants to deny it, wants to keep the secret close in case this was all in jest, but there’s another part that yearns to hear him say it too. To hear him say it back. For it to be more than a private playlist with your name attached.

“It’s you,” and you almost want to disappear. To sink into the floor or to be swallowed whole. Despite the kiss, despite the way his body presses closer to yours when he finally hears you say the quiet part out loud. Saying it out loud made it real, the threat of losing him as a friend more imminent. 

But his mouth is back on yours, more fervent than before. His hand traces up your thigh and grips the soft flesh. Pressing himself against you. 

You kiss him back with just as much need, an eager hand pushing at the hem of his shirt until you feel his skin. The curve of your nails drags lightly down his abdomen, stopping just above his belt. Enjoying the way the coarse hairs that lead into his pants feels against your fingers. Your other hand curls in his hair, holding his face to yours. 

Eddie shudders at the sensation, a small gasp spilling from his lips as they leave yours. You look at him through hooded eyes, a slight grin slotting into place when you notice his flushed cheeks and hair slightly disheveled. 

Energy thrums through you, making your heart pound. God, you want to make him gasp like that again.

“Was that so hard?” He questions, his expression a little cocky despite his breathlessness, and if you weren’t so eager to kiss him again you might just push his face from yours. 

“Shut up,” you say affectionately and kiss him again. 

Soft, sweet. Relishing in the feel of his lips until it isn’t enough. Until the carnal hunger can’t be ignored. 

Your tongue swipes against his lower lip, and you suck it between your own. Swallowing his low moan. The palm of your hand trails lower, small fingers wrapping around his handcuff belt. Breath caught in your throat until it makes your lungs burn, and you pull away. 

Eddie watches you, your slow, languid movements causing him to hold his breath in anticipation. His long, callused fingers push up, up, up until you feel them beneath your panties, matching your pace, creating a line of fire wherever they meet your skin. 

His belt falls open with a rumble of metal, and he presses his forehead to yours; hand gripping your ass, fingers spreading you apart, and edging closer to your center. 

Your palm rubs against his coarse pubic hairs as you slide your hand further into his boxers, a small gasp escaping your lips when your fingers rub against the warm length of his arousal. Eddie is bigger than you had imagined, and you’d spent plenty of time picturing him while in bed. Legs spread and fingers working you over the edge. But this is better than a daydream. 

His cock jumps against your palm as you wrap your fingers along his shaft, exploring the soft skin and the thick vein that lines his length. Your thumb brushes against his tip, collecting the pre-cum that leaks from it. 

Dark eyes watch as you remove your hand and bring your thumb to your mouth, tongue swirling against your digit before sucking it clean. 

A groan escapes Eddie’s lips, his jaw slack. Eyes hooded with need. 

His next movements are fast, quicker than your mind can keep up with.

He flips you onto your stomach, mouth racing down your back eagerly; needy hands pushing the fabric of your dress up until your ass is exposed. 

“This okay,” he questions, fingers hooked on the lace of your panties, and you whine, ass wiggling eagerly beneath him in response. He slaps the fat of it, a cocky laugh falling from his lips, but he wastes no time.

Eddie tosses your panties over his head absently; gaze focused on the swell of your butt. He hooks an arm around your waist and drags you up on all fours until you’re bared to him. His hands are on your ass like an anchor as he dips his head closer. 

The scruff of his beard scrapes against your soft skin, his warm breath felt against your spine. Each kiss is slow and deliberate, felt in your core as his lips trail down the small of your back and over the valley of your ass. He grips your cheeks and spreads them, revealing the rim of your ass and your glistening cunt. 

“So fucking pretty,” and he practically whimpers at the sight, grabbing his cock to adjust the strain against his jeans. 

He traces his middle finger over your slit and to your bundle of nerves, creating a circle around the bud; a sensation that makes your hips jolt, a soft moan escaping your lips. 

You breathe in sharply when you feel the nudge of his nose against your sex, his tongue swiping along your folds. Savoring the way you taste. 

He teases you, tongue flicking against your clit before swiping towards your aching center and stretching you over his tongue. A guttural moan escapes your lips, your nails digging into the plush of your carpet at the sensation. 

Eddie buries his face deeper, pushing his tongue further into you with a groan that vibrates through you. 

“Oh my god,” you keen, reaching behind and knotting your hands into his hair. You grind against his face, eyes rolling as his tongue darts in and out of your sopping cunt. Fingers pressing into your clit. 

“Fuck,” he moans, voice gruff. 

His tongue laps at your arousal, middle finger prodding your entrance. You release his head, bracing against the carpet. He stretches you inch by inch before adding another, his digits curling inside you. Slowly, he begins to pump them into you, hitting a spot that makes your breath catch in your throat. You clench around him, the orgasm already building.

“Eddie,” you whine, spurring his movements to quicken. For his mouth to wrap around your clit and flick his tongue against it, eager for you to come undone.

You ride his fingers, desperate for the release and out of your mind with need. Body humming, warmed over from the intensity of your arousal.

“Gonna come for me, Princess?” 

You nod your head, pushing your pussy back against him. Desperate for his tongue on your sensitive bud. 

“S-so close,” you stammer. 

Every muscle in your body tenses, and you bury your face in the carpet as the feeling crashes over you. For a moment, you can’t breathe. The moan trapped in your throat and eyes clenched shut until, finally, your center unfurls. 

Your cunt flutters around Eddie’s fingers, and you moan his name as your legs begin to shake, but he doesn’t stop. He continues to pump his fingers into you, groaning at the noise it makes and the way your pussy grips him. His tongue flicks wildly against your clit, eliciting a loud groan to escape from your lips. Your legs shake more intensely as tears spring to your eyes. Bordering overstimulation. 

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you beg, and suddenly, he pulls his fingers from you. Fat tongue dragging against your wet heat and savoring every drop of your essence. 

He slaps your ass once. Twice. Leaving kisses where his hands were before and trailing them up your back, pushing the fabric of your dress up with him until he pushes it off entirely. 

He’s bent over you, torso pressed to your back. Hard arousal pressed to your sopping center. Warm breath felt against your neck as he whispers.

“Sound so fucking pretty, want to hear you again. Want to watch you.” 

He presses closer to you so you can feel just how badly he wants you, and you shudder. You match his movements, pushing your ass back against him, turning to watch the way his eyes close and his jaw clenches. 

“Do you have a condom?” You whisper, and his eyes open abruptly, searching yours.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, nodding his head late as though his body was just catching up with his thoughts. 

But he doesn’t move, and it makes you feel shy. A little unsure of yourself. You squirm beneath him and flip over so that you’re face-to-face. 

“We don’t have to,” you rub an absent hand against his face, trying not to think about the fact that you were mostly naked and he was hovering inches from you, fully clothed. 

Eddie shakes his head and leans closer.

“I want to,” he says with more conviction and kisses your cheek, brushing his lips along your jaw. 

“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to,” he whispers against your neck. 

His tongue swipes along your neck and nips at your soft flesh. A free hand wanders down your side, creating goosebumps in their path. 

“Have you thought of me?” You ask, dragging a hand down his sternum to the top of his still-open jeans. Your voice is teasing, heavy with a flirtation he’d never heard before, and he nods. No longer cocky, hovering above you but entirely at your mercy. 

“What have you thought about?” You push your hand back into his boxers and begin to stroke him, jaw going slack as you watch his eyes flutter shut. 

Eddie groans, the fingers at your side digging into your skin.

“Y-you in my bed,” he stammers, mind occupied by the feeling of your hand wrapped around his dick. Your grip tightens around him, your grasp firm as you pump his cock faster.

“Is that it?” You whisper against his mouth, nipping at the pout of his bottom lip. He follows your mouth as you pull away, and he shakes his head.

“Thought about how good you’d look as I fuck you,” his words are a little breathless, but they cause your thighs to clench. 

The movement isn’t lost on him. It spurs him on, the familiar cocky grin slotting into place—a glint of mischief in his eye. 

“You’ve thought of it too, haven’t you?” His nose brushes yours, lips hovering over your mouth as he waits for your response.

The shudder that runs through your body gives you away, and you nod. Hand still pumping his cock.

Eddie kisses you more tenderly than you expected. His lips soft against your own, relishing the feel of you. 

“How often?” He questions, mouth still hovering over yours. Hand tracing down your thigh and up again.

You try to concentrate, hand still working him but your rhythm unsteady as you debate to tell him the truth. 

“Every day,” you stroke him again, “sometimes twice a day.”

His mouth crashes against yours, all teeth and tongue. Your hand reaches from his boxers and begins to push at his jeans. He helps you, one hand next to your head, holding his weight above you, and the other helping push his jeans until he kicks them off. Eddie sits up and tugs off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his torso—the dark lines against his alabaster skin. You trace your fingertips over them, lips pressing against his chest as he reaches behind you and unclasps your bra. Eddie tosses the fabric aside, eyes fixated on the curve of your tits. 

“Fucking hell,” his voice is low, appreciative, and he reaches out to trace his fingers along your newly exposed skin. Your back arches into his touch, watching his thumb roll against your nipple and pinch the sensitive flesh between his fingers. A moan falls from your lips, and your head rolls back, legs closing around him.

His head dips to your neck, and he kisses down your chest, over the slopes of your breasts. 

Eddie’s tongue flicks and sucks, pulling your nipple between his teeth. One hand gripping your hip and leading you back down until you’re lying beneath him.

He reaches for his jeans and grabs his wallet, pulling a condom out. 

You stop him before he can unwrap it, “Wait.”

“Are you okay?” He stops and watches you with worry.

“Can we,” you pause, “can we go to my room? To the bed?”  

“Afraid of a little carpet burn, Princess?” He teases, and you swat his bicep, pushing at his chest so you can move past him. 

“Shut up, Munson,” you push his face, but he grabs your hand, standing and pulling you along with him. 

You turn from him to walk to your room, and he slaps your ass, causing you to yelp as you run away from him, your giggles filling the apartment. Eddie chases you, hand reaching out to slap your butt cheeks every so often until you reach the room and suddenly turn to face him.

His chest crashes against yours, and your chuckle dies when you look at him again. The desire in his eyes, the blush that’d crept into his cheeks, and the state of his hair. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him as he leads you to the bed.

Your back plops against the soft mattress, and he drags your ass to the edge, legs spread wide for him. 

He unwraps the condom and rolls the rubber down his shaft, one thumb drawing circles against your clit. Gathering your slick. 

You pant as he works you up, whining when he stops, only to jolt when his wrapped length rubs against your slick folds. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he inches into you, his eyebrows pushing together as your cunt wraps around his cock.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, gripping your hip with his free hand. 

Eddie is a stretch, but the feel of him pushing into you is delicious - every inch making your toes curl. 

“Oh,” you moan, and it’s all you can manage. Words turning to nonsense once he’s fully seated inside of you. 

He leans down and kisses you, lips hard against yours as his hips roll into you. His rhythm starts slow, pumping into you at a languid pace. Savoring the way you feel, the way your moans sound, and your naked chest feels pressed to his. 

His movements quicken, the snap of his hips growing louder as he juts into you. You pull away from his lips and dig your nails into his bicep. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes focused on where your bodies are connected. Watching the way your pussy sucks him in, clenches perfecting around his shaft, and the image of you draws him closer to the edge. 

Eddie pushes off the mattress, straightening your legs until they’re pressed against his torso, one foot resting on either side of his head. He has the perfect view of you; the bounce of your tits as he ruts into you, the way your mouth hangs open, and your eyes are entirely focused on him. 

He pounds his dick into you, one hand moving between your legs and drawing circles against your bud. 

“Eddie, ahh, oh fuck-” you grip his forearm as he continues to thrust every inch of his cock in and out of your sensitive cunt. 

“You like that, baby?” and you nod.

“Say it,” he groans, hips stuttering as he nears his pinnacle. 

“Feel so good, Eddie,” you moan, and the way you say his name makes him clench his jaw. Trying his best to maintain composure until you come.

“Going to come for me, sweetheart?” and it sounds like a demand. Your nails dig into his skin as you nod. 

Your eyes trace down his body, watching the movement of his hips and the way your ass reverberates with each movement. The image of him, the erotic sound of skin on skin, bringing you closer.

“Please,” you beg, back arching off the bed as you get closer. The rubber band at your center stretching thin and ready to snap.

Your legs fall from his shoulders and hook around his waist, pulling him closer. Deeper. Exactly where you need him. The tip of his cock nudges your spongy center, the orgasm building with each rock of his hips until it’s enough.

His name is on your lips like a prayer, vision white as the intensity of the orgasm pulses through you. 

“Baby,” he groans, the grip your pussy has on him causing his hips to stutter and the muscles in his abdomen to tighten as he reaches his peak. His hands grip your thighs, his dick twitching inside you as he spills into the condom.

You come down for your orgasm and watch him through hooded eyes—the flush of his pale skin, the sharp edge of his jaw.

So fucking pretty.

He releases his grip on your thighs and slowly inches out of you. 

You whine at the loss, already needy for more, and he gives you a cocky smirk. Eddie presses a quick kiss to your lips before disappearing down the hall, and you listen as the faucet squeaks, then off before he returns. 

He approaches you with a warm washcloth, and wipes your center before discarding it into your nearby hamper. 

You pull him forward, resting his weight against your body. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence. The only sound filling the room is your heavy breaths and the faint thrums of your hearts. 

“That was-,” and he can’t finish the sentence. Unable to find the right string of words.

Eddie pushes his weight off you, balancing on his hands and meeting your gaze. He leans closer, his nose tracing yours, and he kisses you softly—a hum vibrating against your lips when he releases your mouth.

“Decent,” you shrug and roll your eyes affectionately. Falling into your usual teasing.

“That was some of my best work, babe,” he gasps, feigning shock. Hand to his chest as he stands straight. 

Your heart skips at the nickname, but you try to hide it. Babe. 

“Guess you’ll have to show me again,” you shrug and push yourself further onto the bed. 

Eddie raises a devious brow and follows your movements, his body inching forward as yours inches back. 

“I can show you again,” he kisses you, “and again,” he kisses you once more, “as many times as it takes to convince you,” he promises.

[taeghi]

Tides of Regret by lee heeseung | (m)

♫ song : swim by chase atlantic

pairing : fwb!heeseung x reader + zb1 sung hanbin x reader

summary : being magnetically attracted to frat boy lee heeseung was a bad mistake. but, agreeing to be friends with benefits with him was an even worse one. getting caught in a relentless, toxic cycle together leads to facing the consequences of your choices with a grand moment of truth. will you be able to break free from the destructive tide, or will you remain trapped in the undertow of toxic love?

warnings : squirting lol, daddy kink, slapping, choking + more :D

word count : 22.5k

part of the enhypen playlist series

minors do NOT interact

taglist : @ipoststuffandyeah @ariadores @ramenoil @fluerz @skzenhalove @kgneptun

If there was one thing that you liked to do, it was party. You liked dancing, listening to, most of the time, shit music and hanging out with your friends. A good, any kind of party could always lift your mood. But, if there was one party you’d always try to avoid– it was frat parties. Especially the ones that were hosted at Lee Heeseung’s so-called notorious fraternity house. 

Lee Heeseung and the rest of the frat he belonged to were the embodiment of the classic frayboy archetype. And they didn’t have the best reputation. They were the self-proclaimed rulers of campus who liked to party way too much and break many hearts, especially the hearts of freshmen’s. 

So, you were understandably less than thrilled when Dayeon and Shana insisted we pay a visit to their den of debauchery this Friday night. 

Everyone who belonged in the frat were bad, but Lee Heeseung was definitely the most popular and the worst. He was all you heard about during the your freshmen year as all your friends were trying, or had hooked up with him. Now during your junior year, you hear about a new Lee Heeseung escapade at least once a week from either your friend, or overhearing it from some crying freshman in the library. 

Heeseung did not care about or who he hooked up with. As long as they were alive and had tits, he was into it. And although he had a long reputation about being a womanizer, he also had a reputation of being amazing at sex. 

Mixed along with all the broken-hearted-tears shed, there were constant rumours being spread about how easily he could make a girl cum. Which is a rare occurence with college frat boys. But everyone knew, that if you wanted to cum, go to Lee Heeseung. 

He intrigued you during the first half of your freshman year, the idea that a sophomore could make any girl cum. You fed into the rumours about his sex life, and all the kinks the fratboy allegedly took fancy of. One of those kinks being a daddy kink. Yes, a cliche one, but now, three years later, and it seems to be the only kink of his that everyone is aware of. Even your wide-eyed, almost innocent freshman friends come up to you and ask if it is true that the senior, Lee Heeseung has a daddy kink. 

You don’t know if it’s true, and you don’t want to know. You make an effort to stay away from the frat house of womanizing, except for tonight. 

“Y/n, you’ve gotta give this party a chance,” Dayeon says when she hears you sigh from your bed again. “I heard they’ve got an actual, killer DJ lined up for tonight!” 

You roll your eyes at your friend’s attempt to persuade you to want to enjoy the frat party tonight. “I don’t care about the DJ.” 

“Right, you just care about the guys who hired the DJ.” Shana smirks from her reflection in the mirror as she finishes her makeup. 

You roll over onto your stomach to look at your friend in the mirror, “I do not care about those awful frat boys, I care about the drama that seems to always follow them around. Drama, that is just not worth it.” 

Shana rolls her eyes playfully, starting to fix her black hair for the night. 

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Dayeon nudges your leg with hers, “We’ll stick together, and if Heeseung or any of the other frat guys try anything, I’ll smack them with my feminism 101 textbook.” 

You chuckle, appreciating Dayeon, “Fine, I’ll go and attempt to have fun. But if Heeseung or any of his minions come near me, I’m unleashing you, D.” 

With a grin, Dayeon jumps ontop of you, squeezing you into a bone-crushing hug. “Deal, this is gonna be a night to remember!” 

The three of you show up the Enha Tau fraternity house, you already wanted to leave. Of course, it was the loudest house on the block, with the music and cheers being able to be heard from streets away. The root of the cheap beer and sweat scent seemed to be in this house. 

The house was a sprawling two-story structure with large windows that flashing, neon lights were shooting out of and filling up the street and sky. The laughter and cheers that were coming from inside signaled that the party was in full swing. 

Shana oozed femininity in her pretty black dress that showcased her hourglass figure and matched her big doe eyes and full lips. Dayeon was dressed to make a statement like usual, her aura was one to not be fucked with as she was fierce and independent. You were sandwiched between them, feeling out of place in your oversized white blouse and black skirt, in the freezing night air. Together, you walked into the house, each one of your with very contrasting styles that reflected your contrasting personalities. 

An hour into the party, and the three of you have gotten immediately swept up in the lively atmosphere. Music throbbed through the overly crowded rooms, and the air was thick of alcohol, sweat and shit cologne. You tried your best to enjoy yourself, as you sipped on some wannabe fruity, vodka-laden drink. 

You were leaned against the fake fireplace wall, taking occasional sips of the drink. This was a far cry from what you were usually like at a party. But despite the energetic scene around you, you couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something was off about this party. The laughter and chatter blurred into an annoying symphony, and even the faux warmth of the fireplace couldn’t calm your chilled nerves. You knew that the only thing you wanted right now was the comfort of your own bed, but you couldn’t ditch Shana and Dayeon this early. So, you opted to stay at the wall and keep an eye out for them. 

Shana was the center of attention as always as she was surrounded by her giggly, cheerleading friends. Their faces painted with excitement as they vied for her attention. You watched as a cluster of guys were slowly, but surely making their way towards them to strike up a conversation. Which you knew would be useless since Shana would turn all of them done with her unmatched grace. 

Dayeon was not that far away from Shana in the living room, engaging in some passionate conversation with a group fo people you didn’t recognize. But you were sure that one of them was Sung Hanbin, staring at Dayeon with a smirk that you didn’t understand. This wasn’t his frat, so you wondered why he was here and not at his own frat’s party. You lost interest in watching him engage with Dayeon’s group when he looked over and winked right at you. 

You start to move away from Hanbin’s eyes and head to the kitchen to find something else than that colourful, awful fruit drink. The more you moved to the kitchen, the more the music and laughter muffled, creating a temporary reprieve from the chaos. The kitchen was swarmed with intoxicated college students, their voices slurring with their laughter as they looked for their next alcoholic drink. You stood near the table against the kitchen’s doorway, waiting for your turn and scanning the drink options from a far to find something more to your taste. 

You mentally decide on whatever the orange liquid is in the bowl that the drunk people seem to be getting more and more of, when a voice pierced through their slurred conversation, catching your attention. 

“What the fuck, get that asshole out of here, I do not want Hanbin here.” 

You’re about to turn your head to see the source of the confrontation, but your curiosity is cut short when a sudden, frigid splash of that wannabe fruit, vodka dense drink engulfs you. Your entire blouse drenched with liquid and the white fabric replaced with colour. Some laughter erupted from the drunk, kitchen bystanders, but you didn’t pay them any attention, instead you focused on the figure standing before you. 

In the dimly lit kitchen, it only took you a second to recognize your shirt’s perpetrator as Lee Heeseung. The notorious frat president that you had been hoping to avoid all night, now stood inches before you. His now empty cup, slowly dripped the remnants of vodka and his smug expression held a hint of mockery and shock as he looked down at you. 

You were stunned and unable to conceal your irritation as you locked eyes with Heeseung, who could only stare at your shirt. When you look down at the damage, your irritation fades to embarrassment as your pink lacey bra is on full sight as your white blouse is now see through from the drink. 

“Fuck.” you gasp, your arms coming up to cover your chest. Heeseung’s amused smirk remained as he surveyed the mess he had created, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he looks at your face of horror. “This isn’t funny, Heeseung.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s just a shirt,” he says, his tone light, “Besides, I think it looks better this way.” 

Your irritation and scowl grew bigger, “I can’t believe you just said that, fuck you.” 

Heeseung’s smirk doesn’t waver at your words, “Okay, okay, I get it. My bad,” he said, offering a shrug, “But don’t worry, I’ll give you a new shirt that you can borrow.”

His casual offer took you by surprise in your current, evident discomfort, “Fine.”

Heeseung smiled, his eyes dancing with mischief, “Okay, come upstairs with me to get one.” 

You hesitated for a moment before saying, “No!” 

Heeseung quirked an eyebrow up at you, “What? You wanna change in the kitchen?” 

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I'll come upstairs, but I’m not having sex with you.” 

Heeseung laughs heartily, “Relax, we’re just getting you a new shirt, right?” 

“Right.” 

As you make your way upstairs, you made note to not grab his hand like all the other people going upstairs together. Your steps are deliberate and your expression was a mix of annoyance and determination. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why you’d agreed to his offer except to avoid more humiliation. 

Heeseung’s room was a typical representation of a college frat boys living space, no surprises. It was chaos with clothes thrown across the floor, empty bottles every where and textbooks and papers spread all over what looks to be a desk. The posters of sport teams and bands was the only sense of familiarity in the room. 

As Heeseung rummaged through his drawers that barely closed, searching for a suitable shirt to give you, your eyes inadvertently landed on a pair of women’s underwear on the floor. You quickly averted your eyes, disgust filling you more as you took in your surrounding. 

With a shirt in hand, Heeseung turns toward you, who tells you to change in the bathroom that’s connected to his room. You close the door, leaving it slightly ajar as you turn away from it. You hear Heeseung sit on his bed as he waits for you. He has to physically force himself to look away from his bathroom door where he could see your reflection in the mirror, the hint of your stomach being shown as you start to lift your wet shirt off. He stares at his Red Sox poster instead. 

“You’re Angel, right?” his voice asked as you wipe the stickiness off of your chest. 

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone guarded. You glanced at his busy reflection in the mirror, moving to the side so you’re hidden away from his sight. 

“You’re friends with Shana and Dayeon, right?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of recognition. 

You roll your eyes, your exasperation with the situation evident in your response, “Yeah, I am.” The connection to your vivacious friends was clearly the point of reference for him, something that only added to your frustration. 

When you come out of his bathroom, his shirt way too big for you and tucked into one side of your skirt, Heeseung feels light headed. He has never, ever given his clothes to a girl before, and he definitely didn’t think it would have this much of an effect on him. The way his shirt fits him perfectly, but has you swimming it makes his cock twitch, but he snaps back into reality and focuses on your scowl instead. 

“I’ll give you the shirt back next week,” you tell him with a serious tone as you make your way towards the bedroom door. 

“Nah, it’s fine, you can keep it.” he tells you with a shrug. 

“I do not want to keep your shirt, Heeseung.” you tell him with a tone of disgust. 

“Fine, fine, whatever.” Heeseung replies, he lets his back hit his mattress as his feet remain on the floor. 

You roll your eyes and continue to leave, stopping with your hand on the door handle with a sigh, “But, thanks, for letting me borrow it.” 

Heeseung sits up on his elbows, “No problem, sorry for ruining your other one.” 

Without another word, you open the door and leave. You pull out your phone and text your friends that you’re leaving in five minutes and to meet at the front door if they want to come with you. 

When you finally get to the front door through the large crowd of people, Shana and Dayeon are there waiting for you. 

Through her glazed eyes and slurred voice Shana asks, “Whose shirt is that?” 

“Don’t ask.” you reply briefly, trying to ignore Heeseung’s cologne, and head straight through the front door, ignoring Dayeon’s and Shana’s confused expressions as they follow you. 

You successfully dodged your friends questions about the shirt all weekend. And this morning you stuffed the shirt in your bag before they could see and headed straight to where you knew Heeseung and his friends usually hung out at school. 

Thankfully, you found him quickly so you wouldn’t have to worry about it for the rest of the day. He was standing against the wall, his backpack slung around one shoulder as he talked with his friends. His back was towards you so he didn’t see you coming, but one of his friends nodded towards you to get his attention. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Heeseung greets when he turns to see you. 

“Hey, here’s your shirt back,” you hand him his folded shirt. 

“Thanks, but you really could’ve kept it,” 

You want to reply that you’d never want another one of his shirts again but one of his friends, Choi Beomgyu you think, speaks up. 

“Ouu, did you and Heeseung have fun up in his room the other night.” Beomgyu wiggles his eyebrows with his words. 

Your eyes narrowed, your frustration bubbling up again, “No, we did not.” you snap at the group who all have teasing eyes. 

Another one, Song Eunseok pipes up with an exaggerated smirk, “Oh, come on Y/n. Heeseung’s not usually the type to hand out spare shirts.” 

Your anger flared up and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I don’t care what you think. You don’t know anything about what happened that night, so just shut up.” 

You turn on your heel and storm of, leaving Heeseung with a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He wanted to speak, to help you, but he couldn’t help but keep quiet amongst his friends. As you disappeared around the corner, his smile faltered, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of remorse for the way his friends had teased you. 

Throughout the week, you had tried your best to bury the memories of Lee Heeseung, his friends and the frustration that came with them. You needed focus on your studies and yourself, but you could not get rid of the residual annoyance that seemed to cling to your mind. 

You had been looking forward to this weekend, anticipating an actual good party to help relieve your stress and temporarily escape the unease the had plagued you last weekend. On Friday evening, you and Dayeon had started getting ready to head over to your friends’ party. The whole time you knew your aim was to let loose and forget all complications of your college life. 

Just as you were finishing up, Dayeon’s phone rang. You watched her confusedly glance at the caller ID before she showed it you. 

Wonyoung

  Answer?

Wonyoung was on the cheerleading team with Shana and was friends with her, so you were confused as t why she would be called Dayeon. 

Dayeon answers with a quick, ‘Hello’, and you watch as her face contorts into concern as she continues to listen to the other line. When she hangs up she turns to you with a disappointed face. 

“What?” you ask her. 

“Shana’s really drunk, and she needs someone to come pick her up.” 

With a heavy sigh you nod, “Alright, let’s go get her. Where is she?” 

Dayeon nervously chuckles, “Uh, yeah, she’s uh, at Enha Tau.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Really? She has to be there, of all places?” Dayeon nods her head, “Let’s go get her, as quick as possible.” 

The two of you left your party plans behind, exchanging irritation and concern for their friend as they headed to the awful frat house. You couldn’t believe you were returning to the palace that had caused you so much annoyance, but you knew that Shana needed you. Friends come first, even if it meant dealing with Lee Heeseung. 

Dayeon and you both split up when you arrived at the large frat house, thinking that it would be faster to find your friend if you took different sides of the mansion. The house was filled with college students like the week before, all dancing, listening to music and drinking. You had to weave in and out of the crowed, while searching for a familiar head of black  hair. 

“Well, well, well, back for some more fun, Y/n?” a voice asks you as you head into the kitchen to look for Shana. 

You turn at the sound of your name and stop when you realize it’s Heeseung talking to you. “God, no. I’m just looking for Shana and then I’m leaving.”

Heeseung pouts as he looks around into the living room, “I haven’t seen her all night.” 

You scoff, “Thanks, see ya.” you turn on your heel, but his voice stops you again. 

“Y/n, wait,” he speaks, and when he sees that you do he continues, “Why’re you always so irritated with me?” 

His question takes you aback, your frustration simmering just beneath the surface, “Because I don’t want to be titled as another one of your whores.” you retort, your words laced with bitterness. 

It’s Heeseung’s turn to scoff as he juts out his hand and latches onto your arm, he ignores your complaints as he drags you over to a quiet hallway attached to the kitchen. He lets go of your arm when it’s silent, your back against the wall as he stands in front of you. 

“You can’t be seen with me without being called a whore?” 

“What?” you ask, “Don’t act like you aren’t aware of your whole fuckboy reputation.” 

Heeseung’s eyes hold amusement as they lock with your own, “Okay, I like to have sex, what’s wrong with that?” 

“N-nothing.” you stutter pathetically. 

Heeseung smirks and moves closer to you, “You won’t be called one of my whores Y/n, you’re so different from them.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I could treat you so much better than any of them, if you’d let me.” Heeseung ducks his head down so it’s level with your own. His body is only inches away from you now, “Would you let me, Y/n?” 

You gulp as your thoughts start to race. Heeseung’s charm was undeniable as his smirk never wavered as he watched you take in his words. This seductive game he started was ending quick and he was winning. 

“Why would I let you if I could get fucked better by someone else?” your voice comes out softer than your words are and it makes Heeseung laugh. 

“No one could fuck you as good as me, Y/n, and you know that, you’ve heard that.” 

You roll your eyes at his cockiness, “Yeah, sure, and I’ve also heard about your daddy kink.” 

You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, but Heeseung only bites his lip to hide his smile, “Yeah? And what about you, Y/n? Do you have a daddy kink?” 

You gulp again, confused on how you’ve even ended up in this situation so quickly. You know you should be looking for Shana but Lee Heeseung has you trapped against his body and the wall and your panties feel like they’re starting ot stick to your core. 

Your lack of a response makes Heeseung smirk, “C’mon Y/n, let me show you how good I can make you feel. Let me prove it to you.” 

Heeseung starts to move his head in closer, you can practically feel his lips ontop of yours, feel his warmth all over your front as your back feels the cool wall. You give in and move your up to meet his, but he moves his away, tsking at you. 

“Tell daddy that you’ll be a good girl and let him make you feel good. Tell him you want this.” 

His voice makes your knees buckle. The fact that he’s referring to himself as daddy makes you want to have him right here, right now in this closed off hallway. 

“I want you to make me feel good, I want this.” your voice comes out in a whisper as you confess to him. 

A harsh slap lands on your left thigh from his hand, making you yelp out. 

“Who do you want to make you feel good?” 

You gulp as you say, “Daddy.” 

Heeseung’s hand covers your throat as he speaks, “Good girl.” 

Heeseung smashes his lips onto yours. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions coursed through you. The kiss held so much desire, yet you knew you shouldn’t be doing it. But as your mouths moved in an intoxicating rhythm, a push and pull of  sexual attraction only made you want to continue. You lost yourself in the kiss, well aware of the potential consequences that can occur as you finally succumb to the charms of Lee Heeseung. 

Heeseung was quick to pull you up into his room that you were in for the first time last week. This time, as you walked up the stairs, you held his hand as you allowed him to lead you. 

Heeseung didn’t hesitate to lay you down on his bed, your back against his mattress and hair sprawled out across his white pillowcase. His hands roamed your sides as you continued to makeout. Your hands latched onto the hair of the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

Though, he wasn’t so close for long as he pulled back, his lips wet and swollen that probably matched your own. 

“Are you sure you want this, Y/n?” he asks you as he looks into your eyes. 

“Yes, daddy.” it startles you for a second of how quick you are to respond. 

Heeseung bites his lips at your reply, but his tone is serious when he speaks, “No, really, you want this? Because, just tell me to stop and I will.” 

You let your hands drop from his shoulders and squeeze his hand that’s resting on your hip, “I want this, Heeseung, really.” 

Heeseung smiles softly at you, “Okay,” and he leans in to press a long, less lustful kiss onto your lips. When he pulls away, his usual smirk and devious gleam in his eyes are back, “Now be a good girl for daddy, yeah?’ 

“Yes, daddy.” you tell him, loving the affect you have on him everytime the word slips from your mouth. 

“Daddy wants to show you how good he can make you feel, show you no one else can make you feel as good as I can.” he speaks inbetween words as he presses kisses down your jaw and neck. “Think you can handle that?” 

“Please, daddy,” You begged, anticipating what you’ve only ever heard of from other people. Anticipating if Lee Heeseung was really as good as they say. And so far, you believed it. 

His warm hands started to pull down the thin straps of your dress, the fabric releasing and allowing your tits to be freed to his eyes. Your pink nipple perked up immediately as his index and thumb twisted around it. You let out a soft moan at the feeling, your hips bucking up into his from such a small movement. 

Heeseung chuckled as he spoke, “That feel good, already?” You nodded in response, wanting to feel more of it. Suddenly the twisting pleasure was removed by a sharp slap on your nipple instead, a gasp leaving your mouth as your back arched up. “Use your words, baby.” 

“Y-yes, daddy. That felt good, daddy,” you nodded up at him as your body ached for more of him. 

Heeseung hums against your other nipple in response. Sucking it into his mouth and circling it with his warm tongue. His hands pushed your dress lower down your body, leaving you bare except for your panties. 

Heeseung’s hands continue their descent as his fingers push your panties aside. He doesn’t hesitate ot slip his middle finger inbetween your wet folds. You whine, your fingers tightening their hold onto his sheets as he starts to find a pace to finger fuck you. 

“Fuck, who’re you so wet for baby, hm?” Heeseung asks you, his voice sultry as his eyes move from where his fingers diapppear inside of you to your face. 

“You daddy, so wet and messy just for you,” you tell him honestly. 

Heeseung obviously likes your response as he slips in his index finger as well. Both of his fingers start to work inside your mesh walls, finding your g spot so quickly. You let out a moan of pleasure and relief. You’ve never had a guy finger you so well before, usually you just have to fake it or deal with it until they’re bored. But, looking down at Heeseung, he genuinely looks like he loves fingering you. He’s so obviously paying attention to what makes you moan and squirm, and god, he’s already gotten you so close to the edge. 

“You can cum for me, baby.” Heeseung reads your mind, your body. His lips press deep kisses onto your lower abdomen, biting and sucking the area as his fingers don’t slow down their pace. “Cum all over my fingers, show me what a good girl you can be for daddy.” 

With the final referral of himself as daddy, your body is sent into a climax you oh, so needed. Your body arched upwards off of his mattress, your fingers twist in his sheets as you try to ground yourself as the pleasure takes over you. You could hear Heeseung encouraging you, praising you in a blur of your climax. 

When you came down, panting and shocked that a man could make you cum so fast and good on hisi fingers, Heeseung could only laugh into your skin. You let him slip of your soaked panties as you tried to calm your breathing. 

“Didn’t I tell you I could make you feel good, why do you look so shocked?” Heeseung asks you, spreading your legs so your wet core is open to his eyes. 

“I just, wasn’t expecting it to be that good.” you reply maybe too honestly, but it doesn’t bother Heeseung. His focus is on the pink mess in front of him. 

It’s then that you realize how much you like being naked in front of him while he’s still fully clothed. It’s a feeling you can’t describe, but allow yourself to rest in. 

Without a warning, Heeseung licks a wide strip up your wet core. You cry out his name, surprised from the intrusion and sudden pleasure. He continues to lick up your folds, circling your clit everytime. He keeps his hands on your thighs to stop them from closing around his head. 

His lips suck all over your core, making sure to reach every part of you that makes you scream. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm that this one feels like it’s coming even faster. The sight inbetween your legs is almost nauseating from how much it’s turning you on. 

Heeseung seems pussy drunk on you, his eyes closed as he focuses on your taste, your pleasure and your moans of encouragement. You’ve never felt so much pleasure from someone’s tongue, and Heeseung seems to know exactly what he is doing. His tongue starts to dart into your hole, making you cry out his name. Your hand reaching for his hair to poull him closer into your core. 

“Fuck, daddy! Please!” you cry out, eyes shut from the pleasure threatening to abrupt. 

“You gonna cum on daddy’s tongue?” he mumbles into your core, his lips never completely leaving your body. 

“S-so close, please,” you continue to beg, not wanting him to stop. 

“Cum on daddy’s tongue, you can do it.” he tells you, before sucking your clit directly into his mouth. 

With his permission, you let the coil in your stomach finally snap. Your legs threaten to close, but Heeseung doesn’t let them. He continues to lick your pussy until you’ve come down from your high. You had to push his head away from how sensitive you were. 

When Heeseung lifts his head up, his lower half of his face is shiny and wet from your juices. He watches you try to catch your breath as you lay back completely on his bed. He likes being able to tell just how good you’re feeling. How good he’s making you feel. 

“You really taste so good, baby.” he speaks, moving up the bed to be over top of you. You feel your cheeks redden as you look up at him. He grabs your chin in between his fingers and thumb, locking your face still. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, sticking your tongue out, too. Heeseung purses his lips before he lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth, directly into yorus. You can’t help but moan at the action as you close your mouth and swallow it. There’s a hint of the taste of yourself mixed with his. “Good girl.” 

Heeseung and you makeout softly then. Taking in each other and building up the tension again as you moan and whine into each other’s mouths. 

“Think you can take one more?” Heeseung asks you when he pulls away. 

“Yes, daddy.” you reply obedietnly. Heeseung smiles and leans down to press a kiss onto your shoulder. 

Heeseung stands up off his bed briefly, and tugs down his bottoms, his hard dick popping out. It made your jaw drop at the sight. The tip red and dripping, and the veins protruding up and down the shaft. You wanted it so badly. You watch him slip on a condom from his bed side drawer. 

He kneels back onto his mattress and lifts your legs up so you’re knees are bent towards you. He holds your ankle with one hand as he guides his cock into your hole with the other. It slips in so easily since it’s soaked with your juices and his spit. Both of you groan out as he sinks in slowly. Heeseung’s eyes roll to the back of his head as your pussy engulfs him. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he groans out, eyebrows furrowed as he rests inside of you. 

“You feel so good, daddy.” you tell him honestly, feeling like his dick was in your stomach. Heeseung grunts at your words, bringing his other hand to grip your waist. 

Slowly, Heeseung starts to pump in and out of you. Both of you hissing at the feeling. It felt so good, so full, so wet. You genuinely don’t know the last time you’ve ever felt this good, so sensitive. 

“Faster,” you speak up, wanting even more. 

You’re responded with a slap on your clit, making you jolt forward with a cry. 

“Use your manners,” Heeseung’s words are sharp at you. 

“Go faster please, daddy,” you tell him, hoping he obeys yours words. 

Suddenly, Heeseung starts pounding into you at an extremely fast pace. He grips your legs tight as he pushes them towards your chest. You’re completely folded for him to be able to reach your g spot with every thrust. His bedroom is filled with wet squelches as he fucks into you so fast. You feel him deep in your stomach now, and you can’t help but release screams of pleasure, not caring if the people downstairs can hear you. 

“Like this, baby? You like it when daddy fucks you like this?” Heeseung grunts out through grated teeth as the pleasure is also affecting him. 

“D-addy! I’m gonna cum!” You cry out, your core so sensitive from the two earlier orgasms. 

“Do it. Do it, cum all over daddy’s cock.” he encourages you, wants you to do it. 

He speeds up his movements even more. Both of you feel your walls tighten around him more before you’re releasing all over his cock, his abdomen and his sheets. You feel droplets of your release land on your thighs, your core even more wet as Heeseung keeps thrusting through your high. 

“Fuck!” Heeseung lets out, watching your pussy squirt all over him. He can’t stop himself from hitting his climax. He releases his white cum into the condom, grunting out your name and praises as he does so. You can only repeat his name over and over again as you feel your body start to go numb from the pleasure. 

Both of you still with him deep inside of you, both of you catching your breaths. You’re both sweaty and tired, but feel so so good. 

With a grunt, Heeseung pulls out of you slowly, and throws the used condom in a trash can near his bed. You suddenly feel so naked next to him and wrap his sheets around your body. Heeseung sits on the bed next to you, with his boxers and shirt on. 

When he glances over his shoulder at you, a grin is on his face, “Fuck,” he nods at you. 

You can’t help but smile back, “That was…-” you start to say but he finishes. 

“The best sex I’ve ever had in my life.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” you tell him as you sit up, keeping the sheet wrapped around your bare chest. 

Both of you laugh as you take in what just happened. Neither of you had ever felt so fucking good in your entire lives. Both of you looked crazy with your messed up hair and sweat droplets down your faces. 

“I can’t believe you squirted,” Heeseung laughs out into his room, the music from downstairs being able to be heard again. 

“Dude, me neither,” you tell him honestly, “I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know I could do that,” 

Heeseung shrugs as he lays down on his bed, “I told you I could fuck you good, believe me now?” 

You roll your eyes at him, looking for where he had thrown your dress earlier, “Yeah, whatever.” You stand up, grabbing your dress and starting to unroll it so you can rewear it. Heeseung stays laying down, watching you dress. You avoid eye contact with him as you do so, the bedroom coming tense. 

You glance into his mirror, trying to brush down your as you prepare to go find Dayeon and Shana- shit, Dayeon and Shana. 

“Hey, uh Y/n,” Heeseung calls to you. 

“Yeah?” You turn to look at his figure. 

With your attention, Heeseung sits up, “Maybe, since it was so good, we should do that again, some time,” 

Your jaw wants to drop at his words but you keep it glued. Lee Heeseung never fucks the same girl twice, and if he does it’s because the girl is relentless or he was drunk. But an open invitation by he, himself, you couldn’t believe it. 

“Like? When?” you ask him confused. 

“Whenever. When either of us wants a fuck we can hit each other up,” 

“Like, friends with benefits?” you suggest and tilt your head. 

Heeseung thinks for a second, “Yeah, sure,” 

You scoff with a smile, “Sure,” you toss him your phone before going back to his mirror to fix your appearance and look less like you just had amazing sex. 

Heeseung types his phone number into your phone and then texts himself to get yours before he hands it back to you. “Here,” you take it from him and put your hand on the doorknob to leave, “I’m serious, though, whenever you want, whenever we’re both free,” 

You nod, “Whenever you want,” you echo back. 

“Deal?” Heeseung reaches his hand forward to shake. 

“Deal.” Your hands meet, and then suddenly you’re in a friends with benefits contract with Lee Heeseung. The frat president you had always tried to avoid. The frat boy that made you so frustrated and annoyed and humiliated. The frat boy that made you scream so loud from pleasure, the one that made you feel like you never had before. So, maybe this won’t all be disastrous. 

When you’re about to leave Heeseung calls your name again, stopping you, “Just so we’re clear, sex is the only thing I can give you– nothing else.” 

His words make a sly smile spread on your face, “Heeseung, don’t worry, I am not going to fall in love with you,” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Bye Y/n,” 

You leave his room and wonder what the hell you’re going to tell Dayeon and Shana.

Luckily, Dayeon and drunk Shana didn’t spend too much time waiting around for you, and they didn’t ask too many questions about where you had gone. Dayeon was too focused on helping Shana get home and into bed to wonder about where you had disappeared to. You helped Shana while thinking about how you were going to hide your friends-with-benefits deal with Heeseung. 

You couldn’t tell your friends about what you had done with Heeseung. You had gone on too many rants about frat houses and frat boys, and how you wished they weren’t a thing. The three of you had all had many interesting conversations about why Lee Heeseung was the wrost grat boy, after seeing so many freshman and other girls cry. Even some of your mutual friends and acquaintaces have cried to the three of you about Lee Heeseung. 

But you told yourself that you would not cry over the frat president. You would not be like any of the other girls who have shared their heartbroken stories with you and your friends. So, there was no reason to tell your friends. They wouldn’t need to worry about you or a broken heart if there was not going to be a broken heart. 

Just as long as your friends don’t find out, everything should be fine. You’re gonna get amazing sex, is it really that big of a deal that it’s with Lee Heeseung? 

Okay, maybe. 

But what your friends don’t know, won’t hurt them. 

The three of you were sat in your college’s cafeteria for lunch. It was busy and loud, but you had nothing else to do before your next class. You talked about what happened on the weekend and other campus gossip that you’ve heard. You tried to engage with your friends normally, but you struggle when you know Heeseung is sitting across the room from you. 

Heeseung and his friends, who are probably also in a frat, sit across the room. You could hear their laughter through all the others. You subtly glance over at Heeseung, not wanting your friends to see, your curiosity getting the best of you. Heeseung met your gaze with a nod and a playful smile, a silent acknowledgement of your unspoken deal. 

As Shana and Dayeon continued to talk, Dayeon suddenly brought your name up– distracting you from Heeseung. 

“Huh, what?” you ask her. 

Dayeon rolls her eyes, “Were you even listening?” 

“Uh, yeah, I was just thinking about my project that’s due.” 

Dayeon gives you a weird look before continuing, “Well I was saying, that Sung Hanbin asked about you the other day?”

Flashes of the last time you had seen him ring in your mind. At the party a few weeks ago, when he winked at you and then overhearing Heeseung wanting to get him kicked out. 

“Why would he ask about me?” 

“Yeah, and why are you hanging out with him recently?” Shana asks Dayeon with a curious expression. 

“Right, I did see you two at the party a few weeks ago,” You nod in agreement with Shana. 

Dayeon shrugs, “I don’t know, we have a few classes together.” 

“What did he say about me?” 

“Nothing much, just asked what you’re up to and all that.” 

You didn’t know much about Sung Hanbin, besides from that fact that he is also in a frat. You’ve heard a few stories about him at parties and how he loves to dance. He seemed nice through all the times you’ve heard about him, or passed him in the hall or at parties. You wondered why Heeseung didn’t like him so much. 

“Why would he care about that?” You ask your friends. 

Shana shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe he’s into you.” 

Dayeon agrees, “Probably,” 

“What? No,” you shake your head, “I’ve never even spoken to him before.” 

“So?” Dayeon asks, “He can still see you, he can think you’re pretty,” 

You snark your face up in disgust at her words. 

“What?” Shana laughs, “Hanbin’s not that bad looking, I think he’s cute.” 

“Yeah, he’s cute,” Dayeon agrees with your friend. 

You roll your eyes, “He’s whatever,”

“Oh come on, Y/n,” Shana whines, “You never think anyone is cute,” 

“Yeah, how do you expect to get laid if you don’t think anyone’s cute,” Dayeon chimes in. 

You scoff, “Easy, I don’t expect to get laid,” 

Your friends laugh as you feel your phone vibrate on the table. You flip it over and see a notification: 

Heeseung (best dick evr)  do u want to meet me at my car after last class? 

You hold back your gasp at the contact name to avoid attention from your friends. Why the hell would he make his contact that? You glance across the room at him, a playful smirk on his face when he meets your eyes. You sigh and read his message again. 

You type a brief ‘ok’ before you slide your phone away from you. You listen to what Dayeon and Shana are talking about, trying to focus on your friends. But your eyes can’t help but wander over to Heeseung who’s smiling at you behind his friend’s back as they leave the cafeteria. 

You feel excitement bubble in your stomach and panties as you think about what you and Heeseung are going to do after your class. You’ll just have to wait three hours to find out. 

Enduring the entire class while anticipating fucking Heeseung felt like an awful eternity. Every minute seemed to stretch and you found yourself not being able to sit still for the a mere second. 

When the class finally ended, you waved bye to your friends and practically bolted out the classroom. You headed straight for the parking lot, which was busy as people were trying to find their cars and leave for the day. The late afternoon sunlight blinded you as you looked around for him. 

Heeseung stood by his car, leaning casually against it, scrolling on his phone. His car, the one that everyone knew belonged to him, was a sleek, black camaro with clean lines and a polished finish. As you approached, Heeseung glanced up, his handsome face lightening up into a devious expression as he watched you walk towards him. You don’t miss the way his eyes trace your body. 

With an almost courteous gesture, he opens the back door, “After you.” 

You pop your hip out, “We’re having sex in your car?” 

“Uh, yeah, I have somewhere to go after,” 

You roll your eyes but crawl in. Inside is nice, it smells almost brand new it’s so clean and almost empty. As he crawls in next to you, you look outside the tinted windows, watching everyone getting in their cars, or stopping and talking with their friends. It’s the afterschool rush and now you’re going to have sex with Heeseung. 

“What? Worried they’ll see us?” Heeseung quirks an eyebrow at you, “The windows are tinted.” 

“What if they hear us?” You bite your lip anxiously at the thought. 

Heeseung laughs, “What? Don’t you want everyone to know how good your daddy fucks you?” His hand juts out and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing along your jaw. His words remind you of how soaked your panties are, and how you’ve had to endure waiting for three hours for this. You needed his cock so bad. 

“Fine, kiss me,” you speak. 

Heeseung grips your jaw tightly, “Ask daddy nicely,” 

You swallow, “Please kiss me, daddy.” 

And he does so. His lips meet yours with more familiarity. His rhythm, the texture, the taste, the feeling. It’s a feverish kiss. One that’s been on hold since he texted you earlier. Both of you knowing what was going to happen, and when it was going to happen, but not being able to do it right away. 

“Want you to suck daddy’s cock,” Heeseung pulls away to say, hsi eyes looking dead into your own. 

You nod at him, “Okay, daddy,” 

You guys shift so that your knees are on the car floor and inbetween Heeseung’s spread legs. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” 

You sigh and look up at him, “I want to Heeseung, don’t worry,” 

Heeseung softly smiles at you and leans down to press a kiss on your lips, “Then suck,” 

Your hands found his jean zipper quickly, pulling it down and both of you helping to push his jeans down to his knees. His cock was already semi hard, the bulge evident in his black boxers. Your hand starts to cup his dick while your lips press kisses into his bare thighs. 

“Can’t wait for your dick to be in my mouth, daddy,” you look up at him through your eyelashes, your hand cupping his dick tighter through the fabric. 

“Yeah? Been thinking about it? Thinking about daddy’s cock?” Heeseung asks, his head tilting to the side as he does. 

“Mhm,” you answer honestly, “ever since I left your room last time,” 

Heeseung smiles almost innocently at your answer, teasing that he’s also been thinking about you but won’t say it. 

You finally peel off his boxers so they’re at his knees with his jeans. His cock sprung up, his tip beckoning you to put your mouth on it. You brought the pink head to your mouth, taking small kitten licks at it. You feel Heeseung’s thighs tense at the feeling. 

Slowly, you bring the tip into your mouth, sucking around it. Heeseung’s hand flies down to tangle into your hair. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holding onto you as you give him pleasure. 

You take in every inch of his dick, your cheeks tightening around it as you suck. When you think it’s successfully wet enough you let up to breathe.

“Spit in my hand, daddy,” you hold out your hand to him. 

Heeseung groans at your words, “Fuck,” but does so. He leans forward and lets a drop of his spit land in your palm. You put your hand onto his dick, so it mixes with your saliva. 

You let your hand start to jerk his hard cock up and down as you put it back into your mouth. 

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he nods at you, his eyelids half closed from the pleasure. 

You could taste his precum in your mouth as you continued ot suck. Your tongue circles all the prominent veins as your hand continued it’s movements. Everytime your tongue would swipe across the slit of his tip, Heeseung would groan out your name, wanting you to continue. 

“You’re such a good girl for daddy,” Heeseung praises you, his hand in your hair tightening with the more pleasure he felt. 

You started to suck in your cheeks more everytime his tip would hit the back of your throat. You held it in your mouth for as long as you could before you needed air, just wanting Heeseung to feel so good because of you. Heeseung was starting to not be able to stay still. His neck thrown back onto the headrest as he looks down at you working on his cock. His breaths were becoming erratic as you continued. 

“You gonna cum so fast, daddy?” you tease him, your wide eyes meeting his only made him want to cum more. 

“Shut up, no,” he says breathlessly, his hand in your hair now pushing you down on his cock. If it wasn’t so far in your mouth you would’ve laughed at him. You could feel how hard his cock was in your mouth now. Feel how tense his body was as he took in all the pleasure you were giving him. “Okay, fuck, fuck,” Heeseung takes you completely off his dick, a string of saliva attaching your mouth to his tip. 

“You almost came, didn’t you?” you ask him, out of breath along with him. 

Heeseung nods, “Sorry, your mouth’s just like heaven, seriously.” 

You pout up at him, “Then why won’t you cum in my mouth, daddy?” 

“Oh my god,” Heeseung groans out, “you’re seriously gonna kill me.” You laugh at him as he lifts you up off the car floor, “Want you to ride daddy, that’s why.” 

You nod at him as you start to take off your bottoms, Heeseung’s hands aren’t shy to lift up your shirt so your tits are revealed. You whine as he starts to mouth at your tits before you can even kick off your panties properly. “Daddy,” 

“What?” he mumbles into your skin, “You look so fucking good today, so pretty. Can’t help myself.” 

“Really?” you can’t help but ask, never really thinking about the fact that Lee Heeseung finds you pretty, or attractive. You kind of just thought that he saw you as another pussy to fuck. 

Heeseung pops off your nipple with a quirked eyebrow, “What? Of course. You’re always pretty.” Heeseung watches as you throw your bare leg to the other side of his so you’re straddling him. Your bare cores brushing against each others, “Fuck, and sexy.” 

You hum in acknowledgement of his words before you lean down and press your lips to his. The kiss is quick and rought and sloppy as you both want to feel each other. You reach down to grab his cock but his hand reaches out to stop you, “Wait, condom.” 

“Oh, right,” you nod, and hold onto him as he reaches over into the glove department to grab one. “Really? You have hundreds of them in your car?” 

Heeseung chuckles as he opens the package, “Well yeah, you never know when you’re gonna need it, right?” 

You roll your eyes but let him slide the condom on and then lift you up so you’re positioned over top of his cock. Slowly, you start to sink down onto his hard member. Both of you make eyecontact as he fills you up, watching the pleasure take over each other’s faces. 

When he’s all the way in you can’t help the harsh breath that escapes your lips. 

“H-holy shit, daddy, you’re so deep.” 

Heeseung nods, “Yeah, can you feel me right in your tummy, baby?” he asks you, his hand coming between your bodies to press down on your lower abdomen. You almost scream when you feel it press against his dick inside of you, right up against your g spot. 

“Yes daddy!” you nod, “P-lease move, need it so bad, please.” 

Heeseung starts to thrust up in you at a quick pace, giving you no more time to adjust to his size. With every thrust you swear you can feel him deeper and deeper in your stomach. Your whole body is bouncing up and down on his cock. 

From this perspective you can see out the entire back window of the car. There’s people still walking to their cars, stopping and talking. You close your eyes as you focus on the pleasure Heeseung is giving you. His face is smashed into your breast, biting and sucking them as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. You know your knees are going to be sore after this, but for now it just feels so good. 

When you open your eyes again, there’s two girls standing at the back of their car that’s directly beside Heeseung’s. They’re talking and laughing with each other, having no idea what was happening in the car just a meter away. The thought that they could hear you makes more excitement bubble in your stomach and you know you’re gonna have to be quicker if you don’t want them to catch on. 

Heeseung feels you tighten around his cock suddenly, a groan escaping his lips when he does. He glances up and sees where your eyes keep glancing to. The two oblivious girls stand only a door away from his car, and he knows that that is what is turning you on more. 

“Do you want them to know how good your daddy is making you feel, huh?” Heeseung slaps your ass with his hand. You have to bite down on your lip to mask your squeal that almost escaped your mouth. 

“Daddy,” you whine out to him, feeling your cheeks heat up to a rosy colour. You felt embarrassed but so turned on that you couldn’t stop riding Heeseung’s cock. 

“Want them to hear how you cry out for daddy?” Heeseung smirks into your skin, his thrusts meeting your bounces harshly, his tip hitting your g spot over and over. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, your grip tightening on his shoulders as Heeseung pounds into you. When you glance over at the girls they are staring right at your car, their eyes widened as they must notice the car moving now. You cover your mouth with your shaky hand, trying to silence yourself through Heeseung’s pleasure. 

You feel Heeseung’s hand slip between your bodies to start rubbing your clit at a fast pace, making you cry out his name more, “Want you to cum on dadddy’s cock, baby. Want you to soak it.” 

You notice the girls start moving to get inside their, obviously understanding what was happening in Heeseung’s car, now. You nod your head rapidly at Heeseung’s words. You feel your orgasm start to build more and more with Heeseung rubbing your clit. 

Suddenly, it hits you so quickly. Your orgasm crashes down on you, leaving your whole body numb as it rides the pleasure it’s been given. You’re arching your chest more into Heeseung’s face as you throw your head back, crying out ‘daddy’ as you see stars. 

“Good girl, fuck, good girl.” Heeseung praises you. He feels your wet pussy clamping around his dick so tightly that he can’t hold on to his own orgasm much longer. 

Your jaw falls slack when you feel Heeseung’s dick twitch inside of you before he releases his cum into the condom. Heeseung slopily kisses your neck as he grunts your own name into your skin. His hips don’t stop thrusting into you until you’re whining from sensitivity. Then, both of you are breathing heavy onto each other, catching your breaths. 

When you glance over at the car parked beside you, you notice it’s gone, along with majority of all the other cars and people that were in the parking lot when you first entered Heeseung’s car. You wonder if any of them even noticed you getting into his car. 

You shift your shirt back down over your chest and stomach. You move to slide Heeseung out of you, so you sit beside him in the back seat and start reaching for your bottoms. Heeseung starts to copy you, shifting to pull his boxers and jeans back up to his hips. It’s almost awkward as you dress. 

“Um, I guess, I’ll go now, then.” You say to him, glancing over at his figure as he readjusts himself. 

Heeseung shrugs, “Alright, I’ll see you around.” 

You nod and open the backdoor, standing up and out– and then you feel drops of wetness hit your head. You glance up at the once clear, blue sky and see that it’s now grey and covered with heavy clouds that exude the drops. You sigh as you realize you’re going to have to bus home in this. 

“Hey, uh, I’ll drive you home,” Heeseung speaks from the back. 

“Really?” you ask him, “You sure?” 

“Yeah, no problem– get in the front.” 

Both of you move so that you’re now in the front of his black camaro. Heeseung turns on the heat as you settle in and he pulls out of the school parking lot. It’s silent in the car, besides briefly giving Heeseung directions to your apartment. You find yourself staring at your hands in your lap. 

“Did you really not think I’d want to drive you home in the rain?” Heeseung questions suddenly. 

You look over at him, his one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps his head looking forward, you look out your window when you answer, “Yeah, I guess.” 

“What? Why do you always think of me as some asshole?” 

You hear his defensive but curious tone, “I don’t know, just stuff I’ve heard about you.” You hear him scoff so you look at him. You’re stopped at a red light and he’s leaning how elbow on the window with his hand brushing through his bangs. “What?” 

Heeseung glances at you, “Nothing, it’s just, I’ve heard things about you but I don’t treat you any differently.” 

You’re taken aback at his words. You didn’t even think Lee Heeseung had properly heard about you before he gave you his shirt. “What have you heard about me?” 

The light turns green as Heeseung moves the car in motion again and he shrugs, “Just, that you’re a prude and no one understands why Shana and Dayeon are friends.” 

Your face wants to contort into a hurt expression, but you don’t let it. Instead you turn to look out your window. You can not believe people say that about you. That before the night Heeseung gave you his shirt that that was what he had known about you. That that was why he confirmed if you were friends with Shana and Dayeon that night. You wondered just how many people thought those things about you. You wondered if Shana and Dayeon thought those things about you, they were always nagging at you to get laid. 

Heeseung feels guilty from your silence. He thinks maybe he shouldn’t have told you what he had heard before. But you were also hurting him. It was true that he liked to have sex, but did that really make him an asshole? Did that make him deserve to be treated lower than you? You didn’t even want to be seen with him at his own house party. 

Heeseung sighs, “Sorry,” 

You roll your eyes in your window reflection, “It’s fine.” 

The car comes to another red light and Heeseung lets his back hit the car seat, “Look, Y/n,” you turn to look when your name is mentionned, “I don’t care who or why you’re friends with people– and I definitely don’t think you’re a prude,” you tilt your head at him, “It’s just, how about we restart? You forget everything you’ve heard about me, and I’ll forget everything I’ve heard about you.” 

You let his offer ring in your head for a moment, realizing that maybe you had been a little too much on him with the whole asshole-fuckboy-frat stereotype. Maybe you should’ve been a little nicer to him. With that, you sigh. 

“Fine, okay– deal.” 

Heeseung smiles at your agreement, “Deal.” 

The car starts moving again, and this time the silence between you two is lighter. There’s no more unknown things about one another. No more apprehensiveness towards each other. Just the two of you, who like to have sex together, in the car. 

Suddenly, your stomach growls, taking up the silence. Both you and Heeseung glance at each other from the noise. 

“What? You hungry?” Heeseung asks, a playful smile on his face. With your nod his smile only grows, “Want McDonalds?” 

“Uh, yes!” you nod eagerly, “Please! God, I’m actually starving.” 

“What? My cock didn’t fill you up enough?” 

“Heeseung!” you shove his shoulder playfully, “Stop!” 

Heeseung only laughs louder as he turns into McDonalds, ready to fill you up again– but with food this time. And it left you wondering if this friends with benefits deal would actually turn out to be more fun than you thought. 

Lee Heeseung dropped you off at your apartment with his black camaro and McDonald’s– which he bought for you. He didn’t drive off until he made sure you got in your apartment okay with a final wave from inside by you. 

From then on, things between you and Heeseung had become relatively normal. Instead of having underlying apprehensions with one another– you were honest and open. Something that was probably important to be considering how many times you two have had sex. 

Everytime you guys hooked up, you became somewhat closer and closer. It was always unspoken between you two about how you had started to form some sort of secret friendship. But, it was probably unavoidable from how often you guys fucked. Every weekend without fail you would meet up. Whether it was at his frat house, him sneaking into your apartment after your roommates had gone to bed, or you showing up in his bedroom after leaving another party, telling your friends that you were tired and wanted to go home. In between classes, studying– you had become quite familiar with the back of Heeseung’s car. 

But, little by little, you two would talk and joke after you were done having sex. Whether it was about some party or gossip, or just some stupid thing that happened in one of your classes. McDonald’s runs were becoming an after sex must. You had formed a friendship with Lee Heeseung, the notorious frat president that you always wanted to avoid. 

Dayeon and Shana hadn’t picked up on anything related to you and Heeseung and your fwb deal. In a way you were relieved that they didn’t know, so you could keep something away from their prying eyes and questions. 

Though, a few days after the first time you had sex with Heeseung in his car, the three of you were sitting in the library at lunch to study. Some girls a few tables over were having their own conversation that the three of you couldn’t help but overhear. 

“Did you hear that Heeseung was fucking some girl in his car the other day?” the one girl asked her group. 

You suddenly gulped as she speaks the words. Dayeon and Shana only glancing at eachother with annoyed expressions about having to hear about another Lee Heeseung hook up. 

“What, really?” the second girl asked her friend. 

“Uh, yeah. Right as everyone was trying to leave to go home.” 

“What? Who has car sex during after school rush?” 

You could feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, you could only hope to God that your friends in front of you didn’t notice. 

“Mina, Lee Heeseung will have sex anywhere, anytime with anyone, not that surprising.” Another girl says with a roll of her eyes. Great, you really did sound like just another Lee Heeseung whore. 

“Yeah, but apparently the girl was like screaming, like it felt that good.”

You felt sick suddenly, knowing that everyone has been talking about you moaning and screaming over Lee Heeseung’s stupid frat dick. 

“God, I wish Lee Heeseung could fuck me like that, that girl is so lucky.” 

“I wish anyone would fuck me like that, all the sex I’ve had has been so boring.” 

You stand up abruptly, Shana and Dayeon looked at you confused. 

“What’re you doing Y/n?” Dayeon asked. 

You started to pile your things into your backpack, just needing to get out of that library. 

“Y/n, are you okay?” Shana asksed, concerned at your actions.

“I just, I need to go, I- forgot I had to meet up with people to work on a project.” 

“Oh, okay,” Shana pouts at you as you push in your chair. You left the library without a goodbye, praying that your friends would not find out about you and Heeseung. 

Now, you went from fucking Heeseung at least three times a week- to not having fucked him in almost three weeks. Every time he has texted you, something had come up that he had to cancel. The first few times you had texted to meet up, he’d say he was busy and that he was sorry. But now, your last few texts have gone unreplied. You haven’t even see him at school, and if you did, it was only for a brief second as you walked past each other in the hall. 

Something was up with him, but you knew there would be no point in asking him. And honestly, you were annoyed. He could have at least answered your texts, or given you some sort of explanation. Because honestly, you had gotten used to having sex mulitple times a week. He had raised your sex drive so much, constantly thinking about when and where you would fuck next. And now– nothing. He’s left you high and fucking dry. 

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing from a call from Dayeon. You don’t hesitate to pick up as you roll over onto your back onto your bed. 

“Hello?” you speak into the line. You’re instantly greeted with loud, house party music. 

“Y/n! You have to come to this party tonight I told you! It’s so fun, dude! Please!” Dayeon begs into the phone. You sigh at your drunk friend’s offer. She had told you about it earlier but you had declined. You didn’t feel like partying anymore, not with Lee Heeseung ignoring you, and not with people thinking you’re some sort of prude that doesn’t deserve to be friends with Shana and Dayeon. 

“I don’t think so, D. I’m not feeling it tonight, I will next time.” you tell her no again. 

“Boo!” Dayeon answers back. 

Suddenly Shana’s voice can be heard, “Y/n please! Even though it’s Enha Tau’s party it’s still fun! Come see us, please!” You can hear your pretty friends pout in her words. 

Realizing that it’s Enha Tau’s party leaves a knot in your stomach. 

“C’mon Y/n! I haven’t even seen any of the annoying frat boys!” Dayeon tries to persuade you. 

Shana’s voice is further and muffled, “Didn’t we see Heeseung earlier?” 

Hearing his name makes the knot even tighter. 

“Guys, I’m not coming tonight I’m sorry. I’ll see you guys when you come home later. Have fun!” you feign cheerfulness to your friends, and sigh when you’re met with both of them booing at you before you hang up. 

You open your texts with Heeseung. The message you had sent him four hours ago hasn’t even been read this time. Yet, he was at a party where he knows your friends are. You felt hurt bubble up inside you and you don’t understand why. You know you and Heeseung aren’t dating, and that he likes to fuck around with girls. But not even getting a message from him bothers you. 

You just figure he’s moved on to the next girl. 

Abruptly, there’s a knock on your front door. You sigh but get up to open it. 

You’re surprised to see Sung Hanbin standing there, a big smile on his face once he sees you. 

“Oh, uh, hi Hanbin.” 

“Hi, Y/n,” he greets you, “Is Dayeon home?” 

You shake your head, “No, she’s at a party at Enha Tau’s. Why?” 

Hanbin’s expression dropped a bit, “Oh, it’s just she borrowed my textbook, but I need it back now to study for a test I have on Monday.” 

“Oh, okay. Come in and I’ll get it for you.” You open the door wider for him to come in. He thanks you and tells you what textbook it is. You leave and thankfully find it sitting right ontop of Dayeon’s desk, snatching it up to give back to Hanbin. “Here you go.” 

“Great, thanks Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you– he really does have a nice smile you think. You couldn’t help but notice how cute he actually was up close. Your conversation with Shana and Dayeon from weeks ago being remembered in your head as you take in his features. HIs polite emeanor and earnestness really add to this handsome charm he has. “I’ll see you at school.” 

“You know,” you begin, stopping Hanbin from opening the front door, “I have nothing else to do tonight, and it is Friday, so, would you want to stay and watch a movie or something? Dayeon and Shana won’t be back for a while, so…” 

Hanbin’s eyes lit up with a surprised but pleasant expression, “Uh sure, that’d be fun.” 

“Really? Great! Let’s go to my room,” you nod behind you. Hanbin leaves his textbook on the table and follows you with his bright smile. 

Both of you settled down onto your bed, easily picking a movie that both of you would enjoy. You sit side by side, your legs stretched out in front of you both, your shoulders almost touching. In the dim light of your room, you couldn’t help but let your thoughts race about Sung Hanbin, he was right beside you. 

“So,” you start, taking his focus off of the movie, “Dayeon told me you asked her about me.” 

Hanbin kept the warm smile on his lips when he answered, “Well, I think you’re cute.” 

“What?” you replied in a shocked tone. 

Hanbin chuckled at you, “I always see you around, and I’ve thought you were pretty for a while now” 

You feel your heart skip for a second out of shock, and for a moment your mind flashed back to when Heeseung had called you pretty in his car. But you quickly push that memory aside to focus on the present reality. Heeseung was with someone else, and Sung Hanbin was in your bed calling you pretty. 

“Really?” you asked with curiosity. 

Hanbin nodded and leaned in a little closer to you, “Yeah, of course,”. 

In that moment, you decide to follow your instinct. Your worries about Heeseung and everything else surrounding him were pushed to the back of your mind as you lean in and press your lips to Hanbin’s. He’s quick to kiss you back, melting into each other as you sync up your movements. 

“Can I make you feel good, Y/n?” Hanbin pulls away and whispers. With your nod of consent he continues to kiss you. He gently pushes you down onto your back on your bed so he’s ontop of you. He continues press his tongue against your lip, asking for entrance. When you allow him, your tongues mesh together, tasting each other. 

“Want you Hanbin,” you moan against his lips, thrusting your hips up against his. He smiles gently at you like always, pressing a kiss to the top of your nose before he lets his hands start to unbutton your jeans. He so easily slips his fingers to inbetween your panties. You can tell you aren’t as wet as you usually are with Heeseung, but you don’t voice that thought. 

Instead, Hanbin brings his fingers to your lips, “Taste yourself, Y/n,” you suck his fingers into your mouth, making sure to coat them with all the saliva you could manage. When Hanbin is satisfied he slips his fingers back into your panties, mixing your spit with your juices. 

You mewl out to him when he dances across your clit, teasing you. When he probs two of his fingers inside of your hole you can instantly tell it would be nothing like when Heeseung fingers you. Hanbin has to take a few thrusts to find your g spot. Brushing against it lightly as he curls his fingers upwards. 

You decided to lift your shirt up over your head as he fingered you, discarding it somewhere on your bedroom floor. Hanbin’s eyes widened at your action, his eyes staring at your bare chest. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Hanbin compliments you before he lets his mouth start to suck on your chest. You revel in his compliment as he starts to swivel his tongue around your nipple. You could feel his biting, and then his warm tongue soothing over the skin. 

“Please, Hanbin, want you cock,” you whine out to him, just wanting to feel him more. 

“Okay, baby,” he presses a final kiss to your chest before he slips his hand out of your panties. Both of you work to remove your pants. His hard cock is protruding and the tip is red. “Do you have a condom?” 

You nod as you reach over to your bedside table, grabbing one that he easily slips on. You spread your legs to allow him to move inbetween them. With no more hesitation, Hanbin teased you by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, soaking the condom with your juices and spit. You mewl when his tip circles your clit. 

“Ready?” Hanbin asks you, his eyes staying on yours as you nod. 

Hanbin starts to slowly sink into your pussy, inch by inch. The strech was different, and it felt good. Everything about hooking up with Hanbin was already so different from what you were used to. You told yourself that it would be good to experience more without Heeseung, even though he seemed to constantly be on your mind during this moment. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Hanbin breathes out once his dick is all the way inside of you. He thrusts his cock back out again slowly, wanting to feel every inch of your wall.

“You feel good, too.” you tell him, your hand gripping onto his upper arms as he finds his pace to fuck into you. He goes slow, but hard– so different from how Heeseung fucks you. He rolls his hips inside of you, your body jutting upwards with every hard thrust of his. 

You were physically so close to him, but yet you felt so far. You lay under him, watching him as he grunts and furrows his eyebrows as he fucks into you. You know you should be focusing on him, on the way he’s trying to make you feel– because it’s Sung Hanbin, and anyone would be lucky to be this close to Sung Hanbin. 

Hanbin leans down and kisses your lips before leaving his head into the crook of your neck. You can hear and feel each other’s breaths as he fucks you. He presses kisses into your neck while he grunts out your name. You know that if you weren’t so caught up with Heeseung in this very moment, you would be at least somewhat close to an orgasm. Because there was nothing wrong with Hanbin. No, everything he has done has been right and polite. But you’re just so caught up in the waves of Lee Heeseung. 

“Baby, I’m almost there,” Hanbin grunts out to you, his grip on your hips tightening. With his words you reach down and start rubbing your clit in fast circles, already feeling even more pleasure with Hanbin deep inside of you. He groans out when he feels your walls tighten around him, squeezing him and prompting him to go closer to his orgasm. 

“Want you to cum, Hanbin, please,” you whine out to him, his thrusts getting harder and sloppier as your fingers go faster and faster on your clit. 

“Fuck, okay baby, okay,” his voice is breathless when he responds. 

Hanbin thrusts a few more times before you feel him release into the condom. The feeling of his hard cock twitching inside of you finally pushes you over the edge as well. Both of you moaning the others name as you cum. Your walls are clasping around Hanbin’s dick, shoved still inside of you as he releases into the condom. 

Hanbin’s grip on you didn’t loosen as he leant down and kissed you. It was passionate and gentle– different from how you and Heeseung have ever kissed. Your bodies were sweaty where they met, but Hanbin didn’t seem to mind as he stayed inside of you. You madeout as you both calmed down from your orgasms. 

Hanbin started to gently pull out of you, sliding his condom off and throwing it in the garbage bin. 

“Stay there,” he tells you before he’s sliding his pants back on and leaving your room. He comes back a minute later with a wet wash cloth he must have found in your bathroom. Before you can ask, he’s asking you to spread legs so he can help clean you up. 

You don’t say anything but do as he says, you can’t take your eyes off of him as he oh, so gently wipes up all the spit and fluids. When he’s done, he gently smiles at you and hands you your sweatpants and throws the wash cloth into your laundry bin. 

Hanbin makes sure you’re okay and you walk him to your front door. 

“I had fun, Y/n,” Hanbin smiles warmly at you. 

His smile is contagious and you can’t help but smile back at him, “Yeah, me too.” 

“I hope to see you again, then.” Hanbin suggests, biting his lip. 

“You will,” 

Hanbin smiles once more at you before he leans down and presses a kiss onto your forehead. You say your final goodbyes and close the door after him. It’s only then that you feel like you can breathe properly again. Nothing felt like it went right tonight, but it did. 

Hanbin was everything you should want in a man. He is kind, and gentle and caring. He looked after you and made sure you were okay. Hanbin did absolutely nothing wrong. Yet, you feel like something is. And you know exactly what it is. 

Suddenly, you can’t help but let a sob out. Your hand covering your mouth to silence yourself even though Dayeon and Shana aren’t home. Tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t even truly understand why. You felt so torn and disconnected with everything. 

You lay in your bed with racing thoughts, ready to sleep the rest of this night away. You wiped your tears away as you couldn’t hellp but wish that you spend tonight with Heeseung instead. The guilt overtook you as you realized what the thought must truly mean for yourself. You felt lost with who yourself and wondered what would have happened if you made another choice tonight. Would you still be filled with regret and an inexplicable longing that left you feeling so sunken?

On Monday, you found it hard to concentrate in your classes. Dayeon and Shana could tell something was bothering you all weekend, but you refused to tell them anything. You were trying to get over the weird feelings you were having. Because deep down you knew that there was never going to be any romantic feelings between you and Heeseung. You had just gotten too use to sex with him that hooking up with Hanbin had left you feeling confused. But still, something bothered you in the back of your mind. 

You knew you were still conflicted about everything. But chose to ignore one side of the inner argument. YO had to, for the better. Because there was no way that you would become another girl that got hurt by Lee Heeseung. So, you needed to suck up your confused emotions and come back to reality. Lee Heeseung was a notorious frat fuck boy– the type of boy that you always wanted to avoid. But now, it was too late for that, and you had to deal with that. 

Dayeon had given Hanbin your phone number and he had texted you this weekend, but you hadn’t had the guts to text him back. You felt guilty because you knew how sweet Hanbin was, but you didn’t want to continue to talk to him when you were already this internally confused. 

Dayeon and Shana encouraged you to text Hanbin back. They knew that Hanbin would be good for you, they knew he would treat you right. And you did too. It’s just, is that what you really wanted, or what you should want? 

Just as you started contemplating whether or not to continue whatever arrangement you had with Heeseung, your phone vibrated in your pocket. Thankful for another distraction from your current class, you pull out your phone. 

Heeseung (best dick evr)  do u wanna come over after ur class? 

You felt yourself gulp as you read his text. This was the first text back from him in a week. You hesitated as you re-read his text over and over, ignoring your professors words as they went over the lecture slides. There was uncertainty gnawing you, but eventually, you found yourself texting a reply. 

you  sure

When you arrive at the Enha Tau house, you were almost scared from how quiet and unusual it was. It was a weekday, and there was no sign of the usual raucous party atmosphere that usually took over the entire street. The house was eerily silent as you knocked on the door. You figured all the other frat boys were out, either at their own classes or college clubs. 

When Heeseung opened the door, you saw him properly for the first time in weeks. You felt your heart clench at the thought. He looked undeniably good, his appearance exuding an alluring charm like usual. He was more reserved than usual thought. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as he stepped aside to let you in. You couldn’t hellp but admire his facial features as you walked past him. The room seemed charged with unspoken tension and you couldn’t help but wonder how the dynamics between you have evolved during your time apart. 

Stepping into Heeseung’s room, you notice how it looked cleaner than all the other times you’d been there. The clothes were folded and put away, and all the chaos that surrounded his desk and closet had been somewhat tamed. 

Heeseung, now sitting on his bed as you walked around and looked at the pictures of his friends and family you could actually see now that his room was cleaner. You tried to ignore the sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. You could both sense that something had changed during their time apart, and you were treading cautiously around it. It was a strange mix of familiarity and uncertainty. 

“So,” You start when you lean against his desk, “how’ve you been?” 

Heeseung sighs, “Good. I thought I would’ve seen you at the party on Friday.” 

You shrug, “Nah,”

“Why not? Doesn’t seem like you to want to miss a party, especially if your friends are there.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of Shana and Dayeon, “Just didn’t feel it.” 

Heeseung sighs and brushes his bangs back out of his face. He completely knows that the reason why it’s awkward is because of him. “Sorry I didn’t text you back, I had some shit to deal with.” 

It was true. He did have some shit to deal with. Some family financial things that he must always take care of because his parents can’t. It’s the same shit that he never tells anyone and he mentally groans when he knows you’re about to ask him. 

You perk up at the beginning of his apology, “What type of shit?” 

“Stupid shit.” Heeseung is quick to reply. He can obviously tell you don’t like his answer by the way you sigh and move to sit beside him on his bed, both of your feet are on the floor as you sit side by side. 

“What type of stupid shit?” 

“Don’t worry about it shit. It’s done.” 

You look away from him when he responds, not saying anything else because you know that that’s all he’s going to give you. Heeseung hates the way your expression looks right now. Hates that he always sees that face on everyone he’s ever closed to. Hates that it’s on your face right now because of him. 

“Y/n, look,” Heeseung puts his hand on your thigh, making you look up at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t text you. I saw your texts and I know I should’ve, but I just couldn’t. I was busy and stressed with this shit that came up and I didn’t even know what to do. So I’m sorry.” You nod at his words, a small pout still on your lips that he wishes he could kiss away, “And I’m not good with, opening up, or whatever. So, I’m fine now, don’t worry about it.” 

You sigh again but, can tell that he’s being genuine. His eyebrows are furrowed as he explains to you why he hasn’t answered the best he could. And finally, “It’s okay, Hee. I get it.” 

Heeseung smiles at your answer, taking his hand off your thigh and settling back onto his bed against his headboard, “Good, because I missed you.” 

You smirk playfully at him, “Me or my pussy?” 

“Hm,” Heeseung pretends to think, “Both.” You roll your eyes at his answer, “C’mere.” 

You smile at him as you crawl over his bed so you’re perched ontop of him. Your knees on either side of his thighs as you straddle him. Both of your arms find each other almost instinctively at this point. His arms wrap around your waist and yours wrap around his shoulders, locking the other one in. 

“Did Y/n miss her daddy?” Heeseung looks up at you. You nod, almost shyly when you hear the name. Heeseung smiles before he leans down to press kisses along your neck, finding all the sweet spots he knows so well. You already whimper at his touch, craving it for so long. You feel him smirk into your skin but you could care less if he finds you being needy so amusing. 

You start grinding his hips down onto his, needing to relieve some pressure already. His hands help guide you over his crotch as you do so. 

“Fuck, baby– Daddy missed your body so much.” Heeseung groans out as he looks down to where your so needily dry humping him. 

“Missed yours too, daddy.” you whine out to him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as you focused on grinding your hips downwards. You feel Heeseung kissing all over your neck. His hands moving under your shirt to lift it up. His hands cup your breasts so nicely, like they perfectly in his hands. 

“What the fuck?” 

You open your eyes and look at Heeseung. His face contorted into a look of confusion. You look down to your chest where he is staring– catching sight and instantly remembering of the hickey’s Hanbin had left on your chest and tits. Your eyes widen when you glance at the purple and blue marks, some of them yellowing from healing. 

“What is that?” Heeseung asks you, his facial expression not changing. 

“Uh, hickeys.” 

“From who?” 

You feel your heart beat pick up in your chest, “Hanbin.” Your voice comes out weak. 

“Sung Hanbin?” 

You can’t find yourself to confirm, but Heeseung takes your lack of response as the answer. You watch as his face changes from confusion to disgust. He moves your right leg off of him so he can swing his legs over his bed. His back is towards you when he asks, “When?” 

“Friday night.” 

You watch as Heeseung turns his head away in disbelief and mumbles, “Oh my god.” as he stands up. 

“Hee,” you start but stop when he leans down abruptly over his desk, his head hanging. “What?” He ignores you, keeping his back and face away from you as he shakes his head. You can tell he’s pissed at you just from his body language. “What?” 

Heeseung turns, an annoyed, angry expression on his face, “Just, Sung Hanbin. Really?” his voice is mean and condescending when it comes out. 

You scoff and move so you’re sitting up straight on his bed instead of kneeling, “What’s wrong with that? Why can’t I hook up with other people?” 

Heeseung sighs, his fingers squeezing the spot between his eyebrows. His voice is lower now, “You can. It’s just, you had to fuck him? Of all people really, him?” 

“Why do you care who I hook up with?” your voice raising as you speak. You can’t help but think how uncanny it is. Lee Heeseung of all people, judging you for hooking up with someone. 

Heeseung lets out a frustrated grunt as he turns back around to not see you. He doesn’t answer, but you can see that he’s trying to calm himself down. You had no idea he’d get this mad about it. 

When it’s silent in his bedroom for a few moments you speak again, “Heeseung,” your voice is calmer and softer when you ask, “Are you mad because I hooked up with Hanbin, or that I hooked up with someone else at all?” 

You hear Heeseung breathe a heavy breath before he answers, “Both.” 

You breathe in a heavy inhale, taking in his answer. “Heeseung, if you’ve been hooking up with everyone else, then why can’t I?” 

Heeseung turns at your words, his face back to confused, “Well, I haven’t been hooking up with anyone else,” you can tell you look taken aback at his answer, “Only you.” 

Heeseung looks away from you but his body stays facing you, you can tell he’s struggling to look at you. The room goes silent again, but it’s full of anger. 

“What do you want me to do then? Leave?” you stand up before he can answer, heading straight to his bedroom door. 

“No,” a hand grabbing your forearm stops you, you turn to look at him, his arm stretched out to grab you, “Stay.” 

You turn to face him, his hand stays on your forearm, holding you like you’d run away if he let go. Like he’s scared that that would happen. You tilt your head to the side when he doesn’t say anything. The room is thick as you two stare at each other, each trying to figure out what to say or do. 

Heeseung finally lets your forearm go and he leans back on his desk, “Did- did you use a condom when you fucked Hanbin?” 

You close your eyes at his vulgar words but reply, “Yes.” 

Heeseung sighs once more, “Then let’s update our deal,” he steps forward again so he’s an inch away from you, “I can only fuck you, and you can only fuck me.” 

He’s serious with his words, and sticks out his hand for you to shake, “Deal?” 

You think for a second, staring at his outward hand in front of you, but ultimately nod, “Deal.” Your hands meet in a shake, once again securing some weird arrangement with the frat boy you once wanted to avoid. 

With the hand he’s holding onto, he suddenly pulls you forward, your face landing in his chest, “Now will you let me fuck you?” You nod up at him, wanting to feel him so bad. 

His hand meets your lower cheek, a light warning, “Use your words. Beg,” 

“Yes, daddy. Please fuck me, daddy. I’ve wanted it for so long,” you instantly whine out to him, the truth spilling out in your words. 

Heeseung smirks down at you, before he’s pushing you over onto his bed on your back. He doesn’t hesitate to climb on top of you, his hand going straight for your neck and squeezing. Your mouth drops open as he chokes you, “Gonna let daddy ruin your pussy?” 

“Please,” you speak out to him. He leans down and harshly presses his lips onto yours. You kiss him back, his hand still enclosed on your neck as you makeout with him. Taking in his taste and lips that you had missed feeling so much. 

When he pulls away completely he commands, “Take your clothes off,” 

You hurriedly do as he says, standing up and pulling off your clothes, dropping them onto his floor. He leans back on his bed and watches you, taking in your body that he knows so well. Your body that he loves. You stand in front of him naked, letting him soak in your body.

When he meets your eyes he says “On your back, spread your legs.” 

You lay on your back, letting him kneel in between your legs. His eyes circle around the bruises Hanbin had left. You can see the anger form in his eyes as he looks around the purple marks. 

“Did Hanbin fuck you good? Did he fuck you as good as I do?” 

“No, daddy. No,” you shake your head instantly. 

Heeseung reaches forward and traces the bruises on your chest, “You sure? Looks like he had fun.” 

“Yes, daddy. I thought about you the entire time,” you speak honestly, knowing you’ll probably regret it tomorrow. 

Heeseung smirks at your answer, “Really? Don’t think I need to show you who’s pussy this belongs to?” 

You gulp at his words, “Show me, daddy.” 

Heeseung quirks his eyebrow up before he slips his middle finger right into your pussy. You gasp out at the intrusion, his finger going right at your g spot. His thumb starts slow circles on your clit at the same time. “Fuck, did Hanbin get you this wet?” 

You moan out as he starts to push his middle finger in and out of you. “God, why do you hate Hanbin so much.” 

Heeseung grunts at your question and starts pounding two of his fingers inside of you, stretching you open so easily from your walls being so wet. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hand flying to grip onto his sheets from how hard and fast he had his fingers fucking into you. 

“He fucked my girlfriend,” Heeseung states. 

“What?” you lift your head, trying to refocus on his words despite your pussy clamping helplessly around his fingers. 

“He fucked my girlfriend and then dated her right after.” 

You tried to take in his words, thinking about Hanbin taking Heeseung’s apparent girlfriend. But the only girl you knew that dated Hanbin was, “Choi Yerim!” Heeseung rolls his eyes at her name. “You dated Yerim?” your question comes out in a high pitch whine as Heeseung’s pace didn’t let up. 

“For like a week before she cheated on me with Hanbin,” Heeseung explains like his fingers were curling up inside of you, massaging your g spot before pulling out and forcing his fingers back in again. 

“Oh shit,” you moan out, “I-I’m sorry.” 

Heeseung scoffs, “Don’t worry about it and cum.” 

You nod against his pillow, grunts and moans escaping your lips as his thumb keeps rubbing circles on your clit, “Fuck! Fuck!” 

“That’s it, baby, cum on daddy’s fingers.” 

His words are the final push that send you over the edge of your first orgasm. You squeal and cry out his name as his fingers fuck you through it. You’ve needed this so bad. Needed Heeseung, needed his fingers, his words. 

He takes his fingers out of you, his tongue starts to lap around them, sucking up your juices. 

“Fuck, I missed your taste.” Heeseung leans over you, “Did you let Hanbin taste you, too, whore?” 

“No, daddy,” you shake your head. 

“No?” Heeseung mocks you, “You’re not the little whore I think you are?” You bite your lip and repeat yourself, desparate. “Who’s whore are you?” 

“Yours, daddy. Just yours.” 

Satisfied with your answer, Heeseung leans down so his mouth is level with your sopping pussy. He doesn’t wait a second before he’s delving his mouth onto your core. His lips sucking every part of you. A gasp leaves your mouth when he starts to get just the right rhythm. 

Heeseung is ravenous in your pussy. He’s always liked eating out girls, especially you. He loves the way you jut your hips forward and grind your pussy down onto his mouth, always needing more. You could just never get enough of him and it drove him crazy. 

Tonight, Heeseung is even crazier as he eats you. His whole head and neck moving to lick every single part of you. Alternating from fucking your hole with his tongue, to circling your clit. He loves to bite down gently on your clit, loving the way you squeal out and tell him to not stop. 

Your hands tangle in his black hair, tugging on it to try to gound yourself from how high you felt on pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeat, trying to close your legs around Heeseung’s head, the pleasure increasing and increasing. But, Heeseung stays inbetween your legs, his tongue delved deep inside of you. “I- I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum, whore, do it– let me see how much of a whore you really are.” Heeseung encourages you before he tongue fucks you again, nose pressed into your clit. 

“Oh, god, oh-,” you cry out, “Fuck!” you scream as you feel your orgasm hit. You feel wet drops land all on your inner thighs as your body goes almost numb from the pleasure. Your breathing is erratic as you let the pleasure consume your whole body. 

“Fuck, baby,” Heeseung groans out, his entire lower half of his face and collar of his shirt is soaked. “That was so fucking hot,” you open your eyes finally once the pleasure dies down, you take in Heeseung’s appearance and realize that you must have squirted again. Heeseung moves so you’re face to face, “You okay?” 

You nod against the pillow, “Yeah, just, waited a while for this.” 

Heeseung feels his heart clench at your words but doesn’t let it show, “Roll over,” 

Heeseung helps you onto your stomach, your ass up in the air for him. You hear him stand and undress himself quickly, almost as eager as you are. You watch as he opens his drawer and grabs a condom to slide on. He pumps his cock as he gets on the bed on his knees, gripping your ass as he gets behind you. 

“Gonna show you who’s messy pussy this is, huh baby?” Heeseung grunts as he starts to slide his thick length up and down your slit. 

“Yes, daddy, please,” you respond so obediently to him. 

Heeseung finally starts to push his hard cock into you, so, so slowly. It makes you whine out as he seemingly takes all the time in the world to fill you up. Once inside, both of his hands land on your ass cheeks, making you cry out. 

He slaps your one ass cheek once more, “Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking messy, baby.” 

“Just, just for you, daddy.” 

“Yeah? No one else?” Heeseung leans over so his chest is right against your back. 

“Yes.” 

“Good girl,” he praises before he’s leaning back up and moving his hips backwards, sliding his cock right out of you until just the tip is inside of you still, and he slams it back inside of you. He continues fucking into you like that until his pace has picked up feverishly. He’s fucking into you so roughly that your entire body is moving upwards on the bed, your hands holding onto the headboard to make sure you’re not rammed into it. 

“Yes! Just like that daddy, please!” 

“Just like this? The whore likes it when I, god, I fuck her hard and rough?” Heeseung questions, his grip on your waist tightening as he only moves his hips back and forth. 

“Yes! Fuck, yes!” 

Your face was smashed into the mattress as you let Heeseung fuck your pussy. If it wasn’t for Heeseung holdin gyour hips up then your whole body would flat against the mattress. He was fucking you until you were useless. Allowing him to use you and fuck you so good. 

“Did Hanbin fuck you this good? Get you to cum so good?” Heeseung grunts out, his voice becoming as breathless as you were. When you didn’t answer you earned another harsh slap on your ass, “Answer whore or I stop.” 

“No!” you instantly cry out, “No!” 

You spread your thighs farther apart, letting Heeseung have more room. You keep moaning at the sensation of his cock gliding so easily against your walls. His cock has never felt so hard and full before. It fills you up perfectly. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Heeseung groans out, slapping your ass again, loving the way you tighten even more every time he does. “You gonna cum?” 

You can only mumble a short yes as you feel the coil already starting to snap in your stomach. Heeseung wraps his arm around your abdomen so his fingers can rub at your clit sloppily. It was the final action that caused you to cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the wave of your orgasm took over your body completely. You had truly hit oblivion because of Lee Heeseung’s cock. 

Heeseung’s pulls his cock out of you, and quickly pulls off the condom before he starts jerking his cock at a fast pace. The juices from your pussy on his fingers spreads over his cock evenly. “C’mere, baby– wanna cum on your face.” 

You numbly roll over onto your back, letting Heeseung kneel closer to your face. You could hear and see your juices squelch on his cock from how fast he was jerking his cock. 

“Please cum, daddy, wanna taste your cum so bad,” you speak up to him, fucked out. 

Finally, Heeseung cums, “Fuck, fuck Y/n,”. Not a second later that you feel warm droplets of his cum hit your face. They land on your cheeks, lips and nose. He lets out a final groan before he drops to sit down on the bed beside you. He watches as you lick away his cum that landed on your lips before her scoops up the remaining on your cheeks and nose, “Open,” you do as your told and let him stick his cum covered fingers into your mouth. He feels you hum around them at the taste of his cum and the remnants of yourself. “Good girl,” 

When he pulls out his fingers he leans down to press a kiss onto your lips before he lays down beside you, finally able to try catching his breath. His room is silent besides your heavy breaths. 

Heeseung glances over at you after a few moments, taking in your tired, naked body. He watches the few sweat droplets train down your neck and hairline. Your messy hair is sprawled around his pillow with your lips swollen. Your ass is red from his slaps and he’s sure your pussy is just as red and puffy. He thinks that he should get up to get you a towel or something, but you’re already getting up, reaching for your clothes. 

You don’t care what your hair or makeup looks like as you dress, reality finally sinking in about what deal you’ve made with Heeseung. How you can only fuck each other. You never would have thought that Lee Heeseung could stick to only fucking one girl, so how the hell would he want only fuck you? 

“You going?” Heeseung asks you lazily from his laying position on his bed, his bare chest not covered by the sheet that covers his lower half. 

“Yeah, I gotta finish a paper that’s due tomorrow,” you lie so easily to him. Heeseung doesn’t respond as he watches you put your shoes back on and head for his bedroom door, but you hear him shuffle around on his bed. When you turn back to him, holding the door halfway open before you leave, his back is facing you as he rolled over onto his side, “Oh and Heeseung?” 

“Yeah?” he mumbles to you, fatigue evident in his voice. 

“I’m sorry I hooked up with Hanbin.” you tell honestly now. 

It’s silent for a moment and you wonder if he fell asleep before, “It’s fine– don’t worry about it.” 

Heeseung hears you sigh and then leave his room, closing the door behind you. 

He feels weird now that you’ve left. It’s become a routine for you two that after you fuck, you get food or talk or just lounge around whatever place you’ve just fucked in. He thinks maybe it’s because he’s usually the one to leave so quick after hooking up with someone. It saves him some awkwardness and closes any option for a conversation. But, that was before he started hooking up with you. 

With you, it’s different. He likes talking to you, hanging out with you, hearing whatever stupid story you just have to tell him. He doesn’t know why it’s different, just that it’s with you. You stand up to him and challenge him. You’re not clingy or looking for a relationship. You understand that that is something he could never give you. And it tugs at his heart a little in a way he absolutely hates. Because Heeseung hates relationships and feelings and everything that comes along with them. 

And he hates that he’s thought about what it would be like to be in a relationship with you. The past weeks have been hell for him because of his family, but when he would finally get some piece and quiet, all he would think about was you. Everytime he got a message from you it would clench his heart a little. But, he’s just too fucked up and he doesn’t want you to have to deal with all of his fucked up problems, too. 

Heeseung feels selfish a bit, telling you that he’s the only one that you can fuck. But, a deal is a deal, even if that means him being a little possessive over you. Because he knows that your little deal is the only thing he will truly ever have with just you, and nothing more. Because he’s Lee Heeseung, who doesn’t do relationship, and you’re Y/n, who doesn’t even want to be seen with him in public. 

As Heeseung contemplates the complex tide of his and yours secret arrangement, he couldn’t help but feel a longing for you, wishing that you stayed in his room with him, just a bit longer. 

After you and Heeseung had updated your deal, things seemed to go back to normal, at least the sex was. You would always text each other about when and where you needed the other. There was a comfortable rhythm, a balance almost. You would fuck, leave, text when your horny and repeat. 

Until one day when you had just finished hooking up in his car outside some stupid party you both were bored at. You were reaching for the car door when Heeseung asked if you wanted to get food or something, stay a little longer. You paused with your hand on the door knob and looked at him. 

“That’s not a part of our deal, is it, Hee?” you ask him with a knowing smirk. 

“Well, no, but I’m hungry,” 

You bit your lip as you contemplated his words, reaching your hand out to tangle your fingers in his hair, “I can’t, Shana and Dayeon are still inside, I’ll see you at school though, right?” 

Heeseung kept his masked smirk on his face at yours words, “Right,” 

“Enjoy McDonald’s for me.” You shove his shoulder before you get out of his camaro and head back inside to find your friends. 

Both of you let out a breath at the same time unknowingly. There was tension growing between you and neither one of you wanted to mention it. It would be better if it was ignored at all cost. Both of you had your reasons and it would just complicate things if it was brought up. But still, both of your hearts ached as you waved bye to Heeseung from the front porch as he drove away. 

After, you started to notice that Heeseung was texting you to meet up more often. You thought he just needed to destress at first, but now it seemed like he didn’t even want to fuck half the time you showed up. 

“You’re becoming clingy,” you tell him as you kiss down his neck as you were currently straddling his lap on your bed. 

“No, I’m not,” he replies instantly, feeling you smile into his skin. 

You sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders as you look at him, “You are,” you keep the smile on your face. 

“No, I’m not, I’m just horny, so why don’t you suck my dick like the good girl I know you are?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but move down to be inbetween his legs, ready to make him cum for the one millionth time. 

After you told him you think he’s becoming clingy, his hook up texts slowed down, which only made you crave him more. Especially since it was mid term season and all you had time to do was study. No parties, no fun, no Heeseung hookups. 

One night, Shana and Dayeon were tired from studying and headed out to some party that they had begged you go to with them. With your refusal, they left without you so you could study for the rest of the night in peace. 

It was well past midnight when you heard your phone vibrate from somewhere under all your papers and textbooks. 

Heeseung (best dick evr)  are u awake? 

You  yeah

Heeseung (best dick evr)  ok good bc i’m outside

Shocked, you quickly threw on a hoodie over your tank top and headed to your apartment door. 

As you opened the door, sure enough, Heeseung was there. And he was drunk. You could tell just from looking at him, and when he walked past you into your apartment he’s been in so many times, you could smell it. 

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?” you asked him concerningly. 

“What? I came to see you,” he replies with a subtle, slurred speech. 

“Okay… but we are not fucking with you in a state like this,” 

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “I didn’t come to fuck you, I just wanted to see you.” 

His explanation hangs in the air before you sigh, “Okay, come to bed, Heeseung.” 

He so easily flops down onto your bed, giggling drunkenly to himself as he bounces upwards on the mattress. He watches as you quickly try to fix your hair in the mirror by your door. 

“C’mere pretty girl,” Heeseung reaches his arm out to try to reach you from across the room. 

You scoff at his words, “Oh god, now you’re complimenting me?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“You never do that,” 

Heeseung looks taken aback at your words, “What? I do all the time.”

“Saying my pussy is so wet and tight does not count, Hee.” 

Heeseung laughs at your words but he can still tell that you’re serious, “Okay, well I compliment you in my head all the time,” 

“Yeah? Like what?” 

“Like,” Heeseung draws out the word, “how you’re so pretty, and funny, and responsible and how you have a fuckin’ smoking hot body.” 

You cover your face in your hands at his words, not believing how drunk he is in your bed right now. 

“Come here,” he whines out to you, and pats the spot next to him on your bed. 

“Fine,” you tell him and let him pull you into your bed. You lay down beside him like he instructs you to. So now both of you are laying side by side. Your bedroom lights are turned off, with just the moonlight and streetlamp coming in through your window. 

When your room goes silent again, Heeseung speaks up, “I do mean it though, those compliments.” 

“Hm, do you?” 

“Yeah, I do, because I like you– more than anyone.” 

You glance over at him, his hood from his sweater is on his head as he lays down, his eyes are closed as he speaks to you, mumbling something about when he keeps his eyes open he feels like the room is spinning. 

You don’t know how to respond to his words, trying to decipher what he means by them. 

“Don’t believe me?” Heeseung’s eyes open as he turns his head to look at you. 

“I don’t know what to believe.” You tell him earnestly. 

Heeseung sighs, “I do like you Y/n, but I’m just too, like messed up.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “What do you mean?” 

“Remember when we stopped talking a few weeks ago, because I said I had some shit to deal with?” With your nod, he continues, “Well it’s because my brother’s just gotten out of jail, and my parents are too drunk to help him. So I was helping him with money and to find a place to live and all that. He’s my best friend, so.” 

Your heart clenches at his confession, “What did your brother do, if I can ask?”

Heeseung waves his hand discardingly, “Took a the blame for my drunk parents crashing the car, nothing big.” 

“What? Heeseung that’s really big. Why would he do that?” your body turns to face him. 

Heeseung shrugs, “I don’t know, they’re drunks, but he’s always tried to help them– way more than I ever have. But he’s helped them, and now they aren’t even helping him. So I have to, because he’s my brother and he raised me.” 

You can’t help but reach your hand out to brush Heeseung’s bangs out of his face, “I’m sorry, Heeseung, that’s so tough. You’re so kind.” 

Heeseung shrugs, “I’m fine, it’s fine.” 

“Hee,” you call him, moving his chin so he looks at you, “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you can talk to me.” 

“Don’t say that to me.” 

“Why not?” 

“‘Cause it’ll just make me fall in love with you more.” 

Your heart raced with a mix of surprise and uncertainty as Heeseung’s words. It’s a drunk confession, and it leaves you with a torrent of emotions that are going to be difficult to untangle. 

Heeseung yawns then, rolling onto his side, “Night, Y/n.” 

“Night, Heeseung.” 

You try to sleep that night, but all you can think about is Heeseung’s words and how his warmth is radiating onto your back. It was the first time you had ever slept in the same bed together. You could smell his cologne, hear his light breaths, and feel everytime his hand shifted on your waist as he held you. You wondered if he’ll regret this in the morning. 

The morning sun crept through your curtain, casting a soft flow in the room as you and Heeseung woke up. Heeseung yawned before he realized how big of a headache he has. 

“Morning,” you tell him cautiously, remembering last night. 

“Morning,” Heeseung kept his hand on his head, the sunlight killing his head more. 

“Here,” you pass him the water and advil you kept on your nightstand. He gratefully took it, hoping it fixed his headache sooner rather than later. 

Heeseung glances down at both of your clothed bodies laying in your bed, “Did we?...” 

“No,” you shook your head, “You were so wasted.” 

Heeseung grins before plopping his head back against his pillow, “Yeah, sorry about that. The guys talkekd me into taking a break from studying and I guess I took too much of a break.” 

You crack a smile at his playfulness, “So you don’t remember much from last night?” 

Heeseung furrowed his brow as he tried to think, “Nah, I guess not a lot of it. I remember getting into an Uber and that’s it. Guess I can here.” He smiles cheekily at you. When he sees you don’t return his smile he asks, “Why? Did something happen?” 

You immediately shook your head, “No, nothing.” you forced a smile. Heeseung shrugged before pulling his hood over his eyes, complaining about your “shitty curtains”. 

As Heeseung left your apartment, quiet to not wake up your hungover roommates, you were left with a profound sense of not knowing what to believe or what to do. The revelation of Heeseung’s confession had messed you up. But the fact that he didn’t remember must about the event last night left you in a state of emotional limbo.

All you knew was that you could not fall in love with Lee Heeseung, no matter how tempting the general idea was. No, because falling in love with Lee Heeseung held consequences that you did not want to deal with. 

After the night Heeseung confessed to you and subsequently forgot about it, you avoided him at all costs. Whenever he would send you a text you would ignore it, your heart would arche with each unread message. If you spotted him in the hallays or around campus, you’d change your direction making a conscious effort to evade any interaction. 

Even the college parties that had once been a regular part of your social life were no longer an option. You knew that there was a high chance of running into Heeseung at one of them, and you couldn’t bear to face him under such circumstances. 

Your once thriving social and sex life had dwindled, replaced by a cloud of avoidance and self hatred as you grappled with the aftermath of his intoxicated confession. 

It didn’t take long for Shana and Dayeon to realize something was up with you, and this time, you told them everything. You told them about your not one, but two deals you’ve made with Lee Heeseung. How he had ignored your text messages because he had to deal with his family. How you hooked up with Hanbin. How Heeseung told you people think you’re a prude and shouldn’t be friends with them. And you told them how he had told you he loved you and had completely forgotten about it. 

You could tell that your friends were angry with you for keeping all of this from them for so long, for months, but most importantly they wanted to help you feel better. 

Dayeon spoke first, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry you felt like you had to kepe this from us, Y/n. But you don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Shana nodded in agreement, “Of course, we’re you’re friends, and we’re here for you.” 

You felt tears well up in your eyes as you realized the depth of their support. You hadn’t realized how much you truly needed your friends until that moment. “Thank you guys,” you said, your voice weak, “I’ve just been, so confused.” 

Shana and Dayeon exchanged a knowing look before enveloping you into a tight group hug. “We’ll figure it out together,” Dayeon reassured you like always, “You’re not alone, no matter what’s going on with Heeseung or you.” 

You felt a warmth in your heart for the first time as you embraced your friends, grateful for their unwavering support during the most turbulent and confusing time in your life. 

You’ve felt better since you reconnected with Shana and Dayeon. It had brought you a sense of comfort and support. The weight that you had been carrying seemed a little lighter and you were grateful to have your frends by your side once again. 

When you went to meet up with them at lunch, you could tell from a distance that something was wrong. You could see it on their faces as you walked up the table. 

“Y/n, I have something to tell you,” Dayeon spoke when you sat down, eyes widened in a trouble expression. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked your friends. 

“Hanbin’s been going around telling people that he “fucked the college” prude.” 

You felt your heart sank at the news. “Me?” 

Both of them nodded at you with a disappointed look on their face, worried about you. You tried to calm yourself, feeling anger rise up inside of you that you hadn’t felt for months. You were tired of all the drama that came with frat boys and you wished you had listened to your gut and just avoided them all completely. 

You didn’t say anything as you stood, storming off to the side of the cafeteria where you knew Sung Hanbin and his frat usually ate lunch. And sure enough, they were there. A group of guys surrounding Hanbin as he told them some apparently funny story as they all laughed along with what he said.

“Hanbin,” you call out to him. The table going silent as they turn to see you. “I heard what you’ve been saying about me.” 

Hanbin looked taken aback as he glanced from you to his friends, “But it’s true though, no?” 

You roll your eyes, “Actually no, cause I am not a prude and the sex with you fucking sucked.” 

You notice how some of his friends have to cover their mouths to stifle their laughs, not being able to look at Hanbin as they did so. You could see the anger start to rise on Hanbin’s usually so-sweet face. 

“Whatever Y/n, it was just a joke anyways.” 

Your frustration boiled over, “A joke?” you snapped. “You know what Hanbin, Heeseung was right about you. You are a fucking asshole. So get off this little frat-boy-college-high-horse you seem to be on and come back to reality. Because maybe then you’d see how truly pathetic you are.” 

The weight of your words hung heavy in the cafeteria, everyone silent as you stand up to Hanbin. His expression shifted from playful to angry so quickly. 

“Heeseung?” Hanbin questions with a scoff, “Why don’t you go fuck him, too then, prude.” 

“Maybe I will, at least he’ll be able to find the clit.” 

Hanbin’s group of friends all gasp out into a fit of laughter as you walk away. You couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction for standing up for yourself and defending your choices. You felt like you had some sense of control in your life, again. And maybe that would help make up your mind about at least some things. 

After a storm warning that would fill the entire city and cancelling all classes, you found yourself stuck at home. Which sucked because you really felt like partying for the first time in weeks. Your sense of self was slowly returning thanks to the reviatlized connection with your friends. You were starting to regain your confidence. 

As the rain poured down in torrents, your phone rang. Your heart stopped and you hesitated for amoment before you answered it. 

“Hello?” you asked into the line. 

“Hey,” Heeseung’s voice came through, sounding distant and shaky. “It’s me. I’m really cold and really wet. Can I come in? Please?” 

Your heart skipped a beat. It had been weeks since you had seen or spoken to him. You didn’t know what to expect as you dashed to your apartment door and swung it open. You were met with a sight that took your breath away. 

There, stood Lee Heeseung, drenched from head to toe, his hair clinging to his forehead and his clothes clinging to his frame. His expression was a mix of relief and vulnerability as he looked at you, rain drops trickling down his cheeks. 

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice unsteady, “I’m so sorry for everything.” 

“What do you mean?” you ask him, your hand tightening on the doorknob. 

“I know I told you that I love you. I remember. I was just, scared.” Your jaw drops at his words, after all this time, he really remembered the confession. “But now I’m not.” Heeseung steps closer to you as he looks into your eyes, the most serious you’ve ever seen him, “I love you Y/n, and if I’m going to be rejected, I want to be rejected to my face– not by ignoring my messages or running away when you see me in the halls. So, there. I love you, and I mean it.” 

You stand there, jaw dropped as you take in his words. He’s here, standing here, soaking wet and so vulnerable as he tells you his true feelings. 

With your lack of response Heeseung starts to get antsy and begins to turn to leave you, “Wait, Heeseung,” you reach out and grab his wet sleeve, stopping him. “I can’t reject you to your face,” you shake your head at him, watching as his eyes drop to the floor, “but it’s because I love you, too.” 

Heeseung’s whole demeanor lights up the darken room, “Really?” 

You laugh, “Yes, really. I love you so much, Heeseung.” 

Heeseung doesn’t waste a minute before he’s reaching for you, pulling your face upwards to meet his in a feverish, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed a multitude of all the unspoken emotions you have felt for each other for so long. A blend of longing and desire that remained hidden for too long. Your fingers tangled in Heeseung’s wet hair while his cold hands held your cheeks. 

He tasted of his usual, mixed with rain and love. Time seemed to stand still as you shared the most intense kiss you have ever experienced. Your hearts beating in a quick unison, echoing the longing you had tried so hard to suppress. 

You dragged Heeseung into your bedroom with you, no longer caring if Dayeon or Shana heard you with him. 

Heeseung pushes you onto your back, stripping off his wet clothes, nodding at you to do the same. You both reconnect with him on top of you, lips meeting each others with a passionate fever. He lets his hand trail down to between your bodies, his fingers rubbing your clit gently. 

“Daddy,” you whimper out to him at the feeling.

Heeseung shakes his head no, pressing kisses into your neck, “Just call me, Hee, baby.” You nod at him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him, wanting to never stop. 

Heeseung leans back onto his knees, spreading your legs for him, he stares at your wet, core as he’s about to slide in his cock, “Shit, wait, do you have a condom?” he’s almost breathless when he asks. 

“Just fuck me raw, Hee, please.” you tell him, eyes begging from it. 

“Fuck, okay, baby.” Heeseung leans over to kiss you, “You sure?” 

You smile against his lips, “Yes I’m sure, please.” With one more final kiss, Heeseung slides his cock into you slowly, letting both ofyou feel his bare cock sldie against your velvet walls. 

“Holy shit, Y/n.” Heeseung curses, “Seriously, holy shit, you feel so good.” You can only whimper in response as you feel every vein of his cock go up your mesh walls. You mewl and whine until Heeseung’s completely inside of you, holding your legs still from moving, “Just slipped right in, so good.” 

“Hee,” you call for him, your face completely blissed out from his cock. “Move, please.” 

Heeseung nods, listening to you as he starts to thrust his hips back and forth. Your pussy’s so wet that it lets his cock move so easily. It makes you both feel like you’re in heaven. You keep moaning out, edging Heeseung on as he keeps building his pace slowly. His fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles around it. He groans out when he feels your clench around his bare cock tighter. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep, Hee.” you tell him, “Feels so good.” 

“I know, baby, I know.” Heeseung nods, “Like you’re made for my cock.” His words make your groan out more. They have such an affect on you that he’ll never truly understand. 

Heeseung’s grip on your legs tightens as he slowly picks up his pace, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm already. Your wet, velvet walls keep sucking him in with every thrust, tightening around him everytime his thumb swivels against your swollen clit. 

“God, yes, fuck your pussy, Heeseung, yes,” you nod at him, grip tightening on the sheets as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

“Fuck, who’s pussy is it?” 

“Yours, Hee, all yours.” 

Heeseung grunts out, eyes closing as he fucks you. His thrusts are getting sloppier, never feeling so good before. Your wall just keep sucking him in, wanting to keep him inside of you. 

“Are you gonna cum?” You ask him, recognizing when he’s close by now. 

“Not without you, baby, please cum on my cock, wanna feel it bare.” Heeseung nods, his thumb circling your clit harder and faster and he keeps thrusting his dick inside of you. In and out with his just his hips rolling so perfectly. 

“Fuck!” you cry out, “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop.” 

“I won’t, baby, just cum, I got you, just let go.” Heeseung’s voice is stern when he speaks, despite his chest heaving so quickly. 

With his words, you hit your climax, a high pitch moan coming out of your mouth before Heeseung covers your mouth with his hand, trying to keep you quiet for the sake of your roommates. Your orgasm has you shaking, soaking Heeseung’s bare cock while he fucks you through it, feeling your wells throb around him, edging him on to his own orgasm. 

“God, you’re such a good girl,” Heeseung shakes his head at you. 

“Want you to cum, Heeseung– wanna feel your cum in my pussy.” you tell him, your hands holding onto his forearms as he leans over you, dropping your legs and holding himself up on the bed. “Please, wanna feel it drip out of me so bad.” 

“Oh God, oh God, fuck, baby-,” Heeseung finally cums, throwing his head back as he reaches his climax, feeling completely blissed out. You keep moaning as you feel his cum shoot up inside of you for the first time. The warmth spreading over your walls. “I love you,” Heeseung leans down to kiss you, his lips not leaving yours until you push him away for air. 

“I love you, too.” 

Heeseung very slowly pulls out of you, both of you watching as his white cum starts to dribble out of you. Heeseung groans as he watches your swollen pussy leak his cum, thinking to himself that he’ll never get use the sight of it. He scoops up his cum and you open your mouth, already knwoing by now what he wants you to do. You hum around his fingers as you drink the substance off of them. Your tongue circles his fingers, making him tell you to stop or he’ll get hard again. 

When you’ve calmed down, Heeseung lifts you and brings you to the shower with him. He tells you that he’s been wanting to shower with you and take care of after sex for so long now, but he was scared. You reassure him that there’s nothing to be scared of now. That it’s him and you and that you love each other. 

Heeseung does what he’s always wanted to do, washes your body after he ruins you, wanting to take care of you. He kisses all over your body as he cleans you, whispering about how much he loves you over the shower water running. 

And you let him fuck you again after, up against the shower wall. The slowest, loveliest sex you’ve ever had. His hands carressing every part of you as he tells you what a beautiful girl you are and how he’s so lucky to have you, so lucky to be able to fuck your pussy. How he never wants to lose you. 

And when he’s done cleaning you up again, you lay in your bed together, warm as outside thunders and rains so heavily. You lay in each others embrace as your souls finally connect together in peace. 

“You know,” you start, “did you really believe the rumour that I was a prude before you met me?” 

Heeseung shrugs, “Yeah, I guess.” You gasp playfully at his answer. “What? You believed the rumour that I had a daddy kink.”

“What?” 

“I mean, I never even tried that whole daddy think until I met you– I thought you had the daddy kink.” 

Your jaw remains open at his words, “I can’t believe you right now, Hee.” 

Heeseung laughs as he pulls you closer into his chest under the covers, “C’mere, baby, let daddy take care of you.” 

“Heeseung!” 

Your bedroom is filled with laughter as you continued to talk about all the wasted time you two could have shared together if neither of you were so scared and stubborn. The rain was still pouring outside, trapping the two of you in your bedroom for days. With your hands intertwined and hearts pounding together. 

Neither of you know what will happen when people find out the college prude is dating the notorious frat president, but neither of you cared, finding complete solace in each other. As you keep each other close, you know that you were no longer fighting the riptides of uncertainty alone, but together you will navigate the waters. Your connection was stronger than ever as you brace yourselves for whatever might happen in the unpredictable currents of life. 

@ taeghi, 2023. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

stay safe everyone :)

[supercutszns]

bitter to the taste; luke castellan

series masterlist

wc + pairing: 5.5k, luke castellan x f!reader

synopsis: a sharp blade, a black eye, and (more than) two kisses.

warnings: this is even sluttier than the last one, language, sword fighting, sharp objects, blood/injuries, reader is still a horrible person and so is luke but he's also a loooser, making out, allusions/mentions of sex but no super explicit descriptions, kind of fluffy at the end

notes: i’m starting to hate this bc i think i’ve been staring at it too long sorry if this is not as good as pt.1 but i have plans for this series ok. also READER AND LUKE ARE NOT GOOD PEOPLE!!! THEIR RELATIONSHIP WILL NOT ALWAYS BE GOOD!!! THEY SUCK!! they are also not real but keep that in mind :) synopsis inspired by crush by ethel cain; designated song for this fic is unpunishable by ethel cain (i’ve got a whole chronological playlist for these freaks like it’s serious)

You’ve always had a taste for violence. And an equally powerful penchant for sloth. 

You prefer to watch the carnage, not participate. It satisfies something inside you that you know, if it wasn’t for your laziness, could cause something irrevocable. Who the hell has time for that?. You’d rather lie back and watch instead.

This flaw of yours is the only reason you haven’t stirred more trouble, you think. It’s the reason you never attend camp games or sparring lessons. Sometimes, when you do, a dark muscle flexes inside your heart to curl out of its slumber, forming a hunger you don’t have otherwise. The second it starts to pry you have to rear yourself back and tuck the monster in. Banish the need for something more.

You don’t want to feed it. You don’t know what happens if you do. So you let other people do the feeding for you.

Luke cuts through two dummy heads in one swoop. It’s fucking gorgeous. The moon reflects off his sword, a silver sheen casting his face when he’s in the right spot. His brows are set, eyes so dark they blend with the night. Every motion is ruthless. Satisfying. 

You don’t know how many times you’ve watched him like this. He called you out for it last night, but you’re sure he doesn’t know the half of it. The shadows are a sacred cloak to you, and you wait inside them until you want your presence known. 

Meet me tomorrow. 

It runs through your head like a broken record. You can still feel his breath on your lips and your neck is still tender—had to wear a sweater in the blazing heat to hide the marks. Since you were created you’ve accepted a universal truth about yourself: you don’t harbour affection for anyone or anything. There’s not a single thing you’ve felt drawn to or protective over but yourself. It’s solitary, yes, and lonely, yes, but that’s the way you’re supposed to be. 

But you think about last night. You think about the moments between the kisses and the rush. When he teased you against your ear. When his hand brushed a certain spot on your back and something much lighter fluttered inside of you. When you crawled into sleep and thought about him, those were the moments that struck you the strangest. 

His gaze pans over the treeline every once in a while, the anger diluted. Then it comes back twice as hard as he shreds another dummy to pieces. 

He’s waiting for you. Oh, this is rich! A better person would probably turn around and go spoon their offerings into the bonfire the second they understand what they’re doing is incredibly destructive. But who are we kidding? You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. 

So you take a step forward, slip out of the comfort of the dark, and the next time he looks to the treeline he knows you’re there. He can’t see you, but he knows. 

You wait. His strikes are less tenuous, much smoother. It almost makes you laugh. Some fucking showman he is. 

Eventually, he buries his blade in the dirt and wipes his brow. “Are you gonna come talk to me or are you gonna stare at me all night like an owl?”

You relish in the feeling of shedding the darkness, coming into the light of the moon. “Hi,” you say flatly, but there’s a tiny smile on his face when he sees you that almost puts you off. 

“Hello, rotten.” He tries to lean on the hilt of his sword but it isn’t quite tall enough so he stumbles. It’s so pathetic it almost makes you laugh. 

“Don’t call me that,” you grimace.

“Okay, back to heathen?”

“Don’t call me that either.”

“Well, you don’t seem too happy when people call you by your name so pick your poison here.” 

You don’t say anything, your mouth set in a scowl. “All right, both it is,” Luke shrugs.

He’s different from last night. Less impatient. You hope it’s not because he thinks he has you now—he’s got another thing coming. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna come,” he says with a crooked grin, neither bashful nor ashamed. 

You’ve made your way closer to him, the soft grass turning to dusty earth. “Don’t know why I did,” you mutter crassly. 

Having abandoned his sword, Luke chuckles wryly. “Yes, you do.”

That bitterness he hides from everyone else pierces through. He tilts your face up like he did yesterday, the press of his fingers beneath your chin almost burning you. You know he’s peering at the marks on your neck. 

“If you made me come here just to hook up with me you’re delusional,” you glare. 

“What, like that’s not why you’re here?” He pushes your face up a little higher, grinning a little when you add resistance. “I’m a gentleman, you know. I can be patient.”

This guy is full of fucking shit.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you snipe. The only point of contact you have is his hand on your chin, but you’re a hair’s breadth away from having everything else. The air drifting between you is almost palpable, shrinking smaller and smaller like it’s terrified of being trapped between you.

He keeps your face still. He’s studying you, and you’re suddenly curious about what he sees. You remember all those looks you’d share at the dinner tables that made this happen in the first place. What did he see then? 

“You wanna fight?”

It takes you a second to react. “What?”

“You want to fight. Pick up a sword, let’s go.” He smiles as he finally lets you go, waltzing away from you to unbury his sword from the dirt. His touch permeates through your skin and you hate it. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I can’t fight.”

“Sure you can,” he replies, grabbing another sword from the training rack. “You need to burn off a little steam.”

You laugh sharply. “And you think me waving a sword around is gonna do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” he grins. “It’s the method that lets us keep the most clothes on.” 

You glare at him. His smirk is a mile wide. The way your stomach is simmering almost makes you sick; it’s like gorging yourself on candy except this time the candy has a sword and maybe wants to fuck you. 

You just watch as he hands you his sword, and the moonlight glinting off the metal has you believing it’s not the kind used for training. “I’ll use the dull one,” he assures. “C’mon, heathen. I know you’ve used a sword before, they force us to.”

“I usually skip those classes.”

He laughs. You can’t tell if it’s at you or with you. “Of course you do.”

You don’t like following orders, but oh, what the hell. Luke knows something about you, just like you know something about him. You’re only a little curious about it. 

“Straighten your back,” is the first thing he says once you’ve taken your stance across from him. The blunt of his sword reaches out to tap your hip. 

You begrudgingly do as you’re told. He watches you mirthfully, and the press of his sword against you starts to feel like a substitute for his hand. All the closeness you’re hungry for, dampened by cold steel. It still makes you buzz. 

He gives you the barebones—the right grip, how to maneuver, the proper balance. But long gone is his easy disposition. The motor inside him that powered all those dummy beheadings and disembowelments is running again, except this time it’s for you. He wants a fight. This is his battlefield. All right, you’ll bite.

You start to spar with the skill of an overgrown toddler. The sword feels like an unnatural ligament hanging off your body. Luke is precise, convicting, far more enthusiastic than you. “You can do better than that,” he prods after your swords clash lazily for the billionth time. “Stop going easy.”

“You’re going easy,” you shoot back. 

“Yeah, but I’d really rather not. Come on.” 

There’s a moment of hesitation. You think about that dark thing you keep harboured. A muscle aching to be used. 

“Come on,” he says again, and he almost sounds pissed. “All of a sudden you’re playing nice? What are you afraid of?”

Something flares inside you. “Nothing!”

“Then pick up the sword and fight me.”

You huff and roll your eyes, but your next swing is far more inspired. Luke blocks it easily, but you don’t care. “There we go,” he nods. “Again.”

This is more than you bargained for when you decided to come see him. All you want is to make out with this hot, awful person and have him tell you hot, awful things about yourself you probably already know. Why do you have to fight to get it? 

He keeps provoking you no matter how hard you try. Your temper picks up the more you swing, discordant clangs bruising the air, but it’s still not enough. Luke doesn’t let up. Of course the one time you try to be nice, you’re not allowed to. On second thought, why are you reigning yourself in for Luke? The only other person in camp with a real, consuming viciousness? If anything you should hit him twice as hard, since he’s so sure he can take it. 

“No wonder you’re so angry all the time,” Luke heaves out, and it gives you a swell of satisfaction. “You don’t have a proper outlet. Maybe you’d be nicer if you didn’t sit around and complain all day.”

“Shut up,” you gnash your teeth. 

“Just saying, maybe you should do something about it.”

You’re getting lost in the rhythm of the swords, the adrenaline, the sweat passing the scar on his cheek. Every swing you think less and less, and that dark muscle flexes more and more. It feels like home to you. Like a good meal. Your bones ache and the world has darkened, but that rotten pit inside you cracks open in full bloom. 

Luke keeps egging you on but you can’t hear him. Not like he still needs to. You think you’re smiling, or huffing furiously, or both. The sharpness of the sword intrigues you. A million terrible things reflect off its blade and you imagine them, all at once, until you are out of your body and the black hole inside you has properly wedged itself open. 

Luke jabs at you and you bring your sword down with a vengeance. But it’s a little too low. You only notice when he drops his weapon to the side and staggers back.

The fog of violence falters. It fades almost completely when he hisses long and hard, eyes screwed shut, and you see the tear in his shirt. In his skin. 

“Shit,” you say. “Fuck.”

You don’t sound sorry, you don’t think you are sorry, especially when he laughs. It’s a wheezy one through his teeth as you come up to him, but a laugh nonetheless. “Knew you were going easy,” he remarks through a wince. 

You ignore him, looking down at the injury. A  gash across his abdomen. It’s bleeding a little, but not enough for it to drip. You did that. Just looking at the blood, you feel the bitter taste of it in your mouth, the reward a temporary hunger for carnage brought you. This is why you don’t play camp games. 

“I’ve got thick skin. I’m fine,” Luke says casually. “I’ve got a medical kit under that tree over there in case I beat myself up too bad.” He’s no longer scrunched in pain, and you’ve got a feeling he’s telling the truth. So you go fetch the kit where he said it was. You need to wrap that slash. Not because you’re sorry for him, but because looking at it makes you angry. 

You kneel and pop the lid of the small tin kit, covered in dirt. It’s mostly gauze and bandages. Rubbing alcohol too. “Just give me the gauze, that’s all I need,” Luke gestures. 

“Shut the fuck up, I’m doing it myself.” You’ve already torn off some gauze, sitting all the way up on your knees. 

“Most people just say sorry.”

“You pushed me,” you spit back, surprisingly forceful. Luke’s smile drops. You take a deep breath, adjusting yourself to get eye level with the injury. “I told you I don’t fight.”

You’re not sure what makes Luke give in, but he doesn’t say a word as you lift the hem of his torn shirt and he holds it up. There’s no proud remark about your eyes lingering on his stomach, or the hesitation in your hands. You stare at the wound. It really is shallow. Your thumb presses at the skin around it and he winces. “My bad,” you mutter. 

As you sterilize the cut and wrap the gauze around his torso, you try not to let your fingertips cling to the warmth on his skin. You try not to notice the other scars littered there, most faded to the point they should be impossible to pick up even in the sun. It’s obvious he’s staring at you. Your neck is crawling with warmth. But you don’t engage, you just wrap the gauze a few times and do your best not to notice the rise and fall beneath his muscles as he breathes. Then you fasten things neatly and put everything away so you can get up. Any second. Come on. 

“Good?” You ask instead, exhaling. 

“Good,” he affirms. He slides a hand under your forearm and gets you up. It stays there once you’re standing. The night stills. 

“I’m guessing you’re adding ‘attempted killer’ to your list of horrible qualities,” you go on to break the silence.

He holds your gaze unyieldingly. “I’d consider that a pro, actually.” 

You are entirely fed up with this drawn out evening, but you can’t bring yourself to speed anything up any more than stepping closer so your chests brush. “I will give you one, though,” he continues, craning down to your ear. You smell his skin and it sends you back to the position you were in yesterday. 

He finally kisses your jaw, just once, then your neck. You shiver. “You’re too tense.” Another kiss behind your ear. It’s not enough. “Do you even know how to have fun?”

“I don’t want to have fun,” you reply bitterly. I just want to make out with you, asshat.

Luke’s breath frosts over your face when he chuckles, but before he can get any further away you catch his mouth with yours. Almost instinctively his arm winds around you to pull you in closer, your hand looping through his curls. It's a relief, knowing last night wasn't some freak accident. This does feel good, actually, and it can happen. Everything you felt yesterday is only more urgent now, hungrier, and you're pretty sure the way you kiss him gives that away.

He indulges you, squeezing the base of your hips as his other hand thumbs across the marks on your neck. This is so fucking embarassing—you think you whine when he bites down on your bottom lip. You’ve never needed something this bad, you’ve never needed anything. But you press yourself as close to him as you can manage and his hand runs lower, slips against your inner thighs, and it’s difficult to worry about anything else. 

Until he pulls away. Like a dick. 

He doesn’t go far, his forehead pressed to yours, but you feel like pulling out all his hair. It’s a muddling mix of frustration and longing you’re starting to associate with him. “Dude,” you groan, an inner coil only starting to unwind begrudgingly compressing. 

“Let’s go for a swim,” he says. The enthusiasm is almost alarming. Almost makes him look younger.

You’re homicidal. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, heathen. Let’s go for a swim, come on.”

He’s rubbing circles on your thigh, which only makes you want to strangle him. “But I—I don’t have my bathing suit,” you string out. 

The smile gets more boyish. “Wow, whatever shall we do?”

It’s another challenge. Another dare. And he knows what you want, fucking jerk. You’re going to kill him. 

“Fine,” you grunt, and the second the words leave your lips you’re pulled to the lake. 

It’s a warm, sticky evening, only made worse with the sweat and the half-assed kissing, so the water doesn’t seem all that bad. Unfortunately, you don’t like giving into demands. So you stare ghoulishly at your fingernails as Luke tosses off his ripped shirt and his shorts so he can plunge into the lake. “Aren’t you going to at least come in?” He asks, but you don’t look at him. 

“I don’t like swimming,” you lie. 

“At least your feet. It’s nice, I swear!”

A splash, like smoke moving through wind chimes. You look up and Luke has completely submerged, popping his head up closer to the mouth of the dock. “Please,” he says with such conviction your resolve turns to butter. Gods, what is happening to you? You still need that lobotomy! 

You sigh, roll your eyes, turn your back to him. “Fuck this,” you mutter under your breath. You undress to your undergarments and you’re not sure if you want Luke to be watching or not. The moon touches your bare skin and a chill trickles through you. 

You take a seat at the edge of the dock, knees tucked to your chest. Luke swims over for you right away. His hair is dripping against his skin, and you hate how beautiful it looks. The waterline is high tonight, almost ridiculously so, so he props his elbows up on the dock with no problem. “Come in,” he urges. 

“No.”

“Just your legs?”

“No.”

“Gods, I’ll make it worth it, just throw your damn legs in!” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. His face is stubbornly pink. Oh, so now he wants something. You take your time uncurling yourself and Luke wades away from the dock so you can put your feet in. The water goes up to your calves, and you shiver. “So fucking difficult,” he mutters, and your pulse flickers. 

“Sorry, what was that?” You let yourself grin for the first time all night. 

“Nothing,” he hums. This time when he comes to the dock, he wraps his hands around your calves. You’re pretty sure he can stand here because he stops treading. The warmth of the water seems to spread further, long past the threshold of your knees. 

He rests his chin just above your knee, water pooling on your skin. “Stop dripping on me,” you complain. 

“Sorry.” He fake pouts when he kisses the damp spot. You see, ever so faintly, a diabolic shift in his expression. He nudges your leg with the point of his nose, then kisses it, then starts to move it aside. “Feel bad about teasing you all night,” he murmurs, still with an edge. He presses more kisses on your legs. “I really did want to see you.”

The irony that he’s still teasing is not lost on you. You’re not loving how desperately warm you’re starting to feel. “Why’s that?” You lean back on your palms. 

“You’re a very interesting person,” he quips innocently. His hands are cupping the backs of your calves. He’s pulled you a lot closer to the water, and somehow you’ve just noticed. Another blistering kiss on the inside of your thigh. 

“You’re fucking evil,” you scathe. 

He looks up at you from between your legs. “You have literally done nothing but berate and injure me this whole evening.”

“Yeah, and right after I patch you up you jump in the water for shits. You’re playing infection roulette, Castellan.”

“See? You’re so mean.” He sighs, and in a move that almost surprises you to death, he hoists both your legs over his shoulders and they dangle into the river behind him. “And here I am anyway, making it up to you.”

You are suddenly illuminated on the purpose of this situation. Why Luke is between your legs. Your heart jolts. “Luke, you can’t be serious.” 

“Mmhm.” He leans forward to kiss right under your navel. 

You hate how much you want him to do it again, how your body burns, but you avert your eyes. “Someone’s gonna—someone’s gonna hear us.”

He snorts, “No they won’t. Either this or you come in the water with me. Or both. We’ll see.”

A huge smile cracks across your face before you push it back down. You’re going to spend a lot of time coming back to this moment, this night, wondering why. “What is wrong with you.”

It comes out like a compliment when it leaves you. You want to vanish. Luke chuckles, and something foreign to the both of you buzzes through the air. 

“Are you going to be nice?” He asks against your skin. 

“Are you going to be quick?”

His mouth finds your hip bones and yeah, why the hell would you say no to this? He nods, “Swear.” 

That’s all you need. You let your eyes slide shut and your head tilts towards the sky. Luke takes your permission and runs with it, pries you open with his mouth until the stars soak through the black of your eyelids. 

You discover pretty quickly neither of you are good at keeping promises. 

The next time you need Luke’s med kit, he’s already awake. 

It’s been happening more and more often. You lurking around camp past moonrise and finding Luke outside his cabin, going for a walk or a stretch or a … something with you. 

“Do you ever sleep?” You ask him sometimes between flurries of kisses with your back against a tree. 

“Could ask you the same thing, heathen,” he squeezes your hips and nips at your neck, but never answers the question. And neither do you, so you’re both okay with it. You’d hate to give up this feeling, but he doesn’t need to know that.

This is the first time in your punitive life you have felt alive. Like a person, with bones and flesh and soul, a real presence. Not a ghost of smoke and shadow. You are real. 

Fooling around makes you feel like an actual teenager. You’re young, you remember when Luke joins you in the dark. You’re having fun. His hands under your shirt and his mouth on your collarbone, the way he bites down and winces when you do something a little too well, when you string out his name and he rewards you for it. You’re both greedy, insatiable people, so there’s a push and pull only the two of you would ever be able to handle. And nobody has to know. Despite all the bruises, the sleepless nights, the swollen lips, all you and Luke share in the daylight are noxious looks, and that's only if he can find you. A perfect crime. Camp Half-Blood’s angel and the vice that lives in the shadows. But in the dark, it’s hard to tell which is which. 

“Luke,” you whisper. “Luke.”

“I’m up,” he grumbles, peering up at you. “You shouldn’t sneak into my cabin.” He was already sitting up in his bed when you slipped in, and he didn’t notice you were there till you were right in front of him.

“Worried someone will catch me? You should know better.” 

He follows you outside so you don’t wake the other campers. There’s a thrill knowing just one interaction between the two of you could ruin both your reputations forever. 

“What is it, heathen?” He asks as the door closes behind him. It’s so dark and your back is turned to him, but his voice is drenched in smugness. “You don’t usually want to put up with me more than once a night.”

“Don’t have a choice,” you mutter, staring out at the camp. You go to chew on your bottom lip, but you wince immediately. “Where’s your kit thingy? The one we used after I impaled you.” 

“You mean after you lightly grazed me?” 

“Just tell me where it is, Luke.”

Your sharpness could cut through any sleepy daze he possibly has. He’s silent behind you for a second. “Why?” He asks.

“Because I need it.”

His hand curls around your shoulder and before you can think to submerge yourself in darkness, he turns you around. When he sees you, his face breaks from something proud to something … you’re not sure you like. “Oh, heathen,” he murmurs. “What happened to you?”

You guess it’s a semi-appropriate reaction, although you expected at least a grimace. To put it lightly, your face looks gnarly as fuck. There’s a bruise on your cheekbone and your lip is split. But what really draws attention is the half-formed, garish black eye swelling up your right side. 

“Just the usual. Pissed someone off.” It hurts the skin on your lip that’s caked with blood. 

He rests his thumb on your unbruised cheek, but somehow it still stings. You know he can’t see much of you in the dark but he tries. The prolonged eye contact without the imminent promise of a kiss feels foreign. “You need to go to the Apollo cabin,” he concludes, brows pushed together. 

A laugh slips past your broken lips. “No fucking shot. They would not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because one of their shit-eaters did this!”

The words take a moment to register. You see them filtering through Luke’s brain. He blinks absurdly. “An Apollo guy beat you up?”

“Not beat up. Just … tussled.”

“How much tussling earns you a black eye, exactly? From Apollo kids.”

“Gods, just tell me where your kit is so you can go back to fucking sleep.”

His fingertips inch around the back of your neck, thumb still against your face. “Already wasn’t sleeping. I might as well help you,” he shrugs. “I move the kit every once in a while so some other campers don’t ravage it.”

“I don’t need help.”

Luke opens his mouth, then sighs deeply. He takes a firm hold of your arm and starts to tug you along. “Hey, what—” you swat at his arm. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs. “Come on.”

It’s strange. Luke’s never done you a favour before. At least not one like this. You’re disgruntled enough that you had to go ask him in the first place and now he’s dragging you around? “This isn’t such a big deal, Luke,” you badger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure, whatever. Wait right here.” He lets go of you and only then you realize you’re in front of the Apollo cabin. You grimace, and Luke must have noticed because he says, “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna go inside and grab some things. No one’s gonna jump you.”

You scowl at him, and he just laughs. A part of you hopes he hits his head on the way in. You hide anyway. 

It’s a few minutes of waiting in the oppressive summer heat, until Luke emerges from the cabin with his hands full. He looks around, hesitantly calling, “Heathen?” Then again. You move out of your hiding spot and he jogs over to greet you. 

“Nice haul,” you comment. There’s an ice pack, cotton pads, a few miscellaneous items. “How’d you get them?”

He smiles widely. “Everyone loves me, heathen. It’s not hard.”

“…So you stole them.”

“Yes, but only because I’m too tired to talk to people and I’m protesting for your sake,” he rattles off. “Now hold this ice pack before it gives me frostbite.”

The two of you make your way down to the docks again. It’s morphed into your usual meeting place, since the waves lapping at the shore mask when Luke gets a little too noisy just to piss you off. (At least that’s what he tells you.)

He’s stashed his little tin in a different tree this time. After he retrieves it he sets everything out like a chef preparing to make a meal out of gauze and rubbing alcohol. 

Your head has been throbbing for the past few hours. You’re not proud that you antagonized the wrong Apollo kid and got a shiner for it. You’re less proud that you came to Luke for help. Just like everyone else does.

“Come,” he gestures, tugging at the waistband of your pants. You scoot closer to him and swallow the weight of your pulse when he touches you. 

Luke slowly presses the ice pack to your black eye, letting you hold it. “What did you do to earn this, anyway?” He asks, head tilted to the side. 

You’re hissing because of the ice, half-consciously shifting into him. “The usual. Spat at him. Made fun of his daddy a little too much. Tripped him so he landed face-first in his offerings.”

“You did not,” Luke laments as he dots alcohol onto a cotton pad. 

“You’re allowed to say you’re proud of me, Saint Castellan. I won’t tell. You can be mean.” Your voice drips with irony, and you hope it bothers him. The flex in his jaw gives it away. 

“You’re always gonna be meaner,” is all he says back. “This is gonna hurt.”

It’s all the warning he gives before he presses the pad against your lip. The sting envelops you immediately, and your good eye squeezes shut. “Shit, ow!” 

“Stop moving your mouth.”

“Fuck,” you swear anyway. Your lip burns so hard you can feel it in your teeth. 

Luke holds your jaw with his other hand so you can’t shy away. “I’ll kiss it better,” he teases. “Almost done.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke takes the pad off a few moments later. “Serious question. How are you so awful to people all the time?”

A groan tears through your throat with such force your head tilts back. “Not you too! I don’t need a fucking reason, there is no reason. Why doesn’t anyone get that?” 

“I’m not asking why. I’m asking how.”

He’s oddly serious, the caress of his thumb on your cheek far slower. You hate it when people want a reason why you’re like this, just to help them sleep at night. But from the bags lining Luke’s eyes, sleep doesn’t seem to be on his radar. 

“I just don’t care,” you admit, shrugging. “I don’t care about any of them. I don’t care about what they can do to me. I don’t care about anything.”

“…What about the Gods?”

It makes you cock your head. “Huh?”

“You wouldn’t care about them, either?”

You think, but only about which words to use. “No,” you decide, “They don’t scare me. They’re nothing. What are they gonna do to me?”

Luke snorts, almost nervously. “Uh, punish you for saying that, for one.”

You turn back to him, ice pack leaving your eye as you gesture. “How? By killing me? Pecking out my eyeballs? Burning me alive? I’m telling you, I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. It’s all just nothing to me. I’m fucking unpunishable, I’d like to see them try.” 

Huffing, you look back up at the firmament of stars. Luke says nothing. 

The grass rustles as he shifts, and his mouth ghosts over the bruise on your eye. “Unpunishable,” he murmurs, like he’s testing it out. Then he places an uncharacteristically gentle kiss just beneath your eye. And another just above. “We’ll see about that.”

You get that feeling again, the unbearable lightness in a place it shouldn’t be. Mixed with the poison lodged in your heart. 

Luke kisses you, still so delicate that you wonder if he’s been body-snatched. If anything, your bleeding lip feels soothed against his. His hands cradle your face with no ferocity at all. It seems wrong. 

“How do you feel?” He asks after pulling away, dark eyes nebulous and wide. The night usually sharpens his features. Now, they’ve been hushed.

“Um, better,” you reply. 

He hums, laying a slow trail of kisses on your jaw. “Did you at least get the other guy?” He asks between kisses. “Like, did you hurt him?”

“Not really,” you divulge, wondering if you should feel shame. 

“Why?” He’s made his way to your neck now, nudging your jaw up so he can kiss behind your ear. 

“I’m not a fighter.” And, without warning, for a reason you will never, ever be able to explain, your tongue adds, “I’m a killer.”

Your own brows furrow. Luke pauses for a moment, but knocks his nose against your neck. “Guess one of us has to be.”

There’s no more fooling around. No snappy insults, no feverish kisses, no hunger to be satiated. Luke just checks you over a few more times, hides his med kit, and you both get up to sleep. But his hand wraps around your wrist, far less firm than when he dragged you here. “Stay in my bunk, heathen,” he offers. “Leave in the morning.”

You think you’re making a mistake when you agree, but it doesn’t feel like one. 

The next day, after you’ve left Luke’s bunk, rumours float around camp that Luke Castellan accidentally butted some Apollo kid in the face with his sword during training. Caused a bloody, broken nose. Luke was very sorry, apologized profusely. 

But you know, by the way he takes you behind the stables that night, that he didn’t mean a single damn word.

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz

rotten taglist: @thaliagracesgf

leave a pm/comment/ask if you'd like to be added to a taglist :)

[ravingraeven]

I hate spot/ify wra/pped day because its the only thing tumblr talks about and I fucking DESPISE Sp/otify. The money grubbiness of playing 4 back to back ads, a single song, and then at least 3 more back to back ads, with all of the ads being TWICE the volume of the actual fucking music that they play.

[cordeliawhohung]

In Limbo [Chapter 12]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

love notes

cw: anxiety (per usual)

wc: 3.8k

Simon stares at the bathtub. 

It hasn’t changed a bit over the last decade or so. No, it’s been a lifetime ago since he was thrown into this tub and its frigid water. Still has the same pale, cracked tiles with ancient peeling caulk. Perhaps the spout is a bit rusty — tiny speckles dot the iron like high impact splatters in old, oxidized blood brown. They sit and fester, like cancer growths on decaying lungs. 

He swallows and doesn’t appreciate how tight his throat is. Serpentine constrictions plague his neck as if he were a tasty mouse — he’s surprised he can even breathe. This feeling is so unfamiliar to him, something he’s removed himself from, and now he doesn’t know how to handle it. How to force it into submission. A fluffy cotton towel and fresh set of clothes rest on the corner of the counter next to the sink. It screams at him. Reminds him of what he came here to do. 

It’s only water. He’s bigger now. 

Five minutes, he promises himself — five minutes, and that’s it. 

In reality, it’s significantly less than that. Short hair is easy enough to wash and rinse, as is his body. A part of him is used to washing up quickly, in some terrified way. Less time under water, the better. Less time in here the better. Without any blood or grime to scrub away, he’s even more efficient. Soap, scrub, rinse, repeat. 

Soap, scrub, breathe — breathe. 

Then, the tiles start to whisper to him. Hushed echoes of the past bounce around at his feet, saturating the tub, filling it up until it’s at his knees. It’s all briney tears, spit, and viscous snot. Muffled cries that can’t quite leave his throat. Childish begging. The yearning for his mother. Fists gripping his shirt. 

An unceremonious squeak sounds as the water ceases. Fat drops dribble out of the showerhead as clawed fingers drag the curtain open, cold air rushing in to meet his exposed body. Old scars pucker and dance along his skin as goosebumps form, and he sucks in a breath through the brume wafting around him. Pale blue walls turn grey; like dead, rotting flesh. He swallows. His throat is still tight. 

Soft cotton rubs across his abrasive skin as he dries himself and quickly dresses. Moisture wicks from his skin and it feels like sweat instantly replaces it. It seeps from his skin. Anxiety brewing into something tangible and rotten. A thin fog obscures the mirror he attempts to look at, leaving only the shadow of him on its surface. Huffing, he rubs his bare hand across the glass. With such heavy nervosity gripping his throat, he half expects to see a scared child as the image of himself forms. Instead, it’s him — just him — his father’s eyes and all. 

A knock declares itself with a sharp crack, but Simon’s eyes don’t wander a bit. He stays, hands on either side of the counter, gripping the tile as if he’ll fall through the floor if he doesn’t. The only thing that prompts him to finally move, to crack the stone encasing his body, is the soft sound of anxious feet shuffling against the floor outside the room. 

When Simon opens the door, you’re certain you’ve upset him somehow. Furrowed brows and firm set lips make your grip tighten, nearly snapping your toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste in half. You look up at him like a wounded dog. Tail between your legs, lip caught in your teeth; you try to smile, but the malaise hanging around him is thick enough to suffocate even you. Then, something snaps. He melts. Eyes softening as his shoulders fall, lips parting to speak and then saying nothing. He looks you up and down, still dressed in your pajamas, and then smiles. 

“Am I takin’ too long?” he teases. 

“No, just wondering if I could squeeze in real quick to brush my teeth before breakfast,” you sheepishly admit. 

Warmth swirls around your body and envelops you as Simon steps to the side, letting you steal a spot at the counter. Though Simon smiles at you kindly, something feels wrong with that room. It festers like a bad wound — a dead body that wasn’t quite cleaned up. Spoiled viscera still soaking the floor for the flies to eat. You stare at your hands — at the way your fingers grip your toothpaste, trying to squeeze it out onto the brush — and you think for a moment, that maybe; maybe that rot comes from you. Sullying everything you touch. 

“Is that kid’s toothpaste?” 

Fluttering eyes land on Simon as you open your mouth to reply. Nothing comes up but a strained laugh and a half formed smile as you bashfully look down at your items. 

“Uh, yeah,” you nod. 

“I’ve got real toothpaste if ya want it,” he offers, shaking the tube. You stare at it, that classic minty green freshness flashing in reflective foil as he does. Cracks form in your smile, and you feel your stomach turn. Even the mere thought of it nauseates you. 

“No thanks I… erm… don’t like mint,” you admit. 

Your admittance feels like you’ve laid some hot sin before him, and you avert your gaze in favor of spreading a generous line of paste on your brush. Imitation fruitiness coats your tongue as you shove it into your mouth, and you grimace. You had forgotten to wet your brush. The texture is rough and sandy, yet you persist. 

Simon shrugs. “Suit yourself.” 

You try not to let him see the way your eyes water when he begins to brush his teeth. Abrasive mint overpowers your senses, seeping into your nose and churning in your stomach. It’s too strong. Offensive. 

You disguise your disgust with a cough. 

Breakfast is a quiet event. With the Christmas cheer dwindling into the back of everyone’s minds, the delectable meal of pancakes, sausage, and eggs is brought to the front. Mrs. Riley’s cooking truly is remarkable, and you can feel yourself missing her meals already. Bruce keeps you fed plenty well at work when he can, but there’s something different about eating in the presence of her warm gaze. Pale blue eyes flicker like sapphire flames as she glances back and forth between you and Simon. The look on her face isn’t lost on you. That quiet simper that stains her lips. 

It screams. Shouts at you. You are welcome here. 

“So, back to London, then?” Tommy asks as he wipes his mouth clean of crumbs. 

Humming, Simon nods. “Yeah. Work tomorrow night. Gonna get busy with the new year.” 

“Everythin’ going well then at the club?” Beth chirps. 

It’s a simple question — an innocent one. Still, it has Simon and Tommy sharing glances with one another. A million words are shared in an instant with one simple exchange. Tight lips, tighter fists; this is what happens with men like them. There is always bound to be some sort of dark secret they keep buried with the old versions of themselves; the versions they had to snuff out. 

“Well as it can,” Simon nods. 

Simon doesn’t completely beguile her. As far as anyone else is concerned, the club is doing fantastic. Only occasionally does he have to bloody his hands and toss out patrons who are too pissed for their own good. It’s an easy job. A simple one for a man of his talents. 

But there are names that lurk in the depths. Swarming in ruined water, waiting to capture their next prey; their next victim. Andrei. Though he’s been off having his fun with you and his family, the bastard’s name and face etch in the grey matter of his brain. It’s quite the balancing act, hunting a man who vanishes into smoke and mirrors all while trying not to concern you with the mess. His skin itches at the thought — that terrible memory of you. Doubled over, blacking out. 

What would have happened to you if he hadn't been there? 

Clearing his mind, he reaches for the plate of toast just as you do. Knuckles knocking, you retract, hand falling back into your lap. Had he not known better, he would have thought he electrocuted you.

“Sorry,” you mutter, awkward laugh expelling from your lungs in a pitiful huff. 

He looks at you, curled forward in your seat like a shriveled bug; always making yourself small. Always too afraid to take up the space you need. His hand persists, fingers gripping a golden slab of toast before placing it on the plate before you. Only then does he retrieve one for himself. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

Once plates are cleaned, it’s time for farewells. Simon refuses to let you assist in packing things up. Only lets you gather your items into your bag before he’s stealing it like a bandit and shoving it into his car. You don’t know why you even bother to do anything for yourself anymore. Not when you’ve got Simon around. 

“Gonna bring Chip home for Easter?” Tommy asks.

Once he’s managed to get your bag situated next to his in the backseat, Simon retreats, back straightening out and stretching as he slams the door shut. His brother leans against the trunk, arms crossed and shivering in the bitter Mancunian winter. For a moment, all Simon can do is shrug. 

“We’ll see,” he deadpans. 

“Oh, come off it,” Tommy rolls his eyes. “Sleepin’ in the same bed as her, gettin’ all cozy on the couch; takin’ the fuckin’ piss outta me sayin’ shit like that.” 

“What I do in my personal life doesn’t concern you,” Simon says nonchalantly, fingers shooing the man away. “Now up. Off my shit.” 

Tommy huffs, and it’s cynical. Boiling acrimony laces his words as he mumbles: “Used to think the same thing once. Next I knew I was nearly gettin’ gutted like a pig.” 

Flooding memories cause Simon’s eyes to gloss as they sear through his brain. Unpleasant bile eats at his esophagus as he recalls that day at his old job. A butcher’s shop. He would spend his life quartering swine, never once thinking about how similar humans are to pigs. Tender meat. The fiber of muscle and skin. A sharp blade sinks into flesh all the same, no matter what it’s called. The blood is just as warm. The gasps are just as cacophonous. 

Tommy’s warning is clear. It causes his diagram to freeze as dark eyes cut through the air to find you. Like he’s scared you’re already injured. Like he’s ruined you. His heart ceases to beat when he finds you on the porch, little Joseph wrapped around your leg. 

“Bye-Bye Auntie Chip!” he says, unabashed with his gaiety. 

Red hot embarrassment burns Beth’s face until her cheeks are the same shade as her hair, and within an instant she’s beckoning her son off of you. Just as always, you are kind. Smile and shake off the awkwardness with as much grace as you can muster. You assure Beth it’s fine — you’re not sure what you are, be you an aunt or something else, but the title fits snug. Like the first thing you’ve ever worn that fits properly. 

“It was lovely having you,” Mrs. Riley cuts in, easing the tension. She’s bundled herself up in a thick blanket draped over her shoulders like a shawl, and still she shivers so fiercely you swear she’ll turn blue. Despite the tremor, she reaches her arms out to you, welcoming and warm. 

You accept her embrace without a second thought, and for a moment things are quiet. Nothing rings. Nothing buzzes at the tip of your brain stem. There is only the quiet, and the scent of lavender. It leaves your body yearning in a way you haven’t felt for quite some time. A bitter tainted nostalgia that dances along your spine and weaves through your ribs — and yet it is welcoming all the same. 

“Thank you for having me,” you whisper. Your voice decays in your throat. Half formed and hardly ejected. 

Mrs. Riley steps back, but you can’t bring yourself to let go. You know you should. You’ve always had to let go of everything eventually, but your fingers flinch and your arms twitch, and you realize this time you can’t. Some sort of mawkish pain squeezes your heart and you fear you’ll crumble. Crack and splinter into dust that the December wind will carry away without so much as a second thought. But she doesn’t let you. Instead, she holds you together, scooping you up in her arms until you’re buried in her. Pressure builds and twists behind your eyes, and you ignore the way your throat begins to shred itself. 

“You’re always welcome here, dear.” 

They wave from the porch when you and Simon leave. A proper send off that has you smiling to yourself and aching for their presence again. An odd sort of solicitude shrouds your thoughts as you hit the motorway. It’s useless. Doesn’t announce why it’s there or why it ails you, and yet you’re stuck with it anyway. Perhaps it’s just that skin you were supposed to outgrow. The one that tightens and suffocates over time until you’re gasping for breath. 

Whatever it is, it carefully subsides as Simon settles in his seat, fingers reaching to turn the heat up. It’s impossible to pinpoint exactly why you’re stuck with such lassitude these last few days, but you only feel it worsen as the heat warms your skin. Leaning against him, nearly falling asleep on the couch, resting in his arms… he feels safe. Like you can rest and wake up knowing everything — including yourself — will be fine. 

He offers you his coat to use as a pillow just as your eyes begin to grow heavy. You don’t even argue anymore. Don’t say that you’ll be fine. That you can stay awake. Or that you can just rest your head on the jittery window. It feels nice accepting his help. Allowing him to dote after you; you think he’s the only person who can be kind to you without leaving a bad taste in your mouth. So you take it. Bunch it up and curl into a ball in the passenger's seat as the hum of the engine sings you to sleep. Tobacco and nicotine envelope your senses; it’s stronger on his coat than it is himself. Washed less often. Burrowing into the stitches. 

You sleep so well you don’t wake up until you reach the outskirts of London, and even then you’re only roused by Simon rubbing against your arm. Limbs extending, you stretch as much as you’re able to in the confines of the car as you rub at your face. The afternoon glow ignites the frost lining the railing that leads up to your apartment complex, but it looks like glitter on dull cement. A waste of something pretty. In whatever festive cheer your ancient, crabby landlord can muster, you notice a spindly wreath on the entrance. Perhaps it was his attempt at making that dilapidated building feel more homey — if anything, it feels more fake than ever. 

Simon opens your door with a smile as he helps you out of the car. He’s still on a mission to refuse to let you carry your bag, and he lets you lead the way inside the building as he trails behind you like a good dog. Creaky stairs announce their existence all the way up to the second floor, but their song is quickly drowned out by the violent vibrating of Simon’s phone. 

He plans on ignoring the call until he reads Johnny’s name as the ID. 

“Hello?” he answers. His voice catches you off guard, and he watches as your head snaps over your shoulder to look at him. He gives you a reassuring smile as he shakes his phone, and you smile back. 

“Got a hit on your dance partner.” 

Simon’s heart skips a beat. That deadly killer in him begins to surface — the one that’s cold and calculated; the one that can’t afford to let feelings get in the way. His face hardens as images of Andrei’s face flash across his mind, but he knows he can’t be too standoffish. Not when he’s with you. Not when you don’t know something’s wrong. 

“Workin’ through the holiday?” he asks, attempting to tease but it comes out too gruff. 

“My girl was workin’ a double. Had nothing better to do,” Johnny shrugs. “Aye, but listen. You remember Milena Romanova? Makarov’s financier?” 

Simon scoffs at the name, bitter bile rising in his mouth just as you both reach the second floor. “Plays well with Garrick’s mum, doesn’t she?” 

“If by playing well you mean threatens, sure,” Johnny deadpans. “Anyway, Kyle caught sight of her at some bullshit aristocratic party his mum was throwing on Christmas Eve and Andrei — whose last name is Nolan, I’ve learned — was there with her.” 

The tension in Simon’s jaw grows so tight he can hear the way the enamel in his teeth creaks with the pressure. It’s an easy conclusion to draw. One that has his chest growing tight. 

“Whatever mess Chip has got herself in… Riley, if Makarov’s got his sights on her-”

“I know,” Simon interrupts. It’s sharper than he intends, but he doesn’t apologize for it. 

Johnny sighs, breath crackling on the line. “One more thing… you’re really not gonna like this.” 

Somehow, Simon’s managed to fall behind you. Several paces back, he sees you standing at the entrance to your apartment, and you’re frozen. Eyes locked on the doorknob, wide as saucers, lips parted as if to say something and yet nothing comes out. 

“Security system here at the club caught some weird activity on cams yesterday,” Johnny continues. “Checked them out this morning and… well, it seems as if Andrei’s not the only one hanging around where he shouldn’t be. Marco was here, and it looked like he was looking for someone.” 

Your door is open. Slightly ajar, hardly even cracked, but it’s open. You swore you locked it when you left, but it doesn’t matter when there’s splintered wood on the ground at your feet. Simon’s hardware and new screws held up plenty fine; the door plate isn’t even bent. Still, it can only do so much when the wood it’s screwed into is as soft as butter. The air is wrong. Too thick. Like water. Like smoke. Like it’s someone else’s breath. 

Eyes welling with tears, you turn to look at Simon. His face is like stone. Hard set and rigid as he continues to hold the phone to his ear. The line has gone silent. His throat bobs as he swallows. 

“I gotta go.” 

The line dies. 

Neither of you speak when Simon gently pushes open the door. You hold your breath as he does. Quiet hysteria builds in your chest as you wait for an eternity to see what’s become of your home. The door creaks and whines as it falls open, hitting the wall, revealing the state of your apartment. 

Nothing is in place. Plastic plates and cups litter the ground in the kitchen along with old pots and pans. Cupboards and drawers are open, completely emptied of their contents, all dumped into a pile on the floor as if setting up a pyre. The rubbish bin is knocked on its side. Old garbage is strewn about, staining the faux tile as nameless black bugs enjoy the rot.

As the two of you cautiously press inside, you catch sight of the way your clothes hang halfway out of your dresser. Plastic hangers lay shattered outside your tiny closet. The bathroom light is on, and when you meander inside, you find the mirror is shattered. Your reflection is warped. Wrong. And still, it perfectly reflects that terror. A drop of blood stains the sink. It’s old. Hagriding. Clotted. Hardened. You stare at it, and it screams back at you that you have made a very grave mistake.

There isn’t an inch of your apartment that Simon leaves unchecked. Hackles raised, he turns every corner with care, eyes darting around like an animal ready to strike. But there is nothing. Your flat has always been too small to properly house yourself, let alone hide away anyone that would cause harm. There is no one. No Andrei. No Makarov. 

No Marco. 

You stand in the midst of your home like a lost child, spinning in circles as you take everything in. Wide eyes, scanning like a hawk, or some clever fox finding her way out of some precarious situation. Trepidation coils around your chest as you attempt to hold back sobs, but your diagram shudders despite your efforts. You are both overcome with terror and yet so devoid of emotion, because in some way, you know you deserve this. 

You brought this on yourself. 

“Fuck,” you curse, hand slapping over your trembling lip. 

Simon’s ears perk at your voice. Heavy feet crush rubbish and clothes as he reaches for you. He’s careful, as if trying to calm a spooked horse. Warm hands bleed through your skin as he holds you steady, but you don’t look at him. All you can do is continue to take in the mess around you. 

“It’s gonna be alright. We’ll get this sorted, I promise,” he assures you. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you snap. 

Hands brush against his chest as you push yourself away from him, a hyperventilated sob rattling your throat in the process. You nearly trip on a cup as you stumble away from Simon, and you press the heels of your hands into your eyes. 

“How the fuck could I forget. I’ve… never… fuck,” you mumble. 

Simon says your name, but you refuse to hear it. Utterly disconsolate, you continue running away, feet meandering throughout your room as if you’re in a drunken stupor. He lets you. Watching you carefully as the emotions overwhelm you, lets you feel what you need to feel as you stare at the crumbled remains of your life. 

The only thing that isn’t ruined is your bed. 

You freeze. It’s perfect. Pillows fluffed. Blankets neatly pressed along the mattress. It looks professionally done with a folded lip at the top for ease of grabbing. Spotless — it almost looks lovingly done. 

You don’t remember making your bed before you left. 

Careful feet approach the furniture as your nerves begin to fry. You feel your mind begin to shut down. There’s no fear or anxiety or anger — there’s just you and your shell. You’re so far underneath the waves that there’s no use in screaming for help. All you can do is let the tide carry you forward. 

A pristine envelope sits quiet and docile on top of your blanket. It’s unmarked, but there is no mistaking who it belongs to. Simon slowly approaches from behind, hands outstretched, requesting that you hand it over to him, but you refuse. Shouldering him away, your quivering fingers can hardly undo the seal. It tears. Shreds like cloth. You retrieve the note inside. 

Missed you on the 25th. Will collect late fee on the 28th. You know better than to call the police. Don’t stand me up this time.

-M

[cupidsdolll]

The Feeling Came Late

Chapter One: When You’re Young, They Assume You Know Nothing

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter 1/? (wc: 3.3k)

- - - - - -

Y/N's always loved mornings, she loves being able to wake and watch the sun rise. She loves being able to listen to nature's song, the birds chirping, the different buzzing and humming of the insects and the various sounds of all the animals that stay around her house. She always wakes with a bright smile on her face and enthusiasm to start her day, she'll turn on her favorite playlist and sing along as she begins to start her day.

Y/N didn’t love this morning though, it started out differently than her normal morning started. It was different because she had stayed up much later than she should have trying to get some last minute studying in for a pop quiz, which caused her to wake with a slight frown and a loud huff as she shuts off the blaring beep coming from her alarm clock.

"I get it, I'm up. Now shut up." She mumbles as she tiredly rubs her eyes and sits up; she grabs the various sheets of paper strewn across the bottom half of her bed and stacks them as neatly as she can in a hurry on the wooden nightstand next to her bed. She sighs as she stretches her arms over her head and leans back some, feeling only slightly better as she feels her body loosening up.

She makes her bed, tucking the thick blanket underneath all of her pillows and making sure there's no wrinkles anywhere before grabbing her phone and clicking on the 'Music' app and clicking her morning playlist. She smiles as her favorite song begins to play as she walks over to her closet to pick out her outfit for the day. After several minutes of aimlessly searching through her clothes she settles on a knitted sweater, a brown tartan skirt, some white open toe sandals and a white tote bag.

She heads into her en suite bathroom and sets her outfit on the gray granite countertops before turning on the faucet and letting the water warm up. She hums along to the current song playing as she splashes the warm water on her face and dries her face slightly. She grabs her face wash and begins to do her daily morning routine, the small feeling of normalcy making her feel better already.

Once she's dressed, done her makeup and in a somewhat better mood, she heads into the kitchen while singing along to another one of her favorite songs and begins to grab a banana and some leftover oatmeal from the fridge. Making her way to the small dining room table, she sighs happily and sets the oatmeal down and begins to peel the banana and break it into small uneven pieces to eat in her oatmeal.

After eating everything, she washes the bowl and sits in the dish rack placed next to the sink and grabs her purse and her phone, putting all her essentials in the bag and walking to the front door. Smiling as she shuts off the living room light and closes the door behind her, she begins to make her way to the front of her apartment complex and towards the small bike rack, filled with various bikes of all sizes and colors.

- - - -

It takes her roughly less than twenty minutes when she reaches her university and sighs as she hops off her bike and ties it to the bike rack in front of her school. As she makes her way into the school, she stops as she notices a few new flowers on the side of the steps. As she makes her way over, she can feel her smile growing, the flowers are absolutely beautiful. They're a beautiful shade of pink carnations, the bright color popping against the stark bricks of the stairs and she quickly takes her phone as she snaps a picture of them.

"Leave it to the professionals, and move out my way." She hears a voice coming from somewhere behind her, she recognizes this voice. She could pick it out in a crowd and not because she likes it, but because it’s one of the only ones that can upset her. This voice throws out insults and mocks her, jeers at her for seemingly no reason, the one voice that she’ll never understand why it hates her so much.

She turns around with a frown already set on her face at the voice behind her. His long brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, a cotton white t-shirt paired with a pair of light wash denim jeans and a black leather jacket. His signature smirk is plastered on his face as two of his friends laugh and pat him on the back, he’s making his way towards her. For as long as she can remember she and Harry have been at each other's throats or more like he's been dead set on giving her absolute hell since the end of their high school while she ignores him.

"Shouldn't you be getting to class anyways, miss goody two shoes?" He asks and snickers as he purposely bumps into her shoulder as he passes as if there’s not plenty of room for him to walk, her frown deepens as she messes with her bag and makes her way to the entrance door. Just before she opens the door, she turns around and gives him a glare, a small smile slowly beginning to take over the frown.

"Oh you’re one to talk, Styles. At least, I’m not the one failing English! " She yells back before quickly walking in the door and heading to her first class of the day.

While she loves her classes, loves interacting with the teacher and adding her input in group discussions, the lack of her normal amount of sleep makes her brain unfocused and easily distracted. Her eyes flit across the room with every sound that occurs, she can't seem to sit still. She's fidgety, her hands play with the pen in her hands as if she's not supposed to be taking notes right now. She wishes she could be focused enough to take even the bare minimum of the notes on the board, she can't stay focused on anything for long before her attention is grabbed by something new.

Time seems to fly as she looks down at her bare page in the notebook; nothing written on it beside the title of her notes and she sighs. Quietly she leans over and asks the girl behind her if she can take a picture of her notes after class, she thanks her when the girl nods before going back to writing on her own paper.

A knock on the door grabs her attention as well as the sound of her fellow classmates whispering amongst each other, the scratching of the pencil of the girl next to her, and she watches the teacher make her way to the door. The clicking of her heels echo in the small classroom and finally her hand reaches for the door knob, the teacher begins to twist it and pull the door open. She can hear him before she sees him, his voice carrying through as he speaks.

"Mornin' Liz. How's my favorite girl?" She watches as the teacher rolls her eyes and swats his arm as he goes to give her a hug.

"You're late Mr. Styles. Have a seat." She says as she makes her way back to her desk and Harry chuckles as he opens the door fully, his emerald eyes scanning the room.

The only available seat is next to Y/N and he scowls. Briskly walking over to someone at the table furthest from her and asking to switch seats quietly, they shake their head and he sighs. He walks over to another table and asks to switch and in response he gets another no. Frowning, he walks over to Y/N's table and grabs the chair and moves it as far away as he can, mumbling a few words under his breath as he sits down.

Not bothering to pay attention, he lays his head down on the desk and closes his eyes. Allowing the outside noise to become faint murmurs, he bounces his leg quickly as he begins to drift to sleep.

"Can you stop please? You're shaking the table?" He huffs and rolls his eyes as he lifts his head.

"S'not bothering you." He says and she shakes her head gently.

"I'm trying to take notes." He scoffs as she points to her notebook.

"That doesn’t have shit to do with me though, does it? Gotta make sure you pass the exams, right? M'surprised you don't have it all memorized." He says dryly and lays his head back down. He can hear her sigh and the crinkling of the paper as she moves over some towards the opposite end of the table. He snickers softly to himself before closing his eyes once more.

He wakes up to the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder, it's soft, small and gentle as it shakes him. He groans as he sits up and stretches his arms over his head. When he turns he sees her standing next to him, her side of the desk cleaned up and the room’s silent.

"The fuck do you want?" He mumbles and frowns, he's never been on to be happy whenever he wakes up, especially grumpy because it’s her waking him up.

"Class is over, just figured you'd want to head wherever you need to go." She says, her voice soft and sweet and he frowns once more.

"Sure." He stands up and moves the chair back to its original position. He barely catches the sight of a small frown etched on her face before she leaves, he waits a couple of minutes before he's heading out the door and onto his next class. He doesn't care that she's upset, she lives in her own world and doesn't seem to grasp the fact that not everyone's as nice as she is or was raised with such manners, it's not his problem.

On the way to his next class, he hears his name being yelled from behind him. He turns around and sees the principal yelling and jogging his way.

"Harry! A moment please?!" He yells and Harry frowns. He knows what he wants to talk about, it can only mean one of two things, it's either his failed midterm or be found out that it's him graffitiing the various parts of the school walls and parking lots. He doubts that he knows about the graffitiing so it has to be the exam, and he just doesn’t want to talk about the exam with him at this point.

He shakes his head as he begins to walk opposite of the voice calling his name. He's never been one to care about time and his grades so he waits until the last minute and does just enough work for him to be at a D level.

"Harry Styles!" The voice booms and he huffs before turning around and grumpily begins the short trek to the principal.

"Yeah?" He says and crosses his arms, the principal nods shortly before asking Harry to follow him.

As Harry follows the older man into his office, he grumbles the whole time about how unfair and stupid all of this is. Passing by all the lockers and the small gaggle of students littering the halls as he walks, head held high and confidence is his walk because he can't be seen being embarrassed. It'd be the end of the world if that were to happen, not that he’s embarrassed about this in any way. He’s not.

When the principal opens the tall wooden door leading to his office, he steps aside to let Harry in and smiles as Harry mumbles a rough thank you in response. Harry immediately frowns when he sees the figure sitting in a chair in front of the desk, her fingers messing with her bag and her eyes seeming to stare a hole in the desk. Sitting behind his dark oak desk and opening up his laptop, the sound of clicking filling the room as he types.

"So, Harry, you know why I brought you here?" The older man asks and Harry nods.

"Think so, s'about the midterm right? And if so, I have some words. Knapick's crazy if she thinks that test was anywhere near suitable to give to us. I suggest you look into that." Harry says and the principal shakes his head, Y/N only lets out a soft scoff as if she doesn’t believe him.

The principal leans back and adjusts his glasses as he stares at Harry.

"No, Harry. It's just you I believe. Almost everyone else passed the exam with at least a C average if not better." Harry frowns at that and shakes his head.

"No way, the test is rigged I tell you. I knew Knapick never liked me. She's trying to fail me Oscar."

"No, you barely did effort. And if you wanna be able to graduate on time, I suggest you get a tutor." The principal says and Harry's frown deepens.

"No way."

"Yes, Harry. I'm serious. I'm trying to help. I can give you a list of our best tutors in the school but it’d be pointless on both of our parts, we both know you won’t take this seriously or you’ll just find a way to get them to give you the answers. I don’t want you wasting their time.

Harry shakes his head furiously, the ponytail slowly beginning to slip from the elastic's hold causing a few of his curls to frame his face.

"It's either you get the help you need or you're gonna be repeating, and I know you don’t want to ruin your little reputation by having to repeat." Harry huffs and rolls his eyes once more.

“I guess.” Harry says and the principal nods.

“Great! That’s where you come in Y/N. I know you’re real patient and won't fall for your game, Styles."

"No game. I just have the charm the ladies want, Oscar." Harry says and smirks - only briefly though, he absolutely hates the idea of spending any time with her; just being here in the same room for this short period of time is excruciating and annoying.

"But I don't want her, give me someone else."

"I'll see what I can do but I think she would be best. She’s already here, I don’t want to have to waste her time and I'm sure she works fast."

Y/N only sighs, it’s quiet and barely noticeable if Harry wasn’t already trying to stare a hole into her head.

“I can tutor him, sir. Only if he wants me to, which we all know he doesn’t.” She says and Harry huffs obnoxiously loud as he uncrosses his arms.

"She makes me want to tug my hair out." Y/N laughs to herself at this and Harry frowns again, he didn’t say anything funny.

"I’m sure she knows that. Have a good day Harry." Harry grumpily walks out of the office as fast as he can, eager to get away from her and her annoying voice, her eagerness to help, her unwavering kindness, and heads to his next class. He hears her calling after him, he doesn’t care about whatever she has to say. He hates the fact that he has to spend time with her, listen to her annoying voice and that he has to learn from her. He’s already late of course so once he’s out of the office and doesn’t have to worry about her chasing him down he slows down, walks slowly because quite frankly he doesn’t care about this class. His thoughts become a chant of how much Y/N annoys him and why she has to be so smart. If he had to be paired with her, he'd make it the worst tutor session ever. He's really gonna make her life hell, and he’s really gonna have the best time doing so.

Harry doesn’t share many classes with Y/N thankfully, but he absolutely loathes the few classes he does share with her. He hates watching her take notes in her stupid notebook, and listening to her answer any questions the teacher has and adding her own input or asking a question about whatever the teacher is talking about. When he walks into his next class, about ten minutes late because of his purposefully slow walking and sees her sitting in the front row with her notebook about and all of her colored pens and pencil laid onto her desk he immediately frowns.

Her presence just irritates him to no end, having to watch her be on top of her game all the time just doesn’t make sense to him. He doesn’t get how she’s able to do it all without wavering or failing. Either way, it just fucking irritates him. He walks to his seat towards the middle, the teacher refuses to let him sit in the back because he won’t do anything other than be on his phone. He can feel her gaze on him which only frustrates him more so he stares straight ahead, purposefully ignoring her. There’s nothing for them to talk about anymore, he just needs to get what he needs from her with no other complications or distractions.

The class drags by slowly and Harry still can't seem to shake the feeling of her eyes on him, so he just lays his head onto his desk in hopes that it’ll make the time go by faster. He can’t help but to bounce his leg as the teacher drones on about something related to History he thinks, and quite frankly he just doesn’t care. He just wants to be done, to be out of the room. He knows that he could easily just walk out and be done with this class for the day, but that won’t do him any good. He’s going to have to come back and grab his assignments if he’s assigned any and he’s going to have to come back tomorrow and suffer through.

Finally the teacher dismisses the class for the day and Harry’s one of the first ones out, or he would be one of the first one’s out if Y/N hadn’t called his name and caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder. He jerks it off roughly and turns around.

“Leave me alone. It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to deal with you for God knows how long with these stupid tutoring sessions, make both of lives easier and just fucking write down the answers to anything and give it to me.” He says, ready for this encounter to be over with. She shakes her head firmly, a frown beginning to form on her face.

“I agreed to tutor you, I’m not just going to give out the answers. I need your number so I can communicate with you,” She says with a roll of her eyes and Harry can’t help but to feel a small sense of pride and enjoyment at irritating her, to be the reason she frowns and rolls her eyes.

“You don’t need my number, just give me the answers and all of this will be done and over with. I’m not giving it to you anyways.” He says with a huff, here she goes again wanting to fix him. She wants to help him and allows her kindness to seep through even though he’s the last one she should be treating with kindness, he doesn’t want her kindness. She huffs once again and Harry can only smile briefly before he remembers why they’re even having a conversation to begin with.

“Fine, be stubborn if you want to. I’m not going to allow you to stress me out.” She says and walks past him, and because he takes joy in annoying her he makes sure to walk along with her only to bump into her before laughing and turning around.

He’s definitely going to have a lot of fun with this.

[wtfsteveharrington]

love love love your writing, could you do something with luca? maybe reader gets hurt in the kitchen and he has to help her

a/n: thank you so much :’) i went a different kitchen than you meant probably but i hope u like <33

warning!! contains non-graphic mentions of accidental cuts, blood, and a physical injury.

The apartment is peaceful. Candles lit, soft music playing from a playlist you both curate, and it was pretty enough outside to leave the windows cracked open for a breeze.

You’re turning around with a stack of t-shirt’s in your arms, only half paying attention when you feel yourself bump into something that promptly shatters to the ground and disrupts the peaceful environment.

“Shit!” You both echo at the same time from being startled.

Luca’s wrapping a towel around his hand, leaving everything in the kitchen behind as he hunts you down. “Darling? What happened? Are you alright?” He took just enough time to realize that the knife had gotten him when he jumped, acknowledged he was alright, and quickly went to check on you. You’d always come on the top of his priority list.

You’re standing in a pile of glass, a deep set frown on your lips as you look around at mess made by a broken vase. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I was trying to put away our laundry and forgot I moved the vase to the edge of the dresser earlier when we were cleaning. Just caught the corner and it fell.”

Looking up at him with a little pout, “I’m sor-“

You’ve honed in on his towel wrapped hand, the hint of blood soaking through the thin material.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely fucked my hand.” He gives you some sort of ‘What can you do’ look while shrugging his shoulders. Luca has had his fair share of kitchen incidents and was much more accustom to injuries. It was deep enough to need stitches, just needed to be rinsed and bandaged.

You, however? Very much not used to seeing your boyfriend like this.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to grab his wrist, taking a peek under the towel and wincing. “Luca!” He doesn’t have time to respond before you’re dragging him back into the kitchen to get him taken care of.

You’re standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the sink, trying to fight the urge to panic at the sight of him injured due to a mistake you made. He can see the way your face is all twisted up with concern and he hates it.

“M’alright… Done much worse to myself before. Won’t even leave a scar.” A scar? You frown more as you make sure the cut is clean and step back to go fish out the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“Stay put, please.”

Luca, a man, stands there as he’s told but does admire the sway of your ass as you barrel away. He then gets to admire the swell of your cleavage under your top and - “Shit!” He hissed out as you’re grabbing his hand again to apply a bit of ointment.

“Shoulda paid less attention to my boobs and you would have seen this coming.” You tease while trying so hard to keep the mood as light as you can muster. There was still a course of guilt running through your veins as you continue patching him up.

“I truly am fine, you know? Comes with the job territory. Won’t be the last time I get cut.” He leans in to press a tender kiss to your head and you gravitate towards the touch. You know it’s not a life or death situation but between being embarrassed over both breaking the vase and indirectly injuring Luca you were a little solemn to say the least.

“I know, just hate I caused this.” The bandaid is smoothed over his skin and you give it another once over before bringing it to your lips, kissing over the bandaid. Luca allows you to continue fretting over the injury for a moment until he’s moving his hand to cup your jaw and make look up at him.

“It was an accident, no?” You both nod. “Exactly… I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re both fine. Don’t want you beating yourself up over this.”

You take a deep breath and allow his words to sink in for a moment before nodding once again. Eyes flickering up to his before you lean in and press a tender kiss to his lips. “M’sorry you got hurt…” Another kiss. “Was kinda hot how well you handled it though.”

Luca laughs against your mouth, a wide grin on his features as he feels your anxiety finally start to settle. He steals one more kiss before stepping back to acknowledge the state of the kitchen, giving your waist a squeeze before he goes.

He glances over the cutting board that was the culprit of injury and the food that started to burn while he was tended to. Shrugging his shoulders, turning to smirk at you with pure love and devotion in his eyes.

“Fuck it, let’s go have a date night out instead.”

A hand claps against the flesh of your ass as he passes you to go get changed.

[lcriedlastnight]

Hi :)

Is this the request? :

Friends to lovers with Lando and him being absolutely love sick, mesmerised with reader and one time it's just them two together and he says "For my sanity, we should start dating."

anon. i am literally in love with you. thank you soooooo much. mwah!!

tw: fem! reader, swears, lando’s first win, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.6k

the paddock was bustling, the heat was sweltering. after lando's horrible sprint race, everyone on his team was desperate to make today's race go well. they'd gotten the brit his favourite pre-race snack, given him extra blankets and pillows for his drivers room couch, they'd even gotten oscar to agree to not complain about how loud lando's pre- race playlist was! but the one thing (person) that could actually calm lando down and get him into the racing mindset was nowhere to be seen.

you'd been in the cafeteria, lando begging you to come to states for this race, he had told you that there was a feeling in his gut that this race was going to be great. so you braved the miami heat, just for him. just like each and every time you came to a race. you did actually believe that this race would be special, you shared that gut feeling with lando, so you'd begged your boss for time off and told your lecturer that it was a family members wedding in miami that you just found out you were invited to. you didn't really try hard on the excuse for your lecturer, knowing he didn't care less if you were there or not, just as long as you had submitted all the assignments that were due.

so that's why you were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, with your phone on do not disturb and you headphones in blasting your studying playlist in your ears, typing away on your computer. you didn't know that everyone was looking for you. it's not like you were that well hidden anyways, you were just sitting in the corner of the cafeteria and the motor home wasn't that big. it certainly wasn't big enough to lose someone when there was ten plus people searching for them.

you don't notice one of lando's engineers sitting at the opposite side of the table, as you try your best to finish your essay before the race starts. you do, however feel about seven light taps on the table that makes you pull your eyes from the laptop screen in front of you. you pull your left ear free from the music coming through your headphones.

"hi?" you say, looking at the man. you didn't know who he was, just that he was an engineer.

"everyone is looking for you." he tells you, a little frantic. this worries you.

"what? why? what's wrong?" you ask him, not sure if he knew what was wrong or if he was just the messenger.

"dunno." well that answers that. "lando's been asking for you for the past hour and a half. he's been saying it's urgent." your eyebrows raise in concern. you quickly close your laptop and slide your headphone around your neck. you slip out the chair, thanking the engineer, and heading to lando's driver room.

you knock a few times before just opening the door. the sight you see almost makes you burst out laughing. lando is in his fireproofs, you can see the peak of papaya from underneath the multiple blankets on top of him. there must be about seven on top of him, all of them varying in colour and patterns. lando was practically buried under the weight of them all, stuck to the couch. oscar stood at one end of the couch, you suppose he was the one to blame for this, although this could be the work of lando himself. either way you didn't really know what this was supposed achieve.

"what is going on?" you ask after assessing the situation they had both gotten lando into. "i'm really confused right now." you smile though, the scene still hilarious looking.

"we couldn't find you anywhere and lando needed you." oscar explains, although all it does is leave you more confused than when you first walked in. in what way were you the same as seven blankets?

"right. makes sense. seeing as i am seven blankets. i can see how this would help." you tease them, sarcasm dripping from your words as you lay your laptop, phone and headphones on the nearby table.

oscar rolls his eyes, while yours flit to lando who stays quiet to let oscar explain. you swear you could see a hint of red on his cheeks but you don't get enough time to see if it actually is, in fact blush because oscar is talking again and stealing your attention.

"well he told me that to get in the 'racing mindset' he gets you to lay on top of him and rest all of your weight on top of him so i thought putting blankets on top of him would simulate you laying on top of him!" oscar grins, like his idea is actually a good one. you feel like groaning at his dumbness. a part of you is taken aback that lando had told oscar about what he called his 'pre-race ritutal'.

"right well i'm here now, so why don't you go do your own race prep while i sort out whatever is going on here?" you suggest to oscar, he can tell it's not a suggestion though. so he does what he's told, wishing lando good luck on the track but before he closes the door behind him he whispers to you "and you think he doesn't like you like that? he quite literally needs you to lay on top of him to calm him down". you just sigh and walk over to the driver, once oscar is finally gone.

"what are you doing, stupid boy?" you ask, sitting by his feet on the couch. lando only staring back in response. you stare back until he responds.

"missed you?" he offers. this time you can't hold back your laugh. if your eyes were closed from the laughter you would see the way lando's light up at the sound of your laugh. the pride he felt to the one who made you laugh, it was better than any other feeling. once your laughter stops, you pull back the blankets. they actually didn't weigh much at all, which makes you wonder why lando was acting as if he was trapped under them.

"it's like oscar said, i needed you and literally no one could find you so i went to him for help. then he suggested that and i just went along with it." lando helps shrug off the blankets as he properly explains. the brunette ends up sitting next to you, eyes looking into yours.

it's your turn to explain. "i was trying to finish my essay before the race started, seeing as i won't have time tonight. we'll hopefully be going out afterwards." you explain your 'dissapearance’.

lando nod and hums then checks his phone, that was hidden in between blanket layers. it's almost time for him to go out to the garage and he's literally had no time with you at all. how was he supposed to race in these conditions?

"that's alright, love. guess we just need to make up for lost time right now." lando states, his hands grabbing yours and pulling you on top of him. lando's breaths instantly even out. you didn't know if he was panicking and getting in his head about the race or what it was, all you knew was that you laying on top of him, putting all of your weight on him was helping. and that's all you really wanted.

lando's breaths hit you neck at you run your fingers across the bridge of his nose. usually when you guys would do this before races, you would run your fingers through his hair, but his latest injury on the bridge of his nose made you want to run your fingers across his cut lightly. lando shudders but relaxes once your light movements continue. you both stay in that position until an alarm goes off on your phone, signalling at lando needs to be at the garage in five minutes (you always set two alarms because there's no way you're getting lando out of here on time). with the way lando jumps you think he must have been seconds away from falling asleep. he confirms it by muttering "stupid fucking alarm." as grumpily as ever.

"right lan, let's get you moving." you say reluctant as you move off of him. he whines like a child and his arms cling onto your hips to try and stop you. he uses no force so you stand up easily.

"for the sake of my sanity, we should start dating." lando mutters, if it was a decibel quieter, you don't think you would've hear him. but you did. you don't think it was meant for your ears, either judging by the drivers reaction to your "what?".

you can see the cogs turning in his mind, does he try and wrangle himself out of this or does he stand his ground and admit his feelings. he thinks for a second.

"i like you. you're driving me insane. please can i at least take you out on a date?" lando is not above begging, he will literally fall to his knees if it means you will accept his offer. before you can, the alarm goes off on your phone.

you smirk at him, an idea popping into your head. "win today and we'll go out on tuesday." you tell him. lando groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. "if i do you have to give me a winners kiss." lando bargains.

"deal".

safe to say, you never thought that yours and lando's first kiss would be on the parc ferme, after he's just won his first face. nor did you think you would have to be getting ready for a date with him two days later. safe to say that essay was not getting submitted on time.