#it was lighting practice and i think it's not bad for the first try

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 33. the premiere

word count: 15k words (sorryyyy….againnnn) warnings: MDNI!!!!!! explicit sexual content. petnames, spanking, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!), softdom! sunghoon, softdom!jake, all the fucking lot. spoiler alert im so sorry…… thank you…… prev | masterlist | next

You’re still adjusting your dress in the mirror when there’s a knock at your door. Three short taps, casual but expectant. You already know who it is. You smooth your hands down the fabric one last time, inhaling deeply before opening the door.

Jake stands there, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, dressed in an all-black suit that fits him almost unfairly well. His hair is styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he’s looking at you, all wide eyes and slow grin, makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck. Wow.” His voice is almost reverent, his gaze dragging over you from head to toe. “You look insane. Like, actually. This should be illegal.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the doorframe just to make things difficult for him. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Jake’s grin sharpens, his dimples showing as he leans in slightly, his voice dropping. “I can think of a few things.”

Your heart stutters for a second, but you keep your expression unimpressed. “Yeah? Too bad we have somewhere to be.”

“Five minutes won’t kill anyone,” he argues, slipping past you with ease, closing the door behind him. He barely gives you time to react before his hands find your waist, pulling you in like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His cologne is distracting, all warmth and spice, and his lips are just close enough to be dangerous.

“You’re trouble,” you murmur, your hands finding his shoulders.

“I could say the same about you.”

And then he kisses you, slow and teasing at first, before he deepens it, his fingers pressing into your back like he’s trying to memorize the feeling of you. He tastes like mint and something sweeter, something distinctly Jake, and it’s so easy—too easy—to melt into him.

But you don’t, not fully. You pull back, breathless, pressing a finger to his chest. “Jake.”

“Mm?” His lips chase yours like he’s not done yet.

“We have to go.”

He exhales dramatically, resting his forehead against yours for a second before finally pulling away. “Fine. But only because I don’t want Niki to yell at me for being late.”

The hotel ballroom where the premiere is being held is overwhelming the second you step inside. Warm lighting, sleek decor, champagne flutes in every direction. The kind of event where everyone is too cool to be fazed by the sheer number of celebrities in one place.

Jake keeps a hand on the small of your back as you walk in, like he’s worried you might disappear in the crowd. He greets a few people, nods at some others, but the second he spots Niki, his entire demeanor shifts.

Niki is standing near the center of the room, flanked by Yeonjun and a handful of other people you don’t immediately recognize. He’s holding a drink and talking animatedly, gesturing wildly like he’s in the middle of the most important story of his life. The second he sees you and Jake, his face lights up.

“There you are!” He waves you over, practically bouncing on his heels. “Finally. Thought you guys were gonna ditch me.”

“You think I’d miss this?” Jake grins, clapping a hand on Niki’s shoulder. “Big night, man.”

Niki gestures to the chaos around him. “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking insane. I saw Taylor Swift like ten minutes ago and almost passed out.”

You blink. “Wait, she’s actually here?”

“Of course she is, dude. It's her movie.” Niki shrugs. “She's probably somewhere being cooler than all of us combined.”

Jake stands beside you, his hand resting lightly on your back as the party swirls around you. The room is a blur of sequins, designer suits, and industry elites, but his attention is locked on you.

Sunoo arrives first, all bright energy and perfectly styled hair, Gigi right beside him in a dress that probably costs more than your rent. Woonhak follows, looking vaguely overwhelmed but excited. “Oh my God, there he is,” Sunoo gasps dramatically. “The man of the hour.”

Jake laughs. “You mean Niki? Pretty sure he’s the man of the hour.”

“No,” Gigi corrects. “He means you.”

“Yeah,” Sunoo adds, pointing between you and Jake. “We’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

Jake gives you a playful glance. “All good things, I hope?”

Jake, ever the charmer, is unfazed. He chats with them easily, slipping into the conversation like he’s always been part of your world. You watch as he makes them laugh, throwing in casual compliments and effortlessly winning them over.

After a few minutes, you catch sight of Jungwon and Jay arriving. “I’m gonna go say hi to them,” you tell Jake, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods, squeezing your fingers briefly. “Don’t take too long.”

You weave through the crowd toward Jungwon and Jay, both looking effortlessly put together. Jungwon spots you first, his face lighting up. When you reach them, your brother pulls you into a quick hug. “We had a tie problem.” His gaze turns to Jay, who is silently laughing.

You glance toward the bar. “I was actually about to grab a drink. You guys want anything?”

Jay shakes his head. “Sunghoon already went to get ours.”

Of course he did.

You nod, excusing yourself before heading toward the bar. As you approach, you spot Sunghoon leaning against the counter, one hand resting casually on the surface while the other holds a drink. His suit fits perfectly, sharp lines and effortless confidence, the deep navy fabric complementing his complexion in a way that makes your thoughts stray into dangerous territory. The open collar of his dress shirt reveals just enough skin to make you swallow harder than you’d like, and the sleek styling of his hair only sharpens the cocky smirk he wears when he notices you approaching.

“What a coincidence,” he muses, tilting his glass slightly in your direction. “You following me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, masking the way your pulse quickens. “You wish.”

He tilts his head, letting his gaze drag over you in that slow, deliberate way that makes your skin heat. “Maybe I do.”

Your throat goes dry, but you refuse to let it show. “Shouldn’t you be taking those drinks back to your friends?”

He smirks, swirling the liquid in his glass lazily. “They can wait. Besides, looks like you could use a distraction.”

You scoff, leaning against the bar beside him, trying not to focus on how close he is. “You think you’re that distracting?”

Sunghoon leans in slightly, his voice dropping to that infuriatingly smooth register that always makes the air between you shift. “I know I am.”

You hate that he’s right. But you hate even more how much you don’t want to walk away.

He studies you for a moment before raising a brow. “So, how’s Jake?”

The question catches you off guard, but you recover quickly. “He’s talking to Sunoo, Giselle, and Woonhak.” You pause, then glance at him knowingly. “You know, since he invited you here and all.”

His smirk deepens, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Yeah. Generous of him, don’t you think?”

You nod, watching him carefully. “I like that you two are getting close again.”

Sunghoon hums, taking a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down. Then, he looks at you with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “Of course you like it. You’re the reason for it.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly. “Or did you already forget what happened on Super Bowl night?”

Your breath catches for half a second, but you school your expression, refusing to give him the reaction he wants. Instead, you shift your gaze across the room, scanning the crowd—and that’s when you see Jake.

He’s leaning against a tall table, still engaged in conversation, but his eyes are locked onto you and Sunghoon. There’s something in the way he’s watching, the curve of his lips somewhere between amused and possessive. It sends a shiver down your spine—not quite jealousy, but not entirely something else, either.

The bartender slides your drink in front of you, breaking the tension. You take the glass, turning back to Sunghoon with a tight-lipped smile. “I should get back.”

His smirk lingers, as if he knows exactly why you’re leaving so quickly. “Sure. Wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting.” You ignore the way your stomach tightens at his words, turning on your heel and walking away before you do something reckless.

You return to Jake, finding him standing with Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Soobin near the edge of the party. The three of them are deep in an animated discussion, and you barely get a word in before Beomgyu clutches Soobin’s shoulder like he’s delivering the most important information of the night.

“Dude, I swear to God, we just went to the bathroom and Tom Holland was in there,” Beomgyu says, eyes wide.

Soobin nods in solemn agreement. “He was washing his hands like a normal person. It was surreal.”

“Was he British?” Heeseung asks, raising an eyebrow.

Beomgyu stares at him. “Bro, of course he was British, what kind of question—”

“I mean, did he sound British in real life?” Heeseung clarifies, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t hear him talk. But he had the British stance,” Soobin supplies, as if that explains everything.

“What the hell is a British stance?” Jake finally asks, chuckling.

Beomgyu waves his hand dismissively. “You wouldn’t get it.”

At this point, the conversation takes a sharp turn as Heeseung squints at Soobin. “Okay, but real question—who’s the best Spider-Man? Because I already know your dumbass answer.”

Soobin gasps. “Tobey Maguire is objectively the best—”

“Oh my God, here we go,” Beomgyu groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re actually delusional if you think Andrew Garfield wasn’t the best,” Heeseung counters.

Jake laughs, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you slightly closer as they keep arguing. He leans in, his voice a warm murmur in your ear, “You wanna get out of here?”

Your breath hitches for half a second, but you play it cool, tilting your head slightly. “You’re feeling bold tonight.”

He smirks. “You have that effect on me.”

Before you can respond, Beomgyu suddenly turns back to you both, looking horrified. “Wait—Jake, don’t tell me you think Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man.”

Jake doesn’t even glance at him. “I think Y/N and I are leaving.”

Soobin gasps. “COWARD.”

You laugh, letting Jake steer you toward the exit, ignoring the continued chaos behind you. His hand is firm on your lower back, fingers pressing lightly as he guides you through the crowd, a silent reminder of his presence. The party hums around you—music pulsing, glasses clinking, voices overlapping in an endless sea of conversation—but it all fades into the background as you step into the crisp night air. The smoking area is nearly empty, just a few scattered guests lingering near the edge, their quiet conversations drowned out by the distant bass from inside. The air is laced with the faint scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne, but all you can focus on is Jake, who wastes no time in pulling you closer by the waist.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and low against your ear. His lips graze the sharp line of your jaw, not quite kissing, just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“I’m fine,” you reply, though your breath hitches slightly when he finally presses a kiss there, just below your ear.

“Yeah?” He pulls back just enough to look at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You don’t seem fine.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted. “You just like messing with me.”

“Maybe.” His hands tighten around your waist, his thumbs pressing into your sides. “Or maybe I just like you.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. “Oh yeah? How much?”

Jake tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mm, a lot.” His lips find your jawline again, kissing along it slowly, savoring every inch. “Like, wanna-be-around-you-all-the-time a lot. Like, think-you’re-the-coolest-person-here a lot.”

You hum softly, enjoying the warmth of Jake’s touch, the way his fingers trace absentminded circles against your waist. But there’s something deeper lingering between you, something you can’t ignore.

“Jake,” you say quietly, tilting your head up to look at him properly. “Can I ask you something? Like, for real?”

He pulls back slightly, his gaze warm and steady. “Of course.”

You hesitate for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before finally speaking. “What… what exactly is this? You and me.”

Jake blinks, as if the question catches him off guard, but then a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know if I have the perfect answer for that,” he admits. “But I know that I really like getting to know you. I like how things feel when I’m with you. And I don’t wanna push you into anything—you’ve got a lot going on, I get that. But I like where we are right now.” His fingers tighten slightly on your waist, grounding, reassuring. “I like this... whatever this is.”

Your heart stumbles slightly at his words, the sincerity behind them. You nod, letting the moment settle, before shifting slightly. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jake grins. “Damn, two in a row? Should I be nervous?”

You roll your eyes but don’t take the bait. Instead, you inhale deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you get mad about Sunghoon? About him being around?”

Jake exhales a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You wanna know the truth?”

“That’d be nice.”

He leans against the railing, still holding onto you like he’s unwilling to let you go. “It’s not the first time this has happened with me and Sunghoon.”

Your brows lift. “Seriously?”

Jake nods. “Yeah. We’ve had this… I don’t know what to call it. This rivalry? Competition? Whatever it is, it’s not new. But it’s never been like this before.”

“Like this how?”

His thumb brushes against your hip, gentle, thoughtful. “It’s never been with someone like you.”

Your breath catches slightly. “What does that mean?”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head. “It means you make it different. You make it feel less like a fight and more like— I don’t know. Like a game we don’t mind playing.” He pauses, tilting his head. “And I think it’s because I respect you. I know you’re gonna do whatever you want in the end, and I trust that. And…” He grins, eyes glinting with something playful. “I like it. I like the chase. I like having to work for you.”

Your heart squeezes at his words, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re really not jealous?”

“Oh, I’m jealous,” he admits, laughing. “But I’m not bitter. Not when it’s you.”

For a second, you can’t think of anything to say. So you don’t. Instead, you reach up, tangling your fingers in the fabric of his jacket and pulling him down into a kiss. Jake reacts instantly, hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there’s barely any space left between you. His lips move against yours with an easy certainty, like he’s trying to tell you everything he just said all over again—without words, just the heat of his touch, the press of his body against yours. You feel the way he deepens the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly at your waist, like he wants to make sure you don’t slip away. And you don’t want to.

You let yourself sink into him, your hands gripping the lapels of his jacket, holding him there like he’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment. The world outside the two of you feels distant, a blur of cigarette smoke and the muffled voices. It’s just Jake, his lips warm and insistent against yours, his breath fanning across your cheek as he tilts his head to kiss you deeper, as if he wants to taste every inch of you.

Then reality nudges at the back of your mind, and you remember where you are.

You break the kiss, just barely, your breath mingling with his. “Jake,” you murmur, voice slightly unsteady. “We’re still in public.”

His lips barely leave your skin as he hums in response, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. “So?”

You huff a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow. “So, people are watching.”

Jake exhales a soft chuckle, completely unfazed. “Good,” he murmurs, dipping his head lower, his lips brushing against your jaw, then lower, trailing down the column of your neck. His voice is a low, amused whisper against your skin. “I like when people watch.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in the fabric of his jacket. There’s something reckless about the way he says it, something bold, unbothered—like he’s perfectly happy letting the whole world see that you’re his.

You’re about to retort, maybe call him insane, maybe tell him to shut up and keep kissing you, but then—your gaze drifts past his shoulder.

And your stomach twists.

Across the smoking area, near the edge where the neon glow fades into shadows, Sunghoon is standing with some girl. He’s not kissing her, but he’s leaning in way too close, his posture relaxed, effortless—like this isn’t even something he has to think about. Like it’s second nature to him.

She’s smiling, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers as she looks up at him, hanging onto whatever he’s saying. And he’s looking at her the way he looks at anyone he’s about to pull into his orbit—sharp, teasing, eyes glinting with something just shy of a smirk. He’s angled slightly toward her, their bodies just close enough that if she took half a step forward, they’d be chest-to-chest. It’s casual, but you know him well enough to recognize the way his body language shifts when he’s interested in someone.

And then he looks up.

His eyes meet yours, and in an instant, everything sharpens. The noise around you fades, the air between you crackling with something unspoken, something tense. His expression doesn’t change—he doesn’t pull away from the girl, doesn’t step back. He just holds your gaze, steady and unreadable, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Like he’s daring you to react.

Your pulse kicks up, an unfamiliar mix of emotions rising in your chest—something heated, something possessive, something almost irrational. You don’t know if it’s anger, annoyance, or something else entirely, but you feel it curling tight in your stomach.

Jake, still oblivious, is kissing along your neck, lips pressing slow, lingering against your skin. His grip on your waist tightens, his voice low. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, trailing another kiss just below your jaw.

But you barely register his words, barely feel the way he’s touching you. Because your attention is locked on Sunghoon, on the way he’s still looking at you, as if waiting to see what you’ll do.

And it makes your blood boil.

The spark of defiance ignites in your chest before the thought even fully forms. You don’t hesitate. If Sunghoon wants to play, you can play too.

Without breaking eye contact with him, you tighten your grip on Jake’s collar and pull him back into a kiss—this time, not soft or teasing, but intense, deliberate. Jake barely has a second to react before he’s melting into you, his hands sliding down your waist, fingers gripping your hips as he presses closer. He exhales a quiet groan against your lips, caught off guard but more than willing to follow your lead.

You tilt your head, deepening it, letting your nails drag lightly against the nape of his neck. The heat between you simmers into something heavier, something heady, and when Jake's fingers dig into your sides in response, you know he's completely lost in it. Good. That’s exactly what you need.

Still, even as you lose yourself in the kiss, you keep your awareness sharp, your senses wired. You know Sunghoon is still watching. And when you finally break the kiss, breathless, you make a point of glancing back toward him.

Your stomach twists the moment you do.

The girl beside him is even closer now, pressing into his side, lips trailing along his jawline like she’s mapping it out with precision. Sunghoon, on the other hand, looks completely unaffected. His expression is unreadable—bored, maybe. Or amused. His arm is lazily slung over the balcony railing, one hand wrapped around his drink, posture relaxed, unbothered. But his eyes?

His eyes are locked onto you.

There’s something deliberate in the way he holds your gaze, something slow and heavy, like he knows exactly what you’re trying to do—and he’s daring you to try harder. It makes your pulse spike, anger bubbling beneath your skin, because he’s playing right back, and worse—he’s good at it.

You refuse to let him win.

Turning back to Jake, you grab his wrist and pull him with you, leading him toward a more secluded corner of the smoking area, tucked behind a concrete wall where the lights don’t quite reach. Jake follows without question, his grip tightening around your hand, his breath uneven from the kiss.

“Where are we going?” he murmurs, voice low, eager.

You don’t answer. Not yet. Not until you steal one last glance over your shoulder, making sure Sunghoon sees exactly what you’re doing.

You don’t wait to see his full reaction, but you catch it anyway—the smirk pulling at Sunghoon’s lips, lazy and knowing, like he’s completely unfazed by your little game. Like he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. It makes your jaw clench.

But you don’t give him the satisfaction of hesitating. You disappear behind the wall with Jake, letting the dim lighting and the thrum of the distant bass swallow you whole.

The second you’re out of sight, Jake tugs you back against him, hands firm on your waist. He’s still catching his breath, his eyes dark with something unreadable—half amusement, half hunger. But there’s something else there too, something smug, something playful.

“You know he’s an asshole, right?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers dipping just beneath the hem of your dress. “And you know I’m so much better than him.” You open your mouth, but before you can say anything, he leans in, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Your stomach flips at the way he says it—not accusing, not jealous, just… taunting. Testing you. And you hate how much you like it.

Your lips curl, fingers sliding up his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Maybe I just like watching you get all competitive,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly, letting your lips ghost over his jaw. “Maybe I like making you work for it.”

Jake exhales sharply, his grip on you tightening. “Yeah?” His voice drops even lower, and before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours again, harder this time.

The kiss is intense, charged—his hands tugging you closer, his fingers digging into your hips as he backs you against the cool concrete wall. His lips part against yours, and you let him in, let him deepen it, let him take.

His mouth leaves yours only to trail lower, tracing a slow, deliberate path along your jaw, down to your neck. He finds that spot just beneath your ear and lingers there, lips pressing, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make you inhale sharply.

“Still thinking about him?” he murmurs against your skin.

You exhale something between a laugh and a breathy sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. “Not even a little.”

Jake chuckles, satisfied, before dipping lower. His lips trace down your collarbone, hot and open-mouthed, like he wants to leave something behind—some kind of mark, something to remind you who had you here first. His hands explore, one gripping your waist, the other slipping up your back, pressing you flush against him.

Jake’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your waist as he presses you further against the cold wall. His kisses turn rougher, more demanding—teeth grazing your lower lip before he tugs at it, swallowing the quiet gasp that escapes you.

"You like this, don’t you?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with something dark, something teasing. His hand slides up your side, fingers curling around your ribs as his lips travel back to your neck, biting down just enough to make your breath hitch. "Letting me push you around a little?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and when he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown, you know you’ve both lost track of who’s playing who. You don’t answer—not with words, at least. Instead, you tilt your head, giving him more access, your fingers tightening in his hair as he licks over the spot he just bit. He chuckles against your skin, satisfied, before sucking a bruise into your collarbone.

A soft moan escapes your lips, barely audible, but Jake catches it. His breath stutters for a split second before he exhales sharply, pressing his hips against yours in response. "Shit," he mutters, dragging his teeth over your pulse. "You can’t be doing that in my ear, princess. That’s not fair."

Before he can say anything else, the buzz of his phone vibrating in his pocket interrupts the moment. He ignores it. You feel it again. A steady vibration, insistent. Jake just groans, mouth still on your skin.

"Jake," you whisper, a little breathless. "It’s your phone."

"Don’t care," he mutters, kissing you again.

You laugh softly, pushing at his chest. "It could be important."

He pulls back just enough to look at you, jaw clenched, clearly annoyed. With a heavy sigh, he digs into his pocket, pulling out his phone. When he sees the caller ID, he groans even louder.

"For fuck’s sake," he mutters before answering. "What?"

You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but Jake rolls his eyes. "Bro, are you serious right now? I'm—" He pauses, glancing at you, then sighs again. "Fine. I’ll be there in a sec."

He hangs up and shoves his phone back into his pocket, looking at you with the most put-out expression. "It’s Niki. He’s making a toast or whatever and wants all the guys there."

You snort. "You should go…"

"Yeah." Jake sighs, rubbing a hand down his face before looking at you again. His eyes roam over your slightly disheveled appearance, the faint marks blooming on your collarbone. A smirk tugs at his lips.

You roll your eyes. "I was literally about to fix myself up."

His smirk widens. "Yeah, you better."

You smack his arm, making him laugh. "Shut up," you mutter, turning toward the restroom. "I’ll meet you there."

Jake steps away first, sighing dramatically as he runs a hand through his hair. “Better hurry up, angel,” he teases over his shoulder. “Don’t wanna keep me waiting too long.”

You roll your eyes, watching as he disappears into the crowd before exhaling and smoothing down your outfit. Your body still feels warm, buzzing from everything that just happened, but you shake it off, heading toward a bathroom nearby.

The hallway is quieter here, dimly lit, the noise of the party muffled behind thick walls. You push open the door and step inside, immediately making a beeline for the mirror.

The second you see yourself, you groan, leaning against the counter with both hands. Your lips are swollen, your hair is slightly tousled, and there’s the faintest hint of red blooming on your collarbone where Jake had been particularly eager.

“My god,” you mutter, tilting your head to inspect the damage. You press your fingers over the spot, sighing. “Girl, what the fuck are you doing?”

You shake your head, standing up straighter as you start fixing yourself. Running your fingers through your hair, smoothing out your clothes, fixing your lipstick in an attempt to erase the evidence.

Alright. You’re fine. You take one last breath, steadying yourself.

Then, pushing open the stall door, you step out—

Sunghoon is leaning against the wall right outside the bathroom, arms crossed, waiting.

His eyes meet yours immediately—dark, unreadable. There’s a flicker of something behind them, something almost amused, and then his lips quirk up at the corner.

“Took you long enough,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches for a second, your heart still settling from the mess Jake left you in, but you mask it quickly. “Were you waiting for me?” you ask, tilting your head, trying to sound unimpressed.

Sunghoon just shrugs. “Maybe.” You roll your eyes, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you—so casual, so at ease, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Having fun tonight?” he asks, voice smooth as ever.

You lift an eyebrow. “You tell me,” you counter. “Looked like you were having a great time with that girl.”

His smirk deepens, just a fraction. “You were watching?”

You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. “You were standing right there. Kinda hard to miss.”

He hums, tilting his head. “So, what? You jealous?”

The accusation makes your stomach twist, but you don’t let it show. You just let out a short, humorless laugh. “Not even a little.”

Sunghoon chuckles, low and deep. “Right,” he drawls.

You hate the way he says it—like he doesn’t believe you, like he knows better. And maybe he does. Maybe he caught the way your gaze lingered too long, how you clenched your jaw when you saw his arm resting lazily on the balcony railing, completely unfazed by your attempts to get a rise out of him.

You straighten your spine. “You must be enjoying yourself, though,” you say, voice laced with something just shy of sarcasm. “Didn’t look like you were complaining when she was all over you.”

Sunghoon just hums again, taking a slow step toward you. “Wouldn’t say that,” he muses.

Another step.

Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’re moving, and Sunghoon is right there, hovering just close enough to make your pulse stutter. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t do anything more than lean in, but it’s enough. Enough to make the space feel smaller, the air heavier.

“She was cute,” he admits, voice dropping slightly. “But I don’t even remember her name.” You bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to react. He watches you for a second longer, studying, waiting, and then his lips curve again. “What?” he murmurs. “Disappointed?”

Your eyes narrow. “I should’ve listened when people told me you were trouble.”

Sunghoon tilts his head, feigning curiosity. “Oh? And who told you that?”

You shrug, looking away. “People.”

He hums, like he’s considering it, then dips his head a little lower, just enough to make you look at him again. “Well,” he says, “they’re not wrong.” The words shouldn’t make your stomach flip. But they do. “And you know that,” he continues, voice quieter now. “You’ve always known that.”

You swallow, lips pressing together. Sunghoon’s smirk grows. “And you like it,” he says simply.

Something about the certainty in his voice makes your breath hitch. Like it’s not a question, not even up for debate. Like he knows you too well, has seen the way you react when he talks to you like this, corners you like this. You open your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to deflect, but he beats you to it.

“You don’t play fair, either,” he murmurs. “That’s why you pulled Jake like that.”

Your fingers twitch at your sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, you do.” The worst part is that he’s right. And he knows it. The tension stretches between you, thick and charged, but before you can get lost in it completely, something clicks in the back of your mind—Jake.

You blink, straightening slightly. “I have to go.”

Sunghoon doesn’t move, still caging you in. “Back to him?” You nod. He exhales sharply through his nose, a smirk still lingering on his lips. “Of course you do.”

You lift your chin. “Don’t start.”

Sunghoon just lets out a quiet chuckle, finally stepping back, giving you space. “Go ahead,” he says, waving a hand. You roll your eyes, stepping past him, ignoring the way your skin still feels too hot. And as you walk away, you swear you can still hear him laughing.

You make your way back to the party, heart still racing from your conversation with Sunghoon. The music pulses through the air, a mix of laughter and chatter filling the space as you navigate through the crowd.

You spot Jake and Niki at a table surrounded by a group of familiar faces—Heeseung, Beomgyu, Soobin, Woonhak, Jungwon, Jay, Sunoo, Giselle, and Yeonjun. Niki stands up, animatedly gesturing with a drink in hand, clearly in the middle of one of his infamous speeches.

“And let me tell you, folks,” Niki booms, “life is like a pizza! You can have all the toppings in the world, but if the base is soggy, it’s just not gonna work!” The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but smile. Niki’s ridiculousness is contagious.

As you reach the table, you lean against it, slipping in beside Jungwon. You rest your head on his shoulder, the comfort of his presence settling your racing thoughts. He glances down at you, an amused glint in his eyes.

Jungwon glances down at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Y/N?” he muses, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You blink up at him, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs, nudging you playfully. “You just stroll in here, all casual, after… whatever that was, and expect me to believe you’re only here for the pizza?”

You roll your eyes, the warmth of your earlier encounter with Sunghoon fading slightly in the comfort of your twin’s teasing. “I came for the pizza and Niki’s wisdom, obviously,” you reply, trying to sound serious.

Your brother chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer. You lean into him, the familiar warmth of his embrace making you feel safe and grounded.

But then your gaze drifts away from your brother and settles on Jake, who is seated next to Heeseung, laughter bubbling up between them. He’s animated, his eyes sparkling with joy as he jokes around, completely lost in the moment with his friends. Watching him, a wave of warmth washes over you, spreading from your chest to your fingertips.

In that moment, you can’t help but think how much you genuinely like him. The realization hits you with a gentle tug at your heart. If only you’d met under different circumstances, perhaps things would have been easier. Maybe you could have shared more moments like this, more laughter, and less confusion. The thought lingers in your mind, and you find yourself smiling softly as you wonder what the future might hold. Who knows? Maybe there’s a chance for something more between you two.

As if sensing your gaze, Jake looks over at you, a small smile spreading across his face. It’s the kind of smile that lights up his eyes, a mix of mischief and warmth, as if he knows he wants to be close to you but doesn't want to disrupt the fun he's having with his friends. You feel your cheeks warm at the sight, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

The energy in the room was electric, bodies swaying to the beat, laughter mixing with the music, until Niki broke through the crowd, breathless and wide-eyed. “Heeseung! Jake!” he called out, his excitement palpable. “You’ve got to see this! Whoopi Goldberg is on the dance floor right now!”

The mention of Whoopi had Beomgyu and Soobin leaning in, intrigued. “No way, are you serious?” Beomgyu asked, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “We have to go check that out.” Soobin nodded vigorously, already stepping forward.

Woonhak leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin on his face. “I actually talked to her earlier. She called me ‘Mr. Kim.’” He delivered the line nonchalantly, but the playful smirk on his face suggested he loved the attention.

Laughter erupted around the group, Jungwon and Jay nearly collapsing with mirth. Even Jake, who typically maintained a cool demeanor, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Niki seized his arm, pulling him toward the dance floor. “Let’s go, Jake!”

Watching them go, you felt a warmth spread through you. Jake looked so relaxed, so alive, his laughter ringing out amidst the chaos. It was a joy to see him enjoying himself without a care in the world.

“Hey,” Jungwon called, breaking you from your thoughts. “You wanna dance?”

With that, you followed Jungwon onto the dance floor, Jay, Sunoo, and Giselle close behind. The music pulsed around you, each beat vibrating through your chest. You lost yourself in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, letting the music take over.

Then you felt it—a shift in the atmosphere, something unsettling. You turned slightly, and there he was: Sunghoon, sauntering by with another girl, laughter escaping his lips like it was the soundtrack to your annoyance. The sight hit you hard, a surge of frustration bubbling up as you contemplated “accidentally” tripping him.

But no. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night. Not with your friends around, not with the music pumping, and definitely not when Whoopi Goldberg was potentially doing the cha-cha-slide somewhere in this building. You forced a smile, turned back to your friends, and kept dancing, determined to shake off the irritation.

Then, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Sunghoon’s eyes locked onto yours. For a fleeting moment, everything around you fell silent, the air thick with tension. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but before he could, the girl beside him pulled him back into their conversation.

You turned away, your jaw clenching. The music and laughter felt distant now, as if you were watching the party unfold through a haze. Jungwon noticed the shift in your mood and leaned closer, concern etching his features. “You good?”

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But as you moved to the beat, your gaze kept drifting back to Sunghoon, the weight of his presence hanging in the air like a cloud. The night was still young, yet suddenly, it felt a lot heavier.

After dancing for what felt like forever, the weight of your heels became unbearable. You decided it was time for a break. Spotting Sunoo chatting with Giselle, you made your way over. “Hey, I’m going to grab some slippers from my room,” you announced, already starting to walk away.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. He gave you a knowing look. “Just be careful, because there’s someone watching you all the time.” His tone was teasing, but you knew exactly who he meant—Sunghoon. The unspoken tension between the two of you was palpable, and Sunoo was well aware of it.

“Yeah, well, I’m going to my room anyway,” you replied, already moving away, not bothering to hide your smile.

As you strolled down the dimly lit hallway, the party music faded into a distant buzz, leaving just the thumping of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. You could feel Sunghoon’s gaze boring into your back, a familiar presence that sent little shivers down your spine. You could practically picture him brushing off that girl who had been flirting with him just moments before, his signature smirk dismissing her advances like a pro. He had this crazy way of commanding attention, and somehow, you were caught right in the middle of it.

Stopping in front of your door, the cool metal handle felt like a nice break from the heat radiating off your skin. Just as you turned, Sunghoon rounded the corner, the flickering light catching his jawline, making him look almost otherworldly in the shadows. “You know,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, a playful smirk on your lips, “I totally knew you’d pull this. You’re pretty obvious.”

His lips curled into that signature smirk that always sent a jolt through you. He stepped closer, the air between you charged with an electric tension. “And you can’t seem to stay away, can you? It’s like you’re into this little game we’ve got,” he shot back, his tone playful but with a hint of something deeper.

“Oh, is that what this is? A game?” You crossed your arms, trying to hide how giddy you felt inside. The banter flowed easily, but you both knew there was a lot more going on under the surface.

“Definitely,” he leaned in a bit, his eyes locking onto yours with a mix of mischief and challenge. “But don’t worry; I’m always down for a challenge. Especially with someone like you.”

Your heart raced at his proximity, a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins. You could feel your cheeks heating up, giving away the cool facade you were trying to maintain. “Well, you better keep up then,” you shot back, the words tumbling out with a surprising boldness.

Sunghoon chuckled softly, his amusement clear, but then his expression turned serious for a moment. “Oh, really? Should I?” His voice dropped low, each word hanging in the air, creating a charged intimacy that felt almost electric.

In that instant, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. The weight of unspoken words hovered between you, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the night was poised on the brink of something monumental. You could see the flicker of emotions dancing in his eyes, a mixture of challenge and desire, and it made your heart skip a beat.

“You know, I’m kinda tired of this back-and-forth game we’ve been playing,” he said, stepping even closer, a serious look crossing his face.

“Oh really? And what do you want, then?” You challenged, the playful banter tinged with curiosity.

“I want you, Y/N,” he admitted, the sincerity in his voice sending a thrill down your spine. “Not just this teasing dance.”

The seriousness in his tone made your breath hitch. It felt like a confession, raw and honest, cutting through the playful tension that had defined your interactions until now. You were caught off guard, your heart pounding louder in your ears. You met his gaze, a mix of surprise and something that felt like hope swirling in your chest.

He moved even closer, hovering just inches from you, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath brushed against your skin as he leaned in, almost whispering. “You talk about me being trouble, but let’s be honest—you’re worse than I am.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of thrill and frustration bubbling inside you. “What are you even talking about?” You looked up at him, and the playful glint in his eyes made your heart race.

“Come on,” he teased, tilting his head slightly. He leaned in, brushing his lips just beside your ear, making your breath hitch. “You get jealous at me flirting with other girls, but you can’t expect me to just sit here while you fuck with Jake, either. It’s a two-way street, you know?”

He pulled back slightly, looking deep into your eyes, searching for a reaction. You felt a surge of irritation mix with a strange thrill at his words, his expression teasing yet sincere. “Fine,” you huffed, frustration bubbling to the surface. But the truth was, you wanted to fight against it, to challenge him. “Maybe I don’t want to keep playing games too.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” He stepped back, that playful glint returning to his eyes. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the weight of his gaze pressing on you, and for a moment, all the teasing, all the games, melted away. “I want you to stop messing with my head and just be honest with me.”

Sunghoon’s expression softened slightly, and for a brief moment, the playful banter gave way to something deeper. “Alright, I can do that. I want you. No games.”

You felt your heart race at his admission, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “Okay,” you replied, your voice steady but laced with a hint of vulnerability. “No games.”

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a challenge flickering in his eyes. “But even now, you’re still not making the first move, are you?”

You held his gaze, unflinching. The air was thick with tension, and the silence stretched between you, charged with anticipation. You didn’t want to be the first to break; instead, you leaned into the moment, your heart pounding as you locked your eyes onto his.

Instead of waiting for him to lean in, you took a step back, slowly opening your door and entering your room, all while keeping your eyes fixed on him. You moved in reverse, your gaze never leaving his, a playful yet inviting challenge dancing in your expression. The door creaked slightly as you stepped inside, the space now feeling intimate and charged.

Sunghoon followed you inside, his gaze intense as he stepped through the threshold. He closed the door behind him with a firm thud, the sound echoing in the small room, sealing you both in a world of your own. You could feel the heat radiating off him as he advanced, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desires.

You walked backward until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed, the soft mattress providing a stark contrast to the tension in the air. You felt the gentle push as you sat down, your eyes never leaving his. Sunghoon remained standing, towering over you, a smirk still playing on his lips.

Sunghoon stepped closer, his expression shifting to one of determination. “So, you think you can just tease me like this?” His voice dropped an octave, filled with a rough edge that sent shivers down your spine.

You held his gaze, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “I’m not scared of you,” you replied, trying to sound bold, but the way he looked at you made it hard to maintain your composure.

He smirked, a confident glint in his eyes. “Good, because I’m not playing games anymore.” With that, he took a step back, deliberately creating a bit of distance. You watched, curious, as he slowly removed his blazer, revealing a fitted shirt that clung to his frame. He left a few buttons undone, exposing just enough of his chest to make your heart race.

The sight of him, so effortlessly confident and attractive, made your breath hitch. You leaned back on your hands, your heart pounding as you assessed him, unable to look away. The playful banter had evaporated, leaving only a charged atmosphere between you.

“See something you like?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, making it hard to think straight.

“Maybe,” you replied, a hint of challenge in your tone, even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly back, inviting him to close the distance.

Sunghoon stepped forward again, this time his presence more dominant, almost predatory. “You have no idea what you’re asking for, do you?” He leaned closer, making your heart race even faster. Standing before you, he towered over you, a commanding figure that filled the space with undeniable energy.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your chin, lifting it gently to meet his gaze. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt both vulnerable and exhilarated under his touch. “Look at me,” he urged softly, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of intensity and something deeper swirling within them.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of the moment, your heart pounding as he carefully maintained the connection. There was an undeniable tension in the air, charged with desire and anticipation.

“I want you to understand just how much I want this,” he murmured, his thumb stroking your chin lightly, sending electric sparks through you. It was a simple gesture, yet it felt like an invitation into something thrilling and unknown.

“I think I can say I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, heart racing as you laid your feelings bare.

“Oh, really?” he replied, a teasing glint in his eyes, his lips curling into a smirk that sent butterflies swirling in your stomach. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, a powerful move that made your breath hitch.

As he knelt, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in this charged atmosphere. He leaned in closer, his gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for your sandal, fingers brushing against your ankle as he began to slip it off.

You felt a rush of heat wash over you, the intimate gesture sending your mind into a whirl. You wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but the way he looked at you left you momentarily speechless. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, a stark contrast to the fiery desire building between you.

With deliberate slowness, he moved to your second sandal, his fingers brushing your skin as he slipped it off. His gaze never faltered, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The world outside your room faded, and it felt like just the two of you existed in this electrifying moment.

As he slipped it off your foot, he leaned in closer, lifting your leg gently. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pressed a soft kiss to your ankle, his lips warm against your skin. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, and you could barely contain the gasp that escaped your lips.

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, his smirk widening as he caught sight of the goosebumps that had formed along your leg. “Did that feel good?” he teased, his voice low and filled with mischief.

You could only nod, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations coursing through you. The way he was looking at you, combined with his gentle touch, was driving you wild. He leaned back in, his lips brushing against your skin once more, trailing slow, deliberate kisses up the length of your calf, his touch featherlight yet searing against your skin. Each press of his mouth sent another wave of heat rolling through you, making it harder to focus on anything but the way he was worshipping you with every movement. When he reached your knee, he lingered, his breath hot against the sensitive skin there, before placing a final, lingering kiss just above it.

Then, he stopped. He straightened to his full height, towering over you once more, his eyes locked onto yours in a way that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He looked at you like he was taking in every detail, every reaction, every silent plea hidden behind your parted lips.

“Stand up,” he murmured, his voice smooth but firm.

You hesitated for only a second before obeying, your body moving before your mind could catch up. As you rose to your feet, the space between you crackled with tension, the air thick with anticipation. Sunghoon stepped behind you, his presence overwhelming without even touching you. The warmth of his body was right there, just close enough to make your skin tingle, just far enough to make you ache for more.

“Turn around,” he instructed, and you felt the heat in his voice as you complied, slowly pivoting until your back was to him.

You held your breath, heart hammering in your chest as you felt his fingers brush over your shoulder, grazing the strap of your dress. He didn’t rush—no, he was taking his time, savoring every second. You could feel his breath ghosting over the nape of your neck, the sensation sending a delicious shudder through you.

His fingers trailed down the length of your spine, following the fabric of your dress as he reached for the zipper. But before he pulled it down, he leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing against the shell of your ear.

Sunghoon’s breath was warm against your ear, the tension between you thick enough to drown in. His fingers toyed with the zipper of your dress for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, voice low and dripping with amusement.

“Can I?” he murmured, his tone edged with something dark, something hungry, and you nodded.

And then, with a swift, decisive motion, he dragged the zipper down, the sound slicing through the silence. Your dress loosened instantly, slipping off your shoulders, the fabric pooling at your feet like it had simply given up under his touch.

Sunghoon took a small step back, just enough to take you in. His gaze darkened as it roamed over you, lingering on the deep blue lingerie that now stood between him and everything he wanted. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and his smirk deepened.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, almost to himself. “Did you wear this for me?”

Before you could answer, he was already moving, his lips pressing against your bare shoulder, slow and deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His hands traced the curves of your waist before gripping your hips, pulling you back against him so you could feel exactly how much he wanted you.

“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he mused between kisses, his mouth trailing up the side of your neck, making you shudder. “Wearing something like this, knowing I’d see it.” His teeth grazed your skin, and you gasped, your body instinctively pressing closer. Sunghoon chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “I think you like being caught.”

His hands slid over your stomach before he turned you around in one fluid motion. The second your eyes met his, you reached for the buttons of his shirt, fingers working quickly, desperate to even the playing field. But you barely made it to the middle of his torso before Sunghoon caught your wrists, halting your movements.

His gaze was sharp, his smirk downright sinful. “Did I say you could take my shirt off?” he asked, tilting his head. “Good girls ask first.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, all you could do was stare at him, heart pounding, lips parting in surprise.

The moment stretched between you for a beat—then, before you could react, Sunghoon pushed you back onto the bed. You barely had time to process the way your body sank into the mattress before he was over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other gripping your thigh, spreading you open beneath him.

His smirk was gone now. What replaced it was something darker, something dangerously close to pure need.

“Now,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “Let’s see if you can be good for me after all.”

Sunghoon hovered over you, his body pressing into yours, his breath fanning against your lips, but still—still—he hadn’t kissed you yet. His eyes burned into yours, his fingers tracing lazy circles against your thigh, teasing, withholding, making you squirm beneath him.

You were done waiting. You reached up, fingers threading through his hair, tugging him down—but before your lips could meet, he let out a quiet chuckle, his mouth barely ghosting over yours.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, with knowing.

You didn’t get a chance to respond, because in the next second, his lips finally crashed against yours, swallowing the air from your lungs. The kiss was nothing short of devastating.

His mouth moved against yours with an urgency that left you dizzy, like he’d been starving for this as much as you had. He didn’t hold back—he kissed you deep, kissed you like he wanted to ruin you, his hands tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, demanding more, taking more.

You melted into him, nails digging into his back as his tongue slid against yours, slow and deliberate at first, then more intense, more desperate. His teeth grazed your lower lip before he sucked it between his own, drawing a soft whimper from you. That sound only seemed to spur him on.

His hands roamed lower, gripping your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, like he was trying to fuse you together. The weight of him, the way he pressed into you with every shift of his body, had your head spinning.

Your fingers found their way to his shirt again, fumbling with the buttons, desperate to get it off, to feel his skin against yours. But just as you started to undo another one, Sunghoon suddenly grabbed your wrists, stopping you in your tracks.

His lips were swollen, his breathing uneven, but his voice was firm as he said, “What did I just say?”

You blinked up at him, dazed. “What?”

“I told you to ask first.” His voice dropped lower, more authoritative. His grip on your wrists tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you feel it.

Heat flooded through you, your breath catching at the way he looked at you—so in control, so effortlessly dominant. Still, you couldn’t help the whiny edge that crept into your voice. “But I—”

“Don’t start,” he cut you off, his tone sharp. His fingers traced down your arm, featherlight, sending a shiver through you. “You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?”

You swallowed hard, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. His words, his tone—it had you falling silent, something deep inside you tightening in response. Sunghoon’s smirk deepened, like he could see the exact moment you surrendered to him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, then leaned down, his lips crashing into yours again. This time, it was even more intense.

His kiss was all-consuming, leaving no space for hesitation. He devoured you, his tongue sliding against yours, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into your waist, your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back. Still straddling you, Sunghoon shifted, moving up onto his knees. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and your breath caught as you watched him slowly undo them one by one. You lifted yourself slightly, propping up on your elbows, eyes locked onto him, completely transfixed. The way his fingers moved, the slow reveal of his toned chest—it was hypnotizing, addictive.

He caught you staring, smirking. You swallowed, your cheeks burning, but you didn’t look away. Then he paused, his fingers still on the last few buttons. His gaze met yours, dark and unreadable. “Ask.”

Your lips parted slightly, your breath shaky as you whispered, “Can I touch you, Hoon?”

For a second, he just stared at you, like he was drinking in the way you looked—needy, desperate, completely at his mercy. Then, finally, he gave a small nod. You wasted no time. Your hands reached out, fingers sliding against his skin as you slowly pushed his shirt open. Your touch was soft, reverent, tracing over his chest, his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.

You leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chest as you worked on the last of the buttons, your lips trailing down the hard planes of his body, tasting him, feeling every flex of his muscles under your touch. The shirt slipped off his shoulders, falling to the bed, forgotten.

Your hands moved lower, gliding over his abs, down to the waistband of his pants. Your breath hitched as you hesitated there, glancing up at him, waiting, asking without words. His eyes darkened. Without a word, he reached down, fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, slow, teasing.

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, with something deeper. His thumb pressed just slightly against your lip, feeling the way it parted under his touch. “So obedient.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard, your entire body buzzing under his touch. Sunghoon tilted his head slightly, still toying with your bottom lip beneath his thumb. “Tell me what you want.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Your face felt like it was on fire, but you forced the words out, even if your voice came out softer than you intended. “I want you.”

Something dark flashed in his gaze, his smirk widening as if he’d been waiting to hear that. He straightened up, stepping back slightly until he was standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at you.

“Then be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

A fresh wave of heat surged through you at his words. You shifted, moving carefully until you were kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking up at him, heart racing in anticipation.

Sunghoon’s smirk never faltered. He let you settle into position before speaking again. “Take them off.” Your hands moved almost on their own, reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling slightly from the sheer tension in the air. You undid the buckle, the soft clinking sound loud in the otherwise quiet room. The button came next, then the zipper, your fingertips grazing the warm skin of his lower abdomen as you tugged the fabric down.

You took your time, dragging his pants down inch by inch, your fingers brushing against the firm muscles of his thighs, your breath coming out uneven as more of him was revealed to you. The air between you felt heavy, thick with anticipation, as the fabric slipped lower, pooling around his ankles.

Now, he was standing over you in nothing but his boxers, the outline of him straining against the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Your mouth went dry. Heat coiled low in your stomach, an intoxicating mix of arousal and the sheer intensity of the moment.

Sunghoon let out a low chuckle at your expression, dark amusement dancing in his eyes. He reached down, his fingers tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was a slow, teasing drawl, dripping with amusement, with control.

You weren’t sure if it was his tone, the way he looked at you, or the fact that you could feel his heat, inches away from your lips, but you felt dizzy. Your breath shuddered as you leaned in, your lips hovering just over the hard outline beneath his boxers, your eyes flicking up to meet his again, filled with nothing but quiet submission.

Sunghoon hummed, his smirk deepening. “Uh-uh.” His fingers traced along the side of your face before sliding into your hair, gripping it lightly. “You have to ask first, baby.”

Your stomach clenched. The grip in your hair wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to remind you who was in charge. Your lips parted, voice coming out softer than you intended. “Please, Hoon…”

His expression remained unchanged, feigning innocence. “Please what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering as you tilted your head, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss against his lower abdomen. His scent overwhelmed you, making you lightheaded. Your hands lifted to his hips, playing with the hem of his boxers, teasing the waistband between your fingers. “Let me take these off.”

Sunghoon inhaled slowly through his nose, looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. The hand in your hair tightened slightly, tilting your head back further. “Say please.”

You exhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

Something flickered in his gaze—satisfaction, control. It was a look that sent another wave of heat rushing through you, making your entire body feel hyperaware of the moment. The way he loomed over you, his chest rising and falling steadily, the grip he still had in your hair—it all made you feel small in the best possible way. Then, his smirk returned, slow and knowing, his head tilting just slightly as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing down lightly, testing you. “Go ahead, baby.”

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, and you took your time, dragging the fabric down slowly, purposefully, letting your nails graze against his hips as you went. As soon as he was bare, your breath hitched. You felt lightheaded with anticipation, the heat pooling low in your stomach tightening at the sight of him, already so hard for you. Sunghoon was big.

Your lips parted, a quiet, shaky breath escaping as you immediately leaned in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the base of his cock. His grip in your hair tightened, his chest rising with a sharp inhale as you trailed your lips up his length, your tongue tracing the prominent vein that ran along the side.

“Fuck.” His voice came out low, wrecked, his head tipping back just slightly before his gaze returned to you, dark and heavy-lidded.

You took your time, your tongue teasing him with deliberate, languid licks, savoring the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against your mouth. Sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier, his fingers tightening in your hair as he guided you subtly, his hips barely shifting forward, making you gasp.

“Just like that, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with approval. “So fucking good.”

The praise only fueled you, made you more eager, more desperate to please. You wrapped your lips around him, taking him in slowly, inch by inch, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. His reaction was immediate—a sharp exhale through his nose, his jaw clenching, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his thumb tracing your lower lip again when you pulled back slightly, your lips slick and swollen. “So fucking eager, huh?”

You nodded, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants, your pupils blown wide as you looked up at him, your lips slick and swollen. He shook his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips as his fingers tightened in your hair, guiding you back down. You leaned in again, parting your lips and taking him in, slow and deliberate at first, before hollowing your cheeks and sucking, letting your tongue drag along the underside of his cock, feeling the way he pulsed under your touch. His breathing hitched, a quiet curse slipping from his lips as his hand flexed in your hair.

“Fuck, just like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure. “You take me so well, baby. Such a good fucking girl.”

The praise only made you more eager, made you want to pull more sounds from him, made you want to push him further. Your hands gripped at his thighs as you moved, setting a steady pace, swallowing around him, letting out soft little moans that you knew would drive him insane. His hips twitched, just barely holding himself back from thrusting into your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his grip in your hair tightened sharply, pulling you back with a swift, firm motion. Your lips slipped from his cock with a soft, wet pop, and you blinked up at him, dazed, your mind foggy with the haze of arousal. Confusion flickered in your expression, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you searched his face, but he only smirked at you, his gaze dark and heavy-lidded.

Without a word, he let go of your hair and moved, shifting back onto the bed, sitting against the headboard, his legs spread lazily apart like he had all the time in the world. He propped an arm behind his head, watching you with an almost lazy amusement, like he was enjoying every second of making you wait.

Then, his voice cut through the thick silence. “Take those off for me.”

Your stomach clenched at his tone—low, commanding, expectant. You swallowed, nodding as you slowly got to your feet, standing at the edge of the bed as you reached for the straps of your bra.

Sunghoon’s gaze never left you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he watched, his dark eyes flickering with anticipation. You dragged the straps down your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down inch by inch, revealing your bare chest. His smirk widened as he caught sight of it, his eyes darkening, his fingers flexing against his thigh. You let your underwear pool at your feet, and you could feel the hunger in his expression, the way his fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to reach out and grab you.

Then, he tilted his head, patting his thigh once, his voice smooth, teasing. “Come here, pretty.”

Your breath hitched, your skin prickling with anticipation as you moved towards him, crawling onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate, almost feline, like you were savoring every second of this.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice nothing but smooth approval. “So fucking pretty for me.”

The moment you were close enough, his hands found your waist, his grip firm, possessive—grounding you even as the rest of your body buzzed with anticipation. You hovered over him, your palms pressed against his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. His fingers dragged along your sides, slow and deliberate, like he was committing every inch of you to memory, like he had no intention of rushing this.

And then he saw it. A darkened mark blooming against your collarbone, the unmistakable imprint of lips and teeth that weren’t his.

Sunghoon stilled, his smirk curling at the edges as his fingers ghosted over the bruise. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I knew he was going to mark you…” His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something darker, something claiming.

Before you could respond, his lips were on you, tracing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin. He took his time, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot before sinking his teeth in just enough to make you shudder.

“And I knew you were gonna let him,” he murmured against your skin, voice thick with amusement. His lips moved higher, grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “You can’t control yourself, can you?”

A sharp smack landed on your ass before you could process his words. You gasped, the sting spreading deliciously through your skin, and your eyes shot to him in shock, only to find him already watching you, biting down a smirk. He tilted his head slightly, gaze dark, knowing. “You like that, huh?” His fingers kneaded at the spot, soothing the burn even as his smirk grew.

Your breath hitched, the heat in your stomach curling even tighter. You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

Sunghoon let out a soft, breathy laugh, his hand squeezing your waist, grounding you as he pulled you closer. “I knew you were dirty like this.”

And then his lips were on you again, but this time, lower. He kissed down the valley between your breasts, slow and teasing, his tongue darting out to taste your skin before he bit down gently, sucking another mark into your flesh. His hands smoothed over your thighs, squeezing, gripping, before sliding up to cup your chest, his thumbs brushing over your already hardened nipples.

He took his time with you, savoring every reaction, every little gasp, every arch of your body against him. It was intoxicating, the way he could pull sounds from you with just his mouth, just his hands. You whimpered as he dragged his tongue over your sensitive skin, your hips involuntarily rolling against his stomach, seeking friction, seeking anything.

His grip on your hips tightened instantly, stilling your movements. “Behave,” he said, his voice low, commanding, a warning.

A thrill shot through you at his tone, at the weight of his control, but you weren’t ready to submit just yet. You met his gaze, tilting your head slightly, feigning innocence. “Or what?”

His smirk widened, slow, almost lazy, like he was waiting for you to say that. Like he’d been hoping you would. “Oh, sweetheart…” His fingers dug into your skin, his voice dropping into something deeper, darker, full of promise. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Before you could process, he moved. A sharp gasp left your lips as Sunghoon flipped you onto the mattress in one swift, effortless motion, pinning your body beneath him. His hands were on you immediately—strong, commanding, securing your wrists above your head with ease. His grip was firm, his body caging you in, leaving you completely at his mercy.

Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths as you stared up at him, wide-eyed, your skin burning everywhere he touched. His gaze was dark, filled with something primal, something almost dangerous. And then he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the lightest of touches before he bit down on your lower lip, sharp enough to make you whimper.

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath fanning over your lips. “What do you want?” His voice was deep, teasing, dripping with control.

Your body arched instinctively, your thighs squeezing together in desperate search of relief, but you couldn’t move—not with the way he had you pinned so effortlessly beneath him. A whimper escaped you, but no words followed. Sunghoon smirked.

His grip on your wrists shifted, securing them in one hand, while his free hand trailed down your jaw, his fingers gripping your chin with just enough force to make you shiver. He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes, his thumb brushing slowly over your parted lips.

“Tell me,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Your breath hitched, your body writhing under him, and when you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Fuck me, Sunghoon.”

He hummed, tilting his head, pretending to think. “Didn’t quite hear you, baby.” His hips lowered, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing, taunting, making you gasp. Your entire body trembled beneath him, the ache inside you growing unbearable.

A frustrated whine left your lips, your voice turning desperate, pleading. “I want you to fuck me, Sunghoon.”

He let out a dark, satisfied chuckle. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Before you could take another breath, his hand was between your legs, fingers gliding through your wetness, spreading you open. The teasing circles he drew over your clit made your thighs shake, your body twitching at every deliberate, calculated movement.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His fingers pressed down harder, rubbing slow, languid strokes that sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core. “You’re so wet for me, baby.”

You whimpered, your back arching against his touch. “Don’t tease me, please… I need you.”

Sunghoon smirked against your skin, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear before he murmured, “I need to prep you first.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding between your folds, teasing at your entrance. “Don’t want to hurt my pretty girl.” His voice was soft, almost affectionate. He lets go of your wrists, and you hold on to his arms.

His fingers slipped inside you with ease, stretching you open, filling you in a way that had your back arching off the mattress. A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers curling into the sheets beneath you as Sunghoon worked you open, his movements slow at first—teasing, purposeful.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, watching your face closely, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So fucking good for me.”

His fingers moved faster, deeper, the lewd sounds of your wetness filling the room, only fueling the fire in his darkened gaze. Your thighs trembled, your body tightening around him, the pressure in your stomach coiling impossibly tight. He could feel it—how close you were. And he wanted to push you over that edge.

“Tell me…” His voice was low, almost a growl, as his fingers pumped into you with merciless precision. “Did he treat you nice like this?”

Your mind was hazy, the pleasure consuming you whole. You couldn’t even form words, couldn’t respond—all you could do was moan, your nails digging into his forearm as his pace quickened.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue, shaking his head with mock disapproval. “Can’t answer me?” His free hand came up, gripping your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. His thumb dragged along your swollen lips, smearing the drool that had gathered there. “You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you? Wanting two cocks at the same time… so greedy.”

His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, shame and arousal intertwining in a way that made you squirm beneath him. “But I’m gonna ruin you for every other man,” he murmured darkly, leaning down, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “You hear me?”

The coil inside you snapped, your orgasm crashing over you so intensely that you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, your thighs trembling, your body convulsing beneath him as you unraveled onto his fingers.

Sunghoon groaned, watching you fall apart with hooded eyes, completely mesmerized. Slowly, he pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, bringing them up to his lips before slipping them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them, savoring the taste of you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with desire.

You barely had time to recover, your body still trembling in the aftershocks, before he was positioning himself in front of you, his cock in hand, the tip already leaking against your entrance.

He looked at you then—really looked at you. Your eyes were dazed, pupils blown wide, lips parted as you gazed up at him with a look that made his breath hitch.

“Are you okay?” His voice was softer now, a hint of something almost tender behind the rough dominance he exuded. You nodded quickly, biting your lip, anticipation swirling in your stomach as you ached to feel him inside you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he murmured, stroking your thigh, his restraint evident in the tension in his muscles.

Sunghoon was big, and the mere thought of him stretching you open made you whimper. You looked up at him with wide, needy eyes, an innocent expression that only fueled the hunger in his gaze. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around your thigh.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging the tip of his cock over your clit, rolling it in slow circles, making your body twitch beneath him. “You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” You could only nod, your breath hitching, your body strung so tight that you thought you might go insane if he didn’t fill you soon.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he murmured, his voice slightly strained, as if he was holding himself back. You nodded again, appreciating the gentleness beneath his roughness, the way he still cared even while acting completely in control.

And then, finally, he pushed in—the thick head of his cock stretching you open, sinking into you inch by inch. Your body clenched around him, the feeling overwhelming, pleasure spreading through you like fire.

Your eyes rolled back, a moan slipping past your lips as you let your head fall completely against the bed, your hands gripping onto his strong biceps, needing something to ground you.

Sunghoon groaned lowly, watching the way your body took him, the way you squeezed around him so perfectly. “Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his voice strained, his control hanging by a thread. “You feel so fucking tight.”

His grip on your thigh was possessive, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. The slow, deliberate pace was maddening, the tease unbearable, but he seemed to revel in it—watching the way your body reacted to him, the way your lips parted in breathless moans, the way your fingers clawed at his biceps, desperate for more.

Your forehead pressed against his, both of you breathing heavily, lost in the intoxicating heat of each other’s touch. The room felt electric, the air thick with tension, every sound amplified—the slick slide of him moving inside you, the breathy whimpers escaping your lips, the deep, guttural moans he let out every time your walls clenched around him.

His hold tightened, fingers bruising as he gripped the back of your thigh, spreading you wider for him, as if he wanted to claim every inch of you. His lips ghosted over yours, teasing, never quite kissing you, just breathing you in, his warm breath fanning over your flushed skin.

“You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?” His voice was a dark whisper against your lips. You could only nod, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “Say it.” His hips rolled forward, a deep thrust that had your eyes rolling back, your nails scratching down his toned back.

“I—” You gasped, barely able to form words. “I wanted this so bad.”

Sunghoon groaned, his self-control slipping as he pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward again, burying himself deeper inside you. The stretch burned in the best way possible, a delicious ache that made your head spin. He was so big, filling you to the brim, making you feel completely owned, completely his.

His pace was still torturously slow, but each thrust was deep, deliberate, making you feel every inch of him. He watched your face intently, taking in every reaction, every twitch of your brows, every gasp and moan that tumbled from your lips.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. “So fucking desperate.” You whimpered, your hands flying up to grasp at his wrist, not to pull him away but to hold onto him, to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.

His thumb dragged over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh before slipping into your mouth. “Suck.” You obeyed without thinking, lips wrapping around his thumb, tongue swirling over the pad of it as you gazed up at him with glassy eyes. “Fuck,” he muttered, his restraint snapping.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, replacing it with his lips as he kissed you with a hunger that left you breathless. His pace quickened, hips slamming into yours with a force that made the bed creak beneath you.

The shift in tempo had you gasping, whimpering against his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him in deeper. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rhythmic, wet sounds of him fucking into you, mixed with your broken moans and his deep, raspy groans.

“You take me so fucking well,” he praised, his lips dragging down your jaw, to the curve of your neck, where he sucked and nipped, leaving his mark. “My good girl. So tight. So perfect.”

Your body arched into him, every nerve ending ignited, your head spinning with pleasure. You could feel it building again—that familiar, fiery coil in your stomach, tightening with every thrust, with every filthy word he whispered into your ear.

“Sunghoon—” You gasped, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “I’m—” He groaned, sensing exactly how close you were.

“Not yet,” he growled, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside you, his pace relentless now, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you trembling. “You’re gonna cum when I say you can, baby.”

You whined, body betraying you, your walls fluttering around him, your muscles locking up as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. “Hold it.” His voice was dark, commanding, but his own resolve was slipping. He was close too, his thrusts growing erratic, deeper, harder.

You couldn’t. You physically couldn’t. Your body was on fire, your mind blank, pleasure consuming you whole. “Sunghoon, please,” you sobbed, shaking beneath him.

His hand wrapped around your throat again, squeezing just enough to send you spiraling, his voice a breathy groan as he finally gave you permission.

“Cum for me.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, so intense it stole the breath from your lungs, your vision blurring as your body convulsed beneath him. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck—” Sunghoon groaned, his movements growing sloppy, his grip tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, his own release hitting him like a freight train. His body tensed, his cock throbbing as he spilled inside you, filling you with warmth, his breath ragged against your ear.

The room was silent except for the sound of heavy breathing, both of you completely spent, bodies tangled together in the sheets. Sunghoon pressed lazy kisses to your jaw, your collarbone, your lips, his touch softer now, almost gentle.

Your body felt weightless, as if you were floating in the haze of pleasure that still clung to you, leaving you warm and blissfully dazed. Your limbs were heavy, spent, but his touch—gentle, soothing—kept you tethered to reality.

“You okay?” Sunghoon murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but still laced with concern. His fingers found your face, brushing away the damp strands of hair sticking to your forehead. His eyes, still dark with the remnants of desire, softened when they met yours.

You nodded weakly, your body still buzzing, your mind slow to catch up. He smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, slow and tender, as if savoring the taste of you, before rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. Your body draped over his chest, his warmth seeping into you, anchoring you in a way that made you want to stay like this forever.

His fingers traced absentminded patterns along the bare skin of your back—slow, lazy circles, up and down your spine, making you shiver despite the heat radiating from his body. His other hand, rough yet careful, brushed over your arm, then your waist, like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, like he needed to remind himself that you were still there, tangled up with him in the sheets.

A deep sigh left his lips, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath you, the rhythm soothing, hypnotic. You pressed your cheek against his heart, listening to the soft thump, feeling the way it still raced slightly, evidence of how much he had wanted you, how much you had affected him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was full, heavy with unspoken words, but not in a way that begged for answers. It was enough just to be here, wrapped up in each other, breathing the same air, feeling the same warmth.

Then, after a moment, his hand came up to cup the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair, massaging your scalp in slow, rhythmic motions. A small hum of pleasure escaped you at the comforting sensation, making him chuckle under his breath.

“Feels good?” he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head. You nodded again, too content to form words.

He shifted slightly, adjusting so that you were more securely nestled against him, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. “I like this,” he admitted, voice quieter now, more raw. “Having you like this. Feels… different.”

You lifted your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your fingers trailing over his collarbone, tracing the defined lines of his chest. “Different how?”

His eyes flickered down to you, something unreadable swirling in them. His thumb stroked the curve of your hip, his lips parting slightly before he hesitated. Then, with a quiet sigh, he muttered, “I don’t know. Just… good.”

Your heart clenched at the way he said it—so unguarded, so unlike the teasing, cocky Sunghoon you were used to. This was different. This was intimacy in its purest form, something unspoken lingering between the two of you, too fragile to name, but too strong to ignore. You pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to hover over him, your fingers still lazily tracing along his chest. “You don’t have to say anything,” you whispered. “I get it.”

His gaze searched yours for a moment before he exhaled, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He reached up, brushing his knuckles against your cheek before guiding your lips back down to his. This kiss was different from before—no urgency, no hunger, just something soft, something deeper. He kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, like he wanted to leave a piece of himself behind in every press of his lips against yours.

You melted into him, sighing into the kiss, your hands coming up to frame his face, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you even closer. He kissed you slowly, taking his time, as if you had all the time in the world.

When he finally pulled away, his lips lingered against yours, his breath warm as he murmured, “Next time…” You swallowed, waiting, your body already shivering at the thought of what he might say next. “…I’m not letting you off so easy.” His voice was teasing, but the promise behind it sent a thrill down your spine.

You bit your lip, a lazy smile playing on your lips before leaning in to press a soft kiss against the sharp line of his jaw. “I think I’d like that,” you whispered, the tease in your voice making Sunghoon let out a low, satisfied chuckle.

Without a word, he pulled you in closer, rolling onto his side until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive kind of ease. His hand smoothed over your stomach, fingertips tracing light patterns against your skin, grounding himself in the warmth of you.

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, and for a second, he just held you there—basking in the way you fit so perfectly against him. The thought crossed his mind, unbidden, that he liked having you like this, wrapped up in him, safe in his arms.

But he’d never admit that.

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author's note: SOOOOO.... LMAOOOOO READER IS THIS YOU RN?????

my best friend read this chapter and absolutely lost her mind so i’m taking that as a good sign LMAO also sorry for the length, i know it’s longer than usual but hopefully it’s worth it 👀

this is only the second smut scene i’ve ever written and i can’t believe it actually turned out good??? like hello since when do i have this talent i’m actually shook. anyway, i’m gonna take a little longer than usual to post the next update, so savor this one while you can 😌 BYEEEEE

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet @who-tf-soddhi @ilovewonyo @nickiminajleftasscheek @ikeulove @payformycoffeeandleave @jvngw0nlvr @qtke @nikirangs @rairaiblog @tinyteezer @catecita @aespaqq @cyberstephzz @jakesimfromstatefarm @maniluvzyou @stormy1408 @missychief1404 @heevrs @shuichi-sama @enhastars @immelissaaa @pjselee @hexnoia @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @love-4-keum @doublebunv @minfolio @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @doveblackboat @psychotic-girl-666 @kukkurookkoo @allie-mcginn @jkslvsnella @wintereals @why4anne @jakesfurry

[sweetfcwn]

sharing a bed for the first time with george and hes trying to make you feel comfortable but hes also just teasing you nonstop

same sheets - george clarke.

this is such a cute request! thank you so much - let me know what you think!!

you’re lying there in the quiet of the room, barely able to breathe without feeling your heart skip. george is next to you, sprawled out but somehow still so close. the bed feels impossibly small, but not in a bad way. you can feel the heat of his body even though there's still a little space between you.

“you’re being awfully quiet,” george says, his voice light and teasing. you glance at him, only to find him watching you with a grin playing at the edges of his lips. you roll your eyes, trying to act like you’re unaffected.

“i’m just tired,” you mutter, but it comes out more as a confession than anything else. george raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“tired, huh?” he repeats, leaning up on one elbow. “or maybe you’re just too shy to admit that you’re nervous sharing a bed with me?”

you try to hide the blush creeping up your neck by pulling the blanket tighter around you. “i’m not nervous,” you insist, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds.

“uh-huh,” george says, his grin widening. “sure, sure. i can see that little twitch in your eye.” he wiggles his fingers, making you jump slightly as they hover just above your arm. “you’re practically vibrating with nervous energy.”

“i’m not!” you protest, though it’s even harder to hold your ground when he’s so close, that ridiculous grin on his face, and his fingers so close to your skin.

“okay, okay,” he says, giving you a mock-somber look, like he’s trying to act serious. “i’ll stop teasing. promise.”

you relax a little, but just as you start to feel like you’re in the clear, you feel the bed shift beside you. before you know it, george’s arm is around your waist, pulling you gently closer. “but you’re still blushing,” he whispers in your ear. “and now you’re way too close for me to ignore that.”

you stiffen, half-expecting him to tease you about it more, but instead, you feel his thumb softly rubbing circles on your arm, gentle and reassuring. “you’re cute when you blush,” he says, the teasing in his voice replaced by something softer.

“stop,” you mumble, but the smile on your face gives you away. you know exactly what he’s doing, and he knows exactly how to get under your skin in the best way possible.

“what? i’m just telling the truth,” he says innocently, but the way his fingers trace along your skin tells you that he’s enjoying this way too much. “besides, it’s cute that you’re embarrassed. i didn’t know i had this effect on you.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you mutter, but you can’t stop your lips from curving into a smile. you give up trying to pretend like it’s annoying when it’s actually just… endearing.

george’s grin softens a little, and he pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “i just like making you smile,” he admits, his voice quieter now, a little more sincere. "and if that means teasing you a bit, i’ll take the risk."

you melt into the warmth of his embrace, the teasing, the laughter—it all feels like a comfort now, like something that’s just part of the rhythm between the two of you.

“yeah, well,” you say, your voice soft but playful, “you’re doing a pretty good job of it.”

george chuckles, and you feel the vibrations in his chest. “that’s all i ever want to hear.” he tightens his hold on you just a little, and you can’t help but feel a quiet happiness settle in your chest as you close your eyes. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

[l-starsz]

Billie convincing reader to let her eat her pussy on her period

I'm inlove with your fics, you're such a damn good writer 🫶🏽🫶🏽

a/n: this probably isn’t great because i’m SOOO tired and my head is pounding rn but i hope it’s good at least🥲 and thank you so much ml!! i’m so sorry this took ages for me to write🫶

billie and i were laying in bed together, watching a movie. her back was resting against the comfy pillows on our bed, whilst my back was resting against her front. i was sat between her legs, and her hands were lightly resting against my thighs. we were both intrigued in the movie, or so i thought. whilst i was watching, and keeping up with the storyline, billies hands began to wander. they roamed up my stomach, cupping my boobs gently, before moving down again to this time, rest against my inner thighs.

i really tried to focus on the movie, but i just couldn't with her hands all over me. i knew nothing could happen, i was on my period, which meant that i had to wait a few more days until she could touch me. i'd been so horny. i was desperate for her, but we both knew that nothing could be done about it. well, she could fix my horniness, but i felt bad for asking her to do that when i was on my period. so i waited, and somehow put up with the feeling of being unbearably horny almost all day, every day.

soon enough, i felt her pressing light kisses behind my ear, down my neck, before lightly whispering in my ear.

"can i try something, baby?"

i slightly turned in her arms so that i could see her face, before answering her in a hushed tone.

"and what would that be, hm bil?"

"please can i taste you?"

my eyebrows furrowed and i looked away as i wondered why she was even asking. she knew i was on my period. she'd practically been taking care of me for the last few days. grabbing me a hot water bottle, or holding me in her arms whenever my cramps worsened. getting me whatever food i wanted when i was craving something. making sure i was drinking plenty of water. she really was the best. i just didn't understand why she was asking this now.

"i.. baby, you know i'm still on my period."

"i know.. i just can't wait!! i want to taste you please, love. i'll do anything."

i hesitated slightly. what if i made a mess, and then she got mad? what if i didn't taste good? she must have noticed the look on my face because she began speaking again.

"if you're not comfortable with this, then we don't have to do it. but i promise you that you don't need to overthink it, there should be no what if's filling your mind. you know i love you no matter what. i think you're the most perfect girl in the world."

how did she know?

it was like she could read my mind.

"pleaseeee? pinky promise i'll take great care of you, angel. just like always. pretty please?"

if i hadn't been so horny for the last few days, i probably would've said no, but that side of my brain just took over. i needed her so so bad. i reminded myself that she would always love me. this wasn't going to change that. she wanted this just as much as i did.

"if i say yes, can you put a towel down? you know.. just in case?" i mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"of course, angel. whatever makes you feel the most comfortable." she answered me, placing soft kisses on my forehead.

once i'd spent a short amount of time thinking about it, i looked back into her eyes and nodded.

"i need you billie."

she just smirked at my words, before sitting me up slightly so that she could move from behind me, and settle in between my legs instead.

it didn't take her long to leave the room and grab a towel, folding it slightly and placing it underneath me. she sat on her knees at first, slowly pulling my pyjamas and underwear down so that she had the perfect view of me. once our clothes had been discarded in a messy pile on the floor, she leaned down to lay on her stomach, getting even closer to my core. i let out a needy whine when all she did was lightly blow against my pussy.

she could already see how wet i was. i hadn't told her about how needy id been for the past few days, but i think that as soon as she caught a glance of how wet i was, she immediately realised. she didn't bother to waste any more time, diving straight in. her tongue ran a long stripe up my pussy, before focusing on my clit. she was trying to get me wetter, it wasn't like she needed me to be wetter, she just wanted to tease. i reached my hands down to grab her hair, pulling her impossibly closer to my core in an attempt to get her to move faster.

we both knew that i was already pretty sensitive because of how long i'd needed this, so it wouldn't take her long to get me close, which was why she was trying to drag it out as much as possible. she wanted me to last as long as i could.

her tongue flicked my clit, before licking and slurping, just doing as much as she could to bring me pleasure. after what felt like an eternity, she finally moved to push her tongue inside of me. she worked her tongue against my tight walls as they squeezed against her. my orgasm was approaching fast, and my arousal must have been dripping all over the lower half of her face. at that point, i'd completely forgot that i was on my period, and i think billie had forgotten too. we were both too focused on me finishing.

i was so close, and to add to the pleasure, she pressed her fingers on my clit, quickly rubbing circles against it, making my moans as loud as they could get. i couldn't hold it any longer. no matter how hard i tried, i was too desperate.

"billie! baby, can i cum for you? please?" i moaned out.

"that's ittt." she praised, "cum for me, my love."

as soon as i heard those words, my orgasm hit me. my moans and cries were broken whilst i let the feeling consume me. my back was arching off the bed, and my hands were still tangled in billies hair, gripping onto it tight to ground myself slightly.

as i started to come down from my high, my grip loosened on her hair, and i felt one of her hands gently rubbing my stomach to help me calm down. when i finally flopped against the bed, trying to catch my breath, billie pulled her face away from me, looking into my eyes with a proud smile. all i could see was a mixture of my arousal, and blood dripping down her chin and coating her lips.

my cheeks turned red and i covered my face, embarrassed even though i knew billie was just happy that she'd made me feel good.

i didn't even notice her come closer to my face until i felt her carefully grabbing my wrists to pry my hands away from my face, and i heard her pretty voice.

"don't be embarrassed, angel. can i go clean you up now?"

"please." i nodded and thanked her, allowing myself to be lifted up in her arms, my head resting on my shoulder out of exhaustion.

once we took a long shower, and pampered each other, it was time for us to get back in bed and watch movies for the rest of the day, enjoying each others company just like usual.

[die-auster]

Artist's ask 14 – favorite side pairing, part 4

Kuruk/Ummi – I don't know if it counts as Atla or Kyoshi novel ship, but they definitely worth mentioning.

By the way, all come to @kuruk-weekend. I will participate for sure.

Id in ALT

Other side pairings: 1, 2, 3

[nerdie-faerie]

Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart

[mariasont]

Early seasons Spencer’s gf joining the team and quickly realizing just how used to Spencer she is bc the rest of the team’s reactions to him are so different from hers

Cinnamon Sticks - S.R

a/n: obsessed with the idea of baby spencie having a gf who just gets him while he's still an awkward, nerdy little genius! thanks for requesting bestie so sorry it took so long i am the worst LOL

masterlist

pairings: early!seasons!spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, secret relationship, relationship being exposed bc these two are just so in love

wc: 1.7k

Garcia burst into the bullpen like some sort of whirlwind that was painted in neon, her scarf fluttering behind her almost like a cape. She juggled a precariously full cup of coffee, while her phone teetered between ear and shoulder as if testing the limits of human dexterity.

"I swear to all that is holy, if my life doesn't slow down in the next five minutes--"

The sentence derailed as she misjudged her pace, the coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup. She stopped abruptly, her arms a flurry of motion, but not quick enough to stop the scalding liquid from spilling over and searing her fingers.

"Oh, fantastic! Just what I needed!" she huffed, waving her hand like it might stop the sting.

She threw herself into the closest chair with a huff, slumping back and fixing the coffee cup with a murderous glare, like this was just another tally in a long line of grievances.

Your eyes darted up from your work, only for a moment, enough to confirm what you already knew. You hadn't been working here long, but it was long enough to recognize the phenomenon that was Garcia: a blur of motion and words, mid-rant before anyone had the chance to catch up. It was like clockwork really.

You risked a glance across the desk at Spencer, who was so absorbed in his notebook it was a wonder he even remembered to breathe. If Garcia's antics registered as white noise to anyone, it was him. But then, almost like he had a radar for being watched, he looked up, catching your gaze.

His eyebrows lifted into a subtle what can you do? expression, and you couldn't help but smile back.

That was the thing about Spencer. He had this uncanny knack for knowing exactly what you were thinking, almost as if he had a cheat sheet for your brain. And maybe he did--like his brain worked three times faster than everyone else's in the room (which, let's face it, it definitely did). But instead of that being intimidating, it was oddly reassuring.

"At this rate, I'm one bad email away from alphabetizing my entire pantry for stress relief."

Spencer's notebook hit the desk, and there it was--the shift. His shoulders drew back, face lighting up--the kind of thing that signaled his mini-lecture was incoming.

"Organizing your pantry is actually a practical stress management technique. By categorizing items, you create a structured environment that reduces decision fatigue. Its why people feel calmer in tidy spaces, it's psychological."

Morgan held up a hand. "Psychological, huh? Sounds like you’re just trying to justify your weird love affair with labels, pretty boy.”

“Don’t forget,” you added absently, flipping a page in your report, “it also saves time when you’re cooking. I think you called it practical efficiency."

The words slipped out without much thought, but as soon as they did, the bullpen stilled. You glanced up, heart sinking as you saw every face turned in your direction.

Morgan’s grin was the first thing you notice--wide and knowing, stretching across his face. He tilted his head, eyes bouncing between you and Spencer like he was putting pieces together in real time.

“Wait a minute,” he said, sitting forward with a gleam in his eye. “Did you just quote him? Like, word for word?”

Your cheeks heated instantly. “What? No. I mean—maybe. I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure you did,” Morgan shot back, smirking. “Man, what else has he been teaching you? You got the periodic table memorized too?”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “Oh, please. If you’ve been around Spencer long enough, you’re bound to pick up a few things. He’s like a walking encyclopedia.”

“Well,” Spencer said, his head tilting slightly as he spoke, “your cinnamon sticks always end up at the back of your pantry. That’s why I figured you might appreciate the idea of organizing by use frequency. Like I said, practical efficiency.”

The moment the words left his mouth, you knew he’d made a tactical error.

Garcia gasped, her eyes lighting up like she’d just been handed the juiciest piece of gossip of her life. 

“Oh. My. God. Spencer Reid, how exactly do you know what the back of her pantry looks like?”

You froze, rooted to the spot as the realization hit you like a cartoon anvil. This was bad.

Spencer’s expression mirrored yours for half a second—wide-eyed panic—but he quickly scrambled for an answer. 

“It’s, um… a logical assumption,” he stammered, his fingers toying with the pen in his hand, a nervous tell he couldn’t quite suppress. “Spices like cinnamon sticks always seem to migrate to the back of the pantry unless there’s an intentional system in place.”

Morgan let out a long, low whistle, rocking back in his chair with enough force to make it creak. His grin was insufferably smug, the kind that practically begged for something to be thrown at him. 

“Nice save. But I don’t think Garcia’s buying it.”

Garcia tapped her chin, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Oh, no, no, no. This is too good. I mean, logical assumption my fabulous behind! Cinnamon sticks in the back of her pantry? Really? What’s next? A detailed analysis of how she stacks her cereal boxes?”

You laughed, though it sounded more like a bark than anything natural. “You’re all reading way too much into this. Spencer just knows weirdly specific things about, well, everything. That’s kind of his thing, remember?”

“Mmhmm,” Garcia hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Alright, genius, I’ll let it slide this time. But I’m watching you.”

“Please don’t,” Spencer muttered under his breath, earning a round of laughter from the team.

Garcia spent a solid ten minutes in full interrogation mode after that, her eyes narrowing with each and every pointed question she lobbed your way. Morgan, of course, was no help. He leaned back, grinning like a kid with a front-row seat to the circus, his smirk practically screaming that he knew they were this close to striking a nerve.

Spencer and you had been so careful. You'd been dating long before you joined the BAU, but the moment Hotch had called to offer you the position, you both knew you'd have to keep things under wraps. Dating a coworker was one thing; dating Spencer Reid, a genius with an accidentally too-honest mouth, was an entirely different challenge.

You hadn't expected it to be this hard, though. Keeping the secret wasn't the worst part--it was pretending he wasn't the center of your universe every time you walked into the room. It was keeping your hands to yourself when all you wanted to do was smooth out the messy strands of hair that always fell into his eyes. It was biting your tongue when someone interrupted his long-winded tangents because the truth was, you loved hearing him talk.

The hours stretched on, and the bullpen slowly thinned out. Garcia was the first to leave, blowing a kiss to the room. Morgan left soon after, pausing to flash you one last grin before disappearing. Even Prentiss packed up for the night, muttering something about needed an extra shot of espresso tomorrow morning.

"You handled that well."

You looked up from your report to find Spencer by your desk, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other skimming lightly along the edge of the divider. His expression was surprisingly soft, almost bashful, as though he had been waiting to get you alone.

"Handled that well?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You were the one who almost blew it, Spencer. Cinnamon sticks? Really?"

He smiled, lips twitching upward as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Okay, I'll admit that wasn't my most subtle moment. But in my defense, they do end up at the back of most pantries."

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned back in your chair. 

"We're lucky Garcia got distracted. If she'd pushed any harder..." Your voice drifted into a soft sigh. "That could've been bad."

"That was a close one."

The quiet that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt a little more substantial, if that was the word, filled with that soft ache that always bloomed in your chest when he was near. 

Spencer stepped closer, his hand brushing against the edge of your desk. His body angled toward you, like even when you weren’t touching, he couldn’t help but gravitate toward you.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “I don’t think she actually suspects anything. But we should probably be more careful.”

"Probably," you replied, drawing out the word in a teasing, sing-song tone. “Unless you’d rather keep showing off how ridiculously well you know me.”

His cheeks flushed a soft pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, that shy, boyish smile—the one that always made you a little breathless—spread across his lips.

"That's going to be hard," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I noticed a lot about you."

The words hit you like they always did--soft enough, but with the force of a thousand butterflies taking flight in your chest. You could feel the flush creeping up to your neck, and you mentally cursed him for how easily he was able to do this to you.

"You're lucky I like you."

His smile widened, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in that way they only came out at specific moments. Like when he successfully performed a card trick for the team or when he stumbled across an original copy of a book at a library sale. 

The same one you'd seen when he talked about his mom on her good days, or when you asked him on a date. 

You leaned forward. "And since I like you, any chance you'd want to kiss me right now?"

"How could I not, with you looking at me like that?"

The angle was clumsy--your chair too low, his frame leaning awkwardly over--but all of that melted away the second his hands found your face. His thumbs brushed soft circles against the place where your cheek met your jaw.

His lips were soft against yours at first, testing, before growing firmer, more sure. The kind of confidence that came with a hundred familiar kisses before. 

Time seemed to slow, or at least for you it did, the rest of the world nonexistent.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the spell, and you jerked back from Spencer, your chair wobbling slightly as you turned toward the sound. You immediately regretted it--your lips felt swollen, your face hot, and there was Prentiss, leaning against the doorframe.

"We were... uh, testing something," you blurted, avidly avoiding eye contact. "You know, like... oxygen exchange! For scientific purposes."

Spencer blinked, then mumbled, "Oxygen exchange? That's the best you got?"

"Shut it," you hissed through gritted teeth, not daring to look at him.

Prentiss arched a brow. "Relax, lovebirds. If this is your idea of scientific research, I'll make sure Garcia doesn't find out. You're welcome."

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join my taglist here!

[beloveds-embrace]

(Based on the idea of having a sensitive nose in the omegaverse, poly 141 x reader)

The air in the meeting room was dense with overlapping scents: leather, citrus, gunpowder, faint traces of cigar smoke. It was suffocating. You had been doing your best to keep a neutral face, to not draw attention to the way your sensitive nose wrinkled every few seconds as the mingling aromas assaulted your senses.

You weren’t trying to be rude; it wasn’t anyone’s fault that their scents were this potent. It was just your lot in life to have a nose that picked up everything. And you were part of this stupid task force, which meant you were constantly surrounded by some of the most intense scents imaginable.

It was John who caught your reaction first. The alpha was sitting across the table, arms crossed, earthy, smoky scent rolling off him in waves. His cigar habit didn’t help matters; it clung to his clothes, his hair, his skin- every part of him. Your nose twitched involuntarily as another wave hit you, and his brow furrowed deeply.

“You alright there, love?” he asked, low and curious, though there was an edge to it.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah, I’m fine.” You lied quickly, forcing a smile and trying to breathe through your mouth instead.

His sharp eyes stayed on you for a beat longer, and the corner of his mouth tugged downward. He didn’t believe you, but he let it slide.

Soap, however, wasn’t as subtle. He had been perched on the edge of his chair, citrusy, spicy scent practically bouncing off the walls. The man smelled like an explosion at an orange grove- sharp and tangy, with an undercurrent of something metallic that always made your head throb.

“Are you wrinklin’ your nose at me, lass?” He asked, accent thick, tone mock-wounded.

“No! No, not at all.” You stammered, shaking your head. God, what you wouldn’t sacrifice to leave this room…

“Looked like a bloody insult to me,” Johnny teased, though there was something almost earnest in his pout. “Dinnae think I smell that bad, eh? Gaz, back me up here!”

Gaz- bless him- was seated beside you. His scent was a calm balm in the storm: a light, fresh breeze with subtle hints of cedar. It didn’t overpower your senses. It was safe, grounding. You leaned ever so slightly in his direction, seeking refuge without realizing it.

“I think it’s just her nose being sensitive,” Kyle said smoothly, shooting you a kind look. He always seemed to know when you were struggling, always gave you a quiet out. “We probably smell stronger to her.”

“You mean Price and Johnny stink.” Ghost rumbled from his spot at the back of the room, scoffing in amusement.

You glanced at him, and, God, he really was no better. He was a mixture of John and Johnny- a heavy, musky scent tinged with smoke and gunpowder, like he’d been living in a war zone for years. It was hard to breathe when he was near, though his stoic demeanor meant he didn’t take it as personally as the others.

“Oi, I don’t stink!” Johnny protested. “I smell fresh, like citrus and energy.”

“Explosives aren’t energy.” Ghost deadpanned.

“You all smell fine,” you said, hasty and desperate, your voice thin and shaky. “I just have a… sensitive nose. That’s all.”

“You’ve been wrinkling it all bloody morning,” Price grumbled, arms crossing tighter. “If you don’t like something, just say it. We’re alphas; we can handle it.”

“I don’t dislike it!” you blurted. “It’s just… strong. All of you smell so strong, and my nose is a little… overwhelmed.”

Kyle chuckled softly, a sound that eased the tension in the room. “Can’t really blame her, can you? The three of you probably do smell like a bloody armory to her.”

Price frowned, clearly still annoyed, but Johnny looked contemplative, leaning toward you with a curious expression. “You’re not lying, are you? Your nose is just sensitive?”

“Very.” You admitted, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m not trying to insult you, I promise. It’s just… a lot.”

Johnny relaxed a little, though his pout remained. “Alright, lass. I suppose I can let you off the hook this time. But you should’ve said something earlier.”

“And deal with you taking it more personally than you already do? No, thank you.” you muttered under your breath.

Kyle snorted beside you, and you turned to him with a grateful smile. “You’re the only one who doesn’t make my nose hurt, by the way. Thanks for that.”

The other three bristled instantly.

“What?” Price barked, looking genuinely offended.

“Gaz doesn’t smell any less than we do.” Ghost growled, eyes narrowing beneath his balaclava, and Johnny threw his hands up in exasperation.

“She’s playing favorites, that’s what this is!”

“It’s not favoritism!” You said quickly, holding your hands up defensively. “He just smells calmer. It’s not as… intense.”

Kyle, smug but silent, leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. He didn’t say a word, but the satisfied glint in his eyes said it all: he’d won.

Of course, this only made the other three more competitive.

“Maybe you just need to get used to it.” Price suggested, peering at you.

“Aye,” Johnny added, grin wide and cheeky. “Maybe we need to stick closer to you so your nose can adjust.”

“Or maybe you all need to tone it down.” you shot back, though your voice lacked bite, and they just stared at you even more intently- even Ghost.

It was going to be a long day.

[ivyues]

Anxious Introductions: Stray Kids’ reactions to their S/O being nervous to meet the members

Bang Chan

Chris had been trying to bring up the subject of you meeting his members for weeks, but you always seemed to shy away whenever he mentioned it.

"Hey, they’re just as nervous to meet you as you are to meet them," he says softly.

You nod, taking a deep breath. "I just know how much they mean to you, and I want it to go well."

His smile grows warm, and he leans in to hug you. "You mean so much to me too. They’ll see how amazing you are."

The day you finally meet them, he keeps an arm around your waist, introducing you like it’s the proudest moment of his life. The members greet you with wide smiles, Chris whispering, "See? Told you they'd love you."

Lee Know

As you fix your hair nervously for the third time, your boyfriend smirks from his spot on the couch. "You’re this anxious to meet them? I should be offended" he teases, his tone light. "You're going to be fine. You already survived Han Jisung."

What you don’t know is that Lee Know had already had a talk with the other members earlier. He had casually, but firmly, told them, Don’t scare her off. It wasn’t a full-on threat, but the members knew better than to push their luck.

When you walked into the dorm, you’re surprised by how calm everyone seems. They greet you warmly, none of the overwhelming antics Han had warned you about.

"See? Nothing to worry about," Lee Know whispers smugly, his shoulder warm against yours. Though, over the course of your next visits, the true nature of their antics slowly revealed itself to you.

Changbin

Changbin glances over at you in the car and notices you biting your nails, a telltale sign of your nerves. He doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches over to gently take your hand away from your mouth.

"Hey, don’t do that," he says softly, intertwining your fingers with his. "You’re way too amazing to be this nervous."

You give him a small, shy smile, but he’s not done. "Seriously, you’re smart, funny, beautiful, and my mom likes you already – and she hasn’t even met you. The members don’t stand a chance; they’re going to love you."

When you arrive at the dorm, he keeps his hand on the small of your back as he opens the door.

"Guys!" he calls dramatically, a wide grin on his face. "Meet my amazing girlfriend!"

The sudden loud introduction makes you shrink back slightly, your cheeks flushing as you glance at the group of curious but welcoming faces looking your way.

Hyunjin

As you nervously bite your lip, your mind races about what to expect from meeting Hyunjin's members. The more you think about it, the more anxious you become. Hyunjin notices, his eyes softening. He gently takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, it's okay," he says in a soothing voice, guiding you toward the door. "They’re really excited to meet you, and they’re not as scary as you think." He smiles, his voice low and comforting.

You glance at him, managing a nervous smile. "I just don’t want to make a bad first impression," you admit softly.

He squeezes your hand again. "You’re going to be fine," he reassures you. "Just be yourself."

When you walk inside, the members greet you enthusiastically, but the nervous energy is still radiating off of you. Hyunjin stands close to you, subtly nudges you and, with a playful glint in his eye, whispers, “See? They’re just like me – except a little louder.”

Throughout the evening, he stays by your side, always checking in to make sure you're okay. As the members warm up to you, you start to feel more comfortable, smiling at their funny tendencies.

Han

Han’s excitement is contagious. He’s practically dragging you towards the dorm, rambling about how cool his members are and how cool you are.

"They’re going to love you!"

When you hesitate at the door, he grins mischievously. "Honestly, I’ve already told them everything about you. They probably know you better than I do at this point."

When you give him an awkward smile, he grins. "That means they are propably going to tease me, not you."

The moment you walk in, the members indeed start to playfully tease him. "Finally, we meet the famous girlfriend Han won’t shut up about!" Hyunjin laughs.

You find yourself laughing, making your nerves disappear, as Han dramatically protests, "I didn’t talk that much… okay, maybe I did. But you would too if you had an girlfriend that amazing!"

Felix

Felix notices the way you’re nervously smoothing out your clothes. He gives you a warm hug, his voice soft and soothing. "I know you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be. You’re everything to me, and they’ll see that too."

You glance at him, biting your lip. "I just... I know they’re protective of you, and I get it. You’re so kind, and I don’t want them to get the wrong impression."

He gives you a warm smile. "They’ll love you. How could they not? But if it helps, just focus on me, okay?"

When the door opens and the members’ boisterous voices echo through the hallway, you freeze slightly, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Felix squeezes your hand reassuringly and gently tugs you forward.

"Guys, this is my girlfriend," he says with quiet pride, his voice cutting through the chatter.

Despite your nerves, the members’ smiles and welcoming energy slowly ease the tension. Felix stays close, occasionally brushing your hand with his or sneaking you a small grin.

Seungmin

Seungmin doesn’t say much about your nerves but quietly prepares for it. On the way, he shares a bunch of embarrassing stories about the members to make you laugh.

"Just remember – they’re the weird ones, not you," he says with a small smirk.

When you meet the members, his calm presence feels grounding, like an anchor amidst the unfamiliar chaos. The members immediately start asking you questions and trying to make conversation – partly because they’re genuinely curious about you and partly to tease Seungmin.

He’s surprisingly talkative, steering the conversation to keep things flowing smoothly. Every now and then, he looks over at you with a reassuring smile, silently letting you know he’s there for you. You find yourself relaxing, thanks to his steady presence and subtle encouragement.

I.N

I.N notices your silence as you both approach the dorm, your hands nervously clasped together. He gives your hand a squeeze and flashes you a boyish grin.

"Don’t worry, they’re just a bunch of big kids – except for me, obviously," he says with a teasing tone.

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. "You being their baby doesn’t help. If anything, it makes it worse."

He laughs, the sound light and teasing. "Okay, fair. But if I’m their baby, that just means it's a bigger thing that I'm bringing you over. You? You’ll be safe."

He grabs your hand and confidently introduces you, showering you with compliments in front of the members. "See? My girlfriend is amazing!" You can’t help but smile at his infectious energy.

masterlist

[iamzer0]

May you please do yandere platonic season 2 squid game reader with 13 year old reader who wants to stay

Hi can do!

Yᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ Pʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ Sǫᴜɪᴅ Gᴀᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ Tᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

(MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS)

You had managed to get yourself into the games, congratulations..! I guess..

You tried to blend in but you stuck out like a sore thumb.

So many people had questions especially this guy named Gi-hun.

For some odd reason he was very insistent on you leaving.

You just couldn’t understand why, all you were gonna do was play some silly games for some cash.

How dangerous can that be?

During the first game red light green light, you knew you had this in the bag.

That was until the first shot was fired, your entire body froze. Even with Gi-hun screaming instructions you were still frozen.

Even when people began to start moving again you stood there frozen.

Tears are down your face, you were terrified.

Then someone grabbed your shoulder, it was this lady with a lip ring(player380).

She guided you along the field.

You had 30 seconds left, the people that were at the finish line screamed words of encouragement towards you.

It was strange to have so many people cheering you on all at once.

You crossed the line finally, and collapsed into player 380’s arms.

After the game you sat on the floor, ignoring the sympathetic looks from others.

You sat there thinking on what to do.

Thats when player 388 came and sat with you, he introduced himself and his friends to you.

“Are you ok..?” Gi-hun asked in a tone that could only be described as pity.

“Yea.. I think” you said quietly.

That’s when armed guards came in, they told y’all about the voting system and how you could vote to stay in the game or not.

Everyone placed their votes when it was your turn the room became eerily silent.

You could feel everyone’s eyes staring at you. Your hand hovered over the X button but then you thought about it.

About your parents and their struggle, you thought about all the loans they had to take out just to keep you in school.

You hesitated before pushing the O button.

You heard a collection of gasps and cheers.

You slowly walked towards the O side avoiding Gi-Huns look of disbelief.

You were met with pats on the back and words of support.

Then in a flash you were pulled to the side by some purpled haired guy(thanos) he did his whole introduction.

You thought he was insane, he looked cracked out.

But every time you tried leaving he would pull you back.

He looked at you as if you were an artifact that needed safe keeping.

Fortunately you pulled away by dae-ho(388).

That was when you met player 001(frontman) he stared at you intensely studying you.

They questioned you on why you chose O but you didn’t feel like explaining yourself.

From then on you had multiple people trying to convince you to join their side. They wanted you to quit the game.

You protested you wanted to stay in, but no matter what you said they never let up.

You started to not like the people you were stuck with.

Part of the reason was they treated you like a baby, some of them even coddled you.

It was nice a first, people gave you some of their food, they lended their protection to you.

But in the end it became much more annoying rather than loving.

Around the second game is when things got really bad.

People all around you offering for you to join their team, you walked around until you got pulled onto Thanos team.

You were in charge or spinning top and all though you were good you could barely focus with all the people yelling.

You managed but not before yelling some very unkind words.

After the games you had people practically swarming you, you wanted to cry and throw up all at the same time.

Then a miracle happened, player 001 pulled you out of the crowd.

Yelling at them all while holding you close to himself.

He held you close for a while, it got kinda awkward after the first 20 minutes.

It was a very overwhelming experience being in the game, along with the killing games, people were starting to seriously scare you.

I mean they were having full on arguments over you. It was kinda insane.

Even the guards treated you differently, they gave you the occasional head pat after a game, they slipped you extra food, and no matter what time it was they always let you use the restroom.

It was nice to have so many people care about you but care becomes smothering after a while.

You started becoming the apple of everyone’s eye, everyone was just so 𝙨𝙪𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜.

A/n: I hoped you liked this one, I love u all so much bye bye✌︎('ω')✌︎

[witherby]

what would be littlest wayne's first word be?

I was thinking of something simple or sweet, but then I got the funniest idea on the planet.

The Littlest Wayne: First Words

You were babbling a lot more lately. Your family all knew it meant you were likely going to say your first words soon, and the fighting over who got to have your attention increased tenfold. It had gotten to the point that your brothers were practically kidnapping you to monopolize your time and attention. Bruce put his foot down and ended that whole charade when it stopped being endearing and became dangerous.

("Really, Damian? Your skill in combat is not in question, it has never been in question, but you cannot bring them on patrol with you on the off-chance they happen to say their first words in the middle of the night!")

So, Bruce takes you to the Watchtower anytime he has a Justice League meeting. It pisses off all of his sons, but he's arguably bringing you to the safest spot in the galaxy. Also, he's your father. It's not kidnapping if you're kidnapping your own child. Okay, it is, it very much still is, but that's not the point.

"Okay, Mouse," he murmurs, easing you onto the floor and handing you a stuffed teddy bear. "The meeting's only an hour, then we're going back home. Dada will take you home."

(Maybe he wants to steer you towards your first word himself. Sue him, he's just a man at the end of the day.)

You take the bear, staring openly at your father. You don't see him often in the Batman suit, so he's very visually appealing at the moment. Bruce allows himself a small smile, gently pinching your cheek, then he steps out of the way when Diana arrives.

"The babyyy!" She whisper-yells, kneeling next to the playpen. "Hello, little one! It's such a treat when Batman brings you around!"

You make some soft, babbling noises. Mostly you're making raspberries. It's a fascinating sound. Diana melts and wipes some drool from your chin.

"Someone's getting close to their first words. My mother said mine was "maim." I remember that conversation fondly..."

Bruce has to remind himself that Diana grew up on an island inhabited by immortal warrior women. "Maim" is a perfectly normal first word for an immortal warrior baby.

The other Leaguers start quickly filing into the meeting room, each of them stopping cheerfully to greet you. It makes something fond bloom in Bruce's chest, and you coo and openly admire all the people with bright, primary colors all over their bodies. You're busy trying to chew on Superman's cape when a glowing, green light enters your periphery, and you drop the fabric in favor of staring at the Green Lantern.

"Oh, bring your kid to work day, huh, Spooks?" Hal actually scoops you up out of the pen and cradles you to his chest, grinning down at you. "Hey, kiddo!"

"Mmmnnn," you mutter intelligently, reaching for his mask. Every time you manage to pop it off, he just wills another one on. You think this is the most entertaining game ever.

"The kids are taking them out into the field, now," Bruce sighs. "They all want to be the one to hear their first word. Which is fine. It's adorable. I love that they love the baby. But the baby does not belong on Gotham's streets in the middle of the night, especially if guns are involved."

"Oh, yeah, that's pretty bad," Hal says, smiling at you. You pop his domino mask off again, squealing when it dissolves in your fingers and another one materializes over his face. "Uncle Hal would never do that to you, would he? No! No he wouldn't! That's very dangerous!"

"Huh...Hal!"

Everyone freezes. Bruce's jaw actually drops.

"No fucking way," Barry blurts across the room.

"Language. There's a whole baby here, Flash," Oliver says, but he's grinning like an idiot.

"Hal!" You chirp again. "Hal!"

Bruce sinks to his knees. Clark looks like he's trying not to laugh. Barry and Oliver are definitely laughing. Diana is pouting over the fact that your first word was so tame and boring. J'onn doesn't understand why your first word is so important when it just means you'll eventually learn to say more.

Hal is nearly trembling with the flood of emotions. His thing with Bruce is very new, and he's been by the Manor often enough that you obviously know him, but he really hadn't anticipated his name being...being...

"The boys are going to kill me."

"Maybe," Bruce admits, still on the floor. "...it couldn't be dada? It couldn't be uppies? Or Mouse, or any of the other words you hear ten thousand times a day? Even Alfred thought you might try his name first."

"I think we're going to need to postpone the start of the meeting," Clark declares, coughing as a way of clearing his throat and definitely not to disguise his amused huffs. "Let's push it back fifteen minutes."

"Hal!" You chirp again, delighted. You finally pulled Green Lantern's mask off and it didn't disappear. You win!

[pucksandpower]

Love at First Wink

Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader

Summary: in which Charles can’t wink, you think he might be having a stroke, fans (and media) notice something strange, and your love story is immortalized through Reddit posts

r/NoStupidQuestions

u/LordPerceval · 16h

How do I learn to wink without looking like a weirdo?

Alright, so I’m 27M, and for some reason I’ve never really figured out how to wink without looking like I’m having some kind of muscle spasm or, I dunno, an awkward twitch. Like, I see people do it in movies or just casually, and it always looks so smooth and effortless. But when I try, either both of my eyes close (which, yeah, not a wink) or I just look like I’m really struggling.

It’s honestly starting to bug me because it would be nice to be able to wink in a fun way, like in a “just playing around” or “gotcha” kind of moment. But instead, I avoid it completely because I’m scared I’ll make things super weird or uncomfortable.

So, how does one go about learning how to wink properly? Is it just a practice thing? A facial muscle thing? Am I overthinking it? Any tips are appreciated, even if they seem basic. Thanks in advance!

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u/SmoothOperator · 15h

Ah, the ol’ wink struggle! Don’t worry, man, you’re not alone. First thing you gotta do is RELAX. If you’re overthinking it, your whole face gets tense and that’s what makes it look awkward. Try it in front of a mirror, and focus on just casually closing one eye without squinting or forcing it too much. It’s more about a light, quick gesture than a full-on eye close.

And yeah, it’s 100% a muscle thing, so if it feels weird, it’s probably because your face isn’t used to it yet. You’ll get there with some practice. Also, remember, winks aren’t meant to be perfect. They’re supposed to be playful and a little subtle. Don’t go for the exaggerated “movie star” wink, just keep it light!

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u/awkwardpenguin · 13h

I totally feel you on this. I’m 24F and still can’t wink without looking like a malfunctioning robot. I found it helped to practice with only one side of my face in the mirror first. Maybe try winking with your left eye only for a while, get that one down, and then see if the right side follows?

Also, don’t overthink it too much! Sometimes a half-bad wink can be charming if it’s done in the right moment. Shows you’re not taking yourself too seriously!

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u/TheRealMaverick · 12h

Dude, it’s just like learning to snap your fingers. Some people just get it, and some people gotta work on it. I couldn’t wink for years without looking like I had something in my eye. My advice: watch yourself in the mirror and do it slowly at first. Get the feel of which muscles you’re using. Start by squinting a bit with both eyes, then try to isolate one. Once you get it down slow, speed it up.

Also, fun fact: some people can only wink with one eye and not the other. So if your right eye’s just not cooperating, maybe you’re a left-eye winker!

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u/CouchPotatoSupreme · 10h

Haha, I went through this same struggle. My trick was to add a little smile to the wink. It somehow makes the whole thing look more natural and less like you’re trying too hard. Plus, smiling relaxes your face, so the wink looks smoother. Try it next time you practice!

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u/theeyeguy · 9h

It’s all about muscle memory, man. The more you do it, the more natural it feels. I recommend winking at random stuff when no one’s around — like your TV, the microwave, whatever. You’ll build up the muscle coordination without feeling weird about it. Eventually, your face will stop fighting you, and you’ll just be able to fire off a wink like a pro.

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u/ActuallySocrates · 7h

Are you maybe closing your eye too slowly? A lot of people mess up winking because they think it’s a slow, exaggerated thing. But the trick is to make it fast and subtle. You want it to be quick, almost like a blink but with only one eye. If you’re dragging it out, you’re probably straining the muscles too much, which makes it look awkward.

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u/Pizza4Breakfast · 6h

Honestly, just own it. I can’t wink either, but I found that the more I tried to force it, the worse it looked. So now, when I attempt to wink and it looks ridiculous, I just laugh it off and it becomes this goofy thing instead of a weird thing. Sometimes confidence is half the battle, even if you’re failing at winking.

Good luck, dude!

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***

r/WouldIBeTheAsshole

u/UnmedicatedStudent · 9h

WIBTA for telling a stranger I think he might be having a stroke?

So, this is a bit weird, but I’m a 24F med student (just started my clinical rotations), and I’m currently studying at this cafe. There’s this guy sitting at a table directly across from me, maybe mid-to-late 20s? And for the last 30 minutes or so, his left eye has been twitching a lot. At first, I thought it was just one of those random muscle twitches that we all get, but it’s been consistent. It’s actually kind of intense, and he keeps rubbing his face like it’s bothering him.

Here’s the thing: as a med student, I know that eye twitches can be totally benign, but I also know they can sometimes be signs of something more serious, like a stroke or some kind of nerve issue. I keep debating whether I should just casually go up to him and be like, “Hey, not to freak you out, but I’ve noticed your eye twitching for a while now. I’m a medical student, and you might want to get it checked out, just in case.”

BUT I’m also aware that I could come off as a complete weirdo. Like, maybe he’s just stressed or tired, and here I am, a random stranger diagnosing him in a public place. I don’t want to embarrass him or make him anxious over nothing, but I also feel like I’d be an AH if I don’t say something and there actually is a problem. What if it’s a mini-stroke or something and I just sit here doing nothing?

So, WIBTA if I go up to him and suggest he sees a doctor?

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u/DrCoffeeAddict · 8h

NTA. I think there’s a way to approach it without making him feel super uncomfortable. Maybe go with something like, “Hey, I’m a med student, and I’ve noticed your eye twitching. It’s probably nothing serious, but I just wanted to mention it because sometimes it can be a sign of something that should be checked out.” If you keep it casual and friendly, most people would probably appreciate the concern rather than be freaked out.

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u/ItsNotABug · 7h

Agreed. NTA. If it were me, I’d rather someone point it out than have it potentially be something serious and not know. It’s all about the way you frame it. I mean, worst-case scenario, he’ll just laugh it off and say he’s been staring at his laptop too long. But best case? You could be catching something early. Definitely worth a try.

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u/ChillZebra · 5h

Soft YTA if you approach it the wrong way. I can see how he might feel embarrassed or weirded out if a stranger suddenly tells him his eye is doing something abnormal, especially in a public setting. I’d probably feel a little awkward. BUT if you go in with tact and don’t sound too alarmist, you could be doing him a huge favor. Just keep the conversation light!

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u/Caffiend · 4h

As someone who deals with chronic eye twitches (thanks, stress and caffeine), I’d probably be more embarrassed than anything if someone approached me about it. That said, I’d still rather know if it could be something serious. Maybe wait until he’s leaving, so you don’t put him on the spot in front of a crowd, but I’d say go for it. You’re NTA.

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u/LizzyBizzy · 2h

NTA! I think people overestimate how much others will be embarrassed by stuff like this. You’re coming from a place of concern, and if you’re polite and kind about it, I doubt he’ll be offended. If he is, that’s more on him than you. You’d probably regret it more if you don’t say anything and keep wondering if you should’ve.

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u/AllergicToYourDrama · 1h

Honestly? YTA. Look, I get it, you’re a med student, and you’re probably hyper-aware of stuff like this. But coming up to a stranger and telling them their eye twitch might be a medical emergency is a good way to freak someone out. He’s probably just tired or stressed. I’m not saying you should ignore it, but there’s a fine line between concern and overstepping boundaries.

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u/UnmedicatedStudent (OP) · 52m

I was worried someone might say this 😅 I don’t want to seem like I’m stepping into “know-it-all med student” territory, but yeah, it’s hard to shut off that part of my brain sometimes. I know I could be totally overreacting, and it’s probably nothing … but part of me would feel guilty if I didn’t at least mention it. Thanks for the input!

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u/PeachyKeen · 59m

NTA. I think the key is to not come across like you’re diagnosing him. Just be casual about it, like, “Hey, I’ve noticed this, and it’s probably nothing, but just in case, I thought I’d mention it.” If I were in his shoes, I’d appreciate someone saying something, especially if it’s coming from a med student who might know more than me about what to look out for.

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u/TheRealDeal · 49m

NTA. He’s probably just had too much caffeine or is stressed, but it’s nice that you’re concerned. Worst case, he thinks you’re a little awkward, but hey, that’s better than potentially missing a serious medical issue. You can’t control how he’ll react, but you’re not an AH for caring.

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u/DefinitelyNotASurgeon · 43m

NTA, but definitely approach with caution. Maybe frame it as more of a “Hey, this might be nothing, but I’m a med student, so I tend to notice stuff like this …” That way, you’re not jumping straight to “I think you’re having a stroke” but still letting him know it might be worth getting checked out.

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u/ItsNotThatDeep · 39m

YTA for even thinking it’s a stroke, lol. Just kidding! Seriously though, NTA if you do it politely.

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***

r/NoStupidQuestions

u/LordPerceval · 8h

[UPDATE] Tried learning to wink — got mistaken for having a stroke. But hey, I got a date!

So, a few days ago, I made a post here asking for tips on how to wink without looking like a malfunctioning robot. Well, I took all your advice, and I’ve been practicing … a lot. Maybe too much.

Fast forward to today: I’m at a cafe, sitting alone, just trying to sneak in some subtle winks at my reflection in the window (you know, totally normal behavior). I’m really focusing on trying to get one eye to close without the rest of my face getting involved. After what must’ve been 20 minutes of this, I notice this woman a few tables over, kind of looking at me, but I figured she was just judging my weird wink practice session.

Next thing I know, she walks over, says, “Hey, I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m a med student, and I’ve been watching your eye twitch for a while … I think you might want to see a doctor in case you’re having a stroke.” 😳

I nearly died from embarrassment right there. I had to explain that I wasn’t having a stroke, I was just trying to learn how to wink. She laughed (thankfully) and admitted it was an honest mistake, given how badly my face was contorting.

But here’s the plot twist: she’s actually gorgeous and super funny. After a bit more chatting, she gave me her number, and we’ve got a date this weekend. So, while I still can’t wink without looking like I’m in serious medical distress, I somehow managed to score a date out of it. Silver linings, right?

Thanks to everyone who gave me advice! I may not have mastered the wink, but I think things worked out anyway 😂

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u/SmoothOperator · 7h

Dude, this is the best possible outcome from this situation. Not only did you not have a stroke, but you actually got a date from it? That’s a win. Don’t even bother learning how to wink anymore — you’ve already peaked.

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u/awkwardpenguin · 7h

I AM DYING. This is hilarious. Honestly, I think this proves that failing spectacularly can sometimes be the most charming thing in the world. Good luck on the date, and please don’t try winking at her during dinner 😅

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u/theeyeguy · 6h

LMAO. As someone who’s been mistaken for having a stroke because of stress-related eye twitching, I feel this deeply. But I’ve never gotten a date out of it. Well played, my man. Well played.

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u/Pizza4Breakfast · 5h

This might be the best “I tried to wink and failed” story I’ve ever heard. Seriously though, props to her for actually coming up and saying something. It could’ve been worse — imagine if she just stared, unsure if you were in the middle of a medical emergency.

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u/TheRealMaverick · 5h

The wink failed, but your awkward charm succeeded! Honestly, I think you should lean into this. Go to the date, don’t even bother trying to wink, and just tell her the story again. If she was into it the first time, she’s probably going to love it even more when it’s an inside joke between you two.

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u/CouchPotatoSupreme · 4h

Okay, but can we just take a moment to appreciate that she approached you because she was genuinely concerned? That’s the kind of girl you want in your corner. Also, now you have the perfect “how we met” story. Future wedding speech material, just saying 😉

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u/DrCoffeeAddict · 3h

I have secondhand embarrassment but also secondhand joy for you. Sometimes life is better than any awkward wink could ever be. Good luck on the date, and hey, maybe you don’t even need to master winking anymore if you’ve already won her over.

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u/WinkFailSurvivor · 2h

This whole thing is perfect. I, too, have struggled with the dreaded “failed wink,” but I never thought it would lead to a date. I think you’re onto something here … maybe awkward winking is the new dating strategy?

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u/ActuallySocrates · 2h

Wait … so, your face-twitching efforts actually led to a potential relationship? This might be the greatest accidental rom-com moment ever. Well done. Keep us updated on how the date goes, but for the love of all that is good, don’t wink at her again unless you’ve somehow mastered it in the meantime.

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u/MedStudentCrush · 1h

As a fellow med student, I know she was probably embarrassed too after realizing you weren’t having a medical crisis. But the fact that she still gave you her number means your sense of humor (or tragic winking) really worked. You’re NAILING it, man.

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***

r/WouldIBeTheAsshole

u/UnmedicatedStudent · 7h

[UPDATE] WIBTA for telling a stranger I thought he was having a stroke because of an eye twitch? Well, now we’re going on a date.

Hey everyone! So, a few days ago I made a post asking if I would be the AH for telling a guy I thought he was having a stroke because I saw his eye twitching for like half an hour at a cafe. I’m a med student and my brain just could not ignore it. I was really worried that I might embarrass him or make things awkward if it turned out to be nothing.

Well … update time.

I actually went up to him and casually asked if he was feeling okay because I noticed the twitching. Turns out, he wasn’t having a stroke (thank god), but what he was doing was practicing winking. I’ll let that sink in. He was practicing winking at his reflection. In a cafe. For half an hour 😂

We both started laughing, and honestly, I was super relieved it wasn’t a medical emergency because I was prepared to call an ambulance or something. He explained that he’d been trying to learn how to wink for a while but couldn’t get it down, and I guess I just caught him mid-“training session.”

Here’s the fun part: after we laughed it off, we ended up chatting for a while. He’s actually really sweet and has this kind of goofy charm. I gave him my number, and now we have a date lined up for this weekend 😳

So, not only did I not make him panic about his health, but I also apparently picked the right guy to (wrongly) diagnose. I’ll keep you all posted if it leads to anything, but for now, we’re both just laughing about the most awkward way to meet someone.

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u/DrCoffeeAddict · 7h

I AM DEAD 😂 You’re telling me you went over to check on a potential medical emergency, and it turned into a rom-com meet-cute? This is the best outcome possible. Can’t wait to hear how the date goes!

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u/SmoothOperator · 6h

As the guy who gave him advice on winking in his original post, I just want to say: I feel partly responsible for this love story. I’m so glad his tragic winking attempts paid off in the end, even if it wasn’t in the way he intended.

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u/awkwardpenguin · 6h

THIS IS AMAZING. I read both your posts and now I feel like I’m watching the awkward wink romance saga unfold in real-time. You’re officially in the running for the best “how we met” story of all time 😆 Good luck on the date, and please let us know if he tries winking at you (but maybe tell him to hold off for now, lol).

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u/LizzyBizzy · 5h

Honestly, this just proves that the best way to get a date is to pretend you’re having a medical emergency 😜 But seriously, I love how this turned out. Sounds like he’s a good sport, and you’re a hero for not freaking out. Hope the date goes well!

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u/Pizza4Breakfast · 4h

Okay, I’m following this story like a serialized drama. I just read his update about you thinking he was having a stroke, and this is all too perfect. You both sound like such good sports about the whole thing, and I’m crossing my fingers that this ends up being a great first date! I’d pay to watch this rom-com, tbh.

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u/ItsNotThatDeep · 4h

So you’re telling me this guy tried to learn how to wink, failed so hard at it that it almost got him medically evaluated, and then still managed to get a date out of it? This man is living on another level of charm 😂

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u/ActuallySocrates · 3h

If you two get married, the wedding speeches are going to be incredible. “I thought he was having a stroke, turns out he was just practicing winking.” I can’t stop laughing at how absurdly perfect this situation is. You might as well stop looking, you’ve found the one.

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u/DefinitelyNotASurgeon · 3h

This might be the greatest series of posts I’ve ever seen on Reddit. First, the guy’s terrible winking attempts, now your heroic intervention that turns into a date? I’m invested in this. Please, please update us after the date. I need closure on this modern love story.

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u/CaffeineAndAnxiety · 2h

I feel like this is a public service announcement for all med students: don’t assume every eye twitch is a stroke, sometimes the guy’s just trying to wink 😂 But seriously, this is adorable and you handled it perfectly. Hope your date goes well!

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u/NoGuyNoProblem · 1h

This is amazing. The fact that you were so ready to step in and save the day, only for it to turn into this hilarious and kind of romantic story, is just too good. I really hope he doesn’t try to wink at you during the date though — that might be a dealbreaker.

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u/ChronicFailSurvivor · 1h

OMG, I just read both your post and his, and this is now my favorite Reddit love story. Please let us know how the date goes. I kind of want to see him attempt another wink, just to see how bad it still is 😆

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***

r/formula1

u/tifositruther · 14h

Why does Charles Leclerc’s eye always twitch when he hugs his girlfriend after a podium finish?

Okay, this has been bugging me for a while, and I’m hoping someone here can explain it because I haven’t seen anyone talk about it (or I’ve just missed it).

Whenever Charles finishes in the top 3 and goes to hug his girlfriend along the barriers where the team stands, I’ve noticed that his eye does this weird twitching thing? It’s super subtle, but it’s like a half-blink or something with one eye. It’s definitely not him just being emotional or sweaty, because it happens EVERY time. At first, I thought it was just a one-off, but now I can’t unsee it.

Is it just me, or does anyone else see this too? Is it like a weird superstition or just some involuntary thing? I’m genuinely curious, and it’s getting harder to watch his post-race celebrations without focusing on his twitchy eye.

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u/FerrariBoi · 13h

Dude, I’ve noticed this too! I always thought it was just him being super emotional or tired after a race, but now that you mention it, it really is every time he goes to hug his girlfriend. Now I can’t stop wondering what’s up with it either 😅

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u/SmoothOperator55 · 12h

I’m not 100% sure, but I think it might be some kind of superstition or inside joke between him and his girlfriend? Charles is a pretty sentimental guy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if this is some sort of cute thing they do. Or maybe he’s trying to wink and it’s just … not working?

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u/FerrariFaithful · 10h

I can’t believe I’m reading this post because I thought I was the only one who noticed that! It’s like a half-wink, half-blink, and I’ve been trying to figure out if he’s doing it on purpose or if it’s just nerves. Now I’m convinced there’s some weird Leclerc tradition we’re missing out on.

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u/NeedMoreDownforce · 9h

Honestly, I bet it’s just some post-race exhaustion thing. These guys are going flat out for nearly two hours, so I wouldn’t be surprised if his muscles just spasm a little bit after all that. But if it is some superstition, I want to know more because that would be hilarious.

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u/Charles4Prez · 6h

Oh man, I totally know what you’re talking about. I’ve noticed it every time he’s on the podium and it’s always when he hugs his girlfriend! If this is just him being tired, that would make sense, but it low-key feels like it’s some sort of wink. Either way, it’s oddly charming 😂

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u/GP2EnginePlease · 5h

LMAO, I’ve seen this too! I figured he was trying to wink but failing miserably at it because his face is always red and sweaty from the race. But if this is some kind of secret “thing” between him and his girlfriend, I’m here for it. F1 drivers and their quirks, man.

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u/Turn13Messiah · 4h

If this is a wink attempt, then Charles needs to work on his technique ASAP. But honestly, it’s probably some goofy little tradition they’ve got. Maybe he does it to signal something only they know, and we’re all just sitting here clueless 😂

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u/BoxBox · 3h

I actually love that this is a thing people are noticing. The man’s got the whole F1 world watching, but he’s still trying to pull off a wink at his girlfriend like a regular guy. If it’s a superstition, I fully support it. Leclerc always seems like the type to have little rituals.

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u/ZoomingAlong · 1h

I’ve never noticed this before, but now I need to go back and rewatch some podiums to see it for myself 😂 If it’s a wink, it’s not very good, but knowing Charles, it’s probably something personal and cute between them. Wouldn’t surprise me if it’s intentional!

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u/YellowFlagged · 53m

It has to be some sort of in-joke between him and his girlfriend. F1 drivers are superstitious, and it wouldn’t be the first time we’ve seen drivers have quirky little habits. Maybe it’s his way of “winking” after a good race, but he’s just too drained to pull it off properly.

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u/MegaDRS · 46m

Guys, I just went back and watched some old races, and yep, it’s there 😂 I never noticed it before, but now I’m convinced this is an awkward wink. Charles probably thinks he’s being smooth, but we’re all seeing that twitch. I’m officially obsessed with this now.

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u/ILoveMonaco · 32m

Can someone please just ask him in an interview at this point? I need answers. If it’s some cute tradition between him and his girlfriend, I’ll be even more of a Charles fan than I already am.

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***

“Charles, did you know you’re going viral on social media?”

The question hits him in the middle of media day. Charles Leclerc blinks once, twice, and tilts his head. He’s sitting in the usual F1 press conference setup — microphones lined up, lights a little too bright, cameras flashing constantly —but this question isn’t the usual stuff about strategy or the upcoming race.

He shifts in his seat, the corners of his lips tugging into an uncertain smile. “No, I … I didn’t know that.” He furrows his brows, clearly puzzled. “Why? What did I do this time?”

The reporter grins, clearly enjoying Charles’ confusion. “It’s not something you did during the race. It’s what happens after.”

Charles’ smile falters slightly, but his curiosity grows. “After? What do you mean?”

The reporter leans forward, resting his hands on his lap. “It’s your eye. You’ve been going viral for this thing your eye does after you finish on the podium. People are calling it ‘the Charles Leclerc twitch.’”

Charles’ face drops for a split second before he laughs, the sound awkward, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, that. Yeah, I’ve seen some things about it.”

“You have?” The reporter raises an eyebrow, surprised. “People are saying it’s because you’re tired or emotional after races.”

Charles scratches his head, feeling the blush creep up his neck. “No, no … it’s not that.”

“What is it then? Do you even know you’re doing it?”

Charles is biting his lip now, looking down at the mic in front of him like it might save him. He doesn’t want to explain this, not here, not now, but the entire press room is silent, waiting for his response. He glances up and spots you standing at the back of the room, arms crossed, a small smile playing on your lips. You’ve definitely overheard the whole thing.

With a sigh, he finally says, “Okay, well … it’s not really a twitch. I’m actually, uh …” He rubs his palms on his thighs nervously. “I’m trying to wink.”

Laughter ripples through the room, but the reporter’s face lights up, not letting this go. “Wink? At who?”

Charles’ blush deepens, and he chuckles, glancing down again before meeting the reporter’s eyes. “At my girlfriend. After I finish on the podium.”

There’s a collective murmur of interest now, and Charles is laughing, embarrassed. He shifts his weight in the chair, clearly flustered.

“Wait, you’re winking at your girlfriend?” Another reporter chimes in, curious but amused. “Why after the podium?”

Charles glances back at you standing at the rear of the room. You smile at him, and he seems to relax, even though his ears are definitely burning red. He lets out another small laugh. “Okay, so this is kind of … a long story.”

The room leans in.

“It started a few months ago,” Charles begins, exhaling as if trying to gather the words. “I was sitting in a cafe, practicing how to wink-”

“Practicing?” The first reporter cuts in, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, practicing. I’ve never been good at it.” He laughs, but it’s clear he’s a little embarrassed about admitting this in front of a full room. “And while I was doing it, she-” he nods toward you, “comes up to me and asks if I’m okay. She’s a medical student, and apparently, my attempt at winking looked so bad that she thought I was having a stroke.”

The room bursts into laughter, and even Charles can’t help but crack up at the absurdity of the story. He runs a hand through his hair and looks at you again, his eyes softening. “Yeah, so she came over, all serious, genuinely concerned about me.”

You can’t help but laugh along with the reporters. You catch Charles’ eye, and he gives you a small, sheepish smile. The reporters are now fully invested, waiting for him to continue.

“So, I had to explain to her that I was just trying to figure out how to wink,” Charles continues, the redness in his face only deepening. “It was embarrassing, but we ended up talking for a while after that. And, uh … long story short, I got her number, and now we’re together.”

“That’s … actually adorable,” one of the female reporters says, and Charles chuckles again.

“But the winking thing — it became kind of our little tradition,” he explains, sitting forward slightly. “After every podium, I try to wink at her when I go to hug her at the barriers. It’s a way for me to say, like, ’we made it’ or something. It’s just this thing we’ve kept going.”

The room is silent for a moment, absorbing the story, before the questions start coming in again.

“So wait,” one of the reporters asks, his grin wide, “you’re telling me that this whole viral thing is because you’re trying to wink at your girlfriend after every race?”

Charles nods, smiling despite himself. “Yeah, but apparently I’m still really bad at it.”

“You don’t say,” someone mutters, and more laughter breaks out.

“And she knows this is a thing?” Another asks, glancing toward you.

Charles’ eyes are on you again. “Yeah, she knows. She tries not to laugh every time I do it. But, you know, we’ve kept it going. It’s like a small inside joke between us.”

The first reporter raises his hand again. “Do you think you’ll ever actually learn how to wink properly?”

Charles grins, shaking his head. “Probably not. I mean, I’ve had months to practice, and this is the best I’ve got.”

The press room breaks into chuckles, and Charles sits back, clearly more relaxed now that the story is out in the open. He takes a sip of water and glances up at the cameras.

“You got the girl,” the reporter adds with a grin.

“Yeah,” Charles agrees, looking at you with a warmth that softens his voice. “I got the girl.”

The room starts buzzing again, the other reporters already moving on to different questions about the upcoming race weekend, but Charles steals one last glance at you. You’re still smiling, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he shoots you a quick wink — or well, tries to.

And of course, his eye twitches awkwardly, but this time, he doesn’t mind.

[lovebugism]

for your smut request ☺️ eddie seeing the love marks he left on reader and getting turned on all over again remember how it got there in the first place 🫶🏻

thank u for requesting :D — the one where eddie realizes quitting smoking would be a whole lot easier than quitting you (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 0.9k)

You lie in the center of Eddie’s bed, trying hard to catch your breath, while the boy rolls off the squeaking mattress on tingling limbs. 

You hear him chuck the used condom into the bin by the nightstand as he goes. He tugs plaid boxers up lanky legs, then fishes for the pack of cigs left in his discarded jeans in one fell swoop. His movements are so practiced now they seem almost fluid. Or maybe that’s just the honeyed haze leftover in your heavy eyes.

Eddie opens the window with one hand, then brings the other up to his mouth. He plucks a cigarette from the carton with his lips and leaves the rest on the sill. A midnight breeze billows past his flushed cheeks and wild curls before finding you. It feels like silk against your buzzing, bare skin.

He cups a hand over his mouth to light the stick. The amber flame makes his face glow. Suddenly, everything smells of sex, nicotine, and midnight air.

You writhe under the thin sheets to stretch your aching limbs before mustering a small smile at the boy across the room. “Smoking after sex is so cliche,” you joke in contented slurs.

“Well, it’s your fault,” the boy insists as grey smoke billows from his rosy mouth. He flicks the filter end of the cigarette to dispel the ash in the ceramic tray, then stretches his arms over his head. It leaves his milky white torso on display for you. Your mouth waters with the urge to run your lips over each of his fading tattoos.

“Is it?” you hum.

“Mhmm,” Eddie nods wordlessly. He sticks the cig back in his mouth and mumbles through it. “If you weren’t so needy, I wouldn’t be smokin’ so much.”

A beam tugs at your lips, threatening to fill the lamplit bedroom with sunshine. You cage it between your teeth because both of you know Eddie was the so-called needy one no more than ten minutes ago –– panting in your ear as he fucked sloppily into you, and leaving his pathetic little whimpers there, too.

“Please cum,” he begged against your skin as his thrusts lost rhythm, weighed down by his own need for release. “Please cum for me. I need to feel it. Need to feel it so bad, baby. Please.”

You watch the memory replay itself in Eddie’s faraway gaze. The notion makes your chest go warm. “Well, you have my deepest sympathies, Eddie Spaghetti,” you murmur in response, soft and sarcastic.

Eddie lifts a pale shoulder in a lazy shrug. “It’s okay,” he mumbles back, cigarette bobbing on his bottom lip. “I can just bill you for all the packs I’m goin’ through.”

“Or we can just stop having sex?” you offer with a knowing lilt to your voice, rising to sit further up on the pillows. You clutch the sheets to your bare chest and look at the boy beneath your lashes. “That’s free, at least.”

Eddie nods, eyes squinted in feigned curiosity. “Hm... That’s definitely an interesting proposition,” he hums with his head angled towards the window to blow smoke out of.

“I mean, I have plenty of toys to keep me occupied––”

“And by toy, I assume you’re talking about Steve The Hair Harrington?” Eddie tries to joke, though his poorly concealed jealousy goes unentertained.

“––But I think you’ll get tired of your right hand very quickly.”

“Hey,” Eddie pouts. “You know I’m ambidextrous. I can switch it up.”

“So, it’s settled then?” you shrug. “No more sex.”

Eddie bows his head sheepishly, silently calculating a way to get him out of the hole he dug for himself. He snuffs the cigarette out in the ashtra, and his eyes flit to the opened box of condoms on his dresser, all but calling his name.

“Well… I mean… We still have eleven condoms left, so…”

You meet his brown-eyed look of expectancy with a cynical smirk. “You see eleven condoms, I see eleven minutes of my life I’m never getting back,” you quip.

Eddie stalks towards you on long legs, brows furrowed in a pitiful look. “Stop being mean to me. I’ll fall in love with you––” he whines playfully, leaning over the mattress with the intent to kiss you. His eyes fall to the blossoming bruises on your neck, and he stops short. “Jesus…”

“What?” you murmur in a mousy voice, eyes wide and glittering.

“Nothin’,” Eddie blurts as he raises his hand to run his fingers over your warm skin. He traces the blooming blood vessels over your collarbone, and his face screws with worry. “Do these hurt?” he wonders aloud.

“Do these?” you echo, motioning to the scratches on his shoulders he hasn’t bothered to notice until now. You didn’t even know you were leaving them there, in truth, as you held onto the boy for dear life while he fucked you within an inch of your own.

Eddie tucks his chin to his chest and tries to eye the scrapes from his peripheral vision. He spots four lines of raging red and puffed-up skin. They feel almost like battle scars –– an aching that he’s proud of.

“A little,” he shrugs, then smiles proudly to himself. “They feel good, though.”

“So do these,” you hum.

His heavy eyes fall to your neck again. His mouth waters at the sight of the lovebites littered there. “Want some more?” he offers lowly.

“I thought we had a deal, Eds? No more sex,” you tease as the boy leans further into kiss you. You smell nicotine and sex on his breath, and your head starts to swim.

“We never shook on it,” Eddie insists, right before kissing you hard enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

[thesweetestofdreams]

black cat confessions

poly!marauders x reader

warnings: patching up bruised knuckles very pg allusions to violence

a/n Times are tough so please enjoy a sleepy drabble with a slightly whimsical reader who will always defend her boyfriends

“Hello gorgeous, where’ve you been?” James asked as you came into the boys’ dorm. It wasn’t like you to be so late, unless of course a portrait got to talking. You could never turn down a good story, no matter how many times you heard it. 

“Detention,” you said. This garnered the attention of all three of your boyfriends. Remus set down his book, he had been trying to read instead of worrying about you, and Sirius ceased spinning his wand in his hand. James sat up from where he was laying on his bed. Oblivious to their shock you dropped your bag onto the floor.

“Detention?” James asked at the same time Sirius said “You’re joking.”

“Yeah,” you said, sounding almost as confused as they were. 

“May we ask why?” said Remus abandoning his book. 

“Well Barty said that black cats were bad luck, which is rather rude.” You fell onto Remus’s unmade bed, arms flopping on either side of you. 

“And how did that turn into detention for you?” Sirius asked as patient as could be, a trait reserved almost especially for you.

You rolled onto your stomach yawning as you rested your chin on your hand. “I told him that was hardly true but he wouldn’t give it up.” You were interrupted with another yawn. “Then he said the worst bad luck was black dogs. You could never be bad luck, Siri.”

Sirius could pretty much feel himself melting. James, as endearing as you were, was practically on the edge of his seat ready to find out what on earth their sweet girl could do to warrant detention. Remus was getting tired just looking at you and he had to fight the urge to join you where you lay.

“Well then he started talking about werewolves and of course he had nothing nice to say and he was looking right at me, so I punched him.” Just like before you were completely oblivious to the shock your statement caused. 

“You punched him?” Remus asked, and despite your tired eyes being closed you could hear the smile in his voice. The boys shared a conspiratorially prideful look. 

“He wasn’t mad. I think he thought it was funny.” 

“Sounds like he had it coming,” Sirius said, fully in agreement. 

“Professor Slughorn was mad though,” you mused.

“Merlin, what I would have given to see his face.” James laughed at just the thought. 

“I bet he went red head to toe,” Sirius added. You smiled in tired amusement. The sound of their laughs made your chest buzz, warm and full. 

“Punching people hurts,” you said looking down at your hand.

The energy of the room shifted as the amusement died down. Remus was already making his way to you, pulling your hand into his lap as he sat on the bed next to you. You didn’t fight him. He tsked at the sight of your knuckles and your fingers were dry and cracked. He turned them over in his hands ever so gently. 

“Slughorn made me wash all of the potion bottles,” you offered in explanation.

James wordlessly pulled a small first aid kit from Remus’s nightstand, while Sirius grabbed a set of pajamas they kept for you. Caring for eachother was a well practiced routine. It was an achingly good feeling to be taken care of. 

Remus spread dittany over your knuckles and any deep cracks, careful never to press too hard. James pulled off your shoes, and Sirius turned down the lights grumbling softly to himself when James reminded him of an early morning quidditch match. 

“You can sleep with me then,” Remus whispered loudly, teasing as he softly wrapped a bandage over your knuckles.

“Now this is just torturous,” Sirius groaned from his bed. James threw a pillow at him across the room. “I’m keeping this.” 

After some coaxing from Remus, you summoned enough willpower to stand and change into your pajamas. From across the room, you saw James dive into bed with Sirius who held the pillow above his head. James pinched at Sirius's waist earning a withering look from him that quickly dissolved into lazy smiling kisses. 

Finally you were lying in bed with your head on Remus’s chest. You could hear his heartbeat thump beneath you, the steady rhythm and warmth lulling you to sleep better than any lullaby. You weren’t helped by the slow circles he drew into your back. 

“Thanks for defending me, brave girl,” Remus said into your hair. 

Fighting a yawn you said, “you would have done the same for me.”

He would have done worse for you, and he would spend the rest of everyday grateful for the love he’s found.

[hyuckmov]

haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 3 of 3

wc: 11k (lol) genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff warnings: unprotected sex, making out, creampies, fingering, oral (f recieving), lowkey don't have that dog in me anymore so this is kind of vanilla, dirty talk, aftercare...? needs to be read after part 1 and 2 a/n: fucking finally. so so so sorry for the wait and also this is lowkey probably so BAD because its been a hot minute since i've written for tumblr. because this could be written/ended in so many ways, AN EPILOGUE IS COMING with a 'happy' ending, just not putting it here in this part because i think i should post this out first on it's own. i love you guys so much, thank you to every single person who's read, commented, let me know how much you liked it, and waited so patiently. i cannot express how much it means to me.

—

"whose party is this again?" 

"jaemin's friend chenle," mark says, placing his drink down on one of the tables. "think they should be around here somewhere." 

through the smoke, he can see your eyes shine. you've come even closer now, and it's as if every movement of yours is liquified, rendered in slow-motion – you flick a strand of hair out of your face and it's like he can feel the damp air on your cheeks, a slow smile spreading across your face like sunrise spilling over the horizon, that lovely curl of your lip that he's memorized. he feels his chest cave in when he hears you laugh, feel you take another step closer to him even though your eyes never meet his, even though you never look his way – every memory he has of you threatening to burst through his seams. 

your skin glows under the dizzying lights, and all he can think about is the fact that you’re so close, he could reach out his hand and touch you. but he can’t. you weren't his – and he was the one who had thrown you away.

jisung comes up to you, and haechan can see his friend's shy smile met with your beaming grin as you turn to face him. jisung is saying something to you – a hand gently placed on your shoulder as he speaks into your ear, the other gesturing vaguely towards the upstairs rooms. and then you're nodding, and haechan watches wide-eyed as he takes your hand in his and begins guiding you up the stairs. 

he can't help it – he only waits a beat, enough for you to disappear up the stairs, before he's rushing through the crowd, climbing the stairs two at a time. he rounds the corner just as he sees the flick of your skirt as you disappear into the nearest room, the door clicking shut softly. taking a moment to calm himself down – chest heaving, wringing his hands – he pads softly towards the room, placing both hands on the door, straining to hear anything that might be going on. 

low voices. the rustling of fabric. haechan's imagination spun out of control – jisung's large hands on your skin, his plush lips exploring your neck, your soft sounds, the way you might look under him. he heard a light laugh, and he pressed even closer to try to catch what was being said – what if he had you on his lap? what if you laughed because he'd kissed you behind the ear like haechan did once? it had caught you by surprise, and you'd giggled – burying your face in the crook of his neck. you were sorry. you were just sensitive. haechan had wanted to pull you into his chest and never let you go. 

he knew he was breaking his own heart – over-analyzing each muffled sound that came through, all his thoughts drifting back to memories of you. but he couldn't seem to peel himself away as the party raged on and on downstairs, didn't want to be anywhere else but near you even if you didn't know he was there. he had never felt this way with anyone else before – never needed anyone else like this, never afraid like this – and the realisation roared loud in his ears along with the feverish ghost of your fingerprints all over his skin. 

–

jisung knows haechan's going to talk to him. 

can see it in the way he hangs back after practice, fiddling with his guitar and placing it back on its stand, before picking it back up again for no real reason. there was something off, slightly, about haechan these days. not enough for jeno or mark to comment about it, to hold an intervention, but things had definitely changed – haechan never brought around girls, or showed any interest when jeno and mark would discuss them. he was quiet, and subdued during practice, absorbed in his own guitar, or else discussing new songs with mark in low voices. and strangest of all – jisung mused, slinging his own bass over his shoulder as he ambled to the door – haechan started to seem afraid of jisung. 

jisung – who had for the longest time been the most timid and shy of the group, the least experienced by far. he remembered how haechan would tease him if a girl paid him any slightest bit of attention: half-joking, but half trying to build up his friend's confidence. he remembered how he used to be wary of haechan's attention at after-show parties, because haechan would watch him like a hawk and push him into any girls he showed the vaguest interest in. he remembered his shock at haechan, who had never been mean or vindictive – a pain sometimes yes, but never truly cruel to him –, standing there obstinately in his place on stage, staring down at you in the crowd. 

to the version of haechan now, who could barely look him in the eye. 

"jisung?" 

haechan clears his throat. jisung stops in his tracks, turning back to look at haechan. 

"yeah?" 

haechan's gaze is directed at his shoes. swallowing, he takes a moment before he asks. "uh…how was…um…how've you been?" 

jisung has to stop himself from laughing out loud. "i've been good," he says, amiably. he's not going to let haechan have it easy. 

"nice…nice," haechan mumbles. "uh…seeing anybody?" 

"haechan," he keeps his tone light. "come on." he moves towards where haechan is standing awkwardly, taking a seat down on one of the stools. after a beat, haechan sits down too. 

"how did it go with y/n?" haechan sounds almost timid – like a child asking a question, but scared of knowing the answer. 

"can't you ask her yourself?" he knows he's making things difficult, but he needs haechan to work for it. needs haechan to articulate, because he knows that's the least you deserve. 

"i…i could," haechan says. "but i…i don't want to seem possessive. i already fucked up by wishing her luck on the date and i just…" he buries his face in his hands. jisung doesn't say a thing, waiting for him to finish his sentence. "i don't want to hurt her anymore…but i need to know. i need to know what to expect.…" haechan's voice is so small, like he's disappearing into himself. 

"haechan…" he starts, slowly, but haechan cuts in, hurriedly. 

"if you really love her, jisung, if you're happy together, i'll back off. i won't see her again. it'll be…it'll be too hard to see her with you but that's for me to figure out. you…you should both be happy. she deserves you, ji. you'll be good for each other." 

"what are you even saying…" jisung lets out a nervous laugh. he knows haechan tends to get dramatic – loves blowing moments out of proportion, lingering on stories that were fun to tell and relive. loves to exaggerate – always taking the smallest details too seriously and making light of things that had real consequences. but as he watches haechan – curled in on himself, he sees that this is something else entirely. this haechan was anxious and overthinking, unsure of himself, fractured into a thousand different wants and needs. 

"i'm serious, jisung." haechan, the vocalist he is, keeps his voice as steady as possible. "i'll back off if you tell me to. if i'm making it hard for you in any way…" 

"haechan, it's…it's going to be fine. it's not what you think." 

"you…you're not together now?" a hint of hopefulness. 

jisung chooses to be kind. "we're not," he says, gently. when haechan's lips part, he continues on, interrupting him. "it had nothing to do with you. we're just…not." 

"i'm sorry," haechan murmurs, finally lifting his head. "i know you wanted it to work out." he truly means it.

"i'm happy with the way things are now," jisung says it, and he means it too. "but…but you know she's going to start seeing other people, right?" 

a beat. "yeah…yeah of course." 

"you can't go after all of them and ask them if it's working out or not, you know?" jisung says, wryly. "at some point…you need to just talk to her." 

"i…" haechan break off, a pained expression flitting over his face. "i don't have anything to say. but i really want her to be happy. i just want her to be happy. but it sounds…" he catches the look on jisung's face. "i know it sounds like a guilt-trip. i know what it sounds like." 

"give her space," jisung suggests, quietly. "figure out what you're willing to give. who you can be for her."

"hyuck or haechan." he says it almost spitefully. he had never hated the difference more. 

-

you were in the crowd today. 

it had been a little over a month – 6 days more, to be exact, – since haechan had last seen you in the crowd, each time spotting your face easily, everyone else fading to nothing. each time noting every which way your eyes shimmered under the lights, the ways your pretty lips curved into a smile or a shout, or even each time you looked away, distracted. 

he'd practically rushed into the dressing room after the show ended, anxious hands tugging at his clothes, trying to fix himself up just in case you decided to come find him. questions had spun around in his mind so much during the show, he was afraid he would start singing them in place of mark's carefully written lyrics. he's thought of a thousand ways to bring it up, but he wishes he could just ask — how've you been? have you forgotten me? 

he's still lost in thought when the dressing room door opens softly, the lock turning gently in the door barely louder than a whisper. 

"haechan?" 

he turns, and you're there. you're wearing a new dress, probably the shortest one he's ever seen on you, black glittery fabric barely brushing the tops of your thighs. but he doesn't linger on your body, his eyes seeking out your own, the flush of anticipation and adrenaline in your cheeks, the way your hair falls slightly loose, framing your face. the question is on the tip of his tongue, his lips are parting, his breath catches in his throat –  

" – don't worry," you say, breathlessly, as you catch the look on his face. "no one saw me." 

oh. 

walking towards him, you pull him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck, so you can brush your lips against his cheek. pulling away, you peer at him, wondering why he's looking at you so lost. like he was wondering something since he laid eyes on you tonight.

you frown. "were you going to ask me something else?" 

his lips part, soundlessly. you've never seen him so speechless. his arms tentatively circle around your waist, fingers brushing the fabric of your dress, and understanding dawns on you. 

"yes, it's a new dress," you smile. 

he swallows, the cloudy look clearing from his eyes as he finally runs his heavy touch down your back, a feeling you've grown used to. 

his tone is slightly darker when he plays along, masking the traces of disappointment. "for me?" 

you nod, letting his hands wander to the zipper, eyes traveling to the mirror to catch the way he fiddles with it, slowly starting to drag it down your spine. 

what you don't catch, is the way he's looking at you – lip caught between his teeth, eyes focused on the side of your face, regret and sadness and a desire he still couldn't shake coursing through his body. you had come back – and maybe that was all that he should care about. 

"come home with me," he blurts out, suddenly. "i have to show you something." 

confused, you look back at him, frowning. "now?" 

he swallows. "yes. we'll still…it's just…" he stammers, confidence draining as he watches you zip your dress back up. "i mean…i just…thought you'd like my bedroom more than this dressing room. you said- you said it was uncomfortable, that last time…" he trails off. his head droops, fingers picking at his nails. 

you place your hands on his chest. his head lifts just slightly, glancing at you through his lashes. "haechan," the ache in your chest making your voice soft – barely above a whisper. "why are you so nervous today?" 

"i'm sorry," he starts, but you shake your head. "it's been awhile."

"that's fine, i'll go home with you," you say, smiling, hoping to reassure him. the words instantly relax him, and he lets out a breath. you can feel his chest move under your palms. 

"i'm sorry," he repeats, softly, but you don't know what he's saying it for. 

–

you don't know how you ended up here. 

one moment, haechan was unlocking his door, one hand fumbling with the keys as he held yours tightly in his other palm. the next, you were pushing him against the door – his plush lips, soft and tasting slightly like honeyed lip balm, finally kissing you deeply in a way you'd craved. and then he was sweeping you up into his arms, your legs locked in around his waist, his bag slumping to the floor as he focused all his attention on you. placing you on the countertop, he takes his time with your lips – his hand first cupping your face, then working its way down your neck, as if he was making sure you were wholly real through touch since his eyes were closed for the kiss. 

"hyuck?" you murmur. 

guilt pricks at your conscience when you feel him falter. you would never admit that you realized the name did something to him – made him more desperate and more tender all at once. you used it sparingly, only in certain moments, and tonight seemed just right for it, what with the way his touch was already so infused with longing. 

he hums in acknowledgement, pausing. a gentle palm tilts your face towards his, and his eyes are wide and patient. 

"what's wrong?" he asks. 

"i want to suck you off," you mumble, your words coming out rushed and careless. you almost think he might not catch it, but haechan goes still. his hands, caressing your face, stop moving.  

"what?"

your mind explodes with a million thoughts. did he not want you to? how many girls had sucked him off before you – did he think you wouldn't be good enough? was he not attracted to you enough? 

he was still just looking at you – something unreadable in his eyes. 

"do you not want me to?" you ask, doubt making your tone come off a little more insecure than you'd have liked. "is it…is it because i've never done it before?" 

he blinks. "what?" he repeats, again. 

you shift, uneasy. "you can teach me," you insist, holding onto his arms, wanting to be closer to him. "i'll practice…" 

"oh god," he whispers. "oh… oh y/n…" his hands barely skim your skin, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear. "don't," he says, quietly. 

"why?"

i don't want to hurt you," he says, voice so tender it wavers under the weight of his feelings for you. "being able to touch you is already everything to me-" he trails off, biting his lip, and then he's weak in the knees, and you melt into his embrace as he holds your body against his. "i don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with." 

"i want to please you like the girls before," you protest, weakly. "i want to…i want you to tell me your fantasies." 

"all that matters to me," he says, slowly, eyes suddenly grave and solemn. "is that i'm here with you. just you." he holds your hands up to his lips and kisses the tips of your fingers. 

you don't know what to say. the charged atmosphere from before has dissolved into the night, leaving a balmy and sweet taste on your tongue. the only thing that feels right is to hold him in your arms and hold him as close as you can. 

he's looking at you, before suddenly pulling you into him as if he could read your mind – arms wrapped protectively around your back, one hand coming up to stroke your hair as you lean into his chest. 

the memory of that first night comes back to you – the first time he rejected you. he hadn't wanted to hurt you then, either. and then he proceeded to in all ways possible – playing with your heart in a terrible back and forth. and then he disappeared from your life, and then he came back and something was different – in the way he touched you, looked for you, looked at you, was careful with you. 

but you moved on – told jaemin, told yourself you weren't waiting. you'd gone on a date with jisung, and then to some more with a few other guys on campus. you didn't hang around the band all the time now – didn't show up for every concert. and even when you did, you rarely stopped by to see haechan – spending more and more time with jisung, who was steadily becoming one of your closest friends. 

you tried to keep things light when you did visit haechan. always easy, relishing in how well he knew how to please you, how he always knew what to say. and for the most part, he was able to play along – a smile always tugging at the corner of his lips, or his tongue poking into his cheek as his eyes turned dark. 

but it was on nights like these – when the moon was a bit too bright and the air between your lips and his dense like honey, your skin heated and his face flushed – when you used the wrong name, or he said things too vulnerable and too intimate. it was on nights like these when you are faced with the reality that he made you feel the way no one else could – even as he was ever-changing, ever showing you a different side of himself. on these nights you plunge your hands deep into the kaleidoscope of him, and its like diving into shattered glass. 

–

"i wanted to show you this," he murmurs, shyly. 

he places a pair of headphones clumsily on your head, his long fingers scrambling to adjust it on your head, trying not to pull at your hair. your hands come up to help, and you shoot him a reassuring smile. 

it was even later in the night. you were both showered and dressed for bed – you in a long-sleeved shirt of his that you liked. when you came into the bedroom, he was fiddling with his laptop – and you could hear snippets of his honey-sweet voice starting and stopping as he tapped at his keyboard. it was natural, to head over to the bed and lean your head on his shoulder, as he started to explain to you what he was doing, eventually grabbing his headphones from the bedside table. his skin smells faintly of baby powder, and his bare face under the dim light is so soft – mellowed curves, the constellation of moles on his cheek ever visible, eyes tired but warm. 

he clicks play, and his voice fills your ears – clean, without any backing vocals or instruments. you try to catch the lyrics, but he mumbles through his words, voice meandering effortlessly around the melodies, drawing beautiful loops. his voice is delicate and gentle, flowing water with a current of electricity running through it, humming and buzzing with dangerous life. 

it ends all too quickly, and haechan – who was watching your face carefully the entire time, clicks on a few more tracks. you can hear his voice, muffled from under the headphones, start to explain. 

"that's…that's my draft for the melody. i made it for this, uh, it's one of mark's demos–" 

a sultry, low beat now plays, low strings filling in the gaps. when his voice leaks in, you feel your cheeks start to heat up. the same melody from before – so innocuous and sweet, maybe something even vulnerable – sounds sinful all of a sudden. you can practically hear the scream of the crowd punctuating each line, and now even the way he mumbles is hazed with a sort of suggestive glow. 

you look at him, wide-eyed. he's still watching your face, this time his lip caught between his teeth, looking up at you through his lashes. when the song ends, you tug the headphones down from your ears, and he takes them from you absentmindedly.

"mark told me to try writing for that. he said it suited my voice —" 

"it does," you respond. your hands reach out to play with his, tracing the way his fingers curved, running your touch along his calloused finger-tips. 

"but i…i don't know. i want to write something…something that feels…" he stumbles over his words, eyes lingering on the way your hands play with his, the gentleness of your touch. "that feels like this," he finishes, softly. 

"like what?" you hum, tracing loops on the back of his hand. 

but he doesn't respond. 

"do you like it?" he asks, quietly. 

you give his hand a squeeze. "sing it for me?" 

his hand trails off to the keyboard again, but you hold it steady in your palm. "no, sing it for me now. here." 

he's still. you almost think he won't do it, but then he's pushing the screen of his laptop shut, and he turns to face you. 

this time, when he sings, he gets all the words out. 

in person, his voice is hushed and soft, like every word is a secret. his eyes flutter shut, and he ducks his head shyly as he continues. when he ends, his voice trails off, and he doesn't turn to look at you, staring at his hands. you stay silent, until it's like he can't bear it, and his head turns to face you, eyes seeking reassurance. 

"i like it just like this," you tell him, softly. 

his smile blooms. 

—

"keep haechan on his toes," jaemin says, leaning back in his chair. the steam from the coffee he made – a 2am jaemin specialty — curled gently in the air, your hands nursing the mug in front of you, sipping just to have something to do. "don't see him for awhile. keep him guessing." 

"that's cruel," you mumble. 

"he's done crueler," he points out. "you know you don't owe him anything, right?"

"i know i don't," you say, slowly. "i just think that it would kill me not to know how he's doing. if he was going on dates with other people…" 

"and would he tell you?" 

no, is your automatic answer, one you can't run from in your head, but jisung cuts in. 

"he wouldn't go on a date with someone else," he shakes his head, leaning back in his chair so he could stretch out his long limbs. blinking sleep from his eyes, he shook his head again to clear his bangs away from his eyes. it had been late already when he showed up, after a show, bringing food, a tired but giddy smile on his face. "you really fucked him up, that's all i'm going to say."

"he may not go on a date, but he'd fuck someone else, probably." jaemin rolls his eyes. 

"we actually haven't fucked in awhile." the realization feels like butterflies in your chest – an uneasy, fluttery feeling. 

"what?" jisung looks at you in disbelief. "sorry," he adds, suddenly sheepish when both you and jaemin stare at him. "i just thought that was the big part of your relationship." 

"it was…" you say, slowly. ignoring how jisung said 'relationship' when it was really never that. "but…but i don't know. recently we always get distracted…or… or he's… i don't know." 

you think of his unmade bed. the careful, tender loop of his arm around your waist. you think of the way his lashes flutter when you lean in to kiss him – 

and yet, there was something bigger bothering you about this, something that tugged at your gut, the words forcing themselves out of you. 

"i hate that it feels like there's nothing more to me than this." 

"y/n, what are you talking about?" jaemin asks, his voice quiet. when you pause, he presses on, urgency in every word. "what did he say to you?" 

"nothing," you shake your head. "he didn't say that to me, it's something i feel. no matter who i'm with…even when i'm alone….i can't run from it." you take a breath. you hated admitting this, but jaemin's eyes were kind as they looked into yours. "even when we weren't talking, i was thinking about him…and tonight…jaemin i don't think anyone should be able to make me feel like this." 

“there's nothing wrong with being in love," he says, carefully. when you don't say a word, he continues on, as gentle as possible. "you know that no amount of attention he gives you will change the way you feel, right?" 

he was right. if you really dared to dream – to use up every last shooting star, count on all of the angel numbers — and haechan, donghyuck, gave himself to you fully like you wanted, you would still be afraid of losing him. a sick flutter beats in your chest at the passing thought of him slipping away again – that all this fight would have been for nothing. 

it was as if jaemin could read your mind. "there was a life before him," he reassures you. "there is so much more without him. you just need to start living like it, to really see it."

you had nodded, but you couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how many shows you skipped, no matter how many times you drove by his apartment or ignored his messages, it wouldn't change a thing: that even though there was a life before him, maybe it wasn't one that you wanted anymore.

—

you're cutting through the park on your way home from class, when you hear a shout of your name. you barely have time to turn before a small girl is launching herself at your legs, standing high on her tip-toes to throw her arms around your waist. 

"slow down!" 

you'd know that voice anywhere. 

haechan looks different. he's dressed in a striped sweater, glasses askew on his small nose. your heart skips a beat – he looks warm, and cozy, and comfortable. behind the frames, his eyes glow when he looks at you, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips. 

the two of you just stand there, looking into each other's eyes. every sense of yours is heightened –  the autumn air cold on your skin. the light catching everything around you. and your heart beating in your chest, speeding up with every moment you continue looking at him. you can't help it: even now you smile looking at his face. 

he raises his eyebrows. 

"what?" you blurt out, caught off-guard. 

he laughs lightly. "what are you doing here?" he asks, like he's explaining a question. 

"just…passing through," you say, slowly. "you?" 

"the…uh…kindergarten's right near here." haechan point vaguely at a point in the distance, you only look at it for a second before you focus back on him. you can't help it. he smiles again. "you're just passing through? can't you stay for awhile? we were going to get ice cream." 

his sister tugs at your sweater, excited at the sound of ice cream. you look down at her face – she has the same nose as her brother, the same bright smile. 

"just for a bit," you concede. haechan pumps his fist, playing up his excitement to make his sister laugh. it makes your heart go still and race all at the same time. 

—

"we need to talk." 

there was something wrong with haechan. 

the smell of rain and cigarettes hung in the alley behind the dingy venue. haechan sits on the steps with his head in his hands, jeno leaning on the wall opposite, jisung against the doorway behind. it's mark who stands directly in front of him, as he rubs his face with his hands, trying to calm down. mark who crouches down, mark's prying hands which make haechan lift his head to look at them. 

"what happened?" he asks, his eyes blazing. 

haechan swallows. "it's been a bad day," he tries, weakly. 

"it's been a bad month," jeno corrects. at haechan's glare, he raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge, and it's jisung who pipes up.

"i think people are starting to notice something's off," he says, softly. "that you play differently, sometimes."

"you mean that he messes up when she's not in the crowd," jeno says, bitterly. 

"i only messed up today," haechan mumbles. "it won't happen again." 

"what about yesterday? it's like you weren't onstage at all." jeno protests. 

haechan opens his mouth, but closes it. he knew this conversation had to happen, that things would lead to this – his fingers faltering, his mind going blank as his solo began. jeno's drums continuing relentlessly, mark's eyes on him, as he shook his head fiercely, trying to clear his mind and focus all at once. unsure of what to keep — the image of you, or the chords he'd worked so hard to get right. 

"hyuck, do you need a break?" mark asked, his words slow and gentle. "we can stop performing for awhile, cancel some of our gigs…"

"no," he breathes.  "don't." he doesn't want to lose all of it – and because he knew that if he stopped performing, he didn't know if he would ever see you again. 

and it's like jeno reads his mind. "she's not going to like you like this," jeno says, his voice impersonal. "she likes the version of you onstage, remember? it's how she first met you, it's what kept her coming back for more." 

"jeno." mark's voice is stern, but haechan looks up right past him, hurt pooling in his eyes. 

"i know," he breathes. "i know that. but i don't know if i can be that around her anymore." 

"not just around her," jisung notes. "you're not haechan anymore. it doesn't make you happy." 

"i know," he repeats, quieter this time. 

"hyuck, listen," mark sighs. "you're not doing yourself any good going onstage like this. i'm canceling the next few shows –" as haechan protests, he cuts him off with a hand on his shoulder. "no. we could all use a break." 

"mark," haechan croaks. "i can't." 

"we'll still have practice," mark says, firmly. "you still have to show up for all of it. and those songs i told you to work on —" 

"you should go home," jisung adds. "take care of your sister." 

there's a pause, as they wait for jeno to chime in. 

"none of it matters if you don't figure it out with her," he says, a tone of finality ringing in his words. he straightens, broad shoulders squared, suddenly much bigger under the lights. "if you need to get over it, you have to. staying like this is hurting everyone." 

haechan's lips part, soundlessly. there's a sharp creak, as jeno stalks back into the venue, followed by mark – who pats haechan gently on the shoulder. vaguely, haechan waits for the sound of jisung's soft steps to fade, but they only shuffle closer, until the lanky boy drops down next to him. his legs stretch out into the dingy alley, as haechan hugs his knees closer to his chest, for the first time perhaps truly afraid of what he was about to hear from his friend.

"sometimes, we meet the right person at the wrong time-" jisung's voice is quiet, almost a murmur, but the words still scrape against haechan's skin, rough like sand. 

"don't say that." he bites his lip harshly, a sudden rush of anger at the pity in jisung's responding sigh. "don't fucking say that." 

"haechan, it's okay. she liked you, but then she moved on after you realised you —" 

"she didn't –" his fist clenches, restless in his lap. "she didn't move on." 

"really? not at all?" jisung's eyes are fixed on haechan's, holding his gaze. "after weeks of telling her you couldn't give her what she wanted…you think she's still waiting for you?" 

"ji-"

"why should she wait for you?" 

haechan swallows. "she shouldn't," he mumbles. "i…i need to really let her go. jeno's right." he truly means it.

jisung hesitates. he's been spending more time with you, as friends – joining on your movie nights with jaemin, or else baking together, or letting you style him for shows and concerts. and the more time he spends with you, really gets to know you, the more he can see why you and haechan seem to need each other. your patience and gentleness matched the soft way he's seen haechan take care of his sister and at times, mark. he watched the way you sometimes falter – worry overtaking your features for a split second when you stop at a red light, or your teeth tugging at your bottom lip as you stand in front of the stove – and instinctively he can imagine haechan's confidence, his natural propensity to make everything seem easy, fitting in with you and taking care of you. 

but he knew that haechan could only give you his attention – not his heart, not until he was brave enough to admit how much you meant to him. 

your resolve to stay friends with him was as flimsy as haechan's promise to let you go. jisung almost wanted to laugh at the insistence both of you had, upon lying to yourselves. 

"be honest," he says, gently. "what do you want?" when haechan doesn't answer, jisung's low voice continues on, coaxingly. "what's your best-case scenario? what do you want to happen?" 

haechan takes a deep breath. "i don't know." 

jisung tries to hide his disappointment. "do you not know, or are you not ready to say it?" 

"i don't know," haechan mumbles again, burying his face in his hands. i don't know if i deserve it. 

the two of them sit there for a long, long, time. 

–

there was something wrong with haechan.

something's different. that's what jeno had said earlier, after the show. exhausted from sleepless nights, screaming fans making him feel nauseous, haechan barely paid attention to anything during his performances except for his own guitar. he hardly looked at the crowd, didn't acknowledge their pleas of his name, as if it wasn't one he recognised at all. 

he'd started missing parties, and was barely there even if he showed — ignoring the way girls swarmed around him, wondering if he was playing a new game, one where they had to work harder to earn his attention. it was a game they never won, his eyes trained on his cup, or else on the door. 

but out of all of haechan's bad habits, this might be the worst of them – sitting in the living room past midnight, sipping down to the last dregs of his alcohol, waiting for the knock on his door. 

it was late now — so late that the hours had bled into the next day. he hadn't seen you at the concert, not at the party, and despite telling himself not to dream, not to hope, he still carried enough desperation in him to stay up again. 

he's relieved he did. 

his hands shake as he opens the door. his hands falling to his sides as he drinks in the sight of you, letting you in. 

"hi," you breathe, and you don't ask before you lean into him, soft lips brushing his plush ones. 

he's at a loss for words, his tongue numb in his mouth, limbs still heavy from how tired he'd been all day. he lets you guide him to the couch, into the cushions. lets you straddle his hips, holding your body close to his with careful arms, as he meets your kisses gently.

something's different, but haechan's not the only one who's changed. on nights like these, all you do is take and take and take. 

"i haven't seen you in a while," he murmurs. quietly, softly, the words almost getting lost between kisses. immediately after he says the words, he slots his lips with yours firmly, as if afraid of what you would say if he let the space between you and him grow. 

"i've been busy." at the crestfallen look on his face, a small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in to brush your lips with his. "why? did you miss me?" 

"i did," he says, almost timid. "i missed you."

at this, you raise your eyebrows. "you could have had anyone else." 

but he shakes his head. "i missed you," he repeats, hands mapping your skin, as if checking if you were really here, seeking the familiar way you fit into his palms, your slopes and your edges. 

"i missed you too," you say, meaningfully, letting him pull you in for another kiss. but when you push against him, body rocking into his and mouth open and wanting, the glow in your eyes tells him you're talking about something else entirely. 

his mind races. the feeling of you against him wakes him up like nothing else, the way you touch him, your smell and your taste setting fire to all his senses. there's something sweet about your lips tonight, something he wants to savor on his tongue and drown in all at once. 

he doesn't want to waste any of this, because this was the only thing you ever wanted to see him for — and that's what he tells himself as he pulls you into his body, because finally, finally, your attention is all on him, an electric heat simmering over each fibre of his being, the feeling of your body too sweet to be true.

but it's been one too many nights he's waited, a weight on his chest and a drowsiness he can't shake overcoming him like a cloyingly sweet poison. 

"i–" he's cut off by a shuddering inhale as your lips travel down to his neck, your hips grinding against him just right. "baby, i'm sorry," he tries again, his hands now gripping onto your waist, trying to steady you, even as he gives up. "i don't think i can take care of you tonight." 

you still. 

"don't go, please," he begs. "i'm sorry, it's been…it's been a long day and i…" he breaks off. the performance. the fight with the band. the fact that he'd been drinking for hours, the starless sky inky black outside his window, his fingers still stinging from plucking at guitar strings all night. "just give me a second," he stammers, burying his face in his hands, tugging at his features, before looking up at you with tired eyes. "i'll be fine in a minute, then we'll go to the bedroom, i just —" 

your hands slide down the slope of his shoulders. 

"don't go," he repeats, hands fumbling for yours as he brings them up to his lips, like a prayer. "i can take care of you, i promise. just…" 

"donghyuck," you say, softly. again you smile, cupping his face in your palms. his round cheeks, plush lips, the slight flare of his nose. he almost goes cross-eyed staring at you, as you lean in close and kiss him again – this one different from the rest, close-lipped and chaste. 

"hyuck, let me take care of you tonight, okay?" 

caught in a riptide of his own longing, he lets go. 

"you don't have to do anything," he mumbles. his hands tentatively touch your waist, the barest brush of his fingertips, before he's encircling you in his arms, easing you into his chest. slowly, tentatively, he holds you close by the weight of his arms, a large hand reassuringly patting the space right beneath your heart – clumsy, rhythmic thumps that trailed off into a lingering warmth. "i just want to hold you here, like this." 

he can feel the tension that spreads down your spine, your breath caught in your throat. your lips are parted, your eyes looking at his in an unreadable expression. 

"do you not like it?" he asks, his voice small. his hands fall from your waist, nervously tugging his sleeves down over his palms. "i…i'm just…" 

"i do," you say, slowly. and because your faces are so close, the thought is barely crossing your mind before you press your lips against his. it's supposed to be quick, reassuring, but the look on haechan's face when you pull back makes you lean in again right away. 

it was a look that was open and hurt, his hands still tangled in his lap. his eyes stayed open as you kissed him, as if he couldn't dare believe it was real — finally blinking shut when you kissed him again, his slight relief melting on your tongue. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as you clumsily got up off the couch, and as you straightened, he ducked away from your gaze, staring at his hands. 

"hyuck," you start, but he shakes his head. 

"it's fine." he still wouldn't look at you - fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "you don't have to stay, it's late." 

"hyuck, listen to me." 

"i know," he says, quickly. the slightest trace of fear in his voice. "you don't….you don't have to remind me, i know. it's too…you said we couldn't…"

" — hyuck, i wasn't going to say that." 

his fingers falter, but he stays silent. 

"i can't fall asleep properly in your lap," you explain, slowly. "let's go to bed, okay?" 

he looks up then. "really?" 

"i said i want to take care of you," you repeat, his wide eyes making you feel shy all of a sudden. "i mean it." 

he lets you take his hands, body following pliantly as he stands from the couch, as you lead him to his bedroom, his eyes focused on your intertwined hands. it's both a familiar and unfamiliar feeling — crawling into his bed with his clothes on your body, sinking into the soft sheets and letting the senses of him wash over you. the usual buzz of pleasure isn't there, and its a different tiredness that seeps through your veins, one that comes with feeling safe. 

since when did you start feeling safe with him? 

you feel his weight sink in behind you, the duvet rustling against skin as he turns. an arm curls around your waist. his head lowers into the crook of your neck – you can feel his soft hair, his pouty lips brushing your shoulders in a light kiss. 

"the band is taking a break," he mumbles. "because of me."

"hyuck?" you try to turn in his arms, but his grip only tightens on your waist. he shakes his head. "hyuck, what happened? are you okay?" 

"m'yeah, i'm okay now." he shifts. "just…i just don't know if i like playing in the band anymore." 

there's a pause. 

"are you…are you disappointed?" the thumb drawing circles on your hip stills. "say something," he whispers. "please." 

"why would i be disappointed?" you ask, quietly. placing your hand on his, you turn, facing him as he encircles you in his arms. his eyes are half-lidded, tousled hair falling over his brows, his cheek squished against the pillow into a half-pout. it's almost instinct – the way your hand goes up to his face to brush his hair out of his face, fingers absentmindedly tracing his moles. 

you can feel his lips move against your fingers. "would you still come to see me?" he wonders, softly. "if you didn't have a reason to?" 

you bite your lip. "i would want to…" you say, slowly. "but i don't know if i should. haechan, what's going on? does music not make you happy anymore?" 

his heart aches. your care for him fills his lungs, making his eyes begin to prickle with tears. 

"i don't think the haechan…donghyuck thing is good for me." 

"oh." your thumb brushes over the bridge of his nose. "hyuck…" you start. "i don't…i don't want to overstep." 

his face falls. "sorry," he says, his voice small. "i won't bother you with it…you don't have to…"

"no, i don't mean…hey, listen to me." you wait until he looks up at you through his lashes, nervously. "i think i've gotten to know haechan and donghyuck, you know? i mean…" your heart skips a beat, suddenly shy at your own honesty. but you've already let your guard down – it's no use. "of course i like haechan. haechan's the one who invited me backstage, haechan's the one who made me go on that rooftop…but…" you take a breath. 

the sleep had worn off from haechan's eyes – he was alert as he watched you now,  hanging onto your every word. 

"i've gotten to know donghyuck too, i think. i hope. donghyuck makes the best sandwiches for his baby sister, donghyuck has a bear tattoo because he looks as cute as one, donghyuck is always gentle with me even when i ask him not to be." your thumb traces the constellation of moles he has again, tracing down to his neck. you draw him closer – the way he's looking at you: like you're his entire world, like your words were the only thing keeping him breathing, filling your chest with a tender kind of ache that didn't go away. 

"donghyuck and haechan aren't that different, not really. they're still you. i like them both. i like all of you. if you woke up tomorrow and told me you were someone else, if you were suddenly becoming someone new, i think i'd still want to fall asleep next to you anyway at the end of the day. because i know you –" you breathe in, sharply. "i…i think i do. i…hope i do." 

he doesn't say anything. just leans in, and brushes his lips with yours lightly – once, twice, and finally sealing them in a kiss. he kisses you deeply, intensely – it wakes you up, that familiar feeling stirring in your belly as your hips move of their own accord. a liquid euphoria fills your veins as he pulls you into him – him on his back, you laying on his firm chest, the toned muscles on his chest grounding you, a feeling so familiar, one that you craved for a long time. you've never felt safer, in his arms. he kisses you like with every moment apart, he wonders if you're still there, and each time he sighs into your mouth it's with relief that you're still here, with him. 

"do you want to…?" he asks softly. he's breathing heavily, but he tries to calm himself down. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and it's that act – so innocent, so nervous even though you've both done it a dozen times with each other, that makes your heart beat harder in your chest. 

"it's been awhile," you murmur. 

"i know." he nods, swallowing. "it just…it hasn't felt right. don't…don't get me wrong, i want you all the time-" he practically groans with frustration. "it's just recently i just…i've been really confused. it's so stupid, but i didn't know which version of me you wanted –" 

"just you," you assure him, softly.

"let me make it up to you then." his tone is just as soft. 

you take his hands, and slide them under your shirt. gently, he tugs it off of you, sitting up slightly to take his shirt off as well before focusing back on you. you're giddy with the feeling of his touch again, nostalgia heightening every single sensation. it's not just hyuck tracing his hands over your chest – his lips finding your nipples, tongue darting out to tease them lightly. it's every single time he's touched you before – in the backseat of his car, hands moving urgently. in your bed that first time – so careful because you were extra sensitive. you have to focus to get back to the present moment, where he's watching you carefully again – noticing that you're lost in your thoughts. 

"everything okay?" he murmurs. 

you nod. "i just missed you so much," you whisper, and you can feel his desperation in the kiss that follows. "i need you now." 

"need to prep you, baby." gently, he eases you onto the bed, crawling down your body as you tug off your shorts and panties. your legs spread, needily, as you can feel him inch closer to your core, his hands coming to hold your hips. "stay still for me?" he mumbles, his eyes dazed as he watches you nod, his own head bobbing along absentmindedly, guiding you through it as he encourages you to bend your knees, baring yourself to him. 

the first flick of his tongue on your clit makes you mewl, hands coming down to grip onto his hair. 

"i know, baby," he comforts you, drawing small circles on your thigh as he leans into suckle your clit, making your hips buck up. he holds you still, patiently continuing to circle your entrance and lap at your clit. "fuck…you're getting so wet, angel." he slides in a finger, and the intrusion makes you clench around him in sensitivity, especially as he kitten-licks your clit shyly while easing in another finger. 

"need you now," you whine, voice reaching that pitch only he seems to bring out in you. his fingers pump more urgently, now curling towards the front of your walls, as he applies more force to your clit with his tongue, massaging the sensitive bud. 

"need you-" you choke out. "need you inside." 

"just give me one right now," he says, a slight plea to his voice. "please, angel. cum for me please, –"

"wanna cum with you inside," you sniffle. that gets his attention. he crawls right up your body until you're face to face, kissing you deeply, palms coming up to hold your face, careful to keep his fingers away. it's heated – your hips rolling into his as he finally loses control, hips bucking into yours until he's practically humping you as he kisses down your neck. your hands go to his waist, and he whimpers into your skin, finally tugging down his sweatpants, and you feel a familiar weight against your core. 

"condom-" he gasps, breaking away. the muscles on his body flex as he reaches for his bedside table, you can feel them move against your hands. 

"have you been fucking anyone else?" 

he blinks. "no, not since…" he breaks off. "no. and i'm clean. mark made me check." the sound of your giggle makes him smile momentarily – a goofy, lopsided grin that makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. 

"i want to feel you-" you say, slowly. "please." 

he sucks in a breath. "this…this isn't one of those things you're trying to do to please me, right?" he looks at you, skeptically. "it doesn't make a difference to me, you know that right? i just want you to feel comfortable. and safe…" 

"i am comfortable," you assure him. "i'm on the pill. i really just want to do this with you." 

"because-" he suddenly sits back, running a nervous hand through his hair. "i'm fine with using protection, you know that. i…i love how you feel either way. i never want you to do anything you don't feel absolutely right about…"

"is this about the blowjob?" you raise your eyebrows at him, smiling when you see his eyes widen. "because i'm going to do that too, with you. i want to make you feel good." 

now it's his turn to laugh, tilting his head back. his adam's apple bobs in his throat. "you have no idea-" he murmurs, voice suddenly low and serious. "you have no idea how good you make me feel just by the way you look at me. by the way you say my name." 

"hyuck," you say, patiently. "i need you. don't make me beg." 

"i should be the one begging," he murmurs, and this time when you reach your arms out, he lowers himself right into your arms, letting you wrap your arms around him. he strokes himself a few times, eyelashes fluttering, before slowly easing into you – a soft sound escaping his lips as his eyes went unfocused. it really had been awhile – his length filling you up, stretching you out in a way that was almost painful, but that pain was quickly dulled by pleasure as his body pressed against yours. 

"fuck-" he curses, eyes screwed shut in concentration. "can i…can i please…" 

you rock your hips against him, letting him in even deeper as he bottoms out. "move-" you whimper, "please-" you barely finish your words before he's already drawing back, barely pulling out before fucking himself back in, short intense thursts feeling dizzying. his slender fingers find your clit again, applying a light pressure as the blunt tip of cock perfectly hits the spongy part of your walls, the sound obscene in the quiet room. you were so aroused, you felt that you were making a mess of his thighs – wetness making the scene seem ever more lewd, creaming around his length as he increased his speed, groaning lowly to himself. 

"cum for me, princess," he pleads, lips dipping down to mark the sensitive part of your neck. you were already close from all the teasing – and once again the familiarity of every touch and movement sends your senses into overdrive. your entire body tenses as you climax, and you can hear him hiss out another string of curses, mixed with your name and every term of endearment under the sun. 

"where do you want it?" he all but whimpers, hips still fucking into you like a reflex. 

"inside-" you mumble, ankles loosely hooking behind his back, trying to stop him from moving away. "hyuck, please come inside, fill me up please-" with a soft cry, he pushes in deep – and you can feel him cum inside you, making a mess between your thighs, the feeling so arousing that it awakens something inside you, and your hips begin to move – begging for more. 

"wait-" he pants. "give me a minute, angel-" his eyes are closed again, head lowered, as he pushes through the overstimulation, feeling his soft cock slowly begin to harden again. the sounds falling from his throat now are scratchy, hoarse whines – a sound so dirty it makes your heart beat even faster, a sense of defiled innocence you've only ever heard in his music. the angle in which he's rutting into you stimulating your clit, pushing you closer to your edge as you fuck up onto him. 

"hyuck?" you push his bangs out of his eyes, tracing your hands over his shoulders, his chest. your fingers brush past his nipples and his mouth falls open with need, an achy sound releasing from the back of his throat, his puffy lips parted obscenely. you pinch his nipples again, gently, experimentative, and you feel his body shudder as he cums again, this time going still. it's so fucking arousing, an different side to him that you've never seen, that you feel yourself climax as well, the stimulation overwhelming. 

the both of you lay there for awhile, before he seems to come to his senses — a shaky hand moving the hair out of your face. 

he looks at you, and you look at him. 

and as if he can't help himself, he kisses you again – this time so soft and gentle, almost as if it were the first time all over again. 

"you alright?" he mumbles. 

you nod. 

"let's clean up in a second," he breathes. "just…let's stay like this for awhile." 

you nod again. you don't trust your own voice. something is happening – something tastes different in the air, something in the way you're looking at each other, something in the way he's touching you now – as if you might break or bruise if he even let his fingerprints get onto your skin. in the way he's looking at you now – something urgent in his gaze. 

"are you…are you free tomorrow night?" 

"i am." you sound stronger than you feel. 

"can i take you somewhere?" 

pause. "yeah." you give him a small smile. "i'd like that."

the smile that breaks out across his face is one that you know like the back of your hand. 

–

sitting across from you now, with your plates already cleared away and all that's left is your last few sips of wine, it hits you how that this is the most normal setting you've been in with him, possibly ever. his long legs stretched out under the table over by your chair, gently placing down his wine glass as he looks at you, his expression soft. his face is lit up by candlelight, hair falling over his brows in a hopelessly endearing way. 

"you good?" he murmurs. 

you nod. things feel cozy, and comfortable – it's a feeling so foreign but at the same time so familiar, you have to keep reminding yourself that this is real. 

he bites his lip. "pretend i'm jisung," he says, impulsively. "and…and you're describing how this went to him. how…how did you find it?" 

you give him a look, but he looks so shy, so nervous to be asking you this question, that you decide to play along. 

"well, jisung-" you take a deep breath, smiling when you see him smile too. "haechan picked me up today, that was really nice-" 

"-sounds like the bare minimum," he mumbles back, head bent.

"well, yeah it kind of is. but he doesn't have the best track record." you see him wince, so you let that comment linger for awhile before continuing on. "he's been a gentleman today. he…he took me to a restaurant that he found out i've been meaning to go to for awhile now, because he asked jaemin beforehand." 

"and that's…creepy? doing too much?" 

"it was thoughtful," you mused. "even though he made the reservation for the wrong date…"

"fucker," he shakes his head. 

"...it was nice because we got to go to walk around, and there was this moment, um…" his head darts up. now you can see him break character – something piercingly vulnerable in the way his bambi-brown eyes shine. 

you swallow. "we were crossing the street…and he put his hand on my lower back, just to guide me forward, and when we got to the other side he took my hand in his and just…held it-" 

he's looking at you, slightly confused and a little nervous. 

"yeah?" 

"he…he usually only acts like that when we're alone…when there's no one around." he still looks lost, so you reach forward across the table, taking his hand in yours. as if on instinct, his hand squeezes yours. "it's sweet," you reassure him. "it was really sweet." 

he bites his lip, but nods to show that he understands.

there's silence, for a bit. you think of breaking the silence, of saying anything, when suddenly he clears his throat slightly, sitting up a little straighter.

"hey, mark-" now he's doing the same bit, and it catches you by surprise a little - making you smile. "yeah, i'm still with y/n. i...uh...i fucked up the reservation, you were right, i should've checked again..."

"i really like spending time with her," he says, slowly. "i...i can't stop staring at her - she looks so beautiful tonight. and...and i can't believe she's finally here with me, that i somehow didn't fuck this up. and um...we were in this record store just now...and i was listening to her talk about an album she liked -" a smile plays on his lips as he recalls the memory. you suddenly become aware that your heart is beating hard again, pounding in your ribs. "and she was so excited, and she kept laughing as she talked, and...and i just realised i would do anything to make her that happy, all the time. and that i want it to be me, i want to be the reason she smiles like that."

you swallow.

"haechan..."

"you don't have to say anything-" he rushes to say. "i just...i just wanted you - i mean, uh, mark - to know."

"okay." you take a deep breath. "and um, i want jisung to know that-"

"yeah?"

"i like spending time with him too," you say, faintly.

he nods, but he doesn't smile.

-

as the car pulls up to your driveway, the quiet hum of the engine is silenced – headlights turned off, only the soft glow of streetlights casting their pools of gold over haechan's face. it's so quiet, you hear the shaky breath he takes as he steadies himself. 

"i have something for you," he murmurs. you can feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans to pick something up from the backseat, the comforting smell of his perfume making your heart warm. but then you hear the crinkle of paper, his hair falling over his face as he sits back into the driver's seat, and your heart falls in a completely different way – your insides rushing with inertia, dizzy and heady – because he's holding a bouquet of dark red roses. they're wrapped sweetly, tied off with a piece of red ribbon to match the blooms, and your eyes linger on the way his fingers tremble as he holds them out to you with both hands. 

his starts to speak, but whatever he falters as he watches you stare at the soft petals, stems completely stripped of their thorns – and he bites his lower lip, breath caught in his throat. 

"too much?" he asks, softly. "i just thought…i just…mark and jisung said it would be a good idea," he stammers, lowering the bouquet as one of his hands falls to his thighs, nervously clenching his fists. "i was supposed to give them to you when i picked you up, but i got scared…you don't have to take them, i just thought…i wasn't thinking-" 

your hand closes around his hand holding the flowers. your other goes to his face, your thumb brushing his cheek as he falls silent, his eyes fixed on yours, caught in the haze of your touch. slowly, so as not to startle him, you lean in and kiss him gently. it's a beat before he kisses you back, as if he couldn't believe it, and when you pull away just slightly with a soft sound, you can see the nervousness in his eyes. and so you lean in to kiss him again – you kiss him until his lashes flutter shut, until you can feel him settle in his seat, sighing into your mouth as he kisses you deeply. you pull the flowers into your lap, his hand giving up control easily, coming up to your face to hold you in his palms. 

"hyuck." 

he pauses, leaning back – but his hands only leave your face when you hold them in your own, guiding them down to rest against the center console, your fingers intertwined. 

"i never want you to feel like i'm ashamed of being seen with you," he blurts out suddenly. 

"what?" 

"i never meant to let it get that far," he continues on, looking at his hands. "when i first met you…i wanted you to be like everyone else. i tried to do what i always do, but i just couldn't. you kept getting in my head, and i kept hurting you, and i didn't know how to stop and i just-" he exhales. "i never want to make you feel like that again." 

"hyuck, was this a date?" 

he swallows. "if you want it to be," he starts, but then he shakes his head. "the truth is, i was afraid you would say no if it was. but i really want it to be. i really really do." 

"hyuck," you take a deep breath. "whatever you're going through, you're not going to find the answer in me." 

"y/n, i love you," he says, quietly, tenderly. he says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. "i want to be a person who deserves to be with you, and love you, and i know you think you can't change me, and it isn't your responsibility to try at all…but you already have, and you can't take it back. when i'm with you i feel like i can see this version of donghyuck that i want to be all the time for the rest of my life." 

"no two people should change to be with each other –" you start, but he shakes his head. 

"we aren't a scenario," he insists. "this isn't a hypothetical. there's no should and shouldn't, because you know me –" he's pleading. "i'm not the same boy you saw onstage that first time you came to our show, and you're not that same girl on the roof," he pleads, voice breaking, tears welling up in the pretty cut of his eyes. "why is it so hard for you to believe that this version of us is meant to be together?" 

there's silence. 

"i can believe it," you start, quietly. "that's what terrifies me." 

you can see him start to lose hope. he can't force you to stay with him when you're not ready, and he doesn't want to be that person either. 

"i…" he hesitates. he wants to say so much more to you – that no one else makes him feel the way you make him feel. that he feels like he'll never love anyone again, not the way he loves you. the fact that you're it for him in a million different ways, a love he never thought he'd find. that he'll never be able to give anyone else a fair chance. 

but he can tell his love makes your shoulders heavy, makes your eyes go foggy with tears. already, you look shattered sitting in the passenger seat of his car, his love a weight on your chest that you don't know what to do with. already he's losing whatever bravery he had before – the bravery his love for you had given him. 

"sometimes-" you start, breaking off, your voice quivering. "when we're together, i feel like i could do it for the rest of my life. that you're the only one i've met to make me feel this way, that i'm the only one who knows you so deep." 

"you are," he breathes. 

"but-" your voice rises, agitated. "you hurt me. again and again. i came back when i wasn't ready, i should've given it more time, i just couldn't stay away. and then you came back into my life, and i forgave you to be with you again, and i tried to give other people a chance but i just…i just couldn't. what if this is too soon again?" 

i'll wait. the words are on the tip of his tongue, but he knows its the wrong thing to say, wrong thing to want. there's nothing romantic about waiting for someone – it's a cruel promise, one that rots each day going by in the wait for the future. 

"do you…" he takes a deep breath. "do you want to let me go?"

you nod, slowly. haechan can feel his heartbeat in his ears. 

"i'm not sorry," you whisper. "it's not right. you…i know you think you know what you want, but i need you to be sure of who you are, and who you want. i can't give you the answers." 

haechan remembers how – and it seems so far away, almost like a dream now – the night you went out with jisung, he dreamed of you. dreamed up the final version of you and him – everything good and always good, coming backstage to you, coming home to you. and some part of him had dared to hope, that despite everything, despite himself, the two of you would make it to that final version. 

but maybe the final version of you and him was this – the sound of the car door shutting as you walk up the steps to your apartment, and him crying all the way home, roses left in the front seat of the car, the ghost of your hands burning on his face.

(EPILOGUE RELEASE SOON)

@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35 @kim-seungmins-gf @delllllllsstuff @nohunlee @kingsoowolves @enhasrii @fnafgirl87 @imzerozen @toroufriteh @torothecatt

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS WITH A STYLISH READER ── .✦

a/n: so I tried to base this off of me because I like genuinely LOVE fashion and creativity (my closet is seriously so full rn but I keep buying and buying but soon I’m gonna donate some pieces I never wore/ won’t wear again when i’m like moving in 5/6 months (in April) but anyways yeahh this is requested by the wonderful @luvly_writer (I GENUINELY DONT KNOW WHY MY MENITONS ARENT WORKING TODAY!?!?

tags: (batboys x stylish reader ᥫ᭡)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick’s always had a decent sense of fashion, but after meeting you, he realized his wardrobe could use some spicing up.

“Okay, I need help,” he says, holding up his closet of endless leather jackets and dark jeans. “It’s starting to feel like I’m a character in a some main character show..” (this tiktok HELPP here)

You pull together a sleek but casual look for him, fitted trousers, a patterned button-up, and a blazer. When he sees himself in the mirror, he whistles.

“Are you sure I’m not about to walk the runway?”

He loves when you add your flair to his outfits, often saying, “This is why I’m with you.”

Eventually, Dick starts mimicking your style in small ways—accessories, boots, and bolder colors. He’ll even joke, “You’re rubbing off on me in more ways than one.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason scoffs at the idea at first. “I don’t need to be styled. My leather jacket and boots are timeless, I don’t need like bags and purses like you.”

But then he starts noticing the way you turn heads wherever you go and how people always stop you to ask where you got your hat or etc from, and he gets curious.

One day, he half-jokingly says, “Alright, fashionista. Make me look less like I just rolled out of a biker gang.”

You have so much fun dressing him in a sharp, dark button-up, fitted jeans, and Chelsea boots. When you suggest a leather trench coat instead of his usual jacket, he raises an eyebrow but ends up loving it.

“I look like a villain trying blow up something in broad daylight,” he says, smirking. “But, like, a hot one.”

Jason doesn’t fully change his wardrobe, but he starts incorporating your suggestions—better fits, fewer holes in his shirts, and maybe a sweater or two. He always claims it’s to “shut you up,” but deep down, he loves how confident it makes him feel when his s/o chooses stuff for him.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s wardrobe is functional. It’s not bad because there’s a DIFFERENCE, Timothy drake wayne dresses in suits and is high end and chic but regular tim well… tim Is tim but he DOES care about what he wears just not like that serious about it, but it’s very much “guy who spends more time in front of a computer than a mirror.”

One day, he asks, “Do you think I should update my wardrobe? You know, to look… presentable?”

You practically light up, dragging him out for a shopping spree.

He’s a little overwhelmed by how excited you are, but he secretly loves the attention.

You pick out layered outfits—hoodies with tailored jackets, clean sneakers, and pants that actually fit. When he tries them on, he’s surprised at how good he looks.

“So this is what it feels like to be stylish,” he muses.

Over time, Tim starts borrowing pieces of your style. He’ll wear scarves, experiment with glasses frames, and even tuck his shirts in occasionally. You catch him researching minimalist fashion on Pinterest once, and he sheepishly admits, “You’re a bad influence.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian has a sharp sense of style already (thanks, Talia and Bruce), but he finds himself intrigued by your unique flair.

“You have a good eye for aesthetics,” he says one day, almost shyly. “Perhaps you could lend me some… insight.”

Styling Damian is like working with a blank canvas—he’s open to trying new things as long as it doesn’t compromise his dignified image.

You help him experiment with layered textures, sleek boots, and subtle patterns. He refuses anything too colorful but surprises you by agreeing to a deep emerald green blazer.

“I look… distinguished,” he admits, staring at his reflection.

He starts taking inspiration from your wardrobe, incorporating more modern and creative touches into his outfits. Every now and then, he’ll ask, “What do you think of this?” before leaving for an event.

Damian also becomes oddly protective of your style. If someone tries to copy you, he’ll say something like, “Flattery may be the sincerest form of imitation, but it’s wasted when done poorly.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce is already a style icon, but when he starts noticing the effortless way you put together outfits, he gets curious.

“What would you do with this suit?” he asks, gesturing to one of his many black ensembles.

You tease him for being so predictable but suggest a few changes—adding a pocket square, switching up his tie, and choosing a dark navy instead of black.

When he steps out in the new look, even Alfred raises an approving eyebrow.

“Now I’ll have to think about my outfits.”

He begins to take subtle cues from your style, occasionally asking for your opinion before galas. You catch him sneaking glances at your Pinterest boards once, and he pretends it’s for “business purposes” (you had to private your pin board after because he keeps buying 10 of each of what you put on your Pinterest board.)

[foolinafable]

your wildest dream, his nightmare

Five Hargreeves x Reader Synopsis: Walking into Max’s diner as a respite after you and Five are seemingly stuck you don’t think you could’ve imagined a better outcome surrounded by various versions of your lover. At the same time, for him it’s nothing more than a bad dream he hopes will end soon. Word count: 760 Tags: Fluff, Jealous Five, Crackfic Note: This small fic because it's funny to imagine jealous Five being jealous of himself

“Come on”

Five grabbed your hand as he led you out of the tube to, probably, another timeline. It must have been a few hours the two of you had been stuck in this place going station to station still with no idea how to get back. 

You turned left but instead of being greeted with the usual blankness for Five to scribble about in his notebook you instead were somewhat blinded by the light of a sign.

‘Max’s delicatessen.’ You made eye contact with Five to the side of you before tilting your head with a nod towards the building. He simply followed your lead before quickly grabbing the door to let you in first. 

You turned back to smile in thanks when you noticed his shocked expression, head quickly turned back towards the diner at a call of your name to see the whole diner was made up of your lover. Looking back to Five, your Five, in bewilderment a shocked smile on your face.

The look on your face seemed to take him out of his stupor clearing his throat before leading you into the diner- trying to find an empty table for you to sit at. He was quickly stopped by another Five, one sat on his own, and gestured for the two of you to sit opposite him. Five begrudgingly agreed as he realised the restaurant was at max capacity. No spare table in sight.

You quickly shuffled onto the brown bench when the other Five spoke 

“It’s rare to see one of you around here” he smiled happy to see you

“Maybe this is not my typical scene” you rebutted a cheeky smile on your face that the Five opposite you seemed to enjoy, dimple now showing from smiling so wide

“Maybe” he breathed out in a laugh 

Before you could continue to speak with this version of Five another one appeared in front of you, this one not wearing a suit or vest. He quickly placed down a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich in front of your Five. He then turned to you placing a very familiar drink in front of you

“Your favourite” he declared when you looked confused  

“How did you know?” You smiled at him eyebrows furrowing as his cheeks went red

“We all know your favourites” he shrugged as if it was the most normal thing in the world

“Um- Thanks” you nodded your head in gratitude 

“Anything for the missus” he mumbled before leaving to go back to the kitchen 

You took a sip of your drink when your Five spoke irritated “What was that about?” a hand possessively stroking at your thigh 

“A lot of us having seen our version of her in a long time” the other Five spoke wistfully   

“How sad” you stated before turning around in your seat you waved and greeted the Fives around you who all became quite delighted at your attention all greeting you with a similar bravado.

“Okay.” Five declared “I think we are done here” he quickly at up pulling you up with him by grabbing hold of your hand once more 

“But we just got here, can’t we stay a little longer and rest?” you asked not wanting to leave. I mean why would you, surrounded by multiple versions of the man who loved you, say no to having his attention on you?

“No, we need to get back to my family in our timeline, come on. We are wasting time.” he rebutted practically pulling you away from the diner seemingly getting even more annoyed as the other Fives shouted goodbyes towards you.

“I didn’t realise I was so annoying, that was a nightmare” Five claimed as you sat on a train hopefully taking you back home

“Sure you weren’t jealous?” you quipped staring at him mischievously

“No” he grumbled arms crossing against his chest

“Then you won’t mind if I-” you spoke moving towards the doors to go back to the diner, quickly shutting up when Five grabbed your hands pulling you back onto the seat beside him. You simply smiled at his look of false ire towards you as the train started to move. Resting your head on his shoulder as he let a smile grace his features giving a kiss to the top of your head.

You hope that at some point you will get to return to the diner- a place you have just coined akin to heaven on earth.