#he is ACUTE cat

[californiaquail]

yesterday my boss sent home a cat who was non weight bearing on a leg (which he recently declawed because the toes were broken*) after diagnosing it with severe bone degeneration in the elbow with absolutely no pain management and ummm feels bad man

[callsign-bubbles]

being an autistic sports fan sucks so much

[schrodingersvibecheck]

sorry no i can’t come into work today yeah didn’t sleep at all again. yeah no i was kissing my darling evil baby cat over and over again on her stupid little head right between her tiny triangle ears. very important business

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[vettelsvee]

YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE | Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x Pregnant Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Seb's wife is pregnant, but she hasn't told him yet since she doesn't seem ready. However, after he almost crashed pretty badly during a Free Practice session, she can't help but tell him in not the best way possible ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Okay but can you imagine Sebs wife being pregnant but she has not told him yet. He does some dangerous and bold move on a drive and she gets mad and scared and just some fluff when he finds out :)

WORD COUNT: 1804

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of anxiety, overthinking about Formula 1 crashes (?), pregnancy, Ferrari Seb in general (if you know, you know)

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @herdetectivetheorist @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Hi guys! Finally back to posting fics! This year I don't only want to write more, but also establish some kind of writing routine because I've been dealing with anxiety over Christmas for some personal problems family related and found out that I missed distressing with writing. Also, thank you so much for all the support you've been showing me lately! Appreciate it a lot since I wasn't feeling very comfortable with my writing. Let me know your thoughts on this one <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Despite being quite far from the pit lane, you could hear nothing but the deafening roar of the engines, the clatter of tools on Kimi's car, and the curses of the race engineers at the constant stunts Seb had decided to pull during the free practice session.  

Your husband's red car seemed not just to race but to fly around the track. FP2 had started barely twenty minutes ago, but Seb had already come within inches of crashing into the walls far too many times after going off track more often than you could count.  

You couldn't deny that you had loved watching Seb race ever since you met and you learned he was a driver in one of the most dangerous sports in the world. Today, however, luck was not on your side, and anxiety was consuming you. The nausea, uncontrollable on its own, felt even worse than usual. Not to mention, you felt on the verge of a panic attack.  

"Are you okay?"  

You turned at the sound of Riccardo Adami’s voice, Seb’s race engineer. The Italian removed one side of his headset and covered the microphone to ensure the driver wouldn’t hear anything.  

"Yes, yes, of course," you replied hastily, forcing a smile and suppressing the urge to gag as you felt it rising in your throat. "I’m just a bit more nervous than usual today, that’s all."  

"Seb knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry about that."  

You nodded, but as soon as Adami turned his attention back to his screen, you rolled your eyes and did the same.  

"You know, sometimes he thinks that he’s a cat and has seven lives," you muttered under your breath. "Someone should remind him he’s in an actual Formula 1 car, not in a simulator."  

"Don’t worry, I’ll remind him in the post-session briefing," the engineer joked, flashing a smile before immersing himself back into Vettel's driving.  

You didn’t pay him much attention. Once again, you were entirely engrossed in both your husband’s onboard camera and the telemetry, even though you didn’t understand much aside from the fact that he was setting purple sectors, which was undoubtedly a good sign.  

You didn’t know much about the inner workings of the cars, but after so many years with Seb, you knew that the faster his times were, the higher the risks became.  

You were also acutely aware that your husband was pushing himself too hard in those moments.  

You began to tremble slightly, fidgeting with your hands in an attempt to calm your anxiety, but it didn’t work. Instinctively, and trying not to draw much attention, you placed your hands on your belly and prayed that your child wouldn’t give you any scares like his father was giving you.  

"Sector two in purple as well, Seb!"  

Even though the garage erupted into cheers and applause, you remained motionless. Instead, you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, which now showed your husband’s car in full view.  

Your panic peaked the moment Seb lost control of the rear of his car and went off the track. You swore that if it hadn’t been for the sudden braking, he would have ended up in the barriers with a wrecked car and himself heading to the medical center because the crash would have likely exceeded the G-force limits.  

When Seb didn’t respond immediately, your heart stopped.  

"I’m fine, I’m fine..." Seb finally said in a disappointed tone. "But I can’t say the same for the car. I think it’s more damaged than it looks."  

"Can you bring it back, Sebastian?" Riccardo asked in a tone that was a mix of irritation and disappointment.  

"Yeah, no problem. Coming back. Sorry, guys."  

Just as no one on the team said anything to you, you, who had forced yourself to sit down because your legs were trembling too much and you felt dizzy, also remained silent until your husband returned and got out of the car.  

Seb removed his helmet, revealing an expression that was hard to decipher. You stood up carefully and approached him, trying to keep your composure. Without giving him a chance to say anything, you grabbed his hand and led him toward his driver room, ignoring Britta's protests to talk after interviews were done.  

"It could have been worse, right?" 

Sebastian closed the door behind him and turned to face you. You stood there with your arms crossed, visibly upset. Your glare alone was enough to tell Seb he was seconds away from one of your infamous scoldings.  

The problem? He had no idea why. You had never acted so strangely over something as common as a collision during a race weekend.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you exploded, your voice filled with frustration. “Fuck, Seb, can you explain what that was all about?!”  

“What do you mean, what was that? I was... racing, like I always do, babe,” he replied cautiously, still clueless about what he'd done wrong.  

You, however, didn’t know what was bothering you more: your husband’s calm demeanor or the sight of a few Ferrari team members peeking through the window to catch the drama unfolding between the two of you.  

“You were so close to slamming into a wall, Sebastian, that’s what happened!” you shot back, yanking the curtains shut and flipping off the nosy onlookers. “Are you out of your mind or what?!”  

“Come on, love, I had it under control. What you saw on the onboard might’ve looked bad, but I swear it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed.”  

“Not as bad as it seemed? Are you seriously telling me that?” you retorted, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think driving is just like playing a video game now? Do you have any idea what it would’ve meant if you hadn’t reacted in time? Do you know what it would’ve meant for me and for—”  

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, refusing to continue.  

You knew your emotions were running wild because of your pregnancy hormones, but you forced yourself to calm down. Getting so worked up would only lead to a pointless argument with Seb and wasn’t good for you or the baby.  

“For who, Y/N?” Seb asked, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his.  

“For... me! Who else?” you replied quickly. 

Sebastian didn’t know how to respond. He’d never seen you so distressed about his racing, and while he tried to stay calm, inside he was battling a storm of worry and confusion.  

“This stress isn’t good for me or for the situation you and, well... you’ve gotten me into,” you said, your voice cracking.  

“Y/N, babe, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about. Fuck, I’m pretty worried about you right now with all this shit, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on—”  

“Damn it, Seb! I’m pregnant!”  

You looked down, tears streaming down your face. You clenched your fists tightly, furious at yourself for revealing such big news in such an emotional, unplanned way.  

Sebastian, meanwhile, stood frozen, his eyes wide in shock at the unexpected news. Slowly, everything started to make sense: your morning sickness, falling asleep all the time, constantly complaining about being tired, and the flimsy excuses you gave for not drinking wine, something you normally loved.  

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner and for believing your weak justifications about bad leftovers being the cause of everything.  

“You’re... pregnant?” His voice was barely audible, almost afraid to say the words out loud because they didn’t feel real.  

You wiped your tears and sniffled, doing your best to meet your husband’s gaze without feeling ashamed.  

“Yes...” you said timidly. “I wanted to tell you in a special way... you know, by giving you a baby onesie in a box with the positive pregnancy test inside, but...” You shook your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “I thought you were going to die out there today and leave your child and me alone. The thought of losing you, now of all times, just...”  

“You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”  

You nodded, and Seb couldn’t hold back his tears. He pulled you into a tight embrace and began kissing you tenderly. You melted into his arms, feeling an immense weight lifted from your shoulders.  

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted. “I swear I wanted it to be special, but seeing you out there today, thinking something could happen to you...” Your voice broke again. “I was terrified, Seb, like never before watching you race.”  

“I’m so sorry, love. I really am,” he said sincerely, cupping your cheeks gently and kissing you over and over. “If I’d known, I would’ve been more careful. God, love, this is incredible... This is the best news I’ve ever received.”  

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner? You should’ve seen your face earlier...”  

“Mad? That you didn’t tell me sooner?” You shrugged, your insecurity showing despite your years together. Seb tilted his head, understanding this was one of your rare but extreme moments of doubt. “I’m just... in shock. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents...”  

Sebastian hesitantly touched your stomach, and you burst into fresh tears at the tenderness of his gesture.  

“Now you have to promise me something, Seb,” you said, playing with his hair as he knelt before you, leaving kisses on your belly.  

“Anything for you and our little one.”  

“You need to be more careful from now on. Stop thinking so much with your adrenaline and testosterone, and start using your brain more,” you said, trying not to sound too harsh. “I know Formula 1 and racing is your whole life, but I don’t want you risking it when we’re bringing a new one into the world. I’m eight weeks along, and we still have 32 to go assuming everything follows the perfect pregnancy script.”  

Seb stood and gazed at you, trying to convey the calm you both could only find in each other.  

“Love, I promise,” he whispered softly. “For you, for the baby... I love winning, but today, and even more so when our child is born, I’ll have won the second most important race of my life.”  

You frowned, confused.  

“If that’s the second, what’s the most important race of your life then?”  

He chuckled and scooped you into his arms, kissing you again as he laid you both on the couch behind you.  

“The race I ran for so many years to win your heart,” he murmured between slow, deliberate kisses that said more than words ever could. “After all those years trying to get you to go out with me in high school, and now we’re eight months away from having a baby... what else could it be, mama?”  

[meinkatzchen]

For my text roleplays, I wanted to explore in more detail the question of...how Ren would treat the MC if they were beastkin. I didn't find any answers from Gato at that time, or I didn't look hard enough, but I came up with a headcanon regarding my cat-beastkin and I think it would suit all feline beastkins.

Foxes are vulpine (more to canines than felines tbh) and, remembering my pets (cats and dogs), when I brought them someone new to the family, due to the primary difference in smells, difference of species, habits, territorial instinct, they always treated newbie more aggressively at first.

And based on this + because of "remake" of Ren (where he looks more brutal, I think...and I like it so much), I have a headcanon that the two beastkins could even fight, simply because their instincts (which can be more acute towards beastkins than towards human) would dictate them to do so on the common territory (Strade would root for Ren in this case and would have a lot of fun, yeah. I can't speak for all MCs, but personally my cat-girl is definitely not a fighter, Ren could easily beat her up, and Strade would cut her claws or uses oven mitts, firmly securing them on her hands to avoid cuts on the fox-boy. 0 chanses.) But this is only the first month, then, I think, everything would be more calm (well, as calm as it can be in Strade's house)

I'm not trying to make Ren out to be some kind of bully, I think my cat might be provoking him unconsciously, that's just her nature somitimes. I just like to imagine that beastkins literally have to suppress their strong instincts to function in society, including if they encounter other species besides regular humans.

[etherealyoungk]

new beginnings - jeon wonwoo

summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.

pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader

themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort

warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats

wordcount: 2.1 k

a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute

you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.

you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.

"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.

"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.

but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.

wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.

it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.

"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.

"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.

you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.

you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.

that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.

you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.

you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.

you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.

sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.

you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.

"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.

"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.

you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.

he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.

"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.

"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.

"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.

"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.

"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.

you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.

"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.

you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.

"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.

"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.

"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.

-bonus scene-

you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.

you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.

"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.

just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is

taglist: @biboramp3 @naaaaafla @slytherinshua @weird-bookworm @icyminghao @blue-jisungs @wootify @idubiluv @n4mj00nvq @joshuaahong @itsveronicaxxx @fallingforshua29 @frankenstein852 @lvlystars @mirxzii drop an ask if you want to be added to my permanant taglist!

[yun-fangz]

Fleur. | K.HJ

my thoughts on Dilf! Designer Hongjoong because @crimsonbubble is an ENABLER. /lh. 🫵

pairing: designer!joong x intern!reader

general warnings: age gap (he's mid to late 30's, reader is early 20's), slightly obsessive!joong, suggestive, tension is off the charts, i need dilf hongjoong soooo bad.

wc: 1.2k

a/n: this has been in my mind since his apearance for balmain and im glad im finally able to share it. if i ever get the time and recources to do so, i would probably want to fic/turn this into a mini series.

NOTE: this was churned out in the heat of the moment, please ignore any formatting/grammatical errors, I'll fix them in a bit i just needed to get it out.

In the fashion world, Hongjoong was considered an enigma, untouchable to virtually everyone. From early on, his brand quickly made its way to the top of high fashion, further mysterizing himself to the world.

When you had managed to become an intern under his brand, Hongjoong’s curiosity was aroused. He watched as you moved along the building, completing your tasks for the workday. He didn't know what it was about you that drew his interest, but as time passed he slowly became infatuated with you. He made it a mission to personally oversee all of your work, seemingly impressed with your creative eye. You’d be called into his office or his “studio” in which he called it, quite often, receiving feedback and praise for your work by the older man.

Your bashfulness to him only served to inflate his ego as these meetings went on, his obsession with you rising alongside it. Late nights in his office would be shared as you began working alongside him. He used this time as an excuse to watch you close up, with the excuse of being a “guiding mentor”. He smirked at the warmth that blooms on your face as his fingers brush your arm, correcting pin placements on the form. As time passed, he’d allow you two to play this little game of cat and mouse, until he could bear it no longer.

-

As soon as Hongjoong entered the space, you could feel the air shift, a much heavier feeling wafting through the room. Focused on the newest form in front of you, pinning fabrics into place, you could feel his heavy eyes land on you. You continued to work, ignoring the feeling as best you could as he silently watched your every move.

“Not bad,” His voice cut through the quiet, low and smooth as he approached from behind. The prickle of his gaze on your back felt stronger than before he spoke, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” You murmured quietly. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you adjusted the pins on the garment. You had worked beside the older man for months by now, yet the way his attention lingered on you made you feel like you were constantly on the edge of something else—something more… forbidden.

He stalked closer, his presence so near now that you could almost feel the warmth radiating from his skin. His fingers ran against your arm as he reached from behind, correcting the placement of a pin you’d just set moments prior. such a simple touch sent a wave of heat through your body, and you froze for just a moment, acutely aware of just how close he was. Briefly, you close your eyes as the scent of his cologne wafts into your orbit, causing you to inhale shakily as you take in his arousing scent.

“You’ve learned quickly.” Hongjoong said, his breath brushing lightly against the side of your neck. His words were soft but laced with something else that made your heart thrum heavily against your chest.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the fabric in front of you, but it was nearly impossible to ignore his proximity. Every time you were called into his studio, every time you shared these late nights together, you could feel the tension between the two of you grow.

“Thank you,” you whispered again, your voice quieter this time, not trusting yourself to say much more. Your hands fumbled slightly with the fabric as you worked, your pulse pounding in your eardrums as you tried your hardest not to tremble.

Hongjoong’s hand lingered a moment longer, his fingers sliding lightly across your arm once more before he stepped away. You took a deep breath as his presence backs away, feeling a small sense of relief as you’re now able to think a bit more clearly.

“Don’t be so nervous,” he teases, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he circled around the form to face you. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see his intentions clearly. “I’m here to guide you, after all.”

You nod, biting your lip to stop the inappropriate thoughts running through your mind. The weight of his words felt heavier than they should have, each syllable laced with more than what they mean.

He moved back toward the garment, examining it with the same critical eye he always did, but his gaze would occasionally flicker to you between each look. You tried to focus, tried to push away the growing tension, but it was always there, like an electric current humming quietly in the background.

Another long moment passed in silence before Hongjoong spoke again, his voice much softer now, as if he were talking to a frightened kitten. “You know,” he began, stepping closer once again, his eyes boring into yours. “I’ve never been this impressed with anyone, let alone this quickly.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you couldn’t help but glance away, the heat all over your body spreading once more like a wildfire. He had praised your work before, many times actually, but this… this felt much different. His gaze lingered too long, it was too intimate, too close to you.

He tilted his head slightly, watching you with that same quiet intensity, as if testing the waters, seeing how far he could push you. His fingers reached out again, this time gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the soft gesture contrasting his domineering presence, it sent a thrill through your entire body. “I watch you and wonder,” he said, his voice low and sensual, “—if you even realize how much potential you have.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you force yourself to meet his gaze, though your pulse is racing. “I don’t understand” is all you can manage, your voice shaky as a lump begins to form in your throat, preventing you from speaking further.

Hongjoong’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying the way you react to him. His fingers brushed lightly against your jaw before he pulled back, his eyes still locked on yours. “You will,” he said quietly, his tone slightly reassuring and filled with something darker, something almost possessive.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy in the darkness of the candlelit room. You could feel the heat of his gaze, the way it seemed to strip you bare, and you knew that this game of cat and mouse was over. You stand there, unmoving, as his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to your eyes, leaning ever so slightly in.

But then, as if deciding he had pushed just far enough for the night, Hongjoong stepped back, his attention returning to the garment. “We’ll finish this tomorrow,” he said, his tone casual once more, though the lingering heat in the room told you everything you needed to know.

Quickly, you gathered your things to leave, heart still racing, you couldn’t help but wonder why he toys with you like this. But you already knew, with Hongjoong, nothing was ever simple. The more time you spent around him, the harder it became to resist the pull you felt towards him.

You give one last look at the older man before you step out of his office and into the parisian night, wondering just how long he’ll drag this out.

© 2024 Yun-Fangz All Rights Reserved.

sorry i got caught up with stuff so this took a little longer to write lol.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Bitter Sweet. ( Five x Reader Oneshot. )

i have no explanation other than my babies are still alive and that season 4 never happened SEASON 4 NEVER HAPPENED---- Give me snarky, asshole, pragmatic five back before i die. Reblogs/likes/comments all appreciated, thank u.

Title: Bitter Sweet. Fandom: The Umbrella Academy. Pairing: Heavily Implied ! Five x Reader. Rating: T. ( Language, lol. ) Words: 1.2K+ Summary: ( Taking place in an AU after season 4, let me live in my fantasy that's what fanfics are FOR ). You knew how specific Five was about his coffee. You knew he would speak his mind regarding and it was too much fun to let go of.

════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ 

Four cubes. 

No, no… Five felt his mouth part in astonishment, crystal clear green eyes peering in languid judgment as your plucked another sugar cube from a pristine porcelain bowl and plopped it right into the white coffee cup that was placed in front of you. It sploshed happily, absorbing the coffee and sweetening the deal for you to enjoy, but that was never the point in the grand scheme. You were ardently aware of how irritating it was, one cube after another. The quantity itself was deliberate and you knew… How you were able to feel his stare hell-bending holes into your face. He was unable to see the liquid despite trying with a narrow gaze but he was willing to bargain much of what he owned that it was pale in color, not even teetering towards tan but more towards plain white.

 A grimace was noticed by Klaus who bargained a chuckle as he looked towards you, seated beside him with raised eyebrows of acute amusement, “You’re desecrating whatever coffee you had, I think Five is going to lunge across the table and take you by the neck---” “Five can shove it.” The innocence that rode against your face was evident as the Hargreeves man  across from you scoffed under his breath at the juxtaposed expression coupled with the aggressive nature of your words. “It’s my cup, not his. We can’t all drink it b---”

“Black like my soul, right?” Five rolled his eyes, shoulders drawing themselves in some minor defense and you were able to see the tightness of which he held himself from the tailored nature of his suit. Five was lanky and skinny, but that didn't seek to say that he was without defined muscles against his sweeping collarbones and it was evident in certain motions that left you reeling back from the hardened words that he responded with.

“Get some original insults, (Name). You’re becoming way too predictable. Boring even---” His voice was incredulous, sticking towards monotonous but still held irate interest in speaking to you, only detectable around the edges and it sang against your ears. 

Flirtatious only to you, aggressive and leaned with hatred to others. A game of cat and mouse, though at times, you were unsure of which one you were playing. “I was going to say bitter just like your personality, but you know me. Predictable.” Klaus held a defensive hand up, grasping at his own cup and pretending he was beckoned elsewhere to avoid the confrontation that was inevitable coming in the way that Five cleared his throat, a hand raising and tightening the bundle of fabric where his tie rested against his throat. 

He straightened it, you noticed with acute mirth, but there was no need to. It was already perfectly placed, part of the morning ritual you imagined he held close to his chest after spending so long cultivating it. Five was… A creature of habit, to many extents. Needless to say, it was one of those simple actions that you enjoyed seeing none-the-less, fingers twitching in a finite need to deshevel the pin-black tie to further push the boundary of where you and Five so often tightroped. No solace was given to either party as his knuckles rubbed against the underside of his sharpened jaw. There was hostility tangling in with notes of attractive coyness as he snapped at you, “You’re a goddamn monster, you know that? Fuck---” “I’m not the one getting angry over how someone else makes their coffee.” You bit back without reserve and another sickly smile placed towards the brunette as you finally picked up your spoon and allowed it to sink into the cup. It scraped -- Horrid, Five felt a shiver run down his spine at the vibrations he could feel against the oak table from your simple movement. Like nails against a chalkboard. 

“Can you even call that coffee?” Five spliced and looked down at his own mug, half-emptied and his saliva still coating and drying where he had last taken a drink against the curve. “Did ya even put any in there? Any beans? Any espresso?” “There’s some in here.” There was a justification with a faux pout which Five remarked as being feverishly unfair. You were good at playing expressions, he was good at playing words. “I think….” You mused and lifted your cup up to your mouth and kissed the rim. Five swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing which was feasted upon by your eyes before you took a long sip. Control rested in your hands as you refused to let him look away from you. 

Five sneered, your eyes taking in the delectations of seeing his sharpened canines. “You’re going to lose all your teeth from all the shit you put in that. Creamer and then what? Five sugar cubes? Are you a horse? Want me to feed you them straight from my hand?” There was a rustling sound as Five leaned inwards, his suit jacket pulling up with the motion that was placed as he so graciously plucked a sugar cube from the bowl that had been nearly emptied by you and offered it in the palm of his hand. “C’mon, take it. Be a good little horse.” “”Ha-ha,” You laughed sarcastically, smacking his gesture away which sent the cube flying off to be cleaned up later. “I’ll bite your fingers clean off.” “Not if you don’t have any fucking teeth! I kind of hope you do lose them. Hell, take me to the dentist when you get them pulled, I’ll bring them home and make a necklace for you.”

“You DIY things, Five?” There was another laugh from you as you took a sip of your drink, “Never pegged you to be that crafty.” There was emphasis on the word ‘pegged’, Five catching hold of the implication which garnered you that shit-eating grin that was more than infamous at this point. “Just this once.” He smirked, giving you a dimpled smile of feigned innocence to rival the one you splayed for him earlier. Sitting up in his seat, it scooted against the floor below with a loud bellow and you watched with bated astonishment as he leaned against the table to bring his upper half closer to you. Face only inches apart now, you refused to relent eye contact with him and tried to desperately shove down the connotation that you were able to clearly smell the after-shave that he favored. Pinely in scent, you wanted to grasp at his chin and feel the stubble against your fingers but that wasn’t the point here. The point was to be the cat while Five was forced to be the mouse.

“Just for you, a nice necklace and some earrings. Bracelet, maybe? A matching set. You'd look like such a doll."

“I’ll wear the set to your funeral. Clutch them instead of my pearls as I sob, telling everyone what a wonderful ray of sunshine you were to be around before you so tragically died.”

“Is that a date?” 

Five huffed at you as you stood from your seat, his gawk watching the movement with hostility as you craned your body towards him and grasped the base of his tie. Enlightened with curiosity, the disgusting smile of attraction rose along his cheeks, quickly torn to shreds as you pulled the tie downwards, the knot coming undone without reserve. 

“With you six feet under? You bet your damn ass it is.”

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part three

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” you answer suspiciously. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” You would. “I would.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan.” 

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

“Stop staring at my ass.” 

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

“Haechan!”

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

“Keep your voice down.”

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

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

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

“Think, Haechan.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“I just think—”

“Haechan?”

He sighs in defeat. “Yes?”

“Change the topic or leave my apartment.”

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

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

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

He pouts at you. “Is that a no?”

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

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

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

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

“Haechan–”

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

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

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

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

“Into what? Bondage?”

He gives you a look. “No.”

“Cowboys?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Is this you being nice?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me taste you.” 

“What?” you mumble, surprised. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Haechan.”

“Hi.”

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

“Came to help clean up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You really will have your hands full with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” you hiss, and he snickers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew that was risky.” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oop–”

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

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

“What’s up?” Chenle asks.

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

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

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

“...Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark does!” you hiss. “I do, too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hi.”

“Hi,” he replies with a secretive smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Girl.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night!” Chaewon yells.

“Good luck!” Yunjin says encouragingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not part of the plan. 

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

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

This absolutely was not in the plan.

“Um, I can’t hang out.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… doing things… already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep,” he replies casually.

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

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

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

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

“You insisted on seeing me!”

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

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

“But?”

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

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

“Wh– huh?” you stammer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re insufferable,” you groan.

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

“Do not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You get all slick around me, remember?”

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

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

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

“What are you thinking about, then?”

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

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

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

You sigh quietly. “Haechan.”

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

“Don’t call me that.”

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

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

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

“I like this skirt!” you protest immediately. 

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

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

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

“Haechan—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan,” you scold pathetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?” he calls softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan?”

“Baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me you like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna do it again?”

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, they canceled,” you lie.

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

“Um… after?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two had sex, didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, what am I gonna do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan [16:44] miss you already, baby

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

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

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

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

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

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

[robobarbie]

Robo i miss my male wife (Nightowl)

In order to fill my void, what would the Blooming panic Ll’s do when they miss there partner 🥹

dw since I'm in charge of the askbox rn Robo can't put him down we're safe here

Quest will acutely feel those hiccups that happen when there's a sudden void in your daily routine. Putting the second mug back in the cabinet, automatically adjusting to your presence on the couch– or if you haven't met yet, checking the chat client when you're usually online. He's used to loneliness but this is a new one, and he just sort of rides it out, waiting until the day your side of the bed is warm again. If you're married he twists the ring on his finger and stares at nothing in particular for a spell, then sends you a text to let you know he's thinking of you.

Nightowl is the opposite– too much love and energy and nowhere to put them will make him a little chaotic. He makes an attempt to do the things he doesn't get to do as much as when he was solo: takeout joints only he likes, spending way too long shopping for new jewelry, sitting out in the cold and doing studies of interesting buildings. When that doesn't work he sends you a message or six, probably including a pitiful selfie and/or a photo of what you're missing. He counts down the hours on the watch or the days on the calendar and dreams up the ways he'll welcome you back on your return, over and over and over again.

Xyx would send a couple goofy pictures of him or Cat; depending on how far along you are in the relationship, he'll either tell you to hurry up or just say "come home soon, love". He finds things to fill his time– might as well get all his work done now, means more time with you when you return– and when all that is done or stops distracting him, he makes a reservation for something he knows you'll like. Then, he reads, and tries to sink into the book before he can sink into unproductive thoughts. You'll be back. It'll be alright.

Toasty acts a bit like they're used to, falling into their routine before meeting you. More gaming, more browsing, begrudgingly moving their cups and plates to the kitchen. This time, though, they look out the window more, check their phone, drum their fingers on the desk. If you can't call, he plays a video just to hear your voice, then gets a little embarrassed.

[cybermindz]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ contains. nsfw, explicit : fem!reader, oral (fem receiving), praise ♡, light smacking, pússydrunk! sugu ♡, manhandling (?), usage of petnames (baby, pretty, sweet girl), wc : 800+

suguru’s eyes are intense and he damn well knows it too. acutely aware of how they affect you, especially when he’s busying himself in between your legs much like now, lapping at your soaked cunt. his violet irises ogling, studying each face twisting reaction he can pull from you, how you can't help but shy away, unable to watch as he’s working you over to reach that sweet obliterating bliss.

he uses it to his advantage every time when your head lolls back against the plush pillow — quick to have one heavy hand on your inner thigh to keep you from shutting your legs while another snakes up your body — muscled arm long enough to tug on your nape, causing you to prop up on your elbows with your head ducked down to focus on him again.

suguru’s cat-like gaze is downright feral, his eyes unflinching and unrelenting — never leaving your face. it’s vicious, so zealous and sharp that a shiver runs up your spine and he’s just smugly drinking up every drop of everything you’re displaying. devouring you completely, almost like a predator taking in his prey. to his displeasure, you instantly shut your own eyes tightly with a sense of embarrassment from the angle. the way his tongue was making your puffy pussy glisten so lewdly makes your whole body tingle with an unbearable heat.

“nuh uh open your eyes, pretty baby,” he murmurs in that deep, honeyed voice against your clit, making you shudder as a white flash of euphoria shoots through your core from the vibrations. your cheeks are flushed — reluctant yet so completely entranced. “watch me, wanna see you looking at me.”

“suguuuu,” you shook your head desperately in his grasp with a pitiful whine. his eyes narrowed into slits at your defiant action, his grip on the back of your neck tightens just a little. it's a subtle warning, but there nonetheless — not afraid to exert his power or authority on you.

“eyes on me sweet girl,” he momentarily latches his mouth off of you to repeat himself, face now close to yours you can feel his breath fanning on your cheeks. his tone is gentle but still firm, leaving no room for argument. “don't make me ask you again, you know better. don't be silly.”

he can see how overwhelmed you’re feeling, the bashfulness radiating off of you but he's desperate for the sweet sight of you, needing to witness how far he’s managed to make you a pleasured-drunk mess. the only time he wants to see you look away is when your eyes are rolling back as you cum for him. he’ll be damned if he won't be able to take in every single little expression on your sweet face, see every bit of emotion cross through you.

as soon as you flutter your eyes back open, suguru immediately locks onto them with that same fierce, fixed stare. "theeeerre you go, good girl." the praise leaves his lips in a deep rumble, almost sounding like a purr. another low guttural “very good,” reverberates deep within suguru’s chest before he’s delving in again, your thighs trembling in response.

his ministrations would go right back to being feverish, his tongue working you thoroughly, and his fingers on the back of your nape slowly loosens into a more gentle hold, the feeling completely opposite to the way he was consuming you. to the point of it almost feeling out of place, but it works in calming you down.

he’s got you completely hostage, you’re mesmerized by it all as he continues to keep you enthralled in this intimate moment. and just to tease you, he changes the pace into a more sensual one. his mouth slowly moving at an almost torturously agonizing tempo, wanting to keep you in this overwhelming state of helpless bliss.

suguru feels like there’s sparks going off in his brain, his body feeling like it's buzzing from how good it feels. the taste of you, the array of cute sounds and expressions you're making feeds into his already insatiable hunger — wanting more and more of you. he's in absolute heaven almost drunk on having you in such a state and he can tell just how lost you are in the moment too, eyes practically glazed over and powerless — unable to formulate a single thought or look away with both his clutch and heated gawking.

practically focused on you like a laser, watching you so closely. almost waiting for the moment your eyes would close — taking in every little detail, every little movement you make. and if your eyes go half-lidded just even slightly, he always makes sure to give you a little reprimand, the sensation never failing to shock you out of your almost trancelike state — with either a well placed nip on your sensitive clit, or a sharp smack on your inner thigh.

“you get distracted so easily,” he’d say in a mocking tone, thumb softly caressing the side of your neck. “can’t focus for me huh? can’t even stay awake…you’re just so damn sensitive, baby.”

© 𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐙 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works.

[ellouchi]

One-shot: taking a bath with Jimmy (gn/just hints of suggestiveness)

Disclaimer: none? You know how Jimmy is.

Side notes: super indulgent if you couldn't tell. I wrote this in one day, sorry if this sucks ass. Don't judge me on the order of things! Sorry if it breaks the illusion or something.

"If you needed an excuse to grope me, you could've just asked" Jimmy teased sarcastically, pulling his smelly jersey over his head and dropping it carelessly onto the growing heap of clothes laying on the cold bathroom tiles.

"Uh-huh, you know exactly what I mean." You punched his arm playfully, knowing too well how Jimmy would respond to your proposition in the first place. "We will just take a bath together and that's the end of it."

"And that's it? Really? I find it hard to believe that you don't have any ulterior motives. Besides, I can wash myself just fine without another pair of hands getting in my way, what's the point of us washing together if we won't be fucking?" Jimmy tried again, this time locking his eyes with the buckle of his belt. He could tell you could tell he felt sceptical about this whole idea. From where he looked at it, it didn't make sense, just like countless other things you suggested doing ever since you two became "a couple". However, most of times he enjoyed doing said activities with you, albeit never getting rid of his wariness and cheeky attitude often accompanied by lewd comments.

Once Jimmy was naked, he folded his arms and looked at you expectantly. It was rather an endearing sight, and as much as you would have loved to memorize every detail and curve of your boyfriend's physique, you opted for flinging the last articles of clothes from your own body.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in!"

It's not like Jimmy has never taken a bath before, it was just the one you had prepared he had a problem with. He scowled back at the hot steam rising in puffy clouds, the kind of temperatures he didn't get to experience before on his skin. The water glimmered with a thin orange sheen from the bath bomb you bought at the store, it gave out a nice smell of grapefruit at least. You observed Jimmy eyeing the tub with mistrust, most likely asking himself if this was even appropriate for humans to wash in. You wondered if Jim would ask you if this would leave him more dirty than before he got in or would this give him third degree burns.

"Looks like Satan's cauldron straight up from hell. Are you sure it won't boil me alive?" So it was the second option.

"I take those bathes all the time and look at me: I'm both clean and unharmed. So quickly get in, unless you want me to manhandle you like a cat."

With a dragged out 'fine' Jimmy dipped his foot into the water, waiting for the burn which never came, and then finally sat in the tub with a wince. The water was way hotter to what he was used to, that much was clear: he could feel the warmth instantly envelope his body like he was wrapped in the blanket set on fire. You followed suit, settling behind him and pulling his body from behind to rest against yours.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Jimmy asked, scenes from different movies flashing somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Next time for sure, but now just lay like this and try to relax" you reassured, not offering any further explanations.

And so Jimmy went silent, just resting there in your embrace, watching the flicker of candles you previously scattered around the bathroom "to add to the atmosphere". Being acutely aware of your exposed body just below him, soft and inviting, really put his lower part of the body to a test. It would be so easy for Jimmy to flip around and pin your wrists above your head, to glide his free hand from your wet flustered face down to your bare abdomen. And yet, the man has closed his eyes instead, listening in to the soft melody you put on the background, trusting you this one time. He had already decided that if this bathing time didn't prove to be worthwhile, he would take matters into his own hands instead. Later.

Jimmy almost jolted from his nap when he felt your hands suddenly snake from his chest to his shoulders. Your fingers begun to slowly knead his tense muscles, smoothing out knots formed from the tension. It wasn't easy, but the water managed to relax his body quite a bit for you to work your magic. Meanwhile Jimmy tried his best to suppress the tremor of pleasure running through him each time you found a new spot to massage. Fuck he never knew how badly he needed that. He could moan alone just from this, but he didn't want you to think something weird of him or think he was this easy to please. Still, without any words you could tell Jimmy felt fantastic: the way his body slacken against yours, hear how he silently sighed, and sense his big hand lightly gripping your knee. You swore you heard him swear under his breath when you dipped your thumbs between his shoulders blades.

"Jimmy, the water is getting cold" you hinted. The man understood it was time for washing, so he lazily rose into a sitting position, folding his knees to the chest.

"Mmm I'm awake I'm awake..." Jimmy grumbled when you poured as much water as you could over his head.

"I know silly, I will wash your hair now" you explained, reaching behind to grab a brand new shampoo bottle you bought for Jimmy. That men's "three in one" shampoo will haunt you for days to come, you always wondered who were those men who bought this stuff but here was Jimmy, living under your roof. He even had the nerve to complain about you wasting products when you chucked the bottle to trash.

You carefully rubbed the gel into Jimmy's scalp, humming to the changing tune of the music, minding tangled locks which you gently combed through to even out. As you massaged his head further, the delicious fruity scent followed into Jimmy's nostrils, the smell he initially attributed to lady's shampoo now seeming more unisex than he initially thought. When you lightly scratched his scalp, the man almost let out a purr, leaning into your touch, following your motions. Jimmy washed his hair all the time, why with you it felt so different?

"Like this... this feels good yeah Jimmy?" You cooed into Jimmy's ear. He couldn't see your face but he could hear your smile in your voice. Obviously, Jimmy enjoyed every second of it, but you relished in too, huh...? He couldn't understand why.

Your boyfriend responded with an affirmative hum as you rinsed his hair, tilting his jaw up so the soapy water couldn't get into his eyes.

Another creaky sound of the bottle being opened disturbed an otherwise silent room, of the shower gel Jimmy assumed. He felt a sponge press onto his neck, moving in circles. The man took it as a sign to lower his head and sit tighter, exposing more of his back for you to wash.

Jimmy had a brief moment of clearance appear out of nowhere. Stretching his back like that has never felt so easy before, his skin and muscles would tug at his bones, despite the fact that he practiced weightlifting for so many years. The tension sitting in his body, akin to a spring ready to burst, suddenly just not being there. He couldn't deny that your touch...no, not only that, your care and your presence put his body and mind to the state of ease he couldn't remember feeling ever from anyone else in his life. Hell, when was the last time Jimmy exposed his back like that to anyone? When was the last time someone's hands delicately touched his body with nothing but care?

When was the last time he was taken care of in such an intimate, non sexual way...?

You stoped moving the sponge in your hand when you felt Jimmy's frame lightly shaking. Did you find a ticklish spot? You were about to tease your boyfriend, oblivious to the revelations the man came up with, until you ears picked upon a chipped sob. Your mood suddenly darkened.

"Jim? Hey, what's wrong? Hey...."

The man didn't respond instantly, his shoulders buckling inwards before he spoke "...'s nothing, sorry." He replied as flatly as he could muster, responding to his own reflection on the water.

"Did I do something wro--" you couldn't help asking before your question got cut off.

"Stop. No, don't say that. You didn't do... anything wrong... It's me..."

The last word felt like a punch to the gut. You desperately wanted Jimmy to turn around, for you to wipe his tears away and tell the sweetest reassurance, but you knew it was better to let him be. Jimmy wouldn't want you to see him weeping like this.

"Do you want me to hug you?"

"Yeah..." He stopped briefly "... please".

Without a beat, you carefully laid your warm body on Jimmy's cooling back, putting your cheek on the backside of his shoulder. Your arms embraced his waist protectively, occasionally moving to caress his sides. The water was starting to go cold, the candles almost burned to the end.

The music continued to quietly hum in the corner.

[my-debauchery]

Stop.

idol!jisung × afab!reader

g`smut

cw`explicit content, kissing(cheek), cockwarming, begging, edging?, mention of tears, teasing, unprotected sex

wc`0.6k

A/N: not really sure about this, but i hope you like it. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

all you can hear is humming of a humidifier, movie playing and jisung's breathing. both of you are naked, half laying against the headboard. you are on top of him. your back against his front. you can feel his rapid heartbeat both on your back and from his cock inside you.

it all started because you decide it'll be fun to tease jisung during dinner. saying he wouldn't be able to resist you and sit through the movie, while you cockwarm him. how wrong you were.

it's you who cannot sit still. you've been fidgeting and squirming around for an hour and there is still 45 minutes left.

you tried to bring jisung's hands forward to your breast's, but he just asked you to not distract him and huged you around the stomach.

you tried to subtly move up and down, pretending to get comfortable. but jisung just tightened his grip on you 'stop moving around, you are distracting me'

you tried to tighten your pussy, hoping he will finally fold. but it just made you acutely aware of how hard his cock become and how dip he's in now. pressing deliciously in all the right places.

'you seem to be quiet hard, do you want me to do something about it?' you say, as you turn your head to the side, trying to look at him 'no. but, please, stop moving around. i'm trying to watch the movie' he smiles and kisses your temple.

you are on edge. it seems you've never been this horny. you want to jump his bones now. you don't care who wins.

you decide to beg and whine for him, knowing it always gets to him 'jisuuuung, please. you win, okay? i am insane for you. can you finally fuck me? pleeease' you are scratching on hiss hands, like a cat in heat.

he chuckles and catches your hands in his grip 'really? are you that desperate? can't wait for 30 more minutes? but, baby, you were so confident, am i that irresistible? weren't you supposed to be the one in control of their desire?'

you flush and try to look away. seeing and hearing jisung be this cocky and slightly condescending to you, made you feel even more hot and wet when you were already 'please, stop teasing. you know i want you an unnormal amount. i was just joking before'

'were you? aren't i still young and quick to cum?' you whine like a kicked puppy 'please, i'm sorry'

jisung humms and traps your arms in a even tighter hug 'i don't know, love. i'm tired after practice and have an earlier call tomorrow for the comeback shoot. let's go to sleep' he says nonchalantly and makes a move to pull out.

'no! stop!' you try to move down, but his hold is to strong.

suddenly jisung pushes your legs over his to the sides, bends his legs and plants his feet firmly on the bed. jisung's action make his cock slip in deeper, making it kiss your cervix.

'oh, i'll stop. we wouldn't want to see you cry, right?' he kisses you cheek and starts slumming his hips upwards.

in the morning, during the shoot, mark asks him 'jisung-a, did you play games all night again? did you sleep at all? why were you late?' haechan sits down next to him 'you should pay attention to your girlfriend instead. she might not like to date a man-child'

he just shrugs 'we were watching movies, so i overslept. sorry for being late' jaemin ruffles his hair on the way out 'it's okay, kid. try not to be late next time, okay?' jisung nods and puts on his beanie. they all shuffle out to the set and jisung smiles to himself, remembering your pretty tears.

he guesses there is no need for others to know, just how hard it is for him to stop playing with you.

[izsheum]

Hello!!!

Can i listen to you yap about rodimus and swerve for hours please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

WHEN I TOLD YOU I JUMPED FOR JOY!!!

ugh these guys have been in my brain for a bit now…i swear

“it’d be cool if i took my favs and made them kiss haha that’d be so silly” and then Boom. I kept thinking.

have some art of them i am in the trenches methinks

when i tell you they are PEAK yapper + louder yapper…

like i genuinely believe that’s how it can start. two losers who love to hear themselves talk? it should be a recipe for disaster.

However.

it’s not like swerve doesn’t know when it’s not his turn to talk. he’s got a big mouth, and criminal levels of audacity, but he has manners. and that means that whenever rodimus goes on and on about whatever bullshit he had to deal with during the day, he listens.

and, good lord, rodimus can definitely talk.

he does so with swerve probably after having a few because i mean…that’s how this starts, surely. a bottle of top-shelf and a purely functional arrangement.

(hundreds of words of sleep-deprivation-induced writing under the cut. i am so sorry. completely sfw btw just barely on the edge of suggestive.)

predictably, swerve’s constant chatter is bearable after rodimus gets in a few drinks. and in the beginning of Whatever The Hell They Got Going On starts with the two of them building a routine.

swerve supplies the shots of liquid stress relief and a listening ear (audio processor? cybertronian anatomy is lost on me), and rodimus provides what can only be described as a semi-coherent stream of complaints and whines about his day. and he has a lot to gripe about—he’s suffering from an acute case of ‘doomed by the narrative’, primus help him.

and swerve, for the most part, is quite a good active listener. not that rodimus would ever admit that out loud (for now) because swerve wouldn’t be able to keep that kinda praise to himself. i mean, the guy raved for months after getting his own rodimus star…yeah, no, not happening. rodimus’ appreciation will remain unspoken, thank you very much.

he gets his sentiment of ‘thank you for listening to my bullshit, you’re such a good friend’ out there by continuing to show up. same time, every day, like clockwork. he’s there in the bar, long laundry list of things he’s going to cry like a baby about, and swerve is at the ready with the fainting couch. their little ‘whine and cheese hour’ (as swerve calls it. rodimus will adamantly deny that he likes the name. it’s not clever. it’s not! it’s apparently a human thing, anyways. little thief.) is probably the only thing he’s ever on-time for at this rate.

having someone listen politely to your woes is. nice! having someone gently try and guide you into solutions to said problems is…manageable, i suppose.

having someone who gasps dramatically and exclaims “i can’t believe you had to deal with that—you’re so much stronger than me for putting up with such scrap” is euphoric.

because since getting the weight of the universe thrust on his shoulders again and again. since he had it ground into him every single day that he needs to be this mature, wise, thoughtful leader who doesn’t react to problems with complaints, but rather calm understanding followed by benevolent resolution…rodimus has completely, truly missed just being able to talk shit.

and, oh, does swerve just love that song and dance.

this isn’t therapy, and neither of them are going to pretend it is, though the constant flow of drinks does manage to feel like something akin to self-medication after a while. their lives are messy, god damn it, and they’re going to cope with it messily!

and cope they do. and they talk. a lot. and—for some reason—it helps. turns out, when you get to vent all your frustrations towards someone who knows how to match your energy exactly, you feel seen. not as this esteemed figure who needs to watch what he says and make sure he keeps up the display of picture-perfect-motivational-cat-poster-leader twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five…but as just. a guy. a guy with a lot on his shoulders and a lot more on his mind. turns out, talking with swerve ends up helping rodimus feel normal.

go figure.

and somewhere between the start of their little unofficial gossip sessions and the end of another bottle of the good engex, something bubbles up that wasn’t there before. and it isn’t the carbonation in the cocktail.

feelings. affectionate ones. rodimus goes to recharge afterwards all giddy, like some newly forged spark still buzzing with boundless energy, and honestly? he feels like he might be going crazy. might need some actual fucking therapy, because ho-ly shit he is not about to entertain this. not at all.

because, let’s be real here, it’s swerve we’re talking about. swerve. s-w-e-r-v-e. the ‘shut your damn mouth’ guy? he used to annoy the living hell out of rodimus when he first came aboard, and nowadays rodimus finds himself excited at the thought of going to talk to him again.

war changes people…and, okay, the war is. over, technically. but still. maybe he hit his head a little too hard during a mission. yeah! yeah, that’s it. little concussion knocked a couple things loose in his processor. that’s why he’s suddenly wanting to share more than just his woes with the little ‘bot. that’s why he starts asking swerve about himself, why he starts listening back. chimes in every so often with “huh, i never knew that” or “you should show that to me some time” when swerve goes on his little tirades about foreign media.

why rodimus can’t help but wonder how that big mouth would feel against—

phew! yeah, definitely brain damage. because the alternative is that rodimus has started feeling terrible, awful, affectionate things for swerve. and that just won’t do. nope!

but ohhhhhh god, does that do nothing to stop his imagination. because really. how would swerve fare if he used that mouth for something else—

thankfully for rodimus, swerve is an avid fan of imagining things that he can never have. dreaming like the hopeless mech he is about a future that only someone as deeply delusional and para-social as himself could think up.

in his swerve-y fantasy, the talks start to mean something. rodimus goes from coworker to situational friend to…something. something that he can’t place his finger on. but it’s something that he doesn’t believe he can have. because while rodimus laughs at his jokes…he’s also laughing drunk. and swerve is desperate to let people close, sure. he likes people, he wants friends, he loves connection. but he’s not stupid. a bit air-headed? sure. but not dumb. not by a long shot. he has a mental list of things that he can try to have (friendship, a successful business, endless adventures with said friends that he plans to get more of, he swears), and things that are off-limits.

you can guess which box rodimus starts to fall into.

doesn’t mean he can’t…y’know. think about him. a lot. find excuses to comm him about this or that, subtly hint that he misses him…uh, he meant their talks! offer him free drinks just to see the way his face lights up. deny the suspicion of special treatment by reminding rodimus that he’s the captain! c’mon! of course he deserves a little leeway!

and ignore the fact that the reassurance is more for himself.

swerve is so good at believing that this something he imagines with rodimus is so, so far out of reach that he thinks it’s a joke when rodimus propositions him for the first time.

and, c’mon, he’s gotta be having auditory hallucinations. because there’s no fucking way in the world—in the galaxy, or in the whole universes that he’s visited, for that matter—that (co-) captain fucking rodimus prime-not-prime-status-still-pending-thanks-a-lot-matrix-of-lameship asked to borrow him for the evening. he nearly drops the glass in his hand.

because that’s the only way rodimus can bring himself to phrase it when he finally fucking gets through all five-billion stages of grief over this stupid crush. god. he was so pathetic. the worst part was that he didn’t even care anymore.

“yo! are you working tonight? can i borrow you for the rest of it? we can watch that movie you were talking about earlier this week, or whatever.”

or whatever. rodimus would’ve just tossed himself out the nearest airlock if he wasn’t glued to his recharged slab (not literally, this time) rocking back and forth like an asylum patient. he could hear the cries now—nurse! nurse! he’s out again!

successful attempts at being casual: zero. days since last urge to ram his head into the wall: also zero.

swerve’s response comes in quickly just before rodimus contemplates jumping ship and taking a page outta megatron’s book and starting a new life in another universe. and if rodimus wasn’t busy having a fucking panic attack, he’d’ve noticed the undercurrent of excitement in swerve’s voice when he strains out those six little words.

“sure thing! your place or mine?”

it ends up being at rodimus’. more space meant more wall for the projection of ‘Alien’.

not that they ended up paying much attention to the movie by the time the fledgling xenomorph got loose.

and liiiisten. listen. they didn’t plan on it going that way, alright? major props to ridley scott—the two of them were intensely invested in the film for a good long while. but, as per usual, swerve brought drinks to help ease the tension that threatened to smother them as soon as he entered rodimus’ quarters.

he would’ve pat himself on the back, too, if he wasn’t so consumed by the way the light of the projection reflected off of rodimus’ frame. and rodimus would’ve thanked him (and i mean, like, actually thank him, no reluctance left in him whatsoever) if he wasn’t so focused on the warmth of swerve next to him.

the elephant in the room was slaughtered and left for dead in the same way as the crew of the nostromo as soon as they locked eyes.

and rodimus ended up being right.

swerve’s mouth could do a lot more than just talk.

[violent138]

Dick's voice interrupted the daze Tim had settled into while he worked. "Can we talk about the cow in the room?"

Tim, poring through files on the computer, chin resting on a numb, aching hand. "It's acutally elephant in the room."

"No, Tim there's an actual cow in the room."

Tim frowned, the words slow to register before a crash made him turn around fast, just time to see the cow knock down the rest of the bo staffs. "What the fuck?"

"Right?" Dick held out his arms, waving. "Here, boy, come here."

The cow didn't respond at all, continuing to huff and rummage around the sticks on the ground.

"It's not a cat." Tim chided when Dick started hissing instead.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Dick demanded, throwing up his hands.

"How did it--" Tim winced as the cow made one of the mannequins crash down the stairs. "How did it even get here?"

The Cave had been invaded by Lanterns, Superman, but no cows.

The cow tugged its head away, lowing in annoyance when Dick tried reaching for it.

"I'm calling Clark." Dick declared, backing away.

"Good idea, watch out for--" Tim grimaced and Dick swore, trying to kick off the cow dung he'd stepped into. "You need to work on your spatial awareness, Nightwing."

"Hey Clark." Dick said into the phone, jokingly attempting to wipe off his boot on Tim's cape. "No, everything's fine, that shriek was Timmy. I'm calling about a cow."