#hell link your playlists too

[vault-kid]

please, what's the song you associate your fallout oc with the most? like you hear it and you immediately think of them, or feel like its them singing it, or theres an amv of them in your head .

[reiderwriter]

505

Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!

Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.

A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~

Masterlist || Playlist

Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence. 

Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth. 

You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow. 

He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case. 

He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan. 

He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady. 

You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants. 

‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax. 

Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen. 

He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow. 

“Spencer, fuck…”

Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for. 

He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt. 

You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious. 

He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep. 

Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?

“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”

“What?” 

“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock. 

Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself. 

“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.” 

“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips. 

His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary. 

���You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass. 

It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked. 

When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately. 

“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would. 

“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.” 

You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates. 

“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with. 

“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.” 

Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything. 

Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name. 

Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him. 

Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction. 

Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom. 

It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds. 

With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep. 

When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you. 

But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself. 

At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him. 

You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered. 

He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock. 

“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move. 

“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring. 

His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat. 

“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor. 

“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh. 

He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms. 

“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear. 

You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you. 

“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him. 

“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again. 

You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off. 

It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to. 

“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply. 

“Y/N, please I mean it-” 

“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours. 

He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward. 

He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings. 

After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him. 

“Stroke it.” 

You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid. 

Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his. 

“Spread your legs. Now.” 

You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused. 

“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.

“Y-Yes.” 

“Did you think about me in the shower?” 

“Spencer, I can expl-” 

“Answer me. Please.” 

“Yes.” 

“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.” 

He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest. 

But he wasn't in a giving mood. 

“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor. 

Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet. 

He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down. 

“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view. 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.” 

“You're manipulative, you know that?” 

“I just know what I want, Spencer.” 

“Then come and take it.” 

Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap. 

It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you. 

But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly. 

Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.

You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back. 

He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night. 

His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.

It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him. 

“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer. 

You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it. 

“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again. 

All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world. 

You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you. 

Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.

[domjaehyun]

the need to know (l.dh) — part two

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader  GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 17.7k in part two SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. hello hello here’s part 2!! i hope you enjoy 💖 please consider letting me know if you liked it!! (if you didn’t…. well… too bad ig) part three (the last part) will be out in one week!! that’s wednesday, december 18!! if you don’t want to wait, the full fic is available now on my patreon!! okay enough rambling from me, hehe. happy reading!!

By the time you all arrive at the hotel, it’s well into the evening, the sky a canvas of blue with pastel streaks of purple, pink, and orange. 

“Dang, your manager hooked you up.” Mark remarks, letting out a low whistle as you all take in the sight of the modern style yet grandiose hotel architecture.

“She’s the best, actually.” you sigh happily as you head through the front doors, eyes widening as you take in the interior design of the lobby, the decor and layout somehow more impressive and expensive-looking than the outside. 

You make your way to the front desk, smiling politely at the hotel receptionist as your friends catch up to you. You give her your first and last name, and she looks through the system before handing you four small, card-sized envelopes.

“Here are your room keys! Enjoy your stay.” she says with a friendly wave, and you smile, thanking her before you make your way to the middle of the hallway near the elevators.

“How are we gonna split up the rooms?” Jeno asks curiously, and you examine the envelopes carefully before holding one up.

“Well, this is my room.” you say, wiggling the envelope in the air, and Haechan frowns.

“Says who?” 

“Says the golden star sticker on the envelope, dummy,” Renjun states, and you nod in agreement. “She’s the reason we’re here, so I’m sure they set aside a special room for her.”

“Fine,” Haechan huffs. 

“Wait a minute…” Jaemin says, stepping forward to look at your handful of room keys. “There are only four rooms.”

“Yeah?” Jiwoo says, confused. 

“That means two to a room… and there are three girls and five guys in our group… so that means—”

“A guy and a girl are gonna have to share a room,” Jihyo finishes, and you successfully fight down the urge to meet Haechan’s gaze as he sneaks a glance at you.

“Well, should we do, like, Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who has to share?” Mark suggests, and you shrug and nod.

“Well, wait, Jeno and I will room together; we’re already roommates, so that just makes sense.”

“Yeah, but I’m not rooming with Mark,” Haechan huffs. “We’re already roommates, so we’re getting sick of each other.”

“Well, I’m not rooming with Haechan!” Renjun exclaims, shaking his head vehemently. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Haechan replies. “I think.”

“Why don’t we do Rock, Paper, Scissors between Mark, Renjun, and Haechan, and first and second place get to share a room together?” Jihyo suggests, and they grumble indistinctly before reluctantly agreeing.

The first round, they all throw rock, making it a tie.

The second round, Mark throws paper, Haechan throws rock, and Renjun throws scissors, making it a tie yet again.

The third round, Mark and Haechan both throw scissors, while Renjun throws rock.

“Hell, yeah!” Renjun cheers before looking over at you sheepishly. “I’m not cheering because I don’t have to room with you; I’m cheering for the love of the game and winning.”

“Understood,” you chuckle, patting his shoulder understandingly.

Mark and Haechan throw scissors. Then they throw rock. Then they throw scissors. Then they throw paper.

“Jesus Christ, are you two mentally linked or something?” Jaemin asks exasperatedly, and Mark scowls.

“Be quiet, I need to focus.” he says dismissively, waving Jaemin off. 

Finally, the last round comes and Mark throws scissors and you’re not sure if you’re the only one who caught it, but there’s a significant delay between Mark’s hand and Haechan throwing a sign, your eyes widening almost imperceptibly in surprise as Haechan’s hand extends out flat.

“Scissors beat paper!” Mark cheers victoriously, and he and Renjun high-five.

Haechan shrugs nonchalantly at his defeat, sporting a “what can you do��� kind of smile as he looks over at you. “Hey, roomie.”

You can feel Jihyo’s stare burning holes into the side of your head, and it takes everything in you to react naturally, rolling your eyes and sighing loudly.

“Okay, I guess.” you agree hesitantly, and Jihyo rubs your back sympathetically.

“We’ll see you in the morning for the festival, okay?” she says, and you nod, starting to head to your room. Haechan catches up with you easily, taking your bags from your hands and slinging one over his shoulder, holding the other in the hand not holding his own bag.

As you two walk to the elevator, you grab Haechan by the ear as soon as you’re both out of sight, shushing his yelps of alarm and pain as you pull him into the waiting elevator. You don’t release him until the doors shut on you, and when you do, he shoots you a wounded look as he rubs his ear.

“What was that for?!” he squawks, and you point at him accusingly.

“You threw that game on purpose so you’d room with me—didn’t you?”

He shrugs once more, crossing his arms smugly. “Says who?”

“I saw your hand,” you whisper loudly. “You put paper up after Mark threw scissors.”

There’s a moment in which he doesn’t speak and neither of you move, and a sly grin takes over his face as he speaks. “Do you watch my hands often?”

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, pushing his chest.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits as the doors open and you two make your way down the hall to find your room. “Maybe I didn’t want Mark sharing a room with you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically, finally finding your room and inserting the room key. “You’re unbelievable, actually. Nothing would have happened with Mark, and there are two separate beds.”

As you step into the hotel room, you’re taken aback by the view and the modern decor, but something else makes you stop entirely in your tracks, Haechan bumping into your back before he can pass the narrow entryway to see what you’re seeing. 

“Well, I take that back.” you mumble, surprised, and Haechan splutters in horror.

“Something would have happened with Mark?!” he squawks, and you make an expression that he can’t see, face scrunched up in confusion and mild exasperation.

“What? No, Haechan.” you huff, pointing in front of you, and Haechan peers past you to see what you’re seeing.

“There’s only one bed.” he breathes, excitement creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but laugh.

“You little weirdo, why are you so okay with this?” you manage to get out through your incredulous laughter, and he smiles, setting your and his bags down before stepping closer and closer to you until you feel provoked to back up. He keeps advancing on you, smile growing as you retreat, until your legs hit the side of the bed and you plop down on your ass unexpectedly, looking up at him with confusion and a hint of panic.

“Because now,” he purrs, leaning over you so suddenly that you lean back, promptly flattening yourself on the bed as he braces himself over you with his hands on either side of your body, “I can do this,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. You squeal in surprise as he connects your lips, Haechan quickly building the intensity as he leans most of his body weight on you to keep you in place. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease, the wet, warm intruding muscle exploring your mouth like he just can’t get enough.

“Haechan,” you gasp out when he finally breaks the kiss, but your call falls on deaf ears as he kisses down your neck and lingers there, sucking and licking at various spots until he finds the one that makes you squirm. When you push at his chest, overwhelmed by the ticklish yet pleasurable sensation, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, pinning it up by your head.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos, separating from your neck long enough to hover over your face, looking you in the eyes with a small grin that you wish you didn’t find as attractive as you do. “Nervous to share a bed with me?”

“No,” you answer, probably too quickly to be convincing, and by the way Haechan’s smile grows, your suspicions are confirmed.

“Aw, baby… do I make you nervous?” he teases, and you huff, pushing at his chest with your free hand. He’s quick to restrain that one too, and you won’t lie: a thrill travels up your spine at him using his strength to overpower you. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and his eyes flash with delight.

“You’re not even gonna try to deny it?” he taunts, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against yours, urging your head up in anticipation for another kiss. “How cute.”

“You’re being mean,” you grumble, bucking your hips upwards to throw him off. He laughs and shakes his head in disagreement.

“Could never be mean to you, baby.” he murmurs, leaning back in for another kiss. “I just like playing with you.”

“Well, quit it; I wanna shower before bed.” you say with a pout, and he smiles down at you fondly, eyes dragging between your eyes and your lips. “What is that look in your eyes for?”

“You’re cute when you’re the whiny baby.” he points out, and your frown deepens, brows knitting together. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m gonna dote on you just like you dote on me.”

“I’m not a whiny baby.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why are you pouting?”

“I’m upset.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, “Is that so?”

“Why are you upset?” he muses, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “Because I’m pinning you down? Because I’m kissing you?”

“Because you’re teasing me.” you correct him, and he blinks at you before a knowing smile curls his lips.

“So you’re not upset that I’m pinning you down and kissing you?” he asks rhetorically, and you blanch, realizing you’ve backed yourself into a corner. “Mm, don’t worry, baby; when you get out of that shower, I’m gonna pin you down some more and kiss you over… and over… and over again.” he purrs against your lips, stealing a sudden, passionate kiss from you before sitting up and releasing you.

Your mind is dazed from his kisses and the onslaught of attention he’s just given you, and it takes you a moment to process that you should probably get up. Your delay doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, who grins widely.

“You like my kisses that much, huh? What about your shower?” he teases, and you huff, glaring at him before pushing yourself up to a sitting position. 

“I’m going,” you mumble, standing up and grabbing your toiletries bag before you make your way into the bathroom.

You’re rinsing off in the shower when the door opens, and you freeze as Haechan enters the room. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, gripping the shower curtain carefully to conceal yourself as you peer around it at him. “Nope! Nuh-uh. No.” 

He hesitates as he unbuckles his belt, looking up at you with a frown. “Why not?” he complains, and you wet your hand before flicking water at his face. He flinches back, eyes scrunching shut as he wipes his face and glares at you petulantly.

“What makes you think you can just get in my shower?” you ask incredulously, and he grins at you, brows raised suggestively.

“Aw, come on, baby,” he coaxes, stepping closer to the shower. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he reminds you. “Plus,” he adds with a cheeky wiggle of his brows, “I’d love to see it again.”

“Yeah, I bet you would,” you mutter. “But too bad! Get out!”

He narrows his eyes at you and opens the bathroom door, slinking out in defeat as he mutters something about the world being unfair.

“You’ll live,” you call after him.

“Will I?” he calls back, but the door shuts and when you peek out again, he’s nowhere to be found, leaving you to finish your shower in peace.

When you’ve finished with your nighttime routine, you crawl into the bed beside Haechan, who looks over at you from his phone. 

“Took you long enough,” he huffs. “You were in there for ages. I got lonely.” 

“Aww, did you miss me?” you coo teasingly, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

“Yes,” he grouches, and you beam.

“What was that?” you ask, tilting your head and putting your free hand behind your ear.

He rolls his eyes before setting his phone down on his stomach and glowering at you. “Yes, I missed you.”

“How cute.” you hum, releasing his cheek and lying on your back, unlocking your phone.

He shuffles closer to you and rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you check your social media, making sure your follower count is relatively the same as it was the day before, and you text back your PR manager, confirming the logistics of the music festival tomorrow.

“So that lady handles all your social media scandals?” he asks curiously, and you nod.

“I mean, I’ve never had a scandal, but if I did, she’d do damage control. She mostly organizes my promotional content and gets me cool deals and PR boxes.” you explain, and he hums thoughtfully.

“What’s a PR box?” he questions.

“It’s those boxes of, like, makeup or clothing, or products various brands want me to try.” you reply patiently, and he nods slowly in understanding.

“You know, I feel like you do a lot more work than I thought.” he observes, and you scoff.

“I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.” 

“I’m serious! I feel like you work really… really hard,” he says, his voice dropping ever so slightly in pitch.

“I do,” you agree. 

“You deserve a reward.” he decides, and you nod before it hits you that, knowing Haechan, he’s probably thinking of something entirely different.

Your suspicions, once again, are confirmed as one of his hands trails up your bare leg, stopping just before your sleep shorts.

“What are you doing?” 

“What does it feel like I’m doing? I’m touching you.” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your shoulder.

“I’m not dumb. Why are you touching me?”

“Well,” he muses, “like we just said, you work so hard… so you deserve a little treat.”

“Uh-huh,” you say skeptically. “And?”

“And…” Haechan trails off, making you look over at him. He’s looking down at the lump where his hand rests on your leg and you watch as he wets his lips slowly before looking up at you. “You look so good in your little pajamas.” 

“There it is,” you chuckle, and he joins you, fingers trailing further up your leg to slip ever so slightly under your shorts. 

“You really do look good, baby,” he purrs seductively, and you curse internally as you realize he’s bringing out the big guns. “And you smell good…”

“Okay, Haechan.” you say, patting his hand under the covers.

“Good enough to eat,” he grunts in your ear, and you squeal at the sensation, squirming away from him.

“Hey!” you yelp. “Get your hands off of me,” you huff, pushing at his fingers. “Don’t be yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.”

“But I love being yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty,” he chuckles, bringing his lips to your ear once more and holding you down as he brushes his lips against the inner parts of your ear. “It’s one of my favorite things to be.”

“One of?”

“It comes very close to being on top of you.” he answers with a grin and a flick of the tongue at your ear, and you scowl, pushing him back with a groan.

“Well, too bad,” you huff, but he persists, fingers slipping higher and higher still up your shorts until you could probably lift the covers and see his hand completely disappearing under the thin fabric, fingertips grazing your underwear-clad skin so lightly it almost tickles.

“Well, then; what do I do now?” he murmurs against the spot behind your earlobe, his words sending more ticklish vibrations down your spine, making you shudder involuntarily.

“Uh, gee, I don’t know…. stop?” you reply with a sarcastic roll of your eyes.

“What if I don’t want to?” he questions, leaning closer to you and trailing his lips from behind your ear to just a breath away from your lips. “What if I want to kiss you?”

“Too bad,” you mutter weakly, your resolve slipping due to a number of factors: his voice, the suggestive lilt to it, and the way his fingers are starting to trace slow lines up and down your slit, deliberately avoiding your clit.

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he coos, shifting his body entirely to climb on top of you. “Gimme a kiss. Just a little good night kiss.”

“You’re very persistent, you know that? Like a dog with a bone.”

“I like to call myself determined.” he replies easily, smiling as he leans in even closer to the point where you can feel his breath fanning over your lips. “Remember when I said if I want something, I get it?”

“Yeah?” you reply quietly, barely moving your mouth as you speak for fear even the slightest pucker of your lips would result in a kiss.

“What I want now,” he explains slowly, eyes trained on your lips even through his lowered eyelids, “is a kiss from the prettiest girl I know.”

You pause, thinking it over, and his smile widens as your brows furrow in frustration before your eyes roll and you sigh in defeat. Not needing to hear anything else, Haechan closes the gap, kissing your lips softly with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.

“I hate that that worked on me,” you groan against his lips, and he grins into the kiss.

“I love that it did.” he mumbles into your mouth. “Love kissing you, baby.”

“Mm, yeah?” you hum, running your hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he sighs dreamily. “Wanna kiss you everywhere,” he adds, connecting your lips again in a wet kiss that results in a soft smacking sound when you two part. 

“Everywhere?” you reply curiously, and he nods, starting to smile as his head moves lower and lower until it’s disappearing under the covers. “Where are you going?”

“Wanna kiss you here,” he mumbles against your stomach, hands lifting up the hem of your shirt to reveal your bare flesh. He does just that, kissing a path from under the bottom of your bra to the waistband of your shorts. “I really wanna kiss you here,” he growls softly, and you feel his nose and upper lip brush against your skin as he takes the waistband of your shorts in his teeth, pulling the elastic back before letting it snap against your skin.

You yelp in shock, and he laughs, kissing along where your stomach slightly stings from the contact as a wordless apology. He slips an arm under your leg, moving it to drape over his shoulder, and nuzzles his face into the seat of your underwear, another sound of surprise leaving you before it’s cut off with your moan as he groans into your concealed core.

“Pussy smells so good,” he mumbles, words dragging together as his nose nuzzles and rubs against your clothed clit. “You’re so wet, too—and you were really gonna try to convince me you didn’t want this?”

“Please shut up,” you say shakily, and he chuckles.

“Less talking, more licking?” he questions, and at your whine of frustration, he laughs, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it through the fabric. 

“Shit—” you hiss, attempting to squirm away, but he holds onto you firmly, pulling your underwear to the side and dragging his tongue up your slit. You can feel the wet warmth of his tongue gliding along your folds as well as his hot breath as he groans against your flesh, lewd sounds of sucking, slurping, and kissing filling the room as he sloppily makes out with your core. “Oh, my God,” you whimper when he focuses his tongue on your clit, alternating between swirling it around the bud, flicking it back and forth, and massaging it with the flat of his tongue.

“Tastes so good, baby.” he rasps, a rhythmic rustling sound catching your attention and piquing your curiosity. A glance down at where Haechan lies prone on the bed under the covers grants you the sight of his body moving, hips rutting into the bed as he tongues at your core feverishly with no signs of stopping. “Could eat this sweet pussy all night.”

“Please—” you start, words cutting off in favor of a gasp as he trails two fingers down your folds from your clit to your entrance that’s currently dripping arousal.

“Please, what? You want my tongue, hm? Or my fingers?” he murmurs, lips coated with a mix of his saliva and your arousal as he sucks noisily at your clit, the two fingers prodding at your entrance easing into you ever so slightly. You hiss loudly, fingers clutching the bed sheets as his mouth ravishes your core, his fingers pushing in deeper as he flicks his tongue over your clit rapidly.

“Feels so good,” you cry out weakly, and he nods vigorously into your core, fingers starting to pump in and out of you.

“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” he moans into you, tongue lapping at your clit, your folds, and around where his fingers keep slipping into you. “So fucking wet—”

“I–I’m close,” you stammer, and he hums contentedly, fingers speeding up and curling to massage your g-spot. Your nails scratch uselessly at the comforter on the bed, part of you wanting to lift the covers and watch as Haechan devours you with an unrestrained greed and a remarkable level of glee.

“Want you to cum,” he mumbles drunkenly against your clit. “Wanna feel it—wanna taste it—cum for me, baby, cum all over my face—”

Your back arches off of the bed as your abdomen tenses almost painfully, your climax spreading through you slow but thick like molasses in your bloodstream. You feel heavy and lightheaded all at once, a series of shaky breaths and moans of Haechan’s name leaving your lips as you try to compose yourself to no avail. 

Haechan doesn’t let up, free hand clutching your thigh and pulling you down further onto his face greedily, tongue ravenously delving in and out of your folds to taste the cum leaking from your core. Your breath catches in your throat with a sharp whimper, hips bucking up to meet his mouth even as the rest of your body squirms, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.

“Can’t—” you pant, pushing weakly at Haechan’s head over the covers. “You gotta stop—”

“‘M not done yet, baby.” he grunts, voice throaty and thick as he sucks your folds into his mouth. “Just a little bit longer—you can take it, right?”

“I—” you whine, not even sure what you were going to say once Haechan’s tongue connects with the underside of your clit. “Fuck!”

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes, gently pulling back the hood to your clit and licking at the exposed bud. You cry out loudly, and he moans in response, tongue speeding up in its actions. “Wanna cum one more time for me?”

“No—” you gasp, attempting to squirm away from him. It feels good, so unbelievably good, but you’re not sure if you can handle another climax right away without giving your poor, hypersensitive clit a break.

“I wasn’t actually asking,” he informs you, voice muffled as he presses his mouth to your entrance, his tongue joining his fingers and entering you, wet muscle flicking and licking and stroking until you’re climaxing again, your thighs closing around his head tightly as your hips buck upwards and your body trembles, muscles tensed, tight as a violin string.

This time, Haechan relents, slowly slipping his fingers and tongue from you and turns his head, kissing along your inner thighs before making his way back up to your face, where he kisses you deeply.

“Got you nice and ready,” Haechan murmurs with a smile, “so now you can take my cock.”

You don’t even have it in you to pretend to protest, instead nodding dazedly and gazing up at him expectantly with half-lidded eyes.

“Fuck, don’t give me those eyes unless you’re trying to go all night.” he warns you, and you blink slowly, trying to fix your face. Haechan pushes the covers off of his shoulders and sits up slightly, tugging his boxers down to let his erection spring free. He trails his fingers up your slit, chuckling when you jolt, and wraps the hand around his length, using your arousal as lubrication as he strokes himself, eyes on you the whole time. 

Finally, he aligns his tip with your entrance, pushing into you with a slow, fluid thrust that still manages to knock the wind out of your lungs.

“You feel that, baby?” he coos, taking your hand and pressing it to just below your stomach. As he drags his thick length in and out of you, you can feel him moving inside of you, a soft gasp of surprise leaving you at the realization. “Yeah, you’re taking me all the way in your pretty little pussy—doing such a good job—”

“Haechan,” you plead weakly, reaching for him with your free hand. He leans over you and grants your unspoken wish, molding his lips with yours and deepening the kiss immediately, sucking gently at your bottom lip. 

“Yeah, you like when I fuck you nice and deep like this, right?” he murmurs in a low voice, tongue slipping into your mouth to swirl around yours.

“Mm—yeah—” you barely manage to get out.

“Like feeling every inch of my cock deep in your little pussy, yeah?” he eggs you on, and the almost taunting edge to his words is inexplicably more arousing than you expected, your body now hopelessly hurtling towards yet another climax. “Fuck, baby, you just got so tight around me—your pretty pussy must really like me.” he remarks smugly, his unshakable confidence not helping you keep your composure.

“Wanna cum—Hae–chan, please—” you gasp, and he grins, kissing you again.

“Gonna cum too, baby, hold it for me for one second—I’m almost there—”

“Can’t hold it—”

“Yes, you can, baby, just a little more—”

“Haechan—” you moan, both a warning and an exclamation of pleasure.

“Cum, baby, let it go,” he grunts finally, and you do just that, the feeling of release so blissful it brings tears to your eyes. His thrusts slowly come to a stop as he pumps his load into you, his cum filling you practically to the brim—and then some, because a decent amount trickles out of you as he continues to lazily move his hips. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving as you wipe a stray tear as surreptitiously as possible.

“Are you crying?” he asks incredulously, brows raised in surprise. 

“Allergies,” you lie, and he shoots you a skeptical look.

“Sure, baby.” he chuckles, pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his boxers, and lying down beside you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask curiously as you spot Haechan’s arm moving to drape over your waist.

“Uh…” he stops short, caught red-handed, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“No cuddling.” you repeat the rule back to him, and he scowls at you before rolling his eyes. “Plus, we both need to shower now.”

“Wanna shower together?” he offers with a wiggle of his brows, and you chuckle.

“No.”

“Just evil, I swear.” he grouches, and you scoff in amusement.

“At least I’m not yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.” 

“You seemed to like how yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty I am when I had my tongue all over your pussy a couple of minutes ago.” he replies smugly, and you grimace, covering your ears.

“Can’t hear you! Go shower!”

He wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls it away from your ear, replacing it with his lips as he murmurs, “You can deny it all you want, but that pretty pussy wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Shower!”

“Fine,” he sighs loudly, climbing off the bed and walking to the bathroom. “You sure you don’t wanna shower together?” he tries one more time hopefully, and you grab the nearest pillow and chuck it at him.

“Shower! Now!”

“Just cruel and wicked and evil.” Haechan grumbles, picking the pillow up from the floor and tossing it back onto the bed. “Hate that it kinda turns me on.”

“Haechan, I swear to God—”

“I’m going!”

The following morning, you’re getting ready for the festival in Jihyo’s and Jiwoo’s room, much to Haechan’s dismay.

(“I just don’t get why you can’t get ready in here with me,” he’d complained, following you around as you gathered your makeup and various clothing options.

“Because,” you reply patiently, “Jihyo and Jiwoo are gonna help me figure out my makeup and my outfit.”

“I could help you with that!” he squawks indignantly, and you sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you turn to face him, placing a hand on your hip.

“Okay, Haechan; should I go with a warm-toned cut crease or a smoky eye look?” you ask, and you can practically watch as the gears in his head spin and overheat and eventually stop, Haechan frowning deeply at you.

“Okay, fine.” he mutters in defeat.

“I’ll see you downstairs before we head over to the festival.” you promise, and he grumbles indistinctly, brows furrowed together. You step forward and press a soft kiss to the space between his brows, watching as he relaxes slightly. “That’s better,” you remark, pleased. 

“One more kiss for the road?” he asks hopefully.

“Haechan, what road?”

“It’s an expression!”

“Fine,” you relent, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. He groans in delight and winds his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. One kiss turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into you peeling yourself off of a whining, grouchy Haechan and wiggling your fingers in a goodbye, blowing him a quick kiss before slipping out the door.)

As you do your eye makeup—the girls opted for a warm-toned smoky eye look, which is exactly what your outfit needed and the exact reason why you consulted them in the first place—Jihyo calls your name, making you meet her gaze in the vanity mirror.

“So, how was your night last night?” she asks curiously, but you know her too well; she’s never asking just to ask; there’s always an ulterior motive to her every move, and so you proceed with caution.

“Eh, it was fine. You know Haechan snores?” you remark lightly, and Jiwoo snorts.

“Was it loud?”

“No, I just had to roll him onto his side and he slept like a baby.” you explain, and Jihyo scans your face, no doubt searching for anything that could give you away. You remain calm and neutral, continuing to blend out your eyeshadow, and she finally relaxes, seemingly satisfied for now.

“What did you guys do all night? Jiwoo and I watched a movie.” Jihyo questions, and you turn to look at her.

“What movie? And you’d better not say anything I haven’t seen yet.” You point a finger at her accusingly, eyes narrowed playfully, and she snickers.

“We watched Aquaman.” she answers, and you gasp loudly. “You’ve seen that!”

“You let me miss out on a chance to see Jason Momoa all wet and muscular?! Do you even love me for real?” you wail, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically. “Oh, I could faint.”

“You’re overreacting—”

“The horror!”

“Girl, you’ve seen it—”

“The betrayal!” 

“I swear to God—”

“I may never forgive you, you know.”

“Oh, hush!” she finally laughs, joining in on your and Jiwoo’s giggling. “You’re too much.”

“You love me.” you pout, turning to look at her, and her features soften into a warm, fond smile.

“I really do.”

The festival is packed with hundreds of people, various vendors set up under tents to shelter from the sun, and the stage is huge, with a catwalk going down the middle of the platform.

“Holy shit, you guys.” Jiwoo exhales in awe, looking around at the scenery. “It’s so crowded.”

“There are snacks everywhere,” you sigh dreamily. “I’m in Heaven.”

“I can’t wait to try everything,” Renjun says excitedly, and Mark nods in agreement.

“Those churros are calling my name right now.” he groans, and you all follow after an almost entranced Mark as he makes his way through the crowd to get in line for the churros. 

As you wait, you realize that you rarely have to do your job in front of your friends, and the prospect of suddenly doing so makes you nervous. “I just wanna warn you guys that I need to film content while I’m here… that’s the whole reason we got to come.” you inform your friends, who nod or agree verbally.

“If you need help filming, I got you,” Jaemin offers, and you immediately nod, handing him your phone. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” you sigh in relief, taking his wrist and pulling him over to the next snack tent that catches your eye, the both of you unaware of Haechan’s disapproving gaze following you.

“You know, you’re spending a lot of time with Jaemin,” Haechan points out, and you blink at him slowly. 

“He’s my photographer.” you explain bluntly, and he makes a disapproving face.

“I could be your photographer,” he replies in a huff, and you roll your eyes.

“Are you as good at photography?” you ask, and he nods immediately, making you roll your eyes as you decide to call him on his bluff. “Okay, take this next photo for my Instagram.”

He sets up his position as he angles the phone towards you, and you make a cute pose, holding it until Haechan gives the okay to move.

“Done?” you ask, and he nods, presenting you with the screen proudly. You look over the photo and— “Haechan?”

“Yes?”

“How do I say this…” you wonder aloud before deciding to rip the bandaid off. “Your photos aren’t as good as Jaemin’s.”

“What?!” he exclaims incredulously, and you nod sympathetically with pursed lips.

“It’s blurrier.” you point out. 

“It’s not!”

“Haechan, I’m looking dead at it. It’s blurrier.” 

“Well—fine, I can be your creative director.” he suggests, nodding proudly, and you raise your eyebrows before just shrugging in defeat and nodding. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom—don’t film with Jaemin while I’m gone.” he warns you, and you wave him off dismissively, nodding.

When he disappears, it takes a minute for Jaemin to find his way back over to you, reaching for your camera and phone only to tilt his head in confusion when you deny him.

“Haechan wants us to wait for him to come back.” you explain, and he nods slowly.

“And why do we care what Haechan wants?” 

“Aw, don’t say that! He’s our friend!” you protest, and he raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, well, I’m your friend and I wanna film now.” he says, and you blink, conflicted. A knowing smile tugs at his lips and he steps closer, speaking more intentionally as he says, “I thought so. I’m gonna ask you again: why do we care what Haechan wants?”

Lost for words, you scan the crowd for an out, your salvation coming in the form of one of your favorite songs starting to play. “Ooh, I love this song! I’m gonna go dance,” you say, and Jaemin rolls his eyes with a smile before gesturing for you to join the group of dancing bodies.

The music consumes you as you move to the beat, and you’re swaying your hips with your eyes closed when two hands land on your hips. 

“Back from the bathroom already?” you chuckle, receiving no response. Shrugging, you continue to dance, it dawning on you a moment later that this is quite the compromising position to be caught in.

You turn to your left to make sure your friends aren’t watching, only for your heart to jolt with a lurch when you see Haechan standing a foot away from you with an affronted expression.

If that’s Haechan, then who’s behind you?

You turn around with a whirl, eyes wide, and your features contort into anger when you see some absolute schmuck of a stranger standing behind you. 

“And who the hell are you?” you ask, not caring how rude you sound.

“I’m Chad.” he says, grinning too widely.

“Right… and why are you dancing on me?” you question.

“I’m a fan of your content and I saw you dancing over here and, y’know, thought I’d take the opportunity.” he explains, and you blink at him for a moment.

“Well, thank you for liking my content.” you say sincerely, and he smiles, nodding. “Did you, um, come with anyone?”

“Yeah, I lost my friends a couple minutes ago… do you mind if I hang out with you until I find them?” he requests, rubbing the back of his neck, and you pause to think before shrugging reluctantly.

“I guess you can hang out with us,” you say finally, and he beams at you, jerking his chin at Haechan in a greeting Haechan doesn’t return, your friend still eyeing the newcomer suspiciously.

“Well, I’m gonna get some snacks…” you say carefully, eager to leave the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Let’s go,” Chad suggests, and you hold back a sigh, not looking forward to babysitting this stranger, but head to the fried dough tent regardless, deliberately giving Haechan a look that signals for him to follow you.

Of all the moments for Haechan to leave your side, of course he picks now when you actually need him. Chad follows you around like a lost puppy, poorly attempting to hit on you and even get you to leave with him at one point, and you wish you could see literally any of your friends right now, but especially Haechan.

“I love this song,” Chad says, tugging you closer as he attempts to dance with you. 

“I feel like I made it clear earlier that I don’t want to dance.” you say impatiently, and Chad frowns, the expression nowhere near as cute as when Haechan does it, pulling you closer and closer still. You’re debating smacking him, but you know that would be horrible for your image.

However, you may have spoken too soon about Haechan disappearing, as Haechan appears to your right, taking your hand and pulling you away from a confused Chad firmly. 

“Haechan,” you say breathlessly, never happier to see him. “Where are we going?”

“We need to go back to the hotel,” is his only reply as he pulls you through the mass of bodies at the festival, not caring one bit about the affronted glares and annoyed muttering under people’s breath as he pushes past them. 

“Haechan, you’re causing a disturbance,” you warn him as you two finally clear the crowd, and he stops in his tracks, whirling around to face you.

“I’ll drop my pants right now and show everyone a real disturbance when I fuck you right here.” he replies in a low, surprisingly serious voice, and you blink, stunned. “That sound good to you?”

“No,” you say quietly, surprised by the shift in his energy, and he nods curtly before turning back around and continuing to lead a much more cooperative you to, you presume, the hotel.

When you get to the hotel, Haechan has the decency to act natural, now leading you a bit more gently to the elevator. Once the doors open, though, all decorum is out the window, Haechan tugging you in and practically flinging you against the wall.

“Jesus, Haechan—” you gasp, but your words are muffled by his lips on yours.

“You’re mine, you know?” he grunts into the kiss. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

“What?” you ask, baffled. “Haechan, I thought that was you behind me!”

“Well, it was that weirdo and he kept flirting with you—pissed me all the way off.” His lips travel south to kiss your neck, but he’s rough with you—biting you, sucking hard at spots until you whimper, and finally he licks a stripe up from your collarbone to your jaw before turning your face towards his for another searing kiss, this one a mix of teeth and tongue as he molds his lips with yours feverishly. “I don’t like that freak touching you—”

“Neither did I—”

“I should be the only one touching you.” he ignores you as if you hadn’t spoken, sucking on your bottom lip harshly before pulling back and letting it slip back into place.

He pushes his hand into your shorts, nimble fingers finding your clothed clit with ease and stroking it teasingly as you cry out in surprise and pleasure.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he coos against your lips. “Don’t want anyone waiting for the elevator to hear you.”

His words remind you once more that you are, in fact, very much in a public elevator, and you gasp in surprise, pushing at his wrist inside your shorts. 

“Haechan, what if the doors open? What if someone sees—” you moan, a hint of panic in your voice, but it fades away when he presses harder against your clit and drops his head down to suck at your neck.

“Relax, we’re almost there,” he soothes your worries with another, slightly gentler kiss before returning to his task of sucking at various spots on your neck, teeth scraping over the heated skin before he’s pulling back as the elevator slows to a stop.

The doors open on your floor and Haechan takes your hand once more, not-so-gently pulling you after him to the hotel room. He pulls the room keycard out of his pocket and slips it into the slot, the small beep and clicking sound of the door unlocking prompting him to open the door and pull you inside. 

Yanking you into another kiss, he focuses on unbuttoning your shorts and backing you towards the bed. When the backs of your legs connect with the side of the bed, he pushes you onto the bed, leaving you bouncing on the bed slightly from the impact as he drops to his knees in front of you between your legs. 

“Fucking mine,” he growls under his breath, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your neck to your chest. He tugs your bra down so your breasts are practically spilling out, his lips on your skin immediately. He sucks at the flesh of your breast, swirling his tongue around your areola before focusing in on your nipple, sucking the bud between his lips as you moan and slide your fingers into his hair.

“What happened to ‘no jealousy?’” you tease lightly, and he pulls away from your nipple with an embarrassingly loud wet pop, glowering up at you.

“Fuck that right now,” he grumbles. “You didn’t even want him. I’m just reminding you that you could do so much better than him.”

“And you’re… the ‘better’ I could be doing, right?” you reply with a growing smile, and his eyes narrow at you.

“Don’t piss me off.” he mumbles, returning his lips to your nipple and sucking, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak. You arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest further into his face, and he takes the intrusion eagerly, pressing his face into your breast until his cheeks are smushed by either side of your breast. 

One hand gropes at your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh while occasionally drawing circles around your nipple to mimic the traces he’s making with his tongue on your other nipple. His free hand moves from beside you on the bed and slips back into your pants, this time pushing past your underwear and dragging two fingers up your folds, collecting the arousal and swirling it around your clit.

“Feels good,” you sigh blissfully, fingernails lightly scratching at his scalp, and he groans so lowly it could almost pass for a purr. 

“Yeah? Think he could do a better job?” Haechan huffs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Shut up about him,” you urge Haechan, and he sucks his teeth, pulling back from your nipple with one last flick before switching to the other one. His fingers dip into you, as if testing your readiness, and he sucks in a breath at how eagerly your core welcomes him in.

“So fucking wet for me, baby.” he teases, and you whine in anticipation, pushing your hips forward to push more of his fingers into you. “Wanna feel more, yeah?”

“More,” you pant, nodding eagerly, “please.”

“Anything for the pretty girl,” he coos, pushing his fingers in to the last knuckle and curling them, relishing your responding moan, before he starts to move them in and out.

“Fuck—feels so good—” you moan when he finds that sensitive patch along the inside of your walls that makes your breath hitch and your hips buck. 

“Pretty girl’s all mine, right?” he grunts, tongue lolling out to flick at your nipple, the wet muscle traveling over the bud repeatedly as his fingers pump in and out of you. 

“Yeah,” you whine, and he grins, leaning up to kiss you. He nips at your bottom lip playfully and you make a tiny, plaintive whimper that he coos affectionately at before your stomach starts to develop that telltale tightening feeling. “Mm—wanna cum—gonna cum—”

“Then cum, baby,” Haechan chuckles, fucking his fingers into you faster. “Who’s stopping you?”

His words send you over the edge and you free fall into an ocean of pleasure, warmth spreading through your body as you climax. Your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your walls clenching around his fingers and making him suck in a loud breath of surprise, his eyes glazing over with desire. 

He keeps moving his fingers in you until your body shudders subside, kissing at the corner of your mouth sweetly as you ride out your high. You’re prepared for him to take his fingers out of you, so it surprises you when he doesn’t, instead pressing your chest down until you’re lying on your back, his fingers gradually picking up the pace again.

“Wha—fuck, Haechan—” you swear, trying to squirm away from him. 

“Where you goin’, baby?” he chuckles, moving forward to follow you. “We’re not done here.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Spread those pretty legs for me.” he coaxes, kissing where your knees meet before trailing more, wetter kisses up your legs to right where your shorts end. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, granting you reprieve before hooking his fingers in your shorts and pulling them down off of your legs. He flings them behind himself, a soft muted thud sounding out somewhere behind him before he moves more onto the bed, lips attaching to your inner thigh to suck and lick at various patches of skin. “Gonna eat your pretty little pussy,” he grunts, pulling your underwear to the side, “and remind you there’s no one better than me.”

You refrain from telling him that you’re already quite aware of that, given that he’s made you cum every time without fail, because you don’t necessarily want to make him prove it again… and again… and again.

Your thoughts just about fly out of your head when he drags his tongue up your slit in a long, wet stripe and groans lewdly, the sound making heat rush to your face. He starts to lap at your core fervently, most certainly on some sort of mission as he massages the underside of your clit with his tongue. 

His fingers find their way back to your entrance, lips wrapping around your pulsing clit just as he slips two digits into you. You cry out at the pleasure, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he ravishes your poor sensitive core with his tongue and fingers. 

His eyes are closed at first, losing himself in the taste of you, and you can just barely see where his fingers keep disappearing into you. There are wet sounds coming from your core with every move he makes, but you don’t even have it in you to be properly embarrassed, your mind reeling with pleasure as he tends to you.

“Tastes so fucking good, baby.” he groans, making an obnoxiously loud slurping noise, and you whine, all the embarrassment you lacked before making its way to the surface of your cheeks as you flop back down, throwing an arm over your face. “No, no, no, look at me.” he urges, mouth still pressed to your core. “Want you to watch me eat your pussy.”

“Fuck,” you curse weakly, propping yourself back up to watch him. His eyes are open now, laser-focused on your face as he slurps and licks and messily makes out with your core. With every moan and reaction from you, his eyes light up with a blazing intensity and after some point, his resolve seems to snap as he surges forward, practically burying his face in between your legs and licking at your folds as his fingers rapidly piston into you. “Holy shit—gonna cum again—”

“Damn right, you’re gonna cum.” he mumbles against your clit. “Wanna taste it, baby, cum for me—cum all over my tongue—”

Your peak hits again, this one making you almost see stars when you shut your eyes, and your head drops back as a string of swears leave your lips. You get one good look at the wild, almost awestruck look in Haechan’s eyes as he watches you before your arms give out and you collapse onto the bed, eyes fluttering shut once more.

He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, detaching his lips from your clit with a wet pop, and you can feel him moving to kneel on the bed between your legs, his hands pressing down on either side of your head as he (probably—you wouldn’t know since your eyelids feel too heavy to move) watches you.

“You still with me, baby?” he chuckles, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

All you can manage is a weak nod, and his responding laugh is smug and dark, prompting you to laboriously open your eyes to look at him. He’s hovering over you, eyes roving over your body and your face with a greedy sort of hunger in his gaze before he sits up, the telltale sound of his pants opening alerting you to what’s to come.

“I’m with you,” you finally answer, voice hoarse and thick with desire, and he grins widely, the smile almost devious as he leans back over you with one hand by your head.

“Good—because we’re not done yet.” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows. It’s devastatingly handsome and your core clenches with need as he wets his lips and finishes opening his pants, pushing them down his thighs and pulling his boxers down to let his length spring free.

For a moment, he kneels there, watching you with dark eyes as he pumps his fist up and down his length.

“I wish you could see how pretty you look,” he grunts, leaning back to get a good look at you. “Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

Your cheeks blaze and you look away, flustered, but he turns your chin so you’re looking at him once more. 

“Look at me,” he urges breathlessly. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby—think you can do that for me?”

“Uh-huh—”

“Good girl.” he purrs, and the heat in your cheeks returns full force, as well as spreads to your core and inner thighs. “You ready?” he asks, bringing the tip of his length to your entrance. You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, poised to enter at a moment’s notice, and the thought thrills you, making you nod before you even realize what you’re doing.

He pushes into you slowly, making you gasp and push at his stomach. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just big, and you’re not as ready as you thought you were.

“Don’t run from it, baby.” he chuckles, voice throaty and deep as he pushes in more. The arm attached to your hand pressing against him bends and he grins, using the leeway to push in more. You let out a pathetic little moan as he slowly bottoms out in you, and he grins. “That’s right, baby, take it. Feel my cock nice and deep, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously. 

“Fits so nice and perfect—fuck, you feel so good, baby—” he groans before starting to pull out. He thrusts back in with a slow, fluid motion that makes your breath catch in your throat and gives you practically no time to recover, starting to rock his hips in and out with slow, smooth strokes that have your eyes rolling back.

When you cry out weakly and clap a hand over your mouth, he shakes his head with a teasing smile, starting to build up the pace.

“I want to hear you moan.” he urges. When a particularly well-placed thrust makes you whimper again, he frowns at you and yanks your hand from your mouth, pinning it beside your head. “Come on, pretty, you can do better than that.” he coaxes, reaching between you two with his free hand and massaging your clit in little circles that, when combined with his thrusts, make you swear loudly, a moan falling from your lips that makes him grin. “That’s more like it—sound so pretty, baby—”

He builds the pace even more, quick, powerful strokes into you making the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping on skin and the bed shifting fill the room as he effectively fucks you stupid, thoughtless words spilling from your lips.

“Right there—fuck, yes, there—”

“Here?” he teases, pressing down more firmly on your clit, and you nod, proceeding to babble more nonsense. You bite down on your lip, embarrassed by the noises you’re letting out, and he sucks his teeth. “Said I wanna hear you, right? Why are you biting your lip?”

“Too loud—it’s embarrassing,” you whine, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

“It’s you and me, baby,” he assures you against your lips. “Just you and me. Let me hear you.”

“Fuck, Haechan—please don’t stop—”

“That’s it, talk to me, baby,” he grunts, brows furrowing in concentration as he continues to fuck into you.

“Feels so good—you’re so good to me—”

“That’s right, baby—no one’s better than me—” he pants, and you shake your head in agreement.

“No, just you—”

“This is what you want, right? You don’t want losers like that guy—”

“Shut up about him—”

“You want me,” he asserts, and you nod with a mewl of pleasure. “That’s right, pretty, you’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agree breathlessly, and his responding smile is positively radiant. “You’re—mm—”

“I’m what, hm?” he coaxes, almost as if he knows what you’re about to say.

“You’re mine,” you gasp, and he nods vigorously, grinning from ear to ear.

“This is yours, baby—it’s all yours,” he promises, and you nod back, shallow breaths leaving you with every thrust. “Look at me, pretty girl,” he urges, and when you do, he puckers his lips at you in an air kiss. “What’s my name?”

“Hae—chan,” you whimper, and he beams at you, nodding encouragingly.

“Yes, baby, good girl—who’s doing this to you, hm? Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Haechan, you—” You’re sure you’re losing your mind with all the combined pleasure of his fingers, his length, and his words. “Fuck—gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum—”

“I am?” he wonders aloud with a teasing lilt to his voice. “I shouldn’t stop then, huh?”

“No,” you’re quick to reply, shaking your head with tears building in your eyes. The sounds of lovemaking are only getting louder, the soundscape consuming you as you start to succumb to the pleasure. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—wanna cum so bad, Haechan—”

“Then cum, baby—wanna feel you clench nice and tight around my cock—”

“Cum–ming—I’m cumming—” you whine, fingers clutching at the bed sheets as your orgasm takes over you. Your eyes rolling back into your head and your lids fluttering shut, your back alternates between arching and curling in on itself, your mind on the brink of ecstasy as he brings you to a powerful climax.

“God, baby, you’re sucking my cock in—what a greedy girl,” he teases, but there’s a strain to his voice that lets you know he’s close as well.

“Cum, Haechan—please, wanna feel it, want you to fill me—”

“Shit—” he curses loudly, his head dropping forward as his thrusts slow to a jerky stop before he’s bottoming out in you, balls pressed to your ass as he releases into you, your walls flexing around him rhythmically from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, milk my cock just like that��gonna give you every drop—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble mindlessly. “Want it—give it to me—”

“All yours, baby, all yours,” he promises as his length throbs inside of you. The two of you stay in that position, catching your breath for several moments, before he pulls out of you carefully, making you sigh in disappointment. “Don’t tell me you want more?” he jokes, and you shake your head immediately, certain you can’t handle another orgasm right now.

“No, it just—felt good.” you mumble shyly, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is much sweeter than the previous ones and you can practically feel his satisfaction through the lip lock as he slowly molds his lips with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a quick taste.

“There’s more where that came from, baby, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” he promises, and you’re surprised that genuine relief fills your insides. “Now—”

“Shut up.”

“But—you don’t even know what I was about to say!”

“I could tell by the tone of your voice,” you reply with a tired but amused smile.

“Oh, yeah? What was I gonna say?”

“Something about that dude.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle and a roll of your eyes. 

“Was just gonna say he definitely couldn’t do what I just did.”

“Most certainly could not. He couldn’t even dance.” you snicker, and he grins, satisfied with your answer.

“Good. Now that we’ve established that, do you wanna, um, go back?”

“No?” you reply, confused. “Are you crazy?”

“No, just trying to make sure I didn’t literally drag you away from a good time.”

“You didn’t,” you assure him, and he smiles, relieved. “Wanna order, like… room service or something?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” he agrees instantly, flopping down beside you on his stomach. You internally apologize to the room cleaning service for when they have to clean your cum-stained sheets, but thankfully, they’re white, so the evidence of your activities might remain a mystery to anyone beyond your room.

As Haechan starts scrolling through the online menu for room service food, you think back to the possessive behavior he just displayed and realize, to your surprise, you have no qualms about it—hell, you would even encourage it. 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you say, patting the back of his thigh before slowly climbing to your feet. You adjust your top and bra so your breasts aren’t exposed and shuffle to the bathroom, glad Haechan’s too engrossed in reading the food options to notice the way your legs are slightly trembling. When you get in the bathroom, however, you gasp loudly after you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror.

“What?” Haechan calls out, alarmed, and you poke your head out of the bathroom to glower at him. 

“Did you have to leave so many marks?” you complain, and he looks up from his phone, looking over the marks left on your neck and chest appreciatively.

“I did, actually.” he replies smugly, and you roll your eyes before shutting the door again before he can see the smile growing on your lips.

“Unbelievable.” you mutter through your smile, inspecting the love bites littered all over your skin. “How the hell am I gonna cover all of these up?”

Even as you tilt your head this way and that to get a good look at the damage Haechan inflicted on your skin, you can’t help but smile as you realize you don’t really mind all that much. 

In the morning, you wake up to Haechan draped over you, his arm and leg positioned over your body in such a way that any real attempts to get up would wake him as well. 

“Haechan,” you whisper, your morning voice hoarse. He doesn’t move. You try again. “Haechan.”

“Mm?” he grunts, still very much asleep, and you sigh loudly, moving his arm off of you. He whines and pulls you closer, putting his arm back where it was.

“Haechan.” you say, a seriousness to your voice that you know will get through his sleepy brain. Sure enough, his brow furrows as he opens his eyes, squinting at you sleepily. You ignore how delectable he looks right now with mussed up hair and puffy morning lips.

“What?” he groans, burying his face in your neck as he holds onto you.

“You’re breaking the rules.” you point out, flicking at his arm and leg trapping you in place.

“What rules?” he mumbles groggily, and you sigh, trying to hide your amusement and fondness at his sleepy confusion.

“Our rules,” you remind him, and he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “fuck the rules” before pressing his face into your neck and breathing in deeply. “No cuddling? Remember that?”

He shifts slightly, mumbling much more clearly now. “I’m not cuddling, I’m… huddling for warmth.”

“Haechan.” you say with a sigh, not buying it for a second.

“Mm?” he sounds mildly annoyed now, and you bite back a laugh.

“The heater is literally on, and you’re hot as fuck.”

Even in his half-awake state, the corners of his lips tug into a smirk. “Why, thank you.”

“No, you dolt, I’m talking about body temperature,” you reply with a hint of exasperation. “You’re very warm.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” he mutters, waving you off dismissively. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Not until you release me from your cuddling clutches.”

“Not happening.”

“So you admit you’re cuddling me right now.”

“If I say we’re cuddling,” he says, sounding significantly more awake, and you can’t help but notice that his morning voice is deeply arousing, his timbre significantly lower and deeper and even a bit raspy. “Will you go back to sleep?”

“No! We’re not supposed to do this.” you complain, and he props his head up to regard you with sleepy eyes and a deadpan gaze.

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“The cuddling. Am I hurting you?”

“Well—no,” you mumble, and he nods.

“Do you dislike it?” he asks, and you pause. “I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice still authoritative even in his drowsy state as he squeezes you slightly.

“No,” you admit quietly, and he smiles, pleased.

“Great. Now here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna lay your pretty little head back down and go back to sleep just like this.”

“Am I?”

“I could always fuck you until you pass out.” he offers, and you blink, not expecting that at all. At your stunned silence, he chuckles softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Sound good? Or would you rather go back to sleep on your own?”

“I’ll, um,” you mumble, “I’ll go back to sleep on my own.”

He smiles again, eyes closed as he nods and pats your side in approval. “Good girl. Good night.”

“It’s 9:46am,” you point out, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.

“Time is a social construct. Now go back to sleep and let me hold you, woman.”

“...Fine.” you mutter, settling back down in his arms, and he shifts closer, pecking your neck and up to your cheek slowly.

“Good night, baby,” he says again, and you heave a small little sigh of defeat.

“Good night, Haechan.” you reply, and he hums in satisfaction before laying his head back down and falling back asleep almost instantly.

As you listen to the heater whirring and Haechan’s soft breathing, you can’t help but wonder if he had a point when he sleepily told you, “Fuck the rules.”

Maybe the rules were a bit outdated, anyway, you think as you drift off to sleep, secretly relishing his secure hold and warmth radiating from his body. 

“This shit is hard,” Jiwoo complains after her fourth attempt to get the ball in the hole. “How does Tiger Woods do it?”

“It’ll remain a mystery for ages to come,” you sigh. “Whose idea was mini golf, anyway?”

“Mine,” Jihyo says with a frown, and you pause, rethinking your words.

“And what a great idea it was,” you assure her. “It’s fun, conveniently fifteen minutes away from the hotel, and it’s inexpensive! I just think I’d be having more fun if I was, like, good at it, y’know?”

“Want help lining up your shot?” Haechan offers, and you turn back to look at him, rolling your eyes slightly at his suggestively raised eyebrows and playful grin.

“Yeah, actually.” you say, beckoning him closer. He pushes his golf club into Renjun’s unsuspecting arms immediately and makes his way over to you, standing behind you. His hands fall to your hips as he gently moves you into the proper position, and they glide up your sides and down your arms until his hands are clasped over yours. 

“Damn, Haechan, way to grope our friend in front of my very eyes.” Mark remarks sarcastically.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haechan defends himself, huffing under his breath before returning his attention to you. “Plus, you like it, don’t you?” he coos in your ear, and you let out a flustered giggle, squirming away from his lips.

“Shut up,” you mumble with a smile, but it just seems to prove Haechan’s point, the cockiness radiating off of him in waves as he guides your arms to swing the club, the ball rolling down the green path before tipping over the edge and landing in the hole. You beam as you turn around to celebrate with Haechan, his arms already outstretched for a hug. You step into his embrace readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him as he sways you both from side to side.

“Not you two dry humping on the mini golf course,” Mark groans, gesturing at you in disbelief. “Have some respect for the Putt Putt Brothers!”

“First of all, how is a hug dry humping?” you start in on Mark, turning around with an accusatory pointed finger at him. “Second of all, that is not the name of this establishment, you nitwit.”

“Hey!” Mark yelps, clutching his chest defensively. “I was joking—”

“You’re joking now that I called you on it, huh?” you counter, raising your eyebrows, and Mark huffs, crossing his arms and muttering something about public indecency and the sanctity of friendships. When you turn back to Haechan, he’s watching you with intense intrigue, an impressed expression on his face. “What?” you ask, voice now devoid of any (playful) edge to it.

“That was pretty hot.” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes with a growing bashful smile. “No, really—kinda want you to snap at me like that.”

“Cause me mild to severe annoyance and my wrath is all yours,” you say, patting his chest twice with a playful smile before stepping out of his embrace. You’ve barely made it ten steps into your attempt to catch up to your friends before you whip back around to face Haechan once more. “I’m joking. Please don’t piss me off.” 

“I’ll try not to, but… you’re just so hot when you’re irritated.” he says with a shrug and a shameless grin, and you snort in amusement, looking over your shoulder to see that your friends are split between one course away from yours and the rest are at the drink bar, blissfully unaware of what you two are up to. 

“That’s an interesting kink of yours,” you muse. “Where’d you pick that up at?”

“Not you kinkshaming me?” he gasps. “And to think I trusted you.”

“Oh, hush. I said it was interesting.” 

“Interesting is code for weird.” he says with a frown, and you coo sympathetically, cupping his chin affectionately. 

“I just wanna understand it more,” you explain. “Like… a psychoanalysis.”

“You wanna be my shrink?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh, that’s hot.”

“I swear, you’re getting more fascinating by the minute.” you chuckle in disbelief.

“Can I put my head in your lap and tell you all my troubles while you play with my hair?” he sighs hopefully, and you blink, stunned. 

“You think you’re allowed to put your head in the lap of a shrink?”

“Well, no, but you’re not just any shrink, y’know? You’re my sexy shrink.” he says with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, and you exhale loudly through your nose in surprised amusement.

“And what does your sexy shrink do, hm? What’s in the job description?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in sarcastic curiosity.

“You, my sexy shrink, let me put my head in your lap—”

“We got that one.” you interject, but he carries on like you haven’t spoken.

“And play with my hair, and, y’know, if I’m in need of a little… sexual therapy, then you’re there.” 

You stare at him blankly. “I can’t believe you really stood there and made that up.” 

He shrugs casually. “Off the dome, baby; off the dome.”

“Yeah, a hollow ass dome,” you chuckle, and he gasps.

“Hollow?!” he squawks indignantly, and you nod, grinning gleefully.

You bring a knuckle to his forehead and knock gently. “Thunk, thunk.”

“You’re so mean,” Haechan huffs.

“Yet you’re hard.” you say with a roll of your eyes, but you’re confused when Haechan looks at you with restrained panic. “What is it?”

“You can see it?” he asks worriedly. 

You blink in confusion, gaze drifting downwards and—”Haechan, you’re joking.” 

“I wish I could joke about this.” he laments, and you start to giggle, clapping a hand over your mouth. “It’s not funny!”

“It very much is funny, actually—you stood here daydreaming about me being your sexy shrink and you popped a boner.” you snicker, and he scowls at you, not a shred of malice in his gaze to back it up.

“Can you stop laughing and help me?” he pleads, and you splutter in confusion.

“And how am I going to help you? I’m not sneaking off with you!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper, and he frowns deeply, eyes pleading with you. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Baby, please?” he mumbles, and you’re ashamed to admit that all your resolve just crumbled at the sound of his voice cracking slightly towards the end.

“Do you guys ever wonder what those two get up to when they disappear?” Mark asks, and there’s a moment of silence.

“Briefly, yeah, but I don’t like to dwell on it,” Renjun answers with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“They’re kinda cute together, no?” Jihyo hums thoughtfully, and Jaemin shrugs.

“Little bit, actually. I have to agree.” Jaemin adds with a wise nod. 

“Not to get sentimental, but do you guys remember when we, like, all hung out for the first time?” Jiwoo thinks aloud.

“Because we kept hearing about each other through each other but we’d never had us all together in one room… so Jaemin crashed out and made us hang out.”

“I did not crash out! I just tracked everyone down and made a group chat and guilt tripped all of you into coming.” Jaemin answers defensively.

“Admitting to the guilt tripping years later is wild.” Mark chuckles.

“I’m not ashamed.” Jaemin says with a shrug. “I’d do it again.”

“That’s all well and good, but back to what I was saying,” Jiwoo butts in. “We probably should have anticipated those two disappearing frequently in the future because they kept sneaking off together that day!” 

“They really did, didn’t they? There are so many times where they’re just… nowhere to be found.” Jeno remarks curiously.

“It’s their thing,” Jihyo remarks protectively. “Let them do their thing.”

“It’s probably Haechan’s doing,” Jeno muses. “Probably drags the poor girl off to fuck around and do Lord knows what.”

“Oh, please, you know she likes to wander.” Jiwoo points out. “She probably gets restless and starts to roam, and Haechan—”

“Would follow her off a cliff without her even asking.” Renjun chuckles.

“Exactly.” Jaemin agrees. “So it’s both of them.”

“Should we tell them we know?” Mark wonders, and Jihyo rolls her eyes, placing a hand on her hip.

“Let them figure out whatever the hell is going on between them first? Besides, I don’t see the appeal in forcibly bearing witness to their weird little relationship.” she replies, and Mark nods thoughtfully.

“Good point, good point… so we don’t say anything? We just…” Mark trails off.

“Let them do their thing.” Jihyo finishes, and Mark nods with a shrug.

“I guess.”

One rushed and hushed orgasm later, you and Haechan are back on the scene with your friends, all of you laughing at Renjun’s failed attempt to get the ball in the hole while staying under par when you feel a set of eyes on you. Your skin crawls as you look around, finally making eye contact with the guy from the festival from yesterday, and he grins at you, his smile still eerily wide and eager. 

“Oh, brother.” you sigh, offering him a tiny, very fake smile before returning your attention to your friends. 

“What’s wrong?” Jiwoo asks, stepping closer to you and speaking lowly. “Everything alright?”

“It’s that weirdo from yesterday—Chad.” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s here.”

“Ew.”

“Right?” 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think he’s coming over here.” she says carefully, and you look around for Haechan instantly, your heart dropping when he’s nowhere in sight.

“I’m gonna disappear for a minute,” you say as surreptitiously as possible, and she nods, squeezing your hand gently.

“Be safe, okay? Anything happens, just scream and we’ll come running.” she promises, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Will do. Thanks, girl.” you say gratefully, walking off quickly. 

“Hey, wait up!” you hear Chad say, and you sigh internally before turning around and looking at him with raised eyebrows. “How are you?” he says when he finally catches up to you. 

“I’m alright; you?” you say politely, and he shrugs, flashing that wolfish grin again.

“I’m great now that I’m seeing you.” he replies and you’re sure that would have worked if, say, Haechan had said it, but you find yourself fighting back a grimace.

“Cool.” you say shortly, smiling politely before turning to leave.

“Wait!” he calls out, and you blink hard before turning back around. “I got you a drink.” He thrusts the cup at you, and you eye it suspiciously.

“I’m okay, actually.” you tell him, patting his hand before pushing the cup back at him.

His brows knit together and he shakes his head. “No, really, I insist.”

You contemplate just taking the drink to be polite, but you really don’t like the glint in his eye like he’s planning something, and it gives you a sinking feeling that he may have done something to the drink.

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Really.”

“Come on, I got a drink just for you and you won’t even try it?”

“Listen—Charlie—”

“Chad,” he corrects you, and you pause, nodding.

“My bad. I don’t want the drink. I’m actually, uh, all full of drinks and was heading to the bathroom. So… I’m gonna go do that.” you inform him, and a scowl passes over his face for half a second but you catch it all the same.

“It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” he says with an unnerving smile, setting it on the countertop by where you’re standing. 

“I just said I don’t want it.” you say flatly, losing your patience rapidly.

“And I said it’ll be waiting for you.” he counters, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Yeah, alright.” you mutter, shooting him a passive aggressive thumbs up and a smile that definitely does not reach your eyes. “See ya.” 

When you exit the bathroom, you look around to see if Chad is anywhere nearby, and sigh in relief when you see that he’s not.

To your relief, you spot Haechan’s back at the drinks stand and walk over to him. As you do, you pass the drink Chad left for you and promptly smack the cup, knocking it and its contents onto the grass.

“Whoops.” you mumble sarcastically, picking up the cup and tossing it in the nearest garbage before continuing your walk to Haechan. He turns when you call his name, smiling widely as you give him a small wave. “Hey,” you finally say when you make it to him.

“Hey,” he says with a small grin. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah, actually, I’d love one.” you answer, smiling back at him. 

“Pick what you want, baby.” he offers, gesturing at the menu. You peruse it carefully and decide to go with a virgin piña colada, telling the bartender your selection. “Good choice,” he praises, and you smile at him warmly.

“Thanks.” you say with a giggle, the smile slipping off your face when you spot Chad off to the side in the distance. He hasn’t seen you just yet, and you’d like to keep it that way. “Hey, Haechan?” you call quietly, tugging at the side of his shirt. He turns around immediately, brows furrowed at the concern in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” he responds, voice low as he scans your face. “You okay?”

“Not really,” you answer honestly, and his brows knit together even more.

“What happened?”

“Remember that guy from yesterday? At the music festival?” you say, and irritation flashes across his face for a moment before it’s gone, his clenched jaw the only reminder that it was there. “Well, he’s here, and he’s bothering me.”

“Where is he?” Haechan says without a moment of hesitation, looking over you and around the course, and you cup his face and turn his head back to face yours.

“I don’t want you to fight him,” you chuckle softly, and he cracks a small smile at your laugh, nodding in understanding. “I need a favor from you.”

“Anything,” he agrees instantly, and you can’t help but laugh again, endeared by how willing he is to help you.

“Can you… pretend to be my boyfriend? So he’ll leave me alone?” you request hopefully, and he nods readily, pausing to think for a moment.

“How far do you want me to go?” he asks curiously, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s excitement creeping into his voice.

“As far as you need to go to sell it.” you answer with a shrug, and he grins.

“Copy that.”

You’re walking to the next course with Haechan several feet behind the rest of your friends, his fingers wrapped around yours protectively, when his grip tightens slightly out of nowhere. When you look around, confused, Haechan moves to stand in front of you, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes.

“He’s right over there,” he murmurs urgently. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he warns you, and you nod, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He leans in and connects your lips in a kiss so casually possessive that it makes your head spin. He clutches at your waist, pulling you up against him as he moves his lips against yours fervently. When you whimper faintly into the kiss, he groans and pulls back ever so slightly, mumbling, “Better keep a handle on those cute little noises before I take you back to the hotel.”

“If that guy sticks around, maybe you should.” you hum invitingly, and he chuckles darkly, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“What did I say about tempting me?” he says softly, nose nuzzling against your own. You feel the guy’s eyes on you as he passes by and, as if he can sense it, Haechan pulls you into another kiss, this one markedly more heated and handsy than the first. One hand slides down the small of your back and caresses where your asscheek meets your thigh, his lips parting from yours as he kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking with a hint of possessiveness to his actions. “Mine,” he speaks against your skin, and goosebumps erupt on your arms as you swallow thickly.

There’s no way he said that loudly enough for the guy to hear, and it hits you that he might not have even had the man in mind when he said it, and now hope, along with excitement, blooms in your chest.

“Yeah? Yours?” you ask softly, and he kisses back up to your lips, capturing them in a slow, nasty kiss complete with his tongue pushing into your mouth and stroking at your own. When you gently suck on his tongue, he grunts, the sound filled with surprise and desire as he pulls back slowly to look you in the eyes.

“You’re a tease.” he breathes, a warning undertone to his voice, and you shake your head in disagreement. “No? You’re not? Then what was that just now?”

“That was me telling you,” you say as you pull him closer and bring your lips to his ear, “that I want you to take me back to the hotel room.”

He stiffens in surprise, and pulls back to look at you, searching your face for any signs of a joke. When you nod encouragingly, he grins widely, looping his fingers around yours once more and tugging you towards your friends. 

“I don’t feel well,” you lie, frowning at Jihyo. “I wanna go back to the hotel and lie down for a bit.”

“Oh, no,” Jihyo coos, walking over to you and placing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You do feel a little warm,” she remarks worriedly, and you thank Haechan’s kissing skills for the slight feverish effect they’ve had on you. “Are you gonna go alone?” she asks, concerned, and Haechan shakes his head.

“I’m gonna take her back,” he tells her, and she nods, satisfied. 

“Okay, well—feel better, babe,” she says sincerely, and you nod, smiling feebly.

“I’ll try.” 

As you two walk away and are out of sight of your friends, Haechan slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple.

“You feel a little warm, huh?” he teases. “Maybe you should take some of those clothes off when we get back.”

“Mm, I feel so weak,” you sigh dramatically, looking up at him through your lashes. “Will you help me?”

He stops short, looking at you with incredulity and gradually building delight in his eyes, before stammering, “I—well—yes, hell, yes—how far are we from the hotel? Wanna take an Uber?”

“Yeah,” you hum, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing. “I’m just… so hot.” 

“Hell yeah, you are, baby.” he mumbles distractedly as he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and opens the Uber app. 

Once the Uber is booked, Haechan sits on a bench on the sidewalk, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. 

It dawns on you several moments later that the guy you’ve been avoiding is probably long gone, and you wonder if Haechan has noticed the same, the male seemingly committed to keeping up the role of your affectionate boyfriend.

You think on it for a moment, pondering how good his arms feel around you and how soft his lips are when he kisses you, and decide two things: one, you won’t remind him just yet, and two, that you hope Haechan never realizes his fake boyfriend duties are (probably) no longer needed.

With this new decision comes a realization: you like Haechan far more than you thought you did in the beginning, and as Haechan nuzzles into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss, you wish he meant it with all the romantic intent and none of the casualness. 

Today, the eight of you are at the local Fire Island zoo, walking around the exhibits and you’re having a great time; that is, until you’re stopping in the middle of the path to take a photo of the wildlife, your friends continuing on, and you feel two arms wrapping around your waist from behind and Haechan’s chin on your shoulder.

“Haechan,” you murmur, trying not to draw the attention of your friends a few feet ahead of you.

“Mm, yes?” he hums, nose in your hair by your neck. 

“You’re breaking the rules, like, real bad right now.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“And what rule am I guilty of breaking?” he murmurs against your neck, and you squirm, turning around to face him. He never lets go of you, so your turn to face him is more of a shuffle-pivot as you remain trapped in his embrace.

“No PDA!” you remind him in a whisper, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I’m protecting you.” he says into your neck, smiling against your skin, and you whine weakly under your breath, head tilting back subconsciously to allow him better access.

“From what?” you ask, confused.

“That creep from before,” he answers, his grip tightening on you for a second as he recalls the incident. “The one that tried to dance on you and take you home—what if he’s here? Lurking in the shadows?”

You snort in amusement, casting a glance over your shoulder to see that your friends have yet to notice you and Haechan significantly farther behind them. With a small sigh of relief, you turn your head back to face Haechan, who’s since lifted his head from your neck and is now looking down at you intently.

“So your holding onto me and your not-very-subtle neck kisses… are your ways of protecting me?”

“Yes.” 

“Even though the creep from yesterday has yet to be seen in this location today?”

“Mhm.”

“And there’s nothing in it for you?”

“Nope.” 

“Nothing at all?”

“I’m just doing my due diligence as your appointed fake boyfriend.” he says smoothly, and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. The two of you engage in a brief staredown, where you’re trying to get him to crack and he sticks firmly to his guns. It’s an unshakable conundrum and you realize fairly quickly that he’s not going to break.

“Sure you are.” you say finally with a roll of your eyes.

“Plus,” Haechan says, pulling you a little closer with a sudden tug, “don’t act like you don’t like it.” 

“So if this is purely a business transaction—the fulfillment of a contract, so to speak—”

“Uh-huh.”

“You won’t mind if I terminate the deal?” you say with a coy tilt of your head, satisfaction flooding your system when his face falls ever so slightly.

“Uh… but what if he shows up again?”

“We can renegotiate.” you say with a wry smile.

“...Fine.” he grumbles, releasing you, and you smile, pleased with yourself, but inside you’re surprised to find a hint of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

“Good. Now come on, we’re, like, miles behind them.” you urge him, turning to rush through the crowds of people. 

Haechan’s hand slips into your own and you look back in surprise to see him smiling innocently at you.

“So we don’t get separated.” he says, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously, looking down at his hand wrapped around yours and up at his guiltless expression and back down at your hands before you sigh in defeat. 

“Come on.” you relent, pulling him after you as you speed walk to catch up to your friends.

Haechan seems determined to test you today—whether it’s your patience or your resolve, you have yet to find out, but he is most certainly putting you through a series of trials on this zoo outing. You’re in line for the petting zoo, and you’re minding your business when you feel a hand slip into yours. You look over to see Haechan casually standing next to you, looking around innocently.

“Haechan.” you murmur surreptitiously. 

“Yes?”

“Why are you holding my hand?” you ask, continuing as he opens his mouth to speak, “And don’t say it’s so we don’t get separated, because we’re standing still. In line.”

“My hand is cold.” he says, and you turn to look at him, blinking impassively.

“You know I can feel your hand, right?”

“Does it feel good?”

“Ignoring that. Your hand is warm—very warm, actually.” you say flatly.

“It feels cold to me.” 

“So you have a fever and should go back to the hotel and rest?” you say, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“No!”

“So you’re fine and your hand is at normal temperature? So you lied? Or did you make a miraculous recovery? Should I call CNN?” you continue, and he glowers at you.

“Can’t I just hold your hand without all the questions?”

“Well, no.” you say, looking at him like he’s dumb. “On account of those rules we set.”

“Rules this, rules that,” Haechan grumbles, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe some rules were meant to be broken.”

“Wh–What?” you say, baffled. “That makes no sense—why would rules be made in the first place if they’re just meant to be broken? They make rules so people don’t break them, you little scoff-law, you.”

“Wasn’t aware I was messing around with a goody two-shoes,” Haechan drawls in response, and you splutter indignantly.

“I’m not a goody two-shoes,” you huff.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” you gripe back, turning on your heel as the line moves up, You move to walk ahead, but Haechan holds on fast to your hand, essentially tethering you to him as you attempt to pull him forward with you and he digs his heels in the sand, so to speak. When you growl to yourself in frustration, he tugs you towards him, your legs giving way to his pulling easily. “What, Haechan?” you complain as you find yourself in his embrace once more.

“You’re not a goody two-shoes, right?” he reminds you, and you furrow your brows in confusion, nodding slowly.

“Right.”

He peeks over your shoulder, presumably to see if your friends are looking, before returning his gaze to you, shooting you a devastatingly handsome playful grin. “So kiss me.”

“What?! No!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? We just established the creep from yesterday isn’t around,” you remind him, “and we ended the fake relationship contract. So are you asking me to kiss you as Haechan, my previously employed fake boyfriend, or Haechan, my friend in public?”

“I’m asking you to kiss me as Haechan, your friend in public who just really wants to kiss you right now.” he murmurs urgently, and you blink in surprise. 

“Why?”

“Why not? You look good as hell today, and it’s not a crime to want to kiss a pretty girl.”

“Wh—but—our friends are, like, a handful of feet away!” you protest weakly, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.

“They’re too far ahead in line,” he explains. “They can’t see us back here. But just to be safe,” Haechan says, angling your bodies in such a way that they’re partially concealed by one of the metal pillars holding up the overhead structure above your heads. “Now they definitely can’t see us.” He looks down at you, that frustratingly alluring grin back on his face as he leans closer, invading your space teasingly, before murmuring. “So kiss me.”

You nibble your bottom lip nervously, leaning upwards slightly to peek over his shoulder at your friends. Satisfied when you’re greeted with the sight of their backs completely turned and unaware, you rock back down onto your heels and grip the front of Haechan’s shirt, pulling him down to you for a quick kiss.

He smiles against your lips and tugs you closer, deepening the kiss slightly as he sucks gently at your bottom lip. 

When you two part with a muted wet sound, your cheeks are blazing with heat, and Haechan has perhaps the most smug grin you’ve ever seen anyone sport… well, ever.

“Now was that so hard?” he coos, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Let’s go catch up,” he says, releasing your waist but lacing his fingers with yours. 

As Haechan leads you to your friends once more, you can’t help but attempt to rationalize the situation, feeling more than a little frustration when all that comes to mind are a slew of questions you don’t know how to answer..

Is he holding your hand and kissing you in public because he likes you, or is he just feeling frisky and affectionate? Is he developing feelings for you, or is he just getting too comfortable? Are the rules you two established actually dumb, or have the circumstances just outgrown them? What exactly even are the circumstances between you and Haechan? Does he have a different perception of what’s going on? Is there something he’s not telling you?

Are you distancing yourself because you’re trying to keep things casual, or do you have feelings for him?

The last question makes you pause, brows knitted together in thought. Do you have feelings for Haechan?

When you truly think about it, you realize that not only do you, not only that you did in the first place, but also that you must have always had feelings for him, because you know good and well you wouldn’t agree to being friends with benefits if you didn’t have an iota of something for him. 

Haechan takes you out of your spiral of questions with no answers by gently smoothing out the space between your eyebrows, his hand dropping slightly to caress your cheek. 

“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his handsome features. “Was it too much to ask you to kiss me just now?” 

“No,” you assure him. “I’m okay—and it wasn’t too much.”

“You sure?” he presses gently, and you’re not sure which question he’s referring to, but you know you don’t want to answer the first and open that can of worms, so you resort to only addressing the second question.

“It was kinda hot,” you confess, and he raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised and just a bit skeptical.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda like when you make me do stuff.” you admit sheepishly. 

Haechan’s lips twitch, the male in front of you fighting back a smile as he continues to watch you suspiciously. “You’re not just saying that to distract me from how you’re feeling?”

You wish for a moment that he wasn’t as perceptive as he is.

“I mean everything I just said,” you assure him, and his lips stretch into a smile.

“I should boss you around more often then, huh?” he says with a flirtatious wiggle of his brows.

“Oh, hush.”

“No, really. Since apparently it gets you all hot and stuff.” he continues, leaning in to murmur in your ear. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“You are a menace to society, but most importantly, you are a menace to me.” you sigh, and he laughs.

“You signed up for this roller coaster, baby. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

You squint at him. “What cheesy old movie did you steal that from?”

“Hey! That was pretty smooth!”

“If it was smooth—which it wasn’t—it would now be significantly less smooth given the fact that you were trying way too hard to be smooth in the first place.”

“You’re mean.”

“You like it.”

“Yeah, I do.” he sighs dreamily, looking at you with such a tenderness behind his eyes that it almost makes your knees weak. “I really do.”

“I don’t know how to prove it, but I feel like Haechan’s cheating.” Jaemin huffs as​​ the “Perfect Score!” screen appears on Haechan’s playthrough of Michael Jackson: The Experience on the Wii. 

“Never that,” Haechan boasts. “I’m just better than you.”

“And so humble, too,” you joke sarcastically, making Jeno snort. 

“Hey—when Haechan finishes his power trip, can we play Mario Kart?” Mark asks hopefully, and various utterings of assent sound out from around the room.

“I’m not on a power trip! I’m just insanely skilled at this.” Haechan defends himself, glowering at Mark as “Do You Remember the Time” starts playing. “Now, hush, it’s my encore.”

You watch with fascination as Haechan nails the choreography and are only a little bit surprised when you realize that he looks incredibly attractive right now.

“He’s got a home advantage,” Jaemin gripes, crossing his arms. 

You look at him in confusion. “This is my house.”

“No, like, with Michael Jackson; he was probably raised on this game.” Mark sighs.

“I may have played it almost every day after school.” Haechan admits sheepishly, and Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark jeer in distaste.

“Cheater! Yo, get this fool out of here!” Mark complains, and you whack Mark with a nearby pillow, making him splutter and Haechan laugh. His smile is radiant, tanned skin glistening with sweat and hair messy in all the right ways, and you find yourself swooning internally.

“Thanks for having my back,” Haechan says appreciatively, and you nod with a sweet smile.

“Anytime."

As the song ends, Haechan relinquishes the controls to Mark and sits down next to you, breathing heavily. It doesn’t dawn on you that you’re still watching Haechan until he looks over at you and grins flirtatiously, flicking his eyebrows upward as he watches you.

“You like what you see?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and you, in a daze, nod. His eyebrows raise once more in surprise and he slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do you, now?”

“Careful—” you mumble, and he sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes.

“Who cares?” he murmurs in your ear. “Let them see.”

“No,” you protest weakly, but he shushes you, lips grazing along your ear before sliding down to behind your earlobe. 

“Not you two cuddled up on the couch like lovers,” Jihyo calls out from across the room, and you freeze as your friends turn to look at you and Haechan.

“I’m feeling cuddly and she’s right here… perfect for cuddling.” Haechan replies with a shrug and a nuzzle into your neck. “Friends can cuddle.”

“Not like that, they can’t,” Renjun counters, and Haechan glowers at him.

“Just because you don’t like cuddling doesn’t mean it’s unnatural and weird.” he retorts, and you nod in agreement.

“Cuddling never hurt anyone,” you back Haechan up, and Renjun rolls his eyes.

“Great, now they’re on the same side again.” he laments, and Haechan grins at you.

“We make a good team.” he coos at you, and you roll your eyes with a smile, trying to fight down the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Wanna team up again to fight for Chinese food for dinner?” you ask hopefully, and he scans your face slowly before a smile curls his lips.

“I’d be honored.”

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen washing your dish when you hear familiar footsteps shuffling into the room. You don’t turn to see who it is, your hypothesis proven when Haechan sighs loudly in an obvious attempt to get your attention.

“Yes, Haechan?” you chuckle, and he shuffles closer to you, standing beside you and watching as you wash the bowl in the sink.

“Why’d you leave?” he whines, his arm brushing against yours slightly.

“I had to wash my dish now or I was never going to do it.” you sigh, and he snickers, moving from beside you to stand right behind you.

“Well, are you almost done?” he asks hopefully, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck. “I miss you.” he mumbles against your skin, and the heartfelt words combined with his lips brushing against your neck practically make your knees buckle.

“I mean, I’m rinsing it now,” you say slowly, “so, yes, I’m almost done. And I missed you too.” 

“Mm, really?” he muses, pressing a soft kiss to your neck that makes you fight back the urge to squirm, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses another kiss to your neck in the exact same spot.

“Yes, really.” you mumble, trying to control yourself and not make any sort of noise or reaction that could spur him on further or blow your cover.

“Good. You smell really good,” he groans, breathing in deeply against your neck, and you can’t hide the small shiver that travels down your spine. He presses his spit-slicked lips to your neck, parting them to suck gently at the skin as you curl your fingers up in the dish cloth and bite back a whine. “So… fucking good.”

“You’re breaking the ‘no PDA’ rule. Again.” you point out, and he growls under his breath, shaking you slightly.

“No one’s even in here but us, so it’s private, not public. Now, shut up—you know you like it.” he huffs against your neck, leaving wet kisses down from your ear to your shoulder. 

“No way you’re trying to have sex right now.” you scoff incredulously.

“I’m truly not,” he promises you. “I just want to be close to you.”

“Oh.” you say softly, his words warming your heart. 

“Is that okay with you?” he asks, a hint of sass in his voice.

“Yeah, that’s okay with me.” you agree, and he smiles.

“Great.” he mumbles, sucking and licking at the base of your neck.

You’re so caught up in the mind-reeling sensation of Haechan kissing your neck and his earnest words that send you spiraling with a flurry of questions—like if this is still just something casual to him—that you don’t hear another set of footsteps heading towards the kitchen until Jihyo’s clearing her throat pointedly and you flinch. 

Haechan holds onto you still, lips still working away at your neck, as Jihyo raises an eyebrow expectantly and your cheeks blossom with heat.

“You know what?” Jihyo says, leaning against the doorway. “I’m not even mad, because I feel like I knew all along that you two were up to something.”

“Haechan, cut it out,” you whisper insistently. “I’ll be in the living room in a second.”

He sighs and reluctantly detaches himself from you, lips leaving your neck with a wet smacking noise that makes the heat in your face blaze even hotter, before exiting the kitchen with a sheepish grin at Jihyo.

It’s quiet for a moment as you dry your hands off with a paper towel, until Jihyo speaks.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing.” she says gently, and you pause, thinking over your next words carefully before deciding that honesty might just be the best policy.

“Gonna be real with you? I don’t.” you admit. “I’m just in it for the ride; we have fun together.”

Her brows could not possibly be closer to her hairline, skepticism written all over her face before she sighs and shrugs reluctantly. “Copy that, I guess.” She pushes off of the doorway and offers you her hand, jerking her head back towards the living room where you can hear the sounds of laughter and casual chatting. “You coming?”

You smile and take her hand, relieved she decided to let you be. “I’m coming.”

“I landed on your property and you charged me, but she landed on it and you didn’t charge her anything?!” Renjun squawks indignantly when Haechan gives you a pass.

“Well, yes. You’re mean to me.” Haechan responds like it’s obvious, and Renjun grumbles something under his breath about favoritism and unfair advantages.

“Thank you, Haechan,” you say sweetly, and he smiles at you.

“You’re welcome.” 

“Okay, my turn!” Jeno exclaims, rolling the dice. He lands an eight and moves eight spaces, landing on a “Go to Jail” space, and groans loudly. “I hate Monopoly.”

“Whose idea was Monopoly, anyway?” Jaemin complains, and Jiwoo raises her hand.

“Monopoly is fun! It brings out everyone’s inner competitive side.” she defends herself, and Jeno rolls his eyes.

“Not too much on Jiwoo,” you say protectively, and she smiles at you gratefully. “Okay, my turn,” you say, rolling the dice. You land a six, and given that you were two spaces ahead of Jeno, you also land on the “Go to Jail” space. “Oh, man.” you say, frowning, and Haechan leans over to you, offering you something you can’t quite see yet.

“I have a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card if you want it,” he offers, and you smile brightly, taking the card from him.

“Thank you, Haechan,” you coo, and he smiles widely, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks.

“That is not how the game is played,” Mark points out, and Haechan waves him off.

“You’re just mad you own no properties.” Haechan teases, and Mark stares at him for a long moment before lunging over the table. Haechan shrieks as Mark shakes him roughly, and you pull Mark off with a poorly restrained laugh. 

“No throttling Haechan!” you defend him, and he all but cowers behind you, glaring at Mark.

“You’re lucky your little girlfriend was here to save you.” Mark huffs, and Haechan smiles smugly.

“I sure am,” he coos fondly, and you try to ignore the thrill you feel at being called Haechan’s girlfriend.

You make eye contact with Jihyo, who raises an eyebrow shrewdly, making you do away with the little smile you have in favor of a more neutral expression.

Haechan is anything but subtle, and you’re coming to realize that this arrangement probably won’t be a secret for much longer, making you worry about how your relationship with Haechan might change.

But when his hand finds yours under the table, squeezing gently, you can’t say you mind.

[soobnny]

no other heart — best friend!kim seungmin x reader ; only one person can ever persuade seungmin to do anything (1.4k words)

happy bday seungmo! you are my favorite person

Seungmin feels Hyunjin before he even sees his face.

He comes in the form of a hand falling firmly on Seungmin’s shoulder, and the first thing the younger boy thinks is that your hands are supposed to be smaller.

The house that they’re in is loud, and really really crowded. It’s a setting that Seungmin doesn’t often take part in, preferring the quiet sounds of his airconditioning back at his room.

There is also a sharp contrast in how the boy favors his music. While he’s currently surrounded by the thrumming of music that beats in his ears, he would rather be at the dorm in the comfort of his lifeline (or, for better words, his collected playlist for the month).

From the corner of his eye, he sees his oldest friend, Chan, talking to a set of faces he’s never seen before. He wonders how the older boy does it. Seungmin has no plans of starting a conversation unlike Chan, not when he’s overstimulated by the flashing lights, and the confusing aromas wafting from the red cups that everyone seems to be holding, and the hand on his shoulder that most definitely is not yours.

“Seungmin, you came!” That’s also definitely not your voice.

“Hyunjinnie.” He breathes out, head muddled by his sudden urge to go home despite just having arrived around half an hour ago. He doesn’t sound as enthusiastic as his friend, but Hyunjin gives the boy a pass. Besides, it’s not everyday you see Kim Seungmin out past 10 in the evening, more less at a party.

Seungmin shifts a little from where he’s standing, just enough for Hyunjin’s hand to fall limp by his side. If you knew him less, you would think he was being rude. However, his indifference does a lot in calming his friend down.

He still has a distaste for parties. At least, this way, Hyunjin knows that no force has taken over Seungmin for his sudden appearance.

“Not to be mean, I’m just genuinely curious. How come you’re he—”

“Seungminnie!”

He shifts his attention to the sound.

There’s your voice, finally your voice, loud and clear to the boy, enough to be heard over the music and the voices and the heat.

There’s a sudden understanding that crosses Hyunjin’s features, and he says something on par with how Seungmin would only ever go to anything if it was you who asked.

“Ah, of course you’re here, (name). That must be why he’s here too.” Hyunjin giggles, sending a wink that looks more like a blink to the both of you before he disappears into the crowd.

Whatever he means.

Hyunjin has always had a knack for being cryptic anyway.

There is no proper greeting when Seungmin finds you, only a flick on your forehead.

“What’s wrong with you,” he says, but there is no grit in his voice. “You asked me to come here, and left me waiting for you for thirty minutes.”

“I was late.” You smile sheepishly, taking his hand in yours before dragging him along the pool of people to lead him outside.

He should be used to it now, the ease in which you link your hands together, as if there’s no need for a warning anymore when you’ve known each other for this long. Still, Seungmin finds it unfair. He needs it, needs the warning before you take his heart hand like this.

“You shouldn’t be asleep on a Friday night like a senior citizen.”

This senior citizen came out all the way here for you, he thinks.

“‘M going home now,” is what he chooses to say.

“No!” You suddenly stop in your tracks, just when you’re about to reach the grassy fields of the backdoor of whoever the hell owned this house.

It makes Seungmin stumble over, feet in a hurry to plant themselves on the ground so he doesn’t crash into you. When you turn to face him with a scolding look on your face, the only thing he can think about is how awfully close you are.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to proximities like these with you. “I’m already here, don’t you want to be with me?”

Seungmin sighs because he does, really does, but not in the way you’re asking right now.

“Plus, there’s supposed to be a comet tonight. I think we’ll be able to see it from here.” Your hand latches back on his, pulling him outside where the cold breeze of the night air greets you.

“There’s been a comet every night since last Wednesday.”

“But the city doesn’t quite get a view of it like this.”

By his fate, because he can never say no to you, he watches the comet falling just as you mention it.

Seungmin supposes you’re right. It is a little nicer out here compared to the light pollution of the city, and there’s a good enough distance between where you are and the painfully loud music of the house, and he doesn’t have to deal with anyone but the one person he cares about.

He chooses not to think about the eventual teasing that’s bound to come his way.

He knows Hyunjin’s spreading word around, that Kim Seungmin is actually here, and his friends already know why.

Because you’re here. What other reason does he need?

And Seungmin supposes he can sacrifice a few hours of sleep. Despite begrudgingly coming here, he doesn’t think he’d be able to trade the way you look right now—with your eyes soft and enchanted, and your features highlighted by the soft glow of the moon, and the small, but fond smile playing at your lips.

“It’s so beautiful.”

“It is.” He’s not looking where you are, and you’re too painfully distracted by the falling comet and the thousand stars blanketing the night sky to notice that he’s only ever looked at you tonight.

“Seungmin?”

His breath hitches when you suddenly turn to him, and there is no other coping mechanism he can think of but clearing his throat and looking anywhere but your eyes.

You take the moment where he’s too distracted to wrap your arms around him.

Seungmin freezes at the contact, the nudge in his heart so visible on his face. It’s a shame you have your head buried on his chest to notice the way he suddenly relaxes, hand gingerly resting on the small of your back for a second before wrapping himself entirely around you.

“Why’re you hugging me all of a sudden?” It sounds like he wants to say more, but he remains hesitant. Instead, he pulls you just a little closer.

“Thanks for coming. I know you hate going out to stuff like this, and I really do feel bad for practically forcing you. But, at the same time, I’m just really happy you came too.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing to feel bad about.”

Fuck, the way he says it is so awkward, and he cringes at himself for feeling this nervous around you. He tries to steady his pulse, tries to stop the rapid way in which his heart beats because he knows you can hear it.

“I stole your sleeping hours, of course I feel bad. Plus you hate parties, and yet you came here anyway.” You loosen your grip to look up at him.

You’re ill-prepared to see the tenderness in which his eyes are looking at you right now. He does that sometimes. You’ve never quite figured out why.

“Because you asked me to.” He tells you, really tries to tell you without saying too much. “I’d do anything if it was you who asked me, stupid girl.”

It feels like more of a realization to himself, and he doesn’t really want you to think about what he means. At least not tonight, not in the same night he’s come to find out just the lengths he would go through for you. His lips are parted like he wants to say more, but he decides against it. Still, his very few words will leave you blushing for the next few days after tonight and strike up a few realizations of your own.

Seungmin has known, and he’s known what he was signing up for—when he’d come here, when he’d pick you up, when he’d answer your calls at two in the morning.

He likes you a lot, and no other heart will ever make him act this way.

Not like you do.

So, for now, he’ll keep doing anything if you ask him. He’ll keep showing up until he’s ready to commit to the How To Confess scripture. He’s a simple boy, after all.

A simple boy with a simple heart that beats only for you.

[moonlightspencie]

hands that make hell seem cold

Description: Friends to lovers, emphasis on lovers.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!: porn with almost no plot, p in v, brief mention of a breeding kink

Word Count: 3.2k

link to the spotify playlist

James took a deep breath, looking around his space.

He'd been cleaning all day long. Not really for any reason other than his mates coming over later that night.

He propped his hands on his hips, scrutinizing his own work for a moment.

"Good," he mumbled softly to himself, nodding as he walked back into the kitchen.

He busied himself picking up all the towels he'd used, and set a kettle on the stove for a cup of tea when he finished. He threw the towels in a hamper in the laundry room of his flat, and went back to the kitchen, waiting mindlessly on the kettle to start whistling.

Though, that's when he heard a knock on his door. He frowned a little, not expecting anyone over for another hour or two. He shuffled over to the door, opening it to see an unexpected face.

His smile grew. "Baby!"

"Hi, angel," she smiled back at him, walking past him and into his flat.

He chuckled, shutting the door, then turning to watch her take her shoes off very impatiently. He was practically bouncing by the time she finished and turned to him.

“Okay,” she opened her arms with a laugh, letting him practically tackle her.

He squeezed her into a crushing hug, knocking her off her feet, only protecting her from falling with the intensity of the embrace.

“James,” she chuckled, voice muffled by his chest. “You’re squishing me.”

“Mm,” he hummed absentmindedly, still holding her for a moment. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” she said, then kissed his shoulder once as he loosened his grip. “But you know how things are. I’ve gotta visit home sometimes. My family does like to see me on occasion, you know?”

“I know, love,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead. “But can’t they just come here instead?”

“They do on occasion. But I love being home, even if I still want to be around you more,” she winked.

James giggled, squeezing her again. “You flatter me.”

“I know. That’s kind of the point, Jamie.”

James smiled, his cheeks a little rosy as he looked at her. It had really only been a couple of weeks since she’d been around, but it felt like forever. He’d always had a soft spot for the girl, but it seemed to have intensified in the past months. Sure, they were still friends, but… there was something else there. He just didn’t want to be the first to admit it. Lately, he’d been thinking about it, though.

He sighed softly. “Uh… the boys are supposed to be over tonight.”

“Oh! Well, that’ll be fun. I’ll make sure to head out before they show up, then.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brow in question.

“I’ll… make sure I’m not interrupting–”

“You’re not!” he cut her off, shaking his head.

Her brows raised, a small chuckle leaving her lips. “You sure?”

“‘Course I am! Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, shrugging a little. “Here, let’s go sit. I wanna hear all about your trip.”

He grabbed her hand, practically dragging her behind him to the living room. She shook her head in amusement, letting him pull her along without a hint of resistance until he’d sat them both down with not a centimeter of space between them.

“How were mum and dad?”

“Good, mostly,” she replied, not batting an eye as he slung an arm around her shoulders. “Mom’s been a little under the weather, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. You held down the fort here without me, then?”

“Barely,” he feigned a pout. “Could’ve fallen apart if you were gone one more day.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed, leaning into him.

“Only ‘cause I love you.”

“Mhm,” she snorted. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Can’t help it.”

“You never can.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, then kissed her forehead again. “God, you got even prettier. What were they feeding you over there?”

“Nothing you’d like, I’m sure.”

He laughed. “Probably not. But seriously, love… wow.”

She snorted a laugh, looking at him curiously. “When did you become such a flirt?”

“Please, you love it,” he chuckled, then shot her a sideways glance. “You love it, right?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good,” he breathed out, then straightened up as a terrible whistling came from the kitchen. “Shit.”

She laughed as he shot up and hustled into the kitchen, following after him and watching as he grabbed his oven mit to take the kettle off the stovetop. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling to herself as he quickly pulled down two mugs and tea bags, preparing them both. He always put the tiniest bit too much sugar in hers, but she’d never complain to him. She accepted gratefully as he put a mug in her hand.

“There you are,” he muttered, then leaned against the counter. “Almost forgot that was on the stove.”

“Almost? James, you jumped up and practically ran in here.”

“...Shut up,” he hid a smile behind his mug, trying to take a sip before quickly moving away from the steam. “Hot.”

“Yeah, you are,” she muttered, barely thinking about it as it passed her lips.

His cheeks turned pink again. “You’re bound and determined to make me blush, aren’t you?”

“You’re cute when you blush,” she grinned, poking one of his cheeks. “You know I like to tease you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes in response, but there was no malice behind it. He sighed softly, then let his eyes wander back to her. “Seriously, how did you get hotter?”

“Oh, and I’m the one trying to make you blush, huh?”

He giggled again. “Maybe we’re both guilty.”

She hid a smirk, shaking her head at him again. She glanced down at her still-steaming mug, then back at his face. His wide eyes and his lip pulled between his teeth. She had decided that it was incredibly annoying how attractive he was. 

“James?”

“Yeah, love?” he responded immediately, his eyes widening in question.

She smiled again, unable to stop herself this time. “God, you’re fucking annoying. I say that with love.”

“Annoying?”

“You’re annoyingly hot.”

He looked away, his cheeks only warming further. He set his mug on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. A move that she thought was very distracting.

“Can I ask you a question, love?” he asked after a beat.

“Of course.”

He glanced at her again. “Well… what do you think of me?”

“Huh?”

“Like… duh, we’re friends. But… like..”

“Like…?”

“Do you think we’d be, like… good together?”

She quirked a brow. “As in…?”

He groaned. “Like us. Together.”

“You mean like… together?”

“Duh.”

“I mean– Well, I haven’t… I can’t say that I’ve never thought about it,” she admitted quietly.

He sighed softly, looking at her carefully for a few moments. She looked right back, unsure what to do next after that. He wasn’t quite sure either, turning over that information in his head. She set her mug next to his on the counter, not wanting to hold it if they were going to keep standing there having that kind of conversation. He watched her as she moved closer to set her tea down, feeling a little restless as her perfume wafted up to him in a wave.

“Fuck it,” he huffed out, moving to put his hands on her cheeks, crashing his lips into hers. 

Usually, he might not be so forward. But she was so fucking tempting, it was almost a crime to not kiss her at this point. And it felt good.

She froze up at first, a bit shocked that he’d gone and kissed her. Though, it didn’t take long before she gained her senses again and kissed him back like she was born to do it. He moaned into the kiss, nipping at her lip, pulling her flush against his body with his arms wrapped around her waist.

“James…” she mumbled against him, not really for any reason other than to feel his name on her lips.

He kissed along her cheek and jaw, mumbling in her ear, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she breathed out.

He groaned, biting her neck gently before sucking on the skin. He attached himself there until he’d left a dark mark, determined to make her remember how it felt to kiss him.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages,” he muttered, kissing all the way back up her neck.

“Really?”

“Yeah…” he kissed her lips again, then pulled back to look at her face. “I think… maybe for a year, now. You’re just… you know I’ve always thought you were hot.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to fuck me,” she laughed.

“Who said I did?”

She scoffed, her mouth dropping open. “You dick!”

He giggled. “Couldn’t help it. But… I definitely do. Really bad.”

She hummed, glancing down at his lips again. “So… a year, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“When did that start?”

He smirked. “When I realized my best friend was insanely hot and I was crazy to not want more. But… Well, the day we all went to the beach and I saw you in that itty bitty bikini definitely helped.”

“You perv,” she laughed, smacking his arm lightly.

“I already love your personality, what else was I supposed to say?” he defended himself with a chuckle.

“Whatever,” she snorted, pulling him back in and kissing him, much more softly this time.

He sighed against her lips, happy to finally know what she felt like in this way. He let his mouth open for her as she slid her tongue against his bottom lip, groaning into the kiss as he felt her tongue against his. He followed her lead for a moment before taking control of the kiss, backing her against the kitchen counter.

Her lower back hit the counter, and she smiled against his lips, letting him push her onto the counter. He stood between her legs, letting his hands travel up her thighs.

“What, are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen? Not super romantic, James,” she laughed.

“Mm. I’d take you anywhere. We’ll have time for romance later,” he replied easily, kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone.

His hands slid under her shirt, feeling her stomach. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it,” he asserted, pushing her top up and off of her, letting it drop to the floor. He took her in with a dreamy sigh. “Wow.”

She smiled. “It’s not that special.”

“Says you,” he glanced at her, scrunching up his face in distaste at her blase attitude about her body. His hands wandered over her skin, feeling her tummy, her ribs, her breasts. “You’re a damn angel, love.”

“You’re sweet.”

He hummed, tugging off his own shirt before going back to just feeling her. After a few moments, he couldn’t handle not seeing more of her. He let his hands wander again, reaching around her back to pull off that pesky bra. He let that drop onto the slowly growing pile of clothes on the ground. He reached up again, experimentally squeezing her breasts, feeling himself grow painfully hard against his jeans.

“See? This is all I could think about when you were in that stupid, gorgeous bikini of yours, love. And I was right. You’re incredible underneath it all,” he mumbled, locked in on feeling her chest. 

His mouth watered at the sight of her, topless on his kitchen counter. His pretty best friend perched up there just for him to see and feel. He started kissing down her chest, stopping at one of her nipples, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud before he sucked it gently into his mouth.

She let out a small, breathy sound as she watched him with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure from sucking on her. He looked so pretty and desperate like that. She ran a hand up his arm, tangling her hand in his hair. 

“God, you’re eager,” she breathed out, a small laugh passing her lips.

“You’re fucking sexy’s why,” he mumbled against her skin, moving his lips to the other breast.

She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut from pleasure as he kissed and sucked at her tits, gently groping one with his hand as his mouth worked over the other. He slowly started moving his lips down, kissing along her ribs and stomach.

“You’d look real pretty pregnant, you know? I’ve thought about that a few times,” he mumbled, nipping the skin of her stomach.

“James…” she groaned.

“Sorry love. Can’t help myself,” he apologized, though they both knew he didn’t mean it. “Just wanna make you mine, ya’ know? Plus, we’d have pretty babies.”

He smiled again as another sound left her lips, his hands working to tug off her pants. He pulled them down her legs, kissing back up her leg once he’d dropped the pants on the floor.

“As much as I’d love to taste you, doll, I think that might have to wait. If I start, I won't be able to stop,” he said softly, kissing up her thigh. “You even smell perfect.”

“God, James. You’re such a slut,” she smirked a little.

“Only for you, baby,” he said, his dimple poking in his cheek as he stood straight.

He cradled her head in his hands, looking over her face for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her again, his lips moving soft and slow over hers. She held onto his biceps as he kissed her, feeling them move and flex under her palms as he dropped his hands to start pulling off her panties. He did it slowly, teasingly, until he’d pulled them off her legs entirely, letting them fall to the ground. He pulled back from the kiss, looking over her bare body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered, eyes trailing over her. “Pretty girl. I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too, Jamie.”

He kissed her again through a grin. “You’re the best friend ever, too. For the record.”

“I better be after this,” she laughed.

He chuckled along with her, pulling his pants and boxers down in one go. She let out a small noise of satisfaction, seeing him all naked and beautiful.

“God damn, James. No wonder the girls like you so much.”

He giggled at that. “I always thought it was my personality.”

“Sure,” she teased, pulling him in for another kiss.

He groaned into it, his hands wandering up and down over her body, feeling her soft curves under his skin. He let one of his hands reach down, slowly stroking his leaky cock, stepping closer to the apex of her thighs. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered against her lips.

“Yeah. Please,” she nodded, breathing him in.

He shuddered, dragging himself along her slit before pressing at her entrance. He whined softly, barely pushing in.

“God…” he breathed out desperately, pressing his forehead against hers. He moaned softly, pulling a similar sound from her lips as he pushed into her, letting her heat envelop him. “You feel so good, love.”

“Yeah,” she groaned, her arms around his shoulders.

He pushed himself in all the way, a soft needy sound coming from him as he stilled for a moment before pulling out and repeating that motion slowly. They breathed each others’ air as James pushed his hips into hers slowly, almost teasingly, getting used to how she felt around him. He’d dreamed of fucking her a million times before, but there was nothing that could prepare him for how she really felt.

She dropped her head in his neck, feeling impossibly full. He wasn’t the biggest she’d ever seen in her life, but fuck if he didn’t feel like it. Not to mention the fact that his cock was gorgeous, and the mere thought of it dragging in and out of her had her feeling dizzy.

“Fuck, love,” he moaned, suddenly pulling her off the counter. “I need more.”

She chuckled breathily, though she whined softly as he pulled out.

“Wha–”

“Shhh…” he shook his head, spinning her around and bending her over the kitchen counter.

She let out a shuddering breath, a grin on her face as her breasts hit the cold counter, his hand pressing down on her lower back. He pushed back into her immediately with an animalistic grunt, picking up the pace immediately.

“You’re perfect,” he grit out, gripping her hips with one hand, pushing down on her back with the other. “Feel so perfect around me, baby.”

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice broken and needy as she pressed her hands against the counter, unable to do anything else.

He pounded into her, her hips hitting the edge of the counter with every thrust. Usually, he’d care much more about her safety and comfort, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with the sweet sounds she made for him every time his hips snapped against her ass. 

“James,” she said, her voice whiny.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.”

“Already?” he smirked, pounding into her harder.

She merely moaned in response, her eyes fluttering shut again as he moved one of his hands around her neck. He didn’t put any pressure on her, but it forced her to arch her back more, letting him hit a slightly different angle.

“God, Jamie…” she whimpered, her body suddenly convulsing, pulsing around him without warning.

He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fucked her through it, loving the way she felt squeezing him like that. 

“Shit, baby,” he said through a gasp, his hips beginning to stutter in their movements.

He let her drop against the counter again, gripping onto her hips with both hands, pulling her back against him with every thrust. He lost himself in pleasure, pushing himself into her with vigor until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled out of her cunt, using his hand to stroke himself a few times before he was finishing on her ass, watching thick ropes of his cum cover her skin. He barely held himself upright as he watched it happen, breathing heavy from the effort until he was completely spent.

He braced himself on the counter with both hands. “Fuck, baby.”

She laughed softly through a whimper. “Y-yeah. Fuck.”

“You’re… God damn, love. You’re perfect,” he smiled to himself, catching his breath as he looked down at her body again. “Never thought I’d get to see you like this. All covered in my cum.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, chuckling quietly. “But… maybe get me a towel? It’s starting to get cold.”

“Gross,” he snorted a laugh, moving to get a towel from one of the cabinets in the kitchen, dampening it with warm water. “Good thing we’re in the kitchen. Easy to clean up.”

“I guess,” she laughed as he wiped her clean of his seed. “Maybe next time you can just cum in me.”

He paused, his eyes widening. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she nodded easily.

“Shit, you’re sexy,” he mumbled, finishing cleaning her off. “Okay, love. All clean.”

“Thanks,” she said, standing straight.

They looked at one another for a moment, both quite satisfied with what they’d done, before she started picking up her clothes.

“So… the boys will be here soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered, laughing a little at her switch in topic. “Yeah, they will.”

“How long?”

He shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”

She nodded, pulling on her panties. “How long are they staying?”

“Until dinner time, I suppose.”

“Cool…” she nodded with feigned nonchalance.

He smiled a bit, looking at her with a raised brow. “What have you got planned?”

“With you? Everything,” she smirked.

[yeonjuns-beanie]

Blasphemous Rumours

Warnings: 18+, smut, hierophilia, sacrilegious acts, priest kink, fucking on an altar, suggestive themes in a confessional, riding a rosary(?...), hair pulling, biting, light blood play, exhibitionism, suggestive themes during mass, probably smth else but i don’t remember. nothing too crazy🧌. im debating on linking the playlist i wrote this to, but it would kinda get rid of the anonymity of this account…. ~nero :)

Father Paul Hill x female!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

You hated this fuckin ferry. 

You loved your family but you never understood why they never left that island. When you found your way out you left without a second thought. Vowing to never settle here again but that didn’t mean you’d never visit your family. Usually for the holidays you made your way back out here, but this time you just had a break in your schedule and wanted to visit. Wanting to visit didn’t trump the hatred you had for riding this fucking ferry though. 

To be completely honest you didn’t hate the ride itself but rather how the journey made you smell like a feeding bucket at Seaworld. The evening sun was gracing you with its last bit of warmth as it began to tuck itself behind the horizon. Against the cool mist of the water for a split moment, you almost understood the appeal of this lifestyle.

Almost. 

The ferry pulled up to the dock and your eyes fell on the shoreline meeting some abandoned nets and dried out seaweed. The seagulls' mews echoed as you exited the boat. Grabbing your bags you took a deep breath as your feet hit the sand and you began the trek up to your family home. 

Nothings changed. 

It’s been years and everything still looked the same. The houses, the people, hell even the smells were the same. It was uncanny. You saw the church in the distance and were relieved knowing that you could finally lay your bags down soon. As you passed the church your eyes landed on a relatively young man standing outside, a warm smile welcoming anyone that passed by. Styx-colored locks, a slender frame, and a face that looked ever so familiar. Pressing your lips together in a close-lipped smile and waved at him making a mental note to speak to him later. 

Your family’s house was only two doors down from the church and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see them. Knocking on the front door you eagerly waited to see who would see your face first. 

“Coming!” 

You heard faintly from the other side and you were greeted by the face of your mother. 

“Y/n! Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you!” 

She embraced you immediately, nearly squeezing the life out of you. 

“Hi, Mom.” You chuckled 

Over her shoulder, you saw your little sister, Briar, smirking at you trying her best not to laugh at your current situation. Your mom pulled you into the house motioning for you to come eat dinner as you arrived just in time. 

“Please, come eat. We’ll worry about your bags later. You came just in time to go to mass with us after.”

Mass? Why so late?

“Mass? Did you guys miss it this morning or something?” 

Washing your hands you turned around to face your family as you dried them. Before you sat down at the table your dad came from around the corner physically interjecting himself into the conversation as your mom spoke. 

“No, they happen—hi dear, they happen in the evening now. A new priest has been filling in for the Monsignor. Apparently, while he left for his trip to Jerusalem he fell terribly ill. Such a shame. But Father Paul is phenomenal! I think you’ll like him.”

Your mom looked at you with a knowing smile and you knew exactly what she was teasing you about. You rolled your lips around your teeth and began to eat, swallowing a sly comment. 

After you guys finished dinner, you fixed yourself for mass. Although you weren’t religious on your own time, you did it for your family while you were here. Plus, it allowed you time to wrestle with your feelings with Christ to see if it really wasn’t for you. Your relationship with God or whoever was out there was complicated. Wildly complicated. You knew in your heart that you were a formal sinner yet you lacked the guilt that should’ve come with that. 

If anything, you relished in it. You loved being entangled with the feeling of sin, it made you feel alive. You felt so strangled as a kid with religion, as if every move you made was under scrutiny so when you found the courage to separate yourself, you may have overindulged in things that were impious in nature. 

Just as you were this evening, clad in a low-cut tank top, a hoodie, jeans, and slip-on Vans. If you felt you didn’t belong in Crockett before, you definitely visually fit the part now. Looking like a complete foreigner in comparison to everyone else. You screamed city. From your clothes, and makeup, even down to the way you spoke. You tried your best to eradicate every trace of Crockett when you left but there was one thing you couldn’t scrub away. 

God. 

God always found a way to squirm His way around your brain and tether you to this island. 

“Y/n! You ready, honey?” 

“Yeah!”

Spraying yourself with a light perfume you walked out into the front room where your family was waiting for you. Filing out the door, the walk to the church was quick which was something you despised as a kid and you could feel those same feelings bubbling up as you neared its entrance. It was as if God was mocking you, knowing that you had such an internal feud with whether or not you believed, what was right and wrong, and if you even had a sliver of faith left within you. 

Sitting down in the pews next to your family, you felt at home once the incense filled your nose. The strange feeling of comfort washing over you as memories of your childhood flashed in front of you. The tottering organ that was moments away from wood decay, the massive crucifix in the center arch of the back of the church, and the haunting glow from the warm ambient lighting had you questioning yourself once again. You swallowed the thought, deciding that nostalgic comfort was weighing out your need for logic. 

You were pulled from your thoughts as everyone around you rose to your feet and the chimes of the bell echoed through the building. It was at this point that you realized how many people were stuffed into the pews. Mass was never like this as a kid. 

He’s either the hottest thing known to man or he’s sent from God himself. 

Anticipation settled in your stomach and you fought the smile that was begging to stretch your lips. You needed to know what it was. Maybe he was just a really good preacher, and you were being facetious–or maybe you just walked into the next Jim Jones story. Either way, your eyes were glued to the hallway counting the seconds to the procession. 

As everyone around you opened their book of hymns you were fixated on the white robe that exited the side door.  You didn’t recognize either of the altar boys and for a brief moment, you wondered where the last two poor bastards ran off to. But then your eyes fell on his. His stark black hair wasn’t as neat as it was earlier today when you were walking through town. A few pieces in the front dangled over his right eyebrow and his head was bowed slightly as he walked through the pews. 

Your mind was pulled away from fully taking in the man as you were distracted by how full the church sounded. When you were younger the hymns always sounded so hollow and weak, but tonight it resembled a traditional mass. Savoring the moment of repose you felt, you found it within you to appreciate the music resonating through the building finding it somewhat odd that they were singing a hymn that sounded so haunting. 

At His feet the six-winged seraph, cherubim with sleepless eye~

Your attention drifted back to the priest where he kneeled at the steps and then bowed his head at the altar. When his head raised to stare out across the pews you felt your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him. Your mom nudged your side, smirking when you turned to look at her. 

“Told you.”

You shoved your tongue in your cheek, swiping it across your teeth as you sat back down. Mass went by in a blink considering you were completely engrossed in the man in front of you rather than his preaching. At some point, you completely tuned out his biblical orations and resorted to the simple pleasures of imagining him and yourself in various scenarios in the church. 

In the pews, across the altar, across the altar with the front door open waiting for Beverly to waltz through, in the confessio-

“Honey, come. I want you to meet Father Paul.”

Your mom tapped you on your shoulder pushing you out of your trance of thoughts. Standing up, you smoothed out your top and took a deep breath in an attempt to shake out the tension in your shoulders you most certainly built up during your daydreaming. Walking out of the church you wondered why you were leaving if she wanted you to meet the man. You turned around and noticed that he was no longer at the altar either. Stepping out to the front, your questions were soon answered as a smooth voice sounded from behind you. 

“I see we have a new face in town.” 

Your mother butt in before you had a chance to speak for yourself. Laying her hand across the small of your back introducing you to the man you just spent the better half of an hour fantasizing about. 

“For a little bit, we do, yes! This is my daughter, y/n. She usually comes around for the holidays but we got lucky this time around. This used to be her home until about two years ago.”

You stuck your hand out, Father Paul grabbing yours with a firm grip and you couldn’t help the compulsion to stare at his hand for a moment before quickly finding your mind and smiling at him.

“Nice of you to step in for the Monsignor. My mom told me you’re his stand-in for the time being.” 

“Yes. I apologize seeing as I’m not who you expected, but I assure you he’s on the road to recovery.” 

As Father Paul spoke, you couldn’t quite place why he looked and felt so familiar. You were running through files of how you could’ve possibly known him but nothing was coming out concrete. 

“Oh! No need to apologize. I quite enjoyed your sermon, it was very similar to what I was used to growing up here. It’s as if he never left.” 

You chuckled out your last sentence and suddenly nerves found themselves coursing through your body as you maintained eye contact. You were committing his face to memory. Whether it be for personal reasons in the dead of night or to try and figure out where you knew him from. You’d wrestle with that later. Right now, you were just hoping that you weren’t being painfully obvious. 

You were. 

You were bordering a fine line of staring and eye-fucking him that your mother and sister were finding absolute humor in. Your eyes flickered back and forth between his clerical collar and his face trying to shake the thoughts that were circling their way around your head. 

“Well, I’m glad that I feel so familiar to you. I hope to see more of you during your time here with us.” 

He smiled at you with such sincerity you forgot about all the lust brewing for a second. His face held so many emotions but you couldn’t place any of them. 

“You will.”

You smiled back at him, your eyes holding something a little more heavy though. You were aware of the priesthood’s celibacy and something about knowing you couldn’t have him made the feeling that more intense. Although, you didn’t miss how it seemed the feeling was reciprocated while you looked at him. Father Paul spoke, breaking the silence that you two created. 

“Well, it was very nice to meet the rest of your family, Mrs. L/N, but I am afraid that I have some matters to tend to back in my rectory. You all have a very nice night.” 

His gaze lingered as he spoke, giving you the same treatment as you did moments before and it was making you squirm on the inside. His gaze was soft but so intense and the contrariety of it left your mind racing. While you and your family said a choir of goodbyes, you watched Father Paul walk away as your family made the way back to the house. Your sister spoke up, whipping you from your thoughts. 

“At this point, you should just tell him you want to fuck him.” 

Both of your parents exclaimed your sister’s name in shock but the two of you were left laughing. 

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad.” 

“Y/n, you might as well have been sucking his fingers in front of us.” 

As you guys walked back into the house your mom snickered as you genuinely asked for her opinion. 

“Was I being that obvious about it?”

She paused. 

“You could be…less obvious about it.” 

You groaned in embarrassment rushing straight to your room to avoid any teasing for the night. 

“Goodnight!” 

~*~

You couldn’t sleep. You opened your phone to check the time knowing full well that it was the middle of the night. You just wanted to see how late it was. 

3:33. 

Shit. 

You let out an exasperated sigh wiping your hand across your face. It was usually at this point in the night that your hand found its way in between your pajama pants and gently glided itself across your sensitive floret. Your hips jolted forward at the contact and as soon as that sensation spread through your body, images of Father Paul flickered in your mind. As your finger circled over your clit you found yourself reaching your climax faster than usual. As your orgasm flooded through your limbs, your chest heaved for air trying to calm the euphoria running through your veins. 

Pulling your hand from under the sheets, you let your arm drape across your eyes grappling with what you just did. But before you could really identify the problem with your actions, sleep weighed heavily on your eyelids. 

When you woke up, your middle of the night scandal was the first thing on your mind. 

How am I gonna look at him again? 

A string of questions ran through your mind leaving you mentally scattered but as you got ready for the day and saw your sister in the main room, it left the front of your mind. 

“Morning.” 

“Morning. You gonna go to church today?”

You shot your sister a look that was a mixture of embarrassment and a playful knowing. You two erupted into a fit of giggles that ended with you looking at her out of the corner of your eye. 

“Maybe.”

She watched you, impressed by your honesty, and nodded her head. Taking a sip of her drink she spoke through her swallow making her voice a little gummy. 

“Your best chances of seeing him are in the evening. For some reason, he’s stopped coming out in the day. Probably to avoid Bev. That woman would sew herself to his hip if she could.”

“Bev was up the Monsignor’s ass too, nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve never seen someone try to get so close to fucking God.” 

You both were laughing until you saw your mother emerge from the hallway and you halted the sound in your throats. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just givin’ Bev shit for being Bev.”

Your mom laughed through her nose and shook her head at your antics and you were preparing for a small lecture. 

“So I take it you’ll be heading to the church tonight y/n? Typically we only go on Sundays now but I’m sure Father Paul would be ecstatic to see one of us a little more often.” 

Your family took great pride in taking the piss out of you and to be completely fair you made it quite easy. You rolled your eyes at your mother because even she knew you had lost touch with your faith, but now you had reason to find it–maybe. 

“I wasn’t planning on it but since Briar and now you have both greeted me with the question maybe I will. Build some rapport with the man.” 

“We both know you’d wanna build something more than rapport with him.” Briar chimed in. 

“I literally can’t even! You know…with him. It’s against their whole code. Don’t think I forgot. But also they like should come up with a code to not have hot priests, I’m just sayin.” 

They both just hummed in agreement still silently giving you shit. 

“You guys are terrible.” You laughed. 

~*~

You had all day to conjure up a scheme of how you’d find a way to get close to Father Paul and you finally decided on a plan while you were getting ready. 

Confession. 

Technically you didn’t need a priest for confession but it’d be nice to have someone listen while you were in the box. Everyone separated into their rooms for the day and you hoped that was still the case when you stepped out of the house. 

“Skirt’s a little long isn’t it.” 

You didn’t expect Briar to be sitting in the main room so her voice spooked you before you registered her words. 

“Yeah, but I think the side slits balance out the potential prude.” 

You shoved your leg out to the side showing off how the slit in the maxi skirt stopped at the middle of your thigh. Paired with a fairly tight black long sleeve and chunky boots, you were bordering on looking like a mortician. In your mind, being clad in all black hid not only you, but your true intentions from being so visible. The last thing you needed was being sniffed out through a choice of clothing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hopeful for an interaction. 

“I’ll be back.”

“Be safe.” Briar snickered

Stepping out into the cool night air, you were thankful to feel something other than the emotional heat from your family. It immediately soothed your nerves and you found yourself focusing more on your plan. With the church doors open, you noticed you saw nobody walking in and when you walked up the steps you were surprised to see the pews empty. It felt like you were intruding, like a fly buzzing around a dinner table. Your footsteps echoed in the empty building and you felt an overwhelming feeling to run out and forget about this elaborate plan. To sacrifice your need for affection and carnal satisfaction for a walk across the shoreline or to the general store. Just something else. 

Your eyes panned over to the confession box and you were wrestling with your gut feeling to stay. Maybe you should confess and get it off your chest…just not with him there. With disquieted uncertainty overcoming you, you took a step back to exit the church deciding that you’d come back another day, but when you expected your body to glide through the air, you stumbled into something solid instead. Whipping your body around you apologized profusely. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was spaced out and didn’t hear anybody behind me I’m so-” 

And then you paused. As your eyes traveled up to meet the person you stumbled into your eyes caught the clerical collar. It was like a bullet lodged itself into your chest and you felt your limbs begin to grow cold from shock. You knew who lied above that collar and you had to find the guts to look at him in the eye. 

“It’s no trouble at all. Are you alright? You seem pretty startled.” 

Father Paul placed his hand on your shoulder looking down at you with genuine concern. You made the mistake of looking at him directly in the eye and you wished you didn’t. His deep brown eyes furrowed under his brow waiting for your response but you were entranced by him. Stuttering when you found your voice. 

“I, uh, yeah. I’m fine. I just was in my head about something.” 

Father Paul cocked his head slightly trying to figure out where to step with you. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and flickered back and forth between you and the confessional box. 

“I noticed you were quite focused on the confessional, were you looking to confess this evening, y/n?” 

You panicked. Backed in a corner, your mouth moved faster than your brain. It was too late before you could register the words flying out of your mouth. 

“Well, yes and no. I’ve been quite separated from my faith as of late but I’ve been struggling with…some intense internal issues that can’t be ignored now. I’m not sure if confession would make it better or worse and that’s why I was so engrossed in it.” 

“Well. We’re here now. If you’re comfortable, I can lead you through it.” 

You were hesitant. You worried that in your current state, you’d divulge too much, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed to do. To just get it all out of your system and bear the humiliation. You looked at him one last time and it was as if he was waiting for your compliance. He may as well have been extending his hand out to lead you to it. Closing your eyes and accepting this as a fated moment you inhaled a deep breath and nodded. 

“Okay.” 

Walking to the confessional, you got down on your knees, folded your hands in front of your mouth, and exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You looked through the latticed opening and made out a few of Father Paul’s features. A feeling began to pool in your stomach as you realized the dynamic of the situation you were in. Your mind swiftly moved into the gutter wishing you were on your knees for a different reason. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned–and will continue to do so.” 

You paused deciding one last time if you were going to bear all your bones here. Swallowing your pride, like a gun sounding the start of a race, you relieved yourself with zero guilt. 

“Being separated from my faith has left me in a deeply sacrilegious state. For the most part, I can ignore my thoughts, my taboo interests but since I stepped foot back on this island it's all come bubbling back up.”

You looked to see if Father Paul was looking at you but he stared straight ahead giving you his complete focus to your confession. 

“I find, grave desire in things I shouldn’t. Sexual hunger that I can’t displace somewhere else because I know the only reason it brews within me is because I know it’s wrong. Father, these feelings came back to the surface when I laid my eyes on you during Mass. I couldn’t help it. The feeling that pooled in the depths of my stomach and left me aching for something more. Forgive me, Father, for my boldness, but I fear that the only way I can feel relief is to…release.” 

You felt your breath quicken at how honest you were being but it was soon replaced by the feeling of of excitement. 

“I know it’s wrong but I…I can’t stop the feeling. This is all I can say, I’m sorry for my sins.” 

Silence. 

You felt like you sat in silence for an eternity waiting to hear his voice echo to your side, but you didn’t. Instead, you heard the pace of his breathing. You almost confused it for your own but you held your breath trying to calm your nerves and still it echoed. 

“Father…I. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any-” 

“Y/n. Come to the other side. 

As you rose to your feet, you heard the door on his side of the confessional click open. When you stood in front of the door, it was the first time this evening you found the courage to look him directly in the eye. There was a dastardly hunger swimming in his brown eyes. Like a predator stalking his prey, his aura was intense and left you frozen in front of him awaiting his command. His eyebrow slightly cocked upward and his hand raised, coaxing you towards him. You followed, pausing before you stepped inside his side of the box but he coaxed you forward with his voice so smooth and alluring. With little room, you were left to slot yourself in between his legs. 

Your breath hitched as you looked at him again and he patted his thigh with his hand that was wrapped in a rosary. Clenching around nothing, you made the swift decision to close his legs and straddle them instead of taking his knee. Letting your hands rest on his shoulders you stared him down. Nothing but salacity was radiating between your bodies and quickly you began to feel your desire rise into your face. Searching his eyes for any indication of his feelings you opened your mouth to speak but he occupied the silence before you. 

“I wondered if, you would find the courage to be truthful and I must say I’m struck by your honesty.”

Your heart nearly stopped. 

You fucked this up, bad.

“Father, I-”

“No need for any apologies. I’m glad you were so honest.” 

“You…you are?”

“Lying is a sin, so yes. But it relieves me of my own prurient conscience so that I may indulge in you free of guilt.” 

You weren’t paying attention to the movement of his body due to being so focused on his words, but when his words were punctuated with the rolling of his rosary-clad finger across your cloth-covered center, you were made very aware. Your cunt clenched around nothing and your body lurched forward unintentionally writhing over his hand. Your breath came out in shutters and your eyes, now hooded with lust, gazed into his own in a frenzy. 

His fingers kept gently teasing your bud through your panties and you couldn’t help the compulsion to ride in tandem with his movements. The beads of the rosary gifted you an unknown kind of pleasure that you knew would afflict your mind for the rest of time. It was a feeling that was near indescribable but the pleasure was too good to deny. You rested your head on his forehead, gripping onto his shoulders for some type of leverage. You bit the corner of your lip in an effort to silence yourself, but your ragged breathing was near that of an incensed bull. 

“If you did a better job of controlling yourself yesterday, I may have been fooled by your sheepish nature, but you just couldn’t quell this desire on your own, could you? You went home to seek some satisfaction but you found none, so you came here to plague me instead. Praying that I’d fix this ache within you. Am I right y/n?”

You went to respond but Father Paul’s finger slipped past the barrier of your underwear, leaving you to feel your arousal be spread across your puffy petals. A moan escaped your throat and the way it echoed off the confessional walls into the church made you shrink into his body. A pathetic attempt to hide from your lechery. Father Paul hummed, urging you to speak as he sank two fingers into your honeyed garden. Catching your breath, you found your words. 

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Father~”

You brought your head up to look at him again, too dazed to even feel like this was real. As his fingers continued to roll themselves against your sweet spot, your breath quickened as your mouth stayed ajar looking for the courage somewhere in yourself to slot your lips against his. As he rolled his finger over your swollen bud, your body decided for you. Your lips danced in a sweat and lust-filled hysteria leaving your brain foggy with desire. You rolled your hips into his hand needing more of him and your sounds slowly increased in volume as you felt a bead of the rosary slide across your center. The feeling of the beads slightly grazing your sensitive lips brought you faster to the precipice of elation than you expected and you pathetically whined for your release. 

“I’m, I’m close, Father.” 

You expected him to speed up his ministrations, but instead, he removed his slick-ridden fingers from your garden and brought them up to his lips. As if his hand was dripping in myrrh, he sucked you off of his fingers and paused before he spoke. Ghosting his fingers across his lips, his tongue hesitantly licked the tips of them as he dragged his hand away from his face.

“If you’re going to be brought to rapture by my hand it will be done when all of me is inside of you.” 

Father Paul motioned you to stand up and you staggered out of the confessional with him not far behind. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down the center of the church pews up to the altar. Ripping the white cloth off the altar, Father Paul held his hand out before sitting you down on the altar. He caressed his hands down the curves of your body before toying with the waistband of your skirt. Looking down at you, you saw the fervor swimming in his irises. 

“My sweet lamb, is this alright?”

You nodded and he slotted himself in between your legs feeling his bulge at your center. Depraved and corpulent lust washed over your body and your fingers fumbled with his belt, unfastening it with haste. You looked up at him and his face was closer than you expected, the heat radiating off of your bodies leaving a mist of humidity between you. You palmed him through his jeans and an inviscerated moan crawled out of his throat. The sound urged your body to move faster, the need to have him inside of you becoming near unbearable. 

He kissed you again, insatiable ardor all that you could taste. The feeling trickled down your body leaving goosebumps across your soft skin and a river seeping through the fabric of your panties that slowly painted the apex of your thighs. He tapped your thighs and you took it as a sign to lift your hips. In a swift motion, your skirt and underwear were left in a pool by the altar. Father Paul removed himself from his sweater, throwing it in the pile of sacrilegious cloths that served as a visual reminder of the desacralization that was about to take place. He left his button-up to cling to his chest and he moved his jeans and underwear down to the middle of his thighs, leaving him with his fervid cock on full display. 

You kicked your boots off your feet, the thud echoing a little bit louder than you intended. With your feet now free from their confines, you wrapped your legs around Father Paul’s legs, bringing him as close as possible. Your hand slithered between your bodies and varnished the tip of his cock in your amatory nectar. Your moans harmonized in synchrony and you gazed into his lust-blown eyes seeing nothing but black and you were sure yours were the same. He asked silently one last time for consent and you nodded slightly before he entered you. 

The stretch of his cock was something you felt only one could dream about. It filled you perfectly and you knew you wouldn’t last long. Your head dipped back in zeal, relishing in the feeling that was rushing in waves over your form. When your head tipped back up, your eyes met the enlarged crucifix that hung in the center of the back wall. For a reason unknown to you, locking eyes with Jesus as you desecrated His holy house made a pang of carnal hedonism tangle in your sexual daze. 

Your hands webbed themselves in Father Paul’s hair gripping at his strands and pulling his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder, feeling his breath heat up your skin. You felt his mouth open and drag itself across the side of your neck. A slight chill graced the parts where his spit marked his territory. You felt his breathing get heavier and all of a sudden you felt his cock slip out of you and he picked you up from the altar, turning you around and kicking your feet into a perfect V shape. He bent your body over the altar and slowly pushed himself back into you, the new angle making you cry out in complete perverted passion. 

His thrusts were deep and pointed making sure that you felt every inch of him drag in and out of your seraphic labyrinth. Just when you felt that the feeling couldn't get any more intense, his hand entangled itself into your hair and pulled your body up, flesh against his chest. His thrusts became rougher and you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. 

“Feel good, my dove?” 

You were fucking yourself back onto him, any coherent thought on the brink of leaving you amidst your ardent pleasure. 

“S-so…so good, Father. Shit.”

You were running out of air, your body paying more attention to the dam that was about to burst within you. 

“Better than your hand?”

“Uh-huh”

Your eyes were rolling back in pleasure and were hooded as you looked back at him. He gingerly guided your body back down to the altar and removed his hand from your hair, slowly tracing his hand down your back. Both of his hands grabbed your hips and the feeling had you crying out as his tip kissed your cervix. You felt his body lean over yours as he moved your hair away from your neck. His breath was sticking to your neck before a whisper ghosted over your ear.

“I’m sorry, but trust me right now.” 

He licked from the base of your neck and then you felt him pierce your skin with his teeth. In your licentious stupor, you just moaned out at the contact not fully registering that his teeth were sinking into your flesh or the fact that footsteps were echoing through the church. 

“Father, you weren’t in your rectory so I assumed this would be second best to find you-oh…” 

Bev.

Her grating voice almost brought you out of your daze, but Father Paul resorted to slow, deep thrusts as he kept he kept sucking your neck. When he lifted his face from your neck you felt a warm liquid trickle down your skin and pool towards your collarbone before landing on the altar. You lifted your head, your body weak and wracked with pleasure. You could barely make eye contact with her as your eyes were so hooded but you heard her voice resonate through the building once more. 

“Haresis Dea.”

Your head dropped unable to focus on her and your body rolled back into Father Paul’s, needing more of him as your orgasm was slowly fading back into your body. As you moved against him, his hips slowly began to thrust back into your sloppy cunt as Bev waited for some semblance of an explanation. 

“God has chosen her. He has chosen to consecrate this union, this nocturnal metamorphosis with lascivious intent because she is the last piece. God has willed it this way and has chosen her.” 

Father Paul bent down to lap at your neck again and his hips regained their momentum. You pushed yourself up from the altar and wrapped your arm around the back of his neck lapping at the blood that was dribbling down his chin.

“Very well.” 

And you heard Bev’s footsteps walk out of the church, the main doors closing behind her. Father Paul picked you up again, turning your body back around to face him. There was a certain ferality that wasn’t in his features before that had you clenching around his cock. With the doors shut, you both let your moans reign loose, a salacious cacophony filling the air. Your eyes scaled up the wall again and you came face to face with Jesus as a pool of heated arousal settled in your lower stomach begging to be set free. Your head knocked back in avidity and you didn’t see him slice a small cut in his wrist. 

When his thumb found your enflamed bud, you brought your head forward and he placed his bleeding wrist against your lips. As a wave of sexual delirium washed over you, your mouth hung open and he urged you to suck on his wrist. The metallic taste flooded over your tongue as your orgasm heightened your senses. Father Paul kept fucking you through your high until he reached his own, his cock painting your labyrinth a warm alabaster. He pulled his wrist away from you as you both were trying to calm down your breathing. 

Both of your mouths now covered in a drying garnet hue, you found yourself pressing your lips against his once again, unable to satisfy this ache completely. He chuckled as you both pulled away. 

“Easy, my dove.” 

You nodded, placing your hands flat against his chest. 

“Let’s get you dressed and then walk to the rectory, hmm?” 

Licking your bottom lip and locking it behind your teeth, you nodded as you slowly made the return back to your body.  

© yeonjuns-beanie

[see-arcane]

See Arcane's Scribbles Substack

Do you like classic horror literature? Do you have a below-average fear of disembodied eyes staring at you from the screen while you try to read? Then have I got the Substack for you!

Mine. It’s my Substack. See Arcane’s Scribbles is where I’ll be compiling a number of preview chapters for works-in-progress as well as a few other eerie odds and ends that might not end up on Tumblr. It’s a hell of a lot easier to scroll through and you can chuck a little support my way too. Hope you’ll give it a gander! Likewise for my official author site.

The Vampyres and Harker

The Vampyres (novella)

Set in the modern day, one very practiced bastard of a bloodsucker realizes that his fellow undead have started disappearing. All suddenly gone to dust and decay. Which would hardly bother him, except the entity responsible is now on his track. The eponymous Vampyre finds himself caught between a desperate investigation to uncover what this impossible psychopomp really is and making moves on an enticingly oblivious new victim he can’t wait to drain…supposing he keeps his head on his shoulders long enough to get a taste. If you're interested in a copy, check out the following links:

eBook - Print

Or to search by ISBN:

eBook: 9798218374594 - Paperback: 9798218374587

Preview Chapters

Chapter 1 🩸 Chapter 2 🩸 Chapter 3

Harker (WIP)

Jonathan Harker opens and closes the story of Dracula. He is the character who spends the most time with the dreaded Count in person. He is there for the torturous stay in the gothic castle, he is there when the monster preys upon his beloved, he is there at the very end of Dracula's vicious undeath. And yet, so many questions are left unanswered about Mr. Harker and what he endured between the lines. What happened in those missing dates within Castle Dracula? What happened as he ran through the Carpathians? And what was the source and result of that eerie change that came upon him on the 3rd of October? It’s about time we found out.

Preview Chapters

Chapter 1 🩸 Chapter 2 🩸 Chapter 3 🩸 Chapter 4 🩸 Chapter 5

Ko-Fi

In case you want to drop me a buck or commission some art.

Playlists

Some tunes for your contemporary or classic undead horror of choice:

The Vampyres 🩸Harker 🩸Was Frankenstein Not the Monster? 🩸 Nosferatu: Death and the Maiden

Also I'm on Bluesky if you want to say hi. 🦋

[pityroadart]

Here's my piece for the @mcspirkevents Big Bang! I was paired with the excellent @twinkboimler and their fic Jim Kirk's Guide to Delivering the Goods, which you can find here (E, AOS McSpirk, 60k)

Summer just started, and Jim is bored out of his mind. The courses he needs to take aren’t being offered until the second half of the summer, so he has an entire month to bother his roommate Bones. At Bones’ suggestion to get a job, Jim fixes up a motorbike and starts making deliveries to people in town, including a cute Vulcan professor named Spock. But when Jim is beaten up while making a delivery, it’s Spock who delivers Jim back to the apartment he shares with Bones. After the meet-cute from hell, Spock and Bones start dating… and so do Jim and Spock. With neither roommate aware they’re both dating the same man, there’s only so long that things can go well for them before the other shoe finally drops.

Also as part of my Big Bang offerings, I made a fic playlist (below) — partly a love letter to McSpirk, partly a love letter to myself and Fletcher's overlapping music taste.

Thank you again to Fletcher @twinkboimler for working on this project with me, it's been an absolute joy!

Until the Birds Return on Spotify

Tracks and choice lyrics below the cut (contains vague spoilers):

Astronaut | Future Crib

I wanna be an astronaut Fly into space I wanna see Mars from Venus I wanna go to that place And if you come with me They'll be room in my ship I'll take you up there with me It can be just you and me

Afraid of Heights | boygenius

I never rode a motorcycle I never smoked a cigarette I wanna live a vibrant life But I wanna die a boring death

Day by Day | Old Sea Brigade

Time and time again, I think I'm falling through space And I wake up in my bed just sweating in sheets

... Then I think of you growing old and it breaks my heart

Factories | Autoheart

When you found my body by the lake You wasn't sure if I was still alive

You and Your Friend | Snake River Conspiracy

Must we go run through our lives with our eyes closed To the loving happiness that we can share I think I'm in love with you and your friend

My Gal, My Guy | Darlingside

My (guy) he's the bluest ocean, (he) Waits under the bluest sky for me I belong to (him) When I'm in the water

Santa Fe | Autoheart

Heaven sent You were like a present I should not have kept A sticker on your forehead saying 'breakable And I broke you bad

Coat on a Hook | The National

Two days, we're still not talking You're the opposite of an open book Come back for me

Top to Toe | Fenne Lily

So I'm changing all my days To make your nights It's just not right

Pigeon Song | Patrick Wolf

Now the pigeons gather 'round my feeding hand And we talk 'til the evening fades I have learnt how it goes What you wait for never shows And what you least wanted, holds you down like a stone

Hornets | The National

But I don't wanna leave And I don't wanna hide I just don't wanna run Into you tonight

Tea, Milk & Honey | Oh Pep!

If you stick with me, I'll make sure your time is all right If you don't understand where I am now, it's better if we leave it

The Spiritual | Jukebox the Ghost

We might have kissed a bit too soon I could feel what was coming and I didn't mean to hurry you I just knew that time would find our fingers linked, through and through Forgive me, I'm human too

Bike Dream | Rostam

Two boys, one to kiss your neck And one to bring you breakfast Get you out of bed

Don't Go | Yazoo

Can't stop now Don't you know I ain't never gonna let you go

Jenny | The Mountain Goats

I hopped on back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you I sank my face into your hair And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious as the warm desert air And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on 900 cc's of raw whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest

Old Old Fashioned | Josh Ritter (Frightened Rabbit cover)

Oh let's get old fashioned Back to how things used to be If I get old, old fashioned Would you get old, old fashioned with me?

[1x20]

hello and welcome to my tutorial on how to create gifs like this one! full explanation under the cut, but if you wanted to take a little peek at the gifset attached to this tutorial, here ya go!

for the purposes of this tutorial i am assuming you know

how to make a gif

what vhs footage looks like

STEP ONE: MAKING YOUR GIF

choose your footage and plug it into your desired software of choice! i use photoshop for this so i can only attest to the efficacy of these methods in that context

as for shot selection, you could feasibly choose anything. however, i prefer shots without too much movement in them - makes it look more like a home video.

because of the heavy amount of colors and filters, i'd recommend a gif somewhere around the 40-50 frames! but of course you can play around.

oh i also set the frame delay to 0.08 seconds. this is slower than most gifmakers tend to set theirs, but it makes it run buttery smooth imo.

STEP TWO: MAKING THE COLORING

here's where we get vhs specific. if you're unfamiliar with vhs footage, i recommend clicking through this youtube playlist! if you're not interested in the coloring, skip to step three (smart object fuckery + filters)

now while making a set i tend to choose some primary colors for my gifs. in the gifset i linked above, i chose to work with blue and orange-y yellow. in some of the other gifs i'll be using as examples (from an unfinished set) i chose green and yellow.

to create the above coloring i generally use these steps:

1) curves

i'm a maniac so i use the same curves layer to initially edit the luminosity AND colors of my gifs. the purpose of this layer is to edit brightness/contrast like i normally would and already start the process of changing the colors a little bit. this is my curves layer for the blue house gif:

to make the gif go from the left image to the right image:

as you can see i used the brightening curves to make the footage a whole lot lighter. i also increased the reds to get rid of the cyan tint a lot of blue footage has, slightly increased the blues, and once again decreased the greens to get rid of any cyan. this does make the blue hue a bit more purple, which is a nice bonus!

as for the gif of the boy, that one's a little harder to show a before and after for, but i'lls how the curves for good measure:

the original shot was already quite bright so i only edited the brightness a litttle bit. because i knew i wanted the gif to be green and yellow, i increased the greens, decreased the reds (except in the shadows), and decreased the blues (to get yellow)

2) channel mixer

now the channel mixer layer takes a little getting used to so i recommend experimenting. ALWAYS USE THIS LAYER ON THE COLOR BLENDING MODE for a more even result.

i use channel mixers to sort of... unify the colors a bit more. for the house gif, for example, i increased the blue channel to +110% blue, but decreased the blue in the red (-12%) to retain the yellow in the window.

if you want me to explain this more in depth, send an ask! it'll be kinda longwinded though

before / after of the boy gif with curves/channel mixer.

3) levels

this is where it starts looking more vhs-y! vhs footage has light shadows and dark highlights.

first, set your levels layer to luminosity blending mode to retain your beautiful colors.

then, crunch the hell out of your gif to make it very... mid.

this may feel a little wrong at first but i prommy it'll look okay at the end. a before/after for the boy:

now that's starting to look familiar right?

4) color fill/gradient map

because i want to unify my colors/make sure my gif is saturated, i usually add either a color fill or gradient map layer. in the case of the house, i chose to go with a dark blue color fill:

because the coloring of the boy gif was a little more complex, i decided to go with a brown to green gradient map.

this will make the shadows yellow, and the highlights green.

BOTH THESE LAYERS ARE SET TO OVERLAY. i usually fiddle with the opacity of them until i like it, but it's anywhere from 7% - 17% depending on what i feel like that day

5) curves (again)

this layer is probably useless but i do it anyway to make myself feel better. this is just a regular curse layer to up the brightness a tiiiiny bit and amke sure everything's clear. also it helps counteract the darkness your overlay color will add in.

6) color balance

this is my most subtle layer so i won't be able to show before and after but i fiddle with the color distribution a little until i'm satisfied. set this layer to color blending 'cause that's what you wanna affect!

i decided i wanted the house gif shadows to be a little more purple, for example, so i added in red (+3), magenta (-1) and blue (+1). etc etc. do what feels good!

STEP THREE: SMART OBJECT FUCKERY AND FILTERS

OKAY that was a lot. sorry or you're welcome. but good news: now's the fun part. convert your animation to a timeline, then select both your coloring and gif layers, right click, and select convert to smart object.

now that your gif's a smart object, i usually crop it. i tend make vhs aes gifs a 4:3 ratio (so 540 x 405 px) because that's what vhs footage was usually recorded as! crop your gif, resize, and then we can continue.

1) color bleeding

vhs footage usually bleeds its colors - this manifests as a short of... weird subtle halo around any object. the way to recreate this in photoshop is to duplicate your smart object.

set your copied smart object to color blending. now move it to the side a couple of pixels (i usually do around 5px, but you do you!)

as you can see, the tree and chimney (and everything else but less prominently) have a yellow shadow to them. this is exactly what we want!

2) filters

now's the time to add your filters and make it look like shit (but on purpose!) first, select both smart objects and convert to smart object again. this will ensure the filters apply to all layers evenly.

i use the following filters:

unsharp mask (amt 35%, radius 4px) - this will subtly add some sharpening but only on the edges of objects

add noise (amt 7.5%, distr. uniform, not monochromatic) - this will add the signature vhs grain.

box blur (2px) - i edit this to be 75% opacity with the little arrows to the right, just to make sure you can still make SOMETHING out when you're looking at the gif. MAKE SURE THIS FILTER IS ON TOP OF YOUR NOISE FILTER. tumblr will kill your gif otherwise

4) ONE LAST THING

usually at this point i'm not happy with either the saturation or levels. (usually the levels). so on top of your smart object, add another saturation or levels layer and fuck around!

in the case of the house gif, i thought it was too bright still so i set my output levels to 13 and 216. for the boy, i thought the shadows were too dark, so i set my shadow output to 11.

BEFORE & AFTER:

aaaand that's it! thanks for reading! if you have any questions, feel free to come to my askbox, i'm always happy to explain my process. happy giffing 🥰

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 18]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

warning: canon typical violence || vomit

“Oh, kiss me, beneath the milky twilight. Lead me out on the moonlit floor, lift your open hand - Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling. So, kiss me.”

You hum along with the song playing quietly in your ear as you scrub the bathtub. It is one of your cleaning nights and you are focused on getting everything back to tip-top shape. The tub currently has a bit of a purple tint to it after you tried a new brand of bubble bath for Minnie - you are lucky she isn’t now grape flavored as well - and you would very much like it gone. It is coming off easier than you expected, but it is taking a fair amount of elbow grease. 

It is easy to space out and listen to music as you work. Your cleaning playlist are songs you can vibe to that you don’t really associate with anything in your life - mostly you think about the movies the song has been featured in - but you are finding, as you scrub and romantic lyrics float through your head, a certain name and face keeps appearing in your mind’s eye. 

You know it isn’t wise for you to develop a crush on Matt - just because you have a daughter together does not mean he wants to kiss you. You know you need to squash the feelings down before you get yourself hurt. 

But sometimes it is nice to have silly impossible daydreams while you are cleaning alone at ten at night. Having a goofy little smile while you picture yourself spinning around a garden in a dance isn’t hurting anyone. You have a good grasp on reality - you just sometimes want to pretend to be the lead in a cheesy 90’s teen romcom - is that too much to ask? 

No one else needs to know Matt has replaced the lead actor. It is a secret just for you. 

As you scrub bleach powder around your purple-haze tub drain, you catch movement reflecting in the shine of the spout. You can’t hear anything over your music - even though you only have one earbud in - so you sit up and turn around. Of course, it is Minnie standing in the doorway, clad in her jammies, and dragging Scooby by his big paw.

You pull the earbud out, frowning to your daughter, “Is everything alright, Mouse? Is my music too loud? Did it wake you up?”

She shakes her head, then in the most miserable voice you have ever heard from her, whines, “My tummy hurts.”

Instantly, you set down your sponge and your earbud so you can go to your daughter, “your tummy hurts?” 

You move to pick her up, wanting to comfort her, but it is made clear she doesn’t want this by stepping back and holding up her toy between the two of you. It hurts, but it passes, as you know you don’t like to be touched when you feel sick, so instead, you kneel down to be in front of her and try to find the root of the problem. 

“How does your tummy hurt?”

She sways side to side, face scrunching up as she self-analyzes. You can see the little wheels turning in her head, but then there is a very subtle shift in her eyes that only years of being a mother makes you notice. With lightning speed, you grab Minnie under her arms and spin around to hold her over the toilet just as her dinner begins to regurgitate. 

Your heart breaks as she empties her stomach and you try to soothe her the best you can, rubbing her little back as she coughs and hacks. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, get it all out. Get all the icky out,” you tell her. 

Luckily, her stomach is small and there is not a lot of expel. Once you are sure she is done, you flush the toilet then close the lid, intent on setting Minnie down so you can clean her up, but of course, now she doesn’t want to be put down. She wiggles and turns until she can bury her head into your neck, sniffling and hiccupping, and clinging to you the best she can. 

You can feel bits of vomit on your neck, but since you aren’t completely covered in it, you try to ignore it in favor of your distressed daughter. You begin to rock her gently, humming one of her favorite lullabies as she processes how distressing throwing up is.

You don’t remember when the last time she got sick was, but you have a guess as to what caused this upset - you tried a new ice cream for dessert tonight. It had made your stomach a bit gurgly and you had solved that with a TUMS. 

It hadn’t occurred to you to ask if Minnie needed one, too. 

A lesson for the future.

Minnie doesn’t dissolve into full on tears and after about two minutes, she pulls back and croaks out, “‘cooby?”

She had dropped the toy when you had first picked her up, so you stretch to grab him for her. She quickly switches to clinging to him and you go right for a washcloth. You wipe down your neck first - you can only handle so much - then start on cleaning up your poor Mouse. 

In a blessing from the gods, she only has a little bit of gunk around her mouth and nose. It doesn’t seem like anything got on her clothes. 

Getting her to rinse her mouth out takes a bit of convincing. 

“It will help the icky taste go away,” you promise, but she just clamps her mouth shut and shakes her head. You very much get why she wouldn’t want anything in her mouth after throwing up, but you also know she needs a good rinse. She only gives in after you demonstrate what you want of her by brushing your teeth and gargling some water. However, the condition is that you have to brush her teeth for her while she squeezes Scooby for dear life. 

Once her mouth is clean and the only sign she was ever sick is her puffy red eyes, you scoop up your baby and bring her out to the living room. 

“How does your tummy feel now?” you ask as you set her on the couch and begin to cocoon her in the throw blanket you keep there. 

Minnie rests her head on top of Scooby’s, lip jutting out into a pout, “Icky. And Hurty.”

“Icky and hurty?” You sympathize. You know well the aftermath of throwing up and how sometimes the aftermath is worse than the event - your stomach often turns sour and you feel drained. You know certain fluids will help relieve this, so you kiss Mouse’s forehead and tell her, “Let me see if we have any things to help.”

“Blue Pedi-lyte?” she asks and you can’t help but smile over how observant and smart your little one is. She may not have thrown up in recent memory - but other digestive problems have occurred, and she clearly remembers enough that the drink helped. 

“Yeah. Let me go see if we have any, okay? Do you want to put on some Mickey?”

“Goofy,” is her quick, but mumbled reply. 

You turn on the television and bring up some Goofy related shorts, then head to the kitchen, hoping you have some old Pedialyte. 

But you don’t. 

You have leftover drinks Karen brought you and the only thing that is comparable to what you promised Minnie is yellow Gatorade. However, you have nothing to turn it blue. You have the feeling that trying to give it to your little one is not going to go well, but you try, nonetheless. You fill a sippy cup halfway with yellow liquid and mentally cross yourself as you bring it to Mouse on the couch.

She takes one look at it before pouting at you, “That’s yellow.”

“I know, sweetie. But we don’t have any blue Pedialyte. We only have yellow Gatorade. It will help your tummy, too.”

To her credit, she takes it and holds it in her lap, looking down at it with disdain. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, then wrinkles up her nose and holds the cup back up to you, “It’s stinky.”

You try to not sigh - lemon-lime is an intense flavor and probably won’t taste the best after vomiting, but it is all you have. You crouch down so you are eye level with your daughter and rub her leg, trying to be encouraging, “I know, but it will help your tummy. Can you try for me?”

She looks between you and the cup about fifteen times, her little eyes full of doubt, before bringing it up to her mouth and taking a sip. She does not swallow - instead she looks disgusted before opening her mouth and letting the drink spill down her chin.

“Oh, no, no, let’s not do that,” you groan. You use your t-shirt - which is luckily your cleaning shirt and gross anyways - to wipe her face and soak up the yellow liquid. 

“Icky,” Mouse informs you, then adds, “I want blue Pedi-lyte. Please?”

You take in your daughter, looking so tiny wrapped up on the couch. How awful it must be to not only be nauseous, but to be so with enhanced senses. You’ve thrown up enough times to know what an unpleasant aftertaste it leaves, so she must be so miserable.

You rub your hands over your face and give in, “Okay, let Mommy go change into real people clothes, and we will go get some for you.”

----

You are no stranger to midnight runs to the bodega two blocks west. You had moved into your current apartment when you were about six months pregnant, and you had spent month seven waddling your way there almost every night for a slice of cake.  The late-night cashier, Sal, practically watched Minnie grow up and he is one of the few people who she will talk to unprompted.  So, you don’t feel embarrassed when you stroll in wearing sweatpants and a band-tank top, with Minnie still in her jammies - Sal has seen you in worse states and at least you aren’t wearing a robe and slippers. 

There’s a couple of college aged boys lingering around the snacks section who smell heavily of marijuana, and they seem more interested in talking about what chips to get than anything, so only your hyper paranoid mind makes you take notice as you make your way to the drink coolers. You pass all the fun things and go to the very back corner of the storefront where the small selection of medicinal goods are. 

Tampons, Tylenol, and band aids are stacked low on the dry goods shelf, and across from them, practically on the floor of the cooler, is one row of Pedialyte. The gods must be smiling on you because it is indeed the blue flavor your daughter is desiring. 

You open the cooler, and with Minnie on your hip, squat down to retrieve your prize. Almost instantly, she starts making grabby hands for it, asking with a bit of a whine, “Mommy, open it.”

“We have to pay for it first, then you can drink it,” you remind her, feeling guilty as you do. You can see the upset in her eyes, and to try and mitigate the damage, you offer, “Do you want to help buy it?”

Mouse, always the eager helper, nods against you, so you hand over the drink, stand, and start making your way to the counter. The stoned boys are debating which chips will leave the least amount of residue on their gaming controllers as you pass them and part of you wants to stop and listen. You don’t have an interest in video games beyond silly ones on your phone, but their passion is intense, and you agree Cheeto dust is one of the worst things in the world. You are lucky Minnie finds them gross and much prefers pretzels as her chip of choice.

As you come up to the checkout, Sal looks up from his phone and gives you a pleasant smile, “Late night snack run?” 

Minnie pipes up before you can, leaning forward as far as she can to hold out the bottle towards him, “I wanna buy this, please, thank you.”

Sal, ever kind, reaches across the counter to get it so you don’t have to try to lean in, “Ahhh, no snacks. Tummy troubles?”

“Tummy troubles,” you confirm. You dig into your purse for your wallet as he begins to ring you up.

Sal clicks his tongue in sympathy, before telling you, “My daughter, Sasha, the tall one, she always had the tummy troubles, too. Turns out, she was allergic to corn. Do you know how much corn is in everything in America?”

You make a face at that because you do, in fact, know how much corn is in everything. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

In your arms, always wanting to mimic you, Minnie gives a solemn nod to Sal, “Sorry to hear.”

Sal laughs warmly, “You are kind. I hope your tummy troubles are not from corn, but too many sweets.” 

That makes Mouse giggle, which warms your heart. When you are told the total, you hand her your card to hand over to Sal. The sweet man swipes it, then addresses Minnie, “Debit or credit?”

Despite not knowing what that means, she instantly replies with, “Credit!” making you smile all the more. 

“Yes, we will charge it,” he says. The receipt prints and he hands that and the card back to you before bagging the Pedialyte in a little black baggie and handing that to Minnie. “Your purchase, little ma’am.” 

“Thank you!” she chimes, and you thank Sal as well. The college boys have finally decided on their snack, so you vacate the counter so they can make their purchase, wishing the cashier a good rest of his night. 

As you exit the bodega, Minnie bonks your arm with the bagged bottle, “Mommy, open it now. We buyed it.” 

“Okay, okay.”

You set her down on the ground, then get the bottle out so you can crack it open. You help your little one take a few careful sips and once she is done, she smacks her lips. 

“Not icky?” You ask and she gives a big nod in response. 

“Not icky.”

“How is your tummy?”

Her fist goes right into her mouth as she thinks over the question. You use the time to recap the drink and drop it back into the bag, then put that into your purse. 

“It feels like jumping dinosaurs,” Mouse finally tells you, “Going ‘bah bah bah’. Like sheepies.”

You have no idea what that is supposed to mean, but you guess that she feels better. She seems more chipper, which isn’t what you need closing in on midnight. If you don’t get home soon and get her back into bed, you are going to have a very grumpy toddler in the morning. 

Which will go great with your expected grumpiness - you still have to finish cleaning the bathroom and who knows how long that is going to take. You’ll need to redo the toilet and throw a load of laundry into the wash. You’ll probably get to bed around two if you are lucky.

So, with the complete intention of tiring your daughter out, you ask her, “Do you want to walk back home holding Mommy’s hand?”

Which completely does the trick and Minnie takes your hand so you can walk back home together, and you begin heading that way. 

Despite being the city that never sleeps, the streets around you are pretty empty. You haven’t come across any other foot traffic and you’ve only seen a few cars roll by, so to you, it seems like a quiet night.

You wonder if that is how Minnie sees it - or in her case - hears it. 

It has been mind boggling learning her range of hearing and how much input she must constantly receive.

Matt is still working on making you his binder - Karen has apparently taken to copy editing it - but he has given you a preview of a few pages and you can barely comprehend it. You think you would go insane if you could hear everyone talking all at once, all the time. Your anxiety would be astronomical, but your sweet Mouse doesn’t seem bothered in day-to-day life.

You’ve been watching her play more and more and you’ve been learning what catches her attention and interests. To your surprise, it has been music. The little wiggles and shakes she sometimes does is apparently her interpretation of dancing and you have been making her a little playlist for her birthday. You think a dance party would be a fun thing to do the night before the zoo trip, to help get out all her energy. You haven’t told her this yet, but you did ask her to let you know when she hears a song she wants to dance to, so you can look into it. 

You don’t want to add anything inappropriate after all. 

You look down at your daughter as you walk, a little smile coming to your face. She’s watching her feet, and it looks like she’s trying to step on her own shadow without making a big deal of it. You’ve seen her do that before or try to walk one foot in front of the other. You aren’t the fastest walker - you tend to stroll - so you never worry about her games slowing you down. 

Plus, if it wears her out, all the better for you. 

You are about half a block away from your building when Minnie suddenly halts and whirls her head back towards the bodega. Curious, you stop as well, wondering what she has heard now. 

“What is it, sweetie?” 

“There’s a hoot-hoot!” She whisper-yells, looking up to you with the biggest, purest smile. 

Your heart practically bursts from your chest with love and your smile grows to match hers, “A hoot-hoot? Can you tell me about the hoot-hoot?”

She nods, then you watch in slow motion as your daughter’s absolute joy morphs into that of horror and before you can even process what is happening, something is ripping you away from Minnie by the base of your neck. 

You are pivoted left and slammed face first into the brownstone staircase you were just walking by. Your vision goes spotty as pain erupts from the center of your forehead - confusion and panic begin to consume you. 

All you can hear is your daughter screaming in fear.

You have no idea what is going on, but all you know is Minnie needs you, and that ignites something deep and primal in your chest.

There is something grabbing and pulling at your top and your purse - which you wear crossbody - and you realize someone is trying to mug you. Fear fills you as you struggle to get away, break free, but whoever it is is stronger than you and keeps slamming you back against the stone.

“Mommy!”

The thing inside your chest bursts to life when you hear Minnie cry for you and you kick backwards best you can, trying to dislodge your attacker. Your foot catches their knee and both of you go tumbling to the ground. You hit the cement hard only to be crushed under the weight of your assailant as they land on top of you. 

You refuse to stay still, squirming and trying to army crawl out from under the mugger, but they easily overpower you. Hands wrap around your throat from behind and you are temporarily overwhelmed by the stench of body odor and filth. You are pressed down into the sidewalk for a split second before being yanked back and you just barely manage to turn your face as you are violently forced back down again. Gravel and glass tear at your cheek. 

Something tangles itself into your hair and your head is once again being pulled back, but you won’t give up. You reach back over your head and grab onto the arm of the person attacking you. You feel flesh, so you curl your fingers and dig your nails in the best you can. 

There is a feral, pained yowl, then your head meets the ground again, but it doesn’t stop. They are trying to push you down into the sidewalk using all their weight, like they are trying to crush your skull.

You kick and buck as hard as you are able to, thrashing desperately in an attempt to break away. The pain is quickly becoming all encompassing, but Minnie is crying, and you need to get to her.

You try to get an arm under you, to try and help to push you up, but there is so much weight and all of it is centered on your upper back and skull.

You can’t get up. 

You can’t get to Minnie. 

You can’t save your daughter.

There is a deep and furious roar, then the crushing weight of your attacker is ripped off of you.  

You gasp for breath as you quickly roll onto your side, terrified you're going to be pushed back into the dirt and smothered. Your vision is swimming, blurry and half black, and everything, everything hurts. 

“DADDY!” 

Your eyes snap open and you try to push yourself up onto shaky arms. You try to turn around to find your daughter, but your body doesn’t want to obey anymore, and you collapse back onto the ground. You force your legs to move the best you can, trying to roll until you can find your daughter. 

“Minnie..” you try to call out but you aren’t sure if any noise escapes your lips.

“Mommy!”

The darkness wraps itself around you and begins to drag you down into its depths. The last thing your mind catches before it switches off is your little Mouse, screaming for you.

“MOMMY!”

“MOMMY!!”

---

:3C

---

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath 

 @allllium

@anehkael

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

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@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@

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@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood@mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

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@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

[cherriesxinthespring]

WASTELAND, BABY!– ellie williams x reader

hi! I'm writing a new series that happens after the events of TLOU II. it's an enemies to lovers. A story about ellie eventually finding happiness and love again. She finds her light; and so do you.

Before you read the summary– please read this. Free Palestine. Do not consume tlou fanfics without educating yourself about its zionist themes.

this story is only posted on ao3. read it here.

*SUMMARY: You had decided to give life one last try. That was it. After the events in The Last of Us Part II, Ellie decides that the only way to find peace is to turn herself in to the fireflies. She finds a lead; they tell her to find you, a young woman who wanders around with no purpose. When she eventually does, you refuse to tell her where the fireflies are; if she finds them, everything that you did in your past would've been for nothing.

You embark on a journey together, walking through rain, snow and through the darkest places this cruel world has to offer. What neither of you expect, broken and traumatized, is to find the light again in each other.

"For the world is Hell, and people are on the one hand the tormented souls and on other the devils in it." (Schopenhauer, On the suffering of the world)

LINKS: read it here. playlist.

C.W/GENERAL TAGS: enemies to lovers, AFAB reader, eventual smut, gun violence, ellie kinda kidnaps you?, suicidal ideation (both ellie and reader), r! is wounded, PTSD and trauma, triggering flashbacks. canon violence in the game, depression. overall heavy themes, but happy ending i promise!

CHAPTER 1: One last try. You encounter Ellie. She follows the trail of blood you were leaving. You refuse to give her the information she wants. So, she drags you through the entire state of Montana. "You’re bold for someone unarmed and bruised, with a gun pointed to their head"

CHAPTER 2: Courage, dear heart. A small flame inside you ignites. you finally have a purpose; to mislead her, and to escape from her. You come up with a plan, and that involves earning her trust. just enough until she becomes sloppy. But you can't let her see your skills; she might see you as a threat. That plan quickly goes to waste when you encounter a large group of clickers.

“I could kill you right now,” she said, holding your own knife against your throat. Her knuckles were white from how much force she was using. Her features were almost unrecognisable.  “Then you’d break your promise,” you said. “Promises mean nothing in this world.” 

CHAPTER 3: No one left to sing to The rain doesn't stop, so you and this strange girl are forced to stay inside the cave. You're feverish, disoriented. After a conversation in which she mentions the fireflies, you decide to go through her journal to find answers. And you do.

"Are you a firefly?" she asked, like she had just read your mind, or you were thinking out loud. “not a firefly,” you said. you held back a laugh, but she saw the flash of a smirk. You, the reason why they were gone after Salt Lake City, a firefly. “Definitely not.” you paused.  “are you?” you asked. “No.”

CHAPTER 4– Your blinding light (flashback chapter)

Summer 2033, Boston QZ You waited for Hannah to come to you. Life in the QZ was simple for you; being confined in between four walls, listening to your mom's Beatles cassettes, and sneaking out past curfew. That is, until your mom slowly starts abandoning you. "Maybe Hannah was the only one you had, after all"

CHAPTER 5– This darkness i'm condemned to

Ellie and you finally reach the nearest town. And your plan is successful; you finally lead her to danger. What you failed to account for is that this danger can harm you, too.

“took them out right?" you said, trying to test the waters. Trying to sound lighthearted, but failing completely at it.  "Damn right you did," she said.

CHAPTER 6– The injury of finally knowing

taglist: since i impulsively deleted my old account, i'm tagging my old taglist. it's still me! the bitch that wrote the abby greys anatomy AU! you can still join my taglist here

@kissesskittens @zahraaziza @uraesthete @elsvrse @lonelyfooryouonly @ximtiredx @ellabsprincess @spaceshipellie @machetegirl109 @sc0ttstre3ted @taylarxse @carmellie @mayfieldsz @brooklynvwilliams @rinarchy @elliesgffr @wannabwanted @ellabsweet @sapphic-and-sappy @imyour-favouritegirl @andersonsgirl @heyabimina @novadanversss @mulan-but-gay @lez-zuha @abbys-sweat-wife @maribelo-o @peppesgirl

if your name is crossed out, it means I can't tag you– please check your settings and follow these steps!

dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[writingstoraes]

the other side 🥡

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe

about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others

ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️

(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)

christianhorner I have no words....

ynhorner see u at home 😘

redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

maxverstappen ??? Hello

ynhorner hi, max :)

daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face

hamilecs not charles liking this 😭

sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤

ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others

ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡

therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊

ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)

lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️

britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏

ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆

ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!

ynhorner

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others

ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️

queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver

charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???

paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC

ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅

maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist

ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others

ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️

merchamilton someone check up on christian quick

sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭

ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!

charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?

ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda

paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️

maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐

christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.

------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)

notes: tysm for reading <3

[drdemonprince]

Can you offer any (academic) writing advice for Autistics and ADHDers? You clearly write a lot and write very well and very clearly, so some insight into your process would be great. Personally, I tend to struggle with over explaining or over citing (cause I am always getting misunderstood) and that I get very fixated on not misrepresenting what my sources are saying to avoid feeling like I'm lying. All this is time consuming and makes it hard to say what I really want to say. Thanks!

Hi there! I've written an essay about a lot of this, here is the free link to read it on Medium:

Much of my writing process is inspired by the book How to Write a Lot by Paul Silvia, and it is specifically tailored to academics. The advice applies to people who write popular nonfiction or fiction just as easily, however. And he does have advice relevant to the self-editing and self-doubt you describe feeling.

The full piece gets into this more, but here are some of the stand-out tips:

Schedule a regular time to write every week and show up no matter whether you are feeling it or not.

Throw out all your magical thinking about what you "need" to be able to write. You don't need the perfect workspace, divine inspiration, the right pen, the right playlist. You just need to show up to write regularly, and do it

Editing, outlining, working with research notes, and drafting all count as "writing." Don't expect your initial drafts to be perfect or to equate writing only with getting new words on the page.

Try writing in public spaces to help get yourself in the mindset of explaining a concept to someone with a different frame of reference and type of expertise than you. Writing in a cafe or a public library can force you think and write in a more accessible way. (alternatively, you can pretend you are explaining the concept to a specific person in your life who you respect but who doesnt have all the same reference points as you -- sometimes this is called the "Grandma Test". Explain something like you are talking to your grandma.)

In addition to all this, I would add that you should read a lot of writing, both good and bad, especially work that isn't dry and academic. If all you read is journal articles, you'll write a journal article -- and most of those are hell to read, even for academics. read fiction. read bad wattsapp shipping. read substacks. read newspapers. read indulgent personal nonfiction in the cut or whatever. read reddit posts. notice what works and what doesn't. develop an ear.

and then write a lot! it took me 15 years to get good enough for anything i wrote to get noticed. you can expect to take many years to get comfortable developing your own voice, too. i dont know how far along you are, but even when you've made tremendous progress you'll only notice your flaws and feel the most turgid brain foggy moments. that doesn't mean you're failing.

also, to some extent you can embrace your citation-dense, precise manner of self-expression. we are living in a moment of maximalism and indulgent, long creative works. it's the decade of the 5 hour youtube essay and the 2 hour album. my 5,000 word essays do better than my 2,000 word ones. you should strip down unnecessary tangents and trust yourself and your reader a little more probably, but ive found that the more blatantly autistic and indulgent my writing gets the more the right people like it. a writer's flaws and their distinctive voice are kinda hard to separate. you're not for everyone!

good luck!

[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Synopsis: In theory, telepathy is a great power that can help the person understand the other better, learn dark secrets, or just be a little nosey. In your case, though, theory doesn’t always reflect reality. Slowly turning your head to the source of the (tremendously) loud thought, you saw the infamous Vice Housewarden of Octavinelle, Jade Leech. A polite, yet inscrutable smile on his face, Jade’s thoughts betrayed his nonchalant facade. Aaaaaaaah! I’m sitting in front of Y/N! I just wanna turn around and stare. Aaaaah! Little pearl, your voice is so cute, talk some more! Y/N’s class introduction…their voice was… really cute. Their moans are probably really cute too. Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit how the hell do I turn this off??? Loosely based on “Mousou Telepathy”

a03 link

spotify playlist

fanart: @nefe-kav (1/2/3/4/5/6)

[cw] – sexual humor and innuendos

[tags] – fluff, sexual humor, slightly aged-up characters, slow burn, mutual pining, more tags to follow

Edited 2/19/2024: added accompanying playlist and added all chapters with their titles

Chapter List:

chapter 1: I wonder if you look both ways (when you cross my mind)

chapter 2: I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me!

chapter 3: They say it’s gotten out of hand, and I’m obsessed with you

chapter 4: This thing called love, I just can’t handle it

chapter 5: I wanna go on walks with you, I wanna have long talks with you

chapter 6: I'm feeling blessed by a curse

chapter 7: No matter what they say, You'll never meet another me [PENDING]

chapter 8: Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

chapter 9: Bhfuilis soranna sorcha, Ach tagais 'nós na hoíche

chapter 10: Before the dawn has come, I'd block the sun (If you want it done)

chapter 11: Son of Nyx (and thoughts of a moray)

chapter 12: Perfection is so quick to bore

chapter 13: My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know

chapter 14: You were steerin' my heart like a wheel in your hands (Turn back, darling)

chapter 15: I can hear your thoughts light a melody

[roo-bastmoon]

Thrive out spite, if necessary

The vast majority of the time, I go through the world trying to magnify the good--at least, out loud. But sometimes, life hands me a big pile of shit. (It does that to everyone.)

One of the huge shifts I had in my global perspective happened about two years ago when I had a steep uphill battle with uterine cancer. And I realized that... too much shit results in toxic shock and can kill a person. You can't take all that in and hold on to it.

Sometimes, you have to take shit and use it to fertilize your crops.

Sometimes, you have to accept that life isn't fair, and that it hands you so much shit, that if you don't start using that to your advantage, to focus and motivate you, you will get buried.

No one wants to die under a mound of shit.

It's very very VERY clear to me that the Western music industry is scared of BTS and that people in their own companies have it out for Jimin in particular. There's been issues with every release, of course, and I'm no solo or anti--but it's so, SO blatant now that Geffen executives feel empowered to mock ARMY requests for presale links on an open timeline.

And I'll be real with you, when I saw this shit unfold last night, I felt... RAGE. Because every member of BTS is a good person and a hardworking, talented artist in their own right. They all deserve the very best. But my bias in particular is one of the kindest, most humble, most altruistic people on the planet--he has never been difficult or ego-driven--and he does not deserve to be hobbled this way.

So I intend to work extra, extra hard for him. I will shovel through the shit and I will buy, and stream, and vote like a madwoman, until the very end. Even if they cull his numbers and sabotage his charts, his profits in sales and the noise made online will show him--it wasn't all for naught. He's seen, he's heard, he's appreciated, he's loved. (To be honest, he could show up in an empty grass field and sing through a bullhorn and I'd still find a way to get there and scream my lungs out for him. Nothing's gonna stop Park Jimin.)

If you're as enraged as I am and you want to do something productive with that energy, stream the hell out of your playlists and ask at least one family member and one friend to promise to buy SGMB this Friday.

And remember:

Most of the time, things blossom out of love.

But sometimes, you have to thrive out of spite.

Much love,

Roo

[tteokdoroki]

✩࿐TRACK 03: WAR WITH HEAVEN. izuku midoriya (2K)

about. upon spending time apart from your pro-hero fwb, deku, for a work trip — he quickly realises he wants it all with you. heaven, hell and life on earth.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! suggestive, sfw, slight angst, fluff, happy ending, sneaky links, long distance relationships, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, friends with benefits to lovers, journalist + fem!reader, pro hero!deku.

things to note. another saturday is upon us and so is another instalment!! i really like this one n can’t believe we’re half way through already !! anyways i hope you enjoy <3 - masterlist / series masterlist / series playlist ✩

whether you believe it or not, izuku midoriya has never been hopelessly in love. 

like most people with an overexposure to romance saturated media — the number one hero has always had that nagging feeling, craving for something more. the person to come home to, the partner, the kids and the dog that chews through the white picket fence or makes a mess on the freshly cut lawn. he wants a family like most individuals. but with a schedule as busy and a lifestyle as reckless as his…there’s hardly any time for izuku’s dreams. 

dreams were for losers, anyways. 

after high school, izuku quickly learned that dreaming wasn’t enough to get by even if it had motivated him to become a hero. reality is harsh and full of hard truths — bearing the responsibility of future number one and being all might’s prodigy had taught him that. so his rose tinted view of the future he had planned for himself quickly collapsed, the stain glass window shattering above him while its shards nicked at izuku’s youthful, hopeful skin.

he wasn’t so pure and good after leaving U.A — at least not in front of the public. behind closed doors izuku was a pessimist. he was sly and maybe a little sleazy, always on the prowl for something or someone to toy with. little deku was all grown up, no longer baby-faced and bright eyed but instead buffer with an unfairly tiny waist and an angular sharpness to his jaw that could cut diamonds. 

he was attractive and he knew it — his new found confidence bled into his sex appeal and sky rocketed his popularity and now…the number one controls the whole of Japan in the palm of his hand. everybody wants a taste of the new and improved izuku midoriya. 

everyone including you. 

mindless hookups, despite being easy stress relief, always left izuku with a sour taste in his mouth. conservations with the elite that happened to stumble into his bed never went further than superficial talk and the odd ‘lets do this again sometime’s. he hated how people would change around him, clinging onto him after a night in the sheets like deku owed them a piece of his soul. 

being the number one was no longer enough for hungry mouths. sex no longer satisfied those in his circle. 

that was until he met you. the first time deku encountered you (at a hero press junket), you had been a shy intern journalist forced to follow around her mentor with an extreme lust for the green haired hero. he felt bad for you, you were obviously there to learn and do your job but the senior professional they’d stuck you with couldn’t help but slobber all over him instead of teaching you. 

half-way through the junket, izuku had managed to sneak away from the pestering paparazzi to get a moment to himself — and it seemed, you’d had similar ideas. his initial assessment of your character was way off too. you were quiet, sure, but observant and snarky as well. a realist just like him. and somehow, you’d managed to convince him to leave to conference; get drinks at a secret roof top bar for only the highest members of japanese hero society, and talk and talk for hours about everything and anything. from quirks to the best snack combinations at the only kombini open past three AM on your street.

izuku liked you, he hadn’t felt such a spark for someone since his rookie days. you were cute, he couldn’t stop looking at your eyes and how they sparkles. your lips when you sipped the drinks he ordered for you and the way you instinctively leaned up to deku just to hear what he was saying. 

the way you ended up in his bed that night was no mystery to either of you. 

except the sensual and sultry night you shared together didn’t end there — at every event, every occasion, where journalists were required to be present, you found yourselves gravitating towards one another. one moment you’d be sharing bedroom eyes with one another from across the room and the next deku would have you bent over in bathroom stalls, his hushed moans in your ear and his fingers deep in your mouth to keep you quiet.  

months went by and the sex didn’t stop, neither of you wanted it to. you made izuku feel a little bit whole again, you made him feel good and made him laugh all in the same breath. he didn’t just like it when you left your claim on his neck bordering the line of keeping your rendezvous a secret and letting the whole world find out — but he liked it when you stayed over and wore his shirts around his luxury apartment. or came to hang out with him at his private gym with a bag of cheat-day take-out katsudon and an earful of gossip from your office. 

deku really liked you, more than he should’ve for a girl who was meant to be just a fling, more than he should’ve for someone who didn’t have time in his day for a lover.

“did you get over me?” the hero pouts into the FaceTime call, watching you struggle to grab your luggage off of the conveyer belt in baggage claim. if he were there, he’d have gotten it for you by now.

despite not being anything serious to one another, izuku had made it a habit to weasel his way into your everyday life. you sent cute little good morning and goodnight texts to one another, along with other messages like ‘get home safe’ and ‘have a good day’ too. those text messages quickly escalated to phone calls once the green haired number one admitted to you that it’s hard to fight crime whilst looking for the right kao emoji to send you.

you roll your eyes, coy smile budding on the edges of your lips. “it’s only been two hours, izuku.” you say, finally managing to grab your bag before you head out to the main lobby of the airport.

one thing about that man, is that he’s clingy as fuck. all of your attention has to be on him or he’ll feel like he might die. with you being away for the weekend at a journalism conference instead of in his arms, izuku feels like he might burn the whole world down from the ground up. just to be near you.

either that or he’s just extremely pussy whipped. 

“streets are sayin’ you might sleep with that guy from your team while you’re there, is that true?” deku fires back, running a scarred hand through the mass of curls atop his head. he lets it run down to smooth over his face, peach fuzz starting to grow through — but you made him promise not to shave until the day after you got back. apparently his light stubble against your inner thighs made you cum so much—

“—i don’t even like him like that, you big baby,” you tell him matter of factly, cutting through his train of thought and bringing your phone up to your face once more to let emerald eyes peek down your sweater. “and i think he’d get the hint if he saw all these damn marks on my neck.” 

pink blooms underneath the freckles on midoriya’s cheeks at the sight of the purple hues decorating your neck and shoulders. he remembers the extra turtlenecks you had to pack because of it. “couldn’t help it, i needed to give you a reminder of what you’d be missing while you were away from me.” 

“you’re so dramatic, deku.” 

“oh, you wound me, angel.” he purrs into the mic with a sly grin, knowing that he’s affecting you just as much as he misses you. especially when you give him a pointed glare. izuku let’s the conversation wither out as you order yourself an uber that’ll take you the hotel. he can’t help but chuckle when you perk up and notice the amount of money he’s sent you to cover the costs of it. “yanno…” deku mumbles, resting his cheeks on his knuckles. “you’re like heaven away from hell to me.” 

you won’t admit how sexy he looks, even if izuku is all googly-eyed and soft for you. even if his forest green locks curl over his pretty eyes and hide them. it almost pisses you off. that he’s so blissfully unaware of how fucking pretty he is and how that mere fact manages to ruin you you even though you’re miles apart. “what’s hell, then?”

“my work. this city. this apartment, without you.” he says smoothly, filling your stomach with butterflies. izuku has a away about him that makes you feel like you’re his entire world and only his — but there’s never been any strings attached, you’ll never fully be his and he’ll very much be the nation’s hero (and dick) until someone manages to tie him down. 

“are you asking me to move in with you, izuku?” there’s no expectancy in your voice — you say it mostly as a joke because you have no idea how much the number one pines for you. how tonight, he’ll drink himself into a stupor with his friends and whine to them about how much he misses you. izuku may have changed on the outside, may be stronger and faster but he’s still that insecure teenager on the inside. 

he has to force his knees to stop knocking whenever you’re around. he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat whenever he thinks about the possibility of you being with someone who isn’t you. he feels sick to the stomach and panics at the thought of losing you. you mess with deku’s head in the worst of ways and yet he finds himself wanting more. nevertheless, he smiles, loving how his name sounds on the sweet glaze of your lips. 

“you’ve got a place in my bed. you’re always here anyways.” 

“you’d never let me leave it, if you had a say in the matter.” 

“you’d never have to work again if you let the number one hero take care of you angel.” izuku sighs longingly, giving you his cutest pair of puppy dog eyes that never fail to make you swoon. “but you love your job.” 

“i do.” your uber pulls up and you reply curtly so you can properly greet your driver. they aid you with your suitcase and you slip your headphones on while in the back seat to keep your special conversation private. 

“do you love me?” he can’t help but ask. izuku is hopelessly enamoured by you, you’re like a virus that’s spread across his brain and controls his every thought or action. he needs you like his lungs need oxygen to breathe — you’ve changed him for the better, shown him that maybe he can have both work and luxury. a family and foundation. with you, if you’d want him. 

“izuku.” you warn, but playfully.

“so it’s true,” the hero drawls across the line in faux disappoint  though his eyes speak mischief. “you only like me for my cock ‘n my money.” you can practically hear the pout on his pretty plump lips. 

a fondness takes over you and you can’t help but squirm happily. “and your pretty boy smile,” you squeal cutely, filling midoriya with the same amount of fondness “don’t forget.”

“so you do love me.” 

“i can’t answer that until you ask what you want to ask me properly.” 

“alright then,” sitting up, deku grasps at his phone between shaky fingers and holds it above his head — giving you the perfect view of his freckled and scared (and chiselled) body. he chews on the swell of his lower lip, dancing around the question he knows he wants to ask. “angel. i want you. more than just a fling. i want you to be mine.” he blurts, closing his eyes so that his thoughts come easy and he can’t see you reject him.

midoriya doesn’t know what he would do if he lost you, he’s seen what losing your love has done to his friends. kirishima and his partner had almost broken up with each other recently. he’d be a mess in that situation.  izuku has faced too many hardships in his life, his career, to let this one good thing slip from between his fingers. 

“will you? be mine?”

he sees you poke your tongue into your cheek, laughing as you pretend to think. “i will, izuku. i want nothing more,” you coo. “keep my side of the bed warm. i’ll be home soon.” 

relief floods through deku’s body. “don’t be too long, gorgeous.” with a couple of blow kisses, he lets you go with the reminder to call him back once you’re settled in at the hotel (so he can pay for your room service). it’s only when you’re alone again that izuku realises he’d rip stars from the sky to be with you, pull the heavens right down to earth to be by your side.

you’re everything to izuku, and for you, he’d go to war with heaven. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.