#i honestly don't know if i should make this into an au or not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

estellan0vella · 1 day ago

Text

Fallen Into Place: L.F Lee Felix x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 18.2K

CW: Mentions of physical abuse by a parental figure, Substance Use, Implied and discussed sexual relationships, Discussion of a parent’s death due to cancer General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

Seungmin's room at the Alpha Phi house is a chaotic mix of minimalist black furniture and books shoved in every conceivable corner. A sleek desk is shoved up against the wall, covered in half-empty energy drink cans and a complicated tangle of wires that probably belong to the computer he built himself. You're perched on the edge of his unmade bed, the France trip booklet spread across your lap. The glossy pages feel weirdly fancy for a school trip, like they're trying too hard to make this sound like the experience of a lifetime.

You're not convinced.

"Okay, but seriously," you say, flipping to the section about Paris accommodations. "If that freckled idiot is going, I'm not."

Seungmin snorts without looking up from his copy of the same booklet. He's slouched in his desk chair, one foot resting on the desk, balancing precariously on the edge of his chair like the picture of nonchalant chaos. His black jeans are ripped in just the right places, his vest hanging open over a plain black tank that shows off the lightning-strike tattoos on his right arm.

"Felix? Oh, he's definitely going," he says, his voice dripping with mock cheerfulness. "He's a bakery and confectionary minor. You think he's missing a trip to the fucking homeland of croissants?"

You groan and flop backwards onto the bed dramatically, the booklet smacking against your chest. "Of course, he is. God, his whole 'everything is sunshine and rainbows' bullshit is going to ruin the entire trip."

Seungmin rolls his eyes, spinning his chair lazily to face you. "I mean, to be fair, they did offer it to you at a discount since you're French and can actually help translate."

"Yeah, but is the sacrifice of my sanity worth it?" you counter, sitting back up and waving the booklet around for emphasis. "I don't know if I can deal with that guy in close quarters for twelve days. Twelve days, Seungmin!"

"Listen," Seungmin says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. His multiple piercings catch the light as he smirks at you. "If I were you, I'd say yes to the trip. You're literally getting it cheaper. You love pastry-making, and honestly, you're not going to find a better opportunity than this."

You huff, crossing your legs and leaning back against the headboard. Your black miniskirt rides up slightly, and you adjust it out of habit. The lace-up stiletto boots on your feet gleam under the overhead light as you cross one ankle over the other.

"They're talking about opening it up to other students to fill the slots," you say, flipping another page. "You and Minho should sign up."

Seungmin shrugs. "I might."

Before you can press him further, Minho's voice comes from the doorway, dripping with his usual dry humour. "Oh, hello, miserable one and two."

You glance up to see Minho leaning against the doorframe, looking like he just walked out of a punk-rock fashion show. His black cargo pants hang low on his hips, the silver chain around his neck catching the light. His sleeveless compression top reveals toned arms, covered in intricate tattoos, and his piercings glint as he smirks at you both.

"Hello, miserable three," you reply, waving lazily at him with the booklet.

Minho strides into the room like he owns it, flopping onto the bed beside you. He leans over to glance at the booklet in your hands, his cherry-red hair falling into his eyes. "What's this?"

"France trip," you answer. "Twelve days. Paris, Nice, Bordeaux. Pastry-making bullshit."

Minho raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "And you're debating whether to go because Felix might annoy you to death?"

"Correct," you deadpan.

"You could fuck some hot French guys, though," Minho points out, stretching his arms over his head lazily. His septum ring gleams as he smirks down at you.

You hum thoughtfully. "You might be right."

Seungmin snickers from his chair. "Maybe you and Felix should fight it out."

Minho shakes his head quickly. "Would not advise. That dude did taekwondo for, like, twelve fucking years. He'd wreck your shit. Maybe just fuck it out instead."

The booklet in your hand immediately becomes a weapon, and you start whacking Minho with it as he cackles and shields himself. "You're the fucking worst!" you yell between laughs, unable to keep a straight face.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" Minho yells, though his laughter doesn't stop. "God, you're so violent for someone in a miniskirt."

"You deserved it!" you retort, still laughing as you toss the booklet onto the bed. "Don't start shit you can't finish, asshole."

Minho grins, unbothered. "Fair. Anyway, I signed up as soon as they opened the trip to all students."

You blink. "You what?"

"Yeah," Minho says casually. "I want some French dick in my mouth, or I want my dick in some French ass. Either way, I'm winning."

Seungmin chokes on his laughter, and you bury your face in your hands. "I hate you both so much."

"No, you don't," Seungmin says, spinning lazily in his chair. "You'd be lost without us."

Minho smirks. "And you'd be bored as hell."

You sigh dramatically but don't argue. They're right.

The cool night air wraps around the Alpha Phi garden, carrying the faint scent of charcoal and sizzling meat from the grill. The frat house's pool glows a soft blue, its reflection dancing on the faces of Seungmin, Minho, and you as the three of you linger at the edge of the garden, cigarettes in hand. The garden's string lights flicker gently, creating an almost peaceful atmosphere if not for the faint bursts of laughter from Felix, Jisung, and Changbin near the grill, where Chan works his magic.

Seungmin exhales a puff of smoke, his arm resting on the back of a patio chair. "Is a peaceful fucking cigarette too much to ask for in this goddamn house?"

Minho, leaning casually against the pool railing with his cigarette dangling between his fingers, scoffs. "In this house? Yes." His smirk deepens as he takes a slow drag, blowing the smoke toward the sky. "Peaceful doesn't exist when those dumbasses are around."

You roll your eyes, flicking ash from the tip of your cigarette. "It's like they can't laugh at a normal fucking volume. Always gotta be like hyenas on crack."

Seungmin hums in agreement. "Honestly, you'd think they'd be tired after practice today. Changbin looked like he was dying after suicides."

"Didn't stop him from inhaling half the kitchen afterwards," Minho adds, chuckling. "Guy's an actual vacuum cleaner."

Before you can respond, Felix's bright voice cuts through the air, closer now. "What's this? The Pessimist Club holding a meeting?"

You don't even have to look to know it's him. That fucking Australian accent and overly chipper tone are like nails on a chalkboard. You glance over your shoulder to see Felix, Changbin, and Jisung sauntering toward your group, beers in hand and grins plastered across their faces.

"Great," you mutter, stubbing your cigarette out on the edge of a nearby ashtray. "Just what I needed."

Felix grins, his freckles catching the light as he looks at you. "Aw, don't look so excited to see us, Cruella."

"Twilight fucking Sparkle," you shoot back without hesitation, crossing your arms. His eyes narrow, but the grin doesn't leave his face. The nickname makes Changbin nearly choke on his beer as Jisung cackles like a madman.

"Oh, come on," Felix says, feigning offence. "That's not even fucking accurate. I don't sparkle."

"Yet you've got the same overly positive bullshit energy," you deadpan. "Don't deny it."

Felix groans dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "You wound me. Seriously."

Minho snorts. "You walked into that one, Lix."

"Thank you, Minho," you say, tipping an imaginary hat toward him. "At least someone gets it."

Felix narrows his eyes at you, stepping closer until he's in your personal space. "You're just mad because I'm nice and people actually like me."

"Yeah, nice and painfully fucking irritating. It's like you're allergic to negativity," you retort, holding his gaze without flinching.

"And you're allergic to anything remotely fun," Felix snaps back, his grin now replaced with a slight frown. "God forbid someone has a good time around you."

"God forbid you shut the fuck up for five minutes," you counter, smirking slightly.

"Alright, alright," Changbin interrupts, stepping between the two of you with his hands up. "Jesus Christ, you two need a fucking referee."

"Or a muzzle," Jisung adds with a snicker, earning a middle finger from you.

Felix glares at you one last time, but there's no real malice behind it. Just pure, unfiltered irritation. He takes a long sip of his beer, and you watch with a smirk as an idea forms. When you finish your cigarette, you flick the stub neatly into his drink, the small plunk unmistakable.

Felix sputters. "What the fuck, Cruella?!"

You pat his cheek sweetly, giving him an innocent smile. "Oops. My bad." And with that, you breeze past him, heading toward the grill where Chan's flipping burgers with the precision of a chef in a five-star restaurant.

"Y/N," Chan greets warmly, draping an arm around your shoulders as you approach. "You and Lix can't just get along for once?"

You glance up at him, unimpressed. "I'd rather slam my tongue in a car door. Repeatedly."

Chan snorts, his laughter shaking the arm around your shoulders as he uses his free hand to flip a burger. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And yet, you love me," you reply, leaning into his side. His familiar warmth is oddly comforting after a long, annoying day.

He hums, ruffling your two-toned hair with a grin. "You doing okay? Last time we talked, your dad—"

"It's fine," you cut him off quickly, your tone sharper than you intend. You force a small smile as you snuggle closer to him. "Seriously, it's fine."

Chan pauses, clearly unconvinced but not pushing. "You know if it's not, you can talk to me, right?"

"I know," you murmur, letting your cheek rest against his shoulder. The sounds of laughter and bickering fade into the background as the scent of grilled meat fills the air.

Chan flips another burger before glancing down at you. "You ever need to crash here-"

"Yeah, I know," you interrupt, your voice softer now. "Can I stay tonight?"

"Of course," he replies without hesitation, his arm tightening around you briefly. "You don't even have to ask."

You smile faintly, letting the comfort of his presence calm the restless energy buzzing in your chest. As annoying as the Alpha Phi house can be, moments like this make it bearable. Even if it means dealing with Felix's Twilight Sparkle bullshit for another day.

The Alpha Phi living room is a chaotic mess of overstuffed furniture, mismatched throw pillows, and random items that scream college frat house. The TV is on, playing some action movie that no one is really watching. You're crammed into the loveseat between Seungmin and Minho, your legs crossed and your black miniskirt riding just slightly higher than you intended. Not that you care. The snake tattoo on your left arm glints under the warm light as you sip on an iced Americano from the café down the street.

Chan is sprawled on the couch with Jeongin, who's flipping through some fashion magazine and pointing out ridiculous outfits. Hyunjin sits cross-legged on the floor with his sketchbook, his black hair falling into his face as his pencil scratches against the page. Changbin is perched on the arm of the couch, scrolling through his phone.

The peace, if you can call this chaos peaceful, is shattered when Felix and Jisung walk in mid-conversation.

"Honestly," Felix says, his accent sharper than usual, "I can't imagine anything more horrifying."

Without missing a beat, you dig into your bag, pull out a small pocket mirror, and hold it up to his face. "There you go."

The room bursts into laughter as Felix glares at you, his freckled face reddening slightly. "You're such a fucking menace, Cruella."

Leaning back against the loveseat, you smirk and take another sip of your Americano. "And you make it so damn easy, Twilight Sparkle. Don't dish it if you can't take it."

Minho chuckles beside you, elbowing you lightly. "She's got a point, Lix. You walked right into that one."

Felix opens his mouth to retort, but Jisung cuts him off with a grin. "He wasn't even talking about himself, you know. Felix was telling me about some guy he knows who went on a shitty date."

"Oh yeah?" Seungmin asks, raising an eyebrow. "What happened? She ghosted him or some shit?"

"Nah, worse," Jisung replies, his grin widening. "Apparently, she spent the whole time talking about her ex and then made him pay for everything. Like, didn't even pretend to offer."

"Fucking brutal," Minho mutters, shaking his head. "But hey, Lix, what about you? Thinking about dipping your toes into the dating pool? Maybe get some Tinder dates lined up? Or, I don't know, snag a hot French girlfriend on the trip?"

Felix hesitates for a second too long, and you seize the opportunity.

"Yeah," you say, your tone dripping with mock sympathy. "Because his last girlfriend deflated when he nibbled on her ear."

The laughter that erupts is immediate and overwhelming. Changbin is the first to lose it, throwing his head back and falling off the arm of the couch entirely. Hyunjin tries to keep his composure, but his shoulders shake as he hides his laughter behind his sketchbook.

"Oh my fucking god," Changbin wheezes from the floor, clutching his stomach. "I'm gonna die."

Jisung is biting his lip so hard it looks like it might bleed, but even he can't hold it together when Felix starts spluttering, his face as red as a tomato.

"You're such an asshole!" Felix snaps, his voice higher-pitched than usual. "It wasn't even funny!"

"Oh, come on, Twilight Sparkle," you say, setting your cup down on the side table with a dramatic sigh. "We all know your girlfriends have been inflatable. It's okay."

Minho immediately raises his hand, and you slap it in a victorious high-five as Felix groans loudly. The room explodes into laughter again, Jisung practically collapsing onto the couch as he gasps for air.

"Stop fucking calling me that!" Felix yells, his voice cracking slightly. "It's not even clever!"

"You're just mad because it fits," you reply smugly, leaning back and crossing your legs.

Jeongin, who's been quietly observing, finally speaks up with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Lix, if you do get a French girlfriend, maybe Cruella can help you translate."

"Fuck off, Jeongin," Felix snaps, shooting him a glare. "Like I need her help."

"Oh, you definitely do," Minho cuts in, smirking. "Your French is trash. What was it you said last time? Je suis un croissant? Dude, you called yourself a fucking pastry."

Felix throws his hands up in frustration as the laughter intensifies. "Why are all of you ganging up on me?!"

"Because you're easy to mess with," you say with a shrug, picking up your iced Americano again. "And honestly, it's fun watching you get all flustered."

Felix glares at you again, muttering something under his breath that you can't quite catch. You don't care, though. Riling him up is one of your favourite pastimes, and the fact that he keeps rising to the bait only makes it better.

"Anyway," Changbin says, wiping tears from his eyes as he finally sits back up, "you guys are fucking ridiculous."

"And yet, you hang out with us," Hyunjin points out, his voice still tinged with amusement as he goes back to his sketchbook.

"Yeah, because you're entertaining," Changbin retorts. "It's like watching a live comedy show."

Felix slumps onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, still glaring at you from across the room. You meet his gaze with a sweet, innocent smile, and he groans, running a hand through his hair.

"Fucking Cruella," he mutters under his breath, and you can't help but grin.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lecture hall is buzzing with conversation as students file in, taking their seats around tables scattered with booklets and itinerary sheets. The Paris trip meeting is supposed to be straightforward, but nothing about being stuck in a room with overexcited classmates screams "calm." You're running late but you don't care. The thought of spending hours cooped up going over the fine details of travel plans is already giving you a headache.

You click your way into the room, the sharp staccato of your boots echoing against the tile floor. Your black leather miniskirt clings just right, and your dark red turtleneck contrasts perfectly with your half-black, half-white hair, messily clipped up in a way that somehow still looks flawless.

"Late as always," Felix mutters from just behind you. He's trailing after you, also late, because of course he is.

"Look who's talking, Twilight Sparkle," you snap back, throwing him a glance over your shoulder. "What, too busy spreading sunshine and glitter to get here on time?"

"Funny, coming from someone who probably spent twenty minutes perfecting her eyeliner just to intimidate the rest of us," Felix retorts, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Well, it's working," you say, smirking back. "You look terrified."

Felix opens his mouth to reply, but the professor at the front of the room clears her throat, gesturing for the two of you to find seats. The only available ones are at a table already occupied by Minho, Seungmin, and Jisung. Great.

"Perfect," Felix mutters as he drops into the chair beside you. "Now I get front-row seats to Cruella's tragic personality."

"And I get to sit next to an overgrown My Little Pony," you reply sweetly, settling into your chair and crossing your legs.

Minho, Seungmin, and Jisung exchange amused glances as you and Felix settle in. Minho leans back in his chair, his arms crossed and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

The professor begins walking through the itinerary, her voice droning on about flights, hotel check-ins, and scheduled activities. You try to focus, but Felix shifting in his seat beside you keeps pulling your attention.

"So," Felix whispers, leaning slightly closer. "What are you planning to do on your free days? Suck out the souls of innocent Parisians?"

"Yeah," you reply without missing a beat, your voice equally low. "So they don't have to suffer through your sunshine bullshit. It's a mercy soul-snatching, really."

Felix snorts, unable to hide his amusement. "At least you're self-aware."

"Besides," you add, smirking as you turn your head toward him, "at least their souls are being snatched by someone attractive."

Felix chokes on a laugh, quickly covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound. Minho and Jisung exchange wide-eyed looks, while Seungmin just shakes his head, clearly holding back his own laughter.

"Wow," Felix mutters after a moment, still grinning. "You really think highly of yourself, don't you?"

"Someone has to," you reply, tilting your head. "You're all too busy worshipping the ground you walk on."

Felix shakes his head, still smiling. He won't admit it, but he actually enjoys these exchanges. You're sharp, quick-witted, and, unfortunately for his sanity, ridiculously attractive. He had a massive crush on you during your first year of college and never quite managed to shake it. Bickering with you is the only way he can interact with you without embarrassing himself, so he keeps it up, even if it means getting roasted half the time.

"Will the two of you shut up?" Seungmin finally hisses, his tone half-annoyed, half-amused. "I'm trying to actually listen to this shit."

"You're just mad because we're more entertaining than the professor," you say, leaning back in your chair and crossing your arms.

"She's not wrong," Jisung mutters, scribbling aimlessly on the corner of his itinerary. "You two are better than Netflix."

The professor glances in your direction, and you immediately sit up straighter, pretending to focus. Felix bites back another laugh, and you elbow him sharply.

The meeting drags on, but eventually, the professor wraps up her presentation with a reminder about packing lists and travel documents. Just as everyone begins gathering their things to leave, she calls your name.

"Y/N, can I speak with you for a moment?"

Minho and Seungmin exchange a glance before sitting back down, clearly deciding to wait for you. You roll your eyes but nod, making your way to the front of the room where the professor is organizing her papers.

"I just have a quick question about the forms I need to fill out," she says, looking up. "Will I be putting that you're using your French passport or your Korean one?"

"French," you reply easily. "It's just easier to travel to the EU with an EU passport."

The professor nods, scribbling something down. "Got it. Thanks for confirming."

"No problem," you say, turning to head back toward Minho and Seungmin, who are lounging at your table with matching grins.

"So," Minho says as you approach, "French passport, huh? Fancy."

"Shut up," you mutter, grabbing your bag. "Let's go before Felix decides to keep following me."

Seungmin chuckles as the three of you make your way out of the room, leaving behind the chaos of the meeting and the lingering scent of Felix's cologne.

The BBQ place is packed, the smell of sizzling meat and spices wafting through the air as waiters bustle around, carrying trays piled high with food. You, Minho, and Seungmin are crammed into a small booth in the corner, the table already cluttered with banchan and beer bottles. The grill in the centre of the table is heating up, and Minho is poking at the coals with the tongs.

You sip your soju, leaning back against the booth and glancing between your two best friends. "You know something?"

Seungmin barely looks up as he flips a piece of pork belly. "What?"

"I am a fucking catch," you declare, gesturing dramatically with your glass. "I have a nice ass, tits to die for, and flawless eyeliner. But for some reason, no one approaches me. Wanna know why? It's because of you two."

Seungmin raises an eyebrow while Minho smirks, clearly enjoying where this is going. "Us?" Minho asks, his tone mocking. "How is this our fault?"

You set your glass down and point at them accusingly. "You're like my tattooed, pierced bodyguards. Guys take one look at me sandwiched between you two and immediately assume I have the emotional baggage of a Bond villain."

Minho snorts, finally looking up from the grill. "Have you considered," he says with a smirk, "that maybe it's your personality?"

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him. "Personality means absolutely nothing for a one-night stand, Min. You know that."

Seungmin hums thoughtfully, propping his chin on his hand. "Honestly, we're doing you a favour. We're keeping you from being the subject of a fucking Netflix true crime documentary. Your taste in men is horrendous."

"Excuse me?" you say, voice pitching higher as you glare at him. "I think my taste is fine, thank you very much."

Minho barks out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, fuck off. Your taste in men is like a shopping cart full of bad decisions. Honestly, we're saving ourselves hours of police interviews. Do you know how many shady hookups we've already intervened in?"

"Uh, fuck you," you shoot back, kicking his shin under the table. Minho barely flinches, grinning at you like the devil he is.

Seungmin leans back in his seat, his lips twitching. "On national television, we'd be like, 'Yeah, we all fucking saw this coming.' Any shady guy with tattoos and an authority kink has a one-way ticket to you."

You sputter, choking on your drink as Minho doubles over laughing. "An authority kink? You're such an asshole, Seungmin."

"I mean, he's not wrong," Minho says, smirking. "It's the daddy issues."

You swat his arm, but you're laughing despite yourself. "Fuck you, Minho."

"Love you too, sweetheart," he replies, smirking as he pops a piece of grilled meat into his mouth.

Seungmin leans forward, grinning wickedly. "You know we wouldn't hold back in any press interviews if you ever disappeared, right?"

Minho nods sagely, pointing at you with his chopsticks. "We'd tell them everything. Your embarrassing drunken escapades, your horror hookup stories, the whole fucking list."

You narrow your eyes at them, though you can't fight the smile tugging at your lips. "You two are the fucking worst."

Seungmin grins. "We'd tell them about that time you climbed out of the Theta Tau frat house window, and Chan had to catch you like a goddamn princess."

Minho cackles, nearly dropping the tongs. "Oh, or the time Hyunjin pretended to be your fiancé, bursting into your apartment and pretending to catch you cheating just to get that creep to leave."

"That was a good one," Seungmin says, nodding. "Or remember the time we had to dress up in all black with sunglasses and pretend to be your private bodyguards? Changbin pinned the guy down like a linebacker."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "In my defence, Changbin only pinned him after he stuck his hand up my skirt."

"Oh yeah," Minho says, his voice darkening slightly, "and then we- how do I put this nicely?- beat the shit out of him."

You peek at him through your fingers, trying not to laugh. "Nicely, huh?"

Seungmin smirks, tilting his head. "It's true. That guy looked like he got hit by a freight train after Changbin was done."

The three of you dissolve into laughter, the sound loud and unfiltered, cutting through the noise of the BBQ place. Despite their teasing, you know Minho and Seungmin would throw hands for you any day—and that thought, as annoying as it is, makes your chest feel a little lighter. Even if they are tattooed, pierced, overly sarcastic bodyguards.

Jisung's room is a disaster, as usual. Clothes are strewn across the floor, empty takeout containers balance precariously on his desk, and the faint smell of weed lingers in the air. Felix is sprawled on the beanbag chair next to the bed, a controller in hand as they play some chaotic multiplayer game on Jisung's beat-up TV. The screen is a mess of flashing colours, and the sound of explosions fills the room.

Jisung leans back on the bed, one leg dangling off the side, controller in one hand, and a bong resting on the nightstand within reach. "Honestly," he says, his voice casual but curious, "what is with you and Y/N?"

Felix groans, his freckled face scrunching up as he mashes the buttons on his controller. "She fucking hates me for being positive. I don't like her for being miserable. It's that simple."

"Uh-huh," Jisung hums, unimpressed. He pauses the game to grab the bong, taking a long, slow rip before passing it to Felix. Smoke curls lazily in the air, blending with the already hazy atmosphere.

Felix takes the bong, shaking his head. "I'm serious. She's all doom and gloom, and I'm just trying to exist without getting roasted every five fucking seconds."

"You do bring it on yourself, Twilight Sparkle," Jisung says, grinning as Felix glares at him through the haze of smoke.

"Don't you fucking start with that," Felix mutters, exhaling a cloud and passing the bong back. "She's got the whole Cruella de Vil aesthetic going, and somehow I'm the one getting all the shit."

Jisung snickers, setting the bong aside for now. "Okay, but like, you've got to admit, you still have that crush on her from last year."

Felix freezes, the controller slipping slightly in his hands. "What?" he says, his voice slightly higher than usual. "That's fucking ridiculous."

Jisung raises an eyebrow, sitting up slightly. "Oh, is it? You spent all of first year following her around like a lost puppy. Don't think I didn't notice."

Felix huffs, leaning back in the beanbag chair and staring at the screen. "Yeah, well, that's over. She's- Whatever. She's a pain in my ass now."

"Sure," Jisung says, clearly unconvinced. He grabs the bong again but doesn't take another rip just yet. "But, you know, any clothes we take on this France trip are gonna have to be deep-cleaned and sealed in our suitcases. Gotta make sure the drug dogs don't sniff this shit out at the airport."

Felix snorts, grateful for the subject change. "Yeah, no kidding. Last thing we need is to get fucking detained in customs because you smell like a walking dispensary."

Jisung smirks, leaning back on his elbows. "You're deflecting, by the way. You still like her."

"And what about your big, fat crush on Minho?" Felix shoots back, smirking now that the spotlight isn't on him.

Jisung gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. "Bitch, I am proud of my big, fat crush on Minho. Why do you think I signed up for the France trip? Six days in the city of love. I'm going to woo that tattooed sexy man with pastry and my bomb dick game."

Felix bursts out laughing, doubling over in his seat. "Your what?"

"My bomb dick game," Jisung repeats confidently, sitting up straight. "You think I can't pull? I'm gonna have Minho eating out of the palm of my hand. Or, you know, somewhere else."

Felix shakes his head, still laughing as he wipes tears from his eyes. "There's no fucking way, Sung. Minho would make you his subby bottom bitch in, like, point five seconds."

Jisung grins, unfazed. "I mean, honestly? I wouldn't even be mad about it."

Felix groans, leaning back in the beanbag again, a wide smile still on his face. "You're fucking hopeless."

"And you're deflecting again," Jisung points out, wagging a finger at him. "Admit it. You still think Y/N is hot."

Felix doesn't respond immediately, focusing on the game instead. But the faint flush creeping up his neck gives him away.

Jisung smirks, taking another rip of the bong. "Thought so."

---------------------------------------------------------

Incheon International Airport is a chaotic mix of noise, announcements, and the overwhelming scent of overpriced coffee. Everyone going on the France trip has already checked in their suitcases, leaving the group gathered near security. You glance around, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. Your green leather miniskirt catches the light, and your black lace-trimmed camisole barely offers any protection from the chill of the air conditioning.

Minho stands next to you, scrolling through his phone while Seungmin argues with a vending machine that just ate his money. The three of you are clearly overdressed compared to the sea of tourists in sweatpants and hoodies. But when have you ever given a shit about blending in?

"Let's get this over with," you mutter, stepping toward the metal detector.

The moment you step through, the machine beeps loudly, its accusatory tone cutting through the background noise. A security worker waves you over to the side. You groan as Minho and Seungmin snicker, stepping through after you and immediately setting it off themselves. Of course.

"Piercings," Minho says simply, shrugging as the male security worker gestures for him to step aside too. "This is gonna take a while."

The three of you stand in a line, waiting as the security team gathers their wands and gloves. A female worker approaches you first, holding up a handheld metal detector.

"Hold still," she says, her tone polite but firm. She waves the wand over your face, and it immediately beeps.

"Eyebrow piercing," you say, pointing to it before poking your tongue out. "Tongue piercing too. Oh, and the lip ring."

The woman nods, moving the detector down. It beeps again as she waves it over your chest, and you sigh dramatically. "Nipple piercings," you explain, "and probably the underwire in my bra."

The worker's expression remains neutral as she begins patting you down, her hands brushing over your sides and chest. You glance over at Minho, who's already standing with his arms out like a bored mannequin.

When the detector beeps over his crotch, Minho smirks. "That piercing was brutal. Prince Albert."

You snort, unable to hold back your laugh, while Seungmin chokes on air beside you. "We held his hands when he got it," Seungmin says, grinning. "He cried."

"I did not cry," Minho shoots back, but he's clearly lying, and you both know it.

"You definitely cried," you say, shaking your head. "I was there."

Seungmin steps forward as the worker moves to him, holding his arms out. The wand goes off near his chest, and he glances down. "Nipple piercings here too," he says casually.

"Shocker," you mutter, rolling your eyes as the female worker finishes with you and waves you forward.

You step to the side, adjusting your bag and scanning the room for the others. Your eyes land on Felix, who's being waved over to another security lane. The worker waves the detector over him, and you can't help but notice when it beeps over his crotch.

Minho leans in close, his voice low but filled with amusement. "No fucking way. Felix has a Prince Albert? Did not have that on my 2024 bingo card."

You bite back a laugh, glancing at Felix, who looks mildly annoyed but unfazed as the security worker pats him down. "Twilight Sparkle with a secret edge," you mutter. "Who knew?"

Before Minho can reply, Jisung gets pulled to another station, and the detector immediately goes off over his chest and, moments later, over his crotch. Minho arches an eyebrow, clearly fighting a grin.

"Interesting," Minho says, drawing out the word.

You smirk, nudging him with your elbow. "Just admit you like the guy already. We all know it. You two are set for the perfect friends-to-lovers romance arc."

Seungmin, still watching the scene unfold, nods in agreement. "Seriously. Everyone knows. You're like one heartfelt confession away from being that couple, the guy who looks like a dom and is a sub and the guy who looks like a sub but is a dom."

Minho glares at you both, but the tips of his ears are turning red. "Oh, fuck off. You're both subby as hell too."

"Yeah," Seungmin says, shrugging as he crosses his arms. "But we're not ashamed of it."

"Exactly," you add, grinning. "We own it. Unlike you, Mr. Denial."

Minho groans, running a hand through his hair as Jisung finally gets cleared and starts making his way back toward the group. "You two are the fucking worst."

"And yet, you love us," Seungmin says, smirking as he slings an arm over Minho's shoulders.

You watch as Felix joins the group again, his expression unreadable as he adjusts his jacket. He catches your gaze for a moment, and you offer him a saccharine smile. "How's it feel to know we're both walking red flags, Twilight Sparkle?"

Felix smirks, his freckled cheeks faintly flushed. "Better than being an open invitation for disaster, Cruella."

The tension crackles as the group begins moving toward the boarding gate, bickering and bantering all the way. It's going to be a long trip.

The plane is already filling up as you make your way down the aisle, your carry-on bag slung over your shoulder. You glance at the numbers on the overhead compartments, searching for your seat. When you finally find it, you stop dead in your tracks.

You're sandwiched between Felix and Jisung.

"Fucking perfect," you mutter under your breath, adjusting your bag before reluctantly squeezing past Felix, who's already lounging in his seat. Jisung flashes you a bright smile as you settle into the middle seat.

"Hi, Ji," you say, offering him a small smile despite your mood.

"Hey," he says back, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he pulls his headphones off one ear. "Ready for the long-ass flight?"

"Not anymore," you reply, side-eyeing Felix as you drop into the seat. You barely have time to get comfortable before Felix leans over, grinning at you.

"Where's my greeting, Cruella?" he asks, his tone dripping with mock offence.

You sigh dramatically, leaning back in your seat. "If you wait till we're thirty thousand feet in the air, open the door to the plane, and jump out, you'll find it on the fall down."

Jisung bursts out laughing, his head tilting back against the headrest. Felix glares at you, though the corner of his mouth twitches like he's fighting a smile.

"Charming as ever," Felix mutters, shifting in his seat.

Behind you, Minho and Seungmin are settling into their own seats. Unfortunately for them, they've been joined by Jihyo, a girl who's infamous at Alpha Phi parties for clinging to the two of them like a magnet. She's already leaning over, batting her eyelashes as she touches Seungmin's tattooed arm.

"Wow, Seungmin," she says in a voice that's somehow both high-pitched and grating. "This tattoo is so detailed. Did it hurt?"

Seungmin gives her a tight-lipped smile. "Not as much as this conversation."

Minho snickers, pretending to cough into his hand. "Yeah, Seungmin's great at enduring pain. You know, like a champ."

Jihyo doesn't seem to catch the jab, her hand now moving to Minho's arm. "Your tattoos are so cool too, Minho. Did you design them yourself?"

Minho smirks, leaning back in his seat. "Nope, just got them to scare off straight girls. Works most of the time."

You stifle a giggle, glancing back over your shoulder to see Jihyo frowning slightly, trying to figure out if she's being insulted. Minho meets your eyes and winks, earning a quiet laugh from Seungmin.

"God, how long is this flight?" Minho mutters under his breath, though his voice is loud enough for you to hear.

Felix, ever the boy scout, chimes in. "Fourteen hours, fifty-five minutes. Non-stop from Korea to Paris."

Minho groans dramatically, leaning his head back against the seat. "Kill me now."

Meanwhile, Jihyo continues draping herself over Seungmin, her fingers brushing over the lightning-strike tattoo on his arm. Seungmin finally snaps, pulling his arm away. "Look, Jihyo, I get it, you think tattoos are hot. But can you maybe not treat me like a goddamn exhibit?"

Minho bursts out laughing, and you have to bite your lip to keep from joining in.

Turning back around, you reach into your bag and pull out your copy of Madame Bovary, the French edition. As you flip it open, Jisung glances at you curiously.

"Wait," he says, his head tilting slightly. "You can read French?"

"Uh, yeah," you reply, lifting the book slightly so he can see the cover. "And speak it. Dual nationality perks."

"Dual nationality?" Jisung echoes, clearly intrigued.

You nod, digging into your bag again and pulling out your French passport, flipping it open briefly to show him. "My dad's Korean, but my mom was French. EU citizenship is convenient."

Jisung whistles low. "Damn, I'm sticking with you this trip."

"Not if he's hanging around," you reply, jerking your thumb toward Felix.

Jisung hesitates for a moment before sighing dramatically. "Sorry, Felix."

Felix gapes at him, looking genuinely betrayed. "What the fuck, Ji? You're abandoning me for Cruella?"

Jisung shrugs with a sheepish grin. "She's got the dual citizenship card, man. It's survival instincts."

You smirk, leaning back in your seat as Felix mutters something under his breath.

As Jihyo continues her not-so-subtle attempts at flirting with Minho, he leans over and whispers to you, "Seriously, though, how long is this flight again?"

"Fourteen hours, fifty-five minutes," Felix says again from beside you, not looking up from his phone.

Minho groans louder this time. "I swear to god, if she keeps this up, I'm jumping out of the emergency exit."

"Take me with you," Seungmin mutters, glaring at Jihyo as she giggles at something she clearly thinks is charming.

Deciding you all need a distraction, you reach into your carry-on and pull out a bottle of duty-free vodka. Minho and Seungmin immediately perk up.

"Oh, hell yeah," Jisung says, grinning as you crack open the bottle and take a long sip before passing it to him.

You dig around in your bag again and pull out a juice box, handing it to Felix with a sweet smile. "Here, sunshine. Don't want you to get too wild."

Felix takes the juice box, raising an eyebrow. "Joke's on you, this is my favourite."

You blink in surprise as he sticks the straw in and takes a sip, smirking at you the whole time.

"Well," Minho says, opening his own bottle of soju, "this is gonna be a very interesting fourteen hours."

Seungmin snorts, leaning over and clinking his bottle against yours as the plane finally begins taxiing down the runway.

Almost fifteen gruelling hours later, the plane finally lands in Paris. The seatbelt sign dings off, and the passengers begin shuffling to grab their bags. You're sandwiched in the middle seat between Jisung and Felix, both of whom look equally wrecked from the long flight.

Jisung stretches, cracking his back as he unbuckles his seatbelt. "Fucking finally. My ass is numb."

"Could've been worse," Felix says from the window seat, his voice scratchy from hours of dry aeroplane air. "At least we didn't get stuck near a screaming baby."

You groan, leaning your head back against the seat. "No, we just got stuck next to you, which is worse."

Felix smirks, unbothered as he leans down to grab his bag from under the seat. "Good morning to you too, Cruella. Sleep well?"

"Keep talking," you mutter, adjusting your camisole as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "I'll tell the nearest worker you're wanted internationally. A few hours locked up ought to cool you down."

Jisung snorts so loudly it earns him a glare from a passenger across the aisle. "Please do it. I'll film the whole thing."

"Shut the fuck up, Ji," Felix mutters, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as he files into the aisle behind Jisung.

Once the group manages to shuffle off the plane and through the long stretch of security, you all make it to the baggage claim. The belts are spinning lazily, and you lean against one of the metal rails, waiting for your suitcase to appear.

Felix, of course, can't resist. "Don't lose your suitcase, Cruella. I'd hate to see you terrorize the French airport staff."

"Keep it up," you snap, not even looking at him, "and I will report you having a brick of coke or something. Bet they'd love to lock you in the back room for a few hours while we explore Paris without you."

Minho and Seungmin, standing nearby, both snort into their hands while Jisung straight-up laughs, earning another glare from Felix.

"You're all assholes," Felix mutters, but there's no heat in his tone.

Once everyone has their bags, you make your way toward the exit. The group pauses by the bus pickup area, where a coach is supposed to collect everyone. However, the wait is longer than expected, and the sun is already warming the Parisian streets.

"There's a café near the exit," Jisung suggests, nodding toward the small glass building visible through the crowd. "Let's grab something while we wait."

The group agrees, and Jisung practically drags Felix along as you all head toward the café. The warm, rich scent of coffee greets you as you step inside, and you immediately take charge at the counter.

"Okay," you say, glancing over your shoulder at the guys. "What's everyone having?"

"Iced Americano," Minho and Seungmin chime in simultaneously.

"Same," Jisung says, leaning against the counter as he nudges Felix. "What about you, Twilight Sparkle?"

Felix glares at him, then shrugs. "Tea."

The cashier waits patiently as you translate their orders into French, your pronunciation smooth and confident. You smile politely at the barista, who flushes slightly as he takes the payment.

As you step to the side to wait for the drinks, Felix mutters, "Really?"

You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

He nods toward the barista, who's glancing at you every few seconds as he works. "That."

"Oh, come on, man," Jisung says, grinning as he nudges Felix. "Everyone thinks she's hot. Just those two," he gestures toward Minho and Seungmin, "scare everyone else off."

Felix huffs, crossing his arms. "Except you. You're the only one dumb enough to stick around because you're too busy jerking it to Minho every night."

Jisung grins shamelessly, shrugging. "Guilty. I'm not denying shit."

Behind him, Minho's grin grows as he exchanges an excited glance with Seungmin, nudging him lightly with his elbow. Seungmin shakes his head, clearly trying not to laugh.

When the drinks are ready, you grab the cups from the counter, handing them out one by one. You hold Felix's tea in your hand, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. Before passing it to him, you lean down and run your tongue over the lid's mouthpiece, licking it slowly.

"Here," you say, holding it out to him with an innocent smile.

Felix rolls his eyes but takes the cup anyway, muttering, "Not even fazed."

As he takes a sip, Jisung whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, "Indirect kiss!"

Without missing a beat, both you and Felix turn to him and kick him in the shins simultaneously.

"Ow! Fucking hell!" Jisung yelps, hopping on one foot while the rest of you laugh.

Minho takes a sip of his Americano, grinning. "This is gonna be a long trip, huh?"

"Fourteen more days of this," Seungmin mutters, shaking his head. But even he's smiling as the group heads back toward the coach pickup, drinks in hand and the promise of chaos already brewing.

The coach finally pulls into the parking lot of a modest motel on the outskirts of Paris. The building is squat and nondescript, with faded paint and a flickering neon sign that does little to inspire confidence. As the group files off the bus, Minho stops dead in his tracks, his eyes scanning the building with an unimpressed glare.

"Absolutely fucking not," he says, turning to you. "You're not staying in a single room here. This is where people get murdered."

You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. "Oh, so now you're my knight in shining armour?"

"No," Minho replies, deadpan. "But I do have a vested interest in not having to fly back home to attend your funeral."

Seungmin, standing behind you both, looks over the list of room assignments. "I'll pair up with someone else," he says, waving toward a random guy he recognizes from the flight. "That way you two can share. No one's getting stabbed on my watch."

You sigh, knowing better than to argue with them when they're in one of their overprotective moods. "Fine. But if Minho snores, I'm leaving him for dead."

"Bold of you to assume I'd protect you if the murderer shows up first," Minho quips, grabbing your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

The two of you make your way to your assigned room, unlocking the door to find a small, slightly dingy double room. The bed is pushed against the wall, the sheets a shade of white that screams "washed too many times," and there's a single chair by the window. You pause in the doorway, your eyes narrowing at the faint outline of what looks suspiciously like chalk on the carpet.

"Is that... the remains of a fucking chalk outline?" you ask, stepping into the room cautiously.

Minho peers over your shoulder, his expression unimpressed. "The college really cut corners with this place, huh?"

"Check the windows," you say, dropping your bag on the chair. "Make sure they're bolted."

Minho nods, walking over to the small window and giving it a firm shake. "Bolted. Barely, but it's something."

You sigh, flopping onto the double bed. The mattress creaks loudly, but you've slept on worse during past adventures with Minho. He joins you a moment later, lying on his back beside you. The two of you stare at the cracked ceiling, the faint hum of traffic filtering in from outside.

"This place is depressing," you mutter, your hands resting on your stomach.

"Very," Minho agrees. "But at least we've got each other."

"Aw," you say, smirking. "Didn't know you were so sentimental."

Minho chuckles, turning his head slightly to look at you. "So, let's cut the shit. Do you have a crush on Felix?"

You splutter, sitting up so fast you nearly lose your balance. "What the fuck, Minho?"

He's laughing now, full-on cackling as you grab the nearest pillow and whack him with it. "I'm just asking! You two bicker like an old married couple!"

"Because he's a pain in my ass, not because I like him!" you snap, hitting him again as he shields his face with his arms, still laughing.

"Okay, okay!" Minho wheezes, tears in his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. "Just checking!"

You throw the pillow back onto the bed, flopping down dramatically beside him. "You're the fucking worst, Minho."

"And yet, you love me," he says smugly, turning his head to grin at you.

"Not right now, I don't," you grumble, staring at the ceiling again.

The two of you lie there in silence for a moment before Minho speaks up again. "But seriously, if Felix tries to pull some 'Twilight Sparkle' bullshit this trip, I'll handle it for you."

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, unable to stop the small smile creeping onto your face. "Thanks, Minho."

"Anytime, Cruella," he replies, smirking.

The pastry-making class is set in a pristine kitchen with wide marble countertops, rows of stainless steel appliances, and a faint smell of butter and sugar in the air. Each workstation is stocked with bowls, utensils, and pre-measured ingredients. Everyone's already donned aprons, black for you, red for Minho and Seungmin, and an obnoxious pastel blue for Felix across the room.

You're thriving. Your dough is already chilling in the fridge, perfect in texture and consistency, because of course it is. Felix, annoyingly, has also finished, his smug grin flashing every time you accidentally catch his eye across the room. You both know you're equally talented in this department, though neither of you will ever admit it aloud.

Minho and Seungmin, however, are another story.

"I swear to fucking god," Minho mutters, staring down at the gloopy mess in his bowl. "This dough is cursed. It's the pastry's fault. I'm perfect, so it can't be me that did anything wrong."

You burst out laughing, leaning over to check his dough. "You're perfect, huh? Well, perfect Minho, your dough looks like it's been chewed up and spit out by a dog."

Seungmin snorts, his own dough looking only marginally better as he tries to roll it out on the counter. "Honestly, it's a good thing you don't have an ego or anything, Min."

"Fuck off," Minho retorts, throwing a pinch of flour at him before looking at you. "Alright, pastry goddess, fix this mess."

You giggle, grabbing his bowl and starting to work the dough. "Okay, first of all, you overmixed it. Second, you didn't measure the butter properly."

"Details," Minho says dismissively, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter. "I'm a big-picture kind of guy."

"Yeah, well, the big picture here is that you suck at this," you reply, smirking as you knead the dough back into something usable. "But don't worry, that's why I'm here."

Across the room, Felix is helping Jisung with his dough, his tone patient but clearly amused. "Ji, you have to fold it gently. You're not trying to wrestle it into submission."

"I am being gentle!" Jisung protests, his hands pressing down hard on the dough. "It's just not cooperating."

Felix sighs, stepping closer and showing him the correct technique. "Like this. See? It's all about finesse."

"Fucking show-off," you mutter under your breath, glancing at them briefly before turning back to Minho's dough.

"You jealous, Cruella?" Minho teases, his lips twitching into a grin. "Looks like your little nemesis is winning Teacher of the Year over there."

You roll your eyes, throwing a bit of flour at him. "Shut up and focus, perfect one. Your dough still needs fixing."

Seungmin groans as his own dough tears under his rolling pin. "Why is this so fucking hard? I don't understand. It's just flour and butter!"

"Clearly, it's beyond your skill level," you tease, stepping over to help him. "Okay, stop manhandling it. Just let me do it before you make it worse."

"God, you're bossy," Seungmin mutters, but he steps back to let you work.

"Yeah, and you love it," you reply, not missing a beat.

Felix, who's clearly been eavesdropping, calls out from his side of the room. "Hey, Cruella, how's it going over there? Need me to come save the day?"

You glance at him with an exaggerated fake smile. "Oh, Twilight Sparkle, I didn't realize you were auditioning for France's Next Top Pastry Chef. Should I start clapping now, or wait till you mess up?"

Felix grins, his freckles scrunching up as he leans on the counter. "Keep talking. Just remember, my dough's already in the fridge. Can't mess up perfection."

"Perfection?" you echo, scoffing. "You're such a smug little shit."

"And yet," Felix says, smirking, "you're still watching me."

You flip him off, earning a laugh from Jisung, who's now trying to scrape sticky dough off his hands. Minho watches the exchange with an amused smirk, clearly filing it away for later teasing.

Once you've finally managed to salvage Minho and Seungmin's doughs, you guide them to wrap it up and get it into the fridge.

"See? Not that hard when you listen to me," you say, wiping your hands on your apron.

"Yeah, yeah," Minho mutters, glaring at his dough like it personally wronged him. "Next time, I'm sabotaging yours just to feel better."

"Like you could," you reply with a grin, bumping his shoulder as you walk past.

The class instructor announces the dough will chill for a while before the next step, giving everyone a chance to clean up. As you rinse your hands in the sink, you catch Felix's eyes across the room. He raises an eyebrow, and you can't help but smirk back.

The restaurant is dimly lit, cosy, and packed with the sound of clinking glasses and soft conversation in rapid French. The guys are seated at a round table near the back, a small candle flickering in the centre. Jisung glances at the empty seat next to Minho, frowning as he stabs at a piece of bread on his plate.

"Hey," he says, looking up. "Where's Y/N?"

Minho doesn't even glance up from the menu as he flips through it. "She had somewhere to go tonight."

"Where?" Jisung presses, leaning his elbows on the table.

Seungmin sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "The Père Lachaise Cemetery."

Jisung pauses, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth. "Why the fuck is she at a cemetery?"

Seungmin exchanges a quick glance with Minho before replying, his tone quieter. "Visiting her mother's grave."

Jisung immediately sets the bread down, his expression softening. "Oh. Fuck. I didn't know."

"Yeah, well," Minho says, setting the menu down and flagging a waiter over. "She doesn't talk about it much, so don't mention it when she gets back."

Jisung nods solemnly, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the breadbasket. "Is that why she said her mom was French?"

Minho nods, turning to the waiter as they approach. "Can we get five bottles of wine? One for each of us and one for Y/N when she gets here."

"Five bottles?" Felix echoes, raising an eyebrow. "That's excessive even for us."

Minho shoots him a look. "You met her, right? She's going to need it."

Felix smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Fair point."

The wine arrives a few moments later, and they start pouring drinks while chatting about the class earlier that day. Jisung keeps the conversation light, cracking jokes about his disastrous attempt at dough-making, while Seungmin mocks him for not even being able to handle flour properly. Felix mostly listens, sipping his wine and occasionally chiming in with sarcastic remarks.

Just as Minho raises his glass for a toast, the door to the restaurant swings open, and you step inside. The candlelight catches the sharp angles of your face, your makeup still perfectly intact despite the long day. You're wearing a sleek black miniskirt and a long-sleeved turtleneck under a long black coat. A beret sits tilted on your head, and your lace-up stiletto boots click softly against the floor as you make your way over.

Without a word, you plop into the seat next to Minho and grab the unopened bottle of wine in front of you. "Good timing," Minho says, pouring you a glass.

You fill it to the brim, taking a long sip before leaning back in your chair. "Well, don't everyone look so excited to see me."

"Glad you're back, Cruella," Felix says, his smirk faint but present. "Thought maybe you'd gotten lost in the catacombs or something."

You glance at him, unimpressed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Twilight Sparkle." Then you raise your glass in mock toast. "Sorry to disappoint. Still alive and kicking."

Jisung, who's been noticeably quiet, finally speaks up. "We saved you a bottle," he says, nodding toward the wine in front of you.

"Good," you reply, downing half the glass. "You're not entirely useless after all."

The group falls into easy conversation, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. Minho keeps the wine flowing, and by the time the first bottle is finished, even Felix looks like he's having a good time.

As the night wears on, you catch Minho watching you out of the corner of his eye. When you finally meet his gaze, he simply smiles softly and raises his glass.

You nod back, grateful for his silent understanding. Because if there's one thing Minho knows, it's when to say nothing at all.

It's late, and the motel room is dark except for the faint glow of the streetlight creeping in through the thin curtains. You're sprawled across the king-size bed, scrolling aimlessly on your phone while trying to ignore the questionable creaks and groans coming from the walls. Dressed in black hotpants and a tank top, you've already resigned yourself to the lacklustre accommodations and are just trying to wind down.

A sharp knock at the door interrupts your quiet. Frowning, you toss your phone onto the bed and pad over to the door, pulling it open without bothering to check who it is. Standing there is Felix, looking thoroughly annoyed, his freckled face slightly flushed, either from lingering embarrassment or leftover wine.

"Minho and Jisung are fucking in my room," he announces flatly, his voice tinged with disbelief. "All that wine we drank apparently worked like a goddamn aphrodisiac for them. I walked into my room and saw Jisung balls deep in Minho's ass."

You blink at him, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh. Good for them."

"Good for them?!" Felix repeats, exasperated. "No, not good for them! My fucking room!"

"Yeah, well," you say with a shrug, "you're not staying here. Sleep in the hallway."

Felix stares at you, clearly unimpressed. "You have twin beds, right?"

"Nope," you reply, leaning your head against the doorframe. "One king-size bed. Minho and I have been sharing it. Hence why you cannot crash here unless you want to sleep in the bath or on the floor, because I am not sharing the bed with you."

Felix raises an eyebrow. "You're that against sharing a bed with me?"

"Absolutely," you say, deadpan. "But I'll be generous. I'll give you a pillow and blanket for whichever you choose. Bath or floor?"

Felix sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Floor, I guess."

You smirk, stepping back and gesturing for him to come inside. "Brave man. I don't think these carpets have been cleaned since the place opened, though. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Felix drops his bag near the door, eyeing the carpet with mild disgust. "This place is one step away from being condemned. How the hell did the college book it?"

"Budget cuts," you say, tossing a pillow and blanket onto the floor. "Here. Make yourself at home, Twilight Sparkle."

"Don't start," Felix mutters, crouching down to arrange the makeshift bed. As he stretches out on the floor, he props his head up on one arm, looking up at you. "I misjudged Minho, by the way. I thought he was a top."

You laugh, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "Minho? Pfft. No. He's a subby man, just like Seungmin."

Felix grins, his freckled face lighting up with mischief. "And you?"

Your reflexes kick in before your brain does. You grab the pillow you'd been leaning on and hurl it at him, hitting him square in the face. Felix laughs, the sound rich and unrestrained, as he pulls the pillow away and smirks at you.

"Struck a nerve, huh, Cruella?" he teases.

"Shut up," you snap, though there's no real venom in your tone.

Felix chuckles, flopping onto his back on the floor. "This is going to be the longest fucking trip of my life."

"Right back at you," you mutter, turning off the bedside lamp and pulling the covers up.

As you settle in for the night, the sound of Felix softly muttering about the state of the carpet almost makes you laugh again. Almost.

It's been an hour since Felix set up camp on the carpeted floor, and he's still shifting around. Every few seconds, there's a rustle of fabric or the faint sound of him exhaling in frustration. You've tried ignoring it, burying your head under the pillow, but it's fucking impossible to tune out.

"Jesus Christ," you groan, sitting up in bed and glaring down at him. "Can you stop moving for five fucking seconds?"

"I'm trying," Felix mumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow. He shifts again, this time with more aggression, as if that'll help. "This floor feels like sandpaper."

You let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing your temples. "Fine. Fucking fine. Get in the bed. You're pissing me off with your constant fidgeting."

Felix freezes for a moment before scrambling to his feet, grabbing the pillow and blanket as he clambers into the bed beside you. The mattress dips under his weight, and he immediately wiggles around like a contented cat finding the perfect spot.

"This is so much better," he says with a satisfied hum, settling under the blanket. He stretches out with an exaggerated sigh, clearly enjoying himself.

"You tell no one we shared a bed," you warn, pointing a finger at him. "If you do, I will shave you bald."

Felix hums, clearly unfazed by your threat as he nestles into the pillow. "Sure, Cruella, whatever you say."

You roll your eyes, lying back down and turning to face away from him. For a few blissful moments, there's silence. But of course, Felix can't help himself.

"You know," he says softly, his tone casual but tinged with amusement, "I don't believe you hate me as much as you say you do."

You splutter, spinning around to face him. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Felix laughs, the sound low and warm, as he props himself up on one elbow to look at you. "Exactly what I said. I think you're full of shit. If you really hated me, you wouldn't let me sleep here."

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Instead, you're left blinking rapidly, your brain short-circuiting as you try to come up with a rebuttal. Felix's grin only widens as he watches you struggle.

"You're so fucking smug," you finally manage to say, your voice lacking its usual bite.

"And you're fun to mess with," Felix counters, leaning back against the pillow with a self-satisfied smirk.

You glare at him, but before you can retaliate, he speaks again.

"You know," he says, his tone softer now, "you're really pretty with no makeup on."

That shuts you up immediately. Your eyes widen, and you stare at him, completely caught off guard. For once, you can't think of a single sarcastic remark.

Felix watches your reaction, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reaches out, pushing a strand of hair out of your face with gentle fingers. His hand lingers for a moment before he pulls back.

"Night, Cruella," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You're still frozen, blinking up at him as he settles back into the bed, turning onto his side with a faint smile on his face. The room falls into silence again, but your thoughts are anything but quiet.

For the first time in a long time, Felix has left you completely speechless.

The morning light filters through the thin motel curtains as the door to your room swings open with an unceremonious bang. Minho strides in, yawning, only to stop dead in his tracks when he sees you and Felix snuggled up in the bed. His jaw drops, and his voice echoes through the tiny room.

"What the fuck?!"

You bolt upright, startled, your hair a mess and your tank top slightly askew from sleep. Felix jerks awake beside you, his limbs flailing as he loses balance and topples off the edge of the bed with a loud thud.

"Shit!" Felix groans from the floor, rubbing his shoulder as he glares at Minho. "What the hell, Min?"

"What the hell me?" Minho snaps, his hands gesturing wildly at the scene. "What the actual fuck am I looking at?"

You groan, running a hand through your dishevelled hair. "This is your fault, you know."

"My fault?" Minho repeats, incredulous. "How the fuck is this my fault?"

Felix scrambles to his feet, his face red with both frustration and leftover embarrassment. "Because you decided to fuck Jisung in our room! What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Sleep in the hallway?"

Minho's eyebrows shoot up, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "Wait, hold up. You saw us?"

Felix points a finger at him, his tone accusatory. "Yeah, I fucking saw you! You were on all fours, getting it up the ass from Jisung!"

Minho's smirk widens, and he strikes a dramatic pose, one hand on his hip. "Did I look good?"

Felix throws his hands up in exasperation. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"My arch is amazing, right?" Minho continues, completely unbothered. "I can bend like a pretzel. Years of practice, you know."

You groan loudly, grabbing the nearest pillow and chucking it at Minho's head. "Oh my god, shut up!"

Minho catches the pillow with ease, laughing as he tosses it back onto the bed. "Excuse me for being sexy and irresistible," he says, grinning. "But at least I had a good night, right?"

Felix growls under his breath, grabbing a pen off the nightstand and throwing it at Minho, who dodges it easily. You follow up with a hairbrush, which Minho deflects with the pillow, laughing even harder.

"Okay, okay! I'm leaving!" Felix huffs, grabbing his things and stomping toward the door. He pauses in the doorway to glare at both of you. "This is fucking ridiculous." Then he slams the door behind him.

Minho flops onto the bed beside you, letting out a satisfied sigh as he stretches out. "Well, that was fun."

You roll your eyes but don't resist when he slings an arm around your shoulders. You lean into his side, the comfortable silence between you only broken by the faint sounds of the motel creaking around you.

After a few minutes, you speak up. "I think Felix flirted with me last night."

Minho freezes for a second before turning to you with wide eyes. "Oh? Do tell."

You recount the events from the previous night, the way Felix had called you pretty without makeup, how he'd pushed your hair out of your face, and how he'd smirked as he whispered goodnight. By the time you finish, Minho is staring at you with an amused grin.

"Yeah," he says, nodding slowly. "Oh shit, yeah, he was flirting with you."

You groan, dropping your face into your hands. "Great. Just fucking great."

Minho snickers, patting your back. "Hey, maybe it's not so bad. Felix is hot, you know. And he's definitely into you."

You glare at him from between your fingers. "He's Twilight Sparkle. I can't take him seriously."

Minho shrugs, clearly unbothered. "Sounds like a you problem."

"You know," you say, leaning back against the headboard, "Felix was very surprised that you were subbing for Jisung."

Minho giggles, his grin widening. "Oh, he was, was he?"

You nod, smirking now. "Yep. He couldn't believe it. Guess you really shattered his illusions."

"Jisung was the best dom I've had in a while," Minho says casually, leaning back with a dreamy expression. "You know, maybe that's what you need, a good dom to fuck all your angst away."

You groan, smacking his arm. "Shut the fuck up, Minho."

He laughs, completely unbothered. "I'm just saying! Something to think about, Cruella."

You shake your head, but a small smile tugs at your lips despite yourself. Minho, as infuriating as he is, always knows how to make you laugh. Even when the topic of conversation is the most absurd thing imaginable.

The midday sun glints off the glass pyramid of the Louvre, casting shimmering reflections across the courtyard. The group lingers outside, the chatter of tourists and the clicking of cameras forming a constant background hum. You’re dressed to kill in a black leather miniskirt, a green sleeveless halterneck top that shows off your snake tattoo, and your signature black lace-up stiletto boots. Your half-black, half-white hair catches the sunlight as you lean against one of the barriers, arms crossed, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

Felix stands a few feet away, looking equally bored. He’s dressed in black baggy cargo trousers and a grey vest top under a black zip-up hoodie, his layered chains catching the light. His hair is pushed back in a way that looks almost effortless. His expression says it all: he doesn’t want to be here.

Your eyes meet across the group, and there’s an unspoken agreement. Neither of you says a word as you slowly edge away from the crowd. Minho is too busy taking selfies with Jisung, and Seungmin is engrossed in reading the itinerary. No one notices as the two of you slip out of the courtyard and onto the streets of Paris.

Once you’re far enough away, Felix lets out a sigh of relief. "Thank fuck. I thought I was going to die of boredom back there."

You smirk, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one followed. "Yeah, standing in a crowd for hours just to stare at a painting sounds like a blast. Come on."

Felix falls into step beside you as you navigate the bustling streets of Paris. "Where are we going, Cruella? You’ve got that ‘I know everything’ look on your face."

You roll your eyes. "We’re in Paris. I lived here for twelve years. Of course, I know where we’re going. Just try to keep up."

The streets are alive with energy, from street performers juggling in the squares to couples sipping wine at sidewalk cafés. You point out landmarks as you pass, your voice casual but tinged with pride.

"That’s the Pont des Arts," you say, nodding toward the famous bridge. "Used to be covered in love locks until they removed them. Too heavy."

Felix glances at it, then back at you. "What, no romantic gestures here? Shocking."

You scoff. "Romantic? Please. The locks were just tourists trying to leave a mark."

As you walk, Felix asks occasional questions, and you find yourself answering more than you expected. Eventually, the two of you end up in the Latin Quarter, where the scent of fresh coffee and pastries wafts through the air.

"We’re stopping here," you announce, pointing at a quaint little café with outdoor seating.

Felix raises an eyebrow. "Coffee and pastries, huh? You trying to impress me with the full Parisian experience?"

"No," you reply, smirking as you head inside. "I just don’t want to deal with your whining if you get hungry."

The two of you order. Coffee for you, tea for Felix, and a platter of assorted macarons to share. Sitting at a small table outside, you take a sip of your coffee, sighing contentedly as you watch the world go by. Felix cradles his tea, taking a sip before leaning back in his chair.

"I can’t believe you’re actually being nice to me," he says, his tone teasing but curious.

"Don’t read into it," you reply, shooting him a look. "It’s nice to show my home to someone who’s never been here before. Even if it is you."

Felix snorts, shaking his head. "Thanks, Cruella. You really know how to make a guy feel special."

You smirk, popping a macaron into your mouth. "You need to try these. You think you’ve had macarons before, but you haven’t unless they’re from a café in Paris."

Felix picks up a macaron, inspecting it like it might bite him. "They’re just cookies, right?"

You scoff. "Just cookies? Oh, you poor, uncultured soul. Try it."

He takes a cautious bite, his eyes widening slightly. "Okay, that’s... actually really good."

"Told you," you say smugly, reaching for another. "We should get the platter and share. That way, you can try all the flavours."

Felix nods, already grabbing another macaron. "Fine by me. As long as you don’t hoard all the good ones."

"No promises," you reply, smirking as you take another sip of coffee.

For a moment, the two of you sit in companionable silence, sharing macarons and watching the city bustle around you. It’s oddly peaceful, and even Felix seems more relaxed than usual. As much as you hate to admit it, it’s... nice. But you’ll never tell him that.

Inside the Louvre, Minho, Jisung, and Seungmin stand in the seemingly endless queue to see the Mona Lisa. The atmosphere is a mix of hushed awe and impatient murmurs as tourists shuffle forward. Minho is leaning against the velvet rope divider, his arms crossed, while Jisung fidgets with his phone, and Seungmin reads the little exhibit signs with mild interest.

Jisung glances around suddenly, his brows furrowing. "Hold on," he says, his voice cutting through the relative quiet. "Where the fuck are Y/N and Felix?"

Minho straightens up, looking around with a frown. "Shit. Did they even come in here with us?"

Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple like the realization physically pains him. "Are you fucking serious? They were probably gone before we even walked in the door."

Jisung lets out a low whistle, smirking. "Guess they had better things to do than stare at some overrated painting."

"Yeah, like stare at each other," Minho quips, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "Seriously, though, can we talk about how obvious it is that they like each other?"

"Thank god you said it," Jisung replies, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "It's been driving me fucking insane. Like, the constant bickering? The tension? They're one good argument away from ripping each other's clothes off."

Seungmin nods, his expression surprisingly serious. "It's fucking ridiculous. The way they look at each other when they think no one's paying attention? They might as well have a neon sign that says 'we're into each other.'"

Minho chuckles, nudging Seungmin. "Alright, let's make this interesting. Twenty euros says they fuck the night before we leave Paris."

Jisung grins, holding out a hand to shake on it. "You're on. But my money's on Bordeaux. Twenty euros they fuck there."

Seungmin snorts, shaking his head at both of them. "You're both wrong. Twenty says it happens in Nice. They'll let the tension build up for a few more days, then wham bam thank you ma'am."

Minho leans back against the divider, his grin widening. "So we've got Paris, Bordeaux, and Nice. This is going to be hilarious when one of us wins."

Jisung laughs, looking far too pleased with himself. "I can't wait to rub it in your faces when it happens in Bordeaux. They'll be all emotional and shit after drinking wine at some vineyard. Classic setup."

Seungmin rolls his eyes but smirks. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that. Let's just hope they don't get themselves into too much trouble before then."

Minho chuckles, his gaze drifting toward the exit. "Trouble? With those two? Never."

The Abbey Bookshop in the Latin Quarter is a cosy labyrinth of old wooden shelves stacked to the ceiling with books in every language imaginable. The smell of aged paper and ink fills the air, mixed with a faint hint of coffee from the little café section near the entrance. As soon as you and Felix step inside, the world outside seems to disappear, replaced by the quiet hum of literary charm.

"This is heaven," you mutter, glancing around at the organized chaos of books. Your sharp eyeliner and bold outfit contrast with the soft, almost whimsical atmosphere of the shop, but you don’t seem to care. Felix trails behind you, his black cargo pants swishing softly as he looks around, his layered chains glinting in the dim light.

"Looks small from the outside," Felix says, his voice hushed. "But this place is huge."

"It’s a maze," you reply, already heading for the French literature section. "Try not to get lost."

Felix snorts, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets as he follows. "Guess I’m the pack mule today, huh?"

"You catch on quick, Twilight Sparkle," you say with a smirk, grabbing a copy of Le Petit Prince off the shelf and handing it to him. Felix takes it without complaint, holding it against his chest as you weave through the narrow aisles, scanning the spines of the books.

Next comes Le Comte de Monte-Cristo, then Notre-Dame de Paris, followed by La Princesse de Clèves, La Peste, Les Misérables, and finally Les Trois Mousquetaires. Each one lands in Felix’s growing pile.

"You’re going to buy all of these?" Felix asks, peering around the stack of books in his arms. "Pretty sure this is half the French canon."

"They’re better in the original language," you say simply, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as you pull another book off the shelf to examine its cover. "You should learn French, though. You’d get it."

"Really?" Felix asks, tilting his head as he adjusts the stack of books in his arms. "Think I’d be any good at it?"

You hum, your lips quirking into a half-smile. "Maybe. If you don’t butcher the accent."

Felix grins. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cruella."

You roll your eyes, glancing down at your phone as it vibrates in your pocket. The screen lights up with a familiar contact: Appa. Your expression hardens slightly, and without a second thought, you swipe up to put your phone on Do Not Disturb, silencing the call.

Felix catches the shift in your demeanour and raises an eyebrow. "You can grab that if you want."

"Believe me," you say, your tone clipped, "I do not want to grab that call."

He doesn’t push, just nods and adjusts the books in his arms again. "Alright. What else can we do after this?"

You tilt your head, considering your options as you run a finger along the spines of the books on the shelf. "We could go to the Jardin du Luxembourg. It’s like a ten-minute walk from here."

Felix hums, nodding thoughtfully. "Sounds nice. Or?"

"Or," you say, turning to face him fully, "we can hop on a train and see the Palace of Versailles."

Felix looks genuinely torn, his freckled face scrunching slightly as he thinks. "Both sound good. Guess it depends on how long you want to carry me around as your personal assistant."

You smirk, grabbing one last book to add to his pile before making your way to the counter. "You’re surprisingly good at your job. Maybe I’ll keep you around."

As you pay for the books, Felix leans against the counter, watching you with a faint smile. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s something soft in his gaze, something he’d never admit out loud. When you’re finished, you hand him a few bags of books and gesture toward the door.

"Come on, Twilight Sparkle," you say, leading the way back into the bustling streets of Paris. "We’ve got more ground to cover."

"Lead the way, Cruella," Felix replies, falling into step beside you, the weight of the books seemingly forgotten as he keeps pace with your confident strides.

The sun has dipped low on the horizon by the time you and Felix step out of the cab and into the gravel lot of the motel. The air is cooler now, and the faint hum of city noise has quieted to a low murmur. You’re juggling a few bags filled with books, your black leather miniskirt swishing slightly as you walk. Felix carries the rest of the bags, his hoodie unzipped and chains catching the faint light.

As the two of you approach the entrance, you spot Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho standing by the door. They look like they’ve been waiting, their postures ranging from bored to irritated. The moment Jisung locks eyes on you and Felix, his expression shifts into full-on dramatic exasperation.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Jisung practically screeches, his arms flailing for emphasis. "No note, car gone! You could have died! You could have been seen!"

Felix stops dead in his tracks, blinking at Jisung. "Are you seriously quoting Molly Weasley right now?"

"Get off your high horse or your flying car, Lee Felix!" Jisung snaps, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You two just vanished without telling anyone!"

Seungmin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "To be fair, Ji’s got a point. You could’ve at least sent a text or something. We were about five minutes away from putting your faces on milk cartons."

Minho, leaning casually against the wall, smirks as his eyes flicker between you and Felix. "You do realize how fucking suspicious this looks, right?"

Felix groans, rolling his eyes as he adjusts the bags in his hands. "Relax, Molly. We just went into the city. It’s not like we were out committing crimes."

"Yeah, well," Jisung huffs, crossing his arms, "a little communication wouldn’t hurt, Twilight Sparkle. You know, for the people who care about your sorry ass."

You let out a loud sigh, walking past Felix and shoving the bags into his chest as you take your own. "This is exhausting," you mutter, turning to Minho with a raised eyebrow. "Minho, let’s go to our room and drink some cheap wine."

Minho’s face lights up immediately, and he pushes off the wall. "Fuck yes. You don’t have to tell me twice."

"Wait a minute-" Jisung starts, but you’re already brushing past him, dragging Minho by the arm toward the door. Felix stares after you, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

"You’re just going to leave?" Jisung shouts after you, throwing his hands in the air. "What the hell!"

You don’t bother answering as you and Minho disappear into the motel, your laughter echoing faintly in the hallway. Felix watches you go and Seungmin elbows him lightly, smirking.

"Jealous much?" Seungmin asks, his voice low enough for only Felix to hear.

Felix scoffs, shaking his head. "Of course not. Why would I be?"

"Whatever you say, Twilight Sparkle."

In Felix and Jisung’s motel room, the air is filled with the sweet aroma of takeout desserts. The small table between their beds is piled high with boxes of crepes, profiteroles, crème brûlée, madeleines, tarte au citron, and a few other pastries they couldn’t resist ordering. A bottle of wine sits uncorked, their glasses half-full as they dig into the sugary spread.

Jisung, already halfway through his second serving of profiteroles, gestures at Felix with his fork. "You finally ready to admit you’re crushing on Y/N?"

Felix freezes mid-bite, a forkful of crepe hovering near his mouth. "No," he says firmly, though the redness creeping up his neck betrays him.

Jisung grins, shoving another profiterole into his mouth before speaking, his words muffled. "So you have a crush, but you’re still not ready to admit it? Got it."

Felix chokes on his wine, coughing as he sets his glass down and glares at Jisung. "That’s not- What the fuck are you even talking about?!"

"You’re blushing," Jisung says smugly, pointing at him with the fork. "Look at you. All red and flustered."

"I’m not-" Felix starts, but the way he splutters and stammers only makes it worse.

"Just admit it to me, Lix," Jisung presses, leaning forward with a wide grin. "Come on. I won’t tell anyone."

Felix sighs, dropping his fork onto his plate and running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he mutters, avoiding Jisung’s gaze. "I like her, okay? I’ve liked her since first year."

Jisung’s face lights up like Christmas morning, and he lets out an obnoxiously loud laugh. "Knew it! Fucking knew it!"

Felix groans, burying his face in his hands. "Don’t make a big deal out of it."

"Are you kidding me?" Jisung says, practically bouncing in his seat. "This is huge. Now we need an action plan."

Felix lifts his head just enough to shoot him a withering glare. "An action plan?"

"Yeah, dumbass!" Jisung says, reaching for the wine bottle and pouring himself another glass. "You’ve been crushing on her for almost two years. It’s time to do something about it. You’ve gotta romance her. She has to like you too, right?"

Felix hesitates, then sighs. "Fine. Let’s plan. But don’t make it fucking weird."

"Too late," Jisung says, grinning as he grabs a piece of paper and a handful of glitter pens from his bag. "We’re in France, my dude. We’ve got two more days in Paris, the City of Love. Then we’ve got Nice and Bordeaux. Prime romancing locations."

Felix rolls his eyes but grabs a pen, settling in across from Jisung. "Alright. Mindmap time."

"Fuckin’ A," Jisung says, uncapping a glitter pen and writing ROMANCE PLAN FOR CRUELLA in big, sparkly letters at the top of the page. "No ideas are bad ideas. Let’s brainstorm."

Felix leans forward, tapping his pen against his chin. "Okay. Dinner at a fancy restaurant?"

"Good start," Jisung says, writing it down. "What about a picnic in Nice? Beaches and shit are romantic."

"Not bad," Felix agrees. "What about flowers? Like, one of those Parisian flower markets?"

"Classic," Jisung says, nodding. "But we gotta balance the sweet stuff with something big. Like, I don’t know, serenading her under the Eiffel Tower."

Felix groans. "That’s terrible. I can’t sing for shit."

Jisung shrugs. "It’s supposed to be romantic, not good."

"Fine," Felix mutters. "What if we go wine tasting in Bordeaux? She likes wine."

"Now you’re thinking," Jisung says, scribbling it down. "Ooh, ooh! What about locking a love lock on a bridge? Isn’t that a thing here?"

"They removed most of the locks, dumbass," Felix says, snorting. "But I guess we could still do it somewhere."

Jisung grins, clearly getting way too into the brainstorming. "Okay, hear me out. What if you rent one of those little rowboats and take her out on a lake?"

Felix raises an eyebrow. "That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Disasters can be romantic," Jisung says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Felix shakes his head but doesn’t argue, watching as Jisung adds it to the list. The page is quickly filling up with a mix of ideas, ranging from sweet and thoughtful to utterly ridiculous.

"Okay," Felix says, leaning back with a smirk. "What if I just challenge her to a baking competition? Winner gets to make the other do something embarrassing."

Jisung cackles, slapping the table. "I love it. That’s so you two. Petty and competitive as fuck."

As the list grows longer, Felix finds himself smiling despite himself. Maybe Jisung’s enthusiasm is contagious, or maybe he’s just finally allowing himself to imagine what it might be like if things were different between him and you. Either way, he doesn’t stop the ideas from flowing.

And neither does Jisung. "Alright, last one, get a fucking bottle of champagne, bring it to the Seine at sunset, and confess. Boom. Game over."

Felix groans, but the faint blush creeping up his neck gives him away. "You’re such an idiot."

"Yeah, but I’m an idiot with amazing ideas," Jisung says, grinning as he holds up the finished mindmap. "Cruella’s gonna fall for you, Lix. Just wait."

The final day in Paris dawns bright and clear, the perfect weather for a free day. The group heads to the Palace of Versailles, the grand estate shimmering under the morning sun. The palace looms in front of you like something out of a dream, its golden gates gleaming and its architecture an overwhelming display of opulence.

You’re dressed to kill as usual: a red leather miniskirt, a black sleeveless halterneck top that shows off your intricate snake tattoo, and your signature black lace-up stiletto boots. Your half-black, half-white hair is styled perfectly, and your makeup is sharp enough to cut. Beside you, Felix looks effortlessly cool in beige baggy cargo trousers with black stripes, a black t-shirt, a cropped black jacket with silver zipper detailing, and stacked silver chains.

As you all make your way through the gardens, Felix walks beside you, stealing occasional glances your way. Jisung, walking a few paces ahead with Minho and Seungmin, catches Felix looking and immediately grins, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up.

Felix groans under his breath, running a hand through his pushed-back hair. "Subtle as a brick," he mutters, earning a side-eye from you.

"What’s his deal?" you ask, nodding toward Jisung.

"Nothing," Felix says quickly, a little too quickly.

You narrow your eyes suspiciously but let it slide, focusing instead on the sprawling gardens around you. The air smells like freshly trimmed grass and blooming flowers, and the sound of fountains bubbling in the background adds to the serene atmosphere.

Meanwhile, up ahead, Minho notices Jisung’s antics and raises an eyebrow. "What’s that about?" he asks, nudging Jisung with his elbow.

Jisung leans in, whispering conspiratorially. "Love! Romance! Bow chicka wow wow!"

Minho stops in his tracks, turning to Jisung with a smirk. "Like our bow chicka wow wow?"

Jisung grins, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh yeah. Felix will, uh-"

"Dominate the shit out of her?" Minho interrupts, his voice low but filled with amusement.

"Yeah!" Jisung says, nodding enthusiastically.

"Good," Minho replies, his smirk growing. "Y/N needs that. Maybe it’ll take the edge off her eternal ‘fuck everything’ vibe."

Seungmin snorts, shaking his head as he listens to their whispered conversation. "You two are the worst," he mutters, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.

Back in the rear of the group, Felix feels like his ears are burning. He doesn’t even need to hear what Minho and Jisung are whispering about to know it’s about you. Beside him, you’re admiring the ornate fountains, completely unaware of the chaos brewing just a few steps ahead.

"Wow," you say, your voice tinged with genuine admiration as you take in the gardens. "I forgot how ridiculous this place is. It’s like stepping into another world."

Felix chuckles, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Yeah, it’s insane. Kind of makes you wonder what it’d be like to live here."

"Probably boring as fuck," you reply, smirking. "I mean, what do you even do with all this space? Play hide-and-seek with servants?"

Felix laughs, the sound warm and unguarded. "You’d probably make them regret taking the job."

"Of course," you say, flashing him a wicked grin. "It’s part of my charm."

Felix shakes his head, his lips twitching upward despite himself. He risks another glance at Jisung, who’s now whispering animatedly to Minho, gesturing wildly like he’s planning a heist. Felix sighs internally. This trip is going to kill me.

"Come on," you say, grabbing Felix’s arm and tugging him toward one of the side paths. "I want to check out the Queen’s Hamlet. It’s the only part of this place that doesn’t look like it was made for a goddamn peacock."

Felix lets himself be dragged along, ignoring the knowing looks from the rest of the group. As he follows you deeper into the gardens, he can’t help but wonder if Jisung’s ridiculous romance plan might actually have a chance of working.

The Queen’s Hamlet is quieter than the main gardens, the rustic charm of its cottages a stark contrast to the ostentatious grandeur of the palace. You and Felix walk side by side, the gravel crunching under your boots and his Air Forces. It’s peaceful, but the air shifts when your phone buzzes loudly in your bag.

You stop abruptly, pulling it out. The screen lights up with a familiar name: Appa. Your expression hardens instantly.

"Hold up," you mutter, stepping away from Felix. "I need to take this."

Felix watches you go, tilting his head slightly. He leans against a low stone wall, idly fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. At first, your voice is too low for him to catch much of what you’re saying, but then it rises, sharp and clipped.

"No, Appa, I told you already," you snap. "I don’t want to meet any more men you’re trying to set me up with."

Felix freezes, his brows furrowing as he pretends to focus on the surrounding scenery. But your voice keeps drifting over, laced with frustration.

"I’m not interested," you say firmly. "What part of that don’t you understand? I don’t care how rich or successful they are. Stop treating me like some... project you can hand off to the highest bidder."

Felix’s grip tightens on the stone wall. He’s never heard you sound like this- So raw, so... vulnerable.

"I’ve said no every fucking time, haven’t I?" you continue, your voice biting. "And yet, here we are, again. You call me, drop a name like it’s supposed to mean something, and expect me to just fall in line."

There’s a pause, and Felix assumes the person on the other end is speaking. He risks a glance in your direction, seeing the way your shoulders are tense, your free hand clenched into a fist at your side.

"Because it’s not your fucking choice," you bite out, your voice trembling slightly now. "It’s my life, Appa. Mine. I’m not going to live it on your terms."

Felix swallows, his chest tightening as he listens. The sharp edge in your voice is familiar, it’s the same one you use when you’re deflecting, trying to mask something deeper. He’s heard it plenty of times in your bickering, but it feels different now. More real.

"I have to go," you say abruptly. "Don’t call me about this again. I mean it."

You hang up and stand there for a moment, your shoulders rising and falling as you take a deep breath. Felix looks away quickly, pretending to inspect the nearest flowerbed when you turn around and walk back toward him.

"You good?" Felix asks casually, though his voice is softer than usual.

You nod, slipping your phone back into your bag. "Fine. Just family shit."

He doesn’t push, though a dozen questions burn on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he falls into step beside you as you continue walking, the silence between you thick but not uncomfortable.

For the first time, Felix finds himself wondering if there’s more to you than the sarcastic, sharp-tongued persona you wear so well. And he hates how much he wants to find out.

The next morning, the group boards a coach for a day-long tour of Nice. The warm Mediterranean air filters in through the open windows, carrying the faint scent of saltwater and blooming flowers. The vibe is decidedly more relaxed than it was in Paris, but chaos still manages to cling to your group like a second skin.

You’re dressed in a green leather miniskirt and a black sleeveless halterneck top, the snake tattoo on your left arm catching the morning sunlight. Your stiletto boots click softly as you step onto the bus, your hair styled to perfection. Felix follows behind, his blue baggy jeans cinched with a black belt, a white t-shirt peeking out from under his black sleeveless leather vest. His boots thud against the metal steps, and his silver chains glint under the sun.

"I’m sitting with you," Felix says casually, brushing past you and dropping into the seat by the window before you can argue.

You roll your eyes, sliding into the seat beside him. "Lucky me."

Further back, Minho is sprawled across Seungmin’s lap, his head resting comfortably against Jisung’s shoulder. Seungmin looks mildly annoyed but doesn’t push Minho off, while Jisung beams as though having Minho draped over them is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

The tour guide begins rattling off facts about Nice over the intercom as the bus pulls away, but you barely pay attention. Felix leans over slightly, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"You’re glowing today, Cruella. Mediterranean air looks good on you."

You glance at him, your lips quirking into a smirk. "Nice try, Twilight Sparkle. I know flattery’s just your way of killing time."

Felix chuckles, his freckles scrunching as he grins. "Who says I’m not serious?"

"You always have an ulterior motive," you reply, crossing one leg over the other. "And I’m not buying whatever it is you’re selling."

Felix leans back, arms resting on the seat’s armrest, his grin never fading. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," you say sweetly, batting your eyelashes in mock innocence.

Across the aisle, Jisung watches the exchange with poorly concealed glee. He nudges Seungmin, whispering, "They’re at it again."

Seungmin snorts, shaking his head. "I’m telling you, I’m winning this bet. My money was on Nice."

"They’re slow-burning," Jisung whispers back. "This is buildup. They’re not fucking here. Bordeaux is when it’ll happen. Mark my words. Minho’s already out—he bet Paris."

Seungmin hums thoughtfully, his eyes flicking to Felix and you before muttering, "We’ll see."

Minho stirs in Seungmin’s lap, his head tilting to look up at him. "You two gossiping about my loss?"

"Obviously," Seungmin deadpans, and Minho groans dramatically.

The bus stops at the first destination, a stunning overlook with a panoramic view of the Mediterranean. As the group pours out of the coach, Felix sticks close to you, his casual demeanour laced with a certain intensity. You pretend not to notice, but the way his arm brushes against yours as you walk doesn’t escape you.

"Look at that view," Felix says, nodding toward the sea. "Almost as pretty as you."

You snort, folding your arms as you glance at him. "You’re laying it on thick today, aren’t you?"

Felix grins. "Can’t help it. The setting’s inspiring me."

"Careful," you tease, leaning in slightly. "Keep talking like that, and I might think you’re serious."

Felix holds your gaze for a moment longer than necessary, his grin softening just a touch. "Maybe I am."

The group moves from site to site throughout the day, exploring historic plazas, charming old streets, and local markets. Felix keeps up his flirtatious remarks, and you match his energy without missing a beat. It feels almost natural, the back-and-forth between you two flowing effortlessly.

At one point, as the group gathers for lunch, Jisung elbows Seungmin again, whispering, "See? This is foreplay. Bordeaux. I’m calling it."

"You’re so fucking smug," Seungmin mutters, taking a sip of his water. "But we’ll see who’s laughing when I win."

Minho chimes in from his spot, still half-draped over Jisung. "Whoever wins, we’re all enjoying this way too much."

By the end of the tour, the sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow over Nice. You and Felix walk side by side back to the coach, your conversations now dipping into quieter, more personal territory.

And though you’d never admit it, you find yourself enjoying his company far more than you expected.

The moonlight dances on the surface of the River Seine, casting shimmering ripples along its winding path through the heart of Paris. The air is cool but not cold, the faint scent of the river mixing with the aroma of freshly baked bread from nearby cafés. You and Felix walk side by side along the cobblestone path, the sound of your stiletto boots clicking rhythmically against the ground, contrasting with the quiet scuff of his sneakers.

Minho and Jisung had disappeared together hours ago, giggling about some “special” plans, while Seungmin had hit it off with a charming Frenchman and gone back to his hotel. That left just you and Felix, the two of you strolling in companionable silence under the soft glow of the city’s streetlamps.

"You’re quiet tonight," Felix says after a while, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. The silver chains around his neck glint faintly, matching the slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Just enjoying the peace," you reply, your sharp eyeliner cutting through the soft shadows of your flawless makeup. "Nice change from Minho and Jisung’s nonstop chaos."

Felix chuckles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black baggy jeans. "True. Those two could talk a brick wall into running away."

You snort, a small smile tugging at your lips as the river laps gently against the banks. The quiet stretches on for a moment longer before you break it, your voice soft but direct.

"Just ask."

Felix blinks, looking over at you. "Huh?"

You glance at him, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. "About my father. I know you’re curious, so just ask."

"Pfft," Felix scoffs, his hand brushing through his blonde-and-black pushed-back hair. "I wasn’t curious."

You give him a look, sharp, knowing, and utterly unamused. "Sure, Twilight Sparkle. Keep lying to yourself."

He grins sheepishly, his freckles catching the light. "Okay, fine," he concedes. "I was kinda curious."

You pull a cigarette from your bag, lighting it with ease before exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. "My mother died when I was two," you begin, your tone even but detached, as if you’ve told the story a hundred times before. "Ovarian cancer. They caught it too late. She’s buried in Père Lachaise Cemetery."

Felix’s grin fades, his expression softening as he listens.

"After she died," you continue, taking another drag, "I got shipped off to my father in Korea. I only spoke French and English at the time, so I had to learn Korean from scratch. That was... a fucking nightmare."

Felix stays quiet, letting you talk.

"Then I hit sixteen," you say, your voice sharpening, "and all he’s done since is shove marriage proposals down my throat. Rich men, powerful men, people who’d secure my future." You scoff, rolling your eyes. "And he gets less than happy every time I turn them down."

"That’s why you crash at the frat house so much?" Felix asks, his voice careful, soft.

You nod, flicking ash off the end of your cigarette. "One time, I called Chan from home. My loving father had just pushed me down a flight of stairs for saying no to one of his fucking ‘matches.’"

Felix’s jaw tightens, his hands balling into fists in his pockets.

"Once I’m twenty-one, I’m free," you add. "My mother left me an inheritance, enough to make sure I never have to deal with him again."

Felix nods, his voice low when he speaks. "You got a smoke for me?"

You glance at him, one eyebrow quirking up. "You smoke now?"

"Apparently," he says with a shrug, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

Rolling your eyes, you hand him a cigarette and your lighter. Felix lights it clumsily, inhaling with a small cough before adjusting his hold. He exhales, watching the smoke curl into the air before looking back at you.

"So only Chan knows?" he asks.

You nod. "He patches me up if I need it. Minho and Seungmin know about the proposals, but not the rest. Chan’s the only one who gets the full picture."

Felix stares at you for a moment, his cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers. He’s trying to find the right thing to say, but nothing feels big enough for the weight of what you’ve shared.

"You’re tough as hell, Cruella," he finally says, his tone quiet but sincere.

You glance at him, lips quirking into a small, sardonic smile. "Takes one to know one, Twilight Sparkle."

For a while, the two of you walk in silence, the river flowing beside you and the smoke from your cigarettes curling into the night sky. Felix can’t help but admire the way the moonlight catches in your two-toned hair, highlighting the sharpness of your features and the strength in your posture.

The quiet between you stretches for a few beats, the occasional murmur of tourists passing by in the distance blending with the sound of the Seine lapping against the riverbank. You take another drag from your cigarette, exhaling slowly as you glance at Felix, his gaze fixed on the water.

"What’s with the switch-up, by the way?" you ask, your tone sharp but not biting. "You’re being nice to me. It’s... weird."

Felix turns to you, smoke curling from his lips as he exhales upward, the tendrils dissipating into the night air. His silver chains glint faintly in the moonlight, and he quirks a brow, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk. "Can’t a guy change?"

"Change?" you scoff, flicking ash onto the cobblestones. "Our entire dynamic is based on verbally abusing each other. Now you’re Mr. Thoughtful and Mysterious? It’s fucking throwing me off, Twilight Sparkle."

Felix lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as he takes a slow drag from his cigarette. He exhales again, the smoke floating lazily between you as his gaze locks onto yours. "You’re so blind."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his tone. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Felix doesn’t answer, not with words, anyway. Instead, he steps closer, the faint scent of smoke and leather clinging to him as he closes the space between you. Before you can fire off another sarcastic remark, his hand reaches up, fingers tangling in your half-black, half-white hair.

And then he kisses you.

It’s not tentative or hesitant. It’s a kiss filled with frustration, intensity, and a heat that catches you completely off guard. His lips move against yours with a fervour that leaves no room for doubt, soft but firm, demanding but not rough. The world around you blurs; the hum of the city, the gentle ripple of the Seine, all of it fades as his other hand grips your waist, pulling you closer.

For a moment, you freeze, shocked by the suddenness of it all. But then your instincts kick in, and you kiss him back just as fiercely, your lips moving in sync with his. Your cigarette falls from your fingers, forgotten, as your hands find their way to the lapels of his leather jacket, gripping tightly.

Felix groans softly against your lips, his fingers tightening in your hair as he tilts your head slightly, deepening the kiss. The gentle tug on your hair sends a shiver down your spine, and your breath hitches as his hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you even closer.

It’s electric. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, every subtle shift of his hands. There’s a heat between you that feels both overwhelming and inevitable, like this moment has been building for years. When you finally pull back, it’s only because you need air, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

Felix’s forehead rests lightly against yours, his thumb brushing the back of your neck. His voice is low, slightly hoarse. "Took me long enough, huh?"

You blink up at him, still dazed, your lips tingling. "What the fuck was that?"

He smirks, his freckled face glowing under the moonlight. "What do you think, Cruella?"

"You kissed me," you say, as if stating it out loud will make it less surreal.

"Yeah," Felix replies, his tone soft but unwavering. "I kissed you. And I’m gonna do it again if you don’t stop me."

Your lips twitch into a small smirk of your own, your hands still gripping his jacket. "Bold move, Twilight Sparkle."

Felix chuckles, his nose brushing against yours as he leans in again. This kiss is softer, slower, but no less consuming. His hands hold you like he’s afraid you might slip away, and for the first time, you don’t feel the need to push back, to argue, to keep your walls up.

When he pulls back this time, he lets out a breathy laugh, his fingers still gently tangled in your hair. "You’re not as scary as you think you are."

"Shut up," you mutter, rolling your eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

As you both stand there by the Seine, the river sparkling behind you, it’s clear that the dynamic between you has shifted. And for once, you don’t mind.

The Alpha Phi living room is dimly lit, the glow from the TV casting flickering shadows on the walls as Coraline plays. The eerie stop-motion animation fills the room with an unsettling yet oddly comforting vibe. You’re perched sideways in Felix’s lap, one of his arms draped securely around your waist while the other rests on your thigh, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over the leather of your miniskirt. His warmth seeps into you, and you lean slightly against him, the two of you completely at ease.

You’re wearing a black leather miniskirt, a black sleeveless halterneck top, and your signature lace-up stiletto boots. Your hair is styled to perfection, the half-black, half-white strands cascading down in sleek waves. Felix looks effortlessly put together in black baggy jeans, white sneakers, and a white t-shirt under a black leather jacket. His layered silver chains catch the light every time he moves.

The movie’s dialogue is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, followed by footsteps. Chan walks into the living room, mid-sentence about something, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees the two of you. His mouth opens, then closes, his brows furrowing as he blinks rapidly like he’s trying to clear his vision.

"Oi!" he finally says, pointing at the two of you. "Everyone, get in here! I need to know I’m not fucking hallucinating."

"What the fuck are you yelling about now?" Minho calls from the kitchen, followed by the sound of chairs scraping as everyone gets up.

One by one, they pile into the living room: Changbin, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Jisung, and Jeongin, all looking various shades of confused and curious. The room grows crowded quickly, the boys practically shoving each other to get a better view.

"What the fuck?" Hyunjin mutters, his wide eyes darting between you and Felix. "Am I seeing this right?"

"Is she... in his lap?" Jeongin asks, pointing as if he needs confirmation from a higher power.

"She is," Minho says, his tone laced with mock astonishment. "Holy shit. This is real."

"Since when do you two-" Changbin starts, but Jisung cuts him off, grinning like a maniac.

"Wait, hold up," Jisung says, stepping forward and pointing dramatically. "When did you first fuck?!"

You snort, rolling your eyes at the sheer lack of decorum, but Felix answers without missing a beat. "Bordeaux."

"YES!" Jisung shouts, throwing his fists into the air. "The betting pool was sixty! Sixty times two is one twenty. What’s the euro to won conversion rate?"

"181,327.80 won," you deadpan, smirking as Jisung immediately turns to Minho and Seungmin, holding out his hand expectantly.

"Fucking hell," Minho mutters, digging into his wallet. "I knew I should’ve doubled down on Paris."

Seungmin sighs, pulling out cash as well. "I should’ve known you’d win, Ji."

Jisung grins triumphantly as he collects the money, stuffing it into his pocket like it’s the best day of his life. "Thank you, thank you. I’ll be accepting all congratulations and apologies from the losers now."

Felix shakes his head, his hand tightening slightly on your thigh as he mutters, "You’re all fucking insane."

"You love us," Jisung says, winking at him.

"Debatable," Felix replies, smirking before looking down at you. "How’d we end up with these idiots?"

"Bad life choices," you say, leaning back into him with a grin.

The room erupts into laughter, the atmosphere buzzing with the usual chaotic energy of Alpha Phi. As the conversation shifts to other ridiculous topics, Felix leans in close, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

"Still think our dynamic is just verbal abuse?" he teases, his breath warm against your ear.

You glance up at him, your smirk softening just slightly. "Guess you’ve got a point, Twilight Sparkle."

He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before pulling back. "Took you long enough to admit it, Cruella."

The two of you stay like that, tangled together on the couch as the chaos of your friends swirls around you. For once, it feels like the world has fallen into place.

General Taglist: @nightmarenyxx

Requested by anon

Proofread by @eastjonowhere

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hoshigray · 7 months ago

Text

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example.

Yes, you have a boyfriend.

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material.

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more.

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true.

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears.

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?”

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases.

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?”

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle.

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm.

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some—

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace.

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs.

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?”

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right?

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries.

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire.

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots. So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!”

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.”

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…”

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves.

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours.

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties!

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun.

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice.

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?”

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.”

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction.

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking.

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider.

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.”

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room.

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in.

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.”

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