#ft caramel

[wwr-afterdark]

I don’t think I’ve seen all of the bone appétit characters yet... i’ve only seen Nilla, Caramel, and I think the newest girl, but I can’t remember the name of... can you put a new ref of all of them and their names? 

-🧋

(Thank you so much.)

Here's everyone so far! There's one more I'm fighting the temptation to add.

[aquarius-cookie-jar]

Some old screenshots I found about my cookies being silly.

[mejaemin]

caramel - lee donghyuck

+18 mdni !!

wc: 2.8k

summary: donghyuck’s summer tan is just tewww sexy !! and spending your time with him and ilichil at the beach has you appreciating it just a little more

warnings: established relationship, fem reader, reader wears bikini, beach sex, exhibitionism, dry humping, nipple play, unprotected sex, pet names (mama, baby girl, baby), ft. taeyong, yuta, jungwoo, johnny, mark briefly

an: sm you will NEVER be able to keep tan donghyuck from me !!! do not play w me

(caramel masterlist here! ʕ ᵔⰙᵔ⠕ʔ )

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

the evening sun leaves a comfortable blanket of heat on your skin. yuta and jungwoo are controlling the aux from the condo just above your heads, jumping from smooth to chaotic music. the volume is low, so it doesn’t bother you. the waves crashing against the rocks overpower whatever’s playing anyway. mark and johnny have finally finished flailing in the ocean, and are now running back inside with everyone else. the newfound silence feels so comfortable that you turn on your side to nap atop your beach towel. when you do so, you’re met with your boyfriend, who appears to have the same plan.

donghyuck’s caramel skin shines beautifully under the sun, shimmering due to a combination of sweat and sunscreen. his arms are crossed over his stomach, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he soaks in the sun. laying on the beach just before the evening came definitely did him justice. unfortunately, your adoration is cut short when one of his eyes opens.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” his voice deepened and is a little croaky after resting.

“okay.” you respond, knowing he was teasing, but still following through.

you sit up, leaning over donghyuck’s face to reach your beach bag and pull out your digital camera. after sitting back down, you turn it on and point it at him, snapping a few pictures. despite pouting and mumbling an ‘i was joking’, he returns to his original pose for you. when you play them back, they’re beautiful. the filter on the camera makes him seem almost ethereal, his tanned skin glittering in the sunset. upon further inspection his cheeks are pink, so you call him out, intending to scold him for not applying enough sunscreen.

“okay, first of all, you can’t just lean over me and put your tits all in my face and not expect me to be flustered..” he turns his back to you to be sulky, especially when you stay silent after his confession.

the first thing to break the silence was a snort. your struggle to hide your amusement ends when donghyuck turns to look at you and you collapse onto his chest in a fit of laughter. at this he wraps you in his arms and pulls you to straddle his lap. all your giggles fade to silence when you feel his length poke at your ass. it’s now your turn to be flustered when his hands glide over your curves, stopping just under your breasts to rub a thumb over them.

“see what you’re doing? you’re just so pretty.” he grabs the string holding your bikini top against your neck and pulls, letting it fall forward. he undoes the second string behind your back and then holds out the top to you. “who bought this for you?” he asks, tilting his head innocently.

your thighs squeeze gently around his waist. “hyuck..” you whimper.

he brings you forward to press a kiss to your lips, hissing when it causes you to bump against his erection. when you pull away his gaze softens as he tucks a hair behind your ear. “it’s okay, baby, everyone’s inside.” he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your approval. when you nod, he kisses you again before his demeanor returns to how it was. “now, answer me.”

when you push your hips down into his, seeking friction, he puts a hand on your hip to stop you and raises an eyebrow. your cue to respond.

“y- you did..” you reply, looking down at your hands, planted on his chest.

“yeah.” he pulls you flush to his body, pressing kisses to your jawline. one of his hands leaves its home at your hips and begins gliding up and down your body. “cause i knew you would look so good in it..” his kissed travel downward to your neck, where he gets a little rougher and leaves marks as his teeth nip at your neck. “and look where that’s gotten us.” he gestures down to his lap, where you’ve begun grinding yourself into him.

“please, hyuck..” you whine, pushing yourself into him a little harder.

“go ahead, baby. get yourself off. i’m busy.” he replies before pulling you closer by your hips and attaching himself to your breasts.

a whine immediately escapes your lips at the sensation of his hot tongue against your nipple. one hand leaves your hip to hold the other, pinching and pulling at it as you rut against him. when you look down at him, his glimmering eyes stare back up at you. his tongue glides over your nipple and the surrounding marks he’s leaving, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. the way he stares at you, in an almost innocent manner, has you keening and dragging your hips against him a little rougher.

for the first time since you began, donghyuck finally expressed his pleasure and groaned, sitting up while keeping you in his lap. he pulled your nipple between his teeth, seemingly grounding himself as he began moving his hips in sync with your own.

“fuck, mama.. keep going.” he breathes, before snaking a hand behind your neck to pull your lips to his. the nickname has you throbbing against him, which didn’t go unnoticed when he twitched against you in response.

as soon as your mouth comes into contact with his, your hips start moving with a little more purpose. your boyfriend pushes his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around your own. neither of you are holding your voices back as you rut against each other. with each drag of your hips, donghyuck’s tip rubs against your clit in a way that sends waves and waves of pleasure through your body, stronger than the ocean’s.

with great reluctance you begin pulling away from his kisses, not without biting at his lip and letting it snap against his teeth. “i’m so close…” you whine, slowing your hips down while you wait for his response.

he pulls you forward, bringing you into another wet kiss before pulling away again. “i know baby girl, it’s okay. you can do it, cum in my lap.” he encourages.

as soon as the words come out of his mouth, you start up again. your hips glide against his clothed cock at a speed that has you nearly bouncing on his lap, all in an attempt to chase the high that approaches you slowly.

donghyuck’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you tight to his body as he begins chasing his own orgasm. you feel a little silly getting off like this, almost like a teenager. you’re sure that if someone saw you two right now you’d be compared to animals. however, you don’t pay the thought any mind. the subtle ache against your folds from your bikini bottom and your boyfriend’s coarse swim trunks is enough to make your body flare up in heat and make your thighs tense.

the fear of being heard, or even caught by the others turned into pure adrenaline. you put a hand on hyuck’s shoulder, leaving scratch marks as you rode his bulge, your other hand pulling at his soft brown hair. he moaned softly into your mouth at the feeling. you clenched around nothing, moaning desperately into the air. donghyuck has never been afraid to let you know how he feels, and the way his voice sounds so angelic in moments like these is what brings you to the edge.

“hyuck, i- fuck!“ your back arches, pushing your weight into him as far as possible as your body tenses. your eyes clamp shut and your pulse is all you can hear as your pleasure overcomes you.

donghyuck doesn’t stop, continuing to roll his hips into your clothed cunt until he finally comes, whining into your ear. as you both come down, he runs a hand through your hair to keep you grounded. when you finally come to, you pull away from the crook of his neck to see him smiling at you.

“hi.” he presses a kiss to your lips, followed by one (or ten) to the rest of your face.

you weren’t quite ready to come back to earth yet, so you just respond with a ‘mm’ before kissing him and resting your head on his shoulder once again. he chuckles, idly playing with the ends of your hair before speaking again.

“wanna keep going? or should we go inside?” he asks, leaning back so you both were laying on the towel.

“stay.” you mumble into his neck, tightening the grip your legs have on his waist. he shudders at the sensation.

”oh yeah? is that what you want? you wanna fuck on the beach?” he gently grips your hair, pulling you back to look at him. you moan breathily, nodding in response.

”use your words, mama.” he looks at you expectantly as his hand inches closer to the knot on the bottom of your swimsuit.

“yes, yes, please.. i want you so bad..” you respond, pouting and pushing your chest into him for emphasis.

as always, your body compels him to listen to your requests. his eyes flicker down to your cleavage and in the blink of an eye you’re now under him, completely bare. the sun has gone far enough under the horizon for your eyes to need adjusting before you can see your boyfriend again. once you can finally make out his features, it sends a whole new wave of heat through your body.

donghyuck’s face is perfectly dewy, from the heat and exertion. his brown hair is completely dry but still slightly clumpy from the ocean water. it hangs over your face and creates a nearly perfect cage that tickles your cheeks when he leans down to kiss you. immediately, your hand goes to the back of his head and pushes him closer. you let his tongue enter your mouth without a fight, desperately swirling it with your own in an attempt to get closer to him.

with an obnoxious smacking noise, your boyfriend pulls away from your mouth. he purposely pauses to laugh at the string of saliva connecting the two of you before you swat it away in annoyance. for once he decides against pouting at you and instead sits up to pull his swim trunks down just enough to be able to pull his cock out. his eyes squeeze shut as he pumps it one, two times before trapping your head between his arms once again. he presses a quick kiss to your lips before falling to rest on his elbows, leaning on one to use his now free hand to ease himself into your entrance.

when a whimper left your lips at the stretch donghyuck leaned down and pressed one of many kisses to your lips, followed by two times the amount to your cheek and jaw. with a harsh nip to the sweet spot of your neck, he pulls away.

“are you enjoying this, baby? do you like knowing that someone might come and see us? hear us?” he eggs you on, although he knows that this is a private beach connected to the condo taeyong rented for their off season. if you’re aware of it, you’re certainly too far gone to remember because you immediately get wetter, nodding your head with a moan as he pushes himself the rest of the way in.

“yes, hyuck, fuck- it’s so good..” you whine, already arching your back into him.

he begins picking up his speed now that you’ve adjusted and brings a hand to your cheek, pressing his thumb between your lips to keep you quiet. his other hand holds your hip and helps to pull you back and forth on his cock, wet noises erupting from between you two with each thrust.

donghyuck’s head is thrown back and he bites back a groan. the sight of his eyes pinched shut and his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows his sounds of pleasure has you wrapping your legs tight around his waist and subtly moving your hips to meet his own. he abruptly begins to slow his movements and you’re about to yell at him when you realize he’s looking in the direction of the beach house’s back porch, having a conversation with someone.

you can’t really turn to look at who’s there because the porch is behind you, so you let yourself slip slightly back into your normal consciousness to hear that yuta is yelling out to you both.

he calls out your names, “are you coming in yet? we’re about to eat!” he yells.

you look at your boyfriend and he briefly looks at you to press a finger to his lips before addressing the elder. “we’re relaxing! call us when it’s actually done!” he replies.

unintentionally, you twitch around his dick and his hips stutter before subtly pushing into you once again. you lay your head back down and are about to let yourself return to being blissfully unaware when yuta begins cackling.

”don’t be too long!” he sing-songs, nearly out of breath as he laughs his way back inside the house.

donghyuck looks back at you and huffs, rolling his eyes. “what a turn off.” he mumbles.

your legs tighten their grip on his hips. “you’re about to be even worse of a turn off if you don’t hurry the fuck up.” you whine.

immediately he begins increasing his speed.

“chill, chill… might as well leave you here if you rush me…”

he falls forward on his elbows. his face right above yours as he now rolls his hips deeper, aiming for your most sensitive parts in an attempt to speed up the process. each time he pushes himself back in, you can feel his dick poking at your insides so deliciously that each thrust has a familiar kind of heat flooding through your legs up into your whole body. with one hand leaving a bruising grip on your hip, the other resting next to your head, donghyuck licks a fat stripe up your neck, biting and sucking at the spot that always has you folding for him. your back immediately arches into him at the sensation, a series of pleas falling from your lips.

donghyuck pulls away, fake cooing at you. “aww baby, do you want to cum now?” he rests a hand on your cheek, his hips never stopping as he waits for your answer.

“yes, fuck- please, hyuck, please..” you whine, running your tongue along his thumb appreciatively when he pushes it into your mouth.

“of course, mama. anything you want.” he smiles, dropping his head back down to your neck to press wet kisses to it as he pushes you towards your orgasm.

at this point, you're so close to the edge that all it takes is your boyfriend’s hand slipping its way in between your bodies, rubbing vigorously at your clit to push you over. combined with his rough thrusts, your body tenses, hips shaking as white hot pleasure courses through you. shortly after, donghyuck gets there too, hips stilling as he moans softly in your ear. a whimper escapes your lips as his hot cum spills inside of you. you feel slightly overstimulated, but it’s so worth it.

after a few minutes of sitting in your afterglow, you hear the door above you slide open once again. this time it’s taeyong, calling your name before addressing your boyfriend.

“donghyuck! let’s go, we’re eating now!” he calls out, not wasting any time before going back inside. you flush, knowing that they’re more than likely aware that you weren’t just ‘resting’.

the man on top of you groans, sitting up and pulling out of you. he looks as if he’s half asleep, staring at the spot where his cum seeps out of you with heavy lidded eyes. when you sit up, his trance breaks and he sighs, getting himself together and packing up your towel. next to him you put your swimsuit back on followed by your shorts before folding up donghyuck’s and standing up. he takes your hand, making his way back up to the condo with you in tow.

as soon as you walk in the back door, everyone’s eyes are on you both. once again, yuta begins cackling, nearly choking on his food at the sight. donghyuck pulls your chair out at the table and helps you sit down before going to your room and putting your belongings away. when he comes back and sits with you, johnny is the first to speak up.

“so, uh, hyuck.. i’m assuming you’re not hungry?” he laughs.

you immediately cover your face in embarrassment, however you can’t laugh for long because you hear the word ‘actually’ leave his lips and immediately have to smack a hand over his lips to avoid everyone hearing about yours and his sexual endeavors. regardless, the night is full of laughter and strays away from the subject that they hopefully forgot about. until you do it again.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[osamucide]

WHAT THEIR LOVE FEELS LIKE . . .

. . . ft. BSD men

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA . . . freshly steamed rice, sherpa blankets, the moon in the sky during the day, well-loved dirt paths, comfortable sweatpants, clean kitchens, perfectly made lemonade, finding a dollar in your pocket, gentle cat paws, scratching a lover's back.

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI . . . used books with vigilant annotations in them, jazz music, charm bracelets, quiet and steady streams, lined leather journals, light rain, flickering flourescent light, cracking the spine of a new novel, knowing looks, linking pinkies while walking, caramel drizzle.

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA . . . boozy chocolate-covered cherries, leather car interior, red sangria, gold jewelry, peeled clementines, extinguished matches, the peaceful room next door to a party, counting a lover's freckles, cupping your hands around a flame, divine geometry.

⊹ AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE . . . star anise, black lace, fig jam, perfect puddles of rainwater, vanilla ice cream, soft distant thunder, silver jewelry, blackberry-stained lips and fingertips, tracing sweet words into a lover's palm, the moment of silence and peace when you pass beneath a bridge while it rains.

⊹ RANPO EDOGAWA . . . shortbread cookies, wool socks, poppies, stray eyelashes, strawberry jam, argyle and pastels, candied fruit, chess matches, foil-wrapped chocolates with sweet sayings inside, when a dog at a party likes you best, collections of old keys, shooting stars.

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA . . . peonies, perfectly pulled shots of espresso, letters with broken wax seals, comfortable routines, toffee and brown sugar, freshly ironed clothes, finding something that's been lost, completed to-do lists, cats sleeping atop stacks of books.

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA . . . photo albums hidden in plain sight, flickering candles, the breeze on a cloudy beach, stars on a clear night, perfectly steeped tea, crackling fireplaces, a safety net, clean sheets and pillowcases, crisp mountain air, packing a lover's lunch in the morning.

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA . . . steam from a bath, soft and implacable floral scents, typewriter font, concentric tree circles, fallen bird feathers, uplifting newspaper headlines, children's laughter, protective hugs from behind, stratus clouds like blankets over the sky, dreams that make you want to sleep longer.

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI . . . brown italian leather, vintage cameras, subtle gemstone details, warm french bread, fancy bookmarks, polaroids in your wallet, tying a lover's shoes, laughing at everything when you've drank a bit too much, dried rosemary and blood orange and pomegranate.

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY . . . frost-covered cranberries, string music, coffee table books on classical art, accidental halos of light, perfectly toasted marshmallows, the crunch of fresh snow beneath your boot, coconut and dark chocolate, a stray cat trusting you to pet it.

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL . . . pistachio ice cream, mourning doves on a wire, strands of pearls, opalescence, sitting side by side at a piano, salt water taffy, blowing a perfect bubble with your gum, the television flickering as you sleep, cradling a lover's face, banana pudding trifle.

⊹ SIGMA . . . fresh linen smell, rose gardens, pressed flowers, sleek dress shoes, swan necks in the shape of a heart, satin and silk, bouquets in translucent cellophane, sleeves wide enough to fit someone else's arms in, lace folding fans, white chocolate truffles.

[crdteezv]

Haechan Fic Recs

[majority of these are smut > minors dni (18+)]

**For the key, when I say extreme, I mean fics that will contain darker themes.

S - Smut | F - Fluff | A - Angst | E - Extreme

Disclaimer: *Some of these didn't have a wc so I added it myself! Another thing, some of these fics can be on the darker side so fair warning*

!!!ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE AMAZING WRITERS!!!

A/N: Whenever I add to the list I’ll reblog this post and keep the updated date down below!!

Last Updated: December 6th, 2024

PERSONAL FAVS

pussy fiend | pt.1 (28.2k) & pt.2 (40.7k) - @domjaehyun (F) (S)

→ college au, enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers, roommate au

spur of the mommet | pt.1 (2.1k) & pt.2 (10k) - @haetrack (F) (S) (E)

→ perv/inexperienced! haechan, use of toys

thrid wheel (ft. mark) | pt.1 (7.4k) & pt.2 (13.7k) - @ncteez (S)

→  vacation setting, exhibitionism, voyeurism, car sex, 3some

pro: love: add (11.6k) - @haetrack (S)

→  perv/switch haechan & reader

stoner!hyuck (0.4k) - @calibabii21 (S)

untitled #1 (0.4k) - @neocentral (S) (E) (D)

→ noncon

[8:52] (1.6k) - @from-izzy (F)

→ established relationship au!, marriage!au, non-idol au!

can i? (3.5k) - @yutaholic (S)

→ exes to lovers

friendly competition (ft. mark) (2.2k) - @perfumejamal (S)

→ bf mark, 3some

womaniser (2.1k) - @onyourhyuck (S)

→ bestfriend hockey player!haechan

fix me softly (3.1k) - @onyourhyuck (S) (E)

→ best friend/switch/himbo/perv/ haechan, dub-con

again & again (2.5k) - @ihaechans (F) (S)

→ established relationship, sub haechan, mommy kink

nice guy (2k) - @luvyeni (S) (E)

→ stalking, non consensual photo taking

anything you can do i can do better (4.8k) - @vnti-vntiety-recs (S)

→ enemies to lovers/rivals to lovers

jealous!bf!hyuck! (0.5k) - @ye4gerz (S) New!!

→ choking, exhibitionist hyuck, jealous/angry sex

11:21 AM (0.8k) - @junrenjun (F) New!!

→ husband haechan, suggestive

f/ck ban (1k) - @iceonneo (S) New!!

→ bf haechan

3:46pm (0.6k) - @markresonates (S) New!!

→ bf haechan, humiliation

ghost house (8.3k) - @smileysuh (S) (E) New!!

→ ghost/perv/switch sub lean!hyuck, witch!reader, supernatural au

hoes before bros (ft. mark) (12k) - @beomqu (S) New!!

→ idol! au, cheater! reader, bf! mark, fwb! haechan

caramel (2.8k) - @mejaemin (S) New!!

→ established relationship, beach sex, exhibitionism

9th member (0.4k) - @sugrclip (S) New!!

→ idol au, car sex

under the influence (11.6k) @domjaehyun (S) (E) New!!

→ stoner/perv haechan, shy reader, slight dubcon, corruption

something's missing (2.1k) - @zhongfile (S) (E) New!!

→ ex haechan, blackmailing, dubcon themes

i ❤️ hot nerds (ft.jaemin) (8.7K) - @domjaehyun (S) New!!

→ perv nerd haechan & jaemin, popular reader

ONESHOTS

the perfect victim (2.7k) - @revehae (S) (E)

→ noncon

angel tears (1.8k) - @diorcities (S)

→ possessiveness, mirror/make up sex

my favorite pair (3k) - @goodiegoddesselle (S) (E)

→ perv haechan, roommates, enemies to lovers

touch (1.9k) - @ch3rryc4ndy (S)

→ husband, teacher x student role-play (18+)

play bear (1.4k) - @diorcities (S)

→ established relationship, gamer haechan

impatient (2k) - @ihaechans (S)

→ established relationship, jealous haechan

cool off (4.6k) - @soobrat (F) (S) New!!

→ idol au, public sex(?), switch!ish

free falling (5k) - @sunpopz (S) New!!

→ gamer au, perv!hyuck, sub!hyuck?

forget him (7.1k) @smileysuh (S) New!!

→ friends to lovers, roommates au, recent breakup

DRABBLES

untitled #2 (0.5k) - @sserasin (S) (E)

→ dubcon, infidelity

untitled #3 (0.7k) - @starryhyuck (S)

→ established relationship, public sex??

thigh riding (0.5k) - @babiesdreams (S)

day 14: haechan (0.7k) - @babiesdreams (S)

→ hard dom, edging, degradation

4:15 AM (0.5k) - @taexoxosgf (S) (E)

→ established relationship, somnophilia, dumbification

untitled #4 (0.9k) - @haetrack (S)

→ cockwarming, himbo!haechan

untitled #5 (1.3k) - @starryhyuck (S)

fwb!haechan (1.3k) - @pinkynana (S)

untitled #6 (0.8k) - @toniiswrld (S)

→ roommates, fwb!enemies ?, birthday sex

day 18 - toys (1.3k) - @jaylaxies (S)

→ use of toys, mutual masturbation

untitled #7 (1.3k) - @starryhyuck (S)

→ established relationship, mean dom haechan

untitled #8 (0.5k) - @sserasin (S) (E) New!!

→ dubcon, infidelity, choking

11:32 AM (0.5k) - @jenoismydad (S) New!!

→ thigh riding

sweet release (0.7k) - @hisunflower (S) New!!

→ idol au, oral

untitled #9 (1.2k) - @vanesycho (S) New!!

→ bf haechan, oral, boob play

HEADCANNONS

pervert!haechan (0.3k) - @jaylaxies (S) (E)

→ roommates au

more perv!haechan thoughts (0.6k) - @thetypingpup (S) (E)

pervy!neighbor (0.2k) - @neo-percs (S) (E)

perv!boyfriend (0.3k) - @luvyeni (S) (E)

FAKE TEXTS

ex haechan - @handlemehyuck (F) New!!

[heartofjasmina]

I can never decide with these games 🥴 but I’m missing bakugo a lot lately so let’s go with

👹 for bakugo

Demon!Bakugou who gets summoned accidentally by baby witch!reader. He's at least 7 ft tall, thickly muscled, covered in ancient tattoos, and completely- utterly naked. You didn't know where to look, his dick was girthy and hard already, but his eyes were a beautiful glowing red.

You would have worn more clothes if you knew what the result of your spell would be. But all you get is a grin full of sharp teeth before he's ripping off your tiny shorts, his deep growly voice telling you, "A worthy sacrifice."

"Hey! H-hold it, I'm not a sacrifice-" but he's already grinding his shaft between your folds, and to your embarrassment you get wet fast. He was gorgeous after all, blonde spikey hair falling around two massive horns, and a cocky expression on his handsome face. His brow raised as he took a deep sniff of you.

"You smell like one. Eager and untouched by my kind." His tip leaks pre all over your belly, marking you with a potent scent of smoke and burnt caramel.

"But-" you spluttered, finding it hard to focus when his heavy cock drags against your clit.

"Do object to this form? I can change it if you wish-"

"No!" The word escapes you a bit too desperately and the demon grins again.

"Then you'll be my concubine. And bear my spawn." The blunt head of his cock finally pushes between your folds, teasing your entrance but not giving you what you're starting to crave.

"I never said-"

"Your body says otherwise, human." And then you're being stretched wide in one smooth glide. The sticky mess between your thighs easing the way for him to bottom out inside you, his heavy balls smacking against your ass.

"Do you see how well we fit? You're meant to take my seed." His voice is triumphant and you'd tell him to go fuck himself if you had any breath left in your lungs. You could barely speak as he started to fuck you in earnest, the head of his cock hitting your spot almost too perfectly.

You keened as he finally put his hands on you, groping your tits and playing with your swollen clit as if he couldn't get enough of your reactions. His eyes glowed as he got close. Growls and deep rumbles escaping him as his hands gripped your waist so he could fuck you harder, deeper.

You came with a cry as he filled your womb with his hot cum, your whole body growing warm as the magic of your union was sealed.

"Perfect little sacrifice." He murmured smugly as he petted your head, not making any move to seperate your bodies yet.

He wanted it to take, and your cheeks heated with the realization.

[lightseoul]

im surprised no one asked for this yet but please do no. 17 for the 2k milestone 💌 your works are amazing!!!! 🥰🫂

hello, elle! this ask gets a fast pass because SAME i was just waiting for someone to request this number, so thank you!!! and i just want to quickly thank you as well for all the love you've shown my works, i see and appreciate you sm <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

17. "DID YOU BUY ME FLOWERS?" (1.3k)

ping.

you startle ever so minutely at the chime that just reverberated across your car, briefly interrupting that one song that’s been on repeat for the last few days. as your speakers resume playing the familiar melody, you glance at the phone held in place by your handy mount, and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face when you see the notification.

(6:54 PM) katsuki🧡 : Will be down in a sec.

you kissed him goodbye and called out a ‘take care’ just this morning before he left for work, but it feels like it’s been more than 24 hours since you last saw each other.

maybe you can chalk it up to your own workday being brutal and full of mishaps, but you’re lucky enough to have been able to leave on the dot instead of working overtime like the man who just texted you.

you were set to go on a dinner date, what with today being a friday and there being a new sought-after ramen shop that just opened earlier this week downtown. the plan was to meet back at your shared apartment so that he could drive you both to the restaurant, but a message from him at 4 in the afternoon saying he had to patrol overtime required you to do a little bit of adjusting.

which explains why you’re now parked right in front of the ground riot agency, essentially picking up your boyfriend.

tapping your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, you peer through the window to your right, eyeing the entrance to the building. true to his word, #4 pro-hero dynamight emerges from the glass doors, now wrapped in casual clothes instead of the hero gear he left home in this morning.

you barely make out him scanning the parking lot with that signature scowl on his face, but the angry expression instantly morphs into a look of recognition when he spots your car.

the man starts jogging toward you, and as he gets closer and closer to where you’re stationed, that’s when you notice he’s carrying what suspiciously looks like a bouquet of flowers.

but you don’t even get to react because, in a matter of seconds, he’s already opening the door to the passenger’s seat.

as he slides into the spot beside you, you’re instantly hit with the comforting smell of burnt caramel and that signature perfume of his that never fails to make you just a tad bit light-headed and, quite frankly, dumb.

“hey, babe,” bakugou greets you, before leaning over the console and placing a firm hand on the crook of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss.

despite yourself and the sheer number of times you’ve done this, you still flush when you feel his tongue brush over your lower lip just ever so slightly, which you’ve long identified as his way of asking for permission.

you’ve never been the type to deny him, and so you relent.

you barely stop yourself from groaning when the wet muscle enters your mouth, and for a moment you just sit there—brain empty—as he kisses you fervently, his grip on you unrelenting as ever.

bakugou katsuki doesn’t half-ass things, and that includes kissing you.

eventually, when you think he’s satisfied enough and aptly satiated, he pulls away, and it takes you a moment to ground yourself back to reality. he must’ve noticed, because the cocky son of a bitch only smirks to himself before moving again.

dazed, you watch your boyfriend as he stirs in his seat and grabs the bouquet you completely forgot about from under his feet, thrusting it toward you.

“here.”

your eyes dart back and forth between the bunch of pink tulips and the man, “are you being serious, right now?”

his eyebrows instantly furrow. “what? ‘course i am. picked them up during patrol. knew you’d like ‘em.”

at his mention of the item, your gaze drifts to the thing that’s been sitting in wait in your backseat.

bakugou studies you for a beat, probably wondering what the fuck is going on, before following your line of vision.

you brace yourself for his confusion or maybe even stunned silence in reaction to it.

but neither of those comes.

what does come, is something close to indignation.

“…who the fuck gave you that?”

you feel your face contort in confusion. “what?”

at that, bakugou turns even more toward the backseat, staring down the poor bouquet of orange lilies that absolutely hasn’t done anything wrong to be met with such disdain.

“which dipshit gave you those, hah?” he spews, evidently miffed. “was it that stupid coworker of yours who’s calling himself your fucking work husband?”

“what? no!” you exclaim, because why the hell would he think you’d even accept in the first place?

even with your denial, though, bakugou isn’t looking too pleased, now closely resembling a petulant child.

a cute, jealous, petulant child—

—holding a collection of tulips.

you try to tamp down the grin that’s fighting to take over your features, knowing better than to make him feel embarrassed for getting riled up over the idea of other guys being around you. reaching to the backseat, you take the assortment and quickly fix the areas that inadvertently got folded during the drive over, ultimately handing it to the man.

only the said man looks at you like you just grew horns.

it takes him a second to reply, voice gruff and low when he asks, disbelieving: “did you buy me flowers?”

you really don’t know how else to respond, so you nod. “got them on the way here. they were on display and they reminded me of you.”

at that, bakugou doesn’t say anything, eyes unwaveringly fixed on the bursts of orange.

but he doesn’t move to take them off your hands or something.

you feel your smile faltering just a little. “you don’t like them?”

he looks up at you, like your voice just brought him back from where he was deep in thought. “yeah—no, they’re nice.”

before you get to dwell on what nice means and if he really meant that or was just being courteous, bakugou wordlessly coaxes the flowers from your grip and sets them alongside the ones he got you.

once they’re secure in the tiny space beside him, he then leans over the console again, before planting a lingering kiss on your lips.

one that tells you all the things he can’t bring himself to say—at least at this exact moment.

one that’s definitely saying thank you and i love you.

and maybe, if you read into it close enough, an i love it—give me more in the future.

you eagerly return it before he can pull away.

you don’t think bakugou noticed, but on the silent drive to the restaurant (after you spent ten more minutes in the lot making out), you stole a glance just in time to catch him sniffing the flowers (the ones you got him) and seemingly fighting the upturn of the corners of his lips.

he also brought the bouquets with him to the restaurant, which he absolutely didn’t have to. when you playfully called him out on it, he told you off by saying you can’t just leave flowers in a car for various reasons. you listened to him as he went on and on about why that’s so, but the redness of his ears sort of gave him away.

and when you got home, the first thing he did when he thought you weren’t looking was grab two vases and get to work arranging the tulips and lilies together, placing them side by side at the center of your dining table.

it wouldn’t be until two weeks later, however, that you accidentally bump into his bedside table, causing the book he’s about halfway done reading to fall on the floor.

and when you stoop down to pick it up, you see that he’s on page 280, to be exact.

and marking that halfway point is a dried lily.

[grimmsbride]

SHE ft. SATORU & SUGURU / Reader but check your window.. he’s at your window 𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁˖

on one of your few off days you decided to fill the night with a true blood marathon and shitty snacks. unfortunately for you, a bump in the night suddenly stills all your plans

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS ╲ pre-established relationship | “dub-con” | roleplay | ghostface kink | double penetration | porn with little plot | knife play | degradation kink | slight predator and prey | overuse of pet names | rough sex | manhandling | oral sex | threesome | reader is depicted as black but of course this fic is for everyone

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES ╲ i posted this on wattpad & ao3 & completely forgot to post this here. if you know my old account “selfishdoll” i made a similar fic before that a lot of people loved. this is a rewrite / rework. i was supposed to make a continuation but 🤷🏾‍♀️. also this is a way to ease from mouthwashing back into jjk. don’t worry i’m not done with mw i just would like to get back writing jjk again. as always please excuse any typos & or grammar mistakes <3

"C'mon baby.." You crooned softly, blinking and squinting in an attempt to spot your beloved dog. It was dark outside, the sky painted in a pretty black with specks of white lazily dotted across the canvas. And while your backyard light helped your sight, it did little when your black dog seemed to mix in with the background. Regardless after a still moment the pretty little thing came bundling from the darkness, tail wagging and rushing into your home. You smiled, sliding the glass door closed and flicking the lock— listening for that signature click to assure it was locked.

You turned in time to see the puppy waltz over to his bed, scratching at the perfectly folded blanket for a moment before being satisfied with the bundle he created. You had no idea why you continued to fold the blanket at all. Maybe you enjoyed watching the furry beast mess with it, or maybe you were just a control freak that needed order in every way; even when it came to old, dingy rags that belonged to a canine.

Anyway, tonight wasn't the night to delve into that. You had planned to lay across the couch, watching True Blood while devouring just about every snack in your house.

Whoever created the system known as "Paid Time Off" deserved a huge smooch.

You walked over to your kitchen, opening the fridge and snatching a cold soda and water bottle. Setting them off to the side, you then moved onto a small box of assorted chocolates all ranging from caramel and other delicious nougats. Finished with your cold items you shut the fridge, moving over to your pantry and snatching the door open. Your eyes moved about the cans, noodles, and other dried goods before settling on the little corner dedicated to your chips and cookies.

You came closer, outstretching your arm towards the corner and grabbing the first bag. Dragging it forward, you quickly realize your laziness would be the death of you; given the moment your hand moved the bag brushed against a box of elbow macaroni, knocking it to the ground. The force caused the contents to spill right there infront of you, a loud groan escaping you as you looked at the mess. What's more, your dog rushed from his bed, bounding over in hopes of lapping up the hard food, clearly reacting on greed rather than knowing what it even was.

"Nuh uh— go, back to your bed!" You huffed in an authoritative tone, watching the greedy thing rush back to his bed with a little gruff. You rolled your eyes, placing your chips off to the side and grabbing your broom from the closet beside you. Slowly you began to sweep up your mess, assuring to get every single noodle as not to attract bugs or greedy dogs that act like they haven't been fed in years.

Once swept all into a pile, you kneeled down to hold your dustpan flat— balancing and using your other hand to sweep the trash into it. A minute passed and you were finished, rising to your full height and walking over to the trash bin; emptying the dustpan. With that little hiccup solved you moved on; putting the cleaning supplies away, washing your hands, and grabbing your snacks on the way to the couch.

You walked around the plush furniture, flopping on the makeshift palette of blankets you created. Sinking into the comfort, you reached over for the remote and started the episode; a blissful smile crossing your features. You opened your chips, pressing the bag up against your arm whilst using your other hand to grab one, chomping without a care.

Your eyes focused on the tv screen for a while before they shifted over to a sudden light on your coffee table. Your phone. You reached over, grabbing the device and bringing it closer. There, after using facial ID, you noticed a missed call. The contact?

Unknown.

Your eyebrows drew close, swiping up and clicking your call logs. Pressing the one labeled unknown you watched it ring for a moment, pressing speaker as you were too lazy to bring it to your ear. It rung for what seemed like minutes, your hand slowly going slack from how long you were waiting. And just when you thought of putting your phone down the familiar sound of the call being accepted echoed throughout your living room.

"Hello?" You called softly, bringing the receiver closer to your mouth. When you heard nothing, for the first few seconds you pulled back; wondering if they ended it. But no, the seconds counted by, both phones clearly still on call. So you gave a much louder greeting, hoping for a response.

And, you were given one. You just.. didn't quite enjoy it.

Heavy breathing came from the other line, fanning against the receiver in a rather unnerving rhythm. A prank caller? The possibility ran through your mind as you listened, bringing the phone close to your ear. You sat there, unmoving— attempting to listen harder than what physically possible.

In doing so, you didn't notice your beloved dog hop up from his rest until his barks caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. You spun around, spotting his attention to the glass door separating the outside from your home. Your stomach quickly became a pit of fear, rising from your couch and waltzing over to the kitchen.

Flicking the overhead light on, you soon reached the patio light. As nervous as ever you flicked the light on, anticipating the worst. But, as your eyes scanned what you could see, nothing popped out. Nothing alarming, nothing worth barking over surely.

You sighed, shoulders falling from its previous stiff position, glancing over at your phone. To your surprise the call had ended in the midst of you inspecting the backyard. Curiosity grew slowly, but you decided against acting on it.

Hearing someone breathe in the phone for another ten mins just wasn't as exciting as it seemed.

You turned the light off, turning to your pet that was currently standing behind you, watching the backyard just as intently. You shook your head, leaning down and collecting him into your arms.

"Time to go to bed honey."

You murmured. You walked towards a door connected to your dining room, opening it and placing the dog onto his feet. Like clockwork he was walking over to his crate tucked to the side, curling up in another bed placed within it. You kneeled down, locking the crate's door before standing.

"Night baby." You spoke as if he could understand, turning on your heel and closing the door behind you. Just in time for your phone to go off.

The ringer was loud, an annoying mistake that caused you to quickly press your finger against the sound button, lowering its volume. You brought your phone to your face, contorting your expression the moment you read the contact.

Unknown.

Okay, this is getting annoying.. You thought to yourself, accepting the call as you moved back to your couch. With your annoyance slightly clear you greeted the caller, bottom making contact with the cushions and sinking in.

For moment all was silent, causing your annoyance to deepen. Again, it seemed you have fallen for another prank or scam�� regardless of what it was, it was ruining your True Blood all nighter. You opened your mouth to speak again, only to be rudely interrupted by another's voice.

"Hello."

The voice was gravely, scratchy, and deep.. slightly unnerving as well. You waited for the person to speak again, but was met with nothing. Just.. more heavy breathing.

"Uhm.." You dragged, attempting to remain polite despite your frustration. "—You've called twice already.. is this like a wrong number situation or?.."

For a moment the voice didn't speak, as if fully processing what you said. Then, they muttered in that same voice;

"Oh, really? I'm sorry, I must have called the wrong number."

Your shoulders relaxed, leaning back against your couch. "Hey, it's okay. It happens to me sometimes too." You decided to laugh it off, a little surprised when you heard the stranger do the same. "Well, goodbye—"

"Wait.. we don't have to cut the call so soon."

Your eyebrows twitched, the amusement from before slowly trickling away. "Uhm.. what?"

"C'mon, you don't seem to be busy. How about we chat for a while?"

You looked around, as if searching for an imaginary camera to capture your reaction; which was a look of disbelief that slowly formed into a scowl.

"Er— I am. I'm trying to watch True Blood."

"True Blood? That one southern vampire show?" The stranger questioned, listening out for your little hum of acknowledgement. He chuckled softly, a breathy thing that fanned into your phone. "So, you like scary media?"

Your eyes rolled, "True Blood isn't scary by any means but— yes, I guess I do like most scary things."

"Yeah? What's your favorite?"

"And why on Earth would I tell you?"

You heard rustling on the other side of the line, causing your interest to pique. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but something told you not to. Regardless, you weren't sure he would give much of an answer anyway. You two didn't even know each other's names after all.

"For fun. Don't you like to have fun?"

"With complete strangers? No." You huffed, biting the inside of your cheek the moment the other laughed. As he talked more, you couldn't help but think how attractive his voice was. Perfectly deep, yet playful enough— as if you could practically hear his smile. Your fingers wrapped around the t-shirt you wore, cringing internally.

A voice? Really? Was it that easy to get you going?

"I.. uh, I guess my favorite would have to be Hellraiser."

"Oh wow..I was expecting something like Halloween or IT. You're a bigger horror nerd than I took you for."

For some reason that caused a sense of pride to enter your body, lips curling into a little smile. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"If that's the case, you wouldn't mind a little pop quiz would you? Since you're.. such a huge fan."

Your eyes trailed over to the television, realizing your little sexy vampire marathon just didn't seem as appealing anymore. Your lips pressed together, lying across the couch and humming softly.

"What do I get when I get all of them right?"

"We'll see.." The other hummed automatically, more shuffling being heard from his end. "But of course, wrong answers will be punished."

"But of course." You chuckled, eyes rolling a bit.

"First question, who was the main antagonist in Hellraiser?"

You scoffed, an are you serious? expression crossing your face. "Pinhead. Duh. If it's gonna be this easy, I should get back to my show."

The stranger laughed softly, "Just warming up. Have some patience." The call went silent for a moment, you assuming he was thinking of another question. This gave you the opportunity to scroll through the many horror flicks you've watched, picking out facts and guessing questions he may ask. A moment passed before he interrupted your concentration;

"What 2016 South Korean zombie film takes place on a train?"

Another, easy one. Truly if it continued like this you might just have to hang up. "Train to Busan."

"Right again! That's two in a row."

"I told you I was good."

"Mm.." The stranger hummed, "How about this.. what movie follows a deaf girl in a world infected by creatures that only react to sound?"

"A quiet place! C'mon stranger y—"

"I'm sorry but that's— incorrect!"

You blinked quickly, eyebrows coming close. "You're lying! It is a quiet p—"

"While you are right, the movie I had in mind was The Silence."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that? Who the hell watched that movie anyway?!" You spoke, sucking your teeth. Your annoyance simmered, nearly boiling over as you heard the other cackle over the line.

"What a sore loser. Since it's only one, you won't get a punishment this time."

You huffed, sinking deeper into the cushions and grumbling something intelligible. "Continue."

He chuckled, enjoying your annoyance far too much. "What are the three rules when taking care of a Mogwai in the film, gremlins?"

You hopped up, grinning ear to ear; confident you had this one in the bag. Your hand stretched out, a finger curling to rest into your palm; "Don't feed it after midnight," another lowered, "no bright lights, and—" the third finger staggered, your eyes widening the moment you realized a ridiculously timed brain fart was interrupting.

"Don't uh.." You dragged, hoping the filler word would somehow cause your brain to work. Of course it didn't, causing you to sit there, mouth gaping like an idiot. A cold sweat brushed over you the moment the other started talking again.. realizing what his words were—

A countdown.

"5...4...3.." The stranger stretched the three; voice masked with amusement, enjoying your struggle. You stumbled, searching urgently for the words that just weren't there.

"Don't—"

"Times up!" The stranger interrupted, laughter hinging onto his words. "Two in a row! Losing your spark so quickly?" He taunted you.

You sighed heavily, leaning back over the couch with your eyes pinched closed in annoyance. You really shouldn't be this frustrated, it was just an odd game between strangers— nothing more. It's not like you were getting money for it. Whatever. You tried to convince yourself, eyes blinking open slowly, widening the moment your vision focused.

There in your backyard, you could have sworn, maybe you were just being paranoid— but.. you swore you saw a figure simply standing there; separated by the glass. But as quickly as you saw it, it was gone, as if nothing more than your mind playing tricks.

You swallowed heavily, turning to lay on your stomach and squint. Hard. Somehow trying to make your eyesight better than what it truly was. But as you continued such strain, you didn't see a thing. Nothing. No explanation, at all.

"You still there, little miss horror fanatic?"

His words caused you to jump, nearly forgetting the cold device pressed to your ear. You pulled the phone back, lips pursing together silently, trying to relax your frantic heart. Talking to a stranger and a horror quiz just wasn't the greatest mix, was it? No wonder you were acting so paranoid.

Slowly you turned to face your television, sinking into the cushions.

"I'm here."

"Good, good— we have to figure out your punishment after all."

You rolled your eyes, the fear that was once placated you, disappearing. "And what exactly is my punishment? You hanging up?" You joked, grinning a bit the moment you heard his soft chuckle.

"No, nothing like that. Maybe taking your power will suffice?"

"Wha—"

All at once, every fan, light, and even your television seemed to shut off. You jumped up from the couch, eyes struggling against the darkness of your house as you frantically searched for the remote. You finally found it, slamming your fingers into the power button— but to no avail; it refused to turn on. This caused your anxiety to spike, shallow breaths escaping you.

"Getting scared?"

Without thinking you pulled your phone back from your ear, slamming the end call button. What.. just happened? How did— how did he turn off your power? You desperately searched for an answer, trying to rationalize this madness playing before you.

There was no way he turned off your power purposely.. right? There was just..

You decided to stop thinking, bringing your phone up and pressing the flashlight button. Your hand moved, lighting up your living room— a small act of comfort for your rapidly beating heart. You walked towards the wall, flicking at the switch only to sigh the moment it refused to turn on.

You debated your options. If he had truly been able to shut off your power, how did he do it? Manually? If so, going outside just seemed like the worst choice. Maybe he did it remotely; maybe some kind of phone emp that.. killed everything but your phone?

"That makes.. total sense." You spoke, ridiculing yourself just a little. You leaned against your wall for a moment, the cool structure consoling you. Only, for a moment.

You jumped as your phone rang again, completely shutting off your flashlight, rendering you back to darkness. With a shaky hand you brought the phone close, sucking in a breath as you spotted the name.

You accepted the call, "What did you do?! Why.. why can't I turn on anything?"

Through sputters the other replied, "I did say you would receive a punishment, why are you so surprised?"

"I don't want to play this game anymore, just—" You slowly breathed, trying to calm down. "..please, fix my power."

Your request received silence for a still moment, the only sound being your heart begging to escape your chest. You stood, against that same wall that once comforted you— now doing the exact opposite.

Finally, he spoke.

"If you get this answer correctly, I just might."

You pulled the phone from your ear to release a shaky breath, eyes squinting closed. You had no faith in yourself for answer nor the stranger to not give you a trick question. But, it seemed the only way to get what you wanted was to play by his rules.

"Fine." You muttered, bringing the phone back to your ear.

"Good. So I shouldn't expect whining if you get it wrong and I punish you — right?" The smile was clear in his speech, a potent dare that he was just begging you to accept. And against your better judgment, you did; muttering out a simple yes squeezing the fabric of your clothes between your fingers.

"Excellent! And to make this even more fun, how about a speed round? Ready? Let's go; what is the name of the fictional town in which the events of Halloween take place?"

"Haddonfield."

"Correct!— Which horror movie features a family being terrorized by doppelgängers?—"

"Us!"

"Right again! Two more sweetheart, and you'll get your beloved power back!"

You breathed heavily, tightening the hold on your phone. Calm down.. you can't think when you're so frantic.

"In 'The Grudge' what is the name of the spirit that curses the house?"

"Ka—kayako Saeki—!"

The other laughed heartily, "You are on a roll! Last one, it's for alllllll the marbles.. where am I?"

In that moment it felt like someone was squeezing your throat, rendering you breathless; clawing at an imaginary hand to fight for breath. Your eyes danced around your dark house, chest tight as little tears pricked at your eyes.

"What?.." Your tone was breathy, fear clearly running through your veins.

"You heard me." The way he spoke, all amusement, all laughter ceasing to exist. This.. wasn't a game anymore, was it?

"Where.. am.. I?"

Tears were streaming at this point, head whipping back and forth between your backyard door and the front. You struggled to pick, knowing the wrong answer meant your demise. You couldn't.. you had to guess right, y—you just.. had to!

"The front door! You're on my porch!"

"Go check."

You swallowed heavily, glancing at the door. Slowly, toy pulled yourself off the wall, shaky footsteps leading you forward. You couldn't hear a thing from the other line, making you wonder if he muted himself. Either way, you didn't care; the thought of hearing him at this moment was just too much to bear. You continued your snail like pace, shaky, gasping as you approached the door. A barrier between you and what you assumed was standing behind it, waiting for you.

You panted softly, watching your own hand reach for the knob as if an out of body experience. Expertly, routinely; your fingers flicked the lock, listening to the usual mechanism. Then, your palm enveloped the golden knob, twisting.. carefully.

Twist.. twist.. pull. Slowly, you opened the door, listening to the hinges for a soft moment before deciding to rip the bandage off— swinging it open the rest of the way, nearly hitting the wall behind if it wasn't for your hand.

And just like that.. all color drained from your face, as you glanced at your porch, your doorstep.

Your completely, empty, doorstep.

Laughter suddenly echoed from your phone, your blood running cold. You sputtered,

"Please! Please just give me another ch—"

Your speech was interrupted as heavy footsteps bounded from your stairs. You whipped around in time to spot a large figure cloaked in black, face covered rushing towards you. You screeched, scrambling to make it out of the door, only for his arms to suddenly wrap around your waist, stilling your movement.

"You lost.." The tone in your ear was sing-songy, arms tightening the more you struggled. You felt the plastic of his mask dig into your neck as he leaned into, fingers digging into your flesh almost perversely. "Poor, poor [Name]."

Before you could whine out, you were met with the sound of your power being restored. You gaped like a fish, confused completely. If he was here now, how the hell did it turn back on?

An answer quickly presented itself. One, you didn't quite like.

Footsteps carried from your porch, and through glossy eyes you spotted another figure approaching your home. The one holding you backed up a bit, carrying you with him— and allowing his partner-in-crime to enter your home. Once he did so, he shut the door behind him, locking it and snickering softly.

"I was gonna lose anyway.. wasn't I?"

"So smart.." The stranger, the mask you immediately recognized as Ghostface mumbled, approaching you. You whimpered the moment his fingers went for your face, caressing it slowly as his other hand reached for his mask, slowly lifting it halfway to reveal his simmering smirk.

Ghostface leaned close, lips pressing against the side of your eye, removing the tears. "I think we scared her too much.. Look at those tears."

The Ghostface behind you chuckled, pressing himself closer to effectively squish you between the two of them.

"I don't think so. She enjoyed this more than she let on, obviously." A hand released your waist to grasp your cheek, turning your face just a tad. "You got turned on by this.. didn't you? The thought of losing, the thought of us coming in here— claiming our reward and dealing out your punishment?"

You whined, unable to speak from their touches and the pressure. They took your lack of words as an answer, the Ghostface infront of you chuckling as his lips treaded down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just to feel you shudder. While the other slowly backed the three of you to your couch.

Soon enough your bottom hit the plush cushions, unable to fully register what was happening as your lips were suddenly taken in a full kiss. You couldn't keep up at this point, feeling hands reach for your clothes; top gone, bottoms next. The cool air brushed against your skin, quickly warmed by their touch. You felt a hand ghost down the curve of your plush stomach, pushing past the elastic of your panties— gloved fingers brushing against your warm cunt.

"Soaking my fucking glove.." One spoke, clearly not the one kissing you as his lips continued to bite marks along your skin, sinking in deeply when you attempted to close your legs. "Don't be so shy.. let me in, sweetheart."

His words were soft, nearly comforting as you felt fingers spread you, another coming to circle your swollen bud. You finally pulled away from the kiss, a whisper of a moan escaping your swollen lips. You squirmed, not fighting, but unable to control yourself due to the pleasure.

The Ghostface that had just kissed you chuckled, leaning close to press his lips against the side of your face. "Feels that good.. huh?" His hand dragged your body, reaching your thighs, a soft huff escaping the moment he realized you still had your panties on.

"You're so lazy." His words were directed to his partner, tone ranging between annoyed and amused.

The other chuckled, continuing his the slow circles upon your clit, "You want them off so bad, do it yourself." And with that he devoured your mouth in a sweet kiss, tongue intruding your lips to spread along your wet caravan, reclaiming the space.

Ghostface 1 tutted softly, hand moving away from your body to instead sift through his pocket. Your eyes slowly opened, watching as he revealed a pocket knife, flipping it open in on swift motion. You whined softly as you felt the sharp tip drag across your skin, the cold silver causing you to shiver far too harshly..

"Relax.. I would hate to knick you." He spoke, though doing one more playful drag before reaching your hip, carefully catching your panty onto the sharp edge before flicking it up— ruining them. You would have complained if it wasn't for the mouth occupying you at the moment.

Ghostface 1 tossed away the knife onto your coffee table, grabbing the ruined garments and tearing it off the rest of the way. With that, his companion used his free hand to grace the inside of your thigh, pushing it open whilst the other did the same; exposing your wet cunt.

With more access, another hand reached low, gathering your dripping essence, smoothing it between his gloved fingers. And with a single push two fingers were inserting you, reaching deep and spreading against your gummy walls.

Again you pulled away from a kiss, moaning— pitch piquing as those damned digits curled. Ghostface 2 chuckled, continuing the ministrations on your pretty bud while his lips carried down your form.

"So fucking wet.. you like this? All this attention?"

Little tears of pleasure threatened to tread down your face as your legs shook, reaching over to squeeze one of their arms— which of course, was more than welcomed. You felt a free hand knead your breast, thumb flicking and pressing into your nipple gently.

"Hey, he asked a question— or are you too fucked out already?" The first Ghostface chuckled, quickening the pace of his fingers, the squelches of your pretty pussy echoing through the room. He leaned close, nipping at your skin, scissoring you and spreading you open.

"Ye—yes!" You were finally able to muster, a band forming and wounding in your stomach as they continued. Your response was enough for them, laughter carrying between them, one even softly mocking your declaration.

"Such a fucking slut, all excited over two Ghostfaces using you up."

"Ruining you for just about anyone else.."

Your head rolled back against the couch, as blissfull sounds escaped, eyes pinched close from the pleasure. Your thighs tightened with each pass of one's finger upon your clit, and the other's thrust of their fingers. They were right, you were ruined— completely. And they had just begun to play with you.

You whimpered and whined, fingers digging into their covered arms, crying out as a hot tongue spread along your areola, dragging the swollen bud into his mouth. You were close, so, so close. That end heading towards you rapidly, stomach tightening into knots as pure gibberish fell from your pretty lips.

And all too quickly you were coming undone, moaning so loudly you were sure the neighbors could hear. For a moment your vision was blurred, the only feeling being their fingers helping your ride out your high.

"What a mess, your poor couch."

"Here, be good and clean me up." Soaked, gloved fingers were dragging across your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open gently. With little issue your lips parted, allowing his digits to press against your tongue. You dragged your appendage across him, tasting your own arousal and bitter leather. You continued your show, gagging slightly the moment he pushed his fingers just a bit farther.

"Look at that.." Ghostface 2 mumbled, far too excited as his piercing gaze resting on you. Suddenly he was standing up, walking around your couch to stand behind you. Ghostface 1 seemed to catch onto his plan, given he was removing his fingers before grasping you a bit roughly, switching you onto your knees.

Your hands held the hard frame of your couch, breathing softly as a gentle hand grasped your chin. Your eyes carried up to the long figure infront of you, warming as his thumb wiped away the combined mess on your lips.

"Pretty girl.." He cooed, leaning down to your height to plant his lips to your own. Your eyes fluttered shut, moaning into the kiss as you felt the other behind you spread your legs wide, hand brushing across your back to make the perfect arch.

In unison you heard fabric moving before two pairs of belts were being fiddled with. This caused your heart to skip a beat, anticipation and want shuddering throughout you.

Soon enough you were being released from the kiss, eyes landing upon the one before you, watching as he tugged down his bottoms. Short tufts of fluffy white hairs lined his belly and his groin, carefully groomed. He was long, length a pretty pale, veins running along his shaft with a hot red tip.

"No way.. don't tell me you got this excited just from seeing his dick." Ghostface 1 chuckled behind you, dragging his knuckles across your snatch for a moment before gently slapping your messy cunt, the soft plap echoing throughout the room.

You gasped out, lunging forward just a bit from the sudden action. He didn't let you move much though, fingers dipping into your sides and pulling you against him, feeling his own heavy length gliding across you.

Your attention was once against moved as a hand grabbed your chin, thumb pressing against your lips and parting them. You moaned the moment his tip pressed against you, feeling his pre-cum smear across the brim. And slowly, he fed you each inch of his cock, his own groan causing you to shudder.

And what's more, just when you thought you could relax, you felt the other's tip glide across your slit before slowly pushing in, spreading you so perfectly.

As if made for them.

Ghostface 2 started first, pulling his hips back slowly before pushing them forward, filling your mouth easily. Your cheeks hallowed, jaw going slack as his slow pace started. His breath was heavy against the mask, hand rising to your hair and curling his fingers through it while his other hand gently caressed your face.

Ghostface 1 was next, hands digging to your hips as his own hips pulled back until only his tip remained inside of you. With little care he thrusted all the way back in, stifling a laugh as a surprised moan escaped you.

"Sorry, should I have warned you?" He questioned, refusing to give you even a moment to reply before his thrusts picked up, driving his cock into you with no mercy. With each push your breasts were pressing against the couch, the soft fabric stimulating you even more.

A struggled gasp escaped you as a tug came at your hair, fingers grabbing your cheeks rather roughly as the Ghostface infront of you picked up his own pace— reacting out of pure jealousy.

"Don't give him so much attention, sweetheart. Just focus on me." Ghostface 2 chuckled, speech stuttering as he continued. Your mouth felt far too good, sucking him so gently as your tongue dragged along his length. The man's head tilted back, muttering swears trying to keep control as he fucked your pretty face.

Meanwhile Ghostface 1 chuckled, leaning over your form to press his lips right against your ear. "Yet who's the one making you feel so good?" He spoke, slamming his hips, your ass rippling with each hit. You melted, so palpable as a string moans escaped you, smothered by the warm length occupying your mouth. You could barely focus, barely breath— relying only on feeling.

Your mouth being stuffed. Your cunt as well. The way you shook with their rhythmic thrusts, nearly toppling over if it wasn't for one's strong hold. How your arousal and much more trickled down your thighs, definitely dirtying your couch even further.

All of it.. so overwhelming yet, so, so good. You didn't need to think, breathe, nothing. Just kneeling there was enough, allowing the pleasure to consume you.

Tears trailed down chubby cheeks, wiped away by your second lover's tender thumb, gentle compared to how roughly he was using your mouth. Words of praise and encouragement fell from their lips, falling on deaf ears as you felt yourself grow more lost.

Far too quickly you felt your peak approaching, withering as the two pumped in and out of you without a care. You squeezed the couch underneath you, garbled moans escaped you as you spasmed; releasing all over your lover.

"Squeezing me so damn tightly.." The man behind you muttered, the sound of shuffling and something hitting the coffee table being heard. Once again a warm body was covering you, except the familar feeling of silky long hair tickled your exposed skin.

"Felt that good, huh? Can't believe you convinced us to do this— [Name]." Suguru chuckled right into your ear, head going slack as his ruts inside you continued you.

You would be embarrassed, mouth loose with excuses if it wasn't already full. Your eyes settled upon your other lover, moaning against his dick— tongue nice and flat the moment his hips stuttered.

And with a sharp groan he was painting your mouth, pulling you close to assure you didn't waste a single drop.

Suguru was last to let go, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave marks. In one last thrust he was filling you up, shivering as he felt your walls tightened from the motion.

Satoru's hand rose, feeling at the mask for a moment before tugging it off; tossing it to the side to reveal his pretty face. His grin was far too apparent, pulling his hips back the moment he was satisfied. He watched carefully as you swallowed his mess, leaning down to kiss at your face and remark how good you were.

"You have fun?"

"Just a little." You spoke softly, ignoring the soft ache of your voice. You shivered as your dark-haired lover unsheathed himself within you, feeling him switch around to sit on the couch.

Soon enough his hands were reaching for you, pulling you to sit on his lap whilst his face rested in your neck.

"More than a little, you were practically screaming with glee when I grabbed you."

"Oh shut it.."

[rose24207]

Beta Squad Bake-Off ft. Lando Norris

Summary: Lando joins the Beta Squad's chaotic baking challenge, where his undeniable chemistry with Y/N leaves everyone questioning who’s simping for whom.

Genre: Humor, fluff

TW: filly (?)

A/N: here’s part 2! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy is though! Requests are open and welcome!

P1

Masterlist

The Beta Squad kitchen was alive with its usual chaos, the air thick with flour, anticipation, and the distinct smell of impending disaster. The guys were already hyped, buzzing about today’s guest. But for you, today was different. Today was everything.

Lando Norris—Formula 1 star, recent Beta Squad collab, and your not-so-secret crush—was back. And this time, he’d been paired with you for a baking challenge. The same Lando who’d slid into your DMs after your shameless video antics. The same Lando you’d been texting ever since. The same Lando who made your stomach flip every time he popped into your notifications.

You’d convinced yourself it was purely platonic. You had to. But deep down, you knew better.

“Alright, people!” Chunkz clapped his hands as the cameras started rolling. “Today’s challenge is simple: bake a cake. But since this is us, expect flour fights, questionable skills, and maybe a burnt kitchen.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sharky said, adjusting his apron. “I’m going for Gordon Ramsay levels today.”

“Mate, you can’t even boil water without setting off the fire alarm,” AJ shot back.

You were trying to focus, but when Lando walked into the room, all coherent thought left your brain.

Dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie, his hair slightly tousled, he looked effortlessly cool. He greeted everyone with that signature grin, but when his eyes landed on you, his smile widened.

“Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “Ready to redeem yourself after that McLaren trivia fail?”

You felt your cheeks heat instantly. “Listen, Norris,” you shot back, trying to sound confident, “I’m not just good at baking—I’m amazing at it. You’re lucky you’re on my team.”

“Oh, am I?” he teased, leaning against the counter.

The guys immediately picked up on the energy.

“Oi, this is suspicious,” Kenny said, narrowing his eyes at you two. “Why does it feel like they’ve been texting?”

“We have not!” you said quickly, too quickly.

Chunkz raised an eyebrow. “That was defensive.”

“Focus on your own cake, Chunkz,” you muttered, trying to ignore the laughter.

The challenge began, and you took charge immediately.

“Okay, we’re doing a chocolate cake with salted caramel frosting,” you announced, pulling out ingredients. “Lando, start melting the chocolate.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting you with a cheeky grin.

As you worked, the chemistry between you and Lando became impossible to ignore. He followed your instructions diligently, but not without slipping in the occasional flirtatious comment.

“You’re surprisingly good at this,” you said, watching as he carefully measured out sugar.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

Across the room, the guys were losing their minds.

“Why is it so... flirty over there?” Niko called out, pointing a whisk at you two.

“Because Y/N can’t control herself,” Sharky said, grinning.

“Excuse me?” you shot back, turning to face them. “I am nothing but professional.”

“Professional simp,” AJ muttered, earning a round of laughter.

Lando smirked, leaning closer to you. “Is this what it’s always like with them?”

“Always,” you said, shaking your head. “But don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

“Good,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Because I’m not planning on going easy on you, either.”

You froze for a second, his words sending a jolt of electricity through you.

As the baking continued, the banter escalated.

“Lando, do you know how many times Y/N’s mentioned you in our videos?” Filly asked loudly, his voice full of mischief.

“Filly,” you warned, glaring at him.

“Oh, I need to hear this,” Lando said, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. “How many times, Y/N?”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said quickly.

“It’s gotta be at least 20,” Sharky chimed in.

“More like 50,” AJ added.

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You’re all the worst.”

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m flattered, really. But now the pressure’s on—I can’t let you down.”

“You’d better not,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

When it came time to decorate, the chaos reached its peak.

“Why does this look like a murder scene?” Kenny asked, gesturing to Sharky and Niko’s station, where frosting was smeared everywhere.

“Because they don’t know what they’re doing,” you said smugly, putting the finishing touches on your cake.

Your cake was, admittedly, a masterpiece: a perfectly frosted chocolate layer cake drizzled with caramel and topped with edible gold flakes.

“This is... unfair,” Chunkz said, staring at your creation. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Because Y/N’s secretly a professional,” Lando said, stepping back to admire the cake. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “And because I’m great at following instructions.”

“You’re great at everything, aren’t you?” you said without thinking, immediately realizing how it sounded.

The room went silent for a beat before Filly burst out laughing.

“She’s not even hiding it anymore!” he shouted.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as the guys erupted into chaos.

When the video finally wrapped, the crew began cleaning up, and the squad fell into their usual post-filming banter. You were wiping down the counter when Lando walked up beside you, holding a slice of your cake.

“Want a bite?” he asked, offering you the fork.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Not bad,” you said, grinning. “Maybe you’re not completely useless in the kitchen.”

“High praise,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.

For a moment, the chaos around you faded, and it was just the two of you.

“You’re good at this,” he said softly, gesturing around the kitchen.

“Baking?” you asked, confused.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This. Making people laugh. Bringing everyone together.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Thanks,” you said quietly.

He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m glad I came today.”

“Me too,” you said, trying not to sound too eager.

Before the moment could get too heavy, Filly’s voice rang out. “Oi, Norris! Stop flirting and help us clean up!”

Lando laughed, stepping back. “Duty calls,” he said, winking at you before walking away.

As you watched him go, you couldn’t help but smile. Because for once, it felt like maybe, just maybe, your shameless simping was leading somewhere real.

Thank you for reading!

For: @ejamo

[forlix]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[wwr-afterdark]

[ofruinations]

"I mean. Happy is good, usually." He feels like he steps into something deep, like a misstep into a riptide, dragging him under into the depths. Drowning. That experience doesn't really compare to anything. Hopefully she wouldn't drown Derek, though that last church of hers was real close to doing some weirder shit that he'd have preferred to drowning. "Why? Aren't you happy? I think music might, you know, fix that."

"Not a church..." Mercy agrees, a far off look in her gaze as she drags it to Derek. Taking a breath, she brings a smile up. It tilts her mouth upwards, but doesn't reach her eyes. "Everyone seems very happy. That's good? Isn't it?" She is really asking him. As someone who left. Who saw her Church and was not swayed by its love. Is this better? Living in defiance of God's will?

[zombiangel]

❝𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙋𝘼𝙔 𝘼𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙊 𝙈𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝙔𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀❞ 〰 BOKUTO

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ hq x fem!reader. ft: bokuto koutarou

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗you jokingly say that he never pays attention to you anymore, now he's worried!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ warnings: none except for tiniest bit of angst! but lots of fluff

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 935 words, avg read time: 3 mins

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ a/n: this is my first time writing, and i never write for pleasure, or stories like these! so it might be really bad lol- but always give me constructive critisism about anything and dms/requests are always opened!! ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

────୨ৎ────

"bokuuuu~" you say, leaving the bedroom door to find your boyfriend sprawled on the couch, looking up and smiling at you before holding up his finger to signal for you to wait, the phone pressed against his ear with one of his streaked hands.

"movie night?" you silently worded with your lips, gesturing over to your bedroom before he gave a dismissive nod and thumbs up, focusing back onto the phone call. 

with a heavy sigh, you left to the kitchen, preparing what you two would always eat for the nights you'd lay on your shared bed, cuddled up next to each other while watching a move. that caramel popcorn that head playfully fed you, throwing it into the air as you two giggled at the missed shots and cheered together at the ones that made it. 

bokuto would always love nights like these and always preferred them, inside with you, over going out. he didn't have to share you while conversing with other people if it was some get-together or forced not to touch you everywhere you went.

Inside, you could cuddle, talk between just the two of you, scratch your hair, anything.

-

"this is so fricking delish," you said, stuffing your face with more popcorn as the bright tv screen hit your face, your hair tangling as the back of your head lay on his chest, sitting up on the bed. his arms envelopped you soothingly, meeting at your shoulders while you comfortably relaxed on his much bigger frame.

"hey, leave some for me-" a raspier whine escaped bokuto's lips, moving the thick arm that wrapped around you to reach for the bowl on your hips, before you felt his nose reach the top of your head and snuggle against it. he inhaled through his nose, letting the pleasant smell of your shampoo seep in as he couldn't help but let the tug on the end of his lips raise.

"nuh, uh! i made these all by myself while you were too busy on your pho-!" and almost as if on cue, his phone went off. both heads turned at the same time to the brightening screen, revealing a cute picture of him feeding you while watching your favorite show together, almost in the same scenario as of right now. underneath it was a message from someone that you honestly couldn't care less about, and he picked it up quickly.

"sorry, love, this might be important.." he subtly added, his once brighter expression muted as he brought the device closer to him. you let out a dishearted sigh, maybe exaggerating it a little too much to add on to your sarcastic comment. "it's like you never pay attention to me anymore.."

even the low mumble of your voice led him to shoot up, instantly tightening his grip around you, as if instinctual, and his voice was barely over a whisper. "what?" he moved his head around to try to meet your eyes, now basically "ear to ear" with him.

seeing the defeated look on his face, you realized he didn't see through your sarcastic comment, and trying to put your best poker face on, you tried to drag on the joke. it wouldn't harm anyone, just trying to see how long he'd last.

"yeah, you know, you're always so busy and all. just like right now, you know... your phone and all... you just never pay attention to me anymore." you lowered your head, some stray hairs falling down in trial to cover your face from the smile you were fighting, biting down on your lip.

if anything, bokuto pays way too much attention to you. you believed he'd just realize this was a joke; he was a clingy boy after all. whenever you'd leave, he'd insist on a hug, even in a rush. it would then lead to a kiss, and you perhaps being 15 minutes late with a few disheveled hairs. clingy bokuto was probably your favorite thing ever though. always wanting to be near you and never leaving your side for anything. so it'd be easy enough for him to see through your tiny prank.

"babe, are you serious? i-.."  bokuto lowered his head, his hair slightly drooping at the ends, and when you looked up, a small glint of sadness in his eyes shined through. fuck, he's actually serious.

"wait, listen, boku-" you tried to stop the joke right there, fully lifting your face before his hands met your waist, grasping you harshly as he flipped you with a hold so tight, as if you'd weighed nothing. when switching over to fully face him, he looked up at you, your legs wrapped around him, straddling his big "man" frame as he gave you a "little boy" pout.

"i-i'm so sorry, y/n... seriously. i never thought i'd be distant from you and all." bokuto's gaze never left yours.

a small pang hit your chest hard. "no, wait, boku-" you finally bring yourself closer to him, leaning closer to his face. "listen, i was just joking, mkay? you're perfectly fine; you pay enough attention to me!" you added, caressing his soft cheeks with your hands and cupping his jaw. 

"huh?" his eyes slightly widened, his head tilting to the side a little in confusion, causing you to giggle a little.

"Don't pull anything like that again, th-then.." he looked flustered, looking away from you now, half the sadness wiping off his face to your relief.

"soorrryyy~ i didn't think you'd take it so seriously!" you let out a soft chuckle at his tightening grasp on your waist.

"yup, you're repaying me for that little scare."

────୨ৎ────

a/n: srry if this is bad guys! anyway, yeah id totally see bokuto 100% blaming himself, even if he is like SUPER attached and wtv

wait now i feel bad cmere

[jesterlyboots]

Behold!! It’s almost Halloween, so I drew one of the fellas from welcome home that I rarely ever draw,, which is a shame because he’s so funky

Ft the . Very normal Barnaby caramel apple

(I wish I actually liked caramel apples but the textures are..….)

Next up is probably howdy… hmhmhm

[natokkiz]

hiii i love love loved ur mark oneshot 🤭🤭 if ur requests are open could you perhaps do a jeno or jaemin (or really any dreamie im not picky) x reader where they are just. so horrendously down bad for the cute girl who works at a coffee shop near them 😁😁😁 honestly idgaf if it’s Anything like that i just crave he fell first And harder fics

baby baby 그대는 caramel macchiato !

— lee jeno smau oneshot ☕️

in which, jeno can't decide whether he should follow his heart or his pending assignments (he's decided and it's not the assignments)

⭒ pairing: college student!jeno x barista fem!reader (ft. jaemin and renjun) ⭒ genre: fluff, smau ⭒ a/n: tysm for the request and for the feedback on my last work! i hope you like this hehe :)

[bonadella]

some caramels (ft dark cacao)