Milo Manheim 🤍

He’s so cutie

No because same

I NEED TO BE INSTITUTIONALIZED

You Belong with Me 💙🏈📖

Part 7

Wally Clark x fem reader Y/N

Summary: It’s the day of yours and Wally’s joint memorial service at school and you see your family for what maybe the last time.

The next few days go in a blur. Mr. Martin is trying to get you to open up about yourself, to share things about yourself and how you are coping. You’re not really. After the dance when the principal mentioned a memorial reality hit like a train. I’m dead. It’s not a dream I’m dead and so is Wally. You are not the only one struggling to talk about yourself in group, Wally is too. He’s shared with you some things, but you can tell he’s holding back maybe the same reason why I am too.

Wednesday arrives it’s the day of your joint memorial service. Teachers and students have been all over the gym setting y up chairs and bringing in flowers. And before you know it, it’s time to start. The other ghosts are already sitting down with you and Wally. The doors open and students and staff pile into the room and then you notice your parents and your sister Mary. They look like they haven’t slept at all, even from a distance you can tell. Mary is quiet which is not like her she’s normally the loud 14-year-old girl who loved horses and music you’ve never seen her sad until now. You don’t even realise but you have been crying ever since your family walked into the gym. Wally sitting beside you puts him arm around you to comfort you. Wally’s parents are next to arrive, and they look just as devastated as your parents. The gym was filled with all your favourite things. Your favourite flowers, books you love, things with your favourite colour and endless photos of you and Wally around. There were footballs and other sports Wally loves, posters of his favourite music groups. All the special things of you and his life around the gym.

The room goes quiet as Mr Smith heads to the stage. “Good morning, everyone, today is going to be tough as we mourn and celebrate the lives of Y/N and Wally Clark. If you could turn your attention to the projection screen, we have made a photo montage of them.” Photos of you and Wally are shared on the screen along with music. Photos of when you two were young all the way up until your last photo together which happened to be 2 days before your deaths. Tears fill your eyes as you run out the room not being able to handle it. it’s your own memorial, you’re not meant to see it but because you are stuck in this ‘in between’ you must witness not only your own pain, but also your family’s and even Wally’s. You leave tears still streaming down your face and air struggling to get to your lungs you just walk as for as your legs will take you before you can’t walk anymore and you drop to the floor, put your head between your hands and bring your knees close to your chest as you sob. 

“Hey Darling.” Wally says as he finds you. He crouches down next to you and puts his arm around you. “Well, I guess it’s my turn to be the mess and be embarrassing. I knew it was going to be hard but that-“ you can’t even finish what you are saying as you choke on your words. You feel a lump at the back on your throat. “It’s ok darling, we can get through this. No one besides the other ghosts the sat through their own memorial before” He whispers. Wally has always called you Darling for as long as you remember but now something makes you feel different. Not in a bad way but maybe in a good way. Before you know it, your memorial is over, and you can see your family in the hall as they make their way to the parking lot. This may be the last time you see your family that is until Mary starts high school, so you follow them, just to be near them. You try to speak to talk to them to let them know you are ok… well okish but they can’t hear you. They get to their car and leave. Overwhelmed with emotions you drop to your knees sobbing uncontrollably. Maybe it was time to try to share and talk about my emotions with group. 

You take minute to stop crying, you and Wally head back inside. “Wally is it ok if I just have some alone time?” you ask as you make your way down to the teachers’ lounge seemingly where all the other ghosts like to hang out. “I don’t like the idea of you being by yourself when you have been in such a state. He replies. “I will be ok, nothing bad is going to happen, I’m already dead. You silently laugh. “At least tell me where you will be so if I need to, I can check on you. Wally responds. You can tell he’s emotional too. “I’ll be in our spot on the roof, I will be ok I just need a minute to myself. You know how I get when I get overwhelmed. Wally nods as he walks to the teachers’ lounge, and you head in the opposite direction. You get to the roof, and you expect yourself to burst into more tears but to your surprise you don’t. you just sit there quietly watch the world go by, something you need to get used to since you don’t know how long you will be trapped here.

Part 6 Part 8

Anxiety 2

summary: prompt fill. on the verge of an anxiety attack, Wally calls in reinforcements. you. the only person in the world who knows exactly what he needs. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. smut lite. flashfic. sub-adjacent!Wally Clark. mild anxiety attack. Wally Clark is a whiny lil' babe when he's desperate.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🍋‍🟩

Anxiety 2

"Hey, pretty boy, you okay?"

Thank fuck you answer on the first ring because, no, Wally isn't okay. His skin is too tight, his lungs won't inflate, he has pins and needles in his blood, and he can't calm down long enough to make his room stop spinning.

"No." It's wrenched out of him.

He lies on his bed, arm over his eyes, trying to breathe. Football practice was hell today, coach giving him a hard time for mistakes another player made like it's Wally's job to shoulder everyone's shortcomings.

"I can't...baby, I need to see you, please," And he knows it's a bad time, but, please, he just needs to feel you long enough to settle his brain for a minute.

Wally hates Tuesdays as much as he does most weekdays. School doesn't help, but you have Art Club and then family dinner and then a whole routine you enjoy mapped out for every Tuesday for forever. Your time. Not for anyone else. And, he swears, he wouldn't interrupt unless it's important.

He hears fabric rustle on the other end of the line before your voice filters through the speaker, "You need me to talk you through it?"

"No." He says, scratchy.

"Do you need me to distract you with a story?"

And he fucking whimpers, because that's not the answer either.

"Do you want me to just stay on the line and you can vent?"

"No, baby, I—" Don't want to tell you how desperate he is for your presence. Needs it like the oxygen he can't seem to suck into his lungs. "Never mind."

You make a noise of disapproval, "Oh, no, Wally, you're not doing that." Then, "Can you do something for me?"

Wally nods although he knows you can't see him.

"Can you get up and go to the bathroom?"

He does, following the order without resistance. He likes it when you order him around, take control so he doesn't have to think. He pads into the bathroom and stands there until you give him the next instruction.

"Good boy," You coo, and it sounds like you're outside now. He can't be sure, doesn't entirely have the capacity to pay attention, so he simply idles with the phone to his ear. "Turn on the water, Wally, nice and warm how you like it."

Again, he does as you order. He knows where this is going. A hot shower to calm his muscles. He sets his phone on the counter and strips. Doesn't hang up, needs to know you're there when he's done, but steps under the spray when steam starts to billow up.

It takes ten minutes before he's able to get out without black spots clouding his vision. His body is relaxed, but his head is still screaming at him to do something, keep busy, figure it out, don't just stand there—

He towels himself off, glances at the screen, and sighs in relief when he sees the call is still connected. In movements loose from a good shower, he lopes back to his room and pulls on a pair of clean boxers. Keeps his words to himself, not ready to talk yet, but makes sure you know he's still there and still needs you.

Just as he reaches for his sweatpants, he hears a knock at the front door. Blinking, he picks up his phone from his dresser to check the time.

Your voice through the phone, "You gonna let me in, cutie?"

Instantly, the remaining tension in his body releases. He hurries down the stairs two at a time, unsafe and unconcerned because you're there. Coming to the rescue. Showing up for him despite the meal he knows you're supposed to have with your parents in half an hour.

He swings the door open and yanks you into his body, holds you tight against his chest with his face in your neck.

"Thank you," He murmurs, tight, a little froggy.

Taking charge, you push him back inside and close the door behind you, grabbing his hand in yours to lead him back upstairs to his bedroom. Without so much as a hello, you get to work, shoving him into his desk chair while you set about changing his sheets.

No words are exchanged the whole time. He waits for you to finish, watches through desperate, puppysoft eyes, knee bouncing, as you strip to your underwear and t-shirt, and fold back the newly made cover.

You turn, smiling sweetly, give him a wink that signals he can get himself all over you now. He doesn't hesitate, crowds against your back when you turn around to face the bed, about to crawl in. He grabs you by the hips, pulls your ass back into the cradle of his pelvis, and has his lips on your neck so fast, it's like your skin is magnetized and his mouth is made of nickel.

"Silly boy," You breathe, melting into him, tilting your head to give him more access. "You couldn't wait until I got you into bed?"

Wally shakes his head against your neck, "Mm-mm," and continues to dot kisses along the tendon, all the way up to just below your ear. "Missed you too much," Even though he saw you right before football practice.

"Come on," You say, "Get in."

And he does as he's told. Pauses to let you climb in first, shuffle over to what he's designated as your side, under the covers and holding them up to invite him in beside you. He shuffles right into your space, arm fastened around your waist, head pillowed on your chest, breathing easier than he has in hours now that he can smell you, feel you, hear your heartbeat under his ear.

Your hand finds his hair, still damp from the shower. Fingers comb his scalp while you press little kisses along his hairline, forehead, temple. The last bit of anxiety dissipates under your attention, and finally, Wally can relax.

"You okay?" You whisper, hand stroking his back now.

He nods against you, nudges your jaw with his nose, silently requesting a kiss which you give him with a tender smile.

"You wanna have a nap?"

Wally thinks about it, realizes that, no, he isn't ready to sleep. Even for a short span, his brain isn't quiet enough. There's still a thread of restlessness under his skin he can't quite shake loose. He pouts at you, shakes his head, looking for all the world like a lost little boy who needs taking care of.

A knowing smile spreads on your face. You lean down and kiss him. Gentle. Soft. Innocent if Wally didn't know you better.

"Get on your back, baby," You tell him, already shifting.

He goes, breath hitching, cheeks heating, anticipating where you're going to go with this. You push his legs apart and settle between them, a gleam in your eye that ushers an almost soundless gasp from his throat. Hooking your fingers into his boxers, you peel them off his long legs and get back into position.

"You need me to take care of you?" You ask, serene, as if asking whether or not he wants a foot rub and not his cock sucked. "You want me to make your brain quiet, pretty boy?"

Wally nods, one, two curt movements, lips parting around a whimper as his eyes fall to half-mast. He watches you lick your lips, bow forward so beautifully that he wishes he could bottle an image, and then he feels you.

A long, wet stripe of your tongue along his flaccid cock before you take it in hand and lazily begin to stroke, your eyes intense and holding his.

Conversationally, "You want me to choke on you, baby?"

And, fuck. God. His mind short-circuits, goes totally offline for a moment that he doesn't even realize he answers with a punched-out, "Please."

"Lie down, baby, let me take care of you."

Then it's all hot, wet, tight. Sloppy at first, how he likes it. You use a firm grip to stroke in countermotion of your mouth, your tongue teasing the slit and the underside of his cockhead.

"Oh, fuck," He pants, legs spreading wider, the meat of his palms digging into his sockets as he tries not to come in under a minute. He wants to enjoy this, honest, but, fuck, you do that thing with your fist at the tip while sucking his balls and he can't fucking see.

You chuckle, sultry and smooth, then descend again, taking him in your throat and swallowing around him, moaning, kneading his inner thighs and massaging his balls gently with your thumbs until he starts choking out weak little sounds of pleasure.

"Oh God," He gasps wetly, "I'm gonna come, baby, oh fuck!"

But you don't let him, sliding off and rising to your knees. He whines, partially in frustration, partially desperation; both soon quelled when he feels the humid heat of your pussy hovering above him. You line him up, tease him through your folds.

"Want you to finish inside me, baby," You command, and then drop. Taking him in one swift movement that knocks a grunt right from his belly.

He clamps his hands on your hips and groans as you start to ride him, fast, not for your pleasure but his, giving him everything because you're amazing, oh God, you're perfect, so perfect, he can't—Jesus, he can't—oh fuck!

Wally comes with a strained sob of ecstasy, fingers digging into your flesh, eyes clenched shut, and head tipped back; cock pulsing inside you as he releases.

In the soft afterglow, he goes completely pliant, arms falling to his sides. He blinks up at you in awe, sleepy suddenly, brain emitting nothing but static. He gives you a lopsided smile that you return with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Pet his hair and roll to the side onto your back, encouraging him to cuddle into you like he was earlier.

Head on your chest again, he sighs in satisfaction, his leg hooked over your thighs as he clings to you like a limpet so you can't get away.

"Thank you, baby," He murmurs. "You're the best."

He hears you hum in acknowledgement. "You gonna nap for a bit now?"

He nods, trying to burrow deeper into your arms. The safest place in the world, he thinks, after how many times your embrace has saved him from himself.

"You want me to wake you up before I go?"

A noise of protest, his arm tightening around your waist.

You giggle, "You want me to sleep here tonight?"

He doesn't have to say anything for you to know his answer.

Not even a minute later, he's snoring softly, totally content and at peace with you in his bed.

🍋‍🟩___________fin.____________

Anxiety

also on AO3!

Order Up! MASTERLIST

if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Simp..

a silly little subby Wally drabble because our clingy boo is fun to write.

So I’m rewatching school spirits and I’m up to season 2 episode 7 and I didn’t realise the first time when I watched the episode (mostly because I was still reeling from seeing Wally’s butt while I almost chocked on my lunch 😅) how beautiful the scene was between Maddie and Wally. Like the song choices and the setting ugh so beautiful and Wally wanting Maddie to stay 😭😭😭 that time I cried.

I know he’s a fictional character but Wally has really set the bar high when it comes to boyfriend expectations.

it takes and it takes,,,

Bro is giving 🤨

Might fuck around and write a Wally fanfic. How do you like the sound of that?

Milo Manheim 🤍

Cosmopolitan - Expensive Taste Test (2025)

No broke boys

pairing: milo mannheim x f! reader

It was supposed to be a casual night out. The workweek had been long, and someone suggested heading to a club to blow off steam. The team didn’t need much convincing. Now, the bass of the music thrummed through the air as Milo leaned against the bar, sipping his drink and surveying the vibrant scene before him.

His eyes naturally found Y/N across the room. She was laughing with a couple of the girls from work, her head thrown back, carefree and radiant. Milo had always thought she was beautiful impossibly so but tonight, there was something different about her. She looked electric under the neon lights, her confidence and charm drawing people in without her even trying.

The opening notes of Freek-A-Leek by Petey Pablo hit the speakers, and the atmosphere in the club shifted. A chorus of excited cheers rippled through the crowd, and Y/N’s group of friends squealed, pulling her toward the dance floor.

Milo’s gaze followed her automatically. He couldn’t look away.

Y/N swayed her hips to the beat, her movements fluid and magnetic as she let the music take over. Her long hair cascaded down her back, swinging in time with her hips. The way she moved was mesmerizing confident, sensual, and completely unbothered by the crowd of people around her. She dipped low, her body gliding toward the floor effortlessly, before rising again with a sultry roll of her hips. Her hands ran up her thighs, trailing over the curve of her waist, and settled just below her ribs as she twisted to the beat.

Milo swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Damn,” his friend muttered next to him, nudging his shoulder. “You’re staring hard, bro. Didn’t know Y/N could move like that, huh?”

Milo’s eyes didn’t leave her. “Me either,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “She’s…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to snap himself out of a spell. But it was no use. His gaze was locked on Y/N, every move of her body sending a jolt of heat through him.

Y/N, ever perceptive, noticed him watching. She shot him a sly smile over her shoulder before returning her attention to the music. If she hadn’t been sure of Milo’s interest before, she was now. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable, and she decided to have a little fun with it.

She ran her hands down her sides, teasingly slow, and let them linger over her hips. Her fingers traced over the curves of her body, as if she were savoring her own touch. She swayed closer to the center of the dance floor, tossing her hair over her shoulder, the strands catching the light. Her movements grew even bolder, her hips rolling in time with the beat, dipping low again just for good measure.

Milo groaned softly, barely audible over the music. His drink was forgotten on the bar, his hands gripping the edge as he tried to steady himself. She was driving him crazy, and she knew it.

“Man, you’re toast,” his friend teased. “Just go talk to her already.”

Milo didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The only thought in his head was how badly he wanted to get closer to Y/N.

When the song ended, she sauntered off the dance floor, her confidence radiating as she made her way back toward the bar. She stopped just in front of Milo, her lips curling into a playful smile.

“Enjoy the show?” she teased, tilting her head slightly.

Milo raised an eyebrow, leaning closer so she could hear him over the music. “You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” His voice was low, almost a growl, and the intensity in his dark eyes made her pulse race.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said innocently, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her.

Milo smirked, stepping closer until there was barely an inch between them. “Oh, you know,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “You’re trouble, Y/N.”

“And you love it,” she shot back, her voice laced with flirtation.

His gaze dropped to her lips, then back up to her eyes. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted. “But don’t think I’m letting you get away with driving me crazy like that.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile growing. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Milo chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe her audacity. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he promised, his voice a delicious mix of challenge and desire.

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “I’ll be waiting.”

With that, she pulled back and walked away, leaving him standing there, captivated and craving more.

The club was alive with pounding music and flashing lights, the air thick with energy. Milo had been enjoying himself, leaning into the carefree vibe of the night. Somewhere between his second drink and laughing with their coworkers, a girl a petite brunette with big, flirty eyes grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the dance floor.

Milo hesitated for a moment but relented. It wasn’t a big deal. Just dancing, he told himself. Besides, Y/N had been busy talking to their coworkers at the bar, not sparing him much attention.

The girl moved closer, her hips swaying to the rhythm as she faced him, pressing herself into him without hesitation. She slid her hands up his chest, her movements bold and fluid. Milo matched her energy, his hands hovering politely at her waist as she turned around and began grinding against him.

From the bar, Y/N caught sight of him. Her gaze locked on Milo, her lips parting slightly in surprise as she took in the scene. The flashing lights of the club illuminated his face, and though he wasn’t outright smiling, his easygoing confidence radiated through his body language.

Milo met Y/N’s eyes across the distance, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. The corner of his mouth twitched, and it almost looked like he was daring her to react.

Y/N arched an eyebrow, her annoyance bubbling just beneath the surface. She raised her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip, never breaking eye contact with him. Then, in a dramatic display of indifference, she rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar, tossing her hair over her shoulder with purpose.

Milo couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that move too well she was pissed, no doubt about it.

But then, Y/N did something he hadn’t expected. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her leave the bar, her hips swaying in that hypnotic way they always did when she wanted to make a statement. She made her way across the club toward the entrance, where the bouncer stood a massive, intimidating man who seemed to command the room without even trying.

Milo’s attention snapped to her fully. He didn’t even notice the girl grinding against him anymore. His focus was solely on Y/N as she sauntered up to the bouncer, a sly smile on her lips. She said something to him, leaning in close, her hand lightly brushing his arm.

Milo’s jaw tightened.

The bouncer chuckled, clearly enjoying her attention. He leaned down to hear her better, and Y/N laughed at whatever he said, her hand playfully tapping his chest.

Milo’s chest burned with something hot and unrelenting. Jealousy clawed at his throat as he watched the bouncer slide his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her closer. Then, as if to twist the knife, Y/N tilted her face up to him, her lips curling into a flirtatious smile before leaning in for a kiss.

It wasn’t a shy kiss. It was bold, teasing, and unapologetic.

The girl dancing on Milo turned to face him, clearly expecting his attention, but Milo was done. He stepped back abruptly, leaving her confused on the dance floor as he made a beeline for Y/N and the bouncer. His strides were purposeful, his dark eyes locked on the scene unfolding before him.

When he reached them, he didn’t hesitate. “Alright, enough,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the noise.

Y/N pulled back from the kiss, her eyes glinting with mischief as she turned to face him. “Problem?” she asked, her tone as sweet as sugar but dripping with defiance.

Milo ignored her question, his gaze flickering to the bouncer. “Move,” he ordered, his voice low and full of authority.

The bouncer smirked, clearly entertained, but he let his hands fall from Y/N’s body and stepped back. “She’s all yours, man.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at Milo. “What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem?” Milo shot back, his frustration spilling over. “You’re over here making out with the bouncer just to piss me off.”

“And you were getting grinded on by another girl,” Y/N countered, stepping closer to him. “What, only you get to have fun?”

Milo groaned, running a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t like that. You know it wasn’t like that.”

“Do I?” she challenged, her voice rising slightly.

“Yes,” he snapped, his eyes blazing as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. “You do, Y/N. You know damn well you’re the only one I want.”

Her breath hitched, but she quickly masked it with a smirk. “Then maybe you should start acting like it.”

Milo stared at her for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to collect his thoughts. Then, without another word, he pulled her flush against him and crashed his lips onto hers, pouring every ounce of frustration, desire, and unspoken emotion into the kiss.

Y/N melted into him almost instantly, her hands fisting the fabric of his shirt as the tension between them finally broke. When they pulled apart, both of them breathless, Milo leaned down, his lips brushing her ear.

“Never again,” he murmured, his voice rough but commanding. “You’re mine, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

Her lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Only if you’re mine too.”

Milo grinned, his hand slipping to the small of her back as he pulled her in for another kiss. “Always.”

The walk back to Y/N’s apartment was supposed to be uneventful, but the moment she stumbled slightly in her heels, Milo was quick to notice.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he said, stopping in his tracks.

“I’m fine,” Y/N argued, but her wince as she shifted her weight betrayed her.

Milo gave her a pointed look, then crouched slightly in front of her. “Get on,” he ordered, gesturing for her to hop onto his back.

“Milo—”

“No arguing, baby,” he interrupted, smirking as he glanced over his shoulder. “Your feet are killing you, and I’m not about to let you suffer. Now, come on.”

Rolling her eyes but secretly touched by his gesture, Y/N finally relented, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he effortlessly hoisted her up. She laughed softly, resting her chin on his shoulder as he carried her down the street toward her apartment.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she teased, her voice warm.

Milo chuckled, his hands gripping her thighs securely. “Yeah, but you love it.”

She didn’t respond, but the way she tightened her hold on him said enough.

When they finally reached her door, Milo set her down gently, his hands lingering on her hips as she unlocked the door. The moment they stepped inside, the tension between them was palpable.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Y/N said softly, turning to face him.

Milo shrugged, his gaze darkening as it swept over her. “I wanted to. You deserve to be taken care of.”

The air between them shifted, heat simmering just beneath the surface. Y/N stepped closer, her fingers brushing against the front of his shirt as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“And what else do I deserve?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Milo’s jaw clenched, his hands sliding to her waist as he pulled her flush against him. “You really wanna know?”

“Tell me,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his.

“I think I’d rather show you,” he murmured, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, both of them pouring everything they’d been holding back into it. Milo backed her against the nearest wall, his hands exploring her body as her fingers tangled in his hair.

“God, you drive me insane,” he muttered against her lips, his voice rough with desire.

Y/N smirked, nipping at his bottom lip. “Good. Now you know how I feel.”

Milo groaned, his lips trailing down her neck as he pressed her harder against the wall. “You’re gonna pay for teasing me tonight,” he growled, his hands sliding up her thighs and under her dress.

“Promises, promises,” she teased, but her breath hitched

Milo stepped closer.

“You gonna let me take care of you tonight?” he asked, his voice low and laced with intent.

Y/N met his gaze, her heart pounding as she nodded. “What do you have in mind?”

Milo didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the distance between them, his hands cradling her face as he kissed her deeply. The kiss was slow at first, deliberate, but quickly grew more passionate, his hands moving to her waist and pulling her against him.

“Milo,” she whispered breathlessly when they broke apart.

“Shh,” he murmured, brushing his lips along her jawline. “Let me show you how much I’ve wanted this how much I’ve wanted you.”

He scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him again, her body already heating under his touch.

Gently, he laid her on the bed, hovering over her as his dark eyes roamed her face. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he said softly, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.

Her heart swelled at his words, and she pulled him down to her, their lips meeting in another fiery kiss. His hands explored her body, sliding up her thighs and beneath her dress, his touch igniting a trail of fire along her skin.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he admitted, his voice husky as his lips trailed down her neck. “The way you moved on that dance floor…you had no idea what you were doing to me.”

“Oh, I knew,” she teased, her breath hitching as his hands worked their way up her sides, pushing her dress higher.

Milo smirked, his lips brushing against her ear. “You like teasing me, huh?”

“Maybe,” she replied, her voice light but filled with desire.

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding the straps of her dress off her shoulders. “Careful, baby. I’m not the type to let you get away with it.”

“What are you going to do about it?” she challenged, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Milo’s gaze darkened, and his response was a low growl as he captured her lips again, his movements more demanding. He took his time undressing her, savoring every inch of her as if committing her to memory.

The night unfolded in a blur of passion and tenderness. Milo worshipped her body with his hands and lips, whispering soft praises between heated kisses.

“You feel so perfect,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N arched beneath him, her fingers gripping his shoulders as he moved with her, their bodies perfectly in sync. “Milo,”she gasped, her voice trembling with pleasure.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers as their breaths mingled. “Say my name again,” he commanded softly, his lips brushing hers.

“Milo,” she repeated, her voice filled with need.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her closer. “You’re mine tonight. All mine.”

Their movements grew more frantic, the room filled with whispered words and soft moans. And when they finally reached their peak, Milo held her tightly, his lips pressed to her temple as he murmured sweet nothings into her ear.

As they lay tangled together afterward, Milo brushed a strand of hair from her face, his eyes soft as he gazed at her.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he said quietly.

Y/N smiled, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “I could say the same about you.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re trouble, Y/N. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She laughed softly, her head resting on his shoulder. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else,” he replied, pulling her closer as the night stretched on.