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domjaehyun · 6 months ago

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the boy is mine (l.dh) — part two

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.3k 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 two!! important to note: part 2 picks up from the same day as part 1 ends on! 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 subway’s more packed than usual as you all head back to your and Yunjin’s apartment, the nine of you getting so separated that you can’t even see anyone from your friend group besides Yunjin, who’s standing in front of you with her bag in your lap.

“Be careful with him.” Yunjin’s voice and its underlying warning cuts through your reverie and catches your attention on the moderately packed subway car.

“With who?” you ask, hoping it’s not who you’re thinking about—but, really, who else could it possibly be about?

She rolls her eyes. “Haechan.” she stresses his name, watching carefully to see your reaction. When you remain neutral in expression, she relaxes slightly, seemingly satisfied. “You two disappeared from the museum group, like, immediately, and when you magically reappear, he’s giving you bedroom eyes and you won’t even meet his gaze.”

”He keeps talking about getting closer to me.” you admit quietly, and she raises her eyebrows.

”Yeah, well, don’t let him get too close. He’s not on the market.”

”It’s not like that—” you start, but stop halfway.

For me. It’s not like that for me.

Which, of course, begs two questions: what is it for you? What does Haechan think it is?

You shift uncomfortably in your seat before sighing loudly and waving her off dismissively.

”Don’t worry,” you assure her, smiling confidently for good measure. “I’ve got my eye on him.”

“Well, he’s definitely got his on you, too, so look out.” she chuckles, and you frown.

“Well, why don’t you talk to him, then?” you ask. “Tell him to stop… exhibiting behaviors and acting in ways.”

She looks at you for a moment, almost like she can’t comprehend what she’s looking at.

“I am gonna tell him to stop looking at you with heart eyes, especially right in front of his girlfriend. I was on the fence about it because he and I aren’t crazy close, though.” she worries aloud, nibbling her bottom lip.

The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and the man beside you stands and exits the train, Yunjin immediately plopping down in the now empty space.

“That might make it better,” you muse. “If you’re not even that close to him and you come up to him all stern and ‘keep your distance,’ then he might listen!”

“Or he might tell me to mind my business.” she points out with a wry smile, and you pause, thinking it over.

“He might not—well— …Well, all we can do is take it one day at a time and see how it pans out.” you say, the anxious feeling in your chest fading by the minute.

“So true,” Yunjin agrees as she leans back to rest her head on the wall behind her.

As if the universe chose this moment to display its excellent timing, the doors open at the next stop and a small group of men get on, all holding instruments.

“Oh, no.” you mumble as the doors close and the men get into position. Within seconds, loud mariachi music fills the subway car and Yunjin jolts awake from her almost-slumber, her eyes wide in alarm.

You and Yunjin look at each other, exchanging wordless glances.

“The next stop is walking distance to the house,” Yunjin observes, and you wrinkle your nose at the thought of walking the rest of the way home.

“We can just switch cars in the opposite direction they go in.” you suggest, and she nods in agreement.

“Good plan.” Yunjin leans back against the wall and puts her headphones in both of her ears, with you following suit moments later.

As you two wait for the next stop, you listen to your music, attempting to drown out the raucous band in the subway car less than fifteen feet from you. As the song ‘Lowkey’ by Teyana Taylor and Erykah Badu starts to play, you find yourself getting lost in the music, immersing yourself in the melody and lyrics.

got a question for you if i let you, would you make a move? (make a move, make a move) what you're doin' to me, feel like you're feelin' me i think i feel you too

You grimace, the lyrics hitting a bit too close to home, but keep listening anyway.

lowkey want you by my side and i know you're down to ride but you don't belong to i know you're just a friend of mine but i’m wanting more inside and i know it feels so good but it also ain't right—

You finally skip the song with a deep set scowl and, as Megan Thee Stallion comes on shuffle, try not to think about the devilishly handsome male that seems to be hellbent on getting your attention, both consciously and subconsciously.

“What are we ordering, by the way?” Yunjin asks as she sprawls out on your couch. “I’m thinking of that little halal truck nearby; they’ve got all sorts of stuff, but I just want lamb and rice.”

“What about that even better halal place like 20 minutes away?” you offer, and various murmurs of agreement sound out.

“Yeah, but I kind of don’t want to wait for them.” Yunjin frowns, and you mirror her expression.

“You have to wait anyway; why not wait a little longer for objectively better food?” you suggest.

She looks up thoughtfully. “I mean, yeah…” She turns slightly to address the group, asking, “what do you guys think?”

“I’m down for halal a little further away,” Haechan chimes in immediately, and you bite back a snicker at his readiness to agree with you.

Gradually, everyone makes their divided choices in food and you and Yunjin place the orders for delivery before trying to settle on something to watch.

“If we watch something scary, literally who is going to hold me?” Chenle complains, and you snicker loudly.

“Mark can hold you,” you offer, and he glowers at you before looking over at Mark, who’s already shaking his head.

“So much for that.” Chenle groans.

“Y’know, does the movie we watch tonight have to be scary?” Seulgi pipes up, and you shake your head.

“I don’t think so! It could be a comedy or something; it doesn’t even have to be Halloween themed.” you answer, and she nods in understanding.

“We could watch Hocus Pocus, though…” Jeno suggests, trailing off but still hopeful.

“Hocus Pocus is so good, actually?” you say in slow realization, and Jeno beams, happy to be heard.

“How about we start with Hocus Pocus and watch, like, Twitches next?” Mark suggests, and you all manage to agree, everyone else settling in on the couch and the floor as Yunjin starts loading up the movie.

“Is there a specific reason why we’re watching Halloween movies in the peak of spring?” Haechan asks curiously.

“Same reason I’m having a Halloween party in the peak of spring,” you explain. “I love dressing up and missed my chance to celebrate with my friends when I was abroad, so I’m doing it now.”

Your phone buzzes, so you check it to see a notification that the halal restaurant has received and is preparing your order.

“Do we wanna start the movie now or when the food actually gets here?” you question, and there’s a pause as everyone stops to think.

“Yeah. we should wait,” Chaewon agrees, and you smile.

“In the meantime, I’m going to keep decorating.” you announce, standing up and heading towards the kitchen.

“Need any help?” Jeno asks, and you spot Haechan from the corner of your eye as he turns his head to watch you two intently.

“Mm, no, I should be fine,” you assure him, squeezing his forearm gently (and marveling at how defined and solid his muscles are).

“Okay,” he says, sounding slightly disappointed, but still shoots you a bright smile. “Let me know if you change your mind?”

“Will do,” you promise with a smile before turning on your heel and continuing your route to the kitchen, doing your best to ignore the way you can practically feel Haechan’s gaze on your retreating back.

You make your way to your kitchen drawer, pulling out the decorative banner you finished making last night and heading to your apartment doorway, starting to attach the letters to the wall so any guests that enter will see it instantly.

You’ve already made decent progress in preparing for the party, various cobwebs decoratively strewn around the living room and black silhouettes of bats tastefully hung on the walls. You’re not big on the decorations, but you do want it to feel like it’s a Halloween party, so here you are.

You have a relatively clear vision for how you want your apartment to look, and you don’t necessarily need anyone’s help making your vision come to life. That’s precisely why you freeze when Haechan’s presence appears from beside you as he observes your handiwork.

“What are you doing, Haechan?” Your words are questioning, but your voice is flat and unamused as he picks up a set of cobweb fluff and starts detangling it.

He grins at you, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Getting myself an invite to your Halloween party by helping out.”

Turning your nose up, you sniff in disdain and turn back around to affix the next letters in your “Trick or Treat” sign. “Who says I’m inviting you?”

“We’re friends?” He says it like you’re stupid, and you narrow your eyes even though he can’t see you.

“Your girlfriend is my friend.” you point out all without turning around. “Remember her?”

He scoffs. “Do you?”

You look back at him indignantly, setting down your letters and turning to face him fully. In the limited space between you two, Haechan leans forward with a little challenging glint in his eye. “What kind of dumbass question is that? I brought her up!”

He steps closer, placing his hands on either side of your frame, a devilishly handsome smirk curling his lips. “But you’re still here.”

“This is my home… that I’m decorating for my party… why would I leave?”

“You know damn well what I mean.”

He’s got you there. You roll your eyes in the hope of masking your defeat. “So?” you huff.

“A good friend would have left me over here by now.” He lifts his eyebrows as if to drive his point home.

You’re lost for words, opening and closing your mouth to voice a rebuttal that never comes. His eyes glint with mischief and victory, but you can’t find it in you to be annoyed with him.

“Well,” you sniff, turning your nose up, “a good boyfriend wouldn’t be over here to begin with.”

He chuckles, his head tipping back as his shoulders shake with amusement. Nodding slowly, he leans closer to you as if he isn’t already entirely invading your personal space. “Touché,” he murmurs with a grin, and his plain, bold, unapologetic admission of guilt takes you by surprise as well as intrigues you.

“Well, we’re both bad,” you reply carefully, nibbling at your bottom lip absentmindedly.

(You do not miss the way his gaze drops to your mouth and lingers there with an almost palpable longing. Hopefully, he misses the way you almost do the same.)

i want it but this ain’t the right time

“Yeah,” he mumbles in agreement, and you truly don’t think you’ve ever seen someone want to kiss you as badly as he does. He’s looking at you like it’s all he’s ever thought about—looking at you like one kiss could save his life, like your lips have the answer to a question he’s always wondered, and the slow creeping in of the realization has your body warming with desire.

but damn it, you’re so fine so take me tonight

“What now?” you ask, voice husky with want, and he blinks, gaze flicking up to your eyes and from the way his stare intensifies, you know you’ve been found out.

now hold me a lot on the line, please don’t play with my mind

“We can at least be bad together,” he supplies unhelpfully, a devious little grin curling his lips as he leans closer to you.

ooh, i gotta decline

In the distance, someone laughs loudly—you’re willing to bet it’s Mark—and the realization of your surroundings and just how dangerous this is has you pressing a hand to his chest and pushing him back gently.

He doesn’t move at first, and you watch as the slight pressure of your manicured nails into his chest sends his eyes rolling back into his head. When he refocuses on you, his eyes are heavy-lidded with intensity and you swallow thickly.

“You’re flirting.” you warn him, barely able to conceal your growing amusement.

He grins at the sight of you trying to hide your smile and the tension eases, so you use the opportunity to push more firmly and separate the two of you. You turn back around to put up the last two letters of your sign, only for his sudden presence right by your ear to send you jolting. He whispers his message so quickly and quietly you could have almost missed it, but the words linger in your mind, echoing off the walls until it’s all you can think about.

“You’re letting me.”

As you continue to decorate your apartment, Haechan comes around far more often than you think necessary—either calling himself “assisting” in small ways with lingering touches—

(“Haechan, you’re not slick,” you huff as he brushes up behind you for far too long, allegedly helping you hang a cobweb, “you’re pressing up against me.”

Instead of moving back, his lips find your ear and he murmurs, audibly grinning, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“If you don’t get—” you scoff, turning to swat at him, but he dances away smoothly, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.)

—or making flirtatious remarks—

(“Hey, do you have gum?” Haechan asks seemingly out of the blue, and you set your decorations down before heading to your cupboard and offering him two cubes of gum from your little stash. “Thanks,” he grins as he pops the gum into his mouth and chews.

“Gum’s gonna ruin your appetite,” you warn him. “The food’s almost here.”

“I don’t want it for long,” he assures you, and you raise your eyebrows as if to say, “Is that so?”

“So you plan on wasting my gum?” you ask with playfully narrowed eyes, and he shakes his head, coming closer and closer to you until he’s got you cornered against the counter.

“Never that,” he promises. “Just wanted an idea of what it’d taste like to kiss you.”

You gasp, successfully making contact with his chest when you swipe at him this time, pushing him back so he’s resting against your kitchen island about three feet from you. “Haechan!”

“Would you rather I do this, or should I just come a little closer and find out for myself?” he asks with his eyebrows raised, and you balk, swallowing thickly.

“Stay back and chew.” you quip, and he grins, making a loud, obnoxious show of chewing his gum.

“Tastes good,” he compliments, and you roll your eyes. “Really good.”

“Get out before I launch something at you,” you threaten, but both sets of ears can hear the emptiness behind it.

Haechan has the nerve to giggle mischievously before obliging and exiting the kitchen, leaving you to sigh loudly and attempt to calm the heat rising to your cheeks.)

—or just being an overall flirt.

(“So, what are you gonna be for your Halloween party?” he asks as you bustle around your kitchen tidying up the leftover decoration equipment you’ve left out.

“Haechan, all our friends—and your girlfriend—are in the next room.”

“And?”

“And,” you continue, glowering at him, “you should be in there, too.”

“But you’re in here.” he points out.

“I’m busy.” you explain, and he shrugs.

“Well, then I’m busy, too.” he echoes.

You blink at him. “Doing what?”

“Entertaining you? Keeping you company?” he answers slowly, like you’re dumb, and you can’t help but narrow your eyes.

“I’m not entertained.” you deadpan, and he snorts.

“Then why do you keep looking over here?” He raises an eyebrow challengingly, and you huff.

“You’re distracting me,” you complain, and he frowns, picking up a forkful of food and offering it to you.

“I’m nourishing you,” he insists, offering the food more insistently.

“I have my own food,” you brush him off, and he rolls his eyes.

“Mine is different. And possibly even better.” he sing-songs. “Now try.”

“Haechan—”

“I’m about to spill rice and sauce all over your neat and tidy floor if you don’t put this fork in your mouth in the next three seconds.” he warns, and you growl in mild irritation before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his fork. “Isn’t that good?” he asks eagerly, fully aware of the answer, and you can’t help but nod in agreement, the flavors of the chicken, rice, and white sauce dancing on your tongue as you chew and swallow.

“You have a hard time taking no for an answer.” you point out dryly, staring at him blankly. “Does this crop up in other aspects of your life?”

He bursts out laughing. “I definitely have a hard time taking no, but only if the person saying no clearly means yes.”

You scoff incredulously and cross your arms, leaning against the counter as you regard him.

“And how, pray tell, would you know if they mean yes, all-knowing Reader of Minds?”

He steps closer and slowly places his hands on either side of you, meeting your gaze with a soft intensity that you find more unnerving than the more lust-filled gazes he’s sent your way.

“It’s in their body language. For example: you always say you want me to step back and get out of your space, but you let me get into your space virtually every time.” His voice lowers to a soft murmur, and you suddenly can’t meet his gaze. “It’s the way you still haven’t moved either one of us despite me bringing to your attention how close we are.” he observes. “It’s also,” he says, tilting your head up by the chin so you’re looking at each other, “in the eyes.”

Your mouth feels dry. “The eyes?”

He nods, gently brushing a piece of hair from your face and stroking your cheek gently before lowering his hand. “Like the way you look at my lips after I look at yours.”

Fuck.

“I don’t know what you mean.” you lie, and he chuckles.

“It’s okay, baby. I know exactly what I’m talking about.” he assures you with such a level of confidence that it takes you aback. “Y’know, sometimes, I catch you looking before I’ve even looked.”

“Wh— don’t you have someone else you can entertain, or keep company, or—or nourish?” you complain, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“You want me to go?” he asks, keen eyes bright and studying your reaction.

“Yes.” you reply immediately, and he, contrary to your expectations, grins.

“I’ll go, I guess. I suppose I could spare those guys a crumb of attention.” he relents, and you nod eagerly.

“Give ‘em the whole loaf of attention.” you say, and he rolls his eyes with a smile.

“I’m going, I’m going. But by the way,” he says before he leans closer, prompting you to lean back suddenly in alarm, “I know you lied.”

He exits the room just a moment after, a second too late to catch the surprise on your face at his catching you in your bluff.

You groan inwardly and finish tidying up your kitchen to head into the living room, all the while wondering if Haechan was sent by the universe to teach you some sort of divine lesson.)

It’s later in the evening and you’re all sitting around the living room when Winter stretches and yawns, sitting up slightly in her seat.

“All that food made me tired,” she laughs and you can feel Haechan’s body tense slightly beside you, the male sitting up a little straighter as he waits—for what, you don’t know, but he seems to find it inevitable. “I think I’m gonna head home in a bit,” she says with a small frown, and it’s actually upsetting the way Haechan deflates. Looking over at Haechan from across the room, she smiles hopefully. “Will you take me home?”

Haechan nods with a small, tight-lipped smile that you’re surprised his own girlfriend can’t see through. Winter stands, saying something about freshening up, and heads down the hallway, Haechan waiting for her retreating figure to disappear before he sighs deeply.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” Haechan mumbles, shooting a loaded glance in your direction before standing up as well and stretching before heading to your apartment’s entryway to get his coat and shoes.

You stand and head over to the kitchen to put away your now empty container of food, only slightly aware of Seulgi following after you.

“I feel kind of bad for Haechan,” you say with a frown, and Seulgi hums in acknowledgement.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” she asks, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s something more to her tone, something that feels like she’s leading you to understand something, but you’re not entirely sure what she’s hinting at, so you just brush it off.

”I mean, he clearly doesn’t wanna leave yet.” you reply, and she hums again, longer than before.

“Did he tell you that?” she questions, and you pause, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“He didn’t have to,” you answer slowly. “I could tell just from looking at him.”

“I see,” she replies with a nod, and you slowly resume your task of tidying up until she asks, “do you do that often?”

“Seulgi, please stop speaking in code.” you half-chuckle, half-sigh. “Do I do what?”

“Look at him.”

You tilt your head, taken aback and more confused than before and, suddenly, a bit defensive. “No more than the average person?”

“You sure about that?” she asks carefully and you set the now cleaned out container down a bit harder than you meant to before you turn to look at her.

“Seulgi. What are you hinting at?” you decide to come right out with it, not a fan of dodging the actual topic.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of… weird… how Haechan keeps paying attention to you and, like, not his girlfriend?” she asks finally, and it takes everything in you not to react visibly.

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” you fib, and she raises her eyebrow skeptically. “You got all this from me saying the guy doesn’t wanna go home?”

“I got all this from him. The way he looks at you, the way he deliberately makes it his mission to sit beside or near you all the time or find any reason to sneak off with you…” she trails off, and you’re silent for a moment before sighing. “I’m just saying to be careful.”

“I just got back, Seulgi—I’m not trying to ruffle any feathers.” you say sincerely, and she nods, seemingly satisfied.

“I’m more worried about him trying to fly the coop.” she chuckles, albeit a bit worriedly, and you nod.

“I get you,” you reply. “I’ll be careful.”

She puts her hands up in surrender. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

But as she leaves the kitchen, you can’t help but wonder if it’s too late.

“Not to be dramatic,” you start, “but if Mr. Insufferable doesn’t leave soon, things might get violent.”

“Don’t say that!” your favorite library volunteer says. “He’s definitely leaving soon.”

“Oh, and one more thing—” an all too familiar voice emerges seemingly from the shadows, and your lovely little volunteer flinches before looking around anxiously.

“Save yourself,” you reply glumly. “I’ll talk to him, just reshelve these books for me?”

She obliges, pushing the cart towards the bookshelves, and you spin around in your chair, confirming that your annoying-as-all-hell boss is, in fact, approaching before turning back around and resuming your work.

“When will you be checking these books back in?” he asks with thinly veiled impatience as he gestures at the stack of books still left on the counter.

“Given that I’ve been checking books back in for the past fifteen minutes,” you reply just as bluntly, “in a second.”

“Well, make sure they go back right. You’re not in Oxford anymore—I’m not intimately aware of their filing system, but over here we enjoy the good ol’ Dewey Decimal system.”

You sigh heavily. “They use the Dewey Decimal system.” Your response is flat and thoroughly unamused, even as your boss laughs obnoxiously.

“Do they really?” your boss exclaims, surprised. “Well, let’s hope you remember—”

“I’m not going to magically forget the entirety of how to do my job after spending several months abroad doing… my literal job.” you retort brusquely.

Your boss is silent for a moment and you fear you’ve gone too far before he hums thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s fair. Well, I’m off for the night. I expect every task assigned to you to be completed when I return.”

“Night.” you mutter bitterly, and he bids you a curt goodbye before exiting the library. You wait for the door to shut fully before heaving a large sigh and collapsing against your chair. “‘I’m not intimately aware of their filing system—’ Well, how about you become intimately aware of my foot up your ass—” you grumble to yourself.

While you’re slightly less annoyed in your boss’s absence, you’re now… bored. Your favorite volunteer is the only other one on the clock with you right now, and reshelving those books will take her at least an hour, leaving you alone and understimulated.

Almost as if the universe could hear your pleas for entertainment, the door of the library opens and in walks none other than Jeno and Haechan. Jeno locks eyes with you instantly, offering a bright smile and a wave, while Haechan scans the room until his eyes finally land on you behind the desk and he grins, shooting you a surreptitious wink that has you struggling not to roll your eyes.

They finally approach the desk, Jeno leaning his torso against it while Haechan rests his elbow on the counter and rests his chin in his palm, and you can’t help but smile at their bright dispositions.

“Hey, guys! What brings you to the library?” you greet them.

“I just finished taking my lunch and thought I’d stop by to say hi before my next class.” Jeno explains, and you hum in understanding.

“What about you?” you ask Haechan curiously, trying to hide your suspicion, and he smiles wider, a glint in his eyes that confirms your hunch that he’s up to no good.

“I don’t start work at the restaurant for another two hours, so I was walking around outside and I ran into Jeno over here, and we got to talking, and he told me he was coming to see you, so I thought, ‘Hey; can’t pass that opportunity up.’” Haechan replies, his nonchalant tone completely contrasting the intent, almost longing way he’s staring at you; he’s so intense, as a matter of fact, that you have no choice but to break eye contact and look back at Jeno, who seems to be none the wiser of what just happened.

“Great,” you say slowly, a hesitant smile making its way to your lips. “Well, welcome to our lovely library.”

“You gonna give us a tour?” Haechan asks with a playful smile, and you snicker as you shake your head.

“No, because that would involve moving from my very comfortable chair.” you reply, and he pouts.

“Come on, I’ll push you around and you direct me!” he offers, and you snort.

“I think if these students saw their librarian being pushed around in a computer chair by some guy, they’d lose all respect for me, and we can’t have that.” you sigh.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Jeno chimes in. “Well, what are you up to?”

“I was reading some astrology hot takes online,” you confess with a sheepish smile. “Nothing too important.”

“I don’t know much about astrology,” Jeno admits with a bashful laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just know I’m a Taurus, but I don’t know what that means.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a Taurus,” you agree with a nod. “That’s a good thing, by the way—at least, it is to me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeno asks, and you nod.

“Well, just off the top of my head, Tauruses are often reliable, honest, steadfast, and have a special appreciation for the finer things in life.” you explain. “Basically like the perfect partner, if you ask me.”

As Jeno’s cheeks redden from the compliment, Haechan scowls deeply and sucks his teeth.

“Boring! Where’s the excitement? What about Geminis?” he asks, and you blink slowly at him before sighing loudly and dramatically.

“Geminis are dynamic social butterflies and have a bad reputation for being two-faced and disloyal.” you say, meeting Haechan’s gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

“I’m not two-faced!” he protests, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Are we admitting to being disloyal, king?” you tease, and Jeno chuckles as Haechan huffs. “Jeno’s Taurus ass could never,” you point out, and Haechan bristles at yet another comparison to the male beside him.

“Jeno’s Taurus ass wouldn’t know a good time if it smacked him upside the head.” he mutters bitterly, and Jeno frowns.

“Jeno’s Taurus ass can and frequently does have a wonderful time at parties,” you retort, turning to the male in question. “Isn’t that right, Jeno?”

“Yeah, I love a good party,” he says with a wistful smile.

“Geminis are the life of the party.” Haechan counters smugly, continuing on as if Jeno hadn’t spoken. “We’re fun and spontaneous—”

“Are you spontaneous, or are you just impulsive and reckless?” you ask, feigning curiosity.

Haechan’s eyes flash with something bright and intense. “My hindsight happens to be 20/20.”

“Isn’t everyone’s?” you drawl, bored. “Well, Jeno’s Taurus ass—”

“Oh, brother,” Haechan groans.

“—can look before he leaps and therefore not wind up busting his ass.”

“Yeah, well, Jeno’s Taurus ass has no ass, so—”

“Hey!” Jeno squawks indignantly.

“Now what did that have to do with anything, you brute?” you round on Haechan, who’s grinning with satisfaction.

“Of course he’s not gonna bust his ass—he has no ass to begin with!” Haechan snickers, and Jeno crosses his arms, brows furrowing.

“If I’d known I was just gonna get ass-shamed, I wouldn’t have brought you here.” Jeno gripes at Haechan, and you turn your attention to him with an apologetic smile.

“Jeno, Haechan’s just jealous.” you say, and Haechan snorts loudly.

“Of what? His long back?”

“Haechan, shut up—” you turn to glare at him and he, unseen by Jeno, shoots you a dazzling grin and a wink that, unfortunately for you, seems to be nothing short of debilitating as you suck in a sharp breath and freeze momentarily in place.

You’ve gotta hand it to him; Haechan really is charming.

You’re pulled out of your momentary daze when Haechan clears his throat pointedly, snapping you out of it enough to realize that you’ve been staring directly at Haechan for the past minute or so. His gaze is teasing, playful—sultry, even—as he lifts his eyebrows expectantly.

“You good?” he asks slowly, and you narrow your eyes at him, huffing slightly and looking towards Jeno.

“‘M fine,” you mumble dismissively, and refocus your attention on the slightly sulking male in front of you. “Jeno?”

“Mm?” he hums distractedly, and you catch as Haechan rolls his eyes from the corner of your eye.

“What you may lack in ass, you make up for with your face,” you reassure him, and he chuckles, the sound a bit shy.

(Slightly off to the side, Haechan makes a loud gagging noise. He is ignored.)

“Yeah?” he asks, and you nod confidently.

“For sure.” you agree earnestly. “Does that make you feel any better?”

“Loads,” he assures you, and you smile.

“Haechan’s a brat, just ignore him—”

“Hey!” Haechan complains, but you keep talking over him.

“—that’s what I do.” you explain, and Jeno laughs good-naturedly, seemingly back in good spirits, before his eyes drift to the wall behind you and his brows furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“Is that clock accurate?” he asks, pointing at the analog clock behind you as worry creeps into his voice, and you turn to check before turning back around with a nod.

“I mean, it’s a minute or two slow, but aren’t most clocks?” you reply, confused by the shift in conversation.

Jeno unlocks his phone for a second, confirming the time, and his eyes widen in alarm before he stands up straight and starts speed-walking backwards to the exit.

“Oh, shit—I totally lost track of time,” he admits, frowning apologetically. “I have to go get ready for my next class.”

“No worries, Jeno,” you assure him with a warm smile that he returns. “Thank you for coming to visit me; it really means a lot.”

“Anytime. Enjoy work! I’ll see you later.” he bids you farewell, gives Haechan a small two-finger salute, and exits the library, quickly rounding the corner out of sight.

There’s a moment of silence during which you get the feeling that you probably shouldn’t look at Haechan, but he seems to be one step ahead of you, already clearing his throat obnoxiously loudly to get your attention. When you slide your gaze over to him, he’s walking around the desk to join you behind it with a winning smile.

Pointing at the empty rolling chair beside you, he asks, “Is this seat taken?”

“Would you listen to me if I said yes?” you ask, and he chuckles to himself before pulling the chair out and plopping down in it unceremoniously.

“Nope.”

“Great,” you huff with amusement before turning your attention back to your computer. However, it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the way Haechan’s gaze practically burns a hole into the side of your face, so you sigh as loudly and dramatically as is socially acceptable in a private school library and look over at him. “What?”

“Why is it that Jeno finally leaves, and you go silent?” he questions, confused.

“‘Finally’ is crazy, actually.” You can’t help but laugh at his bluntness. “That’s your friend!”

“You can’t honestly tell me you’re upset that goober left just now.” he asks, tone bordering on bewildered, and you bark out a laugh at his creative word choice before clapping a hand over your mouth. “See?!”

“He’s not a goober! You’re terrible,” you can’t help but giggle, and he grins widely before he seems to remember something and points at you accusingly.

“You’re the terrible one,” he counters, sniffling dramatically. “You were flirting with him right in front of me!”

“Haechan, that shouldn’t matter to you.” you say with a roll of your eyes. “You have a girlfriend.”

“Well, it does matter to me.” he huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly. “I don’t wanna sit here while you stroke Jeno’s—”

“You’d better finish that sentence with the word ‘ego.’” you warn him, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I was going to.”

“Okay, good.” you reply, blinking at him impassively.

“Great.”

“Wonderful.”

“Excellent.” Haechan retorts, and you roll your eyes.

“Synonyms.”

Haechan barks out a laugh at that, and it draws a laugh out from you as well, the two of you laughing as quietly as you can manage. When he manages to compose himself, he shoots you a suggestive look, complete with a wiggle of his brows, and turns slightly in his chair so he’s completely facing you.

“Now that it’s just you and me,” he starts as he rolls his chair closer to yours, hooking his foot around the base of your chair so you can’t roll away, and tilts his head to the side to take in the sight of you. “I just want to say that you look exceptionally good today.”

“Thank you,” you say politely before attempting to turn your chair towards your computer—all to no avail, as Haechan still has you locked in place. “Can I help you?” Something about the ridiculousness of it all has you holding back laughter, which Haechan seems to take as encouragement.

“You’re really cute when you’re annoyed, you know that, right?” he murmurs, tracing circles on the back of your hand.

“That’s so great to know,” you sigh, dragging out your words for emphasis. “Did you forget I am at my place of work? The very place where I am expected to—and this may come as a shock to you—do work?”

Haechan’s eyes widen comically in horror. “You’re telling me they make a pretty girl like you do work?”

You bite back a giggle. “Precisely.”

“Oh, the humanity!” he wails, falling back in his chair with the back of his hand to his forehead like he’s fainting, and you can’t hold it back any longer, bursting into a fit of laughter as quiet as you can manage.

“Will you keep it down? You’re gonna get me in trouble.” you half-whisper, half-scold through your laughter.

“No, I will not be silenced!” he whispers loudly, and you roll your eyes as your lips tremble to hold back your laugh. “Making pretty girls do work is inhumane. Y’know, I bet there’s a union for that.” he posits, and you snort in amusement.

“Be quiet before I get campus security to kick your butt out.” you warn, looking pointedly at the tall security guard walking by the library’s windows.

“Fine, I’ll lower my voice,” he finally admits defeat, and you sit back in your chair, pleased. “But don’t think I’m done with this.”

“Oh, would you please be done with it, actually?” you ask, batting your lashes coyly for effect. “You’re gonna draw too much attention, and I’m not really supposed to have guests back here.” You frown, bottom lip bordering dangerously on jutting out in a pout, and his gaze visibly softens, a fond smile curling his lips.

“Anything for you,” he relents, raising both hands in surrender, and you snort softly, feeling thoroughly entertained.

“Thanks so much.” you say sincerely, patting his knee and regretting it instantly when his gaze drops to your hand, now tentatively retracting from his leg, and his tongue slowly peeks out to wet his lips. “Haechan, you’re better than this.”

“Am I?” he asks in a murmur, gaze trained on your mouth so unwaveringly that warmth starts to spread throughout your body starting from your center and radiating out. “Are we sure about that?”

“You’d better be,” you warn him, pointing a scolding finger in his direction. “Security will yank you out of here with an old-time cane if you don’t quit being so…”

“So what?” he presses, and you growl under your breath.

“So… unfit for public consumption!” you retort, and he starts to laugh, the surprisingly pleasant sound building from within his chest.

“You’re too cute, seriously.” he chuckles, and you roll your eyes. “I’ll stop. For you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter petulantly, and he waves you off dismissively, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his limbs.

“So—who was that guy you were trying to explode with your mind earlier?” Haechan asks out of the blue, and you turn to him, spluttering defensively.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow, leaning closer.

“Do you often look at people like you want to see them suffer?” he asks skeptically, and you falter.

“That was my supervisor who’s not exactly my supervisor but thinks he’s my supervisor so he breathes down my neck all the time when he’s here.” you sigh, and Haechan winces.

“Making sure you’re doing your job?”

“Making sure he’s intimately aware of all the internal affairs of this hallowed library.” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I sent an email to a student about their library book almost being due and he wanted to know why he wasn’t CC’ed.”

“He sounds like he sucks,” Haechan says sympathetically, and you sigh deeply, already starting to feel better about the situation. “Well, hey, did he leave for the day?”

“He did,” you say with a smile. “I’m free for the next few hours.”

“What are you gonna do with your newfound freedom?” he asks playfully, nudging you with his knee, and you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t know… the world is my oyster now,” you gasp dramatically.

“The possibilities are endless.” Haechan agrees solemnly. “I’m overwhelmed for you, actually.”

You don’t bother to hold back the snicker that escapes you, and Haechan’s eyes light up at the sound, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You have a cute laugh.” he compliments with a fond smile, and you wrinkle your nose.

“Thanks,” you mutter, slightly skeptical. You think carefully about your interactions today and the words you’ve chosen to say to him. “You know—”

His phone starts to ring out on the table, and he snatches it off the table quickly, frowning.

“Sorry,” he says sincerely as he declines the call. “What were you going to say?” However, the person on the phone doesn’t seem to be done, his phone starting to buzz sporadically as they instead start to text him incessantly. “Jesus Christ—”

“Is it Winter?” you ask worriedly, and his brow furrows at the mention of her name, but he doesn’t comment further.

“No, it’s my coworker,” he answers with a small sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe you should check?” you supply helpfully, and he smiles apologetically at you as he picks up his phone to check his messages, giving you a moment to rethink your idea of telling him he’s starting to grow on you.

After a moment of reading, Haechan frowns deeply and sighs, prompting you to tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” you ask curiously.

“Looks like I gotta go.” he says unhappily, and you catch yourself mirroring his expression. His keen eyes catch your look of disappointment before you can wipe it from your face and he smiles teasingly. “Are you gonna miss me?”

You pause, thinking over your words carefully. “I appreciated the company.” you settle for saying, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, clearly unimpressed.

“You appreciated my company.” he corrects you, and you shrug dismissively, looking back down at your files. “You’re gonna miss me.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he says, popping his lips on the “p.” “Now say it.”

“No.”

“Say it,” he presses, and something about the shift in his tone intrigues you—it’s not a plaintive, whining request, as is typical of Haechan, but it’s confident, assertive, and… dominant.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you oblige, quietly mumbling, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He grins widely and rolls his chair closer to yours, so close that your knees are touching. “Say it again?”

“Haechan,” you complain, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“I can’t help it,” he defends himself. “You’re just so cute.” His voice drops lower on the last word, his intonation far too suggestive to brush off as a casual remark.

You blink twice, stunned by his forwardness, before you snap out of it and busy yourself with pretending to search for a file on your computer.

“Watch it, Haechan,” you warn finally, and he chuckles, leaning closer with his eyes carefully trained on you.

“I’d rather watch you.”

“Haechan.”

“It’s true.” he persists, shrugging. “You’re quite the looker.”

“Haechan, be quiet.” You desperately need him to shut up before you say something that could get you in trouble.

“I mean, just absolutely gorgeous,” he continues as if you haven’t spoken, and you let out a strangled yelp of alarm, shaking your head vehemently.

“You are so—”

“So what?” he’s on you before you can even properly abandon the sentence, eyes bright with mischief. “I’m so what? Say it.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” you remind him weakly, but he continues to stare at you expectantly.

“So what?”

“So dangerous,” you finish lamely, and he grins wider, sitting back in his chair as he radiates satisfaction.

“And you like that,” he says, watching you closely. “Don’t you?”

A beat of silence passes between you two before you sigh heavily. “If I say yes, will you stop tormenting me?”

He wiggles his eyebrows flirtatiously. “Only if you mean it.”

You growl under your breath and pinch the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes tightly before releasing a deep breath and reopening your eyes. “Maybe I like it a little bit.” You bring your index finger and thumb together in a pinching gesture with a minuscule amount of space between them. “This much.”

“Mm, yeah? Only that much?” he teases, and you glower at him.

“Only that much,” you assert, and his eyes scan your frame slowly, his tongue swiping along his lips leisurely as his gaze lingers on your lips, and you suck your teeth, reaching over and pushing his chair away from yours. “You have somewhere to be!”

“Fine, I’ll go,” he finally relents, standing up from his chair, and you sigh in relief. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Mm, maybe,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, attempting to recover some of your composure, and he fixes you in place with a disapproving scowl. “Haechan, get out before I throw this book at you.”

“I’m going,” he insists, heading for the door. He turns back just as he’s about to exit and says with a mischievous grin, “and you’re going to miss me.”

“Haechan, go!”

“I’ll miss you, too, by the way.” he says sincerely, and you act as if you’re reaching for the book to throw it at him, so he ducks out of the doorframe, his delighted laughter slowly fading as he leaves.

You sit there for a moment, desperately trying to calm the warmth in your cheeks and the smile that threatens to take over your whole face.

He really is dangerous.

Far, far, far later in the evening, you’re bored at home, Yunjin has gone to sleep for the night, and you have a gurgling feeling in your stomach that has your mind wandering to food options.

“What’s still open this late, though?” you mumble, scrolling through food delivery apps before a thought comes to you. Getting up from your couch, you excitedly step into your shoes and grab your wallet, keys, and coat before heading downstairs to the local Mexican food truck on your block.

The night air is expectedly brisk at 2:30am, so you pull your coat tighter around you as you purposefully speed-walk to the end of your block towards the bright lights of the truck currently serving guests. For a mobile shop, it’s surprisingly welcoming, with two tables with chairs set up in front of where you take orders, and the smells of meats and spices waft through the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.

You catch the eye of one of the men in the truck, who smiles and waves before beckoning you closer.

“Hey, how are you? Can I get a chicken quesadilla and an order of birria tacos, please?” you place your order, and the man taking your order nods as the other worker in the truck starts preparing your food.

You help yourself to a seat at one of the tables and pull out your phone, taking a picture of the food truck and posting it to your Instagram story with the caption “thank god they’re still open.”

It takes less than three minutes after your post goes live for your phone to buzz with a notification.

haechanahceah liked your story.

haechanahceah: what’d you get 👀

you: it’s a secret 😌

haechanahceah: gatekeeping is no fun :(

you: idk abt that i’m having a great time right now actually 🤔

you: what are you even doing up sir

haechanahceah: can’t sleep :(

haechanahceah: and “sir”….unless you wanna start something i don’t think you can finish, i wouldn’t call me that

you: has anyone ever told you you’re kind of full of yourself?

haechanahceah: nope :) maybe you wanna be full of me instead?

you: …don’t make me lose my appetite.

haechanahceah: speaking of appetite, i could go for something to eat 🤔 any recommendations?

you: hmmmmmmm i might know of a place

haechanahceah: oh yeah?

you: mhm :) it’s a little mexican food truck :) that i may or may not be sitting at right now :)

haechanahceah: the one by your building? on the corner of the block?

you: maybe 🧌

haechanahceah: say less i’m omw right now

you: i’ll see you soon then i suppose

It doesn’t take Haechan long at all to get to where you are; as a matter of fact, the cook hasn’t even finished your birria tacos by the time Haechan arrives.

“Hey,” Haechan greets you, sitting down beside you at the small table.

“Hi, stranger,” you reply lightheartedly, offering him a friendly smile.

Haechan rests his elbow on the table and his chin in his palm, studying you for a moment.

You let him look for a while without saying anything, only sparing him a glance once your patience runs out, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Can I help you with something?”

“Did you miss me?” Haechan asks in a teasing lilt, and you roll your eyes, laughing quietly to yourself.

“Maybe a little bit.” you admit, deciding to indulge him for once, and you don’t regret it—his face lights up as he beams at you, and you’re momentarily dazzled into silence, simply blinking at him in a mild daze.

“Good.” he replies, still smiling from ear to ear as he stands up to order. Leaning down so his mouth is by your ear, he murmurs, “I missed you, too,” before he steps forward to place his order.

A full body shudder travels down your spine from his proximity to your ear, and you shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself at his antics.

“What did you get?” you ask curiously when he returns to his seat.

“I got chicken flautas and a beef burrito.” he answers excitedly, and you can’t help but laugh fondly.

“You sound so eager.”

“I’m hungry,” he stresses, and you snort in amusement.

The cook holds out the bag of your food and you stand up to take it and thank him, noting with mild confusion that Haechan follows suit, following after you to the front of the truck.

As you take your bag of food from the cook’s hand, the man who initially took your order presents the portable card reader for you to pay, and Haechan reaches up and places his phone over the screen before you can even process what he’s doing.

“Did—Haechan.” you stammer in confusion as everything gradually starts to come together.

“Yes?” he sing-songs the response with an air of triumph that has you narrowing your eyes.

“Did you just pay for my food?”

“Sure did.” he confirms, nodding proudly.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say with a small frown, and he rolls his eyes before waving you off dismissively.

“I know. I wanted to.” he replies, and you let out a small sigh of defeat.

“Haechan, literally what am I going to do with you?”

“For now? You can sit and eat with me and keep me company.” he proposes hopefully, and a fond smile makes its way to your lips before you sigh dramatically and gingerly place your bag of food down on the table.

“I suppose I can do that.” you say slowly with a feigned air of reluctance, and there goes that knee-buckling smile of his again, your dangerously charming meal companion gesturing for you to sit down.

“Good. Now, how was your day after I left? Worse, right? Dull and boring and uninspiring in my absence, right?” he nods encouragingly at you and you can’t hold back the amused giggle that slips from your lips.

“Actually, yeah,” you sigh, casting a forlorn look at the ground, much to Haechan’s amusement. “My boss-that’s-not-my-real-boss stopped by again.”

“No way? What’s his deal?” Haechan looks genuinely offended on your behalf, and you can’t help but feel a little vindicated by his reaction.

“Literally no idea, Haechan,” you huff, frowning again at the unpleasant memory. When you look over at Haechan, he’s already looking at you, eyes soft and warm with a hint of amusement. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just so cute when you pout.” he admits, and you roll your eyes.

“I was not pouting.”

“You most definitely were.” he insists, sitting forward with a gleam in his eyes. “Sitting here with that bottom lip all cute and poked out and tempting me like that, and you think you’re not pouting?”

You fix your face. “Tempting you?”

“To just kiss you already.” he says in a low murmur, the words hanging in the air like a confession between the two of you.

“Don’t say things like that,” you mumble after a brief silence.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he counters with a nonchalant shrug. “Now, what did your boss-that’s-not-really-your-boss want?”

“God, Haechan,” you launch into your complaint eagerly, relieved to have a shift in conversation, “can you believe he ‘forgot his water bottle’ then hovered for ages making sure I was checking the books back in and setting them aside to be reshelved?”

Haechan scoffs. “If he wants it done a certain way or at a certain time, then he should—”

“Do it himself!” you finish the end of Haechan’s sentence with him, feeling more than validated enough from your mini venting session. “Exactly! Ugh, see, you get it.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re just so compatible,” he says with a suggestive, pointed grin, and you stop short, staring blankly at him. “Okay, sorry.”

“Yeah… anyway, how was your day after you left? Was everything alright at work?” you ask, and annoyance flashes across his face as he seems to recall his day.

“Some bigwig food critic came to the restaurant earlier than he was supposed to, and we had to have all hands on deck to make sure everything went smoothly.” he groans as he thinks back, and you rub his back comfortingly, the male leaning into your touch. “It ended well, thankfully, but they were all freaking out when he started asking about wines to pair with his dish and I was nowhere to be found.”

The man preparing the food calls out to Haechan, holding out his order, and Haechan excuses himself briefly, heading over to pay for his meal.

“Well, that’s not your fault!” you say as he returns to your small table. When he sits down again, your knees knock into the other’s awkwardly, but neither of you move away to prevent it, finding the touch a bit comforting. “So you had to start work early?”

“Well, yeah, I had to hurry over to the restaurant so we didn’t get a critique saying we don’t know a merlot from a riesling.” he explains, and you’re silent for a moment, thinking.

“I don’t know a merlot from a riesling,” you confess in a conspiratorial whisper. “I actually don’t know anything about wine.”

“I’ll teach you,” he offers, nudging you with his shoulder. “We can go on a wine tasting date.”

“A what?”

“Did I say ‘date?’ I meant ‘friendly platonic outing that I will definitely not use as an opportunity to hit on you.’” he corrects himself, lips quirking up into a shameless grin, and you roll your eyes.

“I gotta hand it to you, you’re really determined.” you chuckle, shaking your head as you remember this isn’t even the first time he’s suggested a wine tasting date. “But on another note entirely, can we eat now? I’ve been waiting this whole time until your food was ready, but I’m at the point where my stomach is starting to chime in.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” he agrees, opening his bag and fishing out the container of food as you do the same.

“God, it smells so good,” you moan as you bring a slice of your quesadilla to your lips for a bite. It’s nothing short of delicious, the meat and cheese bursting with flavor and warmth, and you have to refrain from making another noise of satisfaction in order not to embarrass yourself.

You’re so engrossed in eating for a couple of minutes that you realize that Haechan hasn’t said anything since taking his first bite, and you look over, concerned, to see that his eyes are shut and a blissful smile is on his lips as he chews his food.

“I take it you like the burrito?” you ask, and he nods eagerly, sitting up slightly and picking up his burrito, bringing it to your lips with a hand cupped under to catch anything that falls. “Oh, I’m okay,” you start to decline, but he shakes his head and wiggles the foil-wrapped food insistently, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Try some,” he presses. “Open up,” he sing-songs, and you sigh deeply before obliging and biting into the burrito, making the mistake of looking into Haechan’s eyes as you do. “Good girl,” he breathes distractedly, and you inhale sharply, pulling back from the burrito immediately and starting to cough from the large chunk of food you mistakenly inhaled. “You good?” he asks, alarmed, as he claps you on the back in an attempt to help.

Finally, after what feels like an agonizingly long amount of time, you manage to swallow the obstruction and take your time desperately catching your breath before you glower up at a wary Haechan with a sore throat and watery eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, confused.

“You almost killed me!” you exclaim, and he splutters in protest.

“Me?! How?!”

“‘Good girl?’ Are you serious?” you huff, realizing your mistake a moment too late as Haechan’s eyes widen in understanding and a devious grin overtakes his features.

“Am I hearing that you liked that?” he teases, and you growl under your breath.

“No,” you say, averting your gaze. “It was just unexpected, that’s all. It caught me off-guard.”

“I think you liked it,” Haechan decides proudly. “And, I think I should say that more often.”

“You’d better not.” you warn him.

He meets your gaze with a mischievous smile and opens his mouth to speak and undoubtedly mess with you once more, only for you to lean forward and stuff one of his flautas in his mouth.

“Chew.” you order, shushing him when he tries again to speak. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” you scold, and he narrows his eyes at you but dutifully chews his mouthful of food. “Good boy,” you coo mockingly, and he stiffens immediately, eyes zeroing in on you.

“The difference between you and me,” he says slowly as he leans closer and closer, “is that I’m not gonna pretend that didn’t turn me on.”

“...You’re kinda sick, you know.” you announce, watching him in awe. “Not to mention shameless! Just sick and shameless.”

“And you like it,” Haechan marvels, feigning shock and wonder for a moment before dropping the act and wiggling his brows at you. “So what does that make you?”

“I don’t know where you heard that I like it,” you counter, fixing him in place with a confused look, “but you should get more reliable sources of information.”

“I’ve got a pretty good one right now.” he says, smugness creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but snort derisively.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, a Magic 8 ball?”

He doesn’t say anything until you look over at him again and momentarily stun yourself into silence from the intense gaze he’s directing towards you.

“Your eyes don’t lie,” Haechan half-murmurs, half-whispers. “You know that, right?”

And now you’re in quite the unique dilemma where you can’t look away because that would prove him right and you can’t look at him because, well, that… would also prove him right.

“Y’know, on that note, I am so hungry,” you stammer, haphazardly stuffing your face with food in an attempt to save yourself from the discussion at hand.

Haechan chuckles quietly but obliges your silent request for mercy, resuming his eating.

The food is delicious, and you end up offering Haechan a bite of one of your birria tacos as a thank you for letting you try some of his food.

The meal together is pleasant, admittedly, but dangerously intimate overall, and you don’t know how to make peace with the fact that you’re really starting to enjoy having Haechan around. When you’ve both finished your food, Haechan calls your name gently, waiting until you turn to face him to swipe some birria sauce off of your chin with his thumb.

“Oh, thanks,” you start to say, but it cuts off into an alarmed squeak when he licks the very same thumb clean, Haechan grinning triumphantly at you as you gape and splutter. “You really are sick and shameless—I was right.”

“Using a napkin would have been wasteful,” he defends himself, but he’s not even trying to sound convincing. “I’m being sustainable.”

“Wonder how Winter would feel about the way you, uh, saved the planet just now.” you snicker, and he glowers at you.

“It doesn’t matter how she would feel,” Haechan begins, standing up and offering a hand to you to help you to your feet. You take it politely, but he pulls you closer by the very same hand and whispers loudly, “because she’s not here, and she’s not going to find out.”

“What a good, considerate boyfriend,” you drawl in a bored tone. “And on that note, I’m going home.” You turn around to leave but stop when Haechan mirrors your actions, following after you. “And where exactly are you going?”

“At least let me make sure you get home safe.” Haechan insists, and you assess him for a moment, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I’ll behave, I promise!”

“...Okay, I guess.” you finally agree, and he beams, falling in step alongside you as you two head to your apartment complex. True to his word, he remains perfectly well-mannered for the entirety of the roughly eight-minute walk to your apartment.

As the elevator opens on your floor and your apartment door comes into sight, you start to come to terms with the fact that Haechan really is pleasant company to keep when he’s not blatantly hitting on you.

(If you were being fully honest with yourself, you would add that he’s actually still pleasant company—entertaining company, even—when he’s flirting shamelessly.)

Before you know it, you two have reached your front door and you have an idea brewing in your mind and, as you look over at Haechan who smiles sweetly at you, you hope silently that what you’re about to do doesn’t backfire horribly.

“Thanks for walking me home,” you say sincerely. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Haechan makes a face, waving you off dismissively before saying, “I did, actually. I’ve got to make sure you get home okay.”

“Right,” you say slowly, trailing off as you search for the right words for what you want to say next. “Hey, Haechan?”

“Hm?” He tilts his head to the side curiously as he waits for you to speak, and you avert your gaze, looking instead at your phone screen.

“If, um, you want to…” you start off, surprised by just how nervous you’ve become, “I would like for you to come to my Halloween party.”

Haechan goes still in your peripheral vision and you don’t look up for what feels like ages. Unable to bear not seeing his reaction for any longer, you look up to see a shy smile slowly growing on his face.

“I would love to come.” Haechan accepts the invitation with a small nod, and you beam at him, nodding as well before looking around awkwardly and clearing your throat.

“Well, great! You know when it is, and you know where I live.” You gesture at your front door, and he snickers before nodding in confirmation.

“What time should I come? Should I bring anything?” he asks curiously.

“Party starts officially at 10:30pm, but you can come as early as 9:30pm. And,” you say, pausing to think for a moment, “I don’t think you need to bring anything but a costume.“

“You got it.” he agrees, eagerness creeping into his tone, and his excitement seems to be contagious as your own lips start to curl upwards into a smile.

“Okay, great! Well, on that note, um… good night.” you bid him farewell, and he smiles fondly.

“Good night.” He heads down the hall to the elevator and you wait to enter your apartment until after he enters the elevator and the door shuts behind him.

You’re about to unlock your door to let yourself in when you hear a loud celebratory whooping noise from the elevator shaft, making you burst into giggles before you enter your apartment and lock the door behind you, leaning your back against the door and sighing loudly.

“I really hope I don’t regret this.” you whisper to yourself before pushing off of the door and heading to your room to get ready for bed.

You’re sitting comfortably on your couch between Yunjin and Seulgi as you discuss what movie to watch when your phone buzzes.

You peek at your phone to check the notification and roll your eyes to yourself, a small smile curling your lips.

haechan [22:37] hi :)

you [22:38] hi?

haechan [22:38] wyd

“I vote for The Incredible Hulk!” you suggest, and Yunjin clutches your arm excitedly, her grip slowly tightening. “Ow.”

“We should definitely watch The Incredible Hulk!”

“Owie—”

“Or Venom…” she gasps eagerly.

“Yeowch—”

“Oh, sorry,” she mumbles, releasing you. You rub your sore arm and glower at her, and she smiles sheepishly. “You know I love Venom.”

“He’s so… strong.” you mutter dreamily. “I change my vote to Venom.”

“Come on, you see a long tongue and stop thinking entirely.” Chaewon protests, and you frown.

“I do not! He’s more than his… incredibly long… thick… tongue.” you mumble, subtly fanning yourself to do away with the heat in your cheeks.

“You should get a room. Not even with Venom, just go in the kitchen and sort yourself out.” Seulgi snorts, and you let out a small hmph, curling up on the couch and returning your attention to your phone.

you [22:41] watching a movie with the girls

haechan [22:41] oh fun

haechan [22:41] where’s my invite :/

you [22:42] must have gotten lost in the mail

haechan [22:42] no worries i’m on my way

“Can we not watch Venom? He’s kind of scary.” Winter asks nervously, and you groan.

“Why are you standing between me and true lust?” you complain, and she giggles.

“Winter, I’ll hold you if he scares you.” Chaewon offers, and you roll your eyes in mild amusement.

“Not Chaewon putting the moves on Winter,” Seulgi remarks in surprise, and Chaewon splutters.

“I am not ‘putting the moves on Winter!’ I’m being a good friend!” she counters defensively.

you [22:45] winter is here

haechan [22:45] on second thought my bed is sooooo cozy

you [22:46] WOW.

you [22:46] that’s sick actually

You snort in amusement, and Yunjin turns to look at you.

“Something to say?”

You blanch. “No, ma’am.”

She narrows her eyes, regarding you suspiciously. “You seem awfully entertained.”

You gesture at your now bickering friends with an amused grin. “Are you not?”

“Hm… fair.” she agrees, and you smile, looking back at your phone.

haechan [22:50] in my defense you’ve never felt my bed

you [22:51] and i never will. god bless 🙏

haechan [22:51] never say never baby

you disliked “never say never baby”

you [22:52] okay justin bieber

haechan [22:52] king

you [22:53] um. sure

you [22:53] :/

“Can we pick already?” you stress, and Winter sighs deeply.

“We can watch Venom, I guess. Chaewon’s holding me.” she relents, and you all cheer as Yunjin selects it to play.

haechan [22:55] not you having beef with the biebs

you [22:55] not you unironically saying “the biebs”

haechan [22:55] you don’t understand his genius

you [22:56] and which part of his genius made him piss in a mop bucket that one time?

haechan [22:58] HE WAS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING

you [22:59] okay now hush boy the movie’s about to start

haechan [22:59] what are you watching?

you [23:00] venom :3

haechan [23:00] no way you got winter to agree to watching it

haechan [23:01] he scares her!

you [23:02] sure did. and he sure does

you [23:04] chaewon’s gonna hold her

haechan [23:04] and who’s gonna hold you?

haechan [23:04] me right

haechan [23:04] great im omw

“You’re not even paying attention!” Seulgi complains at you, and you sit up in your seat, placing your phone more surreptitiously in your lap.

“I am!” you counter, and she narrows her eyes at you before returning her attention to the screen.

you [23:06] firstly you’re sick. you’re supposed to hold your girlfriend not me

haechan [23:06] you just said someone’s already holding her 🙄

you [23:07] secondly i dont need to be held. me personally i want venom carnally

haechan [23:07] good god woman way to make a man insecure

you [23:08] LMAO? you upset you can’t measure up to the super parasitic entity that is venom?

haechan [23:08] he’s more of a man than i’ll ever be 😞

you [23:09] HE’S NOT EVEN HUMAN?

haechan [23:11] so i shouldn’t be worried about him? �� because you already like me? 😏

you [23:12] you shouldnt be worried about him because he is, first and foremost, not real

you [23:12] no one said anything about liking you 😒

haechan [23:14] maybe you should

you [23:17] say something? or like you?

haechan [23:17] both 😁

you [23:19] change the topic before i block you

haechan [23:20] fiiiiine

haechan [23:24] what are you wearing?

you disliked “what are you wearing?”

you [23:26] HAECHAN.

haechan [23:26] TO THE HALLOWEEN PARTY??????

you [23:28] 😒 not cute or funny

haechan [23:30] jeeeeez a guy can’t ask a question?

you [23:30] not like that you can’t!!

you [23:32] also you’ll see at the party. it’s a surprise

haechan [23:33] ugh fine 🙁 i’ll behave

you [23:33] i don’t believe you for a minute but fine

you [23:37] also i’m gonna stop texting soon the movie’s about to get good

haechan [23:38] can’t believe you're in love with venom

you [23:39] in lust**

You lock your phone and stuff it under your thigh, watching with rapt attention as Venom fights off several henchmen, and you’re made distantly aware of your phone buzzing under your leg. With an amused sigh and a roll of your eyes, you pull your phone out from under your leg.

haechan [23:42] get a room 🤮

you [23:43] happily. and i’ll daydream about venom all night long 🥰

haechan [23:44] venom is one lucky bastard

you [23:44] mmm why? you wish i was fantasizing about you instead?

haechan [23:45] YES.

you [23:46] awwww

you [23:49] too bad. gtg my man’s on the screen

You lock your phone for good and scan the living room, your gaze settling on Winter wrapped up in Chaewon’s arms, focused intently on the movie, and you relax slightly.

Haechan is really a piece of work, and if the Halloween party goes anything like your text conversation just did, you might be in a bit of trouble.

The day of your party finally comes around, and when people start filtering in and the music starts playing, the vibe starts to feel just like you planned. All of your friends have made an appearance except for Haechan, who’s apparently in the apartment but nowhere near you.

Not that you care at all. Because you definitely don’t. But you just think it’s kind of funny how he practically begged for an invite to your party and cheered when he got one, only to come to said party and not show his face to the hostess? Rude! Disrespectful, really.

But it doesn’t bother you at all, so you push the thoughts from your mind and focus on having a good time at your party.

“Wow,” you remark as some guy you only vaguely recognize walks by you. “That is one impressive Groot costume.”

“It’s so realistic,” Seulgi says, awestruck. You reach over and fix her crooked bunny ears headband, and she smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Lola.”

“You’re welcome, Bugs,” you reply with a smile.

“Do you think he’d let me touch his wood if I asked nicely?” Chaewon wonders aloud, and you and Seulgi exchange a glance.

“I think if you ask to ‘touch his wood,’ he’s not gonna think you’re talking about the costume.” you explain slowly, and Chaewon balks.

“Oh, ew. No, ew. It was just to find out what material he used!” she gags, and you and Seulgi start to laugh. “Laugh it up! Laugh it up at the clueless lesbian who doesn’t understand double entendres!”

“We are,” Seulgi giggles. “We literally are right now.”

“You two are horrid. No wonder you teamed up for Halloween.” Chaewon mutters bitterly.

You and Seulgi smile, bumping hips. “Sorry we didn’t join in on the Powerpuff Girls costume idea,” you huff, and Chaewon frowns deeply.

“Don’t remind me,” she grouches.

“What I want to know,” Seulgi chimes in, “is how you got Chenle to be Professor Utonium.”

“Well, we asked Mark first because, you know, he’s more agreeable.” Chaewon sighs. “But he was dead set on being Spider-Man, so Chenle got tired of hearing us whine, so he just agreed to shut us up.”

“Well… congratulations. It’s not like your costumes are incomplete, so I don’t know why you were so upset we didn’t join!” you defend yourself and Seulgi.

Chaewon grimaces. “You could have been Mojo Jojo—or the Mayor!” she says with a jabbing point in Seulgi’s direction. “And you! You could have been Ms. Bellum!” she wails at you, putting her face in her hands.

You rub her back comfortingly and hand her a gummy worm from your cup of snacks. She lets out a soft hmph but takes it, chewing it until her expression softens into a small smile.

“Speaking of the Powerpuff Girls, where is Miss Buttercup?” you ask, looking around for Yunjin.

“I think she said something about the bathroom.” Seulgi answers, and you nod in acknowledgement.

“I’d ask where Winter went, but she’s over there talking to Jeno.” you say, pointing at the two of them on the other side of the room.

Chaewon squints into the distance and frowns. “What is Jeno supposed to be?”

“Hmm,” you hum thoughtfully, taking in the elements of his costume. “I think he’s that guy from Popeye? Like, the really buff guy? What’s his name, though?”

“Oh, Bluto?” Seulgi rejoins the conversation, and you nod excitedly.

“That’s him! Also, welcome back, girl,” you snort in amusement.

“Sorry,” she replies sheepishly. “Some girl is here as a fairy and her wings are glittery, and I couldn’t look away. I blame this new strain I tried before I came here; it makes me space out like crazy.”

“Poor thing,” you hum sympathetically. “You’re just a girl.”

“I’m literally just a girl!” she exclaims in agreement.

“You know what I think is odd?” you say curiously. “You can almost never find Winter and Haechan in the same spot unless we’re all hanging out together.”

“Yeah, because Haechan’s always where you are,” Seulgi mutters, and you shoot her a dirty look. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes, actually. He’s nowhere to be found right now, so you’re wrong.”

“Probably looking for you,” Seulgi sing-songs, and you roll your eyes.

“Is not!” you huff.

“He probably is, girl,” Chaewon says with a sympathetic smile and a pat to your shoulder. You shrug her off with a hmph and stick a peach ring in your mouth.

“Can we change the topic?” you plead. “Let’s talk about… how buff Jeno looks in his costume.” you suggest with a smile, and Seulgi and Chaewon stare at you expressionlessly. “What?”

“I’m a lesbian,” Chaewon says carefully, like you’ve forgotten. “I literally do not care.”

“I’m into guys on rare occasions, but I’m not into Jeno,” Seulgi replies. “So I also do not care.”

“Jeez, tough crowd,” you grouch, snatching your drink off of the table behind you. “I think you both could use a hit.”

“I just hit my pen like twenty minutes ago,” Seulgi says, confused, and you blink at her.

“No, I meant… you deserve a whack. Like, I should get to hit you.” you say slowly, and she sucks her teeth before throwing a piece of popcorn from her cup at you as you giggle mischievously.

“On that note, I’m leaving!” Chaewon gripes. “I’m gonna talk to the glittery fairy wings girl Seulgi was staring at.”

“Wh—was my staring not a sufficient claim of dibs?” she splutters, and you and Chaewon look at each other.

“No?” you say in unison.

“How about you both hit on her? Either she picks one of you or she could pick both and y’all can have a threesome or something.” you suggest, and they both pause to consider it.

“Sounds like a plan,” Chaewon agrees, and Seulgi nods in agreement with a smile.

As they head off in the direction of the pretty glittery fairy girl, you smile to yourself. “Good luck!” you call after them. Seulgi shoots you a thumbs up and your smile widens before you decide to hunt down Yunjin.

It doesn’t take you long to locate her, her green Buttercup costume standing out in the throng of people. Unfortunately, when you find her, you still have one main thing on your mind.

“Hey!” she greets you brightly, and you offer a smile that, based on the narrowing of her eyes, must not be very convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, really, just stressed about the party.” you fib, and she frowns sympathetically.

“Look around! People are having a great time.” she assures you, and a cursory glance reveals that virtually everyone is all smiles and laughter.

Given that you weren’t even remotely concerned about the state of your party, you feign immense relief, making Yunjin smile.

“You’re right,” you say with a content smile, and she beams wider, wrapping you in a hug. As she releases you, you hope and pray to make the delivery of your next line as convincingly casual as possible. “By the way—have you seen Haechan anywhere?”

She screws her face up thoughtfully. “I did! I let him in the apartment,” she recalls proudly, and you smile encouragingly.

“That’s great—do you happen to know where he might be?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can, and Yunjin shakes her head.

“No, I don’t. That was, like, an hour ago? An hour and a half?” she wonders aloud, and you nod, patting her hand gently.

“Thanks, girl.”

“Why? You looking for him?” she asks curiously, and you hope she misses the way you hesitate.

“Not really,” you lie. “I just figured since I finally invited him, he’d… y’know… find me to thank me.”

“Oh, true.” she agrees. “Well, he’s definitely around. You can’t really miss him.”

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“He’s dressed like… I don’t know… Godzilla?” Yunjin wonders, and you snicker.

“Copy Godzilla.” you laugh, squeezing her hand gently. “He’s so weird—”

“Hey!” Mark joins your conversation with a bright smile.

“Hey, Spider-Man.” you greet. “Nice costume!”

“Thanks, dude.” he says with a bashful smile. “I fucked up the mask though; that’s why I’m not wearing it.”

“What do you mean?” you ask in confusion, and Mark shamefully pulls out his mask and puts it on to reveal— “Oh—”

“Why are the holes like that?” Yunjin giggles, and Mark’s frown is visible even through the misplaced mouth hole.

“Well, for starters, I don’t think Spider-Man has a mouth hole, Mark. Want me to fix it?” you offer, and he yanks the mask off his head with an eager nod.

“Would you?” he pleads, and you nod with your hand out to take the mask.

“I’ll sew the mouth hole closed and… try to fix the eye holes.” you explain.

Mark beams at you. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t worry about it.” you wave him off, and Yunjin squeezes your hand to get your attention.

“I’m gonna go on the balcony and take a hit,” she murmurs. “You wanna come?”

“You know I don’t,” you laugh, and she shrugs.

“I always invite you so you don’t think you’re not welcome,” she explains, and you smile fondly. “I’ll be back soon. Mark, you want some?”

“Hell, yeah, dude.” Mark agrees excitedly, following after Yunjin before stopping in his tracks and doubling back to say one final thing to you. “Hey, have you seen Haechan yet?”

“No,” you reply a bit more bitterly than you intended. “Why?”

“He’s been looking for you since you got here.” Mark explains, confused, and, to your embarrassment, you feel your heart speed up ever so slightly.

“Really?” you hum nonchalantly. “Well, I’ll probably run into him sooner or later.”

“True, true. Okay, let me go catch Yunjin. Thanks again for fixing my mask!” he says in a rush, and you laugh, waving him off.

“Just go, Mark, it’s okay.” you laugh, and he turns on his heel before nimbly navigating through the crowd of people to get to Yunjin’s retreating figure.

You head to your room to fix Mark’s mask with your sewing kit and try your best to push all thoughts of Haechan from your mind.

“I mean, it’s just weird that he wanted to come to this party so bad, but can't even thank the hostess for the invite?” you huff to a sympathetic Chaewon and Seulgi. They share a look and you falter, looking between the two of them with growing concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Seulgi lies, and your concern morphs to panic.

“What? Tell me!”

“It’s not important, actually. It was a… sapphic moment.” Chaewon chimes in, and you narrow your eyes skeptically.

“Sure, it was.” you huff, leaning back against the wall. “Speaking of sapphic—”

“I’m scared.” Seulgi says immediately, already looking suspicious.

“Did you guys ever get to talk to the pretty fairy girl?” you ask, and they share another look. “That was a sapphic moment. That first look was a ‘we’re keeping secrets from you’ moment.”

“She’s super sweet,” Chaewon answers, completely and conveniently ignoring the latter half of your sentence. “She’s got really nice boobs, too.” she sighs dreamily.

“You’re no better than a man,” you sigh in disappointment, and she gasps.

“I have an appreciation for nice breasts that a man would never be able to fully understand.” she defends herself, and you raise your hands in surrender.

“Sure, Chae.”

“Listen, about Haechan—why do you care so much?” Seulgi asks curiously, and you splutter indignantly.

“I don’t care, it’s just—it’s just rude!” you huff.

“Would it be less rude if we told you Haechan was just over here before you came and he was very much looking for you?” Seulgi answers, and you freeze.

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Which way did he go?” you ask, turning to look. When you look back at your friends, you catch the tail end of yet another look shared between the two of them before they look at you with a knowing expression. “First of all, mind your business.”

“Your complaining about it to us made it our business.” Chaewon points out. “Now go find that weird little alligator-crocodile man while we continue attempting to romance the pretty fairy girl with a heavenly rack.”

“I’m sorry… what?” you ask slowly.

Chaewon blinks at you. “We’re trying to romance the pretty fairy girl with massive mommy milkers?”

“Okay, well, that’s not what I was asking about. And it got worse somehow. Did you just refer to Godzilla a ‘weird little alligator-crocodile?’” you ask, baffled, and Chaewon has the nerve to look at you like you’re stupid.

“He came as that alligator or crocodile from Princess and the Frog,” Chaewon explains slowly. “The one that plays the trumpet? Louis?”

“You’re kidding. Yunjin said he was Godzilla.” you snort, and can’t help but notice that Seulgi has gone awfully quiet. “You good, Seulgi?”

“I thought he was a Komodo dragon,” she mutters shamefully, and you and Chaewon share a look.

“Now why would he—?”

“I didn’t think to question it.” she complains. “It’s not like I can tell all reptiles apart, you know.”

“I would think the main ones could be stored away for future reference, though.” you supply helpfully, and Seulgi glowers at you. “Listen—if you guys do end up romancing that girl, you can hook up in my room, just please stay on top of the covers so I have less to wash.”

“You got it, boss.” Chaewon agrees eagerly, taking Seulgi’s hand and pulling her away without another word.

As you turn to continue your party rounds, you bump directly into Jeno’s solid chest, his hands immediately steadying you as you practically bounce off of him.

“Shit, sorry!” you gasp, starting to fuss over him slightly. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Jeno assures you with a warm smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, too,” you assure him back, and he relaxes slightly. “I like your costume,” you say, sounding surprisingly shy.

“I like yours, too,” Jeno replies with a lingering glance at your body that has your insides tingling with excitement. “You look stunning,” he adds with an appreciative grin.

“I like your muscles,” you admit plainly, reaching out to touch before pulling back and looking for confirmation. “Sorry, can I—?”

“Please—” he blurts out, offering you his arm eagerly. You take it with a giggle and let out a low whistle as you feel the firm muscles moving under his skin. “I spent every day this week in the gym for this.”

“It paid off,” you confirm, nodding with an impressed grin. “That’s actually amazing, Jeno. I hope you were taking care of yourself and not just working out like a madman.”

He grins sheepishly. “I ate lots of meat? And carbs? I was trying to bulk up and define, not lose weight.”

“Oh. Good.” you remark, pleasantly surprised. “Well, add vegetables and fruits in there, too… or I’ll get you.”

Jeno snorts loudly before bursting into laughter. “You’ll get me?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why you’re laughing, actually.” you sniffle, turning your nose up. “I can be a formidable opponent.”

“I bet.” Jeno agrees with a nod, and your lips quirk up into a teasing smile.

“You know, we should fight.” you muse, and his eyes bulge. “Like a sparring match!”

Jeno’s face passes through several emotions rapidly—shock, understanding, confusion, understanding (again), excitement, realization, then finally a tampered down excitement. “You want to wrestle me?”

“Yeah,” you hum with a little smile. “Why, you don’t wanna?”

“Oh, I wanna,” Jeno confirms immediately. “I really, really… really wanna.” he mutters as his gaze drops to your outfit again.

“You wanna pin me down, Jeno?” you gasp, surprised, and he looks scandalized for a moment before you finish, “I’m kidding, Jeno, relax!”

“God, you scared me.” he exhales loudly, and you laugh, pulling him in for an apologetic hug. “I mean, like, I would love to pin you down.” he confesses, and you freeze, staring at him in pleasant surprise.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He nods, not releasing you when you pull back from the hug. At this angle, your lower halves are pressed together and you’re trying your best not to be intimately aware of the way you can feel heat radiating off of him everywhere you two are touching.

“What if I don’t give up easily?”

“I don’t have a problem with a little struggling.”

“Who says it’d be little? I’m stronger than I look, you know,” you say with a small hmph.

Jeno shamelessly flexes one bicep. “So am I.”

You’re not gonna lie… that did a little something to you just now. “Well, let’s figure something out so we can see once and for all.” you suggest with a coy bat of your lashes, and he grins wolfishly.

“You’re on.”

“Sorry!” Winter chirps, appearing out of literally nowhere with two drinks in her hands. “Sorry, I can tell I’m interrupting, but—have either of you seen Haechan?”

You and Jeno look at each other in confusion before slowly detangling yourselves. “I haven’t seen him literally all night.” you remark, trying to hide the residual bitterness from your voice.

“I saw him, like, twenty minutes ago, but he was with you.” Jeno answers, and Winter frowns before perking up hopefully.

“Can you guys text him? My phone is in my back pocket, and I don’t have any free hands.” she pouts slightly, and you nod, pulling your phone from your pocket to help without thinking.

you [23:17] wya

To your surprise, his response is instant and it takes everything in you not to visibly react to the appearance of the new message bubbles, leaving you to subtly angle your phone towards yourself.

haechan [23:17] by the bathroom

haechan [23:19] where are YOU? i’ve been looking for you all night

“Nothing yet,” you lie. “I’ll bring him to you if I find him, okay?”

“Okay,” Winter sighs before leaning against the wall in defeat.

As subtly as possible, you text him back.

you [23:22] heading to kitchen

haechan [23:23] wait for me there

“I hope you find him! I’m gonna check on Yunjin and Mark; they haven’t gotten off of the balcony in a while.” you lie, and they nod, bidding you goodbye.

When you’re sure you’re out of sight, you make a beeline for the kitchen, trying your best to ignore the building feeling of anticipation the closer you get.

You’ve finally managed to escape to the kitchen to meet Haechan (or for some snacks, depending on who’s asking) and you’re admittedly eager to get away from the party going on in the rest of your apartment for a moment of peace and quiet. You’re fixing yourself a small plate of snacks complete with Cheetos puffs and Lays chips when you’re subconsciously made aware of a new presence behind you.

“Hi, Miss Lola Bunny.” A familiar voice sounds out from behind you, and you freeze in place before slowly turning to face a grinning Haechan as he scans your (admittedly scantily clad) frame with eyes that linger longingly on your every dip and curve.

“Hi, Mister Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.” you reply casually, popping a Cheetos puff into your mouth and chewing. “You know, the girls thought you were Godzilla, Louis—the alligator from Princess and the Frog—and a Komodo dragon, respectively.”

“That’s kind of sad,” he remarks with a chuckle. “They should reopen the schools.”

“It’s too late for them, I fear,” you reply solemnly, and Haechan snorts loudly in amusement.

“I’ll pray for them.” he says just as solemnly, and you can’t help but giggle. At the sound, Haechan draws closer to you with his eyes low. “You look good as hell,” he remarks casually, and you roll your eyes before appraising him carefully.

“You look… green.” you decide on saying, and he narrows his eyes.

“That’s all you’re gonna give me?” he says with a pout, and you shrug nonchalantly.

“You’re wearing a turtle costume… with artificial padding… be lucky that’s all I said.”

“Well, guess what, sunshine?” he asks. “I bet you’d like what’s underneath this costume much better.”

“You’re talking like a crazy person.” you dismiss him. “Maybe you’re developing heat stroke or something; aren’t you hot in all that?”

“Why? Want me to take it off?” he teases, and you groan in frustration as he laughs. “I’m kidding. Kinda.”

“Whatever,” you sigh. “Which one are you, anyway?” you ask, desperate to change the subject, and he grins widely, wiggling his eyebrows and gesturing to his costume.

“Guess.”

“Hm… Michelangelo?” you try, and his eyes widen in shock before he nods excitedly. “Hm. Fitting. Funny guy, never really takes anything seriously.”

“You know, you’re the first person to guess correctly.” he tells you, smoothly ignoring the small jab you sent his way, and you make a small noise of surprise and confusion.

“Aren’t the eye masks color coded?” you point out, gesturing to his orange eye mask, and he nods even more eagerly than before.

“Yes, they are!” he exclaims before sighing and regarding you with a dreamy look in his eyes. “God, where have you been all my life?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” you remark sarcastically. “Recently I’ve been hanging out with your girlfriend,” you say slowly, stressing the syllables of the last word. “Remember her? In the next room, all dolled up in her cute little Bubbles costume? Looking for you, as a matter of fact.”

“Yes, I recall.” he replies simply, and you scoff, shaking your head in disapproval.

“I told her I’d bring you to her if I found you, you know,” you sigh, and he shakes his head vehemently.

“Don’t do that.” he half-pleads, half-huffs. “Stay here with me for a bit.”

“Give me one good reason not to.”

“I’ve been looking for you literally all night,” he says, slightly exasperated, “and I finally find you, and you don’t even want to talk to me?”

You shift your weight to your other foot. “For starters, it’s not like you found me. I texted you, which you could have done if you were looking for me that hard.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” he says with a frown that actually kind of hurts your heart a little. It’s sincere, and earnest, and it’s hurt all at once.

You soften slightly. “I thought you weren’t gonna say anything to me tonight, actually.” you admit softly.

“I was dead set on finding you as soon as I got up to come here,” he promises, and you’re surprised to find that you believe him. “I had to reasonably find a way to ditch Winter so I could see you.” he says gently, his hands moving to rest on your hips.

You feel beyond conflicted right now; there’s victory and triumph and a sick satisfaction that you found him and gained the knowledge that he was looking for you, then there’s guilt and shame about the fact that not only is his girlfriend looking for him, but also the fact that you’re supposed to be helping.

Haechan must sense the happier end of your conflict, because his eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Did you want to see me, too?” At your following hesitation, his eyes brighten and he smiles at you. “You did, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” you huff, looking away, but he continues, moving his body so he’s back in your line of sight.

“You missed me, huh? Were you walking around, hoping you’d spot me somewhere? Were you asking about me?” he teases lightly, his lips quirked into a fond but playful smile.

“Oh, my God, can we stay on topic?” you complain, and he shrugs before gesturing for you to speak. “Why are you hiding from Winter?”

“I don’t particularly want or need to see her right now.” he huffs, crossing his arms, and you want to laugh at the way his costume looks all petulant and huffy, but you refrain.

“You’re a bad boyfriend, Haechan.” you scold, and he shrugs dismissively before jerking his chin in your direction.

“Well, you’re a bad friend!” he counters. “Seducing me with those eyes of yours.”

You snort derisively and place your hand on your hip, eying him disapprovingly. “And what exactly am I doing with my eyes, Haechan? Quickly.”

“You’re giving me bedroom eyes!”

“That’s literally just my natural expression!”

“Fine,” he says, standing up straighter. “What would Winter think about your natural expression, hm?” At your stubborn silence, he nods resolutely and continues, “I think we should go ask her.”

“No!” you stop him before he can walk off, grabbing his arm and tugging him back to you. “Let’s not.”

“See?” he answers smugly, making you roll your eyes and avert your gaze with a faint air of shame. He steps closer, his hands slowly moving to rest on the counter on either side of you, and lowers his voice to murmur, “You don’t want her to know because you have just as much skin in the game as I do.” When you continue to avoid eye contact, he sucks his teeth under his breath and takes your chin in his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up to face him. He clears his throat expectantly when you keep your eyes stubbornly fixed on a spot behind him, and you find yourself giving in, reluctantly looking up to meet his unwavering gaze. “You want this just as bad as I do.”

You don’t even have a solid rebuttal, your brows furrowing as you think of something to say that can clear your name. “Do not,” you mutter bitterly, and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“Fine,” he agrees, “I’ll give you the fact that maybe I want it more. But you?” he tugs your chin closer to him with a sudden movement that brings your lips about an inch from his, continuing over your soft gasp of surprise with, “You definitely want it, too.”

Your features contort into a conflicted expression, eyes turning shifty as they look past him and over his shoulder to assess the risk of someone coming in and catching you two in your incredibly compromising position.

“Can you move before someone sees us?” you mumble, slightly embarrassed, and he chuckles, making you frown. “I’m serious!”

“I know somewhere quiet we can go where we probably won’t get interrupted.” he proposes in a sing-song voice.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes for several moments before reopening them and meeting his gaze once more. “Not that I’m interested… but where exactly did you have in mind?”

The smile that takes over his face is more than a little worrisome; he’s smiling like he’s caught you and, more importantly, like he doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon.

“Come,” he urges you quietly, lacing his fingers with yours and starting to lead you out of the kitchen.

“My snacks!” you complain as he pulls you away, and he pauses with a small sigh of disbelief and amusement to let you reach back and grab your plate before continuing to guide you to wherever he has in mind.

Haechan peeks into the hallway, looking both ways twice before pulling you after him quickly, rushing up the stairs, and finally pulling you into the bathroom on your top floor and locking the door behind you.

When you’ve finally got your wits about you and caught your breath from the sudden run upstairs, you take in your surroundings; you know your bathroom, obviously, and Haechan’s right—given that it’s the second bathroom in your apartment and that it’s located on the second floor away from the action, your chances of being interrupted or found are significantly lower.

“Haechan, what exactly are we doing in here?” you ask slowly as the realization of your situation sets in, and he smiles deceptively innocently.

“Just… spending some time together,” he murmurs, reaching out for your hands. You place your plate of snacks on the shelving unit by the toilet and tentatively oblige, letting him link your hands and pull you in closer until you’re practically chest to chest.

You two linger in the shared space together, the music from downstairs filtering up through the walls and providing a faint soundtrack for the two of you.

Haechan moves before you do, placing his hands on your hips and urging you to sit up onto the sink counter.

“Isn’t that better?” he coos sweetly, hands sliding down from your hips to rest on your knees. Looking at you for a silent confirmation, he gingerly spreads your legs and moves closer to stand between them.

He is hot, you note, heat radiating off of him through his Halloween costume, and you find yourself moving without realizing, your hands rising to carefully untie the orange eye mask around his eyes. When you pull the garment away from his head and toss it on top of the toilet seat, he smiles at you, warmth and adoration reflected in his eyes.

“Hi there,” he greets softly, voice lilting playfully, and you can’t help but snicker quietly.

“Hi, Haechan.”

“You smell good,” he notes off-handedly.

“Thanks?” you chuckle, admittedly a bit caught off-guard. He leans in slowly, your body gradually starting to tense as you brace yourself for whatever it is he plans to do, and brings his nose to your neck, breathing in deeply before humming contently.

His breath fans over your skin, strands of his hair tickling your collarbone as he lowers his face until he’s level with your chest.

“Haechan,” you protest weakly, and he looks up at you, studying your expression before leaning forward and pressing one daring kiss to just above your cleavage. “You know we shouldn’t.”

“You know you want to,” is his only reply before he lifts his head so you’re face to face again. “Aren’t you just at least a little bit curious? Hm?”

After what feels like ages, your internal battle comes to an end and your head moves before you can stop it, offering only the smallest of nods.

The smile he gives you in response is nothing short of radiant and he slides his arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

“That’s it,” he encourages you in a soft whisper as you let him guide you further into his embrace.

“What do we say if they catch us?” you ask quietly, scared to break the intensity of the gaze Haechan has on you.

“They’re not gonna catch us,” Haechan breathes, inching closer to you. At your silence, he nudges his nose past your hair and presses his lips against the heated skin of your neck.

The silence hangs in the air between you two, a heavy emptiness as you think about what you’re about to do.

In the quiet, Haechan’s fingers trail along your hips, soothing circles massaged into your skin almost convincing you that what you’re contemplating is okay.

“Okay,” you say softly, finally, and you can feel a weight leave Haechan’s shoulders as you gently rest your hands on them. “Okay. But we can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“We already have our little secrets,” he reminds you with a small grin, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’s one more?” Haechan’s voice softens, almost indecipherable, before he gently presses his lips to yours.

You’re frozen at first, your mind still on the fence. It’s when he pulls you closer and a small, desperate grunt leaves his mouth, the tiniest “please,” that you crack, your lips slowly moving with his.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting for the opportunity his whole life. Practically yanking you off of the counter, he clutches you to his chest and squeezes you to him so tightly that you fall short of breath, your knees buckling as a plaintive whimper slips from you.

“Fuck, I need you—” He drops to his knees, eager fingers clumsily digging into your skin as he drags your shorts down your legs, eyes wide with an almost feral excitement and unbridled desire that leaves you floored. “Such a tease, showing off your body in this costume,” he grunts, and you can feel the air shifting—the closer he gets to having you, the more brazen he becomes; talking so smooth it’s damn near slippery, dangerously bold and cocky—

You suck in a loud breath as the cool air hits your newly exposed core, glistening folds catching the almost nonexistent breeze of Haechan’s ragged breathing. He stares at where your thighs meet with a slowly building hunger in his eyes before he’s pushing you back against the sink and urging your ass up onto the counter.

“Gonna let me eat your pretty pussy, right, baby?” he mutters urgently, spreading your legs as wide as they’ll go. He shifts his weight to his knees and moves between your thighs to block them from closing and when he looks up at you for a response to his question, the sheer desperation in his eyes and the greedy way his hands knead your inner thighs has you stunned into momentary silence, simply nodding in a daze. An almost crippling wave of relief visibly washes over him for a moment and he presses his face between your legs and groans in delight, slurring slightly when he mumbles, “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much.”

You don’t even get to unpack how stunned his words of reverence and gratitude leave you before his tongue drags up your folds, pink muscle fat and heavy and unceremoniously slurping at your arousal. You moan weakly, only to wince at the realization that people can probably hear you two from outside the bathroom between the wet noises and grunts of satisfaction Haechan is letting out as he sucks and licks at your core and your own poorly stifled moans as you grip at his hair.

“Taste so fucking good,” he moans, hiking your leg up to drape it over his shoulder. He brings himself closer and focuses his attention on your swollen clit, suckling on the sensitive bundle of nerves before flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “All for me, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, trying to compose yourself in spite of his almost ravenous devouring of your core. You can feel wetness accumulating between your thighs, some of it even slowly dripping down your legs, and when you look down at Haechan, he looks up at you with bright eyes, pupils wide with desire, and he lolls his tongue out in an almost teasing gesture, leaving you to marvel at the clear beads of saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue to the floor.

“Such a pretty girl,” he mumbles, lips glossy with spit before he surges forward again, burying his face in between your legs with such sudden force it has you stumbling backwards. “Pretty girl likes it when I drool all over her perfect fucking pussy, yeah?”

“Fuck—” you hiss in surprise. You knew Haechan could talk slick, but the way he’s egging you on, maintaining his smug demeanor as he skilfully brings you closer to the edge, has lust swimming in your mind.

“Could eat your pussy all night, baby,” he grunts in a throaty voice, pausing to let his tongue flick over your entrance tauntingly. When your breath catches, his eyes are quick to dart up to yours curiously before he shoots you a dazzling grin, understanding written all over his handsome features. “So damn good for me—I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“Haechan,” you whine plaintively, the tightening feeling in your abdomen growing as he presses the tip of his tongue into you slightly. “Don’t tease me—”

“You tease me all the time,” he counters, brows furrowed almost petulantly as he stares up at you. “Hell, you teased me tonight—walking around in this sexy little costume of yours,” he grunts, pushing your shirt up in jerky motions to reveal your bra and your cleavage, “like I wasn’t gonna spend all night thinking about you.”

You open your mouth to protest that you didn’t wear it for him, that he was really just collateral damage, but the rebuttal dies on your tongue as he pushes his tongue into you as far as it’ll go. You jolt in surprise, the sensation pleasurable but foreign, and let out a shuddered sigh of his name as he starts moving his tongue inside of you, swirling and flicking and pulling out to slurp greedily before starting all over again.

When he reaches up to massage circles around your clit and resumes teasing your entrance with his tongue, you promptly lose it, climaxing with a muffled cry bordering on a dry sob of his name and various curses as your legs shake around him.

To your surprise, he doesn’t let up, only intensifying the pressure he’s applying to your clit and dipping his tongue into your entrance repeatedly, the pleasure quickly becoming overwhelming.

“Haechan—” you hiss, your body starting to curl in on itself protectively. “Fuck—too much—”

“You can take it, baby,” he assures you sweetly. “You’re doing so well.” He slows down the circles around your clit and you think for a moment that he might let up, but he just brings his lips to the overstimulated bud and sucks on it hard, massaging it with his tongue as you clap a hand over your mouth to keep from crying out. “That’s my good girl,” he purrs with his mouth sloppily moving against your clit, and the vibrations as well as his messy, wet kisses send you tipping over the edge once more.

This climax is quieter than the rest, your eyes rolling back as your lids flutter shut and your mouth drops open to let out shaky gasps and exhales as ecstasy overtakes you.

Haechan watches you climax in awe, eyes laced with hunger and desire before he moves, unable to take it any longer.

“God, you’re so good,” Haechan mumbles in a daze, fingers digging into your thighs. “So fucking good—turn around—”

”Turn around?” you slur, lost in the aftermath of your climax, only to cry out in surprise and sudden realization when he flips you around so you’re facing the sink, bends you over and starts leaving wet kisses on your asscheeks that come dangerously closer and closer to where they meet. “Haechan—fuck, oh, my God—”

“Relax, baby,” he assures you, words dragging into the next, “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” True to his word, he parts your asscheeks and drags his tongue up from your entrance to your asshole before swirling his tongue around the rim slowly.

”Holy shit,” you exhale breathlessly, fingers gripping the sink counter so hard your knuckles pale.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he groans in ecstasy, burying his face in your ass as he laps at your hole eagerly. “Want you to make a fucking mess for me—cover me in your cum, I want it all—don’t care who sees—”

You can only let out a broken wail as his tongue breaches the tight ring and his slick fingers find their way to your hypersensitive clit, tweaking the bundle of nerves and rubbing quick circles around it as your legs tremble and knees come dangerously close to buckling.

Tears start to build in your eyes as he delivers wet lash after wet lash to your rim with his tongue, swirling and dipping and flicking with almost alarming expertise and an overwhelming desire to make you come undone.

Trembling whimpers fall freely from your lips, now uncaring about who might hear you through the door as Haechan’s mouth brings you close to yet another peak.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm? Gonna cum all over my fingers—want you to cum so bad, please—”

You’re not entirely sure if it’s the way he’s stimulating you and your clit or if it’s the entirely desperate pleading for you to cum, but you do just that, climaxing around his fingers with a poorly restrained moan of his name. A tremor of pleasure travels through your body as your legs shake and you bite down on your bottom lip so hard it hurts.

After one final long drag of his tongue up your slit and crack of your ass, he presses a sloppy wet kiss to your ass cheek before he stands up and starts to fumble with his costume, struggling slightly to find the small zipper at the back of his neck.

You giggle fondly, watching him in the mirror, and turn to face him, reaching behind him and finding the zipper with ease before pulling it down as far as you can reach.

“Better?” you ask softly, and he nods, swallowing visibly.

“Better,” he confirms with a small shy grin before shrugging out of the costume and pushing it down to his ankles, stepping out of the pool of fabric and towards you. He’s clad now in a gray short sleeved shirt and gray boxers that hug his length as it strains against the fabric. When you manage to stop staring at his imprint, you look up at him to see him watching you with a smug grin and an eyebrow raised, the shyness from earlier nowhere to be found.

“See something you like?” he asks teasingly, and you narrow your eyes before laughing and pushing his chest.

“Shut up.” you mutter with a smile, and he catches your hand before it leaves his chest, linking his fingers with yours and kissing the inside of your wrist. Your eyes widen in mild surprise but he keeps kissing up your arm, lingering in the crook of your arm when you giggle, and up your shoulder and neck to connect with your lips in a heated, desperate kiss that makes you feel deliciously filthy when you taste your arousal on his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you,” he grunts, reaching between your bodies to palm at his length roughly. He pulls himself out of his boxers with a groan of relief before pushing you back against the sink counter none too gently and spreading your legs a bit wider.

“Gonna let me fuck your pretty pussy, baby?” he murmurs against your lips, bringing the head of his cock to your core, dragging it up and down along your folds and collecting the arousal to smear over the tip as lubrication.

“Yeah,” you half-whisper, half-groan, and he beams against your lips before pushing the tip of his length past your entrance, taking in a sharp breath as your walls wrap around him welcomingly, practically sucking him further in.

“God, this pussy just loves my cock, doesn’t it?” he teases you, and you whimper in protest, pushing on his chest to get him to stop. Undeterred, he continues on, “I know it does, baby, it’s okay.” All the while, he’s resisting your pushing and leaning closer still to connect his lips with yours over and over again, the only sounds in the room being his grunts of satisfaction when your mouths meet and lewd wet noises as you two kiss, your every breath and cry of pleasure muffled by his relentless kissing.

He starts to fuck into you slowly, gradually building to a pace that has your head tipping back and your lips parting as you desperately pant for air.

His hands roam your body greedily, grabbing at and groping your breasts, squeezing your hips and sliding back to grab at your ass before moving back up to tease at your nipples, pinching them, tweaking, flicking and tugging on them until you let out a pleasure-filled gasp.

Sensing your rapidly declining composure, he brings his lips to your jaw, sucking and licking his way down your neck and past your collarbones before he presses your breasts together and buries his face between them, his mouth leaving sinful trails of saliva as he makes his way to your nipples and sucks on them eagerly, swirling his tongue around the bud and flicking it up and down teasingly before switching to shower the other breast in attention.

Overwhelmed by all the pleasure and the practically static intensity in the air, you can only run your fingers through his hair as he licks and kisses all over your breasts. To your surprise, Haechan doesn’t let up on anything—the strokes into you, the attention given to your breasts, and the greedy caresses and grabs of the fleshier parts of your body like your hips, waist, ass—and his all-encompassing stimulation has you hurtling towards your next climax eagerly.

Not a moment too soon, that deliciously familiar tugging sensation begins to manifest in the pit of your stomach, and your cries grow all the more plaintive as your orgasm starts to build.

“Hae—chan—” you gasp, nails digging none too gently into his shoulders, and Haechan winces in both pain and pleasure. “Gonna cum—wanna cum so bad—let me cum, please—”

“That’s it, baby, go on,” he urges you in a throaty murmur that only serves to send you hurtling towards the edge even faster. “Cum for me, baby, I know you can.”

With a broken, pleading whimper, you reach your peak, now very thankful for Haechan’s tight, damn near possessive grip on you as your legs start to buckle from the overwhelming sensations of pleasure flowing through you.

He dips his head down, kissing down your cheek and finally mouthing languidly at the flesh of your neck, his tongue and teeth both making surprise appearances.

“One day, I’m gonna mark this pretty neck all over.” he slurs, practically drunk with lust as he pounds into you, his thrusts growing more erratic as his desperation to reach his climax increases.

“Haechan,” you moan, moving one hand from his shoulder to cup the back of his neck. “Haechan, are you gonna cum?”

“Fuck—yes, baby, I’m about to cum,” he replies with gritted teeth, and you hum encouragingly, repeatedly flexing your walls around him. “Baby, please tell me I can cum in you—wanna fill you up—”

“Yes,” you agree immediately, and he cries out in relief, the sound of pleasure a bit choked off as he gives one final, deep thrust into you and stays there, burying himself to the hilt as he releases into you, your walls reflexively milking his cock for every last drop.

“You’re amazing,” Haechan whispers adoringly, kissing up your neck and stopping at your lips, pulling you impossibly closer for a slow yet deep kiss that leaves your mind reeling. “Literally like a dream come true.”

He pulls out of you carefully, using a makeshift wad of toilet paper to gingerly clean between your legs and tossing it in the toilet, following it shortly after with another wad he’s used to clean himself up.

“You’d better not clog my toilet, sir,” you joke casually as you touch up your appearance in the mirror over the sink, not noticing until several beats later that Haechan hasn’t responded. When you look over at him curiously, you’re not expecting him to be eyeing you up like a predator about to pounce.

��I think you should avoid calling me things like ‘sir’ if you want to leave this bathroom and go back to that party any time soon.” Haechan warns you in a surprisingly serious voice, dark eyes staring directly into yours as a silent challenge.

You don’t know what’s come over you—possibly the post-nut dopamine rush making you more friendly—but you look over your shoulder at him with your eyebrows raised and a playful smile curling your lips.

“How about things like ‘Daddy’ instead?” you ask curiously, shifting your gaze to watch him in the mirror, and you watch in amusement as he tenses, his jaw clenching handsomely before he looks directly into the mirror and meets your gaze with such a “fuck around and find out” level of intensity that you look away immediately, eyes wide in surprise.

“Keep playing if you want to.” he offers, and you shake your head.

“I’m done being difficult,” you inform him. “I’m busy grappling with the fact that not only did I let my friend’s boyfriend hit just now, but I let my friend’s boyfriend hit while he was dressed as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.”

Haechan laughs at that, the tension between you two dissipating in an instant, before picking up his orange eye mask and attempting to tie it around his face again.

You step in after his second failed attempt, gently taking the garment and placing it over his eyes, making sure the holes are aligned correctly before tying it securely behind his head.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, suddenly sounding a lot more bashful than you’re used to.

You nod, placing your hands on his shoulders and squeezing gently. “You’re welcome.” you reply, but he doesn’t move, still looking into your eyes like he’s committing the sight of you like this to memory. “Haechan, this is the part where you move.” you inform him, and he blinks hard several times before breaking eye contact to look somewhere else.

“Sorry,” he grunts, stepping back so you can move from against the counter. “Wait!” he calls before you open the door, his hand curling around your forearm to pull you into what you assume is one last kiss.

You have to hand it to him; his kisses are nothing short of intense, and each one leaves you a little more mentally disheveled than the one before, which is the exact reason why you have to go quickly.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he calls after you as you step out of the bathroom into the darkened hallway, making sure to look both ways for any surprise witnesses.

As you make your way downstairs to rejoin the party, you flash through a myriad of emotions as you process everything that just took place, but you can’t help but notice that guilt has yet to show itself.

It does dawn on you about an hour later, however, as you catch Haechan watching you for the third time in the past fifteen minutes as you dance and joke with your friends, that you may have started something you can’t just stop on your own, cold turkey style.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the third 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!

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

DON’T WANNA WAIT TO READ THE WHOLE FIC? you can read it here on my patreon!!

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #donghyuck smut #lee haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan x reader

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bucksangel · 1 year ago

Text

milk and sugar

pairing: alpha!steve x alpha!bucky, alpha!steve x artist!omega!reader x alpha!bucky (poly) - omegaverse!au part two

word count: 5.1k

summary: “Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one. And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “no.” or - it’s your first date with your alphas.

warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, reader has insecurities, steve and bucky are adorable and caring, steve is very nervous bc he’s a romantic, like it’s almost unbearable how much of a pure puppy he is, bucky is extremely fond and a little teasing (bc of course he is), omegaverse, kissing, there are bits where it’s just steve and bucky

a/n: this fic doesn’t contain smut, however, due to the nature of my blog this is strictly 18+

milk and honey masterlist | main masterlist | tip jar

‘Good morning, darling.’

That’s the text you received from Bucky at nine that morning - in the group chat he’d made with Steve and you. And while you normally sleep in on Sundays since your studio is closed, you’d woken up early - seven to be exact - due to the anxiety you’ve been feeling ever since your art class ended yesterday.

Truthfully, you didn’t really sleep well anyway. Going on a date with not just one, but two Alphas at the same time has you on edge - though, not in a bad way. No, not at all. These are the good kinds of nerves, the exciting kind.

Well, okay, not all of your nerves are positive. Being naturally shy and reserved has caused you to overthink every single interaction you’ve had with the Alphas, both together and separately. And now that you’re going on this date, you can’t help the way your insecurities come creeping in faster and faster as it gets closer.

Because what if they decide they don’t like you after they actually get the chance to know you? What if they don’t even pay much attention to you and treat this as a date with just them since that must be what they’re more used to? What if you say or do something wrong and they get scared away?

Now, logically, you know those first two outcomes are absurd. Over the past few weeks, they’ve each shown extreme interest in getting to know you, they show how much care they have for you, and oh boy does that knowledge make your heart flutter. It makes you feel good, really good about yourself.

But that last point? Well, that is a big insecurity of yours. As a child, you weren’t that open and didn’t have many friends. And it was hard to make new ones when you would always stutter and trip over yourself, causing many of the kids you’d gone to school with to laugh at you. You were so shy, always the shortest kid in your class which made you an easy target for bullying, especially since you couldn’t hold a conversation well and you’d constantly accidentally bump into someone. It’s honestly a surprise that Tori had stuck around this long.

And, to be completely honest, you think you could deal with them maybe not finding you as interesting as they probably thought, maybe even them telling you that it just wouldn’t work out. Yes, it would hurt for a while, but you would deal with it. However, you absolutely could not live with the Alphas finding you annoying. Because this whole thing already feels like a fever dream, and if you were to fuck it up by doing or saying something embarrassing it would only serve as proof that you aren’t fit for Alphas like them.

It’s nine-fifteen when you respond with ‘good morning :)’

And not even a minute later, Steve texts back. ‘how are you feeling about today?’

Well, isn’t that a good question? Because you want nothing more than to go on this date, you want this to work out so badly that you feel like your heart might burst out of your chest. But, again, those fucking insecurities are messing with your mind.

It’s maybe a few minutes later when you reply with ‘Feeling okay, you guys?’

A bubble pops up at the bottom of the text thread, Bucky typing for a good thirty seconds before it disappears. And it stays like that for another full minute, your heart hammering in your chest as your anxieties are jumping to the worst possible outcome. What if they cancel? What if they-

Your phone screen comes to life when Steve calls you. He’s calling you. And for a moment you want to let it go to voicemail, you don’t want them to hear how nervous you are. But you also don’t want them to think you’re ignoring them, so you answer with a timid, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey,” Steve says calmly, his smooth voice doing a good job of soothing some of your worries.

“Hi!” You hear Bucky yell in the background, causing you to giggle.

“Hi, guys.”

You hear a thud in the background before Bucky yells “Put her on speaker, punk!” And then you can hear both of them clearly, Steve laughing as Bucky huffs in what you assume is a fake annoyance.

“So, uh, I’m just wondering. Um, where are we going today?” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so awkward, for tripping over your words while talking to the two most handsome Alphas you’ve ever met.

“That’s a surprise, honey,” Steve says, the smile on his face is evident in his tone. “Just wear something comfortable.”

“And warm!” Bucky adds, coming closer to the phone. “We don’t need you getting cold, okay?”

The hint of authority in his voice makes your heartbeat pick up speed and the care that’s so evident in just the way he speaks kind of makes you want to cry a little. When was the last time any potential partner showed even these small acts of concern for your well-being? Too long.

“Yes, sir,” You joke, having to bite your lip to keep your smile from widening even further when both Alphas laugh. Butterflies are swirling in your stomach, forming a tornado of anticipation and nerves for the day’s festivities.

“Alright,” Steve says with a hint of laughter. “We’ll let you go get ready and we’ll pick you up in two hours, okay?”

Two hours? That seems like too long yet not long enough. You’ve already showered, all you really need to do is find something to wear and then fix your hair - maybe throw on some mascara. But, still. Two hours seems like the perfect amount of time to have a full-on breakdown over this date. But at least that should also give you some time to recover from said breakdown.

“Yeah, that works!” Internally, you cringe at how eager you sound. Because even though you’re nervous beyond belief, and a tiny part of you wants to cancel the date out of fear of anything embarrassing happening, you don’t think you’d be able to live with yourself if you let these two slip through your fingers without giving it a fighting chance.

“Great,” Bucky says, clearly smiling. “Just send us your address and we’ll be there.”

Once you bid your goodbyes to each other you make sure to send them your address before deciding to freak out over what to wear. Luckily for you, and as though the universe knows you need the help, your doorbell rings soon after. Confused as to who would be at your door this early, you make your way to the door, and when you open it you see Tori standing on the other side with a wide smile.

“Alright, girl,” She says happily, ignoring the incredulous look on your face as she pushes past you to walk into your apartment. “We have to get you ready, where are they taking you?”

“Hello to you too, Tori,” you say with a slight roll of your eyes as you close the door.

“Hey, babe!” Tori grabs your wrist and all but yanks you towards your room, not really caring about the fact that you’re nearly tripping over yourself in an effort to keep up. When you both get to your room she lets go of your arm and heads for your closet.

“So, where are you guys going?”

“I don’t know, they just said to dress warm and comfortable.” Your shoulders shrug, fingers nervously fiddling with each other. You’re not too sure what exactly to wear based on those being the only two requests. Sure, you have plenty of sweaters and jackets and scarves - it’s New York after all - but you don’t know what will impress the Alphas.

You want to impress them so badly. You don’t want them to regret asking you out, and while clothing choices aren’t a ‘make or break’ type of thing it’s still important to you that you look the best you possibly can. After all, anyone who’s seen Steve and Bucky in person would agree that they’re most definitely the two most handsome men to ever exist.

Something soft hitting you in the face knocks you out of your thoughts.

“Hey!” You yelp, looking at the ground to see the thing that hit you - your light brown sweater with a cute graphic of a pumpkin patch on the front. Seconds later, a pair of leggings hit your chest. “Tori!”

Tori simply laughs, then heads to your shoe rack next to the closet door.

“How do you know this will be good for the date?” You ask as you pick up the sweater to inspect it as though you haven’t worn it hundreds of times. But, again, today needs to go perfectly so any stains you might’ve missed would not go down well with you.

“I don’t,” She admits with a shrug of her shoulders. “But that sweater accentuates your boobs and the leggings make your ass look great.”

Your whole body goes hot, the implication of them looking at those parts of your body doesn’t make you shrink away like it normally would, though you can barely stop your insecurities about your body from throwing the items to the side and picking something else to prevent that from happening.

“I-I don’t know, Tori…” You sigh, going over to your bed and sitting down on the edge. “What if they don’t like it? I mean, they’re-”

“Stop it,” Tori says forcefully, walking over to stand in front of you. “You’re beautiful and kind and wonderful and they’re going to love you. And if they don’t, then that’s not your fault. As long as you give it your all, everything will be fine.”

Coming closer, she places her hands on your shoulders so she can shake you a little bit. “I love you, girl. You’re my best friend and I want to see you happy. And it seems like they make you happy, but you make them happy too. I’ve seen it in the way they look at you, how they talk to you. It’s going to be fine, babe. I promise.”

After a long pause where you think over her words, you decide that she’s right - at least about your feelings. You like them so fucking much, so it wouldn’t be fair to them or yourself if you didn’t try your best.

“Okay… Okay, then. Let’s get me ready.”

And with that, Tori smiles brightly, leaning down to squeeze you in a tight hug before releasing you.

____________

It’s a few minutes before eleven when Bucky and Steve park out front of your apartment building. Steve is practically vibrating out of his skin, Bucky even had to convince his mate that he should drive to pick you up since Steve could barely keep his knees from bouncing.

“Baby,” Bucky says, shutting off the engine and twisting in his seat to face Steve. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to just be ourselves and treat her like she deserves, there’s no way she’s going to not like us.”

Steve nods, though he doesn’t look super convinced. It’s clear from how he spent fifteen minutes this morning in the flower shop picking out the perfect bouquet for you that he really, really wants this to work. And even though he doesn’t show it, Bucky knows Steve would be heartbroken if it didn’t. His mate’s always been a softie, and there’s something about you that makes him feel different - better than any other omega ever could.

Bucky knows exactly how he feels. Because, although he’s not as outwardly anxious, he just knows that you’re perfect for them, and he wants to do everything he can to make you see that they can take care of you, they can protect and love you. Your smile and sweet giggle haunt his dreams, his nightmares have long been replaced with his memories of him and Steve - and now you. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to wake up next to you and his Alpha, to cuddle with you two in your nest as you all trade kisses and talk about anything and everything.

“You’re sure?” Steve asks with a timid voice, fiddling with the flowers in his lap. “I - we really like her.”

Bucky sighs, then reaches over the console to place his hand on the back of his mate's neck in a comforting manner. And even though it’s uncomfortable, Bucky leans over and presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips.

“I’m sure, Stevie.”

Steve sighs too, leaning forward to kiss Bucky again before pulling back.

“Okay, Buck.”

With that, they both share a small smile and then get out of the car. It’s about a minute-long elevator ride up to your floor, Bucky holding his mate’s free hand the entire way and sending him feelings of calmness through their bond. It works until they get to your front door because now Steve is practically fumbling with the flowers as he figures out the best way to hold them while Bucky knocks.

It’s about a minute later when the door swings open, but it’s not you. It’s Tori with a wide, knowing smirk on her face.

“Hello, boys,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Those for her?” She nods towards the sunflowers and daisies Steve is holding.

“They are,” Bucky says with a smile of his own. Glancing at Steve to see him nod. “Is she ready?”

“Yes!” You say, quickly running up behind Tori to gently push her to the side and give her a side glare. You’re fiddling with your clothes, tugging at the bottom of the sweater in order to smooth out the fabric.

However, in the Alphas’ eyes, there’s no need for you to do so. Through their bond both of them feel the other go kind of dumb - you always look pretty but today’s outfit just hits them differently. Your eyeliner makes the color of your eyes pop, and the shiny lipgloss makes your lips nearly impossible to not kiss.

They don’t, though. Not yet. The last thing either of them wants to do is make you uncomfortable, especially with Tori standing behind you. So, instead, Bucky smiles and elbows Steve to get him out of his trance.

“Hello, honey,” Bucky says, his smile turning into a smirk when you fail to suppress a squeak.

“H-hi, guys,” You say nervously with a small smile. “Are those for me?” You ask when you notice the flowers in Steve’s hand.

“Oh, um, yes,” Steve stutters ever so slightly, reaching out to hand you the bouquet. “You once said you love Sunflowers.”

____________

“You once said you love Sunflowers.”

Something about this gesture makes you want to tear up. Flowers may not be a big deal to some people, but they mean everything to you. Receiving gifts from partners has been rare for you, so the beauty of the petals and knowing that they’re for you just makes you preen a little bit.

“I do,” You say softly, almost like you can’t believe he remembered. “They’re beautiful, thank you. Really.”

“Just like you,” Steve blurts out before a redness covers his cheeks.

And you absolutely cannot be blamed for the embarrassing squeak you let out. You try being called beautiful by Steve fucking Rogers and not want to bury your face in his neck to inhale his scent.

“Th-thank you,” You say with a giggle, handing the flowers to Tori and giving her a grateful smile as she gives you a quick kiss on your cheek.

“You guys have fun,” She teases, waving you off with a smile. “Treat her well or you’ll have hell to pay.”

“Of course,” Bucky says with an assuring nod. “Wouldn’t treat her with anything but care.” He says this while looking at you though, the twinkle in his eyes making you want to bare your neck to him.

When the door closes behind you, you step closer to the Alphas.

“Are you nervous?” Steve asks, voice soft and caring, though clearly a little anxious. His hand settles on your arm, and Bucky appears beside you to place his hand on your back, as well as take one of your hands in his metal one.

And despite your earlier anxiety, you mean it wholeheartedly when you say, “No.” How can you be nervous now when the feeling of the men’s warm hands on you and their clear concern for your wellbeing makes your heartbeat quicken in anticipation?

“Let’s go?” You ask, face growing warm in slight embarrassment for your enthusiasm.

“Let’s go,” Both Alphas say in unison. And then all of you are off to the truck - a very nicely kept, sleek black truck. Steve opens the back door for you before, to your surprise, sliding in next to you.

“We agreed he could sit in the back with you on the way there as long as I could sit next to you on our way back,” Bucky pipes up at your questioning glance.

Feelings of warmth fill your entire being, and you already know that today is going to be the most fun you’ve had in a while.

____________

It’s about a thirty-five-minute drive before you finally arrive at a park - a beautiful stretch of the greenest grass you’ve ever seen with orange and red-leafed trees surrounding two sides of it. It’s big, but if you look close enough you can make out a trail off to the left. That half hour was, surprisingly to you, filled with pleasant conversation. Now, your previous interactions with the men proved that they were wonderful company, but you’re surprised that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. Everything was moving smoothly, there wasn’t even a single moment of awkward silence.

“We’re here,” Bucky says, pulling into a free parking spot closest to the entrance of the trail. Steve opens the door as Bucky gets out as well and goes around to the back of the truck. And Steve, ever the gentleman, holds your hand as he helps you climb out of the backseat, only letting go when you begin smoothing out your clothes.

“Are we ready?” Bucky appears next to you holding a large blanket and a stereotypical wicker basket.

A small smile forms on your face, and your heartbeat increases ever so slightly. How are they so fucking sweet?

“Yes!” Immediately, your face goes hot, self-conscious of your enthusiasm. But the Alphas don’t seem to mind, in fact, Steve takes the blanket from under Bucky’s arm and tucks it under his own, then grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers together.

“Let’s go then,” Steve says, smiling softly down at you.

With that, the three of you head off to the trail, walking under colorful oak trees that flank both sides of the dirt path. A comfortable silence falls over all of you, only the sounds of birds chirping filling the air. You walk for a few minutes, the leaves crunching under your feet as you take in the beauty surrounding you, your eyes wide with wonder.

The environment is comforting, calm, puts you at ease in a way you don’t normally experience. It’s freeing to feel so content - so happy. It takes about five minutes before you come upon a set of wooden stairs leading down to the most beautiful lake you’ve ever seen. The water is nearly clear, the colorful trees reflecting over the surface, and even though it’s a clear day out, you can’t help but notice the golden hue filling the air. You don’t even notice you’ve stopped walking until Steve tugs on your hand.

“Do you like it?” He asks, almost nervous as he waits for your reaction.

“I…” You trail off, tears filling your eyes. This whole thing is just - just perfect. “I love it,” you say as you look at Steve, a wide smile spreading across your face. And you look at Bucky when you say, “It’s perfect.”

____________

“It’s perfect.”

Bucky can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. They’d both wracked their brains trying to figure out where to take you, what to do. They want to wow you, to show you that they can - and hopefully will get the chance to provide for you, they can make you happy. You’ll never go without, if you want something, they will figure out a way to get it.

“Good,” Steve says softly, smiling down at you before looking up at Bucky and nodding his head.

With that, the three of you make your way down the stairs, Steve holding on to your hand tightly to make sure you don’t fall, and Bucky places his free hand on your back. He can hear how your heartbeat speeds up when he does so and tries so hard not to puff out his chest when you glance up at him through your eyelashes coyly.

Once you’re down by the lake, the men lead you to a large oak tree merely ten or so feet from the edge. Steve is quick to unfold the blanket and spread it out under the tree - large enough to probably cover an entire California King bed. Bucky then places the basket down as his mate takes your hand and helps you sit near the edge of the blanket leaving enough space for the men to sit on either side of you.

The Alphas quickly open the basket and pull out containers of food, opening the lids and placing them in front of you. When they finally sit down - obviously with you in the middle - Bucky notices how wide your eyes are, how you seem transfixed on the array of fruits and sandwiches and cake. It’s when Bucky pulls out the jug of homemade lemonade that you choke back a cry.

“Honey?” Steve asks, turning his body to face you with a concerned look in his eyes.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” Bucky places a hand on your back, sweeping it around to hold your waist. And can you really blame him if his whole body goes hot when you lean into his side and turn your face so it’s halfway buried in his neck?

It takes a few seconds but you’re finally able to gather yourself and pull away.

“You guys are just… I can’t believe it.”

“What can’t you believe, sweetheart?” Steve scoots closer to you, placing his hand on your head to smooth out your hair, and unconsciously turns your head so he can look directly at you. “Tell us what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

____________

You want to scream. You want to yell until your voice gives out. It’s nothing, in the grand scheme of things. Them preparing food - by hand - and bringing you to this beautiful spot might just be a normal thing for most people, but considering you’ve hardly ever been shown this much affection and thoughtfulness. Shaking your head, you look away, unable to withstand the Alpha's intense gaze.

“It’s nothing,” You mumble, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not, honey,” Bucky says, giving your waist an affectionate squeeze. “If you’re upset, we want you to tell us.”

“I’m not! I promise!” You assure them, hesitantly reaching both of your hands out to place them on the Alpha’s legs. “I guess I just… I’ve just never been shown this much… care?” It’s phrased as a question, because you’re unsure if that was the right word to use, but it’s all you can think of at the moment.

“I know it may not seem like a lot,” You continue, taking a deep breath before looking up at Steve, and then Bucky. “But this means the world to me. You guys are just so sweet and thoughtful and I’m not really sure what to do, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, let alone two people.”

Both of the men sigh, and you can almost taste the scent of disappointment wafting off of them. Suddenly your nerves spike, did you say something wrong?

You must have said that out loud because Bucky starts shaking his head. “No, no darling. You didn’t say anything wrong, I promise.”

“We’re just… I guess we’re disappointed that you consider this the height of romance because this is the bare minimum. You should be used to this, you should be loved and worshipped because that’s what you deserve, nothing less. And it’s not your fault, it’s every other person’s fault for not treating you like the perfect Omega you are.” Steve sounds upset, and your heartbeat increases to a degree that you’d think you were having a panic attack if it weren’t for how damn happy you are.

For a moment, you’re unsure as to what to say, it’s just baffling to you that one person, let alone two, can make you feel this way, this joyous and carefree. But luckily Bucky speaks up so you don’t have to.

“And we’d love to have the chance to do that for you,” He says softly, picking up your hand to cradle it in his own so he can place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. And when you stare up into his eyes, you can’t help but gasp at how loving his gaze is. “Will you give us that chance?”

“Yes.” And this time, you’re not embarrassed by how quickly your answer was to come. How can you be when both men sigh in relief and lean into your body so they can wrap you in their arms? It’s warm and comforting, filling you with happiness and care for these men.

When they lean back you really can’t be blamed for the way your gaze finds Steve’s, then drops down to his lips momentarily. At this, you’re a little flustered, suddenly overcome with the want to feel how soft they are.

Steve seems to read your mind because he places his hand on the back of your neck and forces you to hold his gaze.

“Can I kiss you, honey?”

“Please,” You whine, staying in place as the Alpha leans down slowly. Your eyes close when he gets close enough that you can feel his breaths against your mouth. And for a moment, neither of you moves, and your nerves climb higher and higher as the seconds tick by.

You’re about to speak when he finally, finally kisses you. At first, it’s just a simple peck, a chaste kiss on your lips, and then he pulls back by merely a millimeter. It’s you who leans forward to press your lips together again, and you let him lead as you lose yourself in the kiss. Though, it’s over far too soon for your liking by a soft groan.

Pulling away, both you and Steve turn to look at Bucky, who is now sporting a sheepish grin.

“Sorry,” He mumbles with a flushed face. “I just… I love seeing you two together. I love us all being together and having the two people I care about more than anything sharing your feelings. I know it’s-”

“Sweet,” You interrupt him, turning your body so you can face him better and slip your hand out of his. Placing it on his cheek, you smile when he nuzzles into your palm and gives it a little kiss. “I think it’s sweet, Bucky.”

“Can I kiss you too?” He whispers hopefully, smiling when you nod. Unlike his mate, Bucky doesn’t waste any time capturing your lips in a soft but passionate kiss. It’s clear he’s trying to hold back, and something in you just can’t help but feel wanted, desired. This kiss lasts a little longer, and although you can feel Steve’s gaze on you, you’re not in the least bit self-conscious. You know they wouldn’t lie to you, so you find comfort in knowing that you can show affection to both men without either getting upset or jealous.

When you do finally pull away, you can’t help but lean into Bucky’s chest, reaching behind you to grab Steve’s hand.

“I really like you guys,” You mumble into the Alpha’s chest.

“We really like you too,” They say in unison, causing you to smile.

With that, everything seems to fall into place, the men divvy up the food - giving you most of it - and you all eat in comfortable silence, occasionally stealing glances at each other. Once the food is eaten, Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to look up at him.

“Come here,” He says with a smile, guiding you to sit sideways on his lap, facing Steve. And there is absolutely no way in hell you could contain the squeak forcing its way out of your mouth. “Is this okay?” He asks as Steve scoots closer to sit right next to Bucky, picking up your legs and resing them in his lap.

You’ve never nodded faster in your life. You’re nervous, sure, but the utter happiness you’re feeling far outweighs it. That happiness only grows when Bucky nods to his mate, and you watch as the other man picks up the container with the cake. Your eyes widen when Steve picks up a fork and takes a small bit out of one of the slices, carefully leading it up to your mouth where you automatically open it.

Slowly, he slides the fork out, allowing you to chew the cake with a pleased smile on his face. It goes on like this until the slice is completely gone, with Bucky pressing kisses to your temple occasionally and bathing you in his warmth. It makes you preen having these Alphas take care of you like this, providing for you.

You’re content to stay here forever, wrapped up in their light, and by the time you’re done eating completely, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, a yawn forcing your mouth wide open.

“I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, a little embarrassed by how tired you’ve become now that your stomach is full and you’re comfortably resting against Bucky’s chest.

“Don’t be, honey,” Steve says, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. ��You can nap if you want, we’ll be right here when you wake up.”

A smile spreads across your face, and you instinctively bury your head into Bucky’s chest and reach out so you can hold onto Steve’s hands. “Are you sure?” You ask, peeking an eye open so you can look up at the blonde Alpha.

He smiles as he nods, pressing another kiss on the top of your head. “Go to sleep, pretty girl.”

It doesn’t take long for you to float off into dreamland, and the last thing you hear is, “I told you she’s perfect for us.”

tagging: @the-ginger-fairy-artist / @supernovatardis / @perdidosbucky-yyo / @wckedheart / @kandis-mom / @meteorshowercoffee / @wandaneedstherapy / @buckysbarne / @bigcreatorwombatdreamer / @p1ut0smoon / @venusfly11 / @buckybarnesmetalarmswife775 / @the-photo-hoe / @clownsbf / @matsumama / @fandoms-writings / @thornsnvultures / @sadboiabby / @lily-excal / @alright-i-guesss / @blondie-bluue / @loveforreading / @marvel-wifey-86 / @wheezy-stucky / @exposition-belongs-somewhere / @sweater-bee / @stuckysbike / @lovelylittleleigh / @buckyshbic / @starkblackwolf / @caitlink26 / @dreaming-potato / @emeraldfairy23 / @lethargicluv / @kinsssss / @perfectlyboring / @glistenuplove / @monicachic13 / @bbellen1411 / @akmenia / @shawnftjacob / @ladyravenclaw / @sadsadbabygirlrob / @hc-kerr / @iamfandomwasted / @sweetmoonlove0214 / @yesprettypleasesir / @duckies16 / @wizardofstories / @emerald-writes / @xonickibaby / @matchat3a / @hereticdance / @animegirlgeeky / @rippedpiece

#let me know what yall think!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic rec #stucky #steve rogers #stucky imagine #stucky x reader #steve rogers imagine #stucky x reader imagine #alpha!bucky #alpha!stucky #alpha!steve rogers #omega!reader #omegaverse #my writing

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tkwrites · 2 days ago

Text

The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition

Photo from Instagram

Title: The Hughes’s Take Hawaii: Maui Edition

Author: Tory / @tkwrites

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts / Hughes family being family

Warnings: there’s quite a lot of pining in this, and Quinn is more than a little mopey, especially in the beginning. There's one very mild family fight and lots of brotherly chirping. Other than that, it's mostly fluff with some angst.

Summary: Quinn and his family are on Maui for their first week in Hawaii. Without the knowledge that Jack and Sarah have teamed up to surprise him, Quinn is missing her and wishing she were with them. After all, summer is a long time to be without the love of your life. The family goes snorkeling, Quinn proves just how down bad he is for Sarah, and he asks his dad a very important question, which leads to a full Hughes family discussion. All the while, Sarah and Jack are trying their best not to spoil the surprise.

Word count: 7,000

Comments: I know this snapshot has been a long time coming. The rest of the story - when Sarah and Kylee come in to surprise their guys, will be coming next (posting date tbd). I have a love hate relationship with parts of this. Quinn is so, so piney, but also I can’t see him being any other way. In any case, I think it’s still enjoyable to read. I also really enjoyed writing more about the brothers' relationships with each other.

Anonymous asked: Will we get to see the family in Hawaii before Sarah comes? Like I could imagine Quinn just talking about her a lot not realizing she is coming. Also I feel like it would be a good time for him to ask about using his grandmas ring. Anonymous asked: I just read your snapshot where Quinn talks about asking his dad for his grandmas ring for Sarah. I hope we get to see that and he asks in front of his brothers and Ellen as well. It would be so sweet. Anonymous asked: I was thinking about him asking his dad for the ring in front of his brothers and Ellen. Anonymous asked: Does Quinn get mad at Jack because Sarah isn't coming on the trip? We know she's coming as is Luke's gf, but he doesn't know that. Does he blame Jack for that, or does he just embrace the brother and family time instead. aloragrace asked: When do you envision Jim and Ellen finding out about Sarah and Kylee joining them on the trip? Are they surprised, too? Did Ellen try to get Jack to change his mind only to be told the plan? Or one of the girls accidentally tell them? Many possibilities 🤔

The Hughes's Take Hawaii: Maui Edition

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

Upon landing in Maui, the Hughes’ picked up their car and got dinner before going to their vacation rental. It was a beautiful, modern house full of natural light and wooden furniture. It was the rich kind of beachy - all floor to ceiling windows, skylights, and open spaces with tiled floors so the sand would be easy to sweep out. There were stainless appliances and countertops made from the cross-section of a tree - raw edges and all. It looked impressive and expensive and also homey. The furniture was plush and comfortable, as were the beds. This was what a vacation to Hawaii was supposed to be.

On the drive from the airport, they’d decided they should take that first day to adjust to the time change, go to the store, and relax before starting their explorations in the morning.

After helping to unload all the groceries and luggage, Quinn pulled up his world clock to check the time in Vancouver. 8 here meant it was 10 there. Sarah would be getting ready for bed.

“Hey,” she greeted two rings in, “you made it?”

“Yeah,” he said, settling into one of the chairs on the patio, which overlooked some cliffs towering over the ocean. The sun was dipping into the horizon behind them, turning the sky orange and pink and blue. It was so beautiful here, it was almost surreal. How could anything possibly be this beautiful?

“How was the flight?”

“Fine,” he said, tracing the metal filigree of the chair.

“Did you not sleep?”

“Hu?”

“You seem really tired or something,” Sarah said, sitting on her bed. He was usually a little more talkative when they got on the phone.

“I just…” he knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way. He was in paradise, and he was with his family. Millions of people would trade him for this position any day. “I wish you were here.”

Wincing, she stood to pull pajamas from her dresser. “I know, Quinn, but you’re going to have a great time with your family.”

“I know,” he said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I just don’t get to see you very much this summer, and I miss you. I’m still kind of pissed that Jack wouldn’t let you come.”

Biting her lip to keep from saying something stupid, she responded to the only thing she trusted herself to. “I miss you too.”

“You even know Hawaii,” he continued after his deep sigh rushed over the connection.

“I gave your mom a list of things to do,” she reminded.

Even though she had given Ellen a list, she’d done most of the planning with Jack. He’d messaged her as soon as her flights were confirmed, asking what she liked to do, and if there was anything she hadn’t been able to do while she was here.

He booked a helicopter tour she'd always wanted to take, but never had the funding to, as well as a kayaking and hiking trip she’d been on several times, and recommended to everyone who asked her what to do in K’auai.

“It’s not the same,” he said, knowing he sounded like a child.

“It’s not,” she agreed, “but you’re still going to have a great time. You get undivided time with your brothers, which I know you've been looking forward to.”

Although part of him wanted to argue the point more, Quinn let the subject drop. It was done and couldn’t be changed. Even he was growing tired of hearing himself talk about it. When he was able to see past the yawning chasm of missing her, he was looking forward to the time with his brothers.

She seemed to sense the change in his mood and asked, “what does the house look like?”

He switched the call to FaceTime to show her the view and then took her on a tour. Everyone waved from the living room, where they’d started playing chess, when he walked through.

By the time he made it back to the porch, she was yawning.

“I’ll let you go,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her free hand over her mouth.

“No, don’t be. You’ve got work tomorrow. Call me when you’re off?” he asked.

“I will. Love you, Quinny. Have so much fun at the crater tomorrow.” Of all the activities they were doing this first week, this was the only one she was really sad to miss. She'd never been to the Molokini Crater, but the snorkeling was supposed to be unreal, legendary even.

“I’ll take pictures,” he said.

“I can’t wait to see.”

“Love you. Sleep well.”

“I will. Love you, Q.”

As soon as they hung up the call, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief, slumping against the bathroom wall. It had been terrible to keep this secret from him, but now that they were so close to the surprise, it was becoming almost impossible. She couldn’t tell Quinn half of what she was really doing, and it was getting harder and harder to redirect his attention. Now, on top of all that, he was so genuinely sad she wasn’t there, it made her ache. She wanted nothing more than to tell him to just hold on for a few more days. Just a few more days, and she’d be by his side again. The surprise would be incredible, but the build up to it was becoming damn near unbearable.

The next day started early - much earlier than Quinn was used to in the summer. Thankfully, the time difference made the 6am wakeup call feel a little less extreme. 6am Hawaii time was 11am back home. If he and his brothers hadn’t stayed up half the night talking and laughing, he would have been extremely rested.

They had to drive to the west side of the island to catch the boat that would take them on the tour of the crater. His mom had done a ton of research and, Quinn was sure, talked to Sarah, and learned that snorkeling was best in the early morning or late evening. Always the early riser, Ellen had booked them a boat at 7.

The Hughes boys spent most of the 45-minute drive slumped on each others shoulders, trying to catch some extra sleep. Poor Luke, stuck in the middle, got the brunt of it.

The crater, however, was well worth the early drive and the long boat ride. Seeing the half moon of rock rising out of the waves while the morning light glinted pink off of the water as they approached on the yacht, made for an incredible sight.

Once in the water, they saw fish and sea turtles and so much beautiful coral. It was a feast of color and texture.

After diving for a while, Quinn let himself float, taking in the surroundings. More tour boats had arrived while he was under the surface, bringing more people and making the water more choppy.

He couldn't help but feel of two minds. It was incredible to be there and to be there with his family, but he found himself wanting to share everything with Sarah and to hear what she had to say about everything they were seeing. She knew so much about the ocean, and he had so many things he wanted to ask her about.

The peaceful scene was shattered when water flooded into his face as someone suddenly surfaced next to him.

Spluttering and blinking salt water out of his eyes, Quinn laughed as Jack pulled his snorkel out of his mouth and gestured wildly, which only caused him to sink and splash more water around.

“There’s some giant…” Jack paused, gasping for breath through his excitement. “Some giant thing over there,” he exclaimed, pointing at the east end.

Quinn glanced over.

“You can’t see it from here. Come on!”

He hesitated for a moment, looking from Jack to the tip of the crater he was gesturing toward, wondering if this was some kind of prank. There was a crowd of people gathered, all looking the same direction, though, so there had to be something there.

“Dude,” Jack said, an earnest, eager look on his face, “come on.”

So Quinn followed. They made their way to the front of the crowd, and when Quinn dipped below the surface, a huge fish came into view. It was spotted and gliding through the water with lazy swishes of its tail. Compared with the beast, the people in front of it looked tiny, as if it could swallow them whole.

“See?” Jack demanded, when they came back up for air. Pushing his shoulder, he sent more water over Quinn

“What is that?”

“How would I know? Some kind of whale?”

Quinn looked around, spotting his parents a ways off.

After waving and yelling at Luke to join them, they all met in an open spot of water just off from the crowd.

“Did you see the leopard shark?” their dad asked.

“Is that what that is?”

Jim shrugged. “I don't know. That’s what someone by us called it.”

“Kinda big for a shark, isn't it?” Luke asked.

Jim shrugged, “Sarah could tell us.”

“Well, she’s not here,” Quinn pointed out, not quite able to bite back the accusing tone in his voice.

“Can't you send her a picture?” Jack asked to stop himself from apologizing. He had every right to request their vacation to be just their family. Not to mention that Sarah would be joining them in less than 6 days. He didn’t need to feel guilty for anything, and especially didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“Oh. Yeah,” he supposed he could once they were back in the boat. “Give me the GoPro,” he gestured to Luke, making a grabbing motion.

Luke passed him the camera, and Quinn dove back under the water.

Each time they surfaced after that, even if Quinn was still under water, at least one of them would wonder what Sarah could tell them about what they'd just seen.

All in all, they were in the water until 1pm, by which time Quinn was so hungry, he felt like his stomach might just eat its way right out of his body. He'd never been so glad for his moms experience as a hockey mom when she pulled protein bars, trail mix and even Gatorade from that giant beach bag of hers on the boat ride back to the island.

It was at least enough to get back to the car and find a place for a small lunch before going to the luau that night.

“Luke, are you ready?” Ellen called down the hall. She told everyone to be ready at 5:30 so they could leave by six, but Luke was taking his time. She wondered if he was on the phone with Kylee.

“Yeah!” he called back, “just putting on my shoes.”

In a list of things to do, going to a Luau wasn’t on the top of his, but his mom wanted to go, and, as his dad pointed out, she put up with enough stuff she didn’t like, they could spend at least one night doing something she really wanted.

When they finally pulled out at 6:05 and Ellen put their destination in her GPS, she realized their timing was a little off. She’d been certain the center was twenty minutes away. They must have been further from their house when she looked it up earlier. Now, they were only ten minutes away and would arrive more than thirty minutes early. At least they wouldn’t miss anything.

“Why did we have to leave so early?” Jack asked as they pulled in and paid for priority parking.

“I thought it was further away,” she said.

The boys looked at each other, wondering if she’d told them to be ready so early so that they would be there on time. It was a bad day to be punctual.

A woman in a grass skirt and coconut bra welcomed them in without question, giving them each a lei, and leading them to their seats. The crazy thing was they weren’t the only one’s there. At least five other groups were already seated at the long counters overlooking the stage.

Sarah called as they were waiting for the show to start.

As soon as he’d picked up, Luke snatched the phone from Quinn’s hand. “Did you see the leopard shark?” he demanded.

“The whale shark, you mean?” she asked.

“Is that what it was?”

“Who said it was a leopard shark?” she asked, giggling.

“Some woman near us,” Jim said, reaching across Quinn to take the phone. “So, it was a whale shark? Everyone seemed really scared of it.”

“That's too bad.”

“Why?” Ellen asked, popping into the frame.

Quinn huffed. She’d called him, and now she was talking to everyone but him.

“I mean, you shouldn't just swim right up to a wild animal, but whale sharks only eat plankton, so they're usually pretty docile,” Sarah explained. “There was one that used to swim by our conservation cove a lot that we nicknamed Ferdinand. He was always really sweet. We'd pet him and stuff, and he never minded.”

Before Quinn could break in, Jack was reaching across his mom to take the phone, “you're telling me I could have pet a whale?”

“A whale shark,” she corrected.”They're not really whales. They have different fins and different skeletal systems.”

“Whatever,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. “I could have touched it?”

“Maybe? Was someone telling people to back off?”

“I don't know, we didn't get any closer than that.”

“You might have then?” How was she supposed to know when she hadn't been there?

“This is bullshit,” Jack said, “I told you we should have gone closer,” he said, shooting a sarcastic look at his mom.

“I didn't know what it was,” she said, instantly defensive. “It was a big thing in the ocean. Big things in the ocean eat people.”

Sarah giggled, and unable to stand it any longer, Quinn interrupted, “can I talk to my girlfriend, please?” His demand came out strained and too loud as he practically lay across his dads portion of the table, reaching for the phone.

Several people sitting in front of them glanced over their shoulders at his sudden outburst.

“Sorry Quinny,” Jack said, handing it back as he fought to bite back his laughter. He'd known Quinn was anxious to talk to Sarah. It was one of the reasons he'd been so quick to steal the phone from his dad before Quinn could break in. He wanted to see just how long he could stand it.

Jim chuckled as he passed the phone to Quinn, knowing that this outburst would go down in Hughes family history. An instant classic, bound to be brought up at parties and dinners anytime someone asked about Quinn and Sarah. We knew he was whipped when…

Sarah was giggling when Quinn’s face appeared on her phone screen. She was anxious to talk to him, too, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t love the fact that she could hold a conversation with every one of his family members now. It was a relief, really.

“Hi,” he said, feeling heat rise into his cheeks as the reality of what he’d just done settled on him. He was almost always desperate to talk to her, but he could usually hide it better.

“Hi,” she said, a ghost of a laugh still on her face.

Now that he got a good look at her, he saw she was sitting at her desk, wrapping her hair around some kind of contraption he knew was for heatless curls. He’d seen her do it once before: after they got back from their escapades in his parents' car in New Hampshire.

“How was your day?” he asked, trying not to feel awkward about talking to her not only with his family as an audience but a growing number of strangers in the amphitheater as well.

“It was good. I finally got Walter to respond the way I thought he would with the dopamine. I figured out I was using too much. How was yours? Did you enjoy the crater?”

“Yeah, it was so beautiful. I wish you could have seen it.”

Even knowing he was likely going to say something like this didn’t stop Sarah’s heart from catching in her throat. She wished she could have seen it, too. It’d been on her bucket list the entire time she’d lived in Hawaii, but she’d never made it there. “We’ll go back someday,” she said smoothly, glad that she’d rehearsed something to say.

Her response soothed something in him. Yes, she wasn’t here, but they could always come back another summer or during a break in the season. They’d have to come back eventually to get her tattoo at any rate.

“Oh, damn,” she said as the scrunchie she’d been getting ready to wrap around the end of her curler flicked off her fingers, sailing into the closet.

When she got up to retrieve it, he got a clear view of her room. His eyes were immediately drawn to the riot of color covering her bed. Her space was usually very tidy, but today, she had a bunch of what looked like swimsuits spread out over her patchwork quilt.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Sarah stopped, mentally cursing herself for letting the hair tie get away from her. If it hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see the piles of clothing she was going through so she could more easily decide what to pack.

Deciding to feign ignorance, she asked, “hu?”

Jack glanced at his mom, eyes wide. He was going to be so pissed if Sarah was about to blow the surprise over a bunch of swimming suits.

Ellen subtly shook her head, trying to tell him not to react.

When she’d seen Jack’s opinion of Sarah shift a little more after the family reunion, she asked him if, maybe, he’d consider inviting Sarah to Hawaii. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the time with just their family, but she hated seeing Quinn so moody when he and Sarah were apart. Getting that happy side of her oldest son back in New Hampshire made her rethink Jack’s insistence on the vacation being just them.

That’s when he’d filled her in on the plan to surprise his brothers, making her swear not to tell anyone else because, “dad can’t keep a secret for shit.” She found herself surprised and so proud that not only was he planning something so special for his brothers, he was welcoming the girls into the family in a way he hadn’t before.

Now, she was trying to keep him from blowing their cover by reacting to Sarah’s honest mistake.

After retrieving her hair tie, Sarah sat back at her desk and tried to keep her voice level as she told him a partial truth, “Jane, Eunice and I are going to the beach tomorrow. I was just deciding what suit to wear.” She and her roommates were headed to the beach the next day, though Sarah usually didn’t pull out every swimsuit she owned for an outing like that.

He jumped on her story immediately, “not the black one.”

“Why not?” She asked, glancing over her shoulder, where it was laid out on her pillow, already in the ‘yes’ pile. “I thought you liked that one.”

“I do like that one. You look incredible in it.”

Incredible wasn't quite the best word - she could be on the cover of Sports Illustrated in that bikini.

“So I can only wear it around you?” she teased, finally getting the last of her hair secured in place.

“Well, no,” he flustered, caught in his imagined jealousy of some guy seeing her at the beach with her friends, thinking she was hot and single.

Pressing her lips together, she tried not to laugh at his flushed cheeks. “I promise I'll wear it the next time we go to the beach together.” If only he knew how soon that would be.

It wasn’t quite the conversation he wanted to have as his family was around, but it was when they could talk, so he took what he could get.

“Talk tomorrow morning?” she asked when he told her the show was about to start and he had to hang up.

He nodded, already planning to get out of the house so they could talk without anyone overhearing.

“Okay, love you, Quinn.”

“Love you, too.”

“Bye, Sarah,” Luke said, jutting into the frame.

“Bye everyone,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief as the screen went black. All things considered, that call could have been so much worse. At least she’d been able to redirect him away from thinking she was going somewhere.

The lights in the amphitheater dimmed, and Jack couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to chirp his brother a little before the moment passed them by. “I didn’t know you were down THAT bad, Quinny.”

“Fuck off.”

“Boys,” Ellen reprimanded, “we’re in public.”

“He started it,” Quinn said, pointing at Jack.

“I don’t care who started it. Watch your language. We’re not at the rink.”

Jack smirked, glad to have pulled the reaction out of Quinn he’d been aiming for.

The next morning, Quinn woke before everyone else, having set an alarm expressly for that purpose. He wanted some time alone with Sarah, even if it was just to hear her voice.

The phone rang five times and went to voicemail. As he was checking the time — it was nine in Vancouver — his phone buzzed and her photo appeared on the screen.

“Hey,” he said. The greeting came out as a breathed sigh of relief.

“Hi,” she said through a yawn.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked, guilt creeping into his stomach.

“No, not really.” He had, but she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it. It was well past the time she should be up anyway. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he said. “We didn’t really get the chance last night. Not about important stuff, at least.”

“Important stuff?” she repeated, feeling hesitation flutter in her chest. “What important stuff?”

“Just like, us, you know?”

“I don’t,” she said, voice gone wary. What was he getting at here?

“I just mean…” he sighed, deciding he should just be honest, “I just want to hear your voice. Hear about your week.”

“That’s the important stuff?” she asked, feeling a little whiplashed.

“It’s important to me.”

Something in her melted. “I thought I’d pissed you off or something.”

“No. I’m just –” he was just desperate is what he was, and the longer they were apart, the harder it was to hide it. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Quinn,” she said,

“Just want to have a conversation with you where I get to keep you to myself,” he confessed.

“Is this your way of telling me you want to have phone sex?” she asked, her voice lilted with teasing.

“I mean, I'm on a public street right now, which would be a little awkward, but if you want to get yourself off, I wouldn’t say no.”

She laughed, and he smiled at the sound.

“So how was your week?”

“Good,” she told him about the tour she’d given to a rowdy bunch of daycare kids, one of whom fell into the touch tank while trying to pet the sting ray on the other side, and the string of experiments that all failed until they hadn’t.

It wasn’t as good as having her with him, but hearing her while he walked in such a beautiful place made her not being there more bearable than it had been.

He told her about the snorkeling, making sure to let her know everyone in his family mentioned wanting her around so she could tell them what they were looking at.

She smiled, thinking of the snorkeling cove she planned to take them to on K’awai. They’d get that chance, at least.

“So what are you doing next week?” he asked. He knew they’d talk before then, but he liked to know her plans so he could mentally picture where she’d be.

“Going to Trav’s house tomorrow” she said, “and then I have to cram a bunch of stuff in on Monday since I won’t be back to work…” she trailed off, mentally cursing herself. She’d managed to keep this secret from him for two months through two family vacations, and now she’d almost given it up twice in a span of less than twenty-four hours.

“Why are you only working on Monday?” he asked. She hadn’t told him she had any big plans. He would have remembered.

“I —” her mind raced. “They asked me to help out at the rehab hospital with Dr. Forrest,” she lied. They were real plans, but they wouldn’t be taking place for another few weeks. “He wants me to get more exposure to that side of things.”

“That’s awesome, Sar,” he said. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Sarah was lying. She usually halted like that when she was lying. But why would she lie about this? She’d been wanting to break into the research unit for months.

Sarah breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad to have dodged that bullet.

“I wish you were coming here,” he said.

“I know, Q,” she said, “but we’ll see each other soon.” It was the same answer she’d been giving him all summer. He just didn’t know soon would be much sooner than he expected. “And I’m glad you’re getting family time in.”

The call continued as he made his way back to the house. They talked about nothing and everything and made plans for her trip to Michigan.

“I can’t wait to show you the lake,” he said. “It’s so peaceful out there.”

“It sounds really nice.” She knew Quinn loved it in Michigan and that it was more home than anywhere else for him. “I want to see campus, too.”

He beamed. “I’ve gotta take you to Yost. It’s like…”

He was going to tell her it was like a cathedral, but she didn’t finish his sentence. He’d brought it up every time they talked about the Michigan trip. She liked the way he talked about it — with reverence and steeped in memory. It obviously meant so much to him, she couldn’t wait to see him there.

“It’s like a cathedral,” he said dreamily.

“I can’t wait.”

He was back at the house now. He could see Jack at the stove and his parents in the kitchen, preparing coffee. Luke must still be asleep.

Sliding into one of the metal deck chairs, he knew he needed to end the call but put it off a little while longer. Having to say goodbye was the worst part of any phone call with Sarah.

“Are you back at the house?” she asked.

“How’d you know?”

“It sounds different. And I can tell you’re not walking anymore.”

Laughing a little, he marveled at her attention to detail. These little things made him feel seen, like she was really paying attention.

“I guess I have to let you go,” she said, and he was glad she was doing the hard part this time.

“I don’t want to,” he said, surprised to find there was no whine in his voice. It was just a statement of fact. He didn’t want to let her go.

“I know, but we’ll be together before you know it.”

He was never doing a summer like this again. “Yeah.”

“I love you, Quinn.”

“I love you, too, Sarah.”

“We’ll talk soon?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow?”

“Sounds perfect. I’m free anytime before four. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

She even did the hardest part for him and hung up the phone.

Sighing, he lay his head back against the cold metal of the seat as the hand holding his phone fell into his lap.

“Was that Sarah?” his dad asked, coming out to the porch with a mug of coffee.

“Yeah,” Quinn said, still looking up at the sky.

“I’m sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“Me too.”

“You know Jack means well.”

“I know,” Quinn admitted with a sigh. “I just — I miss her, you know?”

Jim hadn’t felt the kind of honeymoon love in a long time, but he remembered it clearly. Wanting to spend every moment he could with Ellen, and feeling like time without her was time wasted. Looking back on it now, it seemed like some kind of euphoric fever dream. He got glimpses of it every once in a while, but the settled, understanding, companionable kind of love he and Ellen shared now wasn’t something he’d be willing to give up for anything.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do.” It felt nice to say it out loud to someone else. He knew he loved Sarah. He’d known for a long time, but to be able to voice it to someone else made it more real.

“I was actually wondering —” Quinn cut himself off. Was he really about to ask this question?

His dad nodded, encouraging him to go on as he took a sip from his mug.

“If I could use grandma's ring?” he asked in a rush, forcing the words out before he lost the nerve.

When his grandmother had died, she gifted a ring to each of her children. Jim walked out with her engagement ring, and the romantic streak in Quinn had always imagined using it as his own engagement ring when he found someone he wanted to marry.

Jim’s eyes widened in shock. He knew Quinn and Sarah were serious and likely headed toward marriage, but Quinn was usually more level-headed than this.

“Not now!” he jumped to clarify, practically shouting. His voice grew softer as he continued to explain, “we haven’t even been dating a year. I don’t want to marry her right now, but I’ve never felt like this before, and I…I always imagined proposing with that ring.” Quinn felt a blush flood his cheeks with the admission. “I think Sarah would really like it. She’s not one to like something flashy, you know?”

“I didn’t know you were even interested in that ring,” Jim admitted. He’d figured none of the boys would actually use it, and it would eventually go to one of their daughters-in-law if she thought it was pretty. More likely, he thought it would end up with one of his nieces. Ellen wore it occasionally on a night out, but the women his boys dated all seemed like they would like something more…well, something more. He agreed that Sarah did seem the type to want something more practical.

“I just…” Quinn paused, trying to find the right words, “you always talked about one of us giving it to our future wife.”

Jim had no idea that sentiment had actually stuck. Plus, things were so different now that all of them had multi-million dollar salaries. Who would choose an old heirloom with a few small, bright diamonds over a giant rock like he saw most players' wives wearing?

“We’ll have to make sure it’s okay with your brothers,” he said. It felt sort of perfunctory, but he couldn’t just go giving something to one of them without talking to the other boys, too.

He nodded.

“We could always ask now,” Jim offered, noticing Quinn playing with the fabric of his basketball shorts. It was one of his nervous tells. “I think Jack’s almost got breakfast ready.” That was something he’d never expected to say while on vacation, but the boys had all volunteered to cook breakfast as they were shopping. He knew, more than anything, it was a surefire way for each of them to get what they wanted at least once, but as a parent, he’d take what he could get.

Quinn agreed. He wanted to have the idea settled. He’d been sitting with it enough now that he knew he wanted to marry Sarah. He wasn’t going to barge forward just yet. They needed to know each other through all four seasons and live together before he did, but as long as everything continued on the path it was on now, he wanted a ring on her finger. He wanted to make it official in every way possible.

The rest of the family was around the table when they walked back inside.

“Took you long enough,” Jack huffed, going to the stove to bring over the eggs, bacon, and pancakes he’d made.

“We were just talking,” Jim said casually, taking his seat across from Ellen.

“Yeah?” she asked, spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate.

“Quinn has a question for everyone.”

They all turned to look at him expectantly. He should have known his dad wouldn’t let him off easy. He always wanted his sons to do the hard work.

“I…” he cleared his throat, “I was asking dad if I could use grandma's ring.”

Before the freak out he could see building on Jack and Luke’s faces came about, he rushed to continue, “not now. I don’t want to propose now, but eventually. I’ve always wanted to use that ring.”

Instead of a freakout, Luke’s fork clattered to his plate, exploding a small mound of scrambled egg over the table. “I want to use that ring,” he said, his voice on the cusp of a whine. He and Kylee had been dating the longest. They should have first dibs, even if Quinn was the oldest, and he and Sarah might be closer to actually getting married.

“I’ve thought about it, too,” Jack admitted, staring down at his plate.

Jim looked across the table to Ellen, who’s surprised expression mirrored his own.

“I suppose,” Ellen said, “it would go to the first one of you to get married.”

“Hmm,” Jim pulled a face, “I don’t want any of them rushing into marriage just so they can have it.”

All three of his sons slumped into their seats in identical expressions of defeat. He almost laughed. Sometimes, it felt like they forgot who raised them.

“Who gets it, then?” Quinn asked, pushing his eggs around his plate.

“Well, traditionally, it would go to the oldest, right?” Ellen asked, looking at Jim for backup.

“That’s not fair!” Luke burst out, his youngest child whine coming out. “It shouldn’t go to Quinn just because he’s oldest. It’s not my fault,” he pointed a finger at his own chest, “I was born last!”

A heavy silence spilled over the table.

“We could get copies made,” she suggested when Jim didn’t say anything, She wasn’t about to touch that with a ten foot pole. She’d always thought inheritance in male birthright order was stupid, but she didn’t have another solution.

Jack snorted, “yeah because that’s not weird.” As much as he wanted to, Jack knew he didn’t really have a claim in the conversation. Luke and Quinn both had serious girlfriends, and Jack hadn’t dated anyone for more than three months since he and Madison broke up. He felt so separate from his brothers in this and nearly suggested that he ought to be the one to get it since he was the only single one. They already had girlfriends. Why should they get thing ring, too? Even thinking it, he knew it didn’t make any sense.

“What’s so weird? You all like it.”

“Because it belonged to grandma,” Luke said, “not because of what it looks like.”

“If you can’t decide, you could all use it as your engagement ring - give it back after the wedding,” Jim offered.

Quinn grimaced. Glancing up, he found an identical expression on Luke’s face. Jack was staring at his plate, forlorn.

“I hate that idea,” Quinn said when no one else spoke up. Then, he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid like that he’d rather Luke have the ring than make Sarah give it back after they got married. If he said that out loud, Luke would jump on it — he would too if the roles were reversed — and he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. If it came down to it, he’d give it to Luke, but he wanted his shot.

“Well,” Ellen said, stepping into the diplomatic role once again, “since none of you are ready to get married just yet, we have some time to figure out what to do.”

“Yeah,” all three of them said in matching tones of resignation.

They spent that afternoon at one of the most beautiful golf courses they’d ever seen. Luke won by one stroke, and Quinn couldn’t help but think Sarah would have taken them all to task if she was there.

The next day found them at a small beach, trying to surf. The actual surfing wasn’t a problem. They all had excellent balance and wake surfed in the lake back home, but paddling out to catch a wave was exhausting.

After fifteen or so attempts, Quinn decided to take a break and flopped onto the beach blanket next to Jack, who was reading a crime thriller Quinn had recommended to him.

“Wha’d’ya think?”

“It’s good so far. This Audrey woman is nuts.”

Quinn laughed, remembering, “yeah, she gets worse.”

Jack didn’t think that could be possible, but it was fiction for a reason.

When he finished the chapter, Jack shut the book and set it back in the big basket his mom had brought. She and their dad were on a walk. If he’d been following their progress correctly, they were the two little specks in front of the sandy cliff around the north side of the bay.

“I can’t believe you’re getting ready to propose to someone,” Jack said when he and Quinn had been sitting in silence for a while.

“I don’t know that I’m getting ready, really.”

“Whatever. Semantics,” Jack defended, waving away his rebuttal.

Quinn laughed. “Can you call it semantics when it’s about a life altering question?”

“I just mean like, you know, you know? I’ve never felt that way.” Truthfully, Jack always thought he would be the first one to get married. He was more outgoing than his brothers, and he’d had more girlfriends. Although he supposed this was probably one of those things where quality held more weight than quantity. At the rate things were going, he was likely to be the last.

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, leaning back on his elbows. He hadn’t expected to feel like this either. Comparing this summer to the one before was like comparing apples to oranges. Sure, they were both summers, but he felt so off kilter last year, and this year, other than wishing he and Sarah weren’t living apart, he felt settled.

“It just seems right, you know?” he said with a shrug.

“I’m excited to spend more time with her,” Jack said.

Quinn glanced at him, “when are you spending more time with my girlfriend?”

Oh, Fuck. Jack’s heart jumped into his throat, and he coughed, trying to clear it. “Just that…” he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. He was excited to spend time with Sarah, see how she was around just their family, but he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. They were only two days away from the surprise, and he was blowing it. He consciously stopped himself from slapping his hand to his forehead. A reaction like that would undoubtedly give him away. “I mean, she’s coming to Mich, right?”

“Yeah,” Quinn said, sighing as he lay on his back. He’d put his t-shirt back on, but the sun still licked through the fabric, making him feel warm and sleepy. “Next month.”

Glancing over, Jack was relieved to see Quinn relaxed. Either he was an excellent actor — doubtful — or he’d managed to redirect him enough to not be suspicious. It was time to change the subject.

“You need to throw those glasses in the ocean, man,” Jack said, reaching over to pull the gold frames from his face. Jack knew he liked them, but everyone else agreed they were awful. He thought they made Quinn look like a finance bro.

Quinn smacked his hand away. “I like them. Sarah likes them.”

“She does?” Maybe he needed to rethink his opinions of her. She apparently had worse taste than he thought. “Has she seen them?”

Glaring, Quinn pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could get a better look at Jack, who was sitting with one of his legs bent, an arm loosely slung around it.

“Yes. She’s —” he broke off. “I think she’s seen them.”

Jack scoffed, “I don’t think she has. They’d give her the ick.”

“Fuck off. I do not give Sarah the ick, I can promise you that.”

“You don’t, but those glasses will. Just throw them in and get it over with.”

“First of all, that’s bad for the environment. Secondly, I like them, and third, they were expensive.”

Jack threw his hands in the air in defeat. “One day,” he said, pointing at Quinn, “One day I will make you see reason.”

“Yeah, sure,” Quinn snorted.

“Are we talking about Quinn’s fuck-ass glasses?” Luke asked, walking up to the blanket and dripping water over everything.

“See?” Jack demanded, pointing at their youngest brother as Luke reached for a towel.

By the end of the day, Quinn’s cheeks and stomach hurt from laughing so hard. He had to admit, it was really nice to get this time with his family away from training and the grind of daily life, even if Sarah was still in Vancouver. Now, more than ever, he understood why Jack wanted this vacation to be just them.

Everything would figure itself out. They’d decide who got their grandmas ring, and Sarah would come to Michigan, and then move in when he got back to Van. And the next time a family vacation came around, Quinn knew Sarah wouldn’t get left behind.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 1 month ago

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tori: okay kids, if i may ask a bit of a personal question?

sonic: hmm. okay, shoot

tori: where the fuck are your parents??? you've been battling terrorists since you were like, 8? tails was 4?? where are the adults in your life

sticks: wouldnt you like to know weather boi

charmy: parents are something that more than just cream have??

amy: oh. i got abandoned as a baby

tails: samesies

knuckles: yeah i'm the last of my kind. you can figure out what happened there

shadow: one of my dads was executed by the government. the other one was executed by me

charmy: vector found me in a dumpster behind the denny's

espio: yeah vector's an adult does he count?

jet: i think wave and storm might be my legal guardians actually. idk i'd have to check

blaze: i'm 14 and in charge of a kingdom, guess why that was necessary

marine: i washed up on a beach in a garbage can!

silver: what's a parent

tori:

tori: okay. sonic. what about you

sonic: oh i have no fucking idea lmao. i think i might've spawned in the woods one day

tori: god i wish our planet had child services

#sonic squad #sonic the hedgehog #sth #mine

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poeticpascal · 2 years ago

Text

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went.

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him.

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).”

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him.

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky.

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.”

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones. You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again.

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you.

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss.

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands.

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked.

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness.

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants.

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet.

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap.

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh.

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance.

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-”

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it.

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars.

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl.

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear.

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up.

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.”

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest.

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

#dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x yn #dbf!joel x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal #tlou fic #tlou show

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lesamis · 1 year ago

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1810s dashboard but it's niche drama

💛 heartofanna Following

imagine cancelling someone for saying war is bad

🧵 sharethewoe Follow

#didn't expect better from w*rdsworth but some people i rly thought i could count on…… #anyway we will live to see this empire fall. can't stop history lol (via @heartofanna)

speaking as someone who was press ganged at the age of 17 to serve in his majesty's royal navy i couldn't be more grateful for your poem. young men like me are cannon fodder and you spoke for so many of us. fuck napoleon but fuck parliament even more.

86 notes

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

stable forgiving virtuous flourishing in my lane definitely not buying poison moisturized unbothered never been better

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

me when i lie

179302 notes

🏛 mynoseisfine Follow

Settling this once and for all. What does the public actually think about the Parthenon marbles debate:

🦉 realminerva Follow

lol i know it’s you lord elgin

🦉 realminerva Follow

like we joke and all but fully aside from the fact that removing the sculptures from greek soil was vulturine and opportunistic etc, it’s really just the tip of a frankly gigantic mountain of imperialist bullshit. let’s not pretend we haven’t been brutally killing hundreds who resisted oppression in india, LITERALLY BOMBED A NEUTRAL EUROPEAN CAPITAL, and embarrassed ourselves in the charge against napoleon for years now. pathetic ass empire & evil as hell to boot. @mynoseisfine the greeks who carved your marbles millennia ago would kick your tory ass so hard

3661 notes

🎀 emmawoodhousestan Follow

how do i still keep seeing thomas chatterton's final post being reblogged, wtf is wrong with you freaks??? he was seventeen it was tragic and horrible and happened ages ago. he was a kid just let him rest

294 notes

🍎 masque-off Following

callout post for @castleyeah @lordsidmouth @officialcoe @parliamentofficial: they oppress, murder and famish the british working people & also suck majorly

⛪ castleyeah Follow

sour cuz you’re unfit to have custody of your own kids huh

🍎 masque-off Following

proud to be the dad of a newborn who could already rend your pudding spine asunder with a mere glance

187 notes

🦆 mallardturner Following

finished this today 😊

44 notes

😎 chadeharold Follow

why is it always “you’re risking your life and legacy & will get yourself killed before the age of five and twenty” and never how was swimming the hellespont the hellespont looked fun was it fun

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

ohhh my god you swam the hellespont five years ago?? wooow should we tell everyone?? should we throw a party?? should we invite famous hero of greek myth leander who swam the hellespont

😎 chadeharold Follow

@loved-joanna look we never had any beef & don’t have to start this now. it’s cool that you’re sticking up for my ex, you guys were friends first, but just know that i’ve always trusted your opinion on my work & genuinely respect and admire you & would still be up for a collab whenever.

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

yea sure why don’t your lips collab with my ass

😎 chadeharold Follow

on it boss

1009 notes

#literally call me. down if you are

🍂 endymion Follow

sorry is it me or is the assassin who stabbed german bootleg wordsworth kinda…… 🥵

💄 biprincesscharlotte Mutuals

JOHN KEATS????????

2427 notes

#i'm p sure this is the author of lamia thirstposting on main??? help

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

romanticism this romanticism that why don’t you romanticise universal suffrage and rights for labouring people

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

anyone else in jail for seditious libel

🏹 axelaidtotheroot Mutuals

lmao i'm one of the “anyone else”s and i know you’re enjoying family visits and apparently some kind of cushy armchair situation, plus tons of books. try being in here as a spencean dude they won’t even let me learn how to write. worst of all some evangelical came by yesterday just to proselytize & put me “on the right path” fml

8341 notes

🗻 mounttambora Follow

y'all i don't feel so good :/

59 notes

#if you use dark mode...........rip i guess #this was the most fun i've had writing anything in so long. also. if you see the timeline not check out no you don't #(wedderburn was only imprisoned in the 1820s i think & the lamia volume was also published in 1820)#(also up to you whether he's responding to henry or leigh hunt. it's the 1810s everyone's in jail esp if they're a hunt)#romanticism #and just to be sure.#long post

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brookediamonds · 26 days ago

Note

If youre still taking requests, maybe smth ab axel being the golden retriever boyfriend to the reader. Most people think she doesnt like him and is pitying him but axel makes her smile and laugh and he wants her to smile and laugh as much as possible because its his favorite thinf about her

the reason why i smile | Axel Kovačević x Fem! Reader

Summary: You have a classic case of RBF and there's only person on this plant that can bring the biggest smile to your face. And his name was Axel Kovačević.

side note: Axel is apart of Miyagi-Do in this world!

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: none! fluff

(a/n: I couldn't decide what song I liked better for this, it was between Smile by Avril Lavigne or Crazier by Taylor Swift)

not my gif

"She always looks mad."

"That's just her face."

"She looks so mean."

People couldn't be far from it. You were anything but mean. Sure your eyebrows were always closed in together, and smile lines were nonexistent on your face, but you were surely a smiling on the inside kind of person.

The only people who really knew that were you, your parents, and Axel Kovačević. It's nothing personal to the rest of the world, but what did everyone else have to offer?

You and your teammates have just finished another lesson with Sensei LaRusso and Sensei Lawerence, your body was still running off adrenaline from the sparring you just finished, earning a kudos from your Sensei's.

"That was an awesome match," Axel said as the two of you tied your shoes.

"It was whatever," you respond humbly, with a shrug. Axel snorted making you bump hips wit him.

"Hey, guys!" Sam chippers, walking up to you and Axel along with Miguel.

"Hey," Axel greets them as you continued tying your laces.

"We're gonna head to Golf N'Stuff right now, do you all want to join us?" The curly haired girl asks with a bright smile.

"Yeah, sounds like fun!" your boyfriend responds happily. "Right, (Y/n)?"

You glanced up at the blue eyed boy next to you with an amused expression.

"I guess," you sighed dramatically adjusting your tank top. "But I'm not going like this."

"Of course, we're gonna get changed and meet over there at six," Sam assures you.

You nod and stand up, grabbing your gym bag. Axel followed suit, trailing behind you as the two of you left the Miyagi-Do dojo.

"Good news!" Sam skips over to Tory and Robby who stood over by the exit talking amongst themselves. "I got (Y/n) and Axel to join us later tonight!"

"You actually got her to go?" Tory raises her eyebrows surprised by Sam's news. "Did you have to bribe her or something?"

"Look, I know she's been hard to get to know, but maybe she'll open up a little more after tonight," Sam encourages the group.

"Especially with Axel around," Miguel adds in. "She seems to talk a little more with him."

"Huh," Robby realizes. "You're right, she does talk to us more when he's there."

"I bet they're dating," Tory chimes as the four of the friends began walking to Sam's car.

"I doubt it," Miguel scoffs. "Girl never smiles, much less shows she likes anyone."

"But she does smile when Axel is around," Sam points out to her boyfriend. "Tory might be on to something."

"Okay, let's not speculate," Robby says holds his hands up in defense. "I'm sure they're just friends because they joined us at the same time."

"I'm with Robby on this one," Miguel agreed with his step-brother.

The girls rolled their eyes, sharing a secretive look between them as the four gathered in the Mercedes.

--------------------------------------------------------

Soon enough six pm rolled around, everyone meeting at the entrance of the arcade building. As you and Axel exited the car, your new friends waited patiently for you both.

"Alright, do you guys wanna start with mini golf or the arcade?" Miguel inquires as the six of you stood together.

"Mini golf!" Sam and Tory shout out making the boys laugh.

"Sound cool with you guys?" Robby asks turning to you and Axel.

"As long as (Y/n)'s on my team, we're good to go," Axel rubs his hands together, making your snort.

Sam’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she took notice to your lingering eyes on the boy next to you. "Actually, I’ve got a better idea. How about… girls versus boys?"

"I like that idea," you spoke walking over to the brunette. Axel's face drops seeing your betrayal.

"And loser buys snacks," Tory adds in with a devious smirk.

"Deal," Miguel agrees. "Hope you ladies brought your wallets."

"We won't need them," you taunt back. "Let's go get our clubs."

Tory and Sam fist bump behind your back, happy they were able to get you on their team. The music played loudly around the venue, neon lights lighting up the outside as everyone grabbed their gear.

As the six of you lined up at the first obstacle, you placed the ball down steadily lining up your shot. As you were about to hit the ball, you feel a presence lean down close to you, his voice low and warm, "good luck."

"Go away," you swat Axel away from you as if he were a gnat in your ear. He laughs watching as you carefully hit the target, the ball smoothly going down the drain.

"Nice one!" Sam cheers you on. You glare over at Axel who stood happily behind you, as if he hadn't tried to sabotage you.

As Sam went up next, you walked over to the tall boy, using your golf club to lean on.

"Don't think that flirty tone is gonna work on me," you say lowly so no one else would hear you.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Axel responds, playing dumb.

Without your knowledge, Tory catches Axel squeezing your left hip, before moving to go next at the ball. She knew it.

----------------------------------------------------

After winning by one shot, the six of you decide to head inside and continue your fun with other games. As all of you split amongst yourselves, you went along with Sam and Robby to grab some game cards for the rest of your group.

"So, how'd you do it?" Tory asks moving to stand beside Axel.

"Do what?" He asks out of confusion.

"How did you manage to get with (Y/n)?" She smirks. Miguel looks over at the blonde wide eyed at her question.

"Tory!" Miguel mutters.

Axel barks out a laugh, a tint of a blush creeping up his neck.

"Holy shit," Miguel whispers seeing Axel's sheepish look. "You are dating (Y/n)!"

"What can I say?" Axel smiles softly, looking over at you as you stood in line grabbing a card. "I like a challenge."

"No but seriously, she's hard to read, how'd you get her to open up?" Miguel questions the tall boy next to him.

"She's actually one of the easiest people to talk to," he says. "Once you get past her 'don't talk to me' vibe, she's a great listener."

Tory looks over at Axel impressed with his description of her, now seeing how intently she always paid attention to those around her.

"Okay, we have enough for pretty much every game here," Sam, Robby, and (Y/n) come back to the group.

Miguel and Tory watched as you immediately went to Axel's side, your arm barely grazing his.

"I think we should start at basketball," Axel says turning to you.

"Fine, but don't cry when I beat you," you respond sassily making Robby and Tory laugh.

"She's so mean," Axel exhales watching you saunter towards the basketball machine. "I love it."

He walks off after you, placing a hand on your back making you turn back to him with a slight smile.

"Did we miss something?" Robby asks Tory seeing you bump your hips with Axel's to scoot him over to his side.

"Tory and Sam were right," Miguel admits with a playful eye roll. "They're dating."

"You see!" Sam cheers raising a hand to high five Tory.

"Makes sense," Robby nods looking over at you both as you let Axel stand behind you to guide your hands shoot the basketball.

And completely miss, making you laugh and gently punch him in the shoulder.

"They're cute," Sam pouts seeking her own affection from her own boyfriend.

As the other four watched you, you turned your back to them, facing the boy who just beat you in the game.

"Why are they looking at us like that?" You crossed your arms, your mouth falling into a straight line.

"I might've told them I'm hopelessly in love with you," Axel says grabbing the tickets that printed out of the machine. He stands up straight, taking a step towards you as you narrowed your eyes up at him.

"You what?" You laughed softly.

"They figured it out," Axel explains with a slight grin. "Someone can't keep their hands off me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him away from you softly, unable to hide your shy smirk.

"Whatever, you're the one that's always hanging off me," you flip your hair over your shoulder.

"I can't help it, you're irresistible," he says nonchalantly making you blush. "Now, let's win some more tickets because I see a stuffed dragon begging me to win it for you."

"You're ridiculous," you scoffed glancing over at the pink dragon sitting on one of the shelves behind the counter.

"You love it," Axel teases you, quickly pecking your forehead.

"Fine, but only because you made me lose," you say grabbing ahold of his hand, leading him to another game.

Axel can't help but smile at his girl, enjoying every minute she dragged him around.

"So cute," Sam cooes as she inserted her game card into a game of ski ball, seeing Axel and (Y/n) walk hand in hand toward the air hockey table.

"Adorable," Robby nods his head in agreement.

"Wait!" Axel stops you two in your place, making you come to a halt. "'Let's do this real quick."

"Axel," you groaned as he pushed you into a photo booth. You sighed as he shut the curtain closed from prying eyes, and slid a five dollar bill into the machine.

"You will love it, come here," he places an arm over your shoulder making you scoot back into his hold, wanting to be annoyed.

"I hate pictures," you grumble as you waited for the countdown.

"Not with me you don't," he says teasingly leaning in close to you to press a sloppy kiss against your cheek making you push him away as you laughed.

"That was perfect," he grinned seeing it pop on the screen, perfectly capturing your relationship. "Let's do something silly."

You decide to go along with the boy you adored, and stick your tongue out holding up a peace sign as he copied your same pose.

"Okay, now sweet," he suggests, his expression softening. He leaned his forehead against yours, his bright blue eyes catching your breath, like they always do.

"Axel," you murmered, feeling a flutter of warmth spread through you.

He grinned before molding your lips with his own, the final flash capturing the sweet moment. When he pulls back, you're flustered but peck his lips one last time.

The screen displayed the photo strip preview, and Axel reached out to grab the print as it slid out of the machine. He held it up with a triumphant smile.

"Look at that beautiful smile," he says pointing at the first picture where you're fighting to hold back a smile as you push him away in the photo.

"Gross," you fake gag.

"Hey, it's my favorite thing about you, you know?" Axel defends your feature. You look up at him with curious eyes.

"Really?" Your tone is genuine, a certain look of innocence Axel hardly ever saw.

"I thought it was obvious," he remarks pulling his phone out, and opening his gallery. He wiped through rows of phots of you smiling, some of them you weren't even looking at the camera.

"I love to see you smile," he exclaims, still scrolling through more photos. You can't help but smile, actually smile, with the way your heart melts as he looks at your pictures fondly.

Axel's eyes wonder over to you as you admire the photographs.

"That's my girl," he says proudly making you shake your head.

"Yeah, you still owe your girl some nachos and a slushy," you remind him playfully as you both moved to leave the booth.

"Yes dear," he replies with a mock-serious tone, staring down at you lovingly.

Your group of friends walk up to you, peering over your shoulder to see the photos.

"What were you two doing in there?" Miguel teases you as he bumped his shoulder against yours making you roll your eyes.

"Getting proof," Axel said confidently, pulling out the photo strip and holding it up for everyone to see. "She loves me!"

"Axel!" you whined as everyone closed in on him, taking in the pictures.

"Freaking adorable," Tory states giving you a sideways smile.

"Who knew (Y/n) smiled," Robby eggs you on making you frown.

"See what you did," you said snatching the photo out of Axel's grip. "You're messing with my street cred!"

"Worth it," he shrugged, completely unbothered. "I will buy you Reese's to make up for it."

You perked up at the idea of the peanut butter dessert. "Fine."

As you walked along with Sam and Tory, Miguel and Robby fell back behind with Axel.

"They have us wrapped around their fingers, don't they?" Robby sighed out referring to their girlfriends whom walked ahead of them, sharing laughter.

"Oh for sure," Miguel agrees.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Axel grinned, already thinking of ways on how to win you that pink dragon that called your name.

-------------------------------------------------

(a/n: OMGGG I loved writing this!!! It was so cute and fun, I might write more on this trope. Thank you for this request!!)

#axel kovacevic x reader #axel cobra kai #axel kovacevic imagines #axel x reader #axel kovacevic #cobra kai

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itsnesss · 26 days ago

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Hey! I’m really enjoying the fanfics. I was wondering if you would be open to writing a Robby fanfic. In this story, the reader takes Tory's place, but instead of what happened in part 2 during their talk at the hotel, they work things out and end up cuddling in her room. I’m looking for something wholesome overall, but feel free to add some spicy elements if you’d like. Only if you have the time, of course. Thank you!❤️👍

𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 | robby keene × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, romance, emotional conflict, mild angst, reconciliation, mentions of emotional distress

word count | 2.0 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The hotel room is dimly lit, barely illuminated by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. You should have fallen asleep hours ago, but insomnia keeps you trapped. Every time you close your eyes, images of what's going on between you and Robby take over your mind.

Ever since you decided to join Cobra Kai to compete in the Sekai Taikai, things between you have grown tense, almost unbearable. You did it because you believed it was best for you, for your growth as a karateka. But you can't shake the feeling that it was also a betrayal to him, even if he never said it directly.

A soft knock at your door breaks the silence. You sit up quickly, your heart pounding. Who could it be at this hour? Barefoot, you walk to the door, your steps light on the carpet. Slowly, you open it, and there he is.

"Hey," Robby says, that calm voice of his always managing to soothe you. "I thought this was a good time to talk."

You remain still for a moment, struggling against the whirlwind of emotions his presence stirs. Finally, you step into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

"I don’t know if it is," you whisper. "I’m only making things worse for you."

"No, it’s okay," he says firmly, though you can see the tension in his eyes.

"No, it’s not, Robby," you reply, avoiding his gaze. The weight of your words sinks in before you even speak them. "That’s why I... I think we should focus on karate now."

His expression hardens, his face shifting.

"What does that mean?" he asks, though it seems like he already knows the answer.

"For us, for our teams... you know," you say, trying to stay strong even as your voice trembles. "I need to own my decision to be here."

The silence that follows is deafening. You can feel how Robby wrestles with your words, trying to process them. Finally, he shakes his head.

"I’m not accepting that," he says, his voice low but filled with emotion. "I don’t think focusing on karate means pushing each other away."

"Robby..."

"No, let me finish. You made your choice, and I respect it. I don’t like it, but I respect it. What I won’t respect is you using that as an excuse to push me out of your life."

You’re speechless, unable to meet his eyes. You want to explain yourself, but all that escapes your lips is a shaky sigh.

"I don’t want to hurt you," you finally admit. "That’s all I feel like I’m doing."

"And do you think putting distance between us will make it hurt less?" he asks, stepping closer. His eyes lock onto yours, and you feel exposed, as if he can read every thought you’ve had in recent days. "This isn’t just hard for you. It’s hard for me too, but I’d rather go through it with you than without you."

Tears gather in your eyes, and you blink rapidly, trying to hold them back. Robby keeps his gaze steady, waiting, giving you the space you need to process what he’s just said.

"I don’t know if I can handle this," you say, your voice barely audible.

"You don’t have to do it alone," he replies with a softness that nearly breaks you.

Before you can stop yourself, you take a step toward him. Robby wraps you in his arms, and for a moment, the weight you've been carrying lifts. His warmth, his closeness — everything about him feels familiar and comforting.

"I’m so sorry," you murmur against his chest. "I never wanted this to get so complicated."

"I know," he says, gently running his fingers through your hair, the tenderness finally making your tears fall.

You stay that way for a few minutes, the empty, silent hallway surrounding you. Finally, you pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

"Can we talk more inside?" he asks, motioning toward your room.

You nod, opening the door and letting him follow you inside. Closing it behind him, you lean against it, feeling more emotionally drained than ever. Robby sits on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a mixture of determination and vulnerability.

"I don’t want to lose you over this," he says, breaking the silence. "What we have is more important than any tournament, any dojo."

You step toward him, then another, until you’re standing in front of him. You sit beside him, feeling his hand reach for yours.

"I don’t want to lose you either," you admit, your fingers intertwining with his. "But I need you to understand that this... being in Cobra Kai is something I feel I have to do."

"I understand," he says, though you can see it still hurts. "Just promise me you won’t let this tear us apart."

You nod slowly, squeezing his hand.

"I promise."

The tension in the air begins to dissipate as he leans in toward you. His lips brush yours softly, making everything else fade away. It’s a kiss filled with promises, understanding, and something stronger than the circumstances surrounding you.

When you finally pull apart, you rest against his chest, feeling calmer than you have in days. Robby wraps his arms around you, holding you as if he never wants to let go.

You don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but in this moment, you’re certain that together, you can face anything.

#cobra kai #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai series #robby keene x femreader #robby keene x reader #robby keene

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theladyofshalott1989 · 24 days ago

Text

"When Sledding Goes Wrong… or Very, Very Right?" // Sebastian Sallow x MC Hurt/Comfort

(Another HCU winter one-shot... because I can't be stopped. Apparently. 🤣)

*Note: This was meant to be more HCU-themed, but Sebastian wanted it to be about HIM, naturally, and, since he always gets his way... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summary: Sebastian has broken his arm, but is he going to tell anyone about it? ...Not unless there's kissing involved.

Word Count: 876

[ AO3 Link ]

Sebastian was fairly certain his arm was broken. Honestly, it wasn’t all that surprising—he and Damien had spent the entire morning sledding, and things had quickly escalated into increasingly risky stunts, especially after Florence, Jaimsen, Poppy, and Tori joined in. Between the sharp turns and wild spins, something like this was bound to happen. But was he going to mention it? Absolutely not.

“One more run down the hill?” Damien said, the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks flushed a delightful pink from the frigid air.

Sebastian hesitated. As much as he wanted to say yes, the dull throb in his arm made the decision for him. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he said, dropping into the snow. He maneuvered his arm into what he hoped was a less excruciating position, all while forcing a grin to stay firmly plastered in place.

“Come on, Sebastian!” Poppy shouted from the top of the hill, cupping her hands around her mouth. Tori was beside her, placing the finishing touches on a rather impressive looking snowman. She’d gone so far as to give it a perfectly sculpted mustache. In the words of Tori, it was molto bene. “One more run!” Poppy continued. “Don’t be a coward.” Her grin turned mischievous as she whipped a snowball from behind her back and lobbed it straight at him.

The snowball struck Sebastian squarely in the chest, and he let out a strangled shout. The sudden jolt sent a fresh wave of agony through his arm; he tried and failed to stop his eyes from watering.

Damien noticed. Because of course he did.

“Sebastian!” Damien called, abandoning his sled entirely. He sprinted down the hill, skidding to a halt only after sending a flurry of snow over Cal and Val, who had been making snow angels on the ground. They yelped indignantly.

“Poppy, stop it! He’s hurt!” Damien yelled.

Florence and Jaimsen paused in their climb up the hill as Poppy exclaimed, “Oh no! I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.” Sebastian could’ve sworn he heard Tori mutter under her breath, “He’s probably faking it,” but his arm hurt far too much to argue.

Sebastian waved Damien off weakly with his good arm. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Damien said, sinking to his knees beside him. His hands fluttered in the air uncertainly for a moment before settling on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I saw your face. You’re in pain.”

Sebastian groaned but didn’t resist as Damien’s fingers moved with practiced care, feeling for injuries. In fact, it felt rather nice. Not that Sebastian would every admit that aloud. When Damien gently touched the back of his head and made steady, piercing eye contact with him, Sebastian bit back a laugh. “Relax, I don’t have a concussion.”

“Where does it hurt?” Damien asked, clearly unamused.

Sebastian sighed. “My arm.”

Damien’s brow furrowed, and he leaned closer, inspecting the awkward angle at which Sebastian cradled his arm. “Why didn’t you say anything? You—”

“Because,” Sebastian cut in, “I didn’t want to ruin the fun.”

Damien tossed him an exasperated look. “You’re truly maddening the majority of the time.” He stood back up and glanced toward the others further up the hill. "Stay here,” he commanded. “I'll get a Wiggenweld from my satchel, then we can head to the infirmary."

Before Sebastian could argue, Damien was already marching back up the hill, pausing just long enough to fling a snowball of his own at Poppy. “That was for Bash!” he yelled. His throw must have been a force to be reckoned with for Poppy fell backward with a loud oof the instant it made contact with her petite body.

Sebastian laughed despite himself, which dissolved into a groan as his arm protested. Trust Damien to fuss over him and still find time for revenge. How very typical.

After a talking down from Tori, Damien returned with a small vial of Wiggenweld in hand. He knelt beside Sebastian, proffering it to him. "This will help," he said.

Sebastian downed the potion in one massive gulp. As the warmth spread from his mouth, down his throat, and finally to his arm, where it settled like a warm blanket, he smiled up at Damien. "Thanks," he murmured.

Damien brushed a stray curl away from Sebastian’s face, tucking it lovingly behind his ear. "Anytime. But," he leaned in, his lips just a breath away from Sebastian's, "next time, let me know sooner."

The pain in Sebastian’s arm was momentarily forgotten. "Are you going to kiss me now, or make me wait?"

Damien chuckled. "Hm, hard to say," he teased before finally planting a quick peck on Sebastian's lips.

Sebastian would have pulled him in for a deeper kiss, but Damien jumped away. "Infirmary first. Kissing later."

"Fine," Sebastian whinged, “but I’m holding you to that.”

“As you should."

“Don’t you forget now.”

Damien mock gasped. “I’d never!”

Merlin, this boy.

“You two haven’t left yet?” Tori shouted from the top of the hill. “Get a move on!”

“We’re going, we’re going,” Sebastian replied, as Damien helped him to his feet, a sly smile on his face.

Infirmary now, kissing later. It was a plan. Maybe breaking his arm wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

MCs mentioned:

tori by @espressoristretto-patronum ; val by @savingsallow ; florence & jaimsen by @leaping-toadstool-caps ; cal by @girl-named-matty ; damien evans (my boy) <3

#hogwarts legacy #hphl #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x male mc #sebastian sallow x m!mc #hogwarts legacy oneshot #hogwarts legacy mc #the hcu #my writing #fluff #hurt/comfort #poppy sweeting #sebastian sallow x damien evans #sebastien

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kairoot · 11 months ago

Text

. ﹙★﹚THE COLOR VIOLET. | 희승

PAIRING : heeseung x f.reader ➖ GENRE : angst, 80s au, high school au ➖ REQUESTED : no ➖ WARNINGS : lowercase intended, pet names, break-up, no happy ending, swearing, let me know if I missed anything! ➖ WC : 1.6K

SECTION SONG: the color violet by tory lanez

.˚ *꒰ঌ ✦ ໒꒱ * ˚. —

apologizing was hard, but accepting an apology you didn’t believe in also proved to be difficult. there were not enough fingers on your hands to count how many times heeseung had apologized for causing you trouble.

whether he wasn’t communicating or distancing himself randomly. but his biggest issue was keeping his promises.

that was definitely something he lacked in your relationship and it was getting old. he’d fill your head with all these fantasies, sweet talking you until it was time to actually act on what he’s saying.

you used to believe him, getting your hopes high when he would tell you things but disappointed when they wouldn’t come true. now, you wouldn’t even bat a lash at anything he was saying. cause in the end it would never happen.

you sat on the bleachers in the gym, watching everyone dance around with friends or their partner. your chin rested in your hand as you thought to yourself. staying at home with a cola in your hand and watching full house play on the television screen seemed like a much better idea. you wondered why you didn’t go with that choice rather than believing heeseung when he said he’d be joining you that night.

a few guys had gave you glances, showing that they were interested and some even came up to you, but you were in no mood to move around. and even though you planned to end things with heeseung, that didn’t mean your loyalty wouldn’t remain.

before you could let your eyes wander anywhere else, one of the large double doors of the gym flew open. your eyes widened as your boyfriend entered the building, hair and suit soaked from what you assumed was rain.

his eyes hurriedly scanned through the huge crowd of high schoolers, hoping to spot you somewhere on the dance floor.

your feet had began to move down the bleachers before you could even think about it. you scrambled to the drink section hoping that he didn’t catch sight of you.

a sudden feeling of anxiousness washed over you as you poured the red beverage into the matching cup. you gulped it down, trying to rid the dryness in your mouth.

a hand on the small of your back was the reason your drink almost came back up, the sound of your coughing was heard in the small area.

“woah, take it easy on the ‘punch’, maybe?”

there he stood in front of you now, showing off his intoxicating grin. you would’ve fell all the way into his arms if you didn’t have morals.

you avoided his gaze, staring down at the empty cup. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him and say those words all at once.

“hey,” the tip of his finger came to lift your chin, doe eyes looking back into yours.

“you okay?”

you nodded, still looking up at him, feeling a bit vulnerable under his stare.

“c’mon.” he smiled again, starting to lead you toward the dance floor.

“no.” you pulled your hand away from his, remaining in your spot at the drink table.

heeseung looked at you once more, a concerned expression spreading over his features.

“what?”

“i can’t do this, heeseung.” you placed your cup to the side, finally bringing yourself to look at him.

“what.. what do you mean?”

he’d hoped you didn’t mean what he thought you meant but you did. everything that heeseung had put you through caused you anything but happiness.

“you know what i mean.” you sighed.

“baby, you don’t really mean it.” he gave you a half-hearted smile, his hand coming to caress the side of your face.

“as much as i’d hate to admit it, hee.. i do. i mean it.”

for a moment, there was only the sound of music blaring and people cheering around you. heeseung seemed like he couldn’t bring himself to say anything so you continued.

“to be honest with you, this relationship hasn’t brought me much happiness and i think that should change.” you removed his hand from your cheek as it came to rest at his side.

his body tensed up as your words seeped into his brain. this was the talk he knew that was coming but never wanted to hear.

“and i.. i just can’t continue like this, hee. not when you can’t even keep your promises.” you tried to be transparent with him but careful not to hurt him either.

“y/n, i’ll do better i-“

“will you, though? or is that just what you’ve told me the last couple of hundred times?” you tilted your head slightly.

“you know, i had to get a ride from jen and her boyfriend because you clearly forgot about tonight.” your hand came up, gesturing to his damp appearance.

he sighed, shaking his head, “look, baby, you know i didn’t mean to..”

“you never do, do you, hee?” you asked, rhetorically.

once again, he couldn’t answer to your words and could barely look you in the eye.

you took one more glance at him before walking off to another corner of the gym.

heeseung felt his eyes burning as he took the cup you were drinking from and took a sip from it.

after realizing he couldn’t stand being in the same place he had his heart broken in and with all the love songs playing, he took long strides toward the double doors he came in, now exiting through them.

the rain still came down like pellets on him as he struggled to find his dark tinted car.

he stumbled toward the door, unlocking it and sliding in the drivers seat. the engine started as the key entered the ignition and he pulled out of the school parking lot, already doing 90 in the rain.

heeseung wasn’t angry at you, per se. actually, he was quite frustrated with himself. he didn’t blame you for breaking up with him. it was his own fault that his heart got broken and that you couldn’t have the happiness that you deserved.

★ ★

milan’s note: LOL no joke this sucks ik.. i havent had the chance to write a longer fic in a while and this clearly shows but i wanted to try something new! first sentence prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz — message or comment to be added

#kairoot #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen angst #heeseung x yn #heeseung x you #enhypen heeseung #heeseung enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #𝒮𝑖𝑔𝑛𝑒𝑑，ℳ𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛 ⊹ ₊˚

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lilac-5ky · 2 years ago

Note

Oh then! Can I request a scenario where Toji eavesdrops on a convo between Reader and Gojo (or whoever) where Reader confesses to having a crush on Toji?

Thank you so much!

Confessions of a Confection Thief (Toji x Teacher!Fem!Reader)

Plot: On a warm summer day, you confess your love for the man once known as the Sorcerer Killer to the man who, twelve years ago, spared his life. What you don't count on is the man in question listening in, nor the consequences of a mere lunch invitation.

Tags: au in which Gojo heals Toji's ass with reverse jujutsu and makes him his bitch, reader is megumi's teacher, parent/teacher relationship, age gap (reader early 30s, toji early 40s), character development!toji, soft!toji, confession, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. receiving), facial, doggy style, petnames (teach', sweetheart, baby, doll), MDNI (obviously)

A/N: You can tell I got inspired since this took me 9k words to develop that feature not only the confession, but the date and the "happy ever after" ehe. Hopefully this was worth the wait!

“Damn machine!” You grunt as you kick at the vending machine’s side, lamenting over the 1,000 yen bill you were just robbed of.

“Let me give it a try.” The man beside you suggests and you clear the stage for him to work his magic. His right hand lifts from his pocket, open fingers coaxing an entire bundle of sodas out without even making contact. What a show-off.

He gathers the cans off the ground and hands you the one that is your favorite, making you wait while he places the rest on top of the vendor for a lucky student to find.

“Isn’t that considered damaging school property?” You raise a brow, yanking the ring close to the tab with a pop.

“Is it?” He chuckles, bringing his refreshment to his lips. “It was already damaged when we got here. Ijichi’s gonna get an earful later.”

“I don’t think that falls under Ijichi’s responsibilities, Satoru. Cut him some slack already.”

“No harm in harassing your cute underclassmen from time to time, Y/N.” He smiles. “You should try it too.”

Right, you mutter under your breath, already regretting your decision to spill your heart’s contents on someone with such little regard for others. Shoko would’ve been a better choice. Utahime, too. You could wait until the weekend, get on the first bullet train to Kyoto, and have a girls’ night out like you used to before life and work got in the way. They’d surely talk you out of the horrible mistake you’re about to commit. Maybe that’s why you chose Satoru. He’s the only one who’d give you the final push down the cliff, and you don’t mind the fall.

“So what is it that you wanted to talk about?” He brings you back to the parching reality of Jujutsu Tech’s grounds, with the sun glinting across every metallic surface and body of water in the perimeter. The heatwave has only begun, and thankfully, the outburst of curses has finally simmered down, or else you’ve no idea how you’d survive abandoned building-hopping with those three rascals.

You take a sip from your soda, the taste of honeydew melon cooling your throat like the sweetest form of redemption. You struggle not to gulp it all down in one go, eyeing the remainder of drinks that have vanished in the horizon—or rather, you have, your steps leading you toward a path of tori gates that itself leads to the school’s Inari shrine. This should be safe. No one comes around these places.

“I have a confession to make.”

Satoru stops in his tracks, awaiting a follow-up that doesn’t come. His sunglasses come off, and a knowing smile slowly creeps up his lips. “I know.”

“Y-You do?” You blink in surprise. What does he know? How does he know? Since when does he know? “Satoru—”

“You’re the one who ate the last Manzu.”

And he couldn’t be any more off the mark.

You sigh. “That’s not it.”

“It’s not? Huh.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his palm after chugging his strawberry-flavored soda. “Guess I’ll have to ask Ijichi about that too.”

“Please don’t torment him for useless things.” You cast your gaze to your feet, kicking a pebble as you speak. “What I want to confess is… my feelings.”

The cicadas come to a stop, leaving space for your words to take root. You are hesitant to move forward, cautiously treading on the shells of emotions you recently began to accept. Almost there, you encourage yourself as Satoru invades your personal space, cornering you against the red gate’s pillar.

“Finally decided to profess your love for me?”

You shove his smug face away and roll your eyes at the notion. “Dream on, Shit-toru.”

He takes a step back, acting as if you just delivered a fatal blow to his heart. You chuckle at his childish antics while shaking your head in disapproval. To think the future of the entire Jujutsu world rests on the shoulders of a conceited guy who makes everything about him.

“Then who’s the lucky guy?”

Your anxiety resumes before it has the chance to fully dissipate. You close your eyes and lean back against the pillar, the familiar name on your tongue feeling foreign. “It’s… Fushiguro.”

“Fushiguro?” You nod. You understand it’s a lot to take in and give him a moment to process it, yet the longer he takes to answer, the more tempted you are to say this was a joke and call things off. “Don’t you think there’s a bit of an age gap?”

“I mean… I suppose there is.” You sound defeated. If even Satoru saw this as an issue, then there’s no reason he wouldn’t. “You think it’s that bad?”

“Bad?” His lips twitch. “The heart wants what it wants, Y/N. Give it a few years, and the difference won’t matter.”

“You think I have a chance?”

“Oh, definitely! I saw Yuji move some of his American-star posters into his room last week, and he didn’t throw any away. Jennifer Lawrence ‘s your age, right?”

Your memory is put to the test as you go through various Jennifers. Is she the one from Friends or the one married to Ben Affleck?

“I think she’s older by a few years.”

“Older?” He snorts. “Well, if it makes you feel younger, then who am I to argue?”

You decide to let his comment slide for the sake of picking on the dissonance in his words. “But what does a Hollywood actress have to do with this? And Itadori—what are you talking about?”

“Y/N, you should get to know him a bit better before confessing, don’t you think?” Satoru says, as he finds your beloved pebble and tosses it in your direction. You catch it with your heel. “The kind of woman he likes; his best friend; the ages of top-paid actors. These things shape up a guy’s adolescence. They’re as crucial.”

By the time he finishes talking, all the puzzle pieces fall into place, and you have to mentally control every joint in your body to prevent it from lashing at him with fury second only to the Curse King’s. Even by Satoru’s dubious standards, this is plain outrageous.

“Are you outta your mind?” You yell, pushing your hair off your sweaty forehead with both palms. “How could you—why would you—what do you take me for?” You fail to put your thoughts in order until you suck in a deep breath. “I would never crush on any of my students, or any other minor, for that matter!” You declare.

Thin white eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion. “But you said—”

“Fushiguro! The man I’m in love with is Fushiguro Toji!”

And not a single soul is left on campus who hasn’t heard your confession, no matter how far and wide or close you think they are scattered.

Toji’s never set foot on these damned grounds without cursing to himself as if the paths his shoes traverse are paved with nothing but shit. Even after all these years, something about marching through the front door just doesn’t feel right. It’s not hatred, that’s for sure. He’s spent more than two-thirds of his life cultivating his loathing for sorcerers to the point where he can tell it apart by taste alone.

No, what’s tainting his palate right now and will continue doing so in the days to come is more akin to chagrin than resentment. It’s failure. A failure that’s branded onto the bare skin of his torso and that he can’t pawn off for as long as he stands, because if a fate worse than death exists, then that’s surviving on a snotty brat’s pity.

Wiping some of his sweat and plenty of his regrets against his pants, Toji remembers his reason for being here has nothing to do with Six-Eyes or his past shortcomings, as he’s here to share the news of his divorce papers finalization with the only person he’s keen on letting know: you.

A decade has passed since he last heard from his wife—his ex-wife who had no qualms about leaving everything behind (her daughter included) and ran back to her parents, never to be seen or heard from again until a hotshot big firm lawyer showed up at his doorstep with a bunch of papers and a platinum-coated Montblanc in hand.

And with that, another overdue chapter was closed, the rest of the pages flipping through the wind. By the end of summer, the goalkeeper in his relationship with his son will be heading off to college, and with Tsumiki gone, Megumi decided he’d grown old enough to slam the door on his face and choose that faux albino sorcerer over his own blood.

It was that very rebellion that roused Toji to reevaluate his lifestyle. He stopped counting the years after the candle with the number 4 became prominent in each birthday cake, but that didn’t stop time from moving forward. He was aging. And while one-night stands do a decent enough job to distract him from searching his scalp for graying hair, the nights he catches himself wishing his bed could stay warm the morning after add up.

None of the silly little girls he fools around with are capable of that, not the way you are. Since that first PT meeting he begrudgingly attended two months ago, a rusty cog in his heart began turning again.

You don’t match any of his previous criteria. You don’t come from a wealthy family and aren’t an airhead either. You live in the dorms because you can’t afford rent in the city, and you are smart enough to have graduated from a big university. You are one of them, but you’re also proof that not all beauty was lost with her.

Toji doesn’t want to screw this up. Just once, he wants to do things right. He waited until he was a free man in the eyes of the law, wore his good jeans on a day when wearing jeans should be considered a criminal offense, and kept enough cash to afford however many side dishes you ordered—assuming you accepted his lunch invitation in the first place.

The jittery, four-eyed guy he ran into on his way to your class pointed him in the direction of the school’s shrine. After a while of wandering around, Toji spots two sets of imprints in the soil, the smaller ones belonging to your heels and the larger ones undoubtedly being that brat’s. Luck isn’t on his side today. His stride overlaps with Gojo’s as he childishly covers the younger man’s tracks, leaving yours intact, and eventually, the sound of clamor confirms his lead.

He strays off the pebbled path and mingles with the shadows of the dense forest, scoffing as Gojo’s shit-eating grin becomes apparent. That beanpole’s standing way too close to you. Toji almost intervenes when you finally push him. A kick to the nuts would do him better, but that’s enough for a tiny smile to rise on his scar. That’s my girl.

There’s no reason to stay hidden anymore. After all, that brat is already aware of his presence. He takes a few steps forward, turning into a pillar of salt at your sudden outburst.

“The man I’m in love with is Fushiguro Toji!”

His hand nearly reaches inside his back pocket to double-check the name on his ID. Looks like some of his luck returned to him. Asking you out just got a whole lot easier.

“Fushiguro Toji?” Gojo twists a finger in his ear. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Toji hisses, his fist itching to knock some teeth off his face. That ought to jog his memory, but he holds back, realizing that’s all part of Six-Eyes’ plan. To egg him on into a brawl he can’t win.

“He wiped the floor with your face only a few years back, Satoru.” You sound as irritated as he is. “How could you possibly forget?”

The man folds his arms over his chest, sparing a glare in Toji’s direction as he reclines against the tori gate. “Was it at the arcades? Man, no need to rub it in.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. You sigh, hogging the unoccupied pillar with no intention to play his game.

“What about Megumi’s old man won you over?” Gojo gives in. “His kart skills?”

“So you do remember, after all.” You murmur in a low voice. “I don’t know. He’s just… nice.”

“Nice?” Gojo asks with utter disgust painted on his face.

Nice?

You nod, fumbling with the hem of your navy-blue dress. “Hey, Satoru. You know what makes for a good parent?” You don’t let either of them consider their answers. “It’s effort. Not success, but effort. Mister Fushiguro hasn’t missed any of his son’s PT meetings, even when the two of them are clearly at odds.”

Toji feels too guilty to step in and correct you that his priority is to see you. Not that Megumi doesn’t matter, but what’s the point of hearing his son excels in everything he never could for the nth time in a month?

“And?”

You glance at the clear sky. “And you remember those forms Yaga gave us for the kids to fill out? Nobara said her dream was to buy out Daikanyama. You can guess what Yuji’s was. As for Megumi, he left his blank, and when I asked him later, he said that he doesn’t have time for dreams; that his goal is to repay his dad the money he lost from the Naobito deal, so he owes him nothing.”

The two men blink in surprise. “Didn’t think he knew about that.”

“You aren’t exactly a quiet speaker, Satoru.” You shrug. “Point is, he doesn’t know. Neither of them do. Megumi doesn’t know his father attends his PT meetings, and Mister Fushiguro doesn’t know about his son’s dream. Isn’t it funny? They both care about each other but are too awkward to admit it.”

“And you call me twisted.” Gojo yawns. “You wanna act like a bridge between them? Is that it?”

You shake your head. “I wouldn’t want to interfere. Megumi placed his trust in me as his teacher when he disclosed that, and Mister Fushiguro… We are nothing to each other.”

Yet, Toji mentally added.

“You might think it’s crazy, but I think Mister Fushiguro’s heart is full of raw emotion he can’t put in order on his own. He’s not taught how to, and I… I think I could help him out with that; be someone he can direct those feelings to. No, I—” You shake your head again, except this time you do so with a little smile of conviction tugging at your lips. “I want to be that person. I want to be his person.”

Gojo doesn’t say anything for a good while, and you end up nearly as flustered as Toji himself. “Of course there are plenty of other things I like about him! He is funny, charming, has his own house,” your voice drops in volume, “he is very attractive, and we have the same taste in seafood.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got it all figured out.” Gojo let his hand drop after fixing his sunglasses over his nose bridge. “But you should know, Fushiguro, or rather Zen’in Toji, is a lot more than that. He’s killed more sorcerers in his prime than most curses combined. Not sayin’ that to be a buzz kill, but you should be careful around him, or else,” his tone drops a menacing octave as he peers over his shades, “I’ll have to terminate that relationship myself.

“You get it, right?” He switched back to his usual voice with a lighthearted chuckle. “Wouldn’t want to lose another precious friend.”

Silence reigns between you, and that’s Toji’s cue to walk up. He’s heard enough. The few fallen leaves rustle under his weight, caution thrown to the wind as tiny twigs crunch below his sandals. He’s close enough for you to tell someone’s coming, but not close enough to tell that someone is him.

“Got nothin’ better to do than gossip about others, Six-Eyes?” Toji paces in the middle of you two, his eyes flickering in your direction. He has to brace himself not to smile at how red your face has gotten, his resolve giving way to a suggestive smirk. “Teach’.”

“Mister Fushiguro.” Your smile is shaky, but there. Always there for him.

“Yo, it’s been a long time!” Gojo springs forward. “Came for a rematch?” His hand travels up his neck, rolling his shoulder blades one at a time. “Could use the exercise.”

“I’m done fighting kids.” Toji deadpans.

“Is that so?” Gojo scratches the back of his head. “Your hands must be full with all that jell-o they feed you at retirement house,” he chuckled at his own joke. “What then? Remembered to pay the med bills twelve years later?”

“Satoru!” You object.

“Only if you remembered to hand the Star Vessel cash back.”

“Mister Fushiguro!”

“Money belongs to Amanai,” Gojo raises his volume. “I don’t think she’d want you to have it.”

“Really? ‘Cause last time I checked, corpses don’t talk.” Toji grits his teeth and unwillingly finds himself at the end of your right palm, the other one prompting Gojo to maintain his distance.

Your eyes are round, but the look behind them firm. The same look you assume when you reprimand your students, he bets. His gaze is drawn to your fingers, small and slender as they graze his shirt. You’ve never been so close to him before. If it weren’t for the walking parasite to his left, he might’ve been enjoying the proximity.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, Toji is the one to back away first, clearing his throat with a soundless cough. His eyes remain on Gojo’s while he speaks. “I’m here to take her out.” He stops and considers adding “to lunch”, previous occupation and all, but deems that should be obvious enough.

“You got time?” His tone softens, still bearing hints of the annoyance he failed to submerge.

A single finger pad skims over his chest as you withdraw your hand, slower than you did the other. So cute. He promises to give you plenty of opportunities to touch him later.

“I have an afternoon class, but Satoru can cover for me.” You smile sweetly at Toji and click your heel down on Gojo’s foot. “Right, Satoru?”

He’s inclined to agree, his face lightening up behind his shades. “As long as you agree to grade my papers for the next three months.”

“I’m already stuck grading the papers from when you went to Hiroshima,” you mumble under your breath, your nose scrunching in an expression that’s new to Toji. “Fine.”

“Mister Fushiguro?” You turn to him.

Toji shoots Gojo a stunted glare before his large palm finds its place in the small of your back, prodding you to move forward.

On the way to the car you find yourself making small talk about the weather, and on the way to the restaurant, your getaway is Megumi’s recent success in domain creation. This isn’t the first time you’re alone with him, but with every mile you count away from school grounds, you shrink into an ever-growing bundle of nerves that threatens to unravel on his passenger seat.

You’re in the middle of your third recounting of the kids’ excursion in Saitama when a hand moves to your lap and muzzles your every thought.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Teach’.” Toji says once you’re stopped at a red light.

He’s careful to keep his fingers over your dress, only his thumb looming over the bare skin of your knee. Your glance loses momentum as it travels from his knuckles to his wrist and then his elbow, reveling at the sight of muscles bulging underneath his rolled-up white shirt. You’re glad half of his attention remains on the steering wheel, because if you got to see the other side of his lopsided smile, then you might say something that’s unbecoming of an educator—and you almost do, after his hand drops to the gear stick.

“I don’t normally do these things, Mister Fushiguro.” You admit, preserving some of his leftover warmth with your own palm.

“Hmm? What things?”

“Going on dates with parents—it’s a first for me.”

“Oh? So that’s what this is?” He chuckles lowly, as if the notion were new to him. Other than the few visible wrinkles around his eyes, you wouldn’t guess this man was roughly ten years your senior. “You can relax. Got a long way before the main course, sweetheart.”

Embarrassment flares up in your cheeks at the pet name. You can’t remember the last time you were asked out, let alone called something of that volume. You don’t mind it. If anything, you like the ring.

“Ah, and do me a favor, won’t ya?” His head cocks to the side, tousled black strands falling forward. “Quit callin’ me that.”

“Calling you what?”

“Mister Fushiguro.” He grimaces. “It’s ex mister Fushiguro now.”

“What?” You exclaim with more excitement than you’re entitled to.

It doesn’t go unnoticed. “Check the compartment glove.”

You do as you’re told, discovering a bitten-off subway that’s wrapped around at least four layers of napkins. His sloppy eating habits mustn’t be what he’s so eager for you to see. You nudge it to the side and dig out a few crane toys that are too adorable to be his, and then finally, a stack of creased official documents that you have to separate from the massage parlor flyers stuck between the pages.

You quickly go over the lines, the most notable by far being the words “Divorce Agreement” written in all capitals on the front page. “Is this…?”

He nods. “Got ‘em this morning. Thought you’d take proof over my word.”

“That’s amazing, Mister Fushig—” You bite your tongue. “Looks like you got to keep all your assets, too.”

“All, except that name.”

You remember pondering why, even though Toji was born into the main family, both he and his son left the Zen’in surname behind. Others would kill for a chance to be written in their family registry—but then again, it was just like the Zen’ins to keep clan matters private.

“You can call me Toji until I take on a new surname.” He continues, his voice reflecting his lax smile. “Am open to suggestions.”

You return it, piecing a non-existent strand of hair behind your ear. “Already proposing that I should marry you?”

“Better strike while the iron’s hot,” quietly adding, “figured that should give ya enough time to sort my shit out.”

“What was that?”

He grins as he cups your hand with his own. “We’re here.”

Toji’s restaurant of choice turns out to be a cozy little family restaurant by the park in Nerima. He asks if you’ve been there before, but you shake your head. Having no car means you rarely get to go around Tokyo without Ijichi, the kids, or Utahime whenever she decides to pull a surprise visit. You’re a tourist in your own town.

At this time of the day—neither appropriate for lunch nor for dinner—the tables are mostly empty, and you’re free to choose your own seats. He points at the bar, and you point at the window. He pulls your chair and then plops down on his own, chin quick to balance atop his wrist while he stares off at the greenery on the horizon.

You thought sitting closer to the window would be cooler, but the heat is reflected through the glass. You should have listened to him.

A waiter drops off your menus with a tired smile, patting some of the perspiration off his forehead with a napkin. “Sure is hot today, isn’t it?”

You nod politely and start browsing the list of appetizers. All those nights you spent bent over your tiny desk lamp pile up against you as your stomach lets out a low grumble—overjoyed to be presented with something that doesn’t require a microwave.

“You drink?” Toji waves the wine menu in your face.

“If the occasion calls for it.” Your reply paves the way for his next question. “I’d say a glass of champagne is due to celebrate your freedom.”

He flings the menu at the next table. “Don’t have that here. Maybe next time,” he says, and you almost stand in ovation at the prospect of there being a next time.

“You don’t want anything?”

“Not a drinker.” He doesn’t care to elaborate. You go back to scanning the pages, and you must’ve taken long enough for him to grab onto your menu. “I can recommend you some.”

Your stomach gurgles again, and this time he hears it. His stare lowers over your body, and you shift in your seat, offering him the menu to distract him from your issue. His bottom lip curls in amusement.

“The stake’s good here since their stuff’s from Kobe-hmm,” Toji pauses as he zeroes in on an item that he taps with his index. “The barbecue ribs are the real deal.”

His green orbs spin like pinball in his eyes while he flips through the pages, pointing out what’s good and what sucks, as those are the two main phrases he uses to describe the specialties. This is the most you’ve heard him speak in a row, and admittedly, you miss out on most of what he says taking in his mannerisms.

His surprisingly well-trimmed nails drum on the table when they aren’t shifting to a different page, while his cheek prop up his fist. He makes a habit out of licking his slanted scar at every nasal consonant, and there’s a slight drawl whenever he stumbles upon a foreign word, his thin brows furrowing in uncertainty. However, his most distinctive quirk of all remains the unintentional frown his lips shape; a trait shared with your young protege.

Toji might be a little rough around the edges, but still carries some of that boyish charm.

“So?” He slaps the menu shut.

You suck on your teeth, unable to remember a single specialty. “I’ll have what you’re having. You sound like you come here often.”

He gestures for the waiter to come over. “The kids dragged me here all the time. There’s a park here,” he points outside the window, as if that’s self-explanatory. The image of a little Megumi and a little Tsumiki tugging at their father’s pants to play hide-and-seek makes your heart swell.

The waiter arrives approximately a minute later, and Toji places your orders. You’re apparently having the aforementioned ribs, along with a beef bowl, some chashu, and a few standard vegetable dishes that, for some reason, should not contain any red bell peppers. He chose plenty, but he chose smart. None of these break the bank.

“Why not bell peppers?” You ask once the waiter goes off to fetch your water. Toji scratches his jaw as if he’s got no idea what you’re talking about, until the realization hits him on the head.

“Fuck, Megumi’s the one who hates ‘em.” He curses and motions for the waiter again when you catch his hand in mid-air and bring it down onto the table.

“I’m not a big fan either.”

Your eyes lock with his and slowly dart to where your hands meet, watching as his fingers decisively slip between your own. He forces your wrist to prop against the wood, your knuckles hugging, while he tests out what it feels like to be holding hands. Ever since the only woman he let himself cherish passed away, he’s avoided the slightest illusion of romance, and if you could peer into his brain, you’d see him contemplating how your hands are small like hers—how they’re soft like hers.

They’re just hands; he dismisses the stupid notion that hands can be anything beyond what they appear to be, and yet yours feel special to him. He looks back at what you told that asswipe and wonders if those shards you claimed to see could ever amount to love or if you’d be cut like all the others he purposely hurt. He wonders if you are dumb enough to love him. He wonders if he’s smart enough to love you.

“Here’s the seasoned spinach and the chilled tofu—” The waiter cuts in, and the table clatters after you fail to retrieve your hand. The man makes room for the plates and the glasses, standing there with an awestruck smile until Toji harshly orders him to “Scram”.

Another man with a lousy temper.

Metallic chopsticks replace your hand as Toji transfers about half of the spinach to his plate. “Man, I’m starving.” He declares and wastes no time to dig in.

You follow his lead and quickly forget all about his rudeness as your eyes well up at the euphoric taste that floods your taste buds—your insides sincerely thanking him for each bite that makes it down your throat.

The conversation dies down while you share the appetizers unevenly, with him discreetly claiming the last bites under the guise of asking you whether you’re going to eat that. You don’t mind. After all, he is paying, and he’s ordered enough for your belly to gain that five-month pregnancy bump without your stolen share.

However, when the main dishes arrive, he does the unexpected and takes on your plate first, separating the meat from the bones without your asking. It’s a clumsy way to compensate, but you can’t help but think it’s more of a reflex than a tactic, considering all the times he must’ve had the kids slide their plates his way. You thank him by dropping an extra three chunks of meat on his plate, which he gladly accepts—no returns.

The waiter who didn’t dare approach your table after delivering the ribs comes back with the dessert menus and picks up the dishes. You don’t fuss over your choices for long—Toji decides on chocolate chiffon cake and you on coffee jelly. It is then that you realize your impromptu date is coming to an end, and you haven’t asked him one question about himself.

“So what is it that you actually do?”

No sorcerer who hasn’t heard the name “Sorcerer Killer” exists, yet only a select few know the urban legend behind it has retired—a decisive factor in his deal with Satoru.

“You mean when your little friend ain’t tasking me with his dirty business?” Toji shrugs. “Stocks, mostly.”

“Stocks?” That’s not at all what you expected.

“Takes about five minutes of your time, and if ya get lucky, you’re settled for life. Rest is knowing how to read people and the market.”

Judging by the sound his car engine emits, he must be still waiting for his big break.

“Would you say you’re good at reading others?”

“The market? It depends. The people?” Toji smiles confidently. “Yes.”

“What’s your reading on me then?” You take the bite.

“Hmm.” He rubs his chin while sizing you up. “I bet you were one of those four-eyed nerds at school.” His serious tone makes you snort out loud. “Eighty percent of your experience comes from dating shows, and the other twenty from group dates with your gals. Y’are too damn trusting and find good even in rotten apples, but don’t mind losing a shoe if someone gets on your nerves.”

“Oh, really?” You snicker into your palm and shake your head once he asks you if he’s wrong. “I’d say eighty percent right?”

“Heh, told ya I’m good.”

The waiter interrupts you as he drops your dessert in the middle of the table. He apologizes and points at a few tables away, where a little girl is devouring the last piece of chocolate cake available. Toji huffs in annoyance, attempting to bewitch the cake from the girl’s plate with his glare alone.

“We can share if you want.” You offer him a spoon, which he begrudgingly accepts.

A few spoonfuls and half a dessert later, he points the spoon at the family behind you and asks if you want one. “Kids,” he specifies. “You like ‘em?”

You tap your spoon against your lips. “Would you believe me if I said I see them as walking-talking grading papers? Don’t get me wrong, I love my job and lucked out with our first years, but this was supposed to be a co-teaching gig before Satoru offloaded even the second years on my back.”

“Want me to teach that brat a lesson?” Toji flashes a grin.

“I think his confectionery going missing before he gets to try any is enough punishment.” You smile mischievously. “I can save you some. Wagashi or castella?”

“I’m beginnin’ to like you more by the minute.” He blurts out and perhaps it’s a slip of the tongue because you catch him cocking his eyebrows upward right after.

“I like you too.” You earnestly say. “God, I sound like a teenager.”

“Nah, pretty sure you’re my dream woman.” You both scoff in unison. “Now that’s lame.”

“Yeah, it was.” You hide your blush by pretending to search for the waiter. “Shall we get the check?”

“Thanks for driving me hom—well, back.” You give a little bow, having yet to unbuckle your seat belt.

“Don’t sweat it.” Toji leans against the steering wheel. He looks even more handsome in the late-afternoon light, the shadows that contour his face bringing out his defined jawline and jade eyes. You aren’t prepared to part with the sight. Not when you were just getting accustomed to it, but every word that follows leads to a quicker parting.

“I had fun today.” He nods.

“Let’s do it again sometime.” He nods again.

“I’ll be going now.” He is reluctant to, but nods a third time.

You open the door and step out of the vehicle, your waving turning into a grip as you tug the car door back open. A perplexed look wanes into a full-blown smirk when you ask him if he’d like to come in for a bit.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Your desk chair looks comically small wobbling beneath Toji’s weight, a long arm draped over the backrest while he gawks at your crouching form, half your body—save for your backside—swallowed by the mini fridge. He hears a lot of rattling. The dorms are quiet after sundown, and with the expulsion of the third years, the sound of empty drawers being flipped inside out (just in case a minuscule bottle of Ramune has slipped between them) echoes throughout the east wing’s desolate floors.

You should’ve grabbed those soda cans when you still had the chance. You consider running outside, but in the unlikely event no one’s gotten to them first, you doubt they’re safe for consumption after boiling under the hot sun for hours on end.

“Damn, kid screwed this one up badly, huh?”

You glance over your shoulder at Toji, who’s going through the scattered papers on your desk, finding the one test Megumi flunked in his entire four-month career at Jujutsu Tech. You close the fridge and pad toward the desk, balancing against the edge to peer at the answer sheets in Toji’s hands.

“Everyone failed that test.” You trace a finger over the bright red 48 mark. “Megumi actually did better than most; rest scored below 20.”

“Of course he did.” Toji scoffs.

He leaves the papers on the desk and quirks a brow as he takes in your image. Your dress has lifted higher up your thighs now that you’re propped on the furniture, revealing a slit that his eyes discreetly follow to where his imagination needs to fill in the blanks. He’s not here to fuck you, he reminds himself. He’s here because you were kind enough to offer him a drink for giving you a lift, but your hands are notably empty.

“What happened to the drinks?” Toji forces himself to look you in the eye, supposing that your eyes existed on the same level as your tits—perfectly delineated under your dress’ square neckline. He hasn’t even kissed you, and he’s already picturing what your nipples would look like sucked between his lips.

He shouldn’t go there. He really isn’t here to fuck you.

“I… forgot to do my shopping this week,” you answer, oblivious to his lewd thoughts. “Sorry, I brought you up here for nothing.”

“It’s fine.” Toji glances at the wall clock. Time’s the greatest excuse. “I should go. It’s getting late.”

And he really thinks he’s made the right call, until your dangling foot pushes against his chest to prevent him from getting up—slowly traveling down his lap while his eyes travel up to your actual ones, picking on a glint he previously missed.

“It’s not right for me to let you leave empty-handed.” Your voice assumes a sultry intonation that contradicts your angelic smile. The spread of your legs widens to reveal a thin white strip that clashes with the dark blue of your dress. He feels a strain in his pants; his conviction is wearing thin. It’s more of a “maybe” now, if anything.

His hand slides from your ankle to your knee, rubbing rough circles that purposely stray away from your sensitive parts. “Whatcha offering, doll?” Toji rasps.

“How’s twenty percent of what you got wrong sound?” Your toes create friction as they curl against his crotch, swaying back and forth. He doesn’t answer. He expects you to go on. “I was a big-time nerd. Got in college with a fully covered scholarship and all.”

His breath hitches as he moves closer to your thighs. “Expected that much.”

“And I did go on a lot of group dates. The girls wanted to meet guys whose names didn’t start and end with Gojo Satoru.” Your heel presses firmly onto his length. He’s big. You can’t tell exactly how big, but you know it won’t take long to have his cock plugged in one of your holes.

“And you didn’t?” Toji asks, rolling the plush flesh in his fingers like play-dough.

“I valued my precious dating shows a lot more.” You feel the stretch of his lips as they lay on your inner thigh, peppering kisses until the lower half of his face disappears past the layers of your dress.

“Seems to me I read ya like an open book,” Toji inhales deeply, growling a low “Shiiit, Y/N” when his nose nudges your dripping cunt, his jade eyes flickering shut while you shiver. You’ve never heard him use your name before—all pretense of respect in the form of his little Teach’s drops the second you start to rut your pussy into his face.

Before his hands can slip into your underwear, you prod him back onto his chair and get off the desk. His glare fades as soon as he watches you kneel in front of him and rest both your elbows on both sides of his knees.

“Skipping dates doesn’t mean I missed out on the experience.” Your smile drips with honey while you palm him on the way to unzipping his jeans.

You tug them down, and his hips wiggle to accommodate you. It’s a lot tougher than you thought, with the tight fabric stubbornly adhering to every muscle of his bulky thighs until it recedes. His boxers come down with greater ease, and your hand finally wraps around his cock, feeling his girth out in your open fist.

“I told you at the restaurant, but I really like you.” You give his length a slow stroke that has him sucking his teeth. “I’ve liked you since the moment I saw you barge into my classroom. I like you so much I think I can love you.”

Toji bends forward and pinches your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, tilting your head until his lips find yours—soft when they fumble around and rough when they part for his tongue to sneak into your mouth. Your delicate fingers insist on pumping his cock as he cups your cheek, ending the kiss with a playful bite across your bottom lip.

“I know,” he grins. “Heard ya talkin’ to that brat earlier.”

You would be shying away if it weren’t for his cock throbbing in your grasp, his swollen tip flushed with the exact same shade of feverish red as your cheeks.

“Eavesdropping isn’t so nice, Toji.”

“I’m not so nice either, but you overlook that.” Toji throws his head back, holding onto his breath, while you drool all over his cock head—clear strings of saliva streaming down the veiny shaft. “Y’know what’d be nice, hah—having that nice little mouth of yours wrapped around me.” Your hand drops to his balls, pink lips eager to fulfill his wish, with your cheeks barely hollowing around the tight fit. “So fucking nice,” he hisses.

His filthy praises are muffled out by his groans, which grow both in volume and in pitch the more inches you manage in your throat, his raspiness fading into the breathiest of moans once your nose tingles his unkempt base. You let go with a plop, air returning to your lungs through heavy pants. Your fists take over instead, appearing beyond puny as they struggle to engulf his hefty girth. Toji’s by far the biggest you’ve had; another of his assets you’re elated to discover.

You steal a lick from the precum that’s glazing his tip and purse your lips together. It’s a bit strong in flavor, but you don’t mind. It’s his.

“I meant everything I said,” you beam. “I still think of you as nice.”

“You’re bound to milk some kindness out of me if ya keep goin’ sweetheart.” Toji jokes, taking hold of his cock. He starts jerking himself to the sight of you, and you may have all your clothes on, but the way you genuinely smile at him, lips glossy from spit, almost sends him over the edge. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles. “Even thought you were pretty in that—ugh, what was it?”

“Tunic?” You ask, recounting your first meeting.

“Yeah, right. That ridiculous grandma’s tunic you flaunted.” Raven strands flap over his forehead. “Wanted to rip that right off your body and fuck you on the spot.”

His words send pleasurable tingles throughout your body, with the pool in your panties overflowing your thighs. “What stopped you?” Your lips attach to his balls, your wet tongue lapping around until it finds a spot that has him fisting his cock at a faster pace, the tip rhythmically smacking your forehead.

Toji fails to gather his thoughts; his mind is solely focused on chasing after his incoming release. You feel his balls tighten and back away, setting your palms flat against your lap—eyes marveling at how the man who kept you tossing and turning in an empty bed for months on end is about to spill his load all over your face. A man whom you, up until a few hours ago, dreaded would reject you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he pants out. “Gonna make you even prettier. Gonna make you into my pretty girl—fuck, all mine.”

“All yours, Toji.” You repeat, lulling your tongue out. “Cum on my face, Toji. Please, gimme your cum.”

And it is that please that gets his cock to spurt his milky cum all over your lips and chin, with only a handful of his velvety ropes making it onto your tongue. He grunts, squeezing the final drops from the tip until it stops twitching. He wipes it clean against your lips and helps you to your feet, taking advantage of your imbalance to hold you by the waist.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask, seeing as Toji blatantly drills holes into your skull.

Heavy eyelashes flutter over his low-hooded eyes. A dark chuckle rings against your skin as his mouth presses against your jaw. “Aren’t ya cheeky?” He licks a portion of his cum off your chin and feeds it to your tongue, all nice and slow, in a heady kiss that brings your bodies closer to one another. Your cunt is still soaked, pulsing around nothing, and his cock is still rock-hard, throbbing against your stomach.

Holding turns into groping as Toji gives your ass a squeeze. “Better not fail Megumi from now on.”

Your teeth clash together as you break into a sudden cackle. “Someone might think you’re only doing this to secure his grades.”

“Among other reasons,” he states.

“Is this how you care for your son’s education?” You humor him. “By seducing his teacher?”

“Nah,” Toji pauses to tug at your dress’ strap. He’s going to have to unzip it if he wants to move things forward. “My kid’s plenty smart on his own. Besides, the teacher’s the one doin’ the seducing here.” He caresses your curves and smiles in triumph once he spots the zipper on the side. “Wouldn’t fuck ‘er if she’d let me go back to my car to jerk it like a responsible man would. Would’ve waited until the second date; buy her something good—you like flowers, right?”

You lift your arms for him to strip you. He leaves you to stand in your unmatched underwear, black lace on your tits, and white cotton around your hips. His tongue darts out, wetting his lower lip. “Is it too late to enroll?”

Your eyes perform a full circle. You almost shove his hands away from your bra when you realize it’s already off. He thumbs at your nipples with his palms cupped around your breasts, refusing to let an inch of your soft skin spill from his calloused, practiced fingers.

“I’m afraid you’re behind the rest of the class.” You go along with his game of role-play. “I’d have to give you private lessons.”

“Sign me up.”

Toji steps back to remove his shirt, undoing his buttons so quickly that you’re certain they’ll fly right off. He discards it on the floor, and you take stock of his physique, inevitably gaping at the jagged scars that span from below his left shoulder to the center of his torso. Your fingers carefully trail over them, as if the violence that caused them still lurks beneath.

So that’s what sustaining limitless leaves you with, you momentarily muse, before your sympathy dissolves into a quarter of a smile. You don’t want him to think you’re pitying him—because you aren’t. Both he and Satoru made their choices, and you refuse to be the judge of their decade-long feud.

His hands return to your waist, while yours meet behind his neck. You kiss again and again, the action of mouths stealing each other’s oxygen repeating until the edge of your desk digs into your lower back. His strong arms smother you like he’s never embraced another before; overwhelming you to the point where you’re moaning despite his cock not being in yet.

“Just so you know, this gonna be a regular thing.” Toji mutters, his green eyes confirming his sincerity in the way he pulls your thighs apart. He doesn’t think he’s never said that phrase before. It’s always the opposite.

He dips a hand into your panties, lathering his palm with your slick, and then strokes his dick. “Not ‘ere for the sex only.”

“You’re gonna stay over and buy me breakfast?” You entertain the idea.

“As long as convenience store Onigiri cuts it. A bit tight this month.” Toji leaves you some breathing space, kicking his pants off his ankles. “A’right. Turn around and arch that back for me.”

A wicked smirk rises on his scar as you face away from him. “I was hoping to fuck you on your little classroom desk, but this will do just fine. You can look back on it next time ya feel swamped with papers.”

“I won’t be able to get any work done!” You protest.

The aforementioned papers glue to your breasts when you prop yourself on your elbows. You glance over your shoulder, catching sight of Toji positioning himself between your legs. You feel him run his cock between your now-bare folds, your panties having dropped in a pool around your feet like tasteless anklets.

Toji kneads your ass with one hand, the other stroking himself along your clenching holes. “You can think of this as my confession.” He trails off as he drives his thick cock into your wet pussy, and he does it slowly enough for it not to hurt, but it’s him who ends up needing a good minute to adjust after he bottoms out.

He knows it’ll feel even better once he moves, but it already feels perfect as is. So warm; so tight; so good that he’s afraid he’ll lose composure and jackhammer into you until the desk legs break.

“Haven’t had such perfect pussy in ages.” Toji grunts, his nails digging sharp crescent moons into the fat of your ass.

He’s had his fair share of pretty girls with empty brains and tight cunts, but yours is something else. Yours, he wants it owned. He wants it to lull him to sleep every night, only to wake up the next morning to the mess you’ve made creaming around his cock all night long. He wants to make you into his personal cock warmer, and he nearly cringes at the thought, until he feels you pulse around him and realizes you probably want that too.

“Fuck me, T-Toji.” You stammer, pulling your body forward only to slam it back on his length.

That’s all he needs to get going. His hips mercilessly slap against your own while he drills his cock in and out with such vigor that he feels it kissing your cervix. The desk bangs hard against the wall, almost overpowering the sounds of your soft whimpers. He forces you to meet his tempo, using the leverage on your ass to cut down on the distance between his leaking head and your puffy cunt.

“‘member what I told ya when I first saw ya?” Toji slows down, his fingers reaching between your thighs to swipe at your clit while his hips switch to languid rolls.

“Y-You mean after you—fuck, put your shoes on my desk thinking it was Satoru’s?”

“Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” He huffs and brings your arm behind your back, pressing down on it. “Remember,” he mouths hot kisses down your nape and shoulder, his palm cupping your entire cunt while your walls flutter around him. “Remember how I said you’re too hot to be stuck ‘ere teaching brats manners?”

You fist at the table, desperately searching in your foggy mind for a memory you can’t seem to find or a place to grip, the only answer you can muster being, “You never said that.”

“I didn’t?” Toji flicks the sensitive nub upward. “Well, not every thought’s meant to be shared, mhm?”

He pops your dialogue bubble by nipping at your neck, his cock scratching an itch that has you writhing in pleasure.

“Shhh, baby.” He coos, the warm timbre in his voice soothing the shrill ringing in your head. “Promise I’ll be more vocal now on. Tell ya all about how good that sloppy pussy’s flooding me, or how gorgeous your cute face looks lighting up whenever ya see me.”

The flames in your stomach shoot up to your heart, beating so loud you swear it punctuates his every word.

“How many times was it?” He asks. “Eight PT meetings in two months? Or ten? Ya think I wouldn’t notice I was the only parent called?”

Your head droops forward. “Would’ve been eleven if you didn’t come today. Wanna see more of you, Toji. F-fuck, wanna see you all the time.”

“And you will,” he detaches from your neck and picks up his speed, keen on having you see starts with the way he thumbs your clit. “Gonna make you cum around my cock every day, sweetheart. Just call me and—ugh, I’ll come runnin’. No need for that PT crap.”

Your bitten lips do nothing to contain your unregulated cries as you tighten around him like a vice—the only coherent words among your long-drawn vowels being “I’m cumming, Toji!” that you scream at the top of your lungs.

Toji begrudgingly pulls out, letting you ride your high alone. If he stays in a second longer, he knows you’ll end up with a nine-month trouble that will escalate into a lifelong problem in the form of paychecks for him and test sheets for you.

He plops down on the chair to cool down for a moment, proudly admiring your stupefied expression, eyes blown out with sheer ecstasy, and lips gasping for air.

“Hey. Are you free tomorrow?”

Maybe you are worth the trouble.

The delightful buzzes in your head are replaced with a series of acute knocks against your door. You barely have time to locate your rug of a dress in the corner of the room and zip it up, hoping the fabric’s enough to keep the marks on your body out of your visitor’s field of view.

“Should’ve known,” you groan, wishing you'd shoved your head in the pillows and pretended you were missing—except, there's no hiding from him. You step outside and close the door with your back, folding your arms over your chest. “What brings you here, Satoru?”

“Mornin’ to you too, Y/N.” His mouth is full as he speaks, rice grains framing both sides of his lips. “How was your date?”

“It was…” you pause, focusing on the plastic convenience store bag he’s holding rather than his eyes, “good.”

“Good, huh?” He grimaces. He doesn’t have to tell you he was hoping it’d fail. “Anyway, came to drop these. Someone left them on your doorstep.”

You peer into the contents of the bag, full of onigiri in different flavors—two that are tuna mayo, two with shrimp tempura, two with salted salmon, and lastly, a spare pickled plum.

Your lips curl into a smile as you pick your favorite from the bunch. So that's your answer.

"Thanks, Satoru." He is surprised you didn't scold him, gladly taking his chance to leave before you speak again. "Wait."

"I was the one who stole your Manju."

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