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astrcmoni · 2 months ago

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℘ ࣪₊ bleeding blue ࣪₊ ㅤㅤ℘

MASTERLIST

synopsis: after destroying her hair, billie turns to you, her fiancé, in hopes of you being able to fix it.

genre: fluff

pairing: cosmetologist fem!reader x billie eilish

wc: 10.8k

warnings: slight cussing

authors note: i know y’all see how long this is, if there is any spelling mistakes or continuity errors ignore it, i was up for 2 days. enjoy x 💋

the hair salon is quiet now, the hum of blow dryers and chatter replaced by a peaceful stillness. the sunset pours through the large glass window, casting a golden haze over everything it touches. soft amber and pink rays stretch across the polished floors, catching on stray hair strands and scattering delicate reflections off the mirrors and the chrome edges of styling chairs. shadows of tall ferns and succulents perched on the counter sway gently, their movements dappled by the fading light. the air still carries the faint traces of shampoo and hairspray, mingling with the rich warmth of the evening, as if the room itself is exhaling, releasing the weight of the day into the tender embrace of the setting sun.

your last client had left over an hour ago, leaving you with just enough time to clean up and dream of how good your bed will feel once you finally sink into it. now, in the corner of the room, you’re sitting under the hooded dryer—not because you need it, but because it’s your favorite chair in your booth. its worn leather hugs your body, offering a secluded cocoon, perfect for resting after a long day of standing.

you lazily scroll through your phone, the cool screen contrasting with the slight ache in your hands. you tap open the messages app, clicking the second most recent contact—it pulls up your fiancé’s profile, her name sitting at the top in bold letters.

you: almost done, cleaning up and i’m omw home. 💗

a small smile tugs at your lips as you glance at the text, thumb hovering before tapping the blue arrow to send it. you’re about to switch over to instagram when the soft creak of the front door opening cuts through the silence.

your eyebrows knit together, your smile fading into a frown as confusion prickles at the edges of your mind. instinctively, your eyes flick toward the entrance, words already forming on your tongue, ready to tell whoever it is to leave and come back tomorrow.

but then, there she is.

billie stands in the doorway, framed by the last lingering rays of sunlight that sneak through the glass. she’s wearing her oversized tour zip-up, her name stitched neatly on the chest. the royal blue thread contrasts sharply with the heavy yellow fabric, the colors a loud declaration against the soft, muted tones of the salon. her thumb grazes her bottom lip, the tip of her nail caught lightly between her teeth as she crosses her ankles.

the lanyard of her car keys hangs outside the pocket of her sweats, a bold red and black that sways slightly as she shifts her weight. the key fob itself is tucked away neatly, hidden. her star beanie is tugged low over her head, barely peeking out beneath the hood of her sweatshirt, which is pulled up and cinched just enough to hide all of her hair.

“hey, baby,” she says, her voice syrupy, dripping with a softness that only she could manage. the corners of her lips press together in a tight, almost apologetic smile, but there’s a flicker of amusement there—a twitch of mischief that she just can’t seem to hide.

her wide, doe-like eyes dart toward you, then quickly away, like a child caught red-handed. guilt and playfulness swim together in her gaze, her cheeks tinged faintly pink. she bites her bottom lip, the expression teetering between sweet and sheepish, her fingers fidgeting at the hem of her hoodie as though it’ll keep her hands from giving her away.

it’s the kind of look that says: i know i messed up, but come on—you can’t really stay mad at me, can you?

you straighten in your seat, eyes narrowing as you take in her stance, her tone, her very presence in a place she knows she shouldn’t be after hours.

“what did you do?” you ask, your voice sharp with suspicion but softened by the ghost of a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“okay, so please don’t be mad,” she says, stepping further inside, her voice carrying that sugary lilt she always uses when she knows she’s done something questionable. her fingers clasp loosely together at first, but then they start to fidget, her thumbs tracing uneven circles over each other—slow, deliberate, and trembling. the motion falters, sometimes smooth, other times jerky, betraying the nervous energy humming beneath her calm façade. with each rotation, her thumbs press a little harder, as if the movement alone could ground her spiraling thoughts. even when her hands shift positions, the circling doesn’t stop, the weight of her tension held in that small, silent gesture.

“billie,” you warn, your tone light but firm, enough to let her know you’re not in the mood for whatever nonsense she’s about to throw your way.

her feet shuffle as she moves quickly across the room, closing the gap between you with a hurried urgency. before you can say another word, she’s on her knees in front of you, her hands reaching to cradle your own. the cool press of her engagement ring brushes against your skin—a sharp but gentle reminder of the promises you’ve both made, the weight of forever between you.

“first of all, i love you,” she whispers, her voice careful, the words wrapped in precision as she tilts her head up to meet your gaze. her expression teeters on the edge of vulnerability, her wide blue eyes swimming with a confession she’s not quite ready to say aloud.

your eyes narrow as suspicion prickles up your spine. “billie.” the repetition of her name carries a sharper edge now, though it’s softened by the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“and second…” her voice trails off as she reaches for her hood. slowly, she pulls it down, followed by the star-patterned beanie covering her head. when her hair finally comes into view, the mess of it hits you like a freight train.

your jaw drops. the usual cascade of silky brown strands is now a disaster—a patchy, uneven palette of brassy yellows, burnt orange streaks, and sections so dark they seem almost untouched. the back looks half-finished, with random tufts sticking out like stubborn weeds refusing to blend.

in shock, you reach out, your fingers lightly grazing her damp hair before cupping her jaw to turn her head from side to side. the light from the window catches the chaotic patches, making the disaster even more glaring. your brows knit together as disbelief bubbles out in a soft, incredulous laugh.

“billie. what the hell is this?” you finally manage, your tone caught between amusement and horror.

she winces, the sheepish grin on her face growing wider. “i tried to do it myself,” she admits, her voice a hurried tumble of words. before you can respond, she’s already jumping to defend herself. “it was a box dye, okay? it looked so easy, but it wasn’t. now it’s a hot ass mess. save me, please.” her hands clasp together, fingers intertwining as she looks up at you with a desperate, pleading expression.

you groan, the ache in your feet from the long day suddenly feeling heavier. “of course, you would try to dye your hair at home,” you mutter, leaning back in your chair. your eyes scan the spotless, freshly cleaned station you’d been so close to leaving behind.

“but billie, i just cleaned everything,” you complain, dragging the words out with a soft groan.

“i’ll buy you dinner,” she interrupts quickly, her lips curving into a hopeful smile.

your eyebrow arches, unimpressed. “you buy me dinner all the time. you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

without missing a beat, she grabs your right hand—the one adorned with the diamond ring she gave you—and presses a kiss to your palm. the warmth of her lips lingers as she trails kisses upward, along your wrist, the sensation leaving a soft buzz in its wake.

“and dessert,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your wrist before working their way up your arm. her kisses grow slower, more deliberate, each one sending shivers racing down your spine.

“i’ll get you anything you want,” she whispers as her mouth grazes the curve of your neck, her words melting into the skin there.

your resolve wavers, her lips trailing a path of heat along the sweet spot of your neck until she finally stops, pulling back just enough to hover inches from your face. her thumb rubs soothing circles along the back of your hand, her eyes wide and shimmering as they lock onto yours. “baby, just please help me fix this,” she pleads, her voice soft and breathless.

you sigh, your gaze trailing over her disheveled form. she’s on her knees, hair an absolute wreck, begging you to fix it with promises of whatever you want. the vulnerability in her voice tugs at you, her cute, flushed face making it nearly impossible to say no.

“fine,” you relent, passing her your phone. the tension in her shoulders melts as she exhales a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. slipping your phone into her pocket, she stands, her fingers brushing against yours as you lead her to the salon chair.

“thank you so much,” she whispers, her voice soft as she peppers kisses over your knuckles. her lips are warm, reverent, each touch delicate and lingering, like a silent apology.

you grab the back of the sleek black chair, spinning it around so billie can face the large vanity mirror. the gold and white accent jibbitz on your black crocs catch the light as your foot pumps the chair’s pedal, raising it to your height.

the soft buzz of the hvac fills the quiet salon, mingling with the faint sounds of a reality tv show playing faintly in the background. you move toward the cabinet, the cool metal handle pressing against your fingers as you open it to retrieve what you need.

you gather the essentials—sectioning clips, brushes, bowls, dye bottles in various shades of blue, shampoo, and conditioner—all of it placed into a plastic tub. setting it on the counter in front of billie, you grab a cape and apron from the nearby rack, the fabric smooth and familiar against your fingers.

slipping the apron over your head, you tie it behind your back before draping the cape over billie’s shoulders. the velcro tabs fasten snugly around her neck, securing her for what you both know will be a long evening ahead.

billie digs into the pocket of her sweatpants, pulling out her phone with the lazy precision of someone buying time. her fingers swipe absently across the screen, scrolling through apps and notifications, but her focus drifts as you step behind her. instinctively, her head tilts back, her damp, tangled strands crumpling slightly against your stomach. the warmth of her resting there is an unspoken intimacy, one that almost softens your irritation—almost.

“did you at least put vaseline on your edges like i told you to?” you ask, already knowing the answer but holding onto a sliver of hope.

her scrolling halts. there’s a pregnant pause as she processes your question, her eyes darting to the side in the way they always do when she’s been caught. she sucks in a breath, her teeth grazing her bottom lip as she stares anywhere but at you, as if the walls themselves might save her.

“billie,” you whine, dragging her name out as your eyes instinctively roll toward the ceiling.

reaching for your hand on her shoulder, she turns her head just enough to press a quick, placating kiss against your knuckles. “i’m sorry,” she murmurs, her lips curving into that small, crooked smile designed to melt you.

“now when you start turning colors, i don’t wanna hear it,” you shoot back, exasperated. “how many times do i have to tell you to put some kind of protectant on your skin?” your voice lilts into an exaggerated dramatization because, without it, she’d never listen.

“i know, baby,” she coos, her tone dripping with faux contrition, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss her or strangle her.

with a heavy sigh, you let your fingers trail through her hair, the strands coarse and uneven as you assess the damage. the texture of her missteps lies in your hands, and though it’s a disaster, it’s a familiar one.

you exhale slowly, grounding yourself for what’s ahead. “okay, let’s see what we’re working with.” gently, you sift through her hair, pulling at a patch near the crown.

“girl…” you say, drawing the word out, “…what the fuck is this?” holding the brassy streak up for her to see, you tilt her head toward the mirror.

“i think that’s where i started,” she admits, her grin a sheepish curve that wavers as her eyes meet yours in the glass.

you shake your head in disbelief, spinning her chair so she’s facing you now. “do you know what that means?”

her brow arches in a silent question, waiting for your inevitable proclamation.

grabbing her hand, you guide her toward the shampoo bowl. the porcelain is cool against her neck as you ease her into position, your touch firm but gentle. your fingers cradle the base of her neck, their warmth grounding her as you lift her hair into the bowl.

“it means deep conditioning. lots of it,” you declare, the finality in your tone leaving no room for debate. “you better make peace with the dryer cap at home because it’s about to be your best friend.”

she groans, the sound low and dramatic, but she doesn’t argue. her resignation is written in the soft slouch of her shoulders as you step away, the sound of your footsteps echoing lightly in the quiet salon.

at your station, you grab what you need—a clarifying shampoo, a paddle brush, and a bottle of conditioner that promises miracles. your fingers graze the cool metal of the sink knobs as you return, twisting them to find the right temperature.

you test the water first, letting it pool in your palm before flicking a few drops toward billie’s face.

“hey!” she yelps, her head jerking slightly as she blinks up at you, mock offense written all over her face.

“what was that for?” she blinks rapidly, her blue eyes wide with mock betrayal, mouth slightly agape as if the water had shocked her soul awake.

“that’s because some people think it’s okay to be hardheaded and ruin their hair,” you retort, your tone sharp yet laced with teasing sass, the kind she secretly adores.

you grin, a mischievous edge tugging at the corners of your lips as you lean over her. “alexa,” you call out to the speaker perched in the corner, “resume my music.”

the soft strains of r&b flow through the air, warm and rich, filling the space between you. the song’s melody wraps around you both, threading its way into the moment as your fingers move to her hair.

“you better thank me for this later,” you tease, a hint of fondness creeping into your voice despite yourself.

her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes fluttering shut as you begin to work, the rhythm of the music syncing with the gentle movements of your hands.

you reach for the sprayer, its chrome gleaming under the soft light, and begin to rinse her hair. warm water cascades over her scalp in soothing waves, like liquid velvet flowing through each strand. the gentle pressure massages away the chaos of the day, and you can feel her body melt a little further into the chair.

leaning over her, your movements are both skilled and tender, the natural grace of someone who has done this a hundred times before but still finds joy in the ritual. you grab the red paddle brush, its bristles catching the light like a promise of transformation, and begin working through her damp hair. the knots resist at first, but the brush glides through with practiced ease, pulling softly, releasing each tangle like it’s freeing her from some invisible weight.

casting the brush aside, you reach for the clarifying shampoo. “this’ll strip as much of the box dye out as possible,” you explain, your voice a gentle melody against the background hum of water. “after that, i’ll tone it to fix the brassiness.”

the bottle makes a soft squelch as you squeeze a pearlescent glob into your palm, its silky texture catching the light. the faint, floral scent rises, intertwining with something sweet and clean, filling the air between you. rubbing your hands together, the shampoo blooms into a rich lather, and you hum softly along to the music as you work it into her hair.

your hands move with precision, starting at her roots. the pads of your fingers glide over her scalp, your acrylic nails grazing just enough to send a shiver down her spine. then you press a little harder, your movements circular and deliberate, coaxing the stubborn dye out while soothing her with each motion. the faint jangle of your bracelets punctuates the rhythm of your work, the charms clinking softly as you rub small, methodical circles along her forehead, her baby hairs curling as water meets skin.

at the nape of her neck, your pinkies trace gentle arcs, ensuring no dye lingers where her hair meets her skin. the suds build, thick and creamy, clinging to her strands like clouds ready to drift away.

you’re lost in the focus of your task until you feel her gaze on you, steady and soft, like she’s committing every detail to memory. glancing down, you meet her blue eyes, their depth catching you off guard.

“you okay?” you whisper, your voice low and warm, the question carrying more than just concern—it holds affection, reassurance.

her tattooed hand slips out from under the cape, inked angels adorning her skin as her thumb brushes against your forearm. her touch is light but insistent, pulling you closer until your arms rest against the sink’s edge, caging her in. her head tilts slightly, her smile soft and content as she hums a quiet acknowledgment.

you feel the weight of her trust in that moment, her complete surrender as her body relaxes under your hands. each movement of your fingers, each stroke through her hair, feels like an unspoken promise: i’ve got you. let me take care of this.

“i’m sorry. for real,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in it wraps around you like a warm embrace.

you pause, your fingers still tangled in her hair, your brows furrowing. “for what, baby?”

her lips press into a pout, their natural blush deepened by her vulnerability. “for messing up. i didn’t want to make you have to work again, but… i panicked.” her free hand finds your thigh, resting there gently as if to anchor herself in the moment.

“oh, do not apologize, my love,” you reassure her, resuming the slow, soothing massage of her scalp. “it’s my job to fix these kinds of things. besides, i like doing your hair. i was just fussing to fuss, okay? it’s okay to make mistakes—especially when you’ve got me to help you out.”

you lean in closer, your voice softening as your fingers thread through her hair, combing through the strands with care. “you know i’d do this for you any day, right? so don’t worry about it. just sit back, relax, and let me work my magic.”

a small hum of contentment escapes her lips as she nods, her pout still evident. you lean down, closing the space between you, and press a soft kiss to her lips. her lashes flutter against your cheeks, her lips parting slightly as she tastes the faint mix of her mint chapstick and your strawberry gloss mingling together.

her hands find your back, tugging gently as if she can’t quite get enough of your closeness. a quiet laugh escapes you, light and airy, as you pull back, planting one last peck before returning to your work.

turning the water back on, you tilt the sprayer toward the base of her scalp, the warm stream washing away the thick suds. swirling ribbons of old dye and shampoo trail down the bowl, the colors melding into a soft pastel kaleidoscope before vanishing down the drain. the water flows smoothly through your fingers, its warmth lingering as you work through her hair, strand by strand, washing away every trace of her mistake.

and in the quiet intimacy of the moment, the rhythm of your work and the softness of her gaze make everything else fade away.

her eyes flutter closed, a soft breath escaping her lips as she melts into the sensation of your hands moving with steady intent. you cradle her head gently, guiding the stream of water with care, ensuring no spot is left untouched. your free hand parts the damp strands, fingers slipping through them like silk as you coax out the stubborn dye that clings to the ends, reluctant to let go.

as the water runs, the colors begin to bleed away, the once cloudy liquid shifting to clear, signaling the start of something fresh, something new. your nails graze softly against her scalp, soothing and purposeful, like a gentle caress that lingers, making sure every trace of dye is gone. the motion becomes rhythmic, almost hypnotic, and you can’t help but smile at the way billie’s body relaxes, her posture softening under your touch.

“see? all clean,” you murmur, your voice a gentle whisper, comforting and warm as you turn off the sprayer. the water runs from your hands like the last traces of tension, and you brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek with the same tenderness.

once the water runs clear, you set the sprayer aside, your fingers still lingering in her hair, smoothing through the damp strands as they fall into place. with practiced grace, you gather the hair in your palms, squeezing gently to coax out the excess water. the droplets fall softly into the basin, their rhythm steady and soothing, like the quiet pulse of a heartbeat. your hands move with an almost reverent precision, mindful not to tug, only wringing out enough water to keep the hair from dripping too much.

you extend your arm toward the counter, reaching for a fresh, warm black towel that rests nearby. the heat still clings to it from the dryer, and as you drape it over billie’s head, you cup your hands around it, tucking the edges securely. you press the towel softly against her scalp, the warmth radiating through the fabric, soaking up the last of the moisture, comforting her like a quiet embrace.

“there,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips as you step back for a moment, surveying the work. “all rinsed and wrapped up. ready for the next step, love?”

with a gentle nod, she follows you back over to the chair, her presence still relaxed, her smile a soft echo of the comfort you’ve given. you walk over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote and handing it to her as you turn her away from the mirror. she flips through the categories, her fingers tracing the screen as you move to the black bar, retrieving your supplies from the black tub and setting them on the counter in their familiar, ordered arrangement.

the first bottle to emerge is the black dye, cool and smooth in your hand, its cap unscrewing with a satisfying twist. you squeeze a measured amount into a mixing bowl, the thick, inky substance pooling at the bottom with a weight that feels satisfying, as if it holds all the potential for the transformation ahead. next, the developer, creamy and faintly metallic, pours in a controlled stream, the contrast between the jet-black dye and the pale developer stark, almost artistic, like night meeting day.

grabbing your dye brush, you begin to stir with slow, deliberate movements, folding the two substances together. the black streaks through the white, at first marbled and uneven, then gradually blending into a glossy, midnight-colored cream. you lean in closer, making sure the mixture is smooth, scraping the sides of the bowl with the brush to gather every last drop of product.

next, you grab the smaller bowls for the blue dyes, each one its own vibrant hue. you pour the colors in, no need for developer, knowing these are semi-permanents, their vibrancy untouched by the need for mixing. the blues swirl together, each one vivid and intense, and you can feel the excitement building��ready to blend them with the deep, dark base.

the rhythm of the mixing is calming, a ritual you know by heart, each movement of your brush a practiced, soothing motion. the anticipation swells in your chest as you prepare to bring together the perfect blend for billie’s hair.

when the dyes are perfectly mixed, you turn back to billie, positioning yourself behind her once more. you shake the towel before gently unraveling it from her head, the fabric slipping off her hair with a soft rustle. her hair—now long and wavy—falls freely, cascading in fluid, graceful waves over her shoulders like liquid midnight. you take in the beauty of the moment, before reaching for your parting comb. you move with practiced ease, carefully dividing her hair into six sections, the comb gliding smoothly through each strand, as if the strands themselves are eager to fall into place.

you begin by clipping the top half of her hair, then sectioning the lower half into two parts, ensuring that the color will apply evenly, without hesitation. the clips snap into place with precision, each movement deliberate. slipping your gloves on, you start applying the dye to the roots, your hands steady and deliberate. the dye meets her scalp, each brushstroke a quiet promise, ensuring that every strand is perfectly coated. the comb moves through effortlessly with each section, your touch confident and fluid. billie can feel you behind her, though she can’t see what you’re doing. yet, there’s a trust that hangs between you, a deep and unspoken understanding that makes your heart swell with quiet affection.

“you’re so good at this,” billie murmurs, her voice low and admiring, watching as the color sinks in effortlessly.

“you can’t even see what i’m doing, babe,” you chuckle softly, setting the bowl of dye down. you lean over, placing your elbows on the chair as you spin it, bringing her face to the mirror so she can watch your every move.

“okay, but i know you, and i know you’re good at what you do. i swear, i’m never doing my own hair again.”

her compliment lingers in the air, a sweet echo, and you smile as you pick up the bowl once more, moving behind her with a sense of purpose. billie flinches slightly as the cold dye touches her scalp, but you smooth it out with gentle strokes, your acrylics gliding through her hair, the sensation soft and calming. you focus entirely on the application, taking your time to make sure each section is perfect. “it takes years to perfect,” you whisper, as the color settles into her strands, dark and even.

the tv show hums softly in the background, but you’re not really paying attention to it. billie’s eyes flicker between you and the mirror, her gaze never straying far from your hands, which move with precision and care.

“are you excited for the tour?” you ask, keeping the conversation flowing, your voice a steady current as your hands continue their work.

billie nods slowly, the slightest furrow of concern crossing her brow. “yeah, but… it’s also nerve-wracking. i mean, i haven’t toured in a while, so i’m a little anxious.”

you glance at her, surprised. “why are you nervous, baby?”

your hands pause, the brush hovering mid-stroke as you meet her gaze in the mirror. her eyes dart away, a subtle shrug rolling through her shoulders, hidden beneath the cape. “i don’t know,” she admits softly, her voice carrying a faint edge of vulnerability. “i guess… i’m worried people won’t connect with the new stuff, or that i’ll mess up. it’s been a while, you know?”

you set the brush down in the bowl, wiping your hands on a nearby towel, then moving to stand beside her. one hand rests gently on her shoulder, your fingers grazing the curve of her collarbone, your thumb moving in slow, reassuring circles against the fabric of her shirt. “billie, you’re amazing,” you say, your voice warm, but firm. “you’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. you’ve worked so hard on this, and i know it’s going to blow people away. plus,” you add with a playful smile, “if anyone’s got the nerve to doubt you, i’ll just have to handle it.”

she meets your gaze in the mirror, her eyes softening, a small, grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “thanks,” she whispers. “it helps hearing that from you.”

you kiss the top of her head lightly, mindful of the dye, before stepping back to your place behind her. “anytime, love,” you say, picking up the brush again. “now hold still—i’m almost done.”

as you finish applying the dye, billie’s expression softens, her earlier tension slowly giving way to a quiet sense of ease. the warmth of her trust fills the room, wrapping around both of you, and for a moment, the low murmur of the tv fades into the background, leaving only the sound of the brush smoothing through her hair, each stroke a quiet act of care.

“what’d you wanna eat?” she asks, breaking the silence, her voice light.

“um…” you pause briefly, considering. “it’s whatever you want.”

she rolls her eyes, a playful glint lighting her expression. “you always say that,” she teases, her tone affectionate but laced with knowing. “but then when i pick, you’ll complain about it.”

you chuckle softly, setting the brush down and giving her hair a final once-over to make sure the dye is even. “that’s not true,” you counter, your grin betraying your words. “okay, maybe sometimes. but i promise, i won’t complain this time.”

she tilts her head slightly, her eyes flicking up to meet yours in the mirror, a smirk tugging at her lips. “mmhmm. so if i say vegan sushi, you won’t pull that face you always do?”

“no…?” you trail off, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“if you say so,” she laughs, leaning back in the chair, her shoulders relaxing at last. she pulls out her phone, the light from the screen flickering against her face as she pulls up the website to order food.

you grab your comb once more, your hand settling gently on the back of her head, tilting it slightly so you can part the back. the metal end of the comb glides smoothly through the mid to low portions of her hair, creating an even part with ease. gathering the spare hair in your hand, you bend slightly, reaching for a clip and securing it with careful precision.

turning back to your station, you pick up the light blue dye, starting to apply it about three inches down from the roots. the color glides on with a vibrant pop against the black, a striking contrast that’s already beginning to take shape. you feather the dye carefully, blending it seamlessly into the black, creating a smooth, ombre transition. billie’s hair is thick, and you take your time, moving with quiet intention, combing through each section to ensure the colors blend perfectly. with gloved fingers, you work the dye into her hair, making sure it’s just right, the blues flowing into the black in perfect harmony. you repeat the process with the other two shades of blue, each one vibrant, intense, creating a masterpiece of color with every stroke.

the atmosphere is calm now, the warm glow of the lights spilling across the polished surfaces, casting soft reflections that shimmer like a quiet symphony. every little moment between you two seems to stretch longer, the air thick with the deepening connection, the space between your souls growing closer with each passing second. you finish the blue ombré, your hands steady as you apply the final touches, then grab a plastic cap, gently placing it over billie’s head to let the dyes process. the room is silent, save for the low hum of the tv and the rhythm of your breathing, until a knock on the door breaks the peace.

you remove your gloves with a practiced motion and make your way to the door, finding a delivery man holding a bag labeled “take out.” with a soft smile, you reach into your back pocket, pulling out ten dollars for his tip, exchanging it for the food as you offer a quiet thank you. the door closes behind you, the warmth of the room welcoming you back in.

you retreat back inside, removing the black cape from billie’s shoulders, followed by your apron, tossing them carelessly into a corner, the fabric settling like memories discarded in haste. crouching down, you sit cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, billie mirroring your movement beside you. you open the boxes of the chinese takeout, the aroma instantly filling the air—soy sauce, garlic, and something sweet and tangy all blending together, making your stomach rumble in eager anticipation.

the fluffy carpet beneath you contrasts against the cool, smooth hardwood of the salon, the softness of it grounding you in the moment. you open the boxes slowly, careful to not spill any of the steaming food. inside, the noodles glisten, their texture tender and inviting. the spring rolls are crispy, their golden brown crusts promising a satisfying crunch, and the stir-fried veggies glisten, coated in a savory sheen, the light catching each vibrant color like jewels in the dim room.

handing billie a pair of chopsticks, you take your own, your fingers easily finding their grip. you dive into the food, the two of you settling into a rhythm—eating, talking, and occasionally laughing at the little moments between bites.

“this is so much better than sushi,” you joke, nudging her lightly with your knee as you twirl some lo mein onto your chopsticks.

billie rolls her eyes, grinning. “you’re lucky i was in the mood for chinese. otherwise, you’d be starving right now.”

you laugh, taking another bite. the savory flavors burst across your tongue, comforting and satisfying, grounding you in the simplicity of the moment. “guess i owe you one, huh?”

billie raises an eyebrow, a playful glint lighting her eyes. “oh, you definitely do. next time, i’m picking. no arguments.”

“i told you to pick, but deal.” you say around a mouthful of food, earning a mock look of disapproval from her, but you both laugh, the sound of it rich and warm, like music in the quiet room.

the tv continues to play softly in the background, but neither of you are truly paying attention, too lost in your easy banter, too caught up in the gentle rhythm of being together. every so often, you catch her stealing a glance at you—her expression soft, her gaze full of unspoken things—and your heart swells with something quiet and content. you can’t help but smile back, the warmth in your chest blooming as if it’s something you’ve known all along.

as you twirl the noodles onto your chopsticks, the sharp bite of a voice from the tv slices through the air, pulling both of you from the comfortable rhythm you’d settled into.

“you know what? i don’t need this energy from fake ass bitch like you of all people!” a woman yells, her tone dripping with venom, and you both freeze mid-bite. the camera cuts to her, hurling a drink across the room, the liquid splashing like a violent cascade as gasps rise from the background.

“ohhh shit.” you gasp out, sounding like a toddler on the verge of telling on someone.

“wait, what the fuck jus’ happened?” billie asks, sitting up straighter, chopsticks suspended in the air like a moment frozen in time.

you squint at the screen, fingers reaching for the remote to turn the volume up, the faint hum of the tv now louder in your ears. “hold on—what’re we watching right now?”

billie shakes her head, a laugh bubbling out as she points to the screen. “i don’t know, but that was—did she just—was that a margarita?!”

“oh yea, most definitely,” you confirm, a grin tugging at your lips as you set your box of food down on the coffee table, the subtle thud of it breaking the silence. “who even does that?”

“apparently her,” billie says, gesturing to the woman storming off-screen, her heels clicking sharply against the floor like a declaration of finality.

you both watch, eyes wide, as the scene cuts to a confessional, the same woman ranting with a voice full of venom. “she thinks she can talk about me behind my back? please. i’m not the one with a cheating ass boyfriend.”

simultaneously, you and billie gasp, grabbing onto one another in shock at the confession, and then burst into laughter. the sound of it warm and effortless, a shared joy.

“oh my god,” billie says, leaning back onto her hands, her eyes dancing with amusement. “she’s so real. i kind of love it.”

you nod, picking up another spring roll, letting its crisp warmth settle in your hand as you sink deeper into the moment. “you’re so messy. like, look at you encouraging violence,” you tease, giving a light kiss of your teeth as you shake your head.

the two of you continue watching, caught in a tangled mix of laughter and genuine debate, the absurdity of the show now grounding the conversation. billie leans in closer, her chopsticks tapping absently against the edge of her box, the sound soft but rhythmic.

“okay, but listen,” she says, her voice animated, a new layer of thoughtfulness pulling at her tone, “i get why she’s mad, but did she have to throw the drink? i’m not gonna lie, that’s just embarrassing for her.”

“nah, i don’t know,” you counter, your voice playful but threaded with a hint of consideration. “if someone called me a fake ass bitch on camera, i’d probably snap too. but maybe i’d throw something less sticky.”

“like what?”

“water? a smoothie? i don’t know—something that doesn’t smell like tequila,” you answer with a smirk, the edge of your voice soft and teasing.

billie laughs, shaking her head with mock exasperation. “remind me never to cross you.”

you nudge her playfully with your knee, the motion light and easy. “just don’t talk shit, and we’ll be fine.”

by the time the episode ends, both of your food containers are empty, the remnants of your meal scattered across the coffee table like the final traces of a good time. you’re fully invested now, the show pulling you in deeper with every outrageous twist. you glance at billie, eyes flicking to the next episode’s preview, torn between indulging in another round or letting the dye process take center stage. billie grabs the remote, already clicking through, her focus sharpening as the screen changes, the night stretching on.

“one more,” she says, her eyes glinting with mischief, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips. “just to see if they make up. we have time, right?”

“definitely,” you agree, but you get up from your place on the floor, your fingers lightly tapping her knee as you stand. “but we do need to get this dye out of your hair, so come on.” you move toward the corner, pulling her cape from the pile where you had tossed it earlier, and she follows you, reluctant but amused.

“fine,” billie grumbles, dragging her feet in mock protest as she moves toward the wash bowl. “but if i miss something, it’s your fault.”

you laugh, shaking your head, the sound light and free. “girl…you’ll survive. besides, you don’t want to leave the dye in too long. trust me, it’s not cute.”

billie settles into the chair with a long sigh, tilting her head back into the basin, the soft curve of her neck exposed in the dim light. “you’re the expert,” she says, teasing but soft, her trust in you woven into the words.

“damn right,” you reply, pulling the wet cap from her head, the colors leaving faint imprints on the plastic before you discard it, the faint hiss of it hitting the trash can like a small exhale. slipping on a fresh pair of gloves, you turn on the water, testing the temperature against your wrist before letting it cascade over her hair, the black and blue dyes swirling together in a quiet, colorful dance. the stream flows over her scalp, soft but persistent, coaxing a small hum of contentment from her, and you smile to yourself, pleased by the soothing rhythm.

“feel good?” you ask, your fingers gently massaging her scalp as you check to make sure all the dye is rinsed away, the soft friction of your touch making her relax even more.

“so good,” she murmurs, her eyes closed now, her body sinking further into the chair as the warmth of the water works its magic.

you can’t help but admire the way the rich black fades into the striking blue, the ombré already catching the light in delicate flashes, as if the colors themselves are in conversation. once the water runs clear, you turn it off and reach for a towel, gently squeezing out the excess water from her hair, your hands careful but purposeful.

“hold still,” you whisper, wrapping the warm towel snugly around her head. she lets out a soft sigh as the heat seeps into her scalp, the tension melting from her, her lips curling into a small, content smile.

“you really spoil me, you know that?” she says, her voice soft but sincere, the words a gentle confession.

“someone’s gotta keep you in line, besides if not me then who?” you tease, helping her rise from the chair, your fingers brushing lightly over her arm as you lead her back to the station. you turn around, your mind already shifting to the next step, reaching into your closet for the next set of tools—heat protectant, blow dryer, round brush, scissors, leave-in conditioner, straightener, parting comb, and clips, all free of dye.

you place your items on the countertop, moving with practiced ease as you quickly dispose of the dying supplies, along with your gloves, and dumping the bowls into the sink with a quiet clink! you grab the bottle of leave-in conditioner, squeezing a generous dollop into your palm. the creamy product is cool against your skin as you rub your hands together, warming it up before stepping behind billie. your fingers slip gently through the damp strands, working the conditioner in from roots to ends. her hair feels soft, pliable, and just slick enough as the product absorbs, and you take your time, your movements slow and deliberate, each touch soothing, grounding, and tender.

“gotta make sure this stays healthy after all that dye,” you murmur, the words soft, half to yourself, half to her, as your hands glide over her hair in slow, steady strokes. your nails graze her scalp occasionally, sending soft tingles down her spine, a delicate reminder of the connection between you.

once the conditioner is evenly applied, you plug in the blow dryer and straightener, the soft hum of the machines filling the space as they heat up. your hand rests lightly on her shoulder, a quiet comfort. “alright, let’s get this dried and looking perfect,” you say, your voice low as you grab the blow dryer and a large round brush.

the warm air begins to flow, a gentle wave of heat that seeps into her scalp, contrasting with the coolness of the conditioner. you work methodically, sectioning her hair, rolling it around the brush with a careful precision. each pull of the dryer tightens the strands, smoothing them, while the brush’s bristles tug gently, almost coaxing her hair into submission. the heat locks in the shine, giving it a soft, glossy finish, and your movements are rhythmic, like a quiet dance—the steady hum of the blow dryer blending with your occasional quiet remarks about the netflix show still playing on the screen.

for her, the process is a symphony of sensations—gentle tension from the brush, the comforting warmth of the dryer’s air, and the soothing, skilled touch of hands that know her hair better than anyone else. each stroke of the brush feels like a small act of love, a silent promise wrapped in care, leaving her hair light, fluffy, and full of life, as if it’s been reborn under your hands.

once the hair is dry, you set the dryer down with a soft click and pick up the flat iron, adjusting the temperature with a practiced flick of your wrist. “okay, babe, i need you to be absolutely still,” you say with a grin, wagging the iron lightly in the mirror so she can see that you’re serious. you section her hair once more, your hands steady, not wanting to risk burning her, knowing how delicate the process is.

you spray the heat protectant over her hair, the thick mist settling over the strands, a silent shield against the heat. then, with a steady hand, the flat iron glides through each section, releasing a soft, sizzling sound, like a whispered promise. the heat smooths the strands into sleek perfection, each pass making her hair feel even silkier, even smoother. she can feel the warmth of the iron passing through her hair, not too hot but just enough to make her scalp feel cozy, like a gentle caress. with every pass, her hair becomes more unreal to the touch, soft and straight, as though it belongs to someone else, someone who knows exactly how to treat it.

as you finish, you run your hands over the newly straightened hair, letting the strands slip between your fingers like liquid silk, smooth and soft. “there we go,” you murmur, stepping back to admire your work, the faint shimmer of the pretty blue peeking out from beneath the jet black hair, catching the light in the most subtle way.

your fiancé tilts her head slightly to get a better look at her sleek hair in the mirror, and you grab your shears and a fine-tooth comb, the tools gliding through your hands with ease. “let’s add a little shape, yeah? just some light layers to bring it all together,” you say, your voice warm and reassuring, a soft promise of perfection.

sectioning the hair again with clips, your movements are fluid, practiced—each step a dance of familiarity. picking up a strand, you comb it straight, the fine-tooth comb catching the light with every pass before snipping carefully. the soft snick of the scissors echoes in the space, each cut precise, deliberate. the loose pieces of hair fall away like delicate threads, spiraling softly to the floor, almost weightless in their descent. your touch is gentle, yet purposeful, your head tilting slightly as you examine the angle of each layer, making sure it’s exactly right.

the r&b music playing softly in the background shifts, slowing down to something older, smoother, soulful. without thinking, you start whisper-singing along, your voice low, raspy but sweet, a sound that carries the tune effortlessly as you work. “oh my gosh, this is my song,” you murmur with a small smile, not stopping your quiet singing even as you shift your position to trim the next section, your hands steady and sure.

billie watches you in the mirror, her gaze fixed on you, captivated by the way you hum and move in sync with the music. your lips form the words to a song that feels like comfort, like nostalgia, a piece of your soul woven into each note. it’s intimate—your voice barely audible over the sound of the scissors snipping, but the harmony of it all feels like a private concert just for her, the world outside fading away.

when the cutting is done, you set the scissors down with a soft click and reach for the flat iron again, the familiar weight of it in your hands grounding you. “now to finish it off,” you say softly, your voice still laced with the quiet energy of the song. as the flat iron glides through the freshly trimmed layers, you move slower, almost mesmerized by the way the hair falls perfectly into place, each strand a work of art under your touch. the song plays on, and you hum the last verse under your breath, your hand following the rhythm as you smooth out the ends with expert care, the warmth of the iron leaving the hair sleek, as smooth as your voice.

once the final section is done, you spray a fine mist of finishing spray, the light scent filling the air as it locks everything in place, giving her hair that glossy, healthy shine. stepping back with a soft smile, you run your comb through her silky layers, the strands gliding effortlessly, almost weightless. “there. perfectly layered, silky smooth, and bone straight,” you murmur, brushing a few stray strands away from her face, your fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “what do you think?”

billie turns her head slowly from side to side, inspecting the smooth jet-black color that bleeds into a bright, vibrant blue at the back, the contrast stunning against the sleek, rich darkness. she smiles, her eyes lighting up, a quiet satisfaction dancing in her gaze. “wow. you really pulled it off. i look… amazing.”

grinning, you wipe your hands on a towel, the soft fabric absorbing the last of the dampness. “i told you i could fix it.” pride blooms in your chest, warm and content. your fingers reach for the back of her neck, gently undoing the velcro tabs, removing the cape with a practiced motion, shaking off any excess hair that clings to the fabric. as you lean her body back in the chair, billie tilts her neck, her eyes locking with yours. a soft, playful smile forms on her lips as she puckers them, her gaze full of quiet affection. a small giggle escapes you, and you meet her in a tender kiss, your lips lingering, a momentary pause where everything else fades.

a sleepy smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she whispers between kisses, her voice soft and sincere, “thank you.”

“always. i’m not gonna let you walk around looking crazy, you know that.” you plant a soft kiss to her forehead, the warmth of your lips lingering for just a beat before you gently guide her to a chair, where she can relax while you finish up.

moving around the salon, you begin to clean up your station, tidying the space where you’ve spent the last several hours. the air hums with the low, steady sound of the television playing in the background, switching from the show you’d been watching earlier to a late-night talk show filled with random jokes and light chatter. billie sits in the corner, her eyes still sparkling as she admires her hair, now glowing softly under the warm, inviting lights of the salon. she pulls out her phone, capturing a few pictures of her new look, turning her head from side to side, caught in awe of the transformation.

as billie scrolls through her pictures, you wipe down the counter, returning your tools to their places with careful precision. but you can’t help but notice the subtle shift in her energy. her usual spark, that lively brightness, seems to dim as she leans back in the chair, her eyelids fluttering as exhaustion starts to settle in. the day has been long, and you can see it catching up with her.

with a soft, knowing smile, you hurry to finish the last of the cleaning—sweeping the floor, wiping down the counters, making everything neat. each motion is quick, purposeful. you want to get billie home, tucked in, where she can unwind after the whirlwind of the day. the thought of resting together, of the quiet comfort of home, fills you with a quiet urgency.

when you finish, you grab the remote, clicking off the tv with a soft sound, followed by the gentle hum of the alexa, music fading into silence. you gather your things from the rack behind the door, zipping up your jacket, slinging your purse over your shoulder. you walk over to where billie is softly dozing in the corner, and with careful fingers, you reach into her pocket, fishing out her car keys and your phone. her body stirs as she feels your light touch, but she remains blissfully unaware.

lifting her hand gently, you help her up. “come on, let’s get you home.” you turn off all the lights, the soft click of switches echoing in the quiet space, before locking the door behind you. the cool night air of LA greets you as you step outside. with a press of the key fob, the porsche unlocks, and you slide into the driver’s seat, feeling the weight of the day settle into your bones. billie slips into the passenger seat beside you, curling up in her spot, her head leaning against the window. the car roars to life with the press of the ignition, and you begin the drive home, the rhythm of the road steady and comforting as billie’s eyelids grow heavier with every passing moment.

the drive back is peaceful. the soft hum of the car engine creates a gentle lullaby, accompanied by the occasional sound of tires gliding over the smooth asphalt. the streetlights flicker in rhythmic succession, casting brief, golden glows that sweep over the streets in the night’s embrace.

your gaze drifts over to billie every now and then, catching glimpses of her peacefully dozing off, her features relaxed in the quiet of the car. the streetlights spill through the windows, bathing her face in a soft, warm glow that makes her look even more serene. it’s a perfect, tranquil moment, and your heart swells with a quiet affection. she looks so at peace, safe and calm, wrapped in the comfort of the night.

the car slows to a gentle stop as you approach a red light. the warm glow from the traffic light washes over billie’s face, painting her delicate features in a soft, crimson hue.

a smile tugs at your lips, tender and full of love, as you glance at her once more. billie’s lashes flutter softly, stirring ever so slightly, but she doesn’t wake. your hand moves away from the wheel, fingers grazing across her cheek before cupping her jaw. she leans into your touch instinctively, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. the connection feels like a fleeting, yet eternal, moment, a promise of care and warmth.

as the light turns green, you pull your hand back, placing it gently on the steering wheel. you continue the drive home, the rhythmic flicker of streetlights through the windows adding to the serenity of the moment. billie stays curled in her seat beside you, her soft breaths the only sound accompanying the steady hum of the car.

as the familiar sight of your shared home comes into view, you ease the car into the garage, the low rumble of the engine settling into stillness. putting the car in park, you turn it off, nudging billie softly as she stirs awake, her eyes blinking open slowly. you reach for your keys, her hand slipping into yours as you unlock the door to the house. the quiet of the night surrounds you as you lead her inside, slipping your shoes off before guiding her to your bedroom.

once inside, you cross into the adjoining bathroom. billie leans gently against the doorframe, watching as you crouch down, rummaging through the cabinets beneath the sink. you pull out two shower caps, the simple task feeling comforting in the stillness of the moment. you place hers on her head, tucking each strand of her black and blue hair under it with careful hands. then you repeat the process for your own hair, your movements slow and deliberate. once the caps are securely in place, you turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to the perfect warmth.

turning back to her, you both begin shedding your clothes, each piece falling softly to the floor like whispered secrets. the air is thick with warmth and steam, and as you step into the shower together, the water cascades down in soothing rivulets, wrapping you both in its embrace. billie leans against the cool tiled wall, letting the steam unwind her body, and you quickly wash yourself, the soft sound of water splashing around you almost meditative.

“you okay over there?” you ask, your voice low, careful not to break the peaceful silence between you. you glance over at billie, her eyes barely open, her face softened in the steam.

without a word, she steps behind you, her warmth pressing against your back as she rests her head in the crook of your neck. the dewy droplets from the shower roll onto her skin, adding a shimmer to her closeness as she wraps her arms around your waist. her thumbs draw light, absentminded circles on your skin, the motion gentle and soothing.

the water flows steadily over both of you, its warmth sinking into your muscles, loosening any lingering tension. billie’s embrace is a gentle weight, her body leaning into yours as if trying to melt into you completely. you tilt your head slightly, allowing her to settle more comfortably in the curve of your neck. in that moment, everything else fades away—the world outside the shower, the thoughts swirling in your mind—all that’s left is the quiet intimacy between you, like a soft blanket wrapping you both in its warmth.

“you’re gonna fall asleep like this,” you whisper, though there’s no reprimand in your voice—only tender amusement, the rhythm of your breaths matching hers.

billie hums softly in response, her voice muffled against your damp skin, “can’t help it. you’re too comfy.”

your lips twitch into a smile, a soft sigh escaping you as you reach for her rag on the side. you grab the body wash next, squeezing it onto the cloth, and then rubbing it together, watching as the lather builds. the air fills with the fresh scent of citrus, mingling with the warmth of vanilla, a fragrance that blends perfectly with the steamy space around you.

“come here,” you murmur, your voice soft, as you gently turn her so her back faces you. your hands begin at her shoulders, moving in slow, deliberate motions, the soap spreading across her skin like silk, tracing the curves of her swirl tattoo as it slides down her back. each touch of your fingers against her skin sends a wave of relaxation through her muscles, the tension unwinding as you move down her arms, then back to her spine. the steady rhythm of your movements is mirrored by the soft patter of water on the tiled floor, the sound like a quiet lullaby that wraps around you both.

“you’re spoiling me,” billie murmurs, her voice soft, almost lost beneath the sound of the water.

“always,” you reply with a quiet laugh, your hands trailing down to her sides, making sure not to miss a single inch of her skin, your touch tender and precise.

turning her back to face you, her half-lidded eyes meet yours for a brief moment before fluttering closed, surrendering to the warmth and intimacy of the moment. you begin washing her front, your touch light, like a feather brushing against her collarbone, down her shoulders, and across her arms. she exhales softly as your hands dip lower, brushing against her stomach, her body swaying gently as the warmth of the water and your care lull her deeper into relaxation.

“all done,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the water, guiding her under the spray to rinse away the suds. your hands move with care, ensuring that every trace of soap is gone, leaving only the warmth and comfort of the moment lingering between you.

you place a hand on her back, your palm gently meeting the light droplets still clinging to her skin, the soft scratch of your acrylic nails trailing across her damp flesh as you lean in to turn off the tap. the water’s rhythmic trickle fades into the background, and with a fluid motion, you slide open the glass door, stepping out into the steamy air. reaching for the towels hanging nearby, you wrap one around each of you, the plush fabric absorbing the last of the warmth from your skin. you remove your shower caps, stepping onto the soft mat, her damp body leaning into you as you guide her back toward the bedroom.

once there, you grab two band tees, one for you and one for billie, slipping them on as you moisturize your skin, the cool scent of lavender and vanilla mingling with the steam still lingering in the air.

you help billie into her pajamas with slow, careful movements, making sure every action is deliberate, your touch gentle as you rub lotion into her arms and legs. the scent of the lotion fills the space between you, wrapping around you both like a comforting embrace.

“i hope you know this is going into your girlfriend tax,” you say, your voice light and playful as you massage lotion into billie’s hand.

“don’t you mean wife?” a smirk dances across her lips, her hand pulling you lightly by the waist, her engagement ring catching the soft light from the bedroom as she tugs you closer. a small giggle escapes you, a sweet reminder of what’s to come. you reach behind you, taking her hand from your hip and guiding her over to the vanity.

you pull out the stool for her to sit, your fingers grazing her shoulder as you remove her shower cap, the remnants of water flinging away with the movement. grabbing a comb from the table, you part her hair carefully, your fingers soft and deliberate as you begin to weave two french braids. the light taps of rain against the windows add a soothing rhythm to the quiet room, the sound merging with the gentle flow of your touch, easing billie further into relaxation.

when you’re done, you reach into the drawer, pulling out a silky brown scarf. you open it with a delicate flick of your fingers, folding it into a neat triangle. aligning the longer side with her forehead, you tie it gently, making sure the knot is firm enough to stay in place, but soft enough to not cause discomfort. it rests just so, a quiet gesture of care before the night settles in around you both.

billie scrambles to your bed, her movements quick as she throws herself under the duvet with a soft sigh, sinking into the softness like she’s finally found her place. you shake your head softly, smiling to yourself as you grab a scarf, pulling it over your hair with the same practiced care. you make your way over to the bed, the quiet click of the lamp turning off filling the space before you slide in next to her. the weight of the day seems to lift in the darkened room, the only sound the gentle tap of rain against the windows.

reaching into your bedside drawer, you slip off your ring, placing it carefully in its box, the cool touch of the metal against your skin a reminder of the bond you share. you stretch your hand back toward billie, palm facing up, and she mirrors the gesture. the coolness of the .48-carat diamond meets your touch as she slides her ring into your hand. you place both rings in their box, closing the drawer softly, the faint sound of the wood settling a quiet punctuation to the moment.

billie drapes her arm over your torso, pulling you closer, her warmth seeping into your skin as your limbs tangle together, two bodies finding comfort in one another. your thumbs trace soft, lazy patterns on her arm, the motion slow and deliberate, a silent promise of peace. she buries her face in the crook of your neck, her breath warm against your skin.

outside, the rain continues its melodic tapping, the rhythm a lullaby as billie’s breathing slows. her body relaxes completely, her embrace a cocoon that shields you from the world.

as she drifts off to sleep, you press a soft kiss to her palm, the touch tender, a quiet act of love. your own eyes grow heavy as the night wraps itself around you both, cocooning you in its warmth. the sound of the rain serenades you into dreams, its rhythm guiding you to sleep, where you rest together, the world fading away.

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content!

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #billie eilish gf #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x black girl #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x female reader

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anim-ttrpgs · 11 months ago

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Help Save the World of TTRPGs and Their Creators.

Okay I’m being a little dramatic, but at the same time I’m pretty serious. This is a call to action, and the livelihoods of myself and lots of other people, many of them (like myself) disabled, are depending on it. This is a post about why, what you can do about it, and (perhaps least often answered) how.

This post is actually an accompaniment to another discussion by someone else. If you don’t want to listen to a 90-minute in-depth discussion of much of what I’m about to tell you, you can just keep reading. Otherwise, click here or here and listen to this either before or after you read this post. (They’re the same thing, just different sources.)

If you have ever made or reblogged posts urging people to switch from Google Chrome to Firefox, you should be willing to at least give a try to other TTRPGs besides D&D5e for much the same principle reasons. I’m not telling you you have to hate D&D5e, and I’m not telling you you have to quit D&D5e, I’m just asking you to try some other games. If you don’t like them, and you really want to go back to D&D5e, then go back to D&D5e. But how can you really know you won’t like other games if you have literally never tried them? This post is a post about why and how to try them. If you’re thinking right now that you don’t want to try them, I urge you to look below to see if any of your reasons for not wanting to try them are covered there. Because the monopoly that WotC’s D&D5e has on TTRPGs as a whole is bad for me as a game designer, and it’s bad for you as a game player. It’s even bad for you if you like D&D5e. A fuller discussion of the why and how this is the case can be found in the links above, but it isn’t fully necessary for understanding this post, it’ll just give you a better perspective on it.

If you’re a D&D5e player, I’m sure at some point or another, you’ve been told “play a different game”, and it must get frustrating without the context of why and how. This post is here to give you the why and how.

[The following paragraph has been edited because the original wording made it sound like we think all weird TTRPGs suck.]

Before that though, one more thing to get out of the way. I'm going to level with you. There’s a lot of weird games out there.

You are gonna see a lot of weird TTRPGs when you take the plunge. Many of them try to completely reinvent what a TTRPG even is, and some fail spectacularly, others really do even up doing something very interesting even if they don't end up being what a core TTRPG player wants. But not every indie RPG is a Bladefish, lots and lots of them are more 'traditional' and will feel very familiar to you, I promise. (And you might even find that you like the weird experimental bladefish type ones, these are usually ideal for one-session plays when your usual group can't play your usual game for any reason.)

You're also going to probably see a lot of very bad games, and man have I got some stories of very bad games, but for now I'm just saying to make sure you read the reviews, or go through curators (several of which will be listed below), before you buy.

Now that that is out of the way, I’m going to go down a list of concerns you may have for why not, and then explain the how.

“I don’t want to learn a whole new set of rules after I already spent so much time learning D&D5e.”

Learning a new set of rules is not going to be as hard as you think. Most other TTRPGs aren’t like that. D&D5e is far on the high end of the scale for TTRPGs being hard and time-consuming to learn and play. If you’ve only played D&D5e, it might trick you into thinking that learning any TTRPG is an overwhelmingly time-consuming task, but this is really mostly a D&D5e problem, not a TTRPG problem as a whole.

“D&D5e has all of these extra online tools to help you play it.”

So what? People have been playing TTRPGs without the help of computers for 50 years. To play a well-designed TTRPG you won’t need a computer. Yes, even if you're bad at math. There are some TTRPGs out there that barely even use math.

“I’m too invested in the narrative and characters of my group’s current ongoing D&D5e campaign to switch to something else.”

There are other games, with better design made by better people for less money, that are the same kind of game as D&D5e, that your current characters, lore, and plot will fit right into and do it better. And no, it's not just Pathfinder, there's others.

“I can’t afford to play another TTRPG.”

You probably can. If you’ve only played D&D5e, you might have been made to think that TTRPGs are a very expensive hobby. They aren’t. D&D5e is actually uniquely expensive, costing more than 3x more than the next most expensive TTRPG I can think of right now. Even on the more expensive end, other TTRPG books will cost you no more than $60, most will cost you less than $20, and a whole lot of them are just free. If you somehow still can’t afford another TTRPG, come to the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book club mentioned below, nominate the game, and if it wins the vote we will straight up buy it for you.

(By the way, if you had any of the above concerns about trying other games besides D&D5e, that really makes it sound like you are in a textbook abusive relationship with D&D5e. This is how abusers control their partners, and how empires control their citizens, by teaching you to think that nothing could ever get any better, and even though they treat you bad, the Other will treat you even worse.)

“If I don’t play D&D5e, which TTRPG should I play?”

That’s a pretty limited question to be asking, because there will be no one TTRPG for everything. And no, D&D5e is not the one TTRPG for everything, Hasbro’s marketing team is just lying to you. (Pathfinder and PbtA are not the one system for everything either!) Do you only play one video game or only watch one movie or only read one book? When you finish watching an action movie like Mad Max, and then you want to watch a horror movie, do you just rewind Mad Max and watch it over again but this time you act scared the whole time? No, you watch a different movie. I’m asking you to give the artistic medium of TTRPGs the same respect you would give movies.

“I want to play something besides D&D5e, but my friends won’t play anything else!”

I have several answers to this.

Try showing them this post.

If that doesn’t work: Make them. Put your foot down. This works especially well if you are the DM. Tell them you won’t run another session of D&D5e until they agree to give what you want to do at least one try instead of always doing only what they want to do. This is, like, playing 101. We learned this in kindergarten. If your friend really wants to play something else, you should give their game a try, or you’re not really being a very good friend.

If that doesn’t work, find another group. This doesn’t even mean that you have to leave your existing group. A good place to start would be the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club which will be mentioned and linked below. You can also go to the subreddit of any game you’re interested in and probably meet people there who have the same problem you do and want to put together a group to play something other than D&D5e. You might get along great with these people, you might not, but you won’t know until you try. Just make sure to have a robust “session zero” so everyone is on the same page. This is a good practice for any group but it is especially important for a group made of players you’ve just met.

“I only watch actual plays.”

Then watch actual plays of games that aren’t D&D5e. These podcasts struggle for the same reasons that indie RPGs struggle, because of the brand recognition and brand loyalty D&D5e has, despite their merit. I don’t watch actual plays, or else I would be able to list more of them. So, anyone who does watch actual plays, please help me out by commenting on this post with some non-D&D5e actual plays you like. And please do me a favor and don’t list actual plays that only play one non-D&D5e system, list ones that go through a variety of systems. The first one I can think of is Tiny Table.

“I can just homebrew away all the problems with D&D5e.”

Even though I want to, I’m not going to try and argue that you can’t actually homebrew away all the problems with D&D5e. Instead, I’m going to ask you why you’re buying two $50 rulebooks just to throw away half the pages. In most other good RPGs, you don’t need to change the rules to make them fun, they’re fun right out the box.

“But homebrewing D&D5e into any kind of game is fun! You can homebrew anything out of D&D5e!”

Firstly, I promise that this is not unique to D&D5e. Secondly, then you would probably have more fun homebrewing a system that gives you a better starting point for reaching your goal. Also, what if I told you that there are entire RPG systems out there that are made just for this? There are RPG systems that were designed for the purpose of being a toolbox and set of materials for you to work with to make exactly the game you want to make. Some examples are GURPS, Savage Worlds, Basic RolePlaying, Caltrop Core, and (as much as I loathe it) PbtA.

“I’m not supporting WotC’s monopoly because I pirate all the D&D5e books.”

Then you’re still not supporting the smaller developers that this monopoly is crushing, either.

Now, here’s the how. Because I promise you, there’s not just one, but probably a dozen other RPGs out there that will scratch your exact itch.

Here’s how to find them. This won’t be a comprehensive list because I’ve already been typing this for like 3 hours already. Those reading this, please go ahead and comment more to help fill out the list.

First, I’m gonna plug one of my own major projects, because it’s my post. The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club. It’s a discord server that treats playing TTRPGs like a book club, with the goal of introducing members to a wide variety of games other than D&D5e. RPGs are nominated by members, then we hold a vote to decide what to read and play for a short campaign, then we repeat. There is no financial, time, or schedule investment required to join this book club, I promise it is very schedule-friendly, because we assign people to different groups based of schedule compatibility. You don’t have to play each campaign, or any campaign, you can just read along and participate in discussion that way. And if you can’t afford to buy the rulebook we’re going to be reading, we will make sure you get a PDF of it for free. That is how committed we are to getting non-D&D5e RPGs into people’s hands. Here is an invite link.

Next, there are quite a few tumblr blogs you can follow to get recommendations shown to you frequently.

@indierpgnewsletter

@indie-ttrpg-of-the-day

@theresattrpgforthat

@haveyouplayedthisttrpg

@indiepressrevolution

Plenty of podcasts, journalists, and youtubers out there do in-depth discussions of different systems regularly, a couple I can think of off the top of my head are:

Storyteller Conclave (I’m actually going to be interviewed live on this show on April 10th!)

Seth Skorkowsky

Questing Beast

The Gaming Table

Rascal News

Lastly, you can just go looking. Browse r/rpg, drivethrurpg.com, indie press revolution, and itch.io.

Now, if you really want to support me and my team specifically Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, our debut TTRPG, is going to launch on Kickstarter on April 10th and we need all the help we can get. Set a reminder from the Kickstarter page through this link.

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, there’s plenty of ways to get one!

Subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

Donate to our ko-fi and send us an email with proof that you did, and we’ll email you back with the full Eureka prerelease package with the most updated version at the time of responding! (The email address can be found if you scroll down to the bottom of our website.)

We also have merchanise.

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the-king-of-lemons · 1 year ago

Text

I know a lot of people on qsmpblr use Tumblr mobile, but if you do use browser Tumblr then I would recommend the Simple Translate extension. Because Tumblr doesn't have built in translation like Twitter, there's less fans posting in their native language, instead most people just use English.

Simple Translate is an extension that allows you to translate text that you highlight into a target language. (It uses Google Translate API, but so does Twitter so the translation quality is pretty much the same).

Firefox Extension | Chrome Extension

When you highlight text in another language, a translate icon appears, when you click on it a panel containing the translation of the text appears.

You can also change the settings of the extension so that the translation panel automatically appears when you highlight text in another language.

Here's some more examples using the official QSMP Twitter accounts, you do not need to change the settings of the extension to translate from different languages into your target language.

(All of these match the translations given when using the "translate bio" button on Twitter directly.)

You can also access a translation box using the icon in the toolbar, any text you enter can be translated to the language selected in the drop-down menu (meaning you don't need to open a new tab to use Google Translate).

Some settings explanation and other stuff under the cut. Not super important but I figured I'd add it anyways.

There is an option to use DeepL API as opposed to Google Translate (it's another translation tool, there is free access to the API with a limit of 500,000 characters/month, and a pro version for unlimited access).

Whatever the target language is set as is what text you highlight will be translated into. There is another option for a second target language, I'll explain that further down.

This option changes how you view the translation panel, the first option (default) has the icon appear when you highlight text (as seen in the first image of the post), the second option has the translation panel appear automatically when you highlight text, and the for third option the panel and icon won't automatically appear, but can still be accessed by right-clicking the highlighted text and selecting "translate selected text".

The checkbox below these options means that if the text you're highlighting is already in your target language, the translation icon and panel will not appear, it can again still be accessed by right-clicking what you've highlighted and selecting translate.

This option appears twice, in both the Web-page section (for translating selected text) and the Toolbar Popup section (for the translation box in the toolbar popup).

The web page option, when toggled on, means that when you select text that is in your target language, the translation panel will translate into the second target language that has been selected. If the checkbox for "do not display if translation is not required" is toggled on, you can only view the translation from Target -> 2nd Target by right-clicking to translate selected text.

The toolbar popup version of this option is used to automatically switch the language in the toolbar translation box when you input something in your main target. (ie. second target set to French means that when you input English text in the translation box it will switch the translation setting from "(detect language) -> English" to "English -> French").

There are also settings to change the style and size of the translation button and panel.

Side note: Mixed language messages (not containing your target language) will only translate one of the languages, you can work around this by highlighting the different languages separately.

Links again if you don't want to scroll all the way back up

Firefox Extension | Chrome Extension

#if you use twitter and want to crosspost this feel free #but please link to this post and perhaps paste the post text into the alt text of the screenshot #so people can translate the post text from english to their own language (or honestly feel free to translate it yourself and post that too)#qsmp #qsmpblr #qsmptwt #i think this could also maybe be useful for tweets that arent detected as another language so the translate option doesnt appear?#idk i dont use twt much #idk if anything like this has been posted before tbh #i just enjoy seeing people speaking in their native languages over on qsmptwt and when it occasionally happens here too #and i think itd be pretty cool to see it more on qsmpblr #tiggady tags #also i figure it could be useful translating from english into ur native lang!!! forgot to mention that in the post

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skteezcursed · 9 months ago

Text

❝0258❞ — j.yh.

PAIRING. ex!jeong yunho x fem!reader.

GENDER AND WARNINGS.smut. slight toxic behavior. dom!yunho. switch leaning sub!reader. possessiveness. alcohol consumption. yunho is borderline toxic (i apologize). fingering. orgasm denial. creampie. p in v. hair pulling. unprotected sex (please, do NOT). lmk if i forgot anything.

SYNOPSIS. yunho doesn’t like to share, he never did, especially not you. it doesn’t matter you two broke up, you are still his, so when he sees you flirting with other guys in a frat party (that you weren’t the biggest fan of), something builds inside of him and he just needs to make it clear that you belong to him, and him alone.

RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.

WORD COUNT. 4k.

NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. thanks to @juyofans and @yunhoszn for the costume idea, thanks @bro-atz for the plot idea, thanks coachella for the cowboy yunho with the rings, thanks for his parents for not having used protection or prevented their son from being born, because this man wrecked me completely. bye ♡.

IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.

CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡

He knew he would probably find you here. He knew you liked to party from time to time and how your friends would always lure you into one or another, even when you two were together. And in all honesty, he was okay with that, except for the fact you were at a frat party less than a month after you two broke up. Wearing a fucking chromed dress that barely covers your ass, the metallic make up just making you stand our more and he never hated a futuristic themed party more than he did now.

As if that wasn’t enough, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you ever since they found you with your friends on the corner, dancing and smiling all the way. His eyes lingering at your outfit, wishing you at least had shorts underneath your dress. Only if he was allowed to touch you, only if he was allowed to see under that dress.

“Well, this is becoming an embarrassment,” Jongho’s voice quickly found Yunho as he watched the youngest of his frat drown the last of his drink before indicating you on the other side of the room. “Weren’t you the one that broke up?”

“So?”

Yunho tried his best to not make his eyes wander to you, or to acknowledge the amount of guys that were eyeing you, surrounding you, just waiting for an opportunity to -

“So, why do you care so much if another guy comes along? Aren’t they single afterall?”

If Yunho could punch Jongho at that moment we would, but he chose better, just turning the beer down his throat before meeting you again. A group of guys from another frat had gotten closer to your group. Yunho knew them, so maybe he -

“He’s simping again, isn’t he?” Yunho just scoffed at Yeosang’s remark, feeling Mingi joining the others, a hand draped around Yunho’s shoulder. “If you can’t keep your eyes away from them, why did you break up in the first place?”

“Because (y/n) was saying that a lot of girls were trying to get with him and he wasn’t pushing them away, so -”

“Why would I give them the time of day when I had her? It was like she didn’t trust me, that’s why we broke up!”

“So, that has nothing to do with the fact that you started to notice how guys were always around them and accused them of cheating?” The other boys shook their heads as Yunho bit his inner cheek at Mingi’s remark. “So you didn’t trust her, and decided to break up, but now, you can’t keep your eyes off of them in that pretty little tiny dress that -”

“Mingi,” it was a warning, making the other tall one chuckle, raising his hands with a smirk. “You guys are fucking -”

“Oh, looks like she moved on from you, dude.”

At that, his head snapped your direction, and he found Juyeon, from TBZ frat rather close with you, his hands on your back and you were fucking smiling at him, your flirty smile, the smile that made Yunho want you pin you down on the closest surface and fuck you senseless just to take that fucking smile off your lips.

“And off he goes!”

Yunho could still hear all three guys behind him as he took the first steps in your direction. There was no way you’d go with Juyeon, no you were Yunho’s and no one else's, but as he got closer, he noticed one of your friends caught your attention, making you put some distance – which should be bigger – between you and Juyeon. As you turned to say something, your face got closer to his as Yunho noticed how the guy’s arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer. He had half moons marking his palm as the custom rings Hongjoong had made for him dig into the skin.

As you pulled away, your eyes met with his, making you stop almost instantly, only moving because your friend pulled you in. In all truth, you didn’t want to come to this party, you didn’t want to leave the house at all, ever since you and Yunho broke up, a lot of things crossed your mind as in the actual reason for that, as he came with a ‘I just think it's best if we go our separate ways, this isn’t working anymore’ and left at that, ignoring your calls and texts, until you gave up after almost a week.

If it weren’t for Alexa, you probably weren't even gonna be at the NCT frat party, also, you thought that Yunho would have gone to the BTS frat last night and not show up at this one so you wouldn’t bump into him. As if that wasn’t enough, all you could think about was the face he gave you as Alexa guided you through the bodies of people. He was mad, he was fuming. Was he so annoyed you were there? Did he really hate you that much?

“Just keep watch okay, I trust the boys, just not every guy in this forsaken party!”

She said as she closed the bathroom door making you touch your head against the wooden door sighing deeply. All you wanted in that moment was to leave that house, curl in bed and cry for everything that happened with Yunho.

“Why is my pretty girl sad?” You raised your head finding Haechan getting out of his room, curiously not accompanied by anyone. “Did anyone give you a hard time? Just let me know and me and the boys will -”

“It’s fine,” you said quick but the sadness was still noticeable in your voice and eyes. “I just want some time alone, I… I just saw Yunho and -”

Haechan’s arms quickly wrapped around your figure as you held back your tears. It has been a month, you should have a grip on your emotions already. You hid your face on Haechan’s chest, apologizing for the amount of makeup that was smearing his shirt, but all he did was kiss you head, temple and cheek while rubbing your bare back, suddenly way more conscious of how open the back was.

“He’s the idiot to let go of you, maybe you should take this party to enjoy, yes?” You nodded slightly, your hand going to the back of his neck, fingers playing with the hair ends. “Mark sent a picture of you with Juyeon from TBZ frat, he’s a good guy, maybe you should try it out with him.”

“Thanks, I might, just need to get a grip,” you said, pulling away from Haechan cupping his face before leaving a small kiss on his cheek. “Go enjoy your party, I have to wait for Alexa to leave the bathroom anyways.”

“Come meet me later, I can help you find some fun.”

You chuckle and waved towards Haechan as you watched him go down the stairs, sighing loudly, cursing on your mind at how long Alexa was taking, getting a little worried at that.

“Guess you moved on quickly, right pretty?” Your whole body became suddenly aware of how close he was, when did he arrive? Why was he here? “So, who is it gonna be? Juyeon or Haechan? Maybe both?”

“What do you want, Yunho?”

“Can’t I ask about your whereabouts?”

“You lost that right when you broke up with me,” you turned to him, half of the reason why your face was flustered was for the alcohol and annoyance, but the other half was by his presence, if he knew that or not, it was still up to be discovered, “don’t you remember?”

“Oh, I remember well enough,” he towered over you, making you take small steps behind until your back was pressed against the bathroom door, the smile on Yunho’s lips when he noticed he got you cornered made you press your thighs together, “but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with others wanting what it’s mine.”

“I’m not yours for a while now.”

“Oh pretty, you’ll always be mine,” you can’t lie to yourself and pretend like you didn’t miss the possessiveness Yunho carried whenever you two were together. “Should I remind you?”

“I’m not yours anymore, Yunho, you decided that.”

“What if I decided that I don’t want you to be my ex anymore?”

“Because you are jealous or because you actually mean it?” That was it, that was the moment you saw his eyes darken, the cover from the cowboy hat only helping with that. Your eyes lingered a little longer on his before falling to his lips, a small smirk appearing once you saw them forming a thin line. “Are you jealous that I might like Juyeon or Haechan more than you?”

As his hands held you by the waist and hip, your breath hitched, but neither of you reacted to that, your body already telling him enough. The hand that was on your waist trailed towards your bare back and a gasp left your lips as the cool metal of his rings touched your exposed lower back, making him smile at that pulling you closer to him. Your hands quickly find the vest he was wearing, getting tangled with the necklaces. He was too close, his body fitting into yours as if it was made for it to happen.

You whined as you felt the sharpness of his ring against your skin, what kinda ring he was wearing you didn’t know, but you for sure didn’t want to see it or else, it was just another thing to occupy the ‘Jeong Yunho Folder’ on our mind. For a moment, you tried to react, but instead of pushing him away, your fingers held the vest tighter, making him chuckle as his face got closer to yours, the hat already touching your head as you could feel his breath mixing with yours. Way more stable than yours could ever be.

“I think that’s something neither should be worried about, don’t you think, pretty?” Before anyone could answer, both heard the sounds coming from the bathroom, but Yunho was faster, turning both of you away and into Haechan’s room, the door closing the same second Alexa opened the bathroom door. You felt the cold metal of the rings on your lips as Yunho was paying attention to the sound on the other side. “Keep quiet pretty and I’ll reward you later, yeah?”

You just nodded, feeling the pressing of the rings on your lips, one of the rings touching your throat making you raise your head slightly. Who had the fucked up idea to give Jeong Yunho those freaking ring sets? You cursed, closing your eyes, only to open them, becoming even more aware of your situation. Yunho pressing his body against yours, one of his hand on your waist, as his ringed finger touched your lips, one of his legs in between yours, all this while in Haechan’s fucking room.

Alexa cursing and searching for you was barely on your mind as all of these were processed. How Yunho’s fingers tighten on your waist and he lowered his head leaving the air he was holding against your neck, making you shiver. A small whimper left your lips as his adorned fingers cupped your jaw pulling you to eye him. There was lust and anger in them, and you knew you shouldn’t crave him, but it was impossible not to when we looked like that, with his intense gaze on you as if nothing else existed, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't broken up with you.

“Why you here Yunho?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The cool metal of the rings made your breath hitch as the tips scratched the back of your head, his thumb going over your lips before his eyes focused back on your own. “I’m here to claim what’s mine.”

“We broke up and now you are jealous,” although you tried to sound sure, you both noticed your voice break, a small smile appearing on his lips. “I’m not yours anymore, Yuyu.”

“Do you think they can make you feel like I do? That they know your body? Know what makes you tickle, what makes your cunt dripping wet?” His face bore on your neck and you felt the cowboy hat fall on the floor as you whimpered feeling his wet lips on your skin. “Do you think anyone can compare to us?”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me, no?”

“You accused me of cheating when you were the one doing it all along.”

Your eyes turned to him, so that's why he broke up with you? Because he thought you cheated? “Who the fuck told you that? One of the girls from your dance class?”

“I’m not blind, (y/n), I saw it with my own eyes how you’d led some of the guys on, with your damn perfect smile and -”

“It’s called being polite, Yunho!” You tried pushing him, but he held you close, your attempt barely moving him out of place, making you sigh annoyed. “I never cheated on you, you lunatic, I’m fucking in love with you!”

“Yet, you were out there flirting with Juyeon and Haechan.”

You scoff, realizing he really was jealous. “So that’s what this is about! You are fucking jealous.”

“I told you once before, pretty, no one touches what’s mine, and you are mine,” you tried to close your legs only to find Yunho’s thigh in between them, making him chuckle as his hand on your face went to your neck, no pressure, just pure dominance. “Well well well, apparently someone is feeling horny,” his lips brushed against yours as you tried to move your hips against his thigh to alleviate the pressure, only to get his fingers to secure your waist, unabling you to move. “Maybe I should remind you how well I know your body and how no one will ever be able to please you better than me.”

In a swift move, he pulled your face to his, lips crashing as your hands finally left his vest, only to mess with his hair as the kiss deepened. You felt his hands wander south towards the valley of your thighs, only to hear him hum against your lips once he found the short shorts that you had under your dress.

“What?”

“I’m torn between calling you a good girl for wearing shorts under this fucking dress and to punish you for using it all together.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers put slight pressure against your clothed core and clit, throwing your head back and arching, trying to give him more room to work on your lower half, receiving a light chuckle from Yunho. “I was using the shorts because I had no intentions on getting with anyone tonight.”

“Is this you asking me to call you a good girl, pretty?” You melted at his words getting a snarky comment in response. “If you were a good girl, you wouldn’t be here in the first place, now would you? Wouldn’t be dresses like that, wouldn’t be getting other guys attention, or –”

“Please Yun–argh!” You bit your lip as you felt the pads of his unadorned fingers pressed a little harder against your clit. “Please, I’ll be good, please just touch me, I–I need your fingers, please.”

“Now, I need more than that pretty, I’m still not okay with what I saw earlier.”

“I don’t want them,” your mind haywired for a moment before you could put your thoughts together, remembering how he had seen you with both Juyeon and Haechan earlier. “I want you, Yunho, please I only want you.”

“That’s better.”

Nimbly, his hands moved inside your shorts, his cool fingers meeting your heated core and the shock made you shiver a little as you felt his adorned fingers in the back of your head, holding you in place so he could see all the reactions your body had towards him. A satisfied smile danced on his lips as he pulled you in for a kiss before his middle finger entered your wet hole, making you moan against the kiss. In a slow, torturous way, he curled his finger while moving it in and out the best he could, the heel of his hand occasionally pressuring your clit as his lips never got tired of your own.

In a swift movement, he added his ring finger inside, curling them while putting pressure on your cit while his other hand put pressure on your neck, forcing your face up to kiss him as your legs were already way too weak to hold you in place, only making Yunho smirk as he started to pump him fingers in and out of you, watching your face twist in pleasure.

“Who does this cunt belong to?” You couldn’t utter a coherent sound as his fingers nimbly worked their way to help you reach your high. His adorned fingers tighten around your neck making you whimper as your legs start to shake. “To whom does this fucking pussy belong to?”

“To you,” the cry came as his fingers slowed down inside you enough to help you make a coherent phrase. Knowing Yunho was smirking at your words you manage to open your eyes just enough to find him mere centimeters away from you, the lust in his eyes helping with the build up in your stomach. “This pussy is all yours, Yunho.”

“That’s it, pretty, now let’s make sure no one forgets it, yes?” You cried as his fingers left your wet folds, being denied the orgasm you so long waited, but as you watched him lick his wet fingers, you could’ve swore you could cum on sight. “Are you gonna be good for me pretty?” You mumble a small ‘yes’ as you watch him guide his fingers towards your mouth. “Suck it, let’s see if this helps you remind how good I make you feel, yeah?”

As your lips parted, he pushed the two fingers inside, eyes darkening even more as he feels your tongue swirl around it, your lips firmly on the base of his fingers as your eyes never lost contact with his. At that, your hips started to move against his leg in between your thighs, making him chuckle but not stopping you for a second as he observes your wreck yourself using him. To watch you beg and ruin was one of the favorites views he had, so have you do this without him saying, was making him harder in his trousers.

His fingers quickly left your mouth as he pulled both yours legs up, making you wrap them around his waist as he guided you to Haechan’s bed. Your friend was totally gonna kill you if he found out, but in that moment, all you wanted was Jeong Fucking Yunho. He dropped you on the bed making you gasp before his hands grab your jaw making you eye him. His unadorned fingers quickly untied his belt and opened his tight pants as you held eye contact with him. Your fingers traveling over your thigh finding your clothed core, you could already feel the wet patch regardless of the panties and shorts that were forming a barrier.

“Please, Yuyu,” you begged as he watched your fingers travel to in between your legs.

“Lose the shorts and panties,” he let go of your jaw and you did as you were told, knees finding the mattress as you finished taking you panties off, being thrown along with Yunho’s pants and vest on the side of the bed. “Now take this useless excuse of a dress,” your arms crossed in front of you, taking the dress away as you watched him unbutton his shirt, watching your naked body in front of you. “So fucking beautiful, so fucking mine.”

“All yours,” your hands pulled him in for a kiss as the button down shirt met the rest of the pile, the only piece of fabric between you two being the fucking boxers, that you were quick to put your hand through, finding his hard heated leaking cock, making him moon against your lips. “I want your cock, Yun, please, let me have your cock.”

“All fours, now.”

As you turned around, he got rid of his boxers, pumping his dick using the pre cum, watching your glistening pussy welcome him. A low groan left his mouth as you wiggled your bottom to him, but instead of getting his cock, a harsh slap found your asscheek making you jolt and moan in pain, the chuckle Yunho gave being the only answer you were gonna have. Behave like a fucking brat, you get treated like a fucking slut. Not that you cared, but in that moment, you wanted his cock, and if you kept acting like that, you knew he wouldn’t dick you down until he got you crying in bed.

So, in response, all you did was lower your upper body into the mattress, face turned to the side as one of your hands went up your clit rubbing it eagerly, as he watched your every move. As he felt you had suffered enough, he took two steps towards the bed, his cockheading meeting your wet folds, making your fingers leave your clit as you knew what expected you. In a torturously slow, calculated movement, his cockhead entered you just enough to have you crying for more.

As you were about to plea to him again, he buried himself inside of you, holding your hips the same second he felt you jolt forward, holding you in place as he felt you adjust to his size, groaning as he felt you clench around his length while panting face in the bed. The only sign you gave him that it was okay to move, was your hips moving. The chuckle came the same second you felt him pull out almost completely before starting ramming inside of you in a swift motion, hitting your cervix with every single thrust, making you cry a little.

One of your hands went to find his adorned fingers, as the unadorned ones got a hold of your hair, pulling your head back, as your hand held his adorned fingers in a tight grip. His erratic pace along with his breathing and his cock hitting all the right places, not helping you keep your sanity or a low volume. “Touch yourself for me, pretty, I want you creaming on my cock while I fill you up, can you do that, hun?”

Without a second to waste, your available hand reached your bundle of nerve, circle movements quickly taking over as you tried your best to keep a sane mind as you felt Yunho’s deep inside you, saying the filthiest things against your ear as he watched you coming undone with a cocky smirk. It didn’t take you long to come undone with a loud moan as you creamed around Yunho’s dick, as he kept ramming inside of you chasing his own high.

“Cum for me, Yuyu, make me yours for life.”

With that he came inside of you, letting go of your hair, allowing your body to finally hit the mattress, but he kept holding your hips up as he pulled out of you, watching as part of his seed fell out of your hole before pushing it all back with his fingers, making your squirm at the overstimulated area.

“Keep it all inside pretty, once we get back to my frat I want to see it all still there if you have plans on going anywhere tomorrow.” You cried as he pulled his fingers away, cleaning them on your ass as he watched you clenched your used pussy, trying to keep all of his cum inside. “That’s my good girl,” he kissed your ass close to your cunt before turning to find all your clothes, quickly picking your panties and putting on your legs, before throwing you short shorts through the room, making you complain before eyeing you carefully. “You are mine, there’s no point in using that thing anymore, no one will get near what's mine and it will make it easier to see if you kept my cum inside of you or not without that piece of fabric you call shorts.”

general masterlist here ♡

network: @cultofdionysusnet ♡ @atzhouse ♡

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

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shellseaisms · 5 months ago

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downloading from the exchange without a registered game account lol

writing up this little "guide" both so that I remember how to do this & also for those of you who don't know this little trick yet. this isn't just for the crowd who illegally obtained their game; some of us registered our games when we were 12 years old, don't remember our passwords and no longer have access to the email address we used for the account teehee anyways guide under the cut

I use google chrome, things might look a bit different if you use another browser but it should be pretty similar across the board I would imagine.

find what you want to download (this is a world. obviously), right click the page itself and press 'view page source' (or press ctrl + u if you're a shortcut gamer)

this opens a new page, next thing you're gonna do is press ctrl + f to bring up the search bar in the top right of the page. search sims3pack and it should bring back at least one instance (sometimes there are two, if there's multiple you can use either link; it's the same one I'm pretty sure)

highlight the link that ends in .sims3pack (don't include the quotation marks or anything else, you literally just want the link) and either copy + paste that into your address bar, or right click and press 'go to insert link here'. it should just start the download from there.

sometimes its a bit finicky and brings back an error page; usually switching users on google chrome or opening an incognito tab fixes this for me.

ok cool that's it. hope this helps

#ts3 #guide #sorry but the exchange is so annoying so everyone should know this

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

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Hi sorry to bother you but I've been thinking about switching to firefox (currently using chrome) and I really want to do it but a tech savvier relative said it's way less secure and can lead to all sorts of trouble, so now I'm a bit hesitant and worried and I was wondering if you have any info you could share on how safe it is or how it compares to chrome? Thanks!

Both chrome and firefox are pretty secure from, like, a "is this hackable or vulnerable to known exploits" and "does this prevent users from inadvertently accessing insecure sites" perspective, but firefox is significantly more *private,* which means it's less likely to leak (or just straight up sell) data.

Basically i think your relative is incorrect and either working from outdated information (a lot of people have memories of firefox having issues when they were younger and they never followed up to see if those issues got resolved) or they're just seeing a lot of pro-chrome stuff with nothing to balance it out.

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baekhyunsbestie · 1 month ago

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── ❝ CHILL BABY ❞ 🪩🥂 ̟!!

⟢ a continuation of this :') switched up on the setting but the plot’s still p much the same hehe <333

જ⁀➴°⋆ content: 18+/MDNI. 19.3k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. jongin x f!reader. mentions of other exos. jealous!baekhyun. corporate!au. enemies to lovers. fake dating. one bed. ⟡ fluff & smut ⟡ alcohol consumption, explicit language, pet names, praise kink, body worship, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, creampie ⟡

you step into minseok’s pristine office, already feeling the weight of impending doom. the polished chrome desk, minimalist decor, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manhattan scream authority. unfortunately, the man sitting behind the desk—a seasoned negotiator with a no-nonsense attitude—screams something else: stress.

minseok gestures for you to sit, and your stomach drops when you see baekhyun already lounging in the chair across from him. he’s got that laid-back, insufferably confident posture, as if he owns the whole damn office. his tie is casually loosened, jacket tossed over the back of the chair like he’s at a bar instead of a meeting. he twirls a pen between his fingers with a carefree smirk, completely at ease as though this were some casual hangout, not an important work discussion.

your blood boils a little as you can’t help but notice how good he looks. it's infuriating—he looks effortlessly sharp in that tailored suit, the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make everything he wears look like it was meant for him. but it only adds to how much you hate him. everything about him rubs you the wrong way, especially when he knows exactly how to push your buttons without even trying.

“perfect timing,” minseok says, glancing between the two of you. “i’m glad you’re both here.”

you sit down reluctantly, throwing baekhyun a pointed glare. he meets your eyes, his slow, cocky grin widening in response.

“as you're both aware,” minseok begins, his tone serious, “our company, inb100, is on the verge of finalizing a crucial merger with kim corp. this partnership has the potential to redefine our future, expanding our reach and solidifying our position in the global market. the board is counting on us to ensure this merger goes off without a hitch. we need a strong, unified front to manage every detail and make sure everything aligns perfectly. that's where the two of you come in.”

“us two?” you repeat, narrowing your eyes in disbelief, the words tasting as bitter as they sound.

minseok nods, his expression calm, though the weight of his words lingers heavily in the room. “yes, you’ve consistently proven yourself to be one of our sharpest,” he says, his tone steady. then, shifting his attention to baekhyun, he continues, “and baekhyun, your financial analysis throughout this merger has been exceptional. as heads of your respective departments, it’s logical to assign you two to spearhead this project together.”

“exceptional,” baekhyun repeats, leaning back in his chair with a grin that’s equal parts smug and infuriating. he lets the word hang in the air like a trophy. then, with an exaggerated sweetness, he shifts his gaze to you. “you hear that, sweetheart? i’m exceptional.”

you roll your eyes, the movement sharp enough to cut. “yeah, well, even a blind squirrel finds a nut every now and then.”

his laugh comes easily, warm and unbothered, which only fuels your irritation. “oh, so you’re admitting i’ve got something worth finding?” he teases, leaning forward just enough to make his smirk even more unbearable. “i’m flattered. really.”

you pointedly ignore his comment, pivoting back to minseok as you try to make sense of this ridiculous pairing. “i’m sorry,” you say slowly, your voice a mix of disbelief and barely restrained irritation. “us two? as in me and baekhyun?”

minseok lets out a long, exasperated sigh, briefly closing his eyes as though regretting every life choice that led to this moment. he pinches the bridge of his nose before answering, his tone clipped. “yes, as in you and baekhyun... unfortunately.”

your jaw drops, and before you can stop yourself, your voice rises. “oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

baekhyun sits up straighter, his smirk vanishing as he frowns. “the fuck you mean, ‘unfortunately’?” he interjects, indignant. “i’m a goddamn asset to this company.”

“an asset?” you snap, turning to him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “you’re a walking liability.”

“alright, look,” minseok snaps, cutting through your bickering like a knife. “this isn’t optional. you’re both going to work together, and you’re going to make this merger happen without killing each other—or giving me a migraine.”

the room falls silent, except for the sound of baekhyun clicking his pen with obnoxious precision. he glances at you, his smirk creeping back like clockwork. “well,” he says, voice dripping with mock sincerity, “looks like we’re stuck together, partner.”

you grit your teeth, wishing for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. instead, you flash a tight smile and mutter under your breath, “yeah, lucky me.”

“stop,” minseok interjects. “i don’t have time for either of your antics. this is a very high-stakes deal, and you’ll need to work together professionally.”

you lean forward, gripping the edge of your seat. “sir, with all due respect, are you sure there’s no one else available that i can work with? someone with a shred of self-awareness, perhaps? hmm? maybe kyungsoo?”

baekhyun gasps mockingly, placing a hand over his chest. “wow, that’s the thanks i get for stepping in when you were about to miss your deadline for the ad campaign?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “missed? i wasn’t about to miss anything.”

he raises an eyebrow, smirking even more. “oh really? because i distinctly remember you practically pulling your hair out over that presentation. but, hey, no big deal. i was just the one who swooped in, fixed your last minute errors, and made sure everything got delivered on time.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “oh, please. fixed? more like rearranged everything i worked on just to make it fit your ‘vision.’”

baekhyun shrugs nonchalantly. “well, it worked, didn’t it? the client loved it. you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

minseok’s palm meets the desk with a resounding thud, the sharp sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you and baekhyun both jolt in your seats, your bickering silenced mid-breath.

“enough!” minseok’s voice is sharp, commanding, and leaves no room for argument. his eyes dart between the two of you, his patience clearly worn thin. “you’re both flying to hawaii in four days to seal the deal with kim corp. i don’t care if you need to hold hands, build a sand replica of the empire state building, or host a group therapy session on the beach—figure it out and make it happen.”

“hawaii?!” you and baekhyun say in unison, though your tones couldn’t be more different. yours is filled with disbelief; his is downright gleeful.

“yes, hawaii. the big island,” minseok sighs, rubbing his temples, clearly done with the constant bickering between you and baekhyun. “baekhyun, handle all the travel arrangements and accommodations.”

“in four days?” you squeak, the shock clearly written across your face. “b-but tomorrow's christmas!”

“and if you're both efficient, maybe you'll wrap things up before new year's,” minseok adds dryly, his voice edged with impatience.

you can't help but groan, dragging your hands down your face in disbelief. “this—this is a joke, right? can’t it wait until after the holidays?”

minseok shakes his head, his expression firm. “afraid not. both our board members and kim corp. are pushing to have this done as quickly as possible.”

the room falls into a tense silence. you blink at him, unsure whether to be more insulted by the lecture or horrified at the prospect of spending a week in paradise with baekhyun. meanwhile, baekhyun—ever the instigator—leans back in his chair, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“‘hold hands’, huh?” baekhyun drawls, casting you a teasing sidelong glance. his lips curve into a smirk, clearly amused by the idea. “what do ya say, sweetheart? should we start now?” he extends his hand toward you, fingers wiggling as if he’s daring you to take it.

you shoot him a withering glare, your patience wearing thin. you slap his hand away with a swift, practiced motion, but he just chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this.

minseok lets out a frustrated groan, rubbing his temples in exasperation, face twisted with a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “get the fuck out of my office. both of you. now.”

as you storm out of minseok’s office, the sharp click of your heels echoing down the hallway, baekhyun effortlessly falls into step beside you. his hands are tucked casually into his pockets, and he’s whistling a jaunty tune that only fuels your irritation.

“looks like we’re going to be spending a lot of quality time together, sweets,” he says, his tone practically dripping with amusement.

you don’t even spare him a glance, your eyes locked on the corridor ahead. “oh, i know, right?” you say, layering your voice with a fake, perky enthusiasm, clapping your hands together as if you couldn’t be more thrilled. “finally!”

out of the corner of your eye, you catch baekhyun’s reaction—his smile widens, stretching farther than you’ve ever seen, and for a split second, there’s something vulnerable in it. it’s as if your little act has caught him off guard, and maybe, just maybe, it’s made him feel a little… touched.

you continue, “maybe we can even do one of those excursions while we’re there... like a boat tour around the island or something?”

baekhyun blinks, clearly thrown by the shift in your tone. his usual cocky demeanor falters for just a second, a hint of pink creeping up his neck. “r-really?” he stammers, his voice softer, less certain. he runs a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck as he stumbles over his words. “i... i can look into it.”

your smile doesn’t falter. in fact, it only grows, but now there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. “yeah! and maybe while we’re out there, i can push you off the boat and into the ocean. and maybe, just maybe, i’ll finally be free of you.”

you both come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hallway, the tension between you palpable. baekhyun’s expression is a study in exaggerated betrayal—his jaw slack, eyes wide, and brows lifted as if you’ve just struck a fatal blow.

“ouch, sweetheart,” he says after a beat, his voice low and laced with wounded amusement. “you really had me going there.” he straightens with an air of mock dignity, brushing off your jab with a shrug that’s almost convincing.

but, of course, baekhyun can’t resist adding more. “even if you did push me off the boat,” he continues, a mischievous glint sparking in his dark eyes, “hate to break it to you, but i can swim.” he leans in slightly, his voice dropping conspiratorially as if sharing a secret. “word around the office, though, is that little miss head of the marketing department wouldn’t know what to do if she fell in.”

your brow arches sharply, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with a look so dry it could evaporate water. “we live in new york city, baekhyun. why the fuck would i ever need to know how to swim?”

there’s a brief pause before you tilt your head, the corner of your mouth twitching into something that barely resembles a smile. “congratulations, though,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “does the head of the finance department expect a medal or something?”

the corner of baekhyun’s mouth twitches, just enough to give you a glimpse of that infuriating, signature smirk of his. it’s the kind of smile that makes your stomach do flips, even though you’d rather be annoyed by it. but there's something about it—something you can't quite place—that pulls you in.

“sure,” he drawls, his voice smooth as velvet as he leans in a little closer. his face lowers until it's dangerously close to yours, making your breath catch in your throat. “i’ll take any kind of medal, especially if it’s comin’ from you, sweetheart.”

the air between you both feels thick with tension, his proximity almost dizzying. you force yourself to stay composed, a rush of heat crawling up your neck. “careful what you wish for, baekhyun,” you warn, your voice sharp, but there's the faintest tremor in it that betrays your cool front. “i might just hit you across the head with it.”

he laughs then, a deep, rolling sound that vibrates through your chest, somehow managing to be both incredibly irritating and impossibly charming. the way it lingers in the air is so annoyingly contagious that you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling.

the week hadn’t even started yet, and already, you were plotting how best to drown him in the ocean. for real this time.

the plane touches down with a soft jolt, and you can't help but groan under your breath. another business trip, another round of dealing with baekhyun's antics. as the seatbelt sign flickers off, you push yourself out of your seat, eyes already narrowing at him when you catch sight of his casual posture as he stands up and stretches, completely unbothered. typical.

“are you always this annoying, or is it just me?” you mutter, moving past him in the aisle.

baekhyun grins like he’s too pleased with himself. “you’re the only woman on this earth who’s immune to my charm, sweetheart. so yeah, it’s just you.”

you roll your eyes and trudge toward the door, where he follows right behind you, humming his ridiculous tune like he doesn’t have a care in the world. the last thing you need is to spend a whole week in his company, but here you are, stuck with him—again.

when you step into the airport terminal, you let out a long sigh. your heels click against the smooth floor as you make your way toward baggage claim. you’re half-focused on the carousel when baekhyun sidles up beside you, that damn grin still plastered on his face.

“so, what’s the hotel you booked for us?” you ask, feigning innocence, but already bracing yourself for whatever ridiculous answer he’s about to give.

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, twirling his bag strap like he’s the most important person in the world. “oh, i found us the perfect place. a real gem.” he pauses for dramatic effect. “one-star motel, just for you, babe.”

you elbow him in the ribs with a sharp jab, the motion automatic. you can’t even look at him for too long without feeling your frustration grow. he chokes on a laugh, pretending to be hurt as he leans away from you, clutching his side.

“okay, okay,” he says through the laughter, “i was kidding. i got us the ritz. you deserve no less, right?”

your eyes narrow in disbelief. “the ritz? really? you?”

he gives you a sly look, the same irritating grin still there. “what? don’t act so surprised. i’ve got taste.”

you roll your eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh, before your attention is abruptly yanked away by a very familiar figure standing just a few feet away from the carousel. your heart sinks, the sight of him instantly clouding your thoughts. jongin. your ex. the one who shattered your heart last year. the last person you ever expected to run into here.

jongin’s gaze flickers over to you, and a smug smile curls at the corners of his lips. “well, well, well,” he says, his voice smooth, laced with that same confident edge you remember so well. “what are the odds, huh? i didn’t think i’d be bumping into you of all people.”

your breath catches in your throat, and you can’t stop the small ache that forms in your chest, the memories flooding back despite your best efforts to push them down. he steps closer, his eyes scanning you, like he’s inspecting every inch of you as if he’s trying to figure out how you’ve changed. or maybe how he hasn’t.

“jongin?” you whisper, the name slipping from your lips in disbelief.

he quirks an eyebrow, a slight frown pulling at his features. “‘jongin?’” he repeats, his voice laced with surprise, “it was always ‘nini’ to you.”

you glance down at your feet, a sudden shyness washing over you. “it’s been a while,” you murmur, your voice barely above a breath.

“indeed, it has,” he replies, his gaze never leaving you, and this time it feels almost like heat. there’s a pause before he adds, his voice low, yet dripping with that familiar cocky edge, “you look... even better than i remember.” his grin curls up, just as self-assured as it always was.

you fight the urge to roll your eyes, though you can’t quite suppress the bitterness rising in your throat. you were fine without him, you remind yourself, but it’s hard to stay completely unaffected when he looks at you with that same damn smug expression.

“maybe fate’s decided we should reconnect. who knows what could come of it, right?” jongin continues, his voice teasing, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

before you can even think of a response, baekhyun steps in, his presence suddenly right at your side. without missing a beat, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him in a way that has you blinking up at him, completely thrown off by his sudden boldness. he looks at jongin, coolly meeting his gaze.

“sorry, don’t think we’ve met,” baekhyun says, his voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that’s anything but genuine. he tightens his arm around your waist just enough that you can feel the shift in his posture, like he’s pulling you into his orbit. his eyes flicker briefly to you before he meets jongin’s gaze again, sharp and calculating. “who are you?”

“relax, buddy,” jongin chuckles, clearly unfazed, though there’s an edge to his voice. “can’t a man talk to an old fling?”

baekhyun's smirk widens, but there’s a shift in his expression that sends a shiver creeping down your spine. his eyes narrow, no longer playful or teasing, but dark—almost predatory. the air around him seems to thicken, charged with something dangerous.

“of course he can,” he says, his voice smooth, almost too calm, but beneath the words lingers an undeniable edge. “just not when she's with her new boyfriend.” his eyes sharpen, scanning jongin from head to toe, the silent challenge in his stare unmistakable. “you understand, don’t you?”

boyfriend.

the word hits you like a slap. your mind blanks, then fills with the echo of that single word—boyfriend. boyfriend. boyfriend. it loops in your head, drowning out the noise around you.

you blink up at baekhyun, your pulse quickening as you try to process what just happened. the air between you seems to thicken, and for a moment, you’re unsure whether you’ve heard him right. but before you can gather your thoughts, his thumb brushes against the exposed skin of your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

“and trust me,” baekhyun continues, his voice still light, but there’s an edge of something in it now—something that sounds like possession. “she’s long forgotten your sorry ass. so no need to be ‘reconnecting’ anything. isn’t that right, my girl?”

you freeze for a beat, your brain scrambling to put together something that sounds convincing. you feel your heart thudding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears as you fight the strange, rising panic. why did he say that? your throat tightens as you try to process, to find some semblance of normalcy in this chaotic moment.

“ah, uh—y-yeah,” you stammer, the words sticking in your throat. you clear it quickly, hoping to mask the sudden shake in your voice. “jongin, this is baekhyun, my... boyfriend.” you gesture from jongin to baekhyun, your hand feeling oddly heavy.

the way you say it feels strange, as if the word boyfriend doesn’t quite fit, but the sincerity in baekhyun’s arm around you, the warmth of his touch, makes it feel... real.

you barely register jongin’s sharp inhale or the way his expression falters for a split second. baekhyun’s grip on you tightens for a moment before he leans down, his lips brushing your forehead in a quick, almost teasing kiss.

“we’re actually here for new year's, you know,” baekhyun says, his voice laced with a sweetness that you can’t quite shake off. “my girl can’t stand the cold back home, so we thought we’d escape for a bit.”

you glance up at baekhyun, trying to process how he knows exactly how much you hate the cold.

jongin stands there for a moment, the sharp glint in his eyes betraying the thoughts running through his mind. but before he can say anything more, his driver arrives, and he quickly shifts, offering a lazy smile as he turns to leave.

“well, that’s me,” he says, his voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and something darker, like he's savoring the moment. “as much as this reunion’s been... lovely, the ritz doesn’t wait, right? good luck with your little relationship, though. she’s only worth the first few rounds, by the way,” he adds, giving baekhyun a light slap on the shoulder, before his gaze shifts to you—cold, dismissive, and pointed.

with that, he turns on his heel and walks away, leaving the two of you standing there in a thick, uncomfortable silence. you exhale slowly, trying to shake off the tension that’s still hanging in the air.

baekhyun doesn’t release you, his arm staying firmly around your waist as he tugs you closer, the heat from his touch making the knot in your stomach tighten.

you shift uncomfortably, your voice barely above a whisper. “baekhyun? why... why did you do that?”

baekhyun shrugs, eyes avoiding yours as a cocky smirk spreads across his face. “he was a dick. and frankly, i’m the only one allowed to be a dick to you, sweetheart.”

you scoff, but the irritation quickly fades, especially with how close he’s standing. his presence is magnetic—infuriatingly comfortable, and you find it hard to stay mad when you’re this close to him.

“w-wait—” you stammer, hurrying to keep up with baekhyun as he walks toward the luggage carousel. you watch him reach for the bags, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the defined muscles of his forearms as he moves effortlessly. as much as you’re tempted to linger on the sight of his bare forearms and the veins that run along them, your thoughts are still tangled in the conversation you just left behind. “he said he’s going to the ritz?”

baekhyun pauses, his fingers wrapping around the handle of your suitcase as he turns to glance back at you. his brow arches slightly, and there’s a fleeting flicker in his expression—something sharp, maybe irritation or even jealousy, though you can’t quite pinpoint it. it’s subtle, but it’s there, simmering beneath his calm exterior. “yeah? and?”

you falter, the realization crashing into you like a freight train. “you… you booked our stay at the ritz.”

the words hang in the air, and for a second, baekhyun doesn’t respond. instead, he straightens, pulling your suitcase off the carousel with a practiced ease before grabbing his own. his movements are unhurried, deliberate, like he’s giving himself time to decide how to respond.

finally, he lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm but edged with amusement. “oh, i see what you mean now.” his gaze flickers to you, his lips curving into that infuriatingly cocky smile. “what? you worried about running into him again? don’t tell me you’re still hung up on that asshole.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms defensively. “no, i’m not hung up on him. it’s just…weird. what are the odds, right?”

baekhyun shrugs, completely unfazed. “doesn’t matter, sweets. it’s the ritz. i booked it because you deserve nothing less. if he’s staying there too, that’s his problem, not ours.” he smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that always manages to irritate and disarm you all at once. “besides, if he shows up, i’ll just remind him who you’re with now.”

his words hang in the air, casual but loaded, and you’re left staring at him, your cheeks heating as you struggle to come up with a response. typical baekhyun—always leaving you flustered and one step behind.

the car ride to the hotel is the kind of moment you’d want to capture forever. the windows are rolled down, letting the warm, golden sunshine pour in, and the tropical breeze carries the scent of saltwater and plumeria. you lean your head back against the seat, letting your eyes flutter closed for just a second as the warmth kisses your skin. it feels almost unreal, the stark contrast to the biting cold and slate-gray skies of new york city that you left behind.

cold never suited you.

you’d always hated bundling up in layers, the way your breath fogged up the air, and how the snow turned into a slushy mess on the sidewalks. you hated it all. and yet, somehow, baekhyun knew.

you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to piece it together. he’s relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand loosely gripping the steering wheel while the other rests on the open window’s edge. his shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is ruffled slightly from the breeze. he looks completely at ease, like he belongs in this setting, soaking up the sun and radiating that same kind of effortless warmth.

“you’re quiet,” he says, breaking the silence. his voice is light, teasing, but not overbearing. “cat got your tongue, or are you just enjoying my company?”

“yeah, you wish,” you quip back, but there’s no real bite in your tone. your gaze drifts out the window, watching the palm trees blur past. “it’s just… nice here. warm. i like it.”

“better than new york, huh?” baekhyun grins, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing back on the road. “figured you’d like it here.”

you blink, caught off guard. “you… figured? what do you mean?”

he shrugs, his casual demeanor just a little too smug for your liking. “you complain about the cold every chance you get,” he says, ticking off each point like a laundry list. “you show up to work in like three coats, a scarf, a beanie, gloves—and don’t even get me started on that sauna of an office you keep. every time i have to drop off paperwork, i’m convinced i’m walking into a tropical rainforest.”

“oh.” your frown deepens, a flicker of embarrassment creeping in. you hadn’t realized your habits were that obvious, but then again, this is baekhyun—he notices everything, even the things you wish he wouldn’t.

“besides,” he continues, his tone softening, “you deserve a break. and yeah, i know you’d probably rather be on this trip with some other loser from work, but…” his eyes flick to yours briefly, something playful but sincere lingering there, “i figured at least the weather would make you happy.”

and you are happy, you realize, though admitting it feels like giving him too much credit. the sun, the warm breeze, the open windows—it’s all so far removed from the icy grind of your usual routine. the air feels lighter here, and maybe, just maybe, so do you.

you glance at him again, catching the slight curve of his lips, that telltale satisfied smile that says he knows he got this one right. it’s annoying, really, but for once, you can’t summon the energy to fight him on it.

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely cutting through the rush of the wind outside.

he doesn’t miss a beat. “‘course,” he says, his smile widening like he’s been waiting for you to say it. then, because he’s baekhyun, he adds, “but hey, if you want to admit i’m the best coworker ever, i won’t stop you.”

you roll your eyes, but even that feels easier here. you settle back against the seat, the sun warming your skin, and let yourself enjoy the moment—just this once.

the lobby buzzes with the energy of holiday travelers—laughter, the distant sound of luggage wheels, the soft clinking of champagne flutes from the bar nearby. you and baekhyun stand at the concierge desk, your patience already wearing thin as the desk clerk types furiously into their computer.

“ah, yes,” the clerk says, glancing up with a polite smile. “we have you booked for one room—honeymoon suite, king bed.”

you blink. “i’m sorry, what?”

“the honeymoon suite,” they repeat, a tinge of unease creeping into their voice as they register your disbelief. “with one king bed.”

“that can’t be right,” you say, your tone sharp enough to slice through the holiday cheer around you. “honeymoon suite? are you sure you pulled up the right reservation? we’re here on a work trip, not a honeymoon. i’m sure we were supposed to have two rooms?”

the clerk’s smile falters, replaced by a wince of sympathy. “i’m so sorry,” she says, her voice overly apologetic. “the reservation only shows one room—the honeymoon suite. and unfortunately, we’re completely booked because of the holidays, so i can’t offer you any additional rooms. however, there is a sofa bed in the suite,” she adds, as though that detail might soften the blow.

it doesn’t.

you pivot on your heel, fixing baekhyun with an incredulous glare. your expression says it all: are you kidding me? meanwhile, he looks as relaxed as ever, one hand casually resting on the counter, the other in his pocket. the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to make your blood boil.

“baekhyun,” you hiss, your voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but packed with enough fury to cut through his smug demeanor—or so you hope. “what the hell happened, king of the fucking finance department? you were in charge of the booking.”

he meets your gaze, his smirk growing into something downright infuriating. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver, just stands there like he owns the place, completely unbothered. and for a split second, you think he might actually find your irritation entertaining.

he blinks at you, eyes wide with mock shock as he lets out an exaggerated gasp. “i could have sworn i booked two rooms.”

your jaw tightens, your glare sharp enough to pierce through steel, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. instead, he turns back to the clerk, his tone smooth and unbothered. “oh well,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, as though sharing a bed is the most natural thing in the world. “it’s fine. we’ll make it work.”

before you can even open your mouth to protest, he plucks the two room keys off the counter, his lips curving into a disarmingly charming smile. “thanks so much!” he says, his voice all honey and confidence, before grabbing your belongings and striding toward the elevators like he’s just won a prize.

you stand there, rooted to the spot, half-fuming and half-stunned, before your feet finally propel you forward. your steps are quick and purposeful as you catch up to him. “baekhyun, i swear—”

he lets out a dramatic sigh, leaning against the elevator wall. “look, this was a pretty impromptu trip,” he explains, his voice taking on a softer tone, though the glint in his eye tells you he’s not entirely innocent. “we only found out about it a few days ago and it was the best—and only—room available. sorry, sweets.”

you narrow your eyes at him, lips pressed into a tight line. “‘sweets’? seriously, baekhyun, you need to cut it with the cute pet names before i smother you in your sleep tonight.”

he raises an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “what? you wouldn’t do that to your boyfriend, would you?” he teases, the words dripping with amusement as his grin grows wider.

the moment you step into the room, you're hit with its effortless elegance. the soft, golden light of the hawaiian afternoon floods in through the large windows, casting a warm glow across the expansive suite. the walls are decorated with modern art that feels both stylish and inviting, while the floors are covered in a plush cream-colored rug that matches the dark wood furniture. a massive king-sized bed dominates the room, draped in crisp white linens with fluffy pillows stacked high. to your left, there’s a sleek glass-walled shower and a soaking tub that looks out over the coast. it’s a peaceful, luxurious space, and for just a moment, you forget all the chaos of the check-in.

you sigh contentedly and make a beeline for the bed. it’s so inviting, the mattress looking impossibly soft, the kind of bed you can sink into and never want to leave. without hesitation, you plop down, burying yourself in the comfort of the bed and letting out a blissful hum. “dibs on the bed tonight,” you say, looking up at baekhyun with a mischievous grin.

he stares at you for a moment, lips curling into a smirk. “oh, no you don’t,” he retorts, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “this bed’s big enough for both of us. we’ll just share.”

you shake your head, hands stretching out like you're claiming territory. “nope. you can take the sofa, my guy. i’m calling it. this is my bed.”

baekhyun chuckles, a low, amused sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. he leans back, feigning deep thought, but the playful glint in his eyes gives him away. he’s not nearly as irritated as he wants you to believe. "fine," he finally says with a dramatic sigh, standing up and stretching as if the very act of standing is a monumental task. “i’ll take the sofa, even though i’m not thrilled about that.”

you watch him, trying to maintain your cool, but the unexpected pang in your chest catches you off guard. the way he’s pretending to be put out, the effort he’s putting into making it seem like he’s sacrificing something when he’s clearly just messing around—it all hits you. for a split second, you feel bad. genuinely bad. a small voice in your head whispers that maybe he’s doing this to be nice, that maybe he’s not as bad as you keep telling yourself.

but no. you push it down. you’ve made your decision about him, and you won’t let him worm his way in with his charm. you hate him, and nothing—nothing—will change that.

suddenly, baekhyun halts, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, though the faintest trace of a smirk remains tugging at the corners of his mouth. “i’m gonna shower first. we can finish figuring out the whole sleeping arrangement afterward, but i’m down for a pillow wall, if you are, sweets.”

his gaze flickers to yours, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “i know that was on your mind,” he adds, his tone dripping with smug confidence. and damn it, that annoys you, because he’s right. it pisses you off, that he knows you so well.

he leans in slightly, voice smooth as silk, his smirk widening. “and hey,” he continues, “you wouldn’t want your dear old boyfriend to end up on the not-as-comfy sofa, right? be a good girlfriend, would ya?” there's a challenge in his tone, one that pulls at something inside you, a knot tightening in your chest.

you stare at him for a beat, trying to muster up the usual annoyance, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. “you’re insufferable, baekhyun,” you mutter.

he winks at you, not missing a beat. “thanks, sweets. oh, and by the way,” he adds, tone dropping to one of mock seriousness, “don’t leave your expensive shampoos and stuff out, okay? if i find them, you’ll be watching me use them all up. fair warning.”

“don’t even think about it!” you call after him, but you can’t hide the amused smirk tugging at your lips. you watch him disappear into the bathroom, the sound of the shower starting a few seconds later.

your mind is a blur from everything that happened today. the weight of it all presses down on you, and the only thing you can focus on is shuffling through your bag to pull out your laptop. your fingers tremble as you tell yourself that, if you're going to avoid thinking about it all, you might as well get some work done.

so, you dive into your tasks—attempting to organize baekhyun's script and fine-tune a presentation. it’s a half-hearted effort, though. the words blur together, and the sound of your own thoughts fades, the distraction of everything around you creeping in.

you're barely getting anywhere when the sound of running water suddenly stops, pulling you from the haze of your work. the bathroom door creaks open, and your heart skips a beat as you glance up, knowing exactly what’s coming.

and there he is.

baekhyun.

fucking shirtless.

the same baekhyun who has spent months throwing paper clips at you during meetings, the one who always swiped the last muffin in the break room—one he knew you’d been eyeing all day. standing there, completely unbothered by your presence, his sharp hip bones and smooth muscle curves on full display.

his broad shoulders practically fill the doorway of the bathroom, water droplets still clinging to his skin, glistening under the light as they trail down his collarbones, catching the soft glow of the room. they follow the sharp planes of his abs, disappearing just below the towel hanging low on his waist—just barely hiding the path that your eyes desperately try to pull away from.

you swallow hard, fighting the flush rising to your cheeks, but the image is already burned into your mind.

you turn away from him, trying your best to ignore the way your body seems to heat up at the sight of him standing there, half-drenched and smug.

“baekhyun,” you huff, shaking your head. “will you put some fucking clothes on?”

he just raises an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by your discomfort, and with a teasing grin, he casually asks, “could you toss me my clothes, sweetheart? i kinda left them on the bed.”

you roll your eyes but can’t stop the small sigh that escapes your lips. “you’re unbelievable.”

turning, you walk over to the bed where his clothes lay, carefully picking them up and making your way toward the bathroom. the large, opulent space feels even bigger as you step inside, and you can feel the humidity from the steam still lingering in the air.

as you step closer to him, your foot slips on the puddle of water he carelessly left on the floor. your balance falters, and before you can catch yourself, baekhyun's quick reflexes come into play, and he catches you by the waist.

his chest is still damp, and your body presses against his—his wet skin, still warm from the shower, sends a jolt through you, and for a moment, your mind blanks.

you can feel his heartbeat under your palm, and you pull yourself together, clearing your throat. “right. great. i, uh—thanks,” you mutter, pushing yourself away from him and regaining your composure.

baekhyun doesn’t seem fazed, his eyes still glinting with mischief as he looks down at you, but you quickly shake your head and take a step back, raising a hand. “out. now. i need to use the bathroom, and you’ve been hogging it long enough.”

he smirks, clearly amused, but doesn’t argue. “fine, fine. but you owe me for saving you from that puddle. you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, pulling a towel around his waist as he walks past you, his grin never fading.

you huff, watching him leave the bathroom, all too aware of the lingering heat between you. once you’re alone, you exhale sharply, trying to shake off the tension that’s built up.

the night is long, and you can’t seem to get comfortable. baekhyun, despite having his own side of the bed, is tossing and turning, invading the carefully constructed pillow wall you made between you two. every time he shifts, his arm brushes against your side or his leg nudges yours, making sleep impossible. you try to push him away, but he doesn’t stay put, and soon, your frustration reaches its peak.

with a deep sigh, you throw the covers off and slide out of bed, silently cursing the universe for putting you in this position. without another thought, you drag your pillow and blanket over to the couch, settling in the cramped space. the sofa bed’s not great, but it’s better than trying to sleep next to baekhyun, who seems completely oblivious to your discomfort.

hours pass, and though you’re exhausted, sleep doesn’t come easily. the sofa bed is too short, and the padding is far from comfortable, leaving your back sore and your mind restless. you spend the night staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thoughts running through your head.

finally, as the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, you hear baekhyun stirring. you sit up, rubbing your eyes and immediately checking your laptop to avoid looking at him. the soft sound of him getting out of bed fills the room, and you can almost hear his confusion when he spots the sofa bed.

he’s quiet for a beat before his voice rings out with disbelief. “wait, seriously? you’re on the couch?” his tone is a mix of surprise and concern.

you glance at him from over your laptop, blinking away the grogginess. “yeah,” you reply, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “it wasn’t that bad.”

baekhyun’s brow furrows as he walks toward you, eyes scanning the couch and then locking onto you with a look of confusion. “but still…” he says, his voice soft but serious, “i would've rather had you stay in bed, and me go onto the shitty couch. you going on the sofa bed sounds like something that other guy would have you do.”

he sits down next to you on the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth of his body seep into yours. despite the proximity, he acts as if this is completely normal, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and yet, it’s throwing you off, making you question what exactly is going on between you two. but then you notice the subtle shift in his expression—a slight wince—as he realizes just how uncomfortable this is. it’s a fleeting moment, but you catch it, and it makes you smirk.

you laugh softly, breaking the tension. “okay, okay, fine. i’ll kick you out if you don’t behave tonight.”

baekhyun raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “not even gonna send me straight to the couch?” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “gonna give me a chance on the bed tonight? you goin’ soft on me, sweetheart? promise i won’t disappoint. y’know, women are actually trying to get into my bed, not out of it.”

you roll your eyes at him, shaking your head at his cocky demeanor. without warning, you start throwing pillows at him, laughing as you yell, “actually, you can sleep on the beach tonight, you fucking loser.”

he jumps off the couch, trying to dodge the pillows with a dramatic flair. “it’s too early in the day for you to be this violent, woman!” he yells, grinning like a maniac.

“oh, please!” you laugh, barely able to contain your amusement. “this is a normal tuesday for us, baekhyun.”

just as you’re about to throw another pillow, a loud knock echoes from the door, cutting through the chaos.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

baekhyun flops back onto the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath him as you both listen to the sharp knock at the door. but before you can even move, you take the opportunity to lob one last pillow at him—smacking him squarely in the face while he's still caught off guard. you quickly shuffle toward the door, eager to beat him to the punch before he can retaliate.

you wonder, just for a second, if it’s an employee delivering the good news that there's another room available, something that might finally make this whole situation more bearable. but as you open the door, your breath catches in your throat.

standing in the doorway, looking like a storm cloud ready to explode, is jongin. his glare could slice through steel, and his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, lips curling into a sneer.

“of fucking course” he mutters, his voice dripping with venom, “it would be you two making all that noise next door.”

you sigh, an exasperated, barely contained groan slipping from your lips. “great. perfect. just what i needed,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose as the last of your patience slips away. “what do you want, jongin?”

his sneer deepens, and his voice drops into something more menacing. “to shut the hell up,” he snaps. “some of us are still trying to sleep. i don’t care what pathetic excuse of a dick he’s giving you—”

“is that all?” you interrupt, your voice flat, cutting through his tirade before it can build. your hand slides the door open just a bit wider, your tone dry and uninterested. “if it is, i’ll get back to that ‘pathetic dick.’”

there’s a brief shuffle behind you, and before you can even react, you feel the heat of baekhyun's body press against your back, the sharpness of his presence unmistakable. he leans in close, his voice a low, almost playful hum that sends a shiver down your spine.

“what’s all this about pathetic dick?” he asks, his tone smooth and dangerously seductive, “‘cus it sure as hell can’t be mine.”

jongin’s eyes flick to baekhyun, and the tension between the two men is palpable, charged with unspoken animosity.

your face heats instantly as baekhyun’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you tight against him. the warmth of his body is almost too much to handle, and his dark eyes glint with amusement as he tilts his head down to meet yours. the smirk that curls at the corner of his lips is nothing short of lethal. “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” his voice teasing and sure.

“uh... yeah,” you stammer, the words slipping out a little too quickly, your throat tight and a rush of warmth spreading beneath your skin.

jongin’s sharp gaze narrows, cutting through the space between you and baekhyun. “she doesn’t sound very convinced,” he sneers, his lips curling into a venomous smirk. “guess she’s been missin’ a real man, huh?”

without even sparing him a glance, baekhyun’s attention remains solely on you. his lips hover dangerously close to your neck, brushing just enough to send a shiver racing down your spine. “well,” he murmurs, his voice dipped in sweet, honeyed malice, “who’s been makin’ her scream all morning?”

he angles his head slightly, exposing a red splotch on his jaw, a visible mark left from the earlier cushion assault. but the way it stands out against his skin speaks to something far more suggestive. his gaze flicks to jongin, sharp and mocking. “we’ll try to keep the noise down. now, why don’t you go be a good neighbor and fuck off?”

before jongin can retort, baekhyun’s grip on you tightens, and he tugs you back and further into your shared room with a firm, deliberate motion. the door clicks shut behind you with a satisfying snap, the confrontation left to fizzle out on the other side.

the night had fully embraced the island, the sky a deep, velvety black speckled with a million stars. the moon hung low, casting a soft silver sheen over the water, which shimmered like liquid glass in the calm evening air. you and baekhyun had set up shop at the poolside, the faint sounds of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance acting as a subtle soundtrack to the tension brewing between you two.

the flickering glow of your laptop screen illuminated your focused face, but baekhyun’s insistent whining kept cutting through the silence, forcing you to push back any sense of calm.

“ugh, seriously? we’ve been here for hours.” baekhyun groaned, stretching dramatically in his chair, the sound of his back cracking loudly as he leaned back. his eyes fluttered closed for a second as he let out a deep sigh. “this is hawaii, hawaii, and we're just sitting here... working? you can’t be serious, sweetheart.”

your eyes remained locked on your laptop screen, fingers flying over the keys as you typed away. “it’s called responsibility, baekhyun,” you muttered without looking up, your voice dripping with subtle sarcasm. “though, given how little you seem to know about it, i’m not exactly surprised that word isn’t in your vocabulary.”

he groaned again, this time pushing his chair back with a squeak that sent a shiver through the otherwise still night. he stood up, stretching his arms above his head, his body languid and exaggerated in every movement. his pout was theatrical, like a child who hadn’t gotten his way. “but i didn’t come all the way here to work the entire time,” he whined, his voice almost teasing, “especially when we could be out there enjoying the beach, having fun. we’re just gonna stare at spreadsheets and powerpoints the whole damn time? come on, sweets, let’s at least take a walk on the beach for a bit. i hear there’s a cool bar down there... just down the way. you deserve a break.”

he’s right. you can feel the strain in your eyes and the thought of a cold piña colada from the bar sounds like the perfect remedy right now. “fine,” you snap, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension. “but we have deadlines, baekhyun. we can't lose out on this merger just because you wanna fuck around and—”

your sentence is abruptly interrupted when you stand to gather your things, unintentionally bumping into baekhyun in the process.

he stumbles backward, his arms flailing in a frantic attempt to regain balance. his eyes go wide in exaggerated mock horror, a grin tugging at his lips. and then—PLOP!—he crashes straight into the pool, fully clothed, the sudden splash sending a wave of water over the edge, soaking the surrounding area.

you froze, your mouth dropping open in shock. “oh my god, baekhyun! i didn’t mean to—”

baekhyun surfaced, his drenched hair clinging to his forehead as he wiped the water from his face with a laugh. “really? you accidentally pushed me into the pool?” his voice dripped with amusement, the playful glint in his eyes only making him more insufferable.

you instinctively extended your hand, guilt rising in your chest. “i’m sorry! here, let me help you out.”

but baekhyun had other plans. before you could react, he seized your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, and tugged you toward him with a mischievous glint in his eye. “oh no, sweetheart, you’re not getting off that easy.”

a startled gasp escaped you as you stumbled toward the pool’s edge. in one swift motion, baekhyun yanked you into the water with him. the cold hit you like a shockwave, your body stiffening as the chill enveloped you, leaving your heart racing.

you froze for a split second, panic surging through you as the cold water surrounded you. “baekhyun!” you sputtered, your voice shaky as your heart pounded in your chest. “i-i can't swim!”

without hesitation, baekhyun’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you effortlessly against his chest. his body was warm against yours, his presence grounding in a way that made your head spin. “don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice calm and soothing, but with an edge of something playful. “i’ve got you.”

his grip was firm, almost possessive, and it only intensified the heat flooding your cheeks. your body pressed so close to his, it felt impossible to breathe without feeling the weight of his every movement. you squirmed a little, trying to pull away, but his hold remained unyielding. “i swear, i’m gonna kill you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, frustration rising in your chest.

baekhyun’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest, low and teasing, sending a shiver racing down your spine. “if you kill me, princess,” he whispered, his breath warm and distracting against the side of your face, “you’re goin’ down with me.” his voice dropped to a mockingly romantic tone. “kinda poetic, though, don’t ya think? like romeo and juliet.”

before you could respond, the sliding glass door to jongin’s room swung open, and his voice rang out, breaking through the tension. “if you two are going to have sex in the pool, i’m calling security!” he yelled.

you froze, your cheeks burning as your embarrassment peaked. you were so done with baekhyun.

baekhyun, on the other hand, only laughed louder, his chest rumbling beneath your hands. “what?! can’t a man fuck his girl in peace? knew you were an asshole, but didn’t know you’d be a fuckin�� cockblock, too!”

you pushed against his chest, desperately trying to break free, the words slipping from your lips in a breathless hiss. “i swear, i'm going to kill you.”

and just like that, it was as if the spell that had bound the two of you together shattered, leaving everything heavy and tense. before he could even react, you were already grabbing your things, fleeing back toward the suite with a hurried, frantic urgency. leaving him behind and very, very alone.

the soft hum of the hotel room’s air conditioner was the only sound filling the space as you nestled deeper into the plush sheets, a gentle sigh escaping your lips. the warm water of the shower had relaxed your muscles, the exhaustion from the day melting away with each droplet. wrapped in a fluffy robe, you felt cozy in the bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a peaceful light around the room.

you absentmindedly took another sip from your glass of water, the coolness of it soothing your dry throat. the day had been long, filled with endless emails and phone calls, and tomorrow’s presentation with kim corp. lingered in your mind like a weight you couldn’t shake. you’d be expected to nail it. your mind buzzed with all the things that could go wrong, all the ways you might stumble.

baekhyun returned to the room quietly, his footsteps barely audible against the soft carpet. he entered, holding a pineapple-shaped glass filled with a creamy piña colada, the faint scent of coconut and rum reaching you before he even spoke. his gaze immediately found you, and that ever-present, playful grin tugged at his lips.

“a peace offering,” he said casually, stepping closer, his voice gentle but full of the usual teasing warmth. “for the whole, y’know, pool incident earlier.”

you shot him a half-hearted glance, barely meeting his eyes. you could hear the slight edge of frustration in your own voice when you responded. “you didn’t have to drag me into the pool like that.”

baekhyun chuckled, his eyes bright with that mischievous glint. “maybe not, but it was fun, wasn’t it?”

you let out a sigh, a mixture of exasperation and amusement tugging at your lips, a reluctant smile curling despite yourself. baekhyun set the piña colada down on the bedside table with a soft clink, then proceeded to strip off his clothes. you quickly turned your gaze to the side, trying your best not to look, but god, it was nearly impossible not to glance. his body was a work of art—toned muscles, perfectly sculpted. even in the soft light of the room, the sight of him was enough to make your breath hitch. you forced your attention elsewhere, trying to keep your thoughts in check, but it was hard to ignore the way your body reacted.

he walked toward the bathroom, his steps sure and confident, and the sound of running water soon filled the space. you exhaled, attempting to push those thoughts from your mind, but it wasn’t easy. a few moments later, the sound of the water stopped, and the bathroom door creaked open. baekhyun emerged, freshly showered, his hair slightly damp and tousled, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering in the air. he wore nothing more than a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, but even in the most casual clothes, he still looked effortlessly stunning.

it was fucking infuriating.

he slid into the bed beside you with his usual ease, like it was second nature to him, yet his eyes didn’t stray from you. they lingered, observing you with that familiar intensity. you could feel his gaze on you, but you refused to meet it. something about the way he was looking at you made your heart race, and you didn’t know if it was the exhaustion from the day or the way he seemed to have an unspoken understanding of everything.

the pillow wall, once a physical barrier, seemed to stretch into something more now. as he shifted closer, his gaze flicked over you—keen, observant, knowing. his eyes softened slightly, as if sensing the quiet tension still holding you.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was watching. you bit your lip, furrowing your brow, lost in thoughts that weighed heavier than you let on. of course, baekhyun noticed. he noticed everything about you. the way your shoulders were slightly hunched, the tightness in your jaw, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket just a little too hard.

he shifted, leaning toward you with a gentle, reassuring smile, his voice low and smooth as he spoke. “y’know... you did great today. we both did.” his hand hovered just shy of the pillow wall, like he wanted to close the space but didn’t push. “and we’ll do great tomorrow too. you always do.”

you met his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, his words cut through the whirl of your thoughts like a breath of fresh air. you felt the tension in your shoulders ease, the grip on the blanket loosening as you let out a long, slow breath. “you always say that,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips, though it was almost fond.

you couldn’t help but remember how baekhyun had always been the first to notice when you were nervous before presentations or meetings. he’d show up early, stand next to you, and assure you that you were going to crush it, always with that playful glint in his eye. at the time, you took it as nothing more than sarcasm, a part of his usual flirting. but now, as his words settled in your chest, a realization hit you. maybe—just maybe—he’d always been genuine. even when he was a flirtatious bastard.

baekhyun’s smile deepened, his eyes softening in that rare, vulnerable way you’d only ever seen in private moments. “’cus it’s true. you always pull through, no matter how much you’re stressing. you’ve got this. don’t let it eat you up.” the sincerity in his tone sent a ripple through you, and for the first time, you wondered if there was more to him than just the cocky, teasing persona he showed to the world.

you didn’t respond at first, your heart racing with the weight of tomorrow’s pressure. but his words, those simple, honest words, had a way of grounding you. slowly, you turned your head toward him, no longer worried about the invisible wall that still seemed to separate you. you didn’t need to say anything. his presence alone was enough to make you feel like you weren’t carrying the weight of it all alone.

baekhyun didn’t move any closer, but the space between you felt smaller somehow. his gaze remained steady on yours, the soft glow of the room casting gentle shadows across his features. he wasn’t going to let you carry it all on your own. and somehow, that reassurance settled your nerves more than anything.

the tension that had clouded the room seemed to dissipate, leaving a quiet, comfortable silence between you two. you finally took a sip of your piña colada, the cold sweetness of it sliding down your throat, and for the first time in hours, you allowed yourself to relax.

baekhyun’s voice broke the silence, playful as ever. “and don’t worry. if you need me to bail you out tomorrow, i’ll be right there, by your side. y’know i’m good at that.”

you chuckled softly, feeling a bit of the weight lift from your shoulders. “i’m sure you’ll find a way to ‘help,’ baekhyun.”

he grinned, his hand reaching out to briefly touch the edge of your pillow, just enough to let you know he was there. “always do, sweetheart. always do.”

and for the first time this entire trip, you felt like you might actually be able to sleep.

baekhyun leaned back in his chair, eyes unfocused as he traced the pattern on the desk with his finger, his mind drifting. the memory came flooding back—three years ago, the first day you’d officially stepped into the role of head of marketing at inb100.

it was a strange, almost surreal day for him. kyungsoo, as usual, was directing everyone around with his quiet but unyielding authority. sehun and chanyeol were up on ladders, struggling to hang a banner that said welcome new head of marketing! the sight made baekhyun roll his eyes as he watched them fumble with the task, then leaned back in his chair to speak up.

“aww, you guys shouldn’t have. but i’ve already been here for a couple years now,” baekhyun jokes, grinning as he glanced over at kyungsoo. “also, i’m in finance, not marketing.”

kyungsoo didn’t even look up from his clipboard, his voice as dry as ever. “always the idiot, aren’t you, baekhyun?”

baekhyun’s grin faltered, his thoughts momentarily stalled as the weight of the greeting on the banner settled in. new head of marketing. it hadn’t crossed his mind much before, but now, the realization hit him like a punch to the gut. kyungsoo didn’t seem to care at all, his focus entirely on whatever task was in front of him. but baekhyun couldn’t shake the nagging curiosity gnawing at him. who would fill that role? would they fit into the mold of everyone else? or would they stand out, make waves? he wasn’t sure why it mattered, but it did.

“have you met the new head yet?” baekhyun asked, his voice a little sharper than he intended.

kyungsoo didn’t even glance up, still engrossed in whatever was on his clipboard. “nope, not yet,” he replied flatly. “but i hear she's real good.”

‘she’, huh?

baekhyun hummed thoughtfully, tapping his fingers against the desk. “you think if she’ll be like the others? you know? just another cog in the machine. or maybe something different... a ‘yes man’ like chanyeol, always eager tobe on minseok’s good side? or maybe a hardass, like you, kyungsoo?”

baekhyun continued, his words flowing out without much thought. but kyungsoo had already tuned him out, lost in his own world as usual, the conversation no longer holding any of his attention. baekhyun's voice trailed off as he realized no one was listening. he let out a small sigh, his thoughts lingering on the possibility.

but he quickly shrugged it off, dismissing the unease that began to coil in his chest. there was no point in getting worked up over it. the new head of marketing would probably just be another face, another name to add to the roster. nothing more.

he stood up and made his way over to the table, where an assortment of snacks lay—muffins, fresh fruit, coffee, all neatly arranged for the team to graze on. his stomach growled in protest, and he didn’t hesitate to grab a muffin, devouring it quickly without caring about the crumbs that fell carelessly onto his shirt.

he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, content for the moment, until a soft, confident voice cut through his haze.

“excuse me, do you mind if i grab one of those?”

baekhyun froze, fully expecting some random in marketing awaiting the new head’s arrival by grabbing a small snack.

but then he saw you.

his breath caught.

baekhyun swears he’d fallen in love at that moment.

you were everything he hadn’t anticipated—graceful, composed, with an effortless elegance that radiated from you. there was an air of quiet authority that surrounded you, impossible to ignore. you didn’t look like a typical office worker, much less someone in charge of marketing. no, you were too striking, too captivating to be confined to this place. had you ever considered modeling? baekhyun wondered, his mind running a little wild at the thought of you in front of cameras instead of spreadsheets.

you looked...different. better than anything he’d imagined. and just for a second, he felt like he was in the presence of something rare, something far beyond his typical workday.

his mouth went dry, a rush of heat flooding his face as he quickly forced a smile, trying to mask the surprise that hit him all at once. “uh, of course, go ahead,” he said, his voice a little strained as he stepped aside, maybe a little too quickly, to give you space.

you glanced at him, the corners of your mouth twitching into a subtle smirk, eyes glinting with amusement. “thanks,” you said, reaching for a muffin, your voice light and playful. “by the way, nice try with the whole ‘i’ve been here for years’ thing. thought it was kinda cute.” you paused, your gaze lifting to meet his, the challenge in your eyes sharp and clear. “but, what was it you said afterwards? wondering if i’m a 'yes-man' or a hardass?”

baekhyun blinked, completely thrown off guard. his stomach did an unexpected flip, and his heart rate picked up. how the hell had you read him so easily? it rattled him more than he was willing to admit. he hadn’t expected you to catch on so quickly, and the realization hit harder than he cared to admit. “i... uh... maybe i was,” he stammered, his confidence momentarily slipping, but then he quickly regained his composure. a grin spread across his face as he tried to steer the conversation back to safer ground. “but i’m relieved to see you’re not a hardass...at least not yet.”

you took a slow, deliberate bite of the muffin, raising an eyebrow as you held his gaze. “yeah, we’ll see,” you replied, your tone smooth and teasing. “but i’m not here to be anyone’s 'yes-man.'”

the tension in his chest melted away as a genuine laugh escaped him. there was something about the way you carried yourself that both intrigued and unsettled him. most people were easy to read, predictable—but not you. you weren’t someone he could figure out in one conversation, and for some reason, that only made him more curious.

god, you were exactly what he'd always dreamed of. seriously, his ideal.

and even now, you still felt like a dream—especially now, standing in front of him on your third day in hawaii. your fingers absently twisted through your hair as you studied your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your dress. “ugh, i hope it’s not over the top. how do i look?”

so fucking perfect, as always, is what he wanted to say.

but instead, he nudged your shoulder from where he was lounging in the office chair, the two of you waiting in the spacious meeting room before the ceo of kim corp and his partner. flashing you a teasing grin, he shrugged nonchalantly. “y’look fine, sweetheart. but, y’know, not quite as good as me.”

he couldn't help but savor the way your punch landed on his arm, the familiar warmth of your smile spreading across your face once again. it was the kind of smile that had started to feel like a constant, one he could easily picture lighting up his days if you'd let him.

“yeah, right. you can’t even tie this thing properly,” you teased, reaching over with quick fingers to fix his crooked tie. “see? much better,” you added, a proud smile tugging at your lips.

he chuckled, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as that smile of yours worked its magic, making his heart stutter. leaning in closer, a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “if you wanted to get your hands on me, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart. oh wait, you kinda did last night, didn’t you? i seem to recall someone ignoring their little pillow wall.”

“oh, shut up,” you glared at him, though the smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your annoyance. “that was so embarrassing.”

baekhyun leaned casually against the conference table, the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. he was about to open his mouth, clearly ready to say something—something that would no doubt make you roll your eyes and laugh at his audacity—but just as he parted his lips, the door to the meeting room swung open with a sudden swiftness.

you both quickly snapped to attention, rising from your chairs to greet the mogul.

in walked junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., impeccably dressed in his usual tailored suit, followed by none other than his trusted right-hand man. the air in the room immediately shifted—junmyeon exuded an air of quiet authority, while his partner’s presence was a magnetic pull that seemed to command attention effortlessly. but it wasn’t their professional demeanor that caught you off guard.

it was the moment jongin’s eyes landed on you.

a split second of recognition flickered across his face, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. he glanced between you and baekhyun, his expression turning from curiosity to disbelief. his lips parted, and the unmistakable shock was clear in his voice.

“wait... no fucking way.” jongin's eyes darted between you and baekhyun, disbelief written all over his face as the three of you stood there, mouths practically on the floor. “you two?”

your heart skipped a beat, the sudden jolt of recognition freezing you in place. baekhyun, too, went rigid, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. his expression went blank, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he, too, scrambled to make sense of the situation.

your mind raced, trying to make sense of the tangled web of connections. junmyeon, the ceo of kim corp., was already making his way toward the table, completely unaware of the tension hanging in the air. his presence was commanding, as usual, but today, his stride felt slightly out of sync with the uneasy atmosphere he was about to walk into.

as he reached the table, junmyeon paused for a split second, glancing between you and baekhyun with a raised brow. “ah,” he said with a smile, clearly oblivious to the awkwardness. “so you three know each other? well, this should be easy then.” he casually unbuttoned his blazer, the movement smooth and confident, before taking a seat across from you both. his tone was light, almost amused, as he gestured for jongin to sit beside him.

jongin, still looking between you and baekhyun with that same perplexed expression, slid into the seat next to junmyeon, his eyes never fully leaving the two of you. you could practically feel the weight of his unasked questions hanging in the air, and it only made the situation feel more surreal.

you sat frozen for a moment, trying to regain your bearings, while baekhyun seemed to settle back into his usual cool, collected self.

“so, about this merger…” junmyeon starts.

the meeting had concluded with impressive efficiency. presentations delivered, contracts laid out neatly in front of junmyeon, everything falling into place perfectly. as he stood up from the table, he gave you all a brief, reassuring smile. “i’ll just make a quick call to the board members—unfortunately, their flight got canceled back in new york, which was why they weren't able to attend today. it's too bad. they're missing out on the beautiful weather here,” he added with a light chuckle before heading for the door.

the door clicked shut behind him, and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. you felt the tension crackle almost immediately.

jongin was the first to speak, his voice low, but dripping with that signature sarcasm that could make even the most confident of people cringe. “i can't believe this,” he said, eyes flicking between you and baekhyun. his gaze lingered on you for just a second too long, the corner of his mouth lifting in disbelief. “you two are supposed to be here on a business trip AND you're also dating? really?” he scoffed, throwing his hands up in mock exasperation.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, instinctively glancing at baekhyun. he was leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable.

jongin seemed to relish in the discomfort that had settled in the air. “you both are seriously going to get fired,” he continued, a wicked grin playing at his lips. “i’m telling minseok. you’ll both be out of a job faster than you can fucking blink.”

"i don’t recall there being anything in our employee contracts that forbade us from dating our coworkers." baekhyun tensed beside you, his posture rigid, as if he were ready to swing the moment you gave the word.

jongin’s eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards, his voice dipping into something low and bitter. “back when you and i were still together,” he drawled, his gaze flickering between the two of you with mock interest, “i remember how much you complained about baekhyun. god, you really couldn’t stand him.” amusement dripped from his words as he turned his attention to baekhyun, a smirk tugging at his lips. “funny how things change, huh?”

a flash of something—was it irritation? amusement?—passed over baekhyun’s face, but he stayed silent, allowing jongin to continue.

jongin's smirk deepened as the silence stretched on. “you’d be better off with me than this ‘incompetent little shit’, as you like to put it,” he said casually, like it was no big deal. his tone, though, was as sharp as ever, and you could tell he was testing both you and baekhyun—waiting to see how far he could push.

jongin's words hung in the air like a challenge, but before you could even process your reaction, baekhyun spoke, his voice smooth but laced with a dry humor that you knew all too well.

“yeah, i'm sure she told you about all the things i did to piss her off.” he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, the playful glint never quite leaving. “y'know, the stuff that made her so mad she couldn’t even look at me without wanting to throw something at my head.”

you rolled your eyes, not at all surprised by baekhyun's tendency to casually brush off every slight, but something about his tone made it clear he wasn’t rattled by jongin's comments.

he leaned forward slightly, his gaze flicking back to you, and a smirk tugged at his lips. “honestly, it’s not like i didn’t deserve it,” he continued with an easy shrug. “she hated me back then. hell, she probably still can’t stand me now.”

you glance at baekhyun, your brows knitting together in uncertainty, unsure of where he’s going with this. the air between the three of you feels charged, a quiet tension bubbling just beneath the surface. you open your mouth, ready to steer the conversation into safer waters, to defuse whatever this is before it spirals.

but then baekhyun speaks, his voice low and laced with a cocky edge that sends a ripple through the room. “i love pressing her buttons, though,” he says, his eyes flickering with mischief as he leans back, utterly unbothered. “she’s fucking hot when she’s pissed off.”

“what the hell?” jongin starts, his eyes darting between you both in disbelief. you could practically feel the heat rising in your cheeks, already overwhelmed by the absurdity of this whole interaction. “and you? you're just... fine with this? how the hell do you deal with him when i never got the time of day for even being mildly annoying to you?”

before you can even open your mouth to respond, baekhyun’s already stepping in, his voice laced with amusement, completely unfazed by the situation. "well, we fuck it out, of course," he says casually, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "oh! did she find you that repulsive that she wouldn’t even touch you when she’s pissed? aw, couldn’t be me."

jongin’s jaw dropped slightly, his face scrunching in a mixture of irritation and disbelief. “this is... ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, clearly done with the back-and-forth.

it was as if you were saved by the bell when the door suddenly swung open, and in walked junmyeon, his bright smile lighting up the room. “alright, everything's all good with the board. let’s get to signing.” he says, his tone cheerful and confident.

jongin, however, wasn't having it. he stood up, his frustration palpable as he interjected, “junmyeon, you can’t be serious. we can’t be doing business with these scumbags!”

junmyeon’s expression tightened for a split second, his calm demeanor shifting just enough to send a sharp, pointed glance in jongin’s direction—a look that unmistakably conveyed enough. “that’s enough out of you, jongin,” he said, his voice low and steady, yet carrying an undeniable authority. the words cut through the building tension in the room, effectively silencing it. “you’ll have to excuse my business partner here. he’s obviously not in his right head. maybe still jet lagged?”

after that, everything seemed like a blur—contracts were signed, signatures hastily scribbled in all the right places, and baekhyun, ever the troublemaker, took every opportunity to make faces at jongin from behind junmyeon’s back. the tension in the room was almost palpable as you tried to keep your focus on the task at hand.

then, with a casual smile, junmyeon added, “oh, and you two must have lunch with us soon now that we’re official partners. i’m sure the board would be quite pleased with you two.” the words lingered in the air, heavy with implication, and you could practically feel jongin's discomfort radiating from across the room.

baekhyun, never one to miss a chance to stoke the fire, couldn’t resist. with that infuriatingly smug grin of his, he leaned forward, voice dripping with playful confidence. “of course, my girlfriend and i would love to,” he said just loud enough for jongin—exiled to a nearby table—to seethe in barely contained irritation. “won’t we, sweetheart?”

as the meeting wrapped up, junmyeon stood, his smile practically glowing with excitement. “i can’t think of a better way to start the new year than with this partnership,” he said, his tone warm and genuine. “thank you both for your hard work and dedication, especially during the holidays. i know this isn’t ideal timing—most people would rather be with their families right now.” he paused, glancing between you and baekhyun. “but at least you two have each other to ring in the new year tonight. that’s something, isn’t it?”

his words lingered, and you felt a strange mix of guilt and gratitude as you glanced at baekhyun, who, despite his usual antics, offered you a small, genuine smile.

and just like that, you found yourself gripping baekhyun by the lapels of his suit, half dragging, half stumbling as the two of you careened into the room. your head buzzed from the whirlwind of the night—the thrill of the merger officially sealed, the celebratory drinks at the beach bar baekhyun wouldn’t stop raving about, and the heady mix of alcohol and adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“careful now, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckled, his voice warm and teasing as you both tripped over each other’s unsteady steps, the door swinging shut behind you. “can’t go ruining our streak now. wouldn’t want to kill each other on our last day, right? we’ve been on such a roll.”

his grin was infectious, and despite your mild frustration at his antics, you couldn’t help but laugh. the way he looked at you—mischief twinkling in his eyes, his tie loosened just enough to reveal the carefree confidence he wore so well—made your head spin.

“hey, baekhyun?” your voice is soft, almost hesitant, as you glance over at him.

“yeah, sweets?” he responds casually, toeing off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket, his movements unhurried as if the weight of the evening hadn’t touched him at all.

he pauses, his back turned to you as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt. then, slowly, he turns, a lazy smirk already tugging at the corners of his lips. “what, you didn’t like it?”

“that’s not—” you huff, crossing your arms, feeling the warmth of the alcohol make your words clumsier than usual. “that’s not the point, baekhyun. i just… wanna know why.”

he takes a step closer, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he tilts his head, studying you with that maddeningly playful expression of his. “because it’s fun watching you squirm,” he says simply, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that lingers unspoken between you.

“you’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you.

he lets out a soft chuckle, stepping closer until there's barely any space between you. “maybe,” he says, his voice dipping into a low murmur. he steps in even closer, his hand sliding effortlessly to your waist, pulling you just a bit nearer. “or maybe... i just like the way it sounds. my girlfriend.”

for the first time in either of your lives, you look up at baekhyun with something entirely new in your eyes. there’s a pink tint dusting your cheeks, softening the sharpness of your usual quips, and a sparkle in your gaze that practically screams that, to you, baekhyun puts the stars in the sky.

the sight freezes him in place. his confidence, always at an all-time high, suddenly falters. your expression, so full of quiet awe, makes his chest tighten and—god help him—his dick twitch in response. he coughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact and quickly retreating behind a mask of playful bravado.

“anyway,” he blurts, voice a little higher than usual, “did you see jongin’s face after? priceless. he looked like he’d swallowed a lemon.”

his deflection is so blatant it’s almost laughable, but you let it slide. the memory of jongin’s ashen face pulls a giggle from you, light and giddy, and baekhyun leans in just a little, clearly relieved that you’ve let him off the hook—for now.

“oh my god, yes!” you laugh, your words tumbling out between breaths as you press him back against the wall to steady yourselves. you’re drunk—on the victory, on the night, and maybe, just maybe, a little on him. “jongin looked like he was going to fucking explode.”

“see, sweetheart?” baekhyun’s grin is back, his cocky edge sharpened by your laughter. his arms wrap around you, drawing you closer in what could pass for a congratulatory hug. or, at least, that’s how it starts. “told ya i’d remind him you’re with now.”

but his hands settle lower than they should, fingertips pressing into the curve of your hips in a way that feels decidedly more possessive than celebratory. neither of you say anything about it, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with an electricity that neither of you can quite bring yourselves to disrupt.

“don’t even know why you dated that fuckin’ bozo in the first place,” baekhyun drawls, his voice dripping with smugness. his lips curl into a lopsided grin, the kind that always sparks a mix of irritation and amusement in you. “he’s not even in your league.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes with dramatic flair. “oh, gee, thanks. really boosting my self-esteem here.”

“no, no. not like that,” he says, his tone shifting as he leans in. his fingers catch your chin, tilting your face up until your eyes lock onto his. and god, his gaze—dark, hungry, and laced with something unspoken—sends a tremor straight through you. “don’t ever think it’s that way, stupid. you’re too gorgeous for him. besides,” he adds with a wicked grin, “he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

the laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, a mix of disbelief and amusement. but you recover quickly, your lips curling into a sly smirk as you counter, “well, he did find it.”

his expression shifts in an instant. the playful glint in his eyes dims, replaced by something darker, sharper. his brows knit together, and his jaw ticks as he processes your words, the muscle there working overtime. it’s satisfying—watching him squirm, just a little.

“but,” you say, leaning in close, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear, your voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper, “wanna hear a secret?”

he doesn’t speak—doesn’t even breathe, it seems. he gives a short, barely-there nod, his body tensing under the weight of your words.

“he still never made me cum.”

his body stills entirely, as if your words have short-circuited him. his eyes bore into yours, searching for some sign of a joke, but all he finds is your growing smile.

“...never?” he finally breathes, the single word heavy with disbelief and something dangerously close to anger.

you lean back just enough to catch every flicker of emotion in his face, your grin widening as you deliver the final blow. “never.”

the air between you shifts, heavy and charged, as the weight of your confession lingers. you expect baekhyun to retort with his usual quick wit, some snarky comment that’ll have you rolling your eyes.

“i could,” he breathes, the words almost shaky, like he’s barely holding himself together. his breaths are ragged, his chest rising and falling faster than you’ve seen all night.

you blink, tilting your head in confusion, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his tone. “what?”

his eyes find yours, dark and unwavering, and he repeats himself, this time with a cocky edge curling his lips into that smirk you know too well. “i could made you cum, y’know.” he leans in, his voice thick with confidence and something more primal.

his words send a shiver down your spine, but there’s a part of you—a defiant, playful part—that refuses to give in so easily. raising a brow, you let a sultry smirk spread across your lips. “is that an offer?”

the reaction is instant. baekhyun’s arms loop around your waist, pulling you flush against him with a grip that’s almost too tight, the kind that borders on possessive. you could swear you hear your bones protest, but you don’t care. not when his eyes are burning into you like this, not when his lips hover so close you can feel the heat radiating off them.

“it’s a promise, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with a hunger that makes your breath catch, sending a wave of heat crashing through you. the words land heavy in the air between you, and his unwavering gaze locks with yours, the intensity in his eyes almost enough to make your knees give way.

oh, that’s all you needed to hear—everything you’d been craving. and he knows it. he sees the way your skin prickles with goosebumps, how your body reacts to him without even trying. the way your lips part just slightly, almost like an invitation, and he swears he can hear that soft, syrupy tone in your voice before you even speak it.

“prove it to me then,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your eyes, daring him to follow through.

in that moment, the fireworks erupted in the distance, their deafening roar ringing in the new year as baekhyun’s lips crashed into yours with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. it wasn’t gentle or deliberate—nothing like the soft, romantic kisses you’d imagined. this was raw, primal, as if an invisible force had pulled you together, unrelenting and inevitable. every frantic press of his lips against yours felt like an explosion, a desperate, magnetic connection that neither of you could fight.

it was unlike anything you’d ever expected from byun baekhyun—no boundaries, no rules, just the overwhelming sensation of drowning in each other, caught in a storm of heat and desperation. he kissed you like you were his air, like he couldn’t get enough, and he was willing to hold his breath forever if it meant keeping you close.

his tongue swept into your mouth, exploring every corner, every inch of your lips with frantic need, as if he’d been starved of this moment for far too long. it was as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, drowning in the intensity of it, but never daring to stop, afraid that the second he did, he’d lose you.

and then, the fireworks in the distance—their loud, overwhelming explosions—felt like the very way he kissed you: impossible to ignore. each burst in the sky mirrored the fierce, unrelenting clash of your lips, echoing with intensity and raw need. the vibrant lights, fleeting yet brilliant, lit up the dark sky, just like the way his mouth claimed yours, igniting heat in your veins.

with every pop and crackle of the fireworks, his kiss deepened, more frantic, as if he couldn’t hold back any longer. the colors above—bright, burning, alive—seemed to reflect the way he touched you, his hands pulling you closer, his tongue moving with desperation that matched the chaos of the display. it was a beautiful, reckless collision of sound and motion, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. it was just you, just him, and the fire in his kiss, mirroring the explosion of fireworks lighting up the sky.

“ah, fuck—” baekhyun hisses, his voice low and strained as he pulls back just a fraction, delicate strings of spit snapping between you. his dark eyes drink you in, glossy and dazed with your lips swollen and glistening from his. “ya don’t know how long i’ve wanted to taste those lips of yours, sweetheart. i swear.”

he kisses you again and again, as though he couldn’t possibly stop, as though stopping might shatter him. his lips, his tongue—he’s everywhere, consuming and relentless, pulling soft moans from your throat when he slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. you’re dizzy with it, drunk on the taste of him and the faint, familiar sweetness of those strawberry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room. and now? now, you’re the one he can’t get enough of, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

he pulls back slightly, his gaze capturing every soft sound that escapes your lips as his large hands knead your body through the fabric of your dress.

“ba-baekhy—” you gasp out, the words stumbling over your lips when he flips you, pressing you against the wall. his lips assault yours in a frenzy, peck after heated peck, desperate and needy. “what do you—mean—”

he groans, the sound rumbling in his chest as his lips trail down the quivering curve of your throat. “just… kiss me. damn, for someone who has such a gorgeous mouth, you sure talk too much, sweetheart.”

oh, and that was rich coming from him—though you barely get the chance to snap back at him before he’s already over it, deciding he’s done with all the teasing. if he’d even been teasing at all, that is.

in an instant, his hands are at the cold metal zipper of your dress, tugging it down with an easy motion, the fabric following with it as it pools around your waist, revealing more than you’re ready for. fuck, when did he even unclip your bra?

“you—” you try to speak, but the cool air in the room sends a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening in the chill. the sensation only intensifies when you feel his stiff arousal pressing against your side, sending a hot rush of heat to flood your core. it’s more than just words now, and you feel the undeniable truth of it, the tightening in your thighs as you unconsciously squeeze them together. you shoot him a sharp, questioning look, your breath faltering slightly. “you’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

baekhyun flashes you that familiar, mischievous grin, and his large hands move to cup your breasts, his touch heavy and possessive. “wanna know how many times i’ve pictured this, sweetheart? go ahead, ask.”

“no,” you answer quickly, though your voice trembles just slightly.

“why not?” he teases, his gaze dark and intense.

“‘cus you haven’t,” you respond, your words more a challenge than a statement.

without any warning, his hand comes down hard, a sharp slap landing on the soft curve of your ass. the sting leaves a fiery trail as his fingers linger, pressing firmly through the fabric of your dress, now hiked even higher.

“always have to talk back, don’t you?” baekhyun spits the words, his knee pressing between your legs. his grin, so innocently handsome, spreads across his face as he notices the soft moan that slips from your lips. he grinds against you purposefully, feeling your body shift under him. “why won’t ya ever, hah—believe me?”

his hand yanks your dress down, down, down, while the other forces your hips against his thick, muscled thigh. “let’s try that again,” he says with a wicked gleam in his eye, “ask me like the good girl you are.”

you swallow hard, fighting the instinct to push back, to refuse him. instead, your body betrays you, moving with desperation as you feel yourself grinding helplessly against his thigh. a whimper escapes your lips when his hand tightens around your hair, pulling your head back to force you to look at him.

you swallow hard, your voice trembling as you ask, “h-how many times have you pictured this, baekhyun?”

“lost count after your first month on the job, sweetheart,” he mutters, his voice thick with hunger, a dark, almost predatory smile curling on his lips.

you want to fight it. you want to resist, be bratty, rebellious. but your body betrays you, moving on its own, too far gone to even think clearly. the way you grind against him, needy and filthy, makes you feel like you're losing control, sinking deeper into the heat of desire that surges through you.

baekhyun watches you, his grin darkening as his hands take hold of your hips, guiding you to grind harder, faster, pushing you to drown in the overwhelming sensations. “yeah, that’s it,” he growls, his voice low and rough. “that’s my girl. a secret for a secret, right?”

his words hang in the air, heavy with intent. “remember that time i ‘slept’ through the whole meeting?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, then sinking into your lobe with a sharp bite. “nah, wasn’t sleepin’.”

his tongue traces the spot he just bit, slow and teasing, his voice dropping even lower. “it’s just... i couldn’t stop staring at that cute little skirt you wore that day. so fucking short, so tight. couldn’t bring myself to face anyone, not after i spent the entire night with my hand around my cock, thinking about all the sweet, filthy things i could do to you.”

“god, you're so fucking nasty,” you gasp, your breath coming in shallow bursts.

“yeah, i know,” baekhyun purrs, his fingers dancing over the hem of your dress, the fabric now hanging loosely at your thighs. “don't pretend you're all innocent when you wear somethin’ like this underneath. drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy. how'd ya know red’s my favorite color?"

you didn’t.

his finger glides across the lace of your red panties, feeling the dampness through the fabric. he groans, deep and satisfied. “yeah, thought so... just as dirty as i imagined.”

with his theory proven, baekhyun hooks one arm beneath your trembling thighs, lifting you effortlessly. you let out a desperate sound when he smacks your ass hard, the sting sharp and delicious. “baekhyun!” you cry, your body arching against him instinctively.

“oh, i love that. say it again,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as he steps slowly toward the edge of your shared bed. he takes his time, savoring the feeling of your drooling cunt soaking through, leaving a small dark patch on his suit. “i said, say it again.”

all it takes is a sharp slap to your ass and the honeyed drag of his name on your lips to make baekhyun splay you out like some desperate slut on the soft, silken sheets. your hands instinctively grab at his broad shoulders when he pauses, taking a moment to admire just how breathtaking you look. even better than any fantasy his mind could conjure.

“baekhyun,” you mewl, and he licks his lips, eyes glazed, entranced by the sight of you. he's unsure where to focus—on the needy, cockdrunk look in your eyes, the way your flimsy dress clings to the plushness of your thighs, or the glistening patch on your cunt, already wet and waiting. it’s all so mouthwatering. “baekhyu—ba—baek!”

the sound of your voice snaps him out of his daze. “what did you call me?” he breathes, his words low and ragged.

you bat your lashes at him innocently, feigning sweetness, “baekhy—”

“no.” he interrupts, his throat bobbing with a heavy gulp. his thumb presses against your puffy lips, dragging the same words out of you—wanting them to spill directly to his aching cock once more. “the other one. don’t play stupid with me, sweetheart. you know exactly what i’m talking about.”

oh, you do.

you feel your pussy clench, the anticipation building, and you whine out that little nickname again. “baek, please.” you add a slight quiver, just enough to make baekhyun’s lips curl into a soft “oh!” his breath catches, a low hiss escaping him as his hand instinctively moves to squeeze his bulging erection.

“oh yes, m'name sounds so fucking cute on your lips,” he groans. the sheets beneath you rustle with the movement as he urgently shifts lower, “sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna—”

RIP!

“—know if she sounds just as pretty as you do when you’re beggin’ for me.”

you're still reeling from the disarray left by your favorite dress, now reduced to a crumpled heap on the floor, the fabric torn and forgotten. a burst of irritation rises in your chest, your voice cutting through the air as you huff, “baekhyun, you're ngh—dead if you don’t replace that—”

before you can finish your threat, his hand strikes again, this time landing softly but deliberately on your inner thighs, where your skin is already heated with frustration. the edge of his fingers brushes your swollen folds, sending a shiver through you. “yeah, yeah,” he murmurs with a dark chuckle, “i'll buy you the whole fuckin' store if ya want me to.” his breath hovers over you, hot and teasing, as he leans in, his lips barely grazing your ear. “but first, ’m gonna make sure ya don’t dare call me that again.”

his words hang in the air, leaving you speechless—any retort you might have had is completely wiped from your mind as he leans in closer. his tongue, warm and daring, slides a slow, deliberate path up your slick folds, the sensation dragging a breathless whimper from your lips.

“look at that,” baekhyun murmurs, his chuckle dripping with amusement. he spreads your thighs further apart, greedily taking in the sight of your glistening arousal, shimmering under the dim light. “she’s more mouthy than you, if that’s even possible,” he adds, his voice a low taunt.

his tongue delves in once more, licking up your wetness in long, eager strokes. again and again, he teases and tastes, driving you toward the edge of madness.

“fuck—baek,” you gasp, your fingers threading through his soft hair as his tongue slips past your folds. a desperate arch rises from your spine, your body straining for more. “need you to—hngh—go faster.”

but all you get in response is his sultry, smug grin pressing against your trembling skin. his lips quirk up at the edges, his gaze locked on you with satisfaction. “so needy, sweetheart,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

“guess you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” you pout, your voice taking on a teasingly whiny edge, savoring the way the challenge flickers across baekhyun’s face. you watch as that cocky grin falls away, replaced by a look of frustration, and it’s almost too easy. “should i go next door and take jongin up on that offer?”

the words hang between you, sharp and goading, and you can practically see the shift in him—the way it twists his insides. before you can even take another breath, he’s yanking your legs apart, his face buried back between your thighs, his hot breath ghosting over your wet skin.

he’s relentless. his tongue slides up your throbbing slit, slow and deliberate, before it moves again, and again—up and down, teasing your sensitive folds with a rhythm that has you gasping in response. each stroke sends shivers racing through your body, but it’s the next move that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“f-fuck, oh baek-” you squeal when he suddenly pushes past that tight, resisting ring, his tongue plunging deep into you without hesitation, making your back arch off the bed. you hadn’t even had a chance to brace for it, the sudden stretch catching you off guard, leaving you gasping for air. “how are you in so deep—”

but baekhyun doesn’t answer. not with words, anyway. instead, his thumb glides up to your clit, pressing with slow, deliberate pressure. he circles it in methodical strokes, matching the frantic rhythm of his tongue, which buries itself deeper into your swollen walls, pulling more desperate sounds from your throat.

he’s messy—sloppy with the way your juices spill past his knuckles, dripping down his wrist, forming a glossy sheen that coats your thighs and the sheets beneath you. the cadence of his movements mirrors the hunger in his body, his relentless need to fuck you with his mouth the way he wishes he could with his cock.

you gasp, the sensation of his tongue sweeping up your clit sending a sharp jolt of pleasure running through you. it’s too much—too good—and before you can recover, he’s back at it, attacking that spot deep inside you, each stroke more determined than the last.

“f-fuck, s’too good,” you whimper, your hands clutching at the sheets as your body trembles beneath his. “fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is so—ngh—so good at this.”

a husky rasp of laughter escapes baekhyun’s throat, and before you can even react, he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm, his grip firm and unyielding. “don’t ya dare run away now,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with lust. “you’re so cute when you’re like this, sweetheart. not done with you yet.”

the vibrations of his voice send a shockwave through you, dragging a fevered moan from your lips. “baek! baek! baek!” it spills out of you, louder with each crash of his soft tongue against your most sensitive spots. his tongue moves with precision, swirling over your clit—harder at the tip, softer at the curve—each flick making you writhe in desperate pleasure.

“yeah—yeah, yeah, yeah,” he groans, his words punctuated by the wet sounds of his tongue and your tight walls. “say my name like that.” his voice hisses with fervor, his tongue pushing deeper, straining against the way you’re squeezing him so tight it’s almost too much. every movement, every flick of his tongue, becomes a battle, but baekhyun’s determination is unwavering. it doesn’t matter if his fingers are cramping or his tongue is growing tired—he’s relentless. “louder.”

“b-baek!” you gasp, your body trembling under him, but the need for more has your hips grinding desperately against him.

“no, no.” his voice drops into a growl, and before you can process it, something cool and glossy hits your cunt in a harsh glob. you flinch, but baekhyun’s thumb is already pressing the slickness in, mixing it with the mess below. the obscene squelches fill the room, and your cheeks burn as your ears ring with the sound. “hear this, sweetheart?” he taunts, his gaze dark and focused on you, savoring the way your body reacts. “she’s louder than you.”

your eyes lock with his as he’s buried deep between your legs, his favorite position. the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his touch, it all sends you spiraling further into desire.

“my girl can be loud f’me, right?” he pulls back slightly, only to slam his tongue back in with a ferocity that makes your body shake. “say my name, sweetheart. say it loud so the whole fuckin’ island hears.”

“baek! fuckfuckfuck—’m close,” it's the last coherent thing you can manage to moan before everything inside you unravels. wave after wave of filthy pleasure crashes over you, so intense it leaves you breathless. your hands grip his hair tighter, using it to anchor yourself as you rock your hips, grinding down deeper, desperate for more. each flick of his tongue sends jolts of electricity through you, stars exploding behind your eyelids, making your body tremble uncontrollably.

baekhyun, utterly satisfied, falls silent, letting you take control as you ride his face through your high. you're completely lost in the sensation, dragging your slick, messy pussy over his tongue, over his mouth—again and again. each movement is a mixture of urgency and surrender, your body writhing as the pleasure pulses through you, until there's nothing left but the overwhelming heat of it all.

“baek,” you murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from the way his breath hitches at the mere sound of your voice. his body trembles, and you feel a rush of power course through you. “your turn.”

getting rid of baekhyun’s pants feels like an eternity, each moment stretching, tantalizingly slow. you’re gasping for air when he finally rids himself of his dress pants—along with those boxers, soaked with precum and clinging to his skin like a sin. the slick trail he leaves down his thighs, glistening and sticky, only makes your pulse spike.

and if you thought baekhyun was beautiful before, you realize in this moment, he’s nothing short of a masterpiece—his body a perfect blend of smooth muscle and raw need, carved with such sinful allure that you’re almost overwhelmed.

you can’t resist the temptation to wrap your palm around his throbbing length, feeling the pulse beneath your fingers as he jerks against your touch, a slick sheen of precum coating your hand. and your mind wanders, wondering just how he'd taste too—how it would feel to have all of him.

“hold on right there, my dirty girl,” baekhyun groans, his voice strained and desperate as he gently tilts your head, his lips pressing soft, heated kisses to yours. “as much as—fuck—you're squeezing me so tight, as much as this has been everything i dreamed of since that office ice cream party… i know i’m gonna cum the second you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” his lips trail to your lower lip, sucking gently, possessively. “and you’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

you smirk, a playful glint in your eyes as you tease him, “not gonna let you live down that ice cream party, either, baek.”

his devilish smile flickers before he pulls you closer, steadying your hips with his hands as he pulls you into his lap. he spreads your legs wide, positioning you over his weeping tip, the heat of him already seeping into your skin. “oh, fuck off,” he mutters, voice thick with lust.

you hiss as you feel his warm breath against your sensitive pussy lips, the anticipation making you ache for more. “fuck you,” you retort, but it’s weak, shaky.

“no, sweetheart,” baekhyun chuckles darkly, his powerful thighs flexing as he plants his feet on the mattress, his body tense with anticipation. “i’m fucking you.”

and then, before you can even process the warning, he pushes—just the head of his cock, but it’s enough to make your body jerk with the force of it. the blunt, needy pressure of him fills you, and you gasp, barely able to contain the overwhelming sensation as he breaches you with a slow, relentless thrust.

he groans, his eyes struggling to roll back, unable to look away from the obscene way your swollen pussy lips stretch to take him in. each inch sinks deeper, your walls opening to welcome him, slick and needy. when you reach the tight resistance at your entrance, baekhyun’s breath hitches, his body twitching as he fights the urge to lose himself completely.

“fuuuck, just look at you,” he rasps, his voice a deep, guttural growl that has your walls clenching around him even tighter. the sound of his words sends a ripple through your body, making you mold even more perfectly to his shape. baekhyun throws his head back, a tortured groan escaping him as his balls tighten with every harsh slap of his hips against your ass. “shit, shit, shit—how that bastard had you... all to himself, and didn’t make this pretty pussy come every day? i’ll never understand.”

he pulls you down roughly, one hand locking at the back of your neck, tightening his grip. “so, why don’t we... rub it in his ugly face?”

the thought sends a wave of heat coursing through you. your hips stutter, grinding down to meet baekhyun’s punishing rhythm, your body arching into his with a desperate need that makes you ache for more. you can’t get enough, your movements driven by a hunger to feel him deeper, harder, completely consuming you.

his fingers, still lingering at your cunt, shift to tease your pulsing, sensitive nub, circling it with agonizing slowness. he plays with your clit between two fingers, a teasing pressure building that has you squirming beneath him. “can you hear how loud this pussy is?” he breathes, his voice rough, dripping with desire. “bet he can hear it too.”

and it’s true. the wet smacks of skin meeting skin are growing louder, messier, as the rhythm of baekhyun’s pounding cock becomes a maddening staccato. each thrust sends ripples through you, the squelching sounds of his movements amplifying the rawness of the moment.

but you refuse to be compliant, not yet. the familiar, buzzing heat of your climax starts to rise, teetering on the edge, but you want to break him just a little bit more. “nah, i don’t think he can,” you retort, a challenge in your voice.

“oh, you’re gonna fuckin’ regret that, sweets.”

baekhyun’s eyes darken, and you barely have time to register the shift before he’s using his strength to flip you, your back hitting the soaked sheets with a soft thud. he throws your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself with ease to plunge into you in a brutal, relentless mating press. he’s folding you into the new angle, and the change sends a sharp jolt of pleasure through you.

the angle shifts just enough for him to kiss your g-spot with each powerful thrust, the pressure bruising, marking you with every inch of him. it’s impossible to focus on anything else as he drills into you, his cock reaching deeper, harder, until he’s branding his name onto your sweet spots, pushing against your cervix with a force that’s unforgettable. he’s determined you won’t forget this, determined to leave his mark, so you can’t—won’t—forget.

“baek—” you squeal as his movements speed up, each thrust hitting you harder. you struggle to get the words out, your voice trembling with need, “baek, i’m close—”

“louder,” he grins, the command dripping with mischief. his hips are starting to burn with effort, his muscles tiring from the relentless pace, but he’s not about to let up—there’s still teasing to be done. “still can’t hear you.”

your voice is shot, barely a whisper as the pressure builds inside you, “baek, ’m gonna cum—”

“louder or ’m not gonna let ya,” he challenges, his breath ragged and unsteady.

“baek! fuck, fuck, fuck, ’m cumming!” you cry out, and before those desperate moans even leave your lips, it hits him—your walls clamp down on him, tight and slick, gripping him like a vice. your heels dig deeper into his shoulder, your nails raking down his pale skin in frantic, red-hot trails as you tighten around him, "'m cumming—ngh—"

and fuck, each slam of his hips is like electricity shooting up your spine, his rhythm unrelenting as he forces you through your orgasm, dragging it out until you feel like you might go insane from the intensity of it.

“god—fuck, you’re so—” baekhyun groans, the words dying on his lips as the pleasure takes over. it’s all he can manage before he’s cumming, thick ropes of his seed flooding into you with a brutal, consuming force. “so, so, so perfect f’me…”

with both hands lacing above your head, he pulls you impossibly deeper, grinding into you with each pulse, filling you to the brim. his body is out of control, his thrusts relentless, as he pumps wave after wave of his cum into you, like he’s trying to empty himself completely.

he shudders at the overspill, the excess of his release dripping from the corners of your sweet pussy, leaving a creamy ring around his tired base. too much, yet he continues thrusting mindlessly, the movements growing sloppier as he catches your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “at least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, right?”

you smile into the kiss, your hips moving languidly against his, “didn’t do—hngh—the neighbors any favors, either.”

“it’s jongin, who fuckin’ cares? ‘pathetic dick’, my ass.” baekhyun’s grin widens, loving the sight of your sweet smile, the way your eyes light up just because of him. his voice softens, drawing out the words with a lazy smirk, “y’know... since we’ve been locked up in this hotel for the past few days and we’ve got most of tomorrow, how about we actually do something fun before we leave?”

you nod eagerly, your legs tightening around his waist, and for a moment, everything blurs into a haze of heat and desire. shit, this might just be heaven. “definitely need a break after that contract. we deserve some fun after the fuckin’ week we’ve had.”

his forehead presses against yours, sticky with sweat, his breath coming out in shallow pants. “‘fun’ is my middle name, baby.” his voice is unsteady, like he’s drunk off the way you’re looking at him, that familiar glare of yours knocking the air from his lungs. he chuckles, affection dripping from every word. “and we can use the company card too. minseok never even checks—”

you cut him off with a warning tone. “baek…” your brow arches, a familiar, irritated flicker of annoyance flashing across your face—the one he knows all too well. “don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into minseok’s card. he’ll kill you if he finds out. and that’s if i don’t kill you first.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“…baek…” you press, voice tinged with disbelief.

he hesitates, then, with a sly grin creeping up his face, mutters, “…is this a bad time to tell you i booked us that boat tour for tomorrow with it too?”

you stare at him, utterly deadpan. “yeah, you’re definitely getting pushed into the ocean tomorrow.”

ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ happy new year my cute lil babies!!! i had the best time writing this lmaooooo especially all the baekhyun x reader dialogue. after my last fic i kinda wished i'd made the male rivalry part longer, so this one’s extra full of it lol <3333 as always let me know what you think :') hehe love you all n i hope 2025 brings u nothing but good vibes. can’t wait to keep writing for u guys this year, mwah love youuuuu all!

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#been listening to lana on repeat since it dropped hence the inspo for the title of this lmao #baekhyun smut #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #x reader #exo x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #baekhyun #lisawrites #dividers are by @anitalenia <3

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