#i might take. a croissant.

[gorillaxyz]

i had dinner tonight (everyone cheers) it was so fucking good........... fuck

[pixelglam]

Some non sims photos of my life recently since I haven’t been posting much on here 🤍

[extervus]

Why don't you sit on your porch with a yummy drink in the late morning sun and then maybe you'll calm down

[owlsinpants]

Can't tell you the amount of times I've bitten into a croissant and it turned out to be bear claws where can I get one

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[starkeysbunny]

espresso [rafe cameron]

“oh he looks so cute, wrapped round my finger..” ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe doesn’t do relationships, cuddling, kisses, and sweetness. strictly no commitment hookups had sufficed. that was until he met the girl at the coffee shop.

warnings - nothing rlly, just super sweet whipped rafe

Rafe was heartless. Cold. Rough. Any situation he had with girls was nothing more than that—a situation, a fling. He had absolutely zero desire to be in anything committed.

To his friends, his sisters, his family, and his hookups—he was a mean, heartless monster. (Only tolerating Wheezie, of course.)

And he liked it that way.

No one expected anything from him, no one bored him with their feelings. It made his life so much easier not being overly concerned about the well-being of others.

But today, when Wheezie dragged Rafe to some fancy coffee shop she’s been wanting to visit, his philosophy flew out the window.

“Yeah, I’ll have the caramel latte with cold foam,” the young girl recites her order. “Oh! And a chocolate croissant.”

“Yeah, for sure!” I smile at her, typing her order into the till. “Anything for you?” I turn my attention to the man next to her, presumably a father or brother—probably brother, he seems younger.

He doesn’t say anything, his gaze remaining intent on my features, like my words flew right past his ears.

“Um.. sir? Did you want anything?”

The girl next him sighs, shoving his shoulder. “Stop staring at her you creep.”

His head shakes, like he was snapped out of a trance. He comes to the situation at hand, pinching the bridge of his nose “I’m sorry, that was probably creepy, my bad,” he chuckles awkwardly. The girl next to him makes a face at him, surprised by his actions.

“It’s okay,” I smile. “I zone out a lot too,” I let out a small giggle, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

He grins, “Yeah, um, I’ll take a macchiato, thanks.”

“Great, and could I get a name for the order?”

“Whe—“

“Rafe,” he interjects. I grin, writing his name down.

He pays for the drinks, smiling at me before going to find a table with the girl.

-

“What was that?” Wheezie questions loudly.

“Shut it, Wheeze. I was zoned out, is all.”

She blows out a puff of air, “Yeah right, me and that barista could practically see the drool falling out of your mouth the second you laid eyes on—“

I kick Wheezie’s leg under the table when that same pretty barista comes by with our drinks.

“One caramel latte with cold foam and a chocolate croissant,” She smiles sweetly, placing the pastry and sugary drink in front of Wheezie. “And one macchiato for Rafe.”

When my name rolls off her tongue, I swear I see stars. She says it with a sweetness I’ve never heard before. Her voice so soft and kind. As she’s placing the drink in front of me, all I can think about it how much I wish I knew her name.

So, I incite a moment for her to tell me. “Thank you…” I pause, trailing off.

“Oh, Y/n!” She says, surprise I asked such a question.

Y/n. So fitting. It’s perfect.

“That’s a pretty name,” for a pretty girl, I wish to say.

She grins, her cheeks flushing a shy pink. “Thanks, if you guys need anything else, let me know!” She informs before wandering off.

Once she’s out of ear shot, Wheezie begins. “Might as well go kiss her over the coffee beans.”

“Oh, shut up, Wheeze.”

one year later

I walk through the doors of Tannyhill like I have so many times before, it’s become a second home.

“Hi, sweetie.” Rose says from the living room where she sips on a glass of wine, reading a book.

“Hi, Rose! Do you know where—“

“He’s in the gym with Topper and Kelce. Beware I hear a lot of groaning and shouting. Too much testosterone for their own good.” She jokes.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I head to the side of the house near the garage where the gym is. The blasting of rap music grows louder the closer I get along with the clanking of weights, and occasional grunts.

I open the door and see Topper and Kelce doing pull ups while Rafe bench presses. Rafe can’t see me due to obviously needing to stay focused.

“Hey, Y/n,” Topper greets, jumping down from the pull up bar.

Before I could ever reply with a greeting, Rafe hooks up the bench press, sitting up quickly. “Y/n?” He smiles, his smile faltering when he turns back toward his friends. “Aye, Kelce, turn that shit down.”

He gets up, walking toward me and pushing me out the door and back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him and his hands find their spot on my waist, a grin taking home on his lips. “Hey baby.”

I smile, my cheeks flushing pink. “Hi.”

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into my skin that’s exposed near the hemline of my shirt.

My hands run up his chest, manicured nails running along the collar of his shirt. “Nothin’… just missed you is all.”

“Yeah?” He questions, that sly smirk on his lips. “You missed me, baby?”

“Yeah, come hang out with me? We can just stay upstairs or we can go to the beach maybe? Or go get lunch, hm?” I coo, my hands now running along his jaw, studying his every feature.

“Whatever you wanna do, my love. Just wanna spend time with you.” He leans in, his lips kissing their favorite spots along my jaw and neck. He pauses for a moment when he hears childish giggles from the other side of the door.

Topper and Kelce walk out, teasing grins on their faces. “I missed you baby,” Topper mocks. “I missed you more, come kiss me and spend time with me, please Y/n. Let me worship the ground you—“

Kelce was cut off by a rough punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Shit, Rafe. Not my fault you’re whipped.”

Topper and Kelce chuckle, walking past us toward the front door. “Try that shit again and you won’t be able to walk out of here!” Rafe threatens.

“Oh cmon, Rafe. They just know you’re wrapped around my finger,” I say loud enough for them to hear.

“Ain’t that the motherfuckin’ truth!” Topper shouts before shutting the front door behind him.

Rafe buries his head in my shoulder, “Baby, you’re just egging them on.”

I chuckle, “Sorry, you’re just so cute all wrapped around my finger.”

He looks back in my eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m whipped and I’m proud.”

I chuckle, slapping his chest playfully as I drag him upstairs.

[astonmartinii]

we don’t play about halloween | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem reader

max doesn’t play about three things: formula one, his cats and his girlfriend’s love for halloween

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 607,344 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: yes we dress up to carve pumpkins, it’s rude if you don’t.

view all comments

user1: gosh they are so cute

user2: did max just dress as himself whenever he’s within 5ft of y/n?

maxverstappen1: i get why the americans don’t play about the statue of liberty

yourusername: i think they should build one of you in zandvoort

maxverstappen1: and they still wouldn’t worship it as much as i worship you

yourusername: i literally light candles in your name and pray for you with you mum, i think i worship you more sorry

maxverstappen1: the ONLY loss i’ll take

user3: i feel lonely year round because of them but it’s SO much worse during halloween

user4: they are the definition of the couple costume they invented it and they PERFECTED it

landonorris: i thought your apartment was a safe space, why did i get harassed over my costume?

yourusername: it was more of the lack of costume? “streamer” does not count

landonorris: who actually dresses up to carve pumpkins?

maxverstappen1: COOL PEOPLE

yourusername: imagine not dressing up and having an awful pumpkin … could never be me

landonorris: STOP BULLYING ME

maxverstappen1: do better then.

user5: obsessed with how peace and love y/n is for the whole year but as soon as someone doesn’t care about halloween it’s fight time

charles_leclerc: remind me to never accept an invite to a halloween event at the verstappen-l/n household - far TOO much stress

yourusername: but you’re like the only one who deserves an invite to next year because the air max costume slayed

maxverstappen1: i might even let you back on it

charles_leclerc: might???

maxverstappen1: follow me on instagram

yourusername: 2019 was so long ago we really need to move on

danielricciardo: you seriously underestimate just how petty these men are

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 894,560 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: halloween is a full family affair

view all comments

user8: JIMMY AND SASSY I CAN'T

user9: yall looking at the croissant and the lobster i'm focusing on AMY AND NICK?

user10: has max even seen this film?

maxverstappen1: nope i just like doing the costumes y/n wants to do

user11: i wish i had enough friends to have like ten billion halloween parties

oscarpiastri: i didn't know what to expect but i did not think i was going to see alex trying to drown george at the apple bobbing station

yourusername: i let them work out their own mess as long as they don't accidentally flood our living room again

oscarpiastri: AGAIN?

maxverstappen1: f1 drivers are just competitive about apple bobbing as they are about driving

alexalbon: in my defence there is a sick trophy for the champ i simply cannot let anyone else win it

user12: they got a trophy made? and girlies are serious about this?

yourusername: custom trophies for apple bobbing, pumpkin carving and best costume

alexalbon: three time apple bobbing champ right here

charles_leclerc: i'm coming for best costume this year

danielricciardo: pumpkin carving was an easy dub last year

maxverstappen1: but no one has out done us for costumes thus far

yourusername: and that's not bias, there is a democratic voting process x

user13: i need to be in this friendship group right now

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, maxverstappen1 and 723,409 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: it's the most wonderful time of the year ! thanks to everyone who came out and making the spooky season special. p.s. shout out to max who found this wig while going through our costume box and insisted on not taking it off the whole set up.

view all comments

user16: NOOOOO WHY IS HALLOWEEN OVER ALREADY

user17: rip to all of us who were hoping for a sexy y/n x max costume

user18: they heard we wanted sexy and gave us ratatouille i hate their asses

oscarpiastri: okay so lando wasn't lying when he said you guys go insane for halloween

yourusername: i fear not. i hope you enjoyed your dip in the pool, we found you in a guest room in my bath robe at 3am

oscarpiastri: oops.

maxverstappen1: you fared better than others on their rookie halloween appearance, just ask lando and charles

landonorris: you told me there was no alcohol in the jelly so it's not my fault i ate the whole bowl and threw up in your shower

yourusername: wow way to blame the victims there lando, you literally blocked the drain

landonorris: MAX SAID THERE WAS NO ALCOHOL

yourusername: it was labelled with the ingredients. you just can't read

landonorris: no comment

yourusername: and charles got so drunk that he decided he would sleep on the couch but got 'lonely' and insisted on cuddling with us

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!! YOU SAID YOU'D KEEP THAT A SECRET

maxverstappen1: don't worry we thought it was cute

carlossainz55: wait is that why you came as a "cuddle bug" this year?

charles_leclerc: NO

alexalbon: and that must be why he got best costume RIGGORY

yourusername: no riggory here, you and lily as mavis and jonathon were a close second

user19: i won't rest until i have an invite next year.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 821,309 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: sorting the recycling with your head barely attached is always the worst part of halloween

view all comments

user20: drunk max looks like so much fun

yourusername: i think i might drink my weight in coffee today but i need to see the kitchen floor soon before i lose my mind

user21: ma'am i know you're clinging to life rn but can we know who won what?

alexalbon: ALEX ALBON APPLE BOBBING CHAMP FOUR YEARS IN A ROW

charles_leclerc: i won best costume and it's purely because i'm cute cause NO one there knew about my cuddling escapades last year

landonorris: ugh pretty privilege back at it again

charles_leclerc: jealousy is a disease get well soon

oscarpiastri: my pumpkin ended up winning !! turns out people love a kangaroo in the ghostface mask

maxverstappen1: first rookie to win that title (i am so impressed by the kangaroo)

yourusername: you were actually so good you have to help me with all the decorative ones next year

oscarpiastri: i'm in

user21: but who won the real award - most embarrassing moment?

maxverstappen1: daniel got stuck in the door in his inflatable horse/cowboy costume

danielricciardo: NO esteban dressing as the cheese string man was worse

estebanocon: that's real creativity at least i didn't fall asleep in the bath like carlos

yourusername: not to gang up on carlos but the blanket you took in their is damaged beyond repair and i request a replacement

carlossainz55: fair, but it was me, lando and george in the tub

georgerussell63: fake news @carmenmundt

carmenmundt: i was also at the party babe, it was impressive how you all fit in there

user22: the fact they do all of this and race like two weeks later and the teams just deal with it

maxverstappen1: we've done much worse on race weekends

yourusername: someone didn't have to try and get home after abu dhabi 2021, halloween is nothing compared to that

note: a lil halloween one for you all. i also DO NOT PLAY ABOUT HALLOWEEN. and am currently planning my costume lol. just wanted to get a small one out before all my work comes in tomorrow, much love xx

[mxstellatayte]

Hi! So I lobe what you have been posting and really want one with either max or mick?

One where they don't realises that they are covered in hickey or scratches?

And it gets called out by either the fans or the press/other drivers?

Please do nsfw either a flashback or one afterwards with a bit of revenge towards our dear reader

Thank yoz and keep up the amazing work 🫶🫶

hey there! i absolutely love all the detail you've given me to work with <3 also i straight up had a physical reaction to this because RAAAAAARGH this is. so hot. also this takes place before singapore 2024 :)

taglist: @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy @anat33-blog1

@xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17 @marknolee

@toby33b @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808 @slutmeoutsworld @itsgrlalmghty

join my taglist here!

it was the flash of papaya among a sea of navy blue that snapped max out of the zoned-out daze he'd been in for the past few minutes. lando.

thank christ.

he reaches out his hand, clasping the mclaren driver's own and bringing him in for a brief hug before stepping back. thankfully, there isn't any media around right now, or max might just flip a table. he's getting real sick of putting up a wall of friendliness when all he wanted to do was escape to his driver's room and mentally prepare for the upcoming qualifying session.

they make small talk for a few moments, talking about the track evolution throughout the day, the brutal heat and humidity, the added drs zone, lap times...

"you get up to anything last night, mate?" lando quirks an eyebrow and sips from his black drinks bottle as he asks the question, leaning his hip against a random storage container.

you'd been wandering around the paddock with lily zneimer while max finished up in the post-practice press conference, doing anything you could to escape the absolutely brutal singaporean heat. however, it seemed that the moment max left you alone, any man within a ten kilometer radius immediately decided to flirt with you.

as soon as the press conference was over and max was released from any further duties, he began searching for you throughout the paddock. after fifteen unsuccessful minutes, though, he thankfully ran into someone who might have a vague idea as to where you may be.

"daniel, have you seen-"

"mclaren hospitality with zneimer."

"thanks."

as max approached the painfully orange building, he heard your voice, mood immediately lifting. what he heard, however, pissed him off beyond measure.

"-told you, i have a boyfriend. i'm not interested. now, if you could kindly fuck off, i'm trying to enjoy my lunch."

what the fuck?

when he rounded the corner, he saw who you were talking to, and... really? this guy thought he had a chance with you? if there was anything more about the situation that could piss max off even more, it's the fact that he's leaning in way too close for his- and your- comfort.

"hey, schatje. everything all good over here?" max rests a hand on your shoulder, deliberately placing himself between you and this creep who won't leave you alone.

"yeah, everything's good. how did the press conference go?" you tilt your head back, and max immediately understands, ducking down to kiss you quickly.

it's that moment that the man bothering you chooses to speak up, and he somehow says the one thing that wouldn't help his situation right now, embarrassing as it is already. "could've just said you had a boyfriend. fuckin' bitch." max's hand twitches on your shoulder and you bring your own up to rest on it, holding him in place. instead of any other reaction, max offers him a fake smile before he storms off, leaving the two of you to burst into laughter.

max sits down next to you, steals a bite of your croissant, and leans back in his chair, a cocky smirk on his face as he chews the flaky pastry. "i was eating that, thank you very much."

"i'll buy you another one," max replies nonchalantly as if he didn't just stare daggers into the heart of the man that was flirting with you. "it seems like you need something that tells people you're taken, though."

later that night, max's lips and teeth ghosted across the skin of your neck, breasts, and thighs as you squirmed beneath him, promising that the blues, purples, and yellows that mottled your skin would ensure that no one would even think about flirting with you.

"nah, nothing much," max lies. "just the team debrief, some sim work, checking over numbers with gp, that kind of stuff. what about you?"

"nah, nothing much," lando responds with a shrug, teeth still clamped around the bendy straw. "played some padel games with max but we were roasted by the end of it. fell dead asleep by nine."

"yeah, the heat always beats it out of me here. i'm probably going to sleep for thirteen hours straight after the race on sunday."

"i probably will, too, honestly, but mostly because i can't beat the jet lag here." max nods in agreement, taking a sip out of his own drinks bottle. "a little birdy told me that you got up to more than just racing review, last night, though."

max's eyebrows furrow in confusion, and he swallows the gulp of water he'd taken. "what do you mean?"

"your neck, mate."

max whined as his hips canted up into yours, his hands desperately grabbing at your arms. your tongue laved over your teeth marks, matching blues and purples littering the lower part of max's neck but coming high enough so that they'd be just visible over the high collar of his fireproofs and race suit. "fuck, schatje, feels so good."

"yeah? you like everyone knowing that you're mine?" all max can do is nod pathetically, biting down on his lower lip in order to muffle the sounds he so desperately wants to make. "use your words, max."

"love it, want everyone to know i'm yours. everyone needs to know."

"there you go, baby." your hips resume their previous pattern, and you groan openly at the delicious slide of max's cock inside of you, filling you up so perfectly. he cries out when you shift your lips lower, taking his left nipple between your teeth gently, and you're able to pry one of his hands from your arm, bringing it to your own breast in hopes that he gets the memo.

he does.

max's hand immediately kneads at your breast, and you groan, your mouth shifting over to his other nipple and repeating the same ministrations, letting your teeth graze it ever so slightly between gentle licks and sucks. "mm, fuck, schatje, gonna cum, 'm gonna cum-"

"so cum for me, max." that's all max needs to hear before his head is thrown back and a beautiful moan rips itself from his throat, and you can't help but press your fingers into the bruises that litter his thick neck. the combination of the high-pitched wails that fill your ears and the feeling of max's cum filling you beyond full makes you fall over the edge, too, and you collapse onto his chest with a satisfied giggle.

max's hand immediately comes up to his neck and he tries not to wince at the flashes of pain that zip through his body, stemming from the lingering bite marks you'd left the night before, his eyes flashing wide. "that bad?"

"that bad," lando confirms with a nod and a smirk. "you might want to go find her and make her cover them up for you before qualifying."

[kbwrites]

How the JJK Men Flirt

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso

⚝ content: slightly suggestive for gojo, choso is a cutie pie, Nanami will always be husband material

Satoru Gojo

Thinks he is a smooth operator

In reality, has zero rizz. Creepy rizz.

“Damn Ma, you shit with that ass?” 😩

Makes up for it with his looks and the fact that he’s loaded (wallet and pants).

“When are you gonna let me take you out on a date?” He leans against the wall looking down at you through his blindfold.

“Go away Satoru.” You slip past his arms, leaving the white-haired sorcerer speechless.

You lounge on the couch of your apartment when you hear a knock on the door. Upon opening it you see roses, snacks, and a Chanel bag on the doorstep. Attached to the flowers is a card.

‘Get ready for the BEST NIGHT EVER be there @ 7<3’

Guess you have no choice now?

Once you get past his strong personality he’s actually really sweet.

His laid-back demeanor is really just a front, Satoru is a nervous wreck when it comes to talking to women. Especially You.

Is so worried about impressing you, he buys the most expensive thing on the menu. The food ends up being way too fancy for your tastes so you guys end up at a fast food place.

Orders everything off the menu there too.

Ends up getting so sick from eating too much you have to take him home to take care of him.

That was his plan all along.

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Kento Nanami

You can’t really tell he’s flirting??

It starts as little things he does for you.

Complaining about working late? A cup of coffee is on your desk when you get to work.

No time to grab lunch? Kento coincidentally has an extra bento.

He always plays it off though:

“I just happened to make too much food.”

“We can’t afford for you to get sick, there’s too much work to get done.”

But the truth is, he hopes you complain about something so he can swoop in and fix it. On your day off, the first one in months you decide to visit a bakery you’ve seen all over Instagram. You see a tall man in front of you… he kind of looks like-

“Kento?”

“Oh. Hello.” He turns around, recognizing your voice immediately. He looks different without a suit. “I’ve never seen you here before. Might this be your first time?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to give it a shot!” You chuckle nervously.

The line moves, it’s now Kento’s turn to order.

“I’ll have the sourdough loaf, half dozen croissants and..” He turns to you “Whatever this young lady wants.”

You end up ordering a slice of chocolate cake and a few other treats. Profusely thanking your coworker for paying, ever the gentleman.

“Thanks again, please allow me to pay you back-”

“Don’t even think about it.” He says firmly, a moment passes. “Are you heading out now? Maybe we can eat some of these together—”

“YES.”

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Choso Kamo

Actually adorable.

Follows you around like a love-sick puppy.

You need him to jump? How high?

He notices EVERYTHING about you.

“You changed your hair today. I like it.”

“I’ve never seen you in that sweater before, its pretty.” All said with an intense blush on his face.

He doesn’t really understand why you have such an effect on him, at first he thinks you cursed him or something.

But one day he’s out with Yuji and brings it up.

“Whenever I’m with (Y/N) I don’t want to leave her side. It's like I’m drawn to her.”

His younger brother just laughs.

“Sounds like you’re in love Choso.”

Love?

Once he realizes it he just flat-out confesses. Pulls you away to a secluded spot on the school grounds. There's a bouquet of roses, a teddy bear and chocolate by the base of the tree.

Takes your hands in his and looks at you with a scared but hopeful expression.

“(Y/N).. Would you please be my girlfriend?”

And your heart swoons.

[nohoney]

“What’s my favorite bread?” You ask your boyfriend during early morning cuddles. It’s warm inside the blanket and Bakugou’s hand is idly petting your hair.

“Croissants. Specifically almond and only from that bakery that’s 20 minutes from the house.” Bakugou answers without a beat of hesitation. “That and brioche. French bread only when you wanna have that gross balsamic dip.”

“How do I like my tea?” You fire off another question, waiting for him to see if he’ll get it right.

“Depends on the tea. Green tea, you’ll only do lemon and honey. Early grey and black tea, a little bit of vanilla creamer and some sugar. Oolong tea, you’ll have it plain.” Once again Bakugou answers your question without fumbling over any of his words.

It makes your heart fond over him but you still want to ask more questions. “What’s my favorite kind of chair?”

“Rocking. Baby, what’s with all the questions?” Bakugou asks gruffly but with no particular annoyance in his voice either. His hand still pets over your head and his eyes look up to the ceiling. Sunshine pours through the window and he sees particles of dust float in the air. “Feels like you’re testing me or somethin’ about if I know you.”

You shrug your shoulders and answer him, “Just wanna see if you pay attention to the things I like. Y’know the last guy I was with, I was with him for more than six months and he didn’t remember when my birthday was even though his and mine were literally a week apart. And then one time he got me flowers and he got me the ones that literally break me out in a rash even though I said a million times what to never get me.”

Bakugou’s hand stops petting your head and he starts to sit up in bed. You follow his movement, sitting back a little and finding the expression on your boyfriend’s face amusing. “What exactly did this loser know about you then? Since he was forgetting all the important things.”

“He knew my go to order for McDonald’s.” You answer as you pull your knees up to your chest and pull the blanket more towards you to cover yourself. “Medium fries and ten pieces nuggets.”

“That’s wrong because it’s actually large fries and twenty piece nuggets.” Bakugou corrects you and you laugh a little knowing that he got you. “And everyone likes nuggets and fries from McDonald’s, that’s hardly anything intimate.”

It makes you laugh that he calls you out but for Bakugou, he frowns a little that you had wasted your time with a guy that didn’t bother to know you at all. He leans back against the headboard and asks you, “What about me? How do I take my coffee?”

“At the agency, you’ll just have plain black coffee. When you go to coffee shops though, you’ll have a dirty chai with soy milk.” You answer him, remembering the first time you and him had coffee together.

He nods his head and asks, “What’s my least favorite vegetable?”

“Brussels sprouts. They’re basically mini cabbages and you hate cabbage too.” The answer comes out easily and as fast as he answered you too.

“Books? What do I like?” He asks, thinking this one might trip you up.

“Sci-fi books, but I know that you’re a sucker for classics literature. I see the Jane Austen books on your shelf.” You tell him.

Bakugou nods his head, equally impressed with your knowledge about him. Then he shoots back, “What’s my McDonald’s order?”

“Spicy deluxe McCrispy with two orders of medium fries. Bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit with three hash browns when you’re hungover.”

He smiles at you, reaching his hand out to ruffle your hair and chuckling when you smack his hand away. “I could take all this info and leak it, you know? Pro Hero Dynamight’s McDonald’s order: this is what he eats!” You laugh at your stupid joke, “Imagine the brand deal that comes your way.”

“First of all, that’s only for you to know.” Bakugou tuts and starts to leave the bed, reaching down onto the floor for his underwear he flung off his body when the two of you got frisky last night, “Second, the last guy you were with was a dipshit for not learning anything about you.”

“Yeah well, I was an even bigger idiot for staying with him for more than half a year.” You sigh as you also move to leave the bed as well. Bakugou’s shirt is found right on your side of the bed so you end up wearing it instead of finding your own sleeping top you intended to sleep in the night before.

Bakugou snorts and you round your way up over to him, giving him a big smile and bumping your hip against him, “Good thing I traded up.”

He leans down to kiss you, smiling into the kiss and not even bothering to hide how you stroked his ego just a little bit.

“My favorite breakfast?” You ask him,

“Aside from my dick?” Bakugou pretends to be hurt when you punch his arm before giving the correct answer, “Overnight oats and waffles.”

[draconic-desire]

A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV]

The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship

It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.

For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.

Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.

You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.

You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.

One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.

One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.

“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.

You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”

Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”

On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.

During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.

Or so you thought.

~*~

The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.

You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.

“And how do you plead?”

The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.

Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.

This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.

Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.

Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.

You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.

If only you knew the true extent of his desires.

~*~

Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.

“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.

Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”

Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”

Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”

That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.

The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.

But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.

Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.

Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.

Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.

“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”

When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.

Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?

~*~

Those eyes will be my downfall.

Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.

Archons, help me.

You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”

Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.

That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.

Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”

Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”

“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”

You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.

Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?

“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”

You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.

Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”

A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?

“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”

A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.

Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.

But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.

The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”

You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.

“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.

You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”

Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.

“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”

You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.

Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.

Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”

You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”

“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”

At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.

Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.

You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.

“You are to be my wife.”

You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.

After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”

“Please, call me Neuvillette.”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”

The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”

You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.

Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”

“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.

“My dear, I am the court.”

You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.

Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.

As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.

In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”

Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”

“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”

Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”

Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”

He glanced down at your arm. ���It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”

Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”

The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.

A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.

You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”

He closed the doors.

~*~

Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”

The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.

Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.

You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.

And so, each day was passed much in the same:

1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.

2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.

3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.

4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.

5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.

6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.

7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.

Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.

“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”

Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”

The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”

Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”

Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”

You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.

The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.

But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.

Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”

Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”

At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”

A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”

Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”

Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”

You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.

“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”

Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”

Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”

Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”

Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!

Fontaine was unrecognizable.

The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.

“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.

You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.

“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”

The silence that followed was all you needed to know.

“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.

For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.

Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.

If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”

Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”

Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”

~*~

Neuvillette was many things.

And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.

And yet, you refused to drown.

As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,

The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.

You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.

[miss-floral-thief]

New dental assistant had blue hair

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Steal My Girl

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.

&lt; 2

__________________

Perfect. 

You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans. 

Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches. 

Fashion. 

The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.

At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings. 

The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric. 

“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it. 

So comfy. 

Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.” 

You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean. 

“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out. 

You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm. 

“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast. 

“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall. 

Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France. 

“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit. 

“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”. 

“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.

“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out. 

You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand. 

The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls. 

“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.” 

You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him. 

Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.

But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”  

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice. 

Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for. 

“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights. 

“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back. 

“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck. 

“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table. 

“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice. 

“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.

“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.

“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.” 

____________________

“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy. 

“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of. 

“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head. 

“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game. 

One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest. 

“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho. 

You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along. 

You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well. 

The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting! 

Focus on the game! 

You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo. 

You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand. 

“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks. 

Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom. 

Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part three

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” you answer suspiciously. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” You would. “I would.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan.” 

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

“Stop staring at my ass.” 

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

“Haechan!”

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

“Keep your voice down.”

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

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

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

“Think, Haechan.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“I just think—”

“Haechan?”

He sighs in defeat. “Yes?”

“Change the topic or leave my apartment.”

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

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

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

He pouts at you. “Is that a no?”

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

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

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

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

“Haechan–”

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

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

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

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

“Into what? Bondage?”

He gives you a look. “No.”

“Cowboys?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Is this you being nice?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me taste you.” 

“What?” you mumble, surprised. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, Haechan.”

“Hi.”

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

“Came to help clean up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You really will have your hands full with him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” you hiss, and he snickers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I knew that was risky.” you mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oop–”

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

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

“What’s up?” Chenle asks.

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

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

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

“...Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark does!” you hiss. “I do, too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, hi.”

“Hi,” he replies with a secretive smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Girl.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Much.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night!” Chaewon yells.

“Good luck!” Yunjin says encouragingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not part of the plan. 

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

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

This absolutely was not in the plan.

“Um, I can’t hang out.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… doing things… already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s funny?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep,” he replies casually.

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

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

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

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

“You insisted on seeing me!”

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

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

“But?”

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

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

“Wh– huh?” you stammer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re insufferable,” you groan.

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

“Do not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You get all slick around me, remember?”

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

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

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

“What are you thinking about, then?”

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

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

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

You sigh quietly. “Haechan.”

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

“Don’t call me that.”

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

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

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

“I like this skirt!” you protest immediately. 

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

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

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

“Haechan—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan,” you scold pathetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?” he calls softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan?”

“Baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me you like it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You gonna do it again?”

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Listen, they canceled,” you lie.

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

“Um… after?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two had sex, didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, what am I gonna do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

haechan [16:44] miss you already, baby

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

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

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

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

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

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[whatifyoulivelikethat]

a really great (love?) story, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: Hot summer. South of France. On vacation with your younger brother's friends. Uh. Well, might as well make the most of it, despite Kim Taehyung making his weird comments every now and then. That damn French waiter put ideas in his head.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; Taehyung is obv trying to rizz up reader and reader is having none of it (but secretly likes it, keke); smut (fem reader, fingering, m-receiving oral); romantic and hella fluff; non-idol!AU; friends-to-lovers

I bought Tae's photobook and this is the result, what can I say, he's really pretty

--

“We’d make a really great love story.”

You grimaced and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so.”

He frowned. His tan skin sparkled in the sun while you stayed curled up under the shade of a white beach umbrella, extra bundled in a wide straw hat and a flowy white linen cover up over a black and red sporty bikini. Even in this heat, you kept a bright yellow beach towel over your legs, not taking any chances with the blaring fireball in the sky.

Kim Taehyung asked you a question.

“Would you date me?”

You answered honestly.

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“You're too good-looking and that'll only bring trouble.”

His crochet shirt was gone, leaving him in hip-hugging dark teal baggy shorts with white stripes down the sides. His dark brown hair was damp from the ocean, tangled over his forehead. When he smiled at your reply, he showed all his teeth in a boxy grin. Your indifferent expression didn’t change. You held onto your book. You continued to show your displeasure as he ran off, long legs and rippling back muscles, knowing full well you would soon be bothered again. Sigh. You turned the next page of your book, listening to the sounds of a rambunctious volleyball game, and wondered again why you had accepted your younger brother’s request.

Damn kid fractured his ankle right before his vacation. Non-refundable plane ticket to Europe. South of France, to be exact. Hot as fuck this time of year. He didn’t want to go because it would be a pain for his friends and he wouldn’t be able to have fun, he said. That and you knew he would rather your parents dote on him all day in prime air conditioning rather than sweat it out with fear-of-missing-out. You told him you had plenty of male friends that would be interested, but your brother insisted you needed to get that stick out of your ass and have a vacation.

So, here you were.

On vacation with your younger brother’s friends. On a beach, reading a book, and, oh, look, here comes Kim Taehyung with a bowl of frozen grapes, yelling your name.

Being annoyed.

The other guys were polite. They always asked if you wanted to join in any of the activities. Some days you stayed back at the rented beach property and puttered around, reading, resting, staring at the view. To be fair, you did try some of activities, such as spending all day on the golf course being really terrible at golf. When your head turned away, some of the boys would move your ball closer to the hole so you could maintain some dignity. Nice kids. You even accompanied them to a night beach club – and saw some things that you will never speak of, yikes – and danced with a couple European guys. At some places, you translated for them when you could. Thankfully, a lot of people in the touristy areas spoke some English. Studying English literature at university hadn’t been useless after all. Although, watching a bunch of Korean guys try to hand-gesture their way in conversations was pretty damn funny. In short, so far it was a surprisingly fun and nice vacation.

Until you went with Taehyung to a fancy café wanted to visit, you being his just-in-case English translator, and the waiter mistook you two as a couple.

That was awkward.

“Oh, no, sorry. Just friends.”

It was probably Taehyung feeding you his chocolate croissant. At first, you were going to refuse, but the pastries had been pretty expensive, and you had wanted to try a bite so he had held it out and let you chomp. Then things got weird once he lifted his hand with a laugh and wiped away from chocolate from the edge of your lip, licking it off his thumb.

You did get a free lemon macaron for being a cute couple once you immediately clarified that you weren’t.

The waiter had winked. Taehyung had just smiled because he didn’t understand.

Awesome.

Once you explained, the relentless teasing began. Well, maybe teasing was the wrong word. Taehyung would just say weird shit with a grin and those sparkly brown eyes of his. Because the other guys were not interested in cute pastries or pretty photo ops spots as seen on TikTok, Taehyung finally had a chance to see these places, using you as an excuse to drag you around at dawn or dusk when the main activities weren’t happening. You had probably taken about five hundred photos of Taehyung by now.

He was very photogenic, at least.

“I think you would look good in these,” he would say during one of the many shopping trips, holding up a pair of chocolate brown, slim sunglasses.

“I’m not as a dress-up doll,” you would grumble as you removed your current cat-eye-shaped dark lenses so he could delicately place the new ones on your nose and survey his handiwork. He would tilt your head this way and that and nod to himself solidly.

“I’m going to buy them, so you have to wear them.”

Thus, you now ticked your new sunglasses down and raised your eyebrow at him as he handed you the bowl of frozen grapes. You weren’t sure what he was playing at, but then he ran off to the guys playing volleyball and act like he hadn’t done anything strange. Hah. You would catch him looking back at you while you were sucking on said grapes and roll your eyes. Was that a smirk or a residual smile from the game?

“A hot summer romance sounds fun, right?”

“Go off, then,” you replied dryly, turning the page of your book.

It was nighttime now. The guys were getting ready to go bar-hopping. You heard some hushed whispers of coming back to jump into the sea at night while drunk. Idiots. You would possibly have to play lifeguard if they followed through on being idiots. Sigh. You elected to stay behind this time, to keep the lights on and all that. You had a few packs of ramyeon in your suitcase for such drunken nights. Nothing like spicy Buldak to finish off a spicy night.

Taehyung poked your shoulder. You knew it was him because of his low whisper and his inability to stop giggling at saying ridiculous shit. You waved a hand.

“Come with us.”

“I don’t need to see you boys twerking on table again. No thanks.”

You heard him suck on his teeth, disappointed. “Join in then.”

“That is a little too weird to be doing around my lil bro’s friends, even for me.”

You glanced at him. Despite his dark, strong features, Taehyung still held that boyish charm. Or maybe it was because you couldn’t see past him being your younger brother’s friend, so he always seemed like a kid to you. He was very popular among the locals. Every time you all stepped out, people would be flocking to speak to him even though Taehyung didn’t know any French (or English, for that matter). Didn’t seem to bother anyone though.

It must be his unquestionably handsome, expressive face.

Hm.

You looked up from your book about science, sex, and murder, to encounter Kim Taehyung’s pouty expression. He was wearing a linen white and sky-blue two-piece set. Short sleeve button up and shorts, complete with floppy brown sandals. He perked up at your acknowledgement. In contrast to his summer heartthrob vibe, you wore a low-waisted long black maxi skirt, a tight black tank, and a draping dark brown lace cardigan. The cardigan color matched his eyes and the slim sunglasses perched on your head that you soon wouldn’t need anymore. The sun was slipping down to bed.

One of the guys called out to you. “Noona, do you want anything while we’re out?”

“We can pick up a man for ya!” Another chimed in loudly with a snort.

Taehyung’s expression darkened.

“Just make sure to do a head count,” you shot back. “Everyone better stay safe or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Ooookay!”

You caught Taehyung’s look. Didn’t say anything about it. He sighed and headed off to the kitchen with purpose as the other men began to pile out of the room. You figured he was pre-gaming or getting some water. You went back to the pages, only to start as you saw a glass and a chilled bottle of white wine slide in front of you.

Dark eyes looked down at you.

You gazed at him over the top of your book.

Reached up and untangled the sunglasses Kim Taehyung had gifted you. You placed them on the counter, next to the wine glass. He turned and left. The guys crowded by the door, gathering their things and laughing. One of them came back and handed you their gold watch – “I don’t want to break it by accident” “You mean, you don’t want to accidentally give it away because you get too happy when drunk?” – giggling with a silly grin and thanking you quickly before running out the door.

Before the door closed, you noticed Taehyung shooting you an enigmatic expression.

You ticked your head and looked back without much expression.

The wine was pretty good, but you didn’t have more than two glasses.

You remembered to put the watch on the appropriate nightstand before heading out to the back porch and reading as the sun went down. It was nice to read by the sunset waves in relative calm. You must have fallen asleep somehow, breathing in the sea and sounds of summer, only to be woken up by a gentle hand on your shoulder, calling your name from far away.

Hazy and deep.

“Hm?”

You shook your head and sat up, seeing Kim Taehyung looking back at you.

“Oh? What are you doing back so soon?” you yawned behind your hand, tucking your bookmark between the pages. “Or is it later than I thought?”

He shook his head of dark waves. He smelled a little like alcohol, but not too bad. “They’re still out. I told them my tummy didn’t feel too good.”

“Ah.” You chuckled. “Too much cheese this afternoon?”

There was a lantern on the back porch, along with a few lounge chairs and low lights that snapped away any pesky bugs. An orange glow dipped over you both. Taehyung had this look in his eyes that you had seen before, although not from him specifically. You were pretty sure every guy on this vacation had considered the same thing, although you had given them none of them a reason to fuck around and find out.

He gave you his puppy-like smile.

You gave him your usual cat-like expression that didn’t mean anything at all.

“You should go lie down,” you recommended.

“You’re my total opposite, I think,” Taehyung responded, which had nothing to do with anything. You didn’t respond to that, but you didn’t tell him he was wrong either. “I wonder what you’re like with your friends.”

You thought about the last time you were in a karaoke session with your few female friends. It had ended with one friend ragdolled on a stretcher and another girl dead asleep in your bathroom until noon of the next day. Stretcher girl was fine after some fluids and a nice, cute, hot male nurse making sure she was okay.

You had hooked up with him as a thanks. For yourself. And him, sorta.

“Girls are different than boys,” and you left it at that.

He raised his hand, spreading his fingers out.

You stared at it.

Taehyung reached over with his other hand and took yours, lifting it up and placing your palm to his.

You blinked slowly.

He was warm, as was the night air. Your hand was smaller, of course, but he wouldn’t be able to engulf it that easily. His palm was rough and worn from summer. From sun, from spiking a volleyball, from swimming in the salty sea. Yours was still soft from turning pages and sipping wine.

“I always thought you would want a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys pink, parties, and flowers,” you commented, not yet removing your hand.

You did not go around perusing thoughts of your younger brother’s friends’ love lives, because that would be fucking weird. But it was a thought. Especially when you witnessed them get into or fall out of relationships. High school had been… yup. You had covered for lil bro and the boys a few too many times; you were a much better liar. With your parents usually gone for work, you were usually the one in charge, which meant you often played babysitter to way too many idiots. For some reason, over the years, they liked to ask for your opinion of their prospective girlfriends. You suspected it was because this course of action was safer than immediately introducing them to their mothers who were much scarier when it came to their sons. After all the question was always, what would my mom think of this person? You had tried to distance yourself as they all became older, but, alas.

Somehow you always got dragged back in to looking after them.

“There has to be a flower you like,” Taehyung insisted. “There are so many flowers in the world.”

You thought about it for a moment. “I like snowdrops.”

His face brightened. “Ah, yeah, that suits you. I see it.”

Your hands were still touching, palm-to-palm.

You tilted your head.

Taehyung didn’t move his hand away.

“I always thought you were a very pretty, elegant girl who enjoys black, quiet time, and snowdrops,” he said slowly, dreamily, his words turned into honey by his smooth, low voice.

You pointed out the obvious. “I only just told you I like snowdrops.” You scoffed lightheartedly. “And I enjoy quiet time because you all are so damn noisy.”

The sparkle in Taehyung’s eyes dulled a bit.

“Have you ever thought about it?”

You recalled him saying he told the others his stomach hurt. He must have picked up a thing or two from you over the years.

“About candlelit dinners? About going on night walks, buying convenience store snacks, and eating it at the kids’ playground when no one is around?” Taehyung asked one question after another. “About standing in the rain? Sharing an umbrella? Holding hands? About that leather jacket I have, borrowing it when you’re a bit cold, standing beside each other, waiting for the midnight train?”

He interlocked his fingers with yours.

You didn’t react much, other than saying, “You do look like the male lead in a romance drama, Kim Taehyung.”

The obvious was being avoided.

After a long moment, Taehyung let go of your hand, stood up, and went to his room.

You tried to put it out of your mind.

The night was warm enough that you napped a little more. Woke up a few hours later to make ramyeon and hydrate the group, earning many drunken handshakes of enthusiastic thanks. You stayed up a bit with them, learning of the night’s exploits despite the incoherent mess of their speech, and then sent them off to bed, one by one. Cleaned up, stared at the moon for a long time, and then headed to your room. Unlike the others, you weren’t sharing a room. It was small and cozy, as expected. You placed your book by your nightstand and sat in the dark.

You weren’t quite sleepy yet, but you got ready for bed anyway.

A few years ago, you and Taehyung had a… moment.

A very fleeting moment.

It had happened at bar. You had been turning the corner in the hallway to the bathrooms, and a hand grabbed your arm, yanking hard. Your body twisted, instantly on alert, but one look at the other person, and the shock had stopped you from pulling away, thereby allowing a drunken Kim Taehyung kiss you.

The contact had been in less than a second.

He had smelled like warm leather and musky embers.

Taehyung had immediately pulled away, sputtering your name, surprised that you both found yourselves at the same bar, the inopportune fate causing this fateful accident.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else – how… when…?”

You had shaken your head quickly, turning, your passing whisper by his ear.

“Forget about it.”

You entered the bathroom as a girl rounded the corner and fell into Taehyung’s arms.

At that time, you had chalked it up to weird timing. A random encounter. You had been hooking up with a different guy in Daegu. Taehyung was from there, so it wasn’t totally improbable that you could cross paths. Bold move by him. Wasn’t unheard of, though. Guys could be like that. Girls liked that stuff. When you left the bathroom, the couple was gone, which was a relief. You had gone about your night and it ended as expected. That guy had a great ass. It had ended on good terms, but ended all the same.

You wondered what made him bring it up again.

After all, he was the type of man he was, always surrounded by people vying for his attention.

He knew the type of woman you were.

Well, you had started getting a reputation among Daegu men.

After a moment of reminiscing, you stood up to pull back the curtain at your window. Your room was on the lower floor, next to the back porch, and, like a dream, there he was, Kim Taehyung against the rail, leaning over it to look towards the ocean.

You blinked slowly.

He wasn’t exactly looking inside the house, but he must have noticed your movement, because his head turned, and now you were entangled in eye contact broken by a thin pane of glass.

The shadows danced across his face. The lantern light was off but the lower lights along the ground path were still on. For safety, likely. He was only wearing a pair of white, tie-front linen pants. You wondered if Taehyung had been waiting for you or if he was simply admiring the summer night. Hard to tell. A soft breeze ruffled through his dark hair. You stood in your room, one hand on the floral curtain, the other on the button placket of your black silk pajamas. Short sleeved and shorts, breezy and slinky, perfect for the summer weather.

Moonlight shimmered off his bare chest.

After a moment, Taehyung backed away from the rail. You watched him step down the porch and walk over to stand under your window.

He tapped the glass.

You opened it.

Those dark eyes stared at you, blocking the light with his frame.

The window opened inward, a vintage latch at the center to split the two panes. You leaned out a bit, bending slightly, and now you and him were at eye level, surrounded by the salted scent of the sea instead of the dark hallway of a bar next to the bathrooms.

“You stomach didn’t actually hurt, did it?” you asked.

Taehyung smiled, but didn’t reply.

Instead, he too leaned forward a bit, inhaling softly. You had a tendency to spray your perfume in your hair. It lasted longer that way. He could probably smell it off your hair right now.

“I thought I would be fine,” he said, looking into your eyes.

You didn’t say anything.

“I thought I could forget about it,” he breathed in that deep honey voice of his.

Your eyes shifted past his, then back.

You placed your elbows on the windowsill and leaned out. You inside. Him outside. Taehyung seemed like he was searching for something in your expression. You didn’t give him anything. You wondered what he would do. The alcohol must have worn off by now. You weren’t feeling the glasses of excellent white wine anymore, at least. You remembered how the French women at the night beach club had held his arms and leaned against him, complimenting his smile and cooing over his perfect skin and beautiful dark hair. He hadn’t stopped them.

But, also, Taehyung was closing the distance right now, his warm cologne entering your private space.

“Why couldn’t you forget?” you asked, his lips centimeters from yours, viewing him through lashes.

His head was already tilted. His eyes flickered up, having lowered by instinct.

“Couldn’t help but think that you would make a wonderful female lead in a romance novel.”

You smiled, noting the detail between your words and his.

His lips pressed against yours.

You held it for a moment. Soft, deep, breathing in the scent of each other. You drew apart, hearing him suck in a breath hastily. Half-smiled, amused by his nervousness. He raised his head. You shared a questioning look. The night ocean sang, soft waves lapping at the shore.

You tilted your head towards the inside of your room.

Taehyung hesitated for a second, but only for a second.

Less than a minute later, he slipped into your room. Opened and closed the door as quietly as the old wood would allow. You paused, wondering if he had a whole script memorized, being the romantic and all, but Taehyung lifted his eyes and it seemed like he forgot everything. It seemed you had to be the one to make a move. You still stood by the open window, in your black silk pajamas. Night bathed in moonlight.

Well, you did have a reputation among Daegu men. One more couldn’t hurt.

You lifted your hand, palm towards Taehyung.

He closed the distance, almost soundless, and lifted his hand too. Palm to palm. You looked down at your touching hands, then back up at him. He was quite tall, but he wasn’t imposing his presence over you.

“You think we would make a really great love story?”

The moon caught a hint of his blush.

“You don’t think so?” he replied, unsure in the wake of you teasing back for once.

You were honest with him.

“I really don’t know.”

You angled your hand slightly so your fingers and his no longer overlapped.

“You have to be sure that you’re okay with that.”

You let your eyes linger on his chest on purpose before raising your head to make eye contact. The memory of his lips lingered. It was just like how you remembered it, even from that rushed, barely a second, frozen-in-time moment.

His kiss, however brief, had a lasting, forever type of feeling.

“You asked me if I had ever thought about it.”

His eyes widened a little bit as you mentioned the previous conversation. Like a movie, the instances played back in your head. The accidental kiss. The awkward silences when you both found yourselves alone in the smallest of moments before brushing past each other. You noticed Taehyung dating on and off, yet not committing to anyone. The times when he would notice you with other guys and quickly look away, as if he witnessed something dirty or wrong. His behavior wasn’t intrusive. He didn’t push you towards anyone, but he didn’t pull you away either.

“Not really,” you admitted. “Mostly because I didn’t think you would want the challenge.”

Taehyung stared into your eyes, slipping his fingers in between yours, holding your hand tightly.

“I think I needed to grow up a little.”

You raised your eyebrows. Looked him up and down. “Seems like you grew a lot.”

He laughed, then toned it down despite the house currently snores abode. You knew what he meant and he knew the double meaning you implied. You lifted your other hand. His chuckling died down, watching. He tensed as the pads of your fingers made contact with his forearm, walking up his muscle.

“You had a plan, hm?”

Your whisper melted into the moonlight.

“I was…” His breath stilled when you stopped. You glanced up, your fingertips poised at the bend of his elbow. “I was… going to ask you what kind of lover you are.”

You ticked your head, not yet moving your hand. “What about you?”

Taehyung’s dark eyes were barely visible under his hair fallen over his forehead.

“Yours.”

You paused.

His shoulder lifted in the lightest of shrugs.

“I heard you’re really good. Sometimes rough.”

Word got around then.

“I’m really good. Sometimes soft. So, we will balance out,” he said with a smile.

You removed your hand from his skin.

Your whisper so low it was nearly a growl.

“Is that what you think?”

The fingers of your raised hand spread. Curved. Danced over his neck. Taehyung started slightly at the contact of your middle finger sliding over his throat, your eyes locked with his, and you traced up, into the pocket of his jaw, closing your fingers around the back of his head and pulling his face down to yours.

And you kissed him.

Slow. Soft and intense at the same time, drawing in your breath. For a moment, Taehyung was suspended in surprise before leaning in, gasping against your lips, tangled in your tongue before he knew it. His own hand came up to cup your cheek, more to stabilize himself than for the passion, but then it all meshed together, kiss after kiss. One hand tangled in his hair and the other resting in the dip of his warm chest. He had one hand on your face and the other skimming along your elbow.

Surrounded by salt air and shadows.

You broke the kiss, pulling back with a sigh.

You half-expected him to retreat. Taehyung was one to flirt and not back it up. You were one to not flirt; instead, the first to move. He must have known that. For once, you played the role of the gentlemen this time, waiting for his choice. Toying with a half-smile on your lips, the erratic rise and fall of his built chest under your fingertips. Racing heart. Lingering taste. His dark eyes surveyed you under the messiness of his beach-loved hair.

In silence, you stared into his eyes, daring him to sin.

There must have been something in the French night air.

Taehyung tilted his head, feathering air-light kisses over your jaw. Your neck. You tilted your head back, to the side, letting out a sensual exhale at the tingling of your pulse. Your fingers touched the button placket of your pajamas, leisurely unbuttoning one by one. You felt his fingers ghost over one shoulder, pushing it down, exposing skin to air.

He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest.

You leaned your head back against his collarbone, silk draping down your arms.

Felt him whisper your name into your ear, low and tainted with lust.

His hands covered your chest, fingers spread, large palms hovering, statuesque in pose. Demure for half a second. Moonlight streaming over your torso. You arched your back, and Taehyung sucked in a breath, feeling your naked breasts fill his hands. His lips brushed against your neck, shuddering, and you rubbed your hard nipples into his rough palms, grazing your ass over his crotch.

“Fuck…”

You turned your head, viewing him from your periphery, melting into his touch without a word.

Your hands migrated to his sides, sliding down, adorning his hips with your curved fingers.

Taehyung moaned softly, his eyes closing. Hands all over your chest, igniting desire. Hungry but deliberate, no sense in rushing, moving to the sound of the sea. His erection pressed into the dip of your ass, linen and silk separating the skin to skin but not enough to hide the hardness to softness. Exhale. His arms crossed over your chest, soft lips on the base of your neck, and you felt him ghost his fingers down, down, past your bellybutton, dancing over the waistband of your shorts.

With one swift movement, you turned your wrist and covered the back of his hand with yours, dragging him in between the layers.

He gasped as he felt your slick wetness coat his fingertips.

Your other hand slid into his pants, grabbing his ass, pinning Taehyung to you while you pressed his fingers into the outer lips, rocking your hips into it, grinding on his growing arousal, grinning when you heard him swear under his breath again.

He shoved a finger into you.

You both moaned at the same time, the sound drowned by the crashing tide outside.

You pressed another in, and he got the hint. Middle and ring finger, his palm pressed to your throbbing clit, and you rode his hand before he moved, blossoming the pleasure all on your own. His moan rumbled in his chest, biting his lip to avoid any obvious noise. The wet sucking sound was conspicuous enough, and you tightened your core, your pussy clenching around his fingers, prompting Taehyung to lean his chin onto your shoulder, his dark hair brushing against your cheekbone, one hand teasing your nipples, the other between your legs, delicious sparks flying through your body knowing he was actively watching.

“The sounds you make… are insane…”

You weren’t aware until he said it. Soft, breathless gasps drifted out of your own lips, inaudible to anyone except for the inescapable closeness of Taehyung pinning you to his tense body. You could feel the shake creep down to your legs, your silk shorts slipping down your thighs, the fullness of each thrust making your lightheaded. And then, you felt Taehyung slightly curve his fingers.

You sucked in a breath, your eyes shutting, seeing stars, pleasure and want increasing tenfold.

“A-Ah, yes… Taehyung…”

His name polluted by sensuality. Foreign but not unwelcome. A sudden arousing surge of lovely wrongness – after all, you should not be fucking one of your younger brother’s closest friends – but you could tell it had an effect on him too. He squeezed your nipple, making you hiss, and then you felt his tongue flat against the side of your neck, sliding up, his breath hot, his impossibly deep voice husky, his command pleading.

“Cum for me.”

You raised yourself to tiptoes, the curve of your ass against his twitching bulge, and sank your nails into his hip as you came, spilling onto his palm in vibrating shivers, delicately moaning to the ceiling. The intense high rushed up your center, through your limbs, all over your nerves, and you let it take over, shuddering, growing limp in Taehyung’s flexed arms.

As expected, he did not drop you.

You stayed in the heady fog of orgasm, slowly waking as if in a lucid dream. Turned your head and found his lips, or perhaps his lips found yours. It was hard to tell. You drew his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it, sensing a growing desperation in the shallowness of his breath.

You pried your fingernails from his hip, rueful. “I got carried away. My bad.”

A hint of a mischievous smirk on Taehyung’s lips. “I never said I didn’t like it.”

You questioned him with half-moon eyes.

“Someone might see.”

The smirk morphed into more of a roguish smile. There he was. “I can say I got scratched up while roughhousing. They’re not gonna think twice about it,” he teased.

“Tch. Tricky, tricky, aren’t you, Kim Taehyung?”

You twisted like a dancer, breaking from his embrace. He let you go, somewhat reluctantly. His right hand was still glistening, covered in your orgasm. He glanced at it, mesmerized, before realizing you were kicking away your shorts and panties, tossing your unbuttoned top onto the bed. His eyes widened when your hand came into contact with his chest. You slid down. In one swift movement, you lowered to a squat, right in front of the massive tent in his pants.

Taehyung had but a second to intake a breath.

You grazed your palm down his stomach, his bellybutton, to the tie of his pants. Tugged on it, unlacing it, and then you hooked your thumbs onto the sides of the waistband and pushed them down.

Part of you was mildly shocked Taehyung was going commando.

The other part of you thought that was pretty on brand for him.

You weren’t too surprised by what you saw. He was well-kept, clean, and not fully hard yet. The latter was mostly a guess from experience. It wasn’t polite to stereotype Daegu men, but, well. If the shoe fit and all that. You raised your eyes, amused at his stunned expression, and then leaned forward to lick along the thickening length.

“Oh, shit…”

He must have expected you to simply put his cock in your mouth or wrap your hand around it. Instead, you pressed your lips to the hot, velvety skin, decorating him with kisses before flickering out your tongue and wrapping it over the head, rubbing your lips against the underside. Back and forth, curling your tongue around the swelling tip, licking off the leaking pre-cum.

He tasted strong. More enjoyable than most.

You looked up as you worked his shaft. Taehyung gasped and his cock twitched as if to affirm his attraction.

“F-Fuck, what…?”

“You should taste my cum while I suck you off,” you murmured against his balls, licking them all over as you spoke.

He wasn’t used to the multiple sensations. You could tell by his heavy pants and the tension rippling all over his torso. How unfortunate, but you would make up for that right now.

“O-Okay… fuck…”

You watched Taehyung slide his fingers into his open lips and his eyes rolled back, groaning deeply as your essence hit his tongue. In one fluid flick of your head, you swallowed his cock, relaxing as your lips pressed to the base, feeling his girth stretch out your throat. You lowered your tongue, bringing him deeper, and perhaps it was a good idea to have Taehyung lick his fingers off. His shocked whine was stifled by his own hand. You paid it no mind, slowly pulling back and diving forward, his scent filling your nose every time you inhaled, catching glimpses of him sliding his fingers in out of his mouth with each ascent.

Somehow Taehyung made the depraved act look almost dreamy.

Your fingertips balanced on the floorboards, lowering your knees to better support yourself. Not using your hands out of pride. You even leaned your head back, both to gain more air and to take him deeper with less resistance. You saw Taehyung pull his fingers out of his mouth, strings of saliva beading on his lower lip, balancing his fingers by his shivering exhales as he watched you, entranced.

You let the pleasure reflect in your eyes.

“How… wow… fuck, your tits and thighs look so good at this angle…”

The strain was prickling through your limbs. You were far too engrossed in your task to care, feeling your pussy dampen from the intoxicating adrenaline, closing your eyes to focus on the pace. Steady, intense, listening to the deepening sound of his groan, his cock throbbing in your throat, signaling he was close, and then his voice ceased, suspended, lost in the warm, encompassing reverie.

His hips tensed, snapping forward, and Taehyung gasped your name.

His hot orgasm gushed onto the back of your tongue, filling your mouth with the viscous, heady flavor, making you as lightheaded as he sounded. Through his jerking length you could feel the flinches ravage his body, and all of a sudden his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you down to the brink of danger.

You swallowed, trying to grasp for a sliver of oxygen.

Taehyung almost doubled over, his erotic cry muffled by his other hand slapping over his mouth, and he half-pulled out of your closed lips, only to slide back in again, slowly, groaning above your head. He was trying to keep quiet and contain his sound within the walls of this room. Everyone else in the house was probably too drunk to string a sentence together, let alone figure out sex was happening under the same roof, but it was best not to take any chances.

His expansive girth was trembling, softening as his sensitivity increased. None of that stopped him from continuing to thrust in post-orgasmic bliss, lengthening his pleasure. You swirled your tongue around him and Taehyung trembled, whispering sweet nothings like smoke, his words melding with the melodic sound of ocean waves.

After a few more thrusts, his grip lessened, backing off.

You drew back, licking your lips, throwing your head back, breathing in a long, greedy gulp of fresh salty air. There was something ethereal about the whole scene. If it wasn’t for the ache in your knees, you might have been deceived into thinking it never happened. His memorable taste was still on your tongue. You swallowed again, and then felt a hand on your elbow.

Wordlessly, you opened your eyes and let Taehyung lift you to your feet.

He stared at you, his hair over his eyes, breathing hard. His chest glistened in the moonlight. The rest of him was shadowed by your naked body.

“I…”

You waited.

“I… I should have asked if you…” He trailed off, grasping your arm tightly.

You half-smiled. “You thought I wouldn’t want to?”

There seemed to be a pink flush on his cheeks. His ears were certainly turning red. “I first wanted to ask you… No, Invite you on a proper date. Not on this vacation but… sometime soon?”

You couldn’t help but tease him. “Why so nervous when we’re naked in front of each other?”

Taehyung spared a glance down and then blushed deeper, clearing his throat. “I don’t know. I’m not usually nervous.” His dark eyes drifted back to your face. “I always thought you were beautiful. But too good for me.”

That almost made you laugh. “Too good? You know my reputation, Taehyung, and ‘good’ does not describe it.”

He shook his head.

Tugged on your arm, pulling you towards him.

“Yin and yang.”

He brought his forehead down, touching yours.

“You need both to have a really great love story.”

You breathed in his rich, warm scent, and leaned in to kiss him again. The sea, the salt air, the heat between you and him, burning, and the next day you were sitting under the beach umbrella again, laying on a teak lounger, book in hand, chocolate brown sunglasses perched on the end of your nose, secretly observing sun-kissed Kim Taehyung diving into the foamy waves as he snuck glances back at you, admiring your watchful form.

You smiled in shade as Taehyung dazzled in the sun.

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