#i know how to get there it just takes a hell of a lot of time and apparently a lot of tears too 🥲

[catrocketship]

Hi, I have been involved in community-organized campaigns and even organized political actions and I want to talk about this boycott.

I know people want to do something. It's great that people are seeing posters about this in the world and talking about it but let's talk about what an action needs to be effective and why people are saying that it won't work (spoiler: it's not just people being negative nancies! This boycott lacks something that is key: organizing to back it up).

Who is your target?

Boycotts cannot be everything. Okay, so this one isn't everything, but it's basically everything; all gas? Amazon, Walmart, Target (which doesn't leave a lot of us with options for food). All credit cards?

We have to determine a target, and to that target we must supply a demand. What is that we want to change? The form letter that accompanies this boycott says something about "bullshit Executive Orders" but I'm going to need you to be more specific than that if you want results.

(The EO demand doesn't even really make sense because Target, Walmart, and Amazon aren't following any EO. The DEI Eos don't apply to private entities like these corporations. They're rolling back DEI initiatives because it's better for their bottom line and the EO merely signaled that the atmosphere was right for it.)

What is your demand?

Boycotts are a tool of political action. We leverage these tools in order to apply pressure. Examples include the Montgomery Bus Boycott, BDS, the 1965 grape boycott. I would give this particular boycott more points if it even said "boycott them until they stop XYZ! or start ABC!"

The thing is, boycotts aren't even a super successful tool. But whatever, when they are successful they have a specific target, they are integrated into a campaign along with other tools, and they have a demand . Otherwise, how do we know what success is?

Great, so nothing we do matters.

No, I'm just saying that a boycott unattached to an organizing campaign is not going to change anything (because we didn't ask for anything!)

Organizing works.

Looking around and seeing something you'd like to change, meeting up and talking with other people who want to change the same thing making plans together -- these things are successful. You might even plan a boycott together. You might even take the boycott national or join a national boycott organized by someone else.

If you are new to political action and don't know where to start, look around your community. You may have to change your channels to get in touch with the people doing the work you will end up doing. Look at bulletin boards in cafes, look at your city's reddit, hell, even search [city name] and [issue interest] on Facebook and see if there is an active group. Ask your friend who wears all the buttons. Then show up. Show up to these meetings in person.

Get to know your neighbors. If that seems scary, do the work you need to do to get yourself in good enough working order to introduce yourself to strangers.

Join a community group. Attend a seed swap and join a gardening group. Meet up with others to draw at a cafe once a week.

When in doubt, start with food. Find a community fridge in your area and find out how to get involved.

I also like CAW Shiny Things' list of ways to get started because it's broader than many other (it takes into consideration art as community!)

When you find a community organization, you will make important connections there and practice muscles you use in political organizing, like building trust, power analysis, and planning actions.

I know that we are all scared and that this boycott feels good to latch onto. It's wonderful that you want to take action. I hope that you find something in this post that gets you more deeply involved than a fakey vague boycott.

I'm not saying don't participate. It won't hurt anything. I am saying that there is so much more work we have to do to affect change.

USA people! Buy NOTHING Feb 28 2025. Not anything. 24 hours. No spending. Buy the day before or after but nothing. NOTHING. February 28 2025. Not gas. Not milk. Not something on a gaming app. Not a penny spent. (Only option in a crisis is local small mom and pop. Nothing. Else.) Promise me. Commit. 1 day. 1 day to scare the shit out of them that they don't get to follow the bullshit executive orders. They don't get to be cowards. If they do, it costs. It costs.

Then, if you can join me for Phase 2. March 7 2025 thtough March 14 2025? No Amazon. None. 1 week. No orders. Not a single item. Not one ebook. Nothing. 1 week. Just 1.

If you live outside the USA boycott US products on February 28 2025 and stand in solidarity with us and also join us for the week of no Amazon.

Are you with me?

Spread the word.

[bunni-v1]

Oh, I would absolutely love to find out (in response to the post about Reader treating his minions like kids)! How do you think Shadow Milk would be like as a father? How would he treat his kid? :)

I don’t think Shadow Milk likes kids… but I also think he loves kids. Does that make sense? Like, he finds kids snotty and annoying, but they’re also really funny. They do stupid stuff and they’re so simple, it almost makes all their annoying habits cute. Almost.

He doesn’t really think too hard about having kids, mostly because… why would he? He’s an immortal god, he doesn’t really need to reproduce for any reason. But if he were presented with the idea by his partner I don’t think he would oppose. In fact, he loved the idea of making a kid! That’s all fun and dandy, but after the child is born (baked?) how does he feel.

Well, believe it or not, he realizes that he does like kids really quickly! Just, only his kids. Every annoying trait he seemed to despise before becomes undeniably charming coming from his little one. Oh, and if they look anything like you, help his soul he may crumble on the spot. He can’t help the way his dough softens when they bat their little eyes up at him all innocent like.

He 100% has a set of twins (bless his insane gene pool), and they are the lights of his life. They’re a nice mix of the both of you, and you’ll catch him staring at them a lot. He just can’t help it, seeing the product of your love is nice. Just one glance and any cookie could tell who’s the parents, it’s nice to have that literal living reminder that you love him enough to settle (sorta) with him.

They really can do no wrong in his eyes, unless you say they’re doing wrong, then it’s “listen to your parent kiddo” because he’s still stupidly in love with you. If you’re not around to tell them no, he’ll let them do whatever the hell they want. Hell, he encourages mischief and misbehavior, so long as they won’t get hurt from it.

He’s the fun dad, which is to be expected. He takes them on adventures and teaches them how to play pranks and even teaches them magic if they like. He wants them to grow up feeling like they’re on top of the world, because they are.

Still, he instills and demands respect toward both of you from them. He’s not above (reasonable and approved by you) punishments for either of them taking it too far. He also won’t tolerate disrespect to you, even if you’re the “no fun” one.

And, keeping it real for a second, he loves his kids. He really does. He’d never imagined having little cookies to care for, but he’d kill for them. When he first held their tiny little bodies in his arms, his whole world came together.

He’d lived his whole life bigger and grander than any other cookie, but holding his babies with you at his side… well he’d never felt smaller. He doesn’t typically like quiet, but he had no words to fill up the silence as he stood in awe of the beautiful children in his arms.

He’s a good dad, he wants to be a good dad. I know it’s hard to believe but once he gets these things he cherishes them. He would never forsake the family he was able to build up and keep as his own. The few cookies in all of earthbread that he let in would be loved like no others.

[leashybebes]

37 pls? 👀

pretend i've engaged with literally any vampire media since buffy, i guess 👀 (unless dracula daily counts). ALSO pretend this didn't accidentally run to like 1000+ words, what the hell.

It's almost a joke, really. A vampire who hates the taste of blood. Tommy's a loner - all vamps are if they have any sense, not so much because of safety anymore, but because they're territorial and temperamental - but he's run with enough clans over the decades, had enough contact with others to know it's not like that for everyone. He's heard people rhapsodize about the taste of honey and life and sunlight, which - he doesn't get how two thirds of that taste like anything. But to him, blood tastes like sucking on a penny. 

He's not an idiot - he needs it, he's not going to deny himself, especially when the twenty-first century is home to such civilized ways of getting it, but he's never going to lose his mind over it. He craves it if he goes too long without, but in the way he remembers craving food as a human, not the way he - very vaguely - remembers craving the taste of his mother's mutton stew. He's wondered a few times if that's what's kept him from going feral over the years. Maybe the idea of tearing throats out left and right would hold more appeal if blood tasted like ambrosia and whipped cream or whatever the fuck Sal was going on about for those few years they ran together in the forties.

But regardless, it's been a week, and Tommy has an appointment at the bank. It's not the kind of hidden away place that he and others like him used to be forced to frequent. It's a welcoming building, staffed by a mix of humans and vamps where humans can volunteer their services. Volunteer is a misnomer, though - people get paid. Tommy doesn't know the details of it, but he understands it's very satisfying. There are health checks, rules, security. Limits on donations. It's not enough to live on, but it's a nice supplement for a lot of people.

From the average vampire's perspective, it's pretty perfect - there are forms to fill out to state your preference in humans: gender, age, diet, things like that. Tommy always just checks any, but for a nominal fee (nominal relative to a couple centuries of accumulated wealth, anyway) he has a regular supply of blood and all he has to do is metaphorically pinch his nose and try not to taste it. It works for the humans, too, and not just the ones that get paid - rogue vamp attacks are at an all time low, and the sense of safety in the general populace has probably never been higher. Tommy wouldn't know. He tends to avoid the general populace whether it's human or vamp or anything else.

He checks in, scans the paperwork, signs off on Buckley, Evan, 28, no regular medication, non-smoker, occasional drinker, omnivorous diet and gets directed to one of the private rooms.

Buckley, Evan, 28 etc. etc., is already there, sitting cross-legged on the padded chaise and reading a book with an expression of concentration on his face. He looks up when Tommy opens the door and Tommy thinks, oh, beautiful. He's as big as Tommy - never mind that Tommy could throw him through the wall one handed if the mood took him - and he has stunning blue eyes, a splash of pinkish-red above one of them, and they crinkle in the corner as he smiles.

"Hi there. I'm Evan. Buck's fine, though."

Tommy tries not to wrinkle his nose. He's aware it makes him a rank hypocrite, but the human obsession with nicknames has always eluded him.

"Hi, Evan. I'm Tommy."

Evan folds down a corner of the page he was on and tosses his book aside, shrugging out of his zip-up sweatshirt to reveal a short-sleeved, slightly threadbare tee underneath. It leaves little to the imagination, and Tommy has a very vivid imagination.

"Elbow or wrist, pick your poison," Evan says, offering one arm. 

Tommy takes a seat next to him. Throat is quickest and would be his preference - get it over with before the taste can register too much - but it's frowned upon.

"Elbow," Tommy says, and cradles Evan's arm in his hands. He's so warm. So soft despite the muscle. He lowers his head and pauses. "Paperwork said non-smoker."

And look, he doesn't care, not really. It's not going to make it taste any better or worse, but if Evan's lied on his paperwork and something happens, Tommy could be liable.

"Firefighter," Evan says. "Sorry. I showered a bunch, but it lingers. And I guess with your sense of smell…"

"Yeah," Tommy says. "Okay."

He runs his thumb over the soft skin on the inside of Evan's elbow, lets his fangs descend. He feels Evan shiver, and it must be a reflex because the sour tang of fear completely fails to fill the room.

"On three," he says, and hears Evan chuckle.

"That's sweet. Thank you."

Tommy doesn't say that it's largely for his own benefit, to psych himself up for the awful taste to flood his mouth.

"One. Two. Three."

His fangs pierce the soft, pale skin and - 

He's -

In paradise.

He pulls away after the tiniest taste, looks up at Evan with wild eyes. Evan looks…concerned.

"You okay, big guy?"

"That - " Tommy says, the word coming out misshapen and slurred around his fangs, around that taste. "You taste - "

"Uh - should I - should I call somebody?"

"No!" Tommy's aware he said it too quickly, too emphatically. "You taste incredible."

"Oh." Evan looks weirdly pleased by that. 

"Set - set the timer," Tommy says. He never needs a timer. He has it down to a fine art - choke it down for long enough to sustain him until next time and get out, but - god, he'd take every drop if he could. He'd drown in that taste if he could.

"Already did," Evan says. "Clock's ticking."

Tommy groans and falls against him, his mouth returning to the pin-pricks of red at his elbow, lets himself bite harder, until that flavor bursts over his tongue again. And he gets it. He gets it. Sunshine and sugar and sex and heat and a thousand indescribable things. Buckley, Evan, 28, etc. is not only the most handsome creature Tommy's seen in decades, he also tastes like everything he's ever heard people rave about. 

The clock is ticking, and Tommy drinks and drinks and drinks, more in one go than he has in years, knows he's lost, knows he has to have this for the rest of Evan's life.

[telephoniii]

WHY WOULD A FELLOW WANT A GIRL LIKE HER?

☆彡 in which malleus and leona fight for your affections

leona kingscholar x gn!reader & malleus draconia x gn!reader

word counter: 4K

warnings: reader is prefect, cursing, love triangle, possible ooc

a/n: based off of the song “stepsister’s lament” from cinderella the musical— hence the title. one of my favorite works!! I had fun writing this!! both mal and leona are capital p PETTY and I'm living for it. i hope you enjoy :>

No matter how much he claims he doesn't care, Leona finds himself hissing at the sight of you and Malleus together. He wants to deny it so badly— but deep down he knows. 

He knows as he glares at you, sitting on a bench beside the fae, giggling and having a jolly old time. He’s well aware of what he’s feeling as he scoffs, telling the greedy hyena beside him that he’s returning to the dorm.

And he’s fully conscious as he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling; unable to get the image of you and that spiny horned reptile out of his head. 

He’s jealous. Envious. And any damn variation of the sort.

Out of all the people you could choose to spend your time with, you pick that slimy lizard?! 

Your taste is questionable—who’s he kidding? Absolutely awful. Really, going for the guy who doesn’t age? Ever think about how awkward it’s going to be when you’re getting hip pains and he still looks like a teenager? Hell, he’s not one for settling down but wouldn’t you at least want someone with the capacity of growing old together?!

What does that scaley little scumbag do for you anyway?

Sure, Malleus does gift you little trinkets you’ve mentioned in passing. Leona isn’t blind; he can see the way you light up at these gifts. He distinctly remembers seeing a dorky gargoyle keychain on your bag. It stank of that fae freak. 

Yet you seemed to adore the tiny statue, so much so that you went on a small rant about the history. To Leona’s surprise, he listened to every single word you had to say about it. Gargoyles are always way more interesting when it’s you talking about it. 

Though, everything involving you is more interesting nowadays… He had to resist the urge to sand that stupid little toy right then and there.

And he’s well aware of the ‘secret’ walks the two of you have at unholy times of the night, talking about whatever that overgrown lizard is interested in. The way you speak of it like nobody knows is irritating. Only an idiot wouldn’t pick up on it. 

Too bad NRC is full of idiots.

It’s not like it matters too much anyway. He doubts Malleus has the charisma to charm you. The guy isn’t invited to a whole lot of events for a reason. While Leona knows he can come off as a prick, he’s still a prince nonetheless. He was taught how to flatter and flirt— he remembers being surrounded by a bunch of bootlickers as a cub. 

He isn’t intimidated by Malleus’s magic all too much either. Although he’s more than sure you wouldn’t fall for a person solely based on their strength, Leona believes he could take on Malleus. The lizard is painfully predictable after all. 

Not to mention most of his ‘shows of power’ are akin to temper tantrums. If dueling wasn’t banned, that pathetic excuse of a dragon would be dragged in the mud by him.

Everything Malleus does for you, he could do better. He’s sure of it. 

Beneath the surface, is he scared of coming second place to yet another person? Terrified that he’ll always be the second-best choice? That all the time spent with you would never be more than that? Maybe. 

But those night terrors are lessened when he sees you approach— knowing he was the sole reason you were there. 

Leona feels his heart race as you sit beside him, casually talking about your day and whatever hijinks you got into. He worries you might hear just how fast it beats for you when you nap with him, laying your head on his chest. 

As he hears you mumble his name in your sleep, he feels reassured that he’s your one. 

I mean— why would someone as great as you ever want a flimsy, little lizard? Especially when he’s right here, ready to be your pillow in hard and happy times. 

~

A green thunderbolt struck through the sky. Coincidentally, you happened to be napping on Leona outside when this happened— shaking the both of you awake.

Did Malleus do this on purpose?… Of course not. He’s not immature enough to do that, unlike a certain lion he knows.

It’s not his fault that you two were cuddling outside when he was ‘testing’ out something with his thunder.

That doesn’t mean he was any less satisfied watching you get up and walk back to your dorm, leaving that mangy cat by himself.

He never understood what value you gained from hanging around someone as…unusual as Kingscholar. A ‘prince’ who lays around, sleeping the day away? What a joke! Wouldn’t you rather have a prince— better yet a ruler— who’s proactive in his kingdom?

That flappy street cat is better suited to accompany Grim rather than yourself. 

He doubts Kingscholar would hold open the door for you like he does! 

Malleus has heard it’s a human custom to do so; ever since then, he’s now perfected the art of swiftly rushing over to a door and slamming it open for you. It delights him when you giggle at his antics. He bets that idiotic lion would never be able to do that— Kingscholar barely moves anyway. It’s like he’s glued to that bed of his.

Kingscholar seems as though he’d let the door slam in your face. That alone just shows how superior Malleus is to him. 

Although, Kingscholar’s words of advice indeed seemed to matter to you quite a lot. Every time you had attracted chaos, you commonly turned to the lazy loaf and asked for his perspective. And each time, without fail, Mal had watched you take the prince’s suggestion in stride and use it.

It pains him to admit it, sometimes Kingscholar can be rather clever. Malleus is somewhat glad that said lion uses his intelligence to keep you safe.

He doesn’t know what, but something about Kingscholar’s mere existence seems to relax you. Malleus has seen you look at ease in a way he’s never witnessed before when you simply just lay beside the other student. He watches with envy as Kingscholar’s tail protectively wraps around your thigh. 

As long as you’re safe… Malleus supposes he can bear through you hanging out with the lion.

That won’t stop him from interrupting the two of you whenever he feels the time is right. Sudden bolts of thunder, random objects falling from the sky and hitting Kingscholar on the head, out-of-the-blue power outages…

It’s all fair play to him. You still get to hang out with that lazy excuse of a prince anyway.

It doesn’t matter too much to him— at least that’s what he tells himself. It’s not as though you’d leave him to hang out with Kingscholar; no, you’d never. 

You’ll stay, won’t you?

He’s sure of it as you walk beside him in the dead of night. Nobody else knows, nor do they need to as you two stroll along the campus. Seeing your enthusiastic smile next to him as you talk about your dreams fills him with unexplainable joy. Malleus fights the urge to hold your hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

You seemed to have read his mind— you always do understand him like no other— as you glanced down at your hands. A small giggle leaves your lips before you inch your hand closer to his.

“Can we…?” You hum with hopeful and amused eyes.

Wordlessly, Malleus indulges now with your consent. The warmth of your hand compared to the polarizing coldness of his made him feel dizzy. In a good way. 

You’ll never leave him. At least not when you're hand in hand together like this.

~

“Man I’m starving— Hurry it up, henchman!” A familiar, squeaky voice demanded as Grim pushed on your shoulder. 

“Patience, patience. This is very important. It can determine my mood for the rest of the day.” You murmured, standing strong despite Grim’s efforts. Narrowing your eyes, you stared at the different lunch options. 

What were you going to eat today?

“Prefect has a point. Your nutrition affects the way you function.” Jack shrugs behind Grim, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You say that like they’re going to eat something healthy.” Ace yawns, stretching out his arm and lightly hitting Deuce. “Hurry it up, Prefect! Clock’s ticking!”

“Fine! Fine!” Quickly, you grabbed the same thing you’ve gotten for the past week. A series of groans emerged from behind you.

“All that time just to get that?” Ace crossed his arms, giving you an unamused look. 

“Okay, I’ll get something else then—“

“—Nononononono!” Practically everyone behind you yelled in a panic.

“Just go sit down ‘n secure us a table already!” Epel huffs, to which you happily comply.

You scout out the area, looking for a free table to sit at. Geez, was the cafeteria always this packed?

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you spot a familiar, robotic Shroud waving to you from a table.

“Prefect!” Ortho chirps, his voice synthesizer going a pitch up. Just as you were about to walk over, you felt your blazer being pulled on from the back. Suddenly, you were yanked away.

“Ay! Watch it—!” You grab the hand that was pulling on you, turning around to come face to face with a smug Ruggie.

“Leona’s callin’ you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“He didn’t want to send a text or call? He just had to send a goon to come and get me?” 

Ruggie nodded with a cheeky grin.

“Yep.”

Groaning, you turn towards Ortho and wave him goodbye, signaling that you are going to leave. “Lead the way, hyena.”

And with that, you found yourself walking through the hallways on your way to Savanaclaw. You hope Ortho told the others about you leaving. It kinda slipped your mind to tell them.

You snapped out of your thoughts as you heard munching coming from Ruggie— “Wait, that's my lunch you’re eating! How’d you even…!? When did you…?!”

It also slipped your mind that Ruggie is both a great thief and greedy when it comes to food.

“Shishishishi… you left yourself open, Prefect! I’m sure Leona will get you something else to eat. He always does.”

“Always is a stretch.” You grumble, watching Ruggie eat your food. “Is it?” You didn’t want to ponder his question. 

Instead, you turn your gaze ahead of you and focus on walking… At least that’s what you would be doing if you didn’t walk face-first into somebody. 

“Gah! I’m so sorry—“ “Child of man.” 

Only one person used that nickname for you. Looking up, you were met with Malleus’s amused smile. 

“Impeccable timing,” The fae seemed happy to see you. You could see his fangs the way he was smiling. Ruggie was unsettled but thankful that Malleus was ignoring his presence. “Would you accompany me for lunch? Lilia, Sebek, and Silver will be there too, of course.” 

You were about to accept right away before you felt a light hit to your side. Ruggie sneakily elbowed you. Before you could curse at him, he gave you a look and— Oh, right. You were going with him to spend lunch with Leona already. A small frown made its way on your lips as you turned back to Malleus.

Great sevens, it was hard to turn him down. Especially when he was all cheery like this. 

Fortunately— or unfortunately, you didn’t have to. A roaring voice from behind you did it for you.

“Herbivore’s coming with me. They agreed to it already.” Leona huffed, a scowl clear on his face as he approached. Ruggie seemed surprised.

“Leona?! What’re you—“ “Did they now? I didn’t exactly hear them say no to my proposal though.” Malleus interrupted Ruggie, whose ears went flat against his head. 

“They don’t need to. They’ve already got plans.” The lion growled, narrowing his eyes at the other third year. 

Malleus stepped forward, the fae’s irritation growing. “Why do you insist on speaking for them so vigorously? My dear child of man, don’t let him dictate your choices—“

“I’m not doing shit. Just stating what they already agreed to.” Leona also stepped forward, refusing to back down. 

You were starting to get worried and turned your head to murmur something to Ruggie. Except Ruggie wasn’t there. The hyena snuck off already. Bastard. A voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Well, Prefect? Who would you rather accompany? Kingscholar— who’ll likely laze around the whole lunch— or I?”

“Damn lizard…” Leona grumbled under his breath before shaking his head and facing you. “Well? The choice is yours. I wouldn’t force you to do anything.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze flickering between the two. “Well… I—“

Before you could finish, you were interrupted by a loud ring.

The lunch bell had rung. It was time to head back to class.

~

“Are you doing okay?” You ask, shifting closer to Leona. He lets out a small grunt in response, his eyes closed as he sprawled out in his usual spot inside the Botanical Garden. 

For as tough as Leona was, he was unusually soft when tired. He carried this relaxing air around him. That no matter what happens, you’ll be okay with him around. The thought makes you smile as you tilt your head at him.

He was also kinda cute when he laid there like that—

“Quit staring.”

Leona abruptly huffed out. Blinking in surprise, you soon realize that one of his eyes was cracked open. A tiny blush finds its way on your cheeks while he stutters out an apology. The lion’s lips soon form a smug grin.

“You were looking at me pretty attentively, herbivore…” His words are slow and agonizing. Leona’s tail swishes up and down as he leans in closer. Your eyes widen as he comes mere inches away from your face; from your lips.

“…Got something you want to tell me?” You feel your breath hitched at the sudden, feather-light touch of Leona’s hand against yours. Just as you were about to respond—

“Roi du Lions!” 

The romantic atmosphere Leona so carefully built went down the drain, along with his motivation. A groan left his lips.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt.” Trey soon appears behind Rook, an apologetic expression on his face. You shake your head, standing up. 

“You’re good! What’re you two up to?” 

Leona had an annoyed look on his face as you engaged with the other students. He tried to ignore and drown out everyone’s voices. At least he was, till Rook caught his attention.

“During an exploration for new ingredients that we could bring to our club, Roi de Dragons made a magical appearance.“ You raised a brow while Leona’s ear flicked.

Trey let out a small chuckle at Rook’s dramatic storytelling.

“Malleus just asked us to find something for him in the Botanical Garden.” 

Leona’s scowl deepened. That damn lizard.

“Maybe we could help! What’re you looking for?” You offered.

Trey soon fiddled with his pocket, searching for something. Shortly after, he pulls out a piece of paper. “A… toy? It looks like this. Malleus said he last had it here.”

You made an “O” shape with your mouth. “His virtual pet! Gao-Gao!” Trey lets you hold the paper, letting you get a closer look at the drawing that resembled Malleus’s Tamogachi. 

“I know what it looks like, I’ve got no idea where he could’ve left it though…” Soon enough, you, Trey, and Rook are scouring the Botanical Gardens for this little toy. Leona finds this stupid. 

Slightly bitter about his ruined moment, he lays back down to take a nap.

That’s when his ear flinched after hitting something hard. Turning around with a displeased look, Leona’s eyes narrowed.

There, in his favorite sleeping spot was Malleus’s dumb toy —which wasn’t there literally minutes ago might he add. Picking it up, Leona contemplated crushing the small electronic. However, as he held it, the lion was quick to notice a bit of ink getting on his fingers. 

He turned the Tamogachi around. Written on the back with a blue pen was “Kingscholar :)”

Oh, that fucking Draconia did this on purpose.

~

Sitting up from your bed, you rub your eyes. With an annoyed groan, you get up and go to the door— trying not to wake Grim in the process. You could feel the ghost watching with curiosity. Not that you blamed them. Hell, you were curious too!

Who was knocking at 2 in the morning!?

The sun wasn’t even up. Ramshackle probably looked horrid, inside and outside, at this time.

You weren’t looking too great either: bags beneath your eyes, saggy pajamas, slouched posture… Vil would die on the spot if he saw you. Internally, you prayed it was anybody but him. And thank the Sevens that your prayer was answered.

You titled your head in confusion at the one in front of you.

“Malleus?” He smiled back at you. As though his appearance on your doorstep at the crack ass of dawn was the most normal thing ever.

“Greetings.”

You shook your head, still waking up and trying to make sense of the situation. “Do… Do you need something?”

Now he looked confused. Which only heightened your confusion.  The fae furrowed his brows. “Did you not want to talk, child of man?” 

“I like talking with you! Just, preferably not this early in the morning— Look, why are you here? Did you just want to hang out, Tsunotarou?” You tried being as polite as possible, but damn you were tired. 

Malleus looked just as lost as you.

“…Perhaps you’ve forgotten about the letter you sent me?” You look to the side, slightly scrunching your nose as you try to remember what ‘letter’ he was referring to. 

“Uhh— When did I send this letter?” You give him an apologetic smile. It wasn’t too far-fetched; the idea of you giving him an invitation to Ramshackle. 

However, you feel as though you would’ve remembered if you had actually done it. And you would’ve hoped that past you would be smart enough to set your invitation time to anytime BUT 2 AM. 

“I recall receiving this letter yesterday, in the library,” Malleus explained, his hand reaching into his pocket to find said paper. “You slipped it to me when you walked by—“

The fae grabbed his invitation, only for him to be met with sand that trickled down his hand.

“—with Kingscholar…” He fell silent as he stared at the tiny particles in his hand. You seemed to catch on quickly, giving him a sympathetic look as your eyes flickered between the sand and him.

“Tsunotarou, did you see me give you this letter?” 

The way he averted his eyes to the side, his pale cheeks faintly turning pink from embarrassment, already gave you the answer you needed. It’d be cute if not for the circumstances. As expected, Malleus shook his head.

“My apologies… I assumed it was you since I had acquired it right after you had waved at me and it was an invitation to Ramshackle.”

You let out a small chuckle before brushing off the sand that still dirtied his hand. “Don’t sweat it. It’s not your fault that Leona is… well Leona and he does stuff like this.” Offering Malleus a smile, your hand soon intertwined with his. The blush on his cheeks subtly brightened.

“Well, you did come all this way just to hang out. It’d be a shame to turn you away now. Here, come.” You kick the door to open it wider and pull the fae inside Ramshackle. Leading him to the couch, you could gauge that Malleus was amused by your antics. Practically dragging one of the top mages in the world by the arm into your dorm…

“Let me just freshen up first! Wait here— I’ll be right back. Then we could watch some movies or whatever.” You shrugged with a grin before running upstairs to wash up. Malleus gave you a polite and happy wave as you exited.

Once you left, he let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch. His hands balled into fists as he felt more sand pooling in his pockets. A green bolt of lightning struck from the sky.

That measly fucking lion.

~

You let out an aggravated sigh. Did they not think you realized what both of them were doing to each other? Between the Tamagotchi incident and the whole letter debacle a few nights ago, they were being so obvious.

Jeez, you get that they had a rivalry going on and whatnot, but why did they have to involve you? Fed up and rambling, you look to your side at Grim to get his thoughts on the matter. He sat next to you in the kitchen, munching away on a can of tuna.

“They’re getting really annoying! Stealing my henchmen’s time like that…” A chuckle left your lips at Grim’s bitterness, causing you to pet him on the head. 

“Mhm. I just want them to quit it— at least around me. I’m good friends with both and care a lot about them… Also, don’t talk with a mouthful.” You lightheartedly huff, getting up from your seat to grab Grim another can of tuna as he was beginning to finish his first. He usually ate two to three cans before bedtime.

“Why don’t ya just tell 'em?” The cat curiously asked with a tilt of the head, staring at you. You let out a snort. “Yeah, just tell two extremely powerful mages with an intense hatred for one another to stop. Like that’ll work.”

Grim let out an annoyed groan at your sarcasm. You opened a new can of tuna and slid it to him. His frown quickly disappeared as he began to dig in.

“Eh— sounds like Leona and Malleus could use some quality time together.” Grim offhandedly comments, chewing away on his food. 

“What did I say about talking with a mouthful, man?” You roll your eyes before falling silent, pondering his words. Quality time… Leona… Malleus…

“Grim! You’re a genius!”

~

“Herbivore, what the hell.” Leona’s tone was unamused, giving you a deadpan look.

“I thought it’d be nice if we hung out all together! As a group?” 

The two men stared daggers at each other across the small, dusty table in Ramshackle. With a nervous chuckle, your eyes flickered between the two as you slowly passed out cards for some random board game that Idia lent you.

Leona and Malleus didn’t take their eyes off one another. It was at this moment you were starting to think that Grim, in fact, was not a genius.

These two were definitely going to kill each other.

[sometimesanalice]

I just loved getting to read your thoughts! It’s always so fun to see the things that stand out the most to people!

More for you!

Ok, so I try something new. Kinda like a life comment while reading, let's see how it goes.— thank you for taking the time to write your thoughts out and share with me!!

Sweetie the effort is great, but that's why you google the places you go to. I feel so bad for reader though. A warning would have been nice. Hopefully, at least her date is appreciating the effort...— bless her!! The one time she decided to throw cation into the wind, it boomeranged and hit her right back in her face! I tried to fold in ways that showed how she was usually a planner, but trying something new (like the way she was stressed about not knowing the drinks menu and what to order). And then juxtapose how out of place she felt under the circumstances at the beginning, compared to the end with Bradley and how much more at ease she is because of him making her feel that way.

Bradley the cavalry comes to the rescue. At least the Valentine's day is getting a little better. Ok, I correct myself. It's getting a hell of a lot better. “Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.” Really Mr. Bradshaw? You wanna make me melt in my seat or what?— that man is all gas no brake!! There’s nothing subtle about him in the least! And it makes for so much fun! 🤭🤭🤭

“Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.” Oh please. You are a 20/10.— cheeky boy!!

Ok. He gets her a ring on date one. If that's not the most romantic thing ever I don't know what is.— I’d be in an absolute FULL SWOON

“I take it you know, Malibu Ken?” The way I burst out into laughter at this perfect description of Hangman... even my dog gave me the side-eye for disturbing her sleep. Also, the annoying younger brother energy I am getting from this is priceless.— Hangman is a MENACE! Like let the man flirt with a pretty girl! 😂 he definitely deserved his new moniker!

I am so proud of reader for grilling Hangman with such grace. You go girl.— she was such a queen! She was like, I’ll just show you how it’s done 💅🏻

Also, that move with the dating app. Good god Rooster is just such a romantic and I'm living for it. I loved every second of their banter and the amount of times I've sat here awwing or kicking my feet while I giggle might be a bit alarming but I loved every second of it. This was such a wonderful read and I sure as hell will come back to this one quite often. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.— ahhh!! Oh that makes me so happy you liked this!! That dating app bit was a last minute burst of inspo and I’m so glad that I decided to include it because I love just the extra mile he went with that! 🤭

GIF by muvana

To you, for writing this masterpiece and to cute paper rings and milkshakes with two straws— 🥂🥂🥂

For the Plot

Summary: Things aren't looking too good for you, sitting alone at the Hard Deck waiting for a man who might not show. Until Bradley Bradshaw sits down across from you and turns your entire night upside down.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Length: 7.7k

Warnings: fluff, so much flirting, and an italicized oh

Going on a first date on Valentine’s Day is unarguably the worst possible idea that anyone has ever had.And while the sure to be terrible, no good, horribly bad idea hadn’t been yours, you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking when you’d even agreed to it in the first place.

The guy you were planning to meet tonight was cute enough, even if you were still undecided about the mustache. And while the chats between the two of you had been pretty good as far as it goes getting to know a literal stranger, you were hopeful that it could be even better in person. The fact he was in the Navy was still a bit of a consideration for you, but not a deal breaker.

In retrospect, the name of the bar should have been your first clue and the location paired with the causal beachy exterior covered in planes should have been the second.

You had been expecting to see more than one girl all done up in pinks and reds tonight, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. And you swear to god, somewhere you hear a record scratch as you step into the Hard Deck, because you are surrounded by nothing but a sea of olive green and khaki and denim.

And you have never been so clearly out of place in your entire life.

There was nothing about your ensemble that was even remotely fitting for the literal Navy bar you’d found yourself in.

The ice pink mini slip dress you’d dug out of your closet was admittedly a little much for a first date, but since it was Valentine’s Day you figured why not lean into it a bit. And well, if your date didn’t appreciate it, then that was a him problem.

Or so you’d thought at the time, because now it was a decidedly you problem.

The silhouette was simple enough, with the gentle drape of the cowl neck and the barely-there spaghetti straps, but the shiny sheen of the fabric made a statement of its own. It wasn’t something you got to wear very often for as much as you loved it.

But then you’d gone ahead and paired it with the tallest, most ostentation heels you had. The effort had been worth it though because the pearl encrusted block heels made your legs look like they went on for days. Even if it had been a feat trying to get the dainty buckle done with the way you’d been rushing out of the house with your beaded bag in tow.

The whole look was something you’d sure would come with Cher Horowitz’s seal of approval. However, the patrons of the Hard Deck you were less sure about. And even though there were civilians- like yourself- scattered about the bar, none were anywhere near as dressed up as you.

There are more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you stand there with your feet glued to the uneven wooden floors, as the door with its porthole-shaped window slowly closes behind you with a squeaky creak. The twinkle lights above your head felt more like a spotlight, illuminating how out of place you are in this moment.

Your hand is still clutched on the handle unsure whether you’re going to make a run for it or not. You are more than a little tempted to hightail it back to the parking lot and text your date to claim a bout of food poisoning from the safety of the driver’s seat in your car.

But chances are if your date is here then he has already seen you. A bright beacon of pink amongst varying shades of brown and woodgrain.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, trying not to panic. Officially a victim of your own bad decision making.

You take a quick scan of the room, trying to decide what your next move should be. There’s a woman behind the bar with kind but clearly inquisitive eyes. A blonde with a wolfish smile eyes you from where he stands next to a man with broad shoulders bent over what must be the pool table, hidden behind the paneled half wall. By a dart board, there are a couple men with their heads turned towards you, the game seemingly forgotten as they discuss the spectacle that is you.

There are hundreds of planes dangling over the bar, patches and plaques littering the walls and rafters, rounders suspended from the ceiling laden with too many ceramic mugs to count. It was all done with a heavy-handed, maximalistic approach that you’d take a moment to appreciate under any other given circumstances.

When you spot an open table tucked away in the corner of the room it feels like life raft to the iceberg of a situation you’ve put yourself in. Mindful of the scuffed, uneven floors- because the last thing you need is to eat shit or twist an ankle in front of room full of curious onlookers- you hustle over to the spot in hopes of having a moment to regroup.  

Once you’re situated- shrugging off the ivory cardigan you’d topped your outfit, trying to keep the nervous sweat that wanted to break out over your body at bay- you pull out your phone and check the time only to realize you’re devastatingly on time. Five minutes early, to be specific.

So you wait.

And check your phone again and the notifications in the dating app, just in case you missed something.

And wait.

You try to play it cool, skimming posts on Instagram and replying to some overdue texts. Finding anything you can to keep yourself occupied to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach the longer you sit there. Alone.

Now you’re not just simply embarrassed, you’re mortified.

You can still feel the eyes, the energy steadily shifting from curiosity to sympathy over the last thirty minutes you’ve been waiting all alone in the corner of a Navy bar you had no business being in for a man who clearly wasn’t going to show.

So much for doing it for the plot, you think to yourself with a shake of your head.

Another minute ticks by with no message and you decide you’re more than ready to hightail it out of there. Fully aware that you’re about to become a topic of conversation that won’t have to be restricted to only covert glances and muffled whispers. But hopefully, they’ll at least wait until the door closes behind you before the chatter starts up for real.

With a sigh, you reach for your beaded bag, just as a large body slips into the chair across from you, with an ease that is in contrast to the bulk of muscles you catch in your peripheral vision.

“You look like you’re in need of a date,” a warm, raspy voice offers.

It’s the smile that you catch first. Not quite a grin, but something familiar and friendly and charming in the way it crookedly pulled to the left. Followed closely by the rich chocolate brown eyes that were squarely trained on you with a look that was just as earnest as it was playful. But what surprised you the most was the way he was sitting in the stool across from you just as comfortably as if he was supposed to be there all along.

There was no way you could have prepared yourself for the sheer level of attractiveness of this man.

He was in a league of his own with those curls and wide shoulders. The white and olive green stripped crochet shirt he was wearing didn’t hurt either, especially the way the top buttons were undone giving you glimpse of a chain around his neck and the chest underneath it. He didn’t need to be in uniform- or even in a Navy bar- for you to tell he was a military man. Not with the confident way he held himself.

Even if the mustache he was sporting made it feel like the universe was playing tricks on you, but he more than wore it well.

You huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “What gave it away?” you ask. “The way I’ve been watching the door? Or just the general look of regret and embarrassment?”

“Embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?” His eyebrows pull together, perplexed. He shakes his head like he disagrees with even the suggestion of it. “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is the guy who is missing out on sitting across from you right now.”

You give him a soft smile of your own in return for the cinnamon sweet words. There’s a genuineness in his tone that makes some of the tightness that had settled in your shoulders from the moment you’d walked in release.

“That’s kind of you, but I think I’m going to head out,” you say, nodding to the door you never should have stepped through in the first place.

He gives you a teasing tsk. “And let a dress like that go to waste? Now that would be a shame.”

The appreciative look in his gaze that sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. And then his eyebrow ticks up, just a little. Part invitation, part dare. And you can’t say you’re not intrigued.

There’s a decision to make.

You could leave now and cut your losses. There was a reason you had a back-up pizza in the fridge and had left you well-loved copy of You’ve Got Mail sitting out on your coffee table.

Or you could stick around and see what happens next.

You tilt your head at him, just as teasing. “Would it now?”

“It would,” he states, sincerely.

Before you can reply, your phone lights up with a new notification, pulling you out of the whisky haze you’d found yourself in. 

His eyes dip down to your illuminated screen. “Is that him?”

“It is,” you confirm, almost regretfully. You open the app and skim the message. And then read it again.

There’s no sorry, no apology for cancelling a half an hour after the time for the date that had been his idea in the first place. And then he’d even had the audacity to tack on a cavalier maybe another time at the end.

Unbelievable.

He lets out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

“Apparently, I should have been the one to remind him that the fourteenth of February is a calendar holiday and a fan favorite day of the greeting card companies.” It’s so ridiculous you’d laugh if you weren’t so annoyed by the lack of consideration and the not-so-subtle blame he’d tried to shift on you. “Even though I did double check if he was sure about meeting up today, I guess I didn’t realize I actually needed to spell out ‘Valentine’s Day’ for him.”

The man across from you doesn’t bother holding back the less than impressed look on his face. And you decide you like that about him, that he wears his thoughts so openly. It’s refreshing.

“Do you mind if I take a look at his profile?”

You shrug and pass your phone over. You were planning on blocking West the second you had a moment anyways. You see him roll his eyes and guess it has something to do with the amount of shirtless gym selfies.

He snorts as he scrolls, “Please, his mustache has nothing on mine.”

An amused laugh escapes you. “Are we ranking mustaches now? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry to say that I’d have to give it to Selleck.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes good-naturedly, as he hands you back your phone. “But am I at least a close second?” There’s no mistaking the flirtatious tone in his voice.

You hum and take full advantage of the opportunity to look at him unabashedly, mapping the contours of his face because you can.

To simply call him handsome would be an understatement.

The way the golden light of the sunset is hitting him you catch some sunkissed strands in those soft looking waves of his hair. There’s the beginning of some crinkles around the edges of his eyes. You notice the scars on his face, some that look long healed and others that are still a light pink- like the one on the side of his neck and beneath is ear. And that mustache on him worked for you, one hundred percent.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he lets you assess him that leaves no question as to whether or not he’s been flirting with you. You like the way he’s looking at you and the way he’s easily made you forget about being overdressed and how uncomfortable you were even just five minutes ago. You’re having fun. And while you still haven’t answered his question from earlier, you have no doubt that he’d show you a good time if you let him.

“Maybe not a close second, but yours is certainly up there,” you tease.

He grins. “I can work with that.” There’s something about the way he adds on for now that has a spark dancing up along your spine. And then he sticks out his hand, “I’m Bradley.”

It’s a good name. It suits him. It’s one you think you’ll enjoy the way your tongue will curl around the letters of it in your mouth.

When you give him yours in return, he sits up straighter in his seat, like he’s won a small victory.

You don’t doubt that he’s the chivalrous type, the fact that he’s gone out of his way to come over to try and turn this evening around for you says more about him than any dating profile with nonsense questions and overthought answers ever could. But with a man like him, one who’d swoop in to save the night of a stranger because she looks like a damsel in distress, there’s an answer to a question you need to hear first.

“Bradley, this isn’t a pity thing, is it?” You were right, you like the way saying his name feels. You drop your hands into your lap, as you search his eyes. “Because if it is, that’ll make me feel worse than being stood up did.”

The way the words were sitting out and open on the table between the two of you made you feel vulnerable in a way you didn’t like. But you’d rather know now before anything goes further. Doing it for the plot or not, your ego could only take so much bruising in one evening.

He pins you with a look so serious that you feel it down to your toes. “Trust me, this is furthest thing from a ‘pity thing’, as you put it,” Bradley says, his tone slipping down a few gravelly notes. “Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.”

Oh.

A thrilling rush of warmth courses through you as your cheeks heat up.

You nod, trying to not look as affected as you feel. “Ok, I believe you.”

“Good,” he smirks, his gaze dropping down and lingering on your lips. You didn’t realize you’d trapped your lower lip between your teeth, you release it immediately. “Because you should know, I would have come over sooner- the second I saw you, actually- if I’d known. That’s some dress, sweetheart,” Bradley continues, “Plus, you’d be doing me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but be curious, so you lean in closer. “Oh, how so?”

Bradley mirrors you, crossing his thick forearms over each other and leans in that much closer. “I haven’t had a Valentine in years,” he says it like he’s letting you in on a secret.

For the first time all night, you don’t regret wearing the dress. You don’t regret the ostentatious shoes or the glimmering beaded bag. You don’t regret walking through that creaky door. You don’t regret showing up tonight.

How could you when you’ve just been served the best plot twist you’ve possibly ever experienced? A meetcute you never could have seen coming.

You realize just how close your faces have gotten and lean back in your seat, from fear of thinking you might do something stupid, like kiss him. “Will you stop with the big cow eyes, if I agree?”

Those crinkles around his eyes deepen, “Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.”

You press your lips together trying to hide your smile, all too thoroughly charmed, but the corners of your mouth curl up all the same.

“Trust me, you have plenty.”

And Bradley’s own smile gets even wider.

Anyone in the bar can see how pleased with himself he is at your words. It rolls off of him in steady waves and swirls around your shins and ankles.

He makes a show of settling further into his seat, now that it is officially his seat. “What’re we thinking? One milkshake, two straws?”

You play along and pretend to ponder the offer for a moment. “That seems more like a second date type of activity, does it not?”

“You’re right, something to look forward to for next time,” he responds, not missing a beat. “So, can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

There wasn’t a menu or anything on the table when you sat down, so you aren’t sure what all is offered here. You thought you might have caught a glimpse of a laminated stack near register when you’d first walked in, but you hadn’t wanted to draw any more attention to yourself at the time by getting up again and wandering around and reminding people just how out of place you’d been.

You look around and see a mix of ceramic steins, pint glasses, beer bottles, and a few stems of wine on tabletops and in the hands of the other patrons.

The noise of the bar had become a faint white noise in your ears as the two of you talked, but it comes back in full force now.

“If they have rosé, I’d take a glass of that.” It isn’t hard to miss the hesitation in your voice, feeling a little silly defaulting to your usual go-to. You don’t imagine they go through a ton of pink wine here. “But, uhm, anything on tap would be fine too, if they don’t.”

Bradley’s lips twitch up. Not in a smirk, but something caught between amused and something else you can’t quite describe.

You try not to fidget under his warm gaze, “What?”

He slides out of his stool and rounds the table, setting a big hand on the armrest near your elbow, “There’s something you should know about me, sweetheart.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, more than a little breathlessly. Feeling a little high off of the smell of his leather and vanilla cologne, and something underneath that that reminds you of kerosene in a way that makes you want to breathe him in even more.

Bradley dips down close, his lips just a whisper from your ear, and murmurs, “Pink is my favorite color.”

Your head tips back on its own as you laugh. Its unabashedly loud and bright and delighted thing that fills the nooks and crannies of the corner you’d tucked yourself away into. And if a few heads turn your way because of it, that’s alright with you.

You don’t believe him, not one little bit. But that’s part of the fun. The back and forth, the flirting, the banter, the teasing. He’s so quickly turned this night around for you, you already know your cheeks are going to hurt by the end of it.

The sound of Bradley’s own laughter chases after yours. It’s warm and raspy and boyish, and you like the sound of it. You like him.

“One rosé, coming up,” he says, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before he steps out of your space. “There’s nothing I like more than a girl who commits to a theme.”

You catch his wrist, his skin warm under your palm. “Wait, what’s it really?”

“Red,” Bradley says, then gives you a slow once over, making your pulse spark in your veins. “But you’ve got me second guessing myself now.” He gives you a wink and then heads towards the bar.

You watch stunned as he saunters away, admiring the way the light wash jeans he’s wearing form to his long legs, before taking a moment to send a string of words punctuated with more than a few exclamation points to the group chat.

When he comes back, only a few minutes later, he has glass of familiar pink wine in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. And oddly enough, a straw tucked into the pocket on his shirt.

“It’s almost a perfect match,” he notes, when he sets it in front of you.

“At least I won’t have to worry about staining if I end up spilling on myself.”

Bradley chuckles and moves his stool in closer to yours, sitting back down with more smooth grace than a man with his build has any right to move. He tips the neck of his beer towards you, and you lightly tap your wine glass against it.

You take a sweet sip. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, with a teasing lift of his eyebrow.

“What’s your move?” you ask, running a glossy tipped finger around the rim of your wineglass.

“My move?” And there’s that grin again, one he doesn’t try to hide as he takes a sip of his own.  “‘m pretty sure I’ve been showing you my moves since I sat down. I’ve never been good at being subtle.”

Bradley pulls the straw from his pocket and taps it a few times against the shellacked woodgrain table top. He takes the flimsy wrapper carefully starts twisting it, a little furrow of concentration forms between his brows, spiraling it until it’s pulled taut against itself.  

You set an elbow on the edge, resting your chin on your hand as you study him. “But what’s the big move? I know you have one,” you press further.

His hands are big, calloused and rough, but capable. You want to know the story behind the scar that’s near the base of his thumb. You note that he wears his watch on the right instead of the left, and you pocket that new discovery for yourself the way a kid enthusiastically collects rocks in a park.

Bradley takes that piece of paper and folds it in half before twisting it again.

You watch in fascination as that pleased grin transforms into a confident smirk, like he’s enjoying even just the thought of showing you his big move. He looks like good trouble.

Bradley’s eyes slowly lift to yours, his hands pausing whatever he’s doing with that wrapper. He shoots a thumb to the left towards the end of the oval shaped bar. “You see that piano over there?”

“Mhm.” It’s an almost purr.

“That’s my big move.”

You feel your eyebrows lift in surprise. Bradley gave off such hometown golden boy vibes, you’d never have expected that he’d be the musical type too. The idea of seeing those hands fly over a set of black and white piano keys made your stomach tighten deliciously in anticipation.

“Am I going to get to see it?”

His gaze is steady on you when he replies, “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll show you my move.”

A grin stretches across your face and you feel downright giddy, as you wiggle your shoulders in triumph.

Bradley shakes his head amused, and then refocuses his efforts on the task he’d started with the straw wrapper. He struggles only for a moment- those large fingers getting in the way- as he tries to open the end just enough to slip the tail though. He gives it one more final twist, securing the loop, before inspecting his handiwork.

“Now, since we’re valentines and all, it seemed only fitting that I get you- well, make you- a little something.” Bradley gives you a soft, boyish smile as he holds out his palm towards you, and in the center of it is a perfectly crafted paper ring. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you a Ring Pop on short notice.”

The words escape you for a moment at the sheer sweetness of the gesture.

Gently, you take it from his outstretched hand, and slip it onto the pointer finger of your right hand, adjusting it with care until you have it situated just right.

“I usually wouldn’t be able to accept something so grand on a first date. But for you, I’ll make an exception,” you say, liltingly. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You look down to appreciate it again, more than a little tempted to take it off and tuck it securely into your purse for safekeeping. For as much as you liked your dress and bag and your shoes, that little paper ring was now your favorite piece of the outfit you were wearing.

When you glance back up at him, his cheeks have the faintest pink hue to them. The little nonchalant shrug he tries to give you does nothing to hide how pleased he looks. “I make a mean daisy chain too. We might have to wait a couple months for Spring, but I’m good for it.”

Your mind flashes with an image of you and him in a park with a picnic basket sat between the two of you, and those large hands of his threading celery green stems together. It’s a pretty picture.

“Well, aren’t you just a regular modern day Renaissance man.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he rasps, silky smooth. It makes goosebumps raise along your arms. “Now, I’ve told you mine. Can’t say I’m not dying to know what your big move is. Am I going to get to see it, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you muse, lifting your glass to take another sip, “If you’re good.”

Bradley hooks a foot under you stool and tugs you just a few inches closer. “Just out of curiosity, what’s your position on kissing on a first date?”

You bend forward towards him and think you hear his breath hitch, you smile. “I’ll keep you posted.”

You’re still looking at his lips when a shout from across the bar startles you both.

“Bradshaw!”

Bradley mutters a string of curses and then blows out a breath, giving you a smoldering look that tells you that the conversation is far from over. You’re more than willing to let him try and change your mind about where he lands in the mustache rankings.

You look over your shoulder to see the with the sharp smile from earlier waving your date over to the pool table. “I take it you know, Malibu Ken?”

“Unfortunately.” A mischievous look coasts over his face. “But I’ll get you all the Ring Pops you could ever want if you say that to his face.”

You laugh. “I’m holding out for that daisy chain.”

Another holler rings out from across the room, the same Southern drawl as before.

“Seems like he wants your attention. Is he a Leo?”

He snorts. “You know what, he just might be. But more like he’s been waiting for the right moment to annoy me since I ditched him to come talk to a pretty girl instead.”

You try not to preen at the compliment.

“The relentless type, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I think I’m about thirty seconds from him queuing up “You Make Me Feel So Young” on repeat just to fuck with me,” Bradley explains. There’s a story there and you want to know more. “I know I still owe you the big move, but is it alright if I try to show off a little for you now? Just to get off my back for the rest of the night, then I’m all yours.”

You feel like you’ve just pulled an ace from your pocket.

“What are the stakes?” you ask, intrigued.

“Two hundred dollars and a whiskey,” Bradley replies.

You let out a low whistle, trying to school the catlike grin that wants to overtake your face. “That’s a lot of Ring Pops.”

The corners of his mouth curl up. “I was thinking dinner for our third date,” he says. “I’m buying for our second, of course. But it’s only right that we split the spoils of war.”

The sound of a brass band rings out over the staticky speakers and Bradley hangs his head down and lets out a long-suffering groan. You playfully pat his shoulder in faux commiseration.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, but you already know your answer. “Okay,” you agree, “Just as long as you’re okay with a little respectful ogling. You like my dress, and I like those jeans you’re wearing.”

He laughs, it’s a throaty rich sound. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

You gather for you purse and sweater as Bradley stands. His hands come to your waist, helping you off the chair, your bodies closer than close. It’s a forward move- he knows it, you know it- but with him, you don’t mind at all.

Bradley offers you his hand and you take it in yours; his fingers slip between yours easily like the two of you have already done this before.  

The two of you only make it a few steps before you tug on his hand, waiting until he looks at you from over his shoulder before asking, with a lifted brow, “Bradley Bradshaw?”

He huffs out a not-so-exasperated sigh, “I blame it on the 80’s.”

“Whatever you say, Brad-Brad.” It’s the one and only time you’re ever going to say it, you decide. You like saying his name too much to shorten it. And his back may be turned to you now, but that now familiar chuckle still makes its way to your ears.

Bradley leads you to the bar first, where he buys another glass of rosé and a beer for himself. When you try to pass your credit card to the woman behind the counter, he takes it, and rasps into your ear, “Let me.”

He tucks it right back into your purse as the sound of brass instruments starts up yet again.

“Like a dog with a goddamn bone,” you hear him mumble. And you press your lips together to keep from laughing. Sure, you’d rather be seeing his big move, but you can’t claim not to be amused by all of this.

He nods to a group of people in the corner near the popcorn machine when the two of you enter the alcove with pool table. Some of his other friends of his you assume.

You send them a little wave, one that they return in greeting. You can tell they’re curious, but you’re grateful when they resume their conversation instead of making you feel like your date with Bradley had become a spectator sport for their viewing entertainment.

The first thing Bradley does is introduce you to his friend. It’s a little thing, but he does it without prompt or awkwardly leaving you to take the initiative yourself. You appreciate the way he is still prioritizing your comfort the way he’s been doing it since he first sat down across from you.

The second thing he does is pull out a chair for you. Not with a fanfare, not with a flourish. But like it’s something that’s innately ingrained in him. You get the sense that the gentleman thing isn’t an act with him, it’s who he is.

Jake rests a hip against the table. “Sorry to interrupt your date, but Bradshaw and I had some unfinished business.”

You wave him off, it’s not a big deal. Not when you’ll have the rest of the night with Bradley. Plus, you’re eager to watch this play out between them, curious about their gameplay.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with,” Bradley rumbles, as he arranges the balls in the rack. And you wonder if he lost the lag before he’d made his way over to your table for one.

He comes back over to you, and leans on the ledge next to you as he chalks his cue. You’d thought about slipping your sweater back on, with the outside chill pressing against the line of glass windows at your back, but Bradley had more than enough warmth radiating off of him that you didn’t need to.

“You that eager to be out a couple hundred, Bradshaw?” Jake grins, as he leans over the side of the table. He turns his gaze to you and sends you a wink right before he breaks, sending the cue ball barreling into the others with a resounding clack, scattering them across the table.

And then they’re off.

It’s a rapid fire of back-and-forth banter between the men as they take their shots. Mostly good natured, but undeniably competitive. Smirking when they land their shots, and snarking over fouls. Clear that neither of them wants to lose.

Jake is all confident posturing, playing low over the cue with a lightly too tight grip. It’s the only thing that gives him away that he’s not the easygoing player as he wants people to think he is. Choosing higher risk shots that would highlight his ability versus some of the more straightforward options laid out for him, and skilled enough that it pays off most of the time. But after a couple rounds you note he’s too quick to stand up after taking his shot, not enough follow through because he’s too eager to see if his gamble pays off.

Bradley is all loose-limbed ease, clearly comfortable in both his skin and at the table. You can tell he’s probably playing quicker than he normally does, clearly trying to hurry up the game for your sake, even though he doesn’t need to. Although he does take his time as he positions himself around the table, only adjusting his bridge every now and then. Always with a 1-2 shot, a warm-up stroke followed by a steady hit. Watching him you catch his tendency to throw out his elbow of the follow through.

The two are pretty well matched in skill, you observe with keen eyes, as the balls skate across the Top Gun insignia, against the rails, and into pockets.

When Bradley’s not up to play, he’s by your side, right at your elbow. And when he is, it’s your eyes he’s looking into the moment he stands back up, seeking out your reaction. But more than once you feel his eyes on you as you watch them play.

True to your word, you to admire him in those snug fitting jeans. And when he catches your appreciative gaze, he sends you a wink before lining up his next shot.

Jake sinks another solid into the pocket he’d called only moments ago, and turns his dimpled smile at you, “You still sure about your date with the old man, chickadee? I bet I could show him up in that department too.”

The way he says it, you know he’s just teasing, probably just to rile you date up and get a reaction from him.

“Unfortunately for you, I think I have a thing for mustaches now,” you toss back, unbothered. And Bradley smiles into his drink.

You watch as Jake lines up his next shot and hits the white with a compact stroke.

“Double hit,” you declare.

“Dammit,” Jake curses.

You look over to see Bradley looking at you with a focused look on his face. Like there’s a theory clicking into place, one he needs the answer to. Wordlessly, he hands you the cue.

“You sure?” you ask.

“Two hundred dollars sure,” he states.

You take it from him with a sly grin.

Bradley’s thighs brush against the front of your knees, you know if you parted them even a couple inches, that he’d fit just right between them. His hands landing on your waist again as he assists you off the stool you’ve been perched on. And you’re starting to think he just likes an excuse to touch you, not that he needs one because you already more than like the feel of his hands on your body.

You walk the pool table, running a finger around the rails as you do. Evaluating the balls on the table like they’re chess pieces. The slow clip of your heels on the floor like the tick of a clock as you take your time deciding your approach.

“You’re the stripes,” Jake offers helpfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll even let you have a free shot.”

And you can’t help but laugh because this is going to be fun.

“Bradley?” you ask, leisurely chalking your cue.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Do you mind?” You gesture to the spot behind you, and he catches on quick with a not-so-subtle glance at the short hem of your skirt.

He sets his beer down and comes to stand behind you, there’s just enough space between the two of you that you don’t have to worry about hitting him with the cue, his broad from proving you the coverage you needed to bend over the table. While you don’t think you’d mind Bradley seeing the silk thong you had on underneath your dress, you weren’t exactly up for flashing the whole bar.

You haven’t played in a while, but it’s a muscle memory at this point, as you map out your moves. Seeing the lines and angles and arcs in your mind’s eye before anchoring your bridge.

You look at Bradley from over your shoulder, only to see his eyes are trained on the ceiling with his tongue pressed against his cheek. A gentleman, albeit not an unaffected one. A tendril of smokey gratification curls its way along your spine. You turn your head back to the pool table looking between the cue, target, cue ball, target.

It’s a smooth stroke with a satisfying crack. A clean three-rail shot that lands the striped five into the pock you’d intended for it.

“Damn” is all Jake says. His eyes you up, clearly impressed.

“You sure about that free shot, Jake?” You stand up and smooth out your dress, just for the show of it. “Or do you want to make it double or nothing instead, Malibu Ken?” You hear Bradley snort from behind you.

And just like you thought, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, “Deal.” Jake turns to Bradley. “I just let your girl hustle me, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Bradley says with a grin, but his eyes are on you.

Neither are surprised when you sink your next shot too. The six sailing into the left corner pocket.

On your next shot, you may or may not deliberately foul. A tactical choice that sets Jake up with a less than ideal position on the table, knowing it’ll be a difficult shot for him to make.

“Now you’re just toying with me, aren’t you?” Jake grouses.

You just smile and take a sip of the rosé that Bradley hands you, neither confirming or denying.

Surprisingly, he banks it.  But his good luck only lasting through that one play. Because on his next, the ball glances off the side rail at too acute an angle to reach the intended pocket and he groans.

Not quite ready to be done, you ease off a little. Enough that they both know you’re going easy on him to extend the game longer, just so that he can catch up to you.

But soon enough, soon there’s only your eight ball left on the table.

“Looks like you’re about to be out four hundred dollars, Jake,” you say with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Just put me out of my misery already.”

You turn to Bradley, who has been carefully positioning himself behind you the whole time. You hold out the cue to him and ask, “Do you want the honors?”

He shakes his head. “Go on, finish him off, sweetheart. I’m enjoying the show.”

And when your final ball tips into the side pocket, Jakes resounding groan is drown out by the whistle Bradley lets loose between his thumb and pointer finger, as you turn towards him beaming.

“The atm’s by the restroom.” Bradley sounds only too happy to remind Jake as he closes the gap between the two of you.

You look over his wide shoulder, “As for the whiskey, something expensive please, Malibu Ken.”

Jake huffs a grumble but nods all the same as he goes to round up your winnings.

“Scored four hundred dollars and a valentine, that’s not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” you preen to Bradley.

“Think that might have been the best thing I’ve seen all year,” Bradley announces. “The hottest too, if I’m being honest.” You feel your cheeks heat under his gaze. His finger slips under the thin strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder somewhere along the way. He slides it back up and into place, treating it like some delicate thing the same way he did that paper wrapper. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

Normally, this is when you’d rerack, but you’ve never had a Bradley Bradshaw looking at you before.

“I took a class in college over the summer as an elective credit, and it turns out I had a knack for it,” you explain with a playful little shrug.

“I’ll say.” He takes another step closer. “Did you just show me your move, sweetheart?”

“One of them,” you grin.

You don’t have to press up to his height, not with your pearly heels.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his lips to yours for a kiss. A sound of surprise escapes from his throat. You feel the curve of a smile before his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer.

The scrape of his mustache against your upper lip sends electricity racing along every nerve ending in your body. In that moment you are Midas touched, the blood thrumming through your veins feels like liquid gold. It’s unhurried, like he’s been waiting to savor the feel of your mouth against his. Exciting and new as you learn the taste and touch of him. You knew it was going to be good, but even so, it’s better than you could have expected.

“Think you just snagged that number one spot of my list of favorite mustached men,” you say against his lips.

“Suck it, Selleck,” he rasps.

You inhale the amusement of his light chuckle, letting it go to your head like champagne bubbles, before he slips a hand around the base of your neck and pulling you in close once again.

A couple hours later, you find yourself at home on the couch. Your cheeks a little sore from how much smiling you’d done tonight, as Tom and Meg trade words over a plate of caviar on screen.

It was only much later that night you’d gotten to see Bradley’s big move.

He’d surprised you with his voice and the talented way his fingers glided over the white and black keys. An expensive glass of amber colored liquor sitting atop the old piano as he played, and four hundred dollars tucked safely away in your purse.

You’d given him your number when he’d walked you to your car, only distracting you for a few extra minutes with his mouth, before you’d left for the night, hoping that you’d hear from him soon.

A notification lights up your phone, and a ribbon of thrill unspools through you.

You sigh when you see that it’s a notification from your dating app. You’re wary to open it, not wanting anything to color your night, but you figure now is as good of time as any to block the guy who had nothing on the one you’d spent your evening with.

When you see the name of the person who’d sent you a message, you click into his profile with lightning-fast fingers, skimming all the details to things you hadn’t had a chance to learn yet.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 𝟑𝟓

𝐉𝐨𝐛 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥: 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬: 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

𝐙𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧: 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫

There is a picture of him in uniform, grinning to someone out of the frame. And another one of him shirtless on the beach, surrounded by some of the faces you’d seen tonight at the Hard Deck.

But it’s the answers to the prompts that he’d picked, that set your heart fluttering.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲. (𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫.)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬: 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬.

That one makes you laugh.

You open the message from him, one that had been sent with a rose.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞? 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧? 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐩.

You don’t even have to think.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝?

And you can’t help but grin to yourself as look at that paper ring still on your finger. Because you know, this app won’t be on your phone for much longer.

Not now that you’ve met him.

Happy Hearts Day, friends! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[spicyspiders]

Knotting anon 👀 Oh, I’m sorry. I was making a separate request. I hadn’t read the one you’d posted yet, whoops! I know a monster-fucker when I see one

Teen Wolf turned me into the monster fucker that I am today. This is loosely based on the Weapon X comics. Warning for rough sex and self-lubrication.

You awaken slowly, your eyes opening to a dull looking room. Upon looking around and trying to take in your surroundings, you weren’t even sure if the room was the right word to call it. You were surrounded by grey walls, laid on a stiff bed, and bathed in a sterile white light. 

It took a few moments once you were awake for the pain in your head to set in, making you wince. You sat up slowly on the bed, fighting through a wave of nausea. You brought a shaky hand up to your head, wanting to survey the injury, even if you couldn’t see it. 

“You might not want to do that,” a voice said from the corner of the room. The wall opened in the shape of a door before three people made their way inside. The room was already small enough as is, so having three other people in it made you feel confined and uneasy. More than you already did, of course. 

“I’m glad to see you’re finally awake,” the man at the front said, flashing a robotic smile. If he was trying to comfort you, it sure as hell wasn’t working. The other two men stood behind him, a gun held in their hands. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” the man said, a folder held in one of his hands. 

He gave you a minute to respond, but you stayed silent. From where the man stood, the light cast an ominous looking shadow around his head and shoulders, making you strain your eyes as you tried to read the badge on his chest. 

“You can call me Professor Thorton,” he said. 

Your eyes flicked over to the two men on his left and right. A sense of dread fills your stomach when one of them tightens their fingers around their gun. It makes you sink into the bed, your arms curling around your body protectively. 

Professor Thorton raises a hand, the man beside him relaxing. It does little to calm you down. 

“It’s just a precaution,” the professor says.

Your vocal cords burn when you speak, “I’m not dangerous,” you whisper.

The two men beside Professor Thorton glance at each other before their eyes are back on you. How could you be dangerous if you were so easily captured by whoever these people were? It made you think about the injury on your head and the bandage you could feel above your eyebrows that covers it. You possibly couldn’t be with how seemingly easy it was to knock you out and how much you felt the pain of it now that you were awake. 

Professor Thorton opens the folder and pulls out a photo. He holds it in front of your face, silently watching your expression. 

You look from his face to the photo in confusion before your brain begins to piece the image together. They were of you and Logan. It made something pull in your stomach, but you weren’t able to pinpoint if it was nostalgia, fear, or yearning. It was likely a mix of all three, but mainly fear.

Logan didn’t stay in your town long. “Just passing through,” he had said after literally bumping into you one night after he had left one of the bars. After that, he pulled you into a whirlwind romance that went by just as fast as it began. You told yourself to not get attached, but evidently by your reaction, you still are. 

Professor Thorton puts the photo back, but out comes a few others. This time, he lets you look through them yourself. Your fingers tremble as you look through the photos, all of them taken from angles that made you wonder how the fuck you didn’t see the camera. 

The final photo had you thrusting them back into Professor Thorton’s hand like they burned you. You placed a hand over your racing heart, trying to calm down as you sucked in quick breaths. “How?” You shook your head, “why do you have these?” You questioned, the last photo you just looked at seemingly burned into your vision, even as you tried closing your eyes.

You’ve never felt so violated as the photo flashed through the darkness of your tightly shut eyes. The first few hadn’t been that bad, just of you and Logan out and about as you showed him around town. And then after Logan had asked one night on your doorstep, the next one you had was to be a date. 

The second to last photo, you realized, had to have been from that night. It had been taken from an angle to see not only Logan’s old pickup truck, but to also see your bodies close together as you shared your first kiss. Even if by that time you hadn’t had your first date, you still accepted the kiss Logan had pressed to your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” he had asked bashfully, and you had already known from that moment that you were gone.  

The last photo had been taken not long afterward, probably only a week after the other from what you could remember. It had been taken to see through your bedroom window to capture the image of Logan’s naked body on top of yours, your faces overcome with pleasure.

“It seems he took a liking to you,” the professor murmured as he put the photos back in the folder. 

“Why am I here?” You asked, opening your eyes to glare up at the man. 

“Logan has grown hard to control, and I think you can help with that.”

Your anger morphs into confusion. You glance over at the two other men, hoping that they would somehow give you the answer. “Control him how?” You haven’t seen Logan in months, which made you even more confused. Who were these people and how was he involved?

“He’s been too overcome with physical urges, which has been,” he looks over to one of the men beside him, “violent for my men.”

“So you want him to kill me, too?”

“No,” he answered, combing through the photos until he reached what you assume was a file, “When I was conducting my research to try and get him to calm down, the photos of you were the only thing to have a substantial effect.”

You responded with a shake of your head, “I can’t help you,” and when Professor Thorton looked down at you with an unimpressed look, you continued on, sounding hysterical, “I haven’t seen Logan in months!”

Through your hysteria, it gives you a spike of energy to try and move, but only for it to quickly be shut down by one of the men beside the professor. He slams you down into the bed, the barrel of the gun trained on your head. 

“I suggest you don’t try that again,” the professor says darkly.  

You lay shaking on the bed, even after the gun is removed, now feeling hopeless. Even as the two men leave before the professor, you stay on the bed. Your ears perk up to the sound of a light hissing noise filling the room, the professor’s voice louder as he speaks over the noise.

“You’re more dangerous than you know,” Professor Thorton says ominously in the open doorway. Once the door is closed tightly behind him, the hissing grows louder. 

The only thing you can tell about the noise is that it’s coming from the top of the room. It fills your ears, affecting those senses first before you feel a tiredness settle over your body. “You’re more dangerous than you know,” echoes through your mind before you’re knocked out once more.

The first thing you feel when you awaken is a heavy warmth. It makes you think that you’re back home, safe in your bed and under the heat of your covers. However, you soon realize the warmth is radiating from inside you, not like how your bed makes you feel. 

Your eyes open with a whimper, adjusting easily to the dim light in the room. Though, you weren’t sure if the room was the right word to call it with the tall barred walls that surround you. It felt more like a cell than a room, and from the noises coming from the darkness in front of you, you weren’t in here alone. 

You sit up slowly, looking down at the thin shirt and shorts you wore. Whatever had knocked you out earlier did something to your body to make it to where you weren’t cold, even as you took in the cool temperature of the cell. Or it possibly could have been another experiment the professor had been working on. 

You brought a hand to your forehead, registering that the bandage from before was now gone. Even if you were still injured from having been knocked out the first time, your body didn’t focus on that, instead, the only thing it felt was the waves of heat washing over you, one after the other. Whatever the professor or that noise had done to you, it was now taking effect. 

The ground of the cell is lush, soft, and green. Even if it was artificial, it felt real, making you feel like you were in the forest and not trapped in a facility. The soft, cool grass is a welcome relief to your heated skin, making you want to sink right into the ground. 

Heavy footsteps in the darkness in front of you brought your attention back to the moment. Even if you knew it was Logan, it made you nervous. From the way Professor Thorton had spoken, he sounded like he was more beast than a man now. 

The closer he came, the more sounds you heard. Joining the heavy stomp of his feet is the sound of heavy breathing, getting louder and louder with each step. 

With what little energy you had, you moved backward on your hands, trying to keep your distance. You gasped and fell onto your forearms when you felt a warm slickness drip into your shorts. Brows furrowed, you looked down in confusion as you felt more of it staining your shorts. 

You realized that as Logan came closer, more slick came out. Once he was close enough to see his silhouette, pleasure accompanied the waves of warmth. Whatever was done to you was directly affected by Logan, and from the sound of Logan’s pants, it had an effect on him as well. 

Logan didn’t look all that different when he was close enough that you could actually see him. Sure, he looked disheveled, but it looked more like that night you spent together in your bed. Really, the only difference was his hair was longer than before, as was his beard as it blended with his sideburns.

“Logan?” You whisper. 

Logan responds with a growl, deep from within his chest. Clad in only a tight pair of boxers, Logan comes close enough to scent the air, his nose twitching as he breathes in deep. He lets out another noise, this one a rumble that feels as if it vibrates the ground below your body. 

He makes his way down between your legs, his arms on both sides of your body as he holds himself up. Still not completely sure that he wasn’t going to attack you, you lean onto the ground, letting your head fall back as Logan presses his face into the crook of your neck. 

Logan sniffs at the hot skin, his breath puffing out against your neck. You gasp at the feel of Logan’s tongue on your skin, burning wet as it runs along your neck. Upon pulling away, Logan lets out a pleased growl at the taste, his hands sneaking under your shirt. 

You let out a squeak as he tears at your shirt, leaving it ragged and torn, giving him more access to your skin. The first time you touch Logan is when his mouth has latched onto your nipple, your hand making its way into his hair. You arch into the heat of his mouth, your fingers tightening in the strands of his hair as Logan works your nipple between his teeth. 

You let out a moan when Logan moves to the other nipple, a gush of slick leaking from your hole. Even more falls free at the feel of Logan’s cock against your hip, hot and hard. It somehow feels even bigger than it had months ago, but with the slick still leaking from your hole, you doubt you had any reason to feel nervous. 

Logan yanks your pants down, leaving you naked and slick. He sucks in heavy breaths as he scents you once more, this time through his mouth like he’s trying to taste the way you smell. Your half hard cock lays between your thighs, which only grows harder with each passing second as Logan makes his way down your body. 

Logan licks up the beads of sweat he finds on his path, sending vibrations through your body as he groans at the taste. You shiver as his spit soon cools as he continues on, feeling like a lifetime has gone by when he’s finally reached your cock. 

Logan chases the pearl of precum that drips from the head of your cock, his tongue digging in the slit to try and coax more out. Your mouth falls open with a moan, feeling shameless even as you register that Professor Thorton was probably watching. 

Much to your dismay, Logan continues down your body. At the sound of displeasure you let out, Logan seemingly answers as he runs his hands up and down your thighs, like he’s trying to wordlessly apologize. 

You feel his hands move down your thighs one last time before they wrap around the back. You let out a yelp as Logan pushes your legs forward into a position you never knew your body could stretch into. 

Logan grips the back of your knees in a tight grip, even through the sweat. He licks at the slick that’s dripped down both of your thighs, one, and then the other. It leaves your legs wet with Logan’s saliva, instead of slick. 

When Logan’s tongue meets your hole, you’re left gasping from the wet sensation. Logan starts off with slow, broad licks, like he doesn’t want to let any drop go to waste. He licks over the furl of your hole until you’re relaxed enough that he can press his tongue inside. 

Logan moans at the taste, his tongue delving deeper to run along the walls of your hole. The sound goes straight to your cock, making it twitch and let out another drop of precum, the liquid running down your stomach. 

Your hands claw at the grass below your fingers as Logan gets his tongue as deep as it can go. You clench down on the wet appendage, feeling a spick of pleasure shoot through your body at the combination of Logan’s tongue, and the roughness of his beard against your ass cheeks.

Logan pulls back with a gasp, his chest heaving. He moved one of your legs to his broad shoulder, the other he still held in his solid grip. Two of his fingers make their way into the space his tongue just was, going deeper than his mouth could. You couldn’t remember every single detail of the nights you slept with Logan, but from what you could remember, you knew how thick his fingers were, and you knew that your body couldn’t normally take two in the way you were now. 

Logan’s fingers pulled a loud moan from your chest when the pads of his fingers met your prostate. Instead of meeting it once more, Logan pulled his fingers free so he could add a third. Still, your body took it like it was now made for it, Logan’s fingers gliding back inside to finally meet your prostate again.   

When Logan added a fourth finger, images flashed through your brain of Logan fitting his entire fist where his fingers were. At such a large intrusion, flickers of pain made their way through the channel Logan was carving for his cock, now making you nervous to know what Logan’s cock would feel like. It already felt like it had somehow gotten bigger just from the feel through Logan’s underwear, but now, you actually thought that might have been true. It wasn’t like you were going to ask Professor Thorton if that’s what his experiments on Logan were doing. 

Pain was soon drowned out with waves of intense pleasure as Logan assaulted your prostate, the sound of it loud in your ears. And once he felt that you were ready, Logan pulled his fingers free in a slow pull. 

Your other leg joined the first on Logan’s other shoulder, his hard cock still confined in his underwear. He rutted against your ass, the slick of your hole soaking into the fabric. Logan leaned in close, his breath mingling with yours. You thought he was going to kiss you, sending a feeling akin to longing through your veins. 

You placed your hands on Logan’s broad, muscular back, feeling the way his muscles flexed and moved as he did. You ran one of your hands down his spine until your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, your fingers sinking underneath. 

Logan ripped his underwear off to throw them into a wet heap to join your shirt and shorts, the head of his cock finally coming into contact with your hole. Unlike the fast ruts of his hips, Logan instead rolled his hips, his cock going back and forth across your hole. By the time the head was pressing inside, Logan’s cock was wet with your slick. 

You knew the fat, velvety head of Logan’s cock was just the beginning of what was to come, your body bracing itself. What you had done months ago was to get your body to relax to the intrusion, but now, your body is literally doing it for you. 

Logan’s cock bottoms out easily, even as you do in fact learn that yes, it has somehow gotten bigger. 

When once Logan gave you time to get used to it, spending minutes showering your face in kisses to try and help you get used to the girth of his cock, he now established a brutal pace. The only word you could possibly fathom as your brain was quickly being turned to mush from the pleasure running through your veins was animalistic. If Logan fought in the same way that he now fucked, it’s no wonder why the professor needed him under control. 

It’s too bad– or perhaps it was good with the way his cock hammered your prostate, you were the one to test if fucking it out of his system was actually going to work. For the time being, all you could do was surrender to the pleasure Logan eagerly gave. 

The moans and groans you let out only spurred Logan on, his cock pistoning in and out. It didn’t take long before you felt the familiar feeling build, starting in your cock. You tried to reach down so you could get your fingers wrapped around your cock, but at the sound of Logan’s snarl, your hand fell away. 

Too overcome with lust, there wasn’t any space left in your body to feel fear. Instead of feeling fear, your back arched off the ground, changing the angle of Logan’s thrusts so that his cock met your prostate each and every time. 

Your orgasm tore through your body in only a few thrusts, your mouth falling open with a silent scream. Honestly, you weren’t even sure if that scream was so silent, as moments later, your eyes opened, realizing that you had blacked out. 

Logan’s heavy weight rested on top of yours, and what little space he kept between your bodies was used to keep his hips moving. Even if your body felt relaxed and open, you could tell that something was happening to Logan’s cock as it grew bigger and stretched your walls.  

“Logan,” you whimpered, a mix of feelings running through your body all at once. There was no room to run as Logan’s arms wrapped around your ankles to get your legs further down his body. The position was more comfortable, leaving less of a strain on your thighs. Though it was more comfortable, it did little to help you get used to the feeling of Logan’s cock as it grew at the base. 

Logan held your body close, his head hovering just above yours. You almost wanted to lean up and kiss him, but after taking in the scrunched up look on Logan’s face, you instead placed a hand on his cheek. 

If you were scared, you couldn’t imagine what it was like for Logan. You didn’t know how long he had been in here, hell, it could have been ever since he left your town. 

“Will I ever see you again?” you had asked on the final day before Logan planned to leave. You smiled at the man, trying to mask the sadness you felt. 

“I’m sure you will,” Logan replied before leaning forward to press his lips to yours in a soft kiss. A momentary flicker of emotion ran across his face, letting you know that Logan was just as sad as you felt. 

“Logan,” you said softly, running your fingers along his cheek before his eyes popped open, “it’s okay,” you continued, staring into Logan’s dark eyes. 

Logan’s eyes scanned your face, a glint of the man you knew all those months ago made itself known before it was taken back over with the side Professor Thorton had brought out. He cums with a shout of pleasure, his hands slamming into the ground on either side of your body. An unidentifiable noise hits your ears– something sharp. Something painful. 

You feel full, so fucking full, and there’s some sick sense of comfort there that feels normal. Like you’re at home, instead of in this cell, and you just ate a good meal. Or, like you’re out with Logan and sharing one of the many lunches or dinners you spent together. 

Logan’s hands pull free from the ground as you feel his cock throb inside of you. As it pulses and lets out another spurt of cum, Logan moans, the noise light and breathy. 

You turn your head slightly to see one of his hands, blood dripping from the knuckles. Above you, Logan lets out a painful noise deep inside his chest as he pulls his hands to his chest, his hands clenched tightly. 

With both hands now only his face, cradling his head between your hands, your voice comes out a whimper when you speak, “it’s okay,” you repeat, feeling a pang of affection when Logan leans into the touch. 

You pull his body down on top of yours, his head candled between your neck and shoulder. You gasp at the way it makes his cock shift, still hard, and still locked deep inside you. You wrap your hands around Logan’s back, his going to your midsection to lift your body up off the ground slightly. If left your skin touching in yet another spot, making it hard for you to distinguish where you began, and where Logan ended. 

Arms tightened around your body when you heard that same hissing noise, your eyes already growing heavy. Faintly, you heard a whimpering noise beside your ear, and the press of lips to your skin before you’re overtaken by darkness. 

[bbadandboujee]

#BLONDED ASTRO OBSERVATIONS

so after a long day of drawing, it’s 2 a.m, i’m horny, why not do some astro observations idk?

this will mostly consist of synastry & solar return charts.

OBSERVATIONS:

VENUS IN THE FIRST HOUSE OVERLAY/VENUS CONJUNCT YOUR ASCENDANT SYNASTRY: ahh 🙂‍↕️, i have this with 2 of my side pieces!! chile best synastry overlay EVER. this can either go 2 ways, A. they really really find you attractive, they like your style, i find that they most likely like something about your beauty, for example the sign its in, let’s say cancer, cancer ascendants does enhance features like breasts, or big lips (from what i’ve noticed!) or even an hour glass shaped body (body TTT!!) either way, they’ll like that specific feature of you the most depending on what sign its in. B. ok so they MAY find you a bit different than how this placement usually works, they may think you present yourself in a way thats too over the top?? (girl idk men suck!) and i find this weird bc like, being yourself is all that matters so whats tea? anywho, regardless though, they’re gonna find you very intriguing and attractive, but on the flip side they might think that you’re like other people with this placement from what i’ve observed.

MARS CONJUNCT MERCURY SYNASTRY: yoo i barley see shit about this??? but girl the amount of times y’all will be sexting with this placement!! even on FaceTime it’ll be lots of flirting, i feel like the annoying part of this placement is talking over each other? i don’t find it annoying though trust i find it very stimulating..anywho, i feel like depending on which person is mars, the mars person will most DEF communicate with the mercury person first since mars does rule over action. so if you’ve met this person online or whatever mercury person, prepare for mars to slide in your dms idk.

VENUS IN 11H OVERLAY: omg so my venus is in his (i think side piece number 2?) 11h, and omg i did meet him online! definitely this is a friend crush overlay! also, friends to lovers vibes with this overlay too. i feel like its a lighthearted relationship and being friends honestly feels really genuine and sweet, i feel like with this overlay you don’t look at them with lust, you look at them a light hearted love (awe). if you definitely need a friend house person, you’ll have the bestest time getting to know the venus person fr, vise versa.

SOLAR RETURN ⬇️

this was in my drafts so i decided to bring it here chi!

MERCURY IN THE 7H: you will receive some kind of proposal, whether it’s business or relationship related. and if it is relationship related you will receive this from MULTIPLE people, if this is one of the years where you are in a relationship, expect to get proposed too. also a year where you can meet new connections online.

2ND HOUSE STELLIUM: i have this, this year, this just might be one of my best years istg? expect to make a lot of money ESPECIALLY if beneficial planets are involved. and not only that, your self worth will increase hell of a lot. also to see where your money comes from, check the ruler of the 2nd house.

A YEAR WHERE YOUR NATAL ASCENDANT IS THE SOLAR RETURN ASCENDANT: WHOEVER HAS THIS IS SO LUCKY!! this is one of your best years where you’re literally birthing a new project or starting something new, could also be a year where you’re put into the spotlight, achieving something, and fulfilling your natal promise!! definitely a good year for improvement, growth, and just like i said fulfillment.

MARS IN THE 6H: DEFINITELY a good year to get active, loose weight, or just become more healthier. a very busy year as well too. you could be surrounded by men more in your daily life/at work. definitely not a good year to start arguments with your coworkers or vise versa 😭 (edit: BUT IF THEY NEED THAT? GIRL GIVE THEM HELL IDK.)

SUN IN THE 5H: a very fun year!! omg every year i had this in i’d literally call it satire cus wtf was that?? lol, honestly a light hearted year where you’re having fun, not taking life to seriously, also a year where someone announces their pregnancy.

ALRIGHTY THATS IT! hope y’all enjoyed! 🙂‍↕️

[nitadllyss]

Cutness agression ɞ

Hyunjin x reader

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon, Extremely Sweet!

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

Hyunjin has a serious problem with cute aggression, especially when it comes to you.

• For example, in the mornings

"Good morninggg" you said without opening your eyes, still half asleep, smiling when you woke up feeling Hyunjin hugging you.

"AHH, HOW CAN YOU BE SO CUTE?!" Hyunjin felt like the luckiest person in the world for having you as the first thing he saw when he woke up. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and started showering you with kisses all over your face.

"Hyunjin, wait" you said between laughs, trying to pretend you were annoyed.

"Why?" Five kisses on your right cheek. "How can you be that...?" Another three kisses on your left cheek. "Freaking gorgeous." Lots and lots of sweet kisses on your lips.

When he finally let you go, you were dazed from the overwhelming amount of aggressive affection he had just given you.

"You’re so weird..." you gave him a look, but the smile on your lips betrayed you.

• Or at breakfast

You were eating together while watching a drama.

You were so focused on how the characters were fighting over the female lead, dipping your cookies in milk without even looking and bringing them to your mouth, surprised by the plot twist.

Hyunjin felt like he was going to die from love.

He started making whiny noises, making you look at him immediately.

"Babe, what’s wrong?" you asked, concerned.

"I’m going to cry because you’re so cute" he laughed while trying to continue his fake crying act.

You rolled your eyes.

"I literally didn’t do anything..." you said, not understanding his reaction.

"That’s why I want to cry! How can you look so cute doing literally nothing? I hatelove you so much."

Before you could escape, he hugged you from behind, holding you tightly while kissing your neck.

• Also, when you smile

That day, Hyunjin had brought you flowers without reason. When he gave them to you, you thanked him and smiled.

Big mistake.

"HYUNJIN, ARE YOU CRAZY?" you ran for your life. Hyunjin had just whispered, "I’m going to bite your cheeks off." What was wrong with him??

"Come on, please! I need to vent. You can’t smile that cutely and expect me not to want to bite your cheeks" he pouted while following you. He caught up to you.

"Hyunjin, what the hell…?" You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He was so in love it was starting to get weird.

Then he began to gently bite your cheeks, leaving sweet kisses on them afterward.

• Let’s not forget when you wear his hoodie

After taking a shower, you went for the coziest outfit you could find to stay at home. That warm hoodie of Hyunjin’s looked so inviting, so you put it on.

"Are you trying to kill me...?" he murmured with wide, deer-like eyes, mouth slightly open, looking you up and down.

"Huh?" you looked at him confused.

You blinked, and he was already messing up your hair.

"AHGGG!! You look so cute. Keep all my clothes if you want" he genuinely looked like he was about to explode.

At first, you fought him off, but in the end, you just gave up.

• When you sleep

Hyunjin got home late from work, exhausted and missing you. He opened the door and nearly cried from love.

You were sleeping on the couch, hugging a Jiniret, your mouth slightly open, your lashes pointing down, a little drool at the corner of your lips, your hair beautifully messy.

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d kill him for waking you up, he would have already been on top of you, hugging you and not letting go.

He doesn’t know how, but he restrained himself. He just took a picture and set it as his wallpaper.

• But when you’re doing nothing, that’s his favorite

You were watching TikTok on the couch when, out of nowhere, you felt Hyunjin’s weight crushing you.

"AABSSBSBAHJABABAHAJABABW" he babbled nonsense and started biting your arm.

"Bro, wtf?" you looked at him amused. "Can you explain what’s happening now?" you raised an eyebrow.

"BSBSNDBANZ" he responded, then began kissing your face desperately.

"I just hope you don’t have rabies…"

( There are thousands of situations like this, but it would be an infinite post)

•When you’re cooking and he comes up behind you, trapping you and leaving you no way to escape while hugging you.

•When he sees you doing your makeup and can’t resist kissing your lips carelessly, just because your lipstick made him fall in love and he needs to have that pink from YOUR lips.

•When you come out of the shower and he grabs your cheeks for at least 10 minutes, making your face turn red.

•When you sneeze and he swears you’re a kitten. When you wrinkle your nose, he probably fainted.

•Etc.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know. 🙏🏻

I'm just a girl in love with Hyunjin and his cute aggression attacks. 😭🫠

[imagine-you]

If I Open the Door To Heaven Or Hell 4/? [Wally Clark/Reader]

Summary: You confront your scar. Word Count: 2k Author's Note: This chapter contains bullying and how reader died as a result of that bullying. Read On AO3 // Part One // Part Two // Part Three

You hesitated once you stepped into the bathroom, keeping your back pressed to the closed door behind you. Everything was washed in a red glow that lent an eeriness to the scene before you.  

You gripped your jacket tight in your hands before slipping it on. You figured you didn't want to risk dropping it even if it would make things harder on you later. You took a deep breath and forced yourself forward.  

The smell of cigarette smoke stopped you in your tracks.  

"What are you doing in here, freak?"  

You closed your eyes, taking a moment to try to center yourself. You hadn't heard that voice since you were alive.  

"Well? You going to stand there all day with that stupid look on your face?" 

You shook your head, taking another step into the bathroom. It gave you a better view of her. The one who had killed you. The one who had ripped everything away from you, leaving you to haunt the school forever. 

You knew how this was all going to play out. The girl who had bullied you mercilessly for years would end up being your downfall. You should have never stepped foot in this bathroom.  

She was leaning against the wall by the window. She had managed to crack it open and was letting smoke drift outside. It did nothing to cover the smell.  

"God, look at you. What a fucking idiot," she sneered before tapping her cigarette against the windowsill.  

You could feel panic building inside you. Your hands were shaking and you felt like you were frozen to the spot.  

After you died, she had been expelled. You never had to see her again. But now here she was, ready to kill you all over again.  

"You're such a waste of space, you know that? It'd be better if you never existed."  

You didn't know how to react to the words. Those weren't the same ones she spat at you the day you died. She was going off-script, which terrified you even more. Anything could happen now. 

"You can't even speak, huh?" She asked, finally dropping her cigarette to the floor and crushing it beneath her boot heel. "Got nothing to say to me?" 

You didn't know how to speak. All you could think about was where this confrontation was heading and you didn't want to experience it all over again. You had been stupid to let your jealousy and insecurity drive you into this.  

She started approaching you and you felt like you were going to throw up.  

"Y/N!" You heard a faint voice call your name. "Can you hear me?" 

You briefly turned towards the bathroom door, shocked to hear the muffled voice of Wally. He sounded far away and not like he was right on the other side of the door. But you could still hear him.  

Turning your attention away from her had been a mistake. Before you knew it, there was a harsh grip on your arm and you were being backed up into the wall beside the sinks.  

"I think," she started before popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "That this place would be a lot better without you here." She reached out and gripped your face tight, leaving the sting of her nails biting into your skin. She smacked her gum and grinned at you. "You got anything to say to that, freak? Or are you just going to stare at me?" 

You wanted to say or do anything, but you felt like you were frozen with fear.  

"Y/N, get out of there! Just come on. Please," you heard Wally beg.  

"You paying attention to me?" She wondered, pulling her hand back and slapping you.  

It jarred you out of your daze, leaving you to bring a hand up to cover your cheek.  

"I don't know why you wanted to do this, but please just come out. I'm right here for you. I'm not going anywhere." 

"You're so pathetic. No one's ever going to want such a freak, you know that, right? You're gonna be alone forever." 

"Please, babe," Wally pleaded, his voice wavering. "You don't need to do this. You don't need to relive it." 

You couldn't help but think about how Wally only pulled out the 'babe' pet name when he was really stressed about something.  

Another slap before she gripped your chin again, forcing you to look at her.  

"I should have made you eat that cigarette. Got a light? Maybe I can put this one out on that stupid jacket you love so much." 

You could hear someone pounding on the door now. It sounded as if someone was throwing themselves against it, attempting to break it down. 

"Whatever's going on in there, it's not real. You are real. You don't deserve whatever's happening," Wally continued to try to get through to you. He was out there doing his damnedest to break into your scar just to save you. You didn't know how you could have ever thought that Wally didn't want you anymore.   

"Or maybe," she continued, voice low, "I can stick it in your eye. Maybe that way you won't have to see how much we all hate you." 

You felt stuck between her disdain and Wally's desperation. It wasn't until you noticed her reaching for her pocket and slipping out a cigarette that you knew things were about to get worse.  

Suddenly, all you wanted was Wally and the promise of safety he offered. You used her distraction of lighting up again to rush past her, making for the bathroom door.  

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She growled before you felt a hand tuck into the back collar of your jacket and pull.  

You knew what happened next, but you still weren't prepared for the fall. It felt endless as you struggled to stay upright, helpless against the pull of gravity. And then your head connected with the edge of the sink and you were on the floor.  

You stared up at the ceiling in a daze, because you didn't make it this far the first time. It was over before you could even hit the tiles. This was new territory and you didn’t know how to continue from here.  

You managed to push yourself to your feet and glanced down.  

Your body was on the floor. You were staring up at the ceiling, but you weren't blinking. You weren't even moving. There was a pool of blood forming beneath your head and your neck was bent at an unnatural angle and you couldn't take it anymore.  

You felt like there was something sharp twisting in your gut. You had never thought about what you might have looked like on that bathroom floor. Dead. Unresponsive. Gone forever.  

"What are you doing in here, freak?" She asked again and when you looked up, she was back over by the window, smoking.  

You glanced down at the floor, but your body was still there. The scene had reset, but the reminder of how all of this played out was staring sightlessly up at you.  

"Babe? Babe!" Wally was calling, still trying to break down the door.  

You felt a sob catch in your throat before you were throwing yourself at the bathroom door. You were so sure she was chasing you, intent on dragging you back down into the depths of your personal hell, but you didn't dare look back. You managed to open the door and slam it closed behind you.  

Wally was standing just in front of you. You weren't sure what he saw on your face, but the way his expression twisted from concern to horror had you feeling like someone had reached right inside your chest and was trying to tear out your heart. You ripped your denim jacket off and flung it down the hallway, never wanting to see it again.  

You threw yourself at Wally, taking both of you down to the floor. Wally had managed to sit up and you clung to him like he was your own personal savior. Your face was pressed to the crook of his neck and your arms were wrapped tight around his waist.  

He brought a hand up and smoothed it down your back.  

"I'm here," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe. You're out." 

You weren't sure how long you sat there on the floor with Wally. At some point, he had begun to gently rock the both of you from side to side, his touch attempting to calm you as he whispered soothing words in your ear. His lips were brushing the shell of your ear and his hands were running along your back and sides and any part of you he could reach like he was trying to convince himself you were really there.  

"It was horrible," you finally muttered into his skin. "I was so stupid." 

"You're not stupid," Wally argued. "But why did you do that? You know how terrified I was seeing you walk in there?" 

"So stupid," you repeated before finally pulling away enough to meet Wally's eyes. "I saw you and Maddie in the pool." 

Wally's brow furrowed in confusion. "And that made you want to visit your scar?" 

"I thought you and Maddie...," you trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "I was jealous," you finally confessed. "And hurt. And stupid," you reiterated.  

"Oh," Wally said before he seemed to realize what you weren't saying. "Oh," he breathed. "Maddie and I were just goofing off. She needed a friend and I was being a friend. I didn’t mean it any other way." 

"I think I get that now," you sheepishly admitted. Wally had been trying to break into your scar just to drag you out. He was holding on to you now like you were the most important person to him and he was afraid you were going to slip away again. He looked at you like you were his everything.  

"No, look," he insisted, bringing his hands up to frame your face in them. You nearly flinched, thinking about the last person who had held your face. She had only touched you with malice, but Wally’s touch only made you feel loved. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I would never in a million years ever want that and what we have is nothing like what I've got going on with Maddie or any of the others. You're the only one I've been kissing," he promised, his lips ticking up in a grin.  

"Okay," you agreed with a small nod of your head. 

"And I never want you to ever have to go back in there," he continued, glancing briefly at the bathroom door just over your shoulder.  

“Even if it helps Maddie?” You couldn’t help but check.  

“Never again,” Wally insisted, shaking his head. “You don’t know what that did to me. Seeing you walk in there. God, babe, I was so scared.” 

Wally was looking at you like he thought you had died all over again. In some ways, you supposed that was true.  

"I'm never going back in there," you promised him, hoping it was true. "It was--," you stopped before starting again. "And she--," you cut yourself off again. "It hurt," you finally settled on. It had also put things into perspective for you.  

"It'll get better," Wally promised. "I'm here for you and our friends are here for you too. I'm not saying you won't ever think about it again, but I'll do my best to distract you." 

You let your forehead rest against Wally's, taking a moment to simply look at him. The whole night had been a real rollercoaster of emotion and now you felt exhausted. There was really only one thing you wanted at the moment and that was Wally.  

So, you moved to stand up, reaching down to help him to his feet.  

"Want to pay another visit to the tech booth?" You asked, hoping he knew what you were really asking.  

The tech booth offered privacy and a comfortable couch and a place to revisit better memories. All it needed now was you and Wally.  

Wally grinned before placing a brief kiss to your lips.  

"Hell yeah," he agreed, reaching down and taking your hand in his. "I go where you go. Let's get the hell out of here."  Taglist: @morallygrayboys @loudtalehologram @hey-its-roseaurum @doves1120 @benjiiiisstuff

Author's Note: So, the next chapter is already written! It's this chapter but from Wally's POV, because I wanted to show what he was going through during this. It'll be posted next Wednesday or Thursday! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

[xxbrightshadowxx]

The reason why I give Caitvi more crap for when Caitlyn hit Vi with the rifle then when Ekko beat up Jinx on the bridge and how they tried to kill each other is because of the couple’s circumstances.

Ekko and Jinx were on opposite sides of a conflict. Jinx worked for Silco and Ekko was trying to takedown shimmer. They were enemies. Jinx was already known at that time to kill firelights, why would they not like each other? And with the situation at the bridge, Jinx killed a lot of enforcers. They were already in a situation of violence so when those two devolved into violence, it makes sense. They weren’t in a romantic relationship, they weren’t on good terms with each other the last time they interacted(the shimmer blimp), and it was of a violent circumstance that lead to them fighting. This wasn’t a portrayal of them if they were romantically involved with each other. We even actually do see this in season two ep 7

Then there is Caitvi. Before season 2 one could argue their relationship is still platonical cause they don’t actually do anything physical. While, yeah, that excuse is bull but they were in a sorta-situation-ship at the end of season 1. Nothing to get them in trouble with China. It wasn’t until season 2 ep 3 that we see their first physically romantic action. They kiss which basically establish that they like each other a lot. They were on good terms with each other and were allies. They were working together to take down Jinx. The circumstance that led to Caitlyn hitting Vi is first, Vi stops Caitlyn from shooting at Jinx when there was a moving child on top of her because shooting a weapon when there is a child nearby especially if said shooter is not in the best mindset is not a good idea. They(Sevika, Caitlyn, and Isha) escape. Caitlyn insults Vi by saying she’s just like the rest of Zaun and isn’t different(which is also very ignorant by implying that the norm is bad and evil zaunties and Vi is some exception to this norm) also saying it’s her(Jinx) blood in your veins. She walks away and Vi grabs Caitlyn and asks why are you the one acting like her. Eight seconds pass before Caitlyn hits Vi in the stomach with her gun before leaving her alone.

Caitlyn and Vi were on good terms with each before this incident. Hell, before they even attack Jinx they fucking kiss. The violence had already wound down, Sevika, Jinx, and Isha had already left, there was no need for violence. It wasn’t a life or death situation. Caitlyn had no need to hit Vi in the gut. Vi wasn’t going to attack her. And if you say, oh you don’t know that, then you do not understand Vi as a character. This wasn’t them fighting, this was assault(since Vi didn’t hit her back). To add the sicken cherry on top of all of this, the show never once acknowledges this. They brush it under the rug and ignore it. Caitlyn never apologizes for hitting Vi or leaving her. They just move straight to sex.

You see why this leaves a bad impression?

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Learning Curves 2 (M)

★ PAIRING: 00line+Mark x Reader ☆ WORD COUNT: 30k ★ GENRE(S): Smut, PWP, just vibes frfr ☆ SUMMARY: After spending Winter break with Jisung's family, you and Mark reignite a friendship that evolves into FWB. However, when the 00line discovers that you've been skipping out on time with them to be with Mark, they aren’t too pleased. ★ ☆ WARNINGS: Unprotected sex. creampie, riding, dry humping, cunnilingus, bdsm, leash, use of spreader bar, iceplay, orgasm denial, fingering, voyeurism, shower sex, blowjob, lip biting which causes minor injury, switch Haechan, guided masturbation, choking, slapping, rough/forceful sex, thigh riding, slight coercion, reader gets train ran on her, free use?, MDNI ☆★ NOTES: I’m trying something new where I link the sex position im talking about because i suck at describing them so i usually try to stay away from anything other than missionary and doggy but thats lame and i want to write interesting sex scenes so if your confused on what the hell I'm talking about during a scene just click the link for the photo lmaoooo. LCpt.1 Here ao3 Link (like here before you leave TT)

You pull the blanket tighter around you, trying to warm up. Your space heater is humming in the background hard at work, but it's still not enough to fully heat up the apartment. You've been complaining about the heating system for weeks, and now it seems to have finally broken down.

You scroll through your social media feed and see videos of your friends laughing with their families, enjoying the holiday season together. Honestly, it makes you smile. You're genuinely happy for them, even if it stirs a little longing in your heart. You had opted out of going home for the holidays, you didn’t have the best relationship with your family so you were more than content with staying home. You double-tap on each post when a notification pops up. It's Jisung, he was going home today and had been begging you to come over to help him pack.

You [2:31 pm] Ji for the last time its too cold to go anywhere I finally got warm and Im not getting up again

Ji [2:32 pm] come on!!!! I dont ask you for anything plus how many favors do you owe me??? >:(

With a sigh of frustration, you toss off the blankets. The cold air instantly bites at your skin. It was a lot chillier in your apartment than you realized.

You shiver as you layer up and put on your good boots, the thought of Jisung's warmer apartment lifting your spirits for the time being.

Outside, you have to be careful with your footing. You cautiously make your way to your car and drive to his dorm. When you arrive, you knock and as soon as he opens the door, you reach out and pinch his arm.

“Oww, oww, oww!” He yelps, rubbing at the spot you’d pinched.

“Do you know how cold it is out there?!” you exclaim pushing past him into the room.

You surveyed his dorm room, your gaze taking in the chaotic scene before you. There were mountains of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, seemingly the result of Jisungs carelessness as he rushed to pack. Carefully making your way through the haphazard landscape, you navigate your way toward his bed.

Jisung ignores your complaints, bustling around the room and shoving a few last-minute items into his suitcase. “Listen, I’m sorry! Can you just come sit on this for a sec?” he whines.

You huff but get up anyway. You plop down on his suitcase successfully compressing it while Jisung zips it closed. He fell back onto the floor with a satisfied sigh. You spend the next few minutes helping him straighten up before finally collapsing onto his warm bed. "So," you asked, settling back against the pillows, "is your family doing anything special for the holidays?"

“Yeah, my grandma rented a cabin for the family get-together,” he says, and suddenly looks at you in realization. “Wait, why are you still here? You’re not going home for the holidays?” He asks eyes wide in disbelief.

You shrug, the truth spilling out before you can stop it. “Nah, I don’t really get along with my parents.”

Jisung's expression shifts to concern. “Come home with me! You can’t stay by yourself over the holidays. It would be so much fun!”

You hesitate, considering his offer. You’ve always had a good relationship with Jisung’s family. They’ve welcomed you before, and his mom cooks like a dream. It feels tempting, but you worry about intruding.

“Are you sure it’s not too last minute?” you ask, biting your lip.

Jisung shakes his head vigorously, a determined look on his face. “My mom would kill me if she found out I let you spend the holidays alone. She always says her door is open for you, and I know she’d be so happy to see you. Plus, it’d make things way more fun!”

Maybe your winter break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

"You have reached the mailbox of…"

Ever since winter break, that’s all Haechan had been hearing. You’d been taking hours to respond to his texts, ignoring his and everyone's calls, and overall being pretty flaky. Whenever they pressed you an explanation, you just responded with half-hearted excuses.

I’m busy.

Sorry, can’t talk right now.

I’ll call you back later.

Finally after several failed attempts he managed to get you to come over under the pretext of a movie night with the guys. You were bundled up together under a heavy blanket, Haechan on one side and Jaemin on the other. The warmth of their bodies keeps away the night's chill. Haechan was working his hand up your thigh when your phone buzzed, casting a soft glow across your face. The smile that spread on your lips made his stomach twist with jealousy. You quickly typed something back and locked your phone before he could catch a glimpse of what had made you light up.

You let out a fake yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “Sorry, guys, I think I’ll have to call it a night.”

Before he could protest, you were already gathering your things. “You don’t want to stay for a little while longer. We’ve only got an hour left of the movie,” Jeno called from his spot on the couch, looking slightly disappointed.

“Sorry pup, I can’t,” you said, walking over to him and stealing a quick peck on his lips.

As you turned to leave, Haechan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. When the door closes behind you he turns to his roommates. “She’s replacing us, isn’t she?” Haechan muttered.

“Dude, relax. It’s late she’s probably just tired,” Jeno replied, trying to be the logic that Haechan seemed to lack.

“Well, she could have slept over here! Nothing was stopping her before!” Haechan shot back.

“Would you two shut up? I’m trying to watch the movie!” Renjun snapped, glancing at them with irritation.

“And I’m trying to fuck, so I guess we’re both out of luck!” Haechan grumbled, throwing his head back against the couch.

Jaemin, who had been quietly huddled under the blanket, suddenly yanked it away from Haechan, seemingly unwilling to share any longer now that you were gone. “Jeno’s right, she’s probably just tired. Besides, how could she replace us?”

Haechan wanted to believe Jeno, to cling to the hope that you were telling the truth and were just too busy. But as the minutes passed and the movie flickered on, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his gut that something else was going on.

—

You were sitting at your vanity, doing your makeup when your phone buzzed with a notification. A smile crept onto your face as you read the message. Once you slipped on your heels by the door, you left your apartment and headed to join your friends waiting in the car.

“Where is he?” Mia asked curiously.

“He’s going to meet me there,” you replied, feeling your heart flutter in excitement at the thought of seeing him.

“I can’t believe you two are talking again!” Yuna cooed, her eyes wide with playful disbelief.

The car was filled with the sound of laughter and gossip as you caught up with your friends, sharing stories about what happened over winter break. You can't help but sing along to the music that plays in the car as your friends chatted excitedly about the night ahead. You belted out the lyrics to your favorite song, your voice a little off-key but you don’t care, you were tipsy and in a great mood. You felt a twinge of guilt for forcing the uber driver to listen to your terrible singing and the all-too-detailed gossip.

Once you arrive at the party, the bass of the music has your blood rushing with excitement. The living room was packed with people on the makeshift dance floor. You and the girls quickly made your way to the kitchen, where the clinking of glass and shouts of joy sound off into the night. You grabbed a couple of drinks and toasted to a night of fun.

It wasn’t long before your friends began to scatter, each one disappeared into the sea of bodies, eyes sparkling with trouble as they searched for their one-night stands. You didn’t mind, you hadn’t come to the party for them. Your heart was set on finding the one person you had been eagerly waiting to see all night. With a determined smile, you navigated through the crowded living room.

“Mark!” you called, spotting him talking with a few friends. As soon as he heard your voice, he looked up and broke into a smile. He quickly made his way over and engulfed you in a warm hug.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he said, eyes roaming over the dress you had picked out for the night.

You turn shy under his compliment. “Thank you,” you murmured, feeling a timid smile tugging at your lips.

Mark turned to his friends and excused himself, allowing you to drag him away. The house was dimly lit but you could still see how excruciatingly handsome he was under the flashing lights. You navigated through the mass of people until you reached the dance floor. His hands found your waist. He pulled you against him, your back pressed firmly against his chest before swaying your hips in time with the music.

His breath fanned against your neck as he leaned in. “Pretty girl…” he murmured, trailing hot kisses down your neck. “Want me to take you home?”

You catch his gaze as you look at him over your shoulder. His eyes are dark with desire and you can feel yourself growing wet already. You turned in his embrace until you were facing him, pressing your lips against his as you nodded eagerly. He grabbed your hand, leading you through the crowd, a wicked smile dancing on your face as you followed him.

Once outside, he pushed you up against his car, his lips claiming yours again. You hear the car beep as he fumbles with his keys to unlock it. Your hands tangled in his hair as he explored your body, fingers gliding up your thigh and pushing your dress dangerously high. You needed him now, you couldn’t wait. Glancing around to ensure the coast was clear, you pulled him into the backseat of the car, the tinted windows providing the perfect level of privacy.

Unbeknownst to you, another car had been watching you since they pulled up nearby. Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, and Jaemin were inside, their eyes locked onto the scene unfolding before them.

Renjun had given everyone a pep talk on the drive here about finding someone to hook up with to distract from thoughts of you. Renjun had put the car in park when he saw you stumbling across the street.

“Is that Jisung’s cousin?” Renjun asked, squinting at the sight before him.

“Where?” Haechan perked up, looking up from his phone.

“So that's where she’s been?” Jaemin questioned.

“No way, maybe they’re just friends,” Jeno said, but he quickly corrected himself. “Or not,” he muttered, watching as Mark pushed you against the car and kissed you passionately.

A humorless laugh escaped Haechan’s lips. “I fucking told you guys.” He says, eyes following the way your fingers tangle in Mark's hair.

They had intended to get out of the car, but now they found themselves watching in stunned silence as the vehicle rocked and the windows fogged up. They weren’t quite sure how long they sat there until you finally slid out of the backseat, pulling your dress down haphazardly. a stupid grin plastered itself on your face as you climbed into the passenger seat.

Jaemin knew that look. You were fucked out and it was driving him up a wall that he wasn’t the one who did it.

“Don’t let this discourage you,” Renjun chimed in, forcing the most upbeat tone he could manage. “We can still have fun, right guys?” But one glance around the car told him it wasn't the right moment for another pep talk.

They had finally realized why you had been acting strange and no one was in the mood to party.

Earlier, inside the car…

Mark was lost in a haze of desire, pushing your dress up past your hips. His warm hands setting your skin ablaze against the cool night air. You straddled his waist and grind against him, the rough fabric of his jeans provided a delicious friction that left you shuddering. His lips left bruises along your collarbone, and you tugged at his hair, bringing him closer for another heated kiss. His lips were so soft, like plush clouds you could easily get lost in—they were absolutely perfect. You kissed him feverishly, your hands roaming over the skin beneath his shirt. Exploring the contours of his strong chest, your fingers trailed downward until they hovered at his waistband. You nipped at his bottom lip playfully before pulling away.

“Are you going to let me have it?” you asked sweetly, blinking up at him with pleading eyes.

“You deserve it, baby. Take it,” he breathed, his voice filled with urgency.

With a quick motion, you unzipped his pants and positioned yourself over him, tracing his tip through your folds, soaking him in your juices. Every brush against you sent shivers up your spine.

“That’s it, baby, just like that. It’s yours, go ahead,” he encouraged, his voice a low whisper.

You sank down onto him with a moan, feeling him fill you completely. He was deep and the sensation was everything you’d craved. You lost yourself in the rhythm, pulling him to kiss you again as you rode him. His hands grip your hips harshly as you take him. His breaths were choppy and his eyes fluttered, unable to stay open from the pleasure. You circle your hips fluidly, it was a trick that you knew drove haechan crazy, you wonder if it would work on mark?

HIs hips thrust up sharply and he groaned. He spread his thighs a little wider and tilted his head back. “Fuck,” he groaned, his breath hitching. “You feel so good.”

You were just getting started, you were going to drive him crazy. You slam your hips down hard, a sharp contrast of the precise movements a moment ago. You bounce on his cock roughly, grinding down hard when his hips meet yours. You leaned back on his knees for leverage and continued to ride him. His hands try to hold your hips still. He needed a moment, he didn't want to cum yet.

“Let go, baby, I got you,” you whispered, determined to push him to the brink.

He shook his head, desperation lacing his voice. “Not yet, I can’t.”

The next moment he's pulling you off of him. He was strong and despite your best efforts you couldn't stop him from switching your positions. He had pinned you down on your back, legs over his waist and lips pressed against yours. He needed a moment to catch his breath and he could tell from the look in your eyes you weren't going to give him one unless he took control.

“Be a good girl and do what I say,” he warned.

You nodded obediently. You would do whatever he wanted to get him back inside of you, you didn't care. “Keep those legs open,” he instructed, then finally pushed inside you.

You bite back a loud moan as he thrusts into you. His face was buried in your neck as he drove himself into you deeper and deeper. Your head was hitting the car door with each thrust but you were too far gone to care. You wrapped your legs tight around his waist and pulled him into you with each thrust. You were close and with a few more sharp thrusts you were spilling all over him and dripping down the leather seats of his car.

“Look at you, making such a mess,” Mark moaned, his grip tightening on your cheeks as he opened your mouth. “Dirty fucking girl,” he whispered before spitting into your mouth. His pointer and middle finger rest against your tongue as he makes sure you swallow it before hooking his fingers into your mouth. He fucks you like that, eyes glazed over as he watches you suck against his fingers

His hips grow erratic, the sight of you, saliva dripping down your face and pussy spasming around his cock in overstimulation pushed him over the edge. He came deep inside of you and watched the cum drip as he pulled out.

When you eventually slipped out of the car, a stupid smile plastered itself across your face. Clenching your legs tight, you tried to hold him inside as you settled into the passenger seat. Little did you know, four pairs of eyes were still watching from the distant shadows.

—

"So, where did you and Mark run off to last night?" Yuna asks, flanked by your other friends, Mia, Chenle, and Yang Yang, as you make your way to the library.

“A true lady never kisses and tells,” you respond, lifting your chin defiantly.

“Except you’re not a lady, you’re a whore,” Mia elbows you playfully. “Now spill! What’s going on with you and Mark? Last I checked, you ghosted him.”

“You guys are so nosy,” you roll your eyes.

“Stop acting like it’s not killing you to keep this a secret,” Chenle urges.

You huff, feigning annoyance. “Fine! Since you guys won’t stop hounding me…”

A chorus of cheers and laughter erupts from the group, and you can’t help but smile shyly.

“We started talking again over winter break, during Jisung’s family vacation.”

“Wait, he was there?” Chenle asks, surprised.

“Duh, idiot. It’s called a family vacation for a reason,” Yang Yang retorts, shoving Chenle lightly.

As the group grows increasingly chaotic, you near the library. “Alright, guys, I’ll tell you everything later, but for now, shoo! I’m meeting Mark at the library.”

A chorus of teasing “ooohs” rings out as you wave them away like pesky flies.

When you arrived with Jisung to spend the holidays with his family, you were completely surprised to see Mark roll in later that day. You hadn’t expected Mark to be there. You should have anticipated it, given that they’re cousins, but it totally slipped your mind. At first, it was awkward given the fact that you had ghosted him for seemingly no reason, and now here you were at his family vacation trying to make small talk.

You eventually hashed things out and grew closer. You spent the break catching up with Mark while hanging out with Jisung and his family. After the break, you had started hanging out alone more frequently. It felt like a spark reignited between you two.The tension in your hangouts grew, conversations became flirtatious, and lingering gazes turned heated, until one of those moments finally snapped. You and Mark tangled together, exploring each other desperately while he fucked you six ways to sunday. You had agreed to keep things casual, Mark had just gotten out of a relationship a few months ago and wasn’t ready to dive back in.

That’s what led you to your current situation.

It’s not that you wanted to flake on the guys; you just happened to be really into Mark right now. You used to be so down bad for him, and now that you finally had him in your clutches, you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

You're sitting at a table in the back of the library as you flip through the pages of your textbook. You burst into a fit of giggles at something Mark says. He was seated next to you, his own reading material disgarded as he leaned over your shoulder trying to help you study. The way he leans in, his warm breath grazing your ear as he explains the lesson, sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Meanwhile, Haechan, sitting with Renjun at a nearby table, narrows his eyes as he spots you and Mark at the back of the library. “She can’t be serious,” Haechan mutters, incredulous.

Mark is unnecessarily close, his finger tracing a line in your textbook. You catch his eye and share a playful glance, and it makes your heart race. Haechan groans in annoyance at your obvious flirting. The way you're biting your lip and laughing at everything Mark says was aggravating. There's no way Mark was that funny!

“Shhh! Ms. Song already said if she has to kick us out again, we’re banned from the library,” Renjun interjects quietly, shooting Haechan a sharp look.

“Is she seriously ditching us for him? What’s so special about him, anyway?” Haechan grumbles, crossing his arms. Here he was, supposed to be studying, having begged Renjun to tutor him, only to be distracted by you.

“After what we saw last night, he’s probably some kind of sex god. I mean, did you see the look on her face when they got out of the car?!” Renjun says sarcastically. A smirk creeped onto his face, knowing the image he just painted is pushing all of Haechan’s buttons.

“I could do that! That should have been me!” Haechan waves his hands in mock frustration, his voice rising a little too high.

“Shhh!” Renjun hisses again, glancing around nervously to see if anyone is listening.

“Do you even care?” Haechan whispers furiously, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Renjun lets out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, I care, but unlike you, I’m mature enough to let it go! Now please,” he says, placing a finger over his lips in a quieting gesture.

Haechan grumbles under his breath but sinks back into his chair, arms crossed stubbornly. However, his eyes remain glued to you and Mark. He’s acutely aware that the lines etched across his forehead are deepening, and he’s sure he’ll regret it later when wrinkles form, but right now, he can’t tear himself away from the sight of Mark’s hand dipping below the table slyly.

—

You stood on the porch, knocking on the door a little louder than necessary. The cold weather seeped into your bones, and you hoped someone would be home to let you in. You had called earlier, but no one had answered. Mark was sick, and your other friends were all busy with work or studies. Bored out of your mind, you were looking for some fun.

You knew they were likely angry with you, after all, you'd been ignoring them for most of the week. Despite that, you felt confident they'd relent and let you in once they got a look at what you had on. Under your coat you made sure to dress in the shortest silk shorts and a top that was all cleavage and no coverage. Although you were practically freezing outside, you figured it was worth it for the extra brownie points it might earn you.

As you knocked again, a messy-haired Jeno opened the door. His headphones hung from his neck, and a gaming controller was in his hand. He looked surprised to see you, and for a moment, he simply stared. You smiled sweetly and ushered yourself inside as he stood frozen, his eyes fixed on your outfit.

Once you were warm and out of the cold, you looked around the quiet house for everyone else. "Where is everyone?" you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jeno shrugged, putting his controller down on the counter. "I don't know, they've been gone for a while." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to your cleavage again. "Who were you coming to see?"

You laughed and tilted your head, moving closer to him. "No one in particular. I was just bored and missed you guys."

"Missed us, but can't pick up the phone?" he joked, moving to sit on the couch.

You smiled and got comfortable on his lap,your legs caging him in as you straddled his waist. "Are you mad?" you asked him, your eyes meeting his.

Jeno shook his head softly, his gaze locked on your lips. "Could never be mad at you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your face heat up. Suddenly, you couldn't meet his gaze anymore.

Jeno leaned in, his voice teasing. "Why are you acting all shy, little bird?"

You bury your face in his neck. "You're making me nervous."

Jeno's hands moved to rest on the tops of your thighs, and he massaged the skin there. "Now you see how I feel. Come on, look at me."

You finally brought your gaze back to his, and Jeno's eyes locked onto yours. His expression was soft and adoring, and you felt a flutter in your chest. "We have some time before they get back," he said. "Let me have you to myself, hmm?"

You nod and his lips cover yours in a needy kiss, your tongues and teeth in a passionate battle. You hold on to his face, returning the kiss with just as much fever. You can feel his sharp jaw flex under your fingertips as his mouth opens wider and a low moan escapes him. His hands slide lower, resting on your ass before he sits up and effortlessly lifts you. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

He drops you gently on the mattress, and you look up at him as he pulls his shirt off his body. The way he gazes down at you reveals the quiet longing in his eyes. He crawls onto the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile that makes your pulse quicken with excitement.

“Are you gonna be a big girl and take your clothes off, or do you need my help?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for another kiss. You feel playful as you brush your lips against his teasingly. “I think I can manage, but then again…” You give him a smirk. “If you’re offering your help, who am I to refuse?”

He closes the distance once more, smiling into the kiss as his hands deftly strip you of your clothes. Once he's got you naked he kicks off his jeans, the sound of fabric hitting the floor echoing in the quiet room. You reach for the waistband of his briefs, eager to take the next step, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them against the pillow.

“Let me take my time,” he warns.

He gropes your breasts, his hands warm as he teases your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body. With a swift motion, he kicks your legs open, sliding a knee between them, and your hips automatically grind down against it, seeking the friction you desperately crave. Your body is restless and all you want is to put your hands on him, to feel every inch of his skin against yours.

In your fight to keep your hands still, they slip under the pillow, where your fingers graze something cool and leather. Curiosity piqued, you pulled it out, and your eyes widened at the sight before you.

“A leash?” you ask, your voice laced with surprise.

Jeno’s head pops up, his face turning beet red as he processes the leather leash and collar in your hands. He glances between the items and your face, his mouth open, fumbling with whatever sentence he's trying to form.

“Uh…I—” He stumbles over his words, clearly flustered, and you can’t help but chuckle at his reaction.

“Didn’t know you were this freaky,” you tease, arching an eyebrow as you lean in closer. “You like to leash your partners? Kinky.”

He looks down shyly, biting his lip in embarrassment. “No, that’s not it…”

An inquisitive “Hmm,” escapes your lips before the realization dawns on you. “No way! Our puppy likes to be leashed?” you say excitedly. “That’s so hot!”

In an instant, he snatches the items out of your hands, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re just teasing, it’s not funny,” he retorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m serious,” you insist, grabbing his face to force him to meet your gaze. “I want to try.”

The look he gives you is one of pure puppy-dog innocence, those large, expressive eyes reflecting the desire that's swirling in his stomach. You can’t contain your excitement at the thought of slipping the collar around his neck. With careful hands, you tighten the collar and attach the leash, you smile at the dominance you now wield.

Giving an experimental tug, you pull him closer until he’s a breath away, his warm breath fanning across your skin. It’s like a light switch flips, suddenly he's looking down at you, gaze dark like a predator despite being the one leashed.

He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back as you urge his body closer. Jeno buries his face back into your chest, grinding against you, and you can feel the heat radiating from both of your bodies. You desperately cling to each other, hips moving with need, and you realize just how wet you are when the front of his briefs quickly become soaked by your arousal. Heaving breaths fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans that you can no longer hide. Each drag of his hips sends red hot pleasure through you, but you’re growing tired of his teasing. He knows what you want, all you can think about is feeling him inside you, but he seems determined to rile you up. You might be the one holding the leash, but somehow it feels like he’s still the one in control.

Frustrated, you tighten your grip, tugging him away from your chest. His forehead rests against yours giving you his full attention. Your hand trails down his body, skimming over his toned abs until you reach the waistband of his briefs. This time, he allows you to pull them down, and his eyes widen, round and innocent, as you grip him in your hand.

A low moan escapes him, reverberating through his body as he instinctively thrusts into your grasp. His eyes screw shut, and his head falls against your shoulder in sheer ecstasy. “That’s my good boy,” you whisper, a wicked smile curling your lips as pleasure overtakes him. His soft whimper in response makes you feel powerful.

But it's fleeting. He sits back, his leash glides between your fingertips as he pulls himself away from your grasp. He was still teasing and you were growing sick of it.

“Come on puppy, be good,” you coax. “I need you.”

A playful smile creeps across his lips. “You’ve got me,” he assures, finally relenting to the irresistible pull of your legs urging him inside of you.

In the next moment, he slips between your legs and slides into you. You’re so ready for him, slick and inviting, and you moan his name like a prayer. He has missed you—every delicious inch of you. He’s right where he needs to be.

Your grip on the leash tightens as he begins to fuck you with a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you against him with each thrust, making you feel every inch of him. When you slide up the bed, he yanks you back down and pins you in place to make you take it.

Suddenly, he manhandles you onto your side with ease, throwing one of your legs over his hip. His strokes turn deep and slow, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. You can’t help but squeeze him just right in this position, and he revels in it, those dark eyes locked onto yours with intensity.

His hands roam freely, groping and kneading your ass until he lands a harsh slap against the skin there, causing you to jolt in surprise. You glare at him playfully and in retaliation, you yank the leash roughly, asserting control. When his gaze meets yours, fire ignites behind those enticing eyes, and a wicked smirk dances across his lips.

He flips you over, twisting your body until you are on your hands and knees. He's on one knee behind you and the other is bent to keep your leg propped open. He drags his heavy cock through your wet folds, ready to take what’s his. He’s deep, you can barely catch your breath, each strong thrust knocking the air from your lungs. One of your legs is suspended over his and you're unable to do much but submit to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

You can feel your arms growing weak from holding yourself up, threatening to cave under the bliss. When Jeno notices, he deliberately drops his leg, and you collapse into a classic doggy style. Instantly, he pushes your head into the sheets, grinding into you before his hips pick up their relentless pace.

You moan loud and unashamed, surrendering completely to him as he continues to wreck you, his every thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. When you look back over your shoulder, your breath hitches at the sight.

Jeno's chest heaves up and down, sweat glistening and trickling down to his happy trail. His hair, once lightly tousled, now spikes up in every direction, a testament to the way you'd run your fingers through it. The collar sits snug around his neck—a beautiful accessory that seems to belong there. The chain of the leash thrashes wildly against his chest with each powerful thrust, creating a rhythm that echoes through the room. His eyes are blown wide with lust, lips swollen from kisses shared, and he looks utterly delectable. In that moment, you can’t believe how you ever forgot just how much fun you had with him, or how stunning he was, and how he made you feel like the center of his universe.

What was a mark, anyway?

All you can think of is Jeno—crave him, worship him—as he fucks you into the sheets, your body begging for more. Each roll of his hips sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and you moan his name over and over in a chant of pure ecstasy.

You wrap your fist around his chain, tugging him down over your shoulder until your lips are just inches apart, and you kiss him as you cum. You don’t loosen your grip—you need him to look you in the eyes. You want to see every ounce of him when he fills you with his cum.

His brows furrow, and his mouth hangs open, breath coming in heavy gasps as he continues to pound into you. His eyelids flutter and he moans. “Harder,” he gasps out and you can’t help but clench around him. You tighten your hold on the leash, effectively choking him just as he reaches his peak.

He grunts loudly, head dropping between your shoulder blades as he spills into you. The sensation pushes you over the edge once more, and the two of you ride out your high together, clinging to each other as you breathe heavily. When he finally catches his breath, he spreads your ass cheeks, pulling out slowly, watching as he drips from your messy cunt.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs to himself.

As he rolls off you, he takes a moment to regain his composure, and when he does, he goes to grab a towel, gently wiping you down. The soft cloth feels soothing against your skin, and then he dresses you in one of his shirts—a perfect fit, soft, and smelling of him. You help him take off his collar, kissing and massaging the skin of his neck.

Once you’re both settled, he pulls you into his chest, wrapping you in warmth. It was cold outside and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

You don’t remember dozing off, but the soft sounds of movement in the house awaken you later. the guys must have finally returned. You shake Jeno awake, and he stirs, blinking sleepily as he looks up at you.

“I'm leaving, babe. I had fun,” you say softly, laying a gentle kiss on Jeno's cheek. His eyes are still barely open, and he groans something incoherent that makes you giggle before you slip on your shorts and head out of his room still wearing one of his shirts that hangs loosely around you.

As you step into the living room, you catch sight of Renjun sprawled on the couch, intently watching a show he had been raving about. Jaemin is in the kitchen, visibly busy with something that smells heavenly. You stretch and yawn, drawing their attention.

Renjun glances at you with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh, look who came crawling back,” he jokes, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh hush,” you laugh, picking up a nearby pillow and tossing it at him as you pass.

You walk into the kitchen and greet Jaemin, who glances over his shoulder as you approach. “Hi, baby,” he says sweetly, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

You eyed him suspiciously. Of all the guys, Jaemin is the one you were still learning to read but you knew there was something sinister behind that sweet smile. You knew better than to let your guard down. Beneath his seemingly sweet demeanor, he was likely still mad at you for ignoring him. He was the type to smile and say everything was fine while he was plotting his revenge.

“I didn’t poison it, dummy. Try it,” he insists, smiling as he lets you sample the dish. You hum appreciatively at the taste. “This is so good,” you moan, letting the flavors dance on your palate. Then you shoot him with your best pleading eyes. “Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

His smirk widens, and for just a moment, his mask slips, revealing a glimpse of the mischief underneath. “Not by a long shot. You've gotta get yours,” he threatens, playfully slapping your ass.

You shiver at the promise in his words but can’t help but smile at the teasing. Making your way back to Renjun, you wrap your arms around him in a warm hug.

“I missed you too, Junnie,” you coo, peppering his cheeks with kisses. He chuckles, enjoying the affectionate attention.

“Are you staying for dinner?” he asks.

You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin dramatically, before giving in. “Sure, I’ve been dying to see this show you keep telling me about anyway.” Truthfully, you missed spending time with them, and without an early class the next day, there was no reason not to.

Settling comfortably on the couch, you watch as Jaemin plates your food and Renjun glares when Jaemin casually tells him to fix his own plate. A few moments later, Jeno shuffles out of his room, clearly drawn by the scent of food. He plants a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading into the kitchen to fix a plate. You immerse yourself in Renjun’s show and it isn't until you've finished an entire episode that it hits you suddenly.

“Where’s Haechan?” you ask curiously.

“Probably working late on his project again,” Jaemin replies, shrugging. “His partner got sick last minute.”

“That sucks. I really wanted to see him,” you pout, disappointment washing over you.

“Yeah, he’s gonna be pissed when he finds out he missed you,” Renjun laughs.

After watching another episode and enduring about thirty minutes of Jeno and Renjun arguing over the show's plot twist, you finally decide to call it a night. You had contemplated waiting up for Haechan, but it was getting late and you were growing sleepy.

“Alright, guys, I’m heading out,” you say, waving goodbye. They were in the middle of cleaning up from dinner, chatting amiably amongst themselves before looking up at you.

“Drive safe, and get some sleep,” Jaemin calls out while the others wave goodbye.

As you get into your car and pull out of the parking lot, a familiar car rolls in just as you’re about to drive away. Your heart skips a beat when you lock eyes with Haechan in the driver seat. He’s looking at you in shock, not expecting to see you at the apartment. You looked just as shocked until you burst into laughter at the coincidence.

On the drive home all you can think about is how he is so going to kill you for leaving without saying goodbye. You can already envision the annoyance etched across his features when the others tell him about impromptu the hangout you had without him.

—

Mark was over at your apartment, his smile brighter than ever now that he had finally gotten better. You were glued to his side, huddled under a blanket against the winter night's chill. After making hot cocoa topped with marshmallows, you had settled in for a movie, completely engrossed in the plot.

Suddenly, your phone rang, causing you to jump slightly. Mark chuckled at your startled reaction before turning back to the screen, clearly unfazed. You glanced at the caller ID and noticed Jaemin's name flashing. Hesitating for just a moment, you hit the decline button and set the phone face down on the coffee table. A small pang of guilt washed over you, but you quickly brushed it aside, focusing instead on the warmth radiating from Mark beside you.

You turned back to the movie, snuggling deeper into Mark’s embrace. His warm hand rested high on your thigh, fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of your shorts. A smile spread across your face, and you felt your heart warm at his touch. Leaning in, you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, prompting him to pull away slightly and meet your gaze with a smile. He then laid a gentle kiss on your forehead, trailing soft kisses down to your cheeks before finally capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, voice teasing.

“Of course! I’m glad you’re feeling better,” you replied, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Mark chuckled. “I knew you couldn’t live without me.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing lightly. “Don’t let it get to your head. I was really just trying to keep myself entertained while you were out of commission.”

“Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow, that teasing tone making your stomach do flips. “So, I’m just your favorite distraction?”

You laughed, leaning back a little. “I don’t know… this movie is pretty good. You’re not exactly doing a great job of distracting me.”

His laughter filled the room as he pulled you in for another kiss, making you forget all about the movie.

Suddenly, there was a rattling noise as your phone vibrated again on the table.

You ignored it as Mark pulled you into his lap, and the kiss began slowly — soft, and sweet. But as hands began to wander and your chests heaved, the kiss grew needier, more desperate. Finally, your phone stopped ringing, and you sighed in relief into his mouth.

The moment of joy was short-lived when your phone vibrated again. You groaned in frustration, and Mark pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Don’t you want to answer that?”

You already knew who was blowing you up, and the last thing you wanted was to break the moment with a call from Jaemin. You had finally gotten to see Mark after weeks apart, and you would not let anyone come between you.

“I’m good,” you said absentmindedly, leaning in to steal his lips in another kiss.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked, his words muffled against your mouth as you pressed more kisses to his lips.

You huffed in frustration. He clearly wasn't going to drop it until you answered. “Fine.”

You swiped your phone from where it lay on the coffee table and headed into your room, trying to keep your expression neutral.

“What!” you whispered-yelled in irritation when you answered.

“Renjun wanted me to ask when you were coming over for game night.” Haechan’s voice came through in amusement.

“Renjun told you to ask when I was coming over for game night? at 11:30 pm?”

"Yes"

“We haven't had game night in 2 months…” “Which is why I was trying to get that ball rolling again.”

You sign in frustration. “Did Renjun also tell Jaemin to call me or was that you?”

“You probably should have answered that. You know how he gets when you ignore his calls,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “He hates that.”

You sighed. “Haechan, what do you want?”

“I miss you. I want to know why you’re ignoring me. You stopped by the other day and didn’t even say hello.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not ignoring you, I promise. I was waiting up, but I didn’t know how long you would be,” you replied, your voice softening as you tried to explain. “I have to go though, I’m doing something.”

“Something named Mark? We all saw you with him. You know, that night at the party when you thought no one was looking,” he laughed darkly. “I already don’t like sharing you. You’re my pretty girl, aren’t you?”

The realization hit you hard. Jaemin had seemed off, and now you understood you might be in deeper trouble than you thought.

“Right now, I’m about to be your worst nightmare if you don’t stop blowing me up, and what I did that night is none of your business.”

“You don’t have time for me because you’re with him. I think that is my business,” Haechan pressed.

“I— I don’t have time for this, Haechan! I have to go!” Without waiting for a reply, you hung up, your mind racing. You rubbed a hand down your face, feeling the anxiety clawing at your insides. You were so screwed.

Taking a deep breath, you headed back out to the living room where Mark was waiting.

“Everything good?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

"Everything is perfect," you insisted, forcing a smile to mask your irritation. You couldn’t let the situation with Haechan ruin this moment. Not now.

Mark studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he picked up on the tension in your voice. You could see him searching your face, wanting to know what had just happened during your phone call.

“Are you sure?” he asks gently.

“Let’s just start another movie,” you suggested, getting up to grab the remote.

Mark’s hand found yours when you sat back down, squeezing gently. “Whatever you want, as long as I can hold you.”

—

Ever since that night, you and Haechan had been at odds with each other. If he hadn’t already hated Mark for leaving him with a project to complete alone, he definitely loathed him now for stealing you away.

“Don't let him get to you,” Yuna said, gliding gracefully in circles around you. She had practically dragged you out from under your blankets, ripping you away from the warmth of your heater to join her for some ice skating. Winter was her favorite time of year, but for you? The cold, the snow, and those bleak, gloomy skies felt more like a punishment than the jolliest season of the year.

You struggled to keep your balance on the ice, frowning at her as she effortlessly skated. “He’s being such an asshole right now. Acting like I’m going to just get rid of him or something!”

“Well, are you?” she teased, gliding up to you and grabbing your hands just in time to stop you from completely losing your balance.

There weren't many people at the rink tonight; the already chilly air grew frigid as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

“Of course not! I’m not getting rid of anyone. I just want to spend more time with Mark, that’s all. They’ve had their fun with me, it’s Mark’s turn,” you insisted, your voice wavering slightly as you shifted your weight.

“Our favorite little plaything,” she cooed, scratching under your chin like you were a cat.

“Stop, you’re so annoying!” you laughed, playfully shoving her away. You instantly regretted it as you lost your balance and fell.

Yuna burst into laughter, causing you to glare up at her. “I’m taking a break,” you pouted, waddling off the ice.

“Aw, come on! That was hilarious!” she called out, her voice trailing off in the distance as you moved to the safety of the bench just outside the rink.

You plopped down on the bench and let out a dramatic huff. Lifting your bag onto your lap, you dug through it in search of your phone, hoping that scrolling through some funny videos would lift your spirits. Instead, you found a text message from Haechan waiting for you.

Sunnyboy [8:00pm] miss how you feel pretty girl :(

Haechan had been torturing you for the past week in retaliation for you not making time for him. He had been bombarding you with pictures, showing himself gripping what was hidden beneath his grey sweats, videos of him stroking himself, his tip red and glistening with precum, and the worst of all—voice memos. If there was one thing you adored about Haechan other than what he could do with his mouth, it was his voice. The way he moaned drove you wild, he had a talent for begging so sweetly it made you weak and he knew it. In every voice memo he sounded like a slut and it was pushing all the right buttons. You needed him badly but he had to give you a taste of your own medicine first.

Whenever you tried to confront him, he feigned ignorance, playing coy like he had no idea what you were talking about. Over the phone, he would call just to tempt you, making you listen to him jerk off. His mic would pick up everything, the slick sounds his fingers made as he pumped himself to the sinful moans that he doesn't bother to hold back all before hanging up, leaving you wanting more. But when he was face-to-face with you, he acted like a saint, full of restraint. You had forgotten that while horny Haechan was a menace, brat Haechan was even worse.

He wouldn’t be satisfied until you came crawling to him on your knees, begging for forgiveness, and that was

Never.

Going.

To.

Happen.

You left him on read, knowing he would ignore your reply anyway, and made your way back onto the ice, hoping to escape the thoughts of him.

Later, you walked around town with Yuna, enjoying your little girls' outing. You loved hanging out with your friends, but one-on-one time felt more intimate in a way you cherished. You listened as Yuna shared stories about her winter break and showed you pictures of her dogs back home. She was eager for you to meet Menchi, the dog she had rescued from behind a froyo shop.

“You should have told me you weren’t going home for the holidays. I would have taken you with me!” she pouted. “You know my mom loves you.”

“As do they all,” you shrugged confidently. “Watch out—I might just become your stepmom.”

“Gay,” Yuna shot back, tossing a marshmallow from her cup at you. You had found a cozy late-night café to warm up before heading home.

“I’m an opportunist,” you replied, mixing your drink before taking a sip. You had gotten some wine, and the longer you stayed there, the more you loved the atmosphere. At night, the café transformed into a social club, serving up alcoholic beverages. You needed something to get your blood pumping and you were tired of hot cocoa.

Your phone buzzed beside you, and you sigh as you see Haechan’s name on the screen again. Sunnyboy [10:23] Video attachment

"Who is it?" Yuna asked, sipping her coffee while trying to look at your screen. You quickly locked your phone before she could catch a glimpse. You didn’t need her seeing the outrageous things Haechan sends you.

"It's Haechan; I'm sorry. Give me a moment," you replied, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Once you were safe behind a stall, you unlocked your phone and navigated back to his messages. The bathroom was empty, but you still turned the volume down, cautious as you played the video. At first, you weren't sure what you were seeing until the camera angle shifted, and you gasped.

You couldn't see much, just a girl with her head in Haechan's lap, her hair obscuring her face and most of her actions. You turn the volume up a little and from the sounds of the video, it became clear what was happening. Haechan's hand rested on the back of her head, pushing it down until she was gagging. He moaned, holding her there until he finally let her come up for air. The video is short and sweet but you're still annoyed by the end of it. You noticed a message you had missed earlier beneath it. Sunnyboy [10:24] I can have fun without you too dont worry ur still my pretty grl

You shouldn’t be upset; you knew he wanted that reaction from you. If you showed your anger, it meant he had won, but damn, were you furious. You locked your phone and stormed out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Yuna asked, concern etched on her face.

"Nothing. What were we talking about again?" you asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. Yuna wanted to pry but saw the look in your eyes and knew now was not the time.

—

One way or another, you were going to show Haechan that you weren't the one to play with. You wouldn't fault him for going around and sleeping with other girls, you couldn’t, considering you were intimate with almost his entire friend group. However, you knew he was doing it to get under your skin, to provoke a reaction from you. And that's what infuriated you the most.

You had reached out to Renjun to see who was home, and he sent a text back letting you know it was just Jaemin and Haechan. You cursed under your breath, disappointed that Renjun wasn't home. He was the most suitable person to help you get under Haechans skin. If not him, then even Jeno would do, but you really wanted to avoid Jaemin. His punishment was not something you were looking forward to, but you steeled yourself, knowing it was a necessary evil in your quest for revenge against Haechan.

You were determined to get revenge, no matter the cost. You would walk through fire to make Haechan pay, and that included facing the punishment Jaemin was going to give you. You could only avoid it for so long. It was time to rip the band-aid off and if you could inflict some well-deserved payback on Haechan in the process, all the better. You [8:57] my prince wru doing today? Nana [9:00] well arent u sweet Im at home why? You [9:01] can i come thru? I miss you Nana [9:15] Oh now you miss me You [9:16] Please jaem im sorry Nana [9:45] You know your in trouble when you get here right?

When you knock on the door, it swings open to reveal Haechan, casually dressed in an oversized white t-shirt and shorts, a devilish smirk plastered across his face. His eyes take in your figure, and it’s clear he thinks he’s already won this round. The cute pink set you wore just for Jaemin catches his attention, and a flicker of desire ignites behind his gaze. You can tell you’ve got him hooked, but you have other plans.

With a determined stride, you walk past Haechan, refusing to give him a glance, fully aware of the heat of his gaze boring into your back. You get a rush of satisfaction the moment you catch a glimpse of his expression shifting from smug confidence to disappointment when he realizes you aren’t there for him. You can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that Jaemin's punishment is about to be so worth it. Before Haechan can react or try to get his hands on you, you slip into Jaemin’s room, shutting the door firmly behind you before locking it.

Jaemin is already perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for you. His relaxed posture exudes an air of dominance that sends a thrill down your spine. He's got an easy smile on his face that you know not to trust. He sports a fitted black tank top, clinging just right, and loose grey sweats that hang low on his hips as his legs spread wide. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from a bedside lamp creating an intimate atmosphere.

You give him your sweetest smile, making sure to sway your hips as you close the distance. Standing between his legs, you let your hand come to rest on his jawline, your thumb grazing his cheek as he looks up at you. He’s so pretty—pretty eyes, pretty lips, and pretty lashes that frame his gaze perfectly. Behind that pretty exterior lies something dangerous but alluring.

“I love that color on you, princess. It’s my favorite,” he murmurs, his eyes roving over your figure.

You lean down, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. “Thank you, Jaem. I know” you reply.

Maybe he wasn’t as mad as you thought.

“Did I say you could touch me?” His voice drips sweetly, yet the underlying bite sends a shiver through you.

Or maybe he was

You can feel the weight of your impending punishment closing in on you. Instantly, you pout and drop to your knees, resting your head against one of his thighs as you look up at him, your hand soothing the other.

“Don’t be like that, Jaem. I said I was sorry,” you plead, giving him your most pitiful puppy dog eyes.

His hand comes up, cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness, and you close your eyes, relishing the sweet caress. But suddenly, his grip shifts to the back of your head, yanking your hair until you’re forced to meet his glare.

“I thought I asked you a question,” he states, eyes darkening. “I know you heard me, baby. Did I say you could touch me?”

“No, sir,” you whisper, a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.

“Hands behind your back,” he commands, releasing your hair.

You comply, settling back on your knees, heart racing as you await his next command.

“Don’t give me that look, baby. You know I hate being mean,” he says, standing up from the bed and moving to his closet. When he returns, it’s with a box of toys—the sight makes you clench your thighs involuntarily. “You know I treat you like a princess when you deserve it.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just—”

“Busy with Mark?” He tilts his head in question as he rummages through the box, pulling out a few toys. “I’m not mad. Just tell me one thing, does he fuck you better than I can?”

You swallow hard, biting back a whine. “No, sir,” you finally manage, desperation creeping into your voice.

“Then why does he get your attention while I get ignored?” The question hangs heavy in the air, and you know you have no answer.

“Looks like I just need to remind you who you belong to. Get undressed.”

Once you’re completely bare before him, he nods to the bed, and you get on the mattress, kneeling near the edge, obediently waiting for his instructions.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe.

“I’ve got a new toy. Can I try it with you?” He pulls out a bar with cuffs on either side and cuffs in the middle, designed to keep your legs open and your hands bound.

“What is that?” you ask, tilting your head in curiosity.

“It’s to keep you open for me,” he explains, voice smooth as silk. “Do you want to try?

Mind racing, you nod eagerly before catching yourself. “Yes, sir,” you correct, using your words. It had been awhile since you had been with Jaemin so you had to remember his rules

“Hands and knees then precious,” he commands.

As you position yourself, a mix of nervousness and excitement bubbles inside you. You had never been bound like this before. You could feel yourself dripping and you had almost forgotten this was all for your punishment. He secures the velcro cuffs around your ankles, and makes you thread your arms underneath your body, binding your wrists to the bar in the center. Face down, ass up, spread wide—completely at his mercy. A breathless gasp escapes you as you realize just how vulnerable you’ve become, the anticipation coursing through your veins like electricity. You can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Jaemin,” you whine.

"Are you okay, baby?" he asked. His brow furrowed, studying your reaction, waiting for any sign of discomfort.

You whined again, feeling like you were about to implode. "Do something," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he playfully slapped your ass before leaving a gentle kiss that made your breath hitch. The spreader bar dug into your skin, forcing your body to arch in a way that’s almost painfully perfect. There was something about the compromising position that left you feeling extra sensitive. You’ve never felt so open, so on display, and it’s making you melt.

He walks over to reach back into his box of toys and pulls out a blindfold. You look up at him, eyes shining in a silent beg that you hope makes him go easier on you but he just kisses your cheek and ties the blind fold, stealing your vision. The darkness is immediate, suffocating, and it only heightens every other sensation.

You let out a soft sigh as his warm hands glided down your back, kneading your ass. You tense up a little, bracing yourself for the sharp sting of a slap that never comes. Instead his hands leave your body completely, leaving you to wonder what he would do next. You were dripping and you wanted to rub your legs together. You needed to find some kind of friction to ease the ache that was building inside you but the spreader bar held you firm and it was killing you.

You heard the door open and close and you groaned in frustration. He was gone for a few moments and you're glad he came back when he did because you were about to start crying and maybe scream for Haechan to come finish you off.

You hear the faint clink of glass against wood, and then his hands are on you again, cold and wet. Ice. He must have taken a sip of water, letting it chill his lips before he pressed them to your skin.

You gasp as his cold kisses trail down your back. His lips are teasing, brushing over every inch of your skin except where you need him most. When his mouth reaches the back of your thighs, you whine, desperate and broken. He’s avoiding you, toying with you, and it’s driving you insane. You hated this, you would rather him spank you until your ass was raw and get it over with but Jaemin was hellbent on making you suffer, making you feel the longing he had to endure.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe. “Look at that.” His thumb finds your clit, circling it lightly, and you moan, pushing back against him, desperate for more. Anything. But he just chuckles, his hand leaving you again, and you feel the sharp sting of his palm against your ass. He pulls your cheeks apart and a silent “fuck” slips out as he observes you. “I always have so much fun with you, precious,” he says, leaning over you. His body is warm against your back, his hardened length pressing into you as he whispers in your ear. “I want you to myself so bad. I really hate sharing you.” Your breath hitches, and you push back against him, grinding your hips into his. “I’m yours, Nana,” you promise, your voice trembling. He doesn’t stop you, letting you rock against him, begging for relief. But just as you’re about to lose yourself in the friction, he pulls away, leaving you aching and empty. You hear the clink of the glass again, and shiver as you feel him press a cold ice cube against your pussy lips. He holds it in between his lips as it melts and drips down your cunt making you yelp. “Nana, it's cold.”

He slaps the back of your thigh, his mouth too full to speak. The ice eventually melts and you feel his tongue, cold and wet, tracing through your folds, and you whimper. It’s maddening. He’s relentless, licking and teasing, never giving you the pressure you need. You’re drenched, your thighs shaking, and all you can do is take it. You’re his to play with.

You know this isn't even the beginning of what he had in store for you.

“So fucking greedy,” he says, pulling away for just a moment. “That’s why you needed Mark, huh? We weren’t enough for you?”

“It’s not like that,” you choke out, your voice cracking with the tears threatening to spill.

“It’s okay, baby. I like sluts. They always make the prettiest noises when I break them.”

His tongue pushes into you, deep and searching, and you scream, your face buried in the sheets. His hands grip your thighs, holding you against his face, his tongue curling and flicking until you’re seeing stars. He moves to your clit, sucking and teasing, and you’re so close. His fingers dip inside of you and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes at the pleasure. His fingers thrust and curl up inside of you until your body is tensing up. You’re about to cum but then he pulls away and you sob.

“No! Don’t stop, please!” You hated orgasm denial and of course Jaemin found out about this little weakness of yours somehow.

“That’s too bad,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Been spoiling this pussy too much, now it's become greedy.”

He watches as silent cries and hiccups make your body shake. His hands move gently, rubbing soothing circles against your lower back until your breathing begins to steady, letting you throw your tantrum. You feel him loosen the blindfold, and you blink to bring your vision into focus. Tear-filled eyes meet his gaze, and he leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "How’s my princess doing?" he asks, checking in on you again.

"I'm fine," you sniffle, but your voice falters as you add, "Please make me cum."

He chuckles softly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Not yet, love," he replies.

You hear the sound of something being pulled from his box, and then you feel it—a vibration against your clit. It’s the rose toy, and the moment he turns it on, you lose all coherence. “F—oh my god!”

He holds it against you, the low setting sending a heady rush of pleasure through your body. You’re close again, your muscles tightening, but he pulls away just as you’re about to tip over the edge. “Be a good girl just a little longer, and you can have me,” he reminds you.

Your mind is swirling, pleasure clouding your thoughts. Your brain was practically mush in your head and when he leans back down to lick up your slickness, you completely lose it. Instantly, your legs quake, heat pooling in your lower belly, and you cry out, hips pushing back against his face for more. You were close again but it’s as if Jaemin has a sixth sense and he pulls away again.

"No, no, no, no, no!" you repeat urgently, your voice rising in frustration, but also laced with desperation

"It's ok, we're almost done," Jaemin's soothing voice tries to calm you down. “Take it one more time for me," he coaxes, "and I'll let you cum."

You’re a mess, tears streaking your face, your body trembling with need. He pulls off his shirt, then his sweats and briefs, and you hear the soft sound of him stroking himself. He groans as he watches you drip onto his sheets. The tip of his cock is angry red, and the way he grips himself tells you he’s close to breaking too.

He presses the tip of his cock against you, letting it slip through your folds before he’s pushing the tip in. Your throat had grown horse from how loud you had been moaning and screaming. Your back arches deeper as he fucks you with just the tip. He picks up the vibrator again, pressing it against your clit, and you’re so close. He bites his bottom lip as he watches the way you squirm. He was driving you insane. His free hand held firm on your hip to keep you still when you tried to press back into him. You were about to cum but he pulls out, switching the vibrator off, and you sob, your legs shaking as another orgasm is ripped away from you.

Jaemin’s hands move swiftly, the velcro cuffs releasing with a soft rip as he unbinds your ankles and wrists. The spreader bar is tossed carelessly to the side, landing somewhere on the bed with a muffled thud. Before you can even process the relief of being freed, his strong hands are flipping you onto your back, and there’s no time to catch your breath before he’s positioning himself between your legs.

“Jaem, wait—it’s too much,” you gasp, your voice breaking as he pushes into you, the stretch almost overwhelming after so much teasing. Your body jolts, every nerve alight with sensitivity, and your nails instinctively rake down his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself. He hisses, but his pace doesn’t falter, his thrusts deep and relentless.

He doesn’t hear you, only responding with a growl as his hands grip your thighs and shove them up against your chest as he continues to fuck you.

The angle is punishing. Your body arches, every muscle tensing as pleasure builds to a breaking point. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and then—you’re there. Your body convulses as you cry out, your release soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you. You’re squirting, the sensation utterly overwhelming, and you hear Jaemin’s voice, rough and guttural, as he watches the mess you’ve made.

“Fuckkk,” he moans, as he gazes down at you. “So fucking good. This pussy is so fucking good.” His words are a low growl, and you can see the way his eyes flutter, his own control slipping as he gets lost in the sight of you.

But he doesn’t stop. His hips snap forward again, driving into you intensely. His hands move to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it in a firm but not crushing grip. You gasp, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax, and he leans down, his breath against your ear.

“You gonna answer me when I call you? Gonna text me back?” he demands, his voice low and commanding, his gaze intense as he searches your face for an answer.

“Yes, Nana!” you scream, your voice raw and ragged, your body thrumming with overstimulation. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again.

“Are you going to make me punish you again?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, but it’s no less threatening. His hand tightens slightly around your throat, and you whimper, shaking your head frantically.

“No, Nana.”

“That’s my fucking princess, atta girl.” He says, his lips curling into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with pride. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and you’re mesmerized by the way he looks in this moment—utterly wild. Your juices drip down his thighs, and your eyes flicker to the claw marks decorating his biceps, a testament to how badly you’ve wanted him, how much you’ve needed him.

He’s insane, and you love it.

His thrusts grow harder, more erratic, and you can feel him teetering on the edge. His hand leaves your throat, moving to grip your hip as he drives into you one last time. He groans, his body tensing as he spills into you, his release hot and filling. You can feel him pulsing inside you, and it’s enough to send a final, weak shiver of pleasure through your body.

When he pulls out, you collapse back onto the bed, utterly spent. Your muscles ache, your throat is sore, and you’re completely wrecked. Jaemin catches his breath above you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and you swear it’s like watching a switch flip. The demon that had possessed him—the one that had pushed you to the brink over and over—it’s gone, replaced by the Jaemin you know. His eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle now, almost tender.

“Was that too much?”

“Never.”

After cleaning you up, changing the sheets, and tending to your bruises you decide to spend the night. You had no energy to get up and go home, you weren't sure you could even walk to do so. That morning you wake up in Jaemin's arms, snuggled up to his chest with your legs intertwined. You catch a glimpse of his sleeping face and can't help but smile.

You kiss his nose and untangle yourself from the sheets, careful not to disturb him. He's a deep sleeper, and all he does is roll over and go back to sleep. You quietly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen to get some water.

You pour yourself a cup of water, savoring the silence of the morning. The gentle chirping of birds fills the air as you lean against the counter, relaxing with a content sigh and letting your mind wander to thoughts of nothing.

Your peaceful moment is abruptly interrupted by the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by footsteps approaching. You assume it's Jaemin coming to join you, but you freeze when Haechan rounds the corner.

In that instant, you remember the original reason you had come over—to rile him up. And boy, does he look pissed. He watches you with a fierce glare as you gulp down your cup of water, standing in front of the fridge while he remains across the kitchen, separated from you by the island.

"When you're ready to come home, I'll be right here," Haechan says.

“You're talking about what?" You inquire annoyed.

How our little Princess runs to everyone but me when she's needy." He rebuttals.

"You brought this on yourself," you shoot back. "You decided to send those photos to get a rise out of me, so forgive me if I felt inspired to do the same."

“Jaemin did a number on you, didn't he?" he says, his eyes drifting to your skin, where the bruises from Jaemin are visible.

Your face flushes as you remember the bruises that litter your skin and how loud you were with Jaemin. “Maybe he did. But that’s none of your business, Haechan.”

“Except it is. it's a little hard to ignore when you're parading around with marks from someone else."

"Maybe they could have been from you if you weren't so insufferable," you snap.

"I've wanted it to be me, but you're too busy with your new plaything," Haechan says, his jaw set in irritation.

"I wish you would stop worrying about Mark." You whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down from waking the whole house. “What's your issue with him anyway?”

"Besides him fucking me over for my last project… let me think. Maybe it's the fact that you're throwing us to the side for him."

You feel a twinge of guilt at his words, but you try to deflect it. "You're ridiculous when you're jealous, you know that right?"

"Says the girl who just screwed my roommate to get back at me," Haechan says, his voice cold. He rounds the corner of the island and closes in on you.

"Only because you never learned how to wait your turn."

"Don't like sharing," Haechan says, his eyes locked on yours.

"Not my problem, maybe one of those girls can keep you company."

He pins you against the counter, his eyes boring down on you. "Stop acting like you don't want me, if you didn't want me, you wouldn't be here right now."

You glare back at him, trying to maintain your cool. "Well, you're in my way," you say, gesturing to your current position pinned against the counter.

"Admit you want me," Haechan challenges. "Then you can go."

You refuse to answer, keeping your mouth shut as he looms over you. You can practically feel his pent-up desire and frustration as he eye-fucks you a breath away.

His hands find their way to your waist, and with a subtle firmness, he pulls you away from the counter, pinning you to the cool surface of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You find yourself face down on the marble as Haechan stands behind you. His hips pressed into your ass as he reached around to the front of your panties. The soft pads of his fingers stroke you through your panties, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Soaked just like I thought,” he murmured, his voice teasing. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Fuck you, Donghyuck,” you spit.

He chuckled, his breath huffing against your neck. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you clenched your jaw, determined to stay quiet. But your body betrayed you, your legs parting almost instinctively.

“That’s right, princess. Keep that damn mouth closed and let your body talk,” he said. His fingers teased your clit, and you jolted when he pinched it sharply.

“You’re an asshole,” you hissed, glaring at him over your shoulder.

His innocent expression didn’t fool you for a second. “Me? Never.” His fingers dipped deeper, stretching you open, and you couldn’t help but grind against his palm. His other hand slid up your shirt, his rough palm massaging your breast. You could feel his hardness pressing into you, and he rocked his hips forward, the friction maddening.

The sound of a door creaking open down the hall made you freeze. Your heart skipped a beat, your body heating up with embarrassment. It wasn’t like the guys hadn’t seen you in compromising positions before, but this—bent over the kitchen island at nine in the morning, legs spread open—felt different.

Jaemin emerged from the hall and paused in the doorway, his sleepy eyes taking in the scene for a moment before he shrugged. He yawned, reaching into the cupboard for a bowl, completely unfazed. He leaned against the counter opposite you, crunching on his cereal as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Haechan didn’t stop, and didn't even acknowledge Jaemin’s presence. His fingers continued to thrust into you, his pace relentless. He didn’t care about anything other than the way you were clenching down around his fingers as he scissored you open.

Haechan slipped a third finger into you, and your attention snapped back to him. “Focus on me, baby. Why can’t you ever focus on me?” he tutted, his fingers curling inside you. You whined, your body trembling as pleasure coiled tight in your stomach.

Jaemin’s eyes were on you, watching intently as Haechan worked you closer and closer to the edge. The combination of Haechan’s fingers, his palm teasing your breast, and Jaemin’s gaze was overwhelming.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice breathy and desperate.

Haechan smirked, his fingers slowing just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. “I don’t think so, princess. You don’t deserve it.”

“Jaemin,” Maybe he’d take pity on you and finish you off if Haechan wouldn’t. You plead and turn your head to look at him.

“Calling for another man when I’m right here? You just don’t learn,” Haechan sneered, his hand leaving your breast to deliver a stinging slap to your thigh.

“Sorry, princess, I can’t save you,” Jaemin said with a teasing smile. He set his bowl in the sink, pausing to press a kiss to your temple before heading back to his room, leaving you at Haechan’s mercy.

Your thighs trembled, your body begging for release. “Please, Haechan. I’m sorry. Please don’t stop.”

You turned your body enough to pull him into a desperate kiss. You missed his lips, the way they felt against yours. It was him—only him—you wanted. He faltered for a moment, his breath stuttering before he regained his composure and pulled away. He had to stand on business.

“Uh-uh, baby. You were bad,” he said, his fingers slowing to an agonizing pace. You squirmed in his grasp, your orgasm slipping further away.

“No, no, please, no!” you begged, rocking against his hand pathetically. But he didn’t relent. His fingers stopped entirely, and he pulled away, leaving you empty and frustrated.

“Better go find Mark to finish you off,” he said with a bite, his tone sharp and cutting. He turned on his heel and left the kitchen, leaving you alone and seething.

You slumped against the island, your body still throbbing with need. That bastard. You wanted to scream, to chase after him and demand he finish what he started. But instead, you stayed put, your mind racing as you tried to figure out your next move.

Now more than ever you wanted to rip his head off.

—

You had been grumpy all week, and your friends were starting to notice.

Sitting around the fire pit, the crackling flames burn hot against the chilly winter night. The air was biting cold, each breath forming a small cloud of mist that vanished into the darkness. Snowflakes continued to fall gently, blanketing everything in a thick layer of white, while your friends settled in around the fire. Absent-mindedly, you burned your marshmallow to a crisp, imagining it was Haechan melting over the flames.

“You guys see that evil look in her eyes?” Jisung asked the group, bundling himself tighter in his parka and scooting a little closer to Yuna for safety.

“And no one believes me when I tell you she’s been signing me up for spam emails!” Yangyang chimed in, his hands tucked deep in his pockets, shaking his head dramatically.

“Because why would she do that?” Yuna defended you, shooting both of them a disapproving look.

You smirked at her loyalty. To be honest, you had signed him up for all those spam emails, but only after he pushed you into a lake two summers ago, right after you’d spent hours on your hair. Your favorite form of revenge came in the shape of minor inconveniences.

“She’s got you all brainwashed. I’m going to expose her. Just you wait!” Yangyang declared under his breath, plotting your demise.

You roasted another marshmallow, this one perfectly toasted, and handed it to Yuna. She smiled and took a bite, closing her eyes in bliss.

A few days had passed since Haechan left you hanging in the kitchen, and your frustration was starting to build up. Mark was suddenly too busy to reply, Renjun was buried under a mountain of books, Jaemin was working overtime, and Jeno… well, Jeno was back at the gym. He had invited you numerous times, but you had been hoping for a different kind of workout.

“There’s nothing wrong, guys. I’m just cold and picturing Chenle as a marshmallow for dragging us out here,” you lied smoothly.

Chenle rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s called bonding, you ungratefuls. We haven’t had a chance to hang out in forever!”

“Yeah, maybe because it’s been negative two degrees outside,” Mia chimed in.

“I’m having a great time, Lele.” Jisung declared, flashing a warm smile despite the chill.

“Stop flirting,” Yangyang teased as he scooped up a handful of snow and crafted a perfect snowball. He hurled it over the fire pit, and it landed squarely in Jisung’s chest.

Jisung’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Hey! I thought you were on my side!” he shot back, throwing his own snowball in retaliation.

Laughter filled the air as Jisung and Yangyang dashed through the snow-covered field in the woods behind the campus, their shouts echoing through the trees. A stray snowball from Yangyang hit you in the back of the head, and in an instant, you shot up, declaring war.

You charged at Yangyang, who was doubled over with laughter. The others joined in, hurling snowballs at each other, blissfully caught up in the chaos. You took the opportunity to sneak up on Yangyang, aiming to smother him in the snow when no one was looking.

“I told you she was crazy! Look!” he cried, but no one seemed to pay him any mind as they all ran, slipping and tumbling in the soft snow. The laughter, the playful shouts, and the thrill you got from strangling Yangyang made you forget everything else that had been troubling you. Chenle was right, hanging out with everyone was worth it. By the end of the night, you found yourself laughing easily and feeling relaxed.

—-

Renjun had a secret.

He was at your apartment today, just like he was every Tuesday, surrounded by a mess of textbooks and scattered notes. The coffee table was a chaotic mess of highlighters and crumpled paper, a testament to your hard work during the study session. Soft music played in the background and you hummed along quietly.

His secret?

While his roommates thought you were growing distant, Renjun didn’t feel any distance at all. The truth was, he had been tutoring you for months, regularly texting you and making sure to see you once a week since winter break. So when the guys complained about your lack of attention, he just played along. Unlike them, he wasn’t worried about Mark because he didn’t have to be. Mark wasn’t taking you from him, so he couldn’t care less about the “competition.” They had no idea about the tutoring sessions, and he was perfectly fine keeping it that way. He enjoyed having you all to himself, and he wasn’t about to let anyone ruin that so he kept his mouth shut.

Most of the time, you two really did focus on studying and making progress, but there were occasions when things got heated. By the look in your eyes, Renjun could tell that this would be one of those times.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pounce on me when you still haven’t tackled number 7?” he teased, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. He leaned back against the couch, closing his textbook.

“Because I can’t focus. I’m just… horny,” you groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. “Everyone’s been too busy to hook up, and this 8=D is starting to look way too much like a penis!”

Renjun picked up your paper and glanced at it, snorting with laughter. “Well, you literally just made that up, so let’s start there,” he chuckled, handing it back to you as you sat cross-legged on the carpet, trying to find some semblance of concentration.

“It was on the paper, I swear it was!” you protested, dramatically laying your head against the coffee table hoping the cold wood would cool you down.

“Need me to take care of you?” he asked sweetly.

“No, I can do this. I’m just being pathetic,” you insisted, sitting up straight and attempting to put on your best brave face, but it was getting harder by the second.

“Really? Are you sure? I’ll make it quick,” he replied, a hint of desperation in his eyes. Maybe he needed it just as much as you did.

You looked at him, and your resolve just crumbled. You were starting to feel a bit like a whore, but honestly, it was hard not to be when everyone was so irresistible. Each one of them had their own charm and quirks that you couldn’t help but love. They each drew you in making it impossible for you to replace any of them. You wished they would understand that and stop worrying about Mark.

Renjun was the one who kept the balance among the chaos, never demanding too much but always there when you needed him. That’s what you liked most about him: his easygoing attitude. He could adapt to every situation, cracking jokes at the right moments while always knowing when to be serious. He was sweet but firm, guiding you without pushing. With his playful charm and sass, he kept you on your toes, making every moment fun. Renjun was your anchor, the constant in your life that you could rely on. You could talk to him about anything, and he always knew how to make you feel better. He was your always.

You finally let out a deep sigh, and the tension in your shoulders eased just a little. “Okay, I could use a little help relaxing,” you said as the corners of your mouth twitched into a small smile.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, making you think he’s going to lay you down on the mattress but he guides you to the connected bathroom instead. He turns on the shower, checking the temperature and making sure it’s warm enough before both of you start to peel away your clothes. Once under the soothing cascade of water, you let out a sigh of relief.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close for a moment, letting you rest and relax against him. Then, he gently pulls away and kisses you, his lips soft against yours. He presses you against the cold tile of the shower, and you shiver, but the warmth of the water quickly envelops you, warming your skin as the kiss deepens.

“Am I selfish for wanting to keep you all to myself?” he whispers, laying kisses under your ear.

“I wouldn't mind” you whisper back, meeting his gaze before bringing his lips back to you.

The water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet before swirling down the drain. Renjun’s lips trailed along your jawline, his breath warm as the steam rises around you. His thigh pressed firmly between your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as you instinctively rolled your hips against him. You couldn’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“God, Renjun,” you gasped, your hands sliding up his slick chest to rest on his shoulders. His skin was so smooth under your fingertips and you dug your nails in lightly as he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of your mouth as if he wanted to memorize it.

His hands slid down your sides to grip your hips. He lifted you slightly, shifting his thigh higher, and you gasped at the sudden pressure against your core. Your head fell back against the wall, your breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as he nipped at your neck, leaving little marks that made you squirm.

You tilted your hips forward, seeking more friction, more contact, more. Renjun chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and he reached down to grip the back of your thigh, lifting it to hook around his waist. The shift in position made you groan, the angle perfect as he pressed himself harder against you.

“Is this what you needed?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand moved between you, fingers teasing your clit, and you nodded frantically, unable to form words. All you could feel was him—his touch, his warmth, the way his body fit so perfectly against yours.

Renjun’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds, and you whimpered, arching into his touch. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You really were desperate, weren’t you?”

You didn’t even try to deny it, too far gone to care about anything except the way his fingers circled your clit, sending jolts of pleasure racing through you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rocked against his hand, chasing the sensation, and he let out a soft groan, his own need evident in the way his hips pressed insistently against your leg.

“Fuck, Renjun,” you moaned, your voice breaking as his fingers slipped inside you, curling just right to make your vision blur. “Don’t stop… please…” If he stopped you would just die. You couldn’t take any more teasing.

“I won’t,” he promised, his lips capturing yours again in a searing kiss as his fingers worked you expertly, plunging in and out while his thumb rubbed tight, insistent circles against your clit. The combination was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your legs trembling as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you.

“Look at me,” he commanded, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark with lust, but there was something softer there too, something tender that made your heart stutter. You obeyed, locking eyes with him as he increased the pace of his fingers, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it,” he urged, his voice rough with need. “Come on baby. Cum for me.”

The command broke something inside you, and you came with a cry, your body shuddering in pleasure. Renjun held you through it, his arms strong and steady as you rode out the aftershocks, your breathing ragged and uneven.

When you finally opened your eyes, he was watching you with a smug grin, his hair plastered to his forehead and his lips swollen from kissing. “Feel better now?” he asked, his tone light but his expression still hungry.

“Much,” you admitted, wrapping your arms around his neck. “But we're not done.”

He laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “Oh, I know.” With that, he turned you around, pressing your front against the tiled wall. Anticipation coursing through you as he stepped closer, his chest flush against your back.

“Ready for another?” he murmured, his hands sliding down your sides to grip your hips. Your breath hitched as he nipped at your shoulder.

“Always,” you breathed, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled before kicking your legs open further and guiding himself to your entrance, the tip teasing at your slick folds. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

You bit your lip, your whole body quivering with need. “You,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. “Just you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and then he was pushing into you, filling you completely in one hard stroke. You cried out, the stretch and fullness stealing your breath as he began to move, his pace steady and relentless.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust into you.

“Harder,” you begged, nails digging into the tiles as he obliged, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force. The pleasure built rapidly, coiling tight in your belly, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“Cum with me,” he growled, his voice strained as he reached around to rub your clit, the added stimulation pushing you over the edge. You shatter, crying out his name as he follows after you, his release spilling deep inside you.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, panting and tangled together, the water washing away the evidence of your passion. Finally, Renjun shifted, pulling you back against his chest as he nuzzled into your neck.

“Let me stay tonight,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness and contentment. “No more studying, no more stress. Just us.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his temple and nodded, holding him tight. “Anything for you, always.”

When you step out he dries you off and helps you slip on a robe and some slippers. He’s got a towel draped around his hips, and another sits on his head as he towel-dries his damp hair. You glance at him, feeling a lazy wave wash over you; the thought of getting dressed seems pointless when you know your hands might wander again throughout the night.

—

Ringing

Ringing

Ringing

This mailbox is currently full please try—

Mark’s phone rings and rings, but he doesn’t pick up. After a few moments, you hang up with a frustrated groan. You’ve been trying to reach him all day, and it was unusual for him not to respond at all. You had spoken to him a little over the past week but it was always a quick text here or there. He’s always made time for you, so the silence feels deafening. You try to shrug it off, but something gnaws in the back of your mind.

You make your way to Jisung's door and knock. Chenle answers it, looking like he’s about to head out.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“In his room, playing video games. What’s up?” Chenle says, adjusting his shades.

“Mark’s acting weird, he hasn’t replied to my messages,” you explain.

“Ha ha! Someone's getting a taste of their own medicine!” Chenle teases, grinning. He and the others know the details of your drama with Mark and the guys, but you still haven't told Jisung everything. You didn't know how to bring up your arrangement with Mark without making it awkward. He knows the two of you talk, but you’ve kept the specifics to yourself.

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Jisung’s being loud with the game, and I need silence. I’m going to go bother Yangyang and Kun.”

“Just don't go over there stressing Kun. He’s my backup husband and I don't need you raising his blood pressure.”

“Lol whatever,” Chenle laughs, closing the door behind him.

When you enter Jisungs room, you see Jisung seated at his desk, yelling into his mic while playing an online game. Big chunky headphones sit atop his head, and the RGB lights of his keyboard and mouse illuminate his dark room.

You tap his shoulder, causing him to jump and yell into the mic. You hear muffled voices coming from his headset. From Jisung's "Sorry, guys," you can assume his teammates are scolding him for almost bursting their eardrums.

“Hold on, guys, I’ve gotta go AFK real quick,” he says, muting his mic and taking off one headphone.

“You scared me! Did Lele let you in?” he asks, confused.

“Yeah, sorry,” you instantly regret barging in to ask him a dumb question now that you see he’s busy. “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Mark lately? He hasn’t been picking up.” Your cheeks heat up when you realize how needy and stupid you sound. Maybe you can’t fault Haechan for the way he acted because here you are sounding the same way.

“Mark? Yeah, one sec,” he replies, pulling up Discord on his second screen. “Looks like he’s playing League with Haechan. They’ve been grinding for days. I swear, he’s addicted.”

“Mark games?” you ask, surprised. He’d never mentioned it before.

“Yeah, he joined our Discord server like a week ago. Haechan got him hooked on Overwatch and League now.”

Your mouth drops open as everything starts to click into place in your mind. That bastard.

You reach for Jisung's mouse and start scrolling through his chat. Sure enough, there are messages back and forth between Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Jeno, and Jaemin. It makes sense that they’d be gaming together. Before Jisung can stop you, you begin typing in the chat.

thefamousandy [9:33] Haechan you’re dead

—

Lately it's like Mark is never alone, Haechan is always right there with him. It feels like everywhere you turn, there’s Haechan.You spot them on campus, and it’s hard to miss Haechan casually hanging off Mark’s shoulder, that signature cocky smirk plastered on his face as he catches your eye for a split second. If you text Mark to hang out, his response is always “Can’t, out with Haechan already.”

Finally, you’re hanging out alone with Mark at his place, but instead of the quiet, intimate time you were hoping for, you're subjected to a marathon of Mark's League of Legends ramblings. Every sentence starts with the name "Haechan."

Haechan showed me how to…

Me and Haechan played until…

Haechan is really good at…

Haechan

Haechan

Haechan

You were starting to feel like you're stuck in some kind of bizarre, Haechan-centric vortex. You think you might just kill Haechan.

Mark mentions the others, too, but it's like they're mere background noise. All you can hear is Haechan's name echoing in your mind.

"…and then Haechan told me about this one champion, Ezreal, and how you can use his Mystic Shot to last-hit minions from a safe distance. I'm glad Jisung introduced us I’ve been wanting to get into league for forever” he says and you zone back in

"Wait, wait, Jisung introduced you to Haechan?" you ask.

“Yeah, he said they needed another person on their team,” Mark replies.

Right after Haechan, you think you might just kill Jisung too.

“You really like this game, huh? I want to see if you’re any good,” you tease, already cooking up a plan in your head to shut him up.

Mark blushes a little. “Nah, I’m not that good, really. Haechan carries the team.”

You feel a twitch in your jaw at the sound of that name.

“Well, I want to watch you play. it sounds fun! Maybe I can get good and join too,” you say, determined to keep him focused on you.

Mark beams at you, and you trail behind him to his room as he powers up his computer. Without hesitation, you settle into his lap, and he reaches around you to log in. You can’t help but think he looks adorable in his little gamer headphones.

As he dives into the game, he starts explaining the mechanics and the characters but it all sounds like blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff. Your eyes drift away from the screen and back to Mark's face, where you get lost in the sparkle in his eyes.

“Are you even listening?” Mark chuckles, his smile widening as he glances at you. You realize you’ve been staring at him for the past three minutes.

“Sorry, it’s just… you’re such a nerd, and it’s kinda hot,” you admit.

His cheeks flush a bright red, and he shakes his head, turning back to the screen to hide his embarrassment. You can’t help but smile as you watch him grow shy under your gaze. He playfully scolds you, “Pay attention!”

A notification pops up on his screen. thyluvhae is online.

You watch as Mark types out a response to Haechan’s request to play Overwatch. “Wanna watch me play a quick match?” he asks.

“Of course!” you smile.

Mark turns on his mic and greets the guys, while you settle back into his lap, content to watch for a little while. He finishes a round, glancing over to check if it’s okay to boot up another.

About halfway through his second round, you shift in his lap and push yourself off, kneeling between his legs. Mark’s eyes flicked down to you, wide with surprise, but before he could say anything, someone on his team started shouting instructions, pulling his attention back to the game.

His hands stayed glued to the mouse and keyboard, but you could see the tension in his body as you began to glide your hands up and down his thighs. Your touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to make his breath hitch. He stuttered a little on his sentences when he responded to something that was said, his voice trembling slightly.

You decided to escalate, pulling him from his sweats. His sharp intake of breath was barely audible, but you heard it. He covered it with a cough, his cheeks flushing as he tried to maintain his composure. You spit on his tip, the wetness glistening in the dim light, and began to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements. You take him into your mouth and swirl your tongue deviously around his tip before you trail teasing kisses down the side of his cock,

Mark’s hand shot up to mute his mic, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked torn between wanting to tangle his hands in your hair and needing to keep playing the game. The team was too close to victory, and they had been trying all day to secure a win. His moans were quiet and breathy, still afraid someone might hear him.

You paused for a moment, looking up at him deviously. “Let me hear you, baby. Don’t be shy,” you whispered. With that you took him back into your mouth and down your throat.

Mark’s moans picked up in volume, his legs spreading wider as he tried to keep himself from thrusting into your mouth. The sound of his keyboard clacking and his mouse clicking filled the room, but you could tell he was struggling to focus. It wasn’t long before his fingers suddenly stopped moving, and he froze. A long, shaky inhale escaped his lips, and his hips twitched upward involuntarily.

You knew you were doing a good job when he let out a low groan, and his fingers flexed on the keyboard. He jolted as someone on his team snapped him out of his trance, bringing him back to the game. Quickly, he unmuted himself. “I’m here, I’m here. I—my eyes are just tired. I’m sorry,” he lied, his voice strained as he tried to cover up his gasps.

You continued to stroke what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, and Mark leaned forward, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and agony. “Fuck,” he groaned into the mic, his voice trembling. “F-fuck, I almost died,” he said quickly, trying to cover up his moans.

The match dragged on, and you could feel Mark’s frustration building. His body taut with tension as you continued to work him. Finally, the match ended, and Mark let out a sigh of relief. He leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling as he watched you.

Without a word, he reached down and gathered your hair into a ponytail, using it as a makeshift handle to control you. “That’s right, open that throat up,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. He pushed your head down, forcing you to take him into the back of your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, and you could feel him throbbing against your tongue.

Mark’s head leaned back against the headrest of his gaming chair, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. He held you there for a moment, savoring the feeling before pulling you off of him. He shivers with a groan. “Just like that.”

You stare up at him with doe eyes as your lips shine with a mixture of his precum and your saliva. You pump him faster wanting nothing more than to have him paint your face.

Mark bites his lip before pushing you back down on him. You bob your head up and down sloppily just like he liked it until he was releasing down your throat. “Shit,” he groaned, his voice trembling as he moaned your name. You pull away continuing to pump him and the last of his release lands on your face.

He released your hair, and you pulled away, making a show of licking your lips and swallowing. Mark’s eyes were dark with desire, and he reached down to pull you into a kiss. You moaned at the prospect of him tasting himself on your lips, but before the kiss could deepen, he turned off the game and powered down his computer. With a swift motion, he picked you up and threw you into his sheets, his body covering yours, prepared to return the favor.

When you get home, you decide to FaceTime Jisung. He picks up and props his phone up, grabbing a bowl of food. Dressed comfortably in a hoodie with the hood pulled over his head, he sits at his desk and slurps his dinner.

“What’s up?” he mumbles around a mouthful.

“You were the one who introduced Mark to Haechan!?” you exclaim.

“Yeah, he asked me to! We needed another teammate, so I told them about Mark. How was I supposed to know you were… together?”

“Together? Together in what way?” You roll over onto your stomach in bed, your expression turning serious. Did he mean together together or together together.

“He forgot to mute his mic, and I heard a little too much,” Jisung admits, his face turning red as he looks away from the camera.

You cringe at the thought of what Jisung could have heard. “Are you mad?” you ask, genuinely concerned, your voice softening as you try to gauge his reaction.

“Ew, no! You’re like my sister,” he replies, dismissively.

"I meant about me fucking your cousin, asshat. I said mad, not jealous, genius," you retorted, raising an eyebrow at the screen.

“Why would I be?” he says, taking another bite of his food.

“I don’t know, some people have those boundaries about their family. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t cross any lines,” you explain.

“It’s a little weird, yeah, but that’s probably because I had to listen to him moan in my ear,” Jisung says, shivering slightly at the memory.

“Sorry!” you reply, trying to stifle a laugh. If Jisung had heard that meant Haechan probably had too and you were a little happy to exact a little revenge on him even if you couldn’t see his reaction.

—

As you walk into Mark's house, you're greeted by the sight of Haechan already lounging on the couch, looking like he's made himself right at home. Your face falls, and you shoot Mark a disgruntled glare.

"Seriously?!" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down.

Mark looks apologetic, whispering back, "I'm sorry! He just showed up. I didn't want to be rude."

Haechan, sensing the tension, looks up from his phone with a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Hey there! Ready for some fun?"

You force a smile, trying to play it cool, and sit down next to him on the couch. "Can't wait."

Haechan leans back, still grinning, clearly enjoying the fact that he's inserted himself into your plans.

Mark tries to diffuse the situation, saying, "Yeah, we were just about to load up some Mario Kart, actually." He starts rummaging for extra controllers near the TV and turns it on.

“I'm down” You say. It did sound fun but you weren't over here for Mario you were here for Mark and you were trying to play with his other joystick. Mark plops down on the other side of Haechan and passes over the remotes. As the game starts, you quickly take the lead, using your knowledge of the shortcuts and boosts to secure first place. Mark is second, and Haechan is fourth.

As you speed ahead, Haechan tries to take you down with a banana peel, but you dodge it effortlessly. "Too slow," you tease.

The race is heating up, and the three of you are getting increasingly competitive. Mark’s laughter drowns out the sound of the game, and for a moment, you almost forget about Haechan's ever-looming presence. But as the race comes down to the wire, Haechan and Mark make a alliance against you.

“Just let her have it, Mark. I’ll take care of her next round!” Haechan goads.

“Hey! No teaming up!” you yell, half-amused.

Mark just shrugs, a grin plastered to his face as you get blasted with a blue shell that causes you to cross the finish line in second, Haechan gleefully taking first place.

“Cheater” you mumble under your breath.

As the night winds down, Mark puts on a movie and you go grab some blankets while Haechan makes popcorn.

“Wanna share a blanket” You say, trying to snuggle up close to Mark on the couch.

But before Mark can respond, Haechan is back with popcorn and plops down right between you again, acting like a natural cockblock. “Share some with me too.” He hands off the bowl to Mark and throws the cover over all three of you

For whatever reason, Haechan picked a three-hour-long movie, and you're bored out of your mind. You grab your phone and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You [9:45] Come get your roommate hes being a nuisance

You text out an sos to Renjun.

RJ [10:20] Lol which one

You [10:21] The annoying one

RJ [10:23] Jaemin?

You [10:23] annoyingerrrrr

RJ [10:24] Haechan lmaooo What did he do

You [10:25] Cockblockingggggg hes everywhere he wont leave me alone

RJ [10:28] Just fuck him already

Before you can even think of a reply, the bathroom door creaks open, and you jump in surprise. Haechan pokes his head in.

"What the…?" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down. “What are you doing?”

Haechan shuts the door behind him and locks it, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You were taking too long to come back," he whispers.

"What about Mark?" you ask, trying to keep your cool.

“He fell asleep.”

You can't help but raise an eyebrow. "So?"

Haechan chuckles and takes a step closer, his face inches from yours. "So I'm bored and I knew you'd be in here, trying to escape."

You poke a finger into his chest, trying to assert your dominance. "You know what you're doing," you hissed.

Haechan's smirk only grows wider. "Oh? And what's that, princess?"

"You’re cockblocking. Stop getting in my way."

“Or what?” he teases.

Anger boils up in your chest, and you grab Haechan by the front of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're face-to-face, your grip unrelenting. The harsh words you intended to unleash fade away, caught in your throat. Instead, you slam your lips against his, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Haechan hisses in pain, but rather than pulling away, he leans into the kiss. He's been wanting this for too long, and now that it's finally happening, he's not about to let go.

He tries to push you up against the bathroom counter but with a swift move, you flip your positions around, pinning Haechan up against the counter instead.

Your eyes blaze with fury as you pull away from the kiss. "You think you're clever, stealing Mark away from me like that?" you hiss.

"Someones jealous," he says. His lip is slightly bleeding from the harsh bite, but he's not bothered, instead, he licks at it cockily.

Your anger only grows, and you reach forward, hands tangling in the back of his head, tugging hard enough to make Haechan whine. "You want me?" you say, your breath hot against his lips, your knee pressing up between his legs, making him shudder.

You've taken a few pages from Jaemin's playbook, it seems, learning how to put someone in their place, how to make them feel submission and powerlessness. And from the look on Haechan's face, it's working. He doesn't look so cocky anymore, instead, he looks…vulnerable. Helpless.

Haechan's head nods as best as he can in your grip, the defiance in his earlier demeanor fading.

"When have you ever been afraid to run that mouth?" you say. “Speak up.”

The way he’s pressed up against your knee, you can see a change in his gaze. He’s Hard against your thigh and his body is pressed impossibly close to yours, like you were his only lifeline.

"I want you. I need you so bad," he admits, his voice small.

You can't help but pat his cheek, a smirk forming on your lips. "Good boy."

He whines, reaching out to pull you close, eager to reconnect your lips, but you simply pull away entirely, enjoying the way he falls, eyes swirling with confusion and longing.

"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you? Hands behind your back," you instruct. "You have to earn it if you want to touch me."

He complies without hesitation, his eyes innocent and docile, and something wicked stirs within you; you want to ruin him, to break him. You think you will.

Pressing yourself back against him, you slot your leg between his thighs again, "Go ahead, grind against me. Show me how pathetic you are, and maybe I’ll take pity on you."

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers gripping tightly against the cool marble counter of Mark's bathroom. "I’m sorry, I’ll be good."

“Don't make me tell you again.”

Haechan swallows hard, his breath hitching at your authority. You can see the conflict in his eyes—part of him wants to push back and be a brat, but the other part, the one craving you, is ready to surrender completely.

Haechan whines softly as he grinds against your thigh, his gaze locked onto yours. Your fingers grip the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He groans into your mouth, frustration evident as he aches to reach out and grab you, to pull you closer, but he holds himself back, wanting to please you, to be good for you.

As your hands sneak under his shirt, you feel the warmth of his skin. You rake your nails down his stomach, teasingly, before pinching his nipples. The sound that escapes him is a soft moan, and you swallow his noises pressing your lips together until they are sure to bruise.

Your hands continue their exploration, sliding down to the waistband of his sweats. You tug at the fabric, freeing him from its confines, your grip finding the base of him. You hold him firmly, feeling the way he twitches under your touch, and you look at him with a smile.

“Spit on it,” you instruct him sweetly.

Haechan gazes at you with a hazy expression and rosy cheeks as he collects his saliva in his mouth. The spit drips down onto the head of his cock, and he sighs at the way it trickles down. His breath hitches as you tighten your grip just slightly.

“You listen so well, why can't you be like this all the time?” you say in a whisper.

You stroke him slowly, ensuring to twist your wrist around the head as you move up. Your movements are deliberate, slow, and drawn out to drive him crazy.

His hips buck up into your grasp.. You make a ring around the head of his cock with your fist and watch as he fucks into it. His breath is choppy, and his noises are high-pitched as he throws his head back.

“You make me feel so fucking good, I can't take this,” he cries. “I need you.”

“Shut up before you wake up Mark,” you say cruelly. Your hand stops at the base of his cock and squeezes punishingly causing him to curse and shudder.

Your hand starts moving again, and you attach your lips to his neck, sucking a pretty bruise into the skin there. You nip at the skin meanly before pulling away. You release him and the noise he makes is devastating. You laugh in his face and mock him.

“Grip it, you think I'm going to do all the work for you?”

Both hands lift off the counter, but you stop him. “Keep one hand on the counter and don't move it.”

He follows your instructions, gripping himself firmly. He doesn't move, just looks at you waiting for your next command.

“Look at you catching on fast,” you commend him. “Show me how you like it.”

A broken whine leaves his lips as he starts fisting his cock in front of you. His cheeks are red, and he's clearly embarrassed, but he doesn't stop.

His pace is fast and rough, and he bites his lip to silence his moans. “Slow down,” you instruct.

He shakes his head stubbornly. “Can’t, so close.” He says, words coming out broken.

“You want to finish like that? Be my guest, but you’re not fucking me.”

He whines, but finally stops, his chest heaving as he fights back his orgasm.

“You’re hard headed, so don’t think you’ll be rewarded.” You lean over the counter, pulling your bottoms down but leaving your underwear on. “Fuck my thighs, that's all you get.”

Haechan is behind you in seconds, pushing into the tight space between your thighs. He leans over you, his hips slapping noisily against your ass as he chases his high. His fingers dip into your underwear, playing with your slickness before plunging deep inside you. His fingers match the rhythm of his thrusts, and he imagines it’s his cock filling you.

“Wanna fuck this pussy so bad. You’re so fucking selfish.” He moans in your ear, slowly transforming back into the brat you know and love.

“You’re always doing me dirty, but I still worship this pussy.” His free hand grips your hip, his fingernails biting into your skin. “I’d fill you up, stretch you out like you need, but you won’t let me.”

You moan at his words, grinding back against him as his fingers plunge deeper. “I should fucking break you. I’m too nice to you.”

You’re not sure when the tables turned, but you’re soaking his fingers. He curls his digits deep inside you, and suddenly you’re cumming. He pulls his fingers out and slides your panties to the side, lining up at your entrance. He splits you open and moans at how wet you feel. Wet squelching fills the bathroom as he begins to fuck you. You want to protest but he feels so good you can’t. You hadn’t felt him in so long you would be insane to stop him now.

He had needed this for so long but he's frustrated beyond belief because he's already so close. This was not how he’d envisioned having you after so long. But it was alright, there would always be a next time, and next time, you would be his good girl.

He grips your hair roughly pulling you back to meet his lips and after a few more deep thrusts he's cumming inside you, groaning in frustration. He pulls out, and your panties slip back into place, trapping his cum inside of you. You both clean up and fix your appearances. Honestly, you had forgotten whose house you were at, and you cringe at the thought of how loud you must have been.

You both try to make your way back to the living room as inconspicuous as possible. When you enter the room, Mark is sprawled out on the couch, deep in sleep. You sigh in relief; he’s always been a heavy sleeper, and you thank the lord for that.

“Wanna go fuck on his bed?” Haechan jokes.

You punch him in the shoulder. “Shut up”

—

Jeno had finally convinced you to come with him to the gym. The cold air nipped at your skin as you approached the entrance, and it was late, making you question how he managed to get you here. Maybe it was the fact that you had been missing him more than you cared to admit.

“One more rep, you got this!” he motivates from behind you, his chest pressed warmly against your back, closer than what was probably necessary. The 10-pound dumbbells in your hands were starting to feel like they weighed a ton, and you could feel the burn in your muscles as you struggled through the sets of butterflies. “Come on, don’t stop. Almost there!”

His hands ghost beneath your arms, providing just the right amount of support to help you finish your last rep. You exhale a heavy sigh when you’re finally done, sweat slick against your forehead and trickling down the sides of your face.

“Good girl,” he coos, a playful glint in his eye as he hands you your water bottle.

“I’m never coming back here,” you declare, plopping down on a nearby bench, your legs feeling like jelly. The gym had already long closed for the night, leaving the two of you alone. Jeno had started working part-time at the gym and had gained free access to the equipment during off hours. You spent the first hour there helping him tidy up, wiping down machines and stacking weights, before he finally dragged you onto the floor for a workout. Once he noticed how bad your form was, he stepped right in, transforming into your personal trainer.

“Don’t be like that, it’s not so bad! Besides, who else is going to keep me company?” he pouts cutely.

“I don’t know… how about you bring the other musclehead?” you say.

“It’s easier to work out when I’m looking at something pretty,” he replies.

“Since when isn’t Jaemin pretty?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” he counters, sitting down beside you on the bench. You can’t help but notice the way his broad shoulders fill out his tank top. He hands you his sports water bottle, and you shoot a mouthful of water down your throat.

“Have you had enough fun torturing me yet? Can we leave now?” You yawn, stretching your arms above your head and feeling the pleasant release in your muscles.

He takes the water bottle back and drinks from it before he stands to find his bag. “Yeah, want to shower first?”

You try to follow him into the men’s locker room but he stops you abruptly, a serious look crossing his face. You quirk an eyebrow, and he gives you a stern look in return. “Cameras, dummy,” he reminds you, then dramatically gestures toward the women’s bathroom, his playful tone returning. With a chuckle, you head in the opposite direction, hoping anyone monitoring the footage later would see you as merely lost.

After you freshen up, you meet him in the office, where he’s already sitting at his desk. “I just need to finish up a few more things, and then we can go,” he says.

You take a seat on the edge of the desk, watching him as he focuses intently on the screen. He logs something on the computer, brows furrowed as he concentrates on the screen in front of him. He looks so good, especially with his hair still slightly damp from the shower, beads of water clinging to the ends.

Reaching over, you grab the towel draped around his neck and gently use it to dry his hair a little further. When you pull away, he instinctively reaches out without looking and kisses the back of your hand in thanks, his lips brushing against your skin softly. The warmth of his gesture sends a flutter through you.

You need him bad.

Your eyes dart around the room, scanning every high corner and every hidden nook, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Hey, Jen, are there any cameras in here?” you ask.

“No,” he responds absentmindedly, his eyes glued to the computer screen, focused on the task at hand.

“Can I sit in your lap?”

“Anything you want, sweet girl, just shut the door,” he replies. You shut the office door, the soft click of the latch resonating in the otherwise quiet space, effectively sealing the two of you inside.

Jeno scoots back in his chair, giving you ample room to settle down on his lap. You straddle his waist, positioning yourself so that you’re facing him. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you can feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours as he resumes his work.

After a few moments, he hits the last key of the keyboard with a sound of finality, and then the soft whirring of the computer comes to a stop as he shuts it down. You pull back slightly to look at him

“I’m done, baby. You ready?” he asks

You shake your head no, your eyes glazing over and you lean in, closing the space between you, and press your lips against his in a kiss.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, caught off guard by the sudden shift. But then his body responds instinctively; his hands slide up your thighs to grip your waist, pulling you closer against him. The kiss deepens as all the air in the room seems to disappear, his tongue brushing against yours in a slow waltz.

You break away from the kiss just enough to whisper, “There’s one more workout I want to try before we leave.”

Jeno snorts a laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Corny,” he teases.

You give his shoulder a playful slap, pouting slightly. “Stop! I’m trying to be sexy!”

He just shakes his head at you in amusement before bringing your lips back together.He shifts in the chair, his hands guiding you to adjust your position. You can feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your gym clothes, his body pressed against yours, hard and throbbing.

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping firmly as he lifts you slightly, guiding you to grind against him. The friction is everything, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that makes you gasp into his mouth. He chuckles, the sound vibrates against your lips. “You like that?”

You nod, unable to form words as his hands move to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. His eyes rake over your body, and you feel a flush of heat as his gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your waist. “so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice thick with desire.

Your hands fumble with the tie of his sweats, eager to feel him. He helps you, shoving his bottoms down just enough to free himself, and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the sight of him.

You shift back slightly, lining yourself up with him, and then you’re sinking down, taking him inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. The sensation is overwhelming, it's a fullness that makes your head spin. You let out a shaky breath and your hands grip his shoulders for support as you adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Jeno groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he helps you move. You start slow, rocking against him, testing the rhythm, but it’s not enough. You need more.

You lift yourself up slightly before sinking back down, harder this time, and the moan that escapes Jeno’s lips is enough to spur you on. You set a steady pace, riding him with a growing urgency. He matches your fire as his hips snap up to meet you halfway. His hands roam over your body,the pads of his fingers touching and teasing to drive you wild.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in praise. “Just like that.”

His words fuel you, and you move faster, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands grip your hips, guiding you, helping you find the perfect angle. Every thrust sends a wave of pleasure crashing through you, building and building until you’re teetering on the edge.

“Jeno,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you cling to him. “I’m so close.”

He tightens his grip on your hips, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. “Come for me sweetie, ” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Let me feel you.”

His words push you over the edge, and you shatter, your body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. He follows you with a low groan, his hips jerking up as he spills himself inside you, his grip on you tightening as he rides out his own climax.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the two of you clinging to each other as you come down from the high. Jeno’s hands move up your back, pulling you close, and you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling.

“I’m ready now,” you say with a breathy laugh.

As you drive back, Jeno’s hands are interlocked with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your palm lovingly. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, a soft smile on his lips as he hums along to the melody playing on the radio.

In moments like this, you feel a flicker of guilt. He’s so loving, so affectionate, and you absolutely cherish it, but a nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind. You know he likes you, and your heart aches every time you consider it because you’re not sure you’re ready for a relationship. The last thing you want to do is break his heart.

You can’t keep putting it off forever.

“Jeno, can I ask you a question?” you say.

He hums in response, granting you permission to go on, his attention still largely on the road.

“How do you feel about me?” you ask shakily.

A look of surprise crosses his face, and he stutters for a moment, clearly searching for the right words. Taking a deep breath, he finally says, “Honestly, at first, I had a crush on you. I kind of still do, but I know casual is your thing, and I don’t want to ruin what we have now,” he confesses.

“Jeno, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. If you want, we can stop. I don’t want to keep trampling on your heart like this.” You knew friends with benefits could become a dangerous game once feelings got involved. You wish you could return his feelings fully, envisioning a future together, but the timing isn’t right for you.

Jeno shakes his head, a reassuring smile on his face as he squeezes your hand tighter. “No, really, it’s not like that. It’s not some undying love, and I’m not heartbroken that you don’t feel the same way. I’m a grown-up, I can handle it,” he laughs lightly, dispelling some of the heaviness in the air.

You sigh a little in relief and you can see in his eyes that he means it. You could kind of feel the shift as well. Before he was more like a love sick puppy but now he's more….content? Mature? It feels like you’re connecting on a different level, almost like best friends, similar to how you feel with Renjun.

Your heart blooms at the thought. Maybe when you’re ready, Jeno will be the first place you look.

—

Sunnyboy [9:00] jun forgot to pay for the wifi can i come over and use yours? library closed and have a paper due at 12

You read the message, a small smirk playing on your lips as you consider the true intention behind it. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine he’s just making up an excuse to end up at your place, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy his company. When he arrives, though, it becomes clear he wasn’t lying.

Haechan sits on your couch, furiously typing away at his laptop, his face stone serious as he races against the clock. Classic him—procrastinating until the last possible minute to whip up something to submit for an assignment he had weeks to complete.

You quietly make him some tea, settling down by the window with a book you had been eagerly waiting to dive into. The storm outside intensifies, rain pounding against the glass, setting the perfect atmosphere for a cozy read while Haechan works alongside you. After about an hour of reading the thunder was becoming too distracting, striking down hard and scaring you away from the window and onto the couch next to haechan.

“Scaredy cat,” Haechan teases without taking his eyes off the screen.

You roll your eyes playfully, closing your book and propping your head on his shoulder, stealing a moment to watch him focus. It’s five minutes to twelve, and he’s typing furiously, powering through the conclusion. Just as he finishes and hits the submit button, the storm roars louder, and suddenly the power cuts out, plunging the room into darkness.

“Shit!… YES!” he cries in triumph as he realizes the submission page went through just in time.

You laugh beside him. “Your luck scares me sometimes.”

He turns to you, a triumphant grin lighting up his face, and he leans over to kiss you in celebration. “Thank you so much. you’re a lifesaver,” he says.

“Anytime.”

Finally catching sight of the storm outside, his eyebrows shoot up. “Damn, when did it get that bad? I don’t think I can drive in that,” he worries.

“Did you think I was going to make you? You’re staying over.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Me and you all alone in the dark? Does that mean I finally got you all to myself?”

With a teasing smile, you stand up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom. “How will we possibly pass the time?” you ask, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

He closes his laptop, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable as he follows. “I have a couple ideas.”

Once you cross the threshold of your bedroom door you turn to face him, a playful grin dancing on your lips. With deliberate slowness, you begin to strip, giving him a show as you remove each piece of clothing, throwing them at him tauntingly.

“I’m sorry for making you wait so long,” you tease as you toss your shirt in his direction and he catches it before it can land on his head. His eyes roam up and down your body hungrily, and you could sense the dominant headspace he was slipping into. You realize it wouldn’t be like last time, you wouldn’t be in control.

“You will be,” he states firmly, gripping the fabric of his shirt and pulling it above his head as he strides towards you.

"I'm so scared," you taunt, letting out a soft, mocking laugh as you saunter backward towards the bed, your hips swaying with every step. You watch as his jaw tightens, his eyes darkening with a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

“You’re really asking for it tonight, aren’t you?” He says finally standing in front of you.

You smirk, as your knees hit the edge of the bed. “Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

“Let’s see if you can keep that attitude.” In an instant he's pushing you down and climbing on top of you. His lips crash against yours and his tongue seeks entrance eagerly. You moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. But he swiftly grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand while the other trails down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He spreads your legs open roughly, forcing his way between them and grinding his hips down sharply against you.

“Feel me, baby? That’s what you do to me,” he moans against your skin.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Please, I need you.”

“Begging already?” he teases, his fingers slipping between your bodies and dipping inside you. “I haven’t even started yet.”

He collects your juices on his fingers before he pulls them out, savoring the taste of you on his tongue when he licks them clean. “Sweet.” He groans before connecting your lips again. You chase the taste, but he pulls back, sitting up to strip off the rest of his clothes. Breathless, you watch as he reveals himself, his hard cock standing at attention.

He slips off the bed, positioning you how he wants. You find yourself lying on your back with your head hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“Tap if you need air,” is the only warning you get before he slips his cock past your lips.

One hand grips the back of your neck while the other trails down your body, teasing your nipples before he’s leaning down to kiss your navel.

You relax your throat, taking him deeper with every thrust. There’s little for you to do other than lay there and be his toy. His movements are gentle at first, but then he picks up the pace, thrusting harder as he watches the way he bulges in your throat.

Suddenly, he spreads your legs wide and delivers a stinging slap to your cunt, making you jump. He circles your clit expertly before opening you up again with his fingers. You moan around his cock, and he shivers at the vibrations the sound makes.

His pace quickens, thrusts becoming more forceful as he fucks your mouth. You choke, and he moans, pushing himself down your throat and holding himself there despite your struggles for breath. You hold on until tears prick your eyes and he finally pulls back to allow you to gasp for air.

“So good,” he whispers as you catch your breath, focusing now on fucking you with his fingers.

You clench around his fingers and he pulls out delivering a wet slap to the inside of your thigh. “Not yet”

Using the juices that coat his fingers, he strokes his cock, covering himself in you before he thrusts back down your throat. The wet, gargled sounds echo in the room, and his balls slap against your forehead as he pushes into your mouth.

With a light grip around your throat, he wanted to feel the way he moved inside of you, his thrusts quickening. You can sense he’s close, but after a few long, slow strokes, he pulls out, not wanting to finish yet. He helps you sit up, and you know your throat will be sore tomorrow.

You crawl further up the bed and get on your hands and knees, but as he joins you, he delivers a slap to your ass, shaking his head. “No, I want to see you. Turn over.”

You follow his command, spreading your legs wide for him, a desperate need coursing through you.

He lines himself up at your entrance, teasingly gliding his tip through your folds. “Tell me you want me,” he says, his free hand gripping your throat tightly.

“I want you so bad,” you say struggling to breathe.

He slips inside, just barely giving you the tip, teasing you as he pushes in and out. “Tell me you missed me.”

You nod pathetically. “I missed you, bear.”

A low moan escapes his lips at the nickname, and he responds by giving you another inch. “Now apologize to me.”

“I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’ll think twice before I do it again,” you reply slyly.

He smiles. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“I get it from you,” you tease, rolling your hips up daringly with a soft moan.

Without a word, he tightens his grip on your throat, thrusting into you hard. His hips slap against yours loudly, your back arching at the intensity. He doesn’t hold back or let you ease into it, he starts fucking you into the mattress.

“Not so funny now, is it?” he breathes, his movements relentless.

Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, your ankles locked together to keep him close. “Fuck!” you moan, overwhelmed with pleasure.

He leans down, connecting his lips with yours, moaning into your mouth as he lets go of your throat. His hand moves down to grip your hips instead, leaning until your chests touch. Buried in your neck, his hands squeeze your ass cheeks as he lifts your hips to meet each of his powerful thrusts. He fills you completely, stretching you in all the ways you love, and the sounds he makes in your ear has you clenching tight around him.

Suddenly, he pulls out, manhandling you into a new position. He grips your ankles, yanking your legs from around his waist and pushing them above your head. Your hamstrings stretch to the limit, but he pins you down, making sure you take every bit of him. He pounds into you from above, and you claw at his skin, all you could think about was how he feels inside you.

“Look at you,” he says, his eyes locked on where he’s plunging deep inside you. “Spread open like this, pussy swallowing me so easily. We trained you well, huh? You’re a fucking pro.”

One of his hands releases your ankle, dropping down to rub your clit with urgency. His fingers move in a blur, pushing you to the edge as he strikes that perfect depth. You squirm in his grasp, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure building inside you. It’s almost too much, and every thrust makes it harder to hold on.

“Come on, baby, you know what I want. Don’t fight it,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your chest.

Your body tenses and you're practically showering him with how hard you squirt. Your walls force him out and he just sits back and watches you convulse and make a mess.

He smiles wickedly at you “look at the mess you made.” Your juices drip down his chest and stomach.

Your cheeks heat up, and you watch, frozen, as he takes in the sight of you. “Don't get shy now,” he teases, before plunging back into you.

You're drenched, so wet that he slips in and out of you with ease. He loses all sense of control, the grip of his hands is bruising as his hips grind down hard. His moans are loud and primal, and he gets rougher the closer he gets to the edge. He slaps your thigh harshly, trying to keep you still and open for him as you squirm, trying to close your legs from the overstimulation.

“I know you can take it big girl come on,” he coos.

“I can’t… it’s too much,” you plead.

He slaps your cheek, the shock of the pain sending a jolt through your body. Then, he grips your face, his eyes boring into yours as he chants, “Take it. Take it. Take it,” with each thrust.

“Yes! Haechan!” You moan.

He uses extra strength to keep your hips pinned down as he uses you. His eyes flutter and his brows furrow and he finally cums deep inside of you. “Fuuck” he moans drawn out. His hips continue to move, fucking you through his high. He didn't want to stop, his thrusts turning pathetic as he finally succumbs to his overstimulation and locks up, unable to move.

When he finally pulls away, everything is sticky and wet, and you're left lying, exhausted, on the bed. The wet sheets stick to your body as you peel yourself off.

“Ew, who made this mess?” Haechan teases, as he changes the sheets, and you throw a pillow at him, leaving to take a shower.

Once he's finished cleaning up, he joins you in the shower for round two.

—

Chenle had rented a cozy cabin for the weekend, and you and your friends sat in front of the fireplace, laughing and sharing stories as the night wore on. Some movie flickered on the screen behind you, mostly forgotten as you all munched on snacks, wrapped up in blankets scattered across the floor.

Jisung was the only one still watching the movie, completely engrossed given the fact he picked it. It was some old alien abduction movie that the internet told him had “real alien footage” in it.

Meanwhile, Yangyang was sprawled on the couch, completely passed out, a half-spilled bag of Cheeto puffs resting on his chest.

You, Mia, Yuna, and Chenle were deep into your usual gossip session.

“Guys, I can’t hear anything! It’s getting good!” Jisung complained, shooting you an exasperated look.

“That’s what captions are for!” Yuna shot back.

“Spoiler, the aliens are fake,” you added.

“Shut up bro. You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jisung hissed back in annoyance

“Can you all ignore him like I do and focus?” Chenle scolded, trying to redirect the conversation. “I’m trying to find out what happened next!”

The group pressed you for the juicy details of your sex life, eager to hear what had happened since you last caught them up. You had spent the day playing drinking games, chatting, and even sledding outside. But now, with the moon high in the sky, it was the perfect time for some dirty gossip.

“Basically, he had my legs up like this,” you said, using Mia as a demonstration dummy. Your friends were nosy, they wanted explicit details and you were more than happy to share with the table.

Mia started moaning dramatically, adding to the theatrics, and you playfully smacked her butt before pushing off.

“Omggggg, where do you find these guys?” Yuna squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Mia sits up and grabs her snack, throwing some trail mix in her mouth. “Literally, it’s not fair! You’re hogging all the good dick!”

“Sorry, guys, find your own.” you retorted.

“So, what are you going to do next?” Chenle asked, his tone turning more serious.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to gauge where he was going with this.

“In the long run—are you going to pick one or…?” he left the question hanging.

“Yeah, whoever you don’t pick, I call dibs,” Mia chimed in jokingly.

You felt a weight settle in your chest as reality hit you. You hadn’t truly confronted the question. The thought of the "what ifs" and "whens" sent a shiver of fear through you and whenever your mind would wander to those questions you ran away.

“I really don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “I guess I’m just scared. I don’t think I can handle being thrown away again. I’m not ready to open my heart up yet,” you admitted quietly.

“That’s understandable,” Yuna replied gently. “But what about them? Are you sure they haven’t caught feelings?”

“I talked to Jeno about his feelings, and we came to an understanding,” you shared. “But for the others, as far as I know, it’s been strictly casual.”

“Just have five boyfriends,” Chenle suggested with a shrug. “That way, if one dumps you, you have a backup.”

“That’s the kind of greed they warn about in the Bible,” you laughed. “You know your ideas are always terrible, right?”

“I say don’t worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy yourself.” Mia advised with a wink.

“Be young and turnt!” Yuna added, throwing her hands up in a playful cheer.

You laugh and the talk lifts a weight off your shoulders. They were right. You should just enjoy what life threw your way and accept things for what they were.

“Glad we had this chat. Now can we watch the movie? The aliens are about to have an orgy!” Jisung exclaimed.

All heads whip towards the screen.

“Got your dumb ass now, watch the movie,” he scolded, a triumphant grin on his face.

—

Mark invited you over for game night with the guys, and you were a bundle of nerves. The last time all of you were together, things got a bit… wild. Mark had really bonded with the others outside of gaming, and they all hung out often now. You never knew who you'd run into when you arrived - sometimes it was Haechan, but other times you'd catch Jaemin just as he was slipping out the door, sending you a sly wink as he left. On occasion, you'd find Jeno sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in animal crossing on Mark's Switch while you and Mark would sneak off to his room for a quickie. Essentially, Mark’s house had become the new hangout spot.

When you got there, the kickback was already in full swing. The guys were all over the house. You could smell food, and you were already feeling better about being there. Jaemin and Jeno were locked in a Mario Kart battle, while Mark and Haechan were in the kitchen watching Renjun carefully arrange the food as they rambled about some MMORPG. Your stomach growled at the sight of the spread. Ducking past the TV, you slipped into the kitchen, offering greetings as you passed.

You walk up behind Renjun, swiping a nacho while he adjusts a bowl of salsa, tilting it ever so slightly for the perfect angle, everything had to be perfect for maximum snacking efficiency. It's the second time he's done so since you walked up. A furrow appears between his brows as he considers the placement. "I wasn't done yet," he grumbles, not looking up, his focus solely on the geometric harmony of the snack arrangement. You kiss his cheek with a laugh and turn to Mark and Haechan.

"What are you geeks talking about?" you tease.

"Don't listen to her babe, she just doesn't get us," Haechan jokingly reassures Mark.

Mark laughs, nudging him in the arm. "Dude, shut up."

Renjun straightens, pleased with his organization of the snacks. "We were waiting for you to get here so we could actually eat before the game," he says, gesturing towards Haechan. "He's been trying to sneak chips since we got here."

"Not sorry," Haechan shrugs, already reaching for the salsa.

"Okay, I'm starving," you say. Everyone piles into the kitchen, assembling their own plates before heading back out into the living room. Conversation flows easily as you all eat, enjoying the food Renjun brought for everyone.

Once the food is gone and the cleanup is finished, you collapse onto the couch. "So, what game are we thinking?" you ask innocently.

You hadn't yet realized you had walked into a wolf den.

"Well, before you got here, we were having a nice little chat with Mark," Jaemin says, his tone giving away exactly what that chat entailed. He's sitting to your left on the couch, too close for comfort. “We thought of the perfect game.”

"Oh," you laugh nervously. "…Really? And what's that?"

"Mark here thinks he's the best you've ever had, but clearly he hasn't met me," Haechan chimes in from his spot on the floor, leaning forward with a mischievous grin.

"This was their idea," Renjun says, gesturing to Haechan and Jaemin. He's standing near the TV, having just returned from throwing something away in the kitchen.

"Hear them out, though. It will be fun I promise," Jeno adds from beside Haechan.

Your head whips back and forth, searching for someone, anyone, who'll give you a straight answer. What the hell was going on.

"I thought I was special, baby. You should have told me you were fucking around," Mark says, his voice laced with a teasing possessiveness. "I don't mind, though, as long as they know I fuck you the best." He's on your right, effectively boxing you in.

Your face heats up instantly, and your eyes widen in disbelief.

"W-what are you guys talking about?" you stammer.

Finally, Renjun takes pity on you. "They want to see who can make you cum the fastest."

You knew nothing good would come of having them all together in one room. "And what does the winner get?" you ask, swallowing hard.

"The winner gets you all to themselves for a week," Haechan says, his smile predatory. Definitely his idea.

Jaemin pulls something from his pocket and hands it to you. "We're gonna roll this die, and that will decide how we try to make you cum" he says. It was a sexy die. Of course, Jaemin’s freaky ass had a sexy die. Written on its sides were “Fingers,” “Thigh,” “Dick,” “Dry Hump,” “Tongue,” and a Free Space.

"Some of these aren't very advantageous," you point out.

Mark shrugs, a confident smirk on his face. "That's the fun of it."

They were the players, and you were their board.

"You down? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course," Mark adds.

You take a deep breath. "I’m down." If you were honest with yourself, you were more than down. "How are we doing this?"

"You'll be the timekeeper to make sure it’s fair, and we'll start oldest to youngest," Renjun informs you, inching closer to the couch as the game is about to begin.

You nod, your heart racing as you contemplate what’s coming. You can already feel yourself growing wet despite them not having done anything yet.

"I’m first," Mark says, his voice a low rumble beside you. He pulls you to straddle him, his eyelids heavy as he takes in how pretty you look perched up on his lap. He leans back lazily on the couch and he reaches up to grab the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer for a kiss. His hands are busy stripping you while your lips move against each other. his touch drags teasingly over your body as he removes your clothes. His fingers brush against your nipples, making you gasp, and his hips grind into you from below as he helps you adjust your position after removing your panties.

"He's cheating lowkey," Renjun complains.

"Literally," Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“Yea! you're getting a head start, hands off.” Haechan chimes in.

“I'm just helping her undress to make it easier," he smirks, raising his hands in defeat.

He takes the die from your hands, his fingers lingering against your palm, sending a shiver down your spine. He tosses it onto the coffee table in front of you, the sound echoing in the suddenly quiet room. All eyes turn towards it, anticipation thick in the air, to see what it lands on.

THIGH

Mark groans at the fate that's been dealt to him, while the others snicker.

"That's what you get," Haechan teases.

Renjun quickly hands over his phone, the timer already pulled up.

"You ready?" you ask Mark, a sly smirk on your face, finding amusement in the choice he got.

His hands gripping your waist firmly as he positions you over his jean-clad thigh. His face showed nothing but determination. "I'm ready, baby."

You start the timer and Mark doesn't waste any time. His mouth descends upon your breasts, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin as he bounces you on his thigh, the friction creates a delicious sensation, making your breath hitch in your throat.

You're already wet, and the way he's handling you, dragging you over his thigh wasn’t helping the wet patch forming on his jeans. He slaps your ass before gripping it roughly, "just like that, baby, give it to me," he breathes against your skin, words muffled against the nipple in his mouth.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You love when he talks dirty, the sound of his voice doing something primal to you. You grind down roughly against his thigh, chasing your orgasm, wanting to be good for him. His hand finds your breast, joining the insistent tug of his lips as he expertly works you up. You tremble, a live wire under his ministrations. You were surprised at yourself. You didn't think you could come from a little thigh riding, but the rough pads of Mark's fingers, the way they pinch and tug at your nipples as you grind against him… it's only a matter of time now.

A hand reaches out for your face. You expect it to be Mark's, but his hands are fully occupied. It's Jaemin's face that greets you, his eyes locking onto yours as he pulls you into a searing kiss. Your surprise breaks way to pleasure as you let him take control.

His kiss melts you, and a whimper tumbles from your lips. You kiss him back feverishly and he matches your passion as his tongue slides into your mouth. Mark's hands tighten on your waist, his movements becoming rougher, pressing you down harder against his thigh. Mark's mouth, his hands, and his thigh, along with Jaemin's hot wet tongue, drives you over the edge.

You cum against Mark's thigh with a shuddering gasp, the phone almost slipping from your grasp before you realize you have to stop the timer.

8 minutes 19 seconds

Haechan groans dramatically when you show everyone the time. “You fucking helped him, dumbass! He could’ve gotten to 10 minutes,” Haechan complains, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

Jaemin shrugs, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips, "I don't care."

"I'm next," Renjun pipes up from his spot on the floor, a gleam in his eye. Despite the fact that there was plenty of room on the couch, Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno all sat crowded at your feet on the floor ensuring they had the best view of the show.

You climb off Mark's lap, and Renjun takes his place on the couch, settling in comfortably. "You're literally last, trade places with me," Haechan tells Jaemin.

Jaemin just rolls his eyes and scoots down on the couch, allowing Haechan to take his place and sit on the other side of you. Mark situates himself on the floor beside your leg.

Once everyone is settled and comfortable, Renjun rolls the die. Everyone holds their breath as it rolls to a stop.

DICK

"Fuck yes!" he shouts in triumph.

Everyone else groans in unison, but you can't help but smile. You didn't care who did it; you were just happy that you're finally getting filled up.

"It's rigged," Jeno huffs.

"Shut up, dog boy," Renjun smiles, unbuckling his pants.

Renjun pulls himself from his confines and strokes himself a few times before helping you over his lap. "Take all the time you need, baby, I don't mind," he winks.

He didn't care about winning, not when he still had his Tuesdays with you. Also why would he rush you, if you were riding his dick he was winning either way. He helps you sink down on his cock, and you start the timer, biting your lip at the stretch.

You could feel their eyes burning into you as you ride Renjun, other moans accompanying yours as you bounce on his hips. You look over and see Haechan already pulled himself free, stroking himself lazily while watching you intently. One of his hands reaches out to grab your wrist, resting your hand in his lap,and you grip him. Jeno is a little more conscious, only palming himself through his sweats, while Mark does the same. Jaemin sits beside Haechan, leaning back cockily, waiting for his turn.

You're so turned on it's driving you crazy; Renjun's hips kick up, fucking up into you roughly. "God damn," he moans, his eyes locked on yours.

You bounce on him with everything you have while trying to stimulate Haechan. Renjun feels amazing and with everyone watching, you feel twice as sensitive. You press your lips against his, and you kiss him desperately. "I'm close," you moan.

He grips your waist, stilling your movements, before grinding you down against him. He spreads his legs a little wider, then jackhammers up into you, jostling you around in his lap. You grip his phone with one hand and release Haechan from your other. All you could focus on at the moment was Renjun.

"Hold it, baby, there's no rush," he says, his voice a husky murmur against your skin. You throw your head back, and a loud moan escapes your throat.

You take it, savoring every second as he fucks you. You feel yourself tightening down around him, close to cumming, but he slows almost to a stop.

"Didn't think I'd ever say this, but hurry up!" Jeno groans, his impatience growing.

Renjun throws his head back, his hands gripping your waist tight as he guides you up and down his cock. He makes you ride him slow, enjoying every moment of being inside of you as he drags out his time.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans out. You could tell by the lazy look in his eyes he was enjoying this. He looked like he was floating on a cloud, high off the feeling he got when he was 6 inches deep in your warm cunt.

His hips pick up their pace, and you can tell he's close. He pulls you down into a kiss, smacking your ass as you ride him. You can feel your orgasm building back up quickly, and with one well-placed deep thrust, he's cumming deep inside you. You shiver as he fills you up and spill over the edge with him, clamping down hard as you cum together.

10 minutes 22 seconds

The others look at the two of you, unsure if they should be happy or mad that Renjun just lost, because from the blissed out look on his face did he really?

Renjun helps you off his lap and you sit down on the couch, your legs still gently shaking. You can feel your wetness dripping onto Mark’s couch, and you cringe a little at the thought.

Renjun stands up and zips his pants again while Jeno takes his spot. Die already in hand, he rolls it on the coffee table eagerly.

FREE

The gods must have been looking down on Jeno, because he rolled a free space, and he was about to use the hell out of it. Jeno was in it to win it.

His eyes lock onto Haechan and Jaemin. "Get off the couch," he commands.

Haechan groaned, his hand still wrapped around his hardness, but he obeyed, sliding off the couch with a reluctant sigh. Jaemin, however, didn’t move. Not an inch. Jeno’s glare sharpened, but Jaemin simply raised a cocky brow, his expression daring Jeno to make him. Jeno rolls his eyes but doesn't push any further. He had other priorities.

Jeno tugged his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. His muscles flexed as he tossed the fabric aside. “Lay down,” he ordered. You obeyed instantly and sank into the couch cushions.

Jaemin shifted slightly, settling your head into his lap with a handsome smile. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he caressed your face. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, he always looked good from above you.

Jeno noticed, his jaw tightened and a flicker of irritation crossing his features. Without a word, he shucked his pants down, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He freed himself, thick and heavy, and positioned himself between your legs. His hand gripped your chin, forcing your gaze back to him. “Pay attention, baby,” he reprimands you. “Start the timer.”

Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the phone, your breath hitching as Jeno’s free hand caressed your thighs. The moment the timer started, Jeno didn’t waste a second. He throws one of your legs over his shoulders and bottoms out instantly. The sudden stretch made you gasp, your back arching slightly off the couch. Jeno’s thrusts were sharp, precise, and calculated, each one driving deeper, harder, you could feel him all the way to the tips of your toes.

You moaned embarrassingly loud, your free hand gripping the couch cushions for support. Jeno’s rhythm was relentless, his hips slamming into you with a rhythm that left you breathless. The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, punctuated by your desperate whimpers and the occasional grunt from Jeno.

From his new spot on the coffee table, Haechan moaned, “Shit,” his hand moving faster now as he watched you get fucked. His face was twisted in pleasure, his eyes locked on where Jeno was buried deep inside you. Mark had grown a little bolder. His hand now down his pants, his strokes slow but deliberate, his breaths quickening as he watched. Renjun, still sprawled on the floor, was too spent to join in, but his eyes watched as your chest bounced with each thrust.

Jaemin pets your hair as he looks down at you, stealing your attention away from Jeno again. “Look how well our pretty girl takes it.” He coos.

Jeno brows furrowed in frustration once he realizes you had taken your eyes off of him again. His hips grew rougher, his thrusts harder, until the springs of the couch groaned in protest. His hand moved to your clit, fingers pinching it meanly before rubbing soothing circles. Your eyes were on him again and he was going to keep it that way. He leans down, crashes his lips to yours and swallows your moans, keeping them all to himself.

The phone slipped from your grasp but you didn’t care. You couldn’t think about anything except the orgasm building in your lower belly. Jeno’s rhythm was unrelenting, each movement driving you closer to insanity. A particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot just right sends you over and you shattered.

Your thighs trembled as you came, your mouth wide open in a silent scream. The pleasure was overwhelming, all-consuming, and Jeno didn’t stop. He kept fucking you, forcing both your thighs to your chest as he chased his own release. His breaths were ragged, his muscles taut as he pushed himself over the edge. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he filled you.

“7 Minutes 43 seconds” Jaemin calls out showing everyone the time posted. Somewhere in all the chaos he found Renjun's phone.

Jeno didn’t pull out immediately, his forehead pressed against yours as he caught his breath. “Good girl,” he murmured loud enough for only you to hear.

Jeno finally pulled out with a grumble, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Someone didn’t stop the clock in time,” he muttered, shooting a pointed look at Jaemin, who only shrugged. You were too spent to sit up, laying still on the couch as your chest rose and fell with your labored breaths. Jaemin leaned down, stroking your cheek gently. “Good?” he asked, voice tender as he checked in on you.

You nodded weakly, your mind hazy and body still buzzing. Haechan took Jeno’s place and rolled the dice.

MOUTH

The others laughed at his luck but he only smiled wickedly. A shiver ran down your spine. They didn’t know the things Haechan could do with his mouth when he wasn’t running it.

Jaemin handed you back the timer and Haechan laid down between your legs on the couch, his face inches away from your used cunt. He blew air on your core teasingly causing your breath to hitch, you were still so sensitive. Haechan chuckles darkly, eyes boring into yours. “You ready baby?”

“Yes,” you whispered, starting the timer.

Haechan isn’t shy and he's not afraid of being a messy eater. Combine that with his competitive nature and you're in for it. He shoved his tongue deep inside you, curling it upward and tasting you with a satisfied hum. He didn’t care that he was eating his roommate’s cum from your pussy—if anything, it seemed to spur him on. He slurped away at the mix of your fluids like a whore. He was so nasty, so unapologetically filthy, and it was turning you on more than you cared to admit. You were already close and you couldn’t help the way you rocked your hips shamelessly against his face, clit bumping up against his nose deliciously. It was becoming too much and your thighs clamp down instinctively, trying to escape the growing overstimulation.

His arms pryed your thighs apart and pinned you down quickly. “None of that.” he tsked.

His fingers replaced his tongue, sliding deep inside you as he sucked harshly against your clit. He flicked his tongue expertly, scissoring you open with his fingers. The look in his eye was deadly. You couldn’t stop your hand from tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you rode his fingers. Your hips trembled, your body tensing up as he devoured you.

“Fuck, Haechan, don’t stop—I’m so close,” you begged, your voice breaking.

His lips found your clit again, humming against it before pulling off with a loud pop. His fingers rubbed at your clit messily, gliding back and forward easily through your slick. His tongue dived back in to lick you clean. It was all that you needed. You came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure ripped through you. He didn’t stop, rubbing your clit through your orgasm as you came on his tongue. He didn’t stop until your hips thrashed wildly, your moans filling the room.

“Time,” he reminded you and you scrambled to cut the timer.

3 minutes 35 seconds

You dropped the phone with a huff, your body sinking into the cushions as you tried to catch your breath. Haechan sat up with a triumphant smile, face soaked and glistening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You waited for him to move, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down, his face inches from yours.

“I’m not done. Everyone else got to have their fun with you, baby. It’s my turn,” he said, voice dangerous.

He had been rock hard for a while and he slipped into you, not bothering to take off any of his clothes. His cock stretched you, filling you completely, and you gasped at the sensation. He buried his face into your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples as he fucked you. His hips moved erratically, selfishly, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Haechan,” you gasped his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he buried himself into you again and again. He was so deep, so relentless, and you could feel him in your stomach with every thrust. He pulled out suddenly, stroking himself over your stomach. He had already been close due to him humping the cushions earlier. He wanted to make a mess of you. His cum splattered across your chest and stomach, hot and thick, and he groaned as he finished, his eyes locked on yours. It felt so disrespectful and degrading to do it but he loved it. You were his own little cum dumpster.

Haechan gave you a parting kiss when he finally moved off the couch. Before you could catch your breath Mark suddenly took his spot between your legs. You looked up at him in confusion, your mind still hazy from the intensity of Haechan’s attention.

“I’m sorry, baby girl. I need you,” he moaned, sinking into you without hesitation.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you, his hips slamming into your brutally. He regretted going first so badly, it was torture watching everyone else have their way with you. He was so fucking horny, he felt like he was going to die. He lifted your hips up off the couch and the new position hit deep. Your toes curled from the pleasure and you screamed. He knew you were probably still sensitive from Haechan, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He couldn’t slow down, not when you felt this good.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his voice strained as he drove into you harder, deeper. Your hands pushed at his waist, it was too good. He shook his head, his grip tightening as he forced you to meet his thrusts. “Be my good girl. Come on,” he grunted, his breathing ragged.

You shook your head, your body tensing as another orgasm ripped through you. He bit his lip, his hips stuttering as he came inside you. He dropped you back down on the couch like a rag doll, your body limp and spent.

Jaemin tapped your cheek, bringing your hazy vision back into focus. “Our princess is doing such a good job,” he praised you, his voice soft and sweet. “I’m so proud of you.”

You gave him a dopey smile, your mind foggy and body completely wrecked. You were out of it—fucked stupid by this point.

“Can our big girl take one more for me?” he asked, his touch caressing your shoulder soothingly.

You pouted, your bottom lip trembling. You were so tired, but you didn’t want to let him down.

“Come on, princess. You can take one more. I know you can,” he coaxed, his voice gentle but firm.

You gave him a nod, and he smiled, his pearly white teeth gleaming. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed.

He sat you up, taking the die that Haechan handed him and rolling…

FREE

Maybe the dice really was rigged

Jaemin looks over at you with a questioning gaze. "You sure you're up for it?" he asks again.

"Yes, sir," you reply, already slipping into your role.

He gives you a wicked grin. "In that case, stand up for me, pretty girl," he says, helping you to your feet.

You stand on shaky legs, and he grabs Renjun’s phone, still pulled up on the timer. "Don't drop it this time, princess," he warns, handing you the device, his eyes glinting with amusement.

He bends down, his hands cupping the back of your knees, signaling for you to jump. He lifts you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. The others look at the both of you curiously as Jaemin walks you over to the nearest wall and pins you up against it. He shoves his sweats and briefs down his thighs before lining himself up at your entrance.

“Start the time,” he said and once he hears the chime of the phone indicating that the time has started he slams into you.

You’re suspended in mid air pinned up against the wall, he uses you like you were nothing more than a sex doll. You were unable to move, your mouth made an o shape when you moaned and you stayed spread wide open for him. Maybe you were a sex doll.

You can feel the tears that stream down your face in overstimulation as he pounds into you. His lips steal your breath as he kisses you and his arms bulge as he keeps you lifted and steady for him.

"Touch yourself, princess," he instructs you, his voice muffled against your lips. Your free hand comes up, and shakily starts circling your clit. You moan, throwing your head back against the wall and your fingers falter, causing Jaemin to scold you, "Nuh-uh, baby, stay with me."

His hips don't slow, and he's fucking you so hard that the picture frames on the wall start to shake and threaten to fall. Jaemin's hips pick up an impossible pace, and you can feel yourself growing close to the edge. Your fingers play with yourself faster, trying to reach the climax.

“Thats right baby, almost there i can feel it” he moans “dirty pussy gripping me so fucking tight”

You moan at his words, and cum against him, pleasure washing over you. You stop the timer immediately, finally allowed to drop it from your grasp. You hear it clatter against the floor, followed by curses from Renjun. You slump against the wall behind you, and Jaemin helps you to your feet.

Jaemin picks you up and carries you back to the couch, and you all but welcome the soft cushions that support your body. You are dead tired. Renjun collects his forgotten phone and looks at the time stamped on the screen before showing it to the others. "4 minutes 19 seconds," he announces.

As you catch your breath, Haechan lets out a joyful whoop, while Jeno and Mark groan in response. Jaemin tends to you on the couch, checking in on you with a concerned expression. Mark gets up, announcing that he's going to run a bath for you, and the others begin to dress themselves or adjust their clothing. Jaemin helps you to the bathroom, where he and Mark carefully help you wash up, the warmth of the water soothing your tired muscles. The sounds of the others cleaning the living room filter through the closed door.

Later, you lay in Mark's bed, feeling exhausted but content. The others shuffle into the room, Renjun speaks first, "We're going to head back now, if that's okay. Do you need anything?" You shake your head sleepily and get cozy under the sheets.

“Rest up, ok?” Jaemin leans down to kiss your forehead before following Jeno and Renjun out of the room after they say their own goodbyes. Haechan lingers, a mischievous glint in his eye, and says to Mark, "Enjoy your time with her while you can, because starting tomorrow, she's all mine." He winks before leaving the room.

Mark jokingly rolls his eyes and gets up to lock the front door behind the others. When he returns to the room, he crawls under the sheets next to you and pulls you tight against his chest.

"Mark, I'm sorry," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I should have told you that I had something going on with the others."

Mark shrugs, his expression relaxed. "I was a little shocked when they told me, honestly. You just look so… innocent." He chuckles.

"Do you see me differently now?" you ask, a frown growing on your face.

Mark kisses your frown away, his lips gentle. "You're still my baby girl. I don't care what you do, nothing will ever change that."

He showers your face with kisses, making you giggle, and you playfully push him away. Then, you climb on top of him, straddling his hips.

"You're not tired?" he asks in amusement. You grin, feeling a surge of confidence. "I've got pretty good stamina," you say, leaning down to kiss him. "Plus, it’s like Haechan said, tomorrow I'm his, but tonight…" You trail off, your lips brushing against Mark's skin as you snake down his body.

Mark's eyes darken, and he whispered, "You're mine."

A/N: THE ENDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe ill do the HC spin off maybe i wont, you'll just have to see. Lets see how well this does and ill think about it.

a/n: all choices during the dice game were randomly selected except haechan, he originally got thigh but mouth was literally made for him so I changed it

[loves1ckmoth]

NEW TATTOO

Non-WLF!Abby x Reader

Warnings ♡: fem reader, they tease and argue in the beginning, reader has an attitude, they cuddle at the end, reader gives Abby a stick and poke, Abby gets her dad's birthday and name tattooed, my babies

Word count ♡: 1169 (heh)

Your day had been long, and with the storm outside, you were sure the night would be even longer. Abby sat beside you like she always did before bed. Tonight, she was sorting through everything you had gathered from the town you ran across today. She frowns as she takes out a plastic bag of ballpoint pens.

“Did you need to grab these?” She grumbles, inspecting them. “Of course I did! How else am I supposed to cover your arms with tattoos?” You say jokingly, but the way she eyes you tells you that she does not take it as such. “How the hell would you tattoo me with these? Don’t they use a different ink? And a whole gun?”

You roll your eyes and snatch the bag from her, pulling one out. “You take out all the ink from these and put it into something. I like to use those old bottle caps from sodas. Then, you take a needle or something of the sort and stab a pattern onto yourself.

She looks disturbed, shooting you a weird look. “That doesn’t sound right at all. Isn’t there ink poisoning and infections from the needles? I wouldn’t trust you within five feet of me if you were going to do that.”

You groan, leaning over and falling into her lap. You press the back of your hand to your forehead, whimpering in faux pain. “You wound me… Implying I would hurt you… You’re so awful to me.” Once you’re finished whining, you peek up at her to see her reaction. She’s not amused.

“Are you quite done?” She says snarkily, and you sit up. You roll your eyes and she wants to smack you upside the head for your attitude, but the way your mouth quirks up and she can see your smile lines after teasing her makes it bearable. “Why can’t you be fun? I’d only do something simple. I’ve done it to myself before and I turned out fine.” She raises a brow and looks you over as if to say, ‘Did you?’ “I did, dammit!” You shout.

She finally grins, grabbing her stomach as she starts to laugh. It stuns you. All you can do is watch and stare. Her eyes crinkle at the corners and her nose scrunches. Her hair flies over her shoulder as she leans back. Was it that funny? As her laughter dies down to soft heaves and she rubs tears from her eyes, she looks back at your starstruck expression.

“‘M sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I shouldn’t laugh at you.” She says as she finally manages to recuperate. You frown finally, leaning back against the wall and studying the pen that’s still in your hands. “So you won’t let me do it?” You ask softly. She leans back with you, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m just wary. I don’t want to get sick or hurt from it. But where would you put it? What would you put?” You also take a moment to think before tilting your head to face her. You like it when it’s quiet like this. Despite your fear of the storm taking down the house you’re staying in, you like the way her nose looks against the dark, rainy window. You wanna reach out and touch it? It’s not like it’s normal for you to poke her randomly but this time would feel too intimate.

“I’d like to put something on your arms. They’re so big and bulky and empty. I don’t want to do your stomach, That hurts a lot more. As for what… I’m not sure.” She hums quietly, messing with her arms as your gaze drops down to them. They might be your favorite part of her. The way they’re so huge, the way the muscles underneath ripple when she chops them, the way they feel around your neck and you start getting lightheaded… Yeah. You like it all.

“Do you have any quotes from books you like? Or maybe a name or a date?” You ask softly. A strange haze drops over her eyes and her brows furrow. She looks concentrated. “A date and a name. On my arm. Would you do that?” Even if you weren’t over the moon about doing it, you know you wouldn’t be able to tell her no. Not when that familiar mournful look takes control of her face.

“Of course, I would. Is it him and his birthday?” She nods solemnly. You don’t need to say his name. You both know. You’re sure if you said her dad's name aloud she’d finally break down in front of you. Out of all the walls she erected, most have fallen except that one. You want to see her finally surrender it all into your hands, but you’ll wait patiently for it. It feels better like that.

“I saw a soda bottle outside earlier. I’ll clean it up in the rain. You can use that spare needle from the sewing kit in my pack.” She says as she gets up and you’re quick to follow orders. Her bag is a maze to navigate and it frustrates you every time you have to look in it. You’re convinced only she can navigate it.

Once she’s back with the bottle, you’ve managed to find the needle. She sits in front of you as you get the ink from the pens into the cap. She rolls up her sleeve for you and places it in your lap. You gently draw out the date and her father's name with one of the pens that’s still intact.

You hum quietly, offering a gentle hand as you get to work on her. She likes the way your brows furrow as you concentrate and watching you stick out your tongue manages to distract her from your arm. It begins to come out nicely and she’s pleasantly surprised.

You pull back after a while and stretch, your body trembling. She bites the inside of her cheek as your shirt rides up, barely constraining herself from grabbing your midriff. “You done?” She asks quietly. When you nod, she takes her half-asleep arm off your lap and looks it over.

You study her face, waiting for a response. “Is it any good?” She huffs, barely holding back tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” You smile brightly, incredibly proud of your work. You clean up the space as a bright flash floods the house. She holds up a finger to silence you as she counts the time until the thunder comes, making the house shake. She sighs in relief once it passes. “It’s a ways away. We’ll be fine for the night.”

She moves with you now, helping set up a pallet on the floor next to the dying fire. Once it’s all laid out, she grabs you by the hip and pulls you into her. “Lay down and rest. Let me help you sleep.” You let out a soft breath and melt into her, finally collapsing for the night.

Hi everyone!! Back with Abby again because I missed her ૮ ྀི◞͈ ˔ ◟͈ ྀིა ♡♡ reblogs and likes are the most appreciated ♡

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Multifandom Preference: Being petite and very short compared to them // PT. 2

This is dedicated to the people who commented on part one: @robin-the-enby @maria-moll @agentfandom @whoneedtheyantonchigussyate @humanfleshismeat and @kennedyisityou

Content/Warnings: Once again kinda size kink coming through, might read a bit like objectification in some instances, Definitely some Sadism in the Hannibal section, Gender neutral Reader

Anton Chigurh

He likes the practicality of it a lot, honestly Anton considers you travel sized at this point because he can hide you easily if there's trouble and then come back later to where he deposited you after he's done dealing with whoever was after you. He's not the Gentleman type at all but seeing how pathetic you carried your bags when he started to bodyguard you around was enough to decide that he would take those for the rest of time. Will look at you with a mixture of amusement and condenscation when you try anyway before taking the luggage away from you. If you protest he will carry you like luggage as well, I dare you. But sometimes he will just observe you, look at you while you get on your tiptoes, climb into bed ect that makes you very aware that he is fond of your height in some way.

Brahms Heelshire

Since he can't have anyone see him, he makes sure to put one of his sweaters or cardigans on you whenever he knows some delivery person or similar is coming by. It really is a mixture of possessiveness and loving to see your frame swallowed in clothing his size, while you just think he's worried if you get cold. Brahms is spoiled as hell but he also really enjoys doing things for you, and when he decides to make dinner for you both he likes lifting you up to sit on the counter and watch him. It's just so terribly easy, it excites him whenever he finds a reason to do it. Especially when it means getting to wrap his arms around you for a moment and taking in your scent- even while you go on capture a bug on the ceiling with a glass or something while he holds you up.

Dennis

It's hard to keep his distance at all times, even though he certainly tries his best to adhere to that self set rule. Dennis is strong, the strongest after the Beast itself out of the horde, so he is well aware of what his body is capable of doing if he were to let that cautiousness slip. But nonetheless, accidents happen. Like when you nearly fell unconscious and he had to catch you, or when you nearly did something dangerous and he had to reach out and grab your arm. In both occasions you halted insteadly, flinching when his hand firmly pressed onto your hip or caught onto your wrist. It made a pleasant shiver run through him, this ambiguity of wanting and not wanting to be close to you because of the implied vulnerability of your height drives him mad. But you will not hear a word from him about it, only see him press his lips together and huff or sigh in contained frustration.

Hannibal Lecter

He is outwardly very considerate and Gentlemanly toward you, pacing his steps when you walk together or taking over the umbrella in one case because you can't really hold it up his head as well without extending your arm like an athlete with an Olympic torch. But when you happen to get your leg hurt, just a little, it is exhilarating to him. Seeing your composure shift from a functional person to something alike an injured bunny is so damn amusing and befitting of that height difference. He will gently guide you to sit on his couch and touch your ankle to put it up while he goes to fetch his first aid kit in the other room. Hannibal will be so forthcoming, because seeing you whine and squirm a little while he puts on a bandage is satisfactory enough to return the favor and make sure you are well cared for and get comfortable. He makes you your favorite drink and will make sure permit you lean on him or grab onto him as to not put pressure on the injured leg while you put on your shoes or something while he patiently gazes down on you.

If you liked it please comment!

Tip Jar

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Bunny I just finished watching Jumper and I'm obsessed??? 😭 I could only find like, 3 fics about David (yours included, i loved it btw ✋🏻😞) so I thought about requesting something from my favorite writer

I don't have any specific idea so I guess I'll take anything. Here's Leia the egg as an offering 🫴🏻🥚

Luv ya - 🦢

STOLEN BY A JUMPER..

PAIRING: david rice x thief!reader

You were stupid for not seeing him coming.

One second, you were standing in the middle of a private vault, fingers skillfully working over the golden lock of a case that held something very expensive—something you had been paid a lot of money to steal, to bring back to the ugly-ass man that made sure to stuff your bank account full of cash.

Well, what happened the next?

Your stomach lurched, vision suddenly blurred as you felt like you were literally floating in sleep, like you just got hit in the head, and before you could even think about screaming, you were somewhere else. With a painful sigh that echoed from your pounding head, you brought yourself to open your eyes, trying to at least adjust them to the situation, trying to use them as your source of information. Because as y/n, you weren't known for being defeated so fast.

A cabin. Remote. Quiet. Four walls. Dim lamps lighting the space. And standing in front of you, looking thoroughly unimpressed, was the man who had just ripped you from your own goddamn reality.

DAVID RICE; tall (for someone who made you see red), broad shoulders framed by that worn leather jacket, dark hair, sharp blue eyes piercing you in half like you were a problem he was debating how to solve.

“Well,” he said, voice smooth, a little mocking. “You must have some serious balls, sweetheart.”

Pulse thundered in your ears, but you tried your expression cool. Calm. You didn’t survive in this business by panicking. You had to think. It's not like you meet a freak for the first time.

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

David’s jaw only clenched more, before a flash of irritation crossed his face. “Try again,” he said, stepping closer. Too close. “You broke into my vault. My money. My shit.” gaze flickered down to the duffel still clutched in your hand. “And you were gonna walk away with it like I wouldn’t notice?”

You lifted your chin with more confidence and energy this time, fingers tightening its hold over the bag. “Finders keepers.”

How you should know it was a bad move..

David moved fast—faster than any normal man should probably be able to. One second, he was in front of you, the next he was behind you, hand fisting in your jacket before the world tilted again—

You were falling.

The cold air whipped at your skin, your eyes widening at the clouds that passed you by, at the sharp nibbling the wind did to your skin. You barely had a second to process the fact that you were free-falling through the goddamn sky before—

thud

You landed hard on a rooftop, your side slamming into the concrete. Your breath ripped from your lungs, the impact jarring, disorienting, your world twirling..

You're about to throw up. You're about to throw up.

With a wince of a person who's about to lose her life, you moved your hand to where your ribs were, trying to magically smooth the painful, sharpening like a needle, pain.

And David?

He landed like nothing had happened at all.

After taking some steps towards you, he crouched, gaze sharp, smug amusement curling his lips as if your situation was even.. satisfying for him.

“That,” he said, gripping your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to his, “was a warning.”

Your heart hammered, pulse wild, but you refused to let him see your fear. To let him see how weak you started to get. By one freaking movement of his..right..what was even that? His mind? His hands? His..how did he do that?

“So you’re a show-off,” you bit out, wrenching away from his hold. Too weakly. Too painfully. “Congratulations.”

David chuckled. Actually chuckled. “Oh, you’re fun.”

You lunged for him, intending to—what? Punch him? Tackle him? You weren’t exactly sure but everything seemed to be reasonable when you had to take care of a real piece of shit

But before you could even touch him—

The world shifted again.

You were back in the cabin.

Your knees buckled, body reeling from the constant shifts, ribs screaming at you, making you dizzy, making you choke on your own breath, but David? David just stuffed his hands into his pockets and grinned at you.

“Go ahead,” he said, watching as you steadied yourself against the wall. “Try to run.”

You glared at him, fists clenched. “You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?”

He laughed, moving towards the fridge like this was just another normal night for him. Like kidnapping you was just another thing on his to-do list for today.

Great. Just freaking great.

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing a beer. “I’ve been told.”

You watched him, mind racing, calculating, pain still flickering through your body, making sure you never forget about it. How the hell were you supposed to escape someone who could teleport?

You had no idea. But you’d be damned if you didn’t find out soon.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[ratsplendor]

so this post was on my dash last night and i woke up still thinking about it. bc i really do feel like we get a lot of internalized homophobia!Wilson, due to the very comphet of it all, but i think there's some really interesting angles you can play with from this perspective, too. & of course end up with some major angst lol.

so. i kind of ended up going on a long ass ramble here. i've stuck it under a readmore for those who're just scrolling. thanks for putting up with me lol

the main thing i'm thinking about is like...the huge, Stacy-left-me-shaped chip on his shoulder. because how many straight guys do you know who have made their breakup this massive personality trait/let it take the blame for their behavior for years afterwards? i know so many! "wife left me, i joined the NRA" type shit.

in this situation you're describing, i think the breakup is a huge part of how this plays out. because: 1. any feelings he has for men after that are just because she fucked him up so bad. and 2. yes, he's upset she left, why wouldn't he be? he certainly wasn't relieved, secretly, that she pulled the trigger, that she gave him an excuse to push her away. he certainly wasn't tired of pretending, especially given his new condition, which makes it harder to mask. that would be crazy.

so he latches on to this post-breakup, miss-her-but-resent-her pattern of behavior because it's an easy cover for whatever else he's feeling, on two separate fronts. and then she comes back. he finds out Wilson is trying to keep them apart and for a split second, he hopes it's because Wilson's jealous, and he hates that he feels that so much that he throws himself back into manic Stacy-mode again, to the point of being party to her marriage nearly breaking up. a guy who breaks up his ex's marriage is definitely straight! right??

i think a lot of the time we get House being portrayed as the one who's settled with himself because he has this air of hedonism about him, and he enjoys being the contrarian/making people uncomfortable, and doesn't appear to care what other people think. but of course, we see that's especially untrue where his father is concerned. in a world where nothing was off limits to House, we'd expect to see him weaponizing the abuse as part of the way he makes people uncomfortable, right? instead, he's so quiet about it that even Wilson doesn't know well enough to not make him go to the funeral. it's a product of a time when certain things belonged behind closed doors. so there are some things that are off limits to House. joking about being gay is one thing, it gets a rise out of people, but he doesn't allow himself the real thing because 1. he's not gay and 2. it's so bound up in the complexity of the first few decades of his life. which he doesn't talk about, not even to make people squirm. most young people start to contend with their sexuality while still living at home...on base housing, where it felt like there were eyes everywhere, and with a father like John House. then, like you said, came the AIDS crisis, and how many tirades do you think John probably went off on? with his son, the doctor, on the phone with him? the voice that told him how to be a man is asking if he's really gonna treat those fags or not. what do you do?

i'll end this by saying, as a kid who grew up with base brats of several types, i've always found it really interesting + sorely underexplored that House is referred to so often just by surname. i know it's a thing among medical folk, too, but undoubtedly, when his father's buddies came around, they were calling him House. hell, i knew kids whose mothers called their fathers by surname. i've always found this interesting because if House didn't choose it, if it's something that just happened organically during med school, did it hurt at first? and if he did choose it, in this case, would it be because it felt like being a man? his father, the model he had for "real" masculinity growing up--would taking up his name in his early adulthood feel like a shortcut to a male ideal that he was so desperately struggling to align with?

thinking about internalised homophobia House. I normally headcanon him as openly bi (but maybe repressed or in denial about being in love with Wilson), but I like the idea of his suggestive gay comments being a cover because he's so far in denial and gay jokes are a way of being like "haha isn't it so ridiculous and subversive to suggest I'm gay? I'm doing this for the shock value because I'm obviously straight", in the same way straight guys think gay jokes are the funniest thing in the world

his homophobic military dad and becoming independent and coming of age in the 1980s and only hearing about gay people during the AIDS crisis left him with some fucked up ideas and attitudes about gay people (and himself. and what it means to be a man)

if Wilson ever tries to confess feelings for House (or if they fall into each other on a drunken night), House would absolutely withdraw, run away, push Wilson away because House isn't gay

House then dating a woman to prove to Wilson (and everyone. and himself) that he's normal and straight

eventually, if he and Wilson start seeing each other, House would rationalise it as "technically homosexual, but not like those other gays". maybe he'd also withdraw in public where anyone could see them, and try to suppress the emotional side of things ("this is just physical, don't be a fag about it")

meanwhile, Wilson is desperately trying to be okay with the scraps of affection he gets from House, but it's killing him. he's not doing well. after pining over House for so long (knowingly? unknowingly? you decide), he didn't think it would feel like this. but maybe this is the best he deserves

[serxa]

THE PRINCE HAS TO LEARN THE HARD WAY—PART 3—THIRTEEN

PART 1 PART 2

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: It's Telemachus' last day with Y/n. Yet he absolutely failed making his time with her worth.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Telemachus

Sorry if this took SOOO long to post, Wattpad has been bugging recently, and yes, I write in wattpad but post it here. Thank you for all the support:)

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 Telemachus had been working for Y/n's family business. When Y/n's father started to notice that he was finally getting good at pottery, even learning the clay animals thanks to Y/n, he decided he'll let him work for one more day until he sends him off.

But Telemachus doesn't know that today was his last day of work. He happily walked towards the market, with his bag of scrolls and parchment that had all of the sales he had made the past few weeks he has been working for Y/n's family business.

When he met up with Y/n, oh God's how he thought she was absolutely drop dead gorgeous. But Y/n doesn't know anything about Telemachus' feelings. Hell, not even Telemachus knows for himself. He denies it, saying she's just a work colleague... She's a lot oblivious than she really is. "Morning, Tel." Y/n waved at him while he walked over.

He felt a weight on his shoulder suddenly disappear and waved back. "Morning Y/n." He smiled softly and they started walking to the shop to open up. Telemachus choice to work early and to get off the same time Y/n does too, which did make Penelope and Y/n's parents cock an eyebrow at him, but they just agreed.

"Could you open the shutters for me?" Y/n sighed, stretching a bit. She's different from the normal girls here in Ithica. Almost every woman is wearing chitons and doesn't help in shops, yet, Y/n is an amazing person with pottery and sculpting, working at her parents shop, and wearing a tunic and their long sleeve uniforms.

"Yeah, of course." Telemachus murmured before opening the draped and shutters. They started unpacking the stuff, putting them back onto the shelves, tracking what's the hottest deals, counting how many left are in stock and if they need to sculpt. "I'm so.. Tired." Y/n murmured, yawning as she stretched back once again.

"What time did you sleep?" Telemachus asked as he carefully unpacked the glass swan he was holding. "A bit late than usual.." She answered as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her palm. Telemachus smiled softly at the look of her sleepy state. "Need, I don't know, coffee? After unpacking we could get a cup and go back here.." Telemachus offered as he put the storage box away. Y/n thought about the offer and smiled, nodding. "Yeah, sure.." She agreed, as she started to help unpack.

As the two did their own business, Y/n's father appeared and started to have a bit of small talk with them, before he looked over at Telemachus. "Boy, it's your last day, me and your mother agreed on it. We saw that you have been a good help here in the shop, and I think you've paid much more than enough for your debt here." He smiled at Telemachus.

When Telemachus heard her father's statement, he suddenly felt a weight of his shoulders add, his shoulder sagging a bit. When he was finally getting attached to the shop, loving pottery, enjoying waking up early, and being her, oh especially being with her. He glanced over at Y/n who was also staring at him. "O-Oh, uh.." He turned his eyes back to Y/n's father. "Yeah, thank you for letting me know." Telemachus forced a smile.

Once Y/n's father left, ne continued to unpack. "Is there anymore boxes?" He asked Y/n, who was starting to open the drums of clay. "Uhh.." She turned her head to see nothing but empty storage boxes. "None, so.. About that coffee." She smiled at Telemachus, that practically made him weak to the knees and toes.

"Oh, still want to grab a cup?" He smiled, and she immediately nodded, taking her small pouch of money. As they walked through the market, since the coffee grounds and coffee shops were at the very end, Telemachus noticed how weary Y/n was today.

She was limply walking as she counted her money. "Everything alright?" Telemachus asked, putting his hands in his pocket as they walked with a small distance between them. "Yeah, just tired.." She murmured, which Telemachus still didn't believe, but didn't want to push her too much.

He started to lean closer as they continued walking, and Y/n catched on. She hooked her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder, which made Telemachus feel a sort of giddy inside him, but he quickly shoved it away. 'This is just to help her..' He reminded himself as they reach the small coffee and tea shop.

Y/n took her arm away from Telemachus' and ordered two cups of coffee for them. As they waited Telemachus was whistling, a new skill he actually learned a day ago. "Didn't know you could whistle." Y/n suddenly commented, which made him stop and smile sheepishly. "Yeaaah just.. Learned a new trick."

"New trick? Are you a dog? It's skill." Y/n corrected him. Telemachus was used to Y/n correcting him like this, but there are times where they both act dumb which they ask her parents for help then. "Right, skill." Telemachus nodded and they got their cup of coffee.

They sat on the small tables outside of the standee and started to drink their coffee. "I love their coffee, it a different flavor." Y/n admired the cup of coffee while she kicked her legs from under the table. "It has a zest to it." Telemachus stated as he blew the coffee to cool it down. "I know! That's why I love it." Y/n said happily, her charismatic and energetic side showing again.

"There's that energy." Telemachus raised his eyebrows, smiling at Y/n as he watched Y/n get her energy back. "Well, a good cup of coffee is what a simple person like me needs to get the day started." She said proudly. "Woah woah, too many syllables." Telemachus teased as he raised his hands playfully, making Y/n scoff and chuckle. "I'm sorry that your teeny tiny brain can't comprehend more than 16 syllables in one statement." She retorted with a teasing smirk.

Telemachus sipped his coffee and rolled his eyes playfully. "Hey, I can comprehend! I can comprehend good." He laughed and Y/n couldn't help but laugh also. Once they finishes their cup of coffee, and started walking back to the shop, they saw the other standee's and shops start to open also, restocking, opening shutters, all of that.

When they were back in the shop, up and running, Telemachus was practicing how to mold clay animals as Y/n read a book, both of them waiting for rush hour, where all of the sales pile in. Y/n looked up at Telemachus, watching as his eyebrows knit together as he carefully sculpted the play, wearing their uniforms and his hair tousled. He kept a serious expression, really all his attention on the sculpting clay in his hands, carefully holding it, not squeezing it or anything, just carefully holding it so it would turn out good.

Y/n turned her attention back to her book, shaking her head a bit as to remind herself about what she was reading. After a while, the customers started to pile in, and the two worked diligently with their tasks. Meanwhile, in Telemachus' head, was just one thing. Today was his last day of work. He won't be able to see Y/n unless he goes to the market, but he doesn't want to be obvious also!

He served one customer and once they left, he started to turn a plan in his head, the years turning with a crinking sound with each turn, trying to form a plan on how to spend time with her. It's already twelve in the afternoon, Y/n's parents giving the two food and as they ate, Telemachus was trying to find a reason to continue working here. It's hardest to explain to his mother, Penelope, especially that he doesn't want his mother to know or at least expect he likes someone now.

Does he even like her? He was in a spiral, not even getting his own feelings, how is Y/n able going to comprehend them? He sighed before taking a big bite of food before looking up at Y/n, who was starting to talk about her book. Telemachus smiled softly, humming after every statement, indicating that she was listening to her yapping. "But the author only made this book! It's annoying, only this? Their writing is ethereal!" She rambled, making Telemachus chuckle softly as he watched her grumble over the book.

"Maybe I could read it also once your done.." He murmured. "I mean, sure, you can. Only if I'm done." She smiled and Telemachus nodded in agreement. "Deal?" He raised his hand for a hand shake, which she gladly took. Telemachus couldn't help but think about how soft her hands were, like you just put ten pounds of lotion on their hands, and how warm her hands were.

Y/n on the other hand, couldn't help but think how soft his hand were also. And how bigger they were compared to hers. His hand was skinny and lean also, just like him, but his fingers were long and could easily clasp around her entire hand. Once they pulled away and continued eating, Telemachus could feel his cheeks burn a bit, indicating he was blushing. He quickly got rid of it before Y/n could notice his blush.

"The delas set, you're reading the book after I do and you're going to talk to me all about it!" She giggled, making Telemachus smile, knowing that Y/n also wants to continue talking to him even though he wouldn't be working there anymore. "Mhm." He took another spoonful of food, bringing it up to his mouth and ate it, watching as Y/n did that same. The two were finally starting to warm up to eachother..

Once the clock ticked three in the afternoon, Telemachus knew it was time for his out from work. He hadn't formulated a decent plan that wouldn't get him into too much trouble, so he just decided to let go and stop working, his contract was off and he wasn't sure if they we're even finding a new employee. And gosh, how shy he was to go back here everyday just to spend time with Y/n, its a stupid thing, really. He's just making it look like he likes her...

As he took the boxes from the storage room to unpack all of the vases and animals, he looked over at Y/n. "So how's your last day? Feeling happy that you're finally out of this hell hole?" She smirked as she leaned on the table, watching as he unpacked, placing the work of arts in the boxes for future sellings.

"Actually, I might miss it." He shrugged. "I know I don't get paid, nor I haven't even stayed here for more than 2 months, but I gotten used to how we do stuff around here. And our morning coffees. Lunches with you.. Free time with you. Y'know?" He chuckled awkwardly after realizing that he was rambling about you, wishing you don't catch on and think that he likes you, cause even he wasn't sure if he did. "Huh, really?" She said, propping herself on her palms, her tone dripping with tease.

"Hey, don't tease me now." He chuckled, making her grin. "I apologize, Prince of Ithica." She said softly, knowing she would have to start using that title once again. "Pssh, hearing that from you is a new thing." He chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "What? It's true though." She giggled as Telemachus put the boxes back in the storage room.

"But hearing it form you is new.." He hummed, taking his bag, knowing that this might be their last conversation before he hides himself in his room, too scared to even look at her, knowing his feelings would just drive him into the biggest spiral mess he has ever been in before. Simply just by looking at her, makes him think that he likes you. But he also knows that he doesn't. But knowing that he likes you, also makes him remember he doesn't like you. It's really confusing, for him also.

He just wanted to nestle inside of his room and never look at her ever again. How is he going to ever explain this to her is he decided to confess? Does he need to get his shit and thoughts straight? He doesn't want to hurt her with false hope.. Suddenly, a snap made him shake his head, coming back to reality. "Huh?" He blinked, as he saw a confused Y/n in front of him, still leaning on the table she was leaning to earlier.

"You going home now?" She asked, tapping the table as she had a soft frown on her face. "Oh.. Uh-.. Yeah, I do. I-I am, sorry." He turned pink as he stumbled on his words. Y/n smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, so.. Let's go and close." She said softly taking the keys and her bag. As they closed the shutters and put back the drapes, Y/n suddenly felt a sense of longing. She didn't want to see Telemachus leave yet. Everything was so confusing.

"Uh.. I'll see you... Whenever I see you?" Telemachus said awkwardly, making Y/n's shoulders sag a bit as she realized that Telemachus wasn't planning on seeing her tomorrow. "Ah.. Uh, yeah.. Yeah, see you whenever I see you." She repeated, forcing a soft smile he normally gives him. Telemachus nodded and looked around before his eyes travelled back to you. "Bye.." He murmured.

"Bye."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

After a few days after Telemachus' last day, it was all so boring, no one to hang out with any more, and no more reason to wake up early again.

"It's been a while since you and Y/n have talked. You aren't going out of the house much again." Penelope said as Telemachus was hanging out in his parents room, as Penelope weaved a shroud. Telemachus suddenly froze at the mention of her name.

Y/n, the girl who was messing with his head. He never knew what love felt like. Is it supposed to make your her at ache or make you confused? Is it supposed to be annoyingly stubborn and never leave your head? How he feels about Y/n, gosh he just admits it, he likes her. He likes Y/n. How he misses his mornings, noons and nights with her, how the two talk about their interests and later on find out that you two both like that one topic. He loves how her eyes lights up when she see's him walking towards the market, how she leans on a nearby wall, table or chair as she watches Telemachus work...

How... Pretty she is.

Telemachus cleared his throat and started. "... I just... I just w. Have something in my head about Y/n." He started off, making Penelope curious. "That is..?" She waited as she continued weaving. "... I may or may not be developing big feelings for her, like big big, like big that I want to he with her. As a.. Partner.." He rambled. Making Penelope raise her eyebrows. Seeing Telemachus in love is not normal, he had always been busy protecting his mother from the suitors, being by her side as they longed for Odysseus to get home, so seeing him Inlove, is a crazy scenario.

"It's just.. She's so diligent. So hard working, she could serve up to 10 customers at once and could do pottery and sculpting. Gosh, in a span of short weeks, she managed to teach me how to do pottery... And how pretty she is, her eyes soften when she looks at me, her smile is so perfect with every crease and dimple forming on her cheeks and chin, even the side of her eyes creases when she smiled, her nose scrunching up when she's focused,she's like a rabbit, I swear, she's adorable." He rambled to his mother, covering his face as he groaned in his hands.

Penelope chuckled softly and hummed, looking at his now, lovesick son. "... You know... You could take the risk to be with her.. See if she likes you back." Penelope reassured her son as she counted the strings and skeins of yarn for her shroud. "I just.. I need time. I can turn my face towards her just yet, I need to let my feelings straight. Thanks mother." He sighed, standing up. "It's a good idea for making sure first." She hummed. When she saw Telemachus stand up, she cleared her throat. "Bye now, Telemachus." She smiled softly and he just waved goodbye. "Bye mother."

Fun fact, I wrote the last paragraph half asleep, so I apologize if it sounds nonsense