Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

We walked in silence, his eyes burning into my back the entire time. I could feel it.

After a bit of walking, we stopped in front of a door. I was about to walk past it, but he reached out, stopping me with a light touch before opening it.

It was a private lounge. Dim lighting, expensive furniture, the kind of place where deals were made, secrets exchanged, and probably a lot of questionable shit went down. Fancy.

He motioned for me to sit, and I did, right on the leather couch. He poured two drinks, handing me one before settling next to me, way too fucking close.

I leaned in a little, just enough to make sure he got a good view of my cleavage.

Oh, he noticed.

I caught the way his eyes dropped for a split second before he licked his lips. Predictable.

"So," I said, my voice smooth, dragging out the moment. "Why are we here?"

He let out a sigh, swirling the drink in his glass. "Y/N, I don't want you to hate me."

I paused, giving him a slow, unimpressed look. "I don't hate you," I said, then smiled. "I despise you."

That made him chuckle. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something dark. "That's why you kissed me back?"

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink. "Yeah, because if you weren't such a dickhead, I'd actually consider hooking up with you."

His eyebrow lifted, interest flickering across his face. "What's stopping you now?"

I let out a sharp laugh. "Do you want me to list every fucking reason? I could make a list. Actually, I should make a list."

He chuckled, leaning in slightly. Then, to my fucking surprise, he reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear.

"Oh, Y/N," he murmured. His voice was low. And then he said, "You're my dearest punishment."

We held eye contact, the air between us thick. His leg pressed against mine. His fingers, slow and deliberate, skimmed up my bare thigh, just enough to make my breath hitch.

I grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand away. "You shouldn't be touching me."

He didn't look the least bit fazed. "But I crave you, Y/N."

I smirked, leaning in closer, so close our lips almost brushed. I felt his breath, saw the way his eyes darkened, his gaze flicking down to my mouth.

Then, just as he was about to move in, I whispered, "Too bad."

And I pulled away.

Like nothing even happened.

I picked up my drink and took a sip, pretending I didn't just leave him there, staring at me like a desperate man.

He exhaled through his nose, staring at the drink in his hand like it had the answers to whatever thoughts were running through his head. Then, after a moment, he muttered,

"Y/N, I think about you so much it's actually fucking disgusting."

I raised an eyebrow, setting my glass down on the table. "Is that so?"

He let out a low chuckle, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "You don't leave my mind for a second."

I tilted my head slightly, my gaze flickering down. To the revolver in his holster. "Then maybe you should kill me."

That got his attention.

His expression didn't change, but I saw the slight tensing of his jaw, the way his eyes darkened just a little more. His fingers absentmindedly grazed over the holster, like he hadn't even realized I was looking there until now.