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bluetimeombre · 8 months

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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

Part 2 soon…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first, was the worst...

You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.

But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.

And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.

Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.

Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.

You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.

Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.

Just to show him you could.

'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.

You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'

It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.

It was the last time you'd feel your wings.

The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.

You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.

All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.

Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.

You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.

The gates opened with a sickening clash.

One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'

You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.

'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'

Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.

Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'

'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'

You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.

That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'

'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'

You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.

The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'

That's when they started hacking at your wings.

Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.

Not your whole life.

Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.

Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.

'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'

They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.

Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.

The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.

At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.

'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'

Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.

'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'

Azriel.

You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.

You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.

'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'

You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.

You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.

'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.

You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.

'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.

Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.

No, this would destroy you.

'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'

Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'

Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'

You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.

And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.

Mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.

Your wings.

Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.

Gone, all gone.

Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.

'You're awake, thank the couldron.'

It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.

How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.

But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.

'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.

He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'

In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.

'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.

'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.

'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.

'Get out,' you mumbled.

The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'

'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.

Be better than your mate being disgusted.

'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.

'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.

'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'

Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.

Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.

You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.

'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.

'Give her time,' said Rhys.

The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.

'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.

Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.

And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.

There was a knock, rattling the door.

'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'

Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.

He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.

'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.

Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.

Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.

You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.

It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.

Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.

Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.

Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.

It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.

You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.

Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.

And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.

You cry. You sob. You scream.

The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.

A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.

You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.

Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.

Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.

He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.

When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.

It was always you.

Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.

His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.

Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.

He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.

He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.

You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.

Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.

'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.

'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.

'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.

Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’

'I'm not on the ledge.'

'You're too close for my liking.'

'Leave if you don't like it.'

'Don't do this,' he said.

'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.

'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.

‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’

He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.

'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'

Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.

His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.

You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Fifty-two years later...

When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.

You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.

It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.

Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.

Still, you had not told him he was your mate.

Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.

Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.

But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.

Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.

Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.

'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.

Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.

'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'

The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.

'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.

But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.

If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.

Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.

Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'

He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.

He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.

You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.

When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.

Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.

Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.

'Cassian.'

His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'

He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'

Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.

Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.

'Ow!'

'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.

You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...

Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.

Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.

And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.

He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.

His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.

You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.

Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.

Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.

Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.

'Azriel?' you called.

There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.

You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'

He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'

You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.

His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'

You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'

You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?

'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'

'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'

His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'

You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'

He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'

Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.

Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'

'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.

Azriel smiled and stayed the night.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The third time he almost lost you, broke him...

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

#acotar #azriel #cassian #rhysand #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #tamlin #lucien vanserra #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #cassian x reader #books and reading #booktok #angst #azriel x cassian x reader

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sashi-ya · 4 months

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𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑶𝑴 「 part 1 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: yes! first Kaiju no. 8 fic ever! idk how many of you would like to read from Kaiju but I've been obsessed with it lately, and especially with Soshiro. it's pretty short and wrote it cause I needed to think of other things after studying. So yeah, enjoy! tw: there aren't "sex" scenes, however mdni as it has suggestive language, nudity and mature content. (thank god for this manga having almost every character above 25!). Pretty much inspired on Soshi's backstory from Kaiju no 8 side B, so expect fluff too. what happened on the following days? more Soshiro smut, here. masterlist

“I can’t take the suit off” you murmur, trying to lower the front zipper. The mission took much more than what you expected, and the kaiju stench is making you nauseous.

For the time being, most of your squad members have already jumped into the showers. But you, still trying to get out of the suit, haven’t.

“I… this shit… why is it not working?” you protest, forcing the zipper more and more, but it hasn’t been able to go down past the beginning of your chest.

You try to look for the intercom; pressing it to call the Operations leader Konomi, will surely help you out with the captive suit. But, you can’t find it. Did you lose the little intercom before coming back to the base? Or did it fell around there?

Everything seems to be flaunting tonight. It’s late, you are tired. You’ve been hit several times by different Kaiju, but none of them -luckily- was able to injure you.

However, you begin to feel an incredible -and uncontrollable- heat coming from the suit itself and reaching the inner layers of your skin and organs.

You don’t panic. At first.

You definitely panic two minutes later, when the heat is unbearable and the pain in such restrictive jail is almost deadly.

“Help…” you whine, not loud enough to be heard by anyone else. Or at least, definitely not enough to be listened over the lively chattering coming from the showers.

But it hurts, as much as the acid of those despicable monsters when their core explode. And it really begins to interfere with your breathing, and thus, with your consciousness.

“Help me… I’m burning…” you scream louder this time. But no one comes, and your knees hit the ground in pain.

Tears flood up your eyes, your nails aren’t enough to tear the thick skin of Izumo Techs’ innovative suit. No guns are enough, probably, even if you had the chance to go grab yours… it wouldn’t be useful.

You pray, you wish for someone to cut that trap into pieces.

“H- help… me…” “WHAT IS IT?!”

In between blurred eyes and painful frown, you device an angel of slanted eyes and deep purple hair.

“I… the suit… it’s boiling… it’s overheating… I can’t take it off” you grasp a little bit of air and try to communicate -effectively- the reason of your suffering.

“Stay quiet” he commands, and you comply. There is nothing you wouldn’t do to go against his orders.

An immediate relief comes with enough cuts that you couldn’t even see. Completely naked, completely soaked in sweat. There you lay, panting, with still stings of pain reverberating all over your skin.

“Come here” he says, ripping the remaining pieces off the suit still ferally attached to your burning skin. And as feral as the suit is, the feral his hands are when ripping its pieces away.

“Vice-captain Hoshina… th-thank you…” you cry, completely unaware of your impure show off.

His eyes open widely, and for the first time you see the beautiful bloody irises he usually keeps hidden away. But his expression is not jovial, nor even neutral. He is by far worried.

Probably for the first time in ages, the blades have fallen to the ground and with those same hands he saved your life he hurries to carry you to the men’s showers.

At the speed of light, cold water begins to gush from the showerheads. Your body feels instant relief; so much there is even some vapor coming from your skin.

As it bathes you, it also bathes him. Completely dressed, Soshiro gets drenched in the same water as you. And, as his hair becomes wet, one of his hands moves it out of his face, revealing his façade completely.

Your arms hang from his shoulders into his back. Your knees, fight to keep you standing up even if the one actually holding you up is no other than him.

Soshiro is completely mute, and so do you. There is, maybe, no need to speak.

He lets his jacket slide through his shoulders to finally fall into the shower’s floor. The compressive shirt underneath gets also wet, becoming something like a second skin of him. Showing off the hours of training, and why he is the vice-captain of your division.

Immorally, you that were on the brink of death a couple of minutes ago, now feel in heaven because of your saviour. Because of your blades wielding hero.

Once again, he was able to save a life with those thinly cut masses of iron.

His hand, with soft but still steady pace, clean something off your back. And for that your breasts are pressed against his chest. You can see his neck from the side, as he tries to take a deeper look at your shoulder blades. You inhale the scent of his skin, a mix of sweat from the last battle and manly hints of fresh perfume.

“You got them almost engraved on your skin. What the fuck? The suits aren’t supposed to hurt you this way” he whispers, close to your ear. “We should go to the medical pavilion, now” he adds.

You nod, feeling how everything has started to spin around you and your stamina decreases more and more.

“Thank you, Soshi- Hoshina fuku Taichou…” you babble, realizing your faces are closer that what they should ever be and your arms and his are interlocked pretty strongly to the other’s body.

He takes a deep breath through his tiny nose, looking at you with lazy eyes. Just a tiny line of red is visible, as tiny as the opening of his lips that let prominent fangs barely flash.

Soshiro’s chest goes up and down, harder every time. His muscles tense more and more, especially the ones on his neck. His hug gets even tighter, pulling you so closer that ever before.

“It’s… ok…” he barely words; something is affecting that man… and it’s probably all your body, all your still warm skin being his for at least a couple of minutes, the way your lips have become red and pouty, your sloppy eyes and the warmth of your breath closer to his mouth.

“What happened!!??” “Vice-captain?!” “are you two allr-“ the girls scream in terror. Probably, once they were out of the showers they faced the dantesque scenery of blades lying on the ground and a anti kaiju suit completely destroyed and fuming scattered all over the floor.

Within seconds, not only the officers of squad 3 have reached the place but also the men. Some of them, thinking not the worst… but probably that Hoshina fuku Taichou and you have finally caved in for lust.

With a fast reaction, Soshiro grabs the coat of his own uniform to cover you up. And with a much more severe tone ever heard, he orders Kikoru to call Mina and Okomi and let them know he is taking a badly injured officer to the medical pavilion. As for the rest, a scary deadly look over his shoulder was enough to make them run away from the place allowing him to pass.

You, however, couldn’t quite experience such happenings, as your consciousness had fade away right before your comrades arrived.

A soft white light shines in between your shut eyes; the sound of unknown solitude reaches your ears as well as the synchronic beep of your heart reflected on a machine.

“What-“ you mumble, regaining consciousness. Your body feels cold, and you are thankful for that. Your limbs are heavy, but you can move them. Your lips and mouth are dry, but you smile as you remember vague flashes of Soshiro and you under the shower.

You finally open your eyes to discover you are indeed at some kind of medical facility, soon remembering this is the place you all come when you are severely injured after battle.

Everything on your body seems to be on its place, and for that you breathe alleviated. Thankful to your hero, you wonder how to thank him when you are out of here… or maybe, you just plan to leave the squad as he has seen you completely naked.

“I didn’t know you were awake already” a well-known voice scares you away. You try to stand up, but his hand stops you from doing so. “I couldn’t sleep, I was worried for you” he says, with that sweet funny tone he often uses to communicate.

There is, as far as you could see, anyone around but you and him. Soshiro, who apparently couldn’t sleep, has come to see you.

Your cheeks burn, and it’s not because of a defective suit now. It is because, you are deeply embarrassed, and still, something inside you is jumping with genuine happiness to see him here.

“I’m ok, Sir. But.. you didn’t have to come! I’m deeply thankful for you saving my life, and I promise you I will replace the uniform you got all wet” you say, trying to look away from him who has came closer to your bed.

Soshiro bursts out laughing, the way he only knows how to. He grabs his stomach, and soon flashes of the way those abs looked with wet fabric sticked to them, makes you shiver.

“You- you should worry for your own suit! Not mine!” he continues laughing while, little by little, he ends up sitting right on the bed. “By the way, you know why your suit almost killed you?” he asks.

You swallow. What- why is he sitting next to you?

You shake your head in denial, out of words, because you couldn’t think of a reason for such big flaw on that impressive technological miracle.

Soshiro, who is well known for being at least a little bit irreverent -and that’s exactly what you love the most about him-, gets himself comfortable next to you. He lies back, as you move to the side to make him some space.

Now, the scent of his skin is clean and delicious -even more than earlier-. And you can smell it, because there isn’t much room to be separated on a single bed.

“Well… you had a piece of Kaiju tooth stuck on your lower back. Therefore, the suit either processed it as a threat or… it reacted with the pieces of kaiju within it. In any case, you will be given a new one in a couple of days” he tells you, with his right arm stuck underneath the back of his head.

His bicep, perfectly moulded to be strong, but still lightweight to be as agile as possible, protrudes with the hem of the compression shirt around it. Does he really know how sexy he looks? Or he is absolutely unaware of the effects he has?

“Oh…” you sigh. You take it as a personal failure; how were you not able to see it? “Don’t worry, this incident helped them to investigate further security measures… however, isn’t your back hurting?” he asks, this time turning to you.

You deny, again, without any words coming from your mouth. But there isn’t much you could do, when Soshiro turns you around so that your back faces him.

“You do, in fact, have a big bruise. I should report this, too” he comments, as his soft index travels down your spine, to the small of your back.

Your eyes, opened big enough to look like moons, have stopped seeing all around and all you can think of is the proximity of that man to you.

“You good?” he murmurs, ignorant of everything happening to your body. “Ye-yes, vice-captain. I wanna thank you for taking care of us the way you do; hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now…” you pull those words from who knows where, even if your muscles seem paralyzed from his touch. Your speech sounds like those you give when you follow commands during battle.

He laughs; this time softer and sweeter. You can feel his body coming closer, enough to feel the tip of his nose grazing your neck.

“We should have each other’s backs in here, or else… but most importantly, being told my blades will not be useful to fight and protect, you remind me once again that they indeed can” he whispers, making your skin shiver.

It’s clear that he wants you. And you want him, too. And you always knew, and he always knew. And all of them, too. Why, just now, on a place where you should be monitored, there were nobody around if not?

“Can I rest here for a minute?” he asks, as his forehead lands on your nape. “All the time you want, Vice-captain” you answer back, smiling softly.

You slowly relax, as his hand slides in the most delicate way towards your belly to hug you. Your hand, also delicate, fall on top of his, confirming how much you would love for him to touch you like this forever.

“Call me Soshiro when we are like this, ok?” he murmurs, planting the first kiss right on your shoulder.

You turn around, slowly. Even if you would love to stay the way you were, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to see his face.

“Soshiro…” you whisper, coming closer to his lips. “That’s better…” he smiles, kindly.

And one kiss, and then another came by… and thankfully, that night, there were no more Kaiju around.

#kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kaiju no. 8 smut #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soushirou #hoshina soshirou x reader

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weird-is-life · 6 months

Note

pregnant reader and Spencer fic where he makes her cry on accident 😭😭

Hii lovely, ty for the request🥰! Hope this is okay, warnings: fluff, kisses, like one swear word, reader cries (not because of something bad tho, it's cute), use of pet names (0.6k)

Spencer is running late at least later than he'd told you he would be and he can't stress it more. You've been home alone almost the whole day, and Spencer knows you are probably more than lonely.

But even if he's already late Spencer makes one more stop to get some groceries before heading home to you.

When he finally arrives home, he can't stop apologising as you greet him by the door, the baby bump very visible underneath one of his sweaters.

"Hi sweetheart, I'm so sorry I'm late there was a problem we needed to deal with," Spencer apologises and kisses your cheek.

"It's okay, Spence," you say into his shirt, already hugging him tightly, "I missed you a lot though."

Spencer looks at you like he always does with a too loving smile, "I missed you two, too."

Spencer ushers you towards the couch, he doesn't want you to be standing for too long 'cause he knows your feet would hurt, and also because he intends to cuddle you as much as possible there.

He quickly unpacks the groceries, and remembers the snacks he's bought for you. What he doesn't know is that you've been craving exactly the same snack he's bought the entire day.

"Here I got you these sweetheart," Spencer gives the snacks to you and rushes to the bedroom to change into something much more comfortable than the suit.

You stay still, your eyes filling up with tears as you hold the snacks in your hands.

When he comes back to you, he finds you eating the snacks while the tears run down by your cheeks.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's wrong?" Spencer immediately sits next to you, and starts to wipe the tears away.

"I just....-" you start with small hiccup, "I just love you so much."

A warm chuckle escapes Spencer's mouth, before he's back to comforting you. He's read every single book there's on pregnancy, so he knows how tough it is with the changes of hormones.

"Oh, baby, I love you too is that why you're crying, huh? Or is it something else? Maybe me being late?" He really hope it isn't the latter.

"N-no, I just-... I just really wanted these snacks all day, Spence," you tell him as another set of tears escapes from your eyes, "a-and they are too good."

"Oh sweetheart, if I knew you wanted them so badly i would have bought more," Spencer tells you with a sympathetic smile.

He understands it can be a lot for you from time to time, even if it's something as simple as craving some snack, so he let's you eat your snacks while he wipes away the tears. He does that until the snacks are gone along with the tears.

You look just unhappy about finishing the snacks as you did minutes ago eating them. You give him a puppy eyes, and Spencer is up on his legs before you can even say his name.

"Spencer...?"

"Don't worry, lovely. I got it, I'll buy you more than enough," Spencer quickly gives you a kiss, and goes to put on his shoes, car keys already in his hand.

"Spence?"

"Yes?" he looks back at you so fucking lovingly completely unbothered about the fact that he has to go to the shop again that you think you might start crying again (Spencer loves you so much that it happens a lot, you crying about how much you love him).

"Of course, but only if you really want to. I don't mind going alone."

"I want to," you say enthusiasticly. That is all Spencer needs to take your shoes, and go back to you. He puts the shoes on for you, kisses your bump, and helps you get up.

"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll get you anything you want if you tell me about your day, " Spencer happily listens to you chatter about everything that crossed your mind through the day.

You and Spencer leave the shop with way too many snacks, but it's okay because you're happy as one can be and that's all Spencer needs, okay maybe the cuddles too.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

distant calls

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, male masturbation, mentions of p in v sex, like one use of kid, protective!rafe, one mention of violence, kinda creeper!rafe i guess??, dubcon possibly?? not really but just in case!

“hey princess.” rafe smiles when he hears immediately how excited you are.

“hi rafey!” you squeal into the phone, wishing you weren't separated by the distance, forced to talk on the phone instead of in person.

“how was your day pretty girl? what did you do?” rafe asks.

your cheeks blush red at the nickname, never getting used to it no matter how many times he uses it on you.

“well, it was a port day!” you start to describe your cruise. you really did try to have fun with your parents, but part of you longed to have rafe around, to be back in the obx where he could look after you.

you tell rafe all about the city you stopped in, where you went to shop and a cave exploring excursion that you ended up sitting out to wait on the beach until your parents got back.

you kick your feet up and down, back and forth as you recount everything to rafe. he stays mostly quiet, only letting out a few grunts and light sighs that you suppose is his affirmation that he's listening.

you feel so lucky to have captured rafes interest. you're not dating, haven't done anything at all yet beyond rafe holding your hand when you cross the street, but you're enamored with him. rafe is just as infatuated with you, but he would be damned if he told you, preferring to just keep you smiling and beat up any guys who look at you even a second too long at parties.

“and then we got back on the ship.” you twirl a finger absentmindedly over the blanket as you lay on your stomach on the bed.

“did you eat baby?” rafe asks, his voice sounding strained.

“yes, of course.” you nod quickly despite rafe not being able to see you. “we went to the buffet and i got a chicken salad and then i even got dessert!” your exclaim, proud of yourself. “i got vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.”

“that's good, kid.” rafe let's out another sigh that has you pressing your ear into the phone, listening intensely to hear a weird somewhat wet sound that you can't place.

“keep-” rafe gasps out. “keep talking baby. tell me about-” he has to pause again as he grunts. “tell me about tomorrow.”

you instantly lose your suspicion as you let out another squeal. “rafey, you will never believe it!” you explain how you're going snorkeling in an area where people commonly see dolphins and you're really hoping you see them on the boat ride out to the reef.

you giggle with excitement, not realizing what your sounds are doing to rafe.

many hours away, back in the outer banks, rafe is laying on his bed, back propped up against the pillows, one hand holding his phone close to his ear while his other furiously strokes his cock.

it wasn't his intention when you first got on the phone, but hearing your sweet little voice had him pulling his cock out of his shorts.

“oh wow.” rafe says, tacking on a moan at the end that he hopes is disguised by his words.

rafe knows he's going to break the second you get back from your cruise. he's going to pick you up himself and bring you to the closest bed, even if it's a shitty motel. he's not even confident he'll make it that far without needing to take you. maybe the side of the highway will do.

you continue talking away about the itinerary, not a clue in the world that rafe is so close to ending the game you've been playing, the teasing about to come to a wicked end.

“are you in your pajamas?” rafe asks, interrupting you. but he doesn't care. he needs to know more.

“yup.” you say, popping your p’s. “been in my room for like half an hour now. it's so warm even with the ac blasting i'm wearing just a t-shirt.”

it's all rafe needs, the image of you splayed out on the bed with just a t-shirt on, pushed up to reveal your bare cunt and perfect tits. rafe doesn't hold back his sounds as much as he knows he should, grunting as he cums with a final stroke, releasing all over his abs.

“you okay rafey?” you question.

“im perfect, dollface.” rafe says, sighing as he lets go off his softening cock.

“wanna switch to facetime?” you pout. “i miss looking at you.”

rafe switches without second thought, loving to see the way your eyes widen when you realize he's in bed shirtless, eyes squinting at the sticky white substance dotting his lower half.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @dityaadama @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

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hintsofhoney · 2 months

Text

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously.

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?”

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him.

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand.

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair.

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent.

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side.

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong.

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —”

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her.

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt.

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him.

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?”

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her.

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist.

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time.

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.”

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.”

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest.

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers.

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.”

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true.

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him.

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside.

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out.

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress.

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there.

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.”

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.”

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it.

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

#alpha dean winchester #dean winchester smut

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition.

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place.

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip.

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck.

The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital.

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten.

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled.

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but.

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.)

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen.

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair.

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants."

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him.

Would Harrington pitch a fit?

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did?

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper.

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life?

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it.

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--"

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out."

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying.

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness.

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone."

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box.

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home.

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope.

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet.

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand.

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list.

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that."

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face.

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him.

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

"You'll check up on Robin too, right?" He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?"

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years.

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here.

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder.

Several somethings, in fact.

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck.

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick.

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie.

An unfair advantage, really.

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly.

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie.

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting.

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie."

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

"What do you mean Si--Wayne."

"Nice catch.” Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.”

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much.

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither.

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat."

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked.

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?"

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret.

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt."

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle.

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end."

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?"

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be.

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless.

"Anybody else?" He asked.

"Nobody human." Steve replied.

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that.

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?"

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency, I'd be happy to."

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through.

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation.

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus. "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER."

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it.

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair."

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound.

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble.

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…"

"You take any today son?"

Steve his head.

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack.

Course he hadn't.

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in.

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once.

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this.#Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain.#also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

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chrisevansonly · 8 months

Text

The Media’s Favourite

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: amelia is the light of charles’s life, and she adores him just as much, it’s a good think the media loves her too…

warnings: very fluffy dad charles, like tooth rotting

a/n: i really needed this after the past few days i’ve been having, so this is self indulgent for sure

Amelia had her head on your shoulder as you weaved your way through the crowds to reach Charles before he was whisked off for media duties. He’d come in second at the grand prix today, and the two of you couldn’t have been any prouder especially after how the season started for him.

“Papa?”

You smiled softly kissing the 4 year olds cheek gently, her eyes looking around for her favourite person

“Almost there petit fleur, we’re almost there..”

The two of you walked down towards the motorhomes and over to ferrari’s hospitality, once the two of you had made it safely, Charles was waiting where he usually was, towards the back offices.

“Bonjour mes bébés!”

At the sound of Charles’s voice Amelia picked her head up and smiled happily

“Papa!!”

“Mon ange!!”

He responded with an enthusiasm to match his little girls, and man did the two of them ever look like twins. Charles took her from you gently and you smiled as she clung to him tightly, the Monégasque kissing her cheek a few times before sending you a smile, a pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You did so well baby, congratulations”

“Thank you amour, I think it was because my girls were here”

He kissed your forehead, wrapping his arm around your waist before walking with the two of you down towards the media pen. It was almost tradition to go anywhere together as a family, especially in the paddock on race weekends.

As the three of you arrived, Charles took you and Amelia behind where you’d be away from the journalists but could still see him, only when he went to pass Amelia back to you, she whined

“No papa, stay with you!”

You frowned knowing how hard it was for her to see him and then need to let him go again

“Bébé, papa will only be a little while”

Amelia shook her head, her bottom lip pouting as she tucked her head into Charles’s neck, soft little whimpers escaping her

“Want to stay, papa want to stay!”

Charles thought about it before nodding

“You want to come with papa and talk about the race?”

Moving her head to look at him Charles could have swore his heart burst at the anxious look in his daughters eyes, not because of the camera, but because she didn’t want to be anywhere but his arms.

“Yes please!”

Looking at you to check if it was okay you nodded and watched them walk out into the media pen, all eyes on the father-daughter duo. Thankfully today, Charles had Lissie interviewing him.

“Well this is a surprise, hello Charles and hello Amelia!”

Amelia waved shyly and Charles laughed, adjusting her on his hip so she could see better.

“I have a buddy for media today it seems”

“You do, quite a cute one too!”

Charles smiled before nudging Amelia

“What do you say bébé?”

The toddler smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder

“Thank you”

Lissie smiled just as brightly, the content too cute to handle as she dove into questions about the race, Amelia listening intently, just happy to be in her father’s arms and close to him.

As the interview began to close Lissie asked Charles if Amelia could answer a question, to which he nodded, the four year old now watching her with interest.

“So Amelia, I was wondering who is the best race car driver?”

Amelia was quiet before gently patting Charles’s chest

“Papa! He is the best! He can go ‘weally fast! He’s my ‘favowite”

For being four years old she’d always been so great with words, even if some were still hard to pronounce she gave it her all.

“You heard it here everyone, Amelia Leclerc’s favourite driver is her dad! Safe to say I think many would agree, Thank you Charles and thank you Amelia!”

Charles thanked Lissie before the pair weaved their way back towards you, your arms open and ready to pull then in for a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you my superstars!”

Kissing both of them gently you all made your way back to get your things and get ready to leave the track. When the day started you definitely didn’t know it would end this way, seeing your baby girl so animated and happy in front of the cameras for the world to see.

You just knew it wouldn’t be the first or last time Amelia took the Formula One media pen by storm…turns out she was a fan favourite. But even then, she’d always be yours and Charles’s favourite too.

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taeghi · 10 months

Text

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 :)

#smut #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung #hanbin

2K notes · View notes

fireya-x · 18 days

Text

family dinner

AO3 Link (for the full tag list) || masterlist

John asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night, to save himself from annoying questions from his family. Turns out, you're actually who he really wants.

[9k+ words]

cw: smut, piv sex, cowgirl, handjobs, come eating

Embossed golden script on cream white card paper - it was an invitation to his grandmothers' birthday party, alright. A subtle attempt at elegance from a woman who thought tea and a tin of biscuits solved most problems. John sighed.

He already knew the drill; his mother, every aunt and uncle, cousins and second cousins twice removed would be there, armed to the teeth with baby pictures and probing questions to make him wish he’d stayed in another country in some godforsaken warzone.

The phone ringing cut through John’s meager dinner of takeout curry, one of his favorites, when he was back in his flat for a short time leave. He picked it up and answered before checking, as he usually did, expecting it to be Laswell – but that voice wasn't Kate.

“Jonathan, my dear boy, did you receive the invitation?” His grandmother’s voice was a robust cackle for her age, a force of nature that kept her so fit at ninety.

“Just held it in my hands seconds ago, Nan.”

“Ninety years young, can you believe it?”

“Never a dull moment,” he answered, picking at the takeaway container lid.

She laughed lightly, then cleared her throat. “Listen, dear. The caterer is extra fussy. Your opinion is special to me, you know that. It’s not like I get to plan this every day”

Here it comes.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m asking you what you want, John. I have everything else planned.” Of course she did.

“It’s your birthday, Nan. I’ll eat anything,” he sighed. “Toffee pudding can’t be missing from any birthday, though.”

“Of course, that’s a must! Especially with you visiting! You’ve always loved it as a little boy. Now tell me, is your girl more a partial to fish or chicken?”

The fork clattered onto the styrofoam. John almost choked.

“You’ll be bringing someone, aren’t you?”

He should have said no. He should have clarified, for the thousandth time, that his occupation left no room for romantic walks on the beach and candlelit dinners. Maintaining relationships wasn’t something John did, especially when his job included more explosions than birthday candles on her birthday cake. And apparently, eliminating terrorists and global threats was not a suitable substitute for great-grandchildren.

But there was something in her voice. Hope? Excitement to finally see her grandson with a woman at his side? It was her 90th birthday, after all. Who knew how long John would have her still? Seeing him happy was the greatest gift he could give her, and he knew that.

John sighed. “Yes, I will bring someone.”

That she didn't squeal was unexpected, but he knew his mother was right there with her, listening to everything.

Fuck.

What was he supposed to do? Try Tinder, maybe? How hard could it be to find a woman who’d go on a date with him? But John hated every single aspect of using his phone for anything other than texting and calling — and he gave up when the app asked him too many questions about himself.

That’s when he heard footsteps outside his apartment. He remembered that beautiful, chatty neighbor of his. You'd watched his flat and watered his plants a few times when he was deployed. You’d only met briefly, but given John’s sparsely decorated way of living, he wasn’t worried you would steal anything. But his grandmother's plants were something holy to him, and you kept them alive, and that made you a trustworthy person in his book.

And he would be lying if he didn't admit he'd stolen a glance at you here and there, always hidden in a hoodie or a way-too-big raincoat that obscured your figure, and something about it intrigued him.

Before his brain could even process what his feet were doing, he stumbled to the front door and opened it, revealing you, arms full of groceries, struggling to get the key into the door.

“Need help with that?” A low, grumbling voice startled you, and you almost dropped the bag full of fruits and veggies.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

John chuckled, then took the bag from you as if it was something he'd casually do all the time. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, putting the key in the lock. You took the bag from him and wanted to escape this awkward situation with your way-too-good-looking neighbor as fast as possible. But before you could close the door, he intervened.

“Hey, uh, I have a question.” John’s hand ran through his hair, a nervous gesture that betrayed his usual confidence.

“Yes?”

“I – I kinda promised my grandma that I’d bring a girlfriend to her 90th birthday party, and, well –”

“You don’t have one?” The question came out sounding more shocked than you intended. You were certain he had women lining up for him.

“Yeah, I mean, no, I don’t.” His gaze dropped to the floor for a fleeting moment, as if suddenly embarrassed by the admission. You tilted your head, looking at him expectantly.

“So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? What’s in it for me?”

“Free fancy food?” He smiled crookedly, and you were done for. How could you say no to that smile? The same smile that had been haunting your thoughts ever since he’d given you his keys to his apartment? Your heart was pounding.

“It’s a date,” you said, the words slipping out before you could overthink it. The relief that flooded his eyes made something inside you flutter.

“Thank you, I owe you one. Six p.m. on Friday, alright?”

“What should I wear?”

John wasn’t prepared for that question. And he didn’t mean to check you out – but he did. His eyes wandered from your boots, over your hips, up to your breasts – where his gaze lingered a second too long— and then to your face.

“It’s a garden dinner. I’m sure you’ll look nice in anything,” he said, the words feeling ridiculously inadequate the moment they left his lips.

“Very helpful, thanks.” He braced himself for a sarcastic retort, but you chuckled, shaking your head. “I’ll figure it out. Have a nice evening.”

You retreated to your apartment, leaning back against the closed door, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Your heart was still pounding. Did John, your neighbor, ask you out? The same John who seemed so unapproachable, wrapped in that aura of intensity he always wore, who disappeared for weeks on end to go on “business trips” and returned with a deep shadow under those blue eyes?

What did he even do when he disappeared? You'd never asked. Even when he'd given you his keys so you could look after his flat while he was gone, there was nothing that gave away what exactly he did or where he went.

The small conversations you’d shared had always been just that— small nothings, polite exchanges with your friendly neighbor. Still, those infrequent encounters always sent your stomach into a nervous frenzy.

You rummaged through your closet, trying to find something that screamed “I'm a cool, collected woman who casually dates mysteriously handsome men ” without looking like you’d overdone it. A garden party could literally mean anything, especially since you knew nothing about his family. Were you supposed to pick a nice, flowing dress or stick with casual jeans and a shirt? You had no idea.

You stopped your mind from spiralling further. It wasn’t a real date. It was a fake date .

What were you thinking, agreeing to this? You were doubting your own sanity — but then you remembered the crinkled corners of his eyes when he smiled, the warmth that radiated from him when he’d helped you with your groceries – saying “no” to him wasn’t even an option. There was something about him that drew you in, a gravitational pull you couldn’t resist, even if it meant playing pretend.

The sundress you wore – he couldn’t even pinpoint the colour, something soft and warm, summery, like the sky just before dusk – hugged your curves in all the right ways, the delicate straps showcasing the elegant line of your neck and collarbone. His gaze traced the gentle swell of your breasts beneath the thin fabric, the way the skirt flowed over your hips, his mind already picturing how it would look bunched up around your waist when –

Fuck.

A wave of heat - he knew it so well, yet hadn’t felt it in what seemed like forever - crashed over him, settled deep in his gut, tightening his muscles, making his cock twitch.

He shifted uncomfortably, desperately hoping you hadn’t noticed the way his pants suddenly felt about two sizes too small.

He’d usually never been one for flowery dresses and delicate gold jewellery like the earrings that decorated your ears. They clashed with the brutal reality of his world. But on you, it was devastating. You were an innocent, oblivious creature walking straight into his hardened, cynical world without even knowing it. And somehow, against all logic and years of self-preservation, he wanted to corrupt every part of you.

His gaze snapped to the flesh of your delicate thighs that left little to his imagination, those toned legs wrapped around his waist while he pulled you closer and –

Jesus fucking Christ, get a grip.

He forced himself to look away, clenching his jaw so hard he thought he’d pull a muscle.

This was his neighbour. You , who’d watered his plants, borrowed his toolbox, offered a smile whenever you met in the hallway. The one who’d agreed to this incredibly stupid idea. You were doing him a favour, for God’s sake.

“Ready?” He shoved the word out harsher than he’d intended, the sound completely alien to even his own ears. But before you could answer, he shut his door and ushered you towards the exit. He needed air. He’d preferred an ice bath, preferably yesterday.

You didn’t mind adapting to roles and play pretend at all, but as soon as you arrived at the estate, your confidence got humbled. The house was huge, and the driveway alone was already filled with floral arrangements and all sorts of birthday wishes – an enormous ninety made out of entirely blush pink roses and lavender decorated the front yard.

The garden party was in full swing already when you two arrived. The air buzzed with the sound of laughter and chatter, clinking glasses and the distant beat of a live band. John seemed oddly out of place in between the flowers and the brightly dressed guests, like a lone wolf who had been dragged to a tea party.

But as soon as you stepped further into the event, the warm air surrounding you, the scent of freshly cut grass and citrus, the smiling faces all around you, your anxiety about the whole thing lessened.

“Don’t worry too much," John's arm brushed against yours as you navigated through the clusters of guests. He reached out to grab two drinks from a passing waiter’s tray. “The worst they could do is show you my childhood photos.”

He offered you a drink, and you took it from him, smiling. “Somehow, that’s not as reassuring as you think it is.” You earned yourself a deep chuckle that rumbled through his chest and did decidedly inappropriate things to your equilibrium.

When John took your free hand into his like it was the most normal thing in the world, you felt like this was going to be the easiest task. For a fleeting moment, it was easy to forget you were living a lie.

Until dinner.

The seating arrangements were strategically orchestrated, it seemed, to maximize family bonding - or torture, you hadn’t decided which. You found yourself sitting between John, radiating a mix of polite restraint and his usual natural intensity that set your pulse racing, and a woman with the same kind eyes as him.

“This is my mother, Eleanor,” John had introduced her earlier, her smile so warm and welcoming you’d almost forgotten you were supposed to be playing a role. She seemed almost too impressed when you'd introduced yourself, as if she couldn't quite believe he was telling the truth about having a girlfriend.

You'd prove them wrong, not for their sake, but for your own growing satisfaction at seeing John surprised.

You were no stranger to the barrage of questions about your single status and lack of a partner from your own family, so you knew how tiresome it could get. You braced yourself for a similar interrogation.

Across the table, John's grandma beamed at you with a delight that melted your heart. You understood then what this was all about for him — fulfilling his grandmother's wish to see him happy, settled.

On impulse, you reached out to grab John’s hand beside yours, your fingers threading through his, offering him a reassuring smile, pretending to bring out your best I-am-so-in-love look you could muster.

He seemed taken aback, his entire body stiffening for a split second as if your touch were an electric shock. But then he recovered quickly, his fingers tightening around yours with a gentle pressure that sent goosebumps dancing up your arm. He raised your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles that lingered a heartbeat too long.

Your breath caught in your throat, your gaze fixated on the curve of his lips, the way his beard scraped against your skin. Your stomach did a somersault, your senses flooded with a rush of longing that was as unexpected as it was undeniably thrilling.

“So,” John's aunt leaned across the table, her voice a bit too loud, as if intended to break the spell you’d fallen under. “What do you do?”

You blinked, momentarily disoriented, your gaze reluctantly leaving John’s hand and focusing on the plate of food a server had just placed before you. Shepherd's pie. But not just any shepherd’s pie. This looked like a culinary masterpiece compared to the frozen meals you were used to eating all the time.

“I work in healthcare,” you answered, your mouth already watering at the sight of the culinary heaven before you. “I’m an ER nurse.”

“Oh, wow,” his grandma chirped from across the table, her eyes twinkling with genuine interest. Her comment, however, was quickly drowned out by his aunt's next, slightly more probing, question.

“I'm amazed you two met with such busy schedules. To be fair,” she added with a sly smile directed at John, “I'm shocked Jonathan managed to find someone at all with his occupation .”

Your fork, laden with a generous portion of creamy mashed potatoes and perfectly seasoned mince, froze halfway to your mouth. Your earlier questions about the nature of John’s job came rushing back. What exactly did he do? You knew he was often away for extended periods, you even kept his plants from dying a slow death from time to time, but his reasons had always been vague. “Business trips,” he’d called them, with a shrug and that infuriatingly handsome smile.

“Right,” you managed, forcing a light laugh as you carefully set your fork back down, your appetite momentarily forgotten. “We make it work. We talk a lot on the phone."

“You do?” His mother, ever the perceptive one, turned to John, her brows raised in what you could only describe as disbelief. “How come you always tell us you can’t contact us?”

John cleared his throat and his hand reached for his beer, his fingers wrapping around the cold glass. “Kate makes some exceptions,” he explained, his gaze fixed on the drink.

Kate? Your mind scrambled for context, your internal “John’s-Life” file coming up short. “Kate” let him make exceptions? Who was Kate, and more importantly, what kind of job required someone to ask permission to make personal phone calls? And why did you feel jealous - you had absolutely no business to feel this way.

“Who’s Kate?” You asked, reaching for your champagne flute, unable to hide the accusatory edge creeping into your voice.

“My boss . Sort of.” The golden liquid got caught halfway in your throat. First name basis with his boss? His family knew his boss? So many questions came up, and you were slowly starting to panic. You were supposed to be a believable girlfriend, but you were scared the mask was slipping away by the second.

“Oh, right, Kate. Sorry, darling. You know how my weeks have been lately. It's a wonder I can remember my own name half the time.”

“She must be happy for you, too,” his mother commented, delicately spearing a piece of fish with a precision that made you suspect years of etiquette training lay beneath her impeccably polite facade. “Finding someone special, I mean. Might even spare her some of your, shall we say, moods .” She glanced at John, her eyebrows arched as if she was sharing a private joke with the entire table, except you.

Moods? You’d always found John to be quiet, reserved, perhaps a tad intimidating at times, but never moody.

You glanced at John, who was pointedly studying his plate, the faintest hint of a flush creeping up his neck. You wouldn't have thought the man capable of embarrassment. It made him seem unexpectedly human, and somehow even more attractive.

You were about to ask for clarification when Nan seized the conversational reins. “So, darlings,” she asked, her gaze moving back and forth between you and John, her smile widening expectantly, “How long have you two known each other?”

“I think six months?” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips.

At the exact same moment, John declared, “Almost a year now,” his voice deep and steady, completely contradicting your rushed estimation.

You froze. The silence that descended upon the table was deafening.

“Has it already been that long?” you exclaimed quickly, forcing a bright smile and injecting as much wonder and mock surprise into your voice as you could muster. You prayed that your sudden rush of amnesia would be enough to distract them from the giant, elephant-sized hole you’d just blown in your story. You reached over to slightly squeeze his hand. “I suppose time flies when you’re in love.”

You snuck a peek at John, expecting to see panic, maybe even annoyance, but what you found in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He was watching you intensely. And that smile playing at the corner of his lips? It made something dangerous and delicious twist low in your belly.

“I believe that,” John’s grandma chimed in, her voice warm with the wisdom of nine decades lived. “You two are very lovely together.”

Eleanor nodded in agreement. “She’s good for you, Jonathan. Maybe having someone special to come home to will make those long missions away a little easier.”

"Speaking of which, how’s that new posting treating you, lad? Heard it’s a bit of a hot zone, eh?” John's uncle boomed across the table.

“It has its challenges,” John replied, taking a long sip of his beer as if to fortify himself for the inevitable round of inquiries. “But it’s good to be back in the field.”

You frowned. Field? Posting? What kind of job involved working in a “field”? And what exactly made it a “hot zone?” You felt more and more confused by the conversation, it was as if they spoke an entirely different language, a language riddled with code words and shared experiences you weren’t privy to.

“That I believe,” his uncle answered, also reaching for his beer as if to toast to a shared understanding. “Bet your rank will get you far, though.”

You felt John tense beside you, his hand tightening around yours, not letting go. His family's casual acceptance of his frequent — and apparently lengthy — disappearances made you increasingly curious. You knew by now he often travelled for work, but something about the way they spoke, the underlying thread of concern laced with pride, hinted at a world you were only just starting to glimpse.

“I imagine those long stretches apart must be difficult, darling,” John's aunt commented, her gaze fixed on you with a sympathy that only deepened your bewilderment. “But I’m sure you’re used to it by now, working in a hospital and all. Those long shifts must be a challenge, too.”

You smiled, still confused about what was going on—but you also saw an opportunity. It was time to take control of the narrative, to steer this conversation into a territory you could navigate — even if it meant bending the truth further than it had already been twisted.

“Speaking of long stretches,” you interjected, shooting John a look that was equal parts challenge and playful invitation. You’d gone from wanting to bolt to wanting to play this game, see how far you could push him, how convincingly you could both lie. “Remember that road trip we took last fall? The one where we got hopelessly lost in the Scottish Highlands and ended up sleeping in the car?”

As you spoke, you noticed that everyone else at the table had dived into their food, the initial round of introductions and polite inquiries fading into a comfortable murmur of conversation. Nan beamed at you both, her fork hovering over a generous slice of shepherd’s pie, her eyes twinkling with the quiet pleasure of seeing her grandson – even a pretend version of him – happy.

Beside you, John stiffened, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and what you could only interpret as wary amusement. “Ah, yes,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, like velvet draped over steel. “Scotland. Beautiful, isn’t it, love?”

“Beautiful?” you countered, tilting your head and letting out a soft laugh that you were fairly certain sounded far more genuine than it should have. You couldn’t help but admire his quick thinking, the way he effortlessly picked up on your cue and played along. “Those winding Highland roads. They were more treacherous than romantic, if I’m being honest. I was certain you were going to drive us straight off a cliff at least a dozen times.”

His smile widened, revealing a flash of teeth that made something deep inside you melt a little. “I assure you, love, my driving is impeccable. You were simply distracted.” His gaze lingered on your face for a beat too long.

A delicious warmth flooded your cheeks. “Distracted? I seem to recall you being the one with wandering eyes," you countered, your voice dropping to a low murmur as you met his gaze head-on. You weren’t sure if the heightened awareness you felt buzzing between you was a product of the lies you were weaving or something more.

“That’s because you are quite the sight to behold, love,” he said, his voice husky, the words brushing against your senses like a caress.

You stared at him, your mind scrambling to process his words, their unexpected sincerity throwing you off balance. Had he just complemented you?

“You are—” He paused, his gaze sweeping over you, lingering on your chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. You held your breath, waiting, as the air thrummed with a sudden, unexpected intimacy.

“Breathtaking.”

What was he doing? you thought, your heart pounding. Was he still playing the part, or was there something more simmering beneath the surface? And why did the possibility excite you?

The air thickened, the sound of his family’s conversation fading into the background as the world seemed to shrink, the space between you charged with an energy that was impossible to ignore. You weren't sure if you wanted to laugh or lean across the table and kiss him senseless.

Just as you felt yourself leaning into that dangerous impulse, Eleanor cleared her throat delicately.

You both startled, like students caught whispering in the back of the classroom. John's cheeks, you noticed with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, were flushed a faint shade of pink. Even a man like John wasn't immune to a mother's watchful gaze.

“Those rolls are delicious, dear,” Eleanor commented, and turned to you, her tone light but her eyes sharp with amusement. “Why don't you have one?”

You reached for a roll, suddenly starving, the earlier tension dissolving into a relieved chuckle as you caught John's eyes. He winked at you, a playful glint in his blue eyes. You winked back, feeling a warmth spread through you caused by the man sitting beside you, a man who, despite your best efforts to resist, was quickly becoming more than just a convenient prop in this game of play pretend.

You'd managed to escape the clutches of the dinner table without completely blowing your cover, even when, at some points, you weren’t so sure how nobody saw right through you. But then came the real challenge — mingling. The party had moved inside the house, and you were separated from John.

You silently cursed yourself for agreeing to this whole fabricated scenario. What if you told completely different stories to his relatives? What if someone asked you about his work, for God’s sake?

Glasses of port in hand, John’s extended family seemed very determined to catch up on months’ worth of news in one evening. You did your best to smile politely at every occasion, your inner monologue continuously reminding you to simply not say anything stupid.

Suddenly, a very chipper and well-dressed woman intruded on your personal space, waving her phone in front of your face. “You must be John’s girl!” she exclaimed, and before you could even answer, she swiped through numerous photos. “Look at her – isn't she adorable!”

You leaned in, attempting to make eye contact with the child in the photos while subtly taking a step back, her perfume a bit overwhelming. “Absolutely adorable,” you agreed, putting on a wide grin, and the woman beamed. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what children you and John will bring into this world. Aren’t they the greatest thing?”

Children? Your smile faltered. You opened your mouth to respond, to stammer out some vague response about “one step at a time”, but before you could even get a word out, the woman had moved on, already excitedly showing off her offspring to the next unsuspecting relative.

Note to self: Avoid eye contact with anyone holding a baby photo, you thought, your internal panic rising. This whole “fake girlfriend” thing was rapidly becoming a high-stakes obstacle course, and you weren’t sure you were agile enough to navigate it without falling flat on your face.

You were trying to reach John, a plate of sticky toffee pudding on your plate, wanting to show off that you were going to try his favorite dessert – when a booming voice cut through the chatter, catching your attention. “There he is!” A tall, older man with curly hair approached John and shook his hand with a force that could crush granite. “That last mission you pulled off? Absolute textbook. A captain leading his own task force? The old man would be bloody proud.”

John’s posture stiffened ever so slightly. “Cheers, uncle,” he responded, raising his glass, his gaze darting towards you for the briefest of moments.

Mission? Captain? Task force?

The people around you, completely oblivious to your internal meltdown, continued chatting, casually dropping words like “deployment,” “classified,” “weapons,” and all other sorts of military jargon as if they were discussing the weather.

Suddenly, everything fell into place.

All those late-night departures, when you heard heavy footsteps echo through your shared hallway; the vague explanations about “work trips” when you met him outside your apartment; those calls he received at odd hours, his voice tight, his tone clipped, echoing through your shared walls; those calls that always seemed to coincide with a breaking news report or some global crisis. John, your sweet, infuriatingly attractive, seemingly normal neighbor – was leading a deadly task force.

Not that it was any of your business what he did. He owed you nothing.

Then why did this feel like such a blow? That he didn’t tell you beforehand, throwing you into the midst of his family who were clearly all about that life, and leaving you in the dark, making a complete idiot of yourself?

You had been looking forward to trying the famous dessert all evening, but suddenly, your appetite completely vanished. The plate that you held suddenly felt as appealing as cold porridge.

“Everything alright, love?” John approached, noticing the shift in your mood.

You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing. “Peachy,” you replied. “Just, fascinating, hearing everyone’s stories.” You stabbed the pudding with your spoon, not sure where the feelings of anger came from.

You shoved the plate into his chest, forcing him to take it from you. “I just need some air.” You turned and made your way towards his Nan’s beautiful rose garden.

He’d lied to you.

Well, maybe not lied, exactly. Maybe it was the sudden awareness of the danger that shadowed his every move, who he really was, who he was compared to you.

You had every right to feel foolish, to even agree to such a stupid idea. But betrayal? You had no idea where it came from, it seemed like an overreach for a situation that had been, from the beginning, just a constructed lie.

Stepping out into the cool of the garden, you breathed a sigh of relief. The scent of flowers seemed to calm your racing mind a little, a welcome contrast to all the voices you just escaped. You found your way to a small bench underneath an old oak tree, sinking onto the cool wood, straightening your dress doing so.

You didn’t hear John approach, but then again, stealth was probably part of his many talents. You didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, stopping right next to you, an arm leaning on the backrest of the bench.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, frustrated by all these emotions you were feeling. “Well, the food is excellent, your grandma is adorable, and I haven’t witnessed any international incidents first-hand - yet. So that’s a win, I guess?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, a welcome contrast to the tension that had been knotting your stomach ever since you’d pieced together the things about his life. You’d grown accustomed to that sound, to the way it rumbled deep in his chest, unexpectedly gentle for a man who, apparently, spent his days navigating a world far removed from yours.

He shifted slightly, settling beside you on the bench. You felt the heat radiating off him in the cool air of the evening, an awareness that lingered even though he wasn’t touching you.

“Look,” he began, fidgeting with the collar of his shirt, a gesture that was strangely endearing on a man who usually was so confident. “My life –” He gestured vaguely towards the party, the house. The unspoken explanation – “ my life is a full-blown, military-grade soap opera ” – hung in the air between you.

“You know,” you interrupted him, turning to face him. “A little heads-up about what you do would have been nice. Especially that it’s such an important thing in your family.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It wasn’t fair to throw you into that without a warning. I guess because it’s so normal to me, I just completely forgot about it.”

“I’m a nurse, I don’t really specialize in disarming bombs or whatever it is your uncles like to do for fun.”

He laughed then, a full, hearty laugh, that made your heart flutter faster in your chest.

“It’s not funny.” You said, looking away. “And I know I have absolutely no right to feel – ” you struggled to find the right word.

“To feel –?” he prompted, leaning a little closer.

“Disappointed,” you breathed. “It’s silly, I just felt like I was left out of inside jokes during dinner. I tried so hard to not let this lie slip, but it could have been so much easier if I had known.” You took a deep breath. “So, while I was keeping your plants alive," you added, unable to keep the bitterness out of your voice, "You were out there doing what exactly? Neutralizing threats? Saving the world? I missed that chapter in the ‘Good Neighbor Handbook.’”

You couldn’t help the edge that crept into your voice. At first, it had just been a fun little game, a chance to play dress-up and enjoy delicious food. But now, now it felt different. You were, suddenly, uncomfortably aware of just how much you didn’t know about the man sitting beside you.

The silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the soft rustling of leaves overhead. John stared at you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“You probably think I am a complete idiot,” you continued, the words tumbling out in a rush, a jumble of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. “I'm sorry, I'm being absolutely dramatic –”

The words died on your lips as his hands shot out, cupping your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks with a touch that was both possessive and unexpectedly tender. His gaze held yours captive, those blue eyes burning with a fierce intensity that stole your breath away. And then, without a word, without warning, his mouth crashed down on yours.

His lips were hard, demanding, hungry, devouring yours as if he couldn’t get close enough, his tongue tangling with yours in a desperate, unyielding dance.

It was primal, raw, untamed. It was the kind of kiss that stripped away the pretence, obliterated the boundaries, and left you gasping for air, your mind reeling, your body aching for something you couldn’t name but craved with every fibre of your being.

Time seemed to stand still — the garden, the party, the lie — it all faded away. There was only the feel of his lips on yours, the light scrape of his beard against your skin. The taste of him was intoxicating, the heat of his body radiating off him in waves.

Eventually, he pulled back, his breath mingling with yours in the night air. His hands lingered, resting on your face, slightly tracing the lines of your jawline. His gaze was wild, eyes dark and burning into you with an intensity that made you want to melt into a puddle.

You stared back, your mind racing. This was the moment the lines blurred. There had been something there — you felt it. It was more than pretend, more than just playing a game. Desire. Interest. Even though you felt like you no longer knew this man at all, you wanted to get to know him all over again. Taste him, touch him — you blinked, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Would you prefer to leave?” John's hand, still warm from its possessive grip on your face, gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture both intimate and oddly reassuring.

You shook your head. “It’s your grandma's birthday. You can’t just leave because I feel uncomfortable.”

“I think we’ve both had enough of the party for one night,” he murmured, a quick smile flashing across his face. “I’m going to let her know you aren’t feeling too well. Alright?”

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against your cheek, then, with a low rumble, he whispered in your ear, “Wait here.”

In front of both your apartment doors, the silence was an awkwardly long stretch. It felt like you were both trying to understand what had just happened, unsure where to begin.

“So, um,” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that you found strangely endearing. “Thank you for coming.”

You nodded and smiled, “Of course. It was nice to get the dust off this dress again.”

He leaned towards you slowly, and your breath hitched. For one heart-stopping moment, you thought he might kiss you again – would he? Was what happened in the garden just an impulsive decision?

But he hesitated, the moment frozen, and there was something indecisive happening between you. But you didn’t mean to push, neither did he.

He cleared his throat and finally spoke. “Good night,” he said, his words careful, as if he were holding back from saying something else.

“Good night,” you echoed, your voice barely a whisper. The small hope that you'd taste him one more time evaporated.

You turned, your hand reaching for your door, keys almost to the lock, when strong hands grabbed you, spinning you around in a dizzying motion. Before you could even register what was happening, his lips were on yours again — silencing all those unspoken doubts and hesitations.

This was real. You felt it; your heart screamed it; the way his mouth was devouring yours, displaying a hunger and desire that shouted it from the rooftops.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on for dear life, as his tongue traced the seam of your lips with a possessiveness that made your knees weak. You felt the rumble of his groan against your mouth as he backed you against your apartment door, his body moulding against yours as if he was starving for the feel of you. You were breathless, lost in the heat of his touch, the way his hands roamed your back and finally settled on the curve of your ass.

You realized then that you had always dreamed of kissing this man, silently, secretly, whenever his eyes lingered on yours for a beat too long right there in the hallway. You’d always dismissed those fantasies as wishful thinking, but clearly, he’d been wanting the same.

You heard a click as the lock on your door was turned, and you felt as his hand fumbled with the doorknob behind your back – all while his lips were still on yours, occasionally wandering to kiss your jaw and giving you an opportunity to breathe. He cursed under his breath, and before you even processed what was happening, he shouldered the door open and pushed both of you back into the darkness of your apartment.

The familiar space of your home was suddenly transformed, and John's touch was the compass guiding you. He didn't release you, keeping you close to his body as if you might slip away. With a smooth movement, he shoved the door shut, tossing your keys somewhere onto the floor.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up flush against him, the gasp that escaped your lips quickly swallowed by his next kiss. He carried you, your legs wrapped around his waist, until he reached your couch, where he gently laid you down, his body hovering over yours, his eyes devouring you, making you feel incredibly vulnerable.

The sofa dipped as he planted his knees left and right next to your legs, and he leaned to hover over you. You were both breathing hard, the only sound in the silent room. The only light illuminating you was the sliver of moonlight spilling through the window above.

“Is this still pretend?” you managed to whisper, your voice a shaky breath.

His eyes locked onto yours, the slight smirk on his face sending a thrill to your core. His hands moved to your hips, deliberately grinding them against his groin. You gasped as you felt the hardness of his arousal pressed against you, hyperaware of the thin fabric separating your most intimate parts.

“Fuck, no,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. He moved his hips again, his hands slowly but intentionally pushing up your dress.

Your skin felt like it was on fire; your head was spinning.

One of his hands moved up to the line of your dress, and with a rumble in his throat, he pulled the fabric aside, exposing the swell of your breasts to his hungry gaze.

His pupils dilated, his eyes dark and intense, as he stared at you like a starving man presented with a banquet. You'd never been so incredibly turned on, no man had ever made you feel this way— John’s simple gesture of delicately tracing the skin around your nipples made you moan so loudly you immediately threw a hand over your mouth, slightly embarrassed.

“No, let me hear it all. You sing so beautifully, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand gently moving yours away, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and unexpected tenderness.

"John,” you breathed, your voice a shaky sigh.

“This bloody dress,” he groaned. “Wanted to rip it off you the second I saw you standing at my door.” His voice was raw, unfiltered – gone was the nice, gentle neighbor; this was the Captain coming through, the darker, more commanding side of him that should have scared you, but only served to intensify the desire swirling inside you. You wanted to know all about the man he left behind as soon as he stepped into this building.

“Every fuckin' time I saw you in the hallway, those quick hellos were never enough,” he confessed, one hand tightening on your hip, the other slowly trailing down your skin beneath the hem of your dress. His touch was agonizingly slow, leaving a trail of heat in its wake that made you lose your mind. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His words were so honest, it caught you off guard completely. It must have shown on your face right then, because he smiled in return. “Never thought I’d stand a chance," he admitted. "You always seemed out of reach.”

You frowned. “Out of reach?”

He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Figured I’d never stand a chance against the queue of blokes lining up at your door.”

“John, what? A queue, for me?” You laughed, your disbelief genuine, gesturing towards yourself.

He sighed, sitting up, his fingers playing with the lace trim of your panties as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You’re beautiful, and tonight, I learned it’s inside and out. You're you, and that's fuckin’ wonderful."

You shook your head in disbelief. His words made your entire body tremble. He wasn’t just looking at your body; he was seeing you. And it felt extraordinary.

He watched you intently, his eyes filled with a longing that mirrored your own. “I kept thinking about what you were hiding underneath those baggy clothes,” he confessed, his voice a husky whisper, his fingers slowly sliding your panties down your legs. He felt you shy away from him a little, a smirk on his face stole your breath, as he pushed your legs apart with his calloused hands. “Like I said, so beautiful.” He whispered, his voice so rough with what you could only describe as lust. It made you shiver.

“You know,” you whispered, “The funny thing is, I thought exactly the same.”

“What do you mean?” You watched as he slowly ran a hand along your thighs. A ragged breath escaped your lungs, and you struggled to continue speaking.

“You’re incredible – there’s no way you didn’t have someone to –”

“To what?” he asked, suddenly stopping his movements, his gaze intense. “Willing to take a chance on a bloke who doesn’t know a thing about flowers or romantic dinners? Who spends more time on planes than in his own flat? Whose idea of a good time involves dodging bullets and disarming explosives?” He let out a self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head.

He was being so completely honest with you, so vulnerable, it sent a sharp pang through your chest. He was seeing you – the real you, hidden beneath the baggy clothes and carefully constructed walls – and for the first time that night, you were truly seeing him . John, who looked like he could bench-press a small car, who radiated an aura of danger as naturally as he breathed.

He wasn’t some playboy who brought women home every other night, like you’d assumed. He could have any woman he wanted – and yet, here he was, his gaze tracing every inch of your naked body.

He liked you. He’d thought about you.

It felt surreal.

“Best decision I’ve made in a long time,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Asking you, I mean. Thinking I could never have you, and now –”

You held your breath, anticipation coiling in your stomach. “Now what?” you whispered.

“You’re mine.” He growled, and before your brain could even process what happened, his mouth was on your clit, kissing and sucking like he finally got to taste that delicious meal he was promised.

“Oh god–!” you moaned, your hands instinctively gripping his hair, your nails digging into his scalp. He moaned, and the vibration of it against your skin made your legs twitch uncontrollably.

John’s touch was relentless, his tongue swirling against your most sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. You arched against him, your hips bucking involuntarily, craving more of the delicious friction that was driving you to the edge of madness.

He seemed to sense your desperation, the way your body was begging for something more. He pulled back, his gaze meeting yours, his eyes dark with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified you. His hand replaced his tongue, fingers gently caressing your sensitive clit. “Look at you,” he murmured. “So fuckin’ hot.”

“John,” you breathed, you were speaking without any control over it.

“What do you need, love?” he asked, his voice thick with lust, his hand never ceasing its tormenting, exquisite torture against your aching core.

“I – I need –” You couldn't form the words. Your mind was blank, and your body was trembling with need that eclipsed all rational thought.

He seemed to understand, his gaze softening, a knowing smile curving his lips. He rose slightly, his hands moving towards the belt buckle, groaning as he released himself from the confines of his trousers.

He stepped out of his pants, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the sudden silence. His shirt followed shortly after, and you were captivated. His body was hard, sculpted muscle, his arousal straining against the fabric of his boxers, proof of the desire you'd awakened within him.

You watched, mesmerized, as he slowly peeled off his boxers, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached down, fisting himself, and your breath hitched at the sight.

“Still think you’re not attractive to me, love? Look what you’re doing to me,” he let his thumb slowly run over the head of his length, spreading the drop of pre-come that formed there, and he must have known it was teasing you, driving you mad. “Tell me what you want,” he commanded.

You opened your mouth to speak, to voice the desire that was burning through you with the force of a supernova, but the words caught in your throat. All you could manage was a whimper as your fingers were digging into the cushions, hips arching upwards, instinctively seeking out friction you craved.

You felt like if you couldn't have him, you might die.

“Uh-uh.” His hand reached forward to grab the soft flesh of your tits, one after the other, and his thumb brushed a teasing circle around your nipples, the pressure increasing just enough to make you gasp. "I said, tell me what you want.”

“You,” you confessed, the words torn from your very soul. “For God's sake, I fucking need you.”

John's gaze intensified, his eyes dark, and the corner of his mouth twitched, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. He loomed over you like a predator about to claim his prey. With a growl, he leaned down, pressing his mouth on yours, and you could feel his erection pressing between your folds.

One of his hands shot out, cupping the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair, holding you captive.

“You’re going to get everything you need, love,” he breathed, and followed by his promise, he entered you in a deliberately slow movement, almost torturous. He moaned, so raw and primal, it made you clench around him, and your entire body ignited as he filled you completely. His size, his heat, the intensity of the sensation – it sent your senses into overdrive, causing you to dig your nails into his back.

“Ohhh fuck,” you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper, lost in a world of sensation he'd created with his touch.

He paused, holding himself perfectly still within you, savoring the feel of your body clenching around him and the soft moans escaping your lips.

You whimpered, arching your hips up instinctively, desperate for more, aching for him to erase every thought, every doubt, every worry, with the overwhelming pleasure that throbbed between you.

He chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down your spine, and then he moved. Slowly at first, deliberately drawing out the sensation, his hips rocking against yours, each thrust a slow, agonizingly delicious torture that had you clinging to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your nails leaving trails of fire on his skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice tight with need as he buried himself deeper. “You're so fucking tight – so fucking wet.”

But even in the haze of pleasure, a primal instinct took over. He needed more. He rolled you both over, shifting his weight so that you were straddling his lap, your legs draped over his thighs, your core aligned perfectly with his arousal. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he reached for the hem of your dress, his fingers working quickly, impatiently, to free you from the loosely hanging fabric.

“Now,” his hands found your hips, guiding you closer, his thumbs stroking the sensitive flesh. “Ride me, love.”

You looked down at him, at the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes, the way his chest heaved with each ragged breath, and a surge of confidence, of pure, unadulterated lust, washed over you. You began to move, supporting your weight against him by running your hands through the light fur that dusted his chest.

His hands dug deeper into your skin as you increased the pace, moving faster, harder, riding his cock wildly, completely lost in the pleasure.

Every movement sent jolts of pleasure through you. He watched you, his gaze never leaving your face, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath as if he were hanging onto your every move.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his voice thick with approval. “Like that, love. Ride me hard.”

His words were a primal command, a challenge that sent a thrill through you, making you even bolder, even more daring. You leaned forward and kissed him, biting his lip, drawing a groan from him that resonated deep in your core.

He tasted of salt and desire, the scent of his arousal filling your senses, making you wild. His hands were guiding your movements, matching your intensity, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge of release.

With each thrust, you felt the coil of pleasure tighten inside you, building towards a crescendo that threatened to shatter you both. You moved faster, harder, your body driven by an instinct as old as time itself. His touch was a brand, marking you as his, and the possessive hunger in his eyes as you rode him, almost send you over the edge alone.

He was groaning now, his words a jumble of incoherent pleas and praises, his fingers digging into your flesh as he struggled to maintain control. You felt him tense, the muscles in his thighs and arms bunching beneath your touch, and you knew the storm was about to break.

“Don’t stop,” his voice was raw with need, his gaze burning into you as if he wanted to sear this moment into his soul. “Come for me, love. Let me feel you shatter."

And with one final, earth-shattering thrust, you did.

A shudder ripped through you, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole your breath away. Your walls clenched around him, a thousand tiny sparks of sensation exploding behind your eyelids. Your name tumbled from his lips, a breathless groan, as he held you tighter. You cried out, the sound swallowed by his eager mouth as he captured your lips in a desperate kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you, leaving you trembling, weak, utterly undone.

After you came down from your high, you watched him intently as he was also struggling on the edge of release. Driven by need and desire, you slowly let his cock slip out of you. He made a sound that sounded animalistic, a groan, low and deep in his chest, an expression of frustration. Your hand moved instantly, your fingers finding his length, circling him, stroking him with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. Your fingertips traced a feather-light path up the underside of his shaft, lingering at the sensitive ridge just below the head before gliding back down to the base, your thumb brushing teasingly against the swollen vein that pulsed with his arousal.

His head fell back against the cushions, his eyes closed, a ragged breath escaping his lips as you continued to tease him, your touch the only cure for his aching need. You watched him, mesmerized by the play of muscle beneath your hand, the raw power he embodied even at that moment of vulnerability.

“I can't –” His fingers dug into the cushions, his body tensing as if fighting against the tide of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.

You smiled. The power thrumming between you was intoxicating, addictive. “Can’t what, John?” you whispered, leaning in, your lips trailing a teasing path along the hard planes of his stomach. “Can’t hold back anymore?”

His answer was a strangled groan. His body went rigid, and the wave of pleasure that followed was written all over his face. His hand shot out, not to stop you, but to grip your wrist. His fingers tightened around it, his control started slipping, shattering, as his release washed over him.

You whispered small praises, and watched, fascinated, as his release spurted over your hand in hot, pulsing bursts. His hips were stuttering, his cock, hard, thick in your grasp, throbbed, and the remnants of his release felt warm against your skin. He was completely at your mercy.

You’d never felt this bold, this empowered, this reckless. Before you could overthink it, you raised your hand to your mouth and licked his come off of your fingers.

Your wish to taste him, it couldn’t get any more him than this. Salt, sweat, and something so uniquely his. It made your walls clench around nothing, sending a new wave of excitement through you.

John’s gaze snapped to yours, his eyes wide, a flicker of something dark and possessive flaring in their depths as he watched you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and reached out, his hand resting on your neck, his thumb slowly stroking along your pulse. “You’re something else, you know that, love?”

A nervous giggle escaped your lips. The sudden awareness of your actions, the intimacy of the moment, sent a wave of shyness washing over you. “I, uh,” you trailed off, averting your gaze, unable to meet the intensity burning in his eyes. Your cheeks burned, and you wanted to hide.

John’s hand shifted, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Don't shy away from me now, sweetheart,” he murmured and softly ran his thumbs over your lips. “Not after that.”

“That was –” You struggled to find the words, your thoughts were a mess. “I've never –”

“Never?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek, the scent of him filling your senses, making you dizzy.

“Never been that bold,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to his lips, their fullness suddenly a source of endless fascination. “Or wanted someone so intensely.”

A dark smile spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with triumph and something that sent a delicious thrill through you. “Good,” he growled, the word a low rumble that vibrated through you. “Because you're mine now, love. And I'm not about to let you forget it.”

And then, before you could protest – not that you had any intention of doing so – his lips crashed down on yours. It wasn’t gentle. This kiss was a possession, a claiming, a wildfire consuming everything in its path. His hand shot out to grab your neck, holding you close to him.

This really wasn't pretend anymore.

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