#But here followers. Eat what crumbs I give

[adhdbisexualramblings]

Little snippet of a story maybe?

“I’m your friend, Zim. I swear,” Membrane whispered, hands reaching out in case Zim might try to flee or his panic rose to dangerous levels. Zim stuttered with tears, the weight of the situation getting to him in the span of a second. He - he had killed his Tallest. And it - it might have been intentional, he didn’t know. His mind was all sorts of messed up these days, filling his meatbrain with things he didn’t remember.

“Friend,” he scoffed, not out of anger or, Irk forbid, hatred, “friends aren’t - Tallest aren’t friends.” Membrane sighed quietly and moved from his knees to letting his legs bunch up in front of him so he was lower.

“Zim, we talked about this, remember? I’m not a Tallest,” his words brought Zim an odd warmth, which he failed to banish from his chest. Perhaps it was the voice, so welcoming and gentle, in a way he’d never heard it before, “...Do you mind if I carry you?”

Zim made a noise, “What, like a smeet?” He was no smeet, and surely not any weaker than one to warrant being held. Irkens were not meant to be held.

“Yes, like a smeet,” he didn’t seem to understand how weak and helpless a smeet was, especially one that had to be held, “...I think it’ll help. You certainly look like you need it.” Zim looked like he wanted to protest, and he did start trying, but the words got caught in his throat when he looked up at the professor and caught his gaze. He couldn’t see his eyes, or his nose, or anything about him. Professor Membrane was always hidden, even from his own children. Yet, here, in the dim kitchen light, he looked worried. He looked worried for…for Zim. No one had ever been truly worried for Zim, as far as he could remember. That look was for him only. Like he was big enough to have a look all to himself.

“...OK.” He whispered, voice uncharacteristically small. Membrane was careful to go slow, inching closer and opening his arms invitingly. Zim bit his lip and hesitantly uncurled, crawling on all fours to the professor. He set himself down on his lap, just inside range of his arms. The professor told him he would pick him up, then did so. His arms wrapped around Zim carefully, one supporting his bottom and the other resting on his back, careful of his PAK. Zim’s face was smushed against his shoulder as he was forced to wrap the length of his arms around the professor’s neck to keep himself steady. His initial reaction was panic, panic, panic, get out, get out, you’re under attack, he’s choking you, leaving you vulnerable, he said he wasn’t like Dib, how, why did you listen to him-

He was shifted quickly so that Membrane could keep his grip and stiffened, eyes wide. Membrane seemed to sense his discomfort and kneaded his knuckles into Zim’s back gently.

“You’re alright. I’m sorry, I should have warned you,” I’m sorry. Words uncharacteristic of a Tallest. Tallest were never supposed to apologize. Zim scolded himself. Membrane was hardly a Tallest. He wasn’t even close to the genius, the power and respect a Tallest deserved. And yet…

His PAK seemed to think something else.

“No, I -” I was rightfully terrified? I’m messed up? I know you didn’t mean it but my PAK’s saying you did? Zim gave up and forced himself to relax his body. “I - I’m…sorry I got…” he couldn’t finish.

“Oh, none of that, Zim. I should have warned you. It won’t happen again. I’m going to rock you a bit. Is that alright with you?” Tallest never asked if those below them were ‘alright’ with anything. His Tallest flew into his Florpus hole because they didn’t change directions. The comms officers on The Massive were crafty, Zim admitted. It was likely they had tried to…to steer his Tallest…away…

“Zim?”

“...”

“Is my rocking you OK?” Zim nodded absently, eyes staring ahead, unblinking. The professor’s coat was warm in contrast to Zim’s always-freezing skin. His gloved claws gripped his coat and Professor Membrane’s hair tickled Zim’s face. It didn’t bother him.

As he was bounced gently, slowly at first, he repeated, like a mantra, “Tallest don’t hurt you, Tallest don’t hurt you, Tallest don’t hurt you, Tallest don’t-”

A song-like vibration of the throat made an antenna flick. Membrane was humming quietly, the only sound other than the almost-silent clicking and thrumming of Zim’s PAK. It was a childish tune. Still, it was…steady. Something to hang onto. The whirring of Zim’s PAK lowered as he shut his eyes, successfully leaving himself at pure vulnerability. Membrane continued humming and bouncing him, and Zim absently noted, from the sounds of steps, he was pacing the living room in a short line.

After he doesn’t know how long (his PAK should keep a time log. Why isn’t it?), the professor stopped. Stopped pacing, anyhow. Zim felt a stab of disappointment, then one of slight fear, then one last one of anger, belittling him for being disappointed at something so stupid. Of course it had to end eventually. He couldn’t stay in the professor’s arms forever. Maybe he’d gotten tired of him, finally. Zim wouldn’t blame him.

“Are you asleep?” His whisper came as a surprise. Zim opened his eyes automatically. Irkens had no need for sleep, and the fact the professor was proposing he could even sleep was preposterous.

“Irkens do not need sleep.” He didn’t mean to clip his voice, or to say it so loudly, likely breaking the calm silence they had made. He winced when the professor did not continue his rocking. Zim had made his Tallest upset. He would be punished for raising his voice, surely. Speaking against his leader was a crime.

“...Ah. Noted,” he still didn’t continue, to Zim’s aching fear. He - he had upset him. He had to make it right. He had to - complete the mission given, had to - harm himself - let his squeedlyspooch burst at his direction. He would put his life on the line to serve his Tallest. Tell me what to do, tell me who to hurt, tell me to do anything, command me - “Zim, you’re getting panicked again. Are you alright? Do you feel sick at all?” Sick? At all? Zim’s entire PAK was sick. The Control Brains had told him, said he was Defective. His Tallest said he was Defective. Nothing more than a short, Defective little weakling of a soldier whose first words couldn’t be more broken. He had barely gotten past Invader training with his life and respect. He had called his Tallest once, when his sickly PAK couldn’t heal him. They had laughed with him. But nothing had been funny. Nothing about his PAK failing him was anything to laugh about. They had laughed with him. With him. With him. With him. With him. With. With. At. At. At. At. At him. The Tallest laugh at him.

“Zim-”

His throat clogged with acid and he realized a second too late the vomit and bile spitting from his mouth. He coughed and retched, spasming as his spooch disdainfully emptied itself.

He was whimpering pathetically, hot tears shocking him, "I didn' mean it, 'm sorry, 'm sorry - I'm sorry, I - I - 'm sorry, my T - Tall - Talles' - Tallest, I'll clean it - up, I swear -'' his breathing was too loud. He was breathing too heavily. His throat burned. His face burned. Everything burned. His body spasmed and pulsed with sick. He swallowed breath stupidly, and they laughed with him, laughed at him, at his pathetic excuse of a mission. He wasn't even a real invader, oh Irk -

"Zim, you do not need to clean it up. I am not upset. You just got sick. That's it. It happens." Not for an Irken. Never for an Irken. A superior race taken down by nothing more than a little vomit. How stupid was this? How stupid was he? No one believes Defectives. The Tallest knew he'd done it on purpose. He would be taken to the Control Brains and deactivated for real this time. Not like that fake-out trial that had been all a joke-

"I didn't mean it, my Tallest. I didn't-" he gasped, chest heaving while he tried to suck in breath. He had done it again. It had happened again. They'd found his broken spots, and now he'd gone and ruined everything. There is always something wrong with him. Everything was always wrong with him. He ruined something good again.

“I know you didn’t mean it, Zim. Let’s go clean up now, hm?” A part of his brain told him that language was demeaning. He was not a smeet. He was not. The tears streaming down his face and the lack of control meant nothing. He was not a smeet. He’d stopped being one ages ago.

As his body shook with stupid sobs, he felt smaller. He didn’t want to feel small. Small meant weak. He was set on the bathtub edge. Membrane quietly dug through the bottom cabinet and ripped a few paper towels from a roll. He kneeled in front of Zim and reached out slowly, towel in hand, no doubt to wipe the disgusting vomit from his mouth and chin. Zim’s mind ran to catch up and he snatched the towel.

“I can do it myself,” it wasn’t said with much pride. Membrane noticed it was practically a whine. Zim took the towel shakily and roughly rubbed it across his face. He got very little of the throw up. The professor fixed him with a look Zim couldn’t place. He held out his hand expectantly. Zim stared at him, not really seeing him.

“...Please?” Membrane asked. Zim stared down at the towel, then handed it over. “Thank you, Zim.” Zim said nothing as the vomit was wiped off gently and the towel was thrown in the trash. When the professor stood, his knees cracked, though he either hid his discomfort well, or it didn’t hurt at all. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for the night, don’t you think?” He asked rhetorically.

[celaenaeiln]

At the dining table for breakfast

Jason: Heh.

Jason: Hahahaha.

Jason: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Bruce: *raising the newspaper up higher*

Alfred: *placidly pouring coffee into Bruce’s mug* Did something interesting happen, Master Jason?

Jason: Alfred, I am about to have the perfect surprise for that bony a-Tim. The perfect surprise for Tim.

Alfred: *putting away the bar of soap he pulled out of nowhere* Is that so? Please do be careful not to make a mess here. The waxing was just done in the dining room.

Jason: No problem, in fact-

Tim: *entering sluggishly*

Jason: In fact…in…fact…Megamind, what are you doing here?

Tim: ……..hm?

Jason: What are you doing here?

Tim: eating??

Jason: You-why are you coming from the right side bathroom-weren’t you going to use the upstairs one on the left?

Tim: oh. Dick was already in it so I decided to use the other one.

Jason: what.

Tim: what.

Jason: No. Hahahahaha. You’re joking…nononono-god, Tim, WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID?

Tim: ????????

Jason: You-

Dick’s voice thundering from a floor away: JASON!!!!

Jason: *staring blankly then running forward and smacking Tim on the head* It’s all your fault!

Tim who hasn’t slept or had coffee or know why something he doesn’t know about is his fault: ???? WHAT DID I DO?!

Jason: *running past and leaping out the window* See you later, losers. Bye, Alf.

Disappearing seconds before a blur of wet skin, white towel, and neon pink hair rushes past and follows him out the window.

Tim:

Bruce:

Tim: ……Did you have breakfast yet?

Bruce: …….Hrmgh.

Alfred: *tutting* I just had the floors done. Master Bruce, would you mind redoing them? I’m afraid I must catch the mailman before he gives treats to Titus again. He’s leaving crumbs all over the entrance.

Bruce: What about Ti-

Bruce: *glancing back to see a lone leaf float in and drop slowly to the ground*

Bruce: ………

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part three

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 17.9k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part three!! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D  PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

NEED TO CATCH UP? here’s a link to the fic masterlist :)

The following morning you’re bustling about, trying to clean up after your guests from last night, when your doorbell rings.

Confused, you head to your front door and peek through the peephole, your confusion only building as you open the door to a brightly smiling Haechan.

“Good morning!” Haechan chirps, and you blink at him in confusion.

“Good morning,” you answer suspiciously. 

“I brought you an iced chai,” he says, bringing it out from where he was holding it behind his back. “And a croissant, if you want one?” 

“Aw, wait, really?” you ask, pleasantly surprised. “Why?” you follow up immediately, scrutinizing him. 

“Because I figured you might want something to drink and snack on?” he replies slowly, confused. 

“Oh.” You do. “I do.” you confirm, reaching forward to take the food from his hands. “Thank you.” Your words are sincere, and by the slightly bashful edge to his smile, Haechan can tell.

“I also came to help you clean up.” he announces proudly. 

“Really?” you question, puzzled. “Why?” you ask again, even more confused.

“I figured you’d like help.” he answers with a shrug.

“Oh.” You would. “I would.” 

He blinks at you. “So are you going to let me in?”

“Oh, right! Come in,” you laugh, ushering him into your apartment and shutting the door behind him.

“By the way, eat that quickly or hide it, because I forgot to get something for Yunjin and I don’t want her to get mad at me.” he urges as he kicks his shoes off.

“Copy that.” you snicker in amusement. “Well, what’s compelling you to be so helpful and thoughtful today?”

“Trying to make a good impression,” he answers simply, looking over his shoulder at you as he heads toward your living room. “Oh, it’s really not that bad.” he notes, both surprised and relieved, and you smile in mild amusement.

“Well, yes, I already started.” you laugh, handing him your garbage bag. “Here, take this one, and I’ll get a new one.” 

He complies and starts picking up garbage; napkins, cups, the like. Meanwhile, you’re sweeping crumbs into the dustpan before you become acutely aware of Haechan’s eyes on your ass. 

You straighten up and put your hands on your hips, shooting Haechan a stern look.

“Haechan.” 

“Mm?” His eyes drift up to meet your gaze.

“Stop staring at my ass.” 

He arches an eyebrow. “So I can eat your ass—”

“Haechan!”

“But I can’t stare at it a little?” He meets your incredulous stare with a challenging expression.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why? You don’t want Yunjin to hear how I made you cum all over my tongue last night?” he teases in a hushed murmur.

You attempt to hide the way your knees almost buckle. “No, and you don’t, either! That would ruin everything.” you insist, and he rolls his eyes.

“Why?” he questions, and you give him a disapproving glance. 

“Think, Haechan.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“I just think—”

“Haechan?”

He sighs in defeat. “Yes?”

“Change the topic or leave my apartment.”

He frowns at you, sighing loudly, before raising his hands in surrender. It’s quiet for a bit, the only sounds being you two cleaning up before he breaks the silence.

“So, did you like my costume last night?” he asks casually.

“It was, um, out of the box for sure.” you reply carefully with a little giggle that slips out.

He pouts at you. “Is that a no?”

You can’t contain your now building laughter. “Yes, it’s a no.”

He huffs petulantly, shoving a red Solo cup into his trash bag more forcefully than normal as you giggle to yourself. “Maybe I should have dressed up as a cowboy so you could ride me.” He hums suggestively, and your breath catches in your throat, making you cough and hack before desperately sucking in gulps of air.

“Hell is probably hotter than that costume you had on yesterday, by the way.” you warn in a hoarse voice, crossing around the couch to take a sip of the iced chai latte he brought you, and he shrugs.

“Doubt it.” He leans over the back of the couch so he’s blocking your way. “If I was a cowboy, would you wear my hat?” he breathes, wild eyes gazing at your lips with a hunger that half unnerves you and half thrills you. “Hm? Let me use my lasso to tie you up?”

“Haechan–”

“Bet you’d look so pretty like that,” he grunts breathlessly, and you take a nervous sip of your drink, swallowing thickly.

How in the hell is he pulling you with a costume he’s not even wearing?

and it’s me and you, no she tryna be all through your sheets

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re not even the tiniest bit into it.”

“Into what? Bondage?”

He gives you a look. “No.”

“Cowboys?”

“Are you messing with me or do I need to spell it out clearly for you?”

You shrug. “Try spelling it.” As you turn to walk away, he catches your wrist and tugs until you’re stumbling towards him once more. He cups your chin in his palm and holds firmly so you can’t tug away easily. 

“You want me to spell it?” he murmurs. “I want you. I want you right now, and I didn't come all the way here to dance around the conversation. So I'm gonna kiss you. if you want me to stop, just—slap me or something.” he says in a rushed string of words before connecting your lips in a searing, passionate kiss.

have you all on top of me actin’ like it’s not that deep

To your embarrassment, you all but melt into his touch, whimpering into the kiss as he adjusts his hold on your chin to pull you closer. When you two part, his eyes are still wild and trained on you but darting around your face. 

“What are you looking at?” you ask, amused.

“You,” he answers breathlessly. “You didn’t slap me.”

“Figured you might be into that shit,” you murmur, gazing up at him with a wry smile. 

“Bullshit,” he chuckles, pulling you closer. “You liked that kiss.”

“Maybe a little bit.” you admit. “Why? You gonna snitch on me?”

“Nah,” he assures you. “I am gonna do it again though.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Right here,” he announces before kissing you again. “And here,” he murmurs before attaching his lips to your neck and sucking gently. When you whimper and clutch at his shirt, he grins and laps over the patch of skin before pulling back. “And if you’re feeling nice, maybe I'll get to kiss you here.” He trails his fingers down your front until they’re dipping into the front of your underwear and shorts. He tugs at the waistband teasingly, pretending to peek inside, and giggles when you swat his hand away. “C’mon, baby, be nice to me.” he purrs, and something in you quivers with desire. 

“Haechan,” you whine dazedly, and he kisses you again, grinning against your lips.

“Are you gonna be nice to me?” he asks teasingly, and you groan in agitation.

“Kiss me.” you reply stubbornly, and he chuckles.

“Is this you being nice?” 

“Kiss me and you’ll see how nice I can be.” you urge, and he raises an eyebrow before connecting your lips again. The kiss deepens almost instantly, with you leaning forward when he pulls back slightly, and his surprised moan is enough to spur you on further. 

You tug him closer, Haechan clumsily clambering over the couch until he’s standing in front of you. He gapes at you in surprise before his gaze drops to your lips and you simultaneously pull each other closer for another kiss. He sits on the couch with a plop and tugs you onto his lap so you’re straddling him with your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of him. When you drape your arms around his neck and toy with the locks of hair on the nape of his neck lazily, he lets out a dreamy sigh and tilts his head to allow you more access.

“Pretty girl, you’re being so nice to me,” he coos happily. “Feels like I’m in heaven.”

“Told you,” you reply breathlessly, and his smile widens as a playful glint grows in his eyes.

“Are you gonna be this nice to me?” he murmurs, reaching between you two and hovering his hand over your core as if to cup it. He looks up at you curiously, and you sink down into his hand with a pleased sigh. “God, you’re perfect,” he grunts in awe, kissing you again as he lets you rock into his hand.

“More,” you breathe urgently, trying not to roll your eyes at the smug satisfaction rippling off of him in waves.

“Let me taste you.” 

“What?” you mumble, surprised. 

“What?” he mimics you, chuckling. “I want,” he starts slowly, digging the heel of his hand into your core so you can rut your clothed clit against it, “to taste you,” he murmurs against your lips and strokes his fingers along the seat of your shorts teasingly. “So be nice and let me do it.”

If you weren’t already convinced, his tongue teases your lips apart before he slips it into your mouth and strokes at your own tongue with such expertise that your mind reels, leaving you craving his head between your legs. 

You place your hand on the crown of his head and, when he looks up at you questioningly, push his head down your body gently. He grins and cups your breasts, pushing them together before licking up your cleavage.

He switches you two around so you’re sitting on the couch and he’s kneeling between your legs and he hooks his fingers in your shorts and underwear, prepared to pull them down, before you squeal and stop him.

“Wait, but—this is my couch,” you complain breathlessly. “I don’t wanna make a mess on my couch—”

“How about your rug?” he rasps, and you blink at him, dazed and confused from his kisses. 

“Huh?”

“Can we make a mess on your rug?” he asks urgently, and you nod as soon as the words process in your mind, yelping in surprise when he yanks you unceremoniously so you’re sliding off of the couch and onto his kneeling lap. He pulls your underwear and shorts down as far as they can go with him in the way before he sucks his teeth and scoots back, your ass coming into contact with your rug as he tugs your clothing down further and ducks under where the garments link your legs together, settling between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Finally,” he purrs, then seals his lips around your clit.

You moan in surprise as he tongues at the sensitive bud, massaging the underside of the bundle of nerves and steadying your thighs as they threaten to push his head out.

“Why are you running from it, baby?” he murmurs as you squirm away from him. It’s everything you want, yet it’s too much all at once, the fear of getting caught, the guilt of what you’re doing— “Relax; you want this.”

You don’t know if your struggle was showing on your face, but he’s spoken directly to your core—no pun intended. You’re not sure if it’s that you’re relaxing your muscles or he’s just genuinely stronger than you, but your legs remain open, his tongue fervently lapping at your core as ​​it drips arousal. 

He moans weakly as he eats you out, desperate little whimpers slipping from both of you as his tongue explores your folds. 

“So good,” you whisper dreamily, eyes rolling back in your head. You tip your head back onto the couch cushion and reach up to grope your breasts under your shirt.

“Wanna see,” he grunts, yanking your shirt up past your bra to watch you grope at your chest, squeezing the flesh and teasing your nipples. “Fuck—”

“Haechan, I need to cum,” you exhale shakily, and he nods, keeping his eyes on you as he swirls his tongue around your core more insistently. The more he licks, the closer you feel and in a moment you’re helplessly rolling your hips against his face as he licks you to a climax that has you clamping your hand over your mouth to muffle the moans you’re letting out. 

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he slurs, words muffled from his face being buried between your legs. 

As your body gradually comes down from your high, you shift your weight onto your butt as you attempt to get up, but Haechan untangles himself from your clothing and sits up on his heels again, fingers unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans as his other hand grabs for you. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you again. “You really thought you were gonna get away that easily?” he chuckles, eyeing you up and down. “Looking as good as you do?” 

“I need a minute,” you say breathlessly, and he hums in acknowledgement, taking his time pushing his jeans and boxers down to below his knees. He strokes himself slowly as he watches your chest heave to catch your breath, your undone state riling him up even more until he’s gingerly draping your legs on either side of his lap and pulling you so your ass is resting on his knees and his tip is aligned with your entrance. 

“Ready?” he asks in a strained voice as he glides the tip of his length up and down your folds to coat himself in your arousal.

“Mhm—” you whimper, and he pushes into you slowly, a slow rush of air leaving your lungs as he fills you up. “Fuck, so full—”

“Take it all, baby,” he urges between gently shushing you. “You know you missed this dick.”

“Jesus, Haechan,” you mutter in surprise, dazzled yet again by how slick his mouth is.

“Am I wrong?” he presses, and you fall silent, looking elsewhere. He snickers and continues, “I thought so. You love this dick—”

“Shut up—”

“Love the way I fuck you, yeah? The way I fill you up just right—love feeling me nice and deep in this pretty pussy—you can’t get enough of me—” Punctuating his words with slow rolls of his hips, he grips the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls your mouth to his.

“Haechan—” you start, but he speeds up without a moment’s notice, the protest choking off in your throat. If you could compose yourself, you would have retorted with something about how Haechan showed up to your apartment at ten in the morning with food and volunteered to help you clean… just for another chance at having sex with you, so you couldn’t possibly be the down bad one in this scenario. 

However, his strokes feel so good that you’re not left with much other choice but to overlook his cocky remark, your jaw falling open silently as he tilts his head forward to kiss and suck and nip at your neck. 

When a weak whimper escapes you, he coos fondly and kisses his way up to your cheek, lips pressing into the squishy flesh delightedly before kissing the corner of your mouth. When you turn your face to his, he kisses you again, sucking on your tongue lewdly before pulling back and gazing down at you. 

“Baby,” he coos sweetly, “are you about to cum?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, I’m gonna cum—”

“Cum, baby,” he urges desperately, connecting his lips with yours once more. “Wanna feel you cum on me again—”

“Fuck,” you moan dangerously loudly, the sound ushering in your climax. Your body curling in on itself, your hips roll jerkily against his own as you ride out your high and let out lowly whimpered swears and mumbles of Haechan’s name.

“I’m gonna cum—” Haechan warns, and you nod with half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile.

“Cum, Haechan,” you hum encouragingly, clenching around him for good measure, and he lets out a choked groan before resting his forehead against yours, hips stuttering and chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. The warmth of his seed fills you, the sensation so intense that you almost wonder if you’re leaking out onto the carpet.

“God, you’re so good to me,” he mutters breathlessly, his forehead still pressed against yours. “So fucking good and tight and warm and wet—”

“Haechan, I hate to interrupt you as you wax poetic about my pussy,” you drawl drily, “but we need to get up and get dressed before Yunjin comes out.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles, reluctantly climbing to his feet before helping you up. It’s a bit undignified, pulling your underwear and shorts up from where they lay at your ankles, and the cool, wet sensation at the seat of your underwear is nothing short of unpleasant, but when you catch Haechan’s eye and he grins at you, suddenly you don’t think you mind all that much.

You and Haechan make quick work of cleaning your apartment from the disarray left behind from your party, the two of you collapsing onto the couch as you sip happily at your iced chai and eat your croissant.

Not a moment too soon after you’ve finished your mini meal and disposed of the cup and wrapper does a sleepy Yunjin emerge from the hallway, scratching her head and yawning.

“Good morning!” you chirp, and she offers a sleepy smile and wave before squinting at Haechan for an uncomfortably long time.

“Morning! What’s he doing here?” she asks, confused as she points at him.

“He would appreciate a greeting as well,” Haechan huffs, and she rolls her eyes.

“Hi, Haechan.”

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” she repeats, and he gestures around at the now clean apartment.

“Came to help clean up.”

“Aw, that’s nice of you.” she coos fondly, and it’s a testament to how groggy she is that she doesn’t think to ask why. “Well, I’m hungry. I’m about to make breakfast; do either of you want some?”

“Hm, what are you making?” you ask curiously.

“Waffles and eggs and sausage.” she replies, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Oh, yum. Yes, please.” you agree, and Haechan nods eagerly beside you.

“Great. Lemme go wash up.” she mumbles before turning and heading back down the hallway.

“Now I feel kinda bad I didn’t get Yunjin any food,” Haechan mutters with a sheepish chuckle.

“You can make it up to her next time you show up at my apartment with snacks and nefarious intent.”

“Nefarious intent is crazy.” he snorts loudly, and you shrug dismissively.

“It’s the perfect way to describe it! You came here on an evil mission with an iced beverage, a flaky pastry, and a dream.” 

“An evil mission? A dick appointment is an evil mission now?” he chuckles, his laughter building gradually as you nod.

“It’s evil when you’re supposed to be dicking down your girlfriend and not me, you adulterer. Speaking of, when’s the last time you paid some attention to her, hm?” you muse, and he raises his eyebrow.

“First of all, I don’t think that’s your business.”

“I don’t think it’s your business to tell me what my business is or isn’t if you’ve dragged me into the middle of said business.” you huff, turning your nose up, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Second of all, I texted her earlier saying good morning and I hope she slept well.” he replies as if that was even close to being good enough.

“Aw, then the Boyfriend of the Year followed up his good partner deed by committing adultery—”

“Will you keep your voice down?” he whispers insistently, and you sniff disdainfully but oblige, falling silent. “Don’t act innocent, either—you had sex with me back! It was a mutual sexing!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you reply stubbornly.

“Tell that to my cum leaking out of you as we speak—” he starts, but cuts himself off immediately at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Yunjin looks fresh-faced and significantly more awake than before, your roommate and best friend shooting you a bright smile before heading into the kitchen.

“Come on,” you urge, standing up and gesturing for Haechan to follow you.

He gives you a confused look but stands up nonetheless, tilting his head to the side questioningly. “Where are we going?”

“To keep Yunjin company.” you explain. “It’s our civil duty to keep the cook entertained while she makes food for us, you know.”  

“Ah, I see.” he nods in understanding before gesturing for you to walk to the kitchen. When you turn your back to him, he pinches your ass cheek and giggles when you whirl around to scowl at him. “Come on, she’s waiting.”

As you follow Haechan into the kitchen, you think about how he’s definitely quite the handful and wonder to yourself how you’re going to manage juggling your new secret and keeping the peace and harmony of your friend group.

“Haechan, you want chocolate chips in your waffles?” Yunjin asks over her shoulder as she pulls ingredients from the fridge.

“Nah, I’m good.” he replies, and she nods, turning to look at you expectantly.

“What about you, babe?” she questions, and you scrunch your face up thoughtfully before nodding. 

“Yeah, but not too many.” you answer, and she purses her lips pensively as she nods in understanding.

“Got it.” she confirms before turning to mix the waffle batter. “So, Haechan, did you enjoy the party last night?”

“It was a dream come true,” he gushes happily, shooting a surreptitious glance in your direction that Yunjin thankfully misses due to her attention being on the mixing bowl.

“Oh, yeah?” Yunjin chuckles, amused, and Haechan nods even though she can’t see him.

“Wanna relive it over and over,” he murmurs, looking at you with a loaded gaze, and you roll your eyes.

“Oh, brother.” you mutter to yourself, rubbing a hand over your face as you chuckle.

You really will have your hands full with him.

So you were right: ever since you and Haechan had sex at your Halloween party (and the morning after), you can’t seem to stop sneaking around with him. No matter how hard you try, and how determined and convincing you try to sound each time you tell him that you two are done hooking up, you somehow always find your way back in his oh-so-persistent clutches. 

The main thing that’s worrying you, though, besides the very obvious betrayal of your friend that’s taking place, is that he seems to be getting a bit too comfortable and far too reckless.

You’re having a friend group sleepover at Mark’s and Jeno’s apartment and you’re passing by each other in the hallway as he returns from the bathroom and you head toward the kitchen when he slides his arm around your waist and tugs you abruptly so you’re sent stumbling into his waiting embrace.

kissing and hope they caught us, whether they like it or not i wanna show you off, i wanna show you off

When you glower up at him, he only offers a suggestive grin and a flirtatious wink in response, looking around briefly before pulling you closer into him for a sudden, captivating kiss. His lips move with yours smoothly, a content sigh leaving his chest as his hold on you tightens. 

You can feel your muscles gradually relaxing as he kisses you and you even go so far as to loop your arms around his neck, his lips curling instantly into a smile as he pulls back slightly to study your now-dazed expression.

“What was that for?” you ask breathlessly, and he just continues to stare, studying your lips so intently that you wonder momentarily if he even heard your question.

After what feels like ages of him committing your every feature and detail to memory, he looks back up at you with a deceptively innocent smile.

“You just look so good,” he groans, leaning in to kiss you again. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You attempt to mask your flustered state with a dismissive roll of your eyes, but your growing smile gives you away, and he mirrors your expression, a sweet, boyish smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Well, get a hold of yourself, sir,” you admonish him gently, moving to pull away. “You can’t just be grabbing me and kissing me whenever you please.”

Instead of letting you extract yourself from his embrace, he doubles down, wrapping both arms around the small of your back and pulling you flush against his chest.

“Mm, but what if I really want to grab you and kiss you?” he breathes, trying his best to stay focused on your eyes and not lower his gaze to your mouth.

“That’s too bad.” you shrug nonchalantly, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “Now release me.”

“I don’t think I will, actually. Kinda like how you feel in my arms.” he says with a bright grin, and you falter, not quite expecting how earnest his words were.

“Sir, unhand me.” you turn your face away from him as he leans in to kiss you again, and the soft growl of frustration that he lets out most certainly is not lost on you.

Never one to back down, he dips his head lower and kisses every part of you he can reach, from your cheeks to your jaw down to your pulse point. Your resolve weakens with every strategically placed kiss from his lips and he hums in satisfaction before swiping his tongue along your collarbones, making you shudder involuntarily.

“Haechan, you really should let me go before someone comes looking for us.” you warn gently, and he groans in protest, frowning down at you endearingly.

“You’re lucky we’re not alone.” he says finally as he releases you, and you stop in your tracks, your curiosity piqued. 

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“If it was just you and me right now, you’d be leaving this hallway with a lot more messed up than just some smeared lip gloss.” 

You scoff lightly in an attempt to brush off his comment, but you can’t help but feel a fluttering sensation in your stomach. “Speaking of lip gloss,” you mumble as you step closer, “I think you’ve still got some on you.” You reach up and wipe the remainder of your sheer pink gloss from his lips and the neighboring area with your thumb, carefully avoiding his unrelenting gaze. Apparently unsatisfied with your refusal to make eye contact, he chases after the pad of your thumb with his tongue, chuckling when you let out a startled noise and retract your hand quickly.

“Quit being a menace and get back out there before someone gets suspicious.” you whisper-scold him, your words seeming to have the opposite of the desired effect as he raises his eyebrows in a wordless challenge.

“Mm, I kinda like when you boss me around.” he muses, tilting his head to the side as he watches you. 

This time, the eyeroll you give him is genuine. “See you out there, Haechan.” You walk past him and continue on your way to the kitchen, waiting until you’re alone to lean against the fridge and attempt to collect yourself, using the cool surface of the metal refrigerator to soothe your heated skin and hopefully steady the pace of your rapidly beating heart.

“Literally what am I going to do with him?” you mutter to yourself.

Nothing, dummy. You should actually be doing nothing with him because, in case you’ve forgotten, he’s already dating someone.

You catch yourself scowling at your thoughts, breathing in deeply before opening the fridge, grabbing a can of Diet Pepsi and heading back to the living room.

“Can we as a collective stop hogging the pepperoni?” Yunjin huffs, scowling as she snatches the bag of pepperoni off of the countertop by where Chenle and Jeno are standing.

“Jeez, here comes the Pizza Police,” Haechan chuckles, and you bite back a laugh just in time for Yunjin to look over in your direction and scowl at Haechan.

“Don’t enable him!” she scolds you, and you raise your hands defensively.

“I wasn’t!” you exclaim, and she narrows her eyes suspiciously before turning back to her meticulously decorated pizza and starting to carefully place her pepperoni.

Haechan crosses behind you to grab the cup of pineapple for his pizza and you hesitate when you realize he hasn’t yet moved from behind you. The two of you are a little ways away from the rest of the group, with you two facing the majority of your friends but positioned behind the kitchen island slightly out of sight. 

Reaching forward for the mozzarella cheese, he pushes up against you, his chest pressed against your back as he hums softly against your ear. 

“What are you—” you start to whisper, but he shushes you immediately. 

“Don’t draw attention,” he breathes, and you go still, waiting with bated breath. His fingers drop to stroke your thigh and creep higher and higher until they’re trailing along where your asscheek and your thigh meet. When you squirm anxiously, he leans in, pressing you against the counter harder so you can’t wiggle away. “Stop moving. You like that?”

The only sound you can make without drawing attention to yourself is a whimper of assent and he laughs quietly, slipping his fingers between your legs from behind and stroking along the seat of your leggings just over your core. 

“So warm,” he purrs in your ear as he works his fingers against your clothed core, the tips of his fingers pushing against the underside of your clit and making you gasp and look for something to occupy yourself. You take a handful of mozzarella cheese and start to sprinkle it over your pizza only to accidentally drop a fistful unceremoniously in the center when he starts massaging your clit in rapid little circles. “Bet you’d feel so good around me right now.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, and he snickers.

“Only because I don’t want the fun to end,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit faster as you clumsily redistribute the cheese in the middle of your pizza to the edges of the uncooked dough. 

“Cut it out, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whine, and he hums sympathetically.

“What, you wouldn’t like that? Hm?” he teases, lips right by your ear as his fingers speed up, sending you closer and closer to your climax. “You don’t want me to make you cum in front of all our friends?”

“No,” you protest weakly, and he coos affectionately.

“You sure? They might want to see how pretty you look when you’re cumming on my fingers.” he muses, and you squirm again in an attempt to free yourself before an idea occurs to you.

“You want Jeno to know what I look like when I cum?” you ask breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper, and his fingers halt instantly. He pauses for a moment, presumably thinking it over, before withdrawing his fingers from between your legs. “Thought so.”

“Shut up,” Haechan mutters with a chuckle before moving from behind you and towards the sink, where he washes his hands and dries them before returning to his spot beside you. “You’re lucky I don’t want to share you, or I would have made you finish right here.”

“I don’t doubt that, actually,” you reply with mild amusement before you return to decorating your pizza, trying all the while to push down the thought that Winter probably would not want to be sharing her boyfriend with you if she knew about what you and Haechan had going on. 

You try not to let it sour your mood, but the guilt inevitably settles in, making you feel more withdrawn from your friends for the rest of the pizza baking activity.

It’s later that same night and you’re half asleep in your sleeping bag on the carpet of Mark’s bedroom when you hear a rhythmic rustling sound that seems to be getting louder. 

You peek over your shoulder as subtly as you can to see Haechan strategically rolling in his sleeping bag to approach you. Facing front again, you can’t help but stifle a giggle at the ridiculousness of it all, the cut off giggle manifesting as a loud splutter of amusement when his sleeping bag collides with yours.

“Haechan, what is wrong with you?” you whisper incredulously, peering across the dimly lit room to see if Chaewon’s stirred from her sleep or if Mark’s roused at all.

“Can’t sleep,” he says with a sigh, and you roll your eyes while he still can’t see you. “Turn around, I didn’t roll over here to stare at your back.”

“Oh, you could’ve fooled me,” you remark sarcastically. “I thought you were in the mood to ogle at this sexy patterned synthetic nylon sleeping bag of mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, I know,” Haechan remarks drily. “Now turn around.”

You grouch and grumble and groan, but you most certainly do turn around, now facing a smiling Haechan.

“Hi, pretty.” he greets quietly, eyes bright with affection, and you roll your eyes in a feeble attempt to hide how flustered he’s made you with a simple greeting.

“Hi, Haechan,” you murmur quietly, and he pouts.

“I called you pretty, can’t you compliment me back?” he asks, and you blink twice.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, and his eyes widen, Haechan blinking several times in a stunned silence before focusing in on you with a sudden intensity that makes you gulp.

“Definitely do that more often,” he mumbles, gaze dropping to your lips. “As a matter of fact—come here.”

“I’m already here, what more do you want?” you snort in amusement, and he sighs before unzipping his sleeping bag and doing the same to yours, tying the two together at the top so they’re crudely linked together by the straps before you can protest. “Wh—? I feel like you basically just handcuffed yourself to me.”

“Oh, hush,” Haechan chuckles, shifting closer to you with a content sigh. “That’d be kind of hot, though.” 

“Shut up,” you laugh quietly, and you feel his hand slip around your waist and under your shirt to graze your skin, making you gasp softly as he pulls you closer. “Stop, your hands are cold.” you complain, and he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in deeply.

“Then come here and warm me up, baby.” he purrs, and your eyes widen, lips barking out a dangerously loud laugh of surprise as you move to pull back from him—an action which would have had more impact if Haechan hadn’t clocked your intentions immediately and gripped you tighter so you couldn’t move away.

“That was painfully cheesy,” you complain in a low murmur, and he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It made you smile, though,” he points out, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your lips and continuing on over your muffled yelp of shock, “so I think it was worth it.”

“You need to go back over there before you fall asleep here.” you whisper worriedly, and he waves you off dismissively. 

“You owe me something,” he reminds you with a knowing smile that would probably be a lot more meaningful if you knew what the hell he was talking about.

“Haechan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Earlier during pizza time,” he brings up with an exasperated roll of his eyes. “I had to stop what I was doing to you; we never got to finish.”

“You want to make… me… finish? Right now?” you whisper incredulously, and he nods with a dazzling grin.

“I sure do, pretty girl. Now be good and open your legs for me a little bit, yeah?” he murmurs, hand snaking down your body and into your sleep shorts, fingertips dancing teasingly along the warm seat of your underwear.

“Haechan,” you whine faintly, and he shushes you with a soft kiss on the lips.

“If you thought you had any chance of me letting up on you,” he begins, lips brushing against yours as he speaks, “you effectively kissed that goodbye when you whined my name all pretty like that.” And without another word, he brings his hand from your shorts and gently pushes two fingers into your mouth for you to suck. “That’s it,” he whispers, eyes blazing as he moves closer to you until your noses are practically touching. 

When he’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers from your mouth, inspecting them thoroughly as they glisten with your saliva in the scarce streaks of moonlight on the floor, before winking at you and sucking on his fingers as well, making a small gasp escape you.

“What was the point of me doing it, then?” you huff, and he smiles around his fingers.

“I just wanted to taste you again,” he says, pulling his fingers from his mouth with a cheeky grin and maneuvering them back into your underwear, this time wasting not a single moment before pushing them into you. His lips fall on yours instantly, silencing your quiet keens and whimpers with slow, languid movements of his lips and teasing, almost lazy strokes of his tongue that mimic the way his fingers move inside of you.

The sleeping bags lend nothing as far as maintaining discretion, the noisy fabrics rustling together rhythmically as his fingers move in and out of you, twisting and curling as they become intimately familiar with the feeling of your walls wrapped around them and clenching with desire. 

Thankfully, any other noises you two make are nothing more than pants and quiet whispers of swears, the occasional stray whine from you being mostly muffled by his kisses. 

“Listen, baby,” he whispers in a low hush, moving his fingers in and out of you faster. “Listen to how wet your little pussy gets for me.”

“Fuck—” you hiss when the wet sounds of his fingers moving against and between your folds make it to your ears, and he chuckles, the sound low in his chest.

“You want me to make you cum?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye. When you nod, he grins widely and nods back at you in understanding before massaging your clit with the palm of his hand as his fingers fuck into you. “Say it.”

“Make me cum, Haechan, please?” you whisper with a teary-eyed pout, and he wets his lips slowly, eyes darkening with desire, before his fingers curl into you just the right way at the right time for you to come undone, spilling all over his hand as you bury your face in his neck to collect yourself. 

His fingers slowly come to a stop once he’s milked your orgasm as far as it’ll go and he gently pulls them out of you, laughing when you immediately and pointedly avert your gaze.

“Look at what I did to you,” he urges, and when he’s certain you’ve peeked at the glistening strings of arousal connecting his splayed-out fingers, he sticks his tongue out teasingly as if to lick them, and you squeak, covering your eyes immediately.

“Don’t be obscene,” you half-whisper, half-beg, and he sighs loudly. “The bathroom is literally right there. Just take your sleeping bag and when you come back, just go to the right side and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” he huffs with an air of petulance, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics. “Gimme a good night kiss, then.”

“One.” you stress, and he nods in understanding.

“One.” he confirms, and you shift forward, kissing him sweetly on the lips. When you two break apart, his lips chase after yours for more, his eyes still closed, and you have to gently hold his chin and shake his head from side to side to snap him out of it. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you wave him off with a smile.

“It’s okay. Now go,” you stress, pushing him away from you.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he mumbles, untying your sleeping bags, and stands up, rolling his sleeping bag up and gingerly lying it down to his spot on the opposite corner of Chaewon. 

You don’t even bother to watch him to make sure he goes to the bathroom, you just flop over on your side and start trying to go back to sleep, doing your best to ignore the sticky wet sensation between your legs. 

Before long, you’re drifting off to sleep where you dream of warm brown eyes and a constellation of beauty marks.

After waking up and washing up, you shuffle drowsily into the kitchen, where Mark and Chenle are standing at the island counter with their backs to you, talking to each other in low, urgent voices.

“Morning,” you yawn, waving to get their attention, and they turn at the sound of your voice, immediately trying to play off whatever they were just doing.

“Hey!” Mark greets you a bit too enthusiastically, and you freeze, your eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“...Hey…” you say slowly, looking between Mark and Chenle in an attempt to assess whatever’s going on. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing, really,” Mark answers quickly, only heightening your suspicions. 

“I would wager that your ‘nothing’ is, in fact, something. People don’t stand over the kitchen sink whispering urgently about nothing.” you point out, and Chenle sighs in frustration, shooting Mark a glare out of the side of his eye.

“Fine. You want to know what we’re doing, right?” Chenle asks, and you nod. “We’re trying to figure out what you’re doing.”

You pause, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “I’m standing here, trying to decide what I want for breakfast.”

Chenle laughs humorlessly, shaking his head and wagging his finger at you condescendingly. “No, that’s not quite what we’re talking about.” He leans against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “We’re trying to figure out what you’re doing with Haechan specifically.”

You balk, blinking erratically before shifting your gaze from Chenle’s scrutinous eyes to Mark’s worried ones.

“You know what is so crazy? I think I’m sleepwalking right now.” you lie, waving your hand at them dismissively. “Don’t mind me, I’m gonna go back to bed and try to wake up the right way.” You turn, starting to make a hurried escape for anywhere but the kitchen, but Chenle calls your name sternly, making you whine to yourself in protest before you slowly turn back around to face them.

“Don’t lie. What’s going on with you two?” Chenle presses, and you purse your lips.

“Well, what exactly do you two know?” you ask, looking down at your hands to inspect your nails.

“I know that I heard you two giggling and kissing in the hallway yesterday afternoon.” Mark says, and you wince.

“I knew that was risky.” you mutter.

“I also know that he was most definitely touching you behind that island you two were sharing when we made pizza last night.” Chenle adds, and you frown deeply, feeling embarrassed and guilty. “For what it’s worth, you yourself were actually very subtle.” he supplies in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Well, then how’d you know?” you ask, still frowning.

“Haechan tends to look at you like he’s one second away from devouring you at any given moment.” Chenle says, running a hand over his face. “I’m pretty sure that anyone with any level of observational skills would be able to catch that.” 

“Fuck,” you grumble, shifting your weight from foot to foot before you stiffen, looking up in horror. “Wait, does that mean—?”

“No, Winter doesn’t know.” Chenle’s one step ahead of you, and you practically collapse in relief. “We’re not gonna tell her, either.”

You look between them, the picture of surprise and confusion, before it hits you and you slump in defeat. “Let me guess; you want me to be the one to tell her.”

“What? No,” Mark says, brows furrowed in confusion. “Ideally, she never finds out.”

You nod slowly, fully in agreement but still confused as to what exactly the point of this confrontation is.

“So, what exactly was the plan here?” you finally ask, still lost, and Chenle stops leaning against the counter to stand up straight.

“You’re gonna stop sneaking around with Haechan,” he says, “plain and simple.”

“I hear you,” you say, nodding slowly, “I do. I agree wholeheartedly. There’s just one problem.”

“Come on, the dick can’t be that good,” Chenle scoffs incredulously, and you splutter indignantly, shaking your head vehemently. 

“Not what I was going to say.” you clarify as soon as you’ve regained your composure. “The problem is that he won’t exactly… leave me alone.”

“We know,” Mark and Chenle reply in unison.

“Oop–”

“I think you should start distancing yourself from him,” Mark suggests helpfully. “I think he’ll get the hint and move on eventually.”

“You’re probably right.” you say after doing a bit of thinking, and Mark nods. “I have a question,” you start, already embarrassed by how your voice seems to shrink in on itself.

“What’s up?” Chenle asks.

You fiddle with your hands, taking a moment to muster up the nerve to ask your question. “Don’t you guys, y��know… think poorly of me now?”

Mark and Chenle look at each other with almost identical confused faces before turning back to you. 

“No?” Mark finally says, and you pause, not expecting that answer.

“...Why not?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong; this isn’t exactly something that people with strong morals would do.” Mark says, clearly choosing his words carefully. “But I know you—we know you—and we’ve known you for long enough to know that you’re not a bad person.”

You could cry, you’re so relieved. “Thanks, guys.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Chenle shrugs. “So you’re gonna distance yourself, right?”

“Yeah,” you agree readily, and he nods in approval.

“And you don’t have, like, feelings for him or anything, right?” Mark asks.

“Wh–no? Why ask me that? I mean, I don’t—I definitely don’t—but why would you ask me that?” you splutter, confused and indignant. 

“Because, obviously, it’d be harder to distance yourself from someone you’ve developed feelings for.” Chenle explains slowly, looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“Oh. Oh. Right. That makes sense. Well, don’t worry, guys. That shouldn’t—no. That won’t be a problem.” you assure them confidently, and they both hesitate for a second—a second too long, in your opinion—before nodding in agreement.

“Great. Well, now that that’s over,” Chenle says, slipping his hand up his shirt and rubbing his stomach absentmindedly, “I’m starving.”

“Me too.” you echo, and you both turn to look at Mark expectantly.

“What do you want me to do?” Mark questions, bewildered.

“This is your house? This is your food? Make us food, food man.” Chenle says, still speaking slowly as if some of Mark’s brain cells clocked out for their break.

“Bro, I can barely make eggs,” Mark defends himself, raising his hands in surrender. “I can order food from, like, IHOP or something?”

You and Chenle look at each other, exchanging wordless glances before nodding and turning back to Mark. 

“Sounds good.” you chirp, hopping up onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. 

“Should we wait until everyone wakes up so we can just do one massive order?” Mark suggests, and you groan, resting your crossed arms on the counter and letting your forehead drop onto them.

“Can’t we just wake them?” you ask, and Chenle points at you emphatically.

“Yeah, I’ll wake everyone up,” Chenle offers, already shuffling into the hallway towards the bedrooms. 

“I’ll start browsing the menu,” Mark says, unlocking his phone.

As the two males busy themselves with their respective tasks, you take the moment of solitude to think about how exactly you’re going to get Haechan to stop making advances on you. 

We haven’t been messing around that long, you think. It shouldn’t be that hard.

As all nine of you file into your regular diner and head for your usual booth, you notice that Haechan’s hovering around you a bit closer than normal.

Shooting him a curious side glance and receiving a subtle upwards flick of the eyebrows in response, you decide to shrug it off, chalking it up to Haechan being a little bizarre as usual.

That is, until you’re all moving to sit down—save for Winter, Seulgi, and Chaewon, who’ve gone to the bathroom to freshen up—and Haechan slips between Mark and Chenle, completely bypasses his usual spot next to Winter, and slides into the spot beside you that’s usually reserved for Seulgi. 

You pause in the middle of removing your coat, slowly turning to look at him with an incredulous expression.

He doesn’t even meet your gaze at first, instead starting to search through his jacket pockets—for what, you don’t know.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, you look over to see Mark sitting directly across from you with disapproval written plainly on his face.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Haechan?” you ask in disbelief, and he finally looks you in the eyes, having the audacity to look put out by your question.

“Looking for something?” he replies slowly, waving his hand in his pocket as if he’s the normal one in this scenario.

“Is that something perhaps your common sense?” you whisper indignantly, and he rolls his eyes.

“I wanted to change my spot,” he explains casually. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“I do.” Mark chimes in, voice surreptitiously low, and you gesture towards Mark, glad someone has your back.

“Mark does!” you hiss. “I do, too!”

“Would you relax?” Haechan laughs in disbelief. “Last time I checked, sitting next to you wasn’t a crime. It’s not like I’m slipping under the table and going down—”

“You absolutely will not finish that sentence.” you cut him off with a stern glare, and he chuckles under his breath before shrugging and looking between you and Mark.

“I’m sitting here today.” he says resolutely, and you shoot Mark a worried look, Mark frowning back at you sympathetically. 

Like clockwork, Winter, Seulgi, and Chaewon return from the bathroom, all three hesitating at the front of the table as they regard Haechan curiously.

Chaewon looks confused, Seulgi looks annoyed, and Winter just looks a little wounded, your heart twisting uncomfortably in sympathy and guilt as you avert your gaze.

“Haechan, I just want you to know that I am a creature of habit,” Seulgi says casually as she moves to sit beside Winter in his usual spot, “and you will rue the day you stole my seat.”

“Duly noted,” he replies, not looking even remotely bothered, and she narrows her eyes at him threateningly before settling into her new position.

Ordering goes by quickly and your food is out within a reasonable amount of time, all of you waiting for the last dish to arrive before you start to eat. 

There’s a comfortable silence that falls over the table as you all enjoy the food you’ve been craving, and it almost lulls you into a sense of security as Haechan murmurs your name to get your attention. 

You turn to him curiously and he’s holding up his sandwich with two hands, silently offering you a bite with an inviting brow raise. A quick glance in Winter’s direction reveals she’s too engrossed in the Belgian waffles she ordered to be worried about what you two are up to.

Seulgi, however, is giving you a clear warning glance that you look away from—hopefully quickly enough that she thinks you missed it. 

“I’m okay,” you brush him off gently, and he frowns cutely before gesturing again for you to take a bite.

“It’s really good,” he promises, and your face twists with indecisiveness. You hold back the initial instinct to glance over at Seulgi again, instead leaning forward and taking a careful bite of his sandwich. His eyes light up when you do, prompting your lips to curl into a smile of your own as you pull back with a mouthful of sandwich. 

The different flavors and textures dance on your tongue as you chew, and his eyes study your face intently, visibly brightening every time you react positively. You don’t dare look at Seulgi as you swallow, averting your gaze from Haechan just to be safe. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, and he smiles. “It is really good.”

He beams. “Told you,” he mumbles under his breath, taking another bite of his sandwich that you can’t help but notice overlaps your bite, and the way he shuts his eyes and lets out a low groan while chewing makes your skin tingle with intrigue. When he reopens his eyes to see you staring at him, your eyes widen and he lifts his brows in a blatantly flirtatious greeting before you look back down at your food, your cheeks blazing with warmth that gradually engulfs your whole face.

If the food sharing wasn’t suspicious enough, you really start to suspect that something’s up when Haechan leans over you suddenly, his hand landing on your knee to brace himself. You jump in surprise at the initial contact, but manage to ignore it for the most part while he retrieves the ketchup.

“You could have just asked me to pass it to you,” you say when he’s settled once more in his seat. When he looks at you, you shoot him a surreptitious warning glance down at your lap, where his hand still remains resting against your leg.

He meets your gaze with a naughty twinkle in his eye that only confirms your earlier suspicions, his hand staying exactly where he placed it.

You honestly don’t know what’s worse; the fact that Haechan feels comfortable enough to massage and knead your thigh under the table less than five feet away from his unsuspecting girlfriend, or the fact that the whole situation is beginning to turn you on somewhat.

You’re not sure if what’s turning you on most is his persistence, his blatant and shameless attraction to you, or—and you hope this isn’t the case—the fact that Winter is absolutely none the wiser.

As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand slides up your leg to stroke your upper thigh, fingers trailing dangerously close to your inner thighs and where they meet.

You decide you’re at your limit with his shenanigans for the evening, clearing your throat loudly before announcing, “I have to use the bathroom!” 

Chenle exits the booth first before impatiently gesturing for a reluctant Haechan to follow suit. When Haechan slides out of the booth, you follow him until you’re standing in front of the table, taking the opportunity to head to your destination.

Right when you’ve finished and are in the middle of washing your hands, someone knocks on the bathroom door, making you jolt.

“Just a sec!” you call out as you dry off and open the door. To your surprise, Haechan is on the other side of the door, and he doesn’t let you slip out before he steps in and shuts the bathroom door behind him. “Haechan, you’ve got to be joking.”

“I just wanted to say hi somewhere where you won’t avoid me like the plague,” he says with a frown that’s somehow both sincere and playful. 

“Well, hi.”

“Hi,” he replies with a secretive smile.

“Are we done? Can I go?” you ask, and he shakes his head with a growing smile.

“Maybe I could get a kiss before you go?”

“No!” you protest, and he frowns deeply, moving to block the door. “You’re insane.”

“Come on, you look so good and I can’t even have a tiny little kiss?” he complains, reaching out and taking your hand. When you stare at him warily but don’t move, his lips quirk up into a knowing smile and he pulls you in closer to him. “Come on, pretty girl.”

“Just one?” you ask quietly, and he nods, drawing you in even closer until his warmth and his scent consume you entirely. 

“Just one.” His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and you swallow thickly, leaning in to meet him. “That’s my girl,” he breathes before your lips connect and he winds his arms around you tighter as your lips move smoothly against each other’s. 

The second you let out an involuntary whine, you break the heated kiss with a small intake of air and you point at him with narrowed eyes.

“Be on your best fucking behavior out there, do you hear me?” you warn, and he gives you an obedient nod, a dopey smile on his lips. 

You both move away from the door with a start when someone knocks and your eyes widen as you realize the compromising situation you’ve been put in.

“I’m going out there.” you whisper loudly, and Haechan just waits slightly behind the door as you open it and face an extremely disapproving Chenle. “Oh, thank God,” you exhale with relief.

“Not ‘Thank God,’ actually,” Chenle sighs with a roll of his eyes. “You two are unbelievable.”

“I slipped into the bathroom after her,” Haechan admits plainly, and you look back at him in surprise. “She didn’t plan this, she was just going to the bathroom.”

Thankfully, Chenle’s face softens slightly, and you swallow thickly. 

“Her lipgloss is on your face.” Chenle points out, and you blanch, looking between Haechan and Chenle.

“Also my fault,” Haechan confesses sheepishly as he wipes around his mouth. “I was being difficult.”

Chenle eyes you both suspiciously before sighing deeply and moving out of your way to let you pass. You slip by him with an apologetic squeeze of his arm and head back to the table, Haechan coming out shortly after. 

As you all are starting to get ready to leave, Haechan raises his hand to flag down the waitress, and several people at the table make some sort of confused or bewildered noise.

“Haechan, what are you doing?” you ask, and he levels his gaze so he’s staring directly at you.

“I wanna order another entree to go.” Haechan explains.

You blink at him. “You just had a whole entree right in front of you—that you ate—and now you want another one?” 

Haechan frowns. “It’s for when I get hungry later.” he says stubbornly, and you pinch the bridge of your nose and breathe in deeply.

“Haechan, be satisfied with the entree you got!” you whisper-scold, and suddenly it hits you that he might be using this entree situation to hint at something larger than this—and so might you.

He stares at you, gaze burning with intensity, and says, “I love the flavor of this one though.” He says it slowly, and you can’t help but feel warmth rushing to your cheeks as he stares you down, adding, “tastes so good. I don’t think I can get enough of it.”

You try and fail to come up with a worthy reply, Haechan’s remark leaving you flustered and stunned. “Damn,” you mutter, both impressed and annoyed.

He smirks triumphantly and Mark rolls his eyes from across the table, leaning forward and staring Haechan down. “Don’t be greedy, Haechan. You probably won’t even finish the second entree.”

”First of all, I’ll definitely finish it,” Haechan counters defensively. “And second of all—that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” When Mark scoffs and rolls his eyes again, Haechan takes the opportunity to wink at you, sending you even further into your flustered frenzy.

He’s lost his goddamn mind, you think as Yunjin talks him into placing an order for delivery so you don’t all have to wait for his dish to be prepared. And if I don’t get my shit together and leave him alone, I’m definitely going to lose mine, too.

Later that night, you, Yunjin, Chaewon, and Seulgi have reconvened in your apartment, the four of you lounging around the living room until Yunjin speaks up.

“So are we going to address the elephant in the room, or…?” Yunjin asks after a moment of silence and Chaewon shifts uncomfortably.

“Sorry, guys; my frozen burrito from earlier is fighting back.” she sighs sadly, holding her stomach as her face twists slightly in discomfort.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Yunjin shoots her a puzzled look and Chaewon balks.

“Was the elephant in the room not my stomach gurgling?” Chaewon questions softly, and you can’t help but snicker.

“Wait—why would you eat a frozen burrito?” Seulgi asks curiously, her response several exchanges too late, and Chaewon blinks at her blankly.

“Girl.” 

“What?” Seulgi asks, looking around and growing more bewildered when she sees that you’re all looking at her the same way. “What?”

“It wasn’t frozen when I ate it?” Chaewon explains slowly, rolling her eyes in mild annoyance. “It was actually good as hell.”

“Hope it tastes decent coming up,” you say worriedly, patting her knee comfortingly. “Although with the way your face is twisting, I’m thinking up is not where it’s going.”

“Yeah, no.” Chaewon mutters, standing up and rushing to the bathroom.

“Please spray!” you call after her and she shoots you a thumbs up without turning around. “Godspeed to her.” you sigh sympathetically, and Yunjin snickers.

“Now that we’ve solved one issue, let’s address the other elephant in the room.” She fixes you with a stern look and you freeze. “How long have you been fooling around with Haechan?”

Your blood runs cold. “Well, I don’t remember exactly when it started,” you start to say, trailing off uncomfortably. 

“Okay, so a better question: when and how are you going to stop?” Seulgi continues the interrogation, and you fiddle with the edge of the couch cushion you’re sitting on. 

“I don’t really know… like, Chenle and Mark already figured it out and they told me to cut ties and I’ve been trying but he sat right next to me today!”

“You’re lucky Winter was busy eating her food instead of watching you two practically play footsie under the table.” Yunjin scolds, and you frown deeply.

“Okay, can we skip the ‘I’m a terrible person, cheating is bad’ spiel for right now so we can figure out how I can end things with Haechan with Winter being none the wiser?” you plead, messing with your hair nervously.

“Just call him and break it off. That way you don’t have to see him and say it.” Chaewon pipes up from the hallway as she gets closer to where you’re all sitting. 

“Feel better?” Seulgi asks, and Chaewon nods, smiling.

“Much.”

“Okay, well… I can call Haechan tomorrow, I guess,” you mumble with uncertainty, and they all nod encouragingly. 

“You can do it! And I’ll be here after work to help you if you wanna wait until I get off.” Yunjin offers, but you shake your head.

“No, I did this, so I’ll fix it.” you sigh defeatedly. “You know, I’m just wondering; why did none of you tell Winter?”

“We were hoping it’d fix itself on its own,” Seulgi explains. “The longing stares, the lingering touches, the blatant flirting had to stop for us to maintain a healthy equilibrium in this friend group.”

“Fair,” you reluctantly agree. “But I’d argue that nothing about this is healthy; so far the only two people who don’t know anything are Jeno and Winter… and Haechan doesn’t know you all know… lots of secrets in this friend group.”

“I mean, yeah, but what Winter doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” Chaewon supplies hopefully.

“Somehow, I don’t think that applies to when the thing being concealed is, like, objectively bad.” Yunjin replies.

“Literally when else would it apply?” Chaewon counters snarkily as she turns to shoot Yunjin a blank stare, and Yunjin pulls her fist back like she’s lining up for a punch, which in turn prompts Chaewon to scoff in disbelief and lurch forward in a wordless challenge. 

As the two of them lunge at each other and start to poke and pinch each other in a playfight, you look over at Seulgi, who’s watching them with a look of amusement on her face. 

“You guys are crazy. I’m going to bed, by the way.” Seulgi announces, stretching her limbs before walking to Yunjin’s room. 

“Good night!” you all call after her, but you sigh before following in Seulgi’s footsteps and standing up, stretching your body in preparation to head to your own room to go to bed.

“I’m gonna go to bed, too,” you decide. “Big day tomorrow, y’know?”

“Good night!” Chaewon yells.

“Good luck!” Yunjin says encouragingly.

“Good night, and thank you!” you call back before shutting your bedroom door.

When you’re alone in the safety of your room, you can’t help but wonder if this could have all been avoided before you get in your bed and drift off to a fitful, restless sleep.

You wake up the following morning to what sounds like an empty apartment, and a quick walk around the unit confirms your suspicions. You walk into the kitchen to find something to eat, only to spot three colorful sticky notes on your refrigerator.

Picking up the first one, a light blue square, you read it to yourself.

Good morning! Good luck with You-Know-Who today; stay strong! Love, Chaewon :)

The next one, a sticky note in the shape of a yellow speech bubble, reads:

You got this!! Just remember, it’s for the best. Love, Seulgi ᵔᴥᵔ

With a smile, you pick up the last one, a light pink square, and read it over.

You can do it, babe! No matter what happens, I’m proud of you for even trying. Love, love, love, Yunjin

Feeling emboldened by the words of your friends, you head back to your room to grab your phone to call Haechan. Sitting cross-legged with your back to the headboard, you take a deep breath to center your nerves before unlocking your phone and opening the dialpad.

When you dial Haechan’s number, the phone barely makes it past the first ring before he picks up.

“Hello?” He sounds confused but hope rings clear in his voice. “Did you mean to call me?”

“Yeah—yeah, I did. Hi, Haechan.” you confirm, and there’s a pause on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey! Hi, hey, I’m here, I’m sorry—I’m just a little shocked to hear from you is all.” he stammers, and you start to feel a horrible twisting sensation in your chest as you remember why exactly you called.

“Oh, I just wanted to tell you something,” you say quickly, deciding that once it’s out there, you can’t take it back.

“I wanna see you,” he says plainly, and you falter. “Can you tell me in person?”

This was not part of the plan. 

“Um…” you trail off quietly. “No, I can’t tell you in person?” you say before smacking a hand to your forehead.

He chuckles. “You’re cute. I’m coming to get you in a bit, by the way. You can tell me in 45 minutes.” Haechan states, and you blanch.

This absolutely was not in the plan.

“Um, I can’t hang out.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… doing things… already.”

“Oh, yeah? Doing things?” His amusement is audible on the other end, and you feel a growing sense of defeat.

“Yeah, you know… partaking in… activities… and the like…” you say slowly, and he snickers loudly.

“Well, make some time in your busy, busy schedule for me because I’m about to leave my house in fifteen minutes and drive to yours. It’s only gonna take me about thirty minutes to get to you.”

Rendered utterly speechless by how far off-track this whole thing just got derailed, you just sit in silence for a moment before uttering a defeated, “Okay?”

“That’s more like it,” he says with an audible grin. “See you soon, pretty.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else and you sit frozen for a minute before you fly into a panic, hurriedly running in the bathroom to wash up and get dressed, cursing vehemently all the while.

When 45 minutes pass, you’re touching up the final parts of your appearance and, true to his word, Haechan texts you.

haechan [14:24] i’m downstairs buzz me up

You do so, waiting with bated breath as he makes his way to your apartment, finally knocking on the door after what feels like ages and making you jolt. 

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before opening the door to face him.

“Hi, there,” he greets you with a playful lilt, appreciatively taking in your appearance. To your dismay, he looks nothing short of delicious, sporting a plain black t-shirt and gray sweats with annoyingly perfectly mussed-up hair.

You offer a small smile in response, trying desperately to hide how affected you are just from seeing him. “Hi, Haechan.”

“Did you wanna go somewhere?” he points over his shoulder with his thumb, and you shake your head firmly.

“No, here’s fine.” you say, realizing a moment later that you absolutely should not let Haechan in your apartment if you’re not trying to sleep with him. “Actually, no, you’re right, let’s go somewhere.”

“You sure?” he asks, concerned and slightly amused—why, you can’t seem to tell—as he studies you, stepping closer. When you step back slightly, you realize the mistake you’ve made, as his eyes darken and intensify in their gaze. “Are you running from me right now?”

“No,” you respond quickly, but you fail to convince him, his grin widening.

“You are.” he confirms, his tone a mix of surprise and satisfaction, and you swallow thickly. “You know what?”

“What?” you ask warily, and he leans closer without warning, visibly relishing the way you move away nervously. 

“We should talk somewhere more… private, yeah?” he suggests. At your hesitation, he adds, “I mean, unless you want our friends or someone else we know to see us talking right now.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right,” you agree. 

“We can talk in my car? It’s parked in the indoor garage down the block.” he offers, and you shrug and nod, looking away a moment too soon to catch the way his eyes flash with triumph like he’s lured you perfectly into his trap.

You follow him down to his car in the indoor parking lot, where you move to open your door on the passenger side, only for him to swat your hand away dismissively.

He opens your door for you himself, gesturing for you to get in the car, and when you’re settled in he leans down and so unnervingly close to you that you almost choke on your spit. 

“Still gonna try to run from me, hm?” he presses in a dangerously soft voice, and you look down at your lap to avoid eye contact. He places a hand on the seat by your leg, his hand so close to you that you’re practically touching, and lowers his head to meet your gaze again. “I wonder how far you’d get before I catch you.”

“What makes you so sure you’d catch me?” Your retort slips out without a moment of thought and you stiffen as he grins slowly, absolutely taking your words as a challenge.

“We both know I don’t give up easily.” he replies simply but seriously, and you hesitate, staring at him in shock as he flicks his eyebrows upwards suggestively and stands up, closing the door on your side before crossing around the car and getting in the driver’s seat.

“You wanted to tell me something, yeah?” he reminds you, and you blink twice, snapping out of staring at him like a wary prey animal before nodding.

“Yeah, I did. Um, well…” you mumble, losing all your nerve the longer he stares at you. 

“Well?” he presses gently, and you decide to just blurt it out.

“Haechan, we can’t keep sneaking around like this.”

The silence is thick, and you finally meet his gaze only to wish you hadn’t.

Haechan doesn’t reply, just stares at you unwaveringly, and you feel your resolve slip as his eyes slowly drop to scan your frame. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, crossing your legs at the knee and regretting it instantly as his stare darkens watching the hem of your skirt ride up to expose more of your thighs.

“Haechan, did you hear what I said?” you huff, and his eyes drag back up your body to lock on yours. 

“Yeah, I heard you.” He has the gall to raise his brows in amusement, and you raise your own incredulously. 

“What’s funny?”

He doesn’t reply yet again, chuckling as he shakes his head and pokes his tongue in his cheek, and your brow furrows in frustration—both at his unbothered reaction and at how irritatingly arousing it is. 

“I wanna laugh, too, Haechan,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice not unlike the arousal that now clings to the seat of your underwear. 

“What’s funny,” he stresses, sitting back and rubbing a hand along his thigh, smirking when you snap out of staring at his fingers just a second too late, “is that you really think I’m gonna buy this whole spiel when—” he shifts to lean forward again without warning, moving into your space in the passenger seat— “I can name at least three reasons why I can tell you’re lying through your teeth right now.”

seatbelt’s off, but you won’t leave, yeah how many times do you want what we don’t need?

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh, really?”

“Yep,” he replies casually.

“Name them.” You huff stubbornly, and Haechan’s probing eyes light up in triumph, making you mentally slap yourself for taking the bait.

“First of all? You didn’t want to do this over text.” 

“I didn’t want a paper trail,” you defend yourself but you know it’s weak and worst of all, you know he can see through your flimsy excuse. 

“We could have talked over the phone,” he points out. 

“You insisted on seeing me!”

“You didn’t put up very much of a fight.” he regards you with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. “You let me get to see you in person. Up close and personal.” Haechan continues as if you haven’t spoken, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as his eyes drop from your face to glance at your lap as if waiting for a physical confirmation. When you cross your hands over your lap, he grins, seemingly receiving the cue he was looking for, and flicks his gaze back up to yours. “Second of all? I’m willing to bet you didn’t tell anyone you came here. Because you know good and well what you came to do.”

“I didn’t tell Chenle or Mark I was going to be doing this right now, no,” you start carefully, not sure how to approach the revealing of the fact that more people know of your arrangement. 

“But?”

“But I’m doing this because Yunjin and Chaewon and Seulgi know and they told me I should stop before it gets out of hand.” you blurt out, and he raises both eyebrows as if to challenge you. “What?”

“So your friends think we should stop,” Haechan says slowly, and you nod firmly. “What about you?”

“Wh– huh?” you stammer. 

“What about you? What do you think we should do?” he asks, his voice softening dangerously. 

i recognize the hungry eye both hands on your side, but you’re looking back

“The right thing,” you mumble, and he shakes his head playfully, a wolfish grin growing as he leans in closer to you.

“And what is that?” his voice is barely above a murmur as he brings his lips closer and closer to yours.

You suck in an embarrassingly ragged breath. “Stop.”

He lifts an eyebrow once more, grin widening suspiciously. “Are you telling me to stop, or are you telling me the right thing to do is stop?”

right now, say it if you want it, laugh out loud just let me know

“Second one,” you say feebly, and he chuckles, a dead giveaway you’ve made a mistake.

“So you don’t want me to stop.” he confirms, ignoring your bewildered splutter as his hand creeps up to caress just above your knee. “Got it. Just making sure.”

“You’re insufferable,” you groan.

“You like it.” he dismisses you, and you scoff.

“Do not.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, eyes flicking down to your lap before he smirks and looks up at you once more. “So answer this. Why’d you get all dolled up to see me?”

“I—well—hey, I said I had plans today!”

“But you could have come to see me dressed in something at least a little less cute.” he points out, and you growl exasperatedly.

“Well, I figured I’d go straight to them after,” you lie, gesturing vaguely between the two of you and he nods slowly before you continue with a small gulp— “well, y’know. Plus,” you pipe up as you think of another defense, “I didn’t plan to be here for long enough for it to matter.”

He arches an eyebrow at that, and you can’t help but feel stuck in yet another trap. “You wanted it quick, yeah?”

You have a sneaking suspicion he’s not referring to the conversation you’re having. “Perhaps.” you say warily, settling for the most ambiguous answer you can think of.

“But you know how I love taking my time with you,” he says, frowning as he draws little hearts on your knee with his finger. 

You let out a deep sigh. “Haechan, don’t be crude.”

“But you love it when I’m crude.” he points out with a pout that’s struggling to conceal his growing smirk. “Whenever I talk you through it and tell you I love how well your pussy sucks me in—”

“Haechan!” you squeak in alarm, but he bulldozes over your warning.

“You get all slick around me, remember?”

“Oh, my God, Haechan, please shut up.” you mutter, scandalized as you avert your eyes from his intense stare.

“Always get my cock nice and covered in your cum.” he grunts and you make the grave mistake of looking down only to stifle a gasp at the sight of his gray sweatpants straining to accommodate the growing bulge of his length. As if it couldn’t get worse, his fingers grip his knee tightly, veins prominent on the back of his hand sending your mind to the most sinful places as you envision him taking you in his backseat with his fingers all over your body, mouth soon to follow— “I know you’re thinking about it.”

“Am not,” you lie through your teeth, and he scoffs loudly, sitting back and crossing his arms. You gulp internally as the muscles of his forearms flex slightly and your mind is sent plunging to the gutter once more.

“What are you thinking about, then?”

“Thinking about how I shouldn’t have agreed to come here.”

He nods slowly, pensively. “Maybe you shouldn’t have. Because now,” he softens his voice as he unfolds his arms and rests his elbow on the door, regarding you with his cheek in his palm, “I don’t think I want you to leave.”

You don’t think you want to either, at this point, but you continue to pursue the moral high ground you sought after when you asked to meet up.

You sigh quietly. “Haechan.”

“Baby.” He blinks at you expectantly, and you swallow the thick lump that grows in your throat at the pet name. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“You love when I call you that. Especially when I do it while I’m inside of you.” he counters with a taunting smile, and you roll your eyes.

“Well, you’re not inside of me! And as a matter of fact, we are talking about you never being inside of me again.” you stress, and he rolls his eyes right back at you. At his silence which holds all the defiance he need not say, you sit up in your seat, straightening your back to strengthen your resolve. “We are not having sex again.” you say firmly, finding it devastatingly attractive when he arches his eyebrow skeptically. 

“Oh, yeah?” He’s challenging you, and you could almost curse your pride for walking once more into his trap. You watch in an almost frozen trance as he walks two fingers from his own leg across the middle compartment between you to creep up your leg. He studies you carefully the entire time, almost daring you—to do what, you don’t quite know—before flicking at the hem of your skirt so a portion of it flips up. You suck in a soft gasp and he chuckles quietly. “Then why did you wear this skirt to come and see me?”

“I like this skirt!” you protest immediately. 

“I do too,” he echoes, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. You can’t help but notice that his fingers are tracing small circles on the newly revealed flesh of your thigh, and you blink hard in an attempt to regain your composure. “And I know that you know that.”

You’re absolutely lost for words, and it must show plainly on your face because he pouts at you sympathetically. 

“Poor baby. You really thought you were going to dangle your pretty self in front of me—these legs, those eyes—”

“Haechan—”

“—lips all pretty and glossed up, begging to be kissed—”

“Haechan,” you warn weakly, but you both know it’s too late. Desire is building in you rapidly, your body heating up and breath quickening, and judging by the way that Haechan is watching you like a hawk, you’re way too far gone to come back now. 

“—and you really thought I’d just let you go like that?” He scoffs, so amused it’s almost derisive. His hand leaves your thigh and strokes your cheek affectionately, thumb massaging your skin when you subconsciously lean into his touch. “Without at least a kiss?” Haechan breathes the words so quietly that you have to lean towards him to hear him properly, and he takes the opportunity to shift his hold on you, fingers now grazing the side of your neck. 

“Wh—a kiss—” you splutter, mind reeling from how badly you wish he’d just take you already—

“A kiss.” he confirms, and you freeze, wading through the fog of desire in your mind to contemplate your options. “I just wanna feel your pretty mouth again.”

“Haechan,” you scold pathetically.

“What flavor of lip gloss is that?” He ignores your warning, tilting his head curiously. 

You don’t know why you answer him. “Raspberry peach.” Your voice is quiet and nervous, and it becomes apparently obvious to both of you that you’ve just sealed your fate. 

“Can I taste?” He gives you a dazzling smile, and it hits you—not only did you never stand a chance, but also now you’re not sure if you ever really wanted to.

While your eyes widen in shock, his twinkle with excitement, and your minuscule nod is all he needs to lean forward and connect your lips. The kiss is brief due to you pulling back first, and Haechan groans in delight when he licks your lip gloss off his lips, but he doesn’t release the side of your neck. In fact, his fingers slip further behind you, cupping the nape of your neck, and he gives you a playfully disapproving look. 

“You know you’re going to have to give me more than that, right?”

You balk at the suggestive tone in his voice. “How much more?”

“Mm, at least another taste of that lip gloss.”

“At least?” you protest in a quiet squeak, but he’s already pulling you back into a kiss, this one greedy and desperate as Haechan clutches the back of your neck and your thigh, the hand on your leg sliding higher up to hike up your skirt further. You moan weakly—you’d like to say it was in protest, but the two of you know better than that—and the sound seems to embolden him, his lips wrapping around your tongue for a brief moment to suck before he pulls back slightly, taking in a ragged breath before surging forward to capture your lips once more.

“Haechan—” you manage to get out between his insistent kisses, and he hesitates—but only slightly.

“Mm?” he hums before busying himself with kissing your face, cheeks, jaw, neck and lingering along your pulse point. 

“That was more than enough, don’t you think?” you ask feebly, and he chuckles, the sound low in his throat.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” he confesses plainly, and you freeze, momentarily swooned by the sheer desire in his voice. He pulls back and studies your face, no doubt taking in the sight of your glazed over eyes and parted, panting lips, glossy with residual lip gloss and a mix of your saliva, and you’re all too familiar with the steadily growing glint in his eyes.

It’s triumph, mixed with the intensity of his desire, and it’s enough to send you reeling, your resolve melting like putty between his fingers.

“Baby?” he calls softly.

“Mm?” you reply, softer, without thinking, and his gaze darkens considerably, victory and lust radiating off of him in waves that you come dangerously close to losing yourself in.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh and watches you expectantly. When you hesitate, he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t make me come over there.”

You’re moving before you can even register it, lifting out of your seat to crawl sans dignity—though you suppose you forfeited that the second you kissed him—into his seat. Haechan reaches for you immediately, hands bracing you by your hips and guiding you closer until you’re seated comfortably on his lap, your knees on either side of his frame and aching core planted firmly just below his clothed erection. 

He takes a moment to study you before his hands slowly move to untie the string of his sweats. He chuckles when your gaze drops instantly to his hands with a desperation he knows only he can draw from you. “Does my pretty baby want to see how hard she makes me?” His soft, adoring gaze hardens slightly when you only offer a nod. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to make it any louder. He smiles, pleased, and one hand continues the painfully slow task of maneuvering his length out of his pants while the other trails up your leg from your knee to between your legs, shamelessly pushing your skirt up your legs and out of the way before snapping the band of your underwear against your stomach teasingly. He grins up at you when you yelp and leans up to slot his lips with yours again, kisses slowly building in intensity as they muffle your crescendoing moans and whimpers from his fingers stroking at the damp spot over your core. Every now and then his middle finger grazes the underside of your clit and a sharp hiss escapes you as your hips rock into his touch.

“You’re practically dripping down my fingers, baby,” he coos patronizingly, swirling his fingers around your clit and gathering more of your arousal as if to prove his point. “How could I not give you what you wanted this whole time?”

Your mouth moves to defend yourself but only a pathetic cry slips out when he pushes two fingers into the slick warmth of your core, walls tightening around him reflexively and making him let out a throaty groan. 

“You drive me insane,” he mutters the admission, the words holding more gravity from his sudden bashfulness. 

“Haechan,” you whine softly, and he moans before kissing you again and guiding his tongue between your parted lips to stroke at yours gently.

“How could I ever give you up, baby?” he asks between kisses, and you whimper. “You must not know what you do to me.” At his words and the way they drip with utter devotion, your abdomen tightens and you feel the beginnings of an approaching climax. 

You try to speak once more but, again, only broken gasps spill forth as he speeds up his pace, fingers fucking into you with reckless abandon. The wet, slick sounds of his fingers moving in your core blend in with your growing moans and his encouraging hums to create a soundscape of pleasure you easily lose yourself in, your climax rushing towards you as you know you’re helpless to stop it.

“Haechan—gonna cum,” you stammer, and he coos affectionately.

“I know.” he replies with a grin and curls his fingers inside of you, stroking at your g-spot and working you up further and further until you’re panting and whimpering his name through your climax. He kisses you as you come down, slow but intentional movements of his lips swallowing your trembling whimpers as his fingers keep stroking inside of you. “My pretty fucking girl,” he whispers reverently, adoring brown eyes twinkling up at you. “You’re never getting rid of me, you know that, right?”

“Haechan,” you keen softly, rocking down on his fingers, and he hisses in pleasure before slowly extracting his fingers from you and looking down at his lap.

“Baby, you make me so hard,” he whispers the words like a confession. “Your moans, and the pretty faces you make, and the way you feel—fuck.”

Your hands trail down to his lap, resuming his earlier task of untying his sweats and maneuvering his length out of his boxers, and he sighs in relief when his erection is freed from the confines of his clothes, his head tipping back onto the car seat as his eyes flutter shut.

You waste no time, wrapping your fingers around the base of his length and starting to stroke him up and down. 

He shudders with delight and reaches for the hem of your blouse, cool fingertips gliding up your bare stomach with ticklishly light strokes as he slips behind your back to unclip your bra. As soon as the last hook is undone, he’s pushing your blouse up and pulling your bra down to expose your breasts, a delighted groan escaping him before he leans in and draws slow circles around your nipple with his tongue.

“So good to me, baby,” he says in an adoring whisper. “Keep stroking me just like that.”

“Feels good?” you hum breathlessly, and he nods, eyes flicking up to yours to display his sincerity.

“Feels amazing,” he sighs dreamily, making you smile in satisfaction as you focus on squeezing as you near the head of his length. When you pull your hand away, Haechan looks up at you with disappointment and a question in his eyes, both of which disappear in favor of a heavy-lidded stare of desire as he watches you collect your own arousal and return your hand to his length, your fist gliding up and down his shaft with the new lubrication.

“God, that’s so hot.” he grunts, sliding his hand up his shirt to tease his nipple. You watch his abdomen flex and tense as you swipe your thumb over the slit in the head of his cock, smiling in amusement and fascination as you press the pad of your thumb into the small slit experimentally and he jolts, letting out a low swear. 

With your free hand, you join his hand under his shirt, tracing circles around his nipple and relishing the hiss he lets out. Making sure to maintain the pace of your fist pumping up and down his length, you massage the little bud on his chest before moving over to give the other one the same treatment. 

He moans openly at the stimulation before leaning forward and cupping both your breasts in his hands, showering them with kisses given by full, pink, spit-slicked lips that suck and kiss and part to let his tongue lick at your skin. He pushes your breasts together, kneading and squeezing the flesh before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, echoing your responding moan as he sucks harder, teasing the bud with his tongue. He looks up at you and lets his tongue hang out wide and flat as he drags it across your chest from one nipple to the other, lips making loud, wet sucking and kissing noises as he busies his mouth with your breasts.

Absentmindedly, one of his hands leaves your chest and moves down to wrap his fingers around his length, lazily tugging at himself as he sucks on your nipples, humming contently, and gazes up at you with his eyes half-closed and blazing with desire. 

You reach further down into his boxers to massage his balls, squeezing gently, and he lets out a feeble whimper that has triumph purring in your chest. His length is hot and heavy, the vein running along the underside of it throbbing invitingly, and you’re not quite sure how much more of this you can take.

Growing impatient, you re-grip the base of his cock, fingers overlapping with his, and lift yourself up slightly to guide his tip to your entrance, making Haechan chuckle fondly.

“Pretty girl got tired of waiting, hm?” he teases, and you frown petulantly, looking up at him from where you were focused on staring at where your bodies meet. “Here I was, thinking you were really done with me.” He pouts back at you, a teasing glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes.

“Haechan?”

“Baby?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, gasping in relief when you sink down onto his length. He lets out a loud hiss of pleasure and his hands move to grip at the fleshy part where your thighs and hips meet, kneading and massaging slowly.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s my good girl.” he groans in ecstasy, sitting up slightly to leave kisses along your neck as you clench around him, gradually adjusting to his size. “See how good that feels?” he murmurs breathlessly, and you nod, tilting your head down to catch his lips in a lazy kiss.

“So good, Haechan,” you exhale as you slowly roll your hips against him, and he grins into the kiss as one hand slides up from your thigh to cup your breast in his palm, gently tweaking your nipple.

“You gonna ride me, pretty?” he asks with a small smirk, raising his eyebrows expectantly, and you wordlessly reply by lifting yourself up and easing yourself down, steadily building a decent pace. “Just like that, baby, that’s my girl.” he coos proudly, and you whimper in response as you bounce up and down on his lap.

Haechan ducks his head down, trailing wet kisses from your lips to your breast, where he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, swirling his tongue around the bud and flicking it back and forth as he studies your reactions with an almost greedy curiosity. 

As he laps at your nipple, his hand sneaks between your legs to toy with your clit, a snicker escaping him when you yelp in surprise and flinch away from the overly sensitive stimulation. “Let it happen, baby.” he urges softly, words muffled from his face being buried in your chest.

As you ride him, Haechan takes a moment to lean his head back against the headrest and admire you. “You look so pretty… my pretty girl.” he sighs dreamily, eyes glazed over with a heady blend of lust and adoration. When you avert your gaze nervously, he makes a sound of disapproval and turns your chin so you’re looking at him again. “Look at me.”

“Haechan,” you whine, biting down on your bottom lip to control yourself. You’re already starting to feel the building ache and burning in your thighs as you maneuver yourself on top of him, and Haechan laughs fondly as he brushes stray pieces of hair out of your face.

“You want me to take over?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, bracing yourself as you hover just above his base. “You like how I fuck you, huh?”

“Please move,” you complain, and he shakes his head tauntingly, poking his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he grins. 

“Tell me you like it.”

“Haechan,” you groan, and he shrugs as nonchalantly as someone buried balls deep inside of another person can. “Please don’t tease me.”

“You tried to leave me,” he points out as he rocks his hips upwards into yours, and you gasp from the sudden sensation. “I don’t think you get what you want so easily.”

“I’m sorry,” you moan, fighting back the urge to roll your eyes. “I was trying to do the right thing!”

“Yeah? Well, how right does this feel, hm?” He braces your hips in place as he starts to fuck up into you with deep, powerful strokes. “You were going to leave this behind, baby; you know just as well as I do that you’d have been making a mistake.”

“Yes, Haechan—you’re so good, you’re amazing—just fuck me—” you blabber pathetically, your orgasm so close you can almost taste it. He maintains his pace while capturing your nipple between his teeth and pulling it between his lips to suck with wet, lewd noises.

“You like that, don’t you?” he purrs, and you nod dumbly, causing him to frown in disapproval. “I want to hear you.”

“I love it so much,” you confess, dropping your forehead to rest on the headrest behind Haechan as the tightening feeling in your abdomen grows. “I’m sorry I tried to leave!”

“You gonna do it again?”

“No!”

“Promise?” Despite the menace that he’s being, you can definitely detect some hope in his voice, and you can’t help but feel warmth blooming in your chest.

“Promise, Haechan, I promise!” You’re on the verge of tears at this point, hoping, praying for just a bit more friction so you can cum.

“That’s what I thought,” he says smugly, pressing down on your clit as he angles his hips just right to fuck into your g-spot.

You cry out Haechan’s name weakly as your climax floods through your body, your muscles tensing so tightly that it’s almost painful before they go slack, a wave of satisfaction and relief washing over you as the fuzzy afterglow settles in.

“God—Haechan, I can’t—too much—” you stammer, and he nods, humming in understanding.

“Just hold on for me, baby; I’m so close,” he grunts, pistoning his hips up and into you roughly, deep strokes riling you up even further as he chases after his own high with determination. Seconds later, his hips still as he buries himself in you as deep as he can get, warmth filling your core as he spills his seed into you. 

His head lolls back against the headrest as relief floods his expression, letting out a spent laugh as his hands move to your hips, fingers gently massaging your hips in soothing strokes as he leans forward, eyes sliding shut as he blindly leaves kisses along your skin, starting from your collarbone to trail up your neck to finally catch your lips in a slow, languid, but deep kiss. 

You sigh, content, against his lips, and he places soft kisses to your bottom lip, then your top lip, then to both of them, soft pecks filled with unspoken words of adoration.

“So,” he says after a moment, breaking the silence, and you look at him. “What did we learn?”

“Not you talking to me like I’m a child.” you huff petulantly, and he chuckles fondly before pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting his lips linger there.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs, words slightly muffled by the flesh of your cheek but spoken clearly enough to be heard. “Isn’t that right?”

You sigh in defeat, realizing that if you’re gonna be serious about becoming a better person and cutting this fling situation off, you’re gonna have to come up with a much better plan than the one you just failed to enact.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” you mumble dismissively, and he makes a noise of disapproval before pulling back to look you square in the eyes.

“We’re gonna try that again.” he says, a slight edge to his voice that has your eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’re not going anywhere, baby. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” you answer, and he nods proudly.

“That’s more like it.” he states, pleased. “Now, do you wanna get something to eat?”

“Oh, my God, yes, please,” you agree instantly, and he laughs, reaching into the backseat to retrieve your purse that, truthfully, you hadn’t noticed had fallen back there. You fish out your phone and check your notifications to see if any of your friends magically found out what you’ve just done, finding with a relieved sigh that you’re safe.

“Let’s get ourselves dressed and sorted out, then we’ll get some food.” he promises you, and you shift off of his lap and back into the passenger seat, tugging your skirt and underwear back into place, re-hooking your bra, and pulling your shirt back down to cover everything it’s supposed to cover. 

“So much for having plans and activities to partake in today,” he calls your bluff from earlier with a snort, and you huff, frowning. 

“Listen, they canceled,” you lie.

“Oh, really? Was that before or after I made you cum all over my fingers in my car?”

“Um… after?”

“So just now?” he asks skeptically, and you nod. “Show me.”

“You wanna go through my phone?” you gasp incredulously. “What are you, my boyfriend?”

As he chuckles and shakes his head, you could almost swear you hear him mutter, “Not yet,” and elect to ignore him with a small roll of your eyes.

You feel slightly dirty, your inner thighs smeared with arousal and your chest covered in sweat and Haechan’s saliva, and you attempt to remedy how messy you feel by pulling the mirror down and starting to mess with your hair, all the while fully aware of Haechan’s fascinated eyes on you. Finally somewhat satisfied with your hairstyle, you pull out your lip gloss, unscrewing it and bringing the applicator to your lips, only to freeze at the realization that Haechan’s already rapt gaze has intensified, your illicit lover’s eyes trained on your lips with an unmistakable longing.

“Haechan, we just had sex in your car,” you remind him, and he shoots you a devilishly handsome smile. 

“Just one more kiss,” he says, wetting his lips subconsciously in anticipation.

You roll your eyes slightly but fail to hide your smile as you swipe the lip gloss over your lips, rubbing them together for an even application before turning to look at Haechan, who’s watching you expectantly.

You lean closer, cupping his chin and pulling his face to yours to press your lips to his in a brief but sweet kiss. He hums happily into the kiss and chases after your lips when you pull back, his eyes still closed and lips still parted.

“Are you happy now?” you ask, and his eyes flutter open before he licks his lips, smacking slightly as he tastes your lip gloss. 

“For now,” he replies with a mischievous smile, and you snicker. “Are you happy?”

“Yes, I am,” you assure him, and he smiles, relief evident on his face. “Now drive.”

“So?” Yunjin yells from the kitchen as soon as she hears you enter the apartment. “How’d it go?”

“Um…” you call back hesitantly as you lock the door behind you, and you can hear her turn off the water and her rapidly approaching footsteps as she comes to meet you. “It went. I suppose.”

She stops short as soon as she catches sight of you, hawk-like eyes surveying your appearance for an uncomfortably long period of time before she sighs in disappointment and realization.

“You two had sex, didn’t you?”

You fidget with the bag of Five Guys that Haechan took you to get. “I got you a cheeseburger,” you tell her as you shake the paper bag invitingly, hoping it might distract her somewhat.

“Five Guys and their delicious ass cheeseburgers can’t save you now.” Yunjin huffs, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. “Spill. What happened? How did you two end up having sex again… at the very meeting you scheduled to tell him you two wouldn’t be having sex anymore?” 

“Well,” you start, not really sure where to begin. “He’s very persuasive, you know.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she remarks dryly. “Okay. I’ll spare you the shame of going over every minute detail of your little failed meeting—for now.”

“Thank you,” you exhale in relief, walking past her and collapsing on the couch. 

“But at least tell me how you two ended it?” she asks worriedly as she follows after you, standing in front of the couch, and you start to nibble your bottom lip nervously.

“He said I’m not going anywhere.” you say quietly, and she blinks, momentarily stunned into silence.

“And what did you say to that?” she asks, and you can tell by the defeated tone in her voice that she already has an idea of your answer.

“I agreed.” you mumble shamefully, and she lets out a deep sigh. 

“Of course you did,” she mutters under her breath, running a hand through her hair. “I’m guessing he didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“No, he did not.” you confirm softly, maneuvering yourself up into a sitting position and plopping your hands in your lap pathetically. “Again—very persuasive.”

“Is he that persuasive?” Yunjin asks, tilting her head to the side as she analyzes your body language. “Or do you just have feelings for him?”

You make an indignant, surprised noise that sounds like a strange mix of a squawk and a gasp, but Yunjin silences your impending protest with one look, leaving you to think about her question. “Well,” you say after some time, “if it turns out that I do have feelings for him… hypothetically… then how would I handle this… in this, of course, entirely hypothetical situation?”

Yunjin scans your face again, her no-nonsense demeanor shifting as her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in realization before her features gradually soften into a sympathetic expression, and your heart drops, not needing to be told what she’s thinking.

“God, what am I gonna do?”

She moves to sit down beside you on the couch, draping her arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “I’m gonna be real with you—I don’t think I know, my love.”

“Well, hopefully I figure something out soon, because he’s gonna be at Mark’s and Jeno’s party next weekend.”

“We’ll do our best to come up with something,” she assures you, and you can only sigh forlornly. “In the meantime… how about you let me heat up the rest of this food and we’ll watch something to take your mind off of it, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree dejectedly, and she gently takes the bag of food from your hand, patting your thigh comfortingly before rising from the couch and heading back into the kitchen.

To make matters even worse, your phone buzzes with a text notification and you check it to see a new message from none other than Haechan.

haechan [16:44] hope you’re enjoying your food

haechan [16:44] miss you already, baby

haechan [16:44] can’t wait to see you again soon

You finish reading the text messages and realize with a start after catching your reflection on the screen that you’re smiling giddily at your phone.

You snap out of it quickly, defiantly throwing your phone to the other side of the couch and crossing your arms in a huff.

You definitely need a game plan by next Friday, because you’re not sure just how much more of this you can take.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the fourth part will be up in exactly one week! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!

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LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

[benkeibear]

『 Taking his virginity 』

☼ synopsis: Satoru Gojo was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory before taking his innocence.

☼ character: Gojo

☼ wc: 3.8k

☼ cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, switch!Gojo, virginity loss, experienced reader, oral (reader giving), fingering, cum eating, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare

☼ notes: I gave this piece a little realism since not every first time is picture perfect and no one gets born a sex god. || sign up for my taglist here

Gojo had been chasing after you ever since the day he met you, trying to impress you with everything he could think of. But when his money or the stories he told didn't work, he slowly lost it, trying to make you jealous instead by telling you how many women he takes back to his dorm and how they all scream his name. “I bet they scream because he can't find the clit.” You laughed softly at Shoko’s remark after the white haired man told you about his latest fling.

“That's not true. She squirted all over my cock,” Gojo fired back with a pout on his face as he crossed his arms defensively, but the both of you had to stifle a laugh. He clearly was no gentleman since they don't kiss and tell, but the way he always went over the line with his stories, making sure they were all graphic and detailed, made it hard to believe for you. Why would he tell his crush all that? He followed you around like a lost puppy dog that was begging for just a crumb of your attention and the way he blushed when you teased him never went by unnoticed either. Gojo Satoru was a goddamn virgin and you were hellbent on testing your little theory.

Studying was quickly forgotten when you straddled his lap while he just tried to explain something about cursed energy to you, but you were far too busy with your own little plan to listen. “Finally got to your senses?” He asked with a smug grin and shoved his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at you just above the dark-tinted glasses. His confidence was as fake as in his previous bedroom stories and it was so apparent by how tense he got when you rested your hands on his chest, his heart almost beating out of his ribcage. His pale skin formed goosebumps when you cupped his cheek ever so gently. “Perhaps I have... Fuck me, Satoru,” you whispered into his ear just before you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck and you could feel a shudder run down his spine.

His hands were on your ass in an instant, kneading the globes eagerly, but it screamed insecurity to you. Slender fingers were kneading your flesh when you started grinding your hips against him. A breathless moan escaped his soft lips upon the sensation and his grip on your ass was painful enough to leave bruises. To make things worse for him, you were mewling his name so pretty right into his ear, your words leaving him breathless as he helped you to move your hips, meeting every roll of yours with a little upward thrust. “Just like that, butterfly,” he moaned out. The sensation of your clothed cunt so close to his cock made him lose his mind entirely and he just wanted to be inside of you, have you as his first.

When your lips met his, Gojo moaned into your mouth, giving you the perfect opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth and he held your hips close against his, aimlessly humping into you, but you bit his lip. “If you cum in your pants right now, I won't even think about sucking you off,” you warned him and his hips almost stilled instantly. His face and ears dusted pink when you caught onto him. It was torture to him, edging himself like this, but perhaps you're not just teasing him and he won't ever pass up on the feeling of your lips wrapping around his cock. Not when this very image was what caused many sleepless nights where he coated his hand in his own cum more than once. A single hiss left his lips when you started to grind your hips into his again, your breath hot against his neck as you marked his skin up with purple marks. It would be a lie to say that it didn't affect you, knowing that you make him feel so good and that you have him in your palm like putty. His cock feels delicious, even through your clothes. You were almost embarrassed by how soaked your panties were from a little dry humping, but you didn't take pity on his state, not until he admitted he’s a virgin. “Fuck. Can't you just use your mouth already?” He asked through gritted teeth and you moved your kisses to his jawline. “And with that stamina, you made women scream? Impatient asshole,” you teased and his eyes fluttered shut. He knew that you knew it was all a lie, but he wasn't ready to fall into your trap. “It's different with you,” he tried defending himself when you slowly got up from his lap and it took everything in him not to bend you over and bury his aching dick in your cunt. “It's different because it's an actual pussy grinding against you and not just your own hand for once, hm?” You asked and unbuttoned his shirt painfully slowly. “Please use your mouth. I'll do everything you want,” Gojo whispered the last part, feeling foolish for being so desperate, but it made you giggle.

“My eager little virgin,” you cooed and sank to your knees as he bit his own lip at how degrading it sounded to him, his hand slowly traveling into your hair to caress you. “Or am I wrong?” You asked as you unbuttoned his pants without pulling them down yet, until he shook his head. “No, no, you're not,” he said softly, nudging his pants down along with his underwear since you were taking too long for him. You were met with the prettiest cock, already leaking with pre-cum from his soft pink tip. “And you want me to be your first?” You asked, giving him the chance to stop this, fingers raking over his thighs before you pressed a single kiss to each of them. "Yes,” he smiled down at you, not believing his wet dream was about to become reality and you nodded softly as your kisses trailed further up to his hipbones, an impatient whine escaping him. “May I?” You asked him sweetly and looked up to him, but he couldn't answer anymore, gently guiding your head towards his tip, which made you laugh at how eager he was to experience this.

Gojo almost squeaked when your soft lips kissed the leaking tip of his cock, pre-cum already running down his shaft in small beads, but you had enough of the teasing, just wanting him to enjoy his first time now. Ever so gently, you wrapped your lips around his aching length and your longe immediately began to swirl around it, smoothing down any vein and ridge as you slowly sunk your head further down. When you looked up at him through your lashes, he was already far gone. His face contorted in pure bliss before he let his head fall back and his hands traveled to your head. He didn't push you further down, but he needed to hold onto you, feeling like you're sucking his soul out through his dick. When you hollowed out your cheeks for the first time, “fuuuck-” his groan was drawn out and you decided to take him further down your throat. That cocky bastard was indeed very well endowed and with some more practice, he would make women scream.

You barely managed to take his entire length, feeling him so far down your throat, but his sinful moan when your nose brushed the neatly trimmed hair at the base was worth the effort. His hands grabbed your hair tighter with every bop of your head, but it only made you moan. Your soft moans sent vibrations down his cock and that was all it took. Stuttered moans fell from his lips when he held your head in place, not wanting to lose the warmth of your mouth around him as his cum shot down your throat. Normally you would pull back and curse him for shoving your head further down and making you take his cum, but you let him have it this time. The poor virgin's legs were shaking violently in the aftermath of his orgasm when he slowly pulled back, a dust of crimson creeping up his neck, but it was quickly replaced with a cocky smirk. “You're such a good girl,” he praised, acting like someone in some poorly written porn, which made your eyes roll. “Next time, you better ask if the person sucking wants to swallow your cum.” You scolded him, your angry glare set right onto his face, but his cock twitched from your words.

“Can we skip foreplay?” He asked sheepishly, dying to experience your cunt wrapped so tightly around his cock, but you only raised your brows and your face fell quickly when you realized it wasn't a joke. “No?!” You snapped, stating the obvious, before taking your shirt off. His eyes almost fell out of his skull when your shirt landed on the ground and his lips were on you in a fraction of a second while eager hands worked to open your bra. A surprised moan slipped out of you when he managed to open your bra on the second try already and you could feel the smirk against your lips. Gojo’s large hands covered your boobs immediately, kneading them eagerly and you let him discover your body the way he wanted to. His kisses slowly wandered down your neck, giving it the same treatment you gave him earlier, sucking small marks onto your skin while leaving open-mouthed kisses behind. “You're so hot,” he breathed against your skin and you could feel how genuine he was. His cocky act was pushed aside. When his lips finally reached your chest, you were holding your breath, a single whimper slipping out when he wrapped his thin lips around one of your nipples while looking up at you to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing your eyes flutter shut and your hands burying themselves in his hair, he moaned content against your boobs, swiping his tongue over the pebbled nipple while his hand caressed the neglected breast until he switched sides.

He could do this forever, your boobs were so warm against him and the little noises you let out were all he ever needed - at least that's what he thought. "Toru, please... more,” you practically begged, certain that your panties would be drenched when he took them off, but Gojo didn't need to be told twice. Giving your boobs a kiss goodbye, his tongue trailed over your stomach to the hem of your pants. “May I?” He asked with a small smile on his face, repeating your own question from earlier to show that he learned from your scolding and asked for consent. A simple nod is all you could manage before slim fingers slowly pulled your pants down, leaving you behind in damp panties. Gojo might have been a virgin, but he held so much confidence if you let him just do his thing and it stole your words. “Let's lay down,” you suggested, feeling awkward since you were both still standing around at his desk, but Gojo agreed, gently picking you up to let you fall down on his messy bed, hovering halfway over you. He propped himself up on one arm while laying on his side, his other hand gently caressed your inner thighs, hoping you spread them further for him and you did. You didn't miss the gulp when his hand brushed against your soaked underwear, amazed by how wet you were for him - a little boost to his already far too big ego. “Please,” you begged breathlessly, unsure what exactly you were begging for, but you yearned to feel his fingers play with your wet pussy. Of course, Gojo flashed you the cockiest smile when you were begging him so desperately, but he didn't want to wait much longer either, so he hooked his slender fingers into the waistband of your panties and peeled them off of you. To help him, you lifted your hips ever so slightly and once the piece of fabric dropped to the floor next to the bed, Gojo was hovering above you, one of his knees placed between your thighs.

He didn't want you to see how nervous he felt, so he kissed you as his hands explored your body once again, but his tongue stopped caressing yours when the tips of his fingers touched your wet folds for the first time. “So wet for me, baby,” he cooed, masking his little shocked reaction, but you simply pulled him closer by the back of his neck to connect your lips once again. Clumsy fingers explored your pussy, sliding through your slit to smear your juices around before gently rubbing your labia. You had to stifle a small laughter when Gojo confidently massaged your labia minora as if he tried to start a fire with the friction. Not wanting to ruin the moment by speaking up and possibly embarrassing him, you gently reached between your bodies to guide his hand to where it's supposed to be, rewarding him with a soft moan. He picked up right away and gently rubbed circles onto your exposed clit until your legs started to shake slightly. His cock was so achingly hard from touching you that he could barely contain himself, but your pleasure was important to him, important to his pride, so he swiftly sank two fingers into you. Your back arched off the mattress at the sudden intrusion and your hands reached for his biceps just to hold onto something.

Gojo gasped when you clenched around his fingers for the first time, feeling just how tight and warm your little cunt was and he started fantasizing about how it would feel around his virgin cock. Would he even last long enough? He started to wonder as the pads of his fingers curled into your pussy - something he's seen in porn. “Fuck- just like that!” You whined out desperately before moans fell from your lips alongside praises. The moment your walls started to flutter around you, Gojo spat onto your clit and let his thumb rub it just like his palm did earlier. You had no idea where he learned it and truth be told, you didn't want to know where he picked that up from, but it was all you needed to tumble over the edge. Your walls gripped tightly onto his fingers as you moaned out his name like a lewd prayer, Satoru’s heart beating faster when he watched you orgasm just from his fingers. Once you came down from your high, you held onto his wrist with desperation, needing him to stop because you started to crave being stretched open by his cock.

When Gojo pulled his long fingers out of your wet cunt, he moaned, your juices staining the bedsheets where you laid and dripping off his fingers. Without thinking about it, he pushed his fingers between his lips to let his tongue get a taste of your sweet nectar and it was enough to make his cock twitch. “You taste so fucking good, butterfly,” the man between your thighs praised in a moan and the lewd scene made your pussy clench around nothing. “I'll make sure you come on my tongue next time, yeah?” He asked cocky and you had to get him down from his arrogant behavior. “Who said there would be a next time?” You asked, sounding rather pissed and he shook his head with a small chuckle. “If you allow me, that is,” he added with a wink that made you roll your eyes. He was so fucking cocky, but you also wanted to see him buried between your thighs, his blue eyes looking up at you while his tongue laps at your core like it's his last meal. You needed to see him drunk on your perfect little cunt, but right now you were dying to have his cock inside of you.

A single glare was shot at the white-haired man before you pulled him on top of your body again, your legs wrapping around his waist and he let his cock slide against your folds for the first time. Gojo’s eyes fell shut as he hissed. Your cunt felt so good against him like this and all he wanted to do was push inside to make you cum around his cock just like you did around his fingers, but your question took him off guard. “You sure you want this?” You asked, making sure he was still fully on board with this, seeing how absent his eyes looked for a moment, but he only nodded, letting his cock rub against your core once again. “You just feel so fucking good, is all,” he admitted, prodding at your needy entrance with his tip. His grip on his cock was almost painful when he lined himself up like that, but he waited for a sign - anything really that let him know he could push in - and then he felt the heels of your feet digging into his firm ass cheeks, making him push in with just one thrust.

Both of you moaned out when his hips were flush against yours, his cock buried so deep inside your awaiting cunt and Gojo almost blacked out.

Your pussy felt even better around his dick than he imagined, but you were so tight it almost hurt to move. “We can stay like this for a moment,” you whispered reassuringly, not trusting your voice to be any louder since your breathing was already ragged. Satoru nodded and his head dropped into the crook of your neck, lazily kissing your sensitive skin while he took deep breaths. Both of you knew he wouldn't last longer than a few seconds if he moved right now and you allowed him to do this at his own pace, not making fun of him or teasing him for once. “You feel so good, Satoru,” you whined out, his cock driving you insane just by being nestled inside of you and just as you slowly started to lose it, Gojo pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back inside, over and over again. His thrusts were sloppy and clearly inexperienced, but the way his tip was hitting all the right spots so deep inside of you made you moan his name, a lewd string of praise and profanities falling from your lips until he stilled after just a few more thrusts. “So close- fuck, I'm gonna-” he warned and you helped him by meeting his thrusts, silently assuring him that you want him to cum inside of you. “Oh fuck, butterfly,” his voice cracked when his hips humped yours, and his head dropped into the crook of your neck once again. His balls felt so heavy, tightening over and over again as his cock pumped you full of his release and you could swear that he's whimpering in your ear as he experienced his first orgasm inside of you and it felt so intense he had to pull out the second it was over.

He watched his cum flow out of your little hole and his first reaction was to stuff it back inside with his fingers, which caught you off guard. “Satoru, so good!” You whined loudly, still feeling so full with his cum inside of you, but the embarrassment and disappointment of not feeling you cum around his cock started to creep up on him. This was something he needed to feel, he felt like he might drop dead if he didn't have you wrapped around his length anymore, so he swiftly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt and lifted you onto his lap once he laid down.

The white-haired man's dick was still rock solid, his tip a deep shade of pink from all the stimulation, but his blue eyes connected with yours. “Please,” he begged and you sunk down on his overstimulated cock, almost feeling bad for him when he gritted his teeth as you sunk down. Your head immediately fell back at the way he filled you up now, the new angle letting him in so much deeper. His name felt heavenly on your tongue when you moaned it over and over, letting him hear how good he made you feel with his cock, but his ears were ringing from the overstimulation, yet he craved your tight cunt grinding and bouncing off his dick. In sheer desperation, he reached out to rub your clit, his thumb swiping over your little pearl as his other hand found its home on your ass, where he kneaded the flesh. And there it was - the fluttering of your walls - a telltale sign of your orgasm rippling through your body, which made Gojo moan breathless. Your cunt sucked him deeper while clenching down like a vice as you almost screamed his name when the knot in your stomach finally snapped, your hips erratically humped his cock and your vision blurred. Satoru had to stop rubbing your clit, his hand now grabbing onto your other butt cheek as he pumped another load deep inside of you before you collapsed onto his chest, almost unmoving while his balls kept pumping more of his seed into you until his orgasm finally ceased.

Both of you laid there, panting and none of you wanted to move or say anything. Gojo simply wrapped his arms around your upper body, slender fingers caressing the skin of your back as you gently kissed his jawline with sweet, almost innocent kisses. Your heartbeat matched his, beating strongly at a fast pace, but you eventually forced yourself up a little bit to look at him. One of your hands cupped his cheek gently. “You okay?” You asked caring, wanting to know if he's satisfied, if his first time was what he imagined and Gojo nodded with a breathless chuckle. “I'm so fucking okay,” he said enthusiastically and his smile was a genuine one this time. “Can we stay like this for a moment?” He asked immediately after, not wanting to let go of you just yet, but you nodded and rested your head back on his shoulder. "Hmm, for a moment, but we need to clean up eventually,” you mumbled into him before kissing his shoulder, and he nodded as he wrapped his arms around you again. “Perhaps we can take a shower together,” he mused, a grin dancing on his lips and you shook your head with a soft laugh before agreeing. Perhaps this was something you could get used to. Perhaps one day Gojo could call you his.

Networks: @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x daughter!Reader II (Platonic)

Heaven in this series seems to be very unfair and strict, so I guess this wouldn't be too out of character of them. I still don't know how long this is going to be, maybe I'll do a couple more and then that'll be it.

Reminder: Alastor is in hell for a reason; Trigger warnings: gory elements, mentions of blood, threats towards a child, mentions of rape, death.

This is not proof read, so please excuse any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

tags: @anonymousewrites

Part I ｜Part II (You're here!)｜Part III

It was hot. That was the first feeling you got. Like those summers in the bayou, but a hundred times worse. You wondered if you were running a fever. If everything was just a wild fever dream, and you were currently on a hospital bed fighting off the Spanish flu while your dad worriedly sat by your side.

But as you opened your eyes. You found that there was no fever dream. Only nightmares.

You had been sent to hell for keeping quiet. Heaven considered that the officers death could have been prevented if you had just talked to someone about what you saw. But you chose not to, and also chose to pretend it didn't happen just to try and keep some semblance of normalcy. Your silence had only made you an unwilling accomplice in two murders.

You were not made for hell, never were. And suddenly finding yourself in a place were anyone could easily kill, rape or torture you didn't do wonders for your psyche.

You spent the next ninety years hiding in the corners, eating what little crumbs you could feed yourself, barely sleeping just in case some of your 'friendly neighbors' decided to take you by surprise and avoiding all kind of human (or demonic) contact.

You would be lying to yourself if you said those were the only reasons for such a paranoid way of living. The other, and principal reason why you kept moving and hid yourself was the very same reason why you ended up here.

Him.

Not even a week had passed before he had suddenly spawned there as well. Host of his very own diabolical radio show, he had quickly seized control of the former overlords and killed them one by one, broadcasting their cries of fear and pain to all the city. Positioning himself as a prominent member of the new batch of overlords.

He was a monster. 'Alastor The Radio Demon' he was called in fearful whispers. And he kept getting worse and worse. You couldn't help but wonder if the man who had raised you had really been there at all or it had been just another facade, for his own entertainment and amusement.

Everywhere you go you would faintly hear the static of his radio program, it almost seemed that he was following you. There was no escaping his influence. Had he found you? Did he know you were there as well? Did he even care at all?

Sometimes you resented him for breaking your happy mortal life, sometimes you wished you could show yourself to him and maybe everything would be magically reverted to the way it was back then. Sometimes you cried yourself to sleep, fearing that the first thing he would do if he found you would be slaughter you and broadcast your screams.

Fear always got the best of you, so you kept running, hiding, avoiding the exterminations as best as you could and doing some things for the sake of survival that would haunt you forever.

You will live to see another day. You had to. You may not be able to kill anyone, but you will survive.

Until one day you got caught.

You should have listened to your instincts that were screaming at you that that dump was not safe to rest. But you were too tired to care.

As soon as you close your eyes for a quick nap, a huge hand grabbed you by the hair and forcefully pulled you out. You screamed and struggled, throwing wild kicks. But a strong set of arms held you and made it impossible to move.

"Looks like we got ourselves a fighter guys!" an enormous hyena demon cackled manically.

"Boss surley will give us a fucking raise for this one. Can't wait to see how he beats the fuck out of your spunkiness."

You were terrified. What? What were they going to do to you?? You were just a kid!! How was this allowed?? You had to escape, you had to run and hide before it was too late and you found yourself enslaved to some of the most depraved souls.

You screamed, cried and begged them to let you go. But they didn't listen, they shoved you into the back of some van with other terrified demons and drove off to the worst parts of an already hellish city.

They threw you roughly on a cold hard floor, you swore that after so many years in a living hell you would have run out of tears to cry. Well, there you were bawling your eyes out.

"P-please"

The mob boss just laughed, a disgusting pig like demon. "Look at her, ain't even started and she's already crying. Oh, little one, you're going to make some owner the fucking happiest guy ever. And I know the right guy."

So that was it. It was over for you. After everything you had gone through, it seemed like your fate was to be forever enslaved, tortured and finally killed at the hands of a demon. Nobody would come to rescue you. You doubted there was even someone out there who would really miss you.

Maybe you deserved it.

Maybe it was time to really pay for your cowardice.

The tears didn't stop flowing, but you had already resigned to your fate.

The demons were coming closer, some of them with chains, another with a collar, and one with a branding rod.

You could almost feel the burning of metal in your skin. The painful beginning of a new chapter in your afterlife.

And even then, despite everything you had gone through and your fears, whatever remained of that innocent little girl you once were, was quietly praying Daddy would barge in and save you from the bad guys.

The lights suddenly went out, which only terrified you even more. Knowing what they were going to do was bad enough, but not being able to see it? They may as well shoot you dead.

For a couple of seconds everything was in complete silence. "The fuck are you waiting for? Turn the fucking-" The boss was interrupted by a loud radio frequency screech. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you felt the cold hands of terror grab a hold of you .

No.

Nononononono.

You weren't- You didn't- You prayed he wasn't actually going to show up. Despite being trapped between a rock and a hard place, you cursed yourself for your childish wishes.

The static kept getting louder, to the point you had to cover your ears to avoid having your eardrums split. In the corner, right on the left where your assaulters stood, some of them doubled over in pain with blood coming out of their ears, a mass of shadows started moving on their own.

A sob got caught in your throat when you realized where this was going to go. Now it was really over.

The shadows kept getting bigger and bigger, shaping themselves until all that remained was a giant and grinning entity of darkness.

You were completely frozen in your spot, not daring to make a sudden move, just in case you attracted that monster's attention. His Glasgow smile kept getting wider, some drool falling from his lips. He was like a hungry predator watching a tasty piece of meat.

You thought that the worst part would be when more tentacles shot from his back, launching themselves against the assaulters and tearing them apart easily while some chunks of blooded meat fell on his open mouth and others got stuck on his massive antlers. The sound of radio static mixed with his hysterical laughter generated a deep feeling of anxoiusness and fear inside you.

As you dared to look into his pupils, now red radio dials, hoping to find something that would anchor you to whatever remained of your sanity, you knew that had you been alive, you would have died again from fright.

Because there was nothing that could remind you of your father in those eyes.

And with that last thought, you happily welcomed unconsciousness.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Just read "Never Fade Away" by Cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme I am not okay. Please Chris. I am on my hands and knees. B E G G I N G you for something sweet and comforting with Firefly. Literally anything.

I want best girl to be happy.

(Honkai: Star Rail) "You got something on your cheek!"

S/O misunderstands when their girlfriend points out the food on their cheek.

For the record, I was about to paint some Stormcast Eternal minis from Warhammer until I received your call for aid. AND LIKE MIGHTY SIGMAR, I DO NOT LET A SOUL'S CRY FOR FLUFF GO UNHEEDED! *CHUCKS THUNDERBOLT*

Firefly had gotten lunch with S/O. It wasn't anything special to be honest, just some sandwiches she had bought to share.

Though it was nothing grand, the smile it brought to S/O was worth every penny to Firefly, who beamed just as bright back.

And it didn't take long for the two to settle down, simply enjoying making small talk, but as they were eating, Firefly noticed a sizeable amount of crumbs leftover near their lips.

Firefly's eyes widen with a little "Oh!" escaping her, catching the attention of S/O.

(S/O) "Firefly?"

She doesn't say anything in response, only giving them her loving smile like usual with one finger gently tapping twice on the right side of her cheek.

Her smile goes away once she sees S/O's confusion, then watching as it turned into...shyness?

(Firefly) "S/O, why is your face suddenly getting-"

Cutting her off, S/O closed the distance between the two, and she felt their lips brush where she had pointed, a little "mwah!" all being said.

Whatever else she was going to say quickly faded from thought as she was completely stunned.

S/O then noticed a little bit of crumbs on Firefly's cheek, not knowing they were the cause of it.

(S/O) "Oh, I think some of the bread got on you.-"

Finally snapping out of her daze, Firefly couldn't help but giggle, deciding it's probably not worth the hassle of explaining.

...Then, an idea sprung to mind.

(Firefly) "Where?"

She asked innocently, S/O not noticing the playful undertone her voice carried.

(S/O) "Uh, right here.-"

S/O pointed at their own cheek with their pointer finger, only for Firefly to lean back and give them a kiss proper on the lips.

Although it was a bold move, the rising heat to her face dispelled any notion that she was immune to her own antics, another giggle following after.

(Firefly) "I think it's off now!"

Both her and S/O laughed before she had to explain what she originally was doing, causing S/O to get even more flustered at their own mistake.

(S/O) "S-Sorry! I just thought you wanted a kiss!"

Firefly shook her head, her smile only growing bigger.

(Firefly) "No, it's fine! I should've just said something to begin with!"

Her voice grew quiet, one of her fingers playing with a loose strand of hair as she twirled it slowly.

(Firefly) "I'm...not complaining about it either..."

(S/O) "Huh?"

(Firefly) "Nothing! We should probably finish before the food gets cold!"

[king-craftsman]

Fall From Grace

Dean Winchester scarfed down the last of his burger as he eyed the muttering student that walked by him. The last thing he wanted to do was research and so he quickly found one of the best diners in Baltimore. With the student gone, he was the only one remaining in the place, and for a moment he was almost worried every other person in here was a demon.

Ever since he came in and started enjoying his typical meal of burgers, fries, and pie as dessert, every single inside left. Everyone's besides him and the scoffing suited man who was wiping down the newly absent tables. Thankful for the quiet, Dean raised his feet, letting them sit on the table as he sat back and continued eating. 

“Excuse me, could you please take your feet off the table?” asked the stranger, clearly the owne

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be outta here,” scoffed Dean, rolling his eyes. He continued stuffing his face with the last of his food as his boots remained on the table Who was this guy even trying to impress? There was nobody else here! 

“Fine, can you please at least try to talk without your mouth full?” questioned the stranger. Dean simply glared at him, still eating. “It’s quite rude.” 

“Whatever,” replied Dean without even thinking, crumbs spilled from his full mouth as he spoke. “I’m about to leave this dump anyway.” That was it, the stranger crossed his arms and looked down at Dean. If the Winchester was smart he would have perhaps been a bit more privy about the man’s odd nature to the smarter Sam. Maybe he would have been smart enough to note how suspicious this all was - how a suited man was cleaning a diner all by himself, how this place seemed to pop out of nowhere only to garner great reviews and why this man’s eyes suddenly started glowing. 

“I don’t think so. You’ve been rude to me and driven away my customers. I think it’s time for a change in that attitude,” spoke the man. 

“Look I’m leaving anyway and I don’t-” started Dean as he stood up glaring at the man. But instantly his face began to fall slack, his frowning lips beginning to separate slightly as his furrowed brows eased. His eyes stared into the glowing eyes of the suited man and suddenly it felt so hard to move and-

“So hard to think, isn’t it?” said the man. “Just stare into my eyes, that’s it...just focus on them and let yourself just start to relax.” 

“Wha…” Dean instinctively reached for a weapon but he felt that he didn’t need to. He simply needed to relax and his arms were the next to fall slack, as he started to feel himself drop back in the diner seat. 

“That’s right...and in a moment you’ll just want to sleep, just keep staring, just relax…” instructed the man. Dean could feel the voice booming in the back of his mind, it echoed all around him and it just made it so much harder to ignore. Even as his vision blurred, all he could see were those hypnotic glowing orbs, almost turning into spirals as he just leaned back, relaxing further and further. “Sleep.”

The man snapped his fingers.

The sound seemed to boom and with that Dean felt himself slip into the sweet abyss of slumber. 

He didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, all he could make out was a low voice, whispering from the darkness. 

“Now you will follow all my suggestions whenever I snap my fingers, do you understand?”

Dean said nothing, but in his mind he knew that he had to follow all the man’s suggestions whenever he snapped his fingers. Anything from service to something as simple as-

“Wake up!” 

Dean instantly got up, eyes opening suddenly as he looked around to see himself in a dressing room, large wardrobes encompassed the walls filled with formal attire. He glanced around to see the man still standing over him, arms crossed. For a moment he wanted to say something, but his mind drew a blank, everything was foggy and he couldn’t even remember what just happened for the past hour. 

“What the- Where am I?” cried Dean. The Winchester instantly bolted up, ready to tackle the man if he needed to. 

“Stay standing there” spoke the man, the same snap of the fingers boomed in Dean’s mind and he found his body moving automatically. He nodded with wide eyes as his body stiffened in place. His feet felt so heavy and he couldn’t even take a step if he wanted to...and oddly enough he didn’t really want to.

“Start taking off your clothes.” 

“Yeah,” uttered Dean, blinking as he looked down at himself, surprised as to why he suddenly spoke affirmatively. But he was more surprised to find his hands beginning to unbutton his flannel shirt. “What am I doing? Stop this!” He had dealt with powerful magical before, but nothing that made him feel so...powerless, not even possession. 

“Every piece of clothing you strip, strips away a part of yourself, all those messy rude habits you have,” spoke the man, snapping his fingers again as Dean couldn’t help but nod, no matter how much he clenched his jaw and tried to stop. He stripped out of his shirt, letting it fall to the ground. It disappeared out of sight, and soon out of mind, much like his habit. “You won’t ever speak with your mouth full.” The fingers snapped. 

“I won’t ever speak with my mouth full,” repeated Dean. He wouldn’t, that was messy, rude, a bad habit that he had to stop. Dean blinked, this wasn’t him...or was it? He could hardly tell anymore with how hazy and fractured he felt as he began working on taking off his shoes and socks. 

“You won’t put your feet up on the table.”

Snap. 

“I won’t ever put my feet up on the table,” said Dean. He had to figure some way out of here, but his body wasn’t his to control and neither was his mind. But then again was it so bad...most people would take the chance to hurt him, surely this man was just helping get rid of those nasty habits of his. This man was here to help, thought Dean as he stripped out of his jeans. 

“You will not be rude to others.”

Snap. 

“I will not be rude to others,” replied Dean, instantly beginning to feel guilty for the way he was acting. He was loud, brash and annoying, ruining the day for the other diners. Dean reminded himself that needed to stop being so rude as he stripped out of his underwear, freeing his hard thick cock. Dean didn’t understand why he was getting so turned on, but his heart raced as that nagging shouting in the back of his mind telling him to stop, to get out, to call Sam or do anything, grew quieter with every passing moment. 

“Very good Dean,” said the man. Dean barely flinched at the man knowing his name. “Now that we’ve gotten rid of some of your bad habits. We need to add some good ones. So you see that nice suit over there? Why don’t you put that on. Every article of clothing you put on, will turn you into the new you!”

Snap came the fingers and Dean instantly nodded as he began walking over to see a perfectly measured suit and bowtie. He began suiting up and each article changed a part of him. The underwear was first.

“You will speak politely and courteously, no more of that rough southern drawl of yours.”

Snap.

“I will speak politely and courteously…” Dean barely had the energy to finish as his voice changed, beginning to sound more like someone who grew up in Washington than Kansas. He began to put on the shirt. 

“You will treat others with respect. In fact you’ll get a job at my prestigious private club as a bartender,” commanded the man, snapping his fingers. Dean nodded, suddenly the images of rough bars with plenty of whiskey was replaced with upscale high end clubs with suited men like him serving drinks. It was the perfect place for Dean Winchester to start serving his superiors with the respect they deserved. 

“Yes, respect...new job…” murmured Dean, blinking slightly as all memory and desire of being a hunter, dealing with the supernatural, all of it sunk to the back of the mind, growing quiet forever. He could never have a rough job like that, he thought as he arranged his new cufflinks and placed on the suit jacket. 

“You will want to be more sexual, showing off your toned body and serving your superiors the right way. But of course you can’t have any tattoos or scars defacing a gentleman like you.”

Snap.

Dean’s skin began to be washed over, his classic anti possession tattoo fading away like his old self as he groaned slightly. His cock throbbed as he felt his already impressive set of six packs abs tighten, his chest grew slightly broader, allowing for his pecs to be larger. His quads grew, expanding slightly as his biceps did the same. Somehow Dean’s body grew more impressive and better than the active hunter already was. 

“Serving superiors the right way…” droned Dean, as he began to put on the pants, the garter socks and the shiny polished shoes, a set of suggestions lined up and ready to take over Dean’s mind like a tidal wave.

“You are horny for men, loving them. You are also a skilled stripper, as my club and I cater to that kind of audience. Finally, you will forget about your previous life, you will simply Dean Winchester, a dignified gentleman.”

The last snap and Dean suddenly heard himself moan out loud, blushing slightly for such undignified behaviour, but he was sure his superior would understand as his new personality settled in. Dean looked at himself, admiring the view in the mirror as the suit perfectly fit his muscular frame.

“Yes…” said Dean. He pursed his lips, fixing his bowtie. 

“How do you feel Dean?” asked the man. “Do you feel any different? Do you like hunting or eating in diners?

Dean studied himself, for a moment he didn’t recognise himself before he looked at the reflection up and down. 

“No I’d hate that. I’d rather just start getting a job and focusing on being the best server I can be,” said Dean, speaking eloquently and brushing down his suit. He needed it prim and perfect. 

“Very good, I think I could find a position for you. Sit down. Tell me about yourself, Dean,” said the man. Dean did as he was instructed. 

“I grew up quite poor but managed to work hard in school, went to an Ivy League college and studied my best to follow my passions and be the best person I could be. Now I’m here, looking for a new job and new people to serve, all my jobs have been like that, it’s just something I feel I was meant to do,” explained Dean, not missing a beat.

He smiled, remembering his (new) life well, and all the experiences that came with learning proper discipline and the ways hot gentlemen like him are meant to behave.

“Very good. You’ve done well Dean and I feel like you’ve earned a reward. Come.”

Snap. 

Dean Winchester grabbed his crotch as he moaned out loud, wracked with pleasure. The only thing he could think was that besides ruining his suit and how wrong it was to act so inappropriately, it was the best he ever felt, and he would do anything for more of his reward. 

The next few days Dean’s life had changed drastically, the man drained his account to rent an apartment and buy expensive formal attire. He needed a job, not just for the money, but because it was what he was meant to do, and found himself being signed on as both bartender and stripper for one of the most prestigious clubs in the city. The new Winchester was a better one, at least that’s how Dean, and his new superior found it. 

He ignored his brother’s calls, deciding he would introduce him to the suited man another time, for now Dean felt himself putting on his own suit, smiling at his new self, excited and for good reason. 

Tonight was his first shift.

He knew now that anybody acting so brash and rudely around him would think twice about it, otherwise they’d find themselves like Dean where justice is served. 

If you would like to read more stories like this, then click here and check out 100+ explicit TF stories!

[semisgroupie]

MISTLETOE MAGIC

zayne x fem. reader

wc: 1.3k words

warnings: none! just fluff

synopsis: after a holiday party at your home, zayne has a trick up his sleeve to get more affection from you

a/n: this fic is part of the @pixelcafe-network secret santa exchange! @luvzayne i’m your secret santa!!! i hope you enjoy this piece and happy holidays!!

The party went off without a hitch, thankfully. All of Zayne’s colleagues along with your coworkers and friends were able to come by and celebrate the upcoming holiday with you both. Even though you two weren’t by each other the whole time, Zayne made it a point to always come over to you to kiss your forehead or press a kiss to your temple just so you knew that you were on his mind. At one point he even slipped a napkin into your hand with a sloppily written note of “I love you, you look beautiful today” with a little drawn heart at the bottom.

After a couple of hours, the guests started to leave your shared home and finally the last person left. You close the door and Zayne leans in, wrapping his arms around your waist as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. The way his hair and breath tickle your skin makes a light giggle leave your lips and makes you squirm. “Stop moving.” He mumbles against your skin and tightens his grip around you. “I wasn’t able to do this for the past three hours, I need to make up for lost time.” He mumbles again and as much as you want to indulge in his touch, you really do but your home is a mess and there’s food that needs to be put in containers before it goes bad. You chew on your bottom lip and adjust in his grip again, making him groan.

“Come on, stop moving sugar.” He mumbles in an almost whiny tone and a smile grows on your face as you figure out what could get him to pull away. “We need to put the food away and clean up a little, do you really want to leave all those cookies and cakes out to spoil?” Even though he loves you, his love for sweets comes to a close second, he slowly lifts his head from your neck and loosens his arms from around your waist. “Okay, for now I’ll let you go but once we’re done I want to go on the couch, put on some movies and cuddle while we eat some of the cookies Tara brought.” Without even giving you a second to agree to his deal, he moves to the living room to clean up the stray cups and plates. You watch as he goes to clean for a moment before you go to another room in the house to also clean up.

You’re in the middle of sweeping when he calls for you, you set the broom against the wall and make your way to him. You meet him in the middle of the hallway and smile as you look at him, “is everything okay?” He nods and offers you a small smile, “yeah, I just wanted to check in and see how it's going for you.” It’s easy for him to keep a stable tone of voice, easily hiding his true motives behind calling you out. “I was just in the middle of sweeping up some crumbs, I’ll be done with that soon before I move to the bathroom.” He nods then his head moves upwards, you follow his movements and see the green plant with a little red bow hanging above the both of you, before looking at him. His smile grows as he leans in and cups your face, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss before pulling back. “Okay, go back to sweeping, I have to vacuum the living room.” Heat spreads along your cheeks as you watch him walk away, even after being with him for all this time, he still can get you flustered.

The second time he calls for you is when you’re cleaning up the upstairs bathroom, for some reason he is in your shared bedroom and just before you enter the room he meets you at the door frame. A fake apologetic smile graces his face as he looks at you, “I’m sorry, I thought I left the dustpan in here but then I remembered it was downstairs in the supply closet.” You nod and turn to go back to the bathroom but his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back to him. He cups your face again and presses his lips to yours in another soft kiss. He pulls back and watches how your eyebrows furrow, silently questioning him before he grips your chin and tilts your head up so you can look at another mistletoe hanging up on the door frame. “Finish up, I’m going to pack the food up now.” He leans in to peck your lips again before he pulls away and goes to the stairs to go to the dining room.

As you finish up the upstairs bathroom, all you could think about is his past two actions. He knows where everything in the house is and if he wants to check on you, he just knows to go to whatever room you’re in to just go and ask. You shrug it off as you finish up then go downstairs to see if there’s any dishes that need to be washed. There you find most of the food still out and you see your boyfriend a little hunched over near a batch of cookies. You slowly move close to him then wrap your arms around his waist, he quickly turns his head to you, cookie crumbs are at the corners of his mouth and he swallows his bite. “I couldn’t help myself, these are my favorites.” You lift a hand to wipe the stray crumbs from his mouth and laugh, “everything that’s sweet is your favorite, why don’t we switch chores? I’ll put this stuff away and handle everything in the kitchen and you can go put some of the extra decorations away. Okay?” He nods and leans in to kiss your forehead, “just don’t put the cookies away, we’re going to eat those later.” You laugh and nod as he walks away and you start putting everything away, except for the cookies per his request.

Just as you put the last tray of food in the fridge, Zayne enters the kitchen with his hands behind his back. You look at him and lean against the kitchen counter, “do you have some cookies in your hands?” He laughs and shakes his head, “you’re funny, but no. I have something better.” He leans in and moves his hands from behind his back and lifts one of his hands above your heads. You glance up to see the mistletoe and smile before leaning in to kiss him, mimicking all of his earlier actions by cupping his face. This time though, you keep your lips against his for a longer time and pull back slightly. “I see you must have caught on to my little plan for more affection?” He asks and you nod, “I realized it when I was washing the dishes, you know, if you just wanted to kiss me. You could just do it without all the deliberate planning.” He sets the mistletoe down and kisses you again before pressing his forehead against yours, “what kind of man would I be if I didn’t adhere to holiday traditions? Kissing under the mistletoe is a staple for celebrating Christmas with your lover and I was denied having you all to myself for three whole hours, I had to do something.”

You smile and caress his cheek with your thumb, “I love you, Zayne. Thank you for finding many ways to make my heart skip a beat and for still giving me butterflies.” He smiles and leans into your touch, “I’m only doing what I can to make you feel the same way you make me feel every second of the day. Now, since we’re done cleaning, let's dig into those cookies and cuddle while Christmas movies play.”

[ghostchems]

blood and cookies

written with copia in mind but can be any papa. if you read, let me know which papa you imagined! this idea came to me in the middle of the night. 1.2k words. nothing crazy here except for some bloodsucking :) happy holidays!

Flames crackle in the fireplace, casting shadows on the simple garland draped across the mantel. A single, plain red stocking hangs from one corner - the extent of your Christmas decorations. You zone out in the direction of the display from the kitchen as you remove your oven mitts, placing them on the counter. A chill rolls down your spine despite the warmth of the cookies cooling in front of you, sugar cookies shaped like trees with green and red sprinkles. They're typical Christmas cookies, the only kind you trust yourself to bake.

Recently, you've had a visitor every couple of nights. They aren’t the kind to stick around, showing up because they *needed* something from you. You wonder if your dabbling in the darker arts attracted them— ever since moving here you’ve found yourself attracted to the strange herbs and mushrooms that grow wild in these woods. You've learned to identify them, to harvest them properly, and to learn what they are used for - spells that are meant to give protection and tranquility.

The knowledge feels ancient, like it's been waiting here in the soil for someone like you to discover it. Sometimes you wonder if it was a trap all along but you are enjoying your new hobby. Long winter nights are hard living deep in the forest with your closest neighbor miles away, but you make do with your DIY witchcraft. Sometimes you enjoy the solitude while other times you wished you had someone to share it with. That is, until some of your evenings have been interrupted by a mysterious visitor.

You hear fluttering from the living room and quickly move to scoop some cookies onto a plate. Smoothing out your apron with one hand, you take the plate in the other and head toward the fire.

A figure stands near the fireplace, his one otherworldly white eye glowing in the darkness. Dark wings stretch behind him, their leathery surface creaking as they fold against his back. He is like a living shadow, his form seeming to blur at the edges where the firelight touches him. He's never spoken. You don't even know his name but his visits have become more frequent. At first it was once a month, then every other week, and now he visits at least once a week.

“Good evening,” you say softly, placing the plate of freshly baked cookies on the small table beside your armchair. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the air, mingling with the woodsmoke. His white eye follows your movement, and you notice the slightest tilt of his head — perhaps in curiosity, or appreciation. “Help yourself. I will, uh, get you some warm milk.”

You turn back toward the kitchen, your feet padding quietly across the wooden floor. As you warm the milk on the stovetop, you can't help but wonder if he'll still be there when you return — he sometimes disappears as silently as he arrives. The gentle crackling of the fire and the soft clink of the plate behind you suggest he's staying, at least for now. It doesn’t take long for the milk to warm, and you pour it carefully into your favorite ceramic mug — the one with pale green mushrooms painted all over it, their caps dotting the surface in cheerful reds and purples.

When you return, he's closer to the fireplace and two cookies are missing from the plate with a few crumbs on the table. There’s a sense of relief that he liked them enough to eat more than one. You place the mug of warm milk on the table carefully, having learned he isn’t too fond of sudden movements. That doesn’t stop him from moving with inhuman speed right up to you, causing you to gasp and stumble back a step. His wings unfurl slightly, casting strange shadows on the walls.

"You are hungry," you whisper to him, your eyes scanning his face. You can see more of him now—the white and black paint that clings to his skin. He gives a low rumble in response, coming from deep in his chest. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. His eye narrows slightly, the otherworldly glow intensifying for just a moment. You know what comes next.

He crowds close to you, his wings curling around you like a dark embrace. His gloved hand gently tilts your head to the side, exposing your neck. You feel his impossibly cool breath against your skin, causing you to shiver. His other hand pushes the strap of your apron to the side and leans in, lips against your skin. The touch is gentle but cold, like winter frost against your warm flesh.

He kisses your neck. This is new. Usually, he just bites and drinks, a simple transaction of blood for company. But tonight there's something different in the way his lips linger against your skin, the way his hand cradles your head. The gesture is almost tender. You find yourself leaning into his touch, your hands reaching up to steady yourself against his chest. His fangs graze your neck, almost as if asking permission.

"Yes," you whisper, "you may."

His fangs pierce your skin with practiced precision, and you gasp at the sharp sting. All feeling melts away in moments. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his jacket as he drinks deeply, the sound of his satisfied grunts mixed with the crackle of the fire. Through half-lidded eyes, you notice his wing has curled more tightly around you, probably to keep you upright as you grow weak with each deep draw of blood.

Your vision starts to blur at the edges, darkness creeping in. He must sense this and withdraws his fangs, his tongue quickly lapping at the wound to stop the bleeding. His wings move away from you as you sway on your feet, and the last thing you feel is his arms guiding you gently into the armchair as consciousness slips away from you.

You awake with a soft groan, your neck tender where his fangs had pierced. Fingertips drift along the wound as your eyes fall to the fireplace. The fire has died down to glowing embers. Then, your eyes drift to the small table beside you, where only scattered crumbs remain on the plate that once held your Christmas cookies. The ceramic mug sits empty, a smudge of black - like paint or lipstick - marking where his lips had touched the rim.

Despite how weak you feel, there's a sense of contentment. He ate all of the treats you made for him. You smile softly, sinking deeper into the armchair. You wonder when he'll visit again. Maybe next time you'll try another treat, perhaps chocolate chips or snicker doodles. The thought makes you feel warm as you sink deeper into the chair, sleep claiming you. You dream of dark wings and winter nights, of sugar cookies and stolen kisses.

Outside, snow begins to fall covering the forest in a blanket of white. Somewhere in that darkness, a shadow moves between the trees, leaving no footprints.

[sturniolos-blog]

Hii can u please do a dad matt story when estrella is 13ish and upset over boy problems and matt is there is reassure her ?

Boy problems - Matt sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - cute, swearing, ella being upset

quick disclaimer (important‼️‼️): the other request under the first one asked for when she like has a boyfriend but i mixed the two requests together so this story is about ella with boy problems and then matt and y/n realized she’s growing up, hope you enjoy ‼️‼️

—————————

2:14pm

It was a Friday afternoon and I was sweeping in the living room when the front door opened, Ella and Mailo both walked in but Ella slammed the front door shut, dropped her back pack and ran upstairs, not giving me a word to speak.

I look at Mailo as i turn the vacuum off, “What’s wrong with your sister?” I ask him.

Mailo shrugs, “How should i know? She didn’t talk the whole bus ride home!” Mailo says, kicking his shoes off and walking to the kitchen to get a snack.

I furrowed my eyebrows, “I thought you guys don’t sit near each other because you both needed ‘space away from each other’?” Making quotation marks with my fingers.

“We don’t, but she didn’t talk to anyone! Not even her friends.” Mailo said, coming back into the living room with a bag of chips.

“Seriously dude? I just spent the whole day cleaning.” I pointed out.

Mailo looks at me then back down to his chips, “I’ll be neat.” He says, grabbing the remote and turning the TV on.

“You say that ev-” I cut myself off and shook my head, “Okay, i’m done cleaning anyway, i have to go check on your sister.” I sighed before starting to wrap up the vacuum wire.

“Have any idea why she’s upset at least?” I pleaded.

Mailo shrugged, “Probably about a boy.”

My eyes widened, “How old am i getting?” I whispered to myself.

“Pretty old, mom.” Mailo interrupted.

“Be quiet and eat your chips.” I scoffed walking upstairs, hearing Mailo laugh at his own joke.

I get to Ella’s room door and knock on it softly before opening it.

I see Estrella laying on her bed, on her side scrolling on her phone.

I walk in before shutting the door behind me.

“Hey, El. How was school, love?” I asked her, coming to sit on the bed next to her.

She didn’t answer me, staying silent.

I let out a sigh, reaching over and stroking her hair. “Obviously not good.” I said quietly.

“Wanna talk about it?” I suggested.

She shook her head no.

“Do you..want a hug?” I offered.

She shakes her head no with no reaction.

“Okay, well we are gonna have spaghetti and meatballs for dinner tonight. I know you like that..” I said softly.

Estrella then turned off her phone, her back still facing me as she seemed to just lay on her side staring at the wall.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead, rubbing her side before getting up and leaving the room.

I walk downstairs, “Mailo, you’re making a mess!” I scoffed at the 11 year old boy as the chip crumbs scattered around my couch.

Estrella POV

My mom had just left my room and i began to cry.

Boys were talking about me at school today and not in a flattering way, it was so humiliating.

And then a boy i thought liked me said nevermind and made everyone laugh at me.

It hurt so bad, and i yelled at him in the lunch room, a couple teachers heard it but they never reported it to the office.

I called him a loser and a weirdo and a wanna be popular kid, it was well deserved.

He had it coming for him.

—————————

8:09pm

I was washing the dishes after dinner. Ella didn’t come down to eat and now i was getting worried.

Mailo was playing a video game on the TV, yelling and screaming every time he died.

I hear the front door open and close before Mailo yells, “Hi dad!” Followed by a “Hey buddy,” From Matt.

I dry my hands and walk to the living room, leaning against the wall.

I point at Matt, “You, come here.” I make the come here motion with my finger.

Matts eyebrows furrow before he comes over to me, kissing my lips quickly.

“I missed you.” He whispered.

“Yeah, i’m gonna go bother Ella you guys are disgusting.” Mailo gags.

“Don’t you dare go bother your sister, Mailo.” I threaten.

“I’m kidding, i’m going to my room, Jeez. She definitely got her mean-ness from you.” Mailo put his hands up in surrender.

“Mailo!” I yell.

“I’m going!” He yells back.

Matt lets out a laugh before i slap his chest. “Don’t encourage that.” I shake my head, letting out a laugh myself.

“Okay, i need to talk to you.” I say seriously, Matt nods and puts on a look which tells me he’s listening.

“Somethings wrong with Ella.” I say in a hushed tone.

“Wrong? What is she crazy or something?” Matt jokes, but when i give him a look telling him it’s not funny he changes his expression.

“She came home, threw her bag on the floor, didn’t say anything, slammed the door shut and ran upstairs, she also didn’t come down and eat dinner,” I tell him.

Matts eyebrows furrow, “I thought you were making spaghetti? That’s her favorite.”

I nod, “I did and it is.”

Matt sighs, “Did you try to talk to her?”

I roll my eyes, “What kind of mother would i be if i didn’t?” I shake my head, “I think you should talk to her, it’ll mean a lot coming from her dad.”

Matt looks at me, “Sure.”

I smile and put up a thumbs up as Matt starts to walk away. “Great. It’s about a boy by the way.” I mumble.

Matt pauses in his tracks and turns around, “It’s about a what?” He scoffs.

I sigh, “Matt, please, she’s 13 she’s obviously going to have boy problems.” I reasoned.

Matt shook his head and put his finger up, “Yeah, but i can’t. She’s my baby girl, i can’t think about her having a boyfriend yet!” He tells me, sighing as he put his hands on my waist.

“Please…” I drag out, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Matt rolled his eyes and let out a groan, “I hate you so much.” He joked, looking down at me.

“Sure you do, now go.” I booped his nose before pushing him to walk upstairs.

He looked at me before sighing, finally walking upstairs.

3rd Person POV

Matt walked upstairs to his daughter’s room, taking a deep breath as he prepared himself for this talk.

He knocked on the door softly, but after getting no reply he slowly turned the knob, walking in.

He spots his daughter laying on her bed, her lamp that sat nicely on her nightstand was turned on, lighting up the room as she had her back towards Matt, the same position she was in since Y/n last checked on her.

“Hey honey..” Matt says in a hushed tone, slowly walking in the room, shutting the door behind him.

He makes his way over and sits on her bed, sitting in silence for a couple of moments.

He hears sniffles come from her tiny figure, a small weep escaping her lips as a little piece of Matt’s heart shatters at every small sniffle coming from his baby.

“If this is about a boy, then he’s definitely not good enough for you. A-and i’m not even saying that because you’re my daughter, i’m saying that cause i mean it.. and also cause i love you, and i know that you are an amazing person and anyone who doesn’t realize that can go fuck themselves.” Matt’s eyes widen as he says the last part, surprised by his own words. “Don’t tell your mother i said that.”

He hears Ella let out the smallest, quietest chuckle, but it made him smile.

He watches as Estrella sniffles one big sniff, wiping her eyes and then sitting up against her headboard, he gets a good look of her face.

Tear stained covered both her cheeks, her eyes avoiding eye contact with her father at all cost.

Picking at her finger nails that were now chipped with nail polish, a habit she got from her mother when she was nervous or upset.

Matt noticed how short her nails were, the biting problem coming from himself.

“Boys are just so weird dad!” Estrella started, “They’re crazy and disgusting and fools and i just- i don’t know what to do anymore, it hurts dad.” Ella’s voice cracked as she spoke, Matt looking at her with guilt, like it was his fault.

“I’m so sorry, baby. They don’t deserve you, i promise, anybody who thinks he has any right to talk to you like that is a total loser, and i will beat the shit out of any boy that talks bad about you.” Matt threatens.

Ella let’s out a giggle and shakes her head, “You don’t have to do that, dad.”

Matt shrugged, “But i would. And you know why?” He paused, “Because i love you. Your mom loves you-”

“My room isn’t even that messy, mom!” Matt gets interrupted by Mailo yelling in the hallway.

“Mailo, for the love of- there are clothes everywhere! Is that a cup of expired milk?!” Matt and Ella hear Y/n yell also.

Matt and Estrella both share a quick laugh.

“And even your crazy brother loves you. We all do. And one day you’ll find a man who loves you too. And then we will love him.” Matt finishes, Ella having a big smile on her face.

She nods, “Thank you, dad. I love you guys too, even Mailo.” She jokes, making Matt chuckle.

Matt leans forward and kisses Ella’s forehead, “Goodnight, sweetheart. Love you.”

Ella smiles, finally feeling okay again.

Matt walks out into the hallway, walking into Mailo’s room seeing Y/n picking up all of Mailo’s clothes and throwing them into a laundry basket that she had tucked under her arm.

She was muttering things like, ‘Disgusting’ ‘did not get this from me’ ‘crazy kid’

Matt laughed as he leaned against the doorway, Mailo walking in his room with another glass of milk.

Y/n stands up normally and gives him a death stare.

“I’ll take this downstairs then.” He shrugs, walking downstairs with his milk.

Y/n signs and drops the laundry basket, rubbing her eyes before clasping her hands together.

“Okay, how’d it go with Ella?” She wondered, her voice quiet as she kicked some of Mailo’s dirty clothes that were still on the floor out of the way of the door way, both of them making there way out as she shut the door.

Matt shrugged, “You’re right, it was about a boy. But i talked to her and she’s alright now.” Matt said, but his tone wasn’t very excited and Y/n noticed it.

“And…?” Y/n urged him.

Matt let out a sigh, “I don’t know, my baby is getting older. I mean just yesterday was her first day of kindergarten and Mailo’s first day of pre-school. I mean, isn’t that crazy?” Matt ranted.

Y/n nodded, wrapping her arms around her husbands neck, twirling a piece of her husbands hair around her finger. “It is crazy, but it’s just a part of life, and we will just have to deal with it.” Y/n shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

Matt nodded, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist. “You’re right, thank you.” He leaned down and kissed his wife’s lips quickly. “Is it weird i feel old?” Matt asked as he pulled away.

“You guys are old.” Mailo chimed in.

“Mailo!” Y/n scolded as Mailo let out a loud laugh.

—————————

alright what a crazy fic but i think i like third person better but yall voted for first person so that’s here to stay i guess, love yall and i hope yall liked the fic

tag list: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo

[katelynnwrites]

The Kinda Love That You Only Find Once In A Lifetime (The Kind You Don’t Put Down) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: too much fluff

word count: 1122

summary: sydney isn’t your girlfriend, she is so much more than that

a/n: here you go @wosofanstuff, part two to All I Know Is This Could Either Break My Heart (Or Bring It Back To Life)

You laugh, eyes sparkling as you glance at Sydney.

‘Stop that.’ Laura grumbles.

‘Stop what?’ You ask in confusion.

‘That. The thing you both always do.’

‘What thing?’ Syd chimes in, just as confused.

‘Ugh I hate you both.’ The blonde complains, huffing and crossing her arms in frustration.

Giggling, you reach over to take another piece of leftover crust off your fellow Bayern Munich player’s plate.

‘See! That! That’s what I’m talking about!’ Laura exclaims.

‘What?’ You laugh again, in between bites of Sydney’s pizza crust.

The training staff had decided to give the team a little treat, in reward for the game won but Laura seems to be unhappy, or at the very least annoyed by yours and Syd’s eating habits.

‘You’re eating her pizza crust.’ Laura states.

‘And? I like crust and Syd doesn’t. This way her pizza crust doesn’t go to waste.’

It’s a simple explanation that makes complete sense to both you and Sydney.

‘God you’re both insufferable. You’re more married than Svenja and her wife and they’ve actually been married for years.’ Laura finishes as she gets up and walks away.

Both you and Sydney break into a fit of laughter.

International camp is always a lovely time and you thoroughly enjoy spending time with your national teammates even though they frequently tease you and Syd.

But you don’t care about that anymore. In fact you stopped caring a long time ago.

You reach out to hold Sydney’s hand and she eagerly intertwines her fingers with yours.

This moment does not go unnoticed by Kathy who is sitting opposite you and your favourite person.

She had stayed quiet during the Eintracht Frankfurt player’s exchange but now she speaks up, ‘Laura’s right. You both act more married than any other married couple I know.’

Sydney blushes and mumbles, ‘No we don’t.’

The VfL Wolfsburg player scoffs.

‘Yes you do. You drive each other’s cars, live and cook together. You share clothes and take turns spending the holidays with each other’s families.’

Now you’re blushing and Kathy eyes you suspiciously.

‘What is going on with the both of you? We never talked about that camp in Miami, a couple years ago but you two were remarkably different after.’

Both you and Sydney shrug at the same time, causing Kathy to roll her eyes.

‘I’m with Laura on this one. Put us out of our misery and just get married already.’

The Bayern Munich player chuckles and fires back, ‘I don’t have a ring yet!’

Your older national teammate scoffs in mock disgust, following Laura by leaving the table.

She joins another across the dining room and you grin at Syd, ‘We’re making all our friends tired of us.’

‘I’m okay with that if it means that I get to be with you.’ Sydney answers easily.

‘Me too.’ You breathe and she kisses the back of your hand affectionately.

You finish up the remaining piece of Sydney’s pizza crust in companionable silence.

Then you dust off the crumbs and lean your head against her shoulder.

Sydney wraps her arm around you immediately. The familiar gesture is both calming and reassuring.

You break the quiet first and ask, ‘So what kind of wedding do you want sonnenschein?’

Syd’s eyes are wide with wonder but she manages to sound only mildly surprised when she replies, ‘But like I told Kathy, I don’t have a ring yet.’

‘Liar.’ You murmur teasingly.

Sydney raises her eyebrows in question and you laugh.

‘The ring is hidden in your spare kit bag. I would be offended that you intend on giving me a ring that you keep together with your smelly boots but really, I don’t care where you keep it. I’ll wear it proudly anyway because I love you.’

Your favourite person’s jaw drops open in shock but you simply smile at her and continue, ‘I don’t think I want a church wedding, it’ll be too formal. Should we have a garden wedding? Or maybe a beach one?’

It takes her a moment but she soon returns your bright smile.

‘I don’t care. As long as you’re the one standing next to me and saying I do, I’ll marry you anywhere.’

‘Really though. You don’t have any preferences?’

‘A beach wedding does sound nice.’ Sydney admits and you hum thoughtfully.

‘We can start looking at venues once we’re back home?’

‘I’d love that.’

Syd’s hand finds its way onto your thigh and she begins drawing small patterns onto it. She can’t stop grinning and neither can you.

Out of nowhere, Laura drops back down into the empty seat beside you.

‘What are you both smiling about? It better not be some lovesick are they dating or are they not thing again.’

Your soon to be wife’s hazel eyes meet yours and you know she is asking a silent question.

Her eyes say, ‘Do you want to tell them? It’s your call.’

You answer both her and Laura at the same time, ‘Sorry to disappoint Laura but we were discussing our wedding. I guess that counts as lovesick.’

‘Your wedding.’ Laura echoes absentmindedly before it truly hits her.

‘Your wedding?!’

‘Yep.’ Sydney chimes in, popping the ‘p’.

‘Like you and Syd?’

‘The only woman I would ever want to marry yes.’ You state.

You keep your tone light and casual, Sydney squeezing your thigh gently in response being the only action betraying just how emotional the moment is.

She’s smirking at the blonde and it takes great effort on your part to not laugh.

Laura lets out a loud scream, causing the entire dining room to come to a standstill.

‘What the hell? I hate you both!’ She yells.

Alex quickly comes over, concern and worry written all over her face when she asks, ‘What’s wrong?’

Laura refuses to respond and both you and Sydney share a laugh.

‘Nothing’s wrong. She asked what we were smiling about and my fiancée said our wedding.’

‘Your wedding?’ Poppi blinks.

‘Mhm.’ Syd nods.

‘As in you?’ The older woman points.

‘Yes me.’

‘And her?’ Alex points again, this time at you.

‘Yes her.’ Sydney grins.

For good measure, the hazel eyed woman pulls you close and presses a brief kiss onto your lips.

That seems to allow the news to sink in for the rest of your national team because they all start cheering.

They rush over to where you and Sydney are sitting, offering suprised hugs and congratulatory words. The room is full of laughter and an infectious kind of happiness.

Amidst all that, you hear Svenja raising her voice, ‘I thought you said she isn’t your girlfriend!’

You smile to yourself.

Sydney is not your girlfriend. She has always been so much more than that.

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[melancholicstation]

I DON'T NEED YOU BUT I MISS YOU, COME HERE! - a john f. kennedy jr. one-shot

day 2 of melancholicstation! summary: After exchanging gifts with your boyfriend you both reach a haunting revelation. After a serious of miscommunications between the two of you in which the both of you thought the other had bought the round of gifts this year, you and John are forced to venture into the city on christmas eve in the search of a christmas present for your boyfriends mother. What could be more hellish than that? though your handsome boyfriend makes it more than tolerable...

taglist: @carly-rae-jean @h-l-vlovesvintage @inocennture @monturi @hisamericanmuse @passhun4w-blog @vile-harlot @bluelancergirl @jackiesgirl @fortheloveofjos @itgirlvirgo @starsprangledgirl @malkavared @remotewatch @salvatoresablondie @kimcrystal123 @vampyiricris @scaredlamb @dulcegal @strryhaze

warnings: nothing, just good all clean christmas eve fun...

words: 1,210

Light pitter-pattering of rain falls softly against wrought iron fire escape, a soft aroma of powder and flushed-skin spices laid a slight film upon the furnishings of your New York apartment which was a mix of strewn silk stockings, rugs and tapestries, and because it was Christmas: two delicately placed patchwork stockings made from dead stock fabric across an elegant carved walnut chimneypiece and an antique Christmas collage you'd scored in an auction down in the Cape.

But none of it, in all its curated charm, could compare to the beautiful boy who laid his head in the space of your lap. John's eyes closed resembled those in renaissance paintings when scrutinised too close, and was accompanied by a set of an annoyingly long lashes mirroring the color of ink that's been spilt from a fountain pen.

In all his dreary-faced glory: all tuckered out after a tranquil evening of dining on a mismatched array of foods completely incongruent with the present season such as 2 packs of lemon club sodas, a squash & burrata pizza, and a half picked at banana coconut muffin to share: foods that may or may not have been stolen from your head chef's storage pantry. In your defence the food would've had to go in the trash anyway... If you really thought about it you did them a favour in taking the food!

In service of both you and John's shared distain for the Christmas craze and chaoticness you'd both decided to give each other your presents on Christmas Eve instead of on the big day.

The very presents in question were as follows: John got you a beautiful perfume along with a first edition, signed 'Journals of Anaïs Nin hardcover.

In your case, you got John a limited edition cologne with the tagline "Wear En Plein Air if you want to smell like an unassuming art critic on his way to an orgy." Classy. To go along with the scent you got him this years Art Press magazine issue, lately he'd been talking a lot about possibly creating a magazine: you thought it was a terrific idea but he wasn't so sure it would land.

The gift-giving hour had long passed and before you knew it the both of you had ended up splayed out on top of each other on your bed: an early twentieth century opium bed with a pierced lattice panels. A statement piece in your bedroom that you were very proud of winning in an especially hard auction at Christie's Rockefeller plaza location.

The snacking continued from the floor of the kitchen to the bed, where John began shovelling crumbs of a coconut muffin with reckless abandon: defiling your freshly put-on winter goose-down duvet.

"C'mon John you know I just got this cleaned. You watched me buy it like last week!" you say jokingly, yet your movements betray otherwise: frantically moving the palm of your hands over the duvet trying to brush away the crumbs onto the hardwood floors—an almost unbelievable score for an apartment in the city.

"Baby you're way too tense, let the holiday cheer wash over you!" he says sarcastically with that kind of eat-shit grin he nearly always dons.

"Well i've decided to reject that holiday cheer, I'm too stressed out having to figure out your families fucked up dynamics on top of trying not to piss of your sister—making her hate me more than she already does"

Wiping away the coconut flakes from your chin with his fingers, to which he proceeds to place those same fingers in his mouth, making an almost comically suggestive motion: to which you giggle alongside him.

It's interesting how you can almost see the cogs turn in his mind—it's funny how the longer you get to know him you can almost predicate the exact moment a thought enters his head "Speaking of, I forgot to ask you what you got for my mother for when we go down to the cape tomorrow?"

"Wait I thought you were handling the presents for your family this year. I-I mean she is your mom after all John"

It's at this moment that you immediately understand that he did not have the Christmas presents handled in the slightest.

Oh, fuck.

So that is what transpired to have the two of you traipsing around New York City at a blistering 7 pm on Christmas Eve like total and utter idiots.

After the utter shock of not having organised a Christmas present the night before Christmas set in you both scrambled into action changing out of clothes you called "house clothes" into respectable "outdoor clothes".

You chose a practical uniform for the blistering cold raging outside: a slim-fit pair of indigo blue jeans, a silk porcelain turtleneck for layering purposes, and a camel cashmere belted overcoat.

The reason why you'd regard John as a man touched by a certain oddness, said with love of course, is no better exemplified than his chosen outfit for the blistering cold: a patterned cashmere and silk crewneck paired with some old gym shorts and a pair of uggs atop long cotton socks reaching his mid calf. Now, you wouldn't position yourself as a fashion icon but you won't pretend you didn't second guess his choice of fashion, though you did relent when you saw the bashful smile fixing its attention upon your being.

Initially you were mad at one another for dropping the ball on finding gifts but fighting never lasted all that long with you two now did it?

Now, with that being said: Bergdorf's at 7:31 pm on Christmas Eve was certainly the undiscovered 8th circle of hell that Dante's Inferno conveniently left out. You and John had been circling the aisles for about thirty minutes and still: Nothing. As you traipsed the aisles for what seemed to be no short of a few miles all you found were picked over shelves with cheesy Christmas sweaters made out of polyester and acrylic, and small cheese platters in tiny wicker trays.

And if you gathered anything from the few times you've met your boyfriend's mother: Jacqueline Kennedy, is that she has immaculate taste. And known for having a severe emotional intolerance for synthetic fibres and cheap butter.

So safe to say both products left would absolutely not suffice or bode well with her.

By 7:51 pm you're both defeated but as if an angel sent from the gods themselves decided to take pity on you John spots and item: beckoning you over holding his hand out. The item comes into your view: a 18" silver amphora vase detailed with dragon head handles—a little ornate for your taste but from the look on John's face the vase is a winner.

Delighted to be able to get out of this place you both move to the register, slightly surprised that there's not an outrageously long line before you. You're both quiet for a few minutes while waiting, you're broken out of that silence when you feel John's hand pick up yours and bring it to his lips: kissing each of your fingers wrapped in his hand individually.

Okay, maybe Bergdorf's at 7pm wasn't exactly as bad as Dante's inferno but safe to say you will be getting everyone gifts in November next year to avoid this very situation in the future.

i feel like this is my worst one-shot to date (and it hasn't been edited) but I hope u enjoy regardless p.s all the furniture written about was just an excuse to basically show you my christie's wish list items bisous!!!!!!

[mommypieck]

Parents: Yes, my daughter is completely normal☺️

Daughter: I would love to be the AOT girls’ stripper😤✊

✿ mikasa ackerman, annie leonhart, sasha braus

mikasa

she's flustered and you take a seat on her lap. you were watching her for the whole night, being curious that a young lady decided to visit the club instead of some old creepy men

"what are you doing here?" you ask her, brushing her hair behind her ear. she blushes deeply, "im here with my friends for the bachelor's party." she says. your eyes deepen at her voice, it's so sweet and creamy. you remember that some guys booked you up for the whole night but you didn't expect them to bring a pretty girl with them.

"do you like it here?" you slowly grind your ass against her thighs, making her breath hitch.

she nods her head, setting her hands on your hips. you arch your back, letting out a low hum. a group of boys coming your way ruins your mood but you guess that they are her friends.

"i see your friends are here. come and meet mr by the back door at 11."

annie

she didn't want to go but she knew that hitch wouldn't come back in one piece if she didn't go. but she didn't expect that hitch's place of interest would be a strip club.

annie eyes follow your body on the stage as your hips swing into the music. you know that she's watching because you've been watching her ever since she came into the door. nobody else in this building has more pissed off expression than her. you roll her body closer to her, enjoying how money being thrown at her but she doesn't seem to be enjoying the show. your dance ends and you decide to say a little hi to her.

"hi, you're enjoying yourself?" you ask her with a seductive smile but she just shrugs. you sit down next to her in a booth, trying to start a conversation but she doesn't seem wanting to talk. although you can feel her eyes shifting from your face to your bra and your panties that show more than cover.

"you're not so good at concealing where you're looking." you chuckle, making her blush deeply.

"it's okay, meet me in the back after the next show."

spoiler: she came (both ways)

sasha

you feel free as you dance tonight's shift. friday nights are always your favorite because mainly young students come to the club. your head turns when you see someone waiving at you from their booth. you don't usually do private things but this one is different. this one is a girl and you never got a girl calling you over.

"you're the best here?" the girl asks when you come to her booth. you find her interesting, from her brown hair to the crumbs around her mouth from the chips she's eating.

"my name is sasha," she introduces herself, "and i really need a lapdance."

your give her a raised eyebrow, not really knowing what to say but you gently place yourself on her lap.

"my friend is here with me and he said that im never going to get a lapdance from the best dancer here." she explains herself and you chuckle. you move your hips around her lap, squeaking when she places her hands on your ass.

"i like you," you say with a smirk, "how about we got out out here?"

[gtgbabie0]

{Remus finds you eating a midnight snack}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆

You’ve never laughed so hard in your life, the look on Remus’ face as he watches you use the same knife for the butter and jam for your very much burnt toast, the look he gives you as if you had just committed a crime right in front of him.

“Please tell me you haven’t been doing that the whole time we’ve been together” He deadpans as you laugh so hard tears blur your sight, he shakes his head softly taking the jam jar from your hands and examining the toast crumbs and butter that contaminate the sweet spread.

“You should be locked away for this” It's the seriousness in his voice that makes you laugh harder, you watch through joyful tears as he takes a teaspoon out of the cutlery drawer and starts to pick out the crumbs and butter pieces from the jar.

“You’re being ridiculous Remus,” You say through a fit of giggles watching as he picks the butter up and puts them back in the fridge, “What do you expect me to do?—- use the same knife?” You giggle as he turns back in shock as if you just asked him the most stupidest question ever.

“Yes I do, it’s cross-contamination” He can’t help but chuckle a little when you wipe the tears from your eyes still laughing, “Alright breathe lovely” he chuckles walking over to you.

“What you even doing up this time of night?” He asks looking over at the clock that read five am in bold red writing.

“Was hungry” you say regaining your composture before taking a bite from the toast, Remus’ arms wrap around your body as he stands behind you, and he presses gentle kisses against your shoulder.

“Well hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here” he whispers resting his head on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, while you continue to eat your toast. He leans closer to you trying to steal your body warmth as the cold tiles of the kitchen sends a shiver up his spine.

“Wanna bite?” You ask, bringing the toast to his lips and he’s quick to move his head.

He looks at the brunt toast in disgust, shaking his head, “No I don’t” he chuckles, “How have you managed to burn it so bad?” he asks, face cringing a little as he watches you take another bite.

“It tastes fine,” you say, and he’s not quite sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“Yeah, I’ll take your word for that dove” He smiles, his head resting against your shoulder, the ends of his hair tickling your skin as he presses kisses against your jaw and his hands dip underneath your jumper settling against the warmth of your belly.

“Come on let’s go back to bed,” you say as he nods against you, following you back to the bedroom, and he’s quick to search for your warmth again underneath the covers, holding you close to him as you both drift off back to sleep.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[ghostboneswrites2]

Dirty 30 || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Request from @mrs--hiddleston on my old blog: It's my 30th Birthday today and I was wondering if I could request some fluff of all fluff related around the reader turning 30? They're very shy, always been told they're not good enough, escapee of a abusive relationship, never really been shown love?

Summary: Daryl plans a special day for you on your 30th birthday.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, mentions of past abuse, mostly fluffy

        "Why didn't ya tell me?" Daryl asked from behind you. You were doing your usual; morning coffee for everyone, heating some bread and jam for everyone, other general morning duties to give everyone a start tot heir day. You were always the first to rise and the last to fall asleep.

        "Uh.. Tell you what?" You asked nervously. Had you forgotten to relay an important message? You hoped you hadn't messed up anything important.

        "Ya know." He urged.

        "I do?" 

        The only thing you could think was your birthday, but you'd never told anyone about it before and it wasn't a problem then. Plus, you'd hate to walk around begging for self celebration. 

        "Thirty?" He asked. You paused spreading jam on the toasted bread and turned to face him.

        "I..."

        "Why wouldn't ya tell me?" He pushed.

        Why would you? You two had grown pretty close since his arrival at Alexandria, where you'd spent the majority of the apocalypse. He visited you constantly, and a few of his friends lived with you. He took you on rides on his motorcycle, you two walked through the woods together. Still, you couldn't see it for what it was, and that was blatant interest in pursuing you.

        "I -- I don't know." You mumbled sheepishly.

        "Yeah ya do."

        "I.. forgot?" You tried to excuse it. The truth was just that you didn't know when or how to tell someone you had an upcoming day to be celebrated. You had never been celebrated, not once in your life. These people you had come to know and love had better things to do than spend their time on you.

        "No ya didn't." He shook his head, stepping closer to you.

        "I -- What's the big deal?"

        "It's your birthday." He said plainly.

        "Yeah, but I mean.. lots of people have birthdays. People that do a lot more for the world than me."

        "So?"

        "So I dunno.."

        "Didn't think it was important?"

        "No." You admitted. "I'm sorry."

        " 'S alright." He shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast from behind you and taking a bite. "C'mon," he talked through his full mouth, dry crumbs falling from his lips. "Eat and get ready."

        "W -- Where are we.."

        "Just hurry up."

        He was annoyed he didn't have time to get you a gift, but he still had a plan. You didn't talk much, or, really, you were borderline silent. He liked that about you sometimes, but he often wished you'd give him more. More about you, more of your interests, more of your thoughts, more of your voice, just more.

----

        "Ever been out this far?" He wondered. You shook your head. "Mm. Should take ya out more."

        You blushed a little. Nobody had ever taken you out, except maybe when your grandpa was still around and he took you for ice cream.

        You followed closely behind him. He had taken you on his bike until about a mile ago, from there the two of you had been hiking through the Virginia woods, mostly in silence. He wasn't much of a talker and you never felt like you had anything interesting to say. You came to a stop and gasped. He led you to the edge of a cliff. Not a big one like the Grand Canyon or something, but it was tall. It overlooked a waterfall on the far left, the mist raising and creating prismatic rainbows all around. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he took in the scene. His eyes landed on you, a small half smile playing at his lips.

        "Like it?" He asked. You nodded quickly, eyes falling back to the grand display of the earth's natural beauty.

        "I always wanted to see a place like this." You breathed. "You brought me here to show me?" You turned your attention back to him. He nodded as he looked down at you through the corner of his eyes. "Wow." Was all you could say.

        "Thought ya might like it. Ya didn't give me heads up enough to find you a real gift."

        "A real gift?" You scoffed. "I've never seen anything this beautiful."

        He struggled to contain a smile. Triumph. He found the perfect thing for you, even when you didn't want him to.

        "I have."

        "You have?" You asked innocently. "Like a bigger waterfall?"

        "Nah." He shook his head, eyes still on you, as nothing, not even a waterfall, would compare to that sight.

        "Oh." You choked. Was he talking about you? Of course not.

        "You have too." He told you. You pushed your eyebrows together in confusion.

        "I think I'd remember that."

        "Ya look in the mirror every day, don't ya?"

        "Well, yeah but I don't -- " Your eyes grew wide. He did mean you. "I -- I -- Oh."

        You stuttered and stumbled. Your ears and cheeks felt hot and you didn't even register the cheesy grin on your face. 

        He studied your face, grazing over every detail like words on a page. You were shy and reserved, much like him in a lot of ways, but unlike him your face was very expressive. Your eyes could tell him a thousand words in a mere second, and right now you read pure, astonished joy.

        "This is--"

        "Got somethin' else to show ya."

        He led you along the side of the cliff and helped you climb down some large boulders before he stopped you, gently tugging your arm down behind one of the boulders. 

        "Ya see?" He whispered. You peered over the surface of the large rock and scanned your eyes before you saw them. A Doe and her fawns. They were grazing the grass and drinking from the still water at the foot of the lake where the waterfall dumped into.

        "Oh my.." You breathed, eyes watering. Such purity in this world was a rarity at best.

        "Found 'em when I was trackin' a buck." He told you. "Didn't have it in me to kill 'em."

        "They look so happy." You nearly cried. He placed a hand on your back, right between your shoulders. He was always respectful of your body, never once touching an area that felt too intimate. Maybe one day, he thought, but never before you were ready.

        You leaned in closer to him, resting your weight into his side. You couldn't peel your eyes away. A family of deer knew more peace than you had ever known, and you had the privilege of witnessing it. You never would have, had it not been for him.

        "Got one more surprise for ya." He whispered. You looked over at him, daring to break away from the beauty before you. He reached in his pocket and pulled something out. The glimmer of metal against the sun caught your eye first. When he let the thin chain hang from your fingers you realized it was a necklace. A dainty thing that looked like silver, with what looked like a handmade pendant. You slowly took it from him, looking closer at it.

        The pendant was a river rock, one that was naturally tumbled to a perfect little oval by the rushing waters of whatever stream he found it in. He had wrapped it in a thin metal wire, intricately weaving it in a pattern that looked neat and tidy. You ran your thumb over the smooth surface.

        "It's quartz, I think." He told you.

        "I think so too." You smiled, a tear spinning down your cheek. "You made this?"

        "I found the chain but.. Yeah." He nodded. You couldn't restrain yourself. You threw your arms around his neck, clutching his gift tightly in your fist. Salty tears glistened down your cheeks. Nobody had ever been this kind to you, let alone a man. Men had abused you, called you names, reminded you every day how worthless you were. Your father, every boyfriend, your brothers, your uncles. Not a single masculine soul had showed you kindness before, let alone put so much thought into making a day special for you.

        "This is the best birthday I've ever had." You whispered.

        His arms settled around you, embracing you in a strong hold.        

        "C'mon. It ain't that special--"

        "No." You shook your head, releasing him and looking him in the eyes as you quickly wiped your tears. "No, you don't get it. This is the most anyone has done for me. Ever."

        His eyes bore into yours, deciding you were serious. How disappointing to know that something as simple as a rock on a chain could sweep you away like this. Surely you deserved better.

        "I'll make the next one even better, if you'll let me."

----

        It was nearly nightfall by the time you made it back to Alexandria. He helped you off his bike, ever the gentleman, and held his hand on your mid-back the entire time he walked you home. You led him inside, planning to pour a glass of homemade mead for the two of you, but you realized there was light coming through your back windows.

        "What's that?" You inquired as the two of you walked to the backdoor. He stepped in front of you, wanting to open the door first. He held it open for you.

        As you stepped outside you nearly cried all over again. He admired your wide eyes as they glistened under the lights that had been strung up all around, marveling at all of the people, food, and drinks that had been waiting for you.

        "Happy birthday!" Everyone shouted. Rosita was the first to run up and hug you.

        "You didn't think we'd let you keep it a secret, did you?" She grinned as she stepped to the side. Everyone else came one by one. Tara, Rick, Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, a few of your friends from before Rick's people arrived. You didn't know this many people even liked you.

        Abraham stepped forward with a glass of wine for you. "Happy dirty-thirty." He winked as you accepted the glass. You spun and looked at Daryl, who was watching with a satisfied little smile.

        "You did this?" You asked. He shrugged.

        "Yes, he did. Don't let him tell you any different." Carol spoke up for him.

        "More like, he planned it." Tara interjected.

        "Yeah, we did all the hard work." Rick teased.

        And there it was. The first time you felt free to just talk. To enjoy people and be enjoyed. To allow others to celebrate you, and to celebrate the love they had for you.

        Daryl spent the rest of that night by your side, a large gesture for someone who tended to avoid social gatherings. You ate food, chatted with people, opened up about silly little things you would have never thought anyone cared to hear. You drank, giggled, laughed, danced, and for the first time in a long time -- maybe ever -- had a good time.

[tenjikubaby]

i say let them cook 🔥🔥🔥

I have returned from the dead. Happy Izana and Mocchi anime debut + other Tenjiku member crumbs! Here, have a post that has been cooking in my drafts. 

RAN

Ran, cooking for himself, would go for easy, “lazy” recipes if ordering takeout wasn’t an option. If he’s cooking for you, though, he would want to impress. He’ll browse a bunch of recipe lists on his laptop and pick the most impressive-looking dishes thinking that cooking them “can’t be that hard.”

Goes on a trip to the grocery store for fresh ingredients, but soon finds out, after procrastinating his cooking that a) he got the wrong condiment/spice, or b) got the wrong cut of meat, or c) forgot a very important ingredient so Rindou kinda just finds his usually calm brother panicking in the kitchen because he doesn’t really want to disappoint. He soon regrets ever appearing because Ran sends him to the grocery store to get the right ingredients. 

Rindou’s troubles did not end there because Ran had him help out in the cooking process when the guy just wanted to play video games.  “Rindou, which one is the cilantro again?” “Rindou, slice the carrots.” “Rindou, why aren’t the slices even?” “Rindou, this is too salty. I think you oversea—” and poor Rin kind of just loses it.

RINDOU

He and Ran have the money to constantly eat out or order takeout, but ever since Rindou started following a diet, he’s learned to cook healthy dishes for himself. He’ll probably want to fix up something healthy for you too. What can I say, he cares about your health! Might actually scold you if he finds out you’ve been eating fatty stuff too often.

Rindou proposed the idea to you without thinking and didn’t expect you to agree so now he has to deliver! The pressure he feels to perform is no joke--like Ran, he would rather eat coal than disappoint his expectant S/O.

He’s a decent enough cook, more okay with getting his hands dirty than Ran. He’s no Kakucho, but he gets along just fine. If he can make food that’s edible and nutritious, then that’s good, right? But because of you, Rindou finds himself watching a bunch of how-to videos before the day of the house date.

Will be over the moon if you liked what he made! Eats up the praise and feels really good about himself. Does a dorky little fist pump and a deep sigh of relief once out of your sight. 

SHION

Shion always goes for fast food/junk food if not eating over at someone else’s place or bullying people into giving him money for food. This guy cannot cook. He’d have to ask for help from another S62 member for this. He tries to ask Mocchi, Mucho, Rindou, and even Izana but they all just refer him to Kaku. Shion would rather die before asking someone younger than him for help. I mean, Kaku is already stronger and better than him at fighting and he’s bitter about that. It takes you telling him that you’re looking forward to his dish that he finally gives in, swallows his pride, and asks for help.

Shion was a difficult student. He’s the type to keep insisting that he already knows all the procedures and cooking terms only to fail at them horribly. It takes all of Kaku’s patience for them to get through the recipe. 

When he gets something right, Shion starts to idealize cooking. He imagines himself finding a new passion in cooking, imagining Gordon Ramsay praising his dish, and running his own restaurant but this all stops when Kaku tells him to fry an egg.

IZANA

If he’s feeling stressed about preparations, the other Tenjiku boys have no choice but to help or else he’s going to make it everyone’s problem. They can even pinch stuff from your feast if they want.

Probably saves a bunch of recipes and has trouble deciding which ones to cook for you because he wants to make them all. Kaku helps him settle on a few easy dishes (”No, Izana. We can’t make Risotto. That’s difficult for beginners.”)

I’d place him at a spot higher than Rindou and Ran if we were to rank them all. Izana doesn’t really need that much help figuring out how things are done if he’s never done them before. Would feel more confident attempting to experiment in the kitchen. Has a thing for decorating too.

To buy ingredients, he would use his gang money to get everything he needs. For you, he’ll go for fancier/pricier than what he usually gets for himself. Would not just cook one dish as well. Would make up an entire feast for the both of you. Likes a dinner date with lights and everything. Might even play his guitar for you or put on a movie.

KAKUCHO

You don’t even need to ask Kaku to cook for you because he’ll want to do it the moment he falls in love. Anniversaries are where he’d prepare a whole candlelit dinner for the two of you. There’d be a full-course meal consisting of food you both enjoy.

Like Rindou, Kaku can be health-conscious (though I’d say Rindou is stricter on himself), and would want to make nutritious stuff for you. He’s got this double standard where he’s okay with eating really unhealthy food from time to time but doesn’t want you to do the same.

He’d be more prepared than the others. Kaku takes note of any allergies you may have, or ingredients that you love/hate. He knows how to deal with picky eaters too. If you hate some veggies because of their texture, then he’ll find a way to make them you-friendly.

MOCCHI

I headcanon that he goes to the gym with Rindou and Kaku and has traded recipes with them once in a while though Mocchi would eat anything from healthy to unhealthy, because he can “work it all off” anyway.

Mocchi’s a great cook. His dishes are more of the homey, hearty comfort food type. He learned to cook from his mom, so a lot of the stuff he makes were recipes learned from her. It’s also kind of a way for him to share his childhood with his loved one/s.

If you like corn like he does, then good for you! He’ll find a way to put corn in any and every dish he makes. For him, you just can never go wrong with corn. But if you don’t like corn, he’d be unable to comprehend that fact for a while before deciding to adjust his recipes for you.

MUCHO

Mucho would be great at desserts. He dreams to run a cafe someday, so he has learned to cook and bake and make coffee early on. In fact, I think he’d make you try a lot of these recipes before putting them on his future cafe menu. 

He takes this all really seriously and it’s endearing. He asks for your constructive criticism after you try the food and makes sure to create a good ambiance where you’re eating too. To top it all off, he’ll even play some relaxing instrumentals in the background!

Each dish in the meal complements each other wonderfully. He selects the perfect side dishes to go with what, and the perfect drink and dessert to go with it all. It’s such a well-planned meal and you can tell he really put thought into it. 

There is a soft smile on his face as he watches you enjoy the food. He’s a big Acts of Service guy, I just know it.