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#reblog n put them in your tags!!
reel-fear · 1 year
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👁️👁️
You must tell 👀
*rubs my little hands together* sorry for taking a bit on answering this! My brain has not been braining lately but your ask couldn't have come at a better time bc Grant has been on the mind as of late and I am hyped at the excuse to infodump abt him- [this is gonna be long I am so sorry-]
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now for quick disclaimers for anyone reading this that isnt the asker or me- we're not discussing canon Grant Cohen, we're talking my Grant, this black haired dude, that guy. Another fun disclaimer, I was HEAVILY, inspired by Grant's role/character in abomination for my Grant. Taking time to awknowledge every part of his character or story that was inspired by it would make this 10x longer so if similarities are spotted know its very likely I did that on purpose bc I just really love abomination KJHFSDGKJDHGSD-
Alright with that outta the way I'ma talk a lot abt what happens to Grant in the canon of Showtime to explain what I meant and also maybe a bit of me rambling about aus that explore Grants relationship with Sammy n Joey under a more romantic lens. Should be obvious but spoilers for It's Showtime down below~
So Grant in Showtime after he dies ends up joining the ink demon cult, becoming a lost one and earning the title of The Priest.
When the cult was all together him and Sammy worked together to run it. Sammy used his connection to the ink demon to recieve messages and learn more on how to survive in this new situation and Grant made sure the lost ones acted accordingly. [A role not so far off from the one he was forced to take when the studio started facing troubles before his death] Grant also took the job of dealing with sacrificing souls and sending them back to the dark puddles, which sometimes was members of the following chosen at random and sometimes whatever poor soul found themselves captured by them.
However when Malice rose from the puddles and made a deal with the Projectionist to seize a considerable amount of the studio as theirs, the cult was split up, Sammy and Jack forced to flee to the music department and Grant with the rest of the following being down in the area of Chapter 4. This put Grant in a very bad spot, the lost ones were very shaken by this event and since then Grant worries their faith in him has wavered.
An important thing with the ink demon cult was that it is meant to be a more realistic take on how a cult works. The Ink Demon runs the cult, he is the most powerful figure in it and yet the hardest to contact, so Grant and Sammy are little more than middlemen tasked with keeping things running or else they face the ink demon's wrath. Sammy is sadly very aware that the ink demon is not as benevolent as he or the lost ones would like the believe. Grant likes to think being the Priest will at the very least protect him if things go wrong, but he is sadly mistaken.
Grant is in a very dangerous spot, he knows the lost ones beneath him are getting angsty and worried about just how truthfully safe the cult is or if they should believe in the power of the ink demon. But he also knows if things fall apart the lost ones will come to tear him apart long before they go for the ink demon. Despite him merely being a puppet for their lord. A role Grant is not ready to acknowledge, not because he isn't smart enough to see he is just a pawn, but because he chooses not to think about it, less his paranoia eat him alive yet again... A very important thing to keep in mind with Grants character.
Grant did in fact play this role in life as well however, when things started going wrong in the studio, Joey was very quick to turn away from what was going on and continue asserting everything would be fine. Which while a lie he himself believed was a lie nonetheless. However Grant quickly became his right hand man as people like Thomas and Wally started noticing cracks forming all through out the studio. Staff going missing, the ink changing in the way it behaved and an eerie feeling the machine created in both of them.
Grant despite deep down being smart enough to know things were going poorly, parroted Joey's words, hanging off of them himself and doing whatever he could to shut down any attempts to bring to light the things going wrong. Of course, him and Joey both ended up paying the price for their lies, but so did everyone else around them. But unlike Sammy, Grant barely even seemed shaken to see that, like a conspiracy theorist seeing evidence their theory isn't true only makes them double down harder, Grant only seemed to double down on the idea that if he followed every order he was given. Surely things would turn out better this time.
So that's canon to the story of Showtime, but I do want to take a second to get some AU non canon ideas out of my brain centering around Grant and his relationship to both Joey n Sammy. In canon Grant's only romantic interest is Thomas, his literal husband and there is a lot of interesting conflict there, but I fucking love shipping so of course I have a million aus merely indulging in ships I think would also be interesting to explore in their own contexts. In this case, I'm gonna ramble a bit about Sammy x Grant and Grant x Joey and the interesting things I think there are to explore in their relationships in Showtime.
So you might've noticed that while not literally [as saying the ink demon is Joey in Showtime, while somewhat true, is not the entire truth of the situation and simplifies it quite a bit] Grant did end up following Joey to the grave... And then kept following him beyond it. Something that is objectively~ very queer of him.
There's just something so compelling about the idea of Grant yearning for Joey so much, being so close yet so far as his right hand man but not being brave enough to become his lover eventually drove Grant's love for Joey to become an outright obsession. The idea that Grant's feelings for Joey became so intense from how hard he pushed them down it blinded him from seeing the truth of the situation outside of the way Joey painted it. Then dying and his obsession turning into an outright worship of him.
The idea of Grant settling for just being Joey's favorite lackey, his most loyal pet and knowing that's his role but not caring bc at least it makes him stay by Joey's side. Ohh it's an interesting one to say the least. I even did a few sketches of them u can see-
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They are doomed by the narrative to me and have been on my mind a lot lately can ya tell? KJDHSFGKJHDFSGKJHDFGSD
However when it comes to Sammy and Grant, I think there is a lot of interesting potential between them too. After all they share being the Ink Demon's henchmen in all of this and to see them both come to terms with that and try to find comfort in each other is such a fun idea to me.
An au where they both decide to ditch the cult and the ink demon and on their own try to figure out what happened to Joey and how to fix things is very compelling to me. I could see their relationship starting out as doing all these things for each other under the excuse they just need comfort until it starts to turn to actual feelings for each other. Both of them coming to terms with the fact Joey was not in fact a perfect person and maybe didn't even know how bad things were getting deep down himself but also finally letting themselves hold him accountable for the lies he told... It's a very fun healing narrative and very in line with a lot of the themes It's Showtime deals with.
Either way, I just really love what I've done with Grant's character in It's Showtime, he's for sure one of the most fascinating to me and the themes his story explores are ones that are important to the story as a whole and by extension me. Umm this turned out very long but I hope u enjoyed the read! Tysm for the excuse to infodump abt him, I was itching for one as u can see KDJHGKJDHFGKJDHFGSD.
#ramblez#dont think Ill main tag this since its very rambley and contains spoilers for its showtime-#but its okay to reblog n such#esp since I dont care tooooo much for spoiling my own stories#for me my stories should hold up regardless of whether or not youre surprised by what happens in em#but if anyone does care abt spoiling Showtime for themselves if or when I make it an actual fan game/story#do beware of this post KDJHFSGKJFGHJSD#sammy x grant#grant x joey#grammy#death and taxes#Music Multiplied#I think those are the ship names?#mostly for blacklisting reasons on here but if I can feed those crackships at least a little with this rant hey good for them <3#anyways fun tag secrets Ill put some fun trivia abt my grant in here#he uses the tommy gun instead of alice in showtime its joeys gun but he has it after everything goes to crap he mostly only uses it#just to keep norman away from the cult tho just know he is armed and dangerous and feral and unhinged and-#the cages in the chapter 4 area are used by grant as punishment for those who speak out or for people who havent yet come around to#worshipping the ink demon. obviously people in cages take priority as sacrifice options#my grant might struggle from a paranoia disorder I based him more off my own expierences and a bit off of research on ppl with OCD#Im not confident enough in my understanding of OCD to diagnose him with it straight up but he does almost for sure struggle with some sort#of paranoia disorder#anyways thats it tyty for the ask again and sorry for writing#five hundred paragraphs in response-
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scottstiles · 1 year
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i have written to them about this 10000 times and this is the first time i get this response.
THIS IS NOT EVEN TRUE BECAUSE MY SIDEBLOGS NEVER NEVER HAVE NEVER LOST THE TAGS !!!!!!!!!! NEVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!
BUT OH SO NOW SHE TELLS ME THEYRE DOING IT ON PURPOSE AND THERES NOWAY TO FIX IT WHAT THE FUCK
WHY WOULD I PUT MY FREQUENTLY TYPED TAGS IN THE FEATURED TAGS THEY ARE NOT FOR OTHER PEOPLE THEY ARE FOR ME!!!!!!!!!!!
SO NOW I CAN'T KNOW MY OWN TAGS EVER AGAIN?!!? EVERY MONTH I HAVE TO GO SEARCHING FOR THE CORRECT TAG OF SOMETHIN I HAVEN'T TAGGED IN ONE MONTH?!?! THE FUCK!??!?!?!??
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i2sunric · 1 month
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 (l.hs)
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PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)
SUMMARY: due to a storm, his parents are stuck in a motel for the night while you are stuck at his house. with wi-fi not working, heeseung can’t think of anything better than recreating the scenes of your smutty books.
WARNINGS: established relationship, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), fingering, standing sex (?), missionary, pussy eating, masturbation, dirty talking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), rough sex, chocking, i lied about the doggy style, pet names (angel, baby), lmk if more, NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 13th August 2024
WC: 3.7k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey (oneshot) @trizdoniki @love4hee @strayy-kidz @baribaaari @shirizula @astratlantis @jaeyungxrl @heestarry @heeseungismymanz @mitmit01 @rayofsunshineeee @heesexual74 @deezbin @jakeswifez @nikiswifiee @hqqj @diorfmu @isa942572 @yjwluvs @norihoyeon @starggukies @shiningnono @sunpov @iamliacamila @strawberrhypen @gnvi-eve @wildflowermooon @kaykay11sworld @erenswifesposts @star-hoon @aubaee @lvnglysunoo @heebear @enhypenlovre BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
a/n: honestly the intro sucks and so does the outro but i swear the smut is GOOD. literally 3k words of filthy porn ngl. enjoy lol. please LIKE & REBLOG to spread and let me knows your thoughts 💗
What was supposed to be a cozy Thursday night ended up in you being forced to stay at Heeseung’s house for the night.
Forced? Not really, you enjoyed the excuse of spending more time with your boyfriend. Because of a flooding caused by the storm outside, you weren’t able to go back home.
But neither were his parents, who were supposed to have a nice date and ended up being blocked by the horrible weather.
The sound of the raindrops tapping against the window filled the room as Heeseung turned off the shower.
You were laying on his bed with your back to the wall as you peacefully read your book, thankful that your sixth sense made you bring it.
Heeseung entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to dry his damp hair.
“Reading still?” He asked, nudging the book with toe. “Ew.” You stated, pushing his foot away “And yes.”
Heeseung just chuckled and moved to get his clothes from the drawer “Heard from your parents?”
He hummed “I called them before showering, they said they’ll stay at a motel,” He put his boxers on “But before they could say more, the line cut off.”
You threw a glance at the window “This storm is going to destroy a lot of things.”
Heeseung struggled to put on shorts and then rounded the bed, the mattress lowering where his weight was.
“I bet they’re having some wild sex right now.” You joked, flipping another page of your book.
Heeseung pinched your side “Ew? I don’t really want to think about my parents going at it.” He laughed, laying down beside you.
“Careful, you might have a brother soon.” You joked again, earning another gentle pinch.
A couple of minutes passed by and Heeseung groaned “Wi-fi doesn’t work.” He threw his phone at the end of the bed. “I can’t play games.”
“Poor you.” You cooed, caressing the hand he had placed on your hip, his chest pressed against your back.
“Can’t you put your book down and give me attention?” You could hear the pout in his voice “No boy, I’m at an important point.”
“Evil.” Heeseung murmured as he settled into a more comfortable position, strangely not going anywhere to do something else.
You felt his hand on your side, relaxed as well as his breath even. ‘He must’ve fallen asleep’, You thought, as you flipped another page of your book, unable to stop your eyes from reading the scene unfolding before you.
If Heeseung was to casually open his eyes and read even one line of the chapter, he would certainly make fun of you.
Who even reads smut in their boyfriend’s bed?
You felt his hand flex on your stomach but you didn't really mind, he would always move uncontrollably when asleep— sometimes, even kicking you.
As your mind proceeded the words written down on paper, your body reacted to it, almost unconsciously.
You could feel your core pulse in need, your body temperature raising and at the same time goosebumps appeared on your skin.
It always happened, you couldn’t help the way your imagination wandered with the characters of the book, the tension and the way they cared for each other. It was all too tempting, you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies.
But your boyfriend was sleeping and you didn’t want to disturb him, knowing he already had troubles falling asleep — the reason why he always stayed up late to play games —, so you kept quiet.
You felt Heeseung shift behind you, the hand on your stomach circling your waist until he was able to pull you against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.
You held your breath as he changed position, not making any sudden movement while he used you like you were a teddy bear.
Gulping down, you waited a few beats before focusing your attention back on the chapter.
It’s not like you and Heeseung had never gone further than third base, but it was always so… vanilla.
You longed for someone to use you for your own pleasure, to talk you through your multiple orgasms, to mark you up and manhandle you like a doll.
But you would never have the courage to confess that to Heeseung.
Yes, you two had been together for almost a year and half though you weren’t ready to open up to your contorted fantasies. Afraid that he may run away, you loved him too much for that.
So, you hid in your imagination, burying your nose in books that filled the void inside of you.
Letting out a quiet sigh, you tried to calm the fire igniting your bones, but your hips shifted uncomfortably, the ache between your legs too strong to be ignored.
Suddenly, Heeseung spoke to your ear, voice low and husky “You want to show me too?” You jolted and closed the book, catching your finger in middle, hissing at the pain.
You turned your face around and caught his gaze, something different inside it. Something primal.
“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You said, blinking faintly and Heeseung smirked, “I was reading with you.”
He reached the book from your hand and like a fool, you let him take it. He opened the page where you had left your finger in and cleared his throat “He looked at her with a strange urge, his attention gliding to her face,” He started reading.
“His voice was low when he said ‘Show me, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the middle of the night’.”
The heat that was once in your stomach moved to your cheeks, embarrassment coating your expression.
“It’s just a chapter, I was skipping it.” You tried to reach back for your book but he held it up, sitting “Ah, lying is bad, Y/N.”
Heeseung’s smirk was cocky “You seemed pretty into it.” You scoffed, “Give it back.”
Your boyfriend was clearly enjoying it, the way you blushed and the flustered look on your face. He licked his bottom lip and eyed you up and down.
Only when you lowered your gaze, unable to meet his, did you notice the hard-on he was sporting. Was he enjoying it the same way you were?
“There’s no wi-fi.” He stated, “And my parents aren’t home, don’t you think we should occupy our time?”
This side of him was something you had never seen, perhaps, had he the same hidden likings as yours? Looked like you were about to find out.
“How?” You asked, your voice hoarse, barely yours. Heeseung glanced back at the page and said “Take off your shorts.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, “W-What?” And he just chuckled darkly “Do you think I didn’t notice your body language, mh? Do you think I didn’t see how you were craving… this?” He raised the book.
“Now, take off your shorts or I’ll have to do it myself.” Normally, you would comply, but you were feeling bold, adrenaline shooting in your veins, so you said instead, “Make me.”
His eyes darkened, his brow raised. He placed the book on the bed and crawled towards you as you backed away until your back hit the headboard.
He kept eye contact while his fingers hooked around your shorts, and instead of his usual slow pace, he yanked them off.
You gasped at the sudden force, soon enough your shorts were laying on the floor “Isn’t this what you want?” He questioned.
“You want someone to dominate you, uh? To show you what’s your place?” Your whole body shivered from his words as you mindlessly nodded.
“All this time I’ve been gentle, afraid to make you uncomfortable,” He gripped your panties “But all you wanted was to be fucked, hard, isn’t it?” He ripped them off you, the sound of fabric stretching making you gasp again.
He smirked and threw the messy fabric on the floor, with your shorts “So, I’ll follow what you like.” He pointed at the book resting on the duvet “Play with yourself.”
You widened your eyes. Heeseung’s behaviour was different from his usual one, though you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Lord, you were drenched just from his words and he could see it, the way your juices coated your pussy, spread in front of him.
You gulped and slowly moved your hand down, reaching your clit which you started circling.
A soft hum escaped your lips at the sweet feeling and you watched him, his gaze so primal and full of lust as he took in the sight of you touching yourself.
Just a few beats passed before he asked “You know what she does now, right?” And you nodded, lifting your hand up to his lips. He hummed and took them inside his mouth, his warm tongue twirling around your digits.
The taste of you, even if it was just brief, was enough to make his head spin, so delicious and intoxicating.
You removed them “Let me watch while you fuck yourself.” He said and was suddenly aware of your position. Of how open you were in front of him, your folds clenching around nothing.
Heeseung raised an impatient brow and you hurried to coat your fingers in your juices, rubbing them against your entrance before thrusting one inside.
You moaned, your fingers brushing against your g-spot right away, given all the times you’d done this.
Heeseung licked his bottom lip, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth, on his tongue. He could feel his shorts grow tighter by the minute, his desire for you overtaking any rational thought.
“One more baby, I know you can take it.” He urged and you complied, adding a second digit to your ministration.
Heeseung let out a groan, his eyes locked on you as you brought pleasure to yourself. He quickly took the book back in his hands and flicked the page, a wicked smile on his lips.
“Yeah, bet you’ll like this.” He said as he pushed himself down the bed and took you by the back of your thighs, tilting your body until it was pending at the edge of the bed.
You stopped your movements and pulled your fingers out with a ‘POP’ sound, resting on your elbows to look down at him “Hee?”
“Don’t worry, angel.” He pried your legs open, his breath fanning on your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes “Just need to taste your sweet pussy.”
And then you felt it, the swipe of his tongue across your folds, your mind clouding from the pleasure as soft gasps escaped your lips.
Heeseung ate you like a starved man, alternating sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his strong grip prevented you from squirming around.
You rocked your hips against his mouth, needing to chase the pleasure building inside your lower belly.
You reached a hand and placed it on his head, your fingers tangling in his locks, “Mh, that’s it, angel.” He murmured, “Fuck my tongue.”
And so you followed his orders, moving with deep and slow thrusts, just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your jody as Heeseung stuck his warm tongue inside of you.
Soon, your movements grew sloppier and faster, your lips parted “I’m— I’m gonna—“ And before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you, making your back arch off the bed, your legs shaking.
“This was so hot, baby.” Heeseung pressed a few more kitten licks on your clit before raising himself, caressing your thighs with his thumbs.
You looked up at him, your breath still uneven from the great amount of pleasure he had put you in.
He gave you a small smirk before reaching behind you and taking your forgotten book back. He flipped the pages “Spoiler, she gives him a BJ.” He said.
You chuckled, your body now recovered as you sat up “And you don’t want it?” You batted your eyelashes.
Heeseung took a steady breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He quickly searched further one the book, scanning lines and as he found something he liked, he pointed at it, a small laugh escaping his lips.
“As much as I love feeling your mouth around me, I want to feel you whole.” He murmured.
You sat up, crawling towards him to the edge of the bed “Maybe I want to.”
His breath caught in his throat, your vicinity and your words going straight to his cock “The way she does.”
Heeseung went back to the chapter where it all started, scanning the lines until he read “After making her see stars, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze dangerous. ‘Your moans were so sweet, darling.’ He murmured, lowering his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung free.” He paused to gulp.
“He took the back of her head and moved her ‘till her neck bent in an awkward position, his red tip brushing against her lips.” He lowered the book.
“Is this how you want it? Rough?” Heeseung questioned and you nodded “Might as well follow the script.” You shrugged.
A low groan built in his throat, you tugged the hem of his shirt “This off?” Your eyes glistened with fake innocence.
Heeseung swiftly worked his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. It’s not like you had never seen him without a shirt on, you were used to him during beach dates or pool parties, but it was always so breathtaking.
Heeseung smirked, noticing the way your hungry stare was studying his chest. In the blink of an eye his shorts joined his shirt, his cock hard and angry, some pre-cum smeared over the tip.
“Be a good girl and open up for me,” He murmured as he climbed on the bed, his hand clutching the headboard to keep himself steady.
You quickly laid down, his hips hovering on your face. You looked up at him, doe-eyes looking ever so pure… And then you took him all in your mouth.
Heeseung threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, your head bobbing back and forth.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, his eyes meeting yours “So good, always so good.”
He caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing gently your skin as his hips bucked, meeting your pace.
He then pulled out, making you frown which was soon transformed when his lips met yours.
You could feel his cock twitching between your breasts, one of his hands squeezing it as his lips claimed yours.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, both of your tongues moving together, his spit down your throat.
He was delaying his orgasm, you noted, because he would’ve cum just from a few licks of yours.
And then he pulled his lips away from yours to thrust his throbbing length inside your mouth again “Mh… Yes— Shit. You’re so good, angel. Mouth made just for me.” He praised as he moved.
You hummed, sending waves of pleasure all through his body.
You gripped his thighs, bobbing your head faster, desperate to bring him the pleasure he deserved.
Heeseung understood and gripped the headboard with both of his hands, his hips thrusting inside of your warm and wet mouth. He hit the back of your throat, making you gag “I’m so close.” He breathed out.
At his words, you ignored the burning sensation building in your throat and hollowed your cheeks, with a few more thrusts he was emptying himself with a groan.
When he pulled out, you licked any drop of cum that spilled out your mouth and hummed happily.
Heeseung chuckled, leaning down again to capture your lips in a messy but loving kiss.
You playfully bit his bottom lip and he pulled away, yelping “Brat.”
You smiled at him and sat up, your voice just briefly hoarse “What happens next?”
Heeseung’s gaze darkened but his words were serious “You sure you want to continue?” He sighed softly, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”
You smiled reassuringly and beckoned to the book “Time to change chapter.”
Heeseung let out a quiet groan, his cock visibly twitching “He fucks her against the wall.” He narrated what he had read “Hard, hand around her throat… is that what you want?”
Just the idea of doing it that way had you drenched down there, a shiver ran along your spine “Yes, Hee.” You breathed out, and to emphasise you add “I need it.”
“My nasty girl.” He practically growled as he got up from the bed, taking you with him and slammed you against the wall of his bedroom.
You yelped when your back hit the cold surface, the tapping of the raindrops on the window your background music.
Heeseung claimed your lips again as one of his hands snuck to squeeze your backside, his fingers kneading it.
You could again feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, its warmth infecting your core.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” He whispered on you throat “To have you milk my cock as I take you so hard you can’t say a coherent word.”
You rocked your hips against his, a clear effect of his words, your arms wrapped around his neck.
As if you weighed nothing, he raised you and you wrapped your legs around his sculpted waist.
Without any warning except for the aligning of his cock, he slammed deep inside of you, making you moan out.
Heeseung wasn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen, but he surely was the longest. You could feel him so deep, he could probably even reach your stomach if he tried hard enough.
You gripped the back of his neck like your life depended on it as he moved without any mercy, pulling all the way out until the tip just to slam back in, knocking the air out of your lungs.
He snuck one hand between your breasts and reached your throat, wrapping it around it. He gripped, not enough to choke you but good enough to make you light-headed.
His cock pounded hard into you, driving your brain into nothing but a puddle of his name, the one you screamed and moaned.
Your nails dug into his shoulders and he grunted, rewarding you with a deeper thrust, one you can almost feel in your centre, where the familiar knot was tightening.
Your eyes rolled back, just moans and whimpers escaping your lips.
Heeseung removed the hand from your throat and gripped your neck instead, letting your lungs that were screaming in protest fill with air up to their capacity.
He moved so your forehead pressed against his, both of you panting in each other’s mouth, your pussy clenching around him.
He groaned, he put one of his hands on the wall to steady himself as his hips kept bucking fast on yours, the sound of skin slapping mixing up with the rain’s.
“Is this what you like, baby?” Heeseung asked, moving his face to gently nip on your neck.
Your whole body felt sensitive from the attention he was giving it, from his small hickeys to the way he kept hitting your sweet spot “Y-yes.” You croaked out “Feels s’good, fuck.”
Heeseung grinned and stilled, twitching inside of you with a groan.
Before you could even comprehend it, he had you with your back on the mattress, never pulling out of you.
Your legs spread open, eager to feel him in you, to let him claim him.
“Fuck,” He grunted out, his pace never once faltering as he gripped your thighs to help himself, surely there would be marks the next day “Feels like heaven inside of you.”
You answered with a muffled whimper, not sure if your brain could even form out a word anymore.
He leaned on you, chest pressed against chest as he hid his face in the crook of his neck, his hot breath hitting your skin.
You rolled your eyes back, the pleasure building inside of you almost unbearable “Hee..” You breathed out, gripping his forearm to warn him where words couldn’t reach.
“I know,” He murmured, “Me too, baby…”
You cried out as you tried to delay your orgasm the same way he could do, but the pleasure was too much and before you could even try to resist more, you saw white.
Your back arched off the bed and squirmed around, your walls clenching tight around Heeseung who, despite your state, never stopped thrusting.
“Shit— Where do you want it?” He asked, because it was in some ways a first timer. First time going rough, first time going raw.
You couldn’t find your voice, your eyes watery from the impact of your orgasm, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him.
He frowned “Are you— Fuck.” You felt his cum filling you up to the brim, the sensation so sweet a gasp left your lips as he rocked slowly, adrenaline lowering.
After a couple of minutes where neither of you had the energy to move, Heeseung raised himself and offered you a warm smile “How was it?” He questioned as he stood up.
The sight of you, sprawled on his bed with both your seeds running down your thighs was enough to make him pop another boner, which earned him a side eye from you.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Heeseung chuckled, opening one of the drawers to retrieve one of his shirts and helping you in it. He then carefully cleaned you up, dried the sweat running down your forehead and after putting back on his shorts and underwear, he laid beside you.
One of his arms snuck around your shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “You’ll have to go commando, since I ripped your panties.” You giggled, hugging him tighter.
“I really enjoyed… this.” Heeseung smirked, “I bet.” He glanced at the book, now resting on the bedside table “Come to me when you start another book, yeah?”
Heeseung absentmindedly squeezed your breast through the shirt “I’ll make sure to recreate it all… even may steal some of the lines.”
Content that he wasn’t going to judge you for your strange likings, rather supporting them, you let yourself be held as the storm outside slowly died, the breeze hitting your skin as you fell asleep, safe in his arms.
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hoshigray · 8 months
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞 [𝐍𝐎𝐓]!! | a JJK series
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𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!” “BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU!” It’s no secret to anyone on this Earth that you and Gojo cannot stand each other. Despite that, the world seems amused to put these two star-crossed lovers haters in the same space. Or worse, have them dwell deeper into their feelings for one another…
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers + mutual pining - fluff + angst + misunderstandings - first kiss - virginity loss - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - secret relationships; implied friends-with-benefits - sex in shared rooms; college dorms + hotel suite - college parties - use of party games (seven minutes in heaven) - confessions - mention of drug/alcohol abuse - humor bc Gojo and college, lol - Gojo is a cocky, tactless sweetheart, nothing new - cameos of other characters + explicit content will be listed in their respective fics (within the contents).
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: when I say that I had this series planned out, I mean like mid-October last year planned out, lmaoo!! I'm honestly so psyched to do this series, as it's one of my favorite tropes + relatively short as I'll be busy irl, but we'll do what we can!! i was lowkey feeling this concept when i was re-watching Ranma 1/2 and figured it would work great with Gojo. So, here's to hoping i can properly execute my thoughts with this series, hehehe~
reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ❤︎ gif header made by me + fic dividers used are provided by the wonderful @cafekitsune and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!!
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𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑰𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒊𝒓...
All the material below contains explicit 18+ content, so minors do not interact.
₊˚⊹♡ 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 (Feb 1st)
The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?
₊˚⊹♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 (Feb 7th)
Is it possible to wish to be in the embrace of someone who makes you want to throw them off a cliff? You seem to think so, and the same goes for Gojo. But alas, good things always come to an end, even when not meant to be...
₊˚⊹♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 (Feb 14th)
Going on a date with the guy who broke your heart is something you’d never thought would happen – especially on Valentine’s Day! But it’s just for him to be in your good graces again, nothing more…Yeah, go ahead and tell yourself that.
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𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖!
Would you like to be tagged when these pieces get released? Lmk in the replies, please, and thank you!
𝑻𝑨𝑮 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑫!!! Have made a list of the first 50 ppl who asked, but don't worry!! Check back for the stories when they're posted on their respective dates!!
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ These stories have been written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.
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ccwpidsblog · 2 months
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ISSANUTBBY | onyakopon
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summary: you didn't really get the 'moaning and whimpering' epidemic.
pairing: pornstar!only x hyperfem!reader
content warning: country ony, male masturbation, degradation, rample fap, pervy onya, p hub link, idk how to tag
a/n: I was gonna gatekeep my favorite asmrist but for the sake of the fic i gave it up 😕
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sighing as the uptenth tiktok about moaning audios from boyfriends, and being talked through it appeared on her for you page. these were just two things she's never experienced in her 21 years of living.
so she decided to do her own research.
boyfriend asmr did nothing but make her giggle, and she mildly liked the whimpering audios but it also makes her cringe. until she stumble upon 'issanutbaby' nose turned at the name but still she clicked and scrolled.
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endless audios and a couple videos with lewd titles filled her computer screen, heat rising to her face eyes scanning the ridiculously large package and oily, dark skinned muscular chest that showcased on each thumbnail.
finally making up her mind on a video with a less vulgar title 'ramblefap livestream' the show began. watching the dark skinned lean back into his chair, music low in the background as he smirked at the camera, the sliver grilz on his canines peaking. face never showing just his two toned lips glossy lips, pink tongue, body and huge half hard package.
he wasnt talking yet, just rolling the thick blunt between his pretty hands, tounge lapping at the papers with a smirk. "wish that was you huh?" talking with deep low rasp with a hint of southern twang that made her toes curl and boy did she definitely did wish it was her. he sparked it up taking a long drag, the smoke illuminating his sexiness even more.
"there's this girl I always see." he started with a groan. "a lil' thing she is." chuckling as he took another hit of his wood.
" always running around campus like a chicken wit 'er head cut off. it's cute but girls like that don't usually go for niggas like me. usually so stuck and in their books and looking fora nerdy ass engineer."
his lips pouted slightly as he shakes his head, "y'all saying why not talk to her? shiii ion' even know why i ain't approached her sexy ass."
humming he blew the smoke up as his unoccupied hand went to palm his growing erection. "always walking around in them lacy dresses and bows."
"fuck. was watching her last Friday and she dropped one 'er glittery ass notebooks. saw of peek of her panties and." he freed his cock hard and proud from the opening of his underwear. spitting on his hand as he began the stroke his piece. "saw that fat ass pussy through her pink panties"
he grunted, wood in his mouth as he leaned back into his chair hips slightly bucking up into his hand. "ima pervert?" he sounded amused as he squeezed his two-toned tip causing it to leak sticky, clear precum.
"who really the pervert? i think y'all are perverts. watching me stroke my shit, waiting for me to buss all over myself."
he laughed, your panties began to feel slick as you watched the glistening brown cock twitch as he talked, he was leaking down onto the floor, and his heavy balls caused a loud smacking sound to fill your air pods. "Fuckin' brats ion' think y'all deserve this nut."
you jump out your skin as your roommate annie enters the room. she frowns at your reaction, dumping her bags on the ground. "the hell. . you watching porn or something?"
"no! what? why would you even say that." you squeak out, with wide eyes. watching her lip lift in amusement as she slowly stalks your way. "oh reallyyy lemme see your laptop."
standing to your feet you clench your laptop to your chest, practically hissing at the blonde who puts her hands up in defeat.
"you got it princess"
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© CCWPIDS'BLOG2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly encouraged ꢾ꣒
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navybrat817 · 5 months
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In a Red Dress
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.
Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.
It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.
“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.
And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.
“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”
Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”
Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?
At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.
“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”
You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.
“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”
Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”
“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.
“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”
Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.
“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”
You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”
“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”
Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.
“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.
You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”
His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”
You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”
“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”
“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”
Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.
Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.
Right?
Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”
He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.
Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.
“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”
His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”
His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.
You loved him, too.
Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”
The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.
Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?
You wouldn't mind either way.
“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”
“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”
“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”
“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”
You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.
“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”
The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.
“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”
Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.
You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.
“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.
“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”
Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.
He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”
You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.
His cock made your mind numb, but your pussy made him run his mouth.
“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”
“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”
Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.
You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.
“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”
You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.
You could give him one more.
“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”
He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.
The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.
“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.
He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”
“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.
“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.
“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”
Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.
You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.
He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”
You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”
And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.
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Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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pedrospatch · 4 months
Text
splash
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: You come home from your first day back out on patrol and find Joel giving your daughter a bath.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. GIRLDAD!JOEL. established relationship. this specific work does not mention reader’s age (other works in this series may mention she is younger than Joel), no physical description of reader, Rosemary comes with a slight physical description (she has Joel’s hair color/hair type and eye color, no mentions of her skin tone). brief mention of Sarah, brief mention of Joel being a single father pre outbreak, Joel and Ellie are fine because i said so and it’s what he deserves, okay? general fluff and a lot of cuteness, brief smutty themes, but nothing explicit. minimal editing.
word count: 2.3k
a/n: short little thing, but this feels like the cutest thing i have written in a while. if you enjoy it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment <33
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Joel sighs to himself as he scrapes the remnants of Rosemary’s lunch into the bin of food scraps beside the kitchen counter—the neighbor’s chickens were in for a real treat tomorrow morning when he dropped them off on his way to patrol. He had just about coaxed his two and a half year old daughter into eating the crust of her jam sandwich when Ellie walked into the kitchen with a soccer ball tucked under her arm, a trade he was fairly certain she’d made more for the toddler’s sake than her own.
She was sixteen now, spent more time with her friends than she did with her family lately, but her soft spot for the little girl always, always brought her back home.
“Hey kid, look what I’ve got,” Ellie had grinned, holding the ball out for the child to see. “What do you say we go out back and kick this thing around? Sound like fun?”
He frowned, the creases between his brows deepening.
“Ellie, can’t you see I’m in the middle of feedin’ her—”
But it had been too late.
Rosie’s dark brown eyes widened, and she squealed in delight. “Down! Down!” she had exclaimed, whacking her teeny hands down on top of her wooden high chair on either side of her plate. “Daddy! Down, want down!”
Joel decided to put his foot down.
Well, he had tried to put his foot down, anyway.
“Not ‘til you’ve finished every last bite, babygirl. Y’gotta finish your sandwich and eat all your carrots, alright?”
“M’all done,” she’d insisted, placing both hands on her belly. Although Joel would have preferred she clean her plate, you had taught him to honor her fullness cues.
“We have to listen to Rosemary,” you’d told him. “If she says she’s full, then she’s full. The last thing we want to do is force her to keep eating when she’s not hungry, Joel. Her relationship with food starts with us, after all.”
“You’re startin’ to sound like that goddamn child rearin’ book,” he had teased you, earning himself a stern glare.
He liked to give you a hard time about it, but the truth of the matter was, that parenting book you found in the library turned out to be pretty helpful for both of you—while this wasn’t Joel’s first rodeo, the last time he had been around a child this young was over three decades ago. With Sarah, he’d flown through her childhood by the seat of his pants, went through a lot more trial and error scenarios than he liked to admit.
Often, Joel found himself feeling guilty. He tried to give some credit to the clueless young man in his twenties, the one who had been left to raise his baby girl all on his own when her mom couldn’t take it anymore after one year. Things turned out alright, but whenever he sees you with Rosemary, takes in the way you pour your entire heart into being a good mother to yours and his daughter, he can’t help but reminisce on his first life, on all those moments he felt so hopeless—all of those moments when he didn’t know what to do, and had no one to turn to for help. No one to lean on.
Oh how he wished Sarah could have known what it was like to have both of her parents at her side.
Like Rosie does.
Sighing, Joel places her plate in the sink, along with his own. He turns and glances at the clock on the wall—it’s half past noon, and he knows your early morning patrol group should be arriving back to the town’s main gates any minute now. Sure, caring for Rosemary had served as a decent distraction, but every so often, his anxieties would creep up on him. He worried about you being out there on the other side of the wall. And if you being out there wasn’t bad enough, you were out there without him.
“I’m back on the patrol roster next week,” you informed him one evening while the two of you were cleaning the kitchen after supper. You winced when he dropped the plate in his hands into the sink, the loud clanking noise bouncing off the walls. You wasted no time in pleading your case. “It’s been almost three years, Joel. I have to get back to pulling my weight around here. As much as I’d love to, I can’t stay home forever, and you know that as well as I do.”
Slowly, he’d spun around to face you, the muscle in his jaw ticking—he wasn’t happy. “Find another job,” he bit through his teeth. “Somethin’ in town. Somethin’ safe.”
“Joel—”
“You’re a mother now!” he hissed, angrily.
“And you’re a father,” you’d countered without missing a beat. Knowing Joel’s reaction was only coming from a place of concern, you walked up to him and placed a hand on his heaving chest, right over his racing heart in an effort to calm him. “Look, I’m just capable of getting myself home safely as you are, alright? And if it makes you feel any better, I’ll be partnered with Tommy. He’ll have my back.”
He’d found very little consolation in that.
Joel sighs again and reaches for the faucet.
“Uh, Joel?” Ellie’s voice comes from behind him.
“What?” He turns around, his jaw dropping open when he sees her standing there, carefully holding Rosemary out towards him by her underarms. She’s covered from head to toe in mud. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“You know how it was raining for like three days?” Ellie shoots him a sheepish smile. “The ball went into a mud puddle, and well, she sorta went in after it.”
“Jesus Christ, she’s filthy!” Exasperated, Joel narrows his eyes at her. “Why weren’t you watchin’ her?”
“I was, but she was too fast! Kid’s a little speed demon, man. Aren’t ya, Rosie?”
Rosie giggles and kicks her dangling feet, mud dripping off her tiny, leather oxford shoes and onto the floor with an audible splatter.
“She’s gonna be home from patrol any minute now,” he says, shaking his head. “If she sees Rosie like this, she’ll have my ass, and yours.” Carefully, he takes Rosemary from Ellie’s hands, holding her out and away from him. He jerks his chin towards the dirty floor. “Clean up this mess while I take her upstairs and give her a bath. We might just be able to get away with this.”
She gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, old man.”
“C’mon, Rosie Posie. Let’s get you all washed up before mama gets home and puts all three of us in a timeout.”
She gives him a wide, toothy smile. “Okay, daddy.”
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Groaning, you shove through the front door.
You had underestimated how difficult it would be to get back in the saddle of a horse after almost three years of not being in one.
It would take some getting used to—again.
“Fuck,” you hiss, closing the door and leaning against it for support. Your knees. Your thighs. Your lower back.
There isn’t a single part of you that isn’t aching.
After taking a minute to collect yourself, you push away from the door and toe off your old, brown leather boots, leaving them there near the entryway. You call out, “I’m home!”
“Oh hey!” From seemingly out of nowhere, Ellie comes speeding down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of you with her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Just the person I wanted to see! Mind if I head over to Dina’s for a while?”
“How long is a while, El?”
“She invited me to stay for dinner.”
You raise a knowing eyebrow at her, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Again?”
Flushing, Ellie nods. “Yeah.”
“Did you ask Joel for permission?”
“Aw come on, man! Do I really have to ask Joel?” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “I can hear him bitching at me already.” Dropping her voice several octaves, she starts to mimic him, accent and all. “Y’been spending every fuckin’ night over there. Don’t you forget you’ve got a family, kiddo.”
Amused, you chuckle and lightly nudge her shoulder. “I have to take his side on this one, Ellie. It would be nice for the four of us to have dinner together. You know, like we used to before Dina came into the picture?” 
“I’ll stay home for dinner for the rest of the week,” Ellie swears, clasping her hands together. “Please?”
Sighing in defeat, you step aside. “Alright, go ahead. I’ll hold you to your word though, alright?”
“Thank you!” she grins as she breezes past you and out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Shrugging out of your jacket, you hang it up in the hall closet and then head upstairs. “Joel? Are you up here?” There’s no answer. You pass by Rosemary’s room first and peek inside only to find it empty. Furrowing a brow, you head a bit further down the hallway into yours and Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you hear his voice coming from the en suite bathroom.
There, you find him kneeling on the tile floor beside the tub, his back to you as he gives your daughter her bath. Hours ahead of her normal schedule, you realize.
Casually leaning against the doorframe, you cross your arms over your chest, and quietly watch them, your lips already curling into a smile.
“What’s this?” Joel asks her, holding up a yellow rubber duck. It’s almost comical how small it looks in the palm of his large hand.
“Duckie!” Rosemary answers, enthusiastically.
He nods. “S’right, honey. It’s a duckie. And what sound does a duckie make?”
Craning your neck, you catch a glimpse of her sweet little face as she stares at him, her expression a mingle of equal parts curiosity and confusion.
“C’mon now, babygirl,” Joel prompts her, handing her the toy. “Mama taught you this already, remember?”
She looks at the rubber duck and thinks, thinks, thinks. 
After a minute, Rosie gasps and shouts, “Quack!”
“S’right! Good job, Rosie,” he praises. Leaning over the edge of the tub, he presses a kiss into her damp, dark brown curls. “That’s my girl. You’re so smart.”
“Quack!” Giggling, Rosie lifts her chubby arms over her head, bringing them down into the water with all of her might, splashing Joel. She does it over and over again, soaking his face and the front of his denim shirt as she chants, “Quack, quack, quack!”
“Alright, alright, alright!” Joel laughs, shaking his head. He lifts an arm, wiping at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “S’enough, my little duck. Daddy already had his shower today.”
Grinning, you saunter up behind him, and with a bit of protest from your back, you bend over to kiss the top of his head. You say in jest, “Without me?”
“Mama!” Rosie cries happily, reaching for you.
“Hi baby, I missed you!” Leaning down further, you kiss her cheek, the soothing, calming scent of her lavender soap invading your senses. Drawing yourself back up to full height, you glance down at Joel with suspicion. “Is there any particular reason you’re giving her a bath so early today?”
You can tell he’s contemplating lying to you. That is, until your eyes flicker over to her muddy clothes, which lie in a heap next to the hamper.
He’d forgotten to get rid of the evidence.
“Joel? What happened to my child?”
“We, uh, we had a little problem earlier this afternoon,” Joel explains, his ears burning red. “She was out in the backyard playin' with Ellie and she got into one of the mud puddles.”
“Rosemary Miller!” you playfully scold her. Placing your hands on your hips, you ask,“Is that true, young lady? Did you get into a mud puddle?”
Rosie beams. “Yeah!”
Rolling your eyes, you laugh and shake your head. “You silly girl.”
“Thought you’d be mad, darlin’,” Joel admits, peering up at you in relief.
“Joel, all that I ask when I leave her alone with you and Ellie is that I come home and she’s still in one piece,” you tease him.
Dipping his hand into the water, Joel splashes you, and of course, Rosemary decides to follow his lead and she does the same, bursting into another fit of giggles.
“Get her, Rosie, get her!” he encourages her. 
“Hey!” You jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet. “Cut it out! You’re getting water everywhere!”
About an hour later, once both Rosie and the bathroom floor are dry, Joel puts her down for her long overdue afternoon nap. He heads back into the bedroom where you’re digging in a drawer for a pair of clean leggings and a sweatshirt. He comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. He inhales deeply. 
“Ew, Joel, stop it! I’m all filthy,” you say, wiggling to get away from him. 
Joel holds you tighter. “Mm, I love it when you’re filthy, baby,” he smirks. “C’mon. She’s out for at least an hour. We’ve got some time to ourselves.”
“I’m so sore,” you whine. “From riding a horse all day.”
His lips find the shell of your ear and he whispers, “Too sore to ride me, darlin’?”
Biting back a tiny whimper, your head falls back onto his shoulder as wet heat pools between your thighs. He lightly nips at your pulse point, his teeth scraping your tender, delicate flesh.
“Jesus,” you breathe when he presses into you. You feel him against the small of your back—he’s already hard. “Can you at least let me bathe first?”
Joel hums. “I’ve got a better idea, baby.” Spinning you around, he reaches for the buttons of your shirt. “How’s about we save some water and shower together?”
“Thought you already had a shower today,” you remind him of what he’d said earlier.
He pushes your shirt off your shoulders and licks his lips. “I’m sure as hell up for another one.”
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divider credit to @/saradika 🩵
1K notes · View notes
neowinestainedress · 2 months
Text
wave | lee donghyuck
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pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)
a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.
masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)
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Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.
You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.
Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.
You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.
Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.
You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.
Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.
That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.
You simply couldn’t care.
Yet.
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Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.
He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.
Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.
He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.
Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.
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You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.
You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.
“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”
You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.
“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.
“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”
He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”
“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.
“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.
“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”
“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.
“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.
“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”
“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”
“Oh, you can be sure I will.”
Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.
But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.
But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?
Haechan is going to find out.
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You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.
It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.
That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.
Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.
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Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.
He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.
So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.
“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”
“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.
You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”
Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.
“Mind to explain?”
“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”
“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”
“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.  
“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”
“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.  
You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”
“You think I did that on purpose?”
“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”
“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.
“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”
He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”
“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”
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The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.
“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.
You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”
He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”
You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”
“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”
“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”
The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.
“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”
“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”
“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”
“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.
You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”
“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”
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Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.
You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?
You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.
“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”
You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”
“Come in.”
You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.
“Mark, can you lower the music?”
“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”
“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.  
“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”
“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.
“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.
Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”
You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.
“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.
You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.
“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.
“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”
“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”
“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”
Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.
“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”
You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”
“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”
“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”
“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”
Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.
“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”
“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”
“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”
“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”
“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”
“I can,” he retorts smugly.  
“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.
Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.
“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”
Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.
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The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.
Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.
“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”
“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”
“Grating? Really?”
“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.
You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.
“I am studying.”
“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?
“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”
“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”
“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.
“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.
“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”
“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”
You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”
“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.
“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”
“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”
You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”
“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.
You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.
Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”
“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”
“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.
He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”
“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.
“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.  
You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”
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You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.
“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.
“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.
“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”
“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.
“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”
You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”
“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.
“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”
Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”
“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”
“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.
“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”
Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.
“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.
“Would you mind?”
“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”
“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”
“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”
“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.
“What are you doing? I was kidding!”
“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”
Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”
“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”
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“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.
“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.
“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.
“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”
You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.
“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”
He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”
You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”
“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.
“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.
“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”
You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.
“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.
Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.
“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”
“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”
“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”
“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.
He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”
You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.
“So, anybody in mind?”
You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.
“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”
“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.
Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.
“Not yet.”
“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.
You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”
Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.
Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.
“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.
“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”
You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”
“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.
“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.
Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”
You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.
“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”
“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.
Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.
“Are you close, brat?”
You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.
“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.
“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.
“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.
“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again. 
“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”
“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”
“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.  
“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.  
“It’s not smart of you.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”
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It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.
A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.
But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.
“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.
“I’m not.”
You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”
“Why do you care so much about what I study?”
“So I know how to beat you?”
“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.
“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”
He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”
“We are not studying together.”
“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”
You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”
“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.
“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.
“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.
“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”
“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”
“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.
“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.
“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”
“Being better than you is the prize.”
Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.
“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”
You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”
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“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.
“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.
“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.
“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”
“Shut up, it’s not.”
“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.  
You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”
“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”
“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”
“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.  
“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”
Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”
“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.
“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”
And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.
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Haechan hates you.
If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.
He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.
He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.
You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.
Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.
“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.
“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.
“Did you mistake our notes?”
“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.
“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head. 
“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”
“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”
“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”
“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”
“Yeah, just not every…thing…”
Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”
“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.  
“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”
“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”
Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”
“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.  
“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”
“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.  
“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.  
“With what notes?”
“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”
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When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.
“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.
“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”
“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.
“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.  
“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.  
“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”
“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”
You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”
“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.
“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.
“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”
You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”
“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”
“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.  
He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”
“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”
“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”
“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.
“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”
You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”
“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”
“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.
Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”
“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.
“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”
“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.  
Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”
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You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.
When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.
Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.
“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.
“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”
“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.  
You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.
“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.
You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”
“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”
“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.  
“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”
You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”
He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”
“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.
“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”
You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.
“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.
“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”
“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”
“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.
“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”
“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”
He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”
“I just replied.”
“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”
“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.
“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.  
“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”
“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”
“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.
“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”
You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”
“It’s a deal.”
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The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.
You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.
“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.
“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.
“Not now.”
“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.  
You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.
“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil. 
“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.  
“Elaborate and change my mind.”
“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.
“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.
“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.
You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.
“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.
“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.
“You didn’t write anything down.”
Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”
“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”
“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”
“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”
“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”
“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.
“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.
“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”
He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”
“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.
“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”
“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”
“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”
You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”
He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.
“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”
“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”
“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.
“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”
You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.
“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.  
“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”
“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”
“No, you can’t come in,” you say.
“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”
“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”
“Is it really that small?”
“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”
“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”
“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”
Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”
“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.
“But you love it.”
“No.”
“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”
“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.
“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.  
“And I’ll be at the library!”
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You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.
From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.
“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.
“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.
“Want to go out with me?”
“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.
“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”
You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”
“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”
“Where would you even take me?”
Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”
When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.
You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.
When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.
“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”
“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”
Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”
“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”
“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”
“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”
“You have a car?”
“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.  
You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”
“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.
Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”
“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.
“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.  
You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.
“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.
“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.  
“Wanted to take the metro?”
You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”
“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”
You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”
“You have a car?”
“No, I have a driving playlist.”
“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”
“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.
Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”
“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’
“Oh God,” he whispers.
“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.
“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”
You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.
“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.  
“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.
You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”
“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”
“Once,” you reply immediately.
“Twice, with the kiss…”
“You did that to shut me up.”
“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”
You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.
“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”
“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”
“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”
“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”
He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”
“And attracted to honey.”
“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”
“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”
You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”
“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”
“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”
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The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.
“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.
“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”
“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”
“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”
“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.  
“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”
“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”
You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”
“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”
“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”
Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”
“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.
“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.
You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.
“But it was still better than this, I guess?”
You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”
He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”
You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”
His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”
“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”
Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”
“I have some notes to edit and —”
“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”
You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”
It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.
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“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.
“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.
“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.
“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.
“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”
“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture. 
Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.
“Haechan, what are y—”
“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”
You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.
“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”
“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”
“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.
He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”
Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”
“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.
You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.
“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.
“Yeah?”
“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”
He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”
“What if they lock us inside?”
“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”
You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.
“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”
“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.
“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.
You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”
His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”
“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”
“Yeah, until you forget everything.”
You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.
“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”
You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.
“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.
Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”
You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.
His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”
You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.
“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”
“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.
“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”
“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.
“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.
“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”
You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”
“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”
You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.
He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”  
“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”
“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.
“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”
“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”
Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.
“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”
“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.
His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”
“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.
“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.
You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”
“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”
You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.
“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”
“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.
“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”
“Stop mocking me!”
“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”
You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.
“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.
“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.
He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.
When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.
“Eager, honey?”
“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.
“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.
You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.
One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.
Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.
“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.
You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.
“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”
“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.
“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”
You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.
“Yeah? And who’s that?”
“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.
“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”
You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.
“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”
“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.
Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”
“You’re not the professor so…”
“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”
You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”
Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.
“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”
You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.
Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”
“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”
When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.
“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”
You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.
“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”
“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.  
“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”
“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”
Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”
You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.
“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”
“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.
“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”
You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.
“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.  
“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”
Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.
“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”
“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.   
“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”
You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.
“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”
“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.   
Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”
“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.
“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.
“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”
“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face.  And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.
“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”
You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.
You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.
“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.
“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.
“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.
“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.
“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”
You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.
“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”
You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”
Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”
“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.
“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”
You chuckle, deciding to believe him.
“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.
“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”
He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”
“They locked us in!”
He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”
“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.
“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”
“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”
“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.
“No,” you say resolutely.  
“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.
“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.
Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.
And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.
When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.
You can’t believe you followed him blindly.
Your hands are still intertwined.
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With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.
There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.
Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.
Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.
He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.
You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.
But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.
“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.
“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”
“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.
What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.
“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.
“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.
You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”
“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.
“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.
“Are you hinting at something?”
“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”
“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”
“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”
“Do you?” He winks.
“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.
“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”
“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.
He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.
But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.
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“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.
“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”
You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.
“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”
Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.
“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.
“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”
“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.
“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”
“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”
“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.
He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.
You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.
His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.
“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”
“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.
Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.
“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.
I played with your heart.
And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.
“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”
“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.
“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.
“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”
“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”
He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”
You roll your eyes. “Really?”
“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”
“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”
“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.
“That’s a crazy choice.”
“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.
“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.
One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.  
“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.
“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.
Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”
You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”
“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”
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“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.
“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.  
“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”
“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.
“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”
Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.
“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”
Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”
You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”
“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”
You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”
He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.
“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”
He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.
You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.
You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.
“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”
You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.
You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.
The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.
“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”
You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”
“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”
“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.
“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.
“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.
“Yeah but —”
“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”
“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.
Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.
And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.
Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.
“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.
The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.
“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”
You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.
Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”
Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.
He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”
Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.
“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.
“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.
It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.
“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.
“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.
When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”
You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.
“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”
When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.
“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”
You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.
You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.
“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”
You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.
There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.
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“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”
You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”
Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.
“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.  
You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.
“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.
“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”
You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”
You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”
“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.
“Yeah, just coffee.”
He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”
“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.
A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”
“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.
Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”
“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.
“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”
“Who’s fucking?”
“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.
“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.
“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.
“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.
Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”
“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.
“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”
“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.
“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.  
“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.
“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”
“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”
“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.
You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”
When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.
“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.
“What?”
“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”
He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”
You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.
“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.
“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”
“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”
“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”
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you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)
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general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo
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@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,
@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,
@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,
@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun @shxnz
@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained
@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno
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© neowinestaindress ; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. 
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870 notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 1 year
Text
window pains | jason todd
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Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.
A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.
If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡
the divider
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"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"
"You know who you're talking to, right?"
"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."
It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 
You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 
That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 
Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 
But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 
Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 
"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"
"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"
You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 
"How'd they get you?" you ask. 
It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.
You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?
The last one, you always know the answer to. 
"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 
He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 
Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 
"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 
"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"
"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."
That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 
You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 
"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."
"You can put them on yourself." 
His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 
Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 
"Can I crash here?" 
"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.
You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 
"What're you doing?" you ask. 
"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."
"I didn't say that, I said—"
"I can read between the lines." 
"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 
"What situation?"
You turn your head. "Nothing."
Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 
"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."
"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."
"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."
Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"
You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."
"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."
"Lie the fuck down, Todd."
His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."
Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 
Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 
Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 
"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 
"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."
He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 
"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 
You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 
"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 
He squints. "It's August."
"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 
"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 
You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 
"You're tired of me," he says. 
Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  
"You are."
"I'm not tired of you, Jay."
You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 
You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 
You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.
You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 
"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 
"I'd be tired of me." 
"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"
Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  
"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."
"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 
He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 
"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 
"I don't need 'em."
"You do. You need another on your forehead."
"It'll heal fine without it."
Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 
"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."
He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."
"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 
Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."
"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."
He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 
"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."
Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 
"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."
His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.
You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.
His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 
"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 
You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 
"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 
4K notes · View notes
sugarnspice630 · 6 months
Text
Movie Night - Yunho x Reader
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“If you can’t stay awake, I’ll give you a reason to stay awake.”
•pairing: softdom!yunho x fem!reader
•word count: 1.9k
•tags: mdni, golden retriever Yunho turns soft dom, vertically challenged reader, reader has never seen the Spider-Man movies, Yunho is a MASSIVE ass guy, teasing, butt foundling, reader falls asleep, somnophilia if you squint, cockwarming, ...did I miss anything? probably
Summary: Having a movie date night with Yunho, but you find yourself falling asleep, so Yunho does the only thing he can think of to keep you awake
A/N: Inspired by my Thighs, Tits, or Ass man Ateez edition post! Sorry to anyone who has seen the Spider-Man movies (I have not). Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆───
It was movie date night with Yunho! You were so excited to have the whole evening with just the two of you. Your objective was to watch the entire Spider-Man movie series, cause you had never seen them before and he was dying to share them with you. Were superhero movies your favorite thing in the world? No, but you agreed to watch them because Yunho loves them. You could never turn down any request he had, especially when he gave you those soft eyes. It makes your heart melt every time.
Yunho was busy preparing the living room for the movie night while you took it upon yourself to make the popcorn. A huge bowl of it to make it through all the movies. You had to stand on your tippy toes to put the first bag into the microwave. Balancing yourself against the counter and stretching your calves and arms as far as they would go to get the bag in. You heard a soft chuckle from behind and felt Yunho’s body pushing against you. You tilted your head back and looked up at him, and he looked down at you. He closed the door to the microwave and pushed the buttons for you, with a smile on his face the whole time.
“Figured you needed some help.”
“I could have managed!” He softly chuckles at your retaliation.
"Right, right, sorry.” He gently rubbed up and down your sides with his frame still pushed against you. Resting his head on top of yours and staying close to you for a few minutes. He gently kissed the top of your head before tracing his hands down to your butt. Gently squeezing both cheeks and massaging. You felt your face get warm.
“Yuyu!” You drew out his name in a playful manner.
“Sorry baby! I just couldn’t help it.” It also didn’t help that you were wearing pajama shorts that just covered your cheeks, and the fabric was a little thin. You could feel him from behind you, but it wasn't hard. The timer for the popcorn bag went off, and Yunho took one hand off your butt and opened the door for you. He grabbed the bag and set it on the counter in front of you.
“Thank you~!” He softly patted your head and gave you a smile before making his way back to the living room to wait for you. You took the bag, carefully opening it to not burn yourself, and poured it into a big bowl for you two to share, taking out all of the kernels that did not get popped. You carried the bowl into the living room and smiled when you saw Yunho sitting there, all sprawled out on the couch, looking comfortable. Setting the bowl down on the table in a spot that would be easy for both of you to reach. The atmosphere was perfect to watch movies together at home. The lights were dimmed, but not enough to affect navigating your way around the furniture. The room temperature was perfect—warm enough that you would not need a blanket while also allowing the extra warmth from cuddling up together. 
You walked around the table to sit down on the couch next to Yunho. In the meantime, he propped his feet up on the table at an angle to allow you to curl in underneath his arms. Before you could sit down, he gave you this cocky smirk and used his toes to kick the remote off the table, landing behind you. You placed your hands on your hips and scoffed playfully.
“Really?”
“My foot slipped.” He said nonchalantly, still keeping that smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes and smirked back at him. Turning around, you bent over at the waist to pick up the remote. While bent over, you could just feel Yunho’s eyes drilling into you. You took your time picking up the remote, just to tease him even further. As you came back up, you turned around quickly, hoping to catch Yunho lacking, but he was staring straight ahead. He must have directed his gaze away just before you turned around.
“I know you were staring.”
“Perhaps I was, perhaps I wasn’t. You’ll never know~.” Still staring straight ahead. You lightly slapped his shoulder before sitting down next to him and getting comfortable. He extended his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close. You handed the remote to him and let him pick the first movie you were going to watch. 
“This is important, so you have to pay attention.” He said enthusiastically, excited to share his interests. The golden retriever energy was strong at this moment. You swore that if he had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy right now.
“Hard to do that when you’re here too.” He just smiled at your sly comment, and you nuzzled up against him.
The movie started to play, and you watched intently. Your eyes were trying to follow everything that was happening on screen, which proved to be difficult at times because there was so much happening, but you managed. Yunho would occasionally speak up during a quiet part to tell you something really awesome was coming up. About halfway through the movie, you noticed your eyes were getting heavy, so you tried to blink away the tiredness, but it just kept coming back to haunt you. You wanted to stay awake and watch the movies with Yunho. You tapped Yunho on the leg two times to indicate you were going to change positions. You opted for laying your head in his lap and laying sideways, still facing the TV. He softly placed his hand on your side and gently rubbed. More minutes of the movie go by, and you are still fighting tiredness. You find your eyes closing, only to immediately open them back up wide to focus back on the movie. You have missed most of the last quarter of the movie by now, considering how many times your eyes have opened and closed. Yunho noticed this, and one time when you didn’t open your eyes right away, he slightly flicked your side.
“Ya, pay attention Y/N. You keep falling asleep.”
“I know Yunho; I’m sorry. It is interesting; I just can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Well here, sit up and come over here.” Yunho shifts in his spot a little and invites you to sit up in his lap. You picked yourself up and moved to sit on his lap, still facing the TV. He placed his hands back at your side to support you sitting on him. You looked back and looked at Yunho’s face. He was smirking at you softly and rubbing your sides while he looked at you. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, and you turned your attention back to the movie. You then felt Yunho lean a bit closer to you and felt his breath near your ear.
“If you can’t stay awake, I’ll give you a reason to stay awake.” His tone was low, and it made your face heat up a little. You continued to stay focused on the movie, and soon after, the credits began to roll. Just because this movie was over did not mean you were done; no, you had all the other movies in the series to get through. He picked up the remote and started the next movie in the series. 
Tiredness began to take over you again, but you swore to stay awake for Yunho. Hiding your subtle yawns and slow blinks the best you could. Eventually, you find your head bobbing to the side and your eyes closing. This time, you did not wake up as quickly as before. Yunho took notice of your sleeping figure and decided to do something about it. He took one hand and shifted his hips to pull his sweatpants and underwear down. Then, he grabbed your face harshly, which caused you to jolt awake. He turned his hand to turn your face toward him. You stared at him with a shocked expression.
“I told you if you couldn’t stay awake, I’d give you a reason to stay awake. Take your shorts and underwear off.” He sounded annoyed, so you didn’t want to piss him off any further. You obeyed him and lifted yourself up by your knees, slid off your shorts and underwear, with his help, of course, then sat back down on his lap. To your surprise, you felt his bare skin touching yours. You felt something slightly poking your behind as well.
“Lift your hips back up baby.” He whispered to you, and you lifted your hips slightly, removing his hand from your face to help you out. Yunho took that opportunity to guide his semi-hard dick to your entrance. “Alright, sit back down slowly.” Yunho placed his hands back on your side as you slowly sat yourself back on his lap. You whimpered softly as his thick dick stretched out your opening. You softly bit your lip and felt Yunho push your hips down to put all your weight on him. “You’re going to pay attention now, yes?” You nodded your head softly, your brain becoming clouded by how big Yunho is inside you.
You were having a slightly hard time focusing on the movie, but for a different reason. It was not because you were tired; it was because you could feel your boyfriend’s cock inside you getting harder, and he would twitch every so often. Your heart rate was so harsh and heavy that you could feel it in your pussy. You were almost certain Yunho could feel it too, because he would grunt or groan with pleasure every time you felt it. Yunho wiggled in his seat a little, but really to try to push himself further inside you. You softly moaned, and you felt one of Yunho’s hands leave your side and come up to cover your mouth. He leaned closer to your body, which only pushed his cock into you in a different direction, causing you to moan again and flutter your eyes.
“No talking during the movie love~.” You felt his warm breath near your ear. “You need to focus~.”
“I-I can’t-.” You tried to say it quietly, but Yunho’s hand over your mouth muffled your words.
“What? Couldn’t hear you baby. Could you say that again?” He moved his hand off your mouth a little to allow you to speak.
“I can’t-!” Before you could finish your sentence, Yunho rammed his hips up into you, causing your words to get cut off and you to let out a loud moan. He leaned his body back up against your back and whispered in your ear again.
“I’m giving you one more chance to stay quiet before I completely ruin you; do you understand?” Nodding your head quickly and breathing heavily, you directed your attention back to the movie once again, but Yunho was too far in his head now. He knew you didn’t really care for the movie and just wanted to sit on his dick for the rest of the night, so he lazily rolled his hips up and down to push himself around. Smirking to himself as he could hear just the faintest of whimpers coming from you as you stayed focused on the screen. You could not grasp onto anything that was happening, but to trick Yunho into thinking you were watching, you stayed facing forward and fixed your eyes on the screen. 
This was going to be a long night.
Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @yeosangsbbg @10nantscompanion @v-lvs-yungi @dawn-iscozy @certifiedmoa @tinyqaa @sleepyw1tch @pancake-freckle @mysteriousrainsworld @xuchiya
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miabebe · 22 days
Text
Accidentally Kidnapping A Mafia Boss (Yoon Jeonghan)
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Reverse Trope Series Installment 2
Pairing - Yoon Jeonghan x afab!reader
Word Count - 70K 29K (please congratulate me, cutting down was the hardest thing I've ever done)
Genre - Strangers to something more I guess? Minimal crack (I had to choose between humour and sexual tension - it was painful, like choosing a favourite child), angst (just a small splash) and smut (loads of it, warnings under the cut)
Warnings - mentions of kidnapping and mafia, one scene where hands are thrown (But just to be clear, this is not like your usual mafia fics - it’s not dark or violent), mention of dub-con in OC's past
A/n -Those who are up to date with the teasers can jump directly for day 1 I guess! Anyways, this fic should have been a whole ass series, it was such a task finishing it in under 30K phew. I hope you enjoy this roller coaster - your comments, reblogs and tags are all very very appreciated! I shall put out an announcement when the next Reverse Trope installment is coming - for now, its time for Camp Seventeen!
Smut warnings - there's a bunch of call girls, masturbation-almost?, voyeurism, multiple smut scenes (3 or 4 idk), exhibitionism (nobody saw them though), fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid like them), multiple orgasms, oral (male receiving), okay I hope we're done
"You're being a real pain in my ass right now."  "I don't see how it’s an issue since that’s not much of an ass."  Seokmin glared at Seungkwan. "Just because some stupid college club awarded you a silly superlative-" "-best bakery in town is not a ‘silly’ superlative-" "-like once-" "-twice. In a row-"  "-doesn't mean-"  "-absolutely does-"  "Will you two shut up?" You hissed under your breath looking around. "Are you trying to get us all caught?"  Seungkwan clicked his tongue annoyed. "You're acting like we're in the middle of a crime."  Your eyes flickered from Seokmin to Seungkwan before landing on the third guy in between them, the one who was unconscious and being held up with his arms thrown over the shoulders of his friends.  "Last I checked, kidnapping is a crime." You pointed out. Seokmin rolled his eyes. "Prank-ing your friend isn't." "That is if Soonyoung decides he wants to save your sorry ass." "Again, not much of an ass-"  "I swear to god Kwan-"  Groaning you covered your ears to shut out all the bickering.  That night when drunk Soonyoung had pushed your buttons, consequently leading to the events of tonight, you did not think it would be this hard. 
The plan was simple - on Mondays, Soonyoung was in charge of closing the BBQ shop where all 3 of your closest friends worked. His routine was fairly straightforward - first he clears and cleans all the tables, then he closes the kitchen, then changes out of his uniform and finally wraps it up by locking the main door.  That's where you would get him, right as he closed the doors. You were to take him by surprise from the back, cover his face with a black cloth bag, bring him to your apartment and tie him up leaving him immobile, blinded and helpless.  One might wonder why such cruelty when you called him a friend but you would argue that Soonyoung deserved it. After all, last night he hadn't stopped mentioning how boring you were and how your life was so uninteresting and how you didn't have a single exciting adventure while he had a shit ton of them. Well, today you were about to give yourself, and him, a story to tell.
Now things did go according to plan, for the most part. Seokmin and Seungkwan were first reluctant to be a part of this madness but that was until you brought up the prospect of Soonyoung being scared enough to hopefully piss in his pants. Intrigued by the idea, they joined and all three of you waited in the bushes, watching your friend's silhouette moving around the shop, putting things away, cleaning up. Just as he reappeared after changing, hurriedly trying to leave the shop, the three of you got to action, approaching him silently from the back, swiftly holding him by the hands and putting the bag over his face.  What you didn't take into account in this plan was just how much resistance Soonyoung would show, God knows why you didn't consider his adrenaline driven reaction, but man did he put up a fight. It was only natural you retaliate and so instinctively, you landed a smack on his head with the torch in your hand knocking him out, making him buckle into the pavement as the two other boys caught him, looking at you bewildered. That was perhaps just the beginning of your problems because now you had to very un-suspiciously drag a very unconscious man to your apartment in the dead of the night. It would have helped if this neighbourhood was even a little sketchy but being a quiet, painfully uneventful suburb meant even the smallest of things was seen with high scrutiny.  So far, the three of you had somehow managed to make it from the restaurant to your building undetected but it was getting from the first floor to your house that was the real task since the building's resident old woman decided she wanted to feed the stray cats at 2 am. 
"How much longer are we gonna have to do this?" Seungkwan groaned. "He's surprisingly not that heavy but my arm is starting to sleep." "Yeah, this joke isn't as funny anymore-"  "Will you two just keep quiet?" You turned to them annoyed. "She'll be gone in a few minutes and then we can move. Didn't you two say you wanted Soonyoung to shut up for a few days?”  Seokmin mumbled a yes under his breath while Seungkwan nodded hesitating. Hoping for some silence after this, you turned to watch the old woman stroking the cat softly as it slowly nibbled its food. Although your patience was really being tested, something told you if you didn't go through this plan, in another 40 years, you'd be exactly like that old lady - lonely, boring and feeding stray cats. Terrified by that thought, you held it together even though it took a whole 15 minutes for the scene to clear. As the three, no four of you, proceeded towards your apartment, the stray cat watched, licking its paw. 
Seungkwan and Seokmin groaned in relief as they half threw Soonyoung onto the chair you pulled to the middle, rubbing their aching shoulders. Scouring the drawers, you pulled out a rope with a soft “aha” making them turn towards your unnaturally happy self. Soonyoung stirred in his chair. “You're a little too excited about this-”  “Shhh!” You covered Seokmin's mouth with your hand, whispering. “If you talk, he'll know it's us, then it's not scary anymore.” “Frankly, I think the kidnapping and knocking him out cold must have been scary enough already.” “Not enough” You glared as Soonyoung let out a soft groan, letting you know he was coming around. “Quick, take out your phone and open one of those AI apps. We'll type what we want to say and use the bot voice - that way he'll have no idea.”  All three of you huddled, glancing at the phone as Seungkwan typed something quickly, pressing play to let the low toned automated voice echo through the room.  “I cannot wait to see Soonyoung shit his pants.” Seokmin giggled as your lips curled into a pleased smile. Oh, he was surely going to shit his pants.  “And why would I do that?” Soonyoung's voice sounded confused. “Because we-”  Seokmin looked up, freezing mid-sentence, noticing the voice did not come from the person before him.  All three of you exchanged looks realising the same before slowly turning around. Soonyoung  was standing at the entrance like he just walked in, looking bewildered.  Before any of you could process the situation, he pointed over your shoulders, frowning.
“And who's that?”
Oh. 
“And why is he wearing my clothes?” 
Oh no.
You turned back to see the man in question, slowly pull the black bag from over his head, shaking his golden tresses away from his face. Oh lord was he gorgeous.  As he blinked his eyes open, wondering where the hell he was, you were busy running your eyes all over his pretty features and suddenly, in that short span of 20 seconds, you had memorised where every single mole on his face was.  Seokmin and Seungkwan meanwhile, held your arms on either side half hiding behind you which was stupid considering you were the biggest coward in the room.  But somehow, as the man before you looked at all of you with narrowed, accusing eyes and tried to stand up, you swung your arm and smacked him right on the head with the torch again. All three boys gawked at you as the man fell back into the chair again, head rolling to the side, unconscious.  “What the hell mate-” “I'm sorry I panicked!” “Will someone tell me what's happening? Why is he wearing my clothes-” “Shut up Soonyoung.” Seungkwan turned to you looking terrified. “Do you have any idea what you've done?”  “Hey, this can't be just on me, we all thought it was Soonyoung-”  “Me???”  “-how is this only my fault-”  “Because!” Seungkwan raised his voice pointing a shaking finger. “The man you just knocked out again, that's…that's….” “That's…” Seokmin's eyes widened in realisation. “That's the city’s most infamous mafia boss, Yoon Jeonghan.” 
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“They aren't picking up.” You sighed, pacing around the room. “Why aren't they picking up??” 
All three boys who were perched on the breakfast bar shrugged, continuing to munch on their chocolate bars.
“Y’all are awfully calm considering the mess we’ve landed in.” 
“The mess you landed us in.” Soonyoung, who had been filled about the situation, pointed out, licking his fingers. “If you hadn’t tried to pull that terrible prank on me-” 
“Okay Kwon, I don’t need this right now.” You rolled your eyes and Soonyoung made a mocking face before returning to his snack. Sighing, you dialed the number again, hoping for a response at least this time. 
“Voicemail. Again!” You squeezed your phone, nearly throwing it across the room, half screaming in frustration. The boys hissed, signaling you to shut up as you bit your tongue and turned towards the elephant in the room. 
Well, not a literal elephant, he was barely one sixteenth its size, the figurative elephant, Yoon Jeonghan. 
He still sat, unconscious and beautiful as ever, only his hands were now tied behind the chair, securing him in place. Seokmin insisted it was necessary considering this would be his second time attempting to try and escape. When you had expressed your confusion, Seungkwan pulled out his phone, flipped through his gallery and showed you a picture he had clicked in the city a few days ago - a poster with Jeonghan’s face on it, a text on the bottom. 
Dangerous criminal Yoon Jeonghan escaped from prison on the 15th of August. Please be cautious and if seen, call the number below. A reward of 20,000 dollars is offered for any incriminating information. 
The moment all of you finished reading, it was like a switch flipped. 
Soonyoung immediately secured Jeonghan's hands, Seokmin darkened the room, turning off all the lights and Seungkwan shut all the curtains, shoving his phone into your hands. You though, just stood frozen, watching all of them getting to work, unable to comprehend the situation. It was only when Seungkwan shook you physically telling you to call that number that you finally came to your senses, quickly dialing it. 
Since then, it had been over an hour and you had called almost 48 times unsuccessfully, much to your frustration but not so much to the boys. They simply continued to raid your snack drawer, chattering away in hushed whispers. You on the other hand wanted to pull your hair out. 
“Why do you look so distressed hon?” Soonyoung looked at you, worried.
“Why?” You raised your eyebrows. “Why?? Can you not see why? Do you not understand how risky it is keeping him here-” You shot the unconscious man a glance, whispering. “What if he wakes up?” 
“Then you knock him out again.” Seungkwan chuckled. “This is not a joke you guys.” You tried to be heard above all the reenacting and laughing. “I get that the 20k offer looks enticing but should we take a risk this big-” 
“You think this is about the money?” Seokmin looked at you almost offended. “He’s a criminal Y/n, handing him over to the cops is doing what’s right! That’s our duty as responsible citizens-” 
“Well this can’t be the only way to go about it? I’m sure there are other ways-” 
“Like what?” Seungkwan frowned curiously. 
“I don’t know.” You bit your lower lip, turning to Jeonghan, hands shaking nervously. “We could go out there and find a cop-” 
“When was the last time you even saw a cop in this vicinity?” Soonyoung raised an amused eyebrow.
“Fine, then we’ll take him to the nearest police station?” 
“That’s almost twenty five miles from here.” Soonyoung pointed out. “What if on the way he becomes un-unconscious-” 
“Conscious.” 
“-then wouldn’t we be in more danger?” 
Sighing, you buried your face in your hands, shaking your head. “Oh god, how did we get ourselves stuck in a situation this terrible-.” 
“Oh come on, it's not so bad.” Seungkwan clicked his tongue. “It's not like we're committing a crime, in fact we are doing the complete opposite of it, you should be proud of us.” 
“I prefer my sanity over pride please, thank you.” 
Soonyoung clapped his hand. “So let's get you your vanity back-”  
“Sanity.” 
“-the more we try to call that number, the sooner we manage to contact the cops and before you know it, he'll be gone and all of this will be over.”
Sighing, you handed the phone to him, gesturing that he try now, sick of hearing the voicemail message over and over again. No sooner after he reached for it, a loud ringtone began echoing in the room making all of you jump cause a. it was really loud and b. it was not coming from this phone…..
All four of you exchanged looks turning to the source of the sound - the pocket on the inside of Jeonghan’s jacket. 
Noticing how Jeonghan was starting to slightly stir, Seungkwan quickly moved closer to him, pulling out his phone, fingers moving swiftly to mute. As it continued to vibrate in his hand, the rest of you gathered around, looking at the screen over his shoulder - Assistant 1, annoying, do not pick up. But before any of you had to make the executive decision whether or not to lift the phone, thank god for the timing, the call ended, allowing you all to take a sigh of relief. 
Trying to catch your breath again, just as you almost moved back to your original position, it rang again, somehow even more loudly this time and like an idiot in his hurry, Seungkwan accidentally lifted the call, making you gasp and almost scream. 
“No, don’t-” 
“Boss.” Though it was barely audible, he sounded exasperated. “Please tell me you’re not with a girl.” 
As Seungkwan put the call on speaker, the boys looked at you, signaling you to talk. Looking lost, you stuttered. “I uh…yes, he’s with me.” 
“Of course he is.” His voice boomed in the room. “I need to talk to him.” 
You hesitated, looking at Jeonghan still sitting slumped. “I’m afraid he can’t come to the phone right now.” 
“And why not?” 
“Cause he’s tied up?” You shook your head fast, when your friends looked at you wide eyed - now was not the time for truths??? “I mean he’s tied up with some work-” 
“Oh please, there’s no need to cover up.” The man sounded amused. “I always had a feeling that this was one of his kinks.” 
You looked at the screen mortified. Did he just say kinks? “I’m sorry what???” 
“No, I’m sorry you’re stuck with that sadist of a man. If you’re free after you’re done with him, I assure you, I could show you a much better time.” 
Gasping inaudibly, you felt the heat in your cheeks rising. “I’m not a…. no, god no. He’s tied up as in, unconscious and tied up. Kidnapped, unconscious and tied up.” 
The boys’ jaws dropped in disbelief. What the hell were you blabbering? 
“Did you just say you kidnapped him?” 
Hands shivering you tried to shove the phone into someone else's hands, only for all of them to quite literally run away. 
“Woman, I’m asking you something. Did you just say you kidnapped Jeonghan? The Yoon Jeonghan?” He paused, as you moved, standing in front of the man in question, watching him carefully. “Do you even know who he is?” 
“I….yes.” You sighed, sweat rolling down your forehead. “Yes I know who he is and look, it's a long story that I can’t explain right now and I’m sorry you had to find out this way but I’m calling the cops and handing him over tonight.”
“You called me to tell me that you were handing him to the cops?” 
“Actually you called-”  
“And for what? That measly twenty k?” He scoffed. “I know what you’re doing here - I’ll give you thirty in exchange for him.” 
And suddenly, all the boys were around the phone. 
“No thank you.” You shook your head. “This isn’t about the money, it’s about doing the right thing and that is to hand him over-” 
“Wow you’re really playing that card?” He sighed. “Fine, I’ll give you fifty.” 
At this point, Seungkwan lunged for his phone, narrowly missing it as you swiftly moved your hand away, surprised. 
“Seventy five?” 
Seokmin tried to reach for it too, but you were too quick for him too, moving away, looking at them incredulously. What the hell were they doing now? 
“Final offer, a hundred thousand or I have other ways-” 
“Done.” Soonyoung, the nimblest of them all, quickly grabbed the phone from your hands talking into it. “Hundred thousand and he’s yours.” 
“Kwon-” 
Seokmin covered your mouth, holding you back. “We want it in cash.” 
“That might be an issue-” The man on the phone let out a tired breath. “-things are tight now, cash will be hard.” 
“It’s cash or he goes to the cops.” Seokmin continued, still holding you back with his strong arms, rendering your struggles pointless.
The line went quiet on the other side. The boys look at each other, worried. 
“Fine.” He finally agreed as they sighed in relief. “But I’ll need about ten days to arrange for it.” 
“We are in no hurry.” Seungkwan added. “Whenever you send the cash, we’ll send him.” 
“And till then?” 
“Till then, he’ll be here, with us.” Soonyoung confirmed, earning a protest from you that drowned out. 
“I hope you remember that the cops are actively looking for him-” 
“We do. Which is why you need to make sure the money reaches us by the tenth day.” Seungkwan pointed out. “Otherwise you know where he’s going.” 
“No don’t….” The man sighed. “There’s no need to make such hasty decisions, you’ll get your money.” 
“Good, keep in touch on this number and let us know when you have the cash ready and….that's all, okay bye.” 
Seungkwan spoke quickly before he cut the call and all the boys looked at each other amazed. When Seokmin finally released you, he shrieked as you landed a few harmless punches on him, hard and fast.
“Are you insane???” You looked around. “Are all of you insane?” 
“Hon,” Soonyoung held you by the shoulders, shaking them. “It’s a hundred thousand dollars-” 
“I thought it was not about the money.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you wanted to be a responsible citizen-” 
“Oh please it’s always about the money.” Seokmin walked over and fell back onto the couch. “A hundred thousand dollars, wow, I’ve never even heard of so much money in my life.”
“Can’t believe I’m going to be a millionaire.” Soonyoung joined him on, earning an eye roll from you. 
“How exactly?” You crossed your arms. “It’s twenty five thousand dollars a person.” 
“So you are agreeing to be a part of it!” Seungkwan clapped happily, ignoring your words of protest. “We’re all going to be so rich.” 
“Twenty five thousand dollars isn’t exactly a fortune-” 
“It might not be for you, but not all of us have dropped out of college and are running our own freelance business from the comfort of our grandmother’s apartment.” Seokmin pointed out. “We could really use the money.” 
“That’s fair but-” 
“No ‘buts’ now.” Seungkwan raised his hand to stop you. “Come on Y/n, do this for us? All we ask is for ten days. Don’t you remember when you moved to this locality, we were the only ones there for you? For 2 whole years we’ve been with you through thick and thin-” 
Thud.
Seungkwan stuttered to a stop, turning around at the sound. The rest of you shifted around too to see what happened, heartbeat rapidly rising when you realized that Jeonghan was stirring awake..... and more importantly, the knot that “believe me I'm an expert” Soonyoung had tied around his hands had come undone, the rope falling to the floor. 
Wincing, Jeonghan opened his eyes slowly as all of you froze, watching the infamous mafia boss raise his head, blinking in the darkness. 
You panicked, noticing that your one and only weapon here, your trusty torchlight, was far from you, right by his foot. Wondering if it was dark enough, considering the room was only lit by the soft and minimal glow of the streetlights pouring in, you slowly inched towards Jeonghan who still seemed like he hadn't fully come around. Just as you reached him, bending to pick up the torch, Seungkwan, who was inching back to press himself against the wall and somehow blend into it, pressed against the switches, the lights instantly turning on, illuminating the whole room. 
Jeonghan slowly looked up, eyes meeting yours, lips parting softly. 
You opened your mouth to scream or say something, you can’t remember what exactly, instead resorting to just staring at the way his hair beautifully framed his face, long eyelashes touching the curve of his cheeks as he blinked. As you continued to remain frozen, his eyes ran over the features of your face, before his lips curled into a small smile.
“I love you.” 
You snapped out of your trance in a second, jaw dropping. 
“God I really love you.” He repeated, as you quickly grabbed the torch and moved back hurriedly and Seokmin, clearly your most sensible friend, quickly got up, putting himself between you and Jeonghan.
“What did he say?” Seokmin looked at you over his shoulder, mumbling. 
“You’re….” Seungkwan took a small, careful step. “You’re not mad?” 
“My head does hurt like a bitch.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you who was half hiding behind your biggest friend. “But I would have been more mad if I was in jail compared to waking up in….” He looked around again. “.....whatever this is.” 
“My house.” You muttered, gripping the torch as Soonyoung slowly and silently walked around, kicking the rope under the sofa, before he joined you, looking casual as ever.
“Yes, jail would be bad.” He agreed. “But here, you’re totally safe, no stress at all.” 
“And why exactly?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes flickering over all of you. “Obviously you know who I am. Why aren’t you handing me to the cops?” 
“That's um…because….” Seungkwan mumbled, putting his arm around your shoulder, with a firm nod. “Because of her uncle.” 
You blinked at him. 
You had no uncle. 
“M-mine?” 
“Yes, her uncle was….unfairly arrested by the cops last year, they sort of put him away for good so uh….helping you is, in a way, our revenge against this foul legal system.” 
Jeonghan didn’t look even a little convinced. Maybe just a little when he looked at you with an eyebrow raised in question and you hesitatingly nodded. 
“Okay, y’all are clearly a weird bunch but I'm not going to question it since whatever this is, it's helping me out.” He got up, wincing as he held his head. “and now I'll get going-” 
“No!” All three boys screamed, taking both Jeonghan and you aback, ears almost ringing. 
“We mean…” Seungkwan started at a much softer tone. “You can’t go out right now, it’s not safe for you.” 
“I am aware,” Jeonghan patted his pockets as though he was searching for something. “I need to call my people and find them in the city again. Once they arrange a way for me to permanently leave the country, I'll be safe, finally-” 
“You are safe here too.” Soonyoung quipped. “There’s no place better than this neighbourhood - it’s quiet, almost thirty miles from the city, filled with senior citizens who are absolutely cut off from the world - they probably don’t even know who you are.” 
“Most importantly,” Seokmin added. “Because this place is so dull, cops don’t even come here, hell the closest police station is over twenty five miles away.” 
“Huh” Jeonghan looked thoughtful, continuing to slide his hands into all his pockets one by one, mumbling. “I can't find my phone-” 
“It probably fell when you were running around-.” Seungkwan gripped the bulge in his back pocket where Jeonghan’s phone was tucked away. “-now that you can't contact your…gang? it'll be dangerous for you to go unguided.”
“Exactly.” Soonyoung stepped up. “Say you give it some time, maybe 10 ten days or so for things in the city to cool off a little and then you can go, find your people and leave the country?” 
Jeonghan started at the floor as though he was mulling over it, each passing second feeling like almost an hour.
Finally he looked up, slowly nodding, much to everyone's relief. “I guess I could?” He held the bump on his head again, wincing in pain. “First I'm gonna need a shower and a meal.” He looked at you, lips curling into a small smile. “Is knocking people out your only talent or can you whip up a ramyeon too?”
Tearing your eyes away from his intense gaze you mumbled that you could, earning a two finger salute from him before he disappeared behind the door of the bathroom. 
As all of four of you collectively let out a sigh of relief, Seungkwan shoved Jeonghan’s phone into your hands. 
“Keep this safe and keep him safe.” He looked around at everyone. “We need to continue making him feel as though living here for 10 days is good for him, not us.”
“Agreed.” Seokmin hummed. “He cannot, at any cost, know he’s being held for ransom. God knows what he might do then.” 
“I still can’t believe it though.” Soonyoung let out a low whistle, looking around almost proud. “I can’t believe we accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss.”
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“Smells fucking good.” 
You bit back a gasp hearing Jeonghan’s voice from behind you, right at the shell of your ear as you stood behind the stove, stirring his meal. Gulping you turned, regretting it immediately when you found yourself inches away from him yet again but this time, he was standing in just his towel, blonde wet hair falling into his eyes, rivets of water running down his smooth abdomen. As your eyes found their way back up again, Jeonghan smirked at you. 
“Strange.” He cocked his head at you. “On one hand you seem so meek and quiet, yet no one has ever really looked at me the way you do.” 
Please don’t say things like that. 
Feeling unnaturally hot, perhaps because you were sandwiched between a boiling pot of noodles and a man this attractive, you turned away, turning off the gas, wiping the sweat running down your neck. 
Jeonghan chuckled. “I need something to wear. Think you got anything?” 
You nodded, setting the pot down, before moving away from him (thank god) and walking into your office room. Jeonghan followed at a distance, shaking off the water in his hair, looking around confused as he stepped in. 
“Aren’t you a bit too old to play dress up?” He pointed at the mannequin in the corner donning a pretty maroon half finished dress. 
“That’s…. My work.” You confessed, going through a stack of clothes in the drawers on the far end. 
“You made that?” 
You nodded softly. “Yeah I’m sort of a freelance fashion designer.” 
“For who, the dead?” He frowned. “Who even wears clothes like these anymore?” 
Trying not to get too offended, you pulled out the pair of pajamas you were looking for and turned to him. “It’s for the main lead of the new Macbeth play. I, uh, custom make clothes for theater productions and stage plays.” 
“Ah.” He nodded looking around at the large table filled with all kinds of measuring tapes and scissors and big shelves stacked with materials of all kinds, two sewing machines lined up against the wall. “Interesting.” 
You're not really sure what he found so fascinating but you cleared your throat, trying to change the topic. 
“I only have this that might fit you.” Walking over, you handed him a neatly folded purple checkered pajama set. “I made it for my…. for someone a few years back but he didn’t like the colour so it's brand new.” 
“I love purple.” Jeonghan grinned, taking it from you, immediately slipping on the shirt. “By someone else, do you mean one of the boys?”
You shook your head. “No, I never make clothes for them, my style is a bit too…. um old fashioned?” 
“You continue to surprise me.” He looked at you thoughtfully. “Old fashioned with clothes but open minded enough to live with three men.”
You blinked stupidly. “I don't live with three men.”
“Oh they don’t live here?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “You four aren't a thing?” 
 “Four? As in all four of us??.….” You looked at him wide eyed and scandalized. “Of course not! How could you even think that, w-what does that even mean-” 
“Okay relax princess.” Jeonghan took a step back, raising his hands. “Even if you were, it’s cool. I don’t judge.” 
Definitely not relaxing, you looked everywhere but at him, heat continuing to rise uncomfortably in your body. 
Jeonghan looked at you amused, biting his lip. “But I will judge if you continue to stand here and watch me wear the pants.” 
Shaking your head and apologising, you practically ran out of there, heart racing in your chest as you leaned against the kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge. The kind of things he said, the way he looked….Please please please stop it. 
Trying your best to push him out of your mind, you got back to the stove, grabbing the pot and placing it on the table. You stared at it for a bit before sighing and pulling out a few of your mom’s sides from the fridge, adding it to his meal. As you poured out a glass of juice, Jeonghan walked up, rubbing his hands, pulling the chair and sitting down. 
“You put sides and all? Sweet.” 
He grabbed the pair of chopsticks and took a large bite, humming in relief. You knew it was burning hot, but he was probably way too hungry to care because the speed made it look like he was inhaling it. 
“Sit.” He looked up mid bite. “I don’t like eating alone.” 
Although you didn't wish to be in his presence for long, you sat down, unable to say no. The entire time, Jeonghan ate quietly, tasting all the sides, drinking the juice in between, loudly smacking his lips after every bite. After devouring it all in less than five minutes, he raised the bowl to his mouth, downing all the soup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  “That was so delicious princess, I almost wanna stay here all my life.” He got up, stretching as he did. “But unfortunately 10 days is all we have.” 
Silently, you half nodded, gathering all the dishes he had left on the table, taking them to the sink. Jeonghan watched you, please stop looking at me, and when you returned to wipe the table, he leaned in, for the third time tonight, putting his face incredibly close to yours. “You’re a tough nut to crack, but I think I’ll have you all figured out in ten days.” As you tried to move further back, unable to breathe in the proximity, he moved closer, smirking. “Goodnight princess.” 
And with that he walked off, turning into your bedroom, closing the door behind him. 
You simply stared, rapidly blinking, heart refusing to calm down, chest heaving as you struggled to breathe.
And this was just day zero of ten. 
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Day 1 of 10 
“Yoon Jeonghan has to go.” 
Soonyoung, Seungkwan and Seokmin looked up from their dinner as you slammed the restaurant door open. Immediately panicked and looking around, they pulled you to their table, shushing you with hushed voices. 
“What is wrong with you-” Seungkwan hissed as Seokmin went over to the only other people in the shop, the two old ladies sitting in the corner, trying to distract them with some free tea. “-you can’t go around screaming his name.” 
“You don’t understand.” Leaning back into the chair, you sighed. “I cannot be around him, I can’t handle it….” 
“What did he even do?” Soonyoung looked at you curiously and Seokmin returned, settling in his chair. 
And then you began to spill the details of all the events, starting from the moment he took over your bedroom last night. 
Yes you lived in a decently sized two bedroom house but with one room converted into your workspace and the other occupied by Jeonghan, you had no choice but to take the extremely uncomfortable couch in the living room. Of course you were already drifting in and out of sleep because of all the pain in your back and like that was not enough……
As though on cue, the lady who lived in the apartment above yours walked in, her pleasant expression turning almost disgusted as her eyes fell on you and you knew precisely why - because of all the obnoxiously loud moaning last night. 
Seokmin watched the two of you, eyes narrowing. “Why is she looking at you like that?” 
Voice shaking, you told them. 
“Wait wait wait.” Seungkwan interjected, jaw dropping. “You’re telling me he didn’t just sleep in your room but also…. also brought home a woman?” 
You nodded. For a hot second, last night you thought you were dreaming or imagining those sounds. As you focused, listening harder you realised they were the moans of an actual woman, coming straight from your bedroom,  followed by Jeonghan’s soft grunts. And lord, the things he was saying??
Are you even trying? Is that the best you can do?
Oh, you feel good? Where are your manners then? Be a good girl and thank me. 
You’ll do anything, won’t you? This is all you’re good for - a set of wet and wanting holes. 
“So you think he brought home a whore-” You winced at the word, making Seokmin immediately change his statement. “-a person, a professional, and had a love making session in your room? On your bed?” 
“I don’t think it, I know it.” You groaned. “And that was no love making, it was loud and-” You gulped, pressing your legs together, trying to ignore the feeling between them. “-and just disturbing.” 
“I understand it’s hard for you,” Seungkwan started. “But if it’s just that one thing-”
“Oh no no it’s not just that one thing.” You sat up, ready with a whole mentally prepared list. “That's what I slept to, guess what I woke up to? A delivery man with nearly 30 packages of all sorts of things he ordered online for his ‘ease’ because he ‘can’t live without them’ and you might wonder what the issue with that is? It is the fact that he had me pay for it and it wasn’t five or ten dollars, I paid seven thousand dollars in the morning-” All the boys' jaws dropped. “-that’s right I paid seven thousand for his things which he, by the way, made me sit and open because his ‘head hurts too much’.”
“Okay, we get it-”
“And he keeps wearing all my clothes! Not mine, I mean the ones I make-” You corrected when the boys looked at you weirdly. “This morning he wore the pure white cashmere sweater I spent hours making for the evil queen in Snow white. Now it sits in my house decorated with polka dots of ramyeon soup.”
“Oh-” 
“And he never cleans up after himself! He expects me to cook, sits and eats and then just leaves when he’s done?! He drops crumbs everywhere, he doesn't put things back in their place, I'm-”
“Breathe hon breathe,” Soonyoung rubbed your back. “He's inconvenient and it sucks, we get it but….but it’s only been a day?” He looked around, pausing as the lady above your house collected her food and walked past, face turned away from you. “What about the rest of the time? Did he bother you in any way?” 
“Not really.” You sigh. “He pretty much minds his own business. He was either sleeping or watching tv the rest of the time…and also going through all my fashion magazines, with potato chip dust on his fingers by the way-” 
“Alright, alright, we get it, he’s a pain.” Seungkwan looked at you a little pleadingly. “But you do know, given our current situation, we don’t have a choice but to house him for another 9 days.”
“Kwan, It’s still not too late to hand him over to the cops-” 
“Please.” Seungkwan pleaded, hands joined, ready to fall to his knees if needed. “We’ll give you a higher share of the ransom if you want-” 
“You think money is the issue?” 
“Of course it’s not, he’s an idiot to suggest that.” Seokmin interrupted. “It’s not about the money Y/n, just…. do it for us? Think about how you could reform the three of our lives. We could go from busting our asses waiting tables here to maybe owning our own little shop. Don’t you want that for us?” 
You stared at Seokmin’s puppy face then at Soonyoung’s big eyes then at…..whatever cute expression Seungkwan was trying and failing to make. If you could help improve the lives of the friends who were closest to you, maybe you can hang in there for a few days? 
You could not. You most definitely could not. And you realised that the moment you excitedly stepped into your house again with a generous amount of packed late night snacks. 
Clothes - Jeonghan’s and a woman’s - were strewn all over the house, right from the main door to the bedroom as though they couldn’t wait for even the five seconds it took to walk the minimal distance. As you heard a guttural moan, you shut your ears, preparing for yet another night of suffocating yourself under your pillow. 
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Day 2 of 10 
“I got you some DakGalBi.” Soonyoung raised the familiar black bag of the bbq shop before him as you sighed. 
“I made the same thing for lunch.” 
“You did?” He looked surprised. “I thought you didn’t know how to.” 
“I don't, I watched a few videos; followed a cookbook.” You mumbled. “Jeonghan said he wanted to eat.” 
“Is he still bothering you?” Soonyoung asked concerned, eyes running over your tired features. By bothering if he meant taking over every aspect of your life and not giving you the freedom to breathe peacefully in your own house, then yes, Yoon Jeonghan was absolutely bothering you. Did you tell Soonyoung that though? No, because 1, just yesterday, you had told your friends that you would “hang in there” and 2, you most definitely couldn’t hang in there and were already secretly planning ways to oust Jeonghan from your house. 
The journey to making this decision started the moment you woke up. It was yet again to the sound of knocking except, it wasn’t on your door, it was coming from your home office. Wondering what in the world Jeonghan was doing there, you quickly kicked off the covers and jumped to your feet, walking over. At first glance, you didn’t spot him inside and then your eyes found a complete stranger drumming her fingers on your sewing machine. You stood frozen, fully taken aback as she looked at you, your favorite coffee mug in her hand as she sipped out of it. 
“This dress could use a deeper neck.” She pointed at the one on the mannequin and then at herself. “Like this.” 
You refused to look at her plunging neckline out of which all her….assets were spilling out. God knows why you couldn’t refuse to take her opinion on your work or tell her to get the hell out of your house. Instead, you just continued to stand frozen until you felt Jeonghan’s presence behind you. 
“What are you doing here?” He sounded like he just woke up, voice just a little deep and husky. 
“I was curious what was in here-” 
“I mean what are you still doing here?” He walked up, putting himself between the two of you. “You were supposed to leave after you were done.” 
“It was raining outside, I couldn’t go.” She muttered, looking at him hopefully. “Besides I wanted to see you in the morning before I go-” 
“I don’t.” He cut her off, pointing over his shoulder. “Get going.” 
“But-” 
“Go.” He repeated, more firmly this time. 
Looking mad, she slammed the coffee mug on the table and grabbed her bag from the floor. As she walked up to Jeonghan and tried to plant a kiss on his cheek, he turned his face away, “Don’t cross the line. Get out.” 
Huffing she left, the sound of the front door closing resounding behind her. Jeonghan turned to you, rolling his eyes, looking at you like you’ll understand. “The audacity when she can’t even deepthroat without gagging.” 
You didn’t understand. You didn’t want to understand. You just wanted him to stop saying these kind of things. Please please please shut up. 
When he walked away, yawning and stretching, you grabbed the coffee mug, nearly crying at the sight of a neat brown ring of coffee imprinted on the paper. 
Oh yeah, Yoon Jeonghan had to go. 
Now you would have told all this to the boys but you knew they would tell you to ‘adjust for a few days’ and as always, you'd give in, regardless of the fact that you wanted this man’s entire existence obliterated from your life. So you decided to handle things differently now - you would get Jeonghan out of your house without the boys realising you had a hand in it - that way you'd be free and they couldn't blame you. You weren’t quite sure how to go about this plan but that was until you went to the grocery store in the afternoon to buy some ingredients for lunch. 
The biggest drawback of this suburb was that there was barely anyone below the age of twenty who could help you out with your predicament except for the cashier's grandson, Minguk. Minguk lived in the city, but over the weekends, he came to help his grandmother, greeting you every time you crossed paths. You weren’t really close friends but he was always nice to you, helping you reach things from the higher shelves, offering to carry heavier items to your house. If anyone here could recognise Jeonghan and help you out, it had to be him. 
That’s why when you went to the shop, you told the old lady you needed a big bag of rice, twenty five kgs of it for some big rice starch cloth experiment, asking if Minguk could drop by later and bring it to your house. She agreed happily, stating she would get him to do it the moment he came in the evening and you left, waiting for said evening and said moment to arrive. 
Your prediction for the events that would follow today went somewhat like this - Minguk would come home, notice and recognise Jeonghan, ask you to get behind him while they fought and Minguk would knock down Jeonghan’s skinny ass stick figure, then make sure to hand Jeonghan to the police while you sadly told BooSeokSoon it was unfortunate that things unfolded this way. 
Now for this whole plan to be successful, you needed Soonyoung to get out of the house as soon as possible because Minguk could come any moment now. Hence you resorted to answering all of the former’s questions with short, simple replies, hoping this conversation would end fast.
“No he’s not still bothering me.”  “You sure? You-”  “Absolutely.”  “Again, we’re sorry that this-”  “No worries.”  Soonyoung frowned, confused at your curt answers. “Where is he now?” “Bathroom, showering I think.”  “What did he do before lunch?”  “Waited for lunch.”  “What did he do after lunch?”  “Nothing.” You shrugged. “Claimed he was bored, sat in my home office and watched me sketching for hours together.”  “He was…. just watching you?”  “Not the whole time, he fell asleep in between…”
You recalled how hearing his soft snores, you looked up from your work, eyes falling on him leaning back against the bean bag, drifted off in a pleasant slumber. As you glanced at him, noticing just how sharp his jaw was and how high his cheekbones sat, his lips curled into a small smile. You’re giving me that look again, princess. After that, you didn’t take your eyes off your work even once. 
“I think he fell asleep?” 
“Did you get any sleep?” Soonyoung looked over your shoulder at your bedding still on the couch. “Did he… you know, bring someone last night too?” 
You nodded, but brushed it off immediately. “It’s fine, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I promised you guys 10 days, I’ll deliver.” 
Soonyoung looked relieved, before he glanced at his watch, face morphing in worry. “It’s nearly peak hour, I gotta go back to the restaurant.” 
You agreed to him, assuring him you were fine when he asked you again, waving goodbye as you shut the door behind him. 
Minguk would be here any minute now, and if all went well, you’d finally be free again. 
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Day 3 of 10 
All did not go well. 
In complete contrast to what you had imagined, here you were, yet again cooking lunch for Jeonghan, still absolutely sleep deprived and there he was, lying sprawled on your couch, going through your books, just like yesterday. Only difference was, Seokmin was on call, the sound of him chewing his apple ringing in your ears. 
As you moved around to make Kalguksu, Jeonghan’s order of the day, Seokmin spoke into your ear. “So you're saying he's not too bad to live with?” 
Bad? Bad was an understatement. Living with Yoon Jeonghan was the absolute worst. Just this morning, when you had stepped out to check your mailbox, your neighbour coincidentally returned from her morning walk, greeting you with a hard smile, asking why you looked so tired. You told her you had a lot of orders to work on, claiming you had to stay up all night to finish it and to that she said, “Yes, I think everyone in this building can tell what exactly you are doing staying up all night.” 
Never in your life before that statement did you want to be swallowed by concrete. You knew last night must’ve been particularly more noticeable because the women so far were moaners but this one….. Oh she was a screamer; so loud not even your pillow could save you. Thank god she was gone by the morning but so was a very treasured dress of yours, one you gifted by your mother. When Jeonghan woke up, he mumbled something about how her clothes tore, and she grabbed something from your cupboard before he went off to take a shower. 
“Yes, he’s not too bad.” You replied, glad Seokmin couldn't see your sarcastic expression. 
“I had a feeling he was a chill guy from the first time we saw him-” Seokmin continued to loudly chew on call. “-he seems kinda calm and knowledgeable?”
Yes, if only Seokmin heard all the 'instructions' Jeonghan loved to give his lady friends at night, he would know just how knowledgeable this man was. Although he did say something that you were thinking about for a while now…
“Min.” You slid onto the kitchen counter. “Do you think Minguk has a crush on me?” 
“Minguk as in supermart granny’s grandson Minguk?” Seokmin chuckled. “Yeah, obviously, a mega huge one.” 
“What?” You looked at your phone betrayed. “How could you not tell me?” 
“I assumed you knew and didn’t care?” Seokmin sounded nonchalant. “Since you know, he already has a girlfriend?” 
That’s what you had said too, last night when Minguk came over and all did not go well. 
Initially, it was going according to plan though. A few moments after Soonyoung left, Minguk arrived at your door, carrying a huge sack of rice, half panting as he smiled at you. Given that Jeonghan was still in the bathroom, you engaged him in casual conversation, hoping the man who usually showered in under 5 minutes, would finally come out after the two hours he had been holed up in there. Just as you were running out of stupid questions to ask, Minguk looked over your shoulder, forehead slowly pulling together in a frown as you heard footsteps behind you. Finally finally finally, please help me-
“Who is that?” He pointed, looking confused. Did he not recognise….? 
You turned, as Jeonghan approached you, your eyes widening as they landed on him - he had dyed his golden blonde hair into a dark jet black, the length of it also a lot shorter now, the pieces framing his face pushed back in a way even you could barely recognise him. You continued staring as he walked over, throwing his arm around your shoulder, glancing at Minguk.
“And who is this?” 
Tearing your eyes away from him, you looked at Minguk, almost at a loss of words, “T-this is Minguk, he works um in the supermarket nearby, he’s my friend and this is uh….” You gulped, the weight of Jeonghan’s hand heavy on your shoulder. “This is-” 
“Come on, don’t be shy.” Jeonghan laughed. “Hi….friend? I’m the boyfriend.” 
“Oh.” Minguk looked at you just as surprised as you looked at him. “I didn’t know…” 
Neither did you.
“Yeah we’ve been doing long distance for a while now, I just got back recently.” Jeonghan answered like it was a matter of fact when a few days back, you didn't even know of his existence. 
After that Minguk, who always said bye to you with a cheery wave, mumbled that he had to go and left, without sparing you a second glance.
“What an idiot.” Jeonghan chuckled as he let you go, walking into the house. “Men who don’t have the guts to be honest with the woman they like are not worth anyone’s time.” 
“I’m sorry what?” You frowned, closing the door and following him. “The woman they like?” 
Jeonghan looked at you incredulously. “You didn’t know? He was literally making heart eyes, his drool is probably outside on the floor-” 
“He has a girlfriend.” 
“So?” He shrugged. 
“So he can’t possibly like me??” 
Jeonghan looked at you amused. “You’re dense as hell princess, there’s so much I could teach you.” and with that he walked away leaving you baffled, which was not how you expected events to turn out yesterday. 
As Seokmin went on and on about how Minguk wasn’t being fair to his girlfriend, you zoned out, mind wandering on something else entirely. You needed a new, revised plan, one that was guaranteed to get Jeonghan out of your life and this time, you swore you wouldn’t fail.
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Day 4 of 10 
Plan B failed just as miserably as plan A. 
You had promised yourself to get Jeonghan out of your life, but all you managed to do was get him out of the house. 
That was part of the plan though, him stepping out was vital but somehow, as though luck loved him and despised you, things worked out in his favour yet again. 
Plan B was a long and elaborate one, one that you worked on really hard, starting from last night. 
Last night, you got into your couch tired as hell, but determined not to sleep, eyes wide open in the darkness. Around 1am, you heard the sound of feet shuffling as Jeonghan’s silhouette walked past you, opening the door, letting yet another girl into your house. As the two of them moved towards your room, bodies and tongues tangled, shutting the bedroom door behind them, you immediately got up, rushing to your office room. Looking up the posters of Jeonghan on the internet, you quickly printed out a bunch of them, silently donned your jacket and a mask and left your house in the dead of the night. It took you nearly 3 hours but by the end of it you had put up those posters along all the streets of the suburb and had barely just returned and got under the covers when the bedroom door opened and Jeonghan’s companion of the night left your house. Confident that by daybreak, everyone in the neighborhood would know Jeonghan’s face and there would at least be someone smarter than Minguk who could look past the changed hair colour, you slept happily, after a long time. 
But you were rudely awakened by the sound of Jeonghan’s voice, whispering right by your ear. 
“Be honest. You don’t actually want me to leave do you?” 
Your eyes flew open only to find his face hovering above yours, inches away. You held your breath as his hand rested on your waist, fingers tracing over the sliver of skin exposed by your shirt having ridden up. 
“You’re scared of what I do to you.” He smirked, lips teasingly close to yours. “But I could do so many wonderful things to you princess.” 
You gasped as you felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear, inching closer and closer to the desperate hot and wet feeling between your legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him…. You didn’t want to. As he slipped a finger in, groaning about how tight you were, your eyes flew open, meeting the cracks on the ceiling above. 
Petrified, you sat up, forehead and neck drenched in sweat as though every nerve ending was on fire. Did you just have a wet dream about Yoon Jeonghan?? 
Oh he had to leave. He had to leave as soon as possible. This plan had to work. 
And you really thought it would when you were going to buy lunch (today he wanted clam chowder which was way beyond your expertise) and he insisted on following you to get it since he was getting bored at home. You thought the entire universe had finally channelised its energy into helping you get rid of him. 
You could not have been more wrong. 
Turned out that in the few hours you had spent happily sleeping, it rained cats and dogs, obliterating nearly every single piece of paper you had put up. Hours of your hard work was quite literally washed down the drain while Jeonghan happily walked out in the open right alongside dozens of people who had no idea who he was. On the contrary, they had a wilder assumption regarding who he might be - apparently your boyfriend. 
The moment you’d stepped into the restaurant, all the old women who were your grandmother’s friends and loved to strike conversation with you, absolutely ignored your existence as they caught hold of ‘your boyfriend’, insisting that the two of you eat with them. You sat across Jeonghan, watching him talking and giggling with all the old ladies as they threw all sorts of questions at him. He answered, stuffing his mouth with food, spinning the most wonderful stories of your relationship, stories that made you almost wish they were true.
After he bid them all goodbye, which was nearly two hours later, he declared he wanted to play football in the big ground where all the ladies had mentioned their visiting grandkids were playing. You took him there, sitting on the sidelines and watching this man twice their height, tackling all the little kids effortlessly, laughing - not sadistically, just happily, enjoying himself. At that moment somehow, he felt so ordinary, like any other normal person, like he could really have been your boyfriend, like this was really your life. You abandoned that thought the moment Jeonghan pulled you from the bench into the field, demanding that you play. Though you despised the idea of running around in half muddy fields, as always, you found yourself unable to say no to him, joining him and the kids in a game that was a lot more fun than you had anticipated. That was until it started pouring rain again, forcing all of you to run back to your homes, drenched from head to toe by the time you reached. The laughter in your chest fizzled out at the sight of Jeonghan shaking the wet droplets of his hair, his wet shirt sticking to his body, the outline of it unnecessarily obvious. 
But I could do so many wonderful things to you princess.
Gulping, you left to dry yourself, heart racing behind its cage, not wanting to think of the dream. The rest of the evening you refused to so much as look at him, focusing on only on the one thing you were supposed to - Plan C.
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Day 5 of 10
Plan C was short and simple and it was supposed to work like a charm. 
To be honest, a part of you always had a feeling plan A and B wouldn’t work because BooSeokSoon were right - expecting anyone in this neighbourhood to know Jeonghan was stupid. So if nobody here recognised Jeonghan, you had to bring someone who recognised Jeonghan here. And that’s exactly what you did because just as you were washing the breakfast dishes and Jeonghan was asking for your help with something, there was a loud knock on the door. 
“Police, open up.” 
Finally. 
After you had gotten up in the morning, under the pretext of getting milk, you went over to the closest public phone, calling the one and only police station nearby, the one over twenty five miles away. Trying to keep the message as anonymous and vague as possible, you spoke about how it seemed like something was not right in unit 84, your own apartment. With the fear of being identified, you didn't tell them anything else but clearly your half information was taken seriously because barely half an hour later, they were here at your door. Before you could wash your soapy hands and walk over the door, Jeonghan was already there, opening it.
You held your breath, staying hidden in the kitchen, peeking from behind the wall as the two men looked at each other. The expectation was a dramatic, movie-like scene where both men confronted each other with fists, maybe even guns but the reality, much to your surprise, was the complete opposite - they were both just talking, having a conversation you could barely hear from your hiding place. Could the cop also not recognise Jeonghan? 
The answer was no, he could not. It was Jeonghan’s luck playing it’s hand once again because the moment the cop shook Jeonghan’s hand and left and the latter turned you, you noticed how the entire lower half of his face was lathered in layers of shaving foam rendering half his face completely hidden. You vaguely recalled he was asking you for help to shave, wondering what were the odds that the cop would turn up at this exact moment. Jeonghan’s luck was indeed your biggest enemy. 
Inwardly crying about the fact that not only did he just dodge your biggest weapon, but you still had to continue doing menial work for him, you followed him to the bathroom. As you prepared the razor, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, peering at you curiously in the mirror. 
“Why do you think the cop turned up at your house today?” 
Trying not to let your hands shake, you shrugged. “How would I know?....What did he say?” 
“Someone apparently called to complain about something strange going on in this house.” 
You met his eye in the reflection, thinking fast. “I mean it is a quiet neighbourhood and the people around are really old so, I guess, maybe someone complained about, you know, all the noise at night….” 
“But you don’t use the sewing machine at night?” Jeonghan frowned like he didn’t understand. 
Clearing your throat, you turned to him. “Not me, it's you…and you know all the….” Making vague hand gestures you tried to explain your point. “....when the girls come and…”
“Sex?” Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, half laughing. “What are you, a prude? You can’t say the word sex?” 
Shifting uneasily you looked away from him, mumbling. “I just don't think everything has to be said….”
Jeonghan didn't say anything to that, continuing to look at you just a little amused as you stood between his manspread, holding his jaw and tilting his head up. When his eyes met yours, a strange something flashing behind them, every cell in your body feeling hyper-alert. Gulping you slowly ran the blades along his cheek, your own cheeks heating up under his gaze, one that never left your face. 
When you did a half turn to grab a towel, feet stumbling in the process, Jeonghan’s hands flew to grab your hips, stabilizing you. He didn't let go even after you had found your footing. He didn't let go even after you finished the task at hand. 
“I'm done…” You mumbled, taking a step back and his grip on you finally loosened. Just for a second though, before he suddenly held your hand and stood up, face inches away from yours, eyes still on you the same way. 
“What’s your deal princess?” 
You gulped, looking away confused when he bent down, to your eye level, looking curious.
“You can't even bring yourself to say ‘sex’ but….” He ran his thumb across your lower lip, rubbing away a speck of foam that somehow seemed to have gotten there. “The way you look at me, there's something a lot darker behind those eyes. Which is the real you?” 
You had no idea. 
You really really had no idea.
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Which is the real you?
Staring at the ceiling you pondered over Jeonghan’s question. 
Was it the you who was thoroughly scandalized by the things Jeonghan kept saying and doing? Or the you who was lying on the couch wide awake at nearly 1am, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening to the same man absolutely ruin someone in your bed. You told yourself it wasn’t that you liked it, you were simply curious. As for why you had kept your legs pressed together, you had no answer, you most definitely were not turned on, no. 
But strangely the discomfort between your legs only got worse, like a dull, desperate ache. Hesitating, you slipped your hand under the waistband of your underwear, fingers slowly inching downward, terrified of what you would discover. Your digits slid easily, given the fact that you were soaked, eyes shutting tight in embarrassment. This was so wrong and so inappropriate on so many levels….. quickly getting yourself together you rushed over to the bathroom, washing up, throwing cold water on your face to get you back into your senses. Getting it together and patting your face dry with your towel, you walked out, stepping into complete silence. 
Frowning, you turned to the clock -  usually, Jeonghan went on for hours together, giving you some peace of mind only around 3am in the morning - could they have been done already? Confused, you slowly moved towards the room door, pushing it softly, expecting to find Jeonghan fast asleep. Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman on all fours, her head pressed into the mattress, muffling her sounds as Jeonghan railed her from behind, his hips snapping against hers at a ridiculous pace. 
Now either you should have run away from there, or screamed and then run away from there but you did neither - instead you simply froze, eyes wide and unblinking, unable to move any part of your body. It became a whole lot worse when Jeonghan, whose face was contorted with focus, suddenly lifted his head, his vision finding you by the door. The only good thing that came from this was that somehow, you found your footing again, stumbling back, loudly shutting the door. Not knowing what else to do, you grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and quickly ran out of the house, ignoring the heavy pitter patter of the rain. Thank god the boys are still sitting at the restaurant, gathered around a table, laughing away. You walked in, ready to cry out of embarrassment and dissolve in your embarrassment. 
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“Okay, let’s calm down a little.” Seokmin reached for your glass, prying it out of your hands slowly, earning a glare from you. 
“I need it. I need to drown in my sorrows.” You looked over your shoulder at the lady who was sitting at the table alone, hiccuping at her fourth bottle of beer. “Like her.” 
“What’s the deal with that woman?” Seungkwan muttered looking over. “She’s been here for hours.” 
“Something about her crush being kissed by his best friend.” Soonyoung shrugged. “Apparently the other girl dared her to watch.” 
“Ouch.” You grimaced, thoroughly impressed. “God I wish I could be like that.” 
“You are like that.” Seungkwan pointed at all the bottles of soju in front of you. 
“Not her, the other one.” You clicked your tongue, not hearing the restaurant door opening behind you. “I wish I was daring like that. Gutsy enough to put people in their place, to say what’s on my mind, to tell Yoon Jeonghan to stop fucking other people in my bed-” 
“Would you rather I fuck you?” 
You turned quickly, a chill running down your spine as you found Jeonghan right behind, bent over to whisper into your ear. All three boys before you looked with their jaws hung. Turning away from him, unable to meet his eyes, you mumbled something even you didn’t understand. 
Jeonghan smiled. “Doesn’t sound like a no.” 
“I could barely recognise you.” Seokmin looked at the man before him in awe, glancing over his not so new hairdo. “Black hair looks good on you.” 
“I know.” Jeonghan agreed like it was a matter of fact before turning to you again. “The rain just stopped but looks like it might start again anytime soon, you should come home.” 
You shook your head slowly.
“I’m amazed you know how to refuse.” Jeonghan chuckled. “But now’s not the time to; come home.” 
“No.” You stood up, facing him. “I don’t want to go to your home.” 
“Not mine, yours.” 
“Oh yeah.” You looked at him spacey as Jeonghan tried to stop himself from laughing. “That’s my house. My room. My bed. What the hell are you doing there?” 
“A new woman everyday apparently.” Soonyoung muttered, purposely looking away from Jeonghan. 
“What kind of person does that?” You poked his chest, slurring. “A-and the way you talk to them? Who says things like that?” 
“Okay, we can discuss this at home. It’s 3am, get up-” 
“It’s 3???” Seungkwan quickly turned at the clock on the wall. “Fuck, fuck, fuck we have to close up.” 
The boys quickly got to their feet, one gathering the trash, the other stacking the dishes and the other ushering the only other person in the store to leave. She got up, walking towards the entrance, wantonly tripping on her own feet and holding onto Jeonghan. Something in you wanted to smack her right across the head. 
“Hi,” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I’m Yuri.” 
“Hi,” Jeonghan pulled his arm from her grip. “I’m not interested.” He turned to you, blatantly ignoring the other girl’s existence. “Let’s go.” 
You watched as the poor woman, looking close to tears, stormed out as you swayed and muttered. “I can’t. I can barely stand, forget walking.” 
“Get on my back.” Jeonghan offered, making you laugh. 
“Have you seen yourself?” You threw your jacket over your shoulders. “If you carry me, you’ll break. Like literally snap in half.” 
“Huh.” Jeonghan inched closer to you, tucking his hands in his pocket. “There’s so much to teach you princess. Lesson number one, size does not matter.” 
Yet again, you found yourself burning under his gaze, words lost in your mouth which was opening and closing like a fish. Sighing, Jeonghan swooped down faster than you could register his movement, grabbing you by the knees, throwing you over his shoulder. Shrieking, you protested, trying to get him to put you down but he simply ignored you, walking away as your friends watched, thoroughly shocked. 
Within minutes he had you in your house, putting you down in your bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the bathtub as he grabbed your towel. Standing before you, he tilted your head up, softly rubbing the towel into your hair, drying it. You tried to avoid his eye, looking everywhere but him and that small amused smile on his face, only looking at him when he finally spoke. 
“What’s your name?” 
You scoffed. “You lived in my house for 5 days, ate my food, slept in my bed, and you don’t know my name?” 
“I didn’t think it was necessary.” 
“Why is it necessary now?” 
He smiled. “If you want me to fuck you, I need to know your name princess.” 
“God.” You pulled away from him. “I didn’t say I want you to… to…” 
“There we go again.” He sighed. “The celestial prude returns.” 
“I’m not a prude, don’t call me that.” You pointed an accusatory finger at him. “I’ll have you know I have….” You cleared your throat, the volume of your voice considerably lowering. “I have slept with a man before. More than once. In fact, I have also slept with two men at the same time.” 
Jeonghan raised his eyebrow like he didn’t believe it. 
“Okay fine, one of them was just watching…...” You rolled your eyes. “But there were two, my boyfriend - ex-boyfriend - and his friend-” 
“Did you agree to that?” 
Somehow Jeonghan’s voice was a lot harder now, catching you off guard. 
“Huh?” 
“I asked you if you agreed for your boyfriend’s friend to watch?” 
“I….” You stuttered, looking around. “I didn’t say no.” 
“Princess, you never say no.” Jeonghan crouched before you, looking serious. “But that doesn’t mean it's a yes.” 
You stared at him unsure what to say. That was a night you never thought about again - you always thought it was maybe because you were embarrassed but perhaps…..a part of you was trying to forget it ever happened. 
“You asked me who says the kind of things I do in bed, right? I say them because the women I’m with want me to, they enjoy it. But what you just told me,” Jeonghan shook his head. “Did you want that?” 
“I…I don’t know.” You confess. You didn’t ever question yourself like Jeonghan was. “He didn’t ask and I didn’t think I could say no-” 
“You can always say no.” Jeonghan insisted, holding your hands. “If you don’t want something, you should say no. The same way, if you want something, you should ask for it, unashamed.” 
“Then I… I want you..…” You whispered, unsure whether you should say it, not noticing the way Jeonghan's eyes darkened instantly. Taking a deep breath, you continued. “I want you…. to stop sleeping in my bed. I want you to stop wearing the clothes I design. I want you to stop making me cook for you-”
“Okay wow we’re spiraling-”
“I want you to stop making me clean after you, to stop treating me like your personal assistant, I mean what kind of man doesn’t know how to shave-” 
“The kind who’s always had people to do these things for him so he doesn’t really know how to do anything.” He muttered, sighing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think of it too much, I should’ve been more mindful of how I was being…. but now that you told me-” He got up. “-I won’t bother you, and on the off chance that I do, and you wish for me to leave, I will do so immediately, I promise.” 
You nodded slowly, both amazed that you managed to get all of that off your chest and that he took it all really well. He continued to look at you like you were both fascinating and funny. 
“What?” 
“You still haven’t told me your name by the way.” 
Half laughing you did and he repeated it, your name rolling off his tongue in a way that made something in your stomach flip. 
“I’m going to grab whatever clothes of yours I can find.” He walked up to the door, turning to you. “Please change, you’ll fall sick if you sleep in wet clothes.” 
With that he left, and that was the last thing you remembered. 
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Day 6 of 10 
Today you woke up in the bathtub. 
The twisted form that you slept in obviously resulted in stiff joints and pains all over but it was falling asleep in drenched clothes that caused the continuous sneezing that followed. Dragging yourself out of the bathroom, you slowly walked into your house, meeting a strange silence - Jeonghan wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Feeling too weak to even wonder where he was, you dragged yourself to the couch, sinking into it, eyes fluttering shut. No more than five minutes later, you were awakened by the feeling of a cold hand on your forehead, making you jump at the suddenness. Jeonghan peered at you shaking his head. 
“Great, you’ve got a fever.” He clicked his tongue. “I was gone for two minutes last night and you fell asleep in the tub.” 
“Should’ve woken me up.” 
“Believe me, I tried but you wouldn’t even budge and it wasn’t like I could just carry you out of there.” He turned away muttering as you raised your eyebrows in faux surprise. “Okay, just carrying you once almost broke my back, so yeah, I admit it, I’m weak.” 
You burst out laughing, doubling over into a coughing fit as Jeonghan handed you a bottle of water, smiling almost fondly. 
“What do you want to eat for lunch?” 
“You’re going to make lunch?” 
“Don’t get used to it, only cause you’re sick.” 
You pondered, leaning back into the pillows. “Something hot and with soup would be great actually.” 
“Can you shower and change out of those clothes in the meantime?” 
You whined, shaking your head, body drained of all its energy. 
“Come on.” Jeonghan pulled you up from the couch, struggling as he did. “Wash up.” 
Stumbling to the bathroom, you did, albeit much slower than usual but a hot shower made all the difference in the world. You didn’t want to leave the warmth and maybe you wouldn’t have if the landline wasn’t constantly ringing. Groaning you wrapped a towel around you, dragging yourself to the phone, picking it up. 
“Where the hell is your phone?” Seungkwan scolded you from the other side. “Why won’t you pick up?” 
“On silent somewhere I guess.” You mumbled, looking around. “What’s wrong?” 
“Just wanted to check if you were okay-”
“I’m okay.” 
“-and also wanted to tell you that your dream shop? It’s up for lease.” 
You immediately straightened out, tiredness suddenly vanishing. “You mean the one down two streets? The one I've been waiting to get my hands on for months?” 
“Yes and yes and the price they’ve quoted is actually manageable.” Seungkwan sounded excited. “If us boys add a few thousand each to your 25K, I think you can actually afford it.” 
Your face softened. “You… you guys would do that for me?” 
“Of course, you’re our best friend Y/n, that’s the least we can do.” Twisting the cord of your phone, you glanced at it fondly. “Besides, you're the one who Jeonghan is living with, it's only fair….”
As though on cue, Jeonghan walked in, hands filled with bags, shooting you a surprised look. You looked back at him, both happy and conflicted. While you had been trying to get rid of Jeonghan behind your friend’s backs, they were so willing to go above and beyond for you. And the Jeonghan you so desperately were trying to paint as the big pain in your life, was here, offering to cook and look after you - did that mean you were the terrible one here? 
As Seungkwan hung up citing he had to go, Jeonghan walked up to you, looking worried. 
“All good?” 
“Yeah I just…. My dream might come true and I don’t know how to react.” 
"Dream come true?"He leaned closer, whispering into your ear. “I don't recall actually agreeing to fuck you…”
He looked at your towel clad body up and down, making you gulp and quickly walk away, gripping the material tight, him laughing behind you. 
When you returned in a fresh pair of pajamas to a Jeonghan who was busy bustling away in the kitchen, singing a song softly, he asked what dream you were talking about. 
“There's this space I've wanted to own for a long time now.” You sat down at the breakfast bar, head perched on interlocked hands. “It's up for lease and I might have the money to finally own it.”
“Congratulations princess.” Jeonghan looked up from his busy stirring, shooting you a smile. “That sounds great.” 
You nodded, continuing to feel all too happy. “I still can't believe it, I think I might pass out.” 
“Yes you might after eating this too.” He looked at you frazzled, “I might have added too much spice.”
“Is it that bad….”
You trailed away when he held out a blob of the marinade on his finger, hand extended towards you. Hesitating, you leaned closer, taking his finger in your mouth, lips wrapping around his digit and pulled off with a pop. Your eyes didn't leave him the whole time, neither did his.  
Clearing your throat, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
“It's fine actually, I can take it.” 
Jeonghan didn’t reply to that, simply turning back to his work silently. In the remaining 2 hours he spent cooking and flipping through the cookbook pages, he didn’t talk or so much as look at you. Even when the two of you were eating and you complimented his food, he just gave a short nod. It was only when everything was done and he cleared the table that he finally spoke, telling you to rest for a bit. You told him you were behind a lot of projects and orders and had to work, and that’s when he turned to you exasperated, 
“You’re sick, you can take a day off.” 
“There's nothing else to do anyway.” You mumbled. “And I don’t want to sleep again, I just woke up.” 
Jeonghan hummed, putting away the dishes before turning to you. “Wanna build something?” 
You watched confused as he unpacked the remaining bags he brought home earlier, pulling out boxes of Legos. 
“I wanna make a nice little space for Doljjong.” 
“Who?” You looked around, almost terrified. “Please don’t tell me you brought home a cat-” 
He pulled out a rock from his pocket, looking all too pleased. “Doljjong, my new pet.” 
“That’s a rock.” 
“And?” He looked at it, stroking the soft surface. “I found it while playing football yesterday. Even the kids agreed it was perfect.” 
You burst out laughing at his silliness as he continued to insist how it was the perfect pet and how he had found the perfect Lego sets to build it the perfect small home. 
That’s how most of the remaining day went - the two of you building Doljjong’s new residence. Actually, it was mostly Jeonghan at work, insisting that you were sick and slow and should just watch him. So that’s what you did, leaning against the couch, sipping on the hot tea he made you, munching on the snacks he bought, watching him giggle away, making his creation. 
As the sun began to set outside, you looked at him in the soft golden light, at how simple and ordinary he looked. Maybe you could bear him for another 4 days, maybe you didn’t have to feel so terrified around him. Or perhaps you should feel more scared now that you were comfortable around him…. 
Even as you sat next to him snuggling on your couch with afternoon’s leftovers warmed up for dinner, you could only think about how you kinda wished he was here for longer, which was kind of insane - just a day ago you were desperate to have him out of here but now? Now you had to admit to yourself that the only reason left on the long list of ‘Why Jeonghan Must Go’ was the way he made you feel, even when he was just sitting across you, eating and watching tv. God this was embarrassing….
When you finally put your thoughts behind you, getting ready to sleep in your usual place, Jeonghan offered that you take the bed but you refused, mumbling something about not washing the sheets. Laughing, Jeonghan sat back on his end of the couch, settling with a jacket wrapped around him. 
“You're gonna be here all night?” You looked at him surprised. 
“Yeah.” He shut his eyes, leaning back. “Just in case you need anything.”
“Why?” You glanced at him. “I mean everything today, why did you….” 
“I know what it's like to not have anyone care when you're sick.” Sighing, he turned to look at you. “I've always had people at my beck and call but they always worked for me like it was their job, because I was their boss. It never really felt like any of them cared and sometimes, that hurt. But I've come to terms with that, that's just what it's like in this job.” 
“Why….” You hesitated but decided to take a shot anyway. “Why did you choose this profession then? I mean, what compelled you…” 
“Compelled?” Jeonghan chuckled, looking away and shutting his eyes again. “If you're looking for a good-boy-forced-by-circumstances-to-go-bad kinda story I'm afraid I'm not the one for it, princess.” 
“If it wasn't a compulsion, was it your choice….” 
“I've never really been afraid to ask and get what I want.” He smiled. “Somewhere in that process this is who I became.”
“Is it that easy to just…. go for what you want?”
“It usually is when you don't care about the consequences that may follow so yeah, it has been easy for me.” He paused, like he was mulling over something. “So far.”
Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he leaned over, tucking you properly under the sheets. 
“Enough questions for today. You need rest.” He snuggled further on his end, a small smile dancing on his lips. “Goodnight Y/n.” 
“Goodnight…..Jeonghan.” 
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Day 7 of 10
Of all the ways you had imagined, one would think you'd wake up to Jeonghan, this was not one of them. 
He was still fast asleep seated on his end of the couch, head leaned back, mouth slightly askew, his breathing soft and deep. Only noticeable thing was his hand on your thigh like a comforting weight - you vaguely remembered him gently patting you as you broke into a coughing fit in the middle of the night. Dragging yourself to sit up, you continued to stare at him, taking in all the beautiful features - he looked just like he did the day you first saw him. Maybe you would've given in to the temptation and run your finger across the delicate angles of his face if the landline didn't ring so loudly, both pulling you back and waking him up. 
Muttering an apology you quickly picked up the call, only to be met by the even louder voice of your mother. 
“You're sick!?”
“Hi mom, yeah, I was sick.” You mumbled frowning. “….how did you know?” 
“Why didn't you tell me? I would've come, brought you some sides, made you something to eat-” 
“Please stop screaming.” You groaned. “I can hear you just fine.” 
“Don't tell me what to do young woman. How can I not scream when I find out my sick daughter is being taken care of by a boyfriend whose existence I'm not even aware of.” 
You immediately sat up. “W-what?” 
“Yeah, imagine my surprise when Minguk's grandmother told me you weren't well but I wasn't to worry because your ‘very caring boyfriend’ is looking after you well.” 
You looked at Jeonghan who seemed to be able to hear everything given the volume your mother was talking in. 
“Mom I can explain-” 
“Save it. I'm coming home.” 
“Mom-” 
And with that she cut the call, sending your heartbeat racing.
“Fuck fuck fuck-” 
“Calm down princess.” 
“You calm down!” You snapped back stupidly, running your hands through your hair. “I'm sorry, it's just, my mom is…. a hawk. She's going to figure things out-”
“You think she’ll call the cops on me?” 
“No, no that. She hates watching the news, I'm sure she has no idea who you are but she’s definitely going to know we-” you pointed between the two of you. “-aren't a thing.”
“Hey I made your supermart boy believe it.” Jeonghan shrugged, leaning back. “And every old woman in a 2km radius.” 
“Yeah well my mother isn't one of those women. She's hella observant and nosy and most importantly, she knows me. She knows I wouldn't be with someone like you.” 
“Wow,” Jeonghan let out a low whistle. “This is starting to become offensive, princess.”
“No…” You turned to him. “No no no. What I mean is, you're not exactly the gentle, sweet boyfriend kind right? I mean… you know what I mean right?” 
Jeonghan smiled at you like he was enjoying this. “No, I don't.” 
“You do.” You muttered, knowing well that he was pushing you into a spot. “The way you’re with women, it isn’t how boyfriends are really, or at least how my mum would expect my boyfriend to be.” 
“It’s not like I’m going to talk dirty to you in front of her.” 
Feeling the heat in your cheeks rise, you looked away. “No I mean… you just seem so much more….bad boy kinds and I’ve never been the kind to date someone like you, someone who’s not-” 
“A prince wearing a shining armor on a white horse who comes to save the day?” 
Yes exactly that, as evident by the many drawings in your childhood journal but Jeonghan did not need to know that. 
“-someone who’s not very gentlemanly?” 
“So what do you want me to do? Bow to your mother, kiss her hand, ask for your hand in marriage-” 
“I said gentle, not archaic.” You rolled your eyes.
“Do you really want that though?” He turned to you, head cocked in question. “A man who is gentle?”
You tried to avoid his gaze knowing he would read your answer to that like an open book.
“Of course. I'm….I'm a suburban girl with a boring, uneventful life. I…obviously want someone who's soft and sweet and-”
“Show me.” 
You turned to him so fast and so wide eyed, you were sure a vessel had burst somewhere. 
“Show me how you want to be loved.” 
Stuttering and at an absolute loss of words, you continued staring at him stupidly. Chuckling softly, like always, Jeonghan leaned close. 
“If we need to convince your mother, then you're going to have to teach me what you like, princess.” 
Gulping you blinked at him, eyes flickering to his lips. He watched you with raised eyebrows as you hesitatingly mirrored his lean, closing the space between the two of you and gently pressed your mouth onto his. 
Uncharacteristically, Jeonghan froze. 
His sudden stiffness instantly brought you back to your senses, making you pull away, ready to apologise and banish yourself into your room forever but before a word could leave your mouth, Jeonghan quickly captured it again, sighing into the kiss, lips moving unnaturally soft. 
“Well,” He muttered as he drew back and your eyes met his. “When I said show me, I meant show me what you wanted me to do to convince your mother about us? I didn’t think this was a part of that-” 
“Good god.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands and yourself in the couch. What the hell did you just do?
“Hey.” Chuckling, Jeonghan pulled your hands away, looking at you keenly. “Be honest with me though, is this really how you like it?” 
For some reason, the question seemed rhetorical, like he knew the answer already. Not entirely honest, you nodded slowly. 
“Huh.” He leaned closer, like he was challenging your answer. “Do you want to know how I like it?” 
“Yes.” 
You’re not really sure how or why that word left your mouth so quickly but clearly, Jeonghan didn’t care. Before you knew it, he ran his hand up your thigh, pulling you onto his lap with an ease you did not expect from him. 
“Are you sure?” He whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear with one hand, gripping your waist with the other. “You don’t-” 
“Please.” You whispered back and that was all it took for him to hold your face and pull you down onto his mouth, lips ravenous against yours. As your hands fisted the material of his shirt, his slipped in your hair, gripping it in a way that surprisingly didn’t hurt. Rather it felt good, like you wanted him to guide you the way he wanted, the way he liked, in any way he needed you to submit to him. As his hand ran down your back, his tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting like a mistake, a scandal and a terrible decision all at once but somehow you couldn’t stop. Even when he pulled back to breathe, you descended upon him immediately, oxygen be damned because for the first time in forever, something in you was truly alive. Smirking against your lips Jeonghan grabbed your ass, rocking you against him, the outline of his hard length evident under you. You moaned very audibly when he broke away, placing a line of kisses down your neck while your hands, out of their own will, began unbuttoning your shirt.
“Fuck princess, I knew you had a wild side.” He muttered against your skin, tongue running along the bruise he had made. 
You had no idea. You had no idea an animal as hungry as this was inside you - the dull feeling that you had been getting between your legs all these days was turning into a terribly unbearable ache. You could not ignore it anymore. 
“I need you-” You gasped, not expecting his mouth on the swell of your breasts. “I need your help, please Jeong-” 
And perhaps he would’ve helped if not for the sound of the lock turning. 
Your mother stood outside, balancing the bags in her hand, struggling to open the door with her spare set of keys. When she had managed to unlock the door and swing it open, she was met with the sight of her child and her apparent boyfriend sitting side by side expectantly. She however did not notice the mismatched buttoning of your shirt, or Jeonghan’s red, flushed expression or your hand awkwardly covering something on your neck. 
“Mom, you’re here, what a surprise.” Smiling wide and fake, you walked up to the woman setting her bags down on the kitchen counter, frowning at you. 
“I let you know I was coming like half an hour ago.” 
“Right.” You mumbled as Jeonghan joined, standing beside you. Getting a hold of yourself, you moved to stand next to your mother putting some much needed distance between you and the man you were practically dying to jump. “This is uh, Jeonghan. He’s… he’s actually…” 
“The boyfriend.” Jeonghan and your mother answered at the same time, taking each other aback. 
“Well, well.” Your mother looked at him up and down in scrutiny before breaking into a smile. “Something tells me you and I are going to get along great, Jeonghan. I want to hear all about how the two of you met.” 
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If there is anything you’ve learnt about Jeonghan today, it was that he was an excellent storyteller. Honestly, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he was one of those people who wrote fanfictions on the internet as a hobby because wow did he have the talent for it. 
As you were putting away all the things your mother bought you and he told her the apparent story of how the two of you met, you too listened in awe, stopping your work and staring at him, amazed. Your mother kept laughing, asking why you were behaving like you were listening to this story for the first time when you actually lived it. Laughing weakly you continued to listen, trying to look less awestruck.
You’re not quite sure how Jeonghan learned the idea of romance within minutes because strangely, the story he made up was nothing short of a fairytale, one that had absolutely convinced your mother. 
“Oh Hannie.” She cooed, rubbing his arm. “I’m so glad my baby found you. There could not have been anyone more perfect.” 
As she looked at you fondly over her shoulder, Jeonghan shot you a triumphant smirk. You returned their looks with a hard smile of your own. 
The rest of the day went pretty the same way - Your mother busied herself with making you some soup and dishes for lunch while Jeonghan stood nearby, entertaining her with his words and stories. Neither of them seemed to notice how you were doing. For one, you were feeling extremely hot - it was a cool day yet you were sweating like crazy, your cheeks were hot, and just the fabric of your clothes touching your skin felt weirdly uncomfortable. You were also strangely jumpy - every time Jeonghan so much as passed by you or his hand accidentally brushed any part of your skin, you would react like you were touched by a few hundred volts of electricity. The worst thing of them all was having to sit next to him during lunch - sure it was easier when you didn’t have to look at him eye to eye but the soft kisses on your cheek and forehead??? The wiping of food on the edge of your mouth??? The constant brushing of your hair away from your face?? It was all getting a little too unbearable. 
And it didn’t help that you were already incredibly wet from your little escapade earlier, your panties sticking to you uncomfortable throughout all of this, only getting wetter if that were even possible.
Jeonghan seemed to have finally noticed your situation way too late in the day. 
After lunch your mom took over the entertainment, showing Jeonghan pictures of you as a kid, telling him all your embarrassing stories. Soon, the sun set outside and usually, your mother, who liked to leave before it was too dark, insisted she wanted to have dinner with her daughter’s boyfriend. That was how the three of you found yourself in your usual bbq place with Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, all looking at you, wide eyed. 
Perhaps it was the many hours that she spent with Jeonghan today or watching him interact with your three best friends so casually or looking at him play with the cats in the neighborhood, by the time your tipsy mother made it back to your apartment, she could not stop gushing about how Jeonghan was the best thing that ever happened to you. The praises only stopped when she finally resorted to the bathroom for a long, hot shower, leaving you standing and looking out of the balcony, finally alone, finally at peace. 
That didn’t last for long as Jeonghan stood beside you, trying to figure out what you were so intently staring at. 
“Gotta give it to you.” You scoffed. “I was worried my mom would doubt us but you’re a natural.” 
“It helped that it was you.” 
Confused, you turned to him. 
“I mean, the little demonstration of what you pretend to like and what you really like kinda helped.” He smirked.
Knowing he was trying to put you on the spot again, you looked away, “You think you know everything….” 
“I do. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been incredibly turned on since our little make out session?” You froze, unable to take your eyes off the empty street. “I could smell the arousal on you all day princess and quite frankly, it’s been driving me crazy.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumbled, trying to leave only to be pulled back as Jeonghan trapped you between him and the railing before you. 
His fingers ran down your arm slowly, “Are you telling me if I were to slip my hand between your legs, I won’t find you soaking wet?” 
“Jeonghan please.” You whispered. “Y-you can’t say such things-” 
“You could admit it….or I could check for myself.” 
It was like the words were stuck in your throat, the shame not letting you say anything. To begin with it was already embarrassing enough to come to terms with the fact that you were immensely attracted to this man, you have been since you laid eyes on him, but to admit that he had you desperate for him all day and wanted him in any and all ways possible? That was entirely a whole other level of mortification. 
Jeonghan let out a breath, muttering in your ear. “I can’t help you if you won’t ask me to.” 
You gulped. “So begging really gets you off huh?” 
“Yes, but you don’t need to.” He smiled, his fingers running across the elastic of your bottoms. “You just need to say the word. Say you want this. Say you want me.”
When you didn’t respond to him despite a whole minute passing by, he let out a deep breath, stepping back with an understanding nod. Given how just that minimal distance between the two of you made your stomach drop, you finally cracked, holding him by the hand, pulling him back to press against your back. Holding your breath you dragged his hand, guiding it once again along the elastic of your pants. 
You couldn’t see but Jeonghan looked at you concerned. “Here?” 
“If you don’t touch me right now I might just cry.” You muttered, thankful you couldn’t see what you assumed would be a triumphant expression, pushing his hand further down, past the hem of your underwear. “Please Jeonghan.” 
Two very long and frustrating heartbeats later, he finally angled his hand, moving further down.
“Fuck.” He groaned as his digits met the slick between your folds. “Were you this soaked all day?” 
You nodded, whispering. “Been aching…...” 
“Trust me, not more than I have.” He moved closer to you, pressing against your back, his erection confirming his words. The thought of potentially feeling that inside you made your mouth practically water, as you pressed your legs closer, squeezing his hand in between them. 
Jeonghan’s finger grazed over your clit, making you keen and hold onto the railing for dear life. 
“Please.” That was all you could say with the way his fingers were teasing your entrance. “Please, please, please-” 
Jeonghan covered your mouth with his free hand, pulling you back against his chest, whispering gruffly. “Save the begging for next time y/n.” 
Next time? 
You gulped, body taut with anticipation, mind still reeling over his words as Jeonghan finally pushed in not one but two fingers at the same time, his thumb grazing over your clit simultaneously, your hand reflexively gripping his wrist. Maybe because you’ve been silently thirsting over this man for almost a week now, or because you have been inexplicably horny all day, or because you just realised that the two of you were quite literally doing this out in the open where anyone could catch you in the act but the moment Jeonghan’s fingers pushed all the way in and he pressed on your clit, your walls clamped around his digits, back arching against him, your moan held back by his hand against your mouth. As your orgasm washed over you in waves, you panted against him, trying to catch your breath, the stars in the night sky suddenly swarming in front of your eyes. 
“Did…” For the first time ever, Jeonghan stuttered, like he was confused. “Did you just cum?” 
Your arousal dripped down his fingers, giving him his answer. 
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He groaned. “or felt, rather.” 
As the pleasurable feeling began to ebb and the embarrassment took over, you tried to pry yourself away from his grip only for him to hold you more firmly, further pushing his fingers in. Overstimulated, your protests came out muffled against his hand, as you unwittingly clamped around him again. 
“Don’t.” He warned, head dipping to the crook of your neck, sighing. “God, you’d feel like heaven around me.” You smiled slightly at his words, just a little proud, making him chuckle. “You like the thought of that, don’t you?” 
Given your new found bravado, you slowly nodded and Jeonghan pulled himself back with resolve. “It’s not very gentlemanly to fuck a woman after making her come just once.” Finally taking his hand off your mouth and sadly also pulling his fingers out you, he turned you around swiftly, pushing you up against the wall behind him. “Give me another one.” He muttered against your ear. 
Although the post orgasm haze and more importantly, the post horny haze was receding and you were suddenly hyper aware that you were out in the open, Jeonghan’s deep voice, as he peppered kisses along your shoulder, “Come on, be good for me.”, made your decision.
 Oh you could be so good for him. 
Threading your fingers in his hair, you pressed yourself up against him, nodding almost too eagerly. Smiling against your skin, Jeonghan slipped his hand between your bodies, sliding his fingers past all the layers of cloth keeping you away from him. You sighed like you were drowning in ecstasy as his fingers found your hole again, wasting no time to push his fingers in, curling almost instantly. When you gasped at the feeling of him grazing that spot, Jeonghan covered your mouth with his free hand once again, pressing you against the wall. 
“Not here.” He warned but his actions seemed to be trying to do the exact opposite, fingers pumping in and out of you fast, your eyes almost rolling back in pleasure. “After this we are going inside and you’re gonna choose where you want to get railed and there, you can scream all you want.” 
You whined, both at the idea of him taking you on nearly every surface of your house and feeling everything inside you tighten once again. Jeonghan’s thumb began circling on your clit once again, making you squirm, knees almost buckling as you gripped his arm hard to steady yourself.
You could hear the sound of a plane flying high above, the beeping of a reversing car from somewhere below, the chatter from your neighbour’s television - somehow all of it exhilarated you. The thought of getting caught with Jeonghan knuckles deep inside you was weirdly, insanely hot…. until you heard the next sound - the bathroom door opening. 
Quickly pulling Jeonghan’s hand from your mouth and pushing him back much to his surprise, you harshly whispered. “My mom!” 
Jeonghan immediately pulled his hand away, giving you just enough time to adjust your pants and smoothen the crinkles on your clothes before your mother walked into the balcony looking for the two of you. 
Yet again, you were both smiling at her, abnormally and unnaturally wide. She frowned but overlooked it, announcing her decision instead. “I’ll need an extra pillow for my back, I’m staying the night.” 
Jeonghan and you exchanged looks at the unexpected news as the older woman narrowed her eyes at the two of you. “Is there a problem?” 
“No….” You tore your eyes away from Jeonghan. “I was just trying to remember where the extra bedding is….” 
“It’s at the bottom of your closet.” He muttered. “I’ll grab it.” 
Jeonghan walked out of there quickly, not meeting your mother’s eyes as she leaned against the railing, looking out, saying something about how it was going to rain like crazy tonight. 
You watched him disappear into the house and were about to turn your attention to your mother when he took a step back, catching your eye. As you raised your eyebrows in question, Jeonghan slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, yeah the two that were inside you moments ago, pulling them out with a pop. Laughing at your mortified expression, he walked away, leaving you with your heartbeat ringing in your ears. 
Tonight was far from over. 
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Day 8 of 10 
Much to your disappointment, nothing else happened last night. 
Excusing yourself from your mother, the first thing you did was to shower, hoping you’d feel somewhat less filthy after your escapade in the balcony. Surprisingly, more than feeling scandalized about the madness you had indulged in, you found yourself disappointed that you didn’t get the chance to cum on Jeonghan’s fingers again. Part of you wanted to finish off in the shower by yourself but you knew after Jeonghan, there was no way you could feel the same kind of high in your own - it was him or nothing. 
By the time you had stepped out, Jeonghan had pillows and blankets piled up next to him on the couch and from the room, your mother called out to you. Shooting him a disappointed look which he returned, you retired to your room, sleeping next to her on your bed after a whole damn week. 
That was perhaps why you woke up when it was way past 11 in the morning, body well rested after so long. When you stretched, walking out of your room, you could hear Jeonghan and your mother talking over the sound of what you guessed was them making breakfast. 
“....that experience isolated my poor child.” You frowned hearing your mother’s voice. “After that she quit fashion school, moved away from everything she considered her world till that point-” 
“Mom!” Walking over quickly, you interrupted the conversation. “What are you doing?” 
“Making breakfast.” She shrugged as Jeonghan walked up to you, placing a soft kiss on your temple, rubbing your arm like he sensed you were angry. “And telling Han about that shithead Bohyun-” 
“Mom.” You spoke between gritted teeth. “There’s no need to talk about him early in the morning-” 
“It’s half past 11-” 
“Mom!” Looking at her exasperatedly, you crossed your arms. “Don’t you have to give grandma her medicines, what are you still doing here?” 
“Would you look at that Han?” She looked at Jeonghan, shaking her head. “She’s throwing her own mother out of the house.” 
“What? I’m not-” 
“The disrespect I tell you.” She continued, ignoring you. “When all I wish is the best for her. I told her. I told her back then not to date that boy. If she had listened to me things wouldn’t have been like this-” 
“Okay, that’s it, I’m done here.” Giving up, you turned away, heading to your studio and locked yourself in. You would now do what you always did every time your dreaded ex came across your mind - throw yourself into your work and forget the rest of the world.
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In a way, you had to thank your mother for reminding you about that man and consequently pushing you towards your work cause god were you way behind schedule. You knew you were falling behind but you didn’t know it was this bad until you noticed all your deadlines menacingly staring at you from your calendar. Without wasting time, you got back into the mechanical pursuit of your job, the way you usually did when you had a surmount of orders. You only ever stepped out twice, once for lunch and once for dinner, settling for the food your mother had made for you, scarfing it down within minutes before returning to your designs. 
It was only when your shoulders began to miserably ache way past your bedtime that you dragged yourself to the living and found Jeonghan sitting in front of the tv. Surprisingly, you had forgotten all about him in the last many hours, a strange guilt rising in your chest as you sat beside him. Jeonghan did not turn to you as you approached. 
“Are you…” You laughed at the screen. “Are you watching Princess and the Frog?” 
He nodded.
“As a child, I never understood this movie.” You leaned back into the couch. “I always thought the prince was supposed to save the princess. Instead he turned out to be a playboy and dragged her through his miserable fate too.” 
Jeonghan hummed in response. 
“I can’t remember the last time I watched this.” You fiddled with your hands, trying to make conversation. “Seungkwan hates this movie so he never lets us watch during movie nights too.” 
Jeonghan simply hummed again. 
Sighing, you turned to him. “Are you….angry or something?” 
“I’m not angry, just thinking.” 
“About what?” 
“The things your mother told me about you and your past.” Jeonghan let out a deep breath, contemplating for a bit before finally talking. “I don’t understand when people forget themselves in a relationship. It makes no sense to lose yourself in love.” 
“That’s because you’ve never been in love.” You watched the screen as the two animated frogs ran through the forest. “That’s just how it is.” 
“If that’s love then I don’t ever want to be in it.” 
“Yeah well that’s the part that sucks.” You scoffed. “You don’t really get to choose. Love just happens.” 
Jeonghan finally turned to you. “You read too many fairy tales, princess.” 
Smiling at the familiar nickname, you leaned back into the couch. “I did, as a child. I grew up in a world of fairy tales. That’s where I met Bohyun, my ex.” 
Now Jeonghan had all his attention on you. 
“We were re-enacting Sleeping Beauty for a school play - I was Aurora and he was Prince Philip. He was my first kiss, my first love, my first of many things to be honest. We lived in the same neighbourhood, went to the same schools, had the same friends… I even enrolled into fashion school because he wanted to study fashion and I wanted to be with him.” You sighed looking at Jeonghan’s expression. “Yeah I can tell you don’t like that. Honestly, that wasn’t the worst decision I made. I actually really grew to love fashion designing, I can’t imagine myself doing anything else. It’s all the stuff after that I failed to see. Rather, I did see it all but…. I guess I was too much of a coward to do anything about it.” 
Jeonghan waited quietly for you to continue. 
“It started with him disappearing for long hours, then it became days together. On some days he would give explanations and on some days he would in turn scold me for not trusting him? All this went on till the last semester of fashion school when as my mother would have told you, I….found him cheating on me.” 
Jeonghan looked like he expected that outcome. 
“The crazier thing was, I actually begged him to leave her and come back to me. It took a while but he eventually did and I thought everything was back to normal again but something had changed. I refused to see it but he became strangely controlling. He would want to have a say in who my friends were, he didn’t like me hanging out with people he didn't get along with, he became more demanding about….” You gulped, voice dropping a little. “...sex. It was like he knew how much I needed him, like….” 
“He knew you didn’t know how to say no.” Jeonghan completed for you, and you nodded. 
“But then he cheated again, and came back again and then cheated yet again and I took him back again and it just kept going on and on until…. one day he asked me for a lot of money, to help kick start his new business.” You sighed. “Do you remember that dream space I told you about? It was originally my grandmother’s old kimbap shop, one that she gifted me, so I could open my own boutique there one day. I uh sold it, to get him the money he wanted and….he used it to buy his other girlfriend a house.” 
Jeonghan’s jaw tightened like he was mad. 
“After that blow, I quit school and moved away from that neighbourhood to this place, my grandmother’s apartment. Everyone thought I was done with him and was trying to move on but…. I was honestly running away. Because I knew if he came back….”
“You still wouldn’t be able to say no.” 
You nodded. “I am pathetic, aren’t I?” 
“Yeah, a little.” Jeonghan scoffed. “I don’t understand love, and I’ve never been in it, but one would have to be a fool to not be in love with you.” 
You looked at Jeonghan, slightly taken aback. 
“The world is harsh and cold and selfish Y/n. No one thinks about anything beyond themselves. And there’s you, putting the person you love above everything. It’s both pathetic and noble.” Jeonghan turned off the movie as the credits began rolling. “But you cannot put your self respect on the line for assholes like him, you deserve much better than that.” 
“I know.” You sighed. “I wish I knew how to.” 
“By speaking your mind.” Jeonghan stated like it was obvious. “By refusing the things you don’t want. By asking for the things you do want. By talking about how you feel…. Not just when you’re drunk but also in all your senses.” 
Recalling that drunk night in the bathroom you laughed softly. He wasn’t wrong. Things between the two of you had changed drastically since that conversation. A strange gratitude swelled in your heart towards Jeonghan and how though he had been with you for barely a week, he had understood you better than anyone had. Turning him to you, you placed a soft kiss on his mouth, muttering a heartfelt “Thank you.” 
Jeonghan, though, rolled his eyes. “Y/n, I’m not even kidding, my grandmother kisses me like this.” 
You laughed as he reached for you, attempting to pull you into his lap yet again but you beat him to it, clambering in yourself, tucking your hair behind your ear. 
Jeonghan smiled at the sight of you above him. “Hey.” 
“Hi.” 
“Is there something you want?” 
“Yes.” You whispered, taking his face in your hands and kissing him again, this time, slipping your tongue in his mouth. Jeonghan’s lips curled into a smile as he pressed back, breaking free only to softly bite on your lower lip. Sighing dreamily, you rocked your hips against his, guided by his hands. You softly mumbled, holding back a moan. “We didn’t get to finish…. whatever we were doing last night.” 
“And what was that?” 
“.....you know what.” 
“Use your words princess,” His voice went low and gruff, sending a tingle across your groin. “You were far from shy with my fingers inside you.” 
“Don’t….” 
Jeonghan’s hands sneaked under your shirt, more than pleased to not find the hooks of a bra. “Bedroom.”
You shook your head slowly, muttering. “Too far.” 
Chuckling Jeonghan leaned back. “You want me to take you right here?” 
“You said I could choose next time….” 
“I also asked you to beg next time.” He whispered, tongue running over his lower lip, hands dragging you hips along his length. “So tell me you want me to fuck you with my fingers again.” 
“Please.” You gasped. “Just fuck me…  with anything.” 
“Anything…” He repeated amused, before pulling your shirt over your head. No sooner did the material leave you, his mouth descended on your boob, pulling you in, towards him. Threading your fingers in his hair you gripped it as a moan slipped out of you - never in your life had you ever been this obscene but something about doing it with Jeonghan felt like this was the big catharsis of your life, waiting to happen. 
With a swift movement he flipped you onto your back, laying you on the couch, hovering over you. Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his shirt, fingers moving nimbly, thank god for fashion school. Jeonghan laughed as you attempted to push the fabric off his shoulders, holding your hands by the wrists, pinning it to your chest. 
“Eager aren't we?” He looked at you in a way that could only be described as mocking. “If only you were honest with me from the start we could have been doing this for so long.” 
“I'm sorry-” 
“Shhh.” Head raised, you watched him drag his mouth down your chest, inching closer to your abdomen. “I hate apologies. You either own it or fix it.” 
“How can I fix it?” 
“By telling me what you really want.” Pulling your shorts off your legs, he hovered right above where you were aching once again. 
“I…I don’t know.” Falling back onto the couch, you stared at the ceiling. “I really don't. I just know that I’ve been weirdly winded and uneasy for a long time and it feels like you’re the only one who can help- oh my god.” 
Your eyes widened as you raised yourself on your elbows to see Jeonghan right between your legs, his mouth pressed onto your panties right there. 
“Like this?” He grinned before peppering small kisses on the inside of your thigh. 
When words refused to leave your dried up throat, you nodded slowly, not looking at him. Leaving your hands Jeonghan hooked his fingers on the elastic of your underwear, “Up.” and pulled it down your raised hips. As it joined the rest of your clothes somewhere on the floor, suddenly you were hyper aware of the fact that you were completely bare while Jeonghan was still almost entirely clothed. Reflexively, your legs tried to squeeze shut, but Jeonghan’s hands stopped them, pulling them over his shoulders instead. 
“I wish you could see yourself from my eyes Y/n.” He looked at you, eyes darkened in desire. You probably looked like a flushed, panting mess, completely missing the admiration etched on Jeonghan’s face. 
Aware of Jeonghan and his ability to tease and especially his affinity for begging, you opened your mouth to do just the same but what left it was an unholy moan as Jeonghan descended upon you like he was ravenous. As though just his mouth on your clit wasn’t making you lose your mind, his digits too slipped in, pumping slowly. He must’ve liked it when your fingers automatically threaded into his hair because his groan reverberated against your core making your back arch off the couch in pleasure. 
Oral was completely new territory - you had never gotten or given it, god knows why considering this was clearly the best thing that has ever happened to you. As discussed yesterday, you let every sound leave your mouth freely, unbothered about the neighbours or people living around. Frankly it could be the end of the world and you wouldn’t care, not with what Jeonghan’s tongue was doing inside you. He too seemed to enjoy your audible reactions and the way it told him just how you liked it, his fingers and mouth taking turns to manhandle you. 
“Jeonghan fu-fuck, right there.” You nearly sobbed as his fingers found your sweet spot, the one that made your toes quite literally curl. 
“Don’t cum Y/n, I don’t want to be done just yet.” 
Well then he should have behaved like it because seconds after he said that you felt that tightening coil in you snap as you embarrassingly loudly, came on his tongue, riding it out against his mouth. Licking his lips Jeonghan pulled himself away from your legs, hovering above you once more, kissing you again. The taste of you in his mouth felt sinful but you let yourself be carried away by it as his hand ran up your thigh seductively before grabbing your more petite hand, placing it right where he was rock hard. As your mouth practically watered at how long and heavy he felt in your hands, Jeonghan buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving little bite marks of red. 
“I thought gentlemen didn’t make a woman cum just once.” You muttered, gripping his erection the best you could in that angle and over his sweats. 
Jeonghan hissed, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you didn’t want anything gentle?” 
“I….I don’t.” You confessed out loud for the first time. “Do whatever you want, I can take it.” 
Jeonghan raised his eyebrows both pleased and impressed as his fingers toyed with the slick dripping between your folds. Eyes shut tight, you waited to feel him ravage you once again instead, you were met with the sound of a loud knock on your door. 
Both Jeonghan and you looked at each other wondering if that was just imagination till another knock pulled you to your senses. 
“Please don’t tell me that’s your mother again.” Jeonghan quickly sat up, hands moving to button himself up. 
“I hope not.” You got off the couch hurriedly, grabbed your clothes from the floor and quickly threw them on, smoothing out your hair. Jeonghan walked up to the door, waiting with his hand on the handle for you to look decent as you and your wobbly self tried to keep it together. The moment you pulled your shirt over your head and adjusted your shorts, Jeonghan opened the door and your heart dropped to your stomach. 
Standing at the entrance was a young woman dressed in an unbelievably tight black dress, her hair held up by a high ponytail as she blew her baby pink bubblegum. She looked up from her phone at you then at the door number as though she was confirming if she was in the right place. You knew exactly why she was here and for whom. 
Unable to comprehend how exactly to react in this situation, you grabbed your jacket from the stand and walked past Jeonghan, harshly pulling away from his attempt to hold you back. Not even glancing back, you disappeared into the night doing what you did best - running away. 
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“Y/n.” 
When you opened your eyes you were met with the sight of Jeonghan’s face high above, upside down. 
“Oh my god.” You gasped slowly. “Your mouth is on your forehead and your eyes are on your chin.”
“And you’re clearly drunk. Again.” He walked around, lying down on the grass beside you. “Which means it's time for both stupidity and honesty.” 
You turned your head towards him. “Did you just call me stupid?” 
Jeonghan mirrored you. “I also called you honest.” 
“Hmm. Then I'll be honest. I don't want to talk to you.” 
“Do you want me to go then?” 
“No.” You sighed. “I don't want you to go… to her.” 
“She's gone. I sent her away the moment you left.”
“Why did it take you so long to come to me then?” You pouted as Jeonghan laughed. 
“I thought you'd be at the restaurant. I didn't expect to find you lying in the middle of the football field.” 
In all fairness, that was a valid point - you didn't want to face the boys right now so you purchased a few bottles of soju from the supermarket which were now lying empty around you. 
“Why did she come?”
“I didn’t call anyone today.” He sighed. “It’s just, the instruction was for a new one to come every night. They came the last two nights too, I sent them away, just like I did today.”
“Why?” 
“Because…. Because we,” Jeonghan cleared his throat. “I mean you and I-” 
“Why do you need a new girl every night?” 
“I'm not sure.” Jeonghan turned away, staring at the stars. “I guess I'm just…  looking for a human connection with someone.” 
“Like that?” You scoffed. “By sleeping with someone new everyday?” 
“I don’t know Y/n, I don't even know how what I’m searching for feels. Perhaps I’m just looking for someone who makes me feel….. Normal? Like I’m worthy of being cared for.” 
“Did you manage to find anyone…. who makes you feel like that?” 
Jeonghan turned to you with a small smile, eyes roaming over your features. “Yes but ironically, not by sleeping with them.” 
You hummed, pausing for a silent minute. 
“Did you never want to try and find that with me?” Eyes big and curious you turned to him. “Did you never want to sleep with me?” 
“I did. From the moment I laid my eyes on you.” Jeonghan recalled the first ever words he said to you. I love you. Maybe he didn't just say it out of relief. Maybe a part of him subconsciously knew this was it. You were it. “But you quite literally kept running away from me. Hell, you couldn't even say the word ‘sex'-”
“I want to have sex with you.” You sat up in a flash. “Jeonghan I really do want to have sex with you-” 
“You're drunk.” Jeonghan chuckled. “Sober you may not want the same thing-” 
“It does. Every me wants this. Jeonghan-” To his complete surprise, you climbed onto him, straddling him around the waist, palms planted on his chest. “-I'm serious. Didn't you say I was honest when I'm drunk?” 
“I also said you were stupid when drunk.” He tucked your hair behind your ear fondly. “It won’t be right to do anything now.” 
“Fine. I’ll be sober by the morning and ask you first thing when I wake up, do you promise to fuck me right here?” 
“Out here? Ok that’s a bit much even for me.” Jeonghan laughed. “You’re a lot wilder than I anticipated, princess.” 
“Ugh.” You groaned, lying down on his chest, eyes fluttering shut from the tiredness. “I think you bring out the worst in me.” 
“But somehow you bring out the best in me.” Jeonghan stroked your head softly. “I can't remember the last time I felt this free and happy. Strangely, I think I've grown to like this little domestic life with you. The cooking, the shopping, the grandmas, the kids, your mom…..does it all have to end in 2 days?” 
When he didn’t get a response, Jeonghan glanced down only to find you fast asleep, mouth slightly open. Laughing silently he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close against his chest as he too dozed off into a peaceful slumber.  
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Day 9 of 10 
You woke up to the feeling of harsh sunlight on your face which was not unusual given you always slept next to the window. What was unusual was waking up in the middle of the football field wrapped in Jeonghan's arms.
You're fully awake in the blink of an eye, mortified by the thought of people having seen the two of you, although no one seemed to be around as far as the eye could see.
“Good morning princess.” Jeonghan yawned, slowly waking up, his arms loosening around you. Taking the chance you slid off him, mumbling a small “morning.” in reply.
Jeonghan snickered, glancing at you. “Someone's definitely sober.” 
“We should go….before someone sees us.” 
As you looked around trying to spot any unwelcome viewers, Jeonghan raised himself on his elbow, looking down at you. 
“Last night you didn't seem to care.” 
“Jeonghan….” His finger traced down your arm seductively. “Please let's go home.” 
Reading into your urgency, Jeonghan nodded, pulling you up to your feet. As the two of you walked away, his hand was still interlocked in yours. 
The streets near your house somehow looked more alive today. Suddenly everyone you knew was out on the street, waving you hi, wishing you good morning, smiling slightly at the sight of the two of you walking hand in hand. Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, who normally only turned up in the evening for their shift after classes, were also standing outside the restaurant, looking at the two of you quizzically. As Jeonghan spotted them he let your hand go, greeting them with a nod before glancing at the convenience store. 
“I’m gonna grab breakfast.” He stepped back. “We’re going to need our energy for what’s coming.”
As he walked off with a wink and you tried to suppress your excited smile, the boys jogged up to you, gathering around. 
“Did I just see you two hold hands?” Soonyoung poked your arm with a smirk. 
“Soonyoung later.” Seungkwan shut him up. “Y/n, you have Jeonghan’s phone right?” 
“H-his phone?” You shook your head. “Not right now. It’s in the drawer of the tv cabinet…. I think?” 
“Well we gotta message that guy, assistant 1, remind him to keep the money ready.” 
You blinked like all the words he said just went over your head. 
Seungkwan looked at you pointedly, “Tomorrow is the tenth day Y/n, remember what we’re doing all this for?” 
“Are you okay?” Seokmin glanced at you lost in thought. 
No, no you did not think you were okay. 
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“No.” 
That was the first word that left you the moment you entered your house and Jeonghan closed the door behind you. 
“I mean, you were right. Sober me doesn’t want the same thing.” 
Jeonghan looked at you trying not to show the surprise and confusion on his face. You, on the other hand, finally had clarity - this was Jeonghan. Mafia boss Yoon Jeonghan. The man who was on the run from the cops, the man who you were in fact holding for a ransom, the man who will be gone in a day. This wasn’t you - sleeping with a man because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You had no idea why you were behaving like this. 
“Jeonghan, I'm a relationship kind of girl. I can’t sleep with someone who…. Who isn’t a permanent part of my life. Who’s just…. in it for one night.” 
“What?” 
“Jeonghan you’re the kind who needs a new woman every night and I’m not interested in being a part of that long list-”
“Did you not hear a word I said last night?” 
“You told me to learn how to say no.” You raised your hands. “I’ve learnt it and this is me saying no. “ You let out a deep, determined breath. “I don’t want this.” 
Jeonghan stared at you for a minute before his eyes fell to the floor. 
“If that’s what you want.” 
And with that he walked past you, finishing everything just as easily as it started. 
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Strangely, the rest of the day, Jeonghan didn’t behave any differently than he usually did. You expected him to be mad or at least upset but quite frankly, he seemed unbothered. You did notice though that he ordered his own food for lunch and seemed particularly cautious about how he was around you in your personal space. Gone was the Jeonghan who liked to lean in to say the simplest of things. 
His lack of botheration though, particularly bothered you. From the things he had said and the way he had behaved, it seemed like he wanted you as much as you wanted him so how was it so easy for him to put so much distance between the two of you when it was excruciatingly painful for you to stay even a foot away from him? How was he able to be so calm and casual, like you didn’t just completely cast him aside? How did it not matter to him that you didn’t want him to be a part of your life? 
It was because of all this consistent overthinking that you could only manage to keep yourself away from Jeonghan for about five hours, till around sunset. Finding a pack of condoms in the bag of food he brought from the supermarket was probably what finally set you off. 
“What is wrong with you?” You threw the pack onto the couch beside him.
Jeonghan glanced at the pack, then at you. “Based on last night’s conversation, I assumed certain things about today, so I thought that was a sensible purchase.” 
“Exactly, why aren’t you more upset?” You crossed your arms. “I told you I wanted to last night, you even prepared for it, then in the very last second, I said no-” 
“That’s exactly why I’m not upset.” Sighing, Jeonghan stood. “Y/n, I’m glad you said no. I’m happy you learnt to say it. I couldn't care less that I’m the first victim of this newfound voice, I’m just happy you found it.” 
You blinked at him.
“I know you’re thinking about the future and that’s fair. I don’t know how long I can be here or if I will be forced to be on the run again, or what really is in store for me but I’m just happy that even if I’m not there, you will be able to respect yourself the way I do. That you won’t compromise with what you want for what others want from you-” 
Strangely overwhelmed, you pulled him by his shirt and claimed his breath with a kiss. Almost instantly, Jeonghan kissed you back, hands gripping your waist, mouth ravenously capturing yours like the five hours you were apart were unbearable for him too. 
“Wait.” He pulled back when the loss of breath somehow brought him back to his senses. “Y/n what-” 
“Fuck me Jeonghan.” 
“Didn’t you say-” 
“I take it back.” 
“Y/n.” Jeonghan pulled away, holding you at an arm's distance. “Don’t do things you’ll regret.” 
“But I want this.” You kissed him again, muttering against his mouth. “I want you.” 
Jeonghan clearly, if anything, was a man. The moment you whispered a soft please, grinding your hip against his, he smashed his lips onto yours again, refusing to break away even though the two of you could barely find footing as you stumbled to your room. He only parted when the back of his knees hit your bed, forcing him to sit down and he looked up at you between the tresses falling into his eyes. You pushed it back, running the back of your hand along his cheek. 
“I wish the world looked at me the way you do.” 
“If anyone else looked at you this way,” Jeonghan raised his eyebrows. “I’m afraid it's going to be the last thing they ever look at.” 
You laughed rolling your eyes. “A little admiration isn’t a crime.” 
“If admiration is what you want, then I shall bend the will of every man in the city into doing so.” He smirked, attempting to bite your fingers lingering by his lips. “Let me properly show you mine first.” 
As he tugged on your shirt you obediently pulled it over your head as he stripped out of his own. It wasn’t the first time the two of you were seeing each other shirtless but there was a strange charged energy rippling between you now, one that was almost impossible to ignore. As you bent down to kiss him again, his hands found the hooks of your bra, unclasping them as you quickly dragged it down your arms, tossing it somewhere. His hand ran up the insides of your thigh, a jolt running through you when his fingers grazed over your clit. As you gasped, he took the chance to pull you closer by the leg, running his mouth below your belly button. 
“Jeonghan, haven’t we had enough foreplay?” You sighed, throwing your head back as he marked your skin, slowly pulling both your shorts and underwear in one go. “We’ve been doing this for days, let’s just get to it please.” 
“To what?” Feigning innocence he smirked, running his tongue along his teeth. 
“Fucking.” You pushed him back into the bed. “Fuck me Jeonghan. Properly. Your dick inside me kinds.”
Jeonghan raised himself on his elbows, laughing. “Look at you, using your big girl words.” 
Kicking off the rest of your clothes, you attempted to straddle him when he pulled you into the mattress and in a flash, you were lying on the bed and he was towering over you instead. Sticking his hand in his pocket, he pulled out a condom and threw it at you. 
“Open it.” 
Holding the wrapper between your teeth, you ripped it open as fast as you could, earning a tutting noise from Jeonghan. 
“Y/n, you could make a hole like that.” 
You stared at him blankly, like you were supposed to understand what he was saying when he was standing there with his pants discarded, stroking himself. Your mouth was in a strange combination of being dry but also somehow almost drooling. Almost the same way you wanted him both in your mouth and rearranging your organs down under, all at once. Jeonghan chuckled at your inability to function as he gently grabbed the latex from you and rolled it over his length. You shouldn’t have expressed so much eagerness to have him fuck you - you could’ve felt every vein and ridge you were seeing in your mouth first but that thought dissipated the moment Jeonghan hovered over you, grabbing you by the jaw. Almost reflexively, your mouth opened for him, allowing him to slide his thumb in as you earnestly sucked it, hoping his smirk would turn into the hunger to feel your lips around him. As much as Jeonghan did tell you to ask for what you want, you had a feeling if you told him just how desperate you were to have him fuck your mouth, he would never let you live it down. 
“I know what you want.” Jeonghan spoke under his breath as his hand trailed down your body, slipping between your legs. “But I want this a lot more. Is that okay?” 
Okay? You nodded immediately - it was absolutely okay. You just wanted to be full of him one way or another. Jeonghan shook his head.
“Words baby.” He slid his thumb in, almost embarrassingly easily, as he stared at his finger disappear inside you. “Although this is telltale, we will do whatever you want.” He leaned over, pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll give you whatever you want.” 
“You.” You breathed out, “However, wherever-” 
And the words died on your tongue when he swiftly pulled his finger out and immediately entered you, gently pushing in till he bottomed out. Chest heaving, you could feel yourself panting as your body tried to adjust to his girth. Jeonghan groaned into your ear as your walls fluttered around him, still getting accustomed to the stretch. 
“I knew you’d feel good.” 
“Y-yeah?”
“You feel fucking perfect.” Jeonghan pulled back just a little, his hips setting a slow rhythm. “I could be in you forever.”
Before a proud smile could even fully form on your face, Jeonghan picked up the pace, making your lips part with a moan. 
“I….Oh god.” You whined, trying to find your words in between his continuous strokes. “I….. didn’t think you were a missionary kind of guy.” 
Jeonghan chuckled as he ran his hand down your leg and pulled your knee up so he could grip your thigh. “I want to see you cum.” Sighing, he bit on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth. “I want to see how I make you feel.” 
“So fucking good.” You muttered against his mouth, finding your hips moving against his on their own accord. You wanted to make him feel good so you wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your nails down his back and wow did that work like a charm because Jeonghan’s rhythm instantly faltered, as did his grip on your thigh, surely bruising it. 
“Oh Y/n,” He slipped his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit when you groaned at the touch. “I can play the game too.” 
“Whatever you do, just- fuck.” You squirmed as Jeonghan seemed to have the perfect combination of thrusts and rubbing circles. “Just don’t stop.” 
“Never.” He groaned, continuing to make you fall apart as you felt your back arch off the mattress, toes curling in pleasure. Jeonghan latched his mouth on your bared neck, muttering, “Yes, yes cum for me.” 
And you did, finally, after days of desiring to be railed by this man, you came around him, body keening under his weight, eyes nearly rolling back. As you slowly panted back to reality, Jeonghan, who had long pulled out of you and rolled off you onto his side, was looking at you intently. Embarrassed that this was not the first but the second time he managed to break you in minutes, you covered your face with your hands, earning Jeonghan’s laugh. 
“Why are you hiding?” He tried to pry your hands away, only to fail. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look more pretty but fuck you looked so beautful when you came.” 
“Jeonghan please….”  
“Please what?” He chuckled, shifting beside you. “I’ve seen all there is to.”
You shook your head, choosing the darkness over meeting his eyes when suddenly, you felt him crawl between your legs and his mouth descend on you as he spread them apart. Considering how sensitive you were, your hands immediately flew to his head, eyes widening as he licked your arousal, looking at you victoriously. 
“I can’t….” You muttered and he pulled away, licking his lips, sitting back on his heels. Eyes running over his flushed face and body, you noticed the marks of your nail on his bicep, and also the fact that he was still hard as ever. 
“You didn’t finish.” You sat up, crossing your legs, only just realizing.
“I usually need a lot more than a few minutes to finish.” He pursed his lips but you knew he was trying to hold back a smile. A mocking one, at how easily you seemed to cum. 
“Then let’s go again.” You cocked your head. “…. On one condition.” 
“And what is that?” 
You let out a deep breath. “Take off your condom.” 
Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up. “You can’t be serious.” 
“Considering you sleep with a new woman every night, I’m guessing you always use protection.” 
“Always, that's an unsaid rule” 
“But I’m not them, so their rules can’t apply to me.” It was your turn to smirk. “We’ll see how long you last when you fuck me raw.” 
“Look at you, challenging me.” Jeonghan smiled like he was proud. “But it's not safe Y/n-” 
“What’s life without a little recklessness?” You rolled your eyes earning Jeonghan’s laugh. “Besides, that condom probably already has a hole from my teeth so-” 
“So I’ll grab another one.” 
“Yoon Jeonghan, if you leave this bed, this ends.” You crossed your arms. “Your choice.” 
“You’re not giving me much of a choice really.” 
“I know.” You grinned. “Now might also be a good time to add that though I might not be one of your regular nightly encounters, you should know that I heard you almost every night.” You let your voice go softer. “And I liked it….. A lot.” 
Finally, finally, Jeonghan’s expression darkened the way you wanted it to. “I suspected.” 
“And I’m confirming.” You shrugged. “And by the way, I also have an IUD so I’m not sure what you’re waiting for.” 
Jeonghan paused for a minute before he finally spoke. “On your knees.” 
You shook your head, extending your hand and pulling his condom off, tossing the latex in a nearby bin. “In my mouth.” 
“I don’t think so, princess.” Jeonghan not so gently pushed you back into the mattress, your back barely hitting it before he flipped you over and pulled you onto your knees. “I prefer blowjobs as a wake up call. This time of the night, I like to prove bratty girls wrong.” 
You laughed, looking over your shoulder. “But I want to see your face when I prove you wrong.” 
Knowing exactly what you wanted, Jeonnghan sighed before lying down on his back next to you, allowing you to move over and straddle him. 
“My bet is 9 minutes.” You ran your hand down his chest. “I don’t think you can last till double digits.” 
“We both know you won’t last even half of that Y/n-” He smirked. “-given your track record.” 
Deciding to prove him wrong with actions not words, you aligned his tip under you and sank down his length with a slow, deep moan. The stretch in this new angle felt different but it also let you take him further in, deeper than you had even imagined it was possible. 
Maybe Jeonghan was right about you breaking first. Given the way he made you feel so full, the way you felt every inch of his bare length in your insides, you knew it was only a matter of time. 
Or maybe not. Evidently, this was the first time Jeonghan was ever fucking someone raw. You could tell by the way he sounded with every drag of your walls against his dick - the struggling breathy moans that he was trying not to let out as you picked up the pace. 
You knew if you chose to grind your hips against his, it would help reach those spots in you a whole lot better, sending waves of pleasure through your body but you were determined to make Jeonghan cum first. That’s why you supported yourself with your palms on his chest, moving your hips up and down along his length and momentarily, Jeonghan gripped your waist tight, encouraging you to move just like that. At least until he realised he was getting too close to cumming and too close to losing. Changing strategy, he grabbed and squeezed your boobs instead, trying to ignore his own approaching high. When you responded with a whimper, satisfied, he dragged his hand down, bringing attention to your ignored clit. 
“That’s cheating.” You panted, throwing your head back, feeling the coil tighten in your stomach. 
Jeonghan snickered, shaking his head, refusing to stop his ministrations. If there was one thing he always took pride in, it was his ability to capitalize on every woman’s weakness - her clit. 
Though you were feeling your legs shake and your arms were struggling to hold your weight, you didn’t stop, ignoring your breaths which were getting fast and shallow. 
Jeonghan however, immediately picked up on it, reaching for your wrist and pulling you, making you fall over, onto him. 
“Hey,” He tried to get a good look at your face. “You okay?” 
“Tired.” You mumbled. “I’ve never been on top.” 
“Let me.” He whispered, dropping a kiss on your cheek as you nodded. 
Grabbing your ass with both his hands he raised it, guiding your movements and snapping his hips up at the same time. You on the other hand, let him have his way with you, busying yourself, alternating leaving marks all over his neck and shoulder and moaning sweetly into his ear. Both things seemed to rile him effectively as his pace became merciless and erratic, pounding into you the way you had only dreamed of for days. With a few more rough thrusts, you felt your walls tighten around him as the coil in you finally snapped and thanks to your tight constriction around his length, Jeonghan too came inside you, ropes of white filling you as he groaned in your ear. 
As the two of you slowly came down from your high, Jeonghan wrapped his arms around you, dropping a sweet kiss in your hair. You snuggled into his neck, ignoring the feeling of your mixed releases leaking out of you. 
“That was definitely more than 9 minutes.” Jeonghan pointed out. 
“I lasted more than half.” 
“So neither of us won?” Jeonghan hummed.
You pulled yourself up, looking at him. “Or maybe…. we need round three to decide.” 
“You read my mind.” He smirked, quickly flipping you onto your back, ignoring your shriek of surprise as he hovered over you. The night was still so so young.
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Day 10 of 10 
By the time you came around, the night had passed and the sun had begun to rise. No wonder it felt a whole lot warmer even though you were butt naked, covered by just a thin blanket thrown over you. It was the morning sun and also Jeonghan, who was comfortably snuggled in your arms, his breath soft against the crook of your neck. As you shifted from him just a little, trying to glance at his beautiful face, he pulled away, grumbling as he rolled onto his back, still fast asleep. Raising yourself on your elbow, you glanced at him. 
Last night was…..something. You never really admitted to yourself in the last few days that you had thought about sleeping with Jeonghan a few hundred times, but now you did and you also had to admit that it was nowhere how you thought it would have gone. Maybe rounds two, three, four and how many ever that followed did match up to that but somehow, it was round one that was playing in your mind. The unexpected softness from him, the way he was looking into your eyes….. It all felt a bit strange. Like it was something you would do. 
On the other hand, the wild person you expected Jeonghan to be, ended up coming out of you. The kinds of things you said? The kinds of things you did? It was so uncharacteristic yet….. It didn’t feel wrong. In fact, in a very long time, you were feeling strangely liberated. Like there was no fairytale ending written for you and surprisingly you didn’t mind that. 
But speaking of happy endings…..
You determinedly pulled away your blanket covering Jeonghan, glancing at how his boxers were on again. Maybe he put them on after you had promptly passed out last night, completely worn out and exhausted, just the way he seemed to have cleaned you up before tucking you in. Pulling your hair up into a bun, you got between his legs, pulling down the elastic of his underwear, taking his dick into your hands. Surprisingly, Jeonghan didn’t stir awake, or even move an inch so you promptly began stroking it, quickening your movements, especially when you slowly felt him harden under your touch. It was only when you spat in your hand and began to jerk him off more steadily that he finally came around, eyes slowly blinking open. 
“First thing in the morning?” He smiled sleepily. “You’re insatiable.” 
“Rise and shine.” You grinned. “Someone said something about a wake up call.” 
“I said I’d like your mouth.” He tucked his hand below his head looking at you with what you could only comprehend as a mix of lust and fondness. 
Smiling, you got down on your stomach, wrapping your mouth around his tip eliciting a shaky breath from him. You pulled back with a wet pop and the lick of the lips. “And it's all yours.” 
Jeonghan chuckled, whispering, “You’re going to be the end of me princess.” 
Little did he know.... you actually were. 
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The warm water on your skin was much needed after an unexpectedly long morning. Actually, it was very much expected considering the way you woke Jeonghan up. It was only natural that he would return the favor to the best of his abilities and that somehow spiraled from one thing to another, causing morning to turn into afternoon. Your stomach let out a low rumble, reminding you that you were hungry and that you should have put water to boil so you could make some ramyeon for lunch. You knew Jeonghan particularly enjoyed soggy noodles and it was also the quickest meal you could have given how much energy was exhausted in the last 12 or so hours.
As you stepped out of the shower, dried yourself and slipped into a comfortable pair of clothes, conspicuously leaving the top two buttons open, you found Jeonghan standing in the kitchen behind the stove. 
“You put the water to boil?” You smiled relieved. “Thank god-” 
“You kidnapped me?” Jeonghan turned to you, eyes flashing the pain of betrayal. In his hand was his phone, the one you had safely stashed in the drawer and on the screen was a message from his assistant. One that said the money in exchange for Jeonghan was ready. “All these days, you let me stay in your house because you were holding me for ransom?” 
“Jeonghan I know what it looks like and I can explain-” 
“All this for what? To buy your grandmother’s shop again?” 
“No….” You stepped up shaking your head. “I didn’t even know about the shop till you were with me. Jeonghan, I didn’t do this for money-” 
“I should have known when your mother said she had no brother.” Jeonghan shook his head like he couldn’t believe himself. “Keeping me here as a twisted revenge for your incarcerated uncle, why did I overlook how stupid that was?”
“Okay that was a lie, but I didn’t make it up.” You tried to hold his hand, but he pulled away hurtfully. “Jeonghan, it was the boys…. I just went with whatever they told me to do. Things just turned out this way, none of us planned for it to happen and…. I wasn’t going to go through with this plan anyways, I was going to call it off today-” 
“Why?” Jeonghan looked at you impassively. “What changed in 10 days?” 
You blinked at him, words lost. “I….. I got to know you. I saw who you could be if you distanced yourself from all that crime and lived a normal life. I always believe people deserve a second chance and I thought so do you. And we didn’t even get a first chance-” 
You turned at the sound of the doorbell before glancing at the clock. A part of you wanted to ignore it and clear the air with Jeonghan but when it rang urgently again, you sighed, turning to him. 
“I think it’s the boys, I’m sorry, just give me a second.” 
Rushing, you half ran over to the door quickly opening it, shaking your head. “Guys, things are a mess-” 
But it seemed like the bigger mess had in fact just arrived. Standing before you was the one person you did not want to see, especially now - Bohyun. 
“W-what are you doing here? And how did you even find me?” 
Uninvited, Bohyun stepped in walking past you. “Your mother….” He turned to you, clearing his throat. “I assumed when you left that you had gone overseas, to Paris maybe, your dream city. But your mother said she met you and your new boyfriend so I figured you were in town and considering how your grandmother moved in with your mom, I guessed that you would be here.” He looked at you painfully. “Is… Is it true? Do you actually have a boyfriend now?” 
“Bohyun….” You ran your fingers through your hair stressed. There was too much going on at once. Your past and your potential future were at crossroads you had never imagined. “I don’t know what to tell you-” 
“Maybe try telling the truth Y/n.” Jeonghan walked out of the kitchen, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Don’t you think it’s time?” 
“You….” Bohyun’s eyes widened as they fell on Jeonghan and he immediately stepped back, pulling you behind him. “You’re Yoon Jeonghan.” 
“Finally.” Jeonghan scoffed. “Someone knows.” 
“Y/n, I don’t know what this man has been telling you but he is a criminal.” Bohyun looked at you over his shoulder. “His posters are all over the city, he’s wanted by the cops-” 
“She knows.” Jeonghan's voice shook, just a little. “She knows exactly who I am and exactly what I’m worth.” 
“Jeonghan please-” 
“You know?” Bohyun turned to you, shocked. “You know who he is and you chose to be with him?” 
“Bohyun…. y-you have no idea what’s going on here.” 
“Oh I do.” He let out a breath like this was all ridiculous. “You’re so desperate for a man, that you would throw yourself at literally anyone-” 
And before he could ever complete that sentence, Jeonghan turned him by the shoulder and landed a hard punch straight at his jaw.
“Jeonghan!” 
As Bohyun stumbled, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, he snarled at the other man, throwing a punch on his own, straight in his midriff, making him buckle over. As the two men furiously threw hands, bruising and bleeding, you stood frozen, unable to watch them or stop them. Before you knew it though, within minutes, Jeonghan had Bohyun on his knees, the latter struggling to keep his eyes open, just one blow away from being knocked out. As Jeonghan raised his hand, you quickly put yourself between the two men. 
“Jeonghan no.” 
“Did you not hear the way he spoke about you?” He looked uncharacteristically furious, breathing hard. “How dare he-” 
“That’s between Bohyun and I. You shouldn’t have come in between.” 
Jeonghan lowered his hand, looking at you like he was jolted. Standing up staggering, Bohyun wiped the blood from his mouth, hissing.
“You heard her. Clearly, she picks me.” He smiled victoriously. “The only place you belong is in jail, you bastard, where the fuck is my phone-” 
“Y/n, after all he’s done to you, you’re really siding with him?” 
“Jeonghan, I think you should leave.” Your voice left you in a soft whisper as he looked at you unbelievably hurt. “Please just…. it’s best that you go.” 
Tearing his eyes away from you, Jeonghan let out a shaky breath before slowly nodding. “If that’s what you want.” 
And with that, without so much as sparing you a glance, he walked past you and out of your house as you watched him disappearing from your sight. When you finally let out the breath you were holding, Bohyun put his arm around your shoulder. 
“I knew you still loved me.” He rubbed your arm. “You and I were always meant to be, sweetheart.” 
Tongue in your cheek you sighed before removing Bohyun’s arm from around you. Turning to him, with everything you had in your being, you slapped him right across the face. Bohyun stumbled at the impact, looking shell shocked. 
“The only thing you and I are, is over.” You spat, the words bitter in your mouth. “How could you even think of coming back to me?” 
“Babe-” 
“Don't call me that.” You pushed him away. “You're right. I always did choose you. I always put you above me, but you? Forget loving me, you didn't have the minimum decency to respect me.”
“Y/n, I said sorry, I really am sorry.”
“Me too.” You stood your ground. “I’m sorry to myself. I'm sorry I gave you the chance to push me around like this. I'm sorry I didn't stand up for myself sooner. But I'm done now. I won't be making the same mistakes.”
“Y/n….” Bohyun held your arm softer than he ever had in the many years you were together. “I know I was wrong. The last few months without you weren't the same, I realised how bad I was to you and how much I need you please don't do this. Please come back…..what we had was so good-” 
“Good for you Bohyun, but not good enough for me.” You pulled your arm away. “I won't take you back this time, or ever. We're done for good.” 
Bohyun stared at the floor, coming to terms with your words.
“It's because of Yoon Jeonghan isn't it?” His voice turned into a nasty snarl. “You would choose a criminal over me-”
“You still don't get it, do you?” You looked at him with disbelief. “It's not him I choose, it's myself.” 
“But-” 
“I'm done explaining. I don't owe you anymore conversation, I didn't even owe you this.” You sighed, walking up to the door, holding it open. “Get out of my house.”
Bohyun tried to meet your eye as he slowly walked up to you while you refused to so much as look at him. When he realised you were not going to change your mind, he stepped out of the house and you closed the door behind him with a resounding slam. Holding your racing heart you leaned against it, unable to believe what you just did. 
Something in you felt free yet your heart was strangely heavy - you got rid of Bohyun but you lost Jeonghan in the process. Unwilling to give him up, you quickly grabbed your jacket and phone and rushed out of the house, calling your friends. Hopefully he hadn't gotten too far. 
You needed to see him again. You needed to tell him everything truthfully.
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As the night sky darkened, you walked into your apartment slowly, finding yourself alone in it after days.
You didn’t find Jeonghan anywhere. When you told the boys about all that happened, they were beyond understanding, immediately helping you look for him too. But alas, he was nowhere to be found. 
As you sank into the couch, heartbroken over how things ended between you two, Seungkwan's message popped on your phone screen. 
Y/n, I think you should see the news.
Panicking, you grabbed your remote and turned on the TV only to see your worst nightmare - Jeonghan being handcuffed and led away by the cops. 
“Mafia criminal and mastermind Yoon Jeonghan surrendered a few hours ago to the city police force after nearly 15 days of absconding. The precise reason for why he turned himself in and where he was all this while is unknown but the police are investigating the case. Yoon Jeonghan escaped prison on the 15th of August after tricking two security guards with a severe stomach ache and requesting for medical assistance…..” 
The rest of the words faded away as you watched the footage of Jeonghan being escorted away. The pain of betrayal was still flashing in his eyes. Everything was truly over.
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10 days later. 
Jeonghan leaned against the wall of his cell, staring into the darkness. He knew it was well into the night but sleep wasn't coming to him as always. Every time he closed his eyes, he could only see you, every time he opened them he instinctively looked for you - you refused to get out of his head. 
When Jeonghan saw you for the first time, admittedly he thought you were incredibly beautiful but he saw you as more of a conquest - you had that sweet, innocent expression but there was something darker lingering behind your eyes. It made him want to tease it out of you, expose you for what you really were but with each day, when he saw how simple and soft you were, that desire in him died. In his world everything was as corrupt as could be and you were so good to him, Jeonghan knew that little uncommon goodness had to be preserved, remain untouched. That's why though he itched to get under your skin, he tried his best to keep his distance.
That was of course until you decided to kiss him - after that Jeonghan knew keeping his hands off you was the hardest thing he ever had to do. It wasn’t just because he was uncharacteristically attracted to you, normally it was girls in skin tight leather pants and low neck dresses that caught his attention but because he……liked you. He liked watching you work, he liked spending time with you, he liked the idea of a quiet, uneventful life with you. He had spent all his life chasing something that made him feel complete, not even knowing what it was, until those 10 days with you - that was what he wanted. 
But clearly you didn’t want him. Though he was unable to accept it at the moment, eventually, he believed you when you said it was never your intention to kidnap him. When he discovered his ringing phone in the drawer due to his assistant’s consistent calling and found out that his price was a hundred thousand dollars Jeonghan was beyond hurt. But you were right - you didn’t know about your grandmother’s shop until the last few days. His assistant too confirmed that it was more the boy's plan than yours and that it was definitely not intentional because it was so poorly made that thanks to his phone, his assistant knew Jeonghan's location the whole time - he was only letting the boys get away with it so Jeonghan had a safe place to hide till things fell in place.
Regardless of everything that happened, it still didn’t mean that you wanted him. Especially when that ex of yours came into your life yet again and you so easily asked him to leave - Jeonghan received the message loud and clear. He was not wanted. 
By you at least. The city police definitely wanted him and he knew he had to be on the run yet again but with a part of him left behind in your home, he didn’t know how he was supposed to move away and move on. All he could do was hopelessly wish that you had left a part of you with him too and didn’t always just appear before him like a figment of his imagination. Even now his eyes were playing tricks, showing him the image of you crouched outside his cell bars. You were wearing a police uniform though - Jeonghan softly chuckled. Roleplay was a new element in his imagination. 
Or not. 
Because as Jeonghan stared harder, expecting the mirage of you to disappear, you smiled at him with a small wave and the whisper of his name…..You were actually here. 
Panicking, Jeonghan quickly got to his feet rushing towards you. As his fingers touched your face, confirming your presence, he shook his head. 
“Oh no…. Y/n, what are you doing here?” 
“Hello to you too.” You chuckled. “And what do you mean? I’m here to rescue you.” 
“Rescue me?” 
You nodded. “We’re gonna break out of this prison.” 
“You’re insane.” You grinned as Jeonghan looked at you with disbelief. “You shouldn’t even be here and I can’t run away from here-” 
“You did it last time.” 
“Precisely why. The security is at an all time high, they’re not going to let the same mistake happen twice.” 
“You think I don’t know that?” You raised your eyebrows at him. “Why do you think it took me 10 days to come to you? I was doing my research and figuring out how to get you out of here, and I have found a foolproof way.” 
Jeonghan narrowed his eyes. “And what is that?”
“Just follow my lead.” You pulled out a pair of keys from your pocket, opened his cell door and thrust a package into his hand as you walked in. “Change into this quickly. We only have 17 minutes till the security footage is on loop. We need to get out of here before that.” 
As he confusedly dressed himself, you pulled out a can of spray paint from your pocket and scribbled a message on the wall, one that Jeonghan could barely read thanks to the dimness of the cell. Tossing the can aside, you too quickly stripped out of your uniform and changed into clothes similar to Jeonghan’s.
“Don’t stare, Yoon.” You smiled, pulling your hair into a bun, tucking it under the hat. “This is not the first or last time you’re gonna see me naked.” 
As Jeonghan tried to process all the information, you quickly gathered all the discarded clothes with one hand and held his hand with the other, rushing out of the cell. At the end of the corridor was a cleaning cart in which you promptly dumped all the clothes and asked him to follow you. As you led the way to the washrooms cautiously, keeping an eye on the patrolling security, Jeonghan realised the two of you were wearing the uniforms of the cleaning staff. Finally, you led him to a ladies washroom, promptly locking it behind you. 
“Y/n, what are we doing-” 
“Look, that’s the cleaning supplies closet, inside it is a door that leads to the older wing of this prison that is now undergoing renovation. This door was supposed to be locked from the other side but I already broke it open in the morning.” 
“Morning?” 
“I came in with a bunch of medical volunteers for the camp but I never left the premises - I’ve been hiding here all day. Now we’ve to get through this door and cross the construction site without being seen by the patrolling guards in-” You glanced at your watch. “-8 minutes where the boys are waiting with transport. If we don’t, the guards are gonna figure out you’re missing and security will tighten and we will never be able to get out. If you have any other questions, I promise I’ll answer all of them once we get in the car, okay?” 
Letting out an unsure breath, Jeonghan nodded, following through with your plan to the T. In all the years Jeonghan had been in crime, he had drawn up several heists and master plans but this….. This was probably the most meticulous and well thought out plan he had ever seen. It was to the point it actually both impressed and terrified him that you, the girl who was hiding behind her three friends the first time he tried to talk to you, were the one who came up with it. When the two of you finally stepped out of the last fence, Jeonghan looked back at prison in awe - he thought this time, he was back here for good but when you called out his name and he turned to you, Jeonghan knew the only place he belonged was with you. 
As the two of you trudged through the woods, hand in hand, sirens began to go off in the prison behind you, making you pick up speed, only stopping at the sight of a white car and a white bike beside the very stressed Seokmin, Seungkwan and Soonyoung. The boys sighed in relief as the two of you approached, quickly giving you two a new set of clothes to change into, ushering you into the car. As the two of you began to do so yet again, Jeonghan looked at you intently. 
“Come on Jeonghan, the faster we move from here the better.” 
“Why did you do this? Why did you save me?” 
“Why did you surrender?” 
“Because….” Jeonghan sighed. “I didn’t want your ex to have the power over you with the information that you were housing a criminal. But if I was already in their custody, they wouldn’t really care about where I was on the days I was missing.” 
You smiled at him softly. “So much from a guy who didn’t understand what it meant to put others before yourself.” 
“I told you, you bring out the best in me.” He laughed. “Evidently, I do bring out the worst in you. This was the most badass thing ever, I would’ve never imagined you would do it.” 
“Well, someone did tell me I shouldn’t be afraid to ask or go for what I want.” You leaned back against the door. “I’m done sitting and taking whatever life hands me with the hope that it will be my fairytale ending. I’m gonna take things into my own hands now.” 
“Successfully you mean.” Jeonghan smirked at you. “You had been trying to take things in your hands for quite a while. Like the first few days you tried so hard to get me arrested again?” 
“You knew about that??” 
“It was cute, how you were trying to do the right thing. I should have known you would have never held me hostage for money.” 
“I was going to tell you about it before things spiraled. I had to get you out of my house first so you were at least safe from Bohyun, even if that meant you hated me.” 
“I don’t hate you.” Jeonghan confessed. “I never can. You showed me what I truly wanted from life.” 
“As did you. Which is why I ended things with Bohyun once and for all and now I’m here with you, for whatever adventure it is that’s ahead of us.” 
“Adventure?” Jeonghan looked at you surprised. “What do you mean?” 
“I managed to track down your assistant when I received the papers that I apparently own my grandmother's shop again.” Jeonghan returned your accusatory expression with a sheepish one. “He told me that the last many days, he had been working on liquidating your assets. He also managed to arrange for you to get out of the country and go elsewhere.” You smiled at him. “And I convinced him to let me tag along with you."
“No…..” Jeonghan shook his head. “No you’re not leaving behind your life here and following me around-” 
“Jeonghan, I have no life here.” You sighed. “I always thought I was the kind who wanted something safe and secure but you made me see that deep down I’ve been craving for something more, something stimulating and exciting. I genuinely do want to go with you.” 
“Your mom?” 
“Is more than happy to learn that her daughter is going to Milan to explore her fashion dreams and that my grandmother can move back to her old apartment.” 
“You….. You’re really sure?” 
“Never been more sure.” You reached for his hand, holding it. Jeonghan stroked the back of your hand softly, a smile growing on his face. It did seem like he wanted to say something, until Soonyoung knocked on the window urgently, ushering you out. Putting on the last of your clothes, the two of you stepped out. 
“If the guards send people out to look for Jeonghan, we might get caught here.” Seokmin tapped his foot nervously. 
“Yeah, we need to leave as soon as possible.” Seungkwan added, looking equally scared. 
“Relax,” You rolled your eyes. “They’re not going to find us. They’re not even going to try to look.” 
All four boys looked at you skeptically but it was Jeonghan that spoke up, “Y/n, What did you write on that wall?” 
“Fool you once, shame on you. Fool you twice, more shame for you.” You shrugged, quoting yourself. “I basically wrote in short that if they knew what was good for them, they would keep their mouth shuts and allow the public to think you were still in their captivity rather than admit that you fooled them twice in the span of a month and they are incapable of keeping their prisoners in check. I might have also added that you will not be creating any trouble anymore, rest assured, this secret is best buried in the walls of the prison itself.” 
As your friends stared at you with hung jaws, Jeonghan laughed like he couldn’t believe his ears. “Who are you?” 
“You should’ve seen her the last 10 days.” Soonyoung mumbled. “All the planning, the plotting, she even stitched all these uniforms from scratch, it was low-key terrifying.” 
“I want to know all the details of this master plan.” Jeonghan looked proud. “Every single one of them.” 
“And you will, we have a long journey to Italy.” You clapped your hands, then held it out to Seugnkwan. “Bike keys.” 
“You don’t want the car?” 
“Bike is more fun.” You said casually, reaching for the helmets. “And I’m going to drive.” 
Jeonghan raised his eyebrow impressed, “So the princess is going to rescue me on her big white…. bike.” 
“Guess we got our fairytale ending after all.” You laughed, getting on as your friends rolled their eyes and got into the car. Pulling Jeonghan closer, you finally kissed him, before mumbling against his lips. “Or I guess this time, I’m really kidnapping a mafia boss.” 
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a/n - I cannot explain how much trouble the 1000 blocks per post limit caused. I hope the spacing inconsistency was overlooked oops! Don't forget to leave you thoughts and opinions about the story! This one took a lot of time and effort to make :)
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elixirfromthestars · 9 days
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Boulevard Confessions
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Pairing: 1940s!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader 
Summary: Being a third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn't your ideal Thursday night fun. However, when they tell you Bucky is tagging along you eagerly decide to join them. That is until a third party makes its presence known.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warning(s): drinking / fluff / jealousy / divergent from canon timeline / suggestive language / tipsy symptoms / mentions of war + the hardships that came with it
a/n:  Here’s a little piece that’s been sitting unfinished in my drafts for ages. For context, this timeline is one where Steve and Bucky both made it back from the war safe and sound and are enjoying their lives now that the war is over. Thank you for reading! ₊˚⊹♡ As a little psa my writing challenge is still ongoing!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡
for ambiance 🎶
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“ I am about to spew my dinner all over this table,” you grimace, downing the rest of your martini. The bitterness of the spirits was lost on you as your consumption grew in time with your sour mood.
Peggy eyed you from across the table, holding back her amusement, “ If you keep stuffing your face with martinis you will.” You reach out to grab another unclaimed drink, but before you could, Peggy slid the rest of them away from you. You crossed your arms, blowing out a resigned sigh. Even in your inhibited state, you knew better than to argue with an SSR agent. 
Peggy shook her head at you, “ As your best friend I have an obligation to put a stop to this. Don’t you have a shift tomorrow at the clinic?” Your eyes went wide at the reminder. 
You slump in the booth, dreading the bad hangover awaiting you in the morning. “ I do, but thankfully it's in the afternoon. I won’t feel it by then. . .” You trailed off, failing to convince Peggy, or yourself, you wouldn’t be miserable at work tomorrow. Peggy turned to look at the dance floor before returning her attention to you, “ You know, maybe you should dance the dizzy away. It might help you sober up.” Your lips purse at her suggestion, noticing a certain blonde-haired blue-eyed super soldier returning from the bathroom.
 “ It's easy for you to say. You have a dance partner,” you motioned over to Steve. 
“ You would too if you would only go up and ask him,” she pointed out. 
You glanced at the dancing couples, “ No way. With the way that leech is clinging on to him—I’d never get one word in.”
She shrugged, “ You’ll never know until you try.” These were her parting words before Steve arrived at the table and escorted her onto the dance floor. You watched them, your head bopping along tiredly to the swing music. 
Maybe you should have stayed home. 
You almost didn’t come to the outing—being the third wheel to Peggy and Steve wasn’t exactly your ideal Thursday night fun. However, Peggy had mentioned Bucky would come along, and seeing as you hadn’t seen him in a few weeks due to conflicting schedules, you thought this would be the perfect opportunity to catch up. 
That was until the leech—a woman named Darla—decided to hog Bucky all night. Darla had been trying to get with Bucky for over a month now. You found this out tonight when Steve made a comment about it. Bucky hadn’t paid it much importance, so you thought it must have not been anything serious. However, right about the time you and Bucky were starting to catch up, Darla came over and dragged him away. 
Since then you’ve been inhaling martinis like your lungs preferred them over air. 
You couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted over to Bucky’s figure. Handsome as ever in his navy suit—your favorite color on him—and hair neatly combed. Watching as Darla threw herself at him with the courage that you lacked. Pulling him every which way on the dance floor, holding his hands to her hips in a tight grip. 
Your stomach contents were threatening to come up again. 
When did things get so complicated? You scratched at your brain for an answer. Spending time with Bucky had been so easy back at the military base where you met. You were stationed there in the medical unit caring for wounded and ill soldiers. During that time, you became great friends with Peggy and everyone on the Howling Commandos team. Bucky would frequently visit the medical unit even when he wasn’t sick or wounded. Sometimes you swore he would fake injuries or aches just to come and see you. Anytime he came in with something new he would refuse to see any other nurse but you.
It made you feel special. While other women were smitten with his charms and stumbled over seizing his attention—you had it without effort. You had so much more than just his attention without even trying. On hopeless nights he shared his fears, on days where the war seemed endless you eased his worries, and when he felt like the world was crashing down on him his heart spilled all vulnerabilities to you. 
You found refuge from the horrors of war in each other—a balm to each other’s wounds that went beyond the physical. In no time, something deeper for him bloomed within your heart. 
Ever since the war was over, however, things have been different. It’s been a couple of years and Steve and Bucky work alongside Peggy for the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Going on missions has become their norm, so seeing your friends is a rarity nowadays. 
You on the other hand were given a job at a children’s clinic in Brooklyn. You were grateful for this small piece of normality coming back to you. Treating smaller wounds on smaller bodies instead of lethal wounds during a relentless battle. Your senses are permanently burned with sights, sounds, and smells horrific enough to induce nightmares—and they do—managing to steal precious hours of sleep from you almost every night.
It was something you and Bucky especially bonded over.
“ May I have the honor of a dance, gorgeous?” A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up to meet a pair of unrecognizable hazel eyes. A handsome stranger stood in front of you, his hand outstretched for you to take. If you had but only one percentage less of alcohol in your system you would have declined his offer. This of course wasn’t the case, and not wanting to reminisce on more melancholy thoughts, you decided to listen to Peggy’s advice and dance the dizzy away.
Even if it wasn’t with the man you wanted to dance with.
“ You may,” you smiled at him, taking hold of his hand. Swiftly you were swept into the sea of couples on the dance floor. The handsome stranger—who you soon learn was named Thomas—was an impeccable dancer. With one hand holding yours, and the other holding you gently at your lower back, he spun you around the dance floor in rhythmic kicks and slides. Thomas’ energy was infectious and you couldn’t help but match his enthusiasm. 
After two dances your footwork and Thomas’ were practically synchronized. Thomas twirled you, causing a giggle to escape your lips. It seemed the alcohol was stubborn about staying in your system as the twirl caused the dizziness to come back—for a split second—making you trip over your own foot. Thomas caught you and steadied you, both of you laughing at your clumsiness. The carefreeness of it all lulled the ache in your heart.
Behind Thomas, you caught a glimpse of Peggy who was dancing as joyfully with Steve. Her eyes met yours and she sent you an encouraging smile. Soon after, her eyes drifted to something behind you, turning her smile into a smirk. You went back to dancing with Thomas, but manoeuvered around to get a look at what caused Peggy to smirk. Your heart did a little jump when you discovered she had been looking at Bucky and Darla, dancing a few feet from where you were. 
Correction. She had been staring at a Bucky you barely recognized. His jaw clenched and body rigid as he glared daggers at the back of Thomas’ head. Darla beside him looked snubbed, tugging on Bucky’s arm to get his attention. His tense demeanor didn’t move an inch no matter how much she protested. The pair were no longer dancing, merely standing in the sea of all the couples. This piqued your curiosity. 
Why had he stopped dancing? And to glare at Thomas of all things?
You didn’t have much time to think about it as Darla, clearly fed up by Bucky’s lack of attention, grabbed him by his arm and pulled him away from the dance floor. You swayed to and fro with Thomas, controlling the direction you were swinging in to try and not lose Bucky from your line of sight. 
Where was Darla taking him?
Your heart stopped when you realized where they were going. Darla was making a beeline for the back of the bar where the honey hallway was. The spot where all the couples went to have a little more privacy and fool around without having to leave the bar. If he was going there with Darla, then maybe things were more serious between them than you previously believed.
Your heart dropped to your stomach when reality sank in. 
You excused yourself from Thomas, scurrying away in need of some fresh air. He offered to follow along, but you declined wanting to be alone. You threw the entrance door open into the Brooklyn night as a sickly feeling spread throughout your body. 
You stepped into the street, the swing music fading into the background as the door closed behind you. You took in a deep breath, once again regretting the amount of alcohol you had consumed.
If you weren’t drunk seeing Bucky with someone else wouldn’t have hurt so much. It wouldn’t have knocked the air out of your lungs like it's doing now.
You know that’s a lie. That’s a damn lie you’re telling yourself to get you through the night. To give you the strength to focus on your surroundings and trudge home. 
You’d eventually do that. First, however, your body seemed to want to cling to a street lamp to bring the world back to you. The cold metal underneath your palms grounding you for a moment. The breeze blowing past you threading through your hair as if to comfort you.
“ Doll, everything alright?” Your heart stuttered when you heard his voice, the thud of the bar door closing following it. You shut your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying or doing anything the liquid courage in your system was trying to wrestle out of you. 
You knew you needed to make a quick getaway. 
“ I’m fine. Just heading home,” you were straight to the point before turning to walk away. Not looking at him as you put one foot in front of the other—and then stumbled. 
Bucky caught you, his arms offering a strong support,“ Woah, Y/n, how much did you drink?” There was a slight annoyance in his tone. As if the mere thought of you having fun was preposterous. 
Or at least that’s how your tipsy state interpreted it.
“ Doesn’t matter. I can have a drink or two if I want to. I get to have fun too,” you retort, trying to push his arms away from your body. Your arms are no match for his, as he doesn’t budge an inch—on the contrary, his hold gets more firm. The world started to spin more, but at this point, whether it was because of the martinis or his proximity—you wouldn’t know. 
Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes,“ This isn’t having fun. This is going overboard,” he counters. His constant need to hold you steady and scold you for drinking irked the part of you that was already upset with him—fueling it more. Especially when you had the image of him heading to the honey hallway with Darla ingrained in your brain. And his arms, the ones around you now, swinging her around on the dancefloor. 
There was something dark bubbling an envious brew within you. 
“ Why do you give a damn?” you snap out harshly. He stills at your tone and it's enough to shake his hold off of you. You force yourself to look at him. Intending to shoot him an annoyed glare. Something to convey what your heart felt when your words failed to—but when your eyes met his you froze. 
They were dark—virtually stormy—and yet, there was a hint of pain in them. Almost as if you had kicked him, but he was toughing it out.
“ What was that about?” He finally spoke after what seemed like too long. 
“ What was what about?” You feigned innocence. 
His eyes got darker, a disapproving half smile on his face,“ Don’t play coy. I come out here to check on you. You’re stumbling like a drunk fool. I try to help and you snap at me?” 
“ I didn’t ask you to,” you’re quick with your dismissal.
“ You…unbelievable…” Bucky lets out a scoff, not knowing how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. In his mind, you’re simply too drunk to regulate yourself. He doesn’t know the vile jealousy that bubbles in the pit of your stomach and gnaws at your heart. He doesn’t know the intense battle your emotions are having with your brain—right in front of him—to stay silent before you truly say something you cannot take back. 
“ Go back inside. I’m heading home,” you say simply, not wanting to dwell on this conversation any longer. You feared what might come of it if you didn’t.
“ No. I'm walking you home,” he shakes his head firmly, his tone matching in conviction. 
“ No, you're not,” you reply, turning to make your way down the boulevard. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, “ Like hell I'm not, doll. I'm not letting you walk home alone.” 
“I'm not letting you walk me home. I don't want you to,” you say adamantly as your feet start moving. Bucky is right beside you as they do, not letting you get away,“ I don't care what you want or don't want. I'm walking you home and that's final.” His voice leaves no room for argument. 
The martinis in your system don’t particularly give a damn, but it is enough to quiet you for the time being. Your speed increases slightly, but Bucky can match it easily. For a moment you consider running—as ridiculous as an idea that may be. 
The sharp patter of your footsteps against the pavement synchronizes with the thudding of his as they mingle down the boulevard. The city sounds around you are an otherwise low hum of the occasional car and distant conversation. The city still whispering its signs of life at this time of night.
The walk to your place isn’t too far. And you know if you don’t shake him off soon there would be an unpleasant conversation awaiting you when you arrive.  
“ Don’t you have someone waiting on you at the bar?” You remind him with a little sting to your heart. Secretly hoping this wasn’t the reason he’d walk away from you.
Bucky frowns, thinking for a moment before speaking,“ What? You mean Darla?” The sound of her name on his lips bristles you. 
“ Yeah, her,” the word her spills from your lips as if it was venomous. Bucky catches that and is taken aback for a second. His footsteps coming to a stop. You push yourself to keep walking. Taking this as a sign to ignore the tiny part of your brain that begs you to stop moving.
Not a minute later Bucky strides to your side,“ Doll…are you jealous?” He asks with the tiniest bit of doubt, his small smile overshadowing it. 
“ Me? Ha! No,” your denial is quick—too quick. His small smile turns into a wide grin. You’ve just confirmed his conjecture,“ Yes, you are.” 
“ No. Go ahead and marry her for all I care. I won’t be at the wedding anyway,” you don’t mean what you say and yet you said it anyway. Playing up the indifference act you’ve dawned. 
“ You won’t be at my wedding?” He’s not upset when he responds, he's amused. He has to hold back his laughter at your train of thought. This gets under your skin and you grumble a snippy no before picking up your pace. You’re now imagining Darla in a wedding dress next to Bucky in his suit and it does devastating things to you. 
“ That’s impossible.”
“ How so? I just won’t go.”
His tone takes a more serious turn when he replies, “ It’ll be hard to have a wedding without the bride there.” You come to a halt, your head whipping so fast to look at him you almost gave yourself whiplash.
“ What?” You manage to find your voice. His gaze softens,“ You heard me, doll.” He’s being completely sincere—you know this deep down. However, there’s still a part of you that doesn’t believe this is happening. That believes this to be a dream.
“ You don’t mean that.”
“ I do. If you were to ask me where I see forever—I see it with you.”
His confession takes your breath away. The mere admission of him thinking of you as his eternity—as the one he wants beside him for life—your heart could burst at how delightfully overwhelmed it feels. 
“ But you—” you start and his pointer finger gently presses against your lips to shush you. He already knows what you’re about to bring up and he needs to nip it before your drunken mind jumps to wilder conclusions.
“ She’s just a friend. She’s a secretary at the SSR—nothing more. I was dancing with her to be nice. Honestly, I was trying to find a polite way to leave her and get back to you until I saw you dancing with that guy,” he removes his finger from your lips once he’s done explaining. At the mention of Thomas, his jaw clenches briefly and annoyance flashes in his eyes. 
It dawns on you why he was glaring at Thomas earlier. The realization of Bucky having felt as jealous as you did sends your heart ablaze. Your heart had gone through so much tonight, you were surprised it hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest already. 
“ Who’s the jealous one now?” you tease, an almost giddy smile on your face. 
Bucky rolls his eyes playfully,“ Yeah, doll. Unlike you, I’ll admit it. I was jealous. I don’t like seeing you with another man. Laughing and dancing—should've been me, not him,” he says stepping closer to you. His eyes reflected pure adoration.
“ Why didn’t you ask me?” your question comes out quieter than you’d like. Enamored with the way he’s looking at you. You can barely focus on anything else. 
“ Because when it comes to you I get all nervous and worked up. It's like I’m a punk again—a dumb kid with a crush. I don’t want to mess it up with you, Y/n. I would never want to do anything to lose you. Guess I got too caught up in doing things right I didn’t do anything at all,” Bucky opens up to you, his answer shedding away any last bit of hesitance in your body.
“ Bucky…I wish it would’ve been you instead too,” you say softly, stepping closer until you’re only a few inches away from him. His features match yours in fondness as he gently reaches out to grab hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, and closing the final bit of distance between you.
Your hands rest delicately at his chest. You can feel the way his heart races under your fingertips, drawing out a small gasp from you. Knowing you had this effect on him delighted you. It made you wonder how long you had been making him feel this way—and how long you had missed the signs.
“ Told you. I’m a dumb kid with a crush,” he reiterates with a soft chuckle. You giggle at his words, beaming dreamily at the way that all of this is real. That Bucky has feelings for you, and you two can only grow closer from here on out.
For a split second his eyes dart to your mouth. Having you so close like this tempts Bucky to no end. Everything he’s ever wanted to do with you crosses his mind and it drives him crazy. He has no idea where to start or if he’ll even let himself start anywhere. 
Your body thrums with anticipation as it waits for him to make a move.  
Bucky ends up tenderly kissing your forehead, “ Come on, doll. Let’s get you home.” Your lips form a light pout, disappointed his lips didn’t touch yours. He sees your reaction and he laughs, giving your hips a light squeeze, “ Doll, our first kiss will happen after you get that alcohol out of your system,” he says, one hand reaching up to lightly swipe at your nose—finding you endearing. 
“ We’ve already had our first kiss.” 
“ Doll we—oh, we have…” 
The memory of you two drunkenly kissing in the medical tent on one particularly lonely night during the war flashes through your minds. The already tension between you rising to a palpable form. 
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes,“ Still. If I’m being honest, I’m not stopping at just one kiss. So let’s wait until you’re sober, alright?”
“ Not stopping?” Your tone is playful as you pry for further explanation. 
“ Oh no, doll. I'll be doing so much more than kissing you,” he smirks, his words laced with suggestion. His hand goes out to cup your face, caressing your cheek. It warms under his fingertips at his implication. The air around you buzzes with electricity. 
He can tell where your mind went and he’s enjoying every second of it,“ Yeah, doll. Like taking you out on a proper date,” he winks at you. A genuine laugh erupts from you at the way he side steps what he really meant. He joins you in the laughter, his eyes telling you the truth of what he really desires.
You. Every bit of you.
You interlace your fingers with his, knowing deep down he has a point. When you kiss Bucky you want to be all there. You want all your senses to be fully awake to drink in every bit of him. 
Especially if it goes farther than a kiss.
Bucky moves you over so he’s walking on the outermost part of the sidewalk, holding your interlaced hands to his waist so you’re pressed right up against his side as you walk. You tease and playfully banter all the way to your apartment. The unspoken promises and unmistakable yearning for one another dancing around you two. Assuring you there was so much more to come. 
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i2sunric · 3 months
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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE (l.hs)
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pairing: reckless!heeseung x reader (f)
summary: everyone knows you have a strong character and are a smart woman, and nobody can explain how you ended up with someone like lee heeseung. he makes you want to rip his hair out and kiss him until he drops to his knees at the same time— because however reckless and foolish his decisions are, they’re always made for you.
warnings: crack (and angst if u squint?), mentions of jail, breaking the law. smut! (i put a warning so you can skip if uncomfortable), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), fingering, dirty talking, p in v, doggystyle, pussy eating, sidefuck, mentions of fighting and alcohol consumption. pet names (angel, baby), heeseung isn’t very rich, starring enha hyung line & itzy’s chaeryeong, mentions of songs i like… cause why not?, heeseung is silly, not so nice comments towards reader, for the sake of the plot reader has an ass that jiggles. NOT PROOFREAD.
wc: 8.5k
published: 23rd June 2024
taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries (oneshot) @cherlv @sl33pyrin @kookify @heeslut4life @heeshlove @tibamrayg @enhalxvr @heelee-01 @crimnalseung @oopshee @deobitifull @jjklvr9 @starfallia @eneiyri @artisticbirb @tinyteezer @jakesbbygirl @heartheejake @mitmit01 @p-d1ddy @IIvrhee @jakehooni @minseongsworld @samouryed @ramenoil @blockbusterhee @laurradoesloveu @koralira-kira @kireidattes @yunhoswrldddd @nyamiyan @wonxlvr @kgneptun @camprock101 @trizdoniki @cloud-lyy @rayofsunshineeee @qtnights BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
now playing: Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter
a/n: i honestly don’t really like how it turned out but i didn’t want to make you guys wait any longer. the smut sucks, so sorry but lmk your thoughts! and please LiIKE & REBLOG. also, the songs i mentioned in the fic are related to the scenes so i suggest you to search the lyric on google!
Standing outside the prison, just like the way you got stood up the same morning, you rested your back against your vintage car, tapping your foot impatiently.
You weren’t even surprised when you received Jay’s phone call, informing that the reason why your boyfriend didn’t show up on your date was because he ended up in jail. Again.
You watched as his red-wine hair appeared from the back door, an officer guiding him to the exit until he left his wrists, leaving him free for moving around.
His smirk was smug again, full of fake innocence. Heeseung approached you and said in a sweet voice “Hi, baby.”
He placed his hands on your side, resting them on the dashboard of the car, trapping against the vehicle.
You rolled your eyes, pulling your sunglasses up in a makeshift headband. Chewing on your gum, you asked “What got you in?”
“Speeding,” He answered before joking to lighten up your mood “But the officer put me behind bars for stealing his heart.”
You sighed at his joke, rolling your eyes to look over his shoulder and not gaze into his bambi eyes, knowing they were your weakness.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?” Heeseung asked, lifting one of his hands to tap your chin. He turned your head so you were now looking at him again, a small pout on his lips.
You pushed his chest “Get in the car before I close your head in the door and get sent to jail myself.” You mumbled.
Before you could do it yourself, Heeseung rushed in front of you and opened the driver seat for you. Even if he wanted, he couldn’t drive since they removed his driver licence.
He’d be out for at least two months— that only made you wonder how fast he was actually going.
‘Everytime’ by Ariana Grande started playing from your self-made CD’s and Heeseung smiled softly as he took in the lyric.
“Come on, baby.” He said as you pulled out of the prison and started driving back to his apartment “I know you’re mad—“
“Mad?” You scoffed “I’m infuriated.” You said, and your harsh tone emphasised your range.
Heeseung let out a small sigh, “Baby…” He placed his hand on your thigh, and you shoved it away.
Still, like an annoying mosquito, Heeseung placed his palm back on your thigh “Don’t be mad at me, mh?”
“Do you know how embarrassing it was to get yet another call from Jay that told me he got you bailed out of jail?” You said, looking at him as you reached a stoplight.
“I don’t like it that you make your friend spend so much money for your stupidity.”
He ran a hand through his hair “It was for a good cause.” You rolled your eyes “Sure it was.” You focused back on the road when the light turned green.
“And I don’t know how embarrassed you were— Jay’s loaded anyways, let him use his money on me.” He pinched your thigh, only earning a worse pinch on his own.
“Ouch.” He massaged the flesh you pinched, probably spotting two half moons from your nails “Feisty I see.”
The drive continued silently, just him trying to lighten your obvious bad mood and you purposely ignoring his remarks.
You pulled on the side of the road, letting Heeseung get out of our vehicle. He rounded the car and was about to open your door when you locked it.
He frowned and knocked on the window “Angel?” He asked, leaning forward when you rolled down the window, smiling ever so innocently.
“Yes?” You said, putting your sunglasses back on your face “What is it?”
“You’ll park and come over, right?” He laughed, something that turned awkward after being met with your serious face.
“Y/N?” He asked again and you sucked on your middle finger, flicked him off before pulling away into the road, driving away from him.
Heeseung tried to jog towards you but your foot on the accelerator was pressed down enough that you left the tire’s sign on the ground.
“What the hell.” He scratched the back of his head and shrugged, knowing well that you needed time to cool off.
Sometimes, you wondered if your pressure wasn’t too high from how much mood swings he made you feel in such a short time span.
The same evening, Heeseung chose to fill his stomach with just some chips he found in his cupboard, trying not to choke himself by drinking a coke.
Not very healthy, but low cost. — not really since even some cans of coke started costing a lot, damn inflation —
He took his phone out of his pocket and dialled his best friend’s number, waiting for him to pick up.
“Heeseung?” As his cheerful voice with a thick Australian accent was heard, Heeseung started “Bro, I’m in the doghouse again.”
Jake fought not to laugh at his tragedies and said “What the hell did you do this time?”
“Do not judge.” He balanced the phone on his shoulder and moved to place his very nutritious dinner on the small table in the living room. “But I may have gone to jail again.”
Jake let out a sigh, “You’re a fucking idiot.” He muttered “Why did you go in?”
“Speeding.” Heeseung answered, sitting on the sofa with a loud thud.
“Jesus.” Jake sighed “I suppose Y/N’s all pissed now, uh?”
He flicked on the tv and munched his chips “She’s infuriated, and that’s an understatement.”
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose “You’re in a whole lotta trouble.” He then questioned “What was so important you had to speed so much?”
“Her, bro.” Heeseung answered, “I was late for our date, like, a huge fucking amount late and let’s say I didn’t think before pressing the accelerator.”
“You’re screwed.” Jake commented, “Had I been her, I would’ve broken up with you a long time ago.”
Heeseung frowned, “Don't say that.” He changed channels, not very useful since his TV only had two working channels, blaming the aerial on the rooftop that got damaged after a bad storm.
“It’s the third time you’ve been a ent to jail.” Jake pointed out “For foolish mistakes.”
“I know, I know.” Heeseung sighed “But speeding isn't even a crime if I don’t run over anyone!”
The boy on the other line laughed at how he tried to defend himself "It’s still a crime." Jake pointed out.
"But yeah, you didn't run anyone over, and for that the city should be grateful." He said, before chuckling. “But your girl definitely isn't."
Heeseung rubbed his jaw and took another bunch of chips “Apart from admitting I am a fucking douchebag, what do I do to amend myself?”
Jake thought for a moment before replying “Well, girls usually like gifts. You know, something cliché, roses or chocolates, that kind of stuff.”
“Roses are expensive.” Heeseung thought, “And so is chocolate.”
“How much money do you even have?” Jake sighed “Not a lot, oh—“ He stopped himself “I also have to phone Jay and thank him for bailing me out. Again.”
“Jay is too good to you.” The Australian chuckled “Back to your crappy plan, what are you gonna give her?”
Heeseung took a sip of coke and let out a small burp, at which Jake commented with a quiet ‘Disgusting’, “I’ll steal some flowers on the way.”
“Dude, your gee ef is already pissed off, do you really think giving her stolen flowers is going to win her heart back?” He asked.
“Just go buy them like a normal person, don't steal them, you're gonna dig yourself into an even deeper hole."
Heeseung let out a distressed sigh “Alright, If I still have money after buying those expensive flowers, should I take her out on dinner too?”
Jake chuckled at his best friend’s struggle “Yes. You totally should.”
Heeseung nodded, staring at the old cartoon displayed on the Television. The main character, with long, red hair put in two braids seemed oddly familiar.
Seriously, he had already seen her, and not only in her cartoon whose title he didn’t remember.
And then, something clicked inside his head “Oh my god!” He exclaimed, almost making Jake go deaf.
“You’re the smartest person on earth, thank you man, kisses to your sexy brain.” And then he hung up.
Uh uh baby. Mission ‘Win Y/N’s heart back in full classy with a sprinkle of glitter’ activated.
♡.
“Hi, baby.” Was the first thing that met your hearing when you opened the door.
There stood your boyfriend, you debated whether to let him in or shut the door in his face, but as your eyes scanned his body you noticed he was dressed rather nicely— Was his button up even ironed? Unexpected.
“These are for you.” He cut in, showing a bouquet — actually, there were only three — of tulips.
“What did you do there?” You asked as you noticed some bad scratches on his hands, dried blood on them.
He handed you the flowers, which were nicely put together with pink paper, matching the colour of the petals, and stepped into your apartment.
Your house wasn’t that fancy, you weren’t the wealthiest person in town either, but it was a big contrast with his lapsing one.
It was nicely tidied, everything had its place and nobody would’ve dared to break its order. Not even Heeseung’s clumsy hands.
“I wanted to get you your favourite flowers,” Heeseung smiled, turning toward you when you closed the door behind your back and smelled the tiny bouquet.
“But tulips have become so expensive nowadays, so I had to steal some from my neighbour,” He sighed “Her pussy cat gashed me when I put my hand near the vase.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his story, carefully placing the flowers on the table and taking his wounded hand, examining it.
“Let me treat it.” You said, walking to the cupboard where you kept your first aid kit “Don’t worry, it doesn’t even—“
At the side eye you shot him, Heeseung knew better than arguing further and just shut his mouth “Yes ma’am.” He said, sitting down on the chair.
You began to gently treat the scratches on his hands, teasing him by adding more pressure than you should. A little payback for how he angered you.
“Why are you here, by the way?” You questioned, tip toeing to reach the cupboard and put back the first aid kit.
Heeseung’s figure hovered behind as his hand softly reached for yours, taking the aid and placing it on the higher shelf.
Fucker, that way you’d either have to ask him to take it down or climb the counter. Knowing how prideful you were, you’d stick with the latter.
“To take you out for dinner.” He replied, the warmth of his body replaced by emptiness as he stepped away “As an apology for standing you up yesterday.”
You crossed your arms on your chest “I’m still mad at you.” Heeseung nodded “Fair, you have all the rights.”
He sighed “But please, let me take you out.” He walked closer and placed a tentative hand on your arm, when he saw you didn’t budge, he let his hands caress your sides “Grab your bestest dress and let’s have a night out, mh?”
“Bestest isn’t even a word.” You rolled your eyes. “Only children use it.”
“It is when I use it to say that you’re the bestest thing in my life.” Heeseung beamed and you cursed yourself for being so weak for him.
Playing hard to get wasn’t a choice, because no matter how stubborn you were or how clumsy he was, he always found the right words to make you fall head over heels for him.
“I have to take a shower and get dressed, and also do my hair and make up.” You murmured and Heeseung smiled, “I’m a patient man.”
You raised a brow at his very much uncorrect statement “Alright, maybe you should start right now.” He gently turned you around and pushed you toward the bathroom.
You sighed and walked in, locking the door when you heard his voice from the other side “Oh and baby? You need to drive, they took my licence, remember?”
♡.
When Heeseung entered your car and heard ‘Fake As Hell’ by All Time Low and Avril Lavigne, he knew he was in deep trouble.
You had this strange habit of listening to songs that matched your mood of the day, usually chilly and sad when it rained and upbeat when the sun shone.
And, well, punk when you had a storm going inside.
It was a habit he found cute, one he learnt from observing you and your behaviour and probably the only one aware of it.
Like how you scrunch your nose and grimace when he says something you don’t like, or how you tend to throw your head back when someone — preferably him — makes you laugh.
Heeseung knew all your little details that you probably didn’t even notice yourself.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the clear side glances you gave him, he cleared his throat before speaking.
“Did you change something in your makeup, angel?” He asked, even if angel wasn’t really the pet name to match your feisty attitude.
He was also glad that you let him inside your car and kindly drove the both of us, because if you wanted, you would’ve made him walk to the date location.
Your gaze softened a little as you focused on the road ahead of you “Yes.” You stated, surprised that he even noticed “I changed the lip combo.”
“You look good with this combination as well.” Heeseung said, careful with his phrasing “Even if I’m foreseeing it’ll get smudged by the end of the evening.” He added with a wink.
You tsked, “I don’t think you deserve to be the one to smudge it.”
His gaze darkened slightly. “I really hope no one else will get to do that.”
You smirked, “Where are you taking me?” You asked even if you were the one driving.
“Wendy’s.” Heeseung smiled, “I know, not fancy or worth enough for such a beautiful person like you, but affordable for a bad person like me.” He added, “And I know you like it.”
You didn’t think he knew that it didn’t matter where you went as long as he was present, where you could have him in sight and check if he did something wrong.
How unhealthy it was, you had grown anxious whenever he wasn’t with you, blaming the fact that he always ends up in trouble without supervision.
“Alright, stud.” You smiled back, speeding just enough to reach the nearest fast food chain “Let’s have our long awaited date.”
The ride was filled with small talks and funny conversations, mostly initiated by your boyfriend, and in the blink of an eye, you reached Wendy’s parking lot.
The side of town wasn’t that famous, just a couple of people stood outside, smoking cigarettes while in the nearby motorbikes parking lot were some old bikers, sipping what you thought was coke.
You didn’t mind them, even if they didn’t give you nice vibes. Heeseung grew confident enough that you wouldn’t reject his touch and wrapped one arm around your waist, tugging you closer.
The dress you chose hugged your curves ever so sweetly, the contrast between black and red making you more seductive.
When you showed up out of the bathroom, you half expected him to call you off and tell you to change; instead, he said you could wear whatever you wanted because he could fight— and that was what worried you.
You smirked and wrapped an arm around his waist as well before slipping it inside the back pocket of his jeans.
Heeseung chuckled “Trying to cop a feel, angel?” He asked, a smile plastered on his face when he finally had you in his arms.
“Yes, baby.” You playfully squeezed his butt through the fabric “Best cake ever.”
“I like this cake better.” Heeseung said as he leaned slightly back to lightly smack your ass.
“Hey!” You walked forward from the impact, laughing “No, how can I blame you.”
“Gosh, I’m starving.” You said, turning around to walk backward, trusting him enough to know that he’d tell you if you were to walk over something or someone.
“Let’s fill our tummies with burgers!” Heeseung exclaimed, beaming down at you, the sound of your heels echoing as you reached the entrance that was close to the motorbikes parking lot.
“Oi, look at how it jiggles.” Heeseung’s neck almost snapped as he heard the comment from a nearby voice. He saw how those creepy as hell bikers were ogling at you, their eyes trailed on your exposed legs. One of them even licked their lips “Bet it bounces so well.”
“You got a problem, buddy?” His voice was dark and he looked past you, his nose up, being territorial.
Oh no. You knew that gaze so well, it was the one he had when he failed to control his pent-up anger.
“Hee—“ You tried to say but he had already walked past you, standing in front of one of their bikes “Nah, no problem.” One laughed “Just thought we’d compliment your lady there.”
Heeseung's eyes narrowed, his irritation growing.
He clenched his fists, trying to keep his anger under control. "You better watch your mouth.” He warned.
One, a little younger than them, chuckled, clearly unfazed by Heeseung’s threads “Not our fault she’s hot,” His smile was smug “Just thought we’d appreciate her from afar.”
He then eyed you up and down, making you shiver under his gaze. Something that didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend.
He took a step closer to the bikers, fists still clenched. "I'm not going to tell you again," He growled, "Keep your comments to yourself, or you're going to end up with a black eye."
“Heeseung,” you took his wrist in your small hand, rubbing your thumb on his knuckles in an attempt to sooth him “You promised you’d behave, remember?” Your voice was ever so gentle.
At your words, his gaze softened and he looked behind his back “Yeah.” He whispered, “But baby, they said—“
“I know what they said.” You were quick to interrupt him “But I don’t care, can we just ignore them and enter the building? We’ll be fine.”
He stayed silent a few seconds, clearly trying to calm himself down. His clenched fits slowly relaxed and he nodded “Alright, let’s do that.”
He took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing you behind his back, as if to protect you.
Your gaze made the enormous mistake of meeting the biker that complimented your jiggly backside and he made a slapping gesture in the air.
A gesture that wasn’t, at all, ignored by your boyfriend who quickly charged at him “Alright fucker, you searched for it.”
His fist connected with the biker’s jaw, twisting his face to the side. He shook his hand, knuckles bruising from the impact.
The other bikers lunged at him, their fists flying.
Heeseung managed to duck and weave, dodging most of the blows. But eventually, one of them was able to land a punch to his stomach, causing him to double over in pain. And another hit connected on his face.
You gasped at the sight, “Stop!” You cried out, not knowing how to intervene “Please, stop it!”
Despite the pain, Heeseung straightened up and lunged at the biker who had punched him, tackling him to the ground.
He wasn't prepared for the sudden attack and fell hard, the wind knocked out of him.
You knew that darkened gaze, it was the one he had when his brain completely shut off and only left room for his angry, ranged feelings.
“No, Heeseung!” You gasped “Get off him.” You tried to get close but just the sight of the bikers around your boyfriend, all ready to attack made you flinch.
Heeseung gave the biker a set of hooks and punches, connecting with his jaw and nose. You heard a vague crack sound and silently prayed that he did not just break his nose.
Your chest heavied up and down, breath troubled from the panic.
You turned around just to see that some people began to gather by the entrance of the hallway, phones in their hands as they filmed the scene in front of them.
Your eyes widened and you quickly approached Heeseung, ignoring any other angry men around you “Let’s go.” You said, taking a hold of the hand he was about to use to punch the biker underneath him.
Heeseung blinked faintly, looking confused but allowing you to make him get up and leading him into one of the hidden hallways behind Wendy’s.
“Hey! Where do ya think you’re doing?” One of them shouted, probably jogging behind you but your feet never faltered.
“Run faster.” Heeseung gasped, taking your hand in his, taking the lead and finally ducking behind a bin.
You both squat down, panting as you tried your best not to make any sound.
You looked at your side, Heeseung’s cheekbone was bruised and his eyebrow bleeding from a minor cut.
Your gaze was full of worry and disappointment. “I can’t believe you started a fight.”
Heeseung grimaced as he touched his cheek “I didn’t start it, they searched for it by making such remarks on you.”
“You threw the first punch.” You frowned “That means starting it.”
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair. “I know, I just saw red and acted on impulse.”
You looked away and silence filled the air between you two. Waiting some minutes for things to calm down, and you took a sigh of relief when you heard stretches of bikes, driving away.
“Let’s go home.” You said, getting up from the floor, needing to support your weight with the wall.
“What about dinner?” He asked, getting up as well “You don’t want to enter?”
You whispered “I’m not hungry.” and made your way to the parking lot, where you left your car.
Heeseung understood that the situation was critical when, as you entered the car, you turned off the music, leaving only the sound of the tires on the road and the ticketing of turn signals.
Feeling a pang of guilt in his chest at the way up he had upset you so much you didn’t even want him to feed you, he reached for the small drawer where you kept all the CDs.
He took the one full of songs he liked and that you kept there, in case he wanted to listen to them whenever he used your car.
He put it in the console and shuffled the song until the right one came, he leaned back against the seat, gulping down nervously.
You heard the notes of ‘LIPS’ by jxdn playing and your breath hitched when you focused on the lyric.
Heeseung was playing the same little game you’d done since you started dating, or even before, when you tried to give him signals through the lyrics of your favourite songs.
You noticed him sneakily glancing at you, trying to take in your reaction.
He placed a hand on the one you had on the shift gear, and relaxed when he saw you weren’t going to reject his touch.
Because even if your brain screamed to leave him, your body seeked his comfort.
♡.
As soon as you got to your apartment, you rushed to take the first aid kit which was, obviously, on the highest shelf in the cupboard.
Heeseung, silently approached you and took it down for you, offering you a warm smile you did not reciprocate. Not like he thought you would.
You walked from the kitchen into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was already past eight PM and the room’s only source of light was the moonlight coming from the window.
Not wanting to get up from the bed to turn on the light, you just waited for Heeseung to join you.
He sat beside you, not too close but also not too far, enough for you to be able to clean his wounds freely.
You took a cotton stick and the disinfectant out, gently pouring it on the cotton and then placing one finger under his chin to guide his head.
The single touch sent shivers down Heeseung’s spine, glancing to your face as you treated him ever so sweetly.
It was in moments like those that he saw just how wonderful you were. You cared for him, so deeply you would do anything to have him by your side.
Even if it meant ignoring the red flags shooting up.
Then, once again. It was the turn to treat his hands. His knuckles were bruised, dried blood you didn’t think belonged to him coated his skin.
With a small sigh, you ignored the wince that left his lips as you tried to clean it the best without water.
Heeseung studied your face, disappointment written all over, frown knitting your brows.
His heart was as heavy as the air surrounding the pair of you, making it harder for him to talk.
Not long after, you were done and closed the first aid kit, throwing inside the dirty cotton sticks.
Gulping down, he whispered “Baby.” The pet name was enough to make your skin fill with goosebumps “Talk to me.”
His hands twitched, as if he wanted to reach for you but couldn’t. And it physically hurt him.
“I get why you did it, I really do.” You explained, “And I’m glad that you tried to defend me, ” You sighed softly “I don’t want you to get in trouble or fight because of me.”
“It’s never ‘because of you’, baby.” He murmured, his arms wrapping around your waist.
“I know you asked me to behave and I shouldn’t have used my fists.” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “But I couldn’t let them talk about my girl like that.”
His thumb traced lazy circles on your stomach, trying to relax your stiff body. “You don’t deserve to hear such things said to you, ever.”
“It hurts, you know?” Your voice was merely a whisper “Having to stand and watch you do all these foolish things.”
Heeseung slowly pressed your back flush against his chest, his lips placing small kisses behind your ear lob. Trying to take your mind off it.
“Heeseung.” You said, voice a little like a thread “Mh?” He hummed, ever so innocently.
One hand trailed down your stomach until the hem of your dress that had rode up your thighs when you sat down.
“Come on, angel.” He purred, “Let me show you how sorry I am.”
You didn’t even have time to let him off because his lips started placing open-mouthed kisses all over your neck, knowing how sensitive you were there.
He shifted so that you were sitting between his legs, you could feel his heartbeat on your back. It matched yours, pounding fast.
SMUT WARNING
Heeseung slowly pried your legs open, enough to make your dress lift and your panties to show.
His attention shifted from your neck to your clothed mound, his fingers teasing you.
You scoffed, “I don’t want to see you.” You stated, trying to do your best to show him that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing.
Shame on you, he knew your body language more than how a book lover knew all the characters of his favourite book.
“You don’t need to see me for me to make you feel good.” He whispered in your ear “Are you seeing me now?” Heeseung asked, his fingers tracing lazy rubs on your clit.
Your body jerked slightly, making him sneak one arm around your waist to keep you steady.
“Answer me, baby.” He purred and you bit your bottom lip, determined not to give him.
Heeseung chuckled darkly and slipped your panties to the side, taking your slickness in his fingers, already dripping wet. Still, you made no sound.
Not satisfied and wanting you to let him do what he does best. Heeseung pushed one finger inside of you, making you gasp out.
“That’s what I thought.” He whispered, his finger moving in and out of you, occasionally rubbing against your g-spot.
“Mh..” You hummed softly, the sound sending heat to Heeseung’s cock that you could feel him press against your arse.
He left wet, kitten kisses down your jawline when you rested your head back on his shoulder, the feeling of him too pleasurable to keep acting like a brat.
“My baby.” He cooed, adding a second digit into your wetness, filthy sounds echoing through the room’s walls.
You moaned and gripped his forearm, trying to steady yourself as your body jerked on its own.
“Mh? There?” Heeseung asked, his finger brushing against a certain spot that had you moaning out loud.
“Uh uh.” He chuckled, “Found it.” He kept brushing and curling his fingers to stimulate your sweet spot until you clenched.
Heeseung slowly rutted his hips on your back, his pants now too strained and tight, beyond uncomfortable.
You felt him, his length so evident and hot even under the lays of clothing.
“Please, Hee.” You mumbled, head fizzy “Fuck me.” His movements faltered. His plan for the night was to just pleasure you, even if he could use a hand at that moment.
“Are you sure?” He asked, “I just want to make you feel good.”
You grew impatient, your mood already pissed from his previous behaviour “And I want you to fuck me, hard, can you do that?”
Heeseung let out a breath, almost pained as he tried to think straight.
“Do you still not want to see me?” He asked, his voice quiet and husky. Dangerous even.
You nodded, despite the sweet feeling he was providing you, you feared that seeing his cocky grin would make you put another bruise on his face.
“Got it.” He removed his fingers from your pussy, licked them clean and manhandled you.
He turned you so your chest was pressed against the mattress. He knew better than to make you wait, so he unzipped your dress, letting it fall open.
He helped you out of it, making you stay on all fours on the bed “Still don’t want to see me?” He asked and you groaned, shaking your head.
“Too bad.” Heeseung murmured, unclasping your bra “I won’t get to see your pretty face when I shove my cock deep inside of you.”
His words had you shiver, slickness pooling on your panties.
Heeseung smirked and threw your bra on the floor before doing the same with his own clothes.
His fingers pushed your panties to the side “You like it, mh?” He murmured, slowly pressing the tip of his already hard cock between your slick folds “You like it when I fuck you?”
With his hard length pressing against you, your head was clouded with desire and primal urges, so strong only when you were with him.
“Yes, Hee.” You whispered, arching your back to make his cock grind against your pussy “Like it. Need it.”
“Fuck.” Heeseung breathed out, pulsing for you, trying his hardest not to lose control.
In one swift thrust, he had already put half of himself inside of you, making you cry out in both pain and pleasure.
“So good.” He breathed out “Always feel so good.”
Your back arched as he slowly pushed all of his cock, filling you to the brim. His mushroom tip hit your cervix with each thrust, making your legs shake.
Your hand reached behind to spread your pussy even more, trying to take him all, needing to feel him inside of you.
It wasn’t the sweetest of sex, but having him taking you made you feel a deep connection. It was something you shared only with him, an intimacy between the two of you.
Heeseung pushed your back by your ass, slowly thrusting, trying to make you adjust to the intrusion.
When the hand that was stretching you went to grasp his waist, trying to get him to move faster, Heeseung was happy to comply.
You wished you could see his muscular body, the way his jaw ticked and his chest clenched tight when he rutted his cock, shoved into your deepest part.
You let out soft moans, your head falling on the bed as the constant hit of your sweet spot made your eyes roll.
“S-so fucking tight.” He groaned, slapping your ass-cheek “Aren’t you baby?” You moaned in return.
He gripped your hips, grip bruising as he thrusted inside of you at a desperate speed “Feels good?”
You grasped the sheets underneath you “So good.” Your voice came out broken.
Heeseung hummed in response, his hips never slowing down as he tried to provide you pleasure and chase his high at the same time. But he didn’t want it to end so soon.
He wanted— no, he needed to have you unravel underneath him, make your legs shake and have you screaming his name.
He wanted to take you hard enough to make you forget all the pain he brought you.
When he felt himself twitch inside of you, dangerously close to his release, he pulled out, earning a complaining moan from you.
Heeseung’s smug grin was still plastered on his face as he dove back between your thighs. He gripped your ass-cheeks, spreading your wet folds and licked a long stripe.
Your body arched into his touch, hum rolling down your tongue.
He licked again, then another time, teasing your clit until you were a whimpering mess.
“Still don’t want to see me, angel?” Heeseung asked, briefly thrusting his tongue in your pussy.
Not answering, you pulled away from his grasp and laid down on the bed sideway, finally taking a glimpse of his face.
The moonlight shone from the window, illuminating his bruised and slightly-puffed face. Heeseung’s chest was heaving up and down, matching yours, his cheeks flushed and his gaze so soft. Enamoured over again, even.
You smiled gently at him and held your hand out for him to take. He quickly complied and took your hand as he laid beside you, his chest flush against your chest once more.
Ignoring the painful stretch of your neck, you turned your face to look at him and he was quick to pull you into a heated kiss.
Guiding his leaking cock into your entrance, he gently entered you, making you gasp.
Taking advantage of your parted lips, his tongue slid past your lips, moving slowly against yours, savouring the taste of you.
His hands roamed over your body, one of them moving to tangle in your hair while the other squeezed your breast, teased your nipple.
His pace was steady, sending waves of pleasure to your body. Your own fingers went to draw lazy circles on your clit, making you clench around him.
“Fuck.” Heeseung breathed out on your lips, twitching inside of you “Stop clenching like that.”
You hummed, biting gently on his bottom lip as the sweet sensation of both his cock and your rubbing sent you close to the edge.
Heeseung could feel it, how you clenched around his length and how your moans got louder.
“I’m gonna cum too.” He whispered, his nose brushing against your cheek “Just a little bit longer.”
Your free hand went to cup your boob as he kept pinching your nipple, making you arch your back.
“Hee.” You breathed out, “S’close.”
“I know, angel.” He hurried his thrusts, the sound of the bed creaking filling the night air “Shit— pussy so warm.”
“Where do you want it?” He wasn’t one to normally ask, but given the circumstances and the previous small ‘argument’, he thought he owed you that question.
“You can come inside.” You stated quietly “I need it— Need you to fill me up.”
“Fuck. Y/N.” He panted, both his hands grasping your body as he rutted his hips against yours, hitting your cervix with each snap.
Heeseung continued that pace until he felt his release approach, he slapped your hand away and began to forcefully rub your sensitive bud, wanting you to come at the same time.
You jerked and squirmed beside him, the feeling too good for your own body “Hee—“ You tried to warn but the knot in your stomach snapped, making you milk his cock.
“Cumming, I’m cumming.” Heeseung panted, hips faltering as he emptied his load inside of you.
Both your breaths were heavy, exhaustion washing over the both of you.
Heeseung waited for you to ride down off your high before pulling out his softened cock, reaching for the nightstand to take a tissue and clean you up.
END WARNING
You let him do what he needed, watching him through tired eyes.
Heeseung smiled softly at you, placing a tender kiss on your forehead “Sore?” He questioned.
You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. Heeseung’s thumb traced lazy circles on your knuckles.
“Stay?” You asked quietly, and his heart sank at your vulnerable state.
Nodding, he shifted back so he could hold you, cuddle you against his chest.
He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. His lips brushed your ear, breath fanning your skin.
“Good night, stud.” You whispered tiredly, your eyes already heavy.
Heeseung smiled, tugging you closer “Good night, angel.”
♡.
It didn’t take a genius to realise that Heeseung had, in fact, messed up. Quite a lot, actually.
Not only had the video of him beating the shit out of the biker gone viral, now all over Twitter (he refused to call it like the letter that made him cry during maths class, the fucker that always needed to be found) and Instagram.
But also, staring at the naked body laying on the bed beside him, sheets around you, looking like a perfect angel on earth to save him, he came to the conclusion that he had poor communication skills.
He always seemed to resolve your arguments using his fingers and dick, and he hated how you just gave in to him.
Heeseung didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve your comprehension, your forgiveness neither.
He wanted to make things right, to be worthy of you. However, all his efforts seemed to just bring more chaos into your relationship.
“I love you so much.” He whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of your face “I can’t even put it into words.”
You stirred, making him retract his hand. Fortunately, you weren’t awake, your eyes were still closed and your face relaxed in the innocence of sleeping.
He needed to find a solution, one that didn’t require the cliché of a night out at a nice restaurant or flowers.
Heeseung needed to find something to win your heart back; one that would demonstrate to you that he, indeed, took you seriously.
Because Heeseung did not want a future if you weren’t in it. If you weren’t the one he chose rings for, if you weren’t their recipient.
He didn’t want a life where you weren’t the one to walk down the aisle, the one to bear his children, the one to build a family with him.
And even if you didn’t want to get married or have a mini-you around the house, growing old alongside you was already the greatest honour he could ask for.
♡.
When you woke up that morning, the last thing you expected to see was a note from Heeseung, telling you that he’d be right back at you and that there was some burnt toast in the kitchen from the failed breakfast he tried to make.
Trying to take your mind off the clumsy man who occupied it all the time, you decided to hang out with your best friend, Chaeryeong.
Sitting at a nice café and taking aesthetic pictures to post was a great distraction and therapy.
And, of course, you found comfort in your best friend, telling all the things she wasn’t aware of and that happened since you two last saw each other— which unfortunately was a long time ago.
“Did he really punch them?” Chaeryeong’s mouth fell open as she took in all the information “Like… he tried to fight a whole gang of old hags that were ogling at you?”
You nodded, pinching the bridge of your nose “Some fuckers even took a video and it spread all over internet.”
“No way.” She said, shocked “Let me see.”
You took your phone out of your pocket and started searching for the video on X. You handed her your phone and waited for her reply.
“Damn baby.” She smiled, “That right hook was strong.”
You widened your eyes “Chaeryeong.” You said, sternly, “I’m being serious here.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She gave you your phone back “Honestly, if my man ain’t like that, I don’t want him.”
You gave her a side eye and Chaeryeong chuckled “Y/N, he defended you from those bikers, he wasn’t afraid to stand up for you.”
“I know.” You looked down at your half-empty cup of coffee “I really appreciated that. But I also don’t want him to get into any more trouble.”
“Yeah, well.” Chaeryeong grimaced “He isn’t a saint, but his actions are clear, as messed up as they are, they’re all for you.”
“I’m just…” You closed your eyes “So confused and so tired.”
She pouted and took your hand in his “I’m so sorry.” She said, sincerity lacing her words “I don’t really know how to help you.”
You just gave her a reassuring smile and stared at your coffee to block out your unhappy thoughts.
“Listen, girl.” Chaeryeong said after a few minutes of silence “Why don’t we go to your favourite pub tonight? The vintage one.” She suggested.
“Let’s wear a pretty dress, order some strong liquor and just shut off anything else.” She raised a hoping brow.
You debated whether to rot in your bed and try to figure your feelings out or ignore them for a while and think about them later.
“Alright, yeah.” You nodded, smiling at her “Let’s do that.”
However, you failed to notice the message she received before asking you to hang out and the cunning grin on her lips.
♡.
Chaeryeong was right, you really needed a girls’ night.
You missed getting ready with her, just listening to music and helping each other doing your makeup.
You just missed her.
Though, you missed a certain wine-haired boy more.
You hadn’t seen him since the night before, where he cuddled you to sleep only to make you wake up in an empty bed.
And even if you didn’t want to admit it, it hurt. Fairly.
Suppressing any thought of him in the deepest part of your mind, you took Chaeryeong’s arm and went into the pub.
Well, it wasn’t a normal pub. There were no blinding lights nor loud music.
It was calm, collected and people’s chattering was quiet, just enjoying the atmosphere and the antique music.
You took place at an empty table where Chaeryeong led you, in front of the small stage.
Ordering a Martini and feeling content, you just talked about anything with your best friend.
Everything was going smoothly until the lights suddenly turned off, leaving only the stage’s ones on.
“Is there a special stage today?” You whispered to Chaeryeong who just shrugged, even if, once again, you failed to see the smile on her face.
A man walked up to the stage, he put down his suitcase and removed his jacket.
The man walked to the centre of the stage where the microphone was and the light showed him.
A man— No. Your man.
Heeseung stood there, red wine hair perfectly styled, grey jacket with a white shirt and equally grey pants you knew he couldn’t afford.
Your eyes widened at the realisation and you heard a soft chuckle beside you.
Oh, that was why Chaeryeong wanted to hang out “Just keep watching.” She incited.
So you did, your eyes finding Heeseung like they always did.
Gentle music started playing and his voice was amplified by the microphone. You knew that song, it was one of your favourites, ‘this is what falling in love feels like’ by JVKE— He remembered.
Heeseung removed his jacket, his voice was as sweet as honey, matching his usual scent.
He walked around the stage and did silly gestures, always maintaining eye contact with you.
Unconsciously, you smiled back at him, proud of how he was singing in front of such a crowd.
Usually, he’d be so shy of his singing, only doing it under the shower or to lull you when you had trouble sleeping.
You sighed softly, a pang in your heart at the feeling of loss. It hurt, even just being angry at him hurt.
The music slowly stopped and he threw a rose on the small table, which you caught and smelled it.
It was fake, making you chuckle softly and you swear you saw Heeseung’s whole demeanour relax.
All the people there to enjoy his small stage clapped and whistled, clearly mesmerised by his sweet voice.
“Alright, thank you.” Heeseung chuckles softly, the smallest shade of blush colouring his cheeks.
He takes the microphone in his hands “Honestly, dressing like my grandpa, shout-out to him,” He gave two small punches to his chest and then pointed at the crowd, where his grandfather clearly wasn’t “Wasn’t in my plans for the night.”
The small crowd laughed “But I happen to know a girl, this girl loves these places, full of old and dusty things.” He looked around and then his gaze settled on you, a small smirk on his lips.
He paced around the stage “And, thanking whoever is to thank, she also happens to love me.” The crowd raised a choir of ‘woo’s.
“Or so, I hope.” He paced on the other side “Because, you should know that I have this thing for f— messing things up.” He winked at a kid sitting near the stage “Keeping it PG rated.”
The crowd and his parents giggled, and so Heeseung continued walking, stopping in the middle of the stage and settling his microphone back to its place.
“I am no perfect man, alright? I know I have so many flaws, but the one I hate the most is the tendency to break her heart.” ‘Boo’s echoed in the whole room.
“Deserved it.” He placed a hand on his heart and continued his speech, under your still-shocked gaze.
Heeseung wasn’t an extrovert, he preferred not to talk to people who weren’t his close friends— but seeing him talk so freely about you on the stage with at least twenty foreign eyes on him, made your heart melt.
He bit his bottom lip nervously “I have no idea how she saved me. How she saw some good in such a wrecked person, because that’s what I am.” His eyes were full of vulnerability when he locked them with yours.
“In our two years of relationship, I felt so many emotions I didn’t even know existed!” Heeseung smiled softly “I started being less selfish, and think more about her.”
“I still remember that time when she wanted to dance.” His eyes lit up at the memory “In the middle of the night, but my place isn’t big, so I moved the furniture, trying to make enough room for me to swing her around.”
You giggled, recalling the moment and Heeseung gave you a knowing look “The person who lives in the house down mine came to complain and I also got a slipper on my head— but, hey! My girl wanted to dance.”
His girl. It was wonderful how just two words could ignite a fire in you.
“Y/N.” Your name resonated in the whole pub “I don’t want to be the reason of your tears, I want to dry them,” His bambi eyes were serious, boring into yours with so much unspoken affection “I want to be the person you go to when you’re sad, not the one you try to avoid.”
Heeseung took a deep breath and you swore you saw his hands tremble “I’ll be a better man, someone you can be proud of. Someone worthy of you.”
Oh dear. He looked just like a little boy searching for his parents’ approval. “Can I get a last chance to prove myself?” He asked, pointing at you.
Everyone in the room turned to look, eyes fixed on your figure.
You shrugged “Nah.” And a general gasp filled the room. Heeseung’s face fell, hope dissipating from his body.
Deciding that you had toyed with him enough, you got up from your chair and jogged to the stage.
Heeseung widened his eyes and he let go of the microphone to catch you as you threw yourself at him. Your arms around his neck, his hands holding your waist, confusion still written all over his expression.
“Silly.” You smiled up at him “Of course, I’ll give you one chance.” You pointed a threatening finger in his chest “But it’s the last one, you act like an asshole one more time and we’re done, you got it?”
“Thank you.” His voice was filled with gratefulness “Thank you, thank you!” Heeseung exclaimed, burying his face in the crook of your neck, spinning you in the air.
You giggled happily, “Stop.” You laughed when you felt butterflies in your stomach.
All the people at the table, comprehending Chaeryeong and the little boy, erupted in a choir of ‘Kiss’.
Heeseung put your feet back on the ground, his eyes moving from your own to your lips.
You nodded slowly, giving him the consent he needed. He crashed your lips together in a gentle kiss, sparks flying and your hearts connecting once again.
You pulled away “How did you do this?” Your fingers grazed the grey blazer “And where did you get this?”
Heeseung chuckled, licking his lips that lingered with the taste of you and your lipstick “We have to thank Jay for this.” He looked around the stage “And, well, my grandpa for his nice and dusty clothes.”
You chuckled and threw your head back and lord, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound Heeseung had ever heard.
“I love you.” You said, stunning him “Still?”
“Always.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and tip-toeing to reach his lips once more.
“Breaking news, angel.” He smiled on your lips “I happen to love you so much too.”
You squealed happily and kissed him, feeling the fire of passion igniting your body, burning your bones, dooming you to the pain and suffering called love.
But it was in that moment that you realised you would gratefully accept such pain if it came from Heeseung. Because, however reckless he acted, all of his dummy decisions that got him into trouble were made for you.
“I’ll find a better job.” He murmured, licking your bottom lip, “I’ll make money, buy a nicer house where we can live together.” One hand went to tangle your hair in his fingers “And then I’ll buy you a ring.”
“With a diamond?” You joked, making Heeseung chuckle “With whatever you want.”
Feeling as if the air was being taken out of your lungs, your heart pounding so fast and chest heaving up and down, you swore you’d stay by his side with another kiss.
Ignoring the crowd’s cheers, you tilted your head to deepen the kiss and Heeseung’s tongue slipped inside your mouth.
And that was the clue to close the curtains.
THE END.
© I2SUNRIC | DON’T STEAL OR CLAIM AS YOURS.
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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months
Text
Say I Do (m) | jjk
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Summary: you and Jungkook tease each other at your wedding reception.
Pairing: jungkook x female reader (no Y/N and unnamed)
AUs: non-idol!au, wedding!au
Genres: smut– like it’s just smut, nothing else 🤣
Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
Word count: 5,2k
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings/tag: unprotected sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, handjob, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, slightly rough sex, choking, biting, spitting, ass grabbing, impreg kink, degrading names (whore used once).
Author’s note: I made this for my lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7)!!!! SURPRISE!!!! I hope you like it! I was inspired to make this because of our chat, and I just want to say that you are so fucking lovely, sweet and kind 💖 I really hope this isn’t too much, but I just had too 🥹 I really wanted to make it dirty, but it ended up being more sweet instead, I’m sorry! I love talking to you and I just wanted to let you know that I adore and treasure you 😘 
Honestly Lua, I just wrote this to tell you how beautiful you are– mind, body and soul. Thank you Lua, I love ya 💜
This is just something very short while I work on ‘My Heart’s Home’. But I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think: my inbox is always open, and I love to hear from you, even a reblog/comment will put a big smile on my face 💜
Also!!! This is written from Jungkook’s POV (well I tried, lol). And normally I don’t describe the reader/MC, but she does have a tiny bit description in this, but I still feel it’s vague enough. But if that isn’t your thing, it’s completely fine 🙂 This is not proofread (because I’m too lazy for that right now).
This has nothing to do with my other fic 'say that again (I dare you)', but if you want to read that I'm not opposed (it's also a jjk fic) ✨
Fancy reading on AO3? 😉 
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Rising gracefully to his feet, Taehyung's infectious enthusiasm fills the room as he declares, “I propose a toast!” His radiant smile sweeps over the myriad of guests you meticulously invited to your wedding—more than a hundred souls sharing in the joy of your love story. 
As he prepares to speak, Jungkook can't help but marvel at the grandeur of the occasion. Despite his personal inclination towards a more intimate celebration, he wouldn't dream of denying you this moment, surrounded by the warmth of friends and family who have come together to witness the union of two hearts.
Despite Taehyung's earnest attempt to capture Jungkook's attention with a throat-clearing preamble, Jungkook finds himself inexplicably entranced elsewhere. Even in the midst of one of his closest friends delivering a heartfelt wedding speech—something he should be wholeheartedly absorbing—but it’s hard. As hard as his dick that you’re palming over his dress pants.
The tantalizing dance of your hand sends ripples of pleasure through him, an intoxicating distraction that eclipses all other thoughts. It's an artful symphony of sensation, each movement crafting a masterpiece of desire within him. The struggle to concentrate on anything else becomes an exhilarating battle. Fuck. 
You, the mischievous enchantress, wield your allure like a potent spell. 
A tantalizing awareness of your own danger courses through your veins, and you wield it with an expert finesse. Every knowing glance, every sly smile, is a calculated move in the game you effortlessly play. You've mastered the art of ensnaring him, wrapping him around your finger with a magnetic force that compels him to dance to your whims. It's a dangerous dance, but he willingly succumbs to the intoxication of your charm, embracing the thrill as much as he cherishes the intoxicating love he feels for you.
What the fuck is Taehyung saying?
Taehyung’s words dissolve into a meaningless buzz, drowned out by the illicit symphony you're orchestrating beneath the table. The audacious zipper sliding down and the tantalizing exploration of your hand over the fabric of his boxer briefs command all of Jungkook's attention.
Profanity trembles on the edge of his tongue, but it's lost in the overwhelming sensation that eclipses any coherent thought. Your stealthy touch renders him blissfully oblivious to everything else unfolding around him.
Suppressing a low, guttural sound, he clenches his teeth, using every ounce of willpower to stifle the moan building in his throat. As desire courses through him like a wildfire, he willingly parts his legs, a silent invitation for you to explore more boldly, granting ample space for the electrifying touch of your hand over the hardened length of his cock.
He marvels at your audacity, finding it both exhilarating and daring that you'd embark on such a provocative escapade during your wedding reception. Yet, deep down, he acknowledges that it's a reflection of the wild spirit that has always defined your relationship. It's a shared affinity for dancing on the edge, reveling in the allure of danger, and delighting in the thrill of engaging in activities that should, by all accounts, remain private. It's a facet of your relationship that has always been magnetic, drawing you both into a world where the risk of being caught only adds to the intoxicating excitement.
In the blink of an eye, your hand deftly maneuvers beneath the fabric of his boxers, sending a shiver down his spine. A hiss escapes his lips as your long, slender fingers confidently envelop his cock. The warmth of your touch is both a balm and an inferno, and he instinctively tilts his head back in the chair, a silent plea for discretion. 
As he surrenders to the delicious sensation, he can't help but cast a furtive glance around, fervently hoping that the clandestine ballet unfolding beneath the table remains a tantalizing secret shared only between you.
Despite the uproarious laughter echoing through the room in response to Taehyung's speech, Jungkook remains oblivious to its contents, ensnared the choreography of your hand beneath the table. 
The mirthful ambiance only fuels his curiosity, surmising that Taehyung must have delivered a punchline or shared a humorous anecdote. Meanwhile, beneath the table's concealment, your hand skillfully traces a tantalizing path along his hardened cock, drawing a hushed hiss from Jungkook's lips. 
With a steely resolve, he masks any trace of emotion, locking his features in a stoic facade and maintaining an impressive silence. His determined effort is not just to conceal the electrifying sensations your actions are evoking, but also to safeguard the clandestine intimacy you both share from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting guests. 
Every fiber of his being is a coiled spring, resisting the urge to yield to the pleasure that threatens to unravel beneath the veneer of his restrained expression. 
As his gaze shifts towards you, he's met with an unexpected sight—there you sit, an image of demure elegance in your exquisite white gown. 
The fabric caresses your curves in all the right places, accentuating the allure of your figure. The daringly low neckline teases a glimpse of the captivating silhouette of your bosom, leaving him momentarily breathless. The off-the-shoulder design unveils a generous expanse of your soft, tender skin, a tantalizing sight that aligns perfectly with his preferences. 
Despite the provocative allure of your attire, your outward appearance betrays no hint of the illicit affair transpiring beneath the table. If he didn't intimately know the secret you were concealing—your hand discreetly exploring the realm beneath his pants—he'd be fooled by the serene facade you present, seemingly absorbed in the captivating rhythm of Taehyung's speech.
In a silent plea of gratitude, Jungkook revels in the fact that the attention of the guests is fixed on Taehyung's speech, sparing him the scrutiny of prying eyes. 
Little do they know, the real spectacle unfolds beneath the table, where your touch becomes an exquisite torment. 
Every movement of your hand is a tantalizing dance, a blend of ecstasy and torture that threatens to unravel him. With a teasing finesse, your soft fingers caress his frenulum, tracing a path towards the depths of pleasure. The deliberate slide over his slit elicits a shiver of pure ecstasy, leaving Jungkook teetering on the precipice of desire that you expertly navigate.
Your hand envelops him, a cocoon of warmth that intensifies with each skillful stroke. The pleasure coursing through him is undeniably exquisite, a testament to the mastery of your touch. Yet, a lingering awareness tugs at the edges of his consciousness—an impending climax that threatens to unravel the careful threads of restraint. The exquisite sensations you evoke compel him to desperately anchor his thoughts, to redirect the intoxicating focus from the captivating dance beneath the table to Taehyung's speech.
The challenge lies not just in resisting the magnetic pull of pleasure but in maintaining a semblance of composure, navigating the delicate balance between the ecstasy you're orchestrating beneath the table and the public façade demanded by the occasion.
“We’ve been friends for so long, how many years is it now, Gguk?” As Taehyung poses the question, a hushed anticipation envelops the room, and all eyes converge on Jungkook. 
Fuck. 
All eyes are on him and he can’t think— he’s mind is clouded with thoughts of you. 
Taehyung– Fuck. How long have they been friends? 
In a sudden stumble of recollection, he breathes out, “17 years,” the weight of the shared history resonating in the room. Yet, the gravity of the moment is unexpectedly intensified as you administer an assertive squeeze around cock. Fuck.
With a chuckle that slices through the tension, Taehyung seamlessly continues his discourse, effortlessly reclaiming the attention of the room and redirecting every wandering gaze back to him. A collective exhale echoes in Jungkook's mind, a silent gratitude for the timely diversion that spares the clandestine spectacle beneath the table from becoming the unwitting center of attention. 
Relentless, you maintain the rhythm on his dick, displaying an unwavering determination that hints at an intention to push him to the brink, right under the unsuspecting gaze of the gathered guests. 
As the divine caress of your hand propels him perilously close to the edge, a surge of urgency overtakes him. Desperate, he turns his face towards you, eyes silently pleading for respite, but your gaze remains steadfastly elsewhere. 
Frustration wells within him, and he attempts to use his hands to guide yours away, only to find your grip tightening in response. The conflicting forces of pleasure and restraint collide within him, his muscles tensing as a hitch in his breath betrays the precarious precipice upon which he teeters.
Leaning in, you bring with you a halo of your natural sweet scent, an intoxicating allure that wraps around him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him slightly dizzy. 
Your lips, soft and plush, delicately find his cheek in what appears to be a tender gesture to the outside world. To the unsuspecting onlookers, it's a simple, sweet kiss on the cheek. 
Little do they know, in that same moment, your daring move involves not just the gentle press of your lips but the subtle exploration of your other hand slipping under his boxers to fondle his balls.
Fucking hell he’s gonna come.
Ecstasy courses through him like a wildfire, an imminent eruption fueled by the intoxicating cocktail of your skillful touch on his balls, warm breath teasing his ear, and the relentless grip on his pulsating desire. The threshold between pleasure and release narrows to a perilous edge, and he finds himself teetering on the brink, held captive by the maddening symphony of sensations you've orchestrated. 
Despite his valiant efforts to remain attentive to his friend's speech, the sheer mastery of your pleasure-inducing touch proves insurmountable. Every deliberate stroke, every strategic squeeze of his balls, propels him further into the abyss of ecstasy. In a moment of surrender, he can no longer contain the torrent of desire, and ropes of his essence surge forth from his throbbing dick. His lips bear the weight of a stifled moan, as you keep stroking him through his orgasm.
Beside him, your chuckle is a symphony of sweetness interwoven with a hint of mischief, a melodic backdrop to the ongoing crescendo of pleasure you expertly administer through his orgasm. 
As he traverses the realm of oversensitivity, a low, guttural grunt escapes him, drawing the curious gaze of Taehyung, engrossed in his ongoing speech. Though momentarily caught in a gaze of questioning inquiry, Taehyung forges ahead, resuming his speech with a peculiar stare, unwittingly oblivious to the spectacle unfolding beside him.
Thank fuck both of your parents aren’t seated right next to you. That would have been utterly mortifying and embarrassing.
With a deliberate finesse, you retract your hand from his crotch, guiding it gracefully over the table, where you nonchalantly employ a napkin to erase any lingering evidence. Seated there, you adopt an innocent facade, a picture of angelic composure that conceals the fact that, mere seconds ago, your hand delved into the forbidden realm beneath his pants. 
With an audible exhale, he reaches for a napkin, hastily attending to the aftermath on his pants. The damage is fortunately minimal, thanks to your deft intervention that efficiently captured most of his release. Smart girl.
But a mischievous spark ignites in his eyes, a silent vow echoing beneath the surface - oh, he's going to get back at you for that, you little minx. 
As the notes of the classic wedding waltz envelop the room, Jungkook marvels at the surreal reality—he gets to call you his wife now. The ethereal glow surrounding you transcends the physical, a radiant aura that has always defined you. Despite your humble protestations about your own beauty, he's captivated by the undeniable truth: you've always been, and continue to be, an enchanting vision. Countless times you've confessed to feeling otherwise, but in his eyes, you're a masterpiece. In this moment, as you dance together, you're not just a part of his world; you are his entire universe.
Gazing into the pools of your sweet, doe-like eyes, their exquisite almond shape captivates him, holding his attention in an unbreakable trance. He contemplates the nuances of your beauty, from the enchanting curvature of your slightly upturned nose to the endearing moments when he can't resist playfully poking it during your teasing exchanges. Every inch of you, in his eyes, is a masterpiece, and he pledges to vocalize his admiration every day, a ritual aimed at etching your beauty into your own consciousness. 
He dreams that with each affirming word, he'll weave a tapestry of self-love around you, until the day you see yourself as he does—undeniably, breathtakingly beautiful.
As you dance, your eyes ablaze with an unmistakable love, he luxuriates in the intensity of your gaze. A daring current of desire propels his hand, gliding with deliberate intent down your body until it boldly claims your ass. 
Uninhibited, he seizes it with audacious confidence, the bold move oblivious to the watchful eyes surrounding you. A soft, mischievous squeeze elicits a sweet chuckle from you, a harmonious note in the symphony of shared amusement that reverberates through the party, as the crowd collectively succumbs to the captivating allure of your uninhibited dance.
As the soft strains of the music envelop you both in a waltz, your heads draw nearer, the enchanting melody echoing the tender dance of your hearts. With the song nearing its end, he seizes the moment, leaning in intimately close to your ear. The hushed promise that escapes his lips carries a tantalizing undercurrent, his warm breath grazing your skin as he vows, “I'm going to get you back for earlier, babe.”
He senses the subtle shiver coursing through you as his touch lingers, a silent testament to the shared electricity between you. As the final notes of the song fade into the applause and cheers of the crowd, seizing the perfect moment, he leans in, embracing you in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
As the rhythm of a more upbeat song invigorates the dance floor, he seizes the opportunity to whisk you away from the lively crowd. Amidst the pulsating beats and the vivacious laughter of the guests, he guides you outside the building, their merriment gradually fading into the background.
In the crisp night air, he asserts a sudden dominance, pressing you against the sturdy wall. His gaze, infused with an unmistakable hunger and need, locks onto your beautiful eyes, creating a magnetic tension that reverberates between you. 
“You are a little minx, you know that?” His words, not laced with anger but rather a dangerous undercurrent of arousal, hang in the charged air. Your chuckle, a sweet symphony that further stirs the tempest within him, prompts a hiss as he succumbs to the magnetic pull, diving fervently into the captivating abyss of your mouth.
The kiss intensifies, a collision of passion that is both hard and rough, fueled by an undeniable need. In the urgency of the moment, he can't afford to wait, the impatience palpable in every fervent press of lips. 
You envelop him in the embrace of your arms, fingers intertwining at the nape of his neck, while your gaze rises to meet his. In the depths of his eyes, once warm brown orbs now transformed into pools of near-black intensity, a reflection of the potent arousal coursing through his veins. 
Your hand embarks on a daring journey, descending to the front of his pants once more, and the response is instantaneous – hardness reignites, a testament to the insatiable flame you kindle within him. Desire for you pulses like a constant current, an almost permanent state of arousal that defies logical explanation. Whatever enchantment you cast upon him, it's an irresistible force that weaves a tantalizing spell, leaving him perpetually captivated by the mystique of your touch.
Breaking away from the embrace of your soft lips, he wears a smirk laden with both warning and allure. “You're playing with fire, babe,” he remarks, the subtle edge in his voice echoing the intoxicating dance of danger and desire that swirls between you.
In a hushed whisper that flutters against your ear, he breathes, “You've been a naughty girl.” 
The words, laden with an undercurrent of sultry authority, send a shiver down your spine, awakening a cascade of tingles that traverse the landscape of your entire body. 
Descending to the delicate expanse of your neck, he peppers it with soft, almost teasing kisses, each touch a prelude to the symphony of sensations. Then, in an abrupt shift from gentle caresses, he bites down, coaxing from you a loud moan that resonates through the air—an intoxicating sound that echoes in the depths of his desire, a melody he'll never tire of hearing. 
Continuing his explorative journey, he ventures further south, his lips descending to the curve of your breasts. With a deliberate tenderness, he places a kiss atop the soft expanse of your tender tits.
Gracefully sinking to his knees, he gazes up at you with a mischievous smirk, the air thick with a heady mixture of desire and anticipation. His tongue darts out, grazing his lips in a provocative dance of anticipation, signaling the imminent exploration of pleasures yet to unfold. 
With an assertive grip, he seizes the front of your dress, drawing it away in a swift, purposeful motion. Despite the abundance of fabric, he deftly bunches it up with ease. “Hold your dress, please,” he directs, handing you the end of the gathered fabric. 
“Hmm. Nice lace stockings, and that girdle—what are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his voice a tantalizing blend of desire and fascination. His gaze lingers appreciatively on your beautiful thighs encased in nude stockings adorned with lace at the top, fastened to a concealed girdle on your waist.
His eyes widen with a mix of surprise and arousal as they land on your wet and glistening pussy, the evidence of desire trickling down your thigh. “Oh my god. You're not wearing panties?” he breathes out, his voice carrying the weight of both revelation and anticipation. A subtle lick of his lips betrays the intensity of his reaction.
A playful chuckle escapes your lips as you hover above him, and without a moment's hesitation, he immerses himself in the intoxicating warmth of your desire. His lips eagerly find their destination, tracing a decadent path from the delicate folds to the pulsating essence of your clit. 
The sensation ripples through your body, igniting a shiver that becomes an involuntary response to the electrifying dance between tongues, pleasure, and the shared yearning that binds you together.
He embarks on a tantalizing journey of tongue and suction, starting with teasing caresses that send tremors of anticipation through your body. His hands, strong and purposeful, find purchase on your thighs, holding you in a firm grip as he orchestrates a symphony of pleasure with his skillful tongue, creating an intoxicating dance that blurs the lines between sensation and desire.
A throaty moan escapes your lips as his nose delicately brushes against your pulsating cl*t, his tongue delving as deep as its voracious hunger allows. The exquisite sensation of his exploration elicits an involuntary clenching around him, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Your thighs, unable to withstand the intensity, succumb to a tremor, trembling beneath the intoxicating caress of pleasure that consumes you.
His dexterous fingers ascend to your throbbing clit, and with a skillful touch, he sets in motion a rapid dance of pleasure, causing your entire body to quiver with newfound intensity. The quickened rhythm of your breath becomes a symphony of desire, a telltale sign for him that you're teetering on the precipice of ecstasy.
Eager to reciprocate the pleasure you bestowed upon him within the confines of the reception, he fervently laps at your tender folds. Simultaneously, his fingers engage in a deft dance around your throbbing clit, orchestrating a symphony of sensations that echoes the pulsating rhythm of desire between you.
With the harmonious fusion of his skilled tongue and nimble fingers, he orchestrates the unraveling of your senses. As ecstasy courses through you, your body convulses in euphoria, your walls clenching around his tongue, and the pulsating rhythm of your clit intensifying under the spell of his fingers. 
Waves of pleasure surge through you, causing your body to quake, and in the throes of ecstasy, you release a high-pitched, strained moan that bears his name—an intimate symphony of pleasure that lingers in the air.
Breathless and overwhelmed, you gasp out his name, a plea woven into the words, “Fuck, Jungkook. I can't stand up anymore.” As he gracefully withdraws from your core, his gaze rises to meet yours, locking in a shared moment of intensity.
He chuckles, the rich timbre of his laughter lingering in the charged air. “I know, babe. Do you want me to fuck you against the wall?”
You draw in a sharp breath, and he keenly observes the subtle clench of your hand, the fabric of the dress tightly gathered within your grasp. 
“Fuck yeah,” An unbridled affirmation escapes your lips, a primal declaration of desire. As he rises to his feet, a surge of urgency propels him to capture your mouth in a hungry kiss. The taste of your own release lingers on his lips, creating an intimate communion of shared pleasure that binds you together in the aftermath of passion.
As he engulfs you in a fervent kiss, the symphony of desire playing out between you, his hands deftly navigate the zipper of his dress pants. With a purposeful movement, he unveils his throbbing cock, stroking it in rhythmic cadence. 
His hands, driven by a primal urgency, seek out the contours of your a*s with a possessive intent. “Jump up, babe,” he commands, the resonance of his voice weaving a spell of anticipation. As you obediently jump, he effortlessly lifts you, cocooning you against the wall. 
In a brief struggle against the bulk of your dress, both of you grapple with the fabric, pushing it away from the front of your entwined bodies. A shared chuckle hangs in the air, a lighthearted interlude in the midst of fervor. But as the fabric yields to your efforts, Jungkook seizes the opportunity, moving in with an insatiable hunger to bite at your neck once more. 
With a sultry whisper, he breathes, “I'm gonna fuck a baby into you, would you like that, hmm?” 
The words, pregnant with promise, glide against your ear, and the responsive clench of your legs around his waist speaks volumes. A knowing chuckle escapes him as you endeavor to pull him even closer, the shared desire resonating between you in the charged space.
“Please,” your plea, a desperate yet fervent entreaty, escapes your lips, a poignant melody of desire that resonates in the charged air. The subtle smirk that graces his lips is both a testament to your undeniable need for him and an acknowledgment of the power he holds over your cravings.
With a deliberate touch, he locates his throbbing cock with one hand and skillfully aligns it with your dripping entrance. The tantalizing dance begins as he teases your slick folds with the head of his pulsating dick, creating an electrifying friction that amplifies the anticipation between you two. 
“Gguk, please,” you plead with a mixture of desire and frustration, your voice echoing the urgent need for him to bridge the gap between anticipation and fulfillment. However, he remains steadfast, skillfully teasing your slick folds without granting the entry your body craves. 
With a desperate plea escaping your lips once more, he finally relents. The moment stretches with anticipation before he forcefully thrusts his thick cock into your eager pussy. The collision is met with an audible impact as your back forcefully meets the wall.
He forgoes the customary pause for adjustment, intuitively aware that you relish the exquisite stretch when he enters you so abruptly. Without hesitation, he plunges deep into your core, reaching the furthest recesses, his thick length grazing against your cervix. 
“You’re so big, the stretch feels so good!” 
You gasp breathlessly against his body, overwhelmed by the sheer size of him. The intoxicating stretch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, a visceral reminder of the intensity between you two. Determined to fully immerse yourself in the sensation, you pant against him, actively striving to ride the wave of pleasure, desperate to fuck yourself on him, the relentless pursuit of ecstasy evident in every ardent movement.
He establishes a relentless rhythm, driving into you with a force that resonates against the unyielding wall of the building. The symphony of your combined panting echoes in the air, a melodic accompaniment to the unbridled passion unfolding. Jungkook, captivated by the primal symphony, savors every delightful noise escaping your lips—a harmonious blend of desire and surrender, heightening the intensity of the fervent connection shared between you.
As he thrusts into you, each powerful motion striking your cervix, he elevates the intensity by trailing one hand up to your neck. With a gentle yet possessive touch, he wraps his fingers around your throat.
He knows you like it dirty and rough, and fuck he does too. 
His taunting words, laced with a playful yet provocative tone, cut through the charged air. “Did you enjoy the little game with your fingers down my pants while Tae was making his speech?” The rhetorical question hangs between you, a teasing challenge that elicits a subtle clenching reaction around him. 
In a sultry revelation, he whispers, “'Next to your bridesmaid and your parents. You naughty girl.” The hand steadying against the wall takes a firm hold of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with deliberate intent. A resonant moan of pleasure escapes your lips, harmonizing with the rhythmic cadence of his thrusts as he skillfully targets your sweet spot. 
“So naughty,” he breathes, punctuating each fervent thrust with a rhythmic intensity that sends shivers down your spine. “You enjoy getting off in front of your friends, huh?” His words, infused with a seductive blend of desire and provocation, become a tantalizing soundtrack to the relentless grind of his dick into you.
“And getting me off too? Whore,” he seethes into your ear, the heated accusation leaving a scorching trail of desire in its wake. Your response, a shiver against his body, fuels the intensity of the moment. 
As he continues to fuck you with an unrestrained force, your breasts bounce in a mesmerizing rhythm that captivates him. So fucking perfect.
“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, his eyes intently fixed on you as you obediently roll out your tongue, anticipating the act you relish. The charged moment lingers, pregnant with expectation. With a deliberate move, he spits on your waiting tongue, and you, the embodiment of submission, dutifully swallow it.
Damn it, he knows he won't last much longer if he continues to be entranced by the rhythmic bounce of your enticing breasts—they possess an almost hypnotic allure over him. And that tongue of yours, oh, it's pure seduction. 
“And you can't even wait until we reach our hotel suite to be fucked. So fucking needy, and I love it,” he declares, a blend of admiration and desire lacing his words. The deliberate clench of his fingers around your throat follows, a subtle yet potent assertion of control. His gaze remains fixed on your eyes, watching with a predatory intensity as they dilate even more.
As he tightens his grip, the sensation of his fingers constricting around your throat elicits a primal response—your walls clenching around his cock. The synchronized symphony of pleasure and control intertwines, and a guttural groan escapes him, an audible testament to the ecstasy coursing through his veins. 
Driven by an insatiable desire, he redoubles his efforts to fuck you even deeper.
“My filthy wife,” he pants into your ear, the possessive term dripping with desire, a declaration that ignites a primal response within you. The sultry proclamation elicits a moan of his name from your lips, a vocal affirmation of the all-encompassing pleasure coursing through your body. His acute awareness of your nearing climax manifests in the rhythmic clenching around his dick, a tangible sign of the intimate dance between you two.
“Fuck, Gguk. I'm so close again. Fuck!” you pant fervently against the curve of his neck, the words laced with desperation and desire. He senses the mounting intensity in your voice, a symphony of passion reaching its crescendo. 
Yet, he's attuned to the nuances, recognizing the subtle signs that your body, though on the brink of ecstasy, bears the weight of fatigue, having navigated the day in those tantalizing heels. 
“You crave an audience, don't you? Want people to watch you, to hear you,” he moans into your ear, the words a sultry declaration that fans the flames of desire between you two. The acknowledgment of your shared exhibitionist desires ignites a fresh surge of pleasure, prompting an instinctive clench around him.
“Then scream my name, let everyone in the damn party know how damn good I'm fucking you,” he commands, the intensity of his voice sending shivers down your spine. As your walls clench with even greater fervor, pulsating around his dick, a wave of your liquid envelops him, transforming the intimate connection into a slippery dance of shared pleasure.
You unleash his name with a primal scream, the sheer force of your ecstasy reverberating through the open air outside. Your head drops against the curve of his neck, seeking refuge in the haven of his embrace as the waves of pleasure cascade over you.
He relentlessly thrusts his dick into you, the urgency palpable as he seeks his own release. “I'm gonna give you a baby, just like we've always dreamed of.”
“Ahhh, fuck, yes!” The exclamation bursts from your lips, a little too loud, as an uncontrollable surge of pleasure courses through you. Your teeth instinctively seek refuge on his shoulder, sinking into the firm flesh in an unbridled act of both ecstasy and restraint.
“Fuck, babe, I'm gonna come,” he confesses with a guttural moan, each subsequent thrust punctuated with the desperation of impending release. His rhythm stumbles, an involuntary response to the intensity building within him as he hurtles towards the precipice of his orgasm. And then it hits him.
The rhythmic bounce of your tits in his face, the soft and sweet scent that envelops him, and the melodic cadence of your voice—all converge to cast a spell on his senses. In the midst of your lovely moans, he succumbs to the intoxicating blend of sensations, unleashing a torrent of white-hot semen deep inside your spent pussy. 
Panting and gasping, you both struggle for precious breaths, bodies slick with the sheen of sweat acquired in the throes of passion. Amidst the shared exhaustion, a mutual chuckle reverberates between you, an intimate exchange that encapsulates the postcoital atmosphere.
With your head nestled against his, you gaze into the depth of his eyes and confess, “I love you, Gukkie.” The words, tender and raw, bridge the physical intimacy you've just shared with the emotional vulnerability of a heartfelt declaration.
“I love you too. Every damn inch of you, you're so beautiful,” he pants, a declaration infused with both desire and admiration. As he smiles at you, the post-passion glow accentuates the sincerity in his eyes, turning the exchange into a powerful affirmation.
He'll never tire of professing his boundless love and adoration for you, vowing to weave those sentiments into the fabric of each passing day. The promise to remind you, with unwavering devotion, echoes in his commitment to articulate his love every damn day.
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Please let me know if you liked it with a comment, reblog, and ask or whatever 💜
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jaysswlvrr · 4 months
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Never Have I Ever | Jake Sim
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౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪"you sure you a virgin, baby?"
synopsis: You play a game called 'Never Have I Ever' a popular TV show with a cute boy named Jake in hopes of finding your true love. During the game, he figures out some cute things about you.
Your a... virgin?
warnings: protected sex,(FINALLY, I MADE IT HAPPEN), kissing, biting, make-outs, jake and y/n are famous but not k-pop way (like tiktokers or smth), you really trust each other, pet names ?, little degrading, and size kink scattered everywhere if u squint <3, mature topic and jokes, y/n is a virgin but she like INexperienced, you get me?
{☆} I don't like this so i might delete it if you guys don't like it.🤷🏽‍♀️
As you impatiently settled into your seat, the camera set pulled a thumbs-up. Your heart was racing with anticipation, and you couldn't wait for the show to begin. You felt the cameras flash and suddenly, your attention was diverted as a tall, handsome boy entered the room. His smile was infectious, and you feel drawn to him. As he walked over to his seat, you found yourself stealing glances in his direction.
"Hey, I'm Jake", he says and sticks out his veiny hands for a handshake. You smile and extend your hand, introducing yourself as "y/n". His hands are big and pretty compared to yours, which are small and neatly painted. His hands feel warm and soft as you shake them.
You were each given cards with questions to ask each other. If a question was too personal, the person would take a shot of a strong drink instead. The hope was that these shots would lead to revealing secrets unintentionally.
Which wasn't needed for you two.
#take 1
It has been about 20 minutes into the game, and you and Jake are really getting along[!]
It seems like you two connected straight away and wouldn't stop trying to make the other one blush. You even managed to sneak a hand under his thigh and caught him looking a bit too long, down your chest.
#take 2
"Never have I ever had a wet dream about someone I liked" he puts his hand on his chin, pretending to think. He writes on his board 'Not yet' and you question him.
"I'm probably going to have some about you tonight", he bites his lip, surprising you with his words. You cover your face, which is turning bright red, with your hands. Now it's his turn to laugh at you.
'ok last question !'
You squeal silently in your seat, kicking your feet as you start speaking again. "Never have I ever had proper sex" you laugh as if you don't know the answer.
"Well, I have" he sits up from his seat, cocking a brow as if he was asking you something "have you?".
Your face slightly burns up as you look down "No.."
Oh, he found you so cute, almost popped a boner. You were just so perfect, short, tiny, pretty, adorable, and most importantly, a virgin.
His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watched you have a moment of shock.
The room lit up with bright lights as 'victory' music played. You guys had won the game, and you were awarded the title of the cutest couple on the show.
You were both stood up, and you looked at him as he intertwined ur fingers slowly walking off the set.
౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
Oh, flip. You are having your first date with Jake, and you're trembling, not confident like you always are. You have gotten your nails done with French tips, and it's making it worse, as you can't get a stand of hair pulled back.
You curse to yourself, about to throw a tantrum while rushing to find a hairbrush, but it's okay; y/n always wins in the end.
You let out a loud huff as you looked at yourself again, practising different smiles for when you see him. Finally, you leave your house, enter your Uber, and reach the café in under 10 minutes.
I couldn't finish it right now, but obviously..
part 2?
(ill tag you if you reblog and comment!)
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strang3lov3 · 9 months
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Cinnabon
Summary: (mall rats 7, final part!) Joel ruins a special moment, leading to another stupid argument, leading to him fucking the daylights out of you on his couch. Lovingly.
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Tags: AU where yeast is not dead and we can all bake and be happy. Cordyceps is no longer in the flour/sugar either (work with me) Cinnabons, 69, dirty talk, unprotected Piv, creampie because it’s me, strang3lov3. soft dom joel because again, it’s me, strang3lov3. Strange highs and strange lows, that’s how my love goes. You get it.
A/N: As always, thank you @papipascalispunk for editing ❤️ you’ve helped me so much on this series and you have no clue how thankful I am for that. Definitely abusing your talents for the next shit I wanna write! And thank you to everyone who’s read and reblogged, commented, all of that good stuff. This was a blast to write!!!
This may not be the absolute end of these two, so you might get an update on them here and there, most likely in the form of yet another lovers quarrel. But I have so much stuff planned and I hope you continue to keep up with me ❤️ excited for the new year and to share what else i've been writing with all of you 🩷
It’s early in the morning in late December when you’re walking up to Joel’s porch, holding a basket full of ingredients and a dusty copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. You knock on the door, no answer. With Joel’s poor hearing, sometimes it’s better to knock on his back door. He seems to hear it better, closer to his bedroom and all that. You make your way to his back door, where you find Ellie quietly opening the window next to the door, no doubt sneaking back from a friend’s house. You startle each other, “Ellie, hi,” you say. You wrinkle your nose, she smells like weed. You can’t help but smirk.
“Oh,” she says, “Hi. I’m not– I’m just–”
“I won’t tell Joel,” you smile. Ellie’s staring at your basket of goodies, where one of your lacy Victoria’s Secret thongs sits on top of a blue Cinnabon apron. “I’m just…baking. For Joel. Are you gonna be home today?”
It’s Ellie’s turn to smirk at you, as she opens the window the rest of the way and lifts herself inside the house. You hear her heavy footsteps before she unlocks and opens the door for you. “I can disappear,” she replies, “I require payment, though.” 
“I’ll leave you a plate outside your door.”
“Deal.” 
Ellie goes to her room probably to change clothes, and you go toward Joel’s kitchen. “I want two of whatever you’re making,” Ellie calls out before slamming the back door again, probably going back to her friend’s house. That girl certainly knows how to negotiate. You can’t help but love her for it.
Joel usually wakes up early, but he’s not on his recliner where you expect him to be. Must be in bed. You smile to yourself, picturing Joel coming downstairs in his pajamas, hair messy and sighing in pleasure at the sweet aroma of butter and cinnamon. 
You’re making Cinnabons this morning. Well, cinnamon rolls, as Betty Crocker puts it. When you and Joel were in the Barnes and Noble at the mall picking up books for Jackson’s library, you had stumbled across Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. Flipping through the pages, you found a recipe for cinnamon rolls and thought back to that first time in the mall with Joel, where he explained what a Cinnabon was, and then lied about his sweet tooth. 
There were loads of recipes, many interesting pictures too. You brought the book to Joel and pointed at a picture of some odd, translucent dome-shaped food item. He told you it was called Jell-O, and that no one misses it. You wanted to take the cookbook back with you, but there wasn’t room in the duffel bag. And you couldn’t bear to rip out a single page for one recipe. That would just be cruel.
At the end of the day, you went back to Tommy’s office with Joel. Joel usually walks you home, but he didn’t that day. Said he was running late for game night with Ellie, so he took off quickly. Tommy told you he’d walk you home, though.
As you and Tommy went through some of the books, he heard you sigh disappointedly, “What’s gotcha down, hon?”
“There was this book I wanted, but we didn’t have room.” 
“What book?”
“Cookbook,” you replied, “I wanted to make a recipe for Joel.” 
“Ah,” Tommy murmured, flipping through the pages of an old picture book, “Which recipe?”
“Cinnamon rolls.”
“Oh man,” Tommy groaned. He checked his watch, then looked at you with a light in his eyes. 
“I’ll take you back there right now to get that book.” 
“You’d do that?”, you asked.
“For you, of course. But I got my motives. Ya gotta hook me up with some of those rolls.”
There are few things that make you feel as loved and appreciated as when Tommy’s eating your food, showering you in the sweetest compliments and praises. No problem, you’d gladly share your baking with him. So Tommy took you back to the mall. You led him to the bookstore, picked up your book and went on your merry way. Tommy still hadn’t gotten to check the mall out for himself, though. So he wandered through the same areas you did, through the food court you and Joel picked through all that time ago. At the Cinnabon stand, he tossed you a blue apron with the word ‘Cinnabon’ embroidered at the chest. “Bet ya could make Joel turn bright red with this.”
You picked up what he was putting down immediately. And, thinking about it, you had a lacy thong that would match the apron perfectly. You remembered the blush on Joel’s cheeks as you tried on lingerie at Victoria’s Secret, how he mumbled something about lingerie being a waste of time before fucking you in the dressing room, still wearing your pretty pink chiffon babydoll. You wondered if faced with a big, gooey cinnamon roll sitting in front of him, and you in nothing but an apron and a thong, he’d still lie about that sweet tooth of his and his disdain for lingerie. Cause for an experiment. 
In Joel’s kitchen, you prepare the recipe. You prepped the dough last night, giving it plenty of time to rise. All you have to do this morning is prepare the cinnamon-sugar mixture and the icing. Oh, and put on that apron and thong. Not too hard. 
Once the rolls are assembled in the pan, you put them in Joel’s oven and change into your little outfit, feeling a little breeze on your bare ass. Good thing Ellie’s gone. As you’re waiting for the rolls to bake, you lean over Joel’s kitchen table and flip through the pages of your cookbook. The Jell-O still has you perplexed. 
Some time goes by. You’re reading about the Jell-O, how Betty Crocker said that it was great for parties and baby showers and other things like that. The slam of the glass door behind you startles you. You whip around, and there’s Joel with bright red cheeks, looking shocked and horrified. Through the glass door, you see Tommy in Joel’s yard. He waves at you, smiling. You wave back.
“Jesus Christ,” Joel grumbles, quickly pulling the blinds over the glass door to protect your modesty, “You gonna explain why you’re bare assed in my kitchen?”
“I thought you were sleeping,” you reply.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” he grumbles, as the egg timer you set prior goes off with a ding. You open the oven and pull out the cinnamon rolls with a pair of potholders, giving Joel a perfect view of your entire ass. “Oh my god,” he groans. When you turn around, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, always so dramatic. You reach for the Pyrex measuring bowl full of icing you prepared and begin drizzling it over the warm cinnamon rolls. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You’re somethin’ else, you know that? I never know what–”, Joel stops speaking, and you look back at him once more. He’s intrigued, eyes wide. The pastry has pulled his attention away from your nearly-bare body. “Those uh– those cinnamon rolls?”
“Cinnabons,” you correct him, pointing to the embroidered logo on your chest, “But yeah– cinnamon rolls.”
“Right,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. He reaches into one of his drawers for a fork and pushes you out of the way. 
“Joel,” you complain as he steals a bite of the cinnamon rolls, right out of the pan. He blows on it first, careful not to burn his tongue. When he tastes the pastry, his eyes flutter shut. He moans softly. “You said once that you missed Cinnabons,” you explain, speaking softly. Joel reaches for another bite, right out of the pan.
“Mhm,” he mumbles, mouth full of dessert.
“What’s the verdict?”
“Cinnabon’s better,” he answers plainly. 
Your face drops. “What?”
“Yeah this–”, he takes another bite, “S’no good at all.”
He’s fucking with you. Probably gonna say something dumb like how you should give him the pan, let him dispose of those no good cinnamon rolls for you. “Dick,” you punch his arm for scaring you like that. He doesn’t mind. 
“You made these for me?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “For you.”
“For me,” he repeats, a soft smile on his face. You’re kind of baffled at his mood change, but you know what they say about men and food; the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, all that stuff. He steps closer to you, backing you against the countertop and turning off his oven, still wearing that smile, like he knows something you don’t.
“But I owe Tommy and Ellie one, too,” you continue, voice a little shaky. You’re nervous, why is he making you nervous? Joel sets his fork down and stares at you, lovingly, tenderly. “I made two batches before this, fucked both of those up. And then I ran out of sugar, actually. Tommy had to steal me some more.”
“I love you.”
His words hit you like a ton of bricks. He says it plainly, no frills. Just out with it. 
“You do?”
“Mhm,” he hums, “I do. Still would like an answer as to why you’re half-naked, though.”
Your face heats up. What were you saying? The cinnamon rolls, right. 
“I was– I don’t know. I had to knead the rolls by hand. The recipe said a stand mixer would be easier, but I didn’t…”, you trail off, feeling a little fuzzy, like you can’t think straight, your train of thought slipping away from you, “Didn’t have one. I love you too, actually.”
“I know,” he replies softly. He never doubted it for a second. Lord, he’s so handsome. His eyes sparkle more than usual, his fluffy curls untamed. The flannel he’s wearing suits him perfectly, and you can’t help but stare, stammering quietly. He reaches for your face with one hand, wrapping the other around your waist and pulling you close to his body, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
Oh, fuck. You squirm out from his hold, away from the counter he held you against. Joel looks absolutely baffled as you smile sheepishly. “Can you grab me a plate for the Cinnabons?”, you ask, “I need to leave one by Ellie’s door.”
“I’d like to kiss you first, if you don’t mind,” he says, walking towards you. You keep walking backwards, around the kitchen table. Joel follows you as you look through his drawers for a spatula, opening and closing cabinets with shaky hands as you try to find a plate. Where are his fucking plates? Joel reaches for your hand to stop you. “Will you let me kiss you?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
Joel’s missing something here. Has to be. You love Joel. Joel loves you. That’s been established, just like, two minutes ago. And you’ve been intimate with him many times before. The next logical step in this series of very out of order steps would be to kiss you. Unless…“Are you nervous?”, he asks.
“About what?”, you ask, “Kissing?”
“No, underwater basket weaving. Yes, kissing,” he sighs, “You seem nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” you lie, “I’d just like to be the one to do it first.”
“Oh,” Joel replies, still a little confused, “Yeah, naturally. Makes sense.” He takes you by the hand and leads you to his living room, sits you on the couch and takes his place next to you. “Lay it on me, then.” 
“I can’t just–”
“You can,” he interrupts, coaxing you gently, “Come closer.” You scoot closer, but it’s not enough for Joel. Still wearing nothing but a thong and an apron, he lifts you by your ass and places you on his lap. Joel wears an expectant look on his face as you adjust yourself on his lap, feeling so awkward and out of your element. You’ve kissed people before, this should be no big deal. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous with Joel, especially when you’ve done everything else with him. 
“Joel, I– I don’t know where to put my hands.”
“Right here,” he whispers, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Or here,” he moves your hands to his jaw, his patchy beard prickly under your fingertips. “Wherever you want.”
“I like your shoulders,” you whisper, dropping your hands back to his shoulders. One of your hands slides to the back of his neck, playing with his soft curls. 
“S’good,” he says. And oh, his eyes. Brown and so warm, inviting, so beautiful. 
“Close your eyes,” you demand, intimidated by his stare. “Sorry. Close your eyes,” you repeat, softer. 
“My bad,” Joel replies, his eyes now shut. You’ve never noticed how pretty his lashes are before now. They’re gorgeous, so long. “They’re closed now.”
“Okay,” you breathe. 
“You got it,” he encourages. 
God, this is daunting. You close your eyes, lean forward…and smooch him right on the cheek. There. Easy. 
“Doesn’t count,” Joel murmurs through a smile, eyes still closed. Fuck. You adjust yourself on his lap, lean forward and…nothing. Joel waits. And waits. And waits. 
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” you say, trying to will yourself to just do it.
“Okay, sweetheart. You got it,” he whispers. But you don’t kiss him yet, and Joel keeps waiting, feeling himself beginning to grow hard as you keep squirming on his lap, adjusting yourself some more. “Hon?”
“Yeah?”
“Any minute, now.”
“I know,” you say, “I’m gonna kiss you.” But you adjust again. A minute passes with you on Joel’s lap as he waits patiently for you to finally kiss him. Another minute. And then you lean forward and – nothing. 
“I’m gonna count down from three, and then you’ll kiss me. How about that?”
Yeah, sounds like a plan. 
“Okay,” you reply. 
“Three…two…”, Joel counts, and you prepare once more to kiss him, “One,” Nothing. Joel sighs, “You’re killin’ me here.”
“I was about to do it, Joel.”
“Uh huh.”
“I was,” you argue, “You just keep talking and–”
“Oh, you’re so full of shit. You’re the one doin’ most of the talkin’, like usual.”
“That’s not true,” you argue, but are interrupted when he opens his eyes. That’s not supposed to happen. He wears a mischievous grin as he sits up and his hands begin to slide up your sides. Your already pounding heart begins to beat even harder, faster, because Jesus Christ, he seems like he’s about to kiss you. “What are you doing?”
“Ya got three more seconds to kiss me. Three…”
“Joel, not funny,” you scold as he takes your face in his hands. 
“Two…”
You’re beginning to panic, “Joel–”
And then he fucking kisses you, the bastard! No tongue, just a sweet, gentle peck. It’s despicable. You shove him back on the couch and glare at him, “You kissed me!”
“How awful,” Joel says with mock sympathy before he leans forward and kisses you again. You shove him again, harder.
“You asshole. I was gonna do it.”
“No, you weren’t,” he replies plainly. He tries to kiss you again, but you keep your hands on his shoulders, pinning him to the couch cushion. Joel’s smirking, but you’re scowling.
“Yes, I was.”
“Okay,” Joel laughs, “We can redo it, then.”
You sigh, “No, Joel, we cannot redo it. You already ruined it.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“Shit. S’too bad,” Joel feigns a sympathetic pout as he wraps both hands around your wrists that pin his shoulders, removing them from his body. He pushes your hands behind your back, holding them tightly as he kisses you again. And again, this time a little longer. Your lips begin to slide against his, and…god, they’re soft. The bastard.
“You’re ruining–”
“For the love of god, you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ nuts,” Joel mumbles against your lips. 
“I was supposed to–”
“No. You had your turn. We’re doin’ it my way now,” Joel says, “That means,” he kisses you, “M’gonna kiss you,” another kiss, “And fuck you,” another kiss, “As I please, because I love you,” he whispers. He kisses you before he maneuvers you to lay across the couch cushions, now pinning your wrists above your head under just one of his hands “And you can’t do a thing about it. Got it?” 
“I–”
He doesn’t let you argue further. Always so stubborn, you. “Good girl. Yeah, you got it,” Joel kisses you again. It’s different this time. Deeper, hungrier, messier. So much tension, time spent dancing around feelings, and it’s all out there now. His tongue slides past your lips and he tastes like cinnamon and sugar. You’ve been depriving yourself of him for too long. “And after all this, I’m gonna eat some of them cinnabons you made. And I won’t share, either.”
With his free hand, Joel unzips his pants to free his cock. “You know what you do to me, trouble?” he asks, breathing heavily. “Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock with all that squirmin’ ya did instead of kissin’ me,” Joel lifts the bottom of your apron up, exposing yourself to him, already dripping wet as he pulls off your soaked thong. You could have expected the ensemble wouldn’t have lasted long. And how are you already wet? One second you’re arguing about a stupid kiss and the next, he’s got you pinned beneath him and you’re dripping. You gasp as Joel gathers your slick with his fingers before stroking his cock, dipping his head back down to kiss you. He kisses your lips sloppily, then your cheek and down your jaw, your neck, nipping at the skin and soothing the marks with his tongue. It feels hot and passionate, and loving and dirty; all the best things at once. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he kisses further down your body, still stroking his cock. He pauses momentarily to pull the strap of the apron over your head, then lifting your ass to untie the apron in the back. He pulls the fabric away from you quickly, tossing it on the floor. He kisses your chest, dividing his attention equally between your breasts. Pinching, twisting one nipple, kissing and licking the other, then switching. He leaves them wet with his spit as he kisses down your body, stopping before he reaches your pussy. “Joel,” you whine, “Please– need your mouth on me.”
“Oh, convenient. Now you want my mouth,” he breathes, teasing you.
“Please, I need it, need you,” you beg. 
“Wouldn’t ya know it, I need your mouth too.”
“So? Me first.”
“God, you’re a brat. Nice try,” Joel pulls away from your body, taking off his clothes quickly, “Said we’re doin’ things my way. Tryin’ somethin’ new today. Scoot,” he motions for you to move to the side. “On all fours, now. Come on, up,” you scoot to the side where Joel tells you to, slightly confused as you take the position. Joel takes his place next to you, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to his face. “Sit,” he tells you.
“Joel,” you begin to protest. Surely he doesn’t want you to actually sit on his face, right?
“You trust me.” It’s not a question. He knows you trust him, he knows you know he’ll take care of you. Of course he will. His voice is firm, confident, “I need you to sit,” as he pulls your center to his mouth, wasting no time in pressing kisses into your folds, slick and sticky with your growing arousal. Your breasts are pressed against his soft stomach, hands gripping his meaty thighs. Freeing an arm from its place at your hip, Joel wraps his hand around his cock, rock hard with a swollen blushed tip. He uses his other hand to reach for your head, pushing your face towards his member. “Take me in your mouth,” he says. “See? We’re compromising. S’what people in love do.” What an asshole.
Wrapping a hand around his thick cock, you guide his tip to your mouth, pressing wet kisses against the smooth skin. He tastes like he always does, familiar and masculine, salty and sweaty, as you trace over his swollen veins with your tongue. Joel groans against your cunt as he parts your lips, your tongue still painting delicate swirls on his skin. 
“Yeah, attagirl,” he praises in a raspy voice, “Best of both worlds, ain’t it?” Joel laps at your cunt, moaning softly at the way you taste, your arousal almost as sweet and delicious as your cinnamon rolls from earlier. He keeps you held firm against his face as he licks you, alternating between drawing firm lines with the tip of his tongue and fat stripes with his tongue flattened. 
“Mmmm,” you moan, voice muffled by his cock. You’ve got him as deep as you can take him, your nose nudging his balls slightly as you cup them gently in your hand. Joel surprises you when he dips his tongue into your pussy, tasting every bit of your pussy. You stop what you’re doing, the only thing your mind can focus on is the feeling of his tongue working magic inside you.
He swats your hip, “Know it feels good, but it goes both ways, sweetheart.”
“Please, Joel,” you beg. 
“You know the rules,” he says, “You stop, I stop. Keep goin’, you’re suckin’ my cock so good, sweetheart. So good. Always do, you know that?” You begin to bob your head on his cock once more, Joel rewarding you with wet, sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your pussy. It takes everything you have to focus on his pleasure when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking gently on the sensitive spot and humming against you. It’s not long before that familiar feeling begins to build in your stomach, your first orgasm washing over you. 
You gasp for air, “Oh my god, Joel,” as he works you through your climax. Joel never lets up, not once. He keeps sucking, licking your clit, his facial hair tickling your skin and only adding to the overwhelming sensation. Once more, your peak begins to build. “I’m– fuck, I’m gonna come again.” 
“S’the fuckin’ point, my love,” Joel mumbles quietly, and you can feel his smirk. Despite the rules, you’re not even sucking his cock anymore, your face instead resting on his body, haphazardly stroking his length as pleasure erupts from your core. You’re a moaning mess, pussy dripping and soaking Joel’s face. 
Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath. Underneath you, he places one last kiss right on your clit before he gently slides himself out from your body. You’re hardly coherent as he meets you once more, this time his face inches above yours, caging you in his arms. His cock bounces between your legs and he leans down to kiss you again. His lips are wet and you can taste your arousal on his tongue. “Look at that, I stole another one,” he taunts. 
“You’re a dick,” you breathe against his mouth, your body betraying you as you can’t help the smile that forms on your lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” and in one swift motion, Joel lines himself up with your entrance and pushes into you. He kisses you again, swallowing your gasp as he parts your insides, letting you feel every inch of him. God, he feels good. You’ll never tire of that stretch, that delicious feeling of being completely full of him. 
“Oh, Joel,” you moan. He pulls out slowly, then slides back in at a harsher pace, grunting when he bottoms out inside of you. He takes both of your hands in his own, pinning them above your head as he rocks his hips. It’s tender yet dominant, just how everything is with Joel. Just how you like him. 
“Love this pussy,” he purrs, “An’ I love you so much,” as he fucks you deeply, intensely. You whimper through his thrusts, each stroke fluid and firm and intentional. He knows your body like his own. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. You always do.”
You writhe underneath him, relishing in the pleasure he gives you. His name and sweet whisperings of love are all you can speak, each word coming out in soft, broken cries. The wet, sticky noises of your pussy fill the room, along with your moans and Joel’s grunting, groaning, and heaving breaths. You tilt your head to the side, arms still pinned beneath Joel’s hands. You kiss his wrists and bite his skin there gently.
“Come with me, baby,” he coos, adjusting the angle and finding that sweet spot inside you, that spot he knows and loves. He lets go of your arms, one of his big, masculine hands now on your waist, the other thumbing your clit. “Give me one more, sweetheart.”
It’s all it takes. His words send you over the edge, your pussy squeezing him, walls fluttering and pulsing with every thrust of his cock. “Fuck, Joel,” you whimper as he fucks you through your orgasm. You wrap your legs around his body, the heels of your feet bouncing against his ass, simultaneously pulling him into a tight embrace with your now free arms. Everything about this moment with Joel is perfect, the way he smells, his hot skin, how close and safe you feel with him. It sends Joel over the edge, too. With your name on his lips, your cunt gushing and pulsing around his cock, he spills inside you, painting ribbons of himself deep inside you as he helps you ride out your own climax as long as he can. 
He pulls out of you with a soft groan. He cleans you quickly with his t-shirt, a warm smile on his lips. He kisses your forehead, then sits back against the couch, catching his breath. You sit up too, and Joel holds out his arm as an invitation for you to curl into his side. Your head resting on his shoulder, you stare at him. All of his beautiful features, warm brown eyes, his smile lines, his aquiline nose. And then, you do it. You kiss him. Long and deep, passionate. Hours could be passing, you don’t know. 
Joel breaks the kiss. He pulls away from you, no longer smiling warmly. Instead, he wears his teasing grin. “Finally,” he smirks. He holds up his hand for a high five. Fucker. You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off the couch and buttoning Joel’s flannel over yourself. You make your way to the kitchen, finding a plate and placing two cinnamon rolls on them. You reach for an old pencil that sits on the window sill, scribbling ‘Ellie’ on a piece of nearby scratch paper and leaving it next to the plate. A deal is a deal, after all. 
“Don’t leave me hangin’, now,” Joel calls out to you from the living room. You turn around and he’s waving his hand, nagging you about his abandoned high five. 
You flip him off. Asshole. 
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