#let me know if you think it's more orange or pink

[rubywillkins]

for the cafe, can i request a dark mocha and a shot of espresso with almond, oat and goat milk, then caprese skewers, a hot dog, chicken nachos and beef stroganoff with a club soda to top it off? All served by charles leclerc please <3

Sure darling ♥️

Charles Leclerc| Under Monaco's Glow

Pairing charles × female reader

Dark Mocha dating shot of espresso rough sex almond milk vaginal sex oat milk fingering goat milk Penetrative sex caprese skewers Breeding kink hot dog size kink chicken nachos "God, you love it like this, don't you" beef stoganoff "you can take it, you've done it before" club soda pillow talk

The Monaco sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Charles stood on the balcony of his penthouse, his gaze fixed on the harbor below. Inside, Y/N wandered barefoot across the living room, her summer dress swaying gently with each step.

Charles turned, catching sight of her. A soft smile spread across his face as he leaned against the doorway. "You know, I could get used to this view," he said.

Y/N glanced up, her eyes meeting his. "The harbor? Or me?"

"You," he replied without hesitation, his voice low and warm.

Her cheeks flushed, and she let out a small laugh. "You’re shameless, Leclerc."

Charles pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to her. His fingers grazed hers before he pulled her into his arms. "I’ve missed you," he murmured, his lips brushing her temple.

Y/N tilted her head to look at him. "You’ve seen me almost every day this week."

"It’s not the same," he said, his green eyes locking onto hers. "Racing, traveling—it keeps me busy. But this—us—is what I need."

Her heart swelled, and before she could respond, he kissed her. It was slow and tender at first, but it deepened as their bodies melted into one another. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer, while her fingers tangled in his hair.

The kiss became a wordless invitation as they made their way to the bedroom, the glow of the city lights filtering through the sheer curtains. Charles’s hands found the hem of her dress, lifting it gently as they fell onto the soft sheets.

You didn't even realise when you both get naked... He was kissing you roughly... Like it's the only food he will have for the rest of his life..

Pinching and kneeding your breasts.. his mouth slowly moves towards your jaw.. your jaw to neck.. giving you sloppy kisses...

While he was kissing you... His hands were busy drawing circles on your clit...

He slowly inserted both of his fingers inside you...

Making you moan at his sudden movement...

He was thursting into you with his fingers.. you were thinking.. how good he gonna make you feel once he is inside you... Just the thought is making you more wet ...

And than you tried to touch his dick... Which was huge.. every time you see it.. you become surprised as how big it actually is...

"charles you are so big..." You said having mix feeling of excitement yet a bit hesitant...

"you can take it, you've done it before"

He said feeling proud... "I am going to fill you with my babies"... And he suddenly inserted in you.. without giving you time to adjust his size... Which caused you to moan...his name so loud.. you almost whimperd..

"God, you love it like this, don't you". He said teasing tone... Turning you more on...gosh you love it when he like that..

He was pounding into your core... While kissing you... With each stroke you were feeling so good .. his big dick really works well..

You were moaning his name while piercing his back with your nails.. which he is gonna love secretly...

Finally after some time he cum inside you... Filling your core with his warm thick liquid...

"god you look so beautiful with my cum inside you, you are gonna have my baby, now"

He said making you blush.

Later, as they lay tangled together, the sound of their breathing the only noise in the room, Charles ran his fingers along her bare shoulder.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, "sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky with you."

Y/N smiled, turning to face him. "What do you mean?"

He propped himself up on his elbow, his gaze tracing the contours of her face. "You’ve seen me at my best and my worst. Through wins, losses, and everything in between. And you’re still here."

"Of course I’m here," she said, her fingers grazing his cheek. "You’re not just Charles Leclerc, the driver. You’re Charles—the man I love."

Her words seemed to hang in the air, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I don’t say it enough, but I love you," he admitted. "More than anything."

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she pulled him closer, their foreheads touching. "You say it every time you look at me, Charles. And I love you too."

They lay there in comfortable silence, their bodies entwined and their hearts full. The city outside continued its endless hum, but for Charles and Y/N, time stood still in their little corner of the world.

[deluxewhump]

The Fundraiser

Cameron takes Zee to a fundraiser and someone from Zee’s home state recognizes him. Middle of frathouse arc timeline.

CW: bbu, previous identity

On an overcast Saturday morning in October, Cameron told Zee to shower and get dressed. He obeyed, and when he came down the stairs a grey windbreaker was thrust into his arms. He followed Cam out the door of their off-campus house and ducked into the passenger seat of his car. The door was stiff with the cold. He had to pull it firmly in order to get it to shut again. It slammed louder than he’d intended and he winced, waiting for a reprimand. None came.

“Cam?” he asked, trying to gauge his mood by his reaction to his name alone.

Cameron turned his eyes to his passenger as he turned the key and his 88’ Mustang growled to life. He was wearing khakis with a navy university hoodie and his green eyes were sleepy but not stoned. “What.”

A what with no inflection was a good response from Cameron. It was neutral, not fake-friendly but not tinged with warning, either.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh.” He actually laughed as he checked his dash’s gas gauge and rpm’s. The needle jumped and dipped as the Mustang idled in the unseasonably chilly air. “Nobody told you, huh?”

Zee shook his head. A few months ago, Cam would have let him ride in mystery or said something cryptic to make him nervous. Something like questions are above your rank, aren’t they? Or why spoil my fun, Z2?

But lately Cam had been more tolerable. Zee didn’t know if this was because he’d finally figured out what it is Cam wanted, which was not a perfect WRU product but a self aware, would-be equal demoted to the rank of subordinate— someone a little afraid of him but not too much, someone who would give him pushback if he went too far, but submit if he persisted. The other explanation was that it could be some strange change of heart after the time he’d come into Alex’s room and hung out with them. Maybe he just got sick of the performative bullying he’d spent so much of his hard earned money on for laughs, and was moving on. Either way, Zee was just glad moving on looked like more eye contact and conversation between them, and not being locked in a room somewhere forgotten, or abandoned to the brothers he considered even worse.

“Chapter fundraiser,” Cam answered mildly as he reversed out of the overcrowded driveway and onto the street. Zee could smell the car’s exhaust, and something like drifting smoke from a backyard brushfire in the dry air.

“A color run. You know, like a 5k but they dump a bunch of colored powder on everyone as they run? I’m manning a photo-slash-donation booth at the finish line today.” He pulled into a Dunkin Donuts half a mile from their street, on a divided highway dotted with office parks and medical buildings, ENT’s and orthopedic clinics with meticulously maintained black mulch landscaping.

The Dunkin had cream siding and tan trim, like it was trying to blend in with a more sophisticated neighborhood than its bright pink and orange colors warranted. Cam parked out front and absently told him “sit.” A few minutes later he returned with two cardboard gallon-boxes in each hand.

“Coffee and hot chocolate,” he said, setting one by Zee’s feet and the other in Zee’s lap. The warmth of its sides felt delicious on his hands. The Mustang’s heat was touch and go. “How anyone goes straight from a 5k to hot chocolate is beyond me, but I do what I’m told.”

Zee didn’t think it would be that hard, for people used to running in all sorts of weather. He’d seen Dominic mainline back to back tuna melts not ten minutes after a practice that had him as soaked in sweat as if he’d been swimming. Cameron was discerning and catlike in comparison— economical with his movements, apt to go a full day without eating and not even notice.

The thought of food made him hungry, but he was with Cam today, which meant he was on a Cam schedule. If Cam happened to eat, he might be offered food. More than likely though, Cam would have nicotine for lunch and not eat until much later when he was high. He put the thought from his mind.

The event site was already packed with people. Zee carried the gallon containers like dumbbells while Cameron got a backpack out of the trunk and led the way to the finish line. Their booth was already assembled. Anthony Shorey, always in shorts even if there was snow on the ground, was there with his hands crossed over his chest and tucked under his armpits for warmth, talking to a couple of girls wearing white hoodies and pastel leggings.

One of the girls saw Cameron and did what was meant to be a cutesy whine of his name, dragging out the N at the end. She saw Zee and her eyes slid to the boxes he carried. “Ohh, what’d you bring?” she asked, ignoring Zee entirely.

“Coffee and cocoa,” Cam answered, lifting his arm as she tucked herself under him into a hug. “Help yourself.”

There were two races scheduled, he learned. One started at eleven and the second at one. Sunlight was breaking weakly through the clouds as Cam set up their gear— a scannable QR code he taped to the table, a card reader, a cash tip jar with their Greek letters taped to the front of it. A cardboard box that had been left under the booth contained color run event lanyards and t shirts, which he set up tabletop in neat rows.

Zee set up the drinks on his end of the table, closest to the photo booth. He sat back in one of the plastic chairs and startled like an idiot when something touched his legs. It was a blanket, and Cam was holding the other end of it. A quick scan of his surroundings told him neither Tony Shorey nor the girls in running clothes from the next booth had noticed his flinch, but Cam had. He gave Zee a centimeter’s tilt of the head that Zee had begun to understand was an olive branch, a momentary reassurance of truce. Zee tucked the blanket around his legs and torso. “Thanks,” he said softly.

The first run brought waves of color-spattered participants past their booth, with many stopping in to take post-race photos together with their magenta, indigo and canary-yellow faces, hair, and clothes. Cam chatted and sold t-shirts. Zee spent most of his energy on just trying to look normal, glad he wasn’t covered in colored powder and made to run with his ankles tied closely together or something equally stupid. They would’ve if it was a frat backyard event. This was too big, too public. For all anyone knew he was a brother.

As the waves of completionists came through following the second race, he was more comfortable. David Shoaf brought new Dunkin containers and paper cups and replaced the nearly empty ones on the table. He took Cam’s place and Cam disappeared to a nearby booth where Zee kept glancing over his shoulder for him, uneasy being left without him in the way he used to be uneasy without Alex or Dominic. He was talking to a group of guys, two of which were covered in powder, and one girl, a ponytailed Amber Malloy who was not.

“Jamey?!”

Zee’s attention snapped back to the booth. In front of him was a twenty-one year old named Marshall Sains. His brain knew it immediately— provided the name with the face that was looking into his with a mixture of surprise and the specific delight that comes with encountering the deeply unlikely. Though Zee knew him immediately, it took a moment to place him. He rarely thought of anyone from before, except for the judge and his own mother, though he tried very hard to block those thoughts, banish them to his subconscious. There was discomfort in his life that he could control and discomfort that he couldn’t. Thoughts of before— of who he really was, belonged to the former category.

Marshall Sains belonged to before, he realized slowly. Not a brother, or a friend of theirs, or a guy someone knew who came around sometimes. Not a teammate of Dominic’s he recognized or one of Alex’s siblings. Marshall Sains was his friend in highschool. They had biology together, and B lunch. He drove a Toyota Camry, and his star athlete older brother had died in a car accident in 2010. People still stopped him and offered condolences when he was a junior in 2014, Zee had witnessed it more than once.

“N-no,” he muttered weakly. Absurdly. Adrenaline flooded his gut like a writhing pile of snakes. A group came out of the photo booth covered head to toe in garish colors like warpaint. Marshall Sains studied him, his smile freezing and dying on his familiar face, a few years older now but not much changed.

He was looking at him like he couldn’t believe it, like he was looking for something that might indicate he’d made a mistake— a cluster of freckles or the bridge of a nose that was not quite right. Zee knew he wouldn’t find it. He was right, of course, he was two feet away from his friend Jamey who’d disappeared from the face of the earth with nothing but rumors of where he’d gone and why.

He’d rather they all thought he was in prison. Or dead, really. Less humiliating that way.

In his peripheral vision he saw Cameron break away from the group he’d been talking to and come slowly back over to the booth, hands in the front pocket of his university hoodie, not inserting himself in the situation but hanging casually back as if to survey the runners as they completed their race. But Zee knew he was listening.

“Jamey. Oh my God. Dude. It’s Marshall Sains?” he laughed uncomfortably, like he was waiting for Zee to admit he was just messing with him and stand up to hug him and clap him on the back. “How the fuck are ya?”

“I’m sorry man,” Zee managed in his most offhanded, who-is-this-weirdo voice. “I guess I have a twin. But I don’t know a Jamey and I don’t know you.”

Marshall grew flustered then. The group that had come out of the photo booth were trying to pour themselves cups of coffee and he was in the way. Anthony Shorey was watching the exchange now with faintly raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Marshall said. “I could swear…” he looked into Zee’s face one more time, reluctant to accept that his own eyes would lie to him so boldly. Zee stared back, fully committed to his story now that the initial shock and panic of seeing someone from before had subsided. His ears still rang like someone had boxed them from the word Jamey tossed out in proximity to Cameron Byrne and Anthony Shorey and all these people who belonged firmly to after.

“You gonna buy a shirt or something?” Zee asked with a little more sting behind it than he would have liked. Marshall was a good guy. But it did the trick. He gave an awkward hands-up gesture and backed off. Zee watched his friend’s back disappear into the colorful crowd.

Cam offered to take back his post behind the card reader and Anthony gladly gave it up. Cam said nothing at first, blowing warm air into his big-knuckled hands and rubbing them together near his lips. Finally he turned to Zee, which spiked his adrenaline all over again and made his teeth clench in his skull.

“He was right, wasn’t he?”

Lying to Marshall Sains and the rest of the world was one thing. Lying to Cameron was pointless, and it would only irritate him. Zee nodded.

“Who is he?”

“A guy I knew in highschool.”

“Where was highschool?”

Zee swallowed. They’d never talked about any of it, and he didn’t want to get into it here, in the middle of a crowd of people. Cam didn’t like when he acted too much like a mindless boxie, but he didn’t think he’d like him talking about his life before either.

“Kentucky,” he answered flatly.

Cameron scanned the crowd absently. “Mm.”

Zee stared at the fine print on the back of one of the Dunkin boxes, too small to read from where he sat and therefore too small to set off the needling discomfort that reading larger font brought onto his vision like a migraine.

Cam’s hand was chilly but not unpleasant on the back of his neck. It was a gentle weight, and he squeezed lightly with only the pads of his fingers. Zee turned in surprise, wondering what he would find in Cam’s eyes. They met his intently.

“I can call someone to come pick you up,” he said. “Alex is around I think.”

“No,” Zee shook his head. “I’m good.”

Cam gave him a questioning look, and now the pads of his fingers were almost petting the back of his neck, a touch that could be controlling or casual— certainly common among fraternity brothers to clasp each other by the back of the neck like it was a scruff— and turning it into something intimate. His skin tingled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink something.” He nodded towards the boxes. “Either one, just get a drink.”

Zee reached for a paper cup and fumbled with the lever of the coffee box til steaming black liquid poured out. He hadn’t run the 5k at all but he felt like he’d sprinted it— his legs were shaky and his mouth was thick with saliva. He thought sweet cocoa might make him feel sick, and hoped caffeine would snap him out of his daze.

“Atta boy,” Cameron said under his breath, sliding the hand away from his neck. It wasn’t as condescending as it ought to be, or fake, or even really meant to be heard. It sounded something like simple camaraderie, even bordering on affection.

He sipped black coffee and felt the cold air on his neck where Cameron’s hand had been.

[larkral]

Happy WIPsday! I have been wanting to post for approximately 2 weeks, but it's been chaosville at my house, so I haven't done it. I'm not seeing any tags, so I'm going to start us off this week!

So.... in the past two weeks I've written almost 2,000 words on Simon's Two Mums AU and about 4k words on Firstprince Soulmate BS. This is a lot for me! I'm excited about both of them! Soulmate BS is marinating after having had a very important scene written, so finally (already, always) got some overdue attention, and I'm really enjoying where it's going.

Simon's two mums:

Then, mum says, "Is it standard practice to cast spells on students without their agreement or parental assent?"  "I'm sorry?" [omitted for spoilers] says.  "Mum," I hiss at her.  "I'm sorry, Simon, but I'd be very curious to know if this is a common experience for students here, or if it's something that's happening particularly often to my son." Her voice is hard and angry. Her lawyer voice, the one that knows she's going to win, and doesn't mind letting you know as well.  "It's…" [spoiler again] sits back down. "It is, actually, quite common, but it is also very likely that it's happening particularly often with Simon."  Mum seems surprised at how easily he goes along with her. "I'd appreciate if you would draft a policy document that provides students and their parents with more explicit knowledge of circumstances in which they may be subject to magical correction or intervention."  "Of course, yes," [this person's name would spoil you] says. "Absolutely." He moves to stand again, and then sits back down. "Is there anything else before Simon returns to class?"  "No," Mum says. "Unless you have anything you'd like to talk about, Simon?" Mummy asks, and I could cry. I almost do.

Soulmate BS and tags below the cut because I know what y'all here for.

BRILLIANT SHIT I say. Welcome to some soulmate lore knowledge.

"Mmm, yeah," Henry says, then with a little more clarity. "Sorry, what are we having a hard time believing? It's been quite the night in that regard."  [quip removed for spoilers] Alex says. Henry hardly gets in his demure Indeed before Alex says, "I don't think it's that hard to believe that I'm a better dancer than you.” "No," Henry says, and then he presses his thumb into his phone and turns the screen towards Alex.  You're Linked! the Heartlink banner reads, overlaying an illustration of red, pink and brown confetti. "Oh, shit." Alex says.  Congratulations! Your bandmatch was calculated at a 97.82% level of synchronization. That's well above the threshold at which we recommend a parallel re-sync. Your concierge, Alana, will be in touch within 24 hours to facilitate contact with your soulmate.  "Quite," Henry says. Alex can feel his heartbeat in his stomach, suddenly. It's a little bit nauseating, like he might throw up.

Thanks to @talentpiper11 for the name inspiration for the soulmate matching app. Which obviously every soulmate universe must have.

Tags and hugs to all my fandom friends. I hope you're making it through this week, lovelies.

@stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission @cutestkilla

@hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy

@captain-aralias @petedavidsonscock @artsyunderstudy @martsonmars @nausikaaa

@chen-chen-chen-again-chen @that-disabled-princess @shrekgogurt  @palimpsessed @fatalfangirl

@blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles

@talentpiper11 @orange-peony @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @mooncello

@aristocratic-otter @roomwithanopenfire @monbons @kiwiana-writes

[ducks-and-other-birds-enjoyer]

apparently it's fountain pen day, so here's a doodle of a listless duckula i did with my jinhao shark pen (picture below cut)

all my pens have names, this one is yoshika!

[keeps-ache]

i have my glasses now!! here are some things:

saw my mother clearly and almost cried

saw the parking lot and the sky and a tree and forgot to breath for a second

was so enamored with the Sky i tripped over a curb

the stars. oh my god the stars

[domjaehyun]

the need to know (l.dh) — part two

PAIRING. sneaky link!fwb!haechan x fem!reader  GENRE. smut, fluff, mild angst, some humor CONTENTS. mentions of marijuana, explicit smut (unprotected sex, oral (receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, dom!haechan, switch!reader, breast play, nothing too crazy in this fic dw) WORD COUNT. in total, 40.4k, 17.7k in part two SUMMARY. you and haechan have undoubtedly had tension for the majority of your friendship. what happens when you act on it? PLAYLIST. the need to know (feat. sza) - wale // notice me - sza NOTES. hello hello here’s part 2!! i hope you enjoy 💖 please consider letting me know if you liked it!! (if you didn’t…. well… too bad ig) part three (the last part) will be out in one week!! that’s wednesday, december 18!! if you don’t want to wait, the full fic is available now on my patreon!! okay enough rambling from me, hehe. happy reading!!

By the time you all arrive at the hotel, it’s well into the evening, the sky a canvas of blue with pastel streaks of purple, pink, and orange. 

“Dang, your manager hooked you up.” Mark remarks, letting out a low whistle as you all take in the sight of the modern style yet grandiose hotel architecture.

“She’s the best, actually.” you sigh happily as you head through the front doors, eyes widening as you take in the interior design of the lobby, the decor and layout somehow more impressive and expensive-looking than the outside. 

You make your way to the front desk, smiling politely at the hotel receptionist as your friends catch up to you. You give her your first and last name, and she looks through the system before handing you four small, card-sized envelopes.

“Here are your room keys! Enjoy your stay.” she says with a friendly wave, and you smile, thanking her before you make your way to the middle of the hallway near the elevators.

“How are we gonna split up the rooms?” Jeno asks curiously, and you examine the envelopes carefully before holding one up.

“Well, this is my room.” you say, wiggling the envelope in the air, and Haechan frowns.

“Says who?” 

“Says the golden star sticker on the envelope, dummy,” Renjun states, and you nod in agreement. “She’s the reason we’re here, so I’m sure they set aside a special room for her.”

“Fine,” Haechan huffs. 

“Wait a minute…” Jaemin says, stepping forward to look at your handful of room keys. “There are only four rooms.”

“Yeah?” Jiwoo says, confused. 

“That means two to a room… and there are three girls and five guys in our group… so that means—”

“A guy and a girl are gonna have to share a room,” Jihyo finishes, and you successfully fight down the urge to meet Haechan’s gaze as he sneaks a glance at you.

“Well, should we do, like, Rock, Paper, Scissors to see who has to share?” Mark suggests, and you shrug and nod.

“Well, wait, Jeno and I will room together; we’re already roommates, so that just makes sense.”

“Yeah, but I’m not rooming with Mark,” Haechan huffs. “We’re already roommates, so we’re getting sick of each other.”

“Well, I’m not rooming with Haechan!” Renjun exclaims, shaking his head vehemently. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Haechan replies. “I think.”

“Why don’t we do Rock, Paper, Scissors between Mark, Renjun, and Haechan, and first and second place get to share a room together?” Jihyo suggests, and they grumble indistinctly before reluctantly agreeing.

The first round, they all throw rock, making it a tie.

The second round, Mark throws paper, Haechan throws rock, and Renjun throws scissors, making it a tie yet again.

The third round, Mark and Haechan both throw scissors, while Renjun throws rock.

“Hell, yeah!” Renjun cheers before looking over at you sheepishly. “I’m not cheering because I don’t have to room with you; I’m cheering for the love of the game and winning.”

“Understood,” you chuckle, patting his shoulder understandingly.

Mark and Haechan throw scissors. Then they throw rock. Then they throw scissors. Then they throw paper.

“Jesus Christ, are you two mentally linked or something?” Jaemin asks exasperatedly, and Mark scowls.

“Be quiet, I need to focus.” he says dismissively, waving Jaemin off. 

Finally, the last round comes and Mark throws scissors and you’re not sure if you’re the only one who caught it, but there’s a significant delay between Mark’s hand and Haechan throwing a sign, your eyes widening almost imperceptibly in surprise as Haechan’s hand extends out flat.

“Scissors beat paper!” Mark cheers victoriously, and he and Renjun high-five.

Haechan shrugs nonchalantly at his defeat, sporting a “what can you do” kind of smile as he looks over at you. “Hey, roomie.”

You can feel Jihyo’s stare burning holes into the side of your head, and it takes everything in you to react naturally, rolling your eyes and sighing loudly.

“Okay, I guess.” you agree hesitantly, and Jihyo rubs your back sympathetically.

“We’ll see you in the morning for the festival, okay?” she says, and you nod, starting to head to your room. Haechan catches up with you easily, taking your bags from your hands and slinging one over his shoulder, holding the other in the hand not holding his own bag.

As you two walk to the elevator, you grab Haechan by the ear as soon as you’re both out of sight, shushing his yelps of alarm and pain as you pull him into the waiting elevator. You don’t release him until the doors shut on you, and when you do, he shoots you a wounded look as he rubs his ear.

“What was that for?!” he squawks, and you point at him accusingly.

“You threw that game on purpose so you’d room with me—didn’t you?”

He shrugs once more, crossing his arms smugly. “Says who?”

“I saw your hand,” you whisper loudly. “You put paper up after Mark threw scissors.”

There’s a moment in which he doesn’t speak and neither of you move, and a sly grin takes over his face as he speaks. “Do you watch my hands often?”

“Oh, shut up,” you scoff, pushing his chest.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits as the doors open and you two make your way down the hall to find your room. “Maybe I didn’t want Mark sharing a room with you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically, finally finding your room and inserting the room key. “You’re unbelievable, actually. Nothing would have happened with Mark, and there are two separate beds.”

As you step into the hotel room, you’re taken aback by the view and the modern decor, but something else makes you stop entirely in your tracks, Haechan bumping into your back before he can pass the narrow entryway to see what you’re seeing. 

“Well, I take that back.” you mumble, surprised, and Haechan splutters in horror.

“Something would have happened with Mark?!” he squawks, and you make an expression that he can’t see, face scrunched up in confusion and mild exasperation.

“What? No, Haechan.” you huff, pointing in front of you, and Haechan peers past you to see what you’re seeing.

“There’s only one bed.” he breathes, excitement creeping into his tone, and you can’t help but laugh.

“You little weirdo, why are you so okay with this?” you manage to get out through your incredulous laughter, and he smiles, setting your and his bags down before stepping closer and closer to you until you feel provoked to back up. He keeps advancing on you, smile growing as you retreat, until your legs hit the side of the bed and you plop down on your ass unexpectedly, looking up at him with confusion and a hint of panic.

“Because now,” he purrs, leaning over you so suddenly that you lean back, promptly flattening yourself on the bed as he braces himself over you with his hands on either side of your body, “I can do this,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. You squeal in surprise as he connects your lips, Haechan quickly building the intensity as he leans most of his body weight on you to keep you in place. His tongue slips into your mouth with ease, the wet, warm intruding muscle exploring your mouth like he just can’t get enough.

“Haechan,” you gasp out when he finally breaks the kiss, but your call falls on deaf ears as he kisses down your neck and lingers there, sucking and licking at various spots until he finds the one that makes you squirm. When you push at his chest, overwhelmed by the ticklish yet pleasurable sensation, he grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, pinning it up by your head.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he coos, separating from your neck long enough to hover over your face, looking you in the eyes with a small grin that you wish you didn’t find as attractive as you do. “Nervous to share a bed with me?”

“No,” you answer, probably too quickly to be convincing, and by the way Haechan’s smile grows, your suspicions are confirmed.

“Aw, baby… do I make you nervous?” he teases, and you huff, pushing at his chest with your free hand. He’s quick to restrain that one too, and you won’t lie: a thrill travels up your spine at him using his strength to overpower you. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and his eyes flash with delight.

“You’re not even gonna try to deny it?” he taunts, leaning down and nuzzling his nose against yours, urging your head up in anticipation for another kiss. “How cute.”

“You’re being mean,” you grumble, bucking your hips upwards to throw him off. He laughs and shakes his head in disagreement.

“Could never be mean to you, baby.” he murmurs, leaning back in for another kiss. “I just like playing with you.”

“Well, quit it; I wanna shower before bed.” you say with a pout, and he smiles down at you fondly, eyes dragging between your eyes and your lips. “What is that look in your eyes for?”

“You’re cute when you’re the whiny baby.” he points out, and your frown deepens, brows knitting together. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m gonna dote on you just like you dote on me.”

“I’m not a whiny baby.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why are you pouting?”

“I’m upset.” you huff, and he raises an eyebrow as if to say, “Is that so?”

“Why are you upset?” he muses, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. “Because I’m pinning you down? Because I’m kissing you?”

“Because you’re teasing me.” you correct him, and he blinks at you before a knowing smile curls his lips.

“So you’re not upset that I’m pinning you down and kissing you?” he asks rhetorically, and you blanch, realizing you’ve backed yourself into a corner. “Mm, don’t worry, baby; when you get out of that shower, I’m gonna pin you down some more and kiss you over… and over… and over again.” he purrs against your lips, stealing a sudden, passionate kiss from you before sitting up and releasing you.

Your mind is dazed from his kisses and the onslaught of attention he’s just given you, and it takes you a moment to process that you should probably get up. Your delay doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, who grins widely.

“You like my kisses that much, huh? What about your shower?” he teases, and you huff, glaring at him before pushing yourself up to a sitting position. 

“I’m going,” you mumble, standing up and grabbing your toiletries bag before you make your way into the bathroom.

You’re rinsing off in the shower when the door opens, and you freeze as Haechan enters the room. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, gripping the shower curtain carefully to conceal yourself as you peer around it at him. “Nope! Nuh-uh. No.” 

He hesitates as he unbuckles his belt, looking up at you with a frown. “Why not?” he complains, and you wet your hand before flicking water at his face. He flinches back, eyes scrunching shut as he wipes his face and glares at you petulantly.

“What makes you think you can just get in my shower?” you ask incredulously, and he grins at you, brows raised suggestively.

“Aw, come on, baby,” he coaxes, stepping closer to the shower. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he reminds you. “Plus,” he adds with a cheeky wiggle of his brows, “I’d love to see it again.”

“Yeah, I bet you would,” you mutter. “But too bad! Get out!”

He narrows his eyes at you and opens the bathroom door, slinking out in defeat as he mutters something about the world being unfair.

“You’ll live,” you call after him.

“Will I?” he calls back, but the door shuts and when you peek out again, he’s nowhere to be found, leaving you to finish your shower in peace.

When you’ve finished with your nighttime routine, you crawl into the bed beside Haechan, who looks over at you from his phone. 

“Took you long enough,” he huffs. “You were in there for ages. I got lonely.” 

“Aww, did you miss me?” you coo teasingly, reaching over to pinch his cheek.

“Yes,” he grouches, and you beam.

“What was that?” you ask, tilting your head and putting your free hand behind your ear.

He rolls his eyes before setting his phone down on his stomach and glowering at you. “Yes, I missed you.”

“How cute.” you hum, releasing his cheek and lying on your back, unlocking your phone.

He shuffles closer to you and rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you check your social media, making sure your follower count is relatively the same as it was the day before, and you text back your PR manager, confirming the logistics of the music festival tomorrow.

“So that lady handles all your social media scandals?” he asks curiously, and you nod.

“I mean, I’ve never had a scandal, but if I did, she’d do damage control. She mostly organizes my promotional content and gets me cool deals and PR boxes.” you explain, and he hums thoughtfully.

“What’s a PR box?” he questions.

“It’s those boxes of, like, makeup or clothing, or products various brands want me to try.” you reply patiently, and he nods slowly in understanding.

“You know, I feel like you do a lot more work than I thought.” he observes, and you scoff.

“I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.” 

“I’m serious! I feel like you work really… really hard,” he says, his voice dropping ever so slightly in pitch.

“I do,” you agree. 

“You deserve a reward.” he decides, and you nod before it hits you that, knowing Haechan, he’s probably thinking of something entirely different.

Your suspicions, once again, are confirmed as one of his hands trails up your bare leg, stopping just before your sleep shorts.

“What are you doing?” 

“What does it feel like I’m doing? I’m touching you.” he murmurs, turning his head to kiss your shoulder.

“I’m not dumb. Why are you touching me?”

“Well,” he muses, “like we just said, you work so hard… so you deserve a little treat.”

“Uh-huh,” you say skeptically. “And?”

“And…” Haechan trails off, making you look over at him. He’s looking down at the lump where his hand rests on your leg and you watch as he wets his lips slowly before looking up at you. “You look so good in your little pajamas.” 

“There it is,” you chuckle, and he joins you, fingers trailing further up your leg to slip ever so slightly under your shorts. 

“You really do look good, baby,” he purrs seductively, and you curse internally as you realize he’s bringing out the big guns. “And you smell good…”

“Okay, Haechan.” you say, patting his hand under the covers.

“Good enough to eat,” he grunts in your ear, and you squeal at the sensation, squirming away from him.

“Hey!” you yelp. “Get your hands off of me,” you huff, pushing at his fingers. “Don’t be yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.”

“But I love being yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty,” he chuckles, bringing his lips to your ear once more and holding you down as he brushes his lips against the inner parts of your ear. “It’s one of my favorite things to be.”

“One of?”

“It comes very close to being on top of you.” he answers with a grin and a flick of the tongue at your ear, and you scowl, pushing him back with a groan.

“Well, too bad,” you huff, but he persists, fingers slipping higher and higher still up your shorts until you could probably lift the covers and see his hand completely disappearing under the thin fabric, fingertips grazing your underwear-clad skin so lightly it almost tickles.

“Well, then; what do I do now?” he murmurs against the spot behind your earlobe, his words sending more ticklish vibrations down your spine, making you shudder involuntarily.

“Uh, gee, I don’t know…. stop?” you reply with a sarcastic roll of your eyes.

“What if I don’t want to?” he questions, leaning closer to you and trailing his lips from behind your ear to just a breath away from your lips. “What if I want to kiss you?”

“Too bad,” you mutter weakly, your resolve slipping due to a number of factors: his voice, the suggestive lilt to it, and the way his fingers are starting to trace slow lines up and down your slit, deliberately avoiding your clit.

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he coos, shifting his body entirely to climb on top of you. “Gimme a kiss. Just a little good night kiss.”

“You’re very persistent, you know that? Like a dog with a bone.”

“I like to call myself determined.” he replies easily, smiling as he leans in even closer to the point where you can feel his breath fanning over your lips. “Remember when I said if I want something, I get it?”

“Yeah?” you reply quietly, barely moving your mouth as you speak for fear even the slightest pucker of your lips would result in a kiss.

“What I want now,” he explains slowly, eyes trained on your lips even through his lowered eyelids, “is a kiss from the prettiest girl I know.”

You pause, thinking it over, and his smile widens as your brows furrow in frustration before your eyes roll and you sigh in defeat. Not needing to hear anything else, Haechan closes the gap, kissing your lips softly with a tenderness that takes you by surprise.

“I hate that that worked on me,” you groan against his lips, and he grins into the kiss.

“I love that it did.” he mumbles into your mouth. “Love kissing you, baby.”

“Mm, yeah?” you hum, running your hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he sighs dreamily. “Wanna kiss you everywhere,” he adds, connecting your lips again in a wet kiss that results in a soft smacking sound when you two part. 

“Everywhere?” you reply curiously, and he nods, starting to smile as his head moves lower and lower until it’s disappearing under the covers. “Where are you going?”

“Wanna kiss you here,” he mumbles against your stomach, hands lifting up the hem of your shirt to reveal your bare flesh. He does just that, kissing a path from under the bottom of your bra to the waistband of your shorts. “I really wanna kiss you here,” he growls softly, and you feel his nose and upper lip brush against your skin as he takes the waistband of your shorts in his teeth, pulling the elastic back before letting it snap against your skin.

You yelp in shock, and he laughs, kissing along where your stomach slightly stings from the contact as a wordless apology. He slips an arm under your leg, moving it to drape over his shoulder, and nuzzles his face into the seat of your underwear, another sound of surprise leaving you before it’s cut off with your moan as he groans into your concealed core.

“Pussy smells so good,” he mumbles, words dragging together as his nose nuzzles and rubs against your clothed clit. “You’re so wet, too—and you were really gonna try to convince me you didn’t want this?”

“Please shut up,” you say shakily, and he chuckles.

“Less talking, more licking?” he questions, and at your whine of frustration, he laughs, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking it through the fabric. 

“Shit—” you hiss, attempting to squirm away, but he holds onto you firmly, pulling your underwear to the side and dragging his tongue up your slit. You can feel the wet warmth of his tongue gliding along your folds as well as his hot breath as he groans against your flesh, lewd sounds of sucking, slurping, and kissing filling the room as he sloppily makes out with your core. “Oh, my God,” you whimper when he focuses his tongue on your clit, alternating between swirling it around the bud, flicking it back and forth, and massaging it with the flat of his tongue.

“Tastes so good, baby.” he rasps, a rhythmic rustling sound catching your attention and piquing your curiosity. A glance down at where Haechan lies prone on the bed under the covers grants you the sight of his body moving, hips rutting into the bed as he tongues at your core feverishly with no signs of stopping. “Could eat this sweet pussy all night.”

“Please—” you start, words cutting off in favor of a gasp as he trails two fingers down your folds from your clit to your entrance that’s currently dripping arousal.

“Please, what? You want my tongue, hm? Or my fingers?” he murmurs, lips coated with a mix of his saliva and your arousal as he sucks noisily at your clit, the two fingers prodding at your entrance easing into you ever so slightly. You hiss loudly, fingers clutching the bed sheets as his mouth ravishes your core, his fingers pushing in deeper as he flicks his tongue over your clit rapidly.

“Feels so good,” you cry out weakly, and he nods vigorously into your core, fingers starting to pump in and out of you.

“Wanna make you feel good, baby,” he moans into you, tongue lapping at your clit, your folds, and around where his fingers keep slipping into you. “So fucking wet—”

“I–I’m close,” you stammer, and he hums contentedly, fingers speeding up and curling to massage your g-spot. Your nails scratch uselessly at the comforter on the bed, part of you wanting to lift the covers and watch as Haechan devours you with an unrestrained greed and a remarkable level of glee.

“Want you to cum,” he mumbles drunkenly against your clit. “Wanna feel it—wanna taste it—cum for me, baby, cum all over my face—”

Your back arches off of the bed as your abdomen tenses almost painfully, your climax spreading through you slow but thick like molasses in your bloodstream. You feel heavy and lightheaded all at once, a series of shaky breaths and moans of Haechan’s name leaving your lips as you try to compose yourself to no avail. 

Haechan doesn’t let up, free hand clutching your thigh and pulling you down further onto his face greedily, tongue ravenously delving in and out of your folds to taste the cum leaking from your core. Your breath catches in your throat with a sharp whimper, hips bucking up to meet his mouth even as the rest of your body squirms, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you.

“Can’t—” you pant, pushing weakly at Haechan’s head over the covers. “You gotta stop—”

“‘M not done yet, baby.” he grunts, voice throaty and thick as he sucks your folds into his mouth. “Just a little bit longer—you can take it, right?”

“I—” you whine, not even sure what you were going to say once Haechan’s tongue connects with the underside of your clit. “Fuck!”

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes, gently pulling back the hood to your clit and licking at the exposed bud. You cry out loudly, and he moans in response, tongue speeding up in its actions. “Wanna cum one more time for me?”

“No—” you gasp, attempting to squirm away from him. It feels good, so unbelievably good, but you’re not sure if you can handle another climax right away without giving your poor, hypersensitive clit a break.

“I wasn’t actually asking,” he informs you, voice muffled as he presses his mouth to your entrance, his tongue joining his fingers and entering you, wet muscle flicking and licking and stroking until you’re climaxing again, your thighs closing around his head tightly as your hips buck upwards and your body trembles, muscles tensed, tight as a violin string.

This time, Haechan relents, slowly slipping his fingers and tongue from you and turns his head, kissing along your inner thighs before making his way back up to your face, where he kisses you deeply.

“Got you nice and ready,” Haechan murmurs with a smile, “so now you can take my cock.”

You don’t even have it in you to pretend to protest, instead nodding dazedly and gazing up at him expectantly with half-lidded eyes.

“Fuck, don’t give me those eyes unless you’re trying to go all night.” he warns you, and you blink slowly, trying to fix your face. Haechan pushes the covers off of his shoulders and sits up slightly, tugging his boxers down to let his erection spring free. He trails his fingers up your slit, chuckling when you jolt, and wraps the hand around his length, using your arousal as lubrication as he strokes himself, eyes on you the whole time. 

Finally, he aligns his tip with your entrance, pushing into you with a slow, fluid thrust that still manages to knock the wind out of your lungs.

“You feel that, baby?” he coos, taking your hand and pressing it to just below your stomach. As he drags his thick length in and out of you, you can feel him moving inside of you, a soft gasp of surprise leaving you at the realization. “Yeah, you’re taking me all the way in your pretty little pussy—doing such a good job—”

“Haechan,” you plead weakly, reaching for him with your free hand. He leans over you and grants your unspoken wish, molding his lips with yours and deepening the kiss immediately, sucking gently at your bottom lip. 

“Yeah, you like when I fuck you nice and deep like this, right?” he murmurs in a low voice, tongue slipping into your mouth to swirl around yours.

“Mm—yeah—” you barely manage to get out.

“Like feeling every inch of my cock deep in your little pussy, yeah?” he eggs you on, and the almost taunting edge to his words is inexplicably more arousing than you expected, your body now hopelessly hurtling towards yet another climax. “Fuck, baby, you just got so tight around me—your pretty pussy must really like me.” he remarks smugly, his unshakable confidence not helping you keep your composure.

“Wanna cum—Hae–chan, please—” you gasp, and he grins, kissing you again.

“Gonna cum too, baby, hold it for me for one second—I’m almost there—”

“Can’t hold it—”

“Yes, you can, baby, just a little more—”

“Haechan—” you moan, both a warning and an exclamation of pleasure.

“Cum, baby, let it go,” he grunts finally, and you do just that, the feeling of release so blissful it brings tears to your eyes. His thrusts slowly come to a stop as he pumps his load into you, his cum filling you practically to the brim—and then some, because a decent amount trickles out of you as he continues to lazily move his hips. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving as you wipe a stray tear as surreptitiously as possible.

“Are you crying?” he asks incredulously, brows raised in surprise. 

“Allergies,” you lie, and he shoots you a skeptical look.

“Sure, baby.” he chuckles, pulling out of you, tucking himself back into his boxers, and lying down beside you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask curiously as you spot Haechan’s arm moving to drape over your waist.

“Uh…” he stops short, caught red-handed, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“No cuddling.” you repeat the rule back to him, and he scowls at you before rolling his eyes. “Plus, we both need to shower now.”

“Wanna shower together?” he offers with a wiggle of his brows, and you chuckle.

“No.”

“Just evil, I swear.” he grouches, and you scoff in amusement.

“At least I’m not yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty.” 

“You seemed to like how yucky-disgusting-gross-nasty I am when I had my tongue all over your pussy a couple of minutes ago.” he replies smugly, and you grimace, covering your ears.

“Can’t hear you! Go shower!”

He wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls it away from your ear, replacing it with his lips as he murmurs, “You can deny it all you want, but that pretty pussy wouldn’t lie to me.”

“Shower!”

“Fine,” he sighs loudly, climbing off the bed and walking to the bathroom. “You sure you don’t wanna shower together?” he tries one more time hopefully, and you grab the nearest pillow and chuck it at him.

“Shower! Now!”

“Just cruel and wicked and evil.” Haechan grumbles, picking the pillow up from the floor and tossing it back onto the bed. “Hate that it kinda turns me on.”

“Haechan, I swear to God—”

“I’m going!”

The following morning, you’re getting ready for the festival in Jihyo’s and Jiwoo’s room, much to Haechan’s dismay.

(“I just don’t get why you can’t get ready in here with me,” he’d complained, following you around as you gathered your makeup and various clothing options.

“Because,” you reply patiently, “Jihyo and Jiwoo are gonna help me figure out my makeup and my outfit.”

“I could help you with that!” he squawks indignantly, and you sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you turn to face him, placing a hand on your hip.

“Okay, Haechan; should I go with a warm-toned cut crease or a smoky eye look?” you ask, and you can practically watch as the gears in his head spin and overheat and eventually stop, Haechan frowning deeply at you.

“Okay, fine.” he mutters in defeat.

“I’ll see you downstairs before we head over to the festival.” you promise, and he grumbles indistinctly, brows furrowed together. You step forward and press a soft kiss to the space between his brows, watching as he relaxes slightly. “That’s better,” you remark, pleased. 

“One more kiss for the road?” he asks hopefully.

“Haechan, what road?”

“It’s an expression!”

“Fine,” you relent, leaning in to kiss him sweetly. He groans in delight and winds his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. One kiss turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into you peeling yourself off of a whining, grouchy Haechan and wiggling your fingers in a goodbye, blowing him a quick kiss before slipping out the door.)

As you do your eye makeup—the girls opted for a warm-toned smoky eye look, which is exactly what your outfit needed and the exact reason why you consulted them in the first place—Jihyo calls your name, making you meet her gaze in the vanity mirror.

“So, how was your night last night?” she asks curiously, but you know her too well; she’s never asking just to ask; there’s always an ulterior motive to her every move, and so you proceed with caution.

“Eh, it was fine. You know Haechan snores?” you remark lightly, and Jiwoo snorts.

“Was it loud?”

“No, I just had to roll him onto his side and he slept like a baby.” you explain, and Jihyo scans your face, no doubt searching for anything that could give you away. You remain calm and neutral, continuing to blend out your eyeshadow, and she finally relaxes, seemingly satisfied for now.

“What did you guys do all night? Jiwoo and I watched a movie.” Jihyo questions, and you turn to look at her.

“What movie? And you’d better not say anything I haven’t seen yet.” You point a finger at her accusingly, eyes narrowed playfully, and she snickers.

“We watched Aquaman.” she answers, and you gasp loudly. “You’ve seen that!”

“You let me miss out on a chance to see Jason Momoa all wet and muscular?! Do you even love me for real?” you wail, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead dramatically. “Oh, I could faint.”

“You’re overreacting—”

“The horror!”

“Girl, you’ve seen it—”

“The betrayal!” 

“I swear to God—”

“I may never forgive you, you know.”

“Oh, hush!” she finally laughs, joining in on your and Jiwoo’s giggling. “You’re too much.”

“You love me.” you pout, turning to look at her, and her features soften into a warm, fond smile.

“I really do.”

The festival is packed with hundreds of people, various vendors set up under tents to shelter from the sun, and the stage is huge, with a catwalk going down the middle of the platform.

“Holy shit, you guys.” Jiwoo exhales in awe, looking around at the scenery. “It’s so crowded.”

“There are snacks everywhere,” you sigh dreamily. “I’m in Heaven.”

“I can’t wait to try everything,” Renjun says excitedly, and Mark nods in agreement.

“Those churros are calling my name right now.” he groans, and you all follow after an almost entranced Mark as he makes his way through the crowd to get in line for the churros. 

As you wait, you realize that you rarely have to do your job in front of your friends, and the prospect of suddenly doing so makes you nervous. “I just wanna warn you guys that I need to film content while I’m here… that’s the whole reason we got to come.” you inform your friends, who nod or agree verbally.

“If you need help filming, I got you,” Jaemin offers, and you immediately nod, handing him your phone. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” you sigh in relief, taking his wrist and pulling him over to the next snack tent that catches your eye, the both of you unaware of Haechan’s disapproving gaze following you.

“You know, you’re spending a lot of time with Jaemin,” Haechan points out, and you blink at him slowly. 

“He’s my photographer.” you explain bluntly, and he makes a disapproving face.

“I could be your photographer,” he replies in a huff, and you roll your eyes.

“Are you as good at photography?” you ask, and he nods immediately, making you roll your eyes as you decide to call him on his bluff. “Okay, take this next photo for my Instagram.”

He sets up his position as he angles the phone towards you, and you make a cute pose, holding it until Haechan gives the okay to move.

“Done?” you ask, and he nods, presenting you with the screen proudly. You look over the photo and— “Haechan?”

“Yes?”

“How do I say this…” you wonder aloud before deciding to rip the bandaid off. “Your photos aren’t as good as Jaemin’s.”

“What?!” he exclaims incredulously, and you nod sympathetically with pursed lips.

“It’s blurrier.” you point out. 

“It’s not!”

“Haechan, I’m looking dead at it. It’s blurrier.” 

“Well—fine, I can be your creative director.” he suggests, nodding proudly, and you raise your eyebrows before just shrugging in defeat and nodding. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom—don’t film with Jaemin while I’m gone.” he warns you, and you wave him off dismissively, nodding.

When he disappears, it takes a minute for Jaemin to find his way back over to you, reaching for your camera and phone only to tilt his head in confusion when you deny him.

“Haechan wants us to wait for him to come back.” you explain, and he nods slowly.

“And why do we care what Haechan wants?” 

“Aw, don’t say that! He’s our friend!” you protest, and he raises his eyebrows.

“Okay, well, I’m your friend and I wanna film now.” he says, and you blink, conflicted. A knowing smile tugs at his lips and he steps closer, speaking more intentionally as he says, “I thought so. I’m gonna ask you again: why do we care what Haechan wants?”

Lost for words, you scan the crowd for an out, your salvation coming in the form of one of your favorite songs starting to play. “Ooh, I love this song! I’m gonna go dance,” you say, and Jaemin rolls his eyes with a smile before gesturing for you to join the group of dancing bodies.

The music consumes you as you move to the beat, and you’re swaying your hips with your eyes closed when two hands land on your hips. 

“Back from the bathroom already?” you chuckle, receiving no response. Shrugging, you continue to dance, it dawning on you a moment later that this is quite the compromising position to be caught in.

You turn to your left to make sure your friends aren’t watching, only for your heart to jolt with a lurch when you see Haechan standing a foot away from you with an affronted expression.

If that’s Haechan, then who’s behind you?

You turn around with a whirl, eyes wide, and your features contort into anger when you see some absolute schmuck of a stranger standing behind you. 

“And who the hell are you?” you ask, not caring how rude you sound.

“I’m Chad.” he says, grinning too widely.

“Right… and why are you dancing on me?” you question.

“I’m a fan of your content and I saw you dancing over here and, y’know, thought I’d take the opportunity.” he explains, and you blink at him for a moment.

“Well, thank you for liking my content.” you say sincerely, and he smiles, nodding. “Did you, um, come with anyone?”

“Yeah, I lost my friends a couple minutes ago… do you mind if I hang out with you until I find them?” he requests, rubbing the back of his neck, and you pause to think before shrugging reluctantly.

“I guess you can hang out with us,” you say finally, and he beams at you, jerking his chin at Haechan in a greeting Haechan doesn’t return, your friend still eyeing the newcomer suspiciously.

“Well, I’m gonna get some snacks…” you say carefully, eager to leave the uncomfortable atmosphere.

“Let’s go,” Chad suggests, and you hold back a sigh, not looking forward to babysitting this stranger, but head to the fried dough tent regardless, deliberately giving Haechan a look that signals for him to follow you.

Of all the moments for Haechan to leave your side, of course he picks now when you actually need him. Chad follows you around like a lost puppy, poorly attempting to hit on you and even get you to leave with him at one point, and you wish you could see literally any of your friends right now, but especially Haechan.

“I love this song,” Chad says, tugging you closer as he attempts to dance with you. 

“I feel like I made it clear earlier that I don’t want to dance.” you say impatiently, and Chad frowns, the expression nowhere near as cute as when Haechan does it, pulling you closer and closer still. You’re debating smacking him, but you know that would be horrible for your image.

However, you may have spoken too soon about Haechan disappearing, as Haechan appears to your right, taking your hand and pulling you away from a confused Chad firmly. 

“Haechan,” you say breathlessly, never happier to see him. “Where are we going?”

“We need to go back to the hotel,” is his only reply as he pulls you through the mass of bodies at the festival, not caring one bit about the affronted glares and annoyed muttering under people’s breath as he pushes past them. 

“Haechan, you’re causing a disturbance,” you warn him as you two finally clear the crowd, and he stops in his tracks, whirling around to face you.

“I’ll drop my pants right now and show everyone a real disturbance when I fuck you right here.” he replies in a low, surprisingly serious voice, and you blink, stunned. “That sound good to you?”

“No,” you say quietly, surprised by the shift in his energy, and he nods curtly before turning back around and continuing to lead a much more cooperative you to, you presume, the hotel.

When you get to the hotel, Haechan has the decency to act natural, now leading you a bit more gently to the elevator. Once the doors open, though, all decorum is out the window, Haechan tugging you in and practically flinging you against the wall.

“Jesus, Haechan—” you gasp, but your words are muffled by his lips on yours.

“You’re mine, you know?” he grunts into the kiss. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

“What?” you ask, baffled. “Haechan, I thought that was you behind me!”

“Well, it was that weirdo and he kept flirting with you—pissed me all the way off.” His lips travel south to kiss your neck, but he’s rough with you—biting you, sucking hard at spots until you whimper, and finally he licks a stripe up from your collarbone to your jaw before turning your face towards his for another searing kiss, this one a mix of teeth and tongue as he molds his lips with yours feverishly. “I don’t like that freak touching you—”

“Neither did I—”

“I should be the only one touching you.” he ignores you as if you hadn’t spoken, sucking on your bottom lip harshly before pulling back and letting it slip back into place.

He pushes his hand into your shorts, nimble fingers finding your clothed clit with ease and stroking it teasingly as you cry out in surprise and pleasure.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he coos against your lips. “Don’t want anyone waiting for the elevator to hear you.”

His words remind you once more that you are, in fact, very much in a public elevator, and you gasp in surprise, pushing at his wrist inside your shorts. 

“Haechan, what if the doors open? What if someone sees—” you moan, a hint of panic in your voice, but it fades away when he presses harder against your clit and drops his head down to suck at your neck.

“Relax, we’re almost there,” he soothes your worries with another, slightly gentler kiss before returning to his task of sucking at various spots on your neck, teeth scraping over the heated skin before he’s pulling back as the elevator slows to a stop.

The doors open on your floor and Haechan takes your hand once more, not-so-gently pulling you after him to the hotel room. He pulls the room keycard out of his pocket and slips it into the slot, the small beep and clicking sound of the door unlocking prompting him to open the door and pull you inside. 

Yanking you into another kiss, he focuses on unbuttoning your shorts and backing you towards the bed. When the backs of your legs connect with the side of the bed, he pushes you onto the bed, leaving you bouncing on the bed slightly from the impact as he drops to his knees in front of you between your legs. 

“Fucking mine,” he growls under his breath, pushing your shirt up to kiss down your neck to your chest. He tugs your bra down so your breasts are practically spilling out, his lips on your skin immediately. He sucks at the flesh of your breast, swirling his tongue around your areola before focusing in on your nipple, sucking the bud between his lips as you moan and slide your fingers into his hair.

“What happened to ‘no jealousy?’” you tease lightly, and he pulls away from your nipple with an embarrassingly loud wet pop, glowering up at you.

“Fuck that right now,” he grumbles. “You didn’t even want him. I’m just reminding you that you could do so much better than him.”

“And you’re… the ‘better’ I could be doing, right?” you reply with a growing smile, and his eyes narrow at you.

“Don’t piss me off.” he mumbles, returning his lips to your nipple and sucking, swirling his tongue around the stiffened peak. You arch your back in pleasure, pushing your chest further into his face, and he takes the intrusion eagerly, pressing his face into your breast until his cheeks are smushed by either side of your breast. 

One hand gropes at your other breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh while occasionally drawing circles around your nipple to mimic the traces he’s making with his tongue on your other nipple. His free hand moves from beside you on the bed and slips back into your pants, this time pushing past your underwear and dragging two fingers up your folds, collecting the arousal and swirling it around your clit.

“Feels good,” you sigh blissfully, fingernails lightly scratching at his scalp, and he groans so lowly it could almost pass for a purr. 

“Yeah? Think he could do a better job?” Haechan huffs, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Shut up about him,” you urge Haechan, and he sucks his teeth, pulling back from your nipple with one last flick before switching to the other one. His fingers dip into you, as if testing your readiness, and he sucks in a breath at how eagerly your core welcomes him in.

“So fucking wet for me, baby.” he teases, and you whine in anticipation, pushing your hips forward to push more of his fingers into you. “Wanna feel more, yeah?”

“More,” you pant, nodding eagerly, “please.”

“Anything for the pretty girl,” he coos, pushing his fingers in to the last knuckle and curling them, relishing your responding moan, before he starts to move them in and out.

“Fuck—feels so good—” you moan when he finds that sensitive patch along the inside of your walls that makes your breath hitch and your hips buck. 

“Pretty girl’s all mine, right?” he grunts, tongue lolling out to flick at your nipple, the wet muscle traveling over the bud repeatedly as his fingers pump in and out of you. 

“Yeah,” you whine, and he grins, leaning up to kiss you. He nips at your bottom lip playfully and you make a tiny, plaintive whimper that he coos affectionately at before your stomach starts to develop that telltale tightening feeling. “Mm—wanna cum—gonna cum—”

“Then cum, baby,” Haechan chuckles, fucking his fingers into you faster. “Who’s stopping you?”

His words send you over the edge and you free fall into an ocean of pleasure, warmth spreading through your body as you climax. Your abdomen tenses repeatedly, your walls clenching around his fingers and making him suck in a loud breath of surprise, his eyes glazing over with desire. 

He keeps moving his fingers in you until your body shudders subside, kissing at the corner of your mouth sweetly as you ride out your high. You’re prepared for him to take his fingers out of you, so it surprises you when he doesn’t, instead pressing your chest down until you’re lying on your back, his fingers gradually picking up the pace again.

“Wha—fuck, Haechan—” you swear, trying to squirm away from him. 

“Where you goin’, baby?” he chuckles, moving forward to follow you. “We’re not done here.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Spread those pretty legs for me.” he coaxes, kissing where your knees meet before trailing more, wetter kisses up your legs to right where your shorts end. He pulls his fingers out for a moment, granting you reprieve before hooking his fingers in your shorts and pulling them down off of your legs. He flings them behind himself, a soft muted thud sounding out somewhere behind him before he moves more onto the bed, lips attaching to your inner thigh to suck and lick at various patches of skin. “Gonna eat your pretty little pussy,” he grunts, pulling your underwear to the side, “and remind you there’s no one better than me.”

You refrain from telling him that you’re already quite aware of that, given that he’s made you cum every time without fail, because you don’t necessarily want to make him prove it again… and again… and again.

Your thoughts just about fly out of your head when he drags his tongue up your slit in a long, wet stripe and groans lewdly, the sound making heat rush to your face. He starts to lap at your core fervently, most certainly on some sort of mission as he massages the underside of your clit with his tongue. 

His fingers find their way back to your entrance, lips wrapping around your pulsing clit just as he slips two digits into you. You cry out at the pleasure, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he ravishes your poor sensitive core with his tongue and fingers. 

His eyes are closed at first, losing himself in the taste of you, and you can just barely see where his fingers keep disappearing into you. There are wet sounds coming from your core with every move he makes, but you don’t even have it in you to be properly embarrassed, your mind reeling with pleasure as he tends to you.

“Tastes so fucking good, baby.” he groans, making an obnoxiously loud slurping noise, and you whine, all the embarrassment you lacked before making its way to the surface of your cheeks as you flop back down, throwing an arm over your face. “No, no, no, look at me.” he urges, mouth still pressed to your core. “Want you to watch me eat your pussy.”

“Fuck,” you curse weakly, propping yourself back up to watch him. His eyes are open now, laser-focused on your face as he slurps and licks and messily makes out with your core. With every moan and reaction from you, his eyes light up with a blazing intensity and after some point, his resolve seems to snap as he surges forward, practically burying his face in between your legs and licking at your folds as his fingers rapidly piston into you. “Holy shit—gonna cum again—”

“Damn right, you’re gonna cum.” he mumbles against your clit. “Wanna taste it, baby, cum for me—cum all over my tongue—”

Your peak hits again, this one making you almost see stars when you shut your eyes, and your head drops back as a string of swears leave your lips. You get one good look at the wild, almost awestruck look in Haechan’s eyes as he watches you before your arms give out and you collapse onto the bed, eyes fluttering shut once more.

He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, detaching his lips from your clit with a wet pop, and you can feel him moving to kneel on the bed between your legs, his hands pressing down on either side of your head as he (probably—you wouldn’t know since your eyelids feel too heavy to move) watches you.

“You still with me, baby?” he chuckles, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

All you can manage is a weak nod, and his responding laugh is smug and dark, prompting you to laboriously open your eyes to look at him. He’s hovering over you, eyes roving over your body and your face with a greedy sort of hunger in his gaze before he sits up, the telltale sound of his pants opening alerting you to what’s to come.

“I’m with you,” you finally answer, voice hoarse and thick with desire, and he grins widely, the smile almost devious as he leans back over you with one hand by your head.

“Good—because we’re not done yet.” he says with an upwards flick of his eyebrows. It’s devastatingly handsome and your core clenches with need as he wets his lips and finishes opening his pants, pushing them down his thighs and pulling his boxers down to let his length spring free.

For a moment, he kneels there, watching you with dark eyes as he pumps his fist up and down his length.

“I wish you could see how pretty you look,” he grunts, leaning back to get a good look at you. “Prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

Your cheeks blaze and you look away, flustered, but he turns your chin so you’re looking at him once more. 

“Look at me,” he urges breathlessly. “Keep those pretty eyes on me, baby—think you can do that for me?”

“Uh-huh—”

“Good girl.” he purrs, and the heat in your cheeks returns full force, as well as spreads to your core and inner thighs. “You ready?” he asks, bringing the tip of his length to your entrance. You can feel the thick head of his cock pressing insistently against your entrance, poised to enter at a moment’s notice, and the thought thrills you, making you nod before you even realize what you’re doing.

He pushes into you slowly, making you gasp and push at his stomach. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just big, and you’re not as ready as you thought you were.

“Don’t run from it, baby.” he chuckles, voice throaty and deep as he pushes in more. The arm attached to your hand pressing against him bends and he grins, using the leeway to push in more. You let out a pathetic little moan as he slowly bottoms out in you, and he grins. “That’s right, baby, take it. Feel my cock nice and deep, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously. 

“Fits so nice and perfect—fuck, you feel so good, baby—” he groans before starting to pull out. He thrusts back in with a slow, fluid motion that makes your breath catch in your throat and gives you practically no time to recover, starting to rock his hips in and out with slow, smooth strokes that have your eyes rolling back.

When you cry out weakly and clap a hand over your mouth, he shakes his head with a teasing smile, starting to build up the pace.

“I want to hear you moan.” he urges. When a particularly well-placed thrust makes you whimper again, he frowns at you and yanks your hand from your mouth, pinning it beside your head. “Come on, pretty, you can do better than that.” he coaxes, reaching between you two with his free hand and massaging your clit in little circles that, when combined with his thrusts, make you swear loudly, a moan falling from your lips that makes him grin. “That’s more like it—sound so pretty, baby—”

He builds the pace even more, quick, powerful strokes into you making the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping on skin and the bed shifting fill the room as he effectively fucks you stupid, thoughtless words spilling from your lips.

“Right there—fuck, yes, there—”

“Here?” he teases, pressing down more firmly on your clit, and you nod, proceeding to babble more nonsense. You bite down on your lip, embarrassed by the noises you’re letting out, and he sucks his teeth. “Said I wanna hear you, right? Why are you biting your lip?”

“Too loud—it’s embarrassing,” you whine, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down to kiss you passionately.

“It’s you and me, baby,” he assures you against your lips. “Just you and me. Let me hear you.”

“Fuck, Haechan—please don’t stop—”

“That’s it, talk to me, baby,” he grunts, brows furrowing in concentration as he continues to fuck into you.

“Feels so good—you’re so good to me—”

“That’s right, baby—no one’s better than me—” he pants, and you shake your head in agreement.

“No, just you—”

“This is what you want, right? You don’t want losers like that guy—”

“Shut up about him—”

“You want me,” he asserts, and you nod with a mewl of pleasure. “That’s right, pretty, you’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agree breathlessly, and his responding smile is positively radiant. “You’re—mm—”

“I’m what, hm?” he coaxes, almost as if he knows what you’re about to say.

“You’re mine,” you gasp, and he nods vigorously, grinning from ear to ear.

“This is yours, baby—it’s all yours,” he promises, and you nod back, shallow breaths leaving you with every thrust. “Look at me, pretty girl,” he urges, and when you do, he puckers his lips at you in an air kiss. “What’s my name?”

“Hae—chan,” you whimper, and he beams at you, nodding encouragingly.

“Yes, baby, good girl—who’s doing this to you, hm? Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Haechan, you—” You’re sure you’re losing your mind with all the combined pleasure of his fingers, his length, and his words. “Fuck—gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum—”

“I am?” he wonders aloud with a teasing lilt to his voice. “I shouldn’t stop then, huh?”

“No,” you’re quick to reply, shaking your head with tears building in your eyes. The sounds of lovemaking are only getting louder, the soundscape consuming you as you start to succumb to the pleasure. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop—wanna cum so bad, Haechan—”

“Then cum, baby—wanna feel you clench nice and tight around my cock—”

“Cum–ming—I’m cumming—” you whine, fingers clutching at the bed sheets as your orgasm takes over you. Your eyes rolling back into your head and your lids fluttering shut, your back alternates between arching and curling in on itself, your mind on the brink of ecstasy as he brings you to a powerful climax.

“God, baby, you’re sucking my cock in—what a greedy girl,” he teases, but there’s a strain to his voice that lets you know he’s close as well.

“Cum, Haechan—please, wanna feel it, want you to fill me—”

“Shit—” he curses loudly, his head dropping forward as his thrusts slow to a jerky stop before he’s bottoming out in you, balls pressed to your ass as he releases into you, your walls flexing around him rhythmically from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “That’s it, baby, milk my cock just like that—gonna give you every drop—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble mindlessly. “Want it—give it to me—”

“All yours, baby, all yours,” he promises as his length throbs inside of you. The two of you stay in that position, catching your breath for several moments, before he pulls out of you carefully, making you sigh in disappointment. “Don’t tell me you want more?” he jokes, and you shake your head immediately, certain you can’t handle another orgasm right now.

“No, it just—felt good.” you mumble shyly, and he grins, leaning down to kiss you. This kiss is much sweeter than the previous ones and you can practically feel his satisfaction through the lip lock as he slowly molds his lips with yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a quick taste.

“There’s more where that came from, baby, don’t you worry your pretty little head.” he promises, and you’re surprised that genuine relief fills your insides. “Now—”

“Shut up.”

“But—you don’t even know what I was about to say!”

“I could tell by the tone of your voice,” you reply with a tired but amused smile.

“Oh, yeah? What was I gonna say?”

“Something about that dude.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say with a chuckle and a roll of your eyes. 

“Was just gonna say he definitely couldn’t do what I just did.”

“Most certainly could not. He couldn’t even dance.” you snicker, and he grins, satisfied with your answer.

“Good. Now that we’ve established that, do you wanna, um, go back?”

“No?” you reply, confused. “Are you crazy?”

“No, just trying to make sure I didn’t literally drag you away from a good time.”

“You didn’t,” you assure him, and he smiles, relieved. “Wanna order, like… room service or something?”

“Oh, hell yeah.” he agrees instantly, flopping down beside you on his stomach. You internally apologize to the room cleaning service for when they have to clean your cum-stained sheets, but thankfully, they’re white, so the evidence of your activities might remain a mystery to anyone beyond your room.

As Haechan starts scrolling through the online menu for room service food, you think back to the possessive behavior he just displayed and realize, to your surprise, you have no qualms about it—hell, you would even encourage it. 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” you say, patting the back of his thigh before slowly climbing to your feet. You adjust your top and bra so your breasts aren’t exposed and shuffle to the bathroom, glad Haechan’s too engrossed in reading the food options to notice the way your legs are slightly trembling. When you get in the bathroom, however, you gasp loudly after you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror.

“What?” Haechan calls out, alarmed, and you poke your head out of the bathroom to glower at him. 

“Did you have to leave so many marks?” you complain, and he looks up from his phone, looking over the marks left on your neck and chest appreciatively.

“I did, actually.” he replies smugly, and you roll your eyes before shutting the door again before he can see the smile growing on your lips.

“Unbelievable.” you mutter through your smile, inspecting the love bites littered all over your skin. “How the hell am I gonna cover all of these up?”

Even as you tilt your head this way and that to get a good look at the damage Haechan inflicted on your skin, you can’t help but smile as you realize you don’t really mind all that much. 

In the morning, you wake up to Haechan draped over you, his arm and leg positioned over your body in such a way that any real attempts to get up would wake him as well. 

“Haechan,” you whisper, your morning voice hoarse. He doesn’t move. You try again. “Haechan.”

“Mm?” he grunts, still very much asleep, and you sigh loudly, moving his arm off of you. He whines and pulls you closer, putting his arm back where it was.

“Haechan.” you say, a seriousness to your voice that you know will get through his sleepy brain. Sure enough, his brow furrows as he opens his eyes, squinting at you sleepily. You ignore how delectable he looks right now with mussed up hair and puffy morning lips.

“What?” he groans, burying his face in your neck as he holds onto you.

“You’re breaking the rules.” you point out, flicking at his arm and leg trapping you in place.

“What rules?” he mumbles groggily, and you sigh, trying to hide your amusement and fondness at his sleepy confusion.

“Our rules,” you remind him, and he mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “fuck the rules” before pressing his face into your neck and breathing in deeply. “No cuddling? Remember that?”

He shifts slightly, mumbling much more clearly now. “I’m not cuddling, I’m… huddling for warmth.”

“Haechan.” you say with a sigh, not buying it for a second.

“Mm?” he sounds mildly annoyed now, and you bite back a laugh.

“The heater is literally on, and you’re hot as fuck.”

Even in his half-awake state, the corners of his lips tug into a smirk. “Why, thank you.”

“No, you dolt, I’m talking about body temperature,” you reply with a hint of exasperation. “You’re very warm.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” he mutters, waving you off dismissively. “Just go back to sleep.”

“Not until you release me from your cuddling clutches.”

“Not happening.”

“So you admit you’re cuddling me right now.”

“If I say we’re cuddling,” he says, sounding significantly more awake, and you can’t help but notice that his morning voice is deeply arousing, his timbre significantly lower and deeper and even a bit raspy. “Will you go back to sleep?”

“No! We’re not supposed to do this.” you complain, and he props his head up to regard you with sleepy eyes and a deadpan gaze.

“Does it hurt?”

“What?”

“The cuddling. Am I hurting you?”

“Well—no,” you mumble, and he nods.

“Do you dislike it?” he asks, and you pause. “I asked you a question,” he murmurs, voice still authoritative even in his drowsy state as he squeezes you slightly.

“No,” you admit quietly, and he smiles, pleased.

“Great. Now here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna lay your pretty little head back down and go back to sleep just like this.”

“Am I?”

“I could always fuck you until you pass out.” he offers, and you blink, not expecting that at all. At your stunned silence, he chuckles softly, lifting his head to look at you. “Sound good? Or would you rather go back to sleep on your own?”

“I’ll, um,” you mumble, “I’ll go back to sleep on my own.”

He smiles again, eyes closed as he nods and pats your side in approval. “Good girl. Good night.”

“It’s 9:46am,” you point out, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.

“Time is a social construct. Now go back to sleep and let me hold you, woman.”

“...Fine.” you mutter, settling back down in his arms, and he shifts closer, pecking your neck and up to your cheek slowly.

“Good night, baby,” he says again, and you heave a small little sigh of defeat.

“Good night, Haechan.” you reply, and he hums in satisfaction before laying his head back down and falling back asleep almost instantly.

As you listen to the heater whirring and Haechan’s soft breathing, you can’t help but wonder if he had a point when he sleepily told you, “Fuck the rules.”

Maybe the rules were a bit outdated, anyway, you think as you drift off to sleep, secretly relishing his secure hold and warmth radiating from his body. 

“This shit is hard,” Jiwoo complains after her fourth attempt to get the ball in the hole. “How does Tiger Woods do it?”

“It’ll remain a mystery for ages to come,” you sigh. “Whose idea was mini golf, anyway?”

“Mine,” Jihyo says with a frown, and you pause, rethinking your words.

“And what a great idea it was,” you assure her. “It’s fun, conveniently fifteen minutes away from the hotel, and it’s inexpensive! I just think I’d be having more fun if I was, like, good at it, y’know?”

“Want help lining up your shot?” Haechan offers, and you turn back to look at him, rolling your eyes slightly at his suggestively raised eyebrows and playful grin.

“Yeah, actually.” you say, beckoning him closer. He pushes his golf club into Renjun’s unsuspecting arms immediately and makes his way over to you, standing behind you. His hands fall to your hips as he gently moves you into the proper position, and they glide up your sides and down your arms until his hands are clasped over yours. 

“Damn, Haechan, way to grope our friend in front of my very eyes.” Mark remarks sarcastically.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haechan defends himself, huffing under his breath before returning his attention to you. “Plus, you like it, don’t you?” he coos in your ear, and you let out a flustered giggle, squirming away from his lips.

“Shut up,” you mumble with a smile, but it just seems to prove Haechan’s point, the cockiness radiating off of him in waves as he guides your arms to swing the club, the ball rolling down the green path before tipping over the edge and landing in the hole. You beam as you turn around to celebrate with Haechan, his arms already outstretched for a hug. You step into his embrace readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding onto him as he sways you both from side to side.

“Not you two dry humping on the mini golf course,” Mark groans, gesturing at you in disbelief. “Have some respect for the Putt Putt Brothers!”

“First of all, how is a hug dry humping?” you start in on Mark, turning around with an accusatory pointed finger at him. “Second of all, that is not the name of this establishment, you nitwit.”

“Hey!” Mark yelps, clutching his chest defensively. “I was joking—”

“You’re joking now that I called you on it, huh?” you counter, raising your eyebrows, and Mark huffs, crossing his arms and muttering something about public indecency and the sanctity of friendships. When you turn back to Haechan, he’s watching you with intense intrigue, an impressed expression on his face. “What?” you ask, voice now devoid of any (playful) edge to it.

“That was pretty hot.” he murmurs, wiggling his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes with a growing bashful smile. “No, really—kinda want you to snap at me like that.”

“Cause me mild to severe annoyance and my wrath is all yours,” you say, patting his chest twice with a playful smile before stepping out of his embrace. You’ve barely made it ten steps into your attempt to catch up to your friends before you whip back around to face Haechan once more. “I’m joking. Please don’t piss me off.” 

“I’ll try not to, but… you’re just so hot when you’re irritated.” he says with a shrug and a shameless grin, and you snort in amusement, looking over your shoulder to see that your friends are split between one course away from yours and the rest are at the drink bar, blissfully unaware of what you two are up to. 

“That’s an interesting kink of yours,” you muse. “Where’d you pick that up at?”

“Not you kinkshaming me?” he gasps. “And to think I trusted you.”

“Oh, hush. I said it was interesting.” 

“Interesting is code for weird.” he says with a frown, and you coo sympathetically, cupping his chin affectionately. 

“I just wanna understand it more,” you explain. “Like… a psychoanalysis.”

“You wanna be my shrink?” he asks, eyes wide. “Oh, that’s hot.”

“I swear, you’re getting more fascinating by the minute.” you chuckle in disbelief.

“Can I put my head in your lap and tell you all my troubles while you play with my hair?” he sighs hopefully, and you blink, stunned. 

“You think you’re allowed to put your head in the lap of a shrink?”

“Well, no, but you’re not just any shrink, y’know? You’re my sexy shrink.” he says with a suggestive wiggle of his brows, and you exhale loudly through your nose in surprised amusement.

“And what does your sexy shrink do, hm? What’s in the job description?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in sarcastic curiosity.

“You, my sexy shrink, let me put my head in your lap—”

“We got that one.” you interject, but he carries on like you haven’t spoken.

“And play with my hair, and, y’know, if I’m in need of a little… sexual therapy, then you’re there.” 

You stare at him blankly. “I can’t believe you really stood there and made that up.” 

He shrugs casually. “Off the dome, baby; off the dome.”

“Yeah, a hollow ass dome,” you chuckle, and he gasps.

“Hollow?!” he squawks indignantly, and you nod, grinning gleefully.

You bring a knuckle to his forehead and knock gently. “Thunk, thunk.”

“You’re so mean,” Haechan huffs.

“Yet you’re hard.” you say with a roll of your eyes, but you’re confused when Haechan looks at you with restrained panic. “What is it?”

“You can see it?” he asks worriedly. 

You blink in confusion, gaze drifting downwards and—”Haechan, you’re joking.” 

“I wish I could joke about this.” he laments, and you start to giggle, clapping a hand over your mouth. “It’s not funny!”

“It very much is funny, actually—you stood here daydreaming about me being your sexy shrink and you popped a boner.” you snicker, and he scowls at you, not a shred of malice in his gaze to back it up.

“Can you stop laughing and help me?” he pleads, and you splutter in confusion.

“And how am I going to help you? I’m not sneaking off with you!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper, and he frowns deeply, eyes pleading with you. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Baby, please?” he mumbles, and you’re ashamed to admit that all your resolve just crumbled at the sound of his voice cracking slightly towards the end.

“Do you guys ever wonder what those two get up to when they disappear?” Mark asks, and there’s a moment of silence.

“Briefly, yeah, but I don’t like to dwell on it,” Renjun answers with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“They’re kinda cute together, no?” Jihyo hums thoughtfully, and Jaemin shrugs.

“Little bit, actually. I have to agree.” Jaemin adds with a wise nod. 

“Not to get sentimental, but do you guys remember when we, like, all hung out for the first time?” Jiwoo thinks aloud.

“Because we kept hearing about each other through each other but we’d never had us all together in one room… so Jaemin crashed out and made us hang out.”

“I did not crash out! I just tracked everyone down and made a group chat and guilt tripped all of you into coming.” Jaemin answers defensively.

“Admitting to the guilt tripping years later is wild.” Mark chuckles.

“I’m not ashamed.” Jaemin says with a shrug. “I’d do it again.”

“That’s all well and good, but back to what I was saying,” Jiwoo butts in. “We probably should have anticipated those two disappearing frequently in the future because they kept sneaking off together that day!” 

“They really did, didn’t they? There are so many times where they’re just… nowhere to be found.” Jeno remarks curiously.

“It’s their thing,” Jihyo remarks protectively. “Let them do their thing.”

“It’s probably Haechan’s doing,” Jeno muses. “Probably drags the poor girl off to fuck around and do Lord knows what.”

“Oh, please, you know she likes to wander.” Jiwoo points out. “She probably gets restless and starts to roam, and Haechan—”

“Would follow her off a cliff without her even asking.” Renjun chuckles.

“Exactly.” Jaemin agrees. “So it’s both of them.”

“Should we tell them we know?” Mark wonders, and Jihyo rolls her eyes, placing a hand on her hip.

“Let them figure out whatever the hell is going on between them first? Besides, I don’t see the appeal in forcibly bearing witness to their weird little relationship.” she replies, and Mark nods thoughtfully.

“Good point, good point… so we don’t say anything? We just…” Mark trails off.

“Let them do their thing.” Jihyo finishes, and Mark nods with a shrug.

“I guess.”

One rushed and hushed orgasm later, you and Haechan are back on the scene with your friends, all of you laughing at Renjun’s failed attempt to get the ball in the hole while staying under par when you feel a set of eyes on you. Your skin crawls as you look around, finally making eye contact with the guy from the festival from yesterday, and he grins at you, his smile still eerily wide and eager. 

“Oh, brother.” you sigh, offering him a tiny, very fake smile before returning your attention to your friends. 

“What’s wrong?” Jiwoo asks, stepping closer to you and speaking lowly. “Everything alright?”

“It’s that weirdo from yesterday—Chad.” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s here.”

“Ew.”

“Right?” 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think he’s coming over here.” she says carefully, and you look around for Haechan instantly, your heart dropping when he’s nowhere in sight.

“I’m gonna disappear for a minute,” you say as surreptitiously as possible, and she nods, squeezing your hand gently.

“Be safe, okay? Anything happens, just scream and we’ll come running.” she promises, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Will do. Thanks, girl.” you say gratefully, walking off quickly. 

“Hey, wait up!” you hear Chad say, and you sigh internally before turning around and looking at him with raised eyebrows. “How are you?” he says when he finally catches up to you. 

“I’m alright; you?” you say politely, and he shrugs, flashing that wolfish grin again.

“I’m great now that I’m seeing you.” he replies and you’re sure that would have worked if, say, Haechan had said it, but you find yourself fighting back a grimace.

“Cool.” you say shortly, smiling politely before turning to leave.

“Wait!” he calls out, and you blink hard before turning back around. “I got you a drink.” He thrusts the cup at you, and you eye it suspiciously.

“I’m okay, actually.” you tell him, patting his hand before pushing the cup back at him.

His brows knit together and he shakes his head. “No, really, I insist.”

You contemplate just taking the drink to be polite, but you really don’t like the glint in his eye like he’s planning something, and it gives you a sinking feeling that he may have done something to the drink.

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Really.”

“Come on, I got a drink just for you and you won’t even try it?”

“Listen—Charlie—”

“Chad,” he corrects you, and you pause, nodding.

“My bad. I don’t want the drink. I’m actually, uh, all full of drinks and was heading to the bathroom. So… I’m gonna go do that.” you inform him, and a scowl passes over his face for half a second but you catch it all the same.

“It’ll be waiting for you when you get back,” he says with an unnerving smile, setting it on the countertop by where you’re standing. 

“I just said I don’t want it.” you say flatly, losing your patience rapidly.

“And I said it’ll be waiting for you.” he counters, and you raise your eyebrows.

“Yeah, alright.” you mutter, shooting him a passive aggressive thumbs up and a smile that definitely does not reach your eyes. “See ya.” 

When you exit the bathroom, you look around to see if Chad is anywhere nearby, and sigh in relief when you see that he’s not.

To your relief, you spot Haechan’s back at the drinks stand and walk over to him. As you do, you pass the drink Chad left for you and promptly smack the cup, knocking it and its contents onto the grass.

“Whoops.” you mumble sarcastically, picking up the cup and tossing it in the nearest garbage before continuing your walk to Haechan. He turns when you call his name, smiling widely as you give him a small wave. “Hey,” you finally say when you make it to him.

“Hey,” he says with a small grin. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah, actually, I’d love one.” you answer, smiling back at him. 

“Pick what you want, baby.” he offers, gesturing at the menu. You peruse it carefully and decide to go with a virgin piña colada, telling the bartender your selection. “Good choice,” he praises, and you smile at him warmly.

“Thanks.” you say with a giggle, the smile slipping off your face when you spot Chad off to the side in the distance. He hasn’t seen you just yet, and you’d like to keep it that way. “Hey, Haechan?” you call quietly, tugging at the side of his shirt. He turns around immediately, brows furrowed at the concern in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” he responds, voice low as he scans your face. “You okay?”

“Not really,” you answer honestly, and his brows knit together even more.

“What happened?”

“Remember that guy from yesterday? At the music festival?” you say, and irritation flashes across his face for a moment before it’s gone, his clenched jaw the only reminder that it was there. “Well, he’s here, and he’s bothering me.”

“Where is he?” Haechan says without a moment of hesitation, looking over you and around the course, and you cup his face and turn his head back to face yours.

“I don’t want you to fight him,” you chuckle softly, and he cracks a small smile at your laugh, nodding in understanding. “I need a favor from you.”

“Anything,” he agrees instantly, and you can’t help but laugh again, endeared by how willing he is to help you.

“Can you… pretend to be my boyfriend? So he’ll leave me alone?” you request hopefully, and he nods readily, pausing to think for a moment.

“How far do you want me to go?” he asks curiously, and if you’re not mistaken, there’s excitement creeping into his voice.

“As far as you need to go to sell it.” you answer with a shrug, and he grins.

“Copy that.”

You’re walking to the next course with Haechan several feet behind the rest of your friends, his fingers wrapped around yours protectively, when his grip tightens slightly out of nowhere. When you look around, confused, Haechan moves to stand in front of you, cupping your face and gazing into your eyes.

“He’s right over there,” he murmurs urgently. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he warns you, and you nod, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. He leans in and connects your lips in a kiss so casually possessive that it makes your head spin. He clutches at your waist, pulling you up against him as he moves his lips against yours fervently. When you whimper faintly into the kiss, he groans and pulls back ever so slightly, mumbling, “Better keep a handle on those cute little noises before I take you back to the hotel.”

“If that guy sticks around, maybe you should.” you hum invitingly, and he chuckles darkly, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“What did I say about tempting me?” he says softly, nose nuzzling against your own. You feel the guy’s eyes on you as he passes by and, as if he can sense it, Haechan pulls you into another kiss, this one markedly more heated and handsy than the first. One hand slides down the small of your back and caresses where your asscheek meets your thigh, his lips parting from yours as he kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking with a hint of possessiveness to his actions. “Mine,” he speaks against your skin, and goosebumps erupt on your arms as you swallow thickly.

There’s no way he said that loudly enough for the guy to hear, and it hits you that he might not have even had the man in mind when he said it, and now hope, along with excitement, blooms in your chest.

“Yeah? Yours?” you ask softly, and he kisses back up to your lips, capturing them in a slow, nasty kiss complete with his tongue pushing into your mouth and stroking at your own. When you gently suck on his tongue, he grunts, the sound filled with surprise and desire as he pulls back slowly to look you in the eyes.

“You’re a tease.” he breathes, a warning undertone to his voice, and you shake your head in disagreement. “No? You’re not? Then what was that just now?”

“That was me telling you,” you say as you pull him closer and bring your lips to his ear, “that I want you to take me back to the hotel room.”

He stiffens in surprise, and pulls back to look at you, searching your face for any signs of a joke. When you nod encouragingly, he grins widely, looping his fingers around yours once more and tugging you towards your friends. 

“I don’t feel well,” you lie, frowning at Jihyo. “I wanna go back to the hotel and lie down for a bit.”

“Oh, no,” Jihyo coos, walking over to you and placing the back of her hand to your forehead. “You do feel a little warm,” she remarks worriedly, and you thank Haechan’s kissing skills for the slight feverish effect they’ve had on you. “Are you gonna go alone?” she asks, concerned, and Haechan shakes his head.

“I’m gonna take her back,” he tells her, and she nods, satisfied. 

“Okay, well—feel better, babe,” she says sincerely, and you nod, smiling feebly.

“I’ll try.” 

As you two walk away and are out of sight of your friends, Haechan slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple.

“You feel a little warm, huh?” he teases. “Maybe you should take some of those clothes off when we get back.”

“Mm, I feel so weak,” you sigh dramatically, looking up at him through your lashes. “Will you help me?”

He stops short, looking at you with incredulity and gradually building delight in his eyes, before stammering, “I—well—yes, hell, yes—how far are we from the hotel? Wanna take an Uber?”

“Yeah,” you hum, resting your head on his shoulder and sighing. “I’m just… so hot.” 

“Hell yeah, you are, baby.” he mumbles distractedly as he fumbles his phone out of his pocket and opens the Uber app. 

Once the Uber is booked, Haechan sits on a bench on the sidewalk, pulling you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. 

It dawns on you several moments later that the guy you’ve been avoiding is probably long gone, and you wonder if Haechan has noticed the same, the male seemingly committed to keeping up the role of your affectionate boyfriend.

You think on it for a moment, pondering how good his arms feel around you and how soft his lips are when he kisses you, and decide two things: one, you won’t remind him just yet, and two, that you hope Haechan never realizes his fake boyfriend duties are (probably) no longer needed.

With this new decision comes a realization: you like Haechan far more than you thought you did in the beginning, and as Haechan nuzzles into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss after kiss, you wish he meant it with all the romantic intent and none of the casualness. 

Today, the eight of you are at the local Fire Island zoo, walking around the exhibits and you’re having a great time; that is, until you’re stopping in the middle of the path to take a photo of the wildlife, your friends continuing on, and you feel two arms wrapping around your waist from behind and Haechan’s chin on your shoulder.

“Haechan,” you murmur, trying not to draw the attention of your friends a few feet ahead of you.

“Mm, yes?” he hums, nose in your hair by your neck. 

“You’re breaking the rules, like, real bad right now.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“And what rule am I guilty of breaking?” he murmurs against your neck, and you squirm, turning around to face him. He never lets go of you, so your turn to face him is more of a shuffle-pivot as you remain trapped in his embrace.

“No PDA!” you remind him in a whisper, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I’m protecting you.” he says into your neck, smiling against your skin, and you whine weakly under your breath, head tilting back subconsciously to allow him better access.

“From what?” you ask, confused.

“That creep from before,” he answers, his grip tightening on you for a second as he recalls the incident. “The one that tried to dance on you and take you home—what if he’s here? Lurking in the shadows?”

You snort in amusement, casting a glance over your shoulder to see that your friends have yet to notice you and Haechan significantly farther behind them. With a small sigh of relief, you turn your head back to face Haechan, who’s since lifted his head from your neck and is now looking down at you intently.

“So your holding onto me and your not-very-subtle neck kisses… are your ways of protecting me?”

“Yes.” 

“Even though the creep from yesterday has yet to be seen in this location today?”

“Mhm.”

“And there’s nothing in it for you?”

“Nope.” 

“Nothing at all?”

“I’m just doing my due diligence as your appointed fake boyfriend.” he says smoothly, and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. The two of you engage in a brief staredown, where you’re trying to get him to crack and he sticks firmly to his guns. It’s an unshakable conundrum and you realize fairly quickly that he’s not going to break.

“Sure you are.” you say finally with a roll of your eyes.

“Plus,” Haechan says, pulling you a little closer with a sudden tug, “don’t act like you don’t like it.” 

“So if this is purely a business transaction—the fulfillment of a contract, so to speak—”

“Uh-huh.”

“You won’t mind if I terminate the deal?” you say with a coy tilt of your head, satisfaction flooding your system when his face falls ever so slightly.

“Uh… but what if he shows up again?”

“We can renegotiate.” you say with a wry smile.

“...Fine.” he grumbles, releasing you, and you smile, pleased with yourself, but inside you’re surprised to find a hint of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

“Good. Now come on, we’re, like, miles behind them.” you urge him, turning to rush through the crowds of people. 

Haechan’s hand slips into your own and you look back in surprise to see him smiling innocently at you.

“So we don’t get separated.” he says, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously, looking down at his hand wrapped around yours and up at his guiltless expression and back down at your hands before you sigh in defeat. 

“Come on.” you relent, pulling him after you as you speed walk to catch up to your friends.

Haechan seems determined to test you today—whether it’s your patience or your resolve, you have yet to find out, but he is most certainly putting you through a series of trials on this zoo outing. You’re in line for the petting zoo, and you’re minding your business when you feel a hand slip into yours. You look over to see Haechan casually standing next to you, looking around innocently.

“Haechan.” you murmur surreptitiously. 

“Yes?”

“Why are you holding my hand?” you ask, continuing as he opens his mouth to speak, “And don’t say it’s so we don’t get separated, because we’re standing still. In line.”

“My hand is cold.” he says, and you turn to look at him, blinking impassively.

“You know I can feel your hand, right?”

“Does it feel good?”

“Ignoring that. Your hand is warm—very warm, actually.” you say flatly.

“It feels cold to me.” 

“So you have a fever and should go back to the hotel and rest?” you say, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“No!”

“So you’re fine and your hand is at normal temperature? So you lied? Or did you make a miraculous recovery? Should I call CNN?” you continue, and he glowers at you.

“Can’t I just hold your hand without all the questions?”

“Well, no.” you say, looking at him like he’s dumb. “On account of those rules we set.”

“Rules this, rules that,” Haechan grumbles, pulling you closer to him. “Maybe some rules were meant to be broken.”

“Wh–What?” you say, baffled. “That makes no sense—why would rules be made in the first place if they’re just meant to be broken? They make rules so people don’t break them, you little scoff-law, you.”

“Wasn’t aware I was messing around with a goody two-shoes,” Haechan drawls in response, and you splutter indignantly.

“I’m not a goody two-shoes,” you huff.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” you gripe back, turning on your heel as the line moves up, You move to walk ahead, but Haechan holds on fast to your hand, essentially tethering you to him as you attempt to pull him forward with you and he digs his heels in the sand, so to speak. When you growl to yourself in frustration, he tugs you towards him, your legs giving way to his pulling easily. “What, Haechan?” you complain as you find yourself in his embrace once more.

“You’re not a goody two-shoes, right?” he reminds you, and you furrow your brows in confusion, nodding slowly.

“Right.”

He peeks over your shoulder, presumably to see if your friends are looking, before returning his gaze to you, shooting you a devastatingly handsome playful grin. “So kiss me.”

“What?! No!”

“Why not?”

“Why not? We just established the creep from yesterday isn’t around,” you remind him, “and we ended the fake relationship contract. So are you asking me to kiss you as Haechan, my previously employed fake boyfriend, or Haechan, my friend in public?”

“I’m asking you to kiss me as Haechan, your friend in public who just really wants to kiss you right now.” he murmurs urgently, and you blink in surprise. 

“Why?”

“Why not? You look good as hell today, and it’s not a crime to want to kiss a pretty girl.”

“Wh—but—our friends are, like, a handful of feet away!” you protest weakly, and Haechan rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.

“They’re too far ahead in line,” he explains. “They can’t see us back here. But just to be safe,” Haechan says, angling your bodies in such a way that they’re partially concealed by one of the metal pillars holding up the overhead structure above your heads. “Now they definitely can’t see us.” He looks down at you, that frustratingly alluring grin back on his face as he leans closer, invading your space teasingly, before murmuring. “So kiss me.”

You nibble your bottom lip nervously, leaning upwards slightly to peek over his shoulder at your friends. Satisfied when you’re greeted with the sight of their backs completely turned and unaware, you rock back down onto your heels and grip the front of Haechan’s shirt, pulling him down to you for a quick kiss.

He smiles against your lips and tugs you closer, deepening the kiss slightly as he sucks gently at your bottom lip. 

When you two part with a muted wet sound, your cheeks are blazing with heat, and Haechan has perhaps the most smug grin you’ve ever seen anyone sport… well, ever.

“Now was that so hard?” he coos, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Let’s go catch up,” he says, releasing your waist but lacing his fingers with yours. 

As Haechan leads you to your friends once more, you can’t help but attempt to rationalize the situation, feeling more than a little frustration when all that comes to mind are a slew of questions you don’t know how to answer..

Is he holding your hand and kissing you in public because he likes you, or is he just feeling frisky and affectionate? Is he developing feelings for you, or is he just getting too comfortable? Are the rules you two established actually dumb, or have the circumstances just outgrown them? What exactly even are the circumstances between you and Haechan? Does he have a different perception of what’s going on? Is there something he’s not telling you?

Are you distancing yourself because you’re trying to keep things casual, or do you have feelings for him?

The last question makes you pause, brows knitted together in thought. Do you have feelings for Haechan?

When you truly think about it, you realize that not only do you, not only that you did in the first place, but also that you must have always had feelings for him, because you know good and well you wouldn’t agree to being friends with benefits if you didn’t have an iota of something for him. 

Haechan takes you out of your spiral of questions with no answers by gently smoothing out the space between your eyebrows, his hand dropping slightly to caress your cheek. 

“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his handsome features. “Was it too much to ask you to kiss me just now?” 

“No,” you assure him. “I’m okay—and it wasn’t too much.”

“You sure?” he presses gently, and you’re not sure which question he’s referring to, but you know you don’t want to answer the first and open that can of worms, so you resort to only addressing the second question.

“It was kinda hot,” you confess, and he raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised and just a bit skeptical.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I kinda like when you make me do stuff.” you admit sheepishly. 

Haechan’s lips twitch, the male in front of you fighting back a smile as he continues to watch you suspiciously. “You’re not just saying that to distract me from how you’re feeling?”

You wish for a moment that he wasn’t as perceptive as he is.

“I mean everything I just said,” you assure him, and his lips stretch into a smile.

“I should boss you around more often then, huh?” he says with a flirtatious wiggle of his brows.

“Oh, hush.”

“No, really. Since apparently it gets you all hot and stuff.” he continues, leaning in to murmur in your ear. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“You are a menace to society, but most importantly, you are a menace to me.” you sigh, and he laughs.

“You signed up for this roller coaster, baby. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”

You squint at him. “What cheesy old movie did you steal that from?”

“Hey! That was pretty smooth!”

“If it was smooth—which it wasn’t—it would now be significantly less smooth given the fact that you were trying way too hard to be smooth in the first place.”

“You’re mean.”

“You like it.”

“Yeah, I do.” he sighs dreamily, looking at you with such a tenderness behind his eyes that it almost makes your knees weak. “I really do.”

“I don’t know how to prove it, but I feel like Haechan’s cheating.” Jaemin huffs as​​ the “Perfect Score!” screen appears on Haechan’s playthrough of Michael Jackson: The Experience on the Wii. 

“Never that,” Haechan boasts. “I’m just better than you.”

“And so humble, too,” you joke sarcastically, making Jeno snort. 

“Hey—when Haechan finishes his power trip, can we play Mario Kart?” Mark asks hopefully, and various utterings of assent sound out from around the room.

“I’m not on a power trip! I’m just insanely skilled at this.” Haechan defends himself, glowering at Mark as “Do You Remember the Time” starts playing. “Now, hush, it’s my encore.”

You watch with fascination as Haechan nails the choreography and are only a little bit surprised when you realize that he looks incredibly attractive right now.

“He’s got a home advantage,” Jaemin gripes, crossing his arms. 

You look at him in confusion. “This is my house.”

“No, like, with Michael Jackson; he was probably raised on this game.” Mark sighs.

“I may have played it almost every day after school.” Haechan admits sheepishly, and Jeno, Jaemin, and Mark jeer in distaste.

“Cheater! Yo, get this fool out of here!” Mark complains, and you whack Mark with a nearby pillow, making him splutter and Haechan laugh. His smile is radiant, tanned skin glistening with sweat and hair messy in all the right ways, and you find yourself swooning internally.

“Thanks for having my back,” Haechan says appreciatively, and you nod with a sweet smile.

“Anytime."

As the song ends, Haechan relinquishes the controls to Mark and sits down next to you, breathing heavily. It doesn’t dawn on you that you’re still watching Haechan until he looks over at you and grins flirtatiously, flicking his eyebrows upward as he watches you.

“You like what you see?” he asks, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and you, in a daze, nod. His eyebrows raise once more in surprise and he slinks an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Do you, now?”

“Careful—” you mumble, and he sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes.

“Who cares?” he murmurs in your ear. “Let them see.”

“No,” you protest weakly, but he shushes you, lips grazing along your ear before sliding down to behind your earlobe. 

“Not you two cuddled up on the couch like lovers,” Jihyo calls out from across the room, and you freeze as your friends turn to look at you and Haechan.

“I’m feeling cuddly and she’s right here… perfect for cuddling.” Haechan replies with a shrug and a nuzzle into your neck. “Friends can cuddle.”

“Not like that, they can’t,” Renjun counters, and Haechan glowers at him.

“Just because you don’t like cuddling doesn’t mean it’s unnatural and weird.” he retorts, and you nod in agreement.

“Cuddling never hurt anyone,” you back Haechan up, and Renjun rolls his eyes.

“Great, now they’re on the same side again.” he laments, and Haechan grins at you.

“We make a good team.” he coos at you, and you roll your eyes with a smile, trying to fight down the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Wanna team up again to fight for Chinese food for dinner?” you ask hopefully, and he scans your face slowly before a smile curls his lips.

“I’d be honored.”

Later that evening, you’re in the kitchen washing your dish when you hear familiar footsteps shuffling into the room. You don’t turn to see who it is, your hypothesis proven when Haechan sighs loudly in an obvious attempt to get your attention.

“Yes, Haechan?” you chuckle, and he shuffles closer to you, standing beside you and watching as you wash the bowl in the sink.

“Why’d you leave?” he whines, his arm brushing against yours slightly.

“I had to wash my dish now or I was never going to do it.” you sigh, and he snickers, moving from beside you to stand right behind you.

“Well, are you almost done?” he asks hopefully, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into your neck. “I miss you.” he mumbles against your skin, and the heartfelt words combined with his lips brushing against your neck practically make your knees buckle.

“I mean, I’m rinsing it now,” you say slowly, “so, yes, I’m almost done. And I missed you too.” 

“Mm, really?” he muses, pressing a soft kiss to your neck that makes you fight back the urge to squirm, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses another kiss to your neck in the exact same spot.

“Yes, really.” you mumble, trying to control yourself and not make any sort of noise or reaction that could spur him on further or blow your cover.

“Good. You smell really good,” he groans, breathing in deeply against your neck, and you can’t hide the small shiver that travels down your spine. He presses his spit-slicked lips to your neck, parting them to suck gently at the skin as you curl your fingers up in the dish cloth and bite back a whine. “So… fucking good.”

“You’re breaking the ‘no PDA’ rule. Again.” you point out, and he growls under his breath, shaking you slightly.

“No one’s even in here but us, so it’s private, not public. Now, shut up—you know you like it.” he huffs against your neck, leaving wet kisses down from your ear to your shoulder. 

“No way you’re trying to have sex right now.” you scoff incredulously.

“I’m truly not,” he promises you. “I just want to be close to you.”

“Oh.” you say softly, his words warming your heart. 

“Is that okay with you?” he asks, a hint of sass in his voice.

“Yeah, that’s okay with me.” you agree, and he smiles.

“Great.” he mumbles, sucking and licking at the base of your neck.

You’re so caught up in the mind-reeling sensation of Haechan kissing your neck and his earnest words that send you spiraling with a flurry of questions—like if this is still just something casual to him—that you don’t hear another set of footsteps heading towards the kitchen until Jihyo’s clearing her throat pointedly and you flinch. 

Haechan holds onto you still, lips still working away at your neck, as Jihyo raises an eyebrow expectantly and your cheeks blossom with heat.

“You know what?” Jihyo says, leaning against the doorway. “I’m not even mad, because I feel like I knew all along that you two were up to something.”

“Haechan, cut it out,” you whisper insistently. “I’ll be in the living room in a second.”

He sighs and reluctantly detaches himself from you, lips leaving your neck with a wet smacking noise that makes the heat in your face blaze even hotter, before exiting the kitchen with a sheepish grin at Jihyo.

It’s quiet for a moment as you dry your hands off with a paper towel, until Jihyo speaks.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing.” she says gently, and you pause, thinking over your next words carefully before deciding that honesty might just be the best policy.

“Gonna be real with you? I don’t.” you admit. “I’m just in it for the ride; we have fun together.”

Her brows could not possibly be closer to her hairline, skepticism written all over her face before she sighs and shrugs reluctantly. “Copy that, I guess.” She pushes off of the doorway and offers you her hand, jerking her head back towards the living room where you can hear the sounds of laughter and casual chatting. “You coming?”

You smile and take her hand, relieved she decided to let you be. “I’m coming.”

“I landed on your property and you charged me, but she landed on it and you didn’t charge her anything?!” Renjun squawks indignantly when Haechan gives you a pass.

“Well, yes. You’re mean to me.” Haechan responds like it’s obvious, and Renjun grumbles something under his breath about favoritism and unfair advantages.

“Thank you, Haechan,” you say sweetly, and he smiles at you.

“You’re welcome.” 

“Okay, my turn!” Jeno exclaims, rolling the dice. He lands an eight and moves eight spaces, landing on a “Go to Jail” space, and groans loudly. “I hate Monopoly.”

“Whose idea was Monopoly, anyway?” Jaemin complains, and Jiwoo raises her hand.

“Monopoly is fun! It brings out everyone’s inner competitive side.” she defends herself, and Jeno rolls his eyes.

“Not too much on Jiwoo,” you say protectively, and she smiles at you gratefully. “Okay, my turn,” you say, rolling the dice. You land a six, and given that you were two spaces ahead of Jeno, you also land on the “Go to Jail” space. “Oh, man.” you say, frowning, and Haechan leans over to you, offering you something you can’t quite see yet.

“I have a ‘Get out of Jail Free’ card if you want it,” he offers, and you smile brightly, taking the card from him.

“Thank you, Haechan,” you coo, and he smiles widely, a hint of a blush appearing on his cheeks.

“That is not how the game is played,” Mark points out, and Haechan waves him off.

“You’re just mad you own no properties.” Haechan teases, and Mark stares at him for a long moment before lunging over the table. Haechan shrieks as Mark shakes him roughly, and you pull Mark off with a poorly restrained laugh. 

“No throttling Haechan!” you defend him, and he all but cowers behind you, glaring at Mark.

“You’re lucky your little girlfriend was here to save you.” Mark huffs, and Haechan smiles smugly.

“I sure am,” he coos fondly, and you try to ignore the thrill you feel at being called Haechan’s girlfriend.

You make eye contact with Jihyo, who raises an eyebrow shrewdly, making you do away with the little smile you have in favor of a more neutral expression.

Haechan is anything but subtle, and you’re coming to realize that this arrangement probably won’t be a secret for much longer, making you worry about how your relationship with Haechan might change.

But when his hand finds yours under the table, squeezing gently, you can’t say you mind.

[lovebugism]

What if reader's friends convince her to go on a date with another guy, and this guy is an absolute jerk? I think reader would call Eddie and ask her to come pick her up - why is every guy an asshole? Except Eddie of course 🖤

ty for requesting :D — grumpy!eddie rescues you from a bad date then offers to take you on a better one (friends to lovers, hurt/comfort ish | 1k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The sunset matches the color of your Slurpee. A fiery red and orange hue, like the mango and strawberry concoction in your cup. You sip from the plastic straw and pretend to taste the sky in your mouth — pretending not to notice the pounding bass of Eddie’s van as he peals into the parking lot. 

You sit on the curb and keep your eyes trained on the cracked pavement under your feet. All cool. Like you hadn’t called him for help at all.

“You could’ve been more specific about where you were, you know?” Eddie shouts, punctuating his question with the slam of the car door. His worn sneakers scuff the concrete with each of his rushed strides. You’d almost think he was actually worried about you.

“I told you I was at the payphone by the Seven-Eleven,” you shrug, tilting your chin to look up at the boy when he stands ahead of you.

“There’s four of those,” he argues, with his lanky figure looming over you. He pushes his leather jacket off his sides (which he wears in spite of the summer heat) to put his hands on his hips. “Seriously. I counted ‘em all in the half hour it took me to find you.”

You squint up at him, hardly apologetic after the shit day you’ve had. “Well, sorry for not being more clear,” you spit in a cynical monotone.

“Apology accepted,” Eddie shrugs. He huffs and sits on the curb next to you while you slurp audibly at the slushie in your fist. He leans over to knock your shoulders with his. “What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Figured… Can I have some, at least?”

He’s only partly surprised when you hand over the drink without protest. He takes it in his ringed fist, looks inside to observe its content, then sips at the red straw (trying to ignore the nagging thought that your lips have been where his are now). The strawberry-mango mixture melts quickly on his tongue, foreign and sweet. “’S nice.”

You scoff like you’re owed the compliment. “Right? I let Josh try some earlier, and he said it tasted like shit. I was like, you know what, this is my final fucking straw.”

Eddie’s face screws. He wipes dramatically at his mouth with the back of his hand, hopelessly trying to erase the other asshole’s DNA. “Are you serious?” he mumbles, all annoyed ‘cause you hadn’t thought to warn him beforehand. You don’t seem to understand his meaning, though, as you shrug lazily in response.

“Well, him trying to feel me up in his car was my actual final straw. But then he hated my all-time favorite Slurpee, and I didn’t even want to look at him anymore. I just told him to leave me here.”

The only thing Eddie hates more than putting his mouth where Josh’s has been — other than the thought of Josh taking you on a date at all — is the idea of Josh not treating you right. His chest burns with a withheld rage.

“Are you talking about fucking Josh O.?” he scoffs and passes the styrofoam cup back to you. “Like, the moron from Mr. Mundy’s, Josh O.? That’s who Steve set you up with?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble and take another sip, more casual about the subtle spit-swapping than the boy beside you had been.

“He was basically setting you up for failure, then. You know that, right?”

“I just wanted a free meal,” you confess quietly.

Eddie squints. His eyes flit from your profile, to your fidgeting hand punching holes in the ice with your straw, and back to your profile again. “Well, did you get one?”

“Yep. We split one burger at the diner.”

A laugh sputters from his pink mouth.

Your head whips to glare at him. “It’s not funny.”

Eddie props his elbow on his knee to hide his smile behind his ringed hand. “I mean… It kinda is, though. ‘Cause even I could buy two meals for us, and I’m basically the brokest fucker in this town.”

“Are you offering?”

His brows pinch. “Offering what?”

“To buy me a burger,” you say in a mousy voice, pretending to be innocent as you peer at him beneath your lashes, all doe-eyed.

“What?” Eddie scoffs through the sparkling in his chest. As a self-proclaimed metalhead, there was absolutely nothing metal about confessing to stupid crushes. “No.”

“Well, it sounds a lot like you’re offering,” you tease before wrapping your lips around the straw of your drink.

“Well, this sounds a lot like talking for someone who doesn’t wanna talk about it,” he mocks.

Your eyes narrow in annoyance. You part from your Slurpee and mumble through the ice on your tongue. “I wasted my quarters on you,” you deadpan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. He rises from the curb with a huff, wincing at the distant ache in his long legs. “C’mon, weirdo. Let’s go,” he urges, towering over you again.

You shake your head, gaze averted, suddenly shy. “I’m okay here.”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m serious, Eds. I don’t feel like going home right now—”

“I’m not taking you home,” he scoffs like it’s obvious. Your eyes flit back to his, suddenly hopeful again, and he tries not to cower. “I’m taking you to the diner. So I can get you a real meal.”

You seem particularly moved by the uncharacteristic act of kindness. “Really?”

“Yes, really— I don’t want you to starve to death,” he grouses, feigning annoyance ‘cause it’s easier than facing his real feelings in the face. “Now, let’s go before I change my mind.”

He walks off ahead of you on long legs, leaving you behind to catch up. But, because he isn’t a total asshole, he opens the squeaking passenger side door for you.

“Can I get a milkshake, too?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, helping yourself onto the cracked pleather seat.

“Don’t push it,” Eddie squints. He goes to shut the door, then catches the pretty pout pinching your features. “Fine,” he groans before slamming it shut.

[ariestrxsh]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 content warning: smut, fluff, innocence corruption, religious/purity kink, masturbation, dry humping, mommy kink, use of sex toys, sub!virgin!matt, experienced!pervy!reader

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 author's note: the whole basis of this series is that matt is a pure little christian boy whose innocence gets corrupted by his dommy mommy neighbor, and it may offend you if you're religious, so please don't read if it's going to upset you! 💖 here are parts one and two. enjoy!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: while beginning to open up to you and trust you more, matt decides to loosen his morals and test the waters with you, exploring the sacrilegious world of mind-altering substances and pre-marital sex.

me & u part three

Later that evening, after the two of you cleaned yourselves up along with the remnants of paint-covered plastic that was scattered about Matt's bedroom, you and Matt decided to go up to your treehouse to watch the sunset descend below the horizon. He followed you through your gate and up the rope ladder to your treehouse. You rolled and lit up another joint.

While Matt was still reserved, you could feel him opening up to you and becoming more comfortable in your presence, and you liked that. Matt sprawled out on his back on the wooden floor and watched a cloud of smoke escape your lips and dance around the atmosphere before being sucked out of the treehouse window. "Why do you like to smoke?" Matt wondered aloud. "Same reason you like to masturbate," you smirked at him.

"What's it feel like to be high?" He wondered, watching you take another puff. "Well, it's kind of hard to explain. It makes you feel all weightless and airy, and it feels good. Sometimes it makes you giggle a lot or get the munchies," you relayed to him. "I-I think I want to try it," Matt admitted, looking up at you from his reclined position. You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Are you sure? Why?" You pondered, narrowing your gaze at him, curious as to what changed his mind between today and the day before. "Well, I've been thinking about what you said the other day about caffeine being a mind-altering drug, and I have caffeine almost every day," Matt told you. "So, I feel like I'm not being very consistent if I refuse to try a drug just because it's a drug when I drink coffee," he told you.

"Okay, I'm just letting you know now, it's going to affect you way more than coffee," you responded. "Hit me with it," Matt confidently said. "If you say so," you smirked at him. He went to reach for the joint, but instead of passing it to him, you took this opportunity to climb on top of him and straddle him. Matt stared in awe at your confidence, and he immediately grew hard beneath you.

"Just inhale when I blow it out," you directed him, taking a drag. You took both Matt's wrists and pinned them above his head, making sure not to burn him with the cherry of your joint. You leaned down and slowly blew the smoke into Matt's slightly parted lips, brushing yours against his. He moaned against you while you gently kissed him after you exhaled into his mouth.

You pulled away, realeasing his wrists but still straddling him. You watched as he breathed out the smoke and started violently coughing, covering his face with his elbow. "You okay?" You asked him, and he nodded, but he was still choking on the smoke, and tears started welling in his eyes.

"Here, sit up. I'm going to go get you a glass of water and some snacks for when you start feeling it," you responded, climbing off of him and helping him to a sitting position. "I'll be right back," you whispered, rubbing his back before climbing down your rope ladder.

Matt wiped away the tears that had formed after he'd stopped couging, and he peered up at the sunset straight ahead and admired the way the orange and pink shades bled into each other. He could see why you liked to spend so much time here, and he felt honored that you were willing to share such a sacred space with him.

It wasn't sacred to him in the way that church was, but he could tell it held that quality to you. This was your church. It was a place you went to find peace and quiet, a space where you'd sort out your feelings, and a safe haven where you could go enjoy the simple pleasures life had to offer.

He felt the lightness in his body from the marijuana, and he calmly waited until you were climbing back up the rope ladder. "Here," you said, extending the glass of water to him. He gazed down in awe at it, enthralled by the life-giving elixir you were handing him. "Wow," he whispered, looking at it wide-eyed.

"Are you going to take it?" You giggled, raising an eyebrow at him. "Oh, yeah. Sorry," he said, taking the glass from you and beginning to drink it. "This is the most amazing cup of water I've ever had," Matt replied, gulping more of it down while you pulled all the snacks you'd brought him out of a bag. "Here, I brought you some funyuns, some chocolate-covered pretzels, some sour candy, some beef jerky, a sandwich, and a root beer. Eat as much as you want," you told him, smiling at him and laying them out in front of him.

"You know, you're the nicest girl I've ever met," Matt smiled at you with his glazed over expression while he went to grab the bag of funyuns and the root beer. "Nicest? I don't know if I've ever gotten that compliment before," you snorted, well-aware that you were an abrasive and overbearing kind of person, and people didn't usually use the word nice to describe you.

"You're also the prettiest girl I've ever met," Matt told you with a mouthful of funyuns. You blushed and smiled. "You're the most handsome boy I've ever met," you returned the compliment, tapping him on the nose with the tip of your finger. "How do you feel, handsome boy?" You asked Matt, who was taking a sip of his soda. "I think I feel pretty high," he peered over at you with heavy eyelids, and you giggled. "You look pretty high."

"You know, you're like a fairy. You live in your little treehouse, and you have your elixirs and your potions," Matt stared lovingly at you. "A fairy? That's generous. I'm more like a gnome or a troll," you chuckled. "No. To me, you're a fairy," Matt grinned at you.

"Oh man. My dad is going to be expecting me home for dinner soon, but I can't let him see me like this," Matt said in a concerned voice, snapping back to reality. "Don't worry. Let's send him a text and tell him you're having dinner with my mom and me tonight," you suggested, holding out your palm for him to offer up his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and placed it in your hand.

"Hey, dad. I'm staying for dinner at the neighbor girl's house. I'll be home in a couple of hours," you read out loud while you typed. "Don't forget to say I love you. My dad and I always tell each other that at the end of conversations," Matt muttered to you with his mouth full, dipping his hand into the bag of chocolate-covered pretzels.

"Of course you guys do," you replied with a twinge of jealousy in your voice as you finished typing out the text. "Don't your mom and dad tell you they love you?" He asked. "I mean, yeah. Just not all that often," you replied, lighting up the joint again. "But it's fine. I don't need that," you responded, avoiding eye contact and shrugging.

Matt could tell that under your tough persona that there was a softness to you. "Well, I'd tell you that every day," Matt smiled at you while he crunched pretzels between his teeth. "Are you saying you love me?" You widened your eyes at him, taking one of the chocolate-covered pretzels out of the bag Matt was holding.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I haven't known you for long, but if our next interaction is never promised, which it never is, I'd want you to know I love you," Matt replied, smiling at you. "I love you, too, Matt Sturniolo," you replied, taking another drag.

You weren't a very soft person. In fact, you'd worked to become as stoic and unreadable as possible, but there was something about Matt that softened you, melted your heart, and made it easy for you to let your guard down around him.

"You know, being high makes me kind of horny," your eyes flicked up at Matt's, and you deviously grinned at him. "What are you going to do about it?" Matt gave you a serious look, almost as if challenging you. You raised a brow in his direction. You loved it when Matt egged you on.

You silently crawled over towards him, still holding your lit joint, and you put your legs on either side of his, straddling him again. You leaned down and whispered into his ear. "What I'm gonna do about it is fuck you so good. Give you the kind of pussy you won't mind going to hell for," your warm breath tickled his earlobe.

Matt whimpered at your words, and you felt his cock twitch against your clothed cunt. "But not tonight," you teased him, pulling back and gazing at him. You could tell in his facial expression that he was intimidated by you, but you could also see a craving in his blue eyes. "W-why not tonight?" Matt innocently asked, somewhat disappointed.

"The first lesson in sex is don't ever underestimate the power of the anticipation leading up to the act," you responded in a low, seductive voice, beginning to roll your hips against Matt's while you held eye contact.

A million thoughts were racing through Matt's mind. He knew he shouldn't be letting you rub up against his lap like that, and he knew he shouldn't be smoking weed, but there he was, high as a kite as you were grinding on him and he loved every second of it. He let out a soft whine as you shifted your weight around on him. "You can touch me, you know," you whispered to him, taking a drag off your joint. He was taken aback. Of course, he wanted to, but he wasn't sure if he knew how.

His hands hesitantly wandered until they were on your waist, and he initiated a kiss, brushing his nose against yours and tilting your head towards his. His lips clumsily crashed into yours while you continued riding him. He whimpered against your mouth, your tongue begging for entrance into his. His wandering hands soon curiously traveled to your ass. "Is this okay?" He timidly asked, pulling away from the kiss, and you slowly nodded at him, smiling.

You could feel him hardening beneath you as you teased him. You couldn't deny how good it felt, and with every rock of your hips, you both let out a satisfied moan. He squeezed your bottom as he started nearing his orgasm. You loved how simple it was and how responsive he was to your every touch. "Please don't stop," he managed to get out in the midst of his pleasure. "I wouldn't dream of it," you responded in a dreamy voice, rutting up against his member.

His head fell back and made a quiet thump as it hit the wall of your treehouse, and he let out a loud, needy groan. You peered down in awe at the wet spot on the front of his jeans, realizing you'd made him cum again without even directly touching him. "Wow. That was easy," you told him, nibbling on your lip while you hungrily stared into his bedroom eyes. "That was amazing," Matt told you, catching his breath.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

The next morning, you groggily stumbled out of bed, reminiscing on the night before and the way you and Matt had shared such an intimate moment together. You still couldn't believe he had chosen to get high with you. Matt had waited until his dad had fallen asleep before sneaking back into his house, still stoned from having smoked several hours before. Luckily, he'd made it inside without having to face him.

You reluctantly dragged yourself from your cozy bed and started getting ready for work. You hadn't been awake for long when your phone start buzzing against your dresser. When you peered down at the screen, you saw it was Matt calling. "Hey you," you smiled into the phone, rifling through the mess of clothes in your closet.

"Hey. Sorry to bother you. I just saw your light come on in your room, and I was wondering what you were doing up so early," Matt said, sitting at his desk and taking a sip of his morning coffee. "Are you spying on me?" You jokingly accused him, peering out of your window into his room. "Yeah, whatever. You spied on me first," Matt waved to you from his desk chair.

"The green fits you so well," you told Matt, admiring the new paint on his walls. "Thanks," he smiled. "My shift starts in like 45 minutes, so I'm begrudgingly getting dressed. Look away," you replied, pulling down your pajama bottoms while you glanced back at Matt across the way. "What happens if I don't?" Matt asked, unable to take his eyes off you and the way you looked standing in your underwear, gazing back at him. "Then Jesus will know!" You teased him. He rolled his eyes and chuckled into the phone.

"What are you doing?" You asked him, slipping out of your panties. "Just having some coffee and journaling. Oh, and getting like, the world's hottest striptease," he replied, watching you still. "Sounds hot. Coffee sounds so good right now. Well, I should really finish getting ready, but I'd love to hang out after my shift. I'm off at 3 p.m.," you responded, pulling on a pair of jean shorts.

"Sure. Maybe I'll come see you at work," he told you. "Yeah? What are you looking to buy a pocket pussy or something from me?" You teased him. "Only if you sell me on one," he joked. "I'll catch you later, Matt," you giggled into the phone before you hung up. You took off your top and peered back over at Matt who was still visible in your window. You winked and walked out of view, stepping deeper into your closet.

A few hours into your shift, you were reorganizing some of the lingerie when your coworker Carly nudged you. "Isn't that the guy you came in here with the other day?" You glanced up to see Matt walking into the shop, holding a frozen caramel coffee in his hand. He gave you that same shy smile and gentle wave as the first day you'd met him. You made your way over to him, smiling from ear to ear.

"Awh, Matt. Did you bring me a coffee?" You asked, motioning at the drink in his hand. "Yeah," he said, handing it off to you. "Also, this is embarrassing.." he started to say, lowering his voice. "What's up?" You tilted your head, looking at him sympathetically. "I'm here for more than just to see you and bring you a coffee," Matt blushed. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, picking up on what he was trying to say.

"Are you here as a customer?" You wondered out loud. "Look, I've never done this before. But can you give me a recommendation?" Matt quietly asked, his eyes darting around the shop as if he were worried about seeing someone he knew. "This is so hot. I can't believe I get to help you pick out your first sex toy!" You practically shouted, turning heads and drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the vicinity. Matt shushed you while blood rushed to his cheeks.

"Not if you're gonna embarrass me," Matt mumbled, hiding his face. "Matt, everyone who's in here is here for their sexual needs. Why would they be judging you?" You rolled your eyes, smiling at him and grabbing him by the hand. You pulled him over to the men's sex toy section.

"Unfortunately, there aren't quite as many options for men, but are you looking for like a cock ring or a fleshlight? Maybe a butt plug?" You asked, picking one up and dangling it in his face. "Uh, no. I think that's a little advanced for me," Matt giggled, taking it out of your hand and putting it back down. "Just pick me out something that's not too weird."

"Well, Matt, weird is subjective," you responded, grinning at how flustered he was. He rolled his eyes, still blushing. "I think I know what you should get. Follow me," you responded, leading him down the aisle. "Now, I'm not a man, so I can't tell you from personal experience how good this one is, but it has great reviews on our website," you told him, picking up a packaged fleshlight and putting it in his hand. "The inside of it is really textured and made of a really soft material. A lot of men say that if you use lube, it feels almost as good as actual sex."

"Well, I wouldn't know," Matt rubbed the back of his neck, nervously laughing. "Well, when we inevitably fuck, you can tell me how true that is," you whispered into his ear. "Anyway, it's really discreet, and according to a lot of male customers we have, it feels really good," you told him. He stared at you needily and nodded as you told him about it, still hung up on the comment about the two of you inevitably having sex.

"Let's get you some lube and some toy cleaner, too," you smiled at him, leading the way towards the front. You gave him the rundown on how to clean it and store it, and you bagged everything up for him. "Here you go," you said, smiling at Matt and handing it over to him. "Don't I need to pay for it?" Matt inquired. "No, I'll pay for it later. That way I can use my employee discount," you told him. "That's sweet of you. You don't have to do that," Matt replied.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. The only rule is, you can't use it on yourself until I get off shift," you bit your lip at him. "That's like four hours from now," he pouted at you. "Be a good boy and wait until mommy gets home, okay?" You whispered, looking into his eyes. "Okay, fine," Matt huffed at you.

"Oh, hey, pretty boy. You decide to come back and get something for yourself?" Carly appeared out of nowhere. Matt timidly looked at her and slowly nodded. "That's hot. You have to come back and tell us how good it made you feel," your coworker seductively looked him up and down while she chewed on her lip. He nodded again.

"I'll see you later, Matt," you told him before he left the shop. "I don't know what you did to that boy, but he's under your spell," Carly smirked at you before wandering off to another part of the store.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Matt had already been playing heavily on your mind since you'd met him, but by the time you clocked out, all you could think about was how he would look and sound while using his new fleshlight.

When you got home, you took a shower, washed the day from your skin, and slipped into a comfortable over-sized shirt. You called up Matt while you were standing in your bedroom, gazing through your window at the cute boy laying in his bed. "Hey," he answered the phone, trying not to sound too excited, looking back at you.

"I have a weird request," you nibbled on your lip. "What is it?" Matt wondered. "I want to watch you use your new toy from here," you nervously replied, smirking as the words left your mouth. "At least you asked this time," Matt teased you, smiling at you. "And if you could stay on the phone with me while you use it, I'd really like that," you admitted.

"That would be really hot," Matt responded. "You haven't used it yet, have you, baby?" You cooed. "No, I've been a really good boy," he needily replied. He started slowly unzipping his jeans, and you could see it through the window and hear it through the phone.

He pulled out his aching cock and reached for the lube you'd recommended to him earlier. You heard him pop the lid open, and you could hear his soft groans as he applied it. He already had his fleshlight within reach like he was waiting to be able to use it.

"Good boy. Why don't you put it in?" You suggested in a seductive whisper. "Yes, mommy," he obeyed you. You watched as his length disappeared into the fleshlight, and you listened as his needy groans filled your ear. "I bet it feels so good," you smirked. "Oh. Mommy, it does," Matt whimpered, stroking himself with his toy. "So much better than my hand," he whined, picking up speed. You felt a wet warmth pooling between your thighs as you watched Matt pleasuring himself.

You couldn't get enough of the way he looked through the window, his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open as more delighted groans poured from his pretty lips. "Keep going. You're such a good boy," you praised him through the phone. "Mommy, please. You're making me dangerously close," Matt whined, fervently jerking himself off with his toy while he basked in your words. "Not yet, baby. Don't cum just yet," you responded quietly. He let out a pained sigh and slowed down his movements to keep himself from finishing too quickly, but he found himself bucking his hips up to continue the wonderful sensation.

"Mommy, can't stop. Mmm. Feels too good," Matt whimpered. You took in the sight of him across the way, tending to his needy cock. "You got this, baby. Hold out just a little bit longer," you cooed into the phone. Matt used every ounce of discipline to keep himself from teetering over the edge as he buried his cock deep into his toy. "Mommy, I keep imagining it's you," he said in a breathy voice. "Don't you dare cum until I say so," you replied in a soft, sensual tone. "Please," he begged. He started picking up speed again, flirting with the idea of finishing despite not having been given permission.

"No, no. Not yet," you teased. He couldn't get enough of the slippery material inside the fleshlight, and the way it fit around his cock so snugly, wondering if that's how you'd feel wrapped around him. With every stroke, he felt himself nearing the tipping point. "Mommy, need to cum. I am begging," he desperately pleaded with you. "Good boy. You waited so patiently. You can cum now. Cum for mommy," you directed him. "Thank you, mommy. Thank you," he whimpered.

His dick started twitching as the knot in his stomach gave way. All his muscles tightened as he finished pumping his cock, blowing his load into his toy until it started dripping out, coating his length with his milky white substance. "Fuck. That was so hot," you told him, rubbing yourself through your panties while he caught his breath. He playfully giggled into the phone.

taglist: @gabri3la-sturns @lowkeyobsessedwthesturniolos @starzinasblog @mattsturns09 @sluttt4matt @heartsforsturniolo567 @nomusic-nodreams @freakbob15 @valkatriee @lyla-rose05 @savannah00 @shadowthesim @clara-sangster @slimshiesty @mattybearskitten @chrissturns-wife @sturnl0ve @poolover123 @geniusbean @secretfangirly @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @jaysturniolo @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl

"This toy is amazing. I've gotta go clean this up."

part four posted 💖

[8mitsurikanroji8]

𝒦𝓃𝓎 𝒞𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

ɪɴꜰᴏ : ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼

𝘛𝘢𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰. 𝘡𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶. 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘦. 𝘔𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 . 𝘚𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪 . 𝘖𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘪 . 𝘎𝘪𝘺𝘶 . 𝘒𝘺𝘰𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘰 . 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘪. 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘣𝘶.

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𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Not obvious at all ?

. He’s a sweatheart to everyone he meets ahem Tanjiro effect?

. Blushes whenever you get close ><

. Would offer moments with you

. “Y/n want to eat together ?” “Y/n want to train together?” “Y/n want to take a stroll” etc

. You think nothing of it but for him his heart beats fast and is comforted by these actions

. Doesn’t realize he has a crush on you

. Just thinks you have an amazing personality that draws him in

. It’s just that, right ?

. He finally gets the hint when you guys were alone on a stroll catching the sunset. He caught himself staring at you while smiling as you stood and watched the sun fall, painting the sky orange

. His face goes RED when he realizes ><

. He turns away trying to calm himself down

. You notice, concerned, you take your hand and put it on his face thinking he has a fever

. Faces is literally fire

. Other than that you don’t really realize his feelings for you as he seems to be the same. Only asking for more time with you and more blushing but your mind waves it off

. Little do you know he stares at you while your mind is adrift thinking

. His heart beats fast and his eyes soften

. Yep. He likes you.

𝐙𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Now this one you KNOW [ Sorta ]

. I mean he ask you to marry him only 2 minutes in meeting for the first time

. “YOURE THE PRETTIEST GIRL I HAVE EVER MET. PLEASE MARRY ME!”

. You are dumbfounded with his open admiration

. A little flatter? Yes. Caught off guard ? 100%

. Soon within getting to know him you learn of his lovely dovey personality

. Realizing he is like this with every girl you push aside his comments of marriage and admiration

. I mean he would say that to any one, right ?

. Wrong [ also right tho >< ]

. He would say this to almost every girl he’s met

. But after you ? Oh honey

. You don’t realize how he’s actually fallen for you. Deeply

. Follows you around like a duck

. Someone criticize you [ Even if it’s just critiquing so you know what to work on ]

. That person will not hear the end of it

. “Y/N IS THE BEST PERSON EVER AND IS THE GREATEST DEMON SLAYER SO YOU SHUT UP!”

. Cringey ? Mhm. Cute ? A little.

. If you use sweet words to him [ You mostly say them to everyone tho ] like “honey” “sweetie” “cutie” “sweetheart”

. What color do you want your wedding bouquet?

. He’s planning it all

𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know and neither does he ._.

.”FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW. LETS SEE WHO WINS!”

. That’s something you will never hear the end of

. He has no idea about what a crush is nor love

. He just thinks you’re a good fighter and wants to fight you whenever he can

. And you just think he’s being his normal weird self :)

. You don’t mind it [ usually ]

. He likes to eat with you

. If you both are heading to a mission and forget to pack yourself food

. He will eat his infront of you and say

. “HAHA IDIOT”

. You roll your eyes ignoring him

. Suddenly his food is being shoved down your throat no comment added

. You better not ask about it

. Your ears won’t be able to handle anymore of his yelling blabber

. But you take his action to heart and enjoy it

. His face is a bit pink

. BUT only because his boar head is warm, right ?

. Sureeee ._.

𝐌𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Who are you again ?

. Oh right. The one who gives him the hebegebees

. Jkjkjk

. well

. He’s too lost in the clouds to realize his feelings for you or even realize you’re the only one who’s company doesn’t annoy him or pushes away

. And you don’t realize because his vocabulary is just so grand

. “Mhm” “No” “Yes “I believe so” “What did you say?” “I assume” “Could be” “I have no opinion”

. You tag along him to the point where others know

. “Oh there’s Muichiro. Y/n must be near”

. And vice versa

. He doesn’t realize how close together you guys alway are

. When you’re away on a mission he finds himself with a unfamiliar feelings

. Oh you’re back! Never mind the feeling is gone nothing to worry about !

. You just like his character and enjoy spending time with him

. He won’t realize but he thinks the same

. And more ><

. Both of these are unaware to you and him

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. Oh boy

. You may be strong both physically and mentally

. You’re enduring both his need to constantly train and his vicious tongue

. You most likely match his adittuide

. Oh he’s got something to say? So do you

. Everyone believes he HATES you

. I mean he does insult you and always wants to fight

. Poor guy doesn’t know what it is he’s feeling

. He didn’t really see romantic love in his childhood

. So he just stuffs those fast heart beat, pink cheeks and fuzzy feeling deep down and try’s to ignore it

. He doesn’t realize but one of the reason he always want to spear with you is because you guys spend close time together

. Also because he’s Sanemi

. And you being you, you don’t mind and take it as another challenge to conquer

𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You talk and he doesn’t

. Perfect match <3

. Here goes another damage one !

. His love language is definitely quality time

. You’re eating ? Under [ or up ] a tree? Simply walking around the garden ?

. Oh look there he is too!

. He definitely catches on to his physical and emotional reactions to you

. And you just thinks you guys are the closets of friends !

. You guys always seem to travel together

. Even in your free time you are found with him strolling around a village together

. Some one insults you?

. You’ll just ignore it and move on

. He doesn’t. Pray for that person.

. Kaburamaru seems to have also found a fondness for you

. He may be jealous of that fact

𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You don’t know what the others are talking about

. Giyu is lovely to talk to !

. He may be one of your favorite hasira to spend time with ♡

. He’s gentle and kind spoken [ with his little use of words ]

. He pays for your meals no matter how hard you insist and listen to you ramble for hours on end with no sign of annoyence

. Why would the others hate him?

. He’s like this with everyone, right ?

. Oh honey.

. You take these actions as part of his character, while he assume he act this way because of his admiration for you being so nice to him !

. I mean you are one of the few who do talk to him without insult

. It never clicks for him what the feeling really is

. That’s until one day

. [ Shinobu ] “Good evening Tomioka”

. [ Giyu ] “Evening Shinobu”

. [ Shinobu ] “You look as bland and boring as ever. How are you”

. [ Giyu ] *no answer*

. [ Shinobu ] “I must say without your little friend you somehow appear more dull. It is odd to catch a moment with you two apart”

. [ Giyu ] *nothing*

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “It’s almost like you two are in a romantic relationship with how close you are.”

. His heart stops with that comment

. And his brain finally realize the feeling

. I mean he’s never felt this way before ♡

. His eyes trail off and soften, catching Shinobu attention

. [ Shinobu ] *Giggles* “ I was only just kidding. It’s not like someone like Y/n could admire your dull personality”

. Oh. Right.

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐨 ⋆˙⟡♡

. “YOU ARE ONE SKILLED SLAYER” “I ADMIRE YOUR TECHNIQUES” “GREAT JOB” “YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE SKILLS” “WONDERFUL WORK”

. He praises you non stop

. I mean who wouldn’t with your talent !

. You take his compliments as a part of his cheerful personality and respect it

. And maybe take a bit of flattery with it ><

. He does too

. He just admires you skill is all

…….

. He offers to dine with you or take you out to eat

. “Y/N WOULD YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME AND DINE WITH ME!?”

. [ You ] “Oh um, sure okay!”

. “SPLENDID, LETS GET ON OUR WAY!”

. He always ask where you are

. Remembers the small things

. You like that color ? Oh look he just bought you a keychain with it. That’s your favorite food? Guess that’s where you guys are eating tonight

. His acts of romantic feelings fly over both of your guys head

. But not to anybody else

. *Kyojuro and you side by side laughing together*

. [ Slayer 1 ] “Are they together?”

. [ Slayer 2 ] “isn’t it obvious ?”

𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐢 ⋆˙⟡♡

. You guys are actually inspectable

. Always together <3

. She loves your company !

. Mitsuri finds everything about you adorable

. From they way you eat to your fighting techniques

. You make her feel safe ♡

. More touchy with you than others [ expect hugs, face pokes and hand holding when she’s around ]

. She definitely realizes her feelings for you

. She is the love hashira after all

. But she doesn’t act on it afraid you won’t feel the same and forever ruin the relationship you guys already have

. She’s oblivious to the shared love you have for one another

. *Mitsuri thoughts* Oh they just see me as a friend

. Mhm okay ._.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐮 ⋆˙⟡♡

. This one is a slow burn

. Every mission with you she seems to oddly enjoy

. Whenever you walk into her estate she feels a warmth

. Her heart flutters whenever you hug her or compliment her

. Your smile makes her smile

. She always watches you [ not in a creepy way >< ]

. She just finds herself drunk on the way your eyes light up

. Once it hits her why she feel this way poor girl try’s to ignore it

. Afraid to allow herself to get too close in this field of work

. But the heart wants what is wants ♡

. You begin to dine after missions together

. Have light conversation when running into each other

. And occasionally meet ups outside of work

. She compliments you often

. Once you start to spend more time together she will accidentally graze her hand over you thigh or your fingers just to see you reaction

. This girl knows what she’s doing

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A/n

ᴀʜʜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ !! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ <3 ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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[ch0llies]

ROCK ME | CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO

oneshot - sunshine!reader x goldenboy!chris

Your relationship with Chris Sturniolo is the epitome of a first teenage love. It’s late night drives with the music too loud, whispered secrets under the covers, and sneaking into each other's houses just to fall asleep wrapped up in each other. It’s the kind of love that feels like summer. It’s warm, wild, and infinite. But with him, it’s not just a season. It’s all year round.

story warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial (if you squint), fluff, established relationship, etc. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 10k (sorry)

The wind rushes through your beach-waved hair, the summer heat warming your body as laughter bubbles past your lips. The bass from the speakers vibrates through your chest. You’re weightless, golden, and free, just like the setting sun in the sky.

Chris lighty grips the steering wheel with one hand, the other draped lazily over the console between you. His black Ray-Bans sit low on his nose, and he tilts his head slightly, peeking over the frames to catch a glimpse of you.

That signature smirk tugs at his lips- the one that got you hooked in the first place, the one that still makes your stomach flip, the one you could never say no to.

The warm glow of the sun catches on his skin, highlighting the freckles scattered across his nose. He looks so effortlessly beautiful. The kind of boy you’d write songs about. You have no idea how he’s yours.

You’re wearing nothing but an orange string bikini top and a pair of light-wash denim shorts, the fabric rough against your sunburnt skin. Chris isn’t wearing much more. Just pink swim trunks and a backward Somerville High cap, a reminder of your life beyond these summer nights.

But you don’t want to think about that.

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you shift onto your knees, climbing onto the center console. Chris barely has a second to react before you’re pushing yourself up and out through the open sunroof, arms spreading wide as the night swallows you whole.

The second your head breaches the top, you scream- loud and free, the sound ripping through the air and blending with the music. The wind hits you harder than you thought, stealing the breath from your lungs, pushing the extra skin on your face back. The sky stretches out above you, painted in deep pinks and oranges.

Chris’s laughter rumbles beneath you, but his grip is firm when he slides a hand up your waist, fingers pressing against the bare skin just above your shorts. “Be careful, baby,” he yells, his voice barely carrying over the wind, but you hear it. You feel it. The warmth of his palm spreads across your skin, grounding you even as you chase the high of the moment.

You tip your head back, hair tangling messily in the wind, letting out another breathless laugh. The music is deafening, the bass pounding through your body, but all you can focus on is the feeling- the reckless, intoxicating freedom of being here, with him, like this. In love.

Chris’s fingers trace slow circles against your side, his grip tightening as if to remind you he’s there. He’s always there. “You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he mutters, but there’s no real frustration in his voice.

You dip your head forward, glancing down at him through strands of hair, your chest rising and falling with the adrenaline still buzzing through you. “At least I’d die happy,” you tease, voice breathless, full of laughter.

Chris shakes his head, lips tugging into a smirk. “Not happening,” he says, his fingers grazing up your ribs, sending a shiver through you despite the summer heat. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The world feels endless up here, with the wind in your hair, the night sky stretching out forever. But nothing compares to the way Chris’s hands feel against your skin- warm, steady, always there.

You don’t have to look down to know he’s watching you, the way he always does. Like he can’t believe you’re real. He really should be looking at the road but you’re not even mad.

Chris is the golden boy of Somerville High. Captain of the lacrosse team, hometown hero, the kind of guy teachers brag about long after he’s left their classrooms. The guy everyone wants to be, wants to know, wants to love. He walks down the halls like he belongs to them, like Somerville itself is stitched into his skin, and maybe it is.

And you?

You’re the sunshine girl. The one who gets along with everyone, who turns strangers into friends with nothing but a smile. The girl who gets good grades without trying too hard, who sings too loud at parties, who dances barefoot in the grass just because she can. You’re golden in a different way- soft and bright, light spilling into every room you walk into.

Maybe that’s why it never made sense. Why people still don’t get it. But you do. You know how it happened.

You know it started long before anyone else had noticed. Before the stolen glances, before the late-night drives, before he whispered your name like a secret he never wanted to share.

It started in eighth grade, when he caught you skipping class to sit in the empty stands of the football field, watching the sky instead of paying attention to anything else. He sat next to you without a word, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You get lost up there too?” he’d asked, nodding toward the clouds.

You’d just smiled, something soft, something easy. “Yeah,” you’d said. “Guess I do.”

It started freshman year, when he saw you crying behind the gym after another boy on the lacrosse team that you had a crush on asked a different girl to hoco. And instead of making some dumb joke, he just sat with you. Shoulder to shoulder, silence stretching between you, solid and safe.

It started sophomore year, at some house party, when the music was too loud and the air was too thick and his eyes…God, his eyes. They were locked on you like you were the only thing worth looking at. You don’t remember who kissed who first. Maybe it was both of you, leaning in at the same time, laughter turning into something else, something breathless.

You do remember the way he groaned against your lips, the way his hands tangled in your hair like he’d been waiting for this for years. The way he lifted you, effortlessly and careless, and pressed you against the wall like he was never going to let you go.

But that was nothing compared to the first time.

Junior year. The backseat of his Jeep, parked down by the beach, the moon high in the sky. Your body still damp from the water, his skin burning hot against yours. He looked at you like he was afraid to blink, like he needed to memorize everything. The curve of your lips, the tilt of your chin, the way your breath hitched when he traced lazy circles on your hip.

“I’ve never-” you’d started, but he kissed the words right out of your mouth, slow and deep and reverent.

“I know,” he murmured, forehead resting against yours. “Me neither.”

Then he was everywhere, hands and lips and warmth and the most intimate parts of him. And you were his, in a way that felt bigger than a single night. In a way that felt like forever.

Now, here you are. The summer before senior year.

You drop back down into your seat, breathless, the rush still buzzing through your veins. Chris doesn’t let go of you, doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed. Instead, he rubs slow circles into your sunburnt skin, his thumb brushing over the edge of your bikini top, something soft in his touch.

You turn your head, watching him as he drives, golden and effortless.

“What?” he asks, side-eyeing you.

You shrug, grinning. “Just thinking about how unfair it is that you’re so pretty.”

Chris snorts, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck. “You’re one to talk, baby.”

Your life is made up of moments like this. Soft, sweet, and beautiful. All because of him.

Like the time he helped you pick your dress for junior year prom.

You’d dragged him to the boutique, standing on the fitting room pedestal while he lounged in one of the chairs, arms crossed over his chest, looking entirely out of place among the frilly pink decor.

“You know I don’t care what you wear, baby,” he’d grumbled, watching as you stepped out in another dress. “You’d look good in anything.”

“You have to care,” you insisted, spinning around so the skirt flared out. “I need honest opinions.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but there was something soft in his gaze as he studied you. Then he stood, walked over, and reached out to tug at the orange fabric, his fingers brushing your exposed back.

“This one,” he said simply, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. “Wear this one.”

And when prom night came, when you stepped out of your house and into the golden glow of the streetlights, Chris just stood there, blinking like he forgot how to breathe.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me.”

Or the time he came on vacation with your family.

You had spent weeks convincing your parents, listing all the reasons why bringing your boyfriend wouldn’t be an issue.

“He’s basically part of the family already,” you argued.

And maybe that was true, but you were still surprised when they agreed, letting Chris tag along to your beach house rental for a week in July.

It was like a dream. Waking up to the sound of the waves, sneaking out of the room your parents assigned Chris. And especially the mornings you’d both sneak out of the house just before sunrise, Chris pulling you into the water before the world was even awake.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, legs wrapped around his waist as the tide lapped against your skin.

Chris just grinned, his hands holding you tight, safe. “Yeah. insanely in love with you.”

And then, of course, there were the lacrosse games.

You went to every single one, always in the front row, always wearing his number on your cheek in red glitter paint.

Chris had his routine. Right before a game, right before he ran onto the field, he’d find you in the crowd. You’d blow him a kiss, and he’d pretend to catch it, pressing his fingers to his lips like it was some kind of good luck charm.

“You know I have to do that, right?” he’d told you once, breathless after a win, sweat dripping down his temples. “Superstition. Can’t play without it.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, reaching up to push his damp hair out of his eyes. “So you winning is all me, huh?”

Chris grinned, looping his arms around your waist. “Exactly.” Then, without warning, he picked you up, spinning you in circles until you were shrieking with laughter. “You’re my good luck charm, sunshine.”

And then there was that time. The time that haunts you to this day. The time his parents walked in on you.

Chris’s bedroom. His hands in your hair, your nails digging into his shoulders, both of you breathless, caught up in each other, making far too much noise, until the door opened.

You didn’t even have time to react before MaryLou gasped, spinning on her heel so fast she nearly fell over.

“Jesus Christ, Christopher,” was all she said before slamming the door.

Chris just groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We’re so dead.”

The next day, he came home to a box of condoms sitting on his bed. No note. Nothing.

He held them up when you walked in, blinking like he was still in shock. “My parents hate me. I don’t know how I can ever look my mother in the eye again.”

You burst into laughter, doubling over on his bed. “I think they just don’t want grandkids yet.”

Chris groaned, tossing the box across the room. “Unbelievable.”

You had laughed then, breathless and teasing, throwing yourself back onto his bed. But that was months ago.

Chris was still driving with one hand on the wheel, the other now resting against your thigh. His fingers trace slow, lazy patterns over your skin, dipping just beneath the frayed edges of your denim shorts. It’s an innocent touch, but your body reacts like it always does. He has completely burned himself into you.

The warmth of his palm seeps into your skin, his thumb brushing back and forth, featherlight, like he’s not even thinking about it. But you know Chris, know the way his mind works, the way his hands move with purpose, even when he pretends they don’t.

You shift slightly in your seat, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to ignore the slow fire building under his touch. Chris notices, of course he notices, and his smirk deepens, barely visible in the dimming light.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asks, voice smooth, teasing.

You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t carry much weight. Not when your pulse is hammering against your ribs, not when the song “Rock Me” playing through the speakers seems to fit too well, like fate decided to soundtrack this exact moment.

You glance at him, and God, he’s so mesmerizing. One hand gripping the wheel, muscles taut beneath sun-kissed skin, his jaw sharp in the golden light. His lips are parted slightly, tongue running over his bottom one like he’s deep in thought.

Like he’s remembering, too.

“Do you remember summer ’09? Wanna go back there every night…”

Chris exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Remember this song?”

Your heart flutters, something deep and wanting. You know what he’s thinking.

You remember that night. It was after a lacrosse game, after driving three hours to the playoff game that he scored the game winning goal in. Somehow, you ended up tangled in his backseat, hands desperate, mouths hungry.

Your voice had been breathless against his ear. “I want you to rock me, Chris.”

And he did. Again and again and again.

The memory makes heat curl in your stomach, makes your breath catch just slightly, and Chris knows. His fingers flex against your thigh, grip tightening just enough to make your skin prickle with anticipation.

You turn to face him fully, shifting so your knee brushes against the gearshift.

“You’re such a tease,” you murmur, eyes locked onto him.

Chris grins, slow and dangerous. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His hand slides just a little higher, not quite enough, but enough.

You suck in a sharp breath, and he laughs, that soft, lazy laugh that always makes your stomach flip.

The song builds, the chorus swelling, wrapping around you both.

“I want you to hit the pedal heavy metal, show me you care…”

Chris leans in slightly, voice dropping lower. “Sing it for me, baby.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to fight the smile threatening to break free. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

He just squeezes your thigh again, dragging his fingers in slow, torturous circles. “And yet, you’re still in love with me.”

And God, you are. Wildly, recklessly, endlessly in love with him.

Chris just grins, the kind that’s all mischief and golden-boy charm, the kind that makes your stomach flip even after all this time. His fingers linger on your thigh, slow and deliberate, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand off playfully, even though you already miss the warmth of his touch. “Pay attention to the road before we crash, golden boy.”

He snorts, but obliges, turning his focus back ahead as the Jeep glides down the quiet summer streets. The sun has nearly disappeared now, the sky shifting from honey-gold to deep navy, the kind of night that feels endless, the kind that makes you believe you’ll never have to grow up.

Then, as if reading your mind, Chris leans back, one hand lazily resting on the wheel, the other drumming against your thigh again. “You hungry?”

Your stomach growls at the mention, making him laugh, and you groan, slumping into the seat. “Shut up.”

Chris shakes his head, reaching for the console to turn down the music. “Nah, this is why I keep you around. You’re so cute when you’re mad.”

You swat at his arm, and he catches your wrist easily, pulling your knuckles to his lips for a quick, teasing kiss.

“McDonald’s?” he suggests, voice light, like he already knows the answer.

Your eyes narrow. “You just want an excuse to get a large fry and make me feed them to you while you drive.”

Chris shrugs, smirking. “And?”

And ten minutes later, you’re sitting in the McDonald’s drive-thru, Chris rattling off the usual order—two large fries, a ten-piece McNugget, a McDouble for him, and a vanilla milkshake for you. It’s routine by now, muscle memory. You don’t even have to ask for extra napkins, because Chris already grabs them, stuffing them in the glove box where he knows you’ll need them later.

The second he pulls out of the parking lot, he’s already reaching into the bag, shoving a fry into his mouth.

“Hey, those are mine,” you scold, reaching over to smack his hand away.

Chris just laughs, shoving another one in his mouth before holding a fry up to your lips, eyebrows raised expectantly. You huff but take a bite anyway.

The drive back is comfortable in the way only summer nights can be. You hum along to the song he had playing on aux, dipping fries into your milkshake, and Chris sneaks sips of it every time you aren’t looking even though you secretly know he does it.

By the time you pull into his driveway, the house is quiet, the lights off except for the faint glow from the kitchen window. His parents are asleep and his brothers probably are too.

Chris shifts into park, then turns to you, smirking. “Wanna come in?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Like you have to ask.”

He grins, pushing open his door before jogging around to yours, yanking it open with dramatic flair. “M’lady,” he teases, offering his hand.

You roll your eyes but take it anyway, letting him pull you out before he slams the door shut as quietly as possible. You both make your way to the side of the house, where Chris knows exactly which windows creak, which steps to avoid.

By the time you sneak upstairs and get to his bedroom, Chris is already kicking off his shoes and tossing his hat onto his desk before he goes to his closet and put on a random teeshirt.

You plop onto his bed, stealing a handful of fries from the bag. “You know,” you say between bites, “your parents definitely know we do this.”

Chris flops down beside you, pressing his head into your shoulder dramatically. “Yeah, well, after the whole condom thing, I think they’ve just accepted it.”

You laugh, turning your face into his hair, inhaling the faint scent of saltwater. “You’re never getting over that, huh?”

Chris groans. “I still can’t look my mother in the eye sometimes. It’s so awkward. She definitely saw my dick.”

“She birthed and raised you. She’s already seen you naked.” You laugh.

“Yeah but that’s different!” He exclaims in a whisper, digging his head even further into your shoulder.

You laugh, before setting the food aside and turning toward him fully. He lifts his head from you and his eyes flicker to yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades. The room is dimly lit, the only glow coming from his bedside lamp, casting everything in a soft, golden hue.

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of your tangled beachy hair behind your ear. “You tired?”

You shake your head, voice softer now. “No.”

Chris nods, thumb grazing the curve of your cheek before he leans in, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips. It’s not hurried, not rushed like it so often is. It’s sweet, gentle- like he’s savoring it, savoring you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“I love you so much, my beautiful girl,” he murmurs.

You smile, fingers curling into the fabric of his t-shirt. “I love you too, baby.”

Chris exhales softly, his breath warm against your lips, his hands never leaving your skin.

His thumb strokes gently over your cheekbone, tracing invisible patterns like he’s memorizing you all over again.

You lean in first this time, tilting your chin just enough to capture his lips again. It’s slow. So slow, like neither of you are in any rush, like you have forever to get lost in each other. His mouth moves with yours effortlessly, no desperation, no urgency. Just warmth. Just love.

Chris sighs into the kiss, pulling you closer, his hands sliding down to your waist, fingers pressing into the soft skin below your bikini.

You shift, pressing yourself closer, and he groans softly in response, deep in his throat. The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his t-shirt.

He feels so good, smells so good, and you could stay here forever, tangled in him.

Chris tilts his head, deepening the kiss just slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. His hand spreads even further across the warm expanse of your back, his touch setting fire to your skin.

You sigh against his lips, melting into him as his other hand skims up your thigh. His fingertips brush along the frayed hem of your shorts, not pushing, just feeling, just reveling in the warmth of you.

When you pull back for air, his lips chase yours, barely letting you breathe before he’s pressing soft, lazy kisses along your jaw, down the curve of your neck.

“Chris,” you whisper, and he hums against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps down your arms.

“Hmm?” he murmurs, lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You don’t answer, just tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans again, a sound that always makes your stomach tighten, makes your thighs squeeze around his hips.

His hands slide to your waist, gripping gently as he guides you into his lap, settling you over him like you belong there- like he’s been waiting for this, for you, all night.

You both pause, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync.

His hands are steady on you, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin, and when he looks up at you, his eyes are heavy, dark with something deeper than just desire.

Love.

“I jus’ wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs, voice thick, fingers tracing along your spine. “Wanna kiss you slow. Wanna make you feel good.”

Your heart stutters, your body burning with something softer than lust, something heavier than need.

You press another kiss to his lips. Slow and deep and meaningful.

“Then do it.” you whisper against his mouth.

Chris doesn’t need to be told twice.

The moment the words leave your lips, he groans deep and low, something that rumbles through his chest and straight into your core. His hands tighten on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he tilts his head and devours you.

The softness melts into something new, something desperate and raw as he kisses you harder, mouth parting against yours, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip before slipping inside. It’s slow, but there’s an edge now- a hunger, a need.

His hands slide up your back, slipping beneath your bikini top, his thumbs grazing over your ribs and to the front, right over the softest parts of you. You shudder, pressing closer, gasping when he bites your lip, tugging just enough to make your stomach clench.

“Chris,” you breathe, and he hums before flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion.

His body is heavy over yours, deliciously warm, his hips pressing into you as his lips move down your jaw, down your neck, sucking and kissing until your skin is marked with his touch.

You arch into him, hands gripping at his back, before pulling at the hem of teeshirt. He gets the hint pretty quickly and rips it off before diving right back into you.

“You make me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, lips ghosting over your collarbone before he’s tugging at the strings of your bikini top, undoing them with agonizing slowness.

You shiver, anticipation burning through you as his hands slide beneath the fabric, pushing it aside, palms gliding over your bare skin.

Chris exhales harshly, pulling back just enough to look at you. To really look at you. His pupils are blown, lips swollen from kissing you, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to keep himself under control.

“Goddamn,” he breathes, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

You don’t get the chance to respond before his mouth is on you again, his head trailing lower, lower, leaving a path of heat down your torso.

Your back arches when his lips brush against your nipples, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly.

“Chris,” you gasp, breathless, already wrecked from just his mouth, his hands, the way he touches you.

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips as he presses a kiss just above the waistband of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick, grinning with mischief. “I wanna hear you say it.”

You bite your lip, hips shifting beneath him, your body begging for more, but Chris is waiting, his eyes locked onto yours, watching every reaction, every little movement you make.

So you give him what he wants.

“I want you to rock me,” you whisper.

Chris groans, dropping his forehead against your stomach for half a second, like your words just wrecked him.

Then, he looks up at you, and his expression is nothing but pure, unfiltered lust.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. “Anything you want.”

Chris’s lips trail lower, leaving a path of heat down your stomach, his breath warm against your skin. His hands are everywhere but they’re so fucking slow and deliberate. His fingers tracing over your hips, brushing the frayed hem of your shorts. His eyes flick up to meet yours, dark and wanting.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. “Can I take these off?” he murmurs, voice low, rough with restraint.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

“Need you to say it, baby.”

“Yes,” you whisper, voice barely audible, but it’s all he needs.

Chris groans softly, dragging the denim down your legs, the slow feeling of fabric moving against your heated skin making your core wetter. When he finally tosses them aside, his eyes roam over you, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he can’t believe you’re real.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands sliding up your thighs, spreading them slightly as he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then higher, higher.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, breath coming in uneven pants as he moves closer, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Baby,” you breathe, and he hums in response, lips brushing against the last piece of fabric between you.

You lift your hips instinctively, silently begging, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “So impatient,” he teases, but his voice is thick, strained and you can tell he’s just as desperate as you.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, dragging them down with the same agonizing slowness, his lips following the path they leave behind. When they’re finally gone, when there’s nothing left between you, he just looks at you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for him.

“I’ll never get tired of this,” he murmurs, completely wrecked and full of nothing but love.

A gasp rips from your throat as his mouth moves against you, soft and slow and perfect.

His tongue slides up and down your folds, separating them and pushing his face even deeper into you if possible.

His hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as his tongue finds flicks against the most sensitive part of you, drawing a moan from your lips that makes him groan in response.

He loves this. Loves the way you tremble beneath him, the way you say his name like it’s the only thing you know.

“Chris- fuck.” Your fingers find his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against you, the vibration sending sparks down your spine.

He takes his time, savoring every reaction, every shaky breath, every whisper of his name. It’s slow and unhurried, like he wants to memorize you, like he needs to.

His tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes at first, teasing, tasting, savoring every inch of you. He groans into you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound alone is almost enough to make you fall apart.

But you don’t want it to end yet. And neither does he.

His nose presses against your clit at such a delicious angle as his tongue moves in and out of you, setting a ruthless pace- the pace he knows you need, the one that drives you crazy, the one that has your thighs shaking against his shoulders.

Chris moans against you, gripping your hips harder, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough. Like he needs you more than air.

And God, he’s so deep, his face buried between your thighs, the heat of his mouth sending sparks all through your body. You’re gasping, your fingers tugging at his hair, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t let up.

You whimper, arching against his tongue, and the cocky bastard grins against you before diving back in, licking into you like it’s his last meal.

“Chris,” you gasp, voice wrecked, breathless.

His grip on you tightens, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Mmm?” he hums, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through your body.

You whimper again, unable to form words, unable to do anything but take what he’s giving you.

Chris pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips glistening, pupils blown. He smirks, dragging two fingers through your slick folds before slipping them inside, curling them just right, making you cry out.

“There we go,” he murmurs, watching your face twist in pleasure. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

You can barely breathe, barely think, as he starts moving his fingers in slow, deliberate strokes, his mouth returning to your clit, wrapping around it and sucking softly before licking over again and again.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging hard, and he moans into you.

“Baby,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out.

Chris just grins against you, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers thrusting deeper.

And fuck, you’re so close but he knows your body too well. Knows exactly when to stop, exactly when to pull back, leaving you on the edge, aching for more.

You whine in protest, hips bucking up to chase his mouth, but Chris just smirks, pressing a teasing kiss to your inner thigh.

“Not yet, ma,” he murmurs, voice dark, wrecked. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Moments later he dives right back in. His tongue is everywhere, working in you with slow, teasing flicks one second and deep, dragging strokes the next. His fingers pump into you at a perfect pace, curling just right, pressing into that spongy spot that has you moaning his name like a prayer.

He loves it when you moan his name. Loves the way your body responds to him, the way your thighs twitch around his head, the way you can’t stop moving and arching into his touch, chasing his mouth, desperate for more.

Your fingers are buried in his hair, tugging, pulling, and he groans against you, pushing you further into the mattress at the same time without even thinking about it.

The vibrations shoot through your core, send a spark of electricity down your spine, and suddenly, you’re right there. Right on the edge, breath coming in broken gasps, body trembling.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he doubles down, fingers fucking into you harder, his tongue relentless, determined to push you over that final edge.

“That’s it, mama,” he murmurs, words muffled against your soaked skin. “Give it to me. Wanna hear you.”

His voice is practically a moan that’s full of pure need, and that’s what does it. His voice, his mouth, his hands- everything.

Your body seizes up, a sharp gasp ripping from your throat as the orgasm crashes over you, hard. Pleasure pulses through you in waves, your back arching off the bed, your thighs tightening around his head, but Chris doesn’t stop.

He groans as he licks you through it, his hands gripping your shaking thighs, his tongue still working you over, dragging every last bit of pleasure from your body until you’re whimpering, too sensitive, too overstimulated to take any more.

You tug at his hair, trying to pull him away, but he presses one last kiss against your soaked skin before finally, finally lifting his head.

Chris looks like he just fell from heaven. His lips are swollen, glistening, his pupils blown wide, his breath coming in ragged pants.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning as he moves up your body, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone.

When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You sigh against his mouth, fingers still tangled in his hair, your body boneless beneath him.

Chris chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Goddamn, baby,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “You’re so fucking hot when you come on my mouth.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch your breath, and Chris just kisses you again.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your hip.

You were still feeling the after effects of your orgasm, chest rising and falling rapidly, skin burning from his touch, his mouth, him. But as the haze of pleasure started to clear, you noticed something else, something that made heat flood your stomach all over again.

Chris was rubbing himself against the mattress.

It was subtle, but once you saw it, you couldn’t not see it. The way his hips pressed into the bed, slow and desperate, his breathing just a little too uneven, his grip on you just a little too tight. His jaw was clenched, brows furrowed, his body tense like he was trying to hold himself back.

“Chris,” you whisper, realization hitting you all at once.

Chris huffs out a breathless laugh, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, like maybe he could hide from how completely fucking gone he is for you.

“Shut up,” he mutters, voice strained, like he’s embarrassed, like he can’t help it.

You feel another rush of heat pool between your legs, because fuck, he looks so good like this. Flushed and desperate, still clothed while you’re bare beneath him, his self-control hanging by a thread.

“You get off on eating me out?” you tease, running your nails lightly down his back, feeling the way he shudders at the touch.

Chris groans, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Ma-”

Your fingers dip lower, tracing the waistband of his swim trunks, and his whole body jerks, his hips pressing down harder into the bed.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut, but it does nothing to hide the way he ruts into the mattress again, like he needs it.

You grin, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re so hot when you’re needy.”

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips harder, like he’s trying to keep himself from losing it. “I’m about two seconds away from ruining these fucking shorts,” he admits, voice whinny.

You shiver at his words, your own arousal sparking all over again. “Then take them off.”

Chris swears under his breath, kissing you hard, all tongue and teeth and desperation.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, forehead pressed against yours as his fingers fumble with the waistband of his trunks. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You giggle breathlessly, helping him push them down, and the second he’s free, you feel just how much he had been holding back, how worked up he is.

And God, you want him so bad.

Chris presses his lips to your jaw, your neck, everywhere, his body hovering over yours, his hand wrapping around himself as he exhales a shuddering breath.

Then, he looks down at you, pupils blown, expression full of nothing but pure, unfiltered hunger as you wrap a hand around his girthy length.

Chris groans, deep and guttural, his forehead pressing against yours as your words sink into his skin like fire. His fingers twitch against your waist, gripping just a little harder, like he’s trying to ground himself.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice wrecked, desperate. “Don’t do that. I’ll finish way too fast.”

You simply laugh but oblige, taking your hand off him. “You always say that but then last all goddamn night.”

He simply smiles down at you. And then he’s kissing you, messy and deep, his body pressing into yours, his hands roaming everywhere and gripping your thighs, your hips, your ribs, like he can’t get enough.

You whimper against his lips, still sensitive, still pulsing from the high he just pulled from your body, but it’s not enough. Not even close.

Chris must feel the way you shift beneath him, the way your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, because he grins against your mouth, his hips pressing down just enough to make you gasp.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, voice rough, laced with something dark and needy.

You nod, breathless, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Chris chuckles, low and knowing, his lips trailing down your jaw, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“You’re so greedy,” he murmurs, nipping at your throat, making you shiver. “So fucking sweet.”

His hands skim down your body, fingertips dancing over your waist before settling on your hips. His touch is warm, steady, as he spreads your legs further, settling between them like he belongs there. He knows he does.

Your heart is pounding, anticipation burning through your veins as he shifts, pressing his length against you, dragging his tip through your slick folds, teasing you, making you ache.

You whimper, tilting your hips up, desperate for more, and Chris moans, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“God, baby,” he rasps, rolling his hips just right, making your head tip back against the pillows. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You whine, fingers clutching at his back, nails digging in just enough to make him shudder.

“Chris,” you breathe, voice wrecked, full of want.

He exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours again, his hips rolling into yours at a slow, torturous pace.

“I got you, mama,” he murmurs, voice softer now, full of something deeper, something more.

And then he pushes inside you, slow and steady, stretching you perfectly, filling you inch by inch, until he’s buried deep, his chest heaving, his body trembling against yours.

Your breath catches, pleasure coiling through you at the sheer feeling of him.

Chris groans, his hands gripping your hips tight, his head dropping to the crook of your neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, voice muffled against your skin. “You feel so good. So tight.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his temple.

“Move,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath.

Chris lifts his head, his eyes locking onto yours. And then he rocks into you. Slow, deep, intentional.

His lips find yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you closer, pushing in deeper, making you feel everything.

You sigh into his mouth, body melting into his, completely lost in him, in this, in everything you are together.

Chris groans, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged, his movements slow and torturous.

“God, I love you,” he murmurs, hips rolling faster, voice thick with emotion, with need. “So fucking much.”

You gasp, clinging to him, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice shaking.

Chris moans at that, his pace picking up just slightly, just enough to make your toes curl, just enough to make you feel the depth of his love, his devotion, his everything.

The world outside ceases to exist but Chris doesn’t stop.

Not after you moan his name like it’s the only word you know. Not after your nails rake down his back, leaving behind marks that will be there for days. Not after he kisses you, slow and deep, like he wants to drown in you.

Not after he pulls another orgasm from you, his name spilling from your lips in a broken, desperate cry as your body clenches around him in a way that was almost painful.

If anything, it only makes him hungrier.

His lips never leave yours, even as he rides you through it, even as he groans into your mouth, hips stuttering, body trembling. But he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop.

He won’t stop until he’s given you everything.

Until the summer heat isn’t the only thing making you sweat. Until the only thing you can think about is him. The way he fills you, the way he ruins you, the way he worships you like you’re the only thing he’s ever believed in.

Chris exhales a ragged breath against your lips, slowing his thrusts just enough to make you shiver. His forehead presses against yours, his body heavy against you, but not in a way that suffocates. In a way that makes you feel safe. In a way that makes you feel like his.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs, voice rough, wrecked.

You nod, but it’s not enough for him.

Chris pulls back slightly, searching your face, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. “Talk to me,” he whispers.

You swallow hard, your fingers tracing down his spine, reveling in the way he shudders beneath your touch. “I want more.”

Chris groans, low and needy, like your words just broke him completely. “Fuck,” he breathes, his grip tightening on your hips. Then he flips you over.

You gasp, a surprised giggle slipping from your lips before Chris cuts it off with a kiss, pressing you into the mattress, his body covering yours. His hand slides up your spine, trailing goosebumps in its wake, before tangling in your hair, tilting your head to the side as his lips move to your neck.

“You sure you can handle another round?” he teases, dragging his teeth along your pulse point, making you whimper.

“Yes please,” you breathe.

Chris chuckles darkly against your skin, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the base of your neck before rolling his hips forward, sliding back inside you with ease.

You both moan at the feeling, the delicious stretch, the way your bodies mold together perfectly.

Chris grips your waist, holding you steady as he starts moving again, slow but deep, drawing out every sound he can.

“You feel so good, baby,” he mutters, voice husky, full of reverence. “So fucking tight and wet.”

Your head falls forward, pleasure sparking through every inch of you, your thighs trembling as Chris pounds into you, his name slipping from your lips like a mantra.

His pace picks up, hips snapping against yours, the headboard knocking softly against the wall with each thrust, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of your moans and his ragged breaths despite the fact his entire family lay sleeping behind the walls.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You were made for me.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, overstimulated, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris’s hand drifts lower, fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you in place as he ruins you.

“One more, baby,” he murmurs, voice dripping with want. “Give me one more.”

And you do. Your body tightens around him, your head falling back onto his shoulder as another orgasm crashes through you, sending sparks down your spine, making you tremble in his arms.

Chris groans, his grip tightening as he follows, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering moan, his body stiffening, then relaxing against you.

Silence settles between you for a moment, the only sound being the heavy rise and fall of your breaths.

Then Chris laughs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, arms still wrapped around you.

“You’re actually gonna kill me,” he mumbles, voice hoarse, spent.

You smile, turning your head slightly to catch his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Guess I’ll have to bring you back to life,” you whisper against his mouth and within seconds he has you flipped on your back and has slipped inside you, cock already hard again.

His skin warm and slick with sweat. His breath is heavy against your cheek, his lips barely ghosting over your jaw as he tries to steady himself, tries to regain control.

But there’s no control here.

Not when you’re beneath him, body still trembling from the pleasure he just wrung out of you, looking at him with those wide, needy eyes, lips swollen, chest rising and falling like you need him just as badly as he needs you.

Chris groans, dropping his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin lazily, but keeping himself buried inside you because he can’t pull away.

“I can’t stop,” he admits, voice low, desperate. His hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider, tilting your hips up just enough to make you whimper. “I don’t want to stop.”

You tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze, your fingers tangling in his messy, sweat-damp hair.

“Then don’t,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.

And fuck, that’s all it takes.

Chris kisses you hard, stealing the breath from your lungs as he starts moving again. He sets a deep, steady rhythm, pushing into you, filling you completely, making you feel every inch of him.

Your back arches, hands clutching at his shoulders, nails raking down his back, and Chris groans, rutting into you harder, deeper.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters against your lips, hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread as he rocks into you, slow and deep, like he needs you to feel this, to know how much he wants you.

Your head tips back against the pillow, a whimper slipping from your lips, and Chris takes the opportunity to drag his tongue down your neck, sucking and kissing, leaving marks he knows you’ll complain about tomorrow.

His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive peaks, making you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist.

Chris grins, pressing another kiss to your lips. “You’re so fucking sensitive, ma,” he teases, voice wrecked. “Still not over the first one, huh?”

You shake, legs trembling, body overstimulated but still aching for more.

“Chris,” you breathe, tugging him closer.

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts, dragging out every ounce of pleasure.

“Say it,” he mutters, voice dark, demanding. His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches, your nails digging into his arms as he keeps going, his pace slow but ruinous, building you up again, bringing you to that edge.

“More,” you gasp.

Chris smirks, but there’s nothing cocky about it this time. It’s adoration, it’s pure fucking need.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours. “Then take it, baby.”

Chris snaps his hips forward, thrusting into you harder, his fingers pressing against your clit, pushing you higher, closer, and you can feel it. You can practically taste the pleasure you were so fucking close.

“Cum for me, ma,” Chris whispers, his voice wrecked, full of love, full of you.

You cum hard, your body clenching around him, your back arching off the bed, your head falling back as you cry out, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the billionth time today.

Chris groans, his pace faltering, his grip on your body tightening as he watches you fall apart beneath him, as he feels you squeeze around him, pulling him deeper, dragging him with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- mama” he mutters, his movements growing sloppy, desperate. He thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep before he shatters, his body trembling, his breath coming in ragged pants as he spills inside you again, pressing his forehead to yours, his lips brushing your cheek.

You both stay like that for a moment, tangled together, skin slick, hearts pounding, chests heaving.

Then, Chris chuckles breathlessly, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your lips and pulling out.

“Round three?” he teases, smirking against your mouth.

You roll your eyes, laughing softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Chris doesn’t hesitate.

The second the words leave your mouth, he kisses you. Deep, slow, filthy. Like he’s already planning on making good on his round three comment. His hands slide up your sides, warm and steady, fingers brushing over your ribs before cupping your face, holding you there like you’re his entire world.

And you knew you were.

Your body still burns from everything he’s already done to you, but you want more. You need more. You can feel him pressed against you, still hard, still ready, and it sends another pulse of heat straight to your core.

Chris groans as your nails scrape down his back, his hips shifting against yours, already chasing that friction. His breath is ragged when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead pressed to yours, his pupils blown even wider, his lips swollen and wet from kissing you.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he mutters, voice wrecked, his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you closer, pressing his length against your slick heat that’s covered in two rounds of both yours and his cum.

You grin, breathless. “And you love it.”

Chris lets out a dark chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw, down your neck, sucking another mark into your skin just because he can.

“Damn right, I do,” he murmurs, shifting above you, lining himself up, dragging the tip of his cock through your cum covered folds, making you whimper.

Your body shakes, overstimulated but aching for him again, and Chris feels it. He feels how sensitive you are, how badly you need him.

“I love fucking my cum back into you,” he groans, his voice full of something dark, something possessive. “God, and you’re still so tight.”

You whimper, tilting your hips up, and Chris chuckles, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips.

“Still so desperate, too” he murmurs. You roll your eyes, tugging him down, biting at his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Just fuck me already.”

Chris laughs, but it’s rough, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Whatever my girl wants,” he mutters but sinks into you nonetheless. It was slow and deep, stretching you all over again, making your eyes roll back and having your nails dig into his shoulders as he fills you completely.

Chris groans, his head dropping to your shoulder, his arms tightening around you.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes. “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

You whimper, still sensitive, still ruined from him, but you don’t want him to stop. You never want him to stop.

Chris lifts his head, tilting your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Look at me, ma,” he murmurs. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

And fuck, the way he watches you as he starts moving, the way his eyes burn into yours as his hips roll in deep, deliberate thrusts- it’s enough to destroy you.

He drags it out, keeping his pace slow, making sure you feel everything, making sure you need him as much as he needs you.

“Chris,” you gasp, legs tightening around his waist, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, and he moans, his hips stuttering just slightly.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters, his lips pressing against your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “So beautiful. So fucking mine.”

You shiver, the possessiveness in his voice making another wave of heat crash over you, making your stomach tighten with pleasure.

Chris feels it, knows it, and he speeds up just slightly, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot against your lips.

“Gonna cum for me again, baby?” he murmurs, his fingers slipping between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles. “Gonna let me feel you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to speak, barely able to breathe, the pleasure building so fast.

“Say it,” Chris demands, voice dark, hungry. “Tell me who’s making you feel this good.”

“You,” you gasp, barely able to get the words out. “You, Chris- fuck, I-”

You shatter before you could even finish your sentence. It’s intense, your entire body shaking, pleasure ripping through you harder than it ever has, your hands clinging to him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Chris groans as you tighten around him with such power, his movements growing sloppy and desperate. And then he’s there too, his hips stuttering, his body tensing before he lets go, burying himself deep, moaning your name way too loudly as he spills inside you.

Chris collapses beside you, breath still ragged, body still warm and sticky from everything you just did. His arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you into him, like he physically can’t be apart from you yet. His nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your damp skin.

For a long moment, neither of you speak, just basking in the quiet, in the aftermath, in the absolute mess you’ve made of each other.

Then Chris shifts slightly, adjusting his body when he suddenly feels it.

His lips twitch, his fingers gripping your thigh as he slowly drags them up, grazing over the sticky mess between your legs.

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement.

You hum sleepily against his chest, barely registering the shift in his tone. “Hmm?”

Chris grins, tilting his head slightly to glance down at you, his fingertips brushing against the inside of your thigh again, feeling the both of your cum still leaking out of you.

“You’re dripping,” he murmurs, his tone smug as hell, his fingers teasing as he lightly traces over the mess he left inside you.

Your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as you immediately squeeze your legs together, heat flooding your cheeks.

“Chris!” you shove at his chest, your voice shrill with embarrassment, but he’s grinning now, the tiredness in his eyes replaced with something cocky, something full of pure male satisfaction.

“Shit,” he mutters, dragging his fingers up your thigh again, spreading the wetness slightly just to watch you squirm. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Your face burns, and you slap at his arm, kicking at the sheets. “Chris, get something to clean it before I kill you!”

Chris just laughs, looking absolutely pleased with himself, shaking his head as he presses a slow, teasing kiss to your forehead.

“Relax, mama,” he murmurs, but he’s already moving, slipping out of bed, stretching his arms above his head before sauntering off to the bathroom completely naked, because of course he is.

You bury your face in your hands, groaning as you hear him rummaging through the cabinets. “I hate you so much.”

Chris’s laugh echoes from the bathroom. “You love me.”

You roll your eyes, still burning with embarrassment, but when he returns with a warm washcloth, his expression softens. He kneels on the bed beside you, gently running the cloth over your thighs, taking his time, making sure he’s thorough.

His fingers brush over your skin, slow and warm, and suddenly, you’re not embarrassed anymore. Suddenly, it’s just Chris. Your golden boy, your love, the boy who takes care of you even when he’s teasing the hell out of you.

When he’s done, he tosses the washcloth into the laundry bin, slipping back into bed, pulling you against his chest once more.

“Better?” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair.

You sigh, melting into his warmth. “Better.”

Chris chuckles. “Good. ‘Cause I’m still gonna remind you of this in the morning.”

Before you could reply, Chris inhales a panicked breath and mutters, “Shit, I’m gonna need to buy you like seven Plan B’s tomorrow.”

You snort, laughter bubbling past your lips as you roll onto your side, draping an arm over his chest. “Seven? You planning on going another few rounds in your sleep?”

Chris grins, brushing his fingers up and down your spine. “I mean, if you’re up for it…”

You swat at his chest, making him chuckle, but then your grin turns wicked, teasing. “Your mom is definitely gonna be disappointed that we didn’t use the condoms she bought for you.”

Chris groans, covering his face with his hands. “Jesus Christ, don’t remind me.”

You giggle, propping yourself up on one elbow. “She literally walked in on us once, Chris. She knows you’re not a virgin.”

Chris peeks at you from between his fingers, giving you a deadpan look. “Yeah, and I still can’t look her in the eye.”

You smirk, resting your chin on his chest. “I think she was just trying to be supportive. Making sure her son’s being safe and all.”

Chris grumbles, shaking his head. “She left them on my bed, Y/N. With no note. Just a silent here, please stop traumatizing me moment.”

You burst into laughter, curling into his side as he groans dramatically. “Aw, baby, your mom just wants what’s best for you.”

Chris scoffs. “She probably heard all that too and is currently regretting every decision she’s ever made.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before whispering, “I think she’s just proud her son has stamina.”

Chris lets out a strangled noise before flipping you onto your back, pinning you beneath him, tickling your sides until you’re screeching with laughter.

“Oh, you’re funny, huh?” he teases, grinning down at you as you squirm beneath him. “You think you’re so fucking hilarious.”

“Chris- stop!” you wheeze between laughs, kicking your legs as he keeps going.

Eventually, he relents, rolling off of you with a satisfied smirk. You’re still giggling, breathless, and Chris watches you with this soft look, like he’s completely and utterly gone for you. And you know he is.

Then he sighs, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, sitting up and reaching for the hem of the t-shirt he tossed onto the floor earlier. “Let’s get you fully cleaned up.”

You hum in contentment as he helps you sit up, grabbing another rag from his nightstand and running it gently between your thighs, collecting more of your release that spilled out. The whole time, his eyes stay locked on yours, full of something deep, something warm.

When he’s done, he grabs one of his t-shirts from his drawer that was soft, oversized, and smelling exactly like him and slips it over your head, his fingers brushing over your skin as he helps you adjust it.

“There,” he murmurs, voice low, fond. “My girl in my shirt. Fucking perfect.”

You smile, curling into his chest as he tugs the covers over both of you. His arms wrap around you tightly, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your back.

You sigh, completely melted into him, your body still humming with the remnants of everything he’s given you tonight. His skin is warm beneath your cheek, his heartbeat steady, grounding.

Chris presses a slow, lingering kiss to your hair, his fingers continuing their soft path over your spine, tracing lazy, absentminded patterns like he never wants to stop touching you.

“You okay, baby?” he murmurs against your forehead, his voice thick with exhaustion but still full of that quiet, unwavering care.

You nod, nuzzling closer, your legs tangling with his beneath the sheets. “Mhm. Perfect.”

Chris exhales softly, tucking you even closer somehow, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.

“Good,” he whispers, his lips brushing over your temple. “Gotta take care of my girl.”

Your chest tightens, warmth blooming inside you at how soft he is now, how different this moment is from the desperate, hungry way he had fucked you just minutes ago.

This is what you love about Chris.

That he’s wild and reckless and cocky, but then he’s this, too. He’s gentle, protective, utterly devoted in a way that makes you feel so unbelievably safe.

Your fingers rub absentmindedly against his chest, your eyes growing heavy, exhaustion slowly pulling you under.

Chris hums, his breath slowing, his hold on you never faltering.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead again, soft and lingering. “I got you.”

And with that, wrapped up in his warmth, in his love, in him, you finally let sleep take you, safe in the arms of the boy who always has you and always will have you.

[littlelamy]

omggg more trophy wife reader and dad rafe!!!!!

hope you like it! ⭐️As you sipped your morning coffee in the sunlit kitchen, you felt Rafe’s arms slip around your waist. You leaned into his embrace, a warm smile already forming as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth against your ear, “you’ve been working so damn hard at looking this good. I think it’s time I gave my gorgeous wife a little break.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, raising a brow in playful suspicion. “A break?”

He nodded, that familiar spark lighting up his eyes. “Yeah, baby. Just you and me, on a little escape. Thought we could take the jet and get the hell out of here for the weekend. Maybe somewhere with beaches, crystal-clear water… Bora Bora sound good?”

Your heart skipped a beat. A spontaneous trip to Bora Bora with your loving, impossibly charming husband? Rafe had a knack for sweeping you off your feet just when you needed it most.

“What about the kids?” you asked, though the excitement was already building.

“Sarah said she’d take care of them for us,” he replied with a grin. “And, well, John B too. But don’t worry—Sarah’s got it handled.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing Sarah’s responsible nature meant you could leave without a worry in the world, even if John B tagged along.

Within hours, you were on the jet, Rafe sitting close enough to reach for your hand whenever he wanted, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered. The flight was long, but with Rafe, every second felt exciting, like the anticipation was part of the fun. When you finally landed in Bora Bora, the warm, tropical breeze welcomed you, along with Rafe’s arm slung around your waist.

After checking into a luxurious overwater bungalow with panoramic views of turquoise water and Mount Otemanu in the distance, Rafe guided you to the finest boutiques in Vaitape, his arm resting possessively around your waist as he led you through each store, his attention unwavering. He watched you try on outfits, his gaze lingering just a little too long, his words low and flirtatious.

“That dress,” he said, leaning close, his fingers brushing your arm as you showed him the deep, fitted silk gown, “fits you like it was fucking made for you. But then again, everything looks incredible on you.” He tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “Or off you. Either way, it’s perfect.”

You felt your cheeks warm as you turned back to the mirror, pretending to study the dress while you caught him watching you through the reflection, admiration practically radiating from him.

The afternoon continued with him indulging your every whim. Shoes, dresses, jewelry—Rafe insisted on all of it. As you browsed, he found excuses to pull you close, whispering little compliments, his voice laced with that confident charm that never failed to make you feel like the only woman in the world.

Later, as the day faded into a golden evening, Rafe arranged for a private dinner with a view over the lagoon, where the soft waves lapped beneath you and the sky turned pink and orange above. You sat across from him, candles flickering softly between you, casting warm light across his face.

“I love seeing you like this,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes tracing over your features. “Spoiled, relaxed. You fucking deserve it, you know.”

You smirked, raising a brow. “You’re spoiling me, Rafe. What did I ever do to deserve a husband who takes me halfway across the world just to treat me?”

He chuckled, his hand reaching across the table to catch yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, reassuring rhythm. “Just by being you, sweetheart. You’re stunning, charming, and somehow, all mine. I’m the lucky bastard.”

As the night went on, Rafe didn’t let a moment go by without reminding you how much he adored you. His flirting was relentless, with just enough edge to keep you smiling and blushing.

By the time you returned to your bungalow, the soft sound of water below and a starlit sky above, you felt completely cherished and at ease, like there was no place you’d rather be. And as Rafe pulled you close, murmuring one last promise to keep making days like this for you, you knew you’d never doubt just how damn much this man adored you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[luveline]

Hii i love the way you write!!! Could you write something about bad ass reader X Spencer? I miss them soo much.... Maybe something about her saying I love you for the first time and she's nervous and he's confused bc he's not understanding why she's nervous and what she's trying to say ❤️❤️❤️

some light spencer fluff ! love u. fem

Spencer has hair like silk. Brown, shiny curls in the milky moonlight of a September sky. The cold air nips his nose and cheeks, leaving ruddy blush like cherry stains that bring out the endless brown of his eyes. His hand is callused beneath yours, evidence of hour upon hour of stooped writing, pen ink on his fingertips, dark black smudges that stretch as they squeeze. He tips his head back to look at the bruising sky and the stars are like pin pricks, close and very, very far as he again squeezes your hand. You’re surprised you can see the stars, but this part of the country is quiet. 

“Wow, look at all of those,” he says, like he’s begging you to see them too; worried you’ll miss out on such a heart-rending sight. 

You let your side weigh on his and look up, feeling the cold of each star above you like a sudden breeze. Your nose is ice, your lips chapping despite a little lip balm you’d rushed on before you left the cottage. It’s a small, beautiful place, decorated by its patches, ivy and cobbled roofing, window panes replaced in different shades of pink and orange and green. You can see it from where you’re standing, a light forgotten in the bathroom. 

Let’s go on a walk, Spencer‘d said, before it gets too cold. 

It’s too cold already. You shiver, forcing more of your weight into Spencer’s side, only slightly abashed as he wraps his arm around you and presses the soft of his cheek to your head. “See that one?” he asks, smiling, “I think that’s the North Star. Brightest one.” 

You close your eyes.

“It’s really cold, isn’t it?” he asks. 

“It’s freezing.” 

Spencer noses your cheek. Your stomach flips, a zapping, sickening electricity bending and aching inside you from his innocuous touch. Intimacy with Spencer has become casual, but not less exciting. You feel him like a contusion, sometimes. Right in the pit of your stomach. It borders on unpleasant, though it never quite gets there. You want him to do this to you for the rest of your life, you think, opening your eyes to catch a last look at the dark sky and its rich field of stars like white strawberry seeds. 

Spencer’s watching you when you drop your chin. You’d scowl if he were anyone else, reluctant to be caught relaxed, but it’s him. 

“You okay?” 

“Shouldn’t I be?” you ask. You’ve given little clue of nerves. You’re as rigid as ever, the softest part of you your hand where he’s petting your index finger. 

“I know when you’re… not fully you,” he says. 

“I’m still me. Just worried.” 

“About what?”

There’s a layer of gutted to his voice you don’t like. You shouldn’t be worried about anything. You and your colleagues at the BAU recently received a pay rise at work, as well as a small bonus, which you and Spencer then cashed to vacation here. It might not be the best time of year, but anywhere with Spencer can be perfect. So far it has been. Waking up with him in a space that isn’t his apartment or yours feels new, startlingly good, it makes you think of the future in ways you hadn’t considered in depth previously. The aching puddle of your stomach yawns again. 

“I have something– something I–” You wince through it as Spencer’s brows rise. “I need to tell you something, Spencer. Before it jumps out of me.” 

“Okay.” His breath is like mist in front of him. His cheeks continue in their reddening. 

“I’m worried I won’t say it the right way.” 

Spencer shakes his head. You’d like to rub some warmth into his skin, but you don’t trust your hands to stay steady. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m really happy we’re here. I can’t… there isn’t any other way I’d like to spend the weekend. This is really– Spencer, this is perfect, and it’s because of you. Us.“ Spencer’s overlooked and under appreciated everywhere he goes. Just once, you want him to feel seen for the gem he is. “I really,” —your breath leaves you like it’s been yanked from your chest— “love you.” 

Spencer brings your hand to his chest. “You love me?” he asks, kissing your fingers. 

You dip your chin to your chest. “Yeah.” 

“I love you.“ What an odd emphasis, and somehow the right one. 

You nod. That’s good. It’s good to be loved. You’d known he loved you, of course, but it’s good to have it said aloud. 

“You aren’t surprised?” he asks. “But, why were you worried?” 

Hard to explain. You give in to temptation, cradling the cold stretch of his cheek to rub a thumb over his bottom lip. Your lip balm has left it soft. “I told you, I didn’t think I’d say it right.” 

“You don’t usually say anything wrong.” 

Spencer wraps his arm around you and tugs you in for a hug. You stumble back at the force of him and he sways you from one side to the other, keeping you up with him, frosting grass crunching under your shoes. The night is quiet here, coloured only by the shush of the wind and the stirring leaves of the woodlands. Spencer’s breath is by far the loudest sound, a huffing, happy thing that betrays his excitement. “I love you,” he says on a laugh. “It was nice to see you struggling to talk, for once, but you don’t need to be nervous with me. I love you.” Two admissions at once. You find yourself renewed.

“It was a one time thing, I assure you.” 

“Consider me assured,” he says, ferrying your face up for a warm kiss. 

[fictionismyreality3]

Penpals with the 141

Warnings: stalkerish behaviour at the end teehee 🤭

Notes: if only I had a hot military man or men to send letters to 🤷🏻‍♀️😩

It started out as just another way to keep the boredom away. Sending care packages to military members was also a plus. You'd be staying busy and doing a good deed at the same time. You found some trustworthy-enough organization, signed up, and sent out your first letter along with a few goodies like choclates and warm socks.

The 141 had never really thought much about getting care packages from civilians. In their eyes it was just a good way to get the things they missed out on while on deployment. Most of the letters got tossed as soon as they opened the box.

That was until they got yours.

The stupid little smiley face drawn on the cardboard shouldn’t have stopped Simon in his tracks, but he found himself staring down at the doodle.

"L.T? Y'been standin' there fer a good 15 minutes." Soap remarked.

"S'that your favourite candy, right?"

Soap was swayed by the chocolate oranges, finding himself reading your letter as he scarfed down each wedge. The curly handwriting, the crossed out and rewritten words had him showing the letter to Gaz, and then Price. Soon you found yourself in an almost penpal situation. Over the exchange of more and more letters, you were able to dicern the personalities of each man who was writing to you.

There was Soap, who wrote in barely legible chicken scratch, often skipping words or even entire sentences, like he was thinking too fast for his hand to keep up. Always calling you 'bonnie' or 'lass'.

Gaz, who wrote much more formally. His hand writing was the best to read, neatly printed on the lines of the paper. You got the sense that he sat down and put his whole attention into writing back to you.

Ghost, who's name you were yet to learn, tacked on his responses at the end of the paper. It was rare to get more than a few sentances from him, and even rarer for them to be anything but small talk. Slowly, he began to open up, asking you how you were or if your boss had resolved that HR issue yet. How did he know that?

Price, who'd quickly insisted on you calling him John— makes me feel old, luv— was the one who you seemed the most interested in your life. You chalked it up to him wanting to have something to think about other than his life threatening job.

Questions about your living situation, your job, your hobbies, it all seemed like small talk. Easy enough to look over. And then came the questions about your bills. Does your job pay enough? When's the last time you've been on vacation? What does your ideal living situation look like? Are you in a relationship?

It wasn't just John who was asking. So were Gaz, Johnny, and even Ghost began to inquire about more personal details. Every time you got a letter, it was almost a pavlovian response for your cheeks to blush. You looked forwards to the letters from your far away military men, and they even sent you gifts!

A watch, just like the one on your pinterest, wrapped up in a pretty pink bow. They added on such a sweet note too.

"Synced up to our watches." Ghost.

"Thought you needed a little treat." Gaz

"Here you go, bonnie! Now you can know when we're awake!" Soap.

"Let me know if you need it tightened, sweetheart." John.

They didn't feel the need to tell you about the favour they called in with Laswell to get the micro-tracker added, or about the camera and microphone they planted in the watch face. You looked so pretty with it on anyways, they'd need to make sure nobody stared too long.

[moonchild9350]

Fade Away

summary: hyunjin is your best friend, your confidant, your lover, these things can't just fade away right? pairing: hyunjin x fab!reader genre: childhood friends to lovers, slice of life, sci fi au, fluff, angst, smut-18+MDNI word count: 8.7k warnings: masturbation, cum tasting, fingering, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, somniphilia, handjob, oral sex (m receiving), multiple rounds, implied shower sex, mentions of memory loss, mentions of abuse notes: this was kind of a dream and thought it would be cool to write it out. let me know what you think of this, I'd greatly appreciate it! I really do value your feedback :)

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)

divider by @fanguro

They say a best friend walks with you through everything, whether it’s an uplifting period of life or when it goes to absolute shit, and you can honestly agree with the statement having experienced it yourself.

Hyunjin has been your best friend since you both were little, since he saw you crying on the park bench right outside your house at the measly age of eight. He comforted you in that moment, trying to distract you from your shitty step parents and the abuse you suffered at their hands.

He cheered you up right away, even going as far as wiping the tears from your face, as you looked at him with your snot stained face and puffy, red eyes. Hyunjin didn’t care however, as long as you were ok.

You both sat on that park bench first in silence and then slowly opening up to each other as your legs dangled over the edge of the seat. Hyunjin listened as you told him your story, that you were adopted and never knew who your birth parents were. Your step parents started to turn on you, hitting you, or locking you up in your room when they didn’t want to be bothered by you shortly after their biological daughter was born.

Hyunjin listened as you described your days, unpredictable and unstable, never knowing what type of mood the adults of the house would be in. Now that your sister was older, she joined in on torturing you by getting you in trouble, blaming things she did on you. Your parents believed her every time, leaving you to take the punishment.

As your tale came to an end, you sniffled and wiped your eyes, looking down at your legs, too ashamed to look at the boy next you.

“Well your parents are assholes!” Hyunjin exclaimed, shocking you completely. “If you need to escape, come to my house!”

Once the initial shock wore off at his kindness, you smiled and kicked your feet.

“Ok,” you said in agreement, nodding your head so he could see.

As the sun slowly descended, casting its pretty glow of reds, pinks, and orange, and the moon took its place, you both sat there, talked and laughed, swinging your little legs in tandem as a new found friendship strengthened.

That was seventeen years ago. Hyunjin is still very much your best friend, so much so that you both live together, splinting the rent of your run down apartment in the side of town that isn’t the best to be in.

He’s been your rock, your foundation and continues to be so, even in the throes of adolescence.

You look at him now as he adjusts himself on his stool, his tongue sticking out as he ponders how he should proceed, his paintbrush resting at his side. There’s soft music playing in the background, creating a cozy atmosphere while the rain pelts the windows, masking the sounds of the busy city below.

You don’t want to break his concentration, so you smile and go back to your book, focusing your mind on the events that are unfolding, as the main character and their beau are about to confess their love for each other.

You and Hyunjin were both off today, your schedules aligning for once. Since it was a gloomy day out, Hyunjin suggested staying in and you couldn’t agree more, not wanting to get out in the nasty weather.

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes turned into hours as you both sat in comfortable silence. It wasn’t until you finished the chapter you were on that you moved.

“Hyun! I’m hungry,” you whined as you slammed your book shut.

The loud noise in the otherwise quiet room startled Hyunjin, his paintbrush falling from his hands as he yelped.

“Y/n! Jeez I could have messed up my painting,” hyunjin retaliated with a scowl as he bent over to pick up his paintbrush.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatic response.

“Well, you know how I get when I’m hungry,” you said as you walked over to his seat.

You stood behind him and grasped his shoulders, your fingers lightly messaging the tight muscles as you peeked at his canvas. Your eyes roamed over the rolling hills he depicted on the canvas, met with the various little houses painted in detailed on the landscape.

Hyunjin sighed as he relaxed into your hold, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed the massage you were giving him. Hyunjin was talented, gifted with the ability to recreate any scene, person, or object on canvas, telling a story with the various colors and mediums he chose.

He worked full time at the local coffee shop, saving up money so he can attend the art program at the university.

While he was gifted, you worked two jobs, splitting your time between your job at the book store to your shifts at in the lab working as a research technician. You loved science and wanted to make your mark on the world, so you applied to assist a doctor at the hospital with his research.

Both of your days were long and hard, as you worked towards your dreams, using each other as support. When you had time off, you both spent your days together, participating in craft night or movie night, or just enjoying each other’s presence as in tonight.

“Looking good,” you said as you continued to apply pressure to Hyunjin’s shoulders, chuckling as he let out a low moan as you worked a particular tense area.

“Mmm, thanks. I’m not quite done with it. I want it to be perfect so I can add it to my portfolio for when I apply to the program.” Hyunjin said as he opened his eyes to look at his work.

“They’d be stupid not to take you Hyun,” you replied as you walked away, making your way to the little drawer full of take out menus you’ve both accumulated over the years.

“Pizza? Burgers? Thai food? What are you in the mood for?” You asked, peering over your shoulder at Hyunjin.

“Surprise me,” he said as he got up and started to clear up his mess.

You grinned at his response, remembering that he is not the person to discuss options with as he could never make up his mind. You flipped through the menus, looking out for anything that seemed good.

As you came across a menu for the local pizza parlor, you pulled it out and grabbed your phone to order. Once done, you made your way back to the living room, plopping down on the couch next to Hyunjin. You stared incredulously at the tv screen, as Hyunjin rapidly flipped through the various shows and movies, looking for one only he knew.

Finally, he settled on a drama, his attention glued to the couple on screen who were in the midst of a fight. You tucked in and watched the show with him until the food came.

As the night came to a close, your eyes grew tired, the lids closing as you tried to focus on the show on screen. However, between the sounds of the rain pelting the window and the warmth you felt radiating off Hyunjin, you didn’t stand a chance. Sleep was about to win when Hyunjin shook you awake, chuckling as you let out a grumble at being disturbed.

“Get up sleepy head, let’s get you to bed ok?” Hyunjin said softly as he gently stroked your leg.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up, stretching your back from lying on the uncomfortable couch. Hyunjin guided you to your bedroom and picked out your pjs, setting them on the bathroom counter as you brushed your teeth. Once you were done, you slipped into the cozy set he picked out, the fleece warming your skin in the chilly apartment.

Turning out the light, you walked to your bed, the blankets pulled back with Hyunjin perched on the edge.

“Come on sleepyhead, get in,” he said as he patted your bed.

You giggled as you slid beneath the blankets, lying on your side as Hyunjin tucked you in, making sure you were all nice and snug. Once he was satisfied, he smiled and wished you good night, flipping the light off and closing the door as he left. You could feel yourself drifting off, as you thought of how lucky you were to have such a sweet best friend like Hyunjin.

To you, it seemed like your normal routine, Hyunjin looking out for you, making sure you were well taken care of. It was just him keeping his promise from all those years ago. However, to him it meant a little more, a fact that you were oblivious to as you lived your life with Hyunjin.

The next morning Hyunjin wakes up bright and early, the bright sun filtering through his window. He glances at the light, annoyed that his curtains do nothing to keep the sun out, instead it’s nearly for decoration, adorning the otherwise bare room.

He sat up and yawned, wishing he could go back to sleep since he doesn’t have to go into work until second shift. However, he shook the thought away, willing himself to get up so he could prep breakfast for you as you worked first shift at the bookstore today.

Yes, he makes you breakfast whenever you have an early shift, wanting to make sure you’re well fed to endure the long day ahead of you. It’s just one of the many things he does, not minding in the least for helping you out. He’s felt the need to watch over you, ever since he saw you crying on the little bench as kids, sad and neglected by the very people who were supposed to shower you with love and care.

Hyunjin is in love with you and has been for a few years now. His heart beats ridiculously fast whenever you’re near, threatening to leap out of his chest; he feels flutters in his stomach when you wrap your arms around him in a hug, the scent of your strawberry shampoo drifting through his nostrils; he feels soft towards you as you focus on your goals, working two jobs trying to climb to the top, to be somebody in this godforsaken world.

Hyunjin loves you, and he will always love you. He’s scared to have that discussion with you however, nervous that you would reject him, state that you only want to be friends and not pursue a relationship with him. He’d rather play it safe and stay the ever doting best friend.

As he gets up and searches for his favorite hoodie, he hears you stumble around your room, the sound of a door slamming echoing through the otherwise quiet space. He searches more quickly, wanting to get started on your breakfast so it is ready by the time you make it to the kitchen.

“Ah ha, gotcha,” he mumbles as he pulls it from under a pile of clothes he’s left on the chair.

He slips it on and pads to the kitchen, flipping on the lights as he goes. Hyunjin settles into the familiar routine of making breakfast as he cracks eggs into a pan, pulls the bacon out and gets the coffee started. He shuffles around, working swiftly but efficiently, adding the finishing touches just as you enter the kitchen.

“Morning Hyun,” you grumble, heading straight for the coffee.

He hands you your travel mug and says, “Morning sleepyhead. Sleep well?”

“Fair enough,” you say, pouring the hot liquid into the mug, your tone lightening up at the prospect of the caffeine entering your system soon.

Hyunjin plates up your food and sets it down on the table, beckoning you over to sit and eat. He smiles as you do so without fuss, tucking in to your plate. He busies himself with cleaning up the mess he made as you eat, the sound of your fork clanking with the plate occasionally.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he goes and sits down next to you just as you finish up. He glances at you, taking in your simple attire, perfect for the day of work you have ahead. He smiles as you scarf down the eggs, cooked to perfection just the way you like.

Hyunjin takes another sip of coffee before saying, “I’ll be home later this afternoon since I'm working second shift.”

You hum at his statement, acknowledging that you understand.

“Take out then?” You ask him, glancing up at his face.

“If you’d like,” Hyunjin said with a shrug.

He knows you don’t cook, almost burning down the kitchen the last time you tried. He remembers your shrieks of terror as the pan went up in flames, the piece of meat you were trying to cook engulfed in the yellow-orangish flames. After he simply covered the flames with the lid of the pan, he had to comfort you as you burst into tears, babbling about how you didn’t mean to do it.

Hyunjin watches as you finish the last bite of breakfast and get up, taking your plate with you. You grab the to go mug of coffee he fixed you and bid him goodbye as you head to your shift at the bookstore.

The front door clicks softly, the sound of your key in the lock as you lock the door behind you. Silence reigns over the apartment as the sun begins to shine into the living room, ushering in another long day. Hyunjin finishes his coffee and gets up, planning to sketch a little before he has to get ready for work.

He walks back to his bedroom and grabs his supplies before settling back in bed. He opens to a fresh page and brings pencil to paper, moving his hand gently over the paper, the scratch of the lead soothing to his ears. He begins to hum as a person becomes visible on the page, his eyes taking in what he has drawn so far.

His lips turn up in a smile as he glances down at you, gazing peacefully at him from the page. Your delicate features stick out, soft and gentle just like you. Hyunjin has many sketches of you, little doodles he’ll make whenever he can, his heart soaring as he draws in the many beautiful details of your face and your body.

He’s loved you for ages, his heart twisting every time you gave him that soft smile as your giggles filled the space, livening up the place. He wants to love and protect you forever and always. However, he is sure you don’t feel the same, never having given him signs that you love him more than just a friend. It hurts deep down, but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship you both have, as you are his lifeline and he doesn’t want that to change any time soon.

Despite this, he can’t help but think of you every second he gets and it’s no different now. The thought of your beauty causes the blood to rush to his cock, the length steadily hardening within the confines of his sweatpants. A wet stain appears on the fabric as he leaks pre-cum, his cock twitching in need.

Hyunjin groans and sets down his sketch pad, his hand palming his erection through his pants. He squeezes his cock and whimpers, imaging your hand on him instead, teasing him, touching him until he begs for you to take it out. He teases the skin of his belly, playing with the little hairs that make up his happy trial.

He takes his time before reaching into his sweats, his hands finally making contact with the head. He gathers some precum before smearing it around, his other hand pushing down his sweats in desperation to touch himself. As he pushes his boxers down, he lets out a hiss as his cock is freed and stands at attention angry, red, and leaking.

With a shaky breath his grasps the shaft and begins to stroke, his hands building up a steady rthymic motion as his mind wanders to you. He wishes it were you, desperately wants it to be you with your hand wrapped around his cock, pleasuring him until he’s squirming and begging for his release. He strokes and strokes, wet sounds filling the room as he’s a leaking mess. His moans mix with the sound of him pleasuring his cock, his breath shaky as his orgasm builds up.

As he continues to stroke himself, his other hand reaches down to fondle his balls, giving them a squeeze as they sit hot and heavy in his hand. Hyunjin’s back arches off the bed as his orgasm washes over him without warning, the pleasure so intense he’s seeing stars, his hearing diminishing as he moans out. His pace doesn’t stop as spurt after spurt of hot cum splatters his hand and belly, painting it with the sticky white substance.

Once he’s empty, he relaxes on the bed, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high, the sound of your voice whispering how good he is in his head. He whimpers as he gathers some of his cum that’s starting to dry on his belly and brings it to his lips, tasting the salty liquid on his tongue. He closes his eyes as his hands rest at his side, his now soft cock lying haphazardly as he wills himself to get up and get cleaned up.

He’s down bad for you, yes, but he doesn’t mind. He welcomes the reminder on a daily basis and will continue to do so for as long as it takes.

Hyunjin finally wills himself to get up, making his way to the bathroom to get ready for work. Once dressed and deemed presentable for his shift at the coffee shop, he gathers his phone and wallet and makes his way to the door.

And as Hyunjin leaves his home, he thinks of tonight when he gets home, to you the love of his life.

You are ready to be home, ready to take a hot shower and get into some cozy clothes and relax in front of the tv. Your shift today was not the best, the events of the day replaying in your mind.

It started off good enough, some of the regular customers stopping by, looking for a new read and others were new, curious to see the old fashioned bookshop that is present in the otherwise modern town. You loved to help others find their next read, wanting to help them escape to other worlds, another place then their everyday mundane lives. Your customers could tell of your passion as they asked you for recommendations and had in depth conversations about the latest books and authors.

However, what started off as a good day turned sour really quickly as your friend Tiffany, stopped by, wanting to gossip about her new boy toy. You have been friends for ages, not as long as you’ve been friends with Hyunjin, but long enough. You love her for what she’s worth, but sometimes she can be a little much for you, her bubbly personality taking over, even when the situation is dire.

You don’t agree with her methods of “dating,” and you’ve let her know your thoughts more times than you can count, today being one of those days. However, Tiffany must have found offense as she started to yell and berate you and your opinions. You couldn’t get a word in as she babbled on and on about how you don’t support her and that the reason why you’re still single is because you have a stick up your ass.

You were taken aback by her words, never having heard her have an outburst quite like this. You didn’t say anything as she stormed out of the shop, the door slamming shut with a final tinkle of the bell that hung at the top of the door.

As you made your way home, you mind wandered to Hyunjin, hoping he would be home on time tonight. You wanted to feel his presence, needing to be comforted. You felt the tears crowd the corner of your eyes, the hurt settling in from today deep in your chest. You needed to get home quickly, so you weren’t crying on the side of the street.

Picking up the pace, you arrived home in no time, your hand shaking as you attempted to slide the key in the lock. Softly grunting in frustration, you cleared the water from your eyes and focused on the hole, the key finally sliding into place. You quickly opened the door and slid inside, dropping your stuff haphazaly on the floor as you made your way to the couch.

You collapsed on the cushions and continued to cry, your sobs echoing in the empty room. You let it all out, putting your head on your knees as you squeezed your legs, hoping Hyunjin would come home soon.

As if he heard you, the door opened, annoucning that he was finally home.

“Y/n! I’m home!” Hyunjin shouted, the sound of his keys dropping on the hallway table.

“Y/n?” You heard Hyunjin call out again, this time cautiously.

You remained on the couch, not moving or saying anything waiting for Hyunjin to notice you.

“Oh y/n, what’s wrong?” Hyunjin said, his voice barely above a whisper as he rushed to you.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you close, his hand cradling your head into his chest. You gripped his shirt and buried your head in the fabric, breathing in the scent of coffee and Hyunjin, the smell itself comforting. You both sat in silence as Hyunjin rocked you side to side, as he softly hummed. After a while you disentangled yourself from him and leaned back, wiping your eyes in the process.

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Hyunjin inquired, his eyes on you as he patiently waited for you to speak.

You’re sure your eyes were red and puffy, but he gazed at you with such tenderness, not caring what you looked like.

“Tiffany and I had a fight…I’m not sure we’re friends anymore. She said some pretty nasty things about me…”

You watched as Hyunjin balled his hands into a fist, his eye twitching as he fumed in anger. You knew Hyunjin never liked Tiffany, calling her a bad influence on you. Deep down you knew he was right, but you had been friends so long with her, you didn’t want to cut ties with her as he suggested.

“You were right about her Hyunjin,” you said as you twiddled your thumbs and looked down at your lap.

“Oh y/n, it’s ok. You only need me yeah?” He said, as he tried to reach for you once more.

You pondered his words, seeking the truth in them. Hyunjin is your everything, has always been. You sniffled and wiped more tears from your eyes. You had no one else in this world, as you were estranged from your parents, your sister. You only had Hyunjin.

“I only need you Hyun,” you agreed, looking him in the eyes.

Hyunjin smiled gingerly at you as he brushed his fingers down your cheek. In that moment, you could feel the dynamic shift between you two as you both came to an understanding. You only needed each other in this world, you only needed to live in this atmosphere that you have both created for yourselves. As long as you both had each other, you’d be alright.

“Do we have enough snacks?” Hyunjin asks, worry etched on his face as his eyes glanced over the various bags full of treats that littered the blanket.

You chuckled at his distress, knowing he needed tons of the salty and sweet treats for the movie.

“Yes love, I think we have enough,” you said as you brushed some of his hair out of his face.

Hyunjin looked up in that moment, his eyes finding yours, a smile gifting his face at your love and tenderness. He felt his heart skip a beat as he took you in, the perfect girlfriend he could ever have.

It’s been a year since that fated day when you both declared that you only needed each other, love laced with each word as you both sealed in your fates. Each day passed the same, your routines not really changing other than the fact you greet him with a kiss when you come home. Hyunjin has cherished each day, engraving each memory deep within the recesses of his brain, never wanting to forget these happy days.

Hyunjin clears his throat and crosses his arms as he pouts, deciding to tease you. “This may be enough…that is if you don’t eat it all angel.”

You giggled and pushed him lightly, his body tipping over and landing on the blanket. “Hey!” He said as he laughed, before righting himself.

“Well, you deserved it!” You said as you grabbed the other blanket and drapped it over your thighs.

You both were at the park, participating in a summer event called movies in the park. Hyunjin had suggested it after seeing an ad on the announcement bulletin board in your apartment complex. You wholeheartedly agreed to going, believing it would be fun. Luckily, you both were able to get that day off from work.

Hyunjin took you to the store and you both piled your cart high with snacks and drinks, giddy with excitement at the outing. He only had to compromise twice, after you begged to get one of your favorite candies, instead of the salty treat he so desperately wanted. It was worth it however when he saw your eyes light up as he agreed to your demands, his cheeks blushing as you placed a soft kiss on the heated flesh.

It was a nice summer night, the kind where the sun warms your skin, but you can enjoy the sensation without sweating, as you breathe in the warm summer air. The park was filled with families and couples, everyone eagerly waiting for the film to begin. It didn’t take long as the sun melted into the horizon, the screen turning on to project the featured film.

Hyunjin pulled you closer, slipping his legs underneath the blanket as well. He smiled as you snuggled against him, grabbing a bag of snacks to munch on as the opening credits began. As the sun went down for good and the stars made an appearance, littering the clear night sky, you both watched the movie enjoying a rare night off together.

Afterwards, you gathered your stuff and made your way home hand in hand. Hyunjin listened as you chattered about the movie, discussing the plot and how you liked it very much. He chattered back with you, equally as invested in the discussion about the movie as you were. You both were yapping so loud that the others who were sharing the sidewalk with you turned to look at you both, their faces in shock.

“Oops,” you giggled as you noticed their stares, “maybe we should tone it down a notch.”

Hyunjin chuckled and squeezed your hand, “maybe so angel.”

You both chattered more quietly the rest of the way, making it back home in record time. Hyunjin locked away this memory, walking home with you on a warm, summer night, after spending a relaxing and fun night with the love of his life.

-- --

Once home, Hyunjin watched as you bustled around the apartment, unwinding from your little outing. He listens as you’re humming a little song, one that sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place where he’s heard it. He loves watching you in these moments, you being you, just for him in this safe space.

Hyunjin feels the need to be close to you so he makes his way over to you and stops you in your tracks as he wraps his arms around you.

“Hyun, what..” You begin until he cups your face as he gazes into your eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers before pressing his lips to yours, sighing as he’s found his home.

Hyunjin lazily kisses you, pulling you closer, smirking against your lips as he listens to you whimper. He drags his hands up your sides before dragging them back down, his fingers gliding over your shirt and leggings until he reaches your ass, gently cupping the flesh in his large hands. He gives it a squeeze before slapping it, chuckling as you let out a yelp.

He drops his smile however as you bring your hand to his bulge and squeezes his semi-hard cock, his eyes finding yours as you smirk back at him.

“Two can play that game Mr. Hwang,” you tease as you stroke him through his pants.

“You little minx,” he murmurs as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss as you continue to palm him.

Suddenly he pulls back and grabs your hand, dragging you to his room that is now both of yours. He pushes you to the bed and climbs on top of you, his hands reaching to strip you of your clothes, tossing them away as quickly as possible. He needs to see you, feel you bare beneath him, engrave your beautiful body to his memory once more.

He unclapses your bra, your breasts spilling out as he removes the garment, his eyes glued to your hardening nipples. He licks his lips as he finds the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs, a groan leaving his lips as he notices your soaked as a string of your slick connects your panties to your pussy.

Hyunjin proceeds with removing his clothes, feeling the relief as he rock hard cock is finally free of the restricting garments. Once you both are bare for each other, there’s a moment of silence as you take each other in, in awe of each other’s raw beauty as if it’s your first time. Hyunjin’s cock twitches as you blush, squeezing your thighs together in embarrassment at his gaze, his ears perking up as he hears you quietly whimper.

His hands reach out and cup your breasts, his fingers ghosting over your nipples just how you like, the feather light touch causing you to moan and arch into his touch seeking more stimulation. He continues to tease the buds, not fully applying pressure as he knows you like the soft touches he gives your breasts.

“Hyun…love,” you whimper as you cant your hips towards him, your eyes glued to his leaking cock.

“Ok angel, bear with me yeah?” He cooes as he continues to touch you, his fingertips barely touching your skin.

He draws invisible patterns on your skin, his eyes glued to your rising and falling chest as you try to regulate your breathing, lost in his touch. Hyunjin watches as your hands grasps your breasts and play with them as he continues to torture you. He eventually reaches your thighs as he gently rubs circles on the flesh.

Deeming your ready, he parts your legs baring your glistening pussy to his eyes. He loves that he gets you so wet and needy, your folds just begging for him to touch them. And touch them he does as he drags a finger down the puffy folds, your body shuttering at his touch.

He takes his time as he buries his fingers between your folds, easily finding your clit. He applies gentle pressure to your bundle of nerves, bringing you to your high slowly but steadily. He listens to your moans, as he continues to pleasure you, the sound music to his ears. He knows you’re close as he’s very attuned to your body. Withdrawing his hand, he chuckles as you let out a whine, your eyes wide and on him.

“Want you to cum around me angel,” Hyunjin says as he grasps his cock, stroking the shaft a few times to coat it in his pre-cum.

He brings the tip to your entrance and lightly pushes in, your walls sucking him in instantly. He continues to push his length in until he bottoms out, your walls fluttering around his cock as he stills to let you adjust.

“Move, please move,” you beg as you wiggle your hips, attempting to fuck yourself on his cock.

Hyunjin smiles as he places his hands underneath your thighs, holding your legs open as he begins to thrust within you, his cock easily sliding in and out of your walls. He lets out a whimper as he feels your warmth engulf him again and again, your little hole stretching perfectly around him like you were made for his cock.

He’s not going to last long, always feeling overwhelmed once he’s inside you. What would normally embarrass most, he doesn’t mind and he knows you don’t either as you know he’s going to take care of you, make sure you reach your high.

“Touch yourself angel, touch your clit for me yeah?” Hyunjin begs as he feels his orgasm approaching.

He groans as you bring two fingers to your clit and rub, your wrist keeping in time to his thrusts. His tongue lolls out as he glues his eyes to your pussy and how wet it is, a mixture of your slick and his sweat coating the puffy flesh and dripping down your ass. Your fingers slip and slid, little whines leaving your mouth as your fingers slip off the bud. You quickly replace them however chasing after your high so you can come with your lover.

Hyunjin’s breath hitches as he feels you clench around him, his balls tightening within as he lets go in a flurry of loud moans, his cum painting your walls white and sliding out around his cock. His eyes meet yours as you let go, as your eyes roll to the back of your head and you arch your back as your walls rhythmically clench around his cock over and over. He gently fucks you through your high, pushing his cum back into your pussy.

As you take a stuttering breath, your eyes match his, as you clench around his cock one last time. Hyunjin softly moans before leaning down to capture your lips in a loving kiss, your lips moving together sweetly.

Hyunjin gets up and withdraws his softened cock, clucking his tongue at the sight of his cum leaking steadily from your pussy. He has to tear his eyes away in order to clean you up. Once you’re both clean, he pulls you under the blankets, cuddling you to his chest.

You both lay there breathing in tandem, sleep slowly taking over your bodies. Hyunjin logs away the feel of your soft, warm skin underneath his fingertips as he lazily drags them up and down your back. He memorizes the dips and turns of your body, mesmerized with your beauty as always. As he closes his eyes, he begins to dream of you and the eternity he plans to spend with you.

The next morning, you awake, feeling refreshed after last nights love making and a good nights rest. You look up to see Hyunjin sprawled out on his back, his chest softly rising and falling as he slumbers. As you stare at your lover, an idea comes to mind and as you glance at the clock, you notice you have a little time before you have to get up to go to your second job.

You carefully scoot closer to Hyunjin, careful not to wake him up. He has kicked off the blankets at some point during the night, leaving him uncovered. Your eyes go to the bulge in his boxers, already semi-erect. You gently palmed his cock, your eyes glued to his face to ensure he doesn’t wake up.

You smile as he doesn’t move, but continues to softly snore. You reach into the crotch of the fabric and pull out his cock, your eyes feasting on how how red and angry the head is, as drops of pre-cum drip down and coat his shaft and your hand.

You shuffle onto your knees and lean down to take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head. You press your tongue into his slit and then stop for a moment as Hyunjin moans above you, the sound short but audible. You wait a few seconds more before suckling the head as you stroke his shaft, savoring the salty taste of him on your tastebuds.

As Hyunjin slightly jerks in his sleep, you take more of him down your throat and bob your head in earnest, taking him to the base each time, the little hairs adorning his pelvis tickling your nose. You continue to pleasure your lover, alternating between suckling the head and deep throating him, awaiting the moment he realizes the pleasure he’s feeling is not a dream.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to wake up, his hands gripping your hair your sign he’s fully awake.

“Y/n…ah!” He mumbles, his voice deep as it’s laced with sleep.

You hum around him before increasing your pace, wanting him to come down your throat. You clench your thighs together as Hyunjin moaned and thrusted his hips upwards as he fucked your mouth gently. You grasped his balls in your hands and began to fondle them.

“Mmm close angel, don’t stop,” Hyunjin whimpered.

As you licked up his shaft and then swirled your tongue around him once more, Hyunjin grasped your head and pushed it down, forcing you to take him to the hilt, the tip of his cock kissing the back of your throat. He let out a loud groan as he came, spurt after spurt of his cum filling your mouth. You withdrew as he took a shaky breath, his hooded eyes set on you as you swallowed his cum, licking your lips afterwards ensuring not to waste any that may have dribbled out.

“Such a good girl for me,” Hyunjin murmured as he gave you a smile, his hands reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “Why don’t I return the favor? You have to work this morning right? How about I join you in the shower?”

You couldn’t say no to such an offer as you were dripping, your slick coating your panties causing them to stick uncomfortably to your skin. You’d be killing two birds with one stone too. You giggled as leaped out of bed, grabbing your lovers hands to pull him after you to take care of both of your needs before your shift.

--

As you entered the lab, you put your phone on silent so as to not have any distractions while working. Your second job was in a research lab at the local hospital. You enjoyed this job as well, the prospect of making strides in the scientific world giving you a thrill.

You pulled out your supplies, grabbing your agar plates from the incubator and settled in. You decided to play some music to pass the time away since you had the lab to yourself today. Getting lost in your work, your fell into the familiar routine of extracting cells, mixing them with solutions, and spinning them down, all to prepare them to extract the DNA.

However, you were so into it, that you accidentally knocked over a bottle that was laying on the counter, the clear liquid spilling all over the counter and you. You shrieked at the feeling, quickly picking up the bottle to stop more of the liquid from dripping onto the tabletop.

You noticed the bottle didn’t have a label, so you had no clue what was inside. Your skin wasn’t burning which you thought was a good thing. You quickly made your way to the wash station, and turned on the water, dousing your arms underneath the stream to get the strange liquid off.

You stayed there for ten minutes before you deemed it okay to stop. Turning off the water, you dried off your arms. Satisfied, you went back to work, picking up where you left off before the accident. The day continued, time flying by quickly as you made progress in your project. As mid day rolled around, you decided to call it quits.

After cleaning up your space and properly storing your specimens, you packed up your bag and left, making your way back home. The apartment would be empty as you got back, as Hyunjin would have already left for work.

Once at home, you changed clothes and decided to read, wanting to have a chill afternoon after your busy morning. As you were settling in, rain began to spatter against your window, the pitter patter soothing to your ears. Your eyes began to droop, slowly but surely until you succumbed to sleep, your book falling from your hands. -- -- “Who are you!?”

You awoke with a start, your eyes wide as you thought an intruder had entered your home. Blinking away the sleep, you focused your eyes to the man in front of you. Standing in front of you was…wait…it was Hyunjin. Why was he asking you who you were? You were y/n, his girlfriend, his best friend in the world.

“Hyun, it’s me…” you said incredulously.

Hyunjin stared at you for a moment, blinking his eyes slowly. After a while, there was a look of recognition on his face.

“Y/n? What just happened?”

You stared back at Hyunjin confused. “You just asked who I was.”

“I did? Why would I do that? I know who you are,” Hyunjin said as he sat down next to you.

You sat there in shock, confused as to what just happened. You could tell he meant what he said, his face telling it all that he had no clue who you were. As strange as it were, you decided to let it go. You latched onto his arm and snuggled into him, sighing at the comfort the warmth of his body brings.

As the night went on, your mind kept wandering to the night’s events, confused as to what transpired. A part of you thought you should have continued to question Hyunjin, ask him why he thought he didn’t know you. As you tossed and turned in bed, you couldn’t help the feeling of dread that lingered as you tried to fall asleep.

Time passed and with each day, stranger things occurred. Over the last few months, Hyunjin has forgotten your birthday, your favorite foods, even your favorite books which you constantly talk about. He always claims he’s not sure what has happened, confusion laced on his face as he ponders why he forgot that information. He’s also forgotten who you were a few more times, but he always recovers and remembers a little while later.

As you were getting ready for work, your mind was a nervous wreck as you considered every possibility as to why he’s forgetting the little things about you and your relationship. You walked to your bathroom to do your makeup when you looked in the mirror. You yelped at your reflection, your eyes widened in horror.

You were there, but your skin seemed to have faded a little, a small outline of your body seeming to glow in the light, almost like an aura. You touched your arm, sighing in relief as you could still felt solid.

What the hell is going on? Are you imagining things? That has to be it, yes. You continued your morning routine, convinced that it was all a hallucination since you hadn’t had your morning coffee yet.

Later, as you entered the kitchen, you found Hyunjin sitting down on the couch, his sketch book in his lap. You stopped in your tracks, confused as this was the first time you worked an early morning shift and Hyunjin had not cooked you breakfast. Even though he didn’t owe you the meal, you still found it kind of odd that he would break his usual routine.

“Love?” You questioned as you entered the living room.

Hyunjin snapped his head up in shock, some coffee sloshing over the rim of his mug and onto his clothes.

“Shit, what?” He asked, his face scrunched up in annoyance at the interruption and spill.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just going to go to work now,” you said quietly, his outburst shocking you.

Hyunjin never snaps at you, he's always gentle and considerate of your feelings. So his actions this morning have definitely shaken you up. You try not to linger on the feeling as you get to work. You immerse yourself in your books, helping out the various customers that come in throughout the day. You only hope that Hyunjin would have calmed down by the time you got home.

Hyunjin felt off. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knows it has something to do with your relationship, but he can never remember what it is. He spends his days frustrated as he forgets your name, your favorite book, or even your daily routine. He doesn’t understand why it’s occurring as he lives for you, breathes for you.

He can see the hurt in your eyes each time it occurs, how dejected you feel when he snaps at you once again. He doesn’t mean to, he just doesn’t know what else to do or say when these events occur.

He decides to make an effort to not forget, to focus hard to remember, to turn this whole mess around as quick as possible. Hyunjin looks up eagerly as you walk through the door, arriving home after work. You seem tired and run down, your skin dull and lackluster but also a little translucent.

He comes to the conclusion that you’re getting sick and decides to help nurse you back to health.

“Hey, welcome home angel. You look exhausted, let’s get you in a bath yeah?”

You shake your head yes gratefully and let him guide you to your bathroom. He busies himself with preparing the bath, making sure the water is the right temperature, that he fills the tub with your favorite bubble bath. He throws in some bath salts as well before deeming the bath satisfactory.

“Alright angel, let’s get in.” Hyunjin ties his hair up and strips and gets in the bath first.

You follow right behind him, the water slowly rising as you settle in between his legs. However, as you lay back against his chest, he’s not met with your solid body, but yet a more squishy feeling, almost like your skin is moving against him.

He’s startled to say the least, confused as to how you can feel this way. He reaches to grab your arm and is barely able to hold on.

“Angel, what…” he asks, not finishing his question as he’s not sure what to ask anymore.

“I’m not sure Hyunjin,” you sob as you breakdown. “I’m slowly fading and I have no idea why. I think it’s why you forget who I am at times and things about me.”

Hyunjin feels a pang in his heart as you cry, wishing he could wrap his arms around you, feel you as he has in the past. He attempts to comfort you, frustrated that your skin moves underneath his hands. He’s not sure what to make of the situation, but what you have proposed makes sense.

“How did this happen?” He asks quietly as you continue to sniffle.

“M’not sure,” you whimper. “What if you forget me forever? “

Your body shakes as your wracked with fresh sobs, your anguish echoing throughout the bathroom.

“I could never forget you angel, never.” Hyunjin says.

He really won’t, how could he as you’re the love of his life. If he has to write your name down everyday, he will, whatever he has to do to remember you, he will do it. He will help you through this no matter what.

Hyunjin says he won’t forget you, but you know it’s inevitable. You’ve faded away even more now, so much so that you can’t leave the house, scared others around you will think you’re a ghost. You spend your days at home, curled up within a blanket as you stare blankly at the tv.

You’ve made a link to the spill of the strange liquid at the lab to what has been happening to you for almost half a year now. Whatever it was must be altering the atoms of your body, slowly allowing them to spread, causing you to fade away.

You barely lift your head as Hyunjin walks in the house, as he walks right past you without giving you another glance. You wait a full two hours before he notices you, recognition and then shame gracing his face at his mistake.

He walks over to you and leans down to kiss you, but he is met with air. You begin to cry, leaning away quickly at the realization that you will never be able to feel Hyunjin’s lips on yours, his hands on your body, his warmth. You can see the sadness in his eyes as he realizes the same thing.

Hyunjin sighs and walks away, locking himself in his bedroom. You don’t see him for the rest of the night, which leaves you heartbroken. You make your way to your room to go to bed, as you consider today another disappointment.

Hyunjin wakes up, the sun is shining brightly through his window, promising another good day. He sits up and stretches, enjoying the pull on his muscles. He gets up to start his morning routine as he works the morning shift today.

He hums a little song as he washes up, dresses himself and then makes his way to the kitchen. He busies himself making breakfast, the familiar routine comforting. Once he’s done, he sits down to eat, humming at the taste of the food as he scarfs it down.

After the last bite, he takes his plate to the sink and dumps it. Grabbing his wallet and keys he leaves for work, shutting the door behind him.

His day passes without incident, the coffee shop bustling with customers as always. He decides he will sketch when he gets home, needing to finish his projects before the deadline for the art school he wants to apply to.

His boss lets him go earlier which is a godsend to Hyunjin as he can make it home before the rain decides to fall, blanketing the roads with puddles and mud. Once he arrives home, he quickly changes and grabs some juice before sitting down on the couch.

Pressing play on a little remote, soft music drifts through the room, blanketing his world with the sound of piano keys, perfect for his afternoon of sketching. He grabs his sketch book and opens it, the book falling open to some sketches he’s already completed.

He stares down at the woman on the page, her features beautiful and breathtaking. As he gazes at sketch after sketch, he feels as if he’s forgetting something or forgetting someone. Every time he gets close to the answer, it slips away, like silk slipping through his fingers.

Hyunjin can’t remember who the woman is in the sketch, but he’s glad he’s thought of them, wanting to include them in his portfolio. As he picks up his pencil once more, he begins to draw, his hands traveling around the page with practiced ease and familiarity. He focuses hard, needing the details to be just right.

As he finishes, he sets his pencil down, and glances at his sketch. He has sketched the woman again, the woman who seems to plague his subconscious. He gets the nagging feeling that he knows the woman but can’t recall why or where he knows her from.

Despite this, he has captured your beauty, your perfect features in great detail, immortalized forever all within the pages of his beloved sketchbook.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground

[mead-iocre]

Pay Attention To Me | Leah Williamson x Reader 

synopsis: do you know what's worse than dating a football player? dating a football fan.

warnings: brief mention of sex

wc: 2.5k words

Sometimes you wonder to yourself what possessed you to date a footballer. You weren’t athletic or sporty, and unlike your athlete brothers, you didn’t enjoy any sport enough to stick to it. Your only means of exercise was pilates and the occasional trip to the beach in your cute bikini. 

So how did you end up dating a professional footballer? 

You found yourself thinking about that question as you sit curled up on one end of the leather sofa browsing the Chanel website on your laptop. On the other end of the sofa, with her legs sprawled out and a beer bottle in one hand, sat your girlfriend. Leah was dressed in a grey hoodie and matching grey joggers; her hair was down, which was a rarity these days due to the heat, streaks of light blonde strands framing her pretty face. From your place on the sofa, you are granted the most breathtaking view of the ocean thanks to the expansive glass walls. The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see; the sky painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple. As the sun begins to set, it casts a golden glow over the water, making the waves glimmer and sparkle.

The villa was gorgeous, and exactly like how the pictures showed it to be. You had chosen the place yourself, tempted by the promises of walking out onto the deck and being able to jump into crystal clear waters. The spacious overwater bungalow features polished wooden floors, high vaulted ceilings with exposed beams, and furnishings in soft, neutral tones complemented by cool-tone vibrant accents. When you showed pictures of the villa to your girlfriend, she took once glance at it and handed you her gold amex card. She didn’t even ask you for the price. 

Back to your own question earlier, the short answer was that Leah was attractive as hell. She was also everything you could ask for in a partner. She's got a cracking sense of humour, she's passionate about her job, family-orientated, and it didn’t hurt that she was the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid eyes on. She made sure to spend as much time with you around her busy schedule. She accepted that you were high-matainance, and gladly indulged you. Leah was the whole package. Sometimes as you lay in bed, when the night is still and quiet, you would take a moment to thank your lucky stars that she walked into your life. 

However, no one in this world is perfect– even someone like Leah Williamson.

Your girlfriend’s biggest flaw was that she is a football player–and by extension– that meant she was a football fan.

And that was the problem. 

Today was the 2024 Euros final. England somehow managed to slither their way to the tournament final and will be facing Spain to compete for the title of Champions of Europe 2024. The original plan was to head over to the Williamson’s house so everyone could watch the game together. However, your birthday happened to fall in the week leading up to the final. As a birthday gift from your very generous girlfriend, Leah had surprised you with a week-long trip to the Maldives. Her only condition was that she gets to watch the Euros final at the villa 

Uninterrupted. 

And being the good girlfriend that you are, you were more than happy to compromise. That is until you realise that Leah has pretty much ignored you the entire day. 

Well– maybe ignore is the wrong term. She was acting the same this morning– ordering a breakfast spread fit for champions by the time you woke up, booking a luxury spa treatment for the both of you at the resort, and even letting you run wild with her card at the nearby mall where there’s a strip of high-end stores with names like Cartier, Vacheron Constantin, and Dior. You came strutting back to the villa in your new pair of Jimmy Choo kitten heels, while Leah trails behind you, her arms full of shopping bags– all of them belonging to you.

However, you were what other people would call clingy. You craved attention and affection more than the usual person. Physical touch was your love language, and most of the time, your girlfriend was more than happy to meet your needs. 

But not today it seems. 

She was far too busy watching a bunch of men on telly chase a ball around a field of freshly cut grass to pay enough attention to you.

Finally getting board of looking at bags and shoes on your laptop, you shut it down and put it aside. Stretching one leg over the length of the cream white sofa, you nudge Leah with your foot. “Lee…”

Without even moving her eyes away from the screen, your girlfriend just hums in reply. Rude.

Another nudge with your freshly manicured toes. “Leah”

Finally he blonde turns to you, grasping your foot with one hand effectively putting an end to your incessant poking. “What, baby?”

“I’m bored” You pout at her. 

“Then watch the game, darling” She tilts her head towards the 85” Samsung TV that is mounted on the wall. Her hand was now lightly massaging your foot and your calves, probably sensing how tense you are. 

You groan in reply, your head falling backwards dramatically. “That's exactly what’s boring me, Lee” 

Leah just smiles, but it’s a bit strained. She just wants to watch the game, and you’re making it hard for her to focus. She’s usually used to your indifference for the sport that she happens to make a career out of. You only "enjoyed" football when your girlfriend was playing. You attended all her matches and would cheer loudly for her when she's on the pitch. Whenever Leah would drag you along with to watch football matches as a spectator with her, you would reluctantly agree– after many kisses and promises of shopping afterwards– and armed with the latest copy of Vogue to pass the time. If she wasn’t on the pitch, you did not care.

You sneak a peek at her, wanting to see if she would indulge you further, but she was already turning her attention back to the TV. Stupid tv. 

You rattle your foot that is still under her hand. You didn’t know where this was coming from but you had enough of being pushed aside for a game of football. “Leah!” 

And that’s when she snaps. 

“Fucking hell– would it kill you to be quiet! Can’t you see I’m trying to watch the match, mate?” She gestures wildly at the tv. Her eye brows were drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. When she looked at you again, her gaze was intense– piercing almost.

You glare back at her, hoping she can feel your wrath from her peripheral since she has once agin directed her eyes back to the tv. “m’not your mate” 

You huff audibly, snatching your foot back from her grasp. You could feel the annoyance bubbling up inside you. Sure, you had both compromised that Leah gets to spend one day to watch the game uninterrupted. And yes, you did get your girlfriend all to yourself during the last five days, but you couldn’t understand why she was pushing you away like this. You were being selfish, but who wouldn't be when their girlfriend is being uncharacteristically mean about it.

When you were in one of your moods, you had a habit of muttering under your breath when things don't go your way, making scathing, albeit humorous, remarks. It wasn’t long before the sounds of you grumbling under your breath could be heard by your now equally moody girlfriend. 

“bloody football…this was supposed to be a birthday trip yet my girlfriend is spending time watching ugly men kick a ball around…we could’ve been snorkelling and exploring the reefs or having sex on a yacht but nooooooo apparently football is more interesting”

Sometimes Leah found it cute but other times, like today, your grumbling was annoying and it was distracting her from the game. The blonde just wants an hour or two to watch football uninterrupted, yet you can't even give her that. She smacks her hand down hard on the sofa, startling you and putting an end to your angry muttering. Leah turns to you and glares. “If you want to keep grumbling like that go do it somewhere else. You’re actually fucking pissing me off. don't know why I even put up with you” She groans the last bit as she rubs her forehead like you were some sort of nuisance to her.  

That did it. 

You were annoyed at the lack of affection from your girlfriend, and the same person that you wanted attention from was now mad at you. You glare at her right back, but your eyes were starting to water and you were getting the sniffles.

Wrestling the blanket off your lap like you were fighting an alligator, you swing your legs off the sofa, ready to stomp to the room and slam the door like a mature lady when Leah grabs your arm before you can move. “Sorry. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, baby” 

You angrily wipe away a traitorous tear as it slides down your cheek, trying to shake off the blonde’s grip but she holds firm. She moves to stand on her own two feet until she’s standing in front of you. Leah crouches down slightly, forcing your eyes to meet her blue ones. She frowns when she notices your tear stained cheeks. “Darling…hey, look at me, please”

You meet her eyes, albeit reluctantly. She rewards your effort with a kiss on your wet cheek. “I didn’t mean it. Don’t cry, please. You’re breaking my heart, baby” 

“Oyarzabal…Cucurella! 2-1 SPAIN!! Time is running out and Spain are nearly there. Oyarzabal hooks the ball out left to Cucurella, who beats a flagging Walker with a lovely diagonal ball into the box.The substitute is stretching ahead of Stones, having timed his run to perfection in between England's two centre-backs, and slides to put Spain back in front. This might just be it for England…”

Shit.

You head snapped towards the tv in shock, your annoyance disappearing. While you weren't personally rooting for any of the two teams, your English girlfriend was rooting for England so you automatically were rooting for England too. Not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You were anticipating a slew of cursed words from the Milton Keynes native, but her eyes had not left your face once, far too concerned about making sure you were okay. You were her number one priority, always. 

Taking a step closer to her, you rub the sides of her waist lightly. It was your turn to comfort your girlfriend. You hug her, pressing your head against her chest to listen to the rhythmic beating of her heart. It’s soothing and familiar, and any lingering feelings of frustration have completely disappeared. 

“The lads can pull one back” You say to her, peeking at the time running at the left top corner of the screen. Your girlfriend still hasn't said anything and you assume it's because she's sad about the score. “They’ve still got 10 minutes to equalise– plus additional time to play.” Just because you weren’t the biggest football fan out there did not mean you didn’t understand how the sport works. 

“Quit thinking about the match for a minute, baby, I don’t care about them right now. Are you sure you’re okay?” Leah pulls back slightly, cupping your face gently, and you lean into the warmth of her palms. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lee. I was just been silly” You pucker your lips up at her, and she grants your request with a grin. She kisses you once, and then again, pecking your lips repeatedly like she can’t get enough of you. 

You give her one more kiss, giving her a sharp bite on her lower lip before you pull away completely. Leah frowns at that, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure. 

“I’m going to grab my laptop and watch Desperate Housewives out on the hammock. I’ll leave you to your football–alone– so you can focus.”

“What no. Baby, you can’t leave me when we’re one nil down during a Euros final” Leah gestures animatedly at the TV, the scoreline still showing Spain in the lead. “Stay with me. Watch your show right here with me” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

Without waiting for you to reply, Leah began pulling you by the hand back to the sofa. She sat down, tugging you onto her lap. You just laugh, not even bothering to reach for your abandoned laptop on the other side of the sofa. You snuggle into her, your chest pressed together, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. Just because you agreed to stay with her, doesn’t mean you were interested in watching the match. 

A buzzing from the inside of your short’s pocket startles you slightly. You glance at the screen, reading the text, and then gasp. 

“love, my Chanel sales associate is asking me if I’d like to book an appointment at their store to see their new collection! There’s actually a cute bag that I've been thinking about…"

Leah hums, distracted slightly, not even looking at the phone screen that you are practically shoving into her face. “Yeah, we can get your bag once we arrive back home” 

You squeal, already texting your sales associate to go ahead and book you in. 

“–only if England win it” The typing stops and your heart drops. Your celebration cut short. 

“w-what…b-but, love…” You look up at her to see if she was serious, and to your dismay there's not a hint of playfulness in her gaze. She's serious. Glancing back at the screen, you see England have only 5 minutes left to equalise if they want to play for additional time, but the seconds are ticking by quickly. 

Scrambling off your girlfriend’s lap, you take your place beside her on the sofa instead. You have never been more motivated to cheer for a team your girlfriend was not playing for. Mustering all the manifestation in the universe, and your desperate need for that Chanel medium 25cm double flap shoulder bag in pink quilted lambskin leather with silver metal trim, you shout from the top of your voice “C’mon, England!!”

Leah just laughs loudly beside you, yelling and whooping too. 

However, sports can be a cruel thing sometimes.

England did not end up winning the Euros, much to the dismay of your girlfriend— and probably an entire nation. However, you got your bag anyway. Leah could never say no to you. She would give you the entire world if you asked for it, but luckily all you wanted is a pink Chanel bag– for now. 

More spoilt!reader x Leah because you all seem to enjoy her.

I wrote this the day after the Euros and then abandoned it because I got stuck and experience a writer's block halfway lol. Hope it still delivered.

-- kisses, butter.

[tartstealingknave]

hii so like i had an idea where like reader and the twst boys are like fighting but then the enemy like cut the readers shirt and bra in half (stay with me now) and i think it would be funny if the twst would be panicking lowk because they didnt know if reader got hurt but reader is js annoying that her fav bra got cut (and she might have to pay crowley for a new uniform) 😔

OKAYA OKAY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME SURE but lowkey when you said her bra got cut I was kinda suspicious on where this was going to untill I finished reading the whole thing, ANYWAYS!! (They lowkey me fr) I will write what you wish for...

Horrible accident

Riddle:

Absolutely worried if you got hurt lmao

Would probably be concerned about your mental health if you just say you didn't like how it ruined your favorite bra

Immediately checks if you're okay (like seeing if you got a scar or something)

Would be relieved that you didn't get hurt

Overall, he's gonna lecture you after the fight that you could've have gotten hurt and you only cared about your bra getting cut

Buys u a new one though

Leona

Lowkey this man is legit a woman respect juice drinker so he would look away before walking to you and covering his eyes while talking to you okay, we love woman respecters:3.

WORRIED BUT HIDES IT BUT FAILED MISERABLY

He literally thought you got SLASHED in the chest (by the enemy) but depending on how slashed you, if it's RSA then they boutta be prepared 😞 if it's a monster like random monster, then it's goodbye to their lives

Overall, he is worried and would NOT be disrespectful:3

He'll buy you a new bra lol

AZUL

Secretly SCREAMING internally in his mind when the fight is over dawg

Would send JADE (NOT FLOYD BC LOWKEY HE WOULD JUST LAUGH AT YOU B4 HELPING YOU) to check if you're okay if he notices that u legit got SLASHED that is VERY NEAR your CHEST

Would actually be redder then a tomato let's be fr

I'm not writing FANON azul okay (SPARE ME PLEASE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PLAY TWISTED WONDERLAND)

Worried by would calm himself down (he's gonna buy you a new bra dw)

Would probably send Floyd to taunt the enemy

KALIM ( I THINK)

Lwokey FREAKY

But terrified if you were hurt

LIKE HELLO

YOU JUST GOT SLASHED NEAR THE CHEST AND YOUR SHIRT AND BRA GOT CUT

ANYONE WOULD BE TERRIFIED

Laughs it off after he found out you were worried about your bra instead of yourself ☠️

Buys u a new one wink wink

VIL

do NOT let this man know☠️🙏

HE'S MORE WORRIED ABOUT YOUR SKIN AND BEAUTY (probably)

Sends rook to check up on during the fight btw

Rook is kinds freaky but makes sure ur alright

After the fight, expect to get dragged to the shopping mall or smth like that

Makes crowley make u a new uniform! 1! 1! 1! 1 yeayahayay

IDIA

YOU KNOW THIS MAN IS NOT ON THE BATTLE GROUND. BRO GOT FORCED

He was lowkey with you the entire fight so when he saw the enemy cut your shirt and bra

He freaked out

Very.

Bro's hair finna be orange and pink☠️☠️

Bros an interesting case cause I don't know how to write his personality

(Because he's an introvert and I'm basically a very very very experienced extrovert writer but lowkey I'm a introvert and extrovert combined soo)

Buys u a new bra through his tablet and like makes the shipper go to yours to deliver it (it's already paid dw)

MALLEUS

The enemy had a suicide note tbh

Bros fate got decided when malleus appeared behind him☠️

Later the enemy was out of the way!!! (Dead or like gone prbly ran away)

Checks up on u like looks away if the cut of the shirt is very large aka covers his eyes

Buys u a new bra and would lowkey pressure crowley into giving u a new uniform

I'M DONE I'M DONE finally THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES I JUST HAD NO MOTIVATION